HENRY A. PARSONS, Jr., Editor and Publisher NIL DESPEB ANDTJM. Two Dollars per Annum. VOL. X. KIDGWAY, ELK COUNTY, PA., THURSDAY, DECEMBER 16, 1880. NO 43. Christmas Frolics. " Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas!" What a joylul, ringing cheer, Memory brings ns, Irom our childhood, While again these words we hear Much oi gladness, Naught ot sadness, Comes to greet the listening ear, Sleigh-bells jingling, fingers tingling, In the icy morning air; What cared we for cold December, Or the snow-crust's blinding glare ? Snow-driit treasures Proved rare pleasures When the lass we loved was tbere. Home returning, love kept burning, Tdl the happy, star-lit night; Gathering round the cheerful fireside, Young and old would all unite, Apples toasting, Chestnuts roasting Anything to give delight. Then the meeting and retreating, In the weird and homely reel! While our youthful hearts kept beating Time to love we would conceal; Which we dared not, Or we o ire l not Yet to own, or soarce to feel. Ah! those golden memories, olden, Come with joy irom youth's bright stage! Fairest oi the sunlit pictures, Puintod on life's varied page! They can never Hearts dissever From the glories crowning age! JValhan Upham. A CHRISTMAS DIAMOND. "But, papa, there is nothing else I want. Maud haa a diamond rine, and 1 1 one year younger than I." "I am very sorry, little daughter,", said Mr. Montague, passing his hand gently over the golden hair of his child, ' but I do not think it wise or proper for children to wear diamonds." " You are rich, papa." . " Yes, Ettiel, but hundreds are poor, and the money you desire for an orna ment would provide several families with many comforts. Papa seldom de nies you anything, little girl, and in this case you must consider it wisest and best for him to decide." Ethel did no1 consider anything at that moment, except her desire to pos sess n diamond as large and as costly as her cousin Maud's. It was a few days before Christmas, ami Elhi 1 was going with her parents to spend it with Maud's hitler and mother Mr. Montagu was a wealthy merchant Andaman ot excellent judgment. When bis wife entreated him to withhold cer tain articles of dress Irom their little daughter lest she should become vain and fond ot show, he readily agreed with her, snd E.hel w.is, in conse quence, well and neatly, but never showily dressed. Her parents disliked to see a mere child loaded with jewelry ; and, as Mrs. Montague remarked: "Ethel would enjoy noihingin antici pation if every wish was lavishly sup plied." For several days Ethel went about in an unhappy frame of mind. She no longer ran to meet her lather, no longer sat for hours in his la j and listened'to his very interesting conversation about scientific subjects, or watched him as he ex.uninen objects under his microscope. As she expressed it, '"she was real cros3 with j.apa." Mr. Montague being a fond and indul gent father, might have given up to tnis exacting spirit if it had not been for his wife, who insisted on permitting the evil to work its own cure. "Ethel," said her mother, one morn ing, "you and I will go out to Aunt Carrie's to-day. Papa cannot come out before Christmas eve." " I don't care when we go," said Ethel, carelessly, still thinking of her coveted treasure. Aunt Carrie whs delighted to see them, and immediately asked them to assist her in preparing for the family festival. Ethel forgot her disappointment for a time as she nnd Maud filled cornucopias or dressed! dollies. At night, however, whei the cousins were in bed, Ethel returned to her cjniplaiuts, and Maud quite agreed with nor that "it was real mean in a rich papa to deny his only child a diamond ring!" The girls were too bU3y all day prepar ing presents to find lima for repining, and Maud's papa was bo full of fun he kept them all in good humor. "Sister," said "ha to Mrs. Montague, "what time shall we look for Charlie? I propose to drive down my new trotter and bring him up from the station." ' I havo no i .ea what train he will take," said Mrs. Montague. " lie has several purchases to make, and certain ca! 8 which he never neglects on Christ mr.s eve." " Would vou ask the master to step here a bitf" asked Maurice, the coach man, of Annie, the sewing-girl, who was busy wewing evergreen wreaths. Annie consented, and in a few mo ments Mr. Merton stood in the hall. "Well, Maurice," said he, cheerfully, "Lave you come to ask ior Christmas out?" " No, yer honor," said Maurice, "and if you'll be so kind as to speak low, I would D3 after telling you there's a smash-up on the express, and I was thinking the ladies need not know. It's five miles below, and the word has just coue. I wouldn't bother the ladies about it. yer honor." Mr Merton took the hint, and said, in a loud tone: "Yea. Maurice, put the trotter in the light buggy, and go down with me to the station." 'If you'll pardon me, yer honor, the carriage would do better, as mistress is expecting none buudles by the four o'co 'k train.'' "All right," said Mr. Merton ! "but get ready as soon as possible." The happy group in the music-room hea- d a portion of the conversation and went quietly on with their work. Mr. Morton, however, did not return to them, but went at once to his dressing room. Thanks to his own love of order and the excellent management of his wife, he knew where to find at once every article he required, and, by the time Maurice appeared, he was onite ready, with mysterious packages peep, ing out of his pockets. "Gooci-bye, all,"h Pid, hurriedly opening the door to look in upon tha busy group. " Don't worry if you do pot see Charlie and me until quite late. I have some last things to purchase in me viuage." "Let the last things go, dear, and come back soon," said his wife. Once beyond his own grounds Mr. Merton was a changed man. He could not drive fast enough, and Maurice, who was famous for his greit care of the horses, now urged them continuously to : ii. a si i . iuuit?ttBt; Liiuir speeu, uuiiii it oecame ai most a run. " First to our station. Maurice " Maurice obeyed. Groups of men were standing about looking anxious. " What news P " asked Mr. Merton. "Four o'clock express smashed up and several killed. Our doctors have gone down, and we are waitin? for an other dispatch." Click, click, click, went the instru ment; the operator bent over it, and the crowd presstd about. " Send word to Merton, and have him bring bandages. Twelve killed. Many wounded." "Had you any one on the train?" asked a bystander, as Mr. Merton sprang into his carriage again. " I fear so; but, for your lives, don't let it reach my family yet. Drive, Mau rice ; drive as you never did before 1 " Maurice urged the spirited horses on. It was a desolate place where the acci dent occurred ; one or two small houses were seen, but a swamp intervened, and the dead and dying were lying on the frozen earth, with only such comfort as their fellow-passengers could give them. Many who were not wounded were too much shaken up to be of any service. The farmers' wives living nearest the scene of terror had promptly sent blankets and such stores as thev could think of. The engine was an entire wreck, and, as yet, the relie f train from the city had not arrived. Thank God. there is Mr. Merton!" iaid Dr. Share, as he finished bandasrinz a leg with pieces of a valuable shawl. Air. Merlon's horses fairly flew over the roadway, and across the treacherous marsh. What did he care tor horseflesh now, when human beings were ia dan ger P " Bear up a lilt'.e longer," said one of the doctors to a man whose nalc face showed terrible marks of suffering, "help is near at hand." The man smiled; but ere the fleet .iorses had finished their work he was it rest. "Injured internally," said the; sur geon. " Hio help tor him." There was no time for sentiment or ceremony. The groans of the suffering ;il!ed the ears of the volunteer nurses, md Mr. Merton had scarcely touched the ground before he was greeted with appeals from oil about him for blankets, brandy, ether, bondages in fact for all the needed hospital stores. " Merton." said Dr. Sharp, when he had assisted him in removing the few articles he had brought, " they tell me your brother-in-law was on the train, but I have not se n him. Better keep a little brandy yc urself, and find him at once." Mr. Merton looked everywhere. Some of the victims were still imprisoned by timbers which men wer3 removing as r.-toidly as possible; others sat or lay upon the ground, hearing their pain as best they could. It was impossible to pass any by when a little assistance wight save them, nnd moments seemed like hours to the tilllicted ones. " I cannot find him," said Mr. Merton a? he returned to the doctor; "are you quite sure he was here P" "Do you mean Montague, the rich merchant in town P" asked a man who wsts sitting near by, holding his broken wrist until his turn came to be treated. " Yea, my brother-in-law." " He was here, sir; he sat in the seat before me; and just before the smash came tho conductor spoke to him and called him by name." " I must not give up the search," said Mr. M. rton. " Were you on the right side of the car P " " Yes, sir, and I was sent down the embankment over there with half a dozen others; perhaps he is there." " No, he is not," said Dr. Sharp, " the men brought them all up long aeo.'' Mr. Merton was not satisfied. A whistle was soon heard, and in a few moments the confusion was increased by the arrival of the train with supplies of all sorts, and a large corps of sur geons; the company had done all iu their power to relieve the suffering cuu:-ed by the carelessness of an ignorant flama . There was no time to look for the missing man now; every able-bodied person was needed to assist the surgeons and prepare the train for taking the wounded back to town. "Mauricp," said Mr. Merton, "blan ket yo -r horses and search everywhere for Mr. Montague ; do not leave a corner of the place without examination." Maurice obeyed, and was not seen for some i ime ; when he returned, his mas tin; was assisting the surgeon in a case of amputation, and the tender-hearted Irishman dared not speak to him. The operation was at last over, and a good woman was feeding the patients some stimulants, when Maurice ventured near. " I think I have found somebody, sir. You see it's so dark now it's hard tell ing who, but I went down over the side there and I heard a woman singing, and sez I, it's a queer bird that will sing and the lues of this going on; so I waited a bit, and shure it was a woman singing, loud as you plaze, ' Pull for the shore,' andlsez, 'Where are ye nowP" And then it was all still saving a groan, and then she sang again. So I said as loud as ever I could, 'Are you hurted, and do ye want help P' and she called back : ' A gentleman is here, badiy hurt ; don't let them leave us.' " ' And where are yeP' si z I. " ' Just behind a bin rock on the left side of the swamp near the woods,' S'-zshe. I called back, Be aisy now till I speak to the gentleman,' and here I am, sir." "conductor," said Mr. Merton, spring ing up, " can you spare a ianternP" " Sorry, sir, but every one is in use t the doctor uave mem an." Mr. Merton would not despair. " I will erive vou a hundred dollars for the use of a lantern fifteen minutes," said he; "there are one or two of the victims in the swamp still, and I must find them." "Is that so P We will see what can he done." The conductor went out, but did not return : he was needed elsewhere. Bril liant fires were already built on one side oi the track, and around them were fathered the children and wounded passengers. Their light only made the outside darkness more terrible. Mr. Merton tried carrying a faggot from one fire with poor success, as the wind blew out the flame. " Let me help you," said a lady, whose face was sadly scratched and had just been dressed. " If you will borrow one of the lamps from the cars, I will punc ture holes in one of these lunch baskets and improvise a lantern." "Madam, you will never understand how much I thank you. Maurice, ask two of these men to come with us, and do you lead the way." Over the frozen ground, over broken timbers, glass and debris of every de scription, the little rescuing party made their way. The embankment was al most perpendicular, and so slippery that Mr. Merton found it difficult to retain his hold on the uncouth lantern. A lit tle more than halfway, down Maurice paused. " I hear her, Bir," said he, " she is singing another tune now." "Halloa!" he cried; "we are coming to help you." "Good," replied the voice, "he is very weak now ; be quick." Once more she sang; this time that well-known air, "Never give up." The men grew more and more eager to reach them, and Mr. Merton in his haste slipped and fell, causing the light to go out. "Sing on, sing on," he cried; "your voice must guide us." Still she sang ; her voice was growing hoarse now, but her spirit?never failed . Cheered by her, and guided as well, the rescuing party at last reached the rock. " Who is with you P" asked Mr. Mer ton, as he nearly fell upon a prostrate form. " I do not know," said she; "he is a gentleman who was badly wound ed I am holding my thumb on an artery to keep him from bleeding to death; be quick and save him. Where is your light?" " Gone out. Has any one a match P" One man had. "Thank Heaven, it is my brother!" exclaimed Mr. Merton, as the light dashed in the face of the wounded man. Unknown to the rest, Dr. Simp had followed directly behind the party, and was Boon ready to relieve the faithful girl " You will please get up, miss," said he; " you must be very tired if you have been here ever since the accident " "I cannot without help," she said, quietly. "I think my leg is in jured. I crawled here to him when I saw him bleeding so, and the rock hid us irom view, sol sang lest they should leave us." "Gentlemen," said the doctor, "make a chair of your hands and carry this brave girl up the embankment; send us down a stretcher as quickly as possible, and I will soon have these patients cared for." Rapidly, skillfully worked the sur geons, and faithfully the assistants. Nearly an hour afterward Doctor Sharp looked into the car reserved for the wounded ladies, and found the oung girl looking worn and pale. " Has a doctor examined vou wound yet, miss P" "No, sir," sue replied, famtlv. "others need them more.1' Without another word Doctor Sham lifted her in his arms, and placed her on one ot the mattresses. A whistle brought one of the surgeons to him. "Doctor." said he. "can vou assist me for a few momentsP" "Certainlv. Whv has this been so long neglected P" he asked, as he exami ned the injured limb. " She has been savins a man from death, the one we just dressed, joti know." Never in all her life before had Marv Grey been considered worthy of so much care. Wto had been a hard thine to her since her father died, and left her mother with seven to care for. She had hoped for an education, and her bright est, best dreams were ot teaching school. But it could not be; and Mary worked day after day in a large room with hun dreds of other crirla about her. stifnliinor stitching, until her eyes ached and head drooped. She had taken the train at four to go only to the next station, where her mother and the boys were waiting foi her with a royal Christmas greeting. It cost less to keep them a little way out of tue city, ana mother lound work for them all. Mary's great gift was her poice. She had taken a few lessons before her father died and the great change came: but now she only knew the sonss she heard others sing, and she dared not trust her self to think of the music she so much craved. Itwa3 "a bad fracture." the doctors said, 'a very bad one," and the marvel was how the girl had endured the agony and still sung on in a clear, triumphant tone. "Have that young lauy taken to mv house," said Mr, Merton to the doctor. " Better try the hospital," said a sur geon; "it will be a slow case, and they tell me she is very poor works in Bright ti uregory s snoe jactory. " I wish her to be taken to mv home." said Mr. Merton with emphasis. "I wish papa would come," said Ethel : we need the gentlemen so much now to put up our last decorations." ' lliey will soon be here," said her aunt. "Your uncle is still a boy and enjoys a good frolic with your father." it was midnight before thev came. and the house was already prepared ior them ; for Maurice had gone back and forth twice for needed articles, and all the toy oi the morning was turned to sadness. "Mrs. Montague." said Dr. Sham. when Mary Grey was comfortablv set tled in a luxurious bed. " this brave eirl saved your husband's life; some time when you can listen I will tell you the l hanits to a good constitut'on, Mr. Montague gained raDidlv. while Marv improved so slowly that her kind friends andjher mother were anxious about her, and often consulted with the Dhvsician. " Only the overwork of years past tell ing now, " said the doctor. " II s he were rich girl and could go abroad bv-and fcye, she would return made over.'' " Ethel." said Mr. Montague one dav when the child had hovered about for an hour.trying to do something for him. "I was bringing it out to you when the accident occurred." "Oh, papa dear, I never wanted it; we kept you, and that was best of all, for I had been so wicked." " But your present was ready and Is now, dear; I put six hundred dollars in the bank for you on the twenty-fourth, ana your Dans: book was about me somewhere. I did not bring you a dia mono, my aarnng, out its value. " " And the diamond, too, papa. What is Mary but. a sure diamond: and now you must let me spend every penny ct the money on her, or I can never be ulte happj." When Marv Grey recovered. Mr. Mon tague provided for her family, and his daughter paid for her tuition, and only yesterday Ethel said to her cousin : " Maud, dear, next ChriBtmss we shall hear my Christmas diamond sing. Pro fessor Park says her voice is wonderful strong, sweet and pure, like her own dear sell." "When she sings." said Maud. " T shall think of that dreadful night when in cold and darkness she gang to save Uncle Charlie." "The Beanty or Baldness, A great change has taken dace of late years with regard to tiie estimation in which baldness is held. Fifty years ago it was viewed as a serious infliction, a inisioriune to oe concealed oy a wig or velvet skull-cap. In some cases, no doubt, the wig was intended to deceive, and to give a iuvenile appearance to its wearer. In the majority of cases, how ever, the covering was so plainly arti ficial, that ii was clearly adopted not from a motive of vanity, but sfmnlv tn hide an unpleasant object from the eyes of the world. Of late years, however. partly, it would appear, from the hahit of wearing beards having come into fashion, baldness is far more common than it used to be. It mav be that nn. ture furnishes to each human hpinn- . sufficiency of what may be called hair ointment to support an average quantity of hair, and that when men allow their beards to grow they do so to the detri ment of the natural covering of the seal p. Certain it is that a large proportion of men with beards begin to grow bald at an abnormally early ace. Hitherto. however, thev have, when been willing to allow that they regarded the lack of hair as a drawback to their personal appearance. They will now be inclined to take hieher crmmH. fnr tho British Medical Journal tells us that in a lecture on baldness, Professor Fournier says : " There is nothing ridiculous or malformed about it, and it confers upon the physiognomy an expression of wis dom, experience and venerabilitv. It adapts itself marvelously to certain heads, which would be detormed by a wig, ana is me severe oeauty represented in SCUlDture bv tin classic, heart nf 3chylus." This is consolation in deed. Henceforth let men bow before the severely beautiful; let there be an end of the use of unguents and oils, and let depilatories take their place upon the toilet table. Let the thoughtless and giddy keep the hair on their heads, but let all who value the possession of the severe beauty of iEichvlus eet their heads as bald as a billiard ball without an instant's delay. Mothers by Proxy. In New York citv there has recpntlv been established a kind of kindergarten, wuere me cunaren oi women who work by the day are cared for durinc Hm mother's absence. A reporter says something about the enterprise, as U 1- lows: In one room were about twentv chil dren, varying in age from two weeks to five years. Theolder ones were playing, while tlie smallest were carried about in the arms of nurses. Though thev were poorly clad, and the little faces bore the traces of poverty, vet thev seemed contented. Ti.e dark eyes and swarthy faces of the little Italian chil dren present contrasted strongly with tue Riue eyes anu naxen hair of the children ot Celtic origin. In nn adja cent room were about a dozen cradles, two of which were occupied. A dining- room ana an omce in the rear complete the establishment. 'The entire cost of conducting t lie school," said Mrs. Miles, the superin tendent, "including salaries, is about 100 per month. The mothers of the children leave them here at seven o'clock in the morning, and call for them again at seven in the evening. If they leel able to do so they pay five or ten cents a day, so they may not feel that it is a charity too keenly. As many can not afford to pay this, we never ask for any fee for attending to tha children. As the mothers cannot take their chil dren with them in going out to work, they wero formerly left to shift lor themselves. They would naturally run out into the street, mix with other chil dren more degraded, and the conse quences may be imagined. The diffi culty we have to contend with is, that we have no regular source of income. but have to depend on occasional contri butions." How a Tenor's Voice Sayed a Man. Paris Gallienani tells a cood gtorv f tue tenor uucnesne, wno was the hero of an incident during tho fighting at Chateaudun. the anniversary of the rir. iense oi wuicn place has just beeu cele brated. It was ten at night; the Paris Franc-tireurs, who had been fighting nn uay against, ouub uj iwenty tx) one, were retreating, iiie rrussians were masters of the town, which was lighted up oy me Durning iiousss. JDievcn wounded Franc-tireurs, abandoned in the Hotel de Ville, had fallen into the hands of the enemy and were in dancer ri .j a ui ueiug ciecmeu. Among tuem Was Duchesne the lyric artist. They were all searched and their papers examined by a Prussian captain, who, in looking through Duchesne's portfolio, came across a paper containing the names of a number ot operas. "What is thisr" he asked. ' It is the list of oneras T sing." Among others was the name of Weber s great work. "Ah." returned the captain, who was a musician. " vou ate an opera singer, and have sung in ' Dnr FVfciaclmtz.' Jtf hnra waa ili-nii. 'Id Paris, at the Theater Lvriaue.' "men i must uave heard you; you sang with one of our countrywomen, M'lle Schroeder, did younotf" "That is so " The captain appealed to reflect : he drew Duchesne aside, and then while passing through a narrow street, said " Kun for your life." Duchesne did not wait to be told a second time: although wounded he was not disabled, and suc ceeded in escaping from the town during me nigut. Since 1821, it is calculated in some lately published and carefully nrenared statistics that at least 3,500,000 Germans have emigrated, and of these 3,000,000 nave gone to tue united states. He tween 1821 and laiO both vears inclu sive, the total number of emigrants was only 8,000; bttween 1631 and 1810 the number reached 177,000; between 1841 and 1850. 485,000; between 1851 and 186 1. 130,000; and between 1861 and 1870, D70.00U. rom 1870 to 1872. inclu sive again of both years. 270.000 em! grants left Germany, but in the i even years which followed, from 1873 to 1879. the whole number only amounted to ;u,wo. FiBH, QlftSBH A5 HOUSEHOLD, Manure for Orchaidi. Wood ashes are, doubtless, excellent for orchards; but, instead of being put around the trees, they should be spread over the whole land. But where are the ashes to come from, in this region P We have little or no wood, and, ot course, little or no ashes. In our limited ex perience we have learned one thing iu regard to orchards, as well as fruit trees of every kind, that we have cultivated ; and we believe the principle can be ap plied pretty much to everything that grows upon the earth, which is that the application of manure benefits them all. Ground occupied with fruit trees shc uld be manured as liberally as are other portions of the land used for the raising of wheat and corn. It is the neglect to do so, in connection with the general negligence with which orchards are treated in many sections, that make them unprofitable nnd to become worn out prematurely. And as to the kind of manure with which orchards ought to be treated. While any kind, almost without exception, will prove ot ad vantage, there is none in the world to be compared to stable or barnyard ma cure. A liberal application of this only every third year, with careful pruning, scraping, and washing of the trunks of the trees, will make a prodigious change in an orchard. This top-dressing can be applied at any time when the ground is not .frozen, and, it not bestowed in too heavy lumps, so as to injure the (or chard) grass, will yield, in addition to the fruit, a couple of tons of good hay. We have known three full crops of good grass to be cut from an orchard. (?er mantown Telegraph. Barriers Burned Away. The burning of the clay of a garden is an old and often a ve ry complete method of rendering the soil permanently mellow and friable, and ol greatly adding to its fertility. A little English manual, " Manures for the Many," gives a method ol doing it on a large scale, and the Journal of IIorticulture says there is no doubt ot its immediate and perma nent advantage. If this were always the case, one should expect to see the sites of brickkilns and other large fires ovenun by luxuriant weeds from flying seeds, instead of remaining sterile ior a length of time, as frequently observed. It is easy, however, to test the matter in a small way where tough clay makes gardening all but impracticable. The roasting of earth for potting flowers is common, but it is resorted to chiefly to secure the destruction of pestiferous seeds, germs and insects. The clay le ferred to in the pamphlet was so tough and adhesive before being burned that the workmen were obliged to diD their spades constantly in water to cause it to slip on the metal. A stack of wood was built up five feet across and high, with kindling in the center, and a gutter to supply draft. The clay around, except ing that ot the somewhat lmmoved-sur- facc, was then thrown on in open lumps lo about a foot deep, and the fire started and watched. Fresh clay was added when any part of the clay on the heap became burning hot. When this last was heated, a long hooked iron rod ws used to break down and distribute the tire so as to enlarge it. More wood was laid on, flat this time, and over it more clay, which had been taken out ready so that the wood could be covered quickly This breaking down, extension of base, and renewing, was repeated until all the clay had its sticky tenacity and other bad qualities roasted out of it. rbo succeeding crops are described as having been amazingly tine. Keclpei. . Fbuit Joiinntcake. Two cuds ol sour milk, one teaspoonful of r-aleratus. one tablespoonful ot butter, ouo heaping laotespoontui ot sugar, one cup ot ready cooked fruit which you happen to have, that win not color the cake, as apple, pear, peach or quince sauce, salt and thicken wi'h corn meal and bake quick. Fried Bkea.d Pudding. Take astale loatot baker's bread; cut in slices; beat up six eggs, stir them into a quart of milk; dip the shce3 into the miik and eggs; lay them upon a dish, one upon another, and let them stand about un hour; then try them to a lieht brown in a little butter; serve with pudding sauce or syrup. Butteked Apples. Peel a dozen an- plest, first taking out the cores with a thin scoop. Butter the bottom of a nappy or tin riUh thickly; then put the apples into it. Fill up the cores with powdered sugar. Sue powdered cinna mon or grated lemon peels. Pour a little melted butter over them and bake twenty minutes. Serve with cream sauce. Cream Potatois. Pare and cut the potatoes into small squares or rounds. cook twenty minutes in boiling water and a little salt. Turn this oli', add a cupful of milk, and when this bubbles up a tablespoonful of butter, with a tea spoonful ot water; wet up with cjld milk; also a little chopped parsley; sim mer five minutes and pour out. Fattening Swine, When hogs are belne fattened in Dens there should always be two apartments, the one for feeding and the other for sleeping in . The one should be cleaned daily, and the other kept well littered with straw, and the straw renewed as often as the nest becomes very dirtv When first penned, mix with the feed of each hog at least three or four times a week a teaspoonful of sulphur and also teaspoonful ol pulverized copperas. Feed regularly three times daily. A rubbing post in the inclosure will be of advantage. Also place in a trough under shelter a mixture ot rotten wood, pulver izea cuarcoai, asnes ana salt. These methods or an open range are indis pensable to the good health of the herd Nutritive Qualities of Fodder. The DroDortion of nutritive matter in one hundred pounds of the following suostances is as ioiiows : Flesh. Fat- loruiers, torwers, pounds, pounds. Clover hay ' 134 30 Timothy eg 48 uorn iu m Oats 13 HI Wheat bran 14 60 Shorts 10 50 Buckwheat bran 64 48 Potatoes 9 21 Apples 4 U Mangels 1 0 The whole of these amounts may not De digestible, but they serve to give good idea of their relative value. Condiment! for fowl. A moderate quantity of cayenne Den per, mustard or ginger can, with great benefit, be added to the food of fowls to increase their vigor, and to stimulate egg production. This diet, although apparently artificial, is really natural; for wild birds of the gallinacean family have nccess ti very many highly-spiced berries and buds articles that give the "game flavor 'to their flesh. Although there is more or less of an aromatic principle in wheat, Indian corn and other grains consumed by the domestio fowl, yet the quantity is not sufficient to supply the place of the stronger spices, a taste for which is inherited by the fowl. Making Butter In Cold Weather. Strain the milk into pans that have been previously rinsed in hot water; put it on the stove for a lew minutes ; then remove it to the place in which you usually keep it. See that it is not too cold. The next day put it on the stove again, make it very warm, and re turn it as before. Skim it into an earthen bowl, pour oft the thin cream that will naturally fall on the sides ; stir everyday; the third day stir it with your hand or butter ladle; when nearly come pour in the thin cream by degrees ; if with the former, pour some boiling water on some bran, rub ycur hand well with it, then rinse. There are some cows that will naturally make frothy cream, and should be disposed of. The way to try them is to strain the milk into sepa rate bowls, skim and stir with a spoon. Bedding for Cattle. There is no farm work, considering the outlay, that pays so large dividends as the procuring of some sort of bedding for the cattle, for it not only keeps them clean a great point in itself but also promotes their growth and thriftiness, and the additional accumulation for the manure pile will more than pay for the labor. There is usually a large amount of litter that goes to waste that if thus utilized would be of great service. Straw, oats, cut corn butts, etc., are valuable, and fine sand is not objection able, for in itself it is one of tho most cleanly of beds, and as it is a iarge ab sorber of liquids, and is of real benefit to clay land, there is no solid reason why a few loads of it may not be j :di. ciously used. A farmer of our acquaint ance late in the fall takes his trucks, puts in long stakes, and makes a four-foot-deep box and gathers forest leaves. One man gathers them with rake and basket. These leaves are stored away in an unused stable, and what can be crowded into a bushel basket makes a fine bed for a stable of cows tor a couple of nights, and are fine absorbents. There is no farmer but that can provide bed ding of some kind, and also have dry, wholesome stables for his cattle, and. if he consults his interests, and once fully tests the value of plenty ol bedding, lie will always ia the future practice bed ding his cattle and stock. Protection for Trees, Trees, shrubs and roses should be pro tected by putting long straw around the body and branches, tied well with cor'!, so as to prevent growth iu the month of March, or warm weather toward spring In many parts of this country the cold weather, after a commencement of growth, destroys more trees and roses than colder weather iu the earlier p irt of winter. Those who observe the above directions will be very certain to keep their trees and shrubbery alive, and and it is only a few minutes work in. proportion to the investment, Treej recently set are not in so much danger from severe cold weather as the sudden changes, and protection until acclimated is absolutely necessary. Earning a Living. It is very hard to understand how the uttSd of men live in this or any lavKC itv. where everything irom a wink of tleep to a m uthtutof food, must always bo paid tor. liut r, is much harder to understand how women eko oat a ouV 3istence ; ior they have far les.i strength, interior health, and generally much lower wage3. It is estimated that some 60,100 women in and about thh city alone earn their own living, nnd thai the number steadily increases from year to year. They are ot all grades, from erirau's to tashionablo modistes, book keeper', artists and managers. A num ber of them are mombeis of intel lectual professions, fcuch as medicine, ournalism, lecturinir, noting Not a fow of them cam a good deal of money, notably actre.-bps, milliners and dress makers, and often they acquire a han l some independence. Tue profits of actresses are probably higher than th' ae of any other feminine calling; then come milliners and next dressmakers. Lecturers have hitherto made consider able L.oney Anna Dickinson cleared, it is said, $40,000 in one year but recently tho public has cared very little tor them, the business having been overdone and the quality of the lectures having grown very poor. A number of women who have done very well at it have been obliged to retire irom the field for lack ot patronage. Actresses. on the contrary, command higher sal t. ries aud secure more lucrative engago-4 ments than ever. But t ;ey must have talent, some power of attraction. They cannot, as many women believe, ru6h upon the stage without any meital en dowment, and get suddenly rich. Mil liners and modistes, after they have gained a fashionable reputation, thrive famously : but they are necessarily few. The bulk of the sex employed as seam stresses, saleswomen, teachers the teachers who do well are exceptional copyists, and the like, get very meager compensation. It is calculated that, of the hO.OCO feminine workers, the aver age earning is not over $ to $t.oo a week. How thev can pay their board or purchase food and shelter with such a pittance eludes comprehension. And then, it should be remembered that the majority ot them provide tor others tn well as themselves ; for it is a general rule that anybody who can earn money is sure to have dependents. Ordinary servants, ot whom very tew are Amen can, are said to be more comtortab e than educated and refined laborers f native stock. They get from fa 50 to 4 a week, and have good food and lodging included, which is a most important consideration. While many American w men would materially improve their CDiidition by going into the kitchen, they surinK irom doing so because n seems menial, and our born republicans hate t be menials. For a woman to earn her own living is far harder than shows on the surface. To some women it is little leas than tragical. Lizards have been found imbedded in chalk rocks, and toads have been dis covered in wood, blocks of marble, and omer situations, wtere, to all appear ances, they must have been entombed for manv veara. Rnaila nnd nhamolonna it has been repeatedly asserted, will live U)vii an nioiie, AUT0M4TISM. Cnrloue Eflecta of Cnrioui Camel on Man and Beast, We are not left to the unaided study of our mental processes for proof that the human brain is a mechanism. In the laboratory of Professor Goltz, in Strasburg, I saw a terrier from which he had removdd, by repeated experiments, all the surface of the brain, thereby re ducing the animal to a simple automa ton. Looked at while lying in bis stall, he seemed at first in no wise different from other dogs; he took food when of fered to him,"wa3 fat, sleek and very quiet. When I approached him he took no notice of me, but when t he assistant caught him by the tail he instantly be came the embodiment ol fury. He had not sufficient perceptive power to recog nize the point of assault, so that his ke.per, standing behind him, was not in danger. With flashing eyes and hair all erect the dog howled and barked furi ously, incessantly snapping and biting, first on this side and then on that, tear ing with his forelegs and in every way manifesting rage. When his tail was dropped uy the attendant and his head touched, the storm at once subsided, the fury was turned into calm, and the animal, a' few seconds before so rageful, was purring like a cat and stretching out its head for caresses. This curious process could be repeated indefinitely. Take bold of its tail, ai d instantly the storm broke out afresh; pat his head, and ail was tenderness. It was possi ble to play at will with the passions of the animal by the slightest touches. During the Franco-German contest a French soldier was struck in the head with a bullet and left on tho field for dead, but subsequently showed sufficient life to cause him to be carried to the hospital, whero be finally recovered his general health, but remained in a men tal state very similar to that ol Professor Goltz's dog. As he walked about the rooms and corridors oi the Soldier's Home in Paris, he nppeared to the stranger like an ordinary man, unless it were in his apathetic manner. When his comrades were called to the dinner-table he followed, sat down with them, and the food being placed upon his plate, and a knife and fork in his hands would commence to eat. That this was not done in obedience to thought or know ledge was shown by tho fact that his dinner could be at once interrupted by awakening a new train of feeling by a new external impulse. Put a crooked stick resembling a gun into his hand, and at once the man was seized with a rage comparable to that produced in the Strasburg dog by taking hold of his tall. Thefury of conflict was on him; with a loud yell he wou'.d recommence the skirmish in which he had been wound ed, and, crying to hts comrades, would make a rush at the supposed assailant. Take the stick out of hii hand, and at once his apathy would Bettle upon him; give him a knifo nnd lork, and whether at table or elsewhere, he would make the motions of eating; hand hlmaspado and he wonld begin to dig, It is plain that the impulse produced by seeing his comrades move to the dining-room started the chain of automatic move ments which resulted in his seating himself at the table. The weapon called into new lite the well-known acts of the battlefield. The spade brought back the day, when, innocent of blood, ho cultivated the vineyard of sunny France. In both the dog and the man just spoken of, the control of tho will over tho emotions and mental acts was evi dently lost, and the mental unctions were perlormeJ only in obedience to impulses from without i. c, were au tomatic. The human brain is a com plex and very delicate mechanism, so uniform ia its ueii'jns. so marvelous in its creation lha: it is able to measure the rapidity of itsown processes. There uve scarcely two brains which work ex actly with tli-a same, rapidity and ease. One man thinks taster than another man for reasons as purely physical ns those which glvo to ono man a faster g iit than that of another. Dr. IT. C. Hraod, itt LippinacU. Punched nnd C:ipjc:I Coin. Punched aud clipped coin seeim to ba incre.ising rapidly, and it is already a sourcaot vexation to many, and of loss to small dealers. The practice of drill ing pieces of coin as playtliinu for chil- ren has always prerni lea to a limited extent, and, although it is wrong, it is not done with wrong intent, and ihe number of pieces drilled for this purpose is insignificant in comparison with the number which are drilled, punched or clipped for the sole object of gain. ueaiers generally would be pleased it a law could be devised which would en able them to refuse mutilated coin with out giving offense or loiing customers; ut it is doubttul it such a law cou a no devised. Something can be done, how ever, to abate the nuisance, jf not to abolish it; and it is the special province ot business men to do it. Tney should not only decline it at their pUces of busi ness. but they should refuse it in the saloon, the restaurant, the cigar store, tho street car, the m .rket, and in a'l other places. It is competent for Con gress to pass an act prohibiting tho cir culation of such coin us money, hut tho government would be incompetent to enforce the law, and it woult be unwiso to make a crimo of what is considered an indifferent action. If the business men in every cemmunity would do their duty in the premises, their example would be followed, and mutilated coin would become srarce. Braditrett's. He Smiled a Lucky Smile. There was quite a scene in the Galves ton court-house the other day. A young lawyer had just finished an impassioned appeal, and dropped, as he thought, into his chair, but missed the chair. As he struck the floor there was an explosion, as if a young cannon had exploded. creating much excitement. The prevail ing opinion was that a pistol had ex ploded in his hip pocket, but, upon rais ing him up, it was lound that he had flattened out a beautiful silk hat. It seems that an old bun re k less member of the bar was to blame for the explo sion. When the young lawyer was about to sit down the eider pulled the chair away, but he had lorgotten that his own silk hat was under that very chair. The rider lawyer laughed bois terously until he identified the mutilated hat as his own, and then he smiled suou a siekly smile that, had it been photo graphed and sent to tho Houston bj.ird of health, they would have been fully justified in quarantining at once. He says that is no way tor a man to try on a bat, anyhow. Qaleiton New$,
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