J . V. 4.'
HENRY A. PARSONS, Jr., Editor and Publisher.
NIL, DESPEKANDUM.
Two Dollars per Annum.
VOL. XI.
RIDGWAY, ELK COUNTY, PA., THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 1, 1881.
NO. 28.
mm
' , Vhat Is the (Jain?
Vht is the gain?
H 'mo should rnn a noblo race,
And at the last, with weary pace,
Win to the goal, and find his roars
- A harvest field of waste aud te'ars,
Of tnrmoil and of buried trust,
Itioh with dead hopes and hitter dust,
told strife and sneer and ceaseless pain,
What is the gain?
What is the gain?
When, having reached a sunlit height,
Through barren sweeps ol gloomful night,
Hoping to see beyond the crest
Fair lauds of beauty and of rent,
There lies before, stretched far away
Unto the confines of the day
A desolate hud shadoless plain,
What Is the gain?
What is the gain?
To sail for months of cold and toil
Across wide seas, where winds recoil,
Only to gather strength and roar
A louder challenge than before.
And iiiid, when through fogs thick and dun
The rocky coast at last is won,
No haven from the storm-vexed main,2
What is the gain?
What is the gain?
The race is won, we see the light,
We conquer where the storm-winds fight;
We show the way to those who wait
With faint hearts by the walls of fate;
Our banners nutter in the van
Of battles fought for thought and man,
Aud iguoiance aud darkness wane,
This is the gain.
A WIDOWS' PROPOSALS;
Or, Testing a Lover Worth Having.
CHAPTEB i.
" " My dear Mrs. Hartley, what can 1
say more to convince you of the truth?"
" Nothing, Mr. Roberts. I am not a
girl now, but a woman of thirty."
" Barely not. You don't look twenty
five."
- Mrs. Hartley's eyes opened a little
more widely, and she gave Frank
Roberts so bearching a look that he saw
that he had made a mistake, and hast
ened to try aud recover lost ground.
"You doubt me again," he whinnered.
" I tell you that in my eyes you do not
seem to lie twenty-five. Mrs. Hartley
Julia why an you so hard upon the
man who loves you with all his heart i"
" lie-cause I am a widow, Mr. Roberts,
and trouble has made me hard ana
woriily."
" It, bwjuie you were married to a
xu'iu nil-1 co.iii not appreciate youi
woitii, i.uii who il'il not do his duty bj
jo.i."
" wiipi us'' v." say no more about
ltti iiti)i.u i, Mr Unbelts," said tin
Luly, ciii iis. ilr. Hartley was a just
man, i. if h ails sIl-iu."
" Yes, rvs, foui-e," said the other
"Oh, wliut n unlucky wretch I am
Here am 1 trying to advance my cause,
I came to tho picnic on purpose; 1 hav
implored you to listen to me, and here
I am constantly saying things you don't
like, and making myself stand lower iu
your favor tLau I did a month ago.'-
"Nonsense, Mr. Robeits," said the
lady, smiling, and her face wore a very
winning txpres-tion asshe spoke. "Why
cannot we ri-uiain friends as we have
been before ? hy," she added, laugh
inc, " should I marry again ?"
"Why?" he whispered, passionately,
ard certainly Frank Roberts just then
looked very mauly and handsome as he
pleaded his caiihe with the lair widow.
" Why ?" he whiepered, bending toward
her; "as a duty as a woman to make
the man happy who loves you with all
his hi art and soul. Oh, Julia, be mer
ciful to me when I plead to you like
this, when Oh, Heaven 1 this is too
bad. You are laughing."
"Guilty, Mr. Roberts," said the
widow; " but how could I help it when
I find you talking to me like a hero in
a story. I can only think it droll, and
of course I laugh."
" If I did not know you to be all that
is tender and lovable and good," he
cried, " I should think your heart was
of Btone."
"Now you are trying the compli
mentary tact, Mr. Roberts, and you
know what I taid about my age. Flease
do remember that I am not a young
girl."
" I remember nothing but that I love
you passionately," he cried, "and that
I would do anything, even to plunging
into yon river, if it would make you
happy."
"And pray how could your doing such
a silly thing as jumping into the water
and getting muddy and wet make me
happy ?'' she asked, merrily.
" You would be happier if I were
dead," he cried, tragically.
"Good ' gracious,' not" she cried.
"There's plenty of room in this world
for both. But now look here, Mr. Rob
erts, you say you have fallen deeply iu
love wi'h me."
" I adore you," he cried, rapturously.
. "Heavens, what a goddess 1 must be,"
she said, merrily. " Well, then, you
worship me, and I understand from
your discourse, Mr. Roberta, that you
would do arfythiug to make me happy."
"Indeed on my soul I would."
" There is no occasion to Bwear it, Mr,
Roberts," said the widow. " Proof will
do."
" How can 1 prove it ? Tell me," he
cried.
" By talking no more nonsense to me
for the rest of the day."
" Mrs. Hartley I Julia !"
- "And by taking me at once back to
the slope there, where they are spread
ing the cloths, and giving me some dm
ner."
. "I will," he cried.
" For I feel half starved goddess
though i be," she said, mockingly.
"But one moment more," he said.
"No.no, nor half a moment," she
said, firmly. " We shall have the erood
natured people of the party making all
. kinds of unpleasant remarks about my
invoious oiuiavior as it is.
" Why should we care for the ill-na.
tured remarks of the malevolent ?" he
exclaimed.
"I dont know whether you need
care," she said, quietly, " but I care a
great deal, and I do not disown it. 111-
natured, scandalous remarks make me
feel uncomfortable. Now, Mr. Roberts,
will yon give me your arm, or shall I
walk back alone ?"
" My arm my hand my heart 1" lie
exclaimed, passionately. "Oh, Julia I"
" Gracious, man," she cried, flushing
with impatience, "didn't I tell you that
I was horribly hungry ? Goddesses
want feeding like other people, and we
had just made a bargain that you were
not to talk any more stuff. There goes
Miss Rollton, young, sanguine and fas
cinating, waiting for a cavalier. Go
and talk to her. She'll enjoy things
that only worry me. Why, what a silly
man you are to want to marry an elderly
widow, instead of some nice, bright
young girl."
Frank Roberts, the handsomest nan
iu the large party, heaved a deep sigh,
and offering his arm led the lady back
to where beneath the umbrageous trees
the substantial cold collation was rap
idly being spread, and soon after Mrs.
Hartley was seated upon an overccat,
folded into a cushion, and dining with
excellent appetite off the various viands
of the feast.
chapteh n.
The scene of the above mentioned
conversation was a pleasant green path
in extensive grounds on the bauks of the
river Thames at Oookham. The place
was dotted with well-dressed people,
forming atoms in the whole of the great
picnic being held on as lovely a June
day as ever added beauty to that charm
ing portion of our national river.
It might have been supposed that
upon such a day happiness would have
ruled supreme; but it was not so, for sev
eral members of the party were not in
the best of tempers.
For instance, Mrs. Hartley, beneath
her pleasant smile, felt anything but
content. More than that, she was rather
bored. The protestations of Frank
Uoberts troubled her. She liked him
well enough, but she had her doubts of
his stability, and a suspicion had planted
itself firmly in her mind to the effect
that he cared more for the handsome sum
of money left unconditionally to her by
her late husband than he did for her
handsome face and thoroughly honest
heart.
Then, too, Mr. Frank Roberts, after
contriving his opportunity to make a
declaration, had been so dissatisfied by
I ho result that he had gone aside, after
placing his inamorata in a good place,
to obtain a glass of lemonade, and swore
ut the attendant for not putting in moie
sugar.
Doubtless there were other discon
tented swains and ladies, but with them
we have nothing to do, but will turn at
onre to n couple who were stroilr.ig
ilowly by the river's brink; an elderly
man with bent shoulders and white hair,
mil one about middle age, slightly griz
zled, and with a massive head and
thoughtful face, that would have been
plain but for his magnificent gray eyes.
"Hah 1" said the elder, in a sour tone
of voice, " some men do make fools of
Miemselves; and how can you be such
an idiot, Morris, as to let that showy
butterHy of a fellow carry off a really
qood little woman from under your nose
I Can't think. I always fancied you
loved her."
"So I do, doctor, with all my heart."
1 Then, hang it, man, marry her."
" What, and make her unhappy .-doctor?
No, I love her too well for that."
"Stuff and nonsense, man I"
"It is no stuff and nonsense, doctor.
She cares for Roberts. Look at them
yonder. Why should I interfere ?"
" .because it isn't right, and I don t
like it. That fellow Roberts is a scoun
drel, I'm sure; and all he wants is the
widow's money; and as soon as he had
got that he would break her heart.
Hang it, man, go and cut him out. Go
and propose."
" I did, doctor."
" Well ?"
" She bade mo wait; asked for time.
I esteemed her delicacy, and have
waited. There is the result."
" Humph 1" said the old doctor.
"Well, I'm sorry deuced sorry. Hart
ley was a very old friend of mine, and iu
his last illness he said to me : ' Of
course, it's natural that my dear young
wife should some day want to marry
again. Watch over her, doctor, and see
if you can that she does not become the
prey of a scoundrel. Tie your money
up tight,' I said to him. No, doctor,'
he said, ' I love her too well to insult
her like that. God bless her I've
every confidence in her. She shall do
as she pleases, and I thank her for bear
ing so long with the whims and caprices
of an old husband.' Ha 1 it's a strange
world."
Luke Morris nodded his head and
joined the party at dinner, where he
tried to cast on his gloom, and fate
throwing him near the pretty widow, he
was quiet and polite to "tier, almost to
the point of reserve; but through all she
could read a chivalrous respect to her
feelings, and she knew that he had seen
her interview that morning with Rob
eits. Directly after dinner the doctor came
up smiling and asked Mrs. Hartley if
she would take a stroll with him. She
agreed with alacrity, telling herself that
sue would then be free of lovers; and
they went down to the river's side,
where, in the course of a long conversa
tion, the doctor turned it into a series
of remarks concerning the early life of
tne late Mr. Hartley.
" As good and true hearted a man as
ever I knew, said the doctor.
"He was, indeed!" said the widow,
and she wiped away a very genuine tear.
" I esteemed him as much as any man
I ever knew, for I think he tried hard to
atone for the past.
"Atone for the past, doctor ?" said
the widow, wonderingly.
" Ye es 1 The way he got his money,
you know."
"Got his money, doctor?" cried the
widow, turning pale. " What do you
mean r
" Well, my dear, it's hardly worth
raking up; but I always thought it my
duty to tell you in ease you felt dis
posed by a few acta of charity to try and
make up for what there was wrong in
it."
"But, doctor, " she said, excitedly,
" pray explain yourself."
I i" There, there, don't be in a flurry,"
he said, taking another pinch. "No
body knows it down here; but Hartley
used to keep"
He leaned forward and whispered
something in her ear.
"Oh, doctor I" she cried, turning pale
and then bursting into tears. " What
have you done ? I could never be happy
again if I kept that money. Oh, how
dreadful I"
"Hush, hush, my dear child; what
are you talking about? What nonsense.
It wasn't you fault."
" No, indeed 1" she said. " But sooner
than keep money got in that manner
I'd go and perform the most menial
duties."
" But yon don't mean to say you
would give it up?" he said.
" Give it up? Every penny, doctor,"
she said, with her eyes flashing and
cheeks flaming. " I could not keep a
shilling. I could not do it, and Yes,
Mr. Roberts. Thanks, not now; I would
rather sit hero for a while; or, no, I
will go for a walk with you, if you will
have me," and darting a sorrowful, half
angry look at the doctor, she roso, took
Frank Roberts' arm and they strolled
away.
"How lovely the country is," said
Roberts, before they had gone far.
" Delightful I" she replied, dreamily.
" I could live here forever with a
sympathizing heart," he said, with a
sigh.
"That sounds a long time, Mr. Rob
erts," she said, quickly.
" Oh, no," he cried, " not with you.
The days would glide by like a dream of
bliss."
"And what about the years, Mr. Rob
erts, when I had grown old and plain ?
You forget that I am your senior, and
that I am not a girl of twenty."
" I forgot nothing, and yet 1 know
nothing," he exclaimed, "only that you
are the only woman I could love, and
that I love you with all my heart."
"Indeed?", she said, laughing.
" Why, what can there be in me a
poor, penniless widow of thirty, to at
tract so handsome and young a man as
you?"
"Mocking again," he said, appealiug
ly. " How you love to torture me,
Julia."
" Excuse me, Mr. Roberts; lam Julia
only to my nearest and dearest
friends. What is more, I am not mock
ing. What I said was the simple, sober
truth."
" What 1 that you are a poor, penniless
widow?" he said, laughing.
"Yes," she said. "From this day
forth a little annuity of eighty pounds a
year is all I have on which to live."
"You are joking with me, Mrs. Hart
ley," he said, laughing; "but why do
you tell me all this ? What do you "sup
pose I care about whether you are rich
or poor ? To me you will always be
rich in every virtue, and now once more
listen to my prayer."
"les, when 1 have undeceived you,"
she said. " Mr. Roberts, it is my duty
to let you know my true circumstances.
I feel assured that you nave too gener
ous a heart to have approached me
from mercenary motives."
" Thank you, and bless you, he ex
claimed. "It is you only that I love."
" Under these circumstances, then, I
have concluded, as I am poor and the
handsome incomt I have enjoyed goes
from me at once, that it would be un
just to you to accept your generous
offer to make me your wife. We will
remain friends, then, Mr. Roberts, but
that is all."
"Do I understand you aright?" ho
exclaimed.'
" Perfectly," she replied.
" I shall try and bear it," he said, in a
resigned tone of voice; " but iiever while
this heart beats shall I cease to love you
or to pray for your welfare, dearest Mrs.
Hartley."
" Thank you, Mr. Itoberts, she said.
quietly; and somehow, instead of their
steps taking them farther from the
company, they began to approach them
rapidly, joining a group of ladies, and
in a few minutes Mrs. Hartley was with
out a cavalier.
CHAFTKB III.
" I always doubted him." she said to
uerseir. "tie did want me for my
money. Heavtns, what a wretched
world it is for a man to be protesting and
swearing as he did, and then to give up
so easily as soon as he heard that I was
penniless. Well, thank Heaven, that is
one escape.
She remained very thoughtful for a
time, for there was the other proposal
of marriage she had received, the one to
which she had promised some day to
give an answer.
Suppose Luke Morris, the ouiet.
thoughtful, manly student, should prove
to be as sordid as Frank Roberts.
As she mused upon this, hardly heed
ing the babble going on all around, she 1
trembled at the glance within which she
obtained of her own feelings. It came
upon her by surprise that she really
loved this quiet, middle-aged man in
despite of his plain features and stern
ways.
"And suppose he did prove to be onlv
a money-wooer? Oh, it would be dread
ful 1" she muttered, as the tears started
to her eyes.
She had hardly dashed them away
before she saw Morris approaching slowly
and thoughtfully, and in spite of the
suffering which she knew it would cause
her, she made up her mind on the instant
to open the ball by telling Mr. Morris
of her altered circumstances.
"Ah, Mrs. Hartley," he said, approach
ing her with his grave smile and extend
ing his hand, "other people engross
you so much that it is only by chance
one can get a word with you. May I ?"
He offered his arm, and trembling
and changing color she took it, and he
led her along the river side, both of
them being silent, for he was thinking
deeply, and she was beating about for
words to commence what would be to
her now a most painful subject.
one len that she was growing more
and more agitated, and as if sooner than
lose him, to whom she now realized that
her heart clung, she would retract her
intention of giving up her late husband's
ill-gotten store.
Luke Morris relieved her of the diffi
culty of speaking by commencing him-
aeii.
" My dear Mrs. Hartley," he said " a
pionio party of pleasure seems an ill
chosen time for speaking to you, but
theio are nmllois of such urgent import
in tilir liveq that wo nro compelled to
seize any opportunity for saying what
perhaps may prove distasteful things."
" Yes of courso exactly," she stam
mered. "There," he said, turning upon her a
grave, kindly smile, "I meant to speak
to you in plain and simple words, and I
find myself, old as I am, as agitated as
some youth. I will try and be plain."
" Yes," she said, quickly; " please,"
and her breath came shorter in her
agitation.
" I have just learned some vory seri
ous news."
"Indeed?" she said, her voice shak
ing in spite of herself.
"Yes. I have learned from two
sources that yonr Jate husband's fortune
leaves yon at once, and that you will be
almost penniless. Is it true ?"
"Yes," she said, "quite; and you
have come to say that I was not to think
anything more of what you asked me a
short time back."
He looked at her half surprised, half
hurt, and then smiled sadly.
" May I ask you one question ?" ho
said.
" Yes," she repliod, in a quick, sharp,
agitated way.
" It is a plain one, but my happiness
depends upon your reply, and I ask you
boldly, have you promised your hand to
Mr. Roborts?"
"No I" she cried, with her eyes flash
ing scorn, " nor to any such mercenary
creatnre."
"Then there is hope for mo, Julia,"
he said, in a low, deep voico. "A
month back I folt that it was presump
tuous to ask yon, and that my sent
ments might be misjudged. It is still
presumption on my part, but I cannot
bo charged with iiordid motives now,
and I am glad that the money I looked
upon as an obstaclo is no longer there.
1 cannot oiler you much more than a
comfortable home, but I will try and
make that home rich, Julia, with the
devotion of a life."
She panted and trembled and tried to
speak, but her emotion choked her, and
so overcome was she by tho different
way iu which matters had turned, that
in spite of her strength of mind, she
broke into a passionate burst of hysteri
cal weeping, and unresistingly mobbed
herself calm upon his breast.
Luke Morris blessed the thick clumps
of bushes that Lid them from the rest of
the company, and be blessed the day
Mrs Hartley's poverty he blessed her
for letting him draw her unresistingly
closer and closer to his breast, where
she sobbingly told him that she Rhould
only be a burden to him for life, and
finally she walked away with him,
radiant and happy, and with her cheeks
and eyes telling tales.
They passed Frank Roberts soon after
with one of the Grant by girls, a rather
plain brunette, with a handsome posi
tion; and Roberts looked a little con
scious, though he need not have
troubled himself, for the blush on
Mrs. Hartley's cheek was called forth
now, not from meeting him, but on ac
count of meeting the old doctor, who
looked curiously from one to the other.
" May I tell him, Julia?" whispered
Morris.
"Yes."
" Uoctor, Julia Hartley has prom
ised to be my wife," said Morris,
quietly.
" Has she ?" cried the old man, and
his scarred, wrinkled face lit up with a
broad smile. " I'm glad of it. Julia,
my child, I m glad of it, for you ve
won a true, sterling man for a husband;
and as for you, Morris oh, I'm ashamed
of yon you mercenary dog."
" Mercenary t 1 mercenary," ex
claimed Morris. " Well, come, that is
good. Why, you told me an hour ago
that Mrs. Hartley s fortune was gone.
"To be sure I did."
" And it is quite right," said Mrs,
Hartley. ' "At least it will be gone."
"Not it, my dear," said the old doc
tor, chuckling. " That was a dodge of
mine to try for you which of your lov-
ers wae worth ? having, it was my
touchstone, and you see it showed you
at once that Roberts was base metal,
and Morris here true gold."
" But do you mean to say, doctor, '
cried the : lady. " that what you said
about Mr. Hartley s property was un
true?"
" Every word of it, my dear."
" Then you are a base, cruel, wicked
old man; if my. poor dead husband,
whom you called ycur friend, could
know how you defamed him "
" He would slap me on the back as
he used to do, my dear, and call me his
true friend for securing by a trick a
genuine honest man for his wife, in'
stead of a heartless, mercenary scoun
drel; and, (iod bless you both, 1 wish
you joy."
Mrs, Hartley only exclaimed " Oh I
aud wheu the doctor pressed her hand
she evidently forgave him. for she
pressed his warmly in return. But
when Frank Roberts found out the
truth, he was furious, and called the
doctor a bad name, that perhaps
would be as well not to mention here
while he said it again for the benefit of
Luke Morris on the morning when he
led the pretty widow to churoh to
change her name.
Heavy Gambling.
" What is the biggest winnings you
ever knew or t i asked ol an expert
enced mew xorker.
"I have heard many fabulous stories."
said he, " but I will speak only of what
1 know. J saw lien wood, former pro'
priotor of the Daily News, one night at
a game of faro, a game made up of
gamblers, win $125,000. He borrowed
82,500 from Judge MoCann to begin on
and he went away with every pocket
stuffed with checks and bills. The
cigar seller in the gambling rooms told
me that Wood that night smoked $70
worth of cigars.
"That is impossible."
" A fact, I assure you. He took cigars
costing about $1 each, and lighting one
end began in his nervous way to eat the
other, and in about two minutes he
would take a fresh one." Correspondent
St. Louti Republican,
A Boiling Lake.
Professor Henry A. Ward, formerly
of the University of Rochester, N. Y.,
ih writing letters touching his travels in
iNew Zealand, some of which detail
singular experiences. In his last he
says : I came from Auckland by
steamer south for 125 miles along the
east coast to the town of Tamanga. I
hired a twenty-ton cutter and started
to visit the sea volcano. Wc sailed all
night and at daybreak we had before us
great mountain of black scoria, 8110
feet high, from the top of which, with
much force, went white clouds of vapor
to a height of fully 2,000 feet. Reach
ing tho shore it was not easy traveling,
for in places the black pebbles of the
beach were V stir with water boiling
up through th i water so hot that a
misstep might scald the foot seriously.
At this point the crater wall has been
broken down almost to the sea level and
we could look into the great hollow isl
and. The crater is circular, a full mile
in diamotor, and hemmed in by walls
many hundred feet high and very pre
cipitous. Tho crater floor was an un
even plain of volcanic ash and scoria,
with many littlo fumarolos or blow
holes, through which hot sulphur va
pors came wheezing out, while every few
minutes there was beneath our font a
smart trembling and a low, dull rolling
roar. Tho smoko of vapor began to
thicken as wo went along and wo soon
found tho cause. We were stopped
short by a great lako of stoarn-
tig water, quite filling this end
of tho crater, and being, as we could
see when the clouds lifted, nearly half
mile from either side. The water wa
too hot to comfortably bear the hand in
t, and was further insupportable to
either toueh or taste by a strong infu
sion of alum and sulphuric acid which bit
painfully at any scratch or sore upon
our skin. On the further border of the
lake and half around its shore was a
row of the most violent solfataras I
ave ever seen. They had built for
themselves littlo pillar-like cones from
ten to thirty feet high and a yard or
two in diameter at its base, and through
these open chimneys they were irumpct-
ng steam and roaring sulphuric- gases
with a violence that was frightful to con
template, and such demoniacal screech
ing and din as ailiicted our ears, even ns
the long distance where we stood. We
dragged the rowboat along the vol
cano's floor and launched it upon the
boiling lake. The water of the lako
was of a milky opaque cast, but wo
could feel with our oars that it was in
most places not over ten feet deep.
Lines upon the shore showed that it
daily rose and fell slightly with the tide
of the sea outside. In many spots tho
water was boiling furiously with so
much froth and foam, while etill its heat
was much below the boiling point of
212 Fahrenheit. These were dangerous
places, the abundant air in the water
diminished materially its buoyancy, and
our boat sank alarmingly low in cross
ing them. We landed across the lake
at one of the solfataras nearest to the
beach and proceeded to demolish it
with our oars. It was a chimDey about
two feet in diameter, clay without, and
within it was lined with crystals of sul
phur of a beautiful straw-yellow,
splashed with vermilion spots. Pushing
in the top of this chimney the frafi
nients would first fall down its throat
and then come flying put into the air,
with explosions that were amusingly
like a prolonged stentorian cough.
How Easy It is to Pie. .
If I had strength to hold a pen, I
would write how easy and delightful it
is to die, were the last words of tho
celebrated surgeon, William Hunter;
aud Louis XI . is recorded as savinf?.
with his last breath, " I thought dying
had been more diiheult.
That the painlessness of death in
owing to some benumbing influence
acting on the sensory nerves may be in
ferred from the fact that untoward ex
ternal surroundings rarely trouble tho
dying.
Uu the day that jiord uoiiinfewood
breathed his last the Mediterranean
was tumultuous; those elements which
had been the scene of his past glories
rose and fell in swelling undulations
and seemed as if rocking him to sleep.
Captain Thomas ventured to ask if he
was disturbed by the tossing of the
ship. " No. Thomas." he answered,
am now in u state that nothing can dis
turb be more I am dying, aud I am
sure it must bo consolatory to you and
all that love me to see how comfortably
I am coming to my end.
In the Quarterly Review there is re-
luted an instance of a criminal who es
caped death from hanging by the break'
ing of the rope. Henry IV., of France
sent his physician to examine him, who
reported that after a moment's suffer
ing the man saw an appearance like fire,
across which appeared a' most beautiful
avenue of trees. hen a pardon was
mentioned the prisoner coolly replied
that it was not worth asking for. Those
who have been near death from drown
ing, and afterward restored to conscious
ness, assert that the dying suffer but
little pain.
Captain Marryatt states that his sen
sations at one time when nearly drowned
were rather pleasant than otherwise.
" The first struggle for life once over, the
water closing around me assumed the
appearance of waving green fields. It
is not a feeling of pain, but seems like
sinking down overpowered by sleep, in
the long, soft grass of the cool meadow."
Now, this is precisely the condition
presented in. death from disease. In
sensibility comes on, the mind loses
consciousness of external objects, and
death rapidly and placidly ensues from
asphyxia.
A Tied Wrist.
Boys are too often cured of bad judg
ment by a melancholy example, or by
suffering for it themselves. The Meril
lan (Wis.) Leader relates a sad and fatal
accident that will suggest carefulness to
all who read it.
George Ives, a boy twelve years old,
started t j ride one of his father's horses
to water with the halter fastened around
his wrist. The horse ran away, with
him, throwing him off, and dragging
him on the ground and among the
stumps, crushing "his head and one arm
almost to a jelly. Hp. was alive when
picked up, but died in a few minutes.
THE FARM. AXD HOUSEHOLD.
Chloride of I,lme.
he CuUirinfeur, a French journal, says
tht if chloride of lima be spread on
the soil or near plant", insects and ver
min will not be found near them, and
adds: By its moans plants will easily
be protected from insect plagues by
simply brushing over their stems with
a solution of it. It has often been no
ticed that a patch of land which has
been treated in this way remains relig
iously respected by grubs, while the
unprotected beds around are literally
devastated. Fruit trees may be guarded
from the attacks of grubs by attaching
to their trunks pieces of tow smeared
with a mixture of hog's lard, and ants
and grubs already in possession will
rapidly vacate their position. Butter
flies, again, will avoid all plants whose
leaves have been sprinkled over with
lime wat.
Urnftlna the Urnpe.
The past twenty years I have grafted
and propagated many thousands of
grapevines In my greenhouse and in
the field; have tried almost every month
in the year, and I find April or May the
best time, or when the buds are just
bursting or pushing; then no sap will
trouble or drown out the graft, as is the
case when the grafting is done in the
fall or early spring, as heretofore recom
mended. Hueh grafting will moBt sure
ly jirove a failure. I use no wax; clay
is much better; but the scions must be
kept balk. Graft below ground on
young, thrifty plants. No good grafter
would ever think of grafting old snags
or old trees that ought to be cut down;
and so with old vines that have been
neglected and not renewed, they are no
better than old snags, and it is time
lost to try to improve such self-exhausted
and worn-out plants. Nor can graft
ing be done by every one without
experience. No grafter is always suc
cessful in grafting the apple or pear,
much less iu grafting the grape, as it is
quite a different process, although quite
simple to one who knows how. Canada
Farmer.
Liberal I'sc of.tlanurr.
J. Bridpeman, of the Elmira Farmers'
club, illustrates the value of the liberal
application of barnyard manure by the
following story: A story of my early
observation comes to my mind. When
I was eighteen years old my father was
going away from the farm for a few
days, and he gave me a task to perform
in his absence. It was to draw out ma
nure to a lot assigned. I had a young
associate, Perry Stowell, to help me,
but neither of us knew how closely the
loads should be placed, so we drew
seventy-five loads with a yoke of three'
year-old steers and one horse as our
team, and when we had finished it was
found that wo had put all those big
loads on an acie and a half. That was
more than thirty years ago, but the
ground that was dressed so heavily has
m all that time never forgotten the ap
plication. If I plow it for grain I get a
bigger crop than from any other like
area iu the field, it brings more corn,
more grass; in fact, it feels that manure
to this day, although I cannot suppose
any of its substance is left. The fact
is it made that acre aud a half so
much better than other laud alongside
that bigger crops were a matter of
course, and the very fact of raising big-
cer crops implies more refuse matter to
decay in the soil and so maintain fertility
in the first place imparted, in this case.by
the seventy-five loads of manure. There
is always a stiller sod, stronger growth
on that land, making it worth enough
more to pay for what at the time was
considered wasteful use of the manure
American Xhcep.
It is a reproach to the farmers of
America that we are compelled to import
much of the wool with which to make
our necessary wearing appaicl. WTe
want more and better sheep than we
have ever had before, and instead of
this being a market for foreign wool
the current should be turned the other
way. The best we can do, however, it
will be a long time before we can spare
any of our wool in foreign markets, and,
indeed, we may feel proud when our
production is snmcient to fairly mee
the home demand, which it must be re
membered is being very materially aug
mented by emigration to our shores,
while upon the other hand there is a
corresponding decrease in the demand
iu the countries Irom which these emi
grants come, owing to the same cause.
One obstacle to a more general sheep-
raising has been the seemingly depressed
condition of the wool market for many
years, in view of the fact, how
ever, that the losses of sheep during
the last winter were greater than of any
other kind ol stock, the gradually
strengthening demand at the present
time would seem to warrant the general
belief that flockmasters will not have to
accept mean compensation for their
labor. Drovers' Journal.
Recipe.
Spiced Apple Tabts. Rub stewed
tart apples through a sieve; sweeten
and flavor with mace or cinnamon; line
soup plates with a crust, fill with the
apple and lay bars of crust a quarter of
an inch wide over the top of the tart,
Uake till the crust is done.
Plain Puddino. Here is a recipe for
a good and simple pudding: One pint
of Hour, halt a cup of sugar, thiee
quarters of a cup of sweet milk, one
tablespoon ful of butter, two teaspoon
fuls of baking powder. Bake for twenty
minutes; serve with any good pudding
sauce.
Tomato Sotrp. To one quart of water
add eight large tomatoes; cut them in
small pieces, boil for twenty minutes.
then put in half a teaspoonful of soda:
let it boil a few minutes more, then add
about a pint of sweet milk; season as
you would oysters; bread crumbs, sago,
parley or nee may be added.
Riok Fbuit Pcpdino. One large tea
cup rice, a little warm water to cook i
partially; dryr line an earthen basin
with the rice; fill up with quartered
apple or any frnit you choose. Cover
with rice; tie a cloth over the top and
steam one hour; to be eaten with sweet
sauce. Do not butter the dish,
Mowing.
Into the fields both young and old
With gay hearts went;
The pleasant fields, all green and gold,
All tflowera and scent.
And first among thorn old man Mack,
With his two grandsons, Harry and Jack
Two eager boya whose foot kept time
n rest loss fashion to this rhyme:
Sharpen the scythe and bend the back,
Rwiug the arm for an even track;
Through daisy blooms and nodding grass
Straight and clean must the mower pass.
There are tasks that boys mast learn, not found
In any book
Taaka on the harvest and haying ground,
By wood and brook.
When! waa young but few could bring
nto the field a cloansr awing.
But you must take my place to-day,
Cut the grass and scatter the hay,
So sharpen the scythe and bend the back,
Swing the arm for an even track;
Through daisy blooms and nodding grass
Straight and clean musttho mower.pass.
Straight and clean is the only way
You'll find that out
In other things than cutting hay,
I make no doubt.
So be sure through the nodding grass
Straight and clean with your scythe to pass;
It Is far better than any play
To mow the grass and toss the hay,
Bo sharpen the scythe and bend the back,
Swing the arm for an even track;
Through dai-sy blooms and nodding grass
Straight and clean must the mower uava.
llarperif Young Folks.
HUMOR OF THE DAY.
How is it that the dresses ladies want
to wear out are mostly worn indoors ?
Wit and isd .m.
The milkman evidently looks upon
his battered quart as a measure of
economy. Boston Trar-script.
A morning paper remarks facetiously
that " No man likes better to meat his
customers than the butcher. Vice
versa, it may be remarked that there are
lots of customers who don't liketon.eet
their butchers. Louisville Courier Jour
nal.
A Chicago woman caught a burglar
prowling around in her back yard one
night and threw him over a high fence.
This seems to confirm the theory that
American women are growing stout.
Cincinnati Stitwday Night.
A Leadville man in one week was at
tacked and scratched by a catamount,
hurt by an explosion, had a boulder roll
uown on mm ana stave in two rius, uuu
was kicked by a mule. And a lojal
ditor remarked that he had " been
Bomewhat annoyed by circumstances
lately."
"Billl hey Bill! yer daddy wants
you 1" " What does he want with me?"
roars Bill, waist deep iu the river.
"Guess he wants to make ye a nice
cane, howled Jack; " lie a tnmmin on
a hickory stick about three foot long."
13111, merely remarking that he is not
lame and does not need a cane to swim
with, strikes out for a sand island about
a hundred yards from tho Burlington
shore. Hawkey e.
The Newspaper iu a I armhmise.
People who live near the great thor
oughfares, where they have access to
two or three dailies and a halt dozen
weeklies, do not fully appreciate the
value of a newspaper. They come, in
deed, to look upon them as necessities,
and they would as cheerfully do without
their morning meal as their morning
mail. But one must be far off in the
country, remote from " the maddening
crowd," to realize the full luxury of a
newspapor. The farmor who receives
but one paper a week does not glance
over its columns hurriedly, with au air
of impatience, as docs your merchant or
lawyer. lie begius with, the beginning
and reads to the close, not permitting a
news item or an advertisement to escape
his eye. Then it has to be thumbed by
every member of the family, each one
looking for things in which he or she is
most interested. The grown-up daugh
ter looks fc- ihe marriage notices, and is
delighted if the editor has treated
them to a love story. The sou who is
just about to engage in farming, with
an enthusiasm that vill carry him lar in
advance of his father, reads all the crop
reports and has a keen eye for hints
about improved modes of culture. The
younger members of the family come in
for the amusing anecdotes and scraps of
fun. All look forward to the day that
shall bring the paper with the liveliest
interest, and if by some nnlujky chance
it fails to come it is a bitter disappoint
ment. One can hardly estimate the
amount of information which a paper
that is not only read but studied can
carry into a family. They have, week
by week, spread before their menial
visiou a panorama of the busy world,
its fluctuations and its concerns. It is
the poor man's library, tnd furnishes as
much mental food as he has timo to
consume and digest. No one who has
observed how much those who are far
avay from the places where men most
congregate value their weekly paper
can fail to join in invoking a blessing
on the inventor of this means of intel
lectual enjoyment. Cedar Rairids Re
publican,
How to Eat a Watermelon,
Instruction in eating watermelon is
given by theHa-ltimare American, which
should be good authority, as it is pub
lished in the melon region. The hotel
plan of cutting a watermelon like a tu
lip, and putting a lump of ice in it, is
condemned, becanse ice should never
touch the pulp; but a buriaFot the un
cut melon in ice lor two days is wise.
Then cut lengthwise and eat between
meals. "People deal unjustly with this
fruit sometimes by eating a hearty din
ner nrst, and then topping on witn a
melon, a.id then if a moral earthquake
seta up in the intei ior they charge it to
the melon. The watei melon was in
tended as an episode an interludiwa
romance without words a noctur c in
green and red not ta be miugled with
bacon and greens. Its indulgence leaves
a certain epi gas trial expansion but
this is painless and evanescent. The
remedy is to looeen the waistband and
take another slice,"