Hates of Advertising. One Square (1 inch,) ono Insertion - fl OnoSquare. " nun inontli - 3 0T One Square " throo months - 6 00 One Square " on o year - 10 0 Two Squares, on year ... 15 Co Quarter Col. ' - - - 30 00 Half . " " 60 CO One " " - - - 100 00 IjflR&l notloe at established rates. Marriage and death notices, gratis. All bill for yearly advertisements col lected quarterly. Temporary advertise ments must bo paid for in advance. Job work. Cash on Delivery. in roiiusitRri kvkky wkdnhrday, nt ar. 33. wejntu: OFFICE Iff ROBINSON & BONNER'S BUILDING ELM BTREET, TIO'IIISTA, PA. TEH MS, 11.60 A YEAH. No Subscription received for a abortcr purlod tliim throo month. 'orropoii(lonoo noliciled lrom nil parta of the country. No notice will bo taken 0 anonymous communications. VOL. XIII. NO. 29. TIOKESTA. PA., OCT. 6, 1880. $1,50 Per Annum. The New Arrival. MA. A charming little tidily Mdy bit of mother's bliss; " A tiny toddlet, sweet as flow'rs ol spring; A precious popsy wopsy gives its mammy, den, a kis; A pretty dulling itsy witeyjig ! Tk. So that's the little lollow T I I'm ! A hoaltliy looking chop. Another mouth to loed, as suro as Into ! No, wilo, I don't osnfiiier that his coming's a mishap, . But still f oo aid have done with lo38 than eight. llltOTHER. My eyo! Is that the baby? What a jolly littlo pop ! But I Bay, ma, whatever is its nose ? And I say latlur, by-and-byo, when he gets more grown up, He'll wear my worn-out Jockots, I suppoje. UNCLE. Anothor T Well, thank gooJnoss, 1 -ffm not a married man. What ! Don't I think him pretty? No, I don't. To keep him lrom the workhouse you mimt do tho best you can; Doa't think that I'll assist you lor I won'tl DOCTOH. How are we getting on to-day ? I trust we boou shall mend. We mustn't think we're strong Jujt yet, you know, . W'd butter tuke a tometbing which this alter noon I'll send, And let me see hum ! ha ! ah yes jus so. NUKHB. He's lovely, that ho is, mum I See them sturdy little-legs ! He's twice the size ct Mrs, Smithers's third; ' And when he comes a-outting of his little toosey-pegs, - Ho'll be a ma i, he will, upoa my word. NEIGHBOR. Oh , yes, ilea-, be looks Healthy, but you mustn't truBt to that ' I do not wish, of course-, your hopes to - dash But when I see a tender babe, so ruddy, strong and fat, ' I Look, dear, on bis iaoe I la that a rash ? 0 Ma(daoapo). A charming little tiddy iddy hit of mother's bliss; ' A tiny toddles, sweet as flow'rs of spring ; A precious popsy wopsy rive its mammy, "X don, a kiss; pretty darling itsy witty ting ! a CHIPS, THE CARPENTER. " Chips," whom I knew for months by no other name, was shin's carpenter of the whaler Gazelle, of New Bedford. lie was twenty-six years old, six feel high, and m strong as u tree. Ha was tho favorite ol tho ship.indno wonder. Ho was tender and gentle, perhaps be cause he.wai strong; he was peaceful, because he was powerful. And the soft word which turneth away wrath, with the gentlo hand to. sootho a sufferer, arc often needed in the whale fisheries. ' Most of the foremast hands of the Gazelle were rough Portuguese lads, from tho Western islands, on their first voyage. They were treated with coarse contempt by the few American seamen and by tho officers. The only man who was kind and pa tient with the rude boys was Chips; and he was never tired of showing them or teaching them something of what he knew, 'lie was one of those unselfish fellows who did not believe in keeping knowledge to themselves, lie had never been to sea before, but during the first two years of this voyage he had attended to so many things besides his own easy work, that he was considered as one of the best and coolest whalesmen aboard. Although exempt from standing watch, he had insisted on doing the duty from the first day out. At night, if the weather was good, he would sit on the main hatch in the center of a ring of the Portuguese lads, and with ' wonderful patienc i teach them to make snlices and knots and to speak English, lie never tired of doing this or any other kindly thing for them. Intheday time ii there was work for him at his trade he sti 1 had them around him, ex plaining everything as he sawed or planed, as if he wis hed to make them as go 3d carpenters as He was himself. Qn Sunday, when every one brought his letters and pictures on deck, Chips showed the only signs of sadness we ever saw. He was the only one on board except myself who had neither pictures or letters, neither face nor . word to remind liim of home. When the ship touched at some port with a postotiice and every one ran for ' letters. Chips remained aboard he , knew there was none for him. In one of tho boys' albums he found a picture of an old w hite-haired woman the lad's mother and every Sunday afternoon he asked for that album, and always gave it back when he had turned and looked at that picture. The ship had been two years out when I first saw Chips. Through Btraage and unhappy circumstances I was afloat on the Indian ocean, in a small boat, when this New Bedford whaler hove in sight, and ran toward me. The first man to spring out in the niizz?n chains, to help me aboard, was etrong-handed Chips, with tears of sympathy in his eyes. On deck the captain met me with open hand . and heart, aud for eight months I sailed with the whalemen, and took part m the cood and ill that befell them. "Chips and I were friends from tho in stant our hands struck. Shaking Lands is one of the best tests of character. Some people snake your hand so politely that you feel they would care mighty liftle about shaking your ac quaintance; sqme men slip their hands into yours and make you feel as it you were squeezing a fish; some people's hands are so thick, and fat, and cold, that vou might as well grasp the fingers of a leather dummy. Most people, and nice peopleBhake hands as a preliminary to conversation ; but now and then one's Hand strikes into sympathetic palm, tho fingers take lull hold, the thumbs Interlock and close and when that friendly gasp isover.there is not'a word to be gain it spoke all friendly greeting in its own gcod language. Just such a kindly and grim grip did Chips give me tho first time we met. When I boarded the whaler I was in a had way forclothes; allthat belonged to me in the world were the few branded rags that I had worn in the boat. Sailors are used to such things ; and they know the remedy. Every one came forward with his little offering. One brought a hat. another a iacket, an- other a pair of sea boots, a jackknifc, a cake of tobacco and so on, until 1 had a bunk full of marine necessities. Chips had least to give of all, for he had shipped without a regular outfit. But when he saw all that had been given, erm in? at the rough boys as each one handed his offering, lie drew me off to his own cubby nolo, and hauled rouna his own chest. Out on his bed came tho contents; and in a minute there was a fair division of all it contained flan nels, shirts, stockings and everything to a handkerchief. These are yours and these are mine," said Chips ; " and I'll make you a chest to-morrow." That's the sort of a man he was in everything. No wonder the boys loved him, and that ttie one word spoken in the best tones of the ship was the name of the kind-hearted, manly Chips. He was as brave as lie was kind. When whales were chased Chips went down ia a boat, and there was no cooler head among them when the fragile shell was to bo laid broadside to a monster nearly as long as tho ship. Once when the boat was stove in by a sweep of the awful flukes in the death flurry, one of the boys was crushed by the blow and driven senseless under the water. When Chips came to the surface, he counted the heads and missed one, and down in the bloody brino he went, among the sharks, and fished up the sinking body. He was a mighty swimmer, and with only an qar to cling to, he held the senseless man out of water until res cued. . But, to the story. The Gazelle had been cruising for three months a few hundred miles off the coast of Western Australia the great penal colony of England and during that time had not fallen in with a single sperm whale. -" One . raw afternoon, with a harsh breeze and a rising sea, at last we heard the long, sing-song cry from the mast head: "He dIows! ther-re bl-o-ows!" Four times at regular intervals of about forty seconds the cry was repeated, and then we knew it was a sperm whale. lt'was about five o'clocx in the even ing when the first cry was heard, and the sun went down at 6 :30, with scarcely five minutes of twilight. As a rule, on board of American whalers, when whales are seen late in the evening, the boats are not sent down unless circum stances, such as weather, moonlight. and so on, are very favorable. In most cases the course of the whales and the speed of their travel are carefully noted When "on a coursn" a school ot sperm whales will move at the rate of about six miles an hour; when "feeding" they keep on the same "ground," not moving more than a lew miles a day When seen late in tho evening, the ship is steered during the night according to the observation, and often finds the school in sight in the morning, when the boats are sant down. This course was not followed on the evening in question. It was not a school we saw, but a "lone whale," and one of extraordinary size. The night Dromised to be a rough one, and tho whale's motions were strangely irreg ular, as if he had lost himself in au un known sea. There i3 something solemn and myste rious in the sight of "lone whales," and marvelous superstitions are current among whalemen respecting them. Though spending year after year on the ereat waters, whalers become more mi nrcssionable to supernatural things than other seamen, and long observations of the shoals or Bchools of the vast crea turcs they pursue tends to fill them with amazement and awe when they meet with a solitary leviathan who has aban doned all fellowship with his kind, who lives by his own law lonely, mighty and terrible. Soon atter the cry from aloft, we saw the whale from the deck, only a short distance from tho ship, and we might have seen him long before had not his white, bushlike spout been lost in the angry whiteness that was fast spreading over the sea. For a moment all byes were fastened on the long body, like a great black tube, over which the waves washed Every face was wonder-stricken at the immense size ol the whale. Captain Clifford had been examining him through a glass, which he handed in turn to each of his officers. " What do you say, Mr. HusseyP" he inquired of the first mate, who glanced at the sun ana answered: Go down, sir ; wecandoitP" " Mr. Joseph ?" and the captain turned to tho second mate, an old Portuguese of. extraordinary size, and perhaps the most famous whaleman alive. " Go down, Bir, if we want to get the fellow; we 11 never see him again." The two other officers were youuger men, and of the same mind. There was no time lost m further consultation. "Swing the boats!" shouted the old man. The lines and irons had already been thrown in by the crews. A "heave oh!" and a Biraiuing Bound, and in one minute tho tour btau struck tho water and the men were settled on the thwarts with the lontf curs out. The sun was low and large and red, and the whole western sea and sky were magnificent in crimson and gold and black. The picture was one of the finest ever saw. The rising sea was jet black, except where it was bloody; a broad road of crimson shimmered from the ship to the sun ; the long body of the whale, even blacker than the sea, w i plainly seen in the ruddy glare; and life was added to the immense scene by the four white specks the whaleboats closing to a point as they drew near the motionless monster. It was not until the boats had left the ship that we realized how threatening was the weather. Every moment the seas came wilder and heavier against the vessel. Only now and again, as they were lifted on a sea, could we catch sight of the brave little boats. The breeze grew stronger at every moment, and, before the first boat neared tho whale, was whistling through the rigging in the wild way that tells of a coming gale. The captain regretted the lowering of the boats, and soon signaled them to re turn. But the men were excited, and refused to see the signal, filled to the gunwale, the seas iashing over them every moment, on they went where only i 1 F i r . i - i. i .. l . a LUiug bo Deariy perieck as a wuaieuuuii could keep afloat. As the first boat swung round to run down to leeward of tho whale, the red sun stood fairly on the black field of ocean Talk about tho bravery of soldiers in battle, or of men ashore in any enter prise you please ; what is it to the brav ery of such a deed as this? A thousand miles from land, six men in a little twenty-eight foot sheli coolly going down in a stormy sea to do battle with the mightiest created animal! It is the extreme of human coolness and courage, because it is the extreme of danger. The soldier faces one peril the bullet. The whaleman, in such a dase as this, has three mighty enemies to fight the sea, the gale and the whale. We saw the harpooner of each boat stand up as they came within heaving distance and send in his two irons. Ail the boats were last before the monster seemed to feel the first blow. Then came the tight, the cruel and unnatural tigut between vast power and keen skill. The black water was churned white a3 tho flukes struck out in rage and agony. The sun disappeared and the gale screamed wilder in the rigging. We could no longer see the boats from the ship. The few men on board clewed up the light sail and took a reef in the top sails, and by this time the night was dark as pitch, and the gale had whipped and howled itself into a hurricane. It was tearful to think of the four small boats out in such a sea as was then running. We on the ship had to cling to tho rail of the rigging; the ter- nhc strength ot the waves swept the heavy vessel about like a cork. I saw the captain's face a moment as he passed the binnacle lamps, and ft was abso lutely deformed with grief and terror not for himself, brave old sailor, but for his boys in the boats. Who a at the wheel?" he shouted. ' Send a steady man to the wheel. Ay, ay, sin" answered in the dark deep, quiet voice; "Ive got the wheel." That was Chips, and I walked aft .to be near him. Just then a long hail came through the darkness, and we saw tho flaih of a boat's lantern on the lee quarter. In a minute more a line was llung aboard, and we soon had one crew safe on deck. It was the mate's boat. " Where are the others?" was the first question. Fast to the whale," was the answer. 'and there are no lanterns on the boat." One ot the men from! the boat relieved Chips at the wheel, and ho went for ward to rig lanterns at the fore and main tops. When this was done we stood together on the forecastle, looking and listening lor the boats, .suddenly he turned to me and said : " We re going to lose somo one to night. While I was at the wheel it seemed to me as it something whispered in my ear that we're going to lose one man to-night." 1 sai 1 that he was growing as suDer- stitious as old Ivanaka Joe, and he an swered: I can't help it. It did seem that heard that whisper, and so plain was it that i nearly dropped tin wheel in ter ror." Another shout from tho sea cut off further talk, and we soon had two more boats at the davits. Ihe absent one was Mr. Joseph's, and we knew that through thick and thin he would hold on to the whale. It wa3 hours before we found him, and when we did he refused to cut his line from the carcass. The captain cried to him that we could not hoid the whale in such a sea, but the whaleman cried back : He's a hundred-an' fiftv barreler. and if you don't take the line aboard. we ii stick to mm in the boat! ' boon alter, as the gale was moderat ing, the line was taken in, passing through a strong iron brace screwed on to the starboard rail just forward of the gangway amidships, from which it wa3 taken back aud made fast to the wind lass bits at the toot of the mainmast- It was a new line ot stout manila hemp, and its strength was put to a tearful test. A hundred fathoms astern of the ship it held the monster's carcass and as tho vessel rolled heavily to the sea the strain on the line was terrific Standing toward of it I laid my hand on the line as the strain came, and I felt it stretch and contract like a rope of inuia ruDDer. Mr. Joseph's boat had come alongside and the captain, standing on the star board rail, was shouting to him througl a trumpet. Tho line from the whale passini from astern to the brace forward and back to the bits amidships, made an acute angle, inside of which the cap tain was standing. I saw and noticed also, in tho dark, a tall man. wh seemed to be leaning against the line " 1 hope he is forward of it," I said to myseif as I we-t on with what I was about. 1 had no. taken six steps from th , spot wbtn something strange occurred The ship steadied as if the wind had ceased. There was no sound greater than the storm; but, instead, there seemed to fall suddenly a stillness. I ran amidships and grasped for the line in the dark. It was gone I A rush to the rail, and all was clear. The strain had torn out the brace. The mighty pull of the whale astern had jerked tho line straight, like the cord of a gigantic bow, and the captain, who had been standing on the rail, was struck by the flying rope and thrown senseless far into the sea. All this had been seen by the men in the boat before any one on board had realized the affair. In less than a minute the cry of "Saved!" reached us from Mr. Joseph, and, in a shorter time than can be imagined by a landsman, the boat was hanging from the davits, and the injured commander wa being cared for in his" cabin. Hum and hard rubbing are the potent remedies on a whaler, and by dint of these the captain opened his eyes in a quarter of an hour, lie had been stunned, but not seriously injured. He was amazed at first at seeing the mate and myself standing over him with the rum bottle. But without a word he realized the situation. " How is the weather P" he asked. "The wind has gone down," said Mr. Joseph. " We're under fore3ail jib and reefed topsails, and running right away lrom the whale." . " GoneP" said the old man. "Gone!" answered Mr. Joseph, rue fully. "Stanchion dragged, and the line parted, and $8000 went without an owner." Tell ChiDS to see to that broken rail," said the captain, closing his eyes drows ily. "Ay, ay, siri" said tue oiu second mate, us he stamped on deck. I heard him stop at the alter-natch. where the boat-steerer3 and the carpen ter lived, and call "Chips!" two or three times. At last there was an an swer in another voice not Chips; then round of hurried feet on deck, a shout down the forecastle, and a shout back in answer. There was no Chips there. Two minutes after a heavy loot came aft to the cabin stairs, and Mr. Joseph, with a white face entered. 1 knew what he had to tell. I knew now just as if I had seen it all who the tall man was whom I had seen lean ing against the line. The captain looked a; ine Becona mate. "Chios 13 cone, sir." said the old sailor, with a tremor in his rough voice ; ' Chips was knocked over by the line, and we've gone four knots since it parted. I've put her about, and we re running down again. There was a dead silence, we an knew the search was hopeless. No man could swim in such a sea, and we had a thought, though no one spoke it, that brave (Jhips had been kiuea by ine line before he touched the water. All night we beat about the place where we thought it had occurred, i he wind and sea fell, and the moon came out in great beauty to help our sad search. Every man on board stayed on deck till the sun rose, and then we looked far and vainly over the heed less swell of the sea. Chips was dead. Tue rough Portu guese lads found it hard to believe that the kind heart and strong hand of their friend had gone forever. We all knew that the best man in the ship was taken away. Two years afterward, when l lound mvsell in Boston. I took from my sat'red things a letter which I had found in Chips' chest. It was addressed to a woman, with the name and number ot a Cambridge 6treet. I found the place a small trame house, with lots ot i;hips handiwork around it. His mother met me at the door, a white-haired woman She seemed to have been waiting and watching for somebody. A few words told the hopeless story. The letter was for her. and he read it over thj letter of her only boy, asking forgiveness for his one great and only disobedience and as she read, the white head bent lower and lower, till it met the thin hands: and I turned and left the little room 1 had darkened, witn an its poor ornaments, useless now, and, as I walked toward Boston. I could not help think iag that God's ways ore often wofully far from being our ways. Jonx Boyle O Ukilly. Sympathy as a Softener of Law, Tlrev allow very wide scope to sym t' athy, as a softner of law, in France he case ol the uountess ae liny, re cently tried in a Parisian court, was em bellished by an outpouring of popular foeiing such as would scarce have been possible in other places. The countess was tried for having disfigured the face of a young laundress who had become the lavonte ol the count, her nusoano The girl was handsome, and vain enough of her conquest to tantalize the countess by boasting that madam would not live long, and that upon her death she herself would succeed to the title. Madame lost patience one day and discharged a bottle of vitriol full in her tormentor's face, destroying one eye and reducing the pretty features to mass of wrinkled scars. W hen the case came to trial the public took part. The jurors were publicly and passionately admonished, and entreated to acquit her. The newspapers were unanimous in her behalf. Her counsel Bhed tears while making his argument, which was based on wholly sympathetic grounds The DUbhc prosecutor made merely perfunctory request for conviction, and immediately added a plea lor leniency The iudga instructed the jury in her favor, amid the uninterrupted cheers of the spectators; and tho )urv at once re turned their verdict ot acquittal, 'amid. as the account says ' a .perfect storm o u pp lauH.e." Chimyo Time . Women, it is said, are more thorough in what they undertake than men are. Even in the matter ot conversation we have the evidence of her striving to the very uttertuofct Yonkert Stataman. A TERRIBLE FATE. now a Blind Man and a Cripple Earned Their Iilvlnv and Met their Death, At the mine known as " Filer's Slope," near Scran ton. Pa., a painful accident resulted in the instant death of a miner named Felix Slavin. and his assistant. John Dougherty, in the chamber where they were at work. 1 hey were c ngaged n taking down a "brio," or loose piece of coal, when a huge boulder, known in mining parlance as " a black sulphur clod," weighing about three tons, de scended upon them lrom the roof, killing both instantly, and crushing them to gether into a shapeless mass. A miner named Finnerty, working in an adjoining chamber, had been in a few minutes be fore the accident and warned Slavin and Dougherty of their danger, but they re plied that the loose end was onlyl" a little hell." and would not hurt anybody. When Finnerty heard the crash he knew whnt happened, and ran to where the accident occurred. To his horror he saw the miner and his assistant crushed by the "clod," their feet sticking out from under it and still moving. He called to his comrades, and a gang of men speedily congregated at the cham ber and engaged in the work of remov ing the houlder from the bodies. They found this a task occupying several hours. When it was finally accom plished, and Slavin and Dougherty were exposed to view, they presented a hor rible picture. Their heads were crushed together, and they were disfigured be yond recognition. Strong miners, ac customed to fearful accidents under ground, were compelled to turn aside and shudder as they contemplated the ghastly sight. A peculiar feature brought to light by this grim occurrence, and one that seems almost incredible, is the fact that blavin, the miner, had been totally blind from boyhood. Scarcely any other calling requires the exercise of such keen Bight, yet this unhappy man groped his way for years amid danger, and. trusting to the skill of his hands and the eyes of his assistant, plied his perilous vocation uncomplainingly. . His early days were spent in the mines of Eng land, where he learned the business and lost his eyes. He was quite expert in the use of the drill, and when his assistant once placed it accurately on the spot where the hole was to be drilled lor the olost, Slavin, without deviating a hair's breadth, made the hole at the proper angle, and then superintended how it should be fired. He hod been a miner thirty years without the use of his eyes, and managed to get along in a way that was altogether wondenui to contem plate, lie left a wife and three children wholly unprovided for. His companion Dougherty,-who shared hii late, was also his companion in misery, having been a cripple from childhood. He was physically weak- and decrepit, and in reality was nothing more than the eyes tor blavms skill and brawny arms Some days before the accident George Filer, one of the owners of tho mine. conscious ot the danger these two men were daring, gave them notico that he could not employ them any longer; but they pleaded pitcously to be retained, saying it was the only way they could t hink ot making a living, and so Mr. Filer permitted them to remain. The black sulphur clod by which these two men were killed is a good deal like lead in appearance and weight. A Humorist's Ancestors. How much happier were our ances tors than ourselves. Why. 1 was tell ing my son this morning about his ancestors, and I just envied them When they awoke at sunrise, they just kicked off the bearskin, dipped them selves into the creek, if there was a creek handy, and didn't if there wasn't, hung a wolfskin over their shoulders, and they were dressed lor the dav This was long ago, because we upme of 1 1 x ;i r I i a very oiu iamiiy. our iamuy recoras show that our direct ancestors had the handsomest cave in their range of moun tains, and a stranger couldn't get up in the night for a drink of water without falling over a skull. And they never had to do a stroke of work. All day long the gentlemen hunted, not so much for sport as for meat. And the ladies stayed at home and talked gossip and chewed wolf-skins to mako them solt and pliable for children's winter i loth ing. A man didn't go roaring ard swearing around his room in the morn ing, in thsse good old times, with his eyes full of soap, groping lor the towel There was no such thing as soap, and they had no uso for towels. And they never worried about salaiios and the price of commodities. When they want ed anything they stole it. and when they couldn't steal it, in a sublime spirit of contentment, they went without it, And politics never worried them either, The man with the biggest c'.u'j and longest arm was president by a unani mous vote every time, and the man who objected to the election was promptly sold to the O.iio medical students in the interest of science, Those were the days when a man could run tor president on his shape. They were god men, these ancestors of mine, in tneir day. I am not ashamed of them, because I have no reason for thinking they were ashamed of me, and it they can stand it lean. They were more reliable than I am. They prayed oftener and made more noise ubout it, and they had more gods than they had words in their lan guage. They fought a little, stole some, and lied a great deal, and swore every time they thought of it, but they never played croquet, and were proof against the vanity of roller skates. There were some good things about them after all. The best thing I know about them is their distance, their remoto antiquity. I revere the rare good sense which prompted them to live and get through with It and die, about threo or lour thousand years before their more fastid ious descendants wanted the Btago for their brief hour. It. 1). liurdttle. New York city lias school accommo dations for U4.353 pupils, the averagn attendance is Iu8,558, and the teachtV Vitri agregato $2,353,050.15. FIRM, GARDEN AUD HOUSEHOLD. Stable Ventilation. Too much attention cannot be paid to the matter so all important to the health of domestic animals, and to those per sons who have the care of them. The necessity of making animals comfort able in their yards, stables, stalls or pens of giving them an abundance of pure air. keeping them clean, dry and warm, of giving them the light and the warm sunshine, of locating tue barns property, so that a southerly and pleasant ex posure may be had, so that the cold north winds mav be warded off and the sloping and dry yard may be enjoyed by them the importance of all these matters is not sufficiently considered nor properly appreciated by the farmers. lhe close packing togetner in low, damp, dark places of horse3, cattle una . swine is in effect just as pestilential among these animals as similar con ditions are among human beings. From the excessive development of the breathing apparatus in the cow and horse, the activity ot the cutaneous function, the accumulation of animal substances and the evolutions of gases from excreta, it should be seen that at mospheric contaminations are con stantly going on in all stables, and that pure and abundant air lood is conse quently withdrawn from the Btabled animals, unless unusual care be taken and great discretion practiced in the construction ot t ieir abodes. In the best regulated stables, cleanliness and an abundance oi pure air, nguc ana warmth alone can insure the health, comfort and useful life of our farm stock. American Cultivator. Ilablta of the Uraases. The majority of the grasses mostly highly valued for pasture are gregariou in habit, and seem to tnrive Detter when several species are mixed together than when each is growing separately. Many interesting experiments have been made in this direction, and all show that for a good permanent pasture a mixture i i several species oi a similar uauiu ia better than any one alone, x here are. it is true, exceptions to this rule, princi pally found in localities where some par ticular species is especially adapted to a certain formation or kind of soil. For instance, the Kentuckv blue grass will on some soils take entire possession and crowd out other kinds, while in others it will scarcely holds its own against imothy. red top, and similar well- known species. Some of the species are especially valuable for hay, others for pasture, owing to their aiuerenc nanus of growth. For hay the farmer wants a grass that grows moderately tun and comes to a maturity early, and If several are sown together they should all mature at the same time, liut in pasture different species should be sown, coining on at successive periods of flowering, in order that some one or other of the number my be in perfection at almost any time during the summer and autumn. It is by having some such combination of a considerable number of species that tiie farmer should seek to secure a rich pasture lor his stock the season through. The roots of grasses are almost as variable in form of growtli as the stem and leaves, .borne have long fibrous roots that penetrate the soil to a great depth, and these are adapted to lieht. poor soils; while others, like tim othy, are almost bulbous in form, with a lew xong fibrous roots extending from the base, the latter requiring a rich and rather heavy soil. The fibrous-rooted and low-growing species usually pro duce a close, compact sward, while the others form at most small tufts or bunches. Many of our valuable indi genous species grow in bunches; hence the very common name,-" bunch grass " applied indiscriminately to at least a score of different species ol prairie and mountain grassts. In appearance grasses are very deceptrVe ; the most luxuriant may be very poor in nutritive proper ties, while the small, rusty looking may be exceedingly rich. The same is true in regard to fragrance; the sweet vernal gross id Very much prized to give hay a sweet flavor, is really a very inferior species, and by itself would make very poor fodder. The above are only a small part of the various characteristics and habits of grasses that might bo named, but they are important and should be known and. investigated by every farmer who is desirous of procur ing the species best adapted to his par ticular soil and climate. New Yorh Sun. Household Hints. An exchange gives the following di rections for cleaning jewelry : Mix eau do Cologne and whiting to tho consis tency ot cream ; apply it to the article, brush it well in, and leave it to harden. Finally brush it off, and the result will be most satisfactory. In canning fruit, cither put glass jars into a pan ot cold water, and bring the water to scalding heat with the jars in it, emptying each as it is wanted, or wrap a dish towel out of cold water around the jars while tilling, and you need not fear breaking them by putting boiled fruit in them. If you want good starch, mix it with cold water; add boiling water until it thickens, then add a dessert-spoonful of sugar and a small piece of butter. This makes a stiff and glossy finish equal to that ot the laundry. For a damp closet or cupboard, which is liable to cause mildew, place in it a saucer full of quicklime, and it will not onlv absorb all arparent dampness, but sweeten and disinfect the rlace. Kenew the lime once a fortnight or as often as it becomes slaked. Itomove ink stains from carpets with , milk, and afterward wash with fine soap, a clean brush, ana warm water. For greosaspots use powdered magnesia, fuller's earth, or buckwheat. Sprinkle ou the spot and let lie until the grease is absorbed; renew the earth, magnesia, or buckwheat until all the grease is re moved. Time and patience will in this way remove the worst of grease spots. Detroit free I'ress. T wpntv- five manufacturing establish i menu ur In full blast ft Erie, Pa.