1 .,.. .... , Rates of Advertising. in ri;nuitr:i kvkuy wkdnkaday, m r. 35. -wm-jjntxs: OFFICE IU ROBINSON & BONNFR'3 BUILVIKOl ELM BTtlLBT, TI0NB3TA, PA. One Square (1 Inch.) one insertion - 1 One Sq uare. " one inontli - - 3 CKT one Square " tnree months - era OneHquare " ono yeitr - JO 0 Two Squares, one year ... IS Co quarter uoi. - - - - so w Half . " " - 60 CO One " " - - - 100 0 Lgal notice at establifihed rate. Marriage and death notices, gratis. TEBM8. fl.M A YEA It. No Rulmeriptions received for a nhortor period tlinn throo month-.. Corroapondoneo solicited irom nil part ortlio country. No notice will be taken 0 Anonymous communication. All brills for yearly advertisements col lected quarterly. Temporary advertise ments must be paid for in advance. Job work. Cash on Delivery, VOL. XIII. NO. 29. TIONESTA, PA., OCT. 6, 1880. $1.50 Per Annum. . The New Arrival. MA. A olmriuing little tiddy Wdy hit oi mother's bliss; A tiny toddlej, sweat a flow'rs oi spring; A precious popsy wopey gives Its mammy, den, a kiss; - A pretty darling itsy wiUyng ! " Tk. So that's the little iollow T H'm I A healthy, looking chap. Another mouth to food, as sure as late ! No, wile, I don't oansHor that his coming's a mishap, . But still I oould have done with leas than eight. Bit OTHER. My cyo! Is that the baby? What a jolly little pnp I - But 1 say, ma, wherever Is its nose T And I say lather, by-und-byo, when he gots more grown up, IIo'll wear my worn-out jnckots, I suppoie.' UNCLE. Anolhor T Well, thank goo Jnoss, I Km not a What! Don't I think him pretty T No, I don't. To keep him Irom the workhouse you must do the best you can ; Dou't think that I'll assist you lor I won't 1 DOCTOtt. How are we getting on to-day T I trust we soon shall mend. We mustn't think we're strong Just yet, you know, We'd better take a eomething whioh this after noon I'll send, And let me seo hum ! ha ! ah yes jas so. NUHBB. He's lovely, that he is, mum ! See them sturd iittlelegs ! He's tw toe the size ct Mrs. Smithert's third; And when he ooines a-outting of his little toQsey-pegs, Hti'll bea uia'i, he will, upoa my word. NEIGHBOR. ' Oij.yes,' dea-, be looks healthy, but you mustn't trust to that I do not with, of ooarso, your hopes to - dash. But when I see a tender babe, so ruddy, strong ; and tat, " I Look, dear, on bis taoe 1 Is that a rash T . Hk. (da oapo). vt A ohorming little tiddy iddy bit oi mother's bliss; A tiny toddles, sweet as flow'rs of sprint i A precious popsy wopsy rive its mammy, den, a kiss; pretty darling itsy wiUy ting ! chips7theoIrpenter. "Chips," whom I knew for months by no oilier nme, was ship's tiarpenteT ot the whaler Gazelle, of New Bedford. 11a vnfl aront.if.al vonrfl rtA a I v fool high, and as strong as a tree, lie was tho favorite of tho ship-r-andno wondor. Ho was tender and gentle, perhaps be cause ha .was strong; he was peaceful, because he was powerful. And the soft word which turneth away wrath, with the gentle hand to. soothe a sufferer, are often needed in the whale fisheries. r . e . i r . i i . . . i. . iviosii oi me loruiuut'. uanus oi tue 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 lr r arlati crc ti f homat.lvoo Tl a ! a ,i never been to sea before, but during the first two years of this voyage he had attended to so many things besides his own easv 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 trie center of a ring of the Portuguese lads, and with wonderful patienc i teach them to make snlices and kuots and to speak English, lie never tired of doing this or any other kindly thing for them. In the day time ii there was work for him at his trade he sti 1 had them around him, ex plaining everything as be sawed or planed, as if he wished to make them as good 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 him of home. . When the ship touched at some port with a postoilioe and every one ran for letters. Chips remained aboard he , knew there was none for him. Jn 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 strange 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 mo. The first man to spring out in the mizzen chains, to help ine aboard, was strong-handed Chios, . with tears of sympathy in his eyes. On deck the captain met me with open hand and heart, and for eight months I sailed with the whalemen, and took part m the jrood and ill that befell them. "1 Chips and I were friend from tho in- Uut our hands struck. Shaking hands is one of the best tests of character. Some peoplo snake your hand so politely that you foci they would care mighty little about shaking your ac quaintance; sqme men slip their hands into yours and make you feel as if you were squeezing a fish: some people's hands are so thick, and fat, and cold, that you might as well erasp the fingers of a leather dummy. Most people, and nice peoplehake hands as a preliminary to conversation ; but now and then one's hand strikes into sympathetic palm, the fingers take full bold, the thumbs interlock and close and when that friendly grasp is over, there is nota word to be said it spoke all friendly greeting in its own gcod language. Just such a kindly and grim grip did Chips give me the first time we met. When I boarded the whaler I was in a had way for clothes; all that belonged to me in the world were the fer 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 jacket, an othcr a pair of sea boots, a jackknife, a cake of tobacco and so on, until I 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, smi'ing at thorough boys as each ono handed his offering, ne drew me off to his own cubby hole, and hauled round his own chest. Out on his bed came the 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 the one word spoken in the best tones of the ship was the name of the kind-hearted, manly Chips. He was as brave as he was kind. When whales were chased Chips went down in a boat, and there was no coolor head among them when the fragile shell was to be laid broadside to a monster nearly as long as the ship. Once when the boat was Btove 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 brine he went, among the sharks, and fished up the sinking body. He was a mighty swimmer, and with only an qar to cling to, be held the senseless man out ot water until res cued. . - But, to the story. The Gazelle bad 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-owsl" 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 tho even ing when the first cry was beard, 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 weatner, moonlight, and so on, are very favorable. In most cases the course ot the whales and the speed of their travel are carefully noted. When "on a course" a school qf 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 few miles a day. When seen late in the 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 83nt 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 promised to be a rough one, and the whale's motions were strangely irreg ular, as if he had lost himself in an 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. Thoueh spending year after year on the great waters, whalers become more im pressionable to supernatural things than other seamen, and long observations of the shoals or schools of the vast crea tures they pursue tends to till 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 the ship, and we might have Been him long before had not his white, bushlike spout been lost in the angry whiteness that wasjast 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 ot tue wnaie. Captain Clifford had been examining him through a glass, which he handed in turn to each of his olhcers. " What do you say, Mr. HussevP" he inquired of the first mate, who glanced at tue Bun ana unswerea : Go down, sir; wecandoitP" " Mr. Joseph?" and the captain turned to the second mate, an old Portuguese of .extraordinary size, and perhaps the most famous wnaleniui alive. " Go down, sir, if we want to get the fellow; we ll never see nim again." The two other officers were younger men, and of the same mind. There was no time lost in further consultation. "Swing the boats 1" shouted the old man. The lines and irons bad already been thrown in by the crews. A "heave, oh!" aid a straining sound, and in one minute tho four boats struck tho water, and the men were sealed un the thwarts with the font; tars 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. xne 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 k 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 bad left the ship ttiat we realized how threatening was tne weatner. livery moment tne seas came wilder and heavier against the vessel. Unly now and again, as tuey 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 the whale, was whistling through the rigging in the wild way that tells of a coming gale. The captain regretted the lowering of tue boats, ana soon signaled tnem to re turn. But the men were excited, and refused to see the signal. Filled to the gunwale, the seas Fashing over them every moment, on they went where only i l r i r . i i i i . a luiug bo nearly perieci as a wuateuouc could keep afloat. As the first boat swung round to run down to leeward of the whale, the red sun stood fairly on the black field of ocean Talk about the 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 tbisP 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 tho mightiest created animal! It is the extreme of human coolness and courage, because it is tne extreme ot danger. The soldier faces one peril the bullet. The whaleman, in such a dase as this, has three mighty enemies to fight tho 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. All the boats were last before the monster seemedtofeelthe first bio w. Then came the tight, the cruel and unnatural figut between vast power and keen sfeul. The black water was churned white as 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 nurricane. It was fearful to think of the four small boats out in such a sea as was then running. We on the ship had to cling to the rail of the rigging; the ter rific strength of 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's at the wheel?" be shouted. " Send a steady man to the wheel. Ay, ay, Birr' answered, in the dark a deep, quiet voice; "ive got tne wheel." That was Chips, and I walked aft .to be near him. Just then a long hail came through the darkness, and we saw the flash ot a boat's lantern on the lee quarter. In a minute more a line was flung aboard, and we soon had one crew safe on deck. It was the mate's boat. Where are the others P" was the first question. i tat to tne wuaie," was tue answer. "and there are no lanterns on the boat." une ot tne men trom:tue boat relieved Chips at the wheel, and be 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 for tne boats, .suddenly be turned to me and said : We're going to lose some one to night. While I was at the wheel it seemed to me as it something whispered in ray ear that we're going to lose one man to-night." I salt that ne was growing as super stitious as old Kanaka Joe, and he an swered: " I can't help it. It did seem that I heard that whisper, and so plain was it that I nearly dropped tin wheel in ter ror." Another shout from the sea cut off further talk, and we soon had two more boats at the davits. 1 he absent one was Mr. Joseph's, and wo knew that through thick and thin be would hold on to the whale. It was 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 hold the whale in such a Bea, but the whaleman cried back: "He's a bundred-an' fiftv barreler. and if you don't take the line aboard, we'll stick to him in the boat!" Soon after, 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 and made fast to the wind lass bits at the foot of the mainmast. It was a new line of stout manilti hemp, and its strength was put to a fearful test. A hundred fathoms astern of the ship it held the monster's carcass: and as the vessel rolled heavily to the sea the strain on the line was terrific. Standing toward of it I laid my band on the line as the strain came, and I felt it stretch and contract like a rope of mum ruuoer. Mr. Joseph's boat had come alongside, and the captain, standing on the star board rail, was shouting to him through a trumpet. Tho line from the whale passing irom 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 the dark, a tall man, who seemed to be leaning against the line. " I hope he is forward of it," I said to myself as I we.it -on with what I was about. I had no. taken six steps from the gpot whtn sometuiDg 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 lor the line in the dark. It was gone! A rush to the rail, and all was clear. The strain had I torn out the brace. The mighty pull of the whale astern bad 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 bad been seen by the men in the boat before any one on board had realized the affair. In less than a minute the crv of "Saved 1" reached us from Mr. Joseph, and, in a shorter time than can be imagined by a landsman, tne boat was hanging from the davits, and the injured commander was being cared for in his" cabin. Rum 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. He 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," Baid Mr. Joseph. " We're under foresail jib and reefed topsails, and running rigut away Irom 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 Chios to see to that broken rail," said the captain, closing his eyes drows ily. "Ay, ay, sir!" said tne old second mate, us he stamped on deck. I heard him stop at tne aiter-natcu, where the boat-steerers an.d the carpen ter lived, and call "Chips!" two or three times. At last there was an an swer in another voice not Chips ; then a round of hurried feet on deck, a shout down the forecastle, and a shout back in answer. There was no Chips mere. Two minutes after a heavy foot came aft to the cabin stairs, and Mr. Joseph, with white face entered. 1 knew what he had to tell. I kne w now just as if I bad seen it all who the tall man was wnom l Had seen lean ing against the line. Xne captain iooxea a; tne second mate. "Chips is gone, sir," said the old sailor, with a tremor in bis rougu 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 all knew the search was hopeless. No man could swim in such a sea, and we bad a thought, though no one spoke it, that brave Chips had been Killed by tne line before he touched the water. All night t?e beat about the place where we thoaght it bad occurred. The 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 Bhip was taken away. Two years atterward, wnen I lound mTOell in Boston, I took from my sacred things a letter which I had found in Chips' chest. It was addressed to a woman, witu tue name and number oi a Cambridge Btreet. I found the place a small frame house, with lots of Chips' 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 hor only boy. asking forgiveness for bis one great and only disobedience and as she read, the white head bent lower and lower, till it met tne thin hands: and I turned and left the little room I bad darkened, with all its poor ornaments, useless now, and, as I walked toward Boston. I could not help think iag that God's ways are often wofullv far from being our ways. John Boyle o keilly. Sympathy as a Softener of Law Tlrcy allow very wide scope to sym pathy, as a sottner of law, in ranee The case of the Countess de Tilly, re cently tried in a Parisian court, was em bellished by an outpouring of popular feeling such as would scarce nave been possible in other places. The countess was tried for having disfigured the face of a young laundress who had become the favorite of the count, her husband. 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 a mas3 of wrinkled sears. When 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 shed tears while making his argument, which was based on wholly sympathetic grounds. The public prosecutor made merely a fierfunctory request for conviction, and mmediatelv added a plea for leniency. The iudge instructed the jury in her favor, amid the uninterrupted cheers of the spectators ; and tho jurv at once re turned their verdict ot acquittal, 'amid, as the account says " .periect storm o a p p lause." Chicuyo Time i. 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 uttertuott lonkert Mawman. k TERRIBLE FATE. tlow a Blind Man and a Crlppl Kayted meuiiiTiniinn xnei tncir ueain. 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. They were ngaged Jn taking down a " skin." 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 from the roof, killing both instantly, and crushing them to gether into a shapeless mass. A miner named Finnerty, working in an adjoining chamber, bad 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 onlyj" a little neu." and would not hurt anybody. When Finnerty heard the crash he knew what 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- uer huu engKeu m iue worn oi remov ing the boulder 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 beads 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 Slavin, the miner, had been totally blind from boyhood. Scarcely any other calling requires the exercise ot such 1 ' Vl . . 1 - 1 1 Keeu ttigub, yet luia unuappy man gropen his way for years amid danger, and, trusting to the skill of his bands and the eyes of his assistant, plied bis perilous vocation uncomplainingly. . His early days were spent in the mines of Eng land, where be learned the business and lost his eyes. He was quite expert in the use of the drill, and when bis assistant once placed it accurately on the spot wnere the hole was to be drilled for the olast, Slavin, without deviating a hair's breadth, made the bole at the proper angle, and then superintended how it should be fired. He had been a miner thirty years without the use of his eyes, and managed to get along in a way that was altogether wonderiul to contem plate. He left a wife and three children wholly unprovided for. His companion Douebertv.- who shared hit fate, was also hi? companion in misery, having been a cripple from childhood. He was physically weak- and decrepit, and in reality was nothing more than the eyes for olavins skill and brawny arms. Some days before the accident George Filer, one of the owners of the mine. conscious of the danger these two men were daring, gave them notico that be could not employ them any longer; but tuey pieaaed pitcousiy to be retained. saying it was the only way they could think ot making a living, and so Mr. D iler permitted them to remain. Toe black sulphur clod by which these two men were killed is a good deal like lead in appearanco and weight. A Humorist's Ancestors. How much happier were our ances tors than ourselves. Why, I 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 for the dav. This was long ago, because wejuome of a very oiu iamiiy. our iamuy records show that our direct anceors 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 soft and pliable for children's winter doth ing. A man didn't go roaring ar.d swearing around his room in the morn ing, in thsse good old times, with his eves full of soap, groping for the towel There was no such thing as soap, and they bad no use for towels. And they never worried about sala;ios 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 clu'j and longest arm was president by a unani inous vote every time, and the man who objected to the election was promptly sold to the Oaio medical students in the interest of science, Those were the days when a man could run for president on his shape. They were god men, these ancestors of mine, in their 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. I hey were more reliable than I am. They prayed oftener and made more uoise uuuut n, nuu luey una moie gods than they had words in their luu 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 remote antiquity I revere the rare good sense which prompted them to live and get through with it and die, about three or four thousand years before their more fastid ious descendants wanted the stage for their briei hour. u. v. isuraeiie. New York city lias school accommo dations for 124,353 pupils, the averagn attendance is 108, 558, and the teacher' ian aggregate ,joj,vou.19. FIRM, GARDEN LSD HOUSEHOLD. Stable VenlUatlon. 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 the barns properly. so that a southerly and pleasant ex- " posure may be bad, 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 sulucientiy considered nor properly appreciated by the farmers. The close packing together in low. damp, dark places ot horses, cattle and . 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 of 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 food is conse quently withdrawn from the stabled animals, unless unusual care be taken and great discretion practiced in the construction ot t'neir abodes. In the best regulated stables, cleanliness and an abundance of pure air, light and warmth alone can insure tne heaitn, comfort and useful life of our farm stock. American Cultivator. Habits of the Grasses. The maioritv of the grasses mostly highly valued for pasture are gregarious in habit, and seem to thrive oetter when several species are mixed together than when each is growing separately. Manv interesting experiments have been made in this direction, and all show that for a good permanent pasture a mixture i several species oi a simitar uaoit is better than any one alone. There are. it is true, exceptions to this rule, princi pal v found in localities where some par ticular species is especially adapted to a certain formation or kind of soil. For instance, the Kentucky blue grass will on some soils take entire possession and crowd out other kinds, while in others it will scarcely holds its own against timothy, red top, and similar well known species. Some of the species are especially valuable for hay, others for pasture, owing to their dill erent habits of growth. For hay the farmer wants grass that grows moderately lull and comes to a maturity early, and If several are sown together they should all mature at the same time. But in a pasture different species should be sown, coming on at successive periods of flowering, in order that some one or other ot 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 the farmer should seek to secure a rich pasture for his stock the season through. The roots of grasses are almost as variable in form of growth as the stem and leaves. (Some have long fibrous roots that penetrate the soil to a great depth, and these are adapted to light, poor soils: while others, like tim othy, are almost bulbous in form, with a few long fibrous roots extending from the base, the latter requiring a rich and rather heavy soil. I he nbrous-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 verv common name.-" bunch grass " applied indiscriminately to at least a score of different species of prairie and mountain grasses. In appearance grasses are very deceptive; the most luxuriant mav be verv noor in nutritive proper ties, while the small, rusty looking may be exceedingly rich. The same is true in regard to fragrance; the sweet vernal grass so' 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 thev are important and should be known and. investigated by every farmer who is desirous of procur ing the species best adapted to ins par ticular soil and climate. New Yorh Sun. louachold Hints. An exchange gives the following di rections for cleaning jewelry : Mix eau do Cologne and whiting to the 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. Tn cannin? fruit, cither nut gloss iars into a pan of cold water, and bring the water to Bcalding beat 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 vou 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 still and glossy nnisu equal to that ot the laundry. For a damp oloset or cupboard.which is liable to cause mildew, place in it a saucer full of quicklime, and it will not only absorb all apparent dampness, but sweeten and disinfect the place. Renew the lime once a fortnight or as often as it becomes slaked. Remove ink stains from carpets with, milk, and afterward wash with tine soap, a ciean brush, and warm water. For greasaspots use powdered magnesia, fuller's earth, or buckwheat. Sprinklo on 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 I'ree iVs. Twenty-five manufacturing establish , menU are in full blt at Erie, Pa.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers