The Forest Republican. (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, December 23, 1885, Image 1

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    I - -
THE FOREST EEFDBLICAH
If published very Wednesday, by
J. S. WENK.
OrMae in Bmearbaugh & Co.'a Building
ILK STREET, TIONKSTA, Ta.
Tarmt, ... tf.so per Year.
No wbnaripllont received tor a thorter period
thra Ibm months.
Oorrapendrnee solicited from all part of the
ommtrj. No notice will ba taken of anonrmout
coisnaincatloas.
RATES OF ADVERTISING.
One Square, ena Ineh, one Imerttoa.. ........$ 1 OS
One Square, one Inch, one moDth.. .......... t 00
One Square, one lath, three Dwotka. H
One Square, one Inch, one year It at
Two Square, one year U M
Quarter Colnmn, one year S at
Half Column, cjjie year at at
One Colamn, one year ....tat at
IgaJ adTtPtiaeneatt tea eeaia t Hue
ertloa.
Carriage and death aetlcea crtM
All bills far reaalT adrakaaaaaila - - -
lerly. Tampermry adranaMsaeaai BMartfeapaUta
VOL XVIII. NO. 36.
TIONESTA, PA., WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 23, 1885.
$1,50 PER ANNUM.
Buvance.
Job work eaah an daBrary.
TIIAXKSGIVINO HYMN.
Tht riymn, a characteristic specimen of
the atyle of patriotic poetry composed at the
time, wan sung on tlie Thanksgiving Day ap
pointed by Congress in & in acknowledg
ment of the mercies of 1'rovidence In bringinir
the Revolutionary wnr to a happy close. It
wat not published tititil several yoars after
ward and the author's naino is not known:
Tha Lord above In tender Love,
Hath aaved us from our foes.
Through Washington the thing ia done,
Tha War ia at a close.
America has won the day,
Through Washington, our chief;
Come, let's rejoice with heart and voice,
And bid adieu to grief.
Now we have peace, and may increase
In number, wealth and arts;
If every one, like Washington,
Would strive to do their parts.
WAKING OTHERS THANKFUL
"You need not try to hide those
papers, Bessie; I know what they are,"
aid Walter Eyre, with a sad little smile
as he watched the motions of his wife.
Mrs. Eyre had just taken the bills
from the peatman at the door, and as
he stood before the bureau mirror fast
ening her hut, she had tried to slip the
ugly yellow envelopes out of her sick
husband's sight.
"Yes," sighed Mr. Eyre again, "I
know very well what they are but how
they are to be paid, or when, I don't
know, I am sure," and he clasped his
white bauds over his eyes with a moan.
Bis wifo was at his side in a moment.
"Don't be disheartened, dear," she
aid, cheerily. "You are getting well
o fast now, and after a little while I
know we shall get out of these dillicul
ties. "Why," she added playfully, "I
am going to collect a bill of my own
this morning, to the va uo of twenty
d dlars. You ought nt to have looked
about so curiously, and then you would
rot have known of theso unwelcome
Yisitors."
"Until you had found some wav of
bowing them out, eh" said Wa'lter,
omoothing the fair head bent over his
chair. "And I know very well your ex
pected twenty dollars Is ail spent. You
are a brave woman, Bessie, hut I can
not see how we sha.l stem the tide much
longer, i nave a notion of writing to
ister Sybil. 1 dislike to do it, but there
seems just now no other way."
"Wait until after Thanksgiving, "Wal
ter," said his w ifc.
"Thanksgiving 1 It is near at hand,
ia it not? I fancy we shall not feel par
ticularly erateful. what with debts und
duns to "think of," said Walter, bit-1
tcrly.
"I am thankful, dear, that you are so
far recovered, and, above a. I, that you
were spared to me." And heie Bessie's 1
Toico faltered, und she hid her face on
her husband's shoulder, and both were
silent us they remembered the empty
crib in the next room, and the litt.o 1
crave whither the baby boy had been
laid to rest only a few months ago.
"Yes, dear," said Mrs. Eyre, rousing
herself, "we will be thankful we have
each other and dear Ethel. And when .
I am tempted to despond, I suy to mjself !
over and over thnt 1 have never seen the
righteous forsaken nor his sed begging i
bread, and then I am thankful for "the
memory of pious parents and ancestors.
And now I must go and see Mrs. Wilton
about my work."
"That seems like begging bread to me,
or very near it." j
"Mrs. Wilton ,;don't think so, I can '
tell you," said Bessie, brightly. "I get
Tery good prices for my work, and you
are not to underrate me, 1 can tell you.
sir." ' i
Walter looked at the bright, brave j
face, the tiim, energetic but graceful
figure before him, and sighed acaiu, but
Bessie pretended not to hear. She stirred
the fire into a blaze, arranged the books
and papers on a little stand within her
husband's reach, shook tip the louuge
cushions and made the raihcr bare room 1
look as cosy as possible; aud with a kiss '
to little Ethel and an injunction to "take
good care of papa," Bessie went out into
the w intry air.
She was a brave woman, as her hus
band had said; in spite of her cheerful
ness there was a heavy weight on her
heart this November morning. By some
of those sudden turns of business so
often occurring in our cities, Walter Eyre
had been thrown out of employment.
Then came the illness and death of the
baby, quickly followed by the tedious
fever which bad brought the husband
and father almost to the verge of the
grave, and though now convalescent he
was still weak ami helpless. Under the
occasional drain their slender means had
become painfully less, necessaries were
adly needed, and debts were calling for
payment.
At soon as her husband needed less of
her constant care, Bessie Eyre; hud
bravely tried to assume the place of
bread winner. She and her husband had
both wealthy relatives, but the poor and
struggling easily fall out of notice; and
the Eyres hud a full measure of pride
and called on none for assistance. Bessie
considered herself fortunate to obtain
lewing and funcy-work from several
ladies, and. as she said, her work ro
seived good prices. But there was so
Much needed, though she trimmed her
little household strictly to the needful,
tnd so many bills caused by that long
Qlness, that", strive bravely as she would.
I weary look had creut into her soft
brown eyes, and lines of care were gath
ering round the sweet mouth, that yet
bad alwayshopeful words for the invalid.
"I must pay one of those bills," said
Bessie, as she passed along the busy
jtreet. "I think Mr. Morris will wait
whi'e, but I am not so sure of White &,
Co. Twelve dollars out of my money to
f;o to the grocers; they have waited so
ong on us. I shall have to see what 1
can get on my watch."
She pressed her hand upon it at she
thought of the wedding day when Wal
ter gave it to her. The postoffice had to
be passed ere tho pawnbroker's shop was
reached. Almost mechanically she
stepped in and inquired for letters. One
was handed her. Bessie almost shrank
from the a ght oi the blue business-like
envelope. Oh, surely it was not another
dun!
"But I will open it. Walter must not
be troubled again to.day," she said, as
her trembling fingers slowly tore aside
tbe envelope.
Was she mistaken?" Surely it was a
check for three hundred dollars. Three
hundred dollarsl How it would lighten
their burdens, how it had already light
ened tbe poor little wife's heart! Bessie
wondered how the transacted her busi
nees with Mrs. Wilton; how she could
listen and answer intelligibly as to
box plaiting and tailor-finish, or decide
between the merits of plush and satin
pipings, when she was to eager to rush
nome ana ten waiter oi tne gooa news.
And once or twice she was obliged to
look again at the check to convince her
self it was not fairy gold. But before
she had reached their door she was calm
enough to enter quietly as usual. She
went up to Walter's chair, kissed him,
and put the envelope in his hands. He
opened it, looked at the check, then at
his wifo and said:
"You are right, Bessie. "Yet have
I not seen the righteous forsaken nor his
seed begging bread.' I feel as if this
must be for Ethel and you; I do not de
serve it. From sister Sybil, too." he
added, pointing to the postmark which
Bessio in her excitement had not no
ticed. Such a warm, cosy room as it was!
The autumn sunshine coming in through
the east and south windows, dancing
over the soft, gay carpet, as if to test its
brightness with the glowing flame in
tho great, old-fashioned stove. Perhaps
tho chairs and tables stood a trifle primly in
their places, but not a speck or spot was
to be found on their polished surfaces;
a pleasant, sunny room was Mrs. Sybil
Eyre's sitting-room. Hut that small old
lady who lav on the sofa in the warm
est corner of the room had little cf sun
shine about her. A fretful expression
shone in her sharp, dark eyes, and the
lines about her pale, thin lips were not
pleasant. The other elderly lady present
seemed more in keeping with the sur
roundings. Peace was written all over
the fair, placid face, in the kindly eyes,
the firm, sweet mouth, the faded hands,
now knitting with the unhurried grace
which belongs only to the aged. Mrs.
Eunice Foster secerned an impersonation
of the calm autumn day without.
"It is three weeks to Thanksgiving,"
she said, as she counted the stitches on
her seam needled.
"Mrs. Foster made this brief remark
in a half apologetic tone, as if she ex
pected to be contradicted or called to
account in soma way for her statement;
for Mrs. Eyro was in the habit of differ
ing from other people at first, whether
she was or' their opinion or not; but at
present she was too much occupied with
her own grievances to dissent, as she
almost always did.
"Well. I must say I don't feel specially
thankful," said Mrs. Eyre, drawing tho
iiffghan over her knees. "I've just had
one trouble after another all this year.
There was that cheating tenant on tho :
upper place; and then me laid flat on my
back in the very hottest of t e summer;
and what with the drought and poor
season the crops are a failure. Now
here I am with a sprained ankle and
nobody knows when I shall walk again,
if ever I can, tnd all my business going
to rack for need of some one to see to
things." And the lady drew a long sigh
of self-pity as she wiped her eyes on a
very fine linen cambric handkerchief.
Mrs. Foster glanced around the bright
room, so full of comforts, even luxuries,
and then out upon the trim, well kept
grounds, and beyond to the wide fields
where the stacked corn was standing in
leng rows. She thought of the stores of
untouched provisions in the great neat
house, and how easy it was for the thin
bunds near her to trace a few words on
paper which would turn that paper into
money value; she thought how a little
spared from Mrs. Eyro's abundance would
bring pleasure and thankfulness into less
favored homes; she thought how her
friend had it in her pauer to uplift some
bowed with toil, to add comfort to some
sick chamber and sparse larder, and
thinking thus, Mrs. Foster sighed too.
"And what aro you idghiiig for, Eu
nice?" said Mrs. Eyre sharply. "If I am
not thankful I'll own to it; and you need
not sit there looking like a fnueral."
"Was I looking glum?" said Mrs. Fos
ter, with a little laugh, for she under
stood Mrs. Eyre's moods too we 1 to be
offended at her plainness of speech. "I'm
sorry you have so much trouble, but
things will mend after & while."
"It is to be hoped they will. But my
foot and ankle, don't teem to improve at
all, and 1 am almost sure I'm going to
have a spell of rheumatism, my back and
shoulders are so siitf. I hardly closed
my eves last night."
"Dear, dear," said Mrs. Foster, sym
pathetically. ''Now dul you evertry
turpentine liniment?" Just the yolk of
an egg well lcateu. two wineglassfuls of
turpentine, aud a winelassful of strong
cider vinegar; when they are well mixed,
three wineglasses of water, stirred in a
little at a time. It's a splendid liniment.
Father thinks there's nothing like it.
It's too bad about your ankle, but as I
was telling father.it's a mercy you didn't
break your leg."
"Humph!" was Mrs. Eyre's sole and
ungracious rejoinder.
"Yes, we all have our troubles," con
tinued Mrs. Foster, wiping her classes
and looking thoughtfully into the fire.
"Some of us have one kind and some an
other; but the Lord generally deals out
to us the kind he sees fit for no. For a
good many years he saw best to give me
poor health, but then a woman never
had a kinder husband to care for me and
the children too. I worried about them,
but they got nlong about as well as if I
h td been around. Now the Lord has
given you a few troubles "
"A few!" groaned Mrs. Eyre.
"Well, he's given you a sprained
ankle, but you have a rep-covered sofa to
lie upon. You want to be around and
looking after things, to be sure; but
think how much better off you are than
poor Mrs. Vaughan, lying where she
knows she'll never get up, and all her
little children needing a mother so sadly.
The Lord sent the drought on your land,
but all your crops are not spoiled like
Mr. Wheeler's by the hail; and then his
house burned to the ground. Y'our back
may ache, but the Lord has given you
very soft pillows to rest on; some folks
naven t even straw."
"Oh, yes, Eunice," said Mrs. Eyre,
moving uneasily. "You always seethe
best side of everything. It is very easy
for you to talk, but you don't know half
the care I have. Y'ou know my hus
band's affairs had all to be straightened
up by me" this with an air of triumph
and I have to look after everything;
no one seems to manage properly. This
is a world of trouble." .
"Oh, yes; but you know we desire a
better country, that is a heavenly. If we
only reach that other ..world, these
troubles will soon be very small; but I'll
tell you a good thing to do if you don't
feel thunkful yourself but I know you
will after you think quietly a while see
if you cannot make somebody else thank
ful. Now I must be going, or father
may think I'm going to stay all
night. But will you try the liniment?
I'll make some and send it over the first
thing in the morning."
"If you please," wos Mrs. Eyre's reply
in a softened voice. And Mrs. Foster,
having endeavored to give medicine to
soul and body, bade her friend good-
mgni.
' "I wonder if I spoke too plain," she
said, as an hour or two later she talked
over her visit with "father."
"Not a bit, not a bit," said Mr. Foster,
heartily. "Folks can take your plain
talk better than most people's soft talk;
and Mrs. Eyre ought to hear plain talk
ing once in a while. She's plain enough
herself."
Whether Mrs. Foster was too plain or
not, Mrs. Eyre could not forget her
words; and when the old lady was finally
helped to her:oom and to bed, she could
not sleep, but began to think over her
friend's suggestion that she "make some
body else thankful." And Mrs. Eyre
was a Christian, albeit she confessed her
self an unthankful one. She was a Bible
reader, too.
"I have not sufficiently considered the
poor, and therefore perhaps the Lord
has withheld his strength from me.
'Make some one else thankful?' where
shall I beu-in?"
To be sure, there was her poor neigh
bor, Mrs. Vaughan, wasting away with
an incurable disease, and her ' poverty
did not admit of procuring delicacies
which might tempt tho fitful appetite.
Mrs. Eyre bethought her of tho mauy
jelly glasses and the canned fruits in her
closets, and mentally set apart a portion
for tho invalid. There, too. was
the Wheeler family, who had lost
their home by fire, and who were now
receiving the half-welcome shelter of a
brother's overcrowded house. The ten
ant house on her upper place was empty ;
why not otler it rent ireo to honest John
Wheeler for the winter?"
"And Walter my poor Walter!" And
now tears not entirely for herself came
into Mrs. Eyre's sleepless eyes. If any
one ever crept into the tendei est corner of
her heart it was her young brother
Walter. She had married a cousin, and
had not changed her maiden name.
Walter, many years younger than her
self, had been left to hrr care by their
dying mo'her, and she had given the boy
all a mother's care. Ho never knew
how dear he was to his fault-finding
sister, and when come to man's estate he
could no longer endure the incessmt
contradiction and fault-finding of her
home, aud ho sought another home and
emplovment in a city. Then he added
to his offense by taking to himself a wife
without confiding in his sister. For a
while he and his wife tried to keep up
tho family intercourse by letters, but
Mis. Eyre grew colder and colder, and
at last all communication ceased between
them. But no one knew how the sister's
heart yearned for her young brother.
She had heard that he was in straight
ened circumstances, that sickness had
entered his home. Was it the eldest or
youngest child thut had dicdJ Some
one had said Walter himself had been ill
what he might have expected, going to
live in a city and his wife had been
doing sewing for people. It was a good
thing she knew how; but she was an
Eyre. They must be helped some way.
And the next morning Mrs. Eyre found
a way, as the reader already knows; and
by the time Thanksgiving tamo it was
surprising how many ways the found in
which to make others thankful.
When Thanksgiving came bright and
clear she was amazed to see her parlor
door open, and in came Walter and Bes
sio and Ethel, and Walter's are were
about her and Bessie's kisses wero on her
cheek.
"We thought we must come to tell
you how you had helped us, how thank
ful you have made us," said Bessie.
"And oh, it was so kind of you, dear
sister Sybil!"
Before they had fairly got their wrap
pings off, in came Mrs. Foster, her kind
iace beaming with joy.
"Aud oh, Sybil," she said, after
warmly greeting Walter and his wile,
"I wish you could see how comfortable
the Wheelers are in the house you let
them have, and Mrs. Yaughun says that
last jelly helped her to sit up nearly all
day."
"I'm sure I am thankful I could help
them both," said Aunt Sybil, but her
upt iremmeu. j
Then V's. Foster laughed, such a
clear, ringing laugh that little Ethel had
to join in too.
"So you aro going to have a Thanks
giving, after all? 1 told you, you re
member, it would pay you to make some
one else thankful."
"Yes, you did, Eunice, and I'm thank
ful to you, too."
"And." said Bessie, softly, "we will
all thank God for this dear Thanksgiving
Day." Lucy Jlanlolph.
How to Care Obesity.
In tho fourth congress of Gcrraau phy
sicians the first subject discussed was
corpulence. Ebstein advanced the
opinion that drugs were of little service
in reducing the amount of fat, and that
an entire chango of the regimen includ
ing both change of diet and of the man
lier of living was necessary.
Any method which reduced the
general nutrition, and thus removed fat,
was a failure; tho fat alone must be re
moved. The method must not require
the individual to gfve up his business
during treatment, else it would not be
generally applicable. The method must
be capable of being continued indefinite
ly without producing unpleasant results,
for individuals predisposed to corpulence
by heredity or constitution must keep
up the diet for a long time.
One method is to cut off all fatty
goods. But as carbohydrates may be
changed into fat in the body, this is not
reasonable. The object is rather to pre
vent the formation of fat in the body.
To secure this it is necessary to regulate
the proportion of albuminous, starchy,
and fatty foods, so that perfect nutri
tion shall be secured, but no excess of
fat produced. Tho necessary amount of
fat for a healthy man is 143 grains per
diem.
If this is reduced one half a part of
the amount necessary for nutrition will
be taken from the body to compensate
for the reduced allowance in the food,
and thus the excess of fat may bo re
moved. Under this system the individual
does not suffer the distress which is felt
by those who are cut off from all fatty
food, and the results are more successful
and agreeable than those of the Banting
system. The amount of carbohydrate
is to be reduced so that no surplus above
bodilv needs shall be taken.
In the Banting system the diet is chief
ly nitrogenous, which often causes indi
gestion. Ebstcin gives nitrogenous
food, with the reduced allowance ot
starch and fat in sufficient quantity to
keep up tbe general nutrition and work
ins strength, but not in such amounts as
to overload and embarrass the organs
which digest proteids. Tho necessity of
muscular exercise ot sumcient lorce to
produce free perspiration is insisted
upon. This system has met with ap
proval in Germany on account of its
success.
Henneberg, in discussing the subject,
approached it from a different side, and.
by a review of the methods adopted in
fattening catt'e, sought to reduce tho
rules necessary to be observed in avoid
ing the accuinmulation of fat in man.
The general discussion elicited varying
views upon the physiology of digestion,
but all agreed that the use of medicine
for reducing corpulence was to be
avoided. Science.
Sarins: a Life.
One day last winter, '83-84, when the
mercury was down somewhere in the for
ties below, an open sleigh-stage was
making its way along a mountain road
between two Montana towns. The only
passengers were a woman and her young
child. They were scantily clad for the
rigorous weather, and tho woman re
moved one of her wraps to protect the
child. The driver discerned that she
was growing drowsy, and warned her of
the deadly peril of falling asleep. It
was of no use, nor did the vigorous shak
ing he gave her serve to keep her awake.
Finally the driver seized her, threw her
out into the road, and drove off with the
child at a rapid pace. This last expedient
was successful. Awakened by the shock
of the fall, the woman saw the stajje
disappearing with her child. Her ma
ternal instincts were aroused. Sho ran
after the stage as fast she could; the
driver slackeucd up a little, but did not
stop till he saw that the poor mother was
thoroughly warmed by the exercise,
llcr life was saved. An hour later the
stage reached a station, where buffalo
robes were obtained to protect hei
against the deadly cold for the remainder
of the journey. Youth't Companion.
Why He Wouldn't Buy.
Produce Dealer "Ah! Glad to see
you, .Mr. Blank. Can't I serve you with
a turkey for Thanksgiving'"
Mr. Blank (coldly) "No; thank you."
"But you remember I furnished your
turkey last year."
"Ye?, I remember."
"It was satisfactory, I hope?"
"Yes; the superintendent says it is
very satisfactory."
"The superintendent?"
"Y'es of the Fust Line Railroad com
pany." "I I don't understand. Oh! per
haps you made him a piesent of it."
"No: I believe I sold it to him for a
car spring." Call.
lu Case of Fire.
Thoy sat in the library alcove,
Aud they gawd at the hundreds of books;
And she gave in exchange fur his sighings,
The sweetest and shyest of looks.
"Here are volumes of very great value, ,
And you," he remarked, "urn well versJ:
Now, supposing a fire should break out here,
Which book would you try to save lirst!"
'I would seize" and she crow quita excited,
Anil then tho jriew tuinbly calm
"I would seize papa's pocket-book liint, air:
That's tho kind of a bookworm 1 am:"
Columbus Dispatch.
FOWLS OF GIGANTIC SIZE
1KB SUCCESS OF CALIFOKITIA OS
TBICH FABMIVO.
Precious I'srtra and Havenou Appo
tllea How tho Rlrita are Plucked
In an Ostrich Corral.
A Los Angeles (Cat.) correspondent ol
the New York Tribune writes: Among
the most novel, and apparently profitable",
of the newer pursuits in California i
ostrich farming. Dr. Skctchly, tht
manager of the principal farm in this
county, some few years ago was proprie
tor of a large and profitable one in Soutu
Africa. During tho Transvaal war hii
ranohe was devastated by the Boers and
Zulus, and thinking that Southern Cali
fornia might possess the necessary quali
fications, he came to spy out the land,
lie found everything satisfactory, organ
ized a stock company, went to the Cape,
and less than three years ago brought
back twenty-two birds, ten males and
twenty-two hens. Since then ho has
raised forty birds, which, considering
the many difficulties he had to contend
with at first, is satisfactory progress.
His rancho is about twenty-one miles
south of Los Angeles, near the village of
Korwalk, on a spur of tho Southern Pa
cific railroad.
As the visitor reaches the entrance,
two sign-boards meet bis gaze. The
first rule, "Each visitor will bo charged
fifty cents," was made necessary by the
crowds that at first poured into the
place. The other, "All dogs found on
this ranch will be at once destroyed,"
was occasioned by tho fact that even the
best-bred dogt will suck eggs; and when
rotten eggs sell for $3 each, and good
ones are worth from $50 to $100 each,
the undeslrability of dogs is apparent.
The farm consists of 200 acres, of which
eighty are sown to alfalfa, thirty are in
corn, and the remainder occupied by
the pens, corrals, employes' quarters, etc.
The first object of interest is a rather
large corral containing a nock of sixteen
month old birds. They stand about six
feet high, and are quite timid. These
birds were plucked three months ago,
and their plumage is abundant and
glossy already. My guide told me that
only seven months' time was necessary
for the new plumage to mature in, and
that these "chicks" produced feathers
at their last plucking over two feet long,
which beats the record in Africa. Next
come the pens where the adult birds are
kept. Each pair is allowed a space of
about twenty by lorty feet. The females
are of a speckled brownish color, and
have a homely domestic appearance. Tho
males, on the contrary, are a brilliant,
glossy black, with one row of superb
white feathers fringing each wing and
the tail. They are rakish, gallant look
ing fellows, and can comfortably stretch
their necks over the eight-foot fence
which forms the rear of their pens. A
barrier in front of the pen keeps visitors
at a safe distance from them, as these
older birds are always dangerous. The
superintendent told me that he knew of
several men being killed and three horses
disembowelled by them. Their feet are
armed each with two toes, one of which
is very long, and has at its extremity an
immense claw. Their mode of attack is
always by kicking, and as they are
known to be able to maintain for a long
time a gait faster than that of any race
horse, the muscular power of their legs
can be imagined.
I asked how tho picking of these big
ones was manigcd.
"Well, we catch their necks in a forked
stick, draw a leather stocking over their
heads, and four or live of us grab them.
But it's no fun, I can tell you, for one
squaro kick would send a fellow to king
dom come too quick. Y'ou hear me?"
Strange to say, they make no attempt
to jump over the fence, but when very
much excited or enraged will brush
away a strong board fence with their
breasts of bones, like so much paper.
Tho only use they make of their al
leged wings is to steer themselves around
a corner or sharp curve; during which
operation they look much like a sail boat
when it "luffs."
Up to recently patent incubators were
used, but so unsatisfactory were they
that tho birds are now permitted to in
crease and multiply in the orthodox man
ner. Each pair is expected to hatcli
three broods a year, tho hens averaging
fifteen eggs at a setting, but sometimes
running up to as many as thirty. About
six weeks is the period of incubation. 1
saw some "chicks" only a week or so
old, which wero as large as prize turkeys ;
the parents were most affectionate and
solicitous in the care of the little ones,
and regarded us, even far off as we were,
with cvideut disapprobation.
The expense of keeping these huge
creatines ia comparatively small, each
bird getting a daily ration of fifty
pound of cut alfalfa, a little corn, and
unlimited pebbles. An artesian well
supplies them with pure water, and they
appear to have made themselves at home,
and apparently have come to California
to stay.
The outlay of capital must be consid
erable in the first place, as since the first
lot was exported tho cape government
has imposed an export duty of $ .100 per
bird. Add to this tho prime cost, which
varies from $100 up to the thousands,
and the freight frain tho cape to New
Orleans and thence to Los Angeles, aud
the average cost per pair at a low calcu
lation must be put at from $1,500 to $2,
000. In Africa the profit must be very
large. Dr. Skctchly cited one instance
where a ttio of birds yielded in one year
a revenue of over $U0,000, iu offspring
and feathers.
A bottle of milk which a Baltimore
chemist was testing the other day ex
ploded with great force and nearly killed
him. It was probably from a kickin?
cow. Detroit l'ren J'ret.
There are 30, 000 dogs in Berlin, thi
tax on which brings 3;.0,000 marks into
the treasury utiuuallv.
A DREAM OF HO MR
The sun's rays tlant tha path along,
Tha air it balmy at in June,
The robin tings hit evening song,
And through the sky the new, gray mooa
Moves calmly on, untrammelled, free,
But something whispers unto me
"Not yet"
The brook sings at it gently flows,
The frog croaks by the water's rim;
There in content the lily grows,
And there the fishes, darting, twira;
I hear and see the old brown mill,
But, ah, these tad words haunt me still:
"Net yet"
In clover meadows broad and fair,
lit drowsy mood the cows await
The farm boy's call upon tha air,
While, with hit pail, beside the gate
Which opent down the graasy lane,
My brother breathes these wordt of pain:
"Not yet"
Tbe tteepled church, tht tchoolheuse near,
Tbe wood where I have roamed at will,
The quaint old farmhouse, to me dear,
My youthful home my manhood's still
I see these at in days gone by,
But something whispers (at I sigh)
"Not yet"
Oh, Hearts in whom there Is no May t
Who yearn to hear my footfalls where .
Tbe path to beaten winds its way
Under old trees to grand and fair;
Dear Hearts, who long for me to come,
I can but say I can go home
"Not vet"
For longer, still, your breast mutt know
A sadness free from all disguise,
Ere I can leave these tcenes and go
And look into bright, loving eyes,
And clasp the hands so warm, and kin
The lips I've pressed so oft in bliss
"Not yet"
Forgotten, but as tweet and strong
As when one dreamful autumn day
I taid "Good Bye,'' and passed along
Down tbe old walk and went away,
Not thinking there would come a day
When I should have as now to tay
"Not yet"
Alas, not yet Far, far from this,
Still must I wait. All I can do ,
fs just to wait a long, long kits
Bedewed with love, oh, Hearts 1 to you,
And murmur these tad words once more,
(Jnthoughtof iu the days of yore:
"Not yet."
George Xtwell Lovejoy.
HUMOR OF THE DAY.
The height of fashion A dude's col
lar. Life.
A dentist in a Western city is named
Leggo. As a usual thing, however, ho
will not do so until it is out.
"Struck Down" is the name of a new
novel. The hero was probably a dude
who got hit on the upper lip. PitUburg
CUronicle.
"Good gracious," said the hen when
she discovered the porcelain egg in her
nest, "1 shall be a bricklayer next."
Boston Bulletin.
A Massachusetts boy has neither arras
nor legs. His parents are beset by land
lords who offer to rent a house to them
at low figures. Courier-Journal.
In all the groat affairs of State
The thouyhtlul ones will llnd
The sturdiest patriot is the uiau
Who has an axe to grind.
Merchant-Traveler.
Barnum will exhibit next season one
of the greatest curiosities ever shown to
a wonder-loving public, namely, a bar
ber who never invented a hair tonic.
Boston Courier.
A convict at Joliet climbed a lofty der
rick and refused to come down. The
fire hose was turned on him and he was
washed down. He could ctand anything
but water. Call.
An Englishmen has demonstrated that
a snail cau creep U00 feet between sun
rise and sunset. This is seven feet more
than the boy who is sent on an errand
on Saturday. Call.
The czar sleeps with his pet dog. and
we regard such a circumstance as a fit
cause for action by tho Society for the
Prevention of Cruelty to Auiuials. The
poor brute is liable to be blown to pieces
by dynamite any night. iMuell CUtien.
"What is usually the nationality of a
bootblack, my dcarf" asked Mrs. Cau
tion while her husband was studying the
score of an Alleghany game. "Oh, it
varies," replied Caution; sometimes they
are Polish aud sometimes Shinesc."
J'i'tihurg Chronicle.
Where are the gold and crimson leaves
Sought by tho youth and maid,
As hand in band through pathless woods
In converse sweet Ihoy strayed
They're in the family Bible pressed,
Anil there they will remain;
The goutle maiden and the youth
Will ne'er tee them again.
Boston Courier.
What Was It!
A recent incideut in Chicago should
be referred to the society of Psychical
Hescan'h. It belongs to the category of
astounding experience! which science,
even wlyle distrusting aud criticising,
has never satisfactorily explained. The
wife of a well known citizen, soon after
rising, asked her husband : "Do you
know anybody named EdsallorEsdale?"
"No; why do you ask?" "Because I
dreamed that a mau of that uame was
drowned." In the morning paper waa
the announcement of the disappearance
of a young man named Esdale, whose'
remains, some ten days later, were found
in the lake. Neither the husband or
wife had ever heard the name before.
Tho sceptical will call it a "mere ronin
cidenoe." Butwatit? Was it some
thing more? Can so many incidents of
the kind within the experience of almost
rvery person bo mere coincidences?
U ii- Journal,