VOL. XXIX. PROFESSIONAL CARDS. JOSEPH W. MILLEK, M. D. Physician and Surgeon, ; office and residence at x» 8. Main St. Butler, ' Dr. N. M. HOOVER, IST E. Wayne St.. office lioure, 10 to 12 M. and 1 to S P. M- I LTm. REINSEL, m. D , PHYSICIA* axd SURGEON. Office and resldeuce at 127 E. Cunningham St, L. BLACK, RUTDICIAN AM> NMOAOK, New Troutmaii Bnlldintr. Butler, I'a. B. N. LKAKE. M. D. J. K. MASS. Specialties: Specialties; and Sur- Eye. Ear. No* and DRS. LEAKE & MANN, Butler, Pa. G. M. ZIMMERMAN. rnrsiciAM and arsaKox. Office i . NO. 46. S. Main street, over Frank 4 <;o's lU'i« Store. Rutler.ia. SAMUEL M. BIPPUS. Physician and Surgeon. tic. 22 Fast Jefferw'i' M . Butler, Pa. V. McALPINE, Dentist, It , :v * permanently located at iso South Mali. Street Butler. Pa.. In rooms formerly occupied by Dr. Waldron. DR. S. A. JOHNSTON. DENTIST, - - BUTLER, PA. mid Filline Painless Bxtr.iction o( Teeth s * nss, A Offl2T"?r'JUliei. Grocery east of Lowry closed Wednesdays and Thursdays. j. J. DONALDSON, Dentist. Butler, Penn'a. ArtiCclal Teeth ln»erted r hrl #ul'» Clotliuig Store. C. F. L. McQUISTION, fc.\OI.\EEK AND BCBVEVOB, OFFICE KKAH DUKOSD. BtTTLKH, PA.) £ A. B. C. McFARLAND. Att'y at Law and Notary Public—Office on S. Diamond St.— opposite the Court House—sec ond floor. H. Q. WALKER, Attorney-at-Law-Offlce in Diamond Block. Butler. Pa. J. M. PAINTER, Attorney-at-Law. Office—Between Postoffice and Diamond, But ler. Pa. A. T. SCOTT, ATTOHNEY-AT-LAW. Office at No. 8. Houtli Diamond, Butler. I'a. A. M. CHRISTLEY, ATIOUNKV AT LAW. Oflie -etonil floor. Anderson HI k. Main St, i ear < ri.it Dense, liutler. I'a. J. w. HUTCHISON, ATTORNEY AT LAW. Office ou second Boor of the Huix.lton block. Diamond, Butl"r. !*».. Koom No. I. IRA McJUNKIN. Attorney at Law, Office at No. 17, K.IM Jc'Her hii St., Butler. Pa.; w. C. FINDLEY, Attorney at Law and Beal Estate Agent. Ot flee rear of L. Z. Mltchell a office on north side of Diamond, Butler, Pa. H. H. GOUCHER. Attorney-at-law. Office on second floor ol Anderson bonding, near Court House. Butlnr. Pa. NEWTON BLACK. Att'y at Law—Office on South Ride of Dtamon Butler. I'v L 8. McJUNKIN, Insurance ami Real Estate Ag'l 17 EAST JEFFERSON ST BUTLER, - PA. HI TJ EH Wlfim Mutual Fire Insurance Co Office Cor. Main & Cunningham fttg. H. C. HKINEM AN, SECRETARY DIRECTORS: Alfred Wlek, Henderson Oliver, Dr. W. Irvln. .lamen Stephenson, W. W. Blackmore, N. Weltiel, F. Bowman. D. T. Norrls, Geo Keiterer. < hiis. Welihun, JohnOrohman, John Koenin«. LOYAL S, MMUNK.IN, Agent. SUTLER, PA. A. E. GABLE, V eterinary Surgeon. Graduate of the Ontario Veterinary College. Toronto, Cftuado, Ur. Qable treatH all riiaeapeß of the domesticated animals, and m?keß rid«rlin(r, castration and horse den tißtry a specialty. Castration per formed wi'hout clams, and all otber surgical operations performed in the most scientific manner. Calls to any part of the country promptly responded to. Office and Infirmary in Crawford's Livery, 132 WeM, Jefferson Street, li uiler Pa. G. D. HARVEY, Contractor and builder in brick work, urate and inanlrl wiling and nil Kinds of nrlck-laying a specialty. Also dciil.-r In I .irrcl llm<*. Wam pum loo><- lltiif, cements. Nailon.il. I'>)rtlainl and &I 1 iietl grades In tho market. Calcined plaster hair, Klnu's cement, fire bflcU. I lie. white sand and jlvcr har.d. Mam oliicv :iU . Main Kirepv, aud ail ordert left at ware houae W'lllreC/lveVdompi ilt'llvory. Terms reasonable. Farm F'or Sale. A tarui. Improved, and In a litsh state of cultivation, situate In Adams twp Hiitlercouii ty. Pa., on the Three tiejfree road, two miles from plank road, and two inlles from Mars station on P er thereon to fence same; it»oo sprlnu of water at door; In oil locality, unlca.ied, and Cvintaliilnit fill acres. A two-story fra ..n dive ding house Will flvfe roiiiiia aid hall, and bank barn 3«xJ6. jmtli in excellent onler. ALSO another farm convenient to above; same twp.. contaliduK ®> acres, with amali dwelling hou ;e and b irn. Ow er, on account of age. drains to Roll and quit farming Terms Willi** made convenient to purchaser. Call on oj address ./AMES PKKBY. pi stuflice. Valencia. I'a. Advaftiae to the Omul Tin: in TI.KR CITIZEN. HUSELTON'S SHOES! Worth Looking Our Boots and Shf.es are making an imprest-ion "on the Hands of time." __ , VVebelprur cußtomt ra to ruake their "****• "'"*"—walk i» life e«sy hy fitting iht-rn wiih W Shoes that fit their feet comfortably. J* i e pay ppecisl attention t-> this, as no * ' Boot or Shoe will wear weil that does not fit properly. There is enough trouble and pain in this life without increasing is by wearing 111 fitting shoes All oor footwear i» selected cerelaily from the mod improved last" ns well as quality ot j-toek etc We keep the* kind that will fit comfortably and wear, we keep the bei-t at the lownst prices. We don't keep a Ladie.- Shoe* Ht SI.OO ail f-ay it is W' rth $2 00 'ha' i» an old, old chestnut, but we do say we have a Ladies fin.- Sh< <- ».i $1 00 thpt ear.not be matched either for tftyU- o< wear, we say the (-hue o' our Ladies entire line from $1.25, $1 50. $2.00 $2 50, and $3 00 and up t > $4.0 <) and $4 50. Don't you get tired of reading some fellows advertisers rits when they say g H>d* are t eing Slaughtered at anv price to clean up. etc. thur this or that BOTB Buot is selling at jil 00 worth $2 00 Now there is jus' one of two thines. either they made a big profit before or not telling 'h truth, recollect tl.e.se lib«raj fellows don't lose any money, toode are pi r bsps dear at the low piice« Domed after you aee them and more esptciallj after you wear them It seems useless to quote a long list of prices ft* you Cftnoot you st e the goo->z- e 1 to 5 you ever M> a M U can g«*tit here, a Man's Boot at $1 50.Childttn s Shoes at 25, 50 and 75 CTB . Boy V fine Shoes at 85 eta., these are straight prices no huuibug to pull you in. neither are they sold at SO GEItfTS om T l Flave a lot Misers Rubbers at 10 cts a pair and they are not worth 30 cts. either, recollect we have the largest sto.'k to select from, best goods and lowest prices, we dou't handle «ny old jobs, sold ch*ap on account of some imperfections, but solid, new and desirable linesat the lowest price B. C. HUSELTOX, - - 102 N. MAIN ST , BUTLER, PA The Price Broken Rubber Goods Forced to go! The greatest rubber Stale ever known O In Pi ■ogress at Bickel's! Men's Rubber Boots $2 00. Bo}s' Rubber Boots $L 40. Youths' Rubber Boots SI.OO. Child's Rubber Boot 90 cts. Read and Wonder! Come and Buy! Men's Rubbers 40 and 50 cts. Ladies' Hubbers2s cts. M ist-es' Rubbers 15 cts. Child's Rubbers 10 cts. Customers Delighted! Competitors Depressed! LttditV Buckle arctics 65 cts. Ladie- ' < loth alsiskas 40 cfs. Men's ( loth alaskas 50 r-ts. l 'i rlection overs for felt 150 >ts GO cts Rich and Poor Alike are Benefited. Men's Kip Boots $1 35. Bins' Kip Boots Si.DO. Chi'd's Kip Boots 5 (Jets. Men's Working Shoes 85 cts. Boys High Cut Button Shoes 75 cts. No Cobwebs 011 my Goods. I Hell Ladies' Button Shoes 90, SI.OO and $1.20. Misses' Shoes fine 75 and £1 00 Child's Shoes pat-tip 50 cts. Bady's Shoes 10, 25 and 50 cts. Remember the old saying "The ear'y bird catches the worm." Con eto this Sale Quickly. It can't last long. Boots and Shoes Made to Order. JOHN BICKEL. BUTLER, - -- -- -- -- PEN IN'A Overstocked! GREAT BARGAIN SM For 30 days only. BOOTS, SHOES AND RUBBERS. At less than wholesale prices. Stock must be reduced at at once, Big Line of Xmas Slippers, Come and see us. Remember the place. GRIEB & VOGELEY. 347 S. MAIN ST., Opp, Willard House. (fw jjjsnr [Original.] won't do it, so there:" Jg The words is sued from the'lips of a decidedly pretty, eighteen-year-old girl; and her demeanor as she uttered them indicated that she was not in the pleasantest of humors. "15ut, Doris, it is my dearest wish," expostulated the portly old gentleman, who was sitting in an arm-chair by the library table. "I don't care if it is the dearest wish of the president, his cabinet and all contrress combined; I won't do it, and there's an end of it. I'ncle, you aston ish iue. Whatever has taken possession of you, I arn-suro IJon't know. The idea of your niece, Doris Wilford, marrying a man she has never seen. It Is pre posterous!" "He's wealthy, my dear, and not much over thirty." "Not much over thirty! That means he's thirty-nine if he's a day. Eighteen from thirty-nine leaves twenty-one. Not a great difference. He's only old enough to be my father. On second consideration, I believe I will marry him, if only to have people pity me." "Doris, this trifling must cease. Tell me, now, ot>ce for all —will you. or will you not, marry Vane Evarts?" A dainty nose goes up and a dainty foot comes down. "Once for all, then. Uncle Cal, if the court knows itself, I don't think I shall." "Very well, Doris, you know the pen alty." "Yes, I think I do. If hearing one thing incessantly for three solid weeks is not enough to make one remember it, I don't know what is. Your penalty isn't so terrible, Uncle CaL I think the country must be delightful." "At this time of year, yes; but how about the winter months? You will miss ;» great many good times, Doris." "Really? Well, now, uncle, there will be corn husk ings, singing schools, spelling bees and goodness knows how many amusements. I anticipate any amount of enjoyments; perhaps I'll even settle down into a farmer's wife. Tome and see me. Uncle Cal, and I'll give you all the strawberries and cream you can eat." •'Doris, you surely do not know how your decision pains me, or you would take a different course. Consent to see Vane, at least Won't you. dear?" But the girl shakes her head. "I can't. I won't consent to be thrown at any man's head. 'This is my niece; you may take her or leave her,' sounds well, don't it?" Her tone is still tantalizing, but h*r lips have a little pathetic droop and her eyes are humid. She bends lower and rests her cheek again ,t her uncle's; then, without another word, she leaves the room. When she comes down again, which is not until the following morning, she is arrayed in a neat cloth traveling dress. Her uncle is already at break fast, but he glances up from his letters as she takes her seat. "You seem in a hurry to leave me, Doris," i> all lie says at the time; but an hour Liter, when all arrangements have been made and the carriage drives up, he looks down at her, as she stands in the hail clinging to his arm, and says, almost brokenly; "So I am to lose my little girl. Well, Ileaven keep you, dear. Write to me often and don't be too obstinate." Doris was crying, but by no means conquered "1 won't yield, Uncle Cal," she says, "but 1 know who will. You will cfiax me back inside of two months, see if yoti don't," and, with all a woman's sat isfaction at having the last woril, she kisses him good-by and is driven away. Pacing the floor of a sumptuously furnished dining room is a very angry old gentleman; seated at the table, perusing a paper in perfect indiffer ence. is a handsome man some years younger; and I'll introduce them to you as Capt. Percy Evarts, and his son. Vane. Suddenly the sound of footsteps ceases, and the old man faces his son. "You mean it. Vane?" The paper immediately drops. "I do, sir," li» answers. "You are exasperating. Vane. Why can't you see things in their proper light? It is high time you were married, and why won't Doris Wilford do as well as anyone else? 1 must say, you are hard to please." "Maybe I am; but, father, I do claim the right of selecting my own wife. Miss Wilford irtay be all, more than all you say; but sV is scarcely more than a child und I do not love her." "How can you, when you've never seen her?" "That's just it. I haven't seen her aud 1 have no wish to see Her; at any rate not as her prospective suitor. I am content us I am. I'll remain so until I meet my fate; and I have no idea of meeting her in the form of Doris Wil ford We've always been good friends, father; don't let us quarrel now. Let us drop the subject I'll give in just so far —I am contemplating a run into the country, and while I am there I'll consider your proposition, and we'll de fer a positive answer until my return." The anger dies from Capt Evarts' face, c*id he thanks his son warmly. Then they both leave the house to till their several engagements. "Take care, SK*. you'll get your feet muddy there!" "How do you know?" queries the gentleman addressed, looking first at Lis dainty boots, then at the clear, ap parently harmless stream bubbling be- Death them, and finally at the sun browned girl who is munching an ap ple upon the opposite bank. "How do I know? Because I tried it myself," is the answer. "If you don't believe it, here's evidence," putting a pretty, mud-covered boot forward for inspection. "I went to cross there about half an hour since, and that's tho result of my ignorance. "There is a lotof quicksand right un der your feet, almost." "Thanks, awfully. Perhaps you can tell me some way to get across." "Really, I can't The question has been troubling me for some time. I don't know liow to get back to Uncle Charlie's." "Theu you don't live here?" "Oh, no! 1 urn visiting my uncle, Mr. Harcourt" "You are Miss Harcourt then, I pre sume? My name is Vance Evarts." A look of surprise passes over the girl's fuce, which is fortunately hidden at the moment by her sunbonnet "Yes, I am Miss Harcourt," she says, rising hastily. "1 am glad to meet you, Mr. Evarts; but I must get back home some way. Auntie wants me to help gather some grapes; but I had forgotten all about them, so good day, sir." "Please don't go yet." "1 must; provided I can get across this abominable brook." "You are angry that I presumed to introduce myself. I beg your—" ' "O. yon needn't mindi I'm aot a bit BUTLER, PA., FRIDAY, FEBRUAIiY '2(i, 1.892. mad, only 1 must hurry nomc. u aear. with a rueful glance at the clear stream, "I wonder if there isn't a bridge some where."' "I doubt it Give me your hand and I'll help you across." "But I'm afraid of the quicksand." "I won't let it hurt you this time. Come, give me your hands, so! Now, jump; now, you are all right" "Thanks!" exclaims Miss Harcourt in whom the reader has probably recognized Doris Wilford. "It wasn't a bit bad. that time. No, you mustn't walk home with me. Uncle Charlie might scold." "Would he? I'm sorry; but I hope we'll meet again before you leave, Miss Harcourt" "Very likely we shall, as my stay promises to be a long one. Au rrro.r."' Vane Evarts watches the dainty little blue clad figure lose itself among the trees; but not for one moment does he dream of the thoughts that are passing through the lovely gold crowned head. "Well, he's not so bad, after all," soliloquizes Doris, as she climbs the fence separating ?he woods from her uncle's cornfield. "He doesn't look very old and he certainly is handsome. Unfortunately," smiling to herself, "he is minus his picturesque red hair and possesses two beautiful brown ej es in stead of one faded blue one. I believe I'll steal a march upon Uucle Cal, for I wouldn't mind marrying him a bit if I can get him to pfropose before he learns who I really am. I must got Uncle Charlie to work for me if I ex pect to succeed. He mustn't introduce me here as Miss Wilford. 1 must be 'Miss narcourt' until I go back to "DORIS,WHAT 18 TUE MEANING OF THIS?" Chicago. How funny it sounds. There, thank goodness, I'm through that hor rid cornfield at last I wonder," with another smile, "if auntie has those im aginary grapes picked yet? Wasn't that a nice fib, though?" By t his time Doris has reached the gate of her uncle's home, and, as tea is already spread under the trees in the front yard, her musings must cease for the time being. Of course it is by accident that the next day and the next, and the next Doris Wilford meets Vane Evarts in the wood; it is also by accident that he calls upon her repeatedly, and that she keeps her true name concealed from him by the help of her sworn allies. Uncle Charlie and Aunt Ethel; but whether the result is an accident I, for one, cannot presume to say. Certain it is, that by some means Mr. Evarts becomes aware of the fact that his heart is no longer in his own possession, but is held very closely by a certain golden-haired sun-browned little lady who calls herself Doris Har court. Ho has just told her this, sit ting by the brook where they first met only two months ago, and is waiting for his reply. "You have taken mo ty surprise, Mr. Evarts, and I really have given no thought to the subject I am not at all sure 1 love yon, and I must have a little time to decide. I'll tell you next week." "But I'll be in the city next week, and from there I must go home. My business requires it." "You'll be in Chicago next week?" "Yes." "How nice! When I think of it Uncle Charlie lias jnst received an in vitation from an old college chum to visit him there as soon as possible and I am going with him on a sight-seeing expedition. Could you not call upon me there?" "I suppose 1 might Who is your uncle's friend?" "Let me see," and Doris puckers her pretty forehead into a most bewitching frown. "Wilmont Willis Williams no, Wilford —that's the name, Mr. Cal Wil ford." Vane starts. "I don't believe I can meet you there." "And why not pray?** "Has he not a niece, Doris Wilford?" "Dear me! How should I know? He may have half a dozen for all I care. I don't see what difference it would make, anyway." "It would make a good deal of dif ference, pet Doris Wilford is the girl my father wishes uie to marry." "Why don't you marry her? One Doris is as good as another any day " "Possibly. But I love only one Dor' . and that one is you. Doris Wil ford doesn't stand the shadow of a chance. Won't you marry me, pet?" "I'll tell you a week from to-day at Mr. Wilford's, and not one minute sooner. I must have time to think about it 1 like you immensely, but of loving you I'm not so sure. 15ut I am almost frozen, and am r-oing home, so I must say good-by." Doris draws the soft crimson cape more closely around her trim shoulders, straightens the dainty sailor hat upon her tumbled head, then walks away some distance. Suddenly she turns and calls back: "Do you know Mr. Wilford?" Vane is at her side in a moment "I've seen him once or twice at home. Why?" "THen 1 suspect you had better ask for him when you call ucxt Thursday. I may not be there; but if I am you'll be sure to see me." "Doris, you are too provoking." "Provoking, Mr. Evarts? now, pray?" "Why do you keep mo in suspense? Promise mo faithfully to be at Mr. Wilford's Thursday, will you?" "O, I don't know," impatiently. "Promise me, or I'll not call." Vane is standing before his compan ion, with one hand on her shoulder, and tho other under her chin, compelling her blue eyes to meet his brown ones. "You'll ask for Mr. Wilford, any way?" "I'll ask for Mr. Wilford, anyway." "Then I'll promise. Now, good-by." "Good-by," says Vane, and before Doris is aware lie lias stooped and kissed her lips. "Forgive me, dear one," he whispers. "I couldn't help it" The next Tuesday morning a hack deposits Miss Wilford at her uncle's door. Mr. Wilford sees her alight, comes forward to meet her aud almost carries her into the house. "So you are home at last girlie?" "Yes, and heartily glad to be here. I'm tired to death of the country. Even now when I shut my eyes I can't see anything but cows. Aren't you glad to have me back?" "Indeed I am, little one." They are in the library now, and she is perched upon his knee as he sits in his great arm-chair. She toys restless ly with his necktie, aud with difficulty broaches the subject uppermost in both minds. • "Uncle Cal, I've done it." "Done what, child?" "You know very well what I mean." "lou've made a decisionls that it?" ••Yes, and I've decided that rather than live in the country for three mor tal years, I'll marry V;yie Evarta, or even the man in the mixta." Her uncle kisses her affectionately, saying-: "Now you are my own little pirl a?ain. Suppose you go and put on one of those pretty wrappers of yours and rest while I write some letters. Then this afternoon we'll go driving." A second surprise, even greater than the first, greets Mr. VVilford when on Thursday afternoon a card is given him bearing the name of Vane Evarts. "Tell him I'll see liim in a moment," he says to the maid, then turning to Doris: "Will you como with me?" "In a moment, L'nolo Cal," answers Doris, who is already straightening her collar. She pives the gentlemen time for the customary greeting, then de scends. Her uncle turns as she enters, therefore he do.-s not see the expres sion of pleasure that passes over Vane's face. "Mr. Evarts, let me present you to my niece, Doris Wilford. Doris, this is Vane Evarts." Tableau. Doris, her pretty faco dimpling with smiles stands looking full in the face of Vane Evarts, who, in liis turn, looks from her to Mr. Wil ford and from Mr. Wilford back again with expressions of surprise and con fusion chasing each other over Jiis countenance. Uncle Cal forms the background and stands, the picture of bewilderment, rubbing his bald head with the palm of his hand. After a few moments of profound silence, Mr. Evarts finds his voice: "In Heaven's name, Doris, what is the meaning of this? Are you— were you—you are not Doris Wilford?" "Am I not? Ask L'ncle CaL" "Well—but —why did you tell me you were Doris Ilarcourt?" "1 didn't tell you. You merely jumped at the conclusion, and I let you stay where you landed. You fell in love with 'Doris Harcourt.' Won't you forgive Doris Wilford? She is never so penitent" As she says this, she steps to Vane's side and slips a tiny hand within his own, an irresistible smile playing about her mouth. Vane looks down at the witching, roguish face upturned to his, and fondly replies: "You don't look overpenitent, my love, but, provided you never repeat the offense, I'll forgive you this once." Then, with all the audacity of which men arc sometimes capable, he kisses her. "In the name of common sense, what do you two mean?" interpolates Mr. Wilford, li.s bewilderment increasing. "Have you met before?" " 'We met by chance, the usual way,' Uncle Cal," says Doris; then, in her graphic way, she gives a sp'rited de scription of all that has occurred in the past two months, andacloscs by intro ducing Mr. Evarts as her future hus band. •'How about the red hair and sky blue eye, girlie/' her uncle recovers himself sufficiently to say Looking up at the dark brown hair and eyes above her, Doris demurely replies: "It was decidedly against my will that I was convinced of my error, and, you know, l'ncle Cal: 'A woman con vinced i:gai:ist her will is of the same opinion still.' " "WITCH IIAZEI." 19 THIS MIND-KKADINGT Blindfolded Medium (with pistol)— "You started from the bank an hour ago with a pile of ten and twenty dollar bills, which you have at the present moment in the inside pocket of your waistcoat; you have also two rolls of gold coin in your trousers pocket. Will you kindly throw up your hands for a few moments whilst I convince myself whether I am right or wrong in my sur mises?" He was right.—Brooklyn Life. Klack Diamond*. Mr. Worldlywise—l wonder if these jet ornaments and passementerie on ladifcs' cloaks and wraps are not made from coal. Friend —Why do you ask? Mr. Worldlywise—Because if they are made of coal, and coal goes up to what it was last year, I'll shove my wife's jewelry and dresses into the stove a«d save enough money to pay for my liquor and cigars.—Texas Siftings. From the German. Absent-Minded Professor —now do you do. Miss Sclummelpfenig? Miss S.—l am very well, thank you. "But why are you in mourning?" "Don't you know, professor, that my father died last week?" "You don't tell me so! When you gc borne tell your father that I am very sorry to hear of his affliction." To Fit an Occasion Requires. Mrs. Whalen —Hov yez enny short pants fer byes? Sir. Silvcrstein —I hafe not. I hafe long bants for mens. Buy a bair for your husban', vash 'em vonce; und dey vill fit der chile. I hafe sold bants dot hafe vent drue a whole chcncration like dot. Do longer you vash em de smaller dey gits.—Judge. Misleading Direction*. Col. Blitgrass—How shall I reach the river, sah? Yank —Jest follow your nose straight ahead. Col. Blugrass —Sah! Does my nose look like a nose, sah, that would lead me to watah sah?—Puck. A ro>t-Oraduat«. He—What a modest, lovely creature she must bo! See how she blushes on the slightest provocation. How fasci nating! She—And yet some parents don't be lieve in our young women's institute ol physical culture. —Judge. Intelligent Alma-Giving. Mendicant- —Dear lady, I am paralyzcc on one side and starving. I know by your sweet face you will help a poor old Bible-reader. Won't you? Lady (handing him money)— Here, my poor friend, go and get your beer.— Judge. Not Far Out of the Wav " Your husbaml is writing his mem oirs, is he not?" inquired the visitor. "Yes," assented the venerable pro fessor's young wife, with an engaging simper. "He's at work on his —on his autopsy, I think he calls it."—Chi cago Tribune. SarcaHtlc. Miss Walling Mr. Sharpe, the shrewdest speculator on Wall street, told me to-night that I had the finest complexion he had ever seen. Miss Elderly—Well, Mr. Sharpe hat the reputation of being a very fur sighted man.—Judge. A Colt! Ilcceptlon. Cobble Billy Bender thought h« would be funny, so he went to the dertakcrs' hop togged out in a shroud. Stone—How was he treated? Cobble —Oh, they laid him out.—Cl» thier and Furnisher. POULTRY HOUSE HEATER. The Clever lievlee Invented by a Nee Jemry Woman. The design of a cheap poultry house heater, by Miss lint tie Seelv, Flam fiioutoll. N J., is not only novel, but it is a contrivance that costs so little, and can lie so quickly and easily arranged, as to com mend itself at a glance. An ordinary lamp having a tin chimney, with a piece of mica in front of the chimney (so as to suow the flame), is surrounded by an ordinary stovepipe (the larger tho pipe the better), or a sheet-iron or tin pipe may be made for the purpose, a board being arranged at the bottom of the pipe, by tacking the pipe to the board, for the lamp to rest on Or, if preferred, two cross strips may be placed at the bottom in place of the board, as it will allow more air to come in. Air holes are cut all around the pipe, so as to permit of a free cir culation of air. A sliding door, or one CHSAI* POULTRY HOUSE UEATEIL to raise up and down, may be arranged for placing the lamp in the pipe, or for taking it out for tilliug; or the bottom strips may be arranged for that pur pose. No solder is used—all the parts should be riveted. At the top is a cross piece, also made of iron or tin. the ar rows indicating the direction of the heat. The heater may be hung up by wire (which is attached to the hook shown on top) from the roof, but with in three feet of tho floor, to prevent in terference or contact by the fowls. If preferred, the heater may rest on the floor, but should then be protected by a wire cage to protect against the hens. Any kind of lamp, or small coal-oil stove, may be used, but the chimney should be of tin, riveted (not soldered). It is best to have the whole heater made by a tinner, of tin or sheet-iron, and about ten inches iri diameter and twen ty inches high, the crosspiece being also twenty inches long, but stove-pipe may be used over a small lamp. In place of the crosspiece, a tin plate may rest on wire pegs, raised three inches over the top of the pipe, to al low of free draught. By this arrange ment, the heat is distributed in both directions from the center of the poul try house. It is only necessary to keep out frost, hence <0 or 50 degrees aboTe zero is warm enough, and the house will also be kept dry There will be no injury from foul air or carbonic acid gas, as plenty of air will always find its way in. This should be used only on cold nights. Farm and Fireside. POULTRY IN WINTER. Tha Kind of Feeding That Wilt Aaauro Satisfactory HMU t>. In the morning give the fowls a warm breakfast, prepared the even ing previous Ly cutting up a bucketful of clover hay in half-inch lengths, using a cutter made for the purpose. To this cut hay add one quart of corumeal and two quarts of bran; scald with boiling water and let it stand over night, covered with a piece of old car pet or bagging. Before feeding it in the morning stir the whole mass thor oughly together, and ivhile it is warm place it in the feed troughs. At first they eat sparingly of it, but in a few days they will clean it all up uieely and very quickly After this feed they will sing merrily and bo very happy, and a little later their crooning song is changed to the staccato cackle which announces the much coveted eggs. At dinner time two quarts of wheat may be scattered among tho litter, aud the fowls will scramble in great coufu ■ion for it They scratch and pick among the chaff, obtaining the exer cise needed to prevent storing up fat, which is to be always avoided as an enemy to egg production. In the even ing, before they go to their roosts, give them a feed of whole corn, which fur nishes employment to their digestive machinery during the night, aud sup plies the needed heat while inactive. This promotes a comfortable night's rest which poultry need as well as man. Twice a week change the morning feed. Omit the cut clover hay, and give them a warm mess composed of mashed boiled potatoes, turnips, beef scraps aud dissolved pork cracklings, some corn meal and wheat briui, all thoroughly mixed and fed warm (not hot). This supplies the variety neces sary to health. The beef scraps and pork cracklings supply animal food in place of the worms and bugs they get while at liberty Occasionally give them corn and oats groun ! together in place of pure corn meal. — American Agriculturist RURAL BREVITIES. THEKK is good common sense in the injunction to increase the feed grad ually when preparing a cow for a test A month is not too long for prepara tion. 1 f too rapid progress is made, it is almost certain to cause indigestion, of which the least bad effect is waste of food. A CORRESPONDENT of the Journal of Agriculture selected two hogs of the same size, weight, age aud thrift To one he gave an ounce of salt daily, to the other none. The one salted had a much keener appetite than the other, and In three months weighed fifty pounds the most. A BARE wall is not an attractive Bight at any time, yet a bare wall can be ornamented by running vines, such as the morning glory, or it may be used for supporting grapo vines. The cost is insignificant and the difference in appearance will make the whole farm attractive. Her Only Hopa. "Paleontology, you know, Mis* Laura," said the professor, who had lingered till the hands of the clock pointed to 11:15, "is my specialty. It is only necessary for one to make a re mark abo'it paleontology to get me started and—" And the young lady slowly, distinctly and with emphasis made a remark about paleontology. —Chicago Tribune. An Kmbarrasslu* Mistake. Jack— Chumpley made a curious mis take. He asked Ethel to forgive him for not calling oftener, and she said: "Certainly." Then he asked her to marry him and she said: "Do." Harry—By which she meant ditto? Jack—So Chumpley thought, but it ■eems that she had a cold in her head. —N. Y. Herald. And That Would Never Do. Maj. Murgatroyd—My dear boy. pray Tepressyoar spirits. Remember this is a very select ball. You must not swear, laugh boisterously or drink too much champagne. Ponsonby—But, major, if I behave myself like a gentleman people will take me for a waiter.—Smith, Gray A Co.'s Monthly. severe I'unlshtneut* First Boy—I)o they whip at youi «cliool? Second Boy—No; I wish they did. First Boy—What do they do? Second Boy—Keep you in at recess.— Good News. FEEDING OF SWINE. Ther KeeS aa Oeed Care aad »o«4 aa Amj Other Stuck. So long as corn and swine are grown (n this country tbe former will un doubtedly form a cheap and desirable food for the latter. But experience has demonstrated that It should not be an exclusive food It la too fattening and produces a gross mass of fat without the proportion of lean which has now come to be regarded, and wisely, aa a more desirable form of pork. Besides an exclusive diet of corn is heating, and causes constipation and a condi tion of the system favorable to dis ease. Better results, says the Orange Coun ty Farmer, can be obtained by adding to the corn ration other material which will serve to counteract tho evil effects of corn, while retaining all the desir able elements of that grain. One plan is to feed bran or middlings, with a a small quantity of oil meal, made into a slop with milk, or wator when milk cannot be had. Give a good feed of this slop before feeding the corn, then feed the corn and fill up the trough again with the slop It has been found that when this is done the hogs will eat corn awhile, then run to the trough for a few swal lows of slop and repeat this a number of times before they have finished eat ing, thus showing that they enjoy both solid and liquid food at their meals. But the slop should not be de pended upon to take the place of water which'should be furnished two or three times a day clean and pure. A farmer who practices thia method of feeding finds it much more satisfac tory than a corn ration alone. The hogs are healthier and yield a better quality of pork. Be is afraid of chol era and tries to feed and manage his stock so that the disease will never get a start among them. He sprinkles the eating and sleeping place every other day with air-slacked lime, ashes and copperas in it all the time, which Is acessible to the hogs. The old idea that no care need be taken to supply swine with either clean food or clean and comfortable lodging lias largely given place to a more rational view They need, to secure the best results, as good care snd food as any stock. INEXPENSIVE HOTBED. How to Construct and Op«rmt« Ou A Profitable Investment. With very little time and work, aad s trifle of money, anyone may have a hot-bed in which to start early plants luch as tomatoes, peppers, cabbage, lettuce, sweet potatoes, etc. The bed ihould be started early in March north it 40 degrees latitude, and in February 'urther south. Make a large heap of !resh horse manure, tramping the vari >us layers firmly to insure rapid fer nentation, which will begin in two or ;hree days. Then rebuild the heap and et it remain two or three days longer, when the second fermentation will iave begun. In some dry, sheltered si ace facing the south or east, dig a pit feet deep and of the size required for the hotrbed. One ox 3 feet is big enough for a large family. For permanence, brick up the sides aa ihown iu the illustration, but lumbar tnswers for 3 or 3 years, aad should be 18 inches above the ground un the back and 13 inches in front Fill thia sit to the level surface of the ground with the fermenting msnure, tramping it down firmly in layera Put on the I AN INEXPENSIVE HOT-BSD. sashes and wait for the heat to riso. Any kind of sashes will do if groovos are cut in tlie frames to drain the water off. Though it will at first be too hot for the seeds, in two or three days the temperature will fall to about 110 de grees; then soil composed of good gar den soil mixed with X its bulk of well rotted manure may be put on to • depth of t) or 8 inches. In this sow the seed thinly in drills 3 or 8 inches apart. When they come up thin out or trans plant to another frame. Give fresh air every mild day by raising the sashes at the back. Ou cold nights and during snowstorms keep the bed covered with mats, boards, shutters or other protec tion. Warm the water used a little.— Orange Judd Farmer. iheose Should Be Bold by Test. There is no chemical union of ele ments in cheese making, but merely a mechanical combination. It follows, therefore, that the elements can be re solved to their individual condition after they have existed in combination to make a cheese. This being the case, it is just as easy to test the per cent of fat in a cheese as to test the fat in ere a in. Take a cream tube of common length and fill it with cheese, and melt the contents by placing the tube In boiling water. No matter what the length of the melted cheese in the tube, if three and one-half tenths of it are not pure oil on the surface of the watery part, the cheeae waa either made from milk naturally poor, or had been skimmed. As the water in cheese is worth nothing, and the cascine not more than about three cents per pound, while the fat la worth twenty-five when cheese is worth ten cents, so cheese should be sold by test of its valuable constituenta Hoard's Dairyman. How to Make Moat gulckly. Though known as a fact by the ex perience of farmera it haa also been established by experiments made for that purpose that the per cent of food consumed steadily declines as an ani mal increases in size. In other words, the larger the animal the greater the amount of food required to make a pound of meat The cheapest and quickest meat made Is from young ani mals that are well fed. rapidly pushed from birth and sold aa soon aa they reach the proper size. The Cooking School Cook. Father— As you have had three terms at the cooking school, Jane. I supposed you'd know how to roast a piece of beef better than thia Why, It's burned to a crisp! Daughter—l don't see how I'm to blame. The fire was too hot, 1 suppose. Father—And why didn't you look out that the fire wasn't too hot? Daughter—The man always attended to that at the school, and Mra Mixter used to do the basting. All we did waa to do the tasting after the meat waa cooked.— IJostou Transcript lie Must Have Deen Itrnnb. Husband—What's the matter with darliug this morning? Wife—You know well enough what'a the matter. You came home drunk again last night "Me drunk last night? Never!" "But you owned up that you had been drinking." "I did, eh? Well, you oan't believe half what a man says when he's full."— Texas Siftinga Frsgreat Flowers. Florist—Here, take this cart-load of flowers to the Highstyle opera house. New Man—Yesslr. What shall I— "Unload 'em at the front entrance, and give 'em to the ushers to present to the prima donna after the curtain falia on the third act" "Yessir." "Then reload 'em at the stage door M>d bring 'cm back again."—Good IST O. XT MANURE WASTING. HaoUag Direet from Wtl. m »)l M tke Field. To a considerable extent the BUltr of handling or maaaglng A* ■■■am on the farm m undergoing ackufe. Many that formerly considered it neces sary to rot thoroughly before k — >l ~y oat aoA applying are naur wflllif to haul out fresh from the atabls* Many considered it best to haul oat sad apply on stubble load and then plow under as soon as possible, will now ap ply on plowed land during the winter, as on grass land, and allow the rain or snow to carry into the solL It used to be considered a great waste to apply manure on the surfao* and I*6 it remain ever so short a time, eh pecially fresh, coarse manure direct from the stables, under the impression that there was a very considerable losa by evaporation and leaching. In many cases there is some loea of ammonia by evaporation, bat that amount Is comparatively small, while under anything like ordinary condi tions the loss by leaching is not any more than if left in the stable or feed lots if as much, as the soil will take up a large per cent, of the soluble portions if the fcpplteation is mfcde either oa plowed land -or meadows. On hard smooth stubble land and especially if badly broken a hard beat ing rain may carry some of the soluble portions away. But with a little man agement there can always be either land plowed in the fall Intended to be planted to some crop in the spring or meadow land upon which all of the manure that can be seared on the farm during the winter can be hauled oat and applied. Hauling direct lessens the handling and in a majority of oases the best management now is to haul direct from the stables or sheds to the fields Good results csn be secured by spreading broadcast over grass land or clover or on land plowed in the fell to be plant ed to crops in the spring. Care should always be taken to spread evenly, es pecially on grass lands. In a majority of cases better results can be secured by surfsoe manuring than to apply and plow undar, aa in many eases this puts a good per oent of the manure too deep to be of a great deal of benefit to the plants, especially to that class the roots of which grow near the surface.—N. J. Shepherd, la Farm, Field and Htoekmsa. SIFTER FOR ASHES. Every ram (loose BkoaU Save Oaa a* Mors of Thtm. Scattered over the ground around many farm homes we see coal enough to run the stoves for a month. It was juat damped on the ground becaase it was too much trouble to pick it out of the ashes. We shouldn't care to do such picking with bare Angara, but it is well enough to let a sieve do the work. The sifter shown is made by a friend in Wisconsin, who says about it: "The apparatus consists of an ordi nary coal sieve with a narrow strip nailed across the center, aa shown, and let into the top of a baa having a hinged cover in the manner indicated in the drawing. The coal asbss may be poured into the sieve, and then the cover may be shut down, and the sift ing done without the necessity of sup porting the sieve and the ashes by the hands, and without the sansysncc a coax asm* sirrsi. aaused by the first settling on the clothing or blowing into one's face The box is made in sections, which osay be lifted so that it can be taken apart to facilitate ahoveling ont the ashes " A fter you get this sifter nude, don't conclude that just because you have made tiie work a little easier, sifting ashes is the wife's job. It isn't. It is a man's job as much as it is his duty to shovel coal or cut wood.—Bural New Yorker. Haw ta Make Lambs Grew. Ground oats, placed in a pea where the lambs can feed at a trough which the sheep cannot -reach, with a liberal supply of milk from the ewes, will make lambs grow rapidly, and if thsy gain as they should they will reaoh the market a month sooner than if they de pended on the ewes alone, aad aa this gain in time is an important point to keep in view for the high prices, every Inducement should be made to keep the lambs feeding and growing, bat the gsin will not be rspld unless thslambs are well bred, nor will grades equal the pure breeds. The heaviest galas made have been with Oxfords and Shrop shire a. The main point to observe with the ewe is that of providing plenty of milk for her lamb.—Hons and Farm. Rata Bap TuslfS. A fine crop of ruts bagas can bo frown on tbe potato patch, aad this Is the way J. K. May tells of doing it la the Practical Farmer. On a half-aers it potato ground, after the last hoeing, he sowed two ounces of seed of purple top Swede, and when digging ths potatoes was careful to hos ths dirt around the roots. It did not take four kours longer in digging the half-acre. He took from that patch one hundred bushels of fine potatoes and aeraatj* five bushels of ruta bagas This, he thinks, is better than raising a lot of watery turnips. Tbe Place for CoaversaStea. ••My dear," eald Mrs. Chstterly to Mrs. Chltterly; "I hsve so much to teU you, but I can't stay now." "Then go with us to the opera to morrow night," suggested Mrs •Chltter ly.—Puck. Below tbe Lowest Depths. Tls sad how deep into oblivion «• Some books we thought would ahlse oa ever] • To-d»y, while looking through atf weeks, ) found Two that I wrote, and then fortot, ajwU- —P. McArttmr, inPuek. Kxglalaed by Heredity. She —Do you know what it la to hav« a soul at war with itself? Be— Don't I, though? My father wai an Irishman and my mother an Italian, you know. —Judge. At Niagara. "Don't you juat love the grace ol nature, Mr. Dart?" "Grace of nature? Pshaw) Look al her now —how she falls all over her self" —Puck. Tbe thank Pair. "Is it safe to attend one at thaa* baaars with only a five-dollar bill lo your pocket?" "Well, you have to take eh as nee, t>4 course."—PucVc. Tbe Plaea ta Leek. Visitor— You have a wonderful collec tion of curious coins. How did yon gel them? Parson (dryly)— Found them is tbe plate.—Judge. - -