Newspaper Page Text
Jennie E. Zimmerman.
Domestics of all kinds
You are cordially invited to call and in
sjiect our stock.
JENNIE E. ZIMMERMAN,
(Successor to Ritter & Ralston.)
N. B.—Hot coffee and lunch served free to all our customers
every Saturday during the Winter Season. Commencing Saturday,
Nov. 4th. ' J. K. Z.
DON'T YOU THINK
You had better be getting your
The boys and girls are now going to school. The cold, wet
weather is here, and they must have boots and shoes that will posi
tively keep their feet dry and warm.
SHODDY GOODS WON'T DO IT.
No one can afford to have cold, wet feet. It costs too much to
settle THE DOCTOR'S BILL. It's penny wise and pound foolish.
keep* the kind of Footwear you are looking for, boih in quality and price, and wh..t he
tells, von can rely on is right.
READ A FEW PRICES:
MenV Kip Booln, tap sole box-t s."i.(K)Bud
Men'* Kip Boot*, wife leather eouutei' 2 s'l'inil 'l.7r
Mcn'rt H«-avy Boot*, prime 1 -10 ami 2 0«'
He*'* Heavy Bboea 70 anil 1.0
Men'* Fine Shoes, Con'g. and Bals 9o and 1.00
Boy*' Extra Prime Kip Boot* 1.75 aud 2.00
Boy*' Extra Henvy BooU 1.25 and 1.50
Boy*' Heavy Shoes 75 and 1.00
Boy*' Fin* Shoe*, button and lace 1.00 and 125
Boy*' Extra High t'ut Tap Sole Shoes 1.75 an.l 2.00
Women'* Fuie Shoes, button 85e., 1.00 and 125
Women'* Extra Oil Gran Button Shoes I.O<J and 1.25
Women'* Extra Oi' Grain Laee Shoe* 1.00 and 1.2'
Women'* Veal Kip Lace Shoes 75 and 1.00
Women'* Kip Shoes, unlined SI.OO, 1.25 and ! .30
Mines' Good Heavy Shoes 75 ac.d 1u„
Mimes Fine I Kid Button 75
Miwe* Fine Doutcola Button, Pat. Kip 1.00
W' men'? and Mif-nes' Kip »nd Calf Shoe? a specialty.
Womeu'* Warm Flannel Lintd Sboe* 75 and I.CO
Women's Warm Flannel Lined Slippers 50
WE LEAD IN RUBBER GOODS!
Men'* Fi r*t Quality Rubber Booi> 2.40
Boy*' RubtK-r Boot* 1.75 *nd 2.00
Ladies' Kubber* 25
Ladies, Fine Go*Mimer Rubber* 35 and 45
Children's and Misses' Robbers 25 and 3"'
Men'* and Women'* Piceadilla Rubber* for Narrow toe shoes
Men's Hip and Knee Root*, all style*, in Alaska* and Buckle Arctics
Men'* Kelt Boot* and Kubb'-rt 0
Boys' Felt Boois aud Rubbers 1.85
I haven't bad time to count the number of pairs I have in all goods, but 1 will
■ay I have twice as many as any other bouse in Butler, aud batter g.tids and lower price*
We don't carry our stock in the newspaper. Come and sej us.
B. C. HUSELTON.
Ho. 102 North Main Street - Butler, Pa.
A sU'ck mperior to anything we liave previously shown, and at prices that will
ten m shrewd buyer*.
Nothing prettier for your l'arlor than one of these Chairs. A lino
assortment to select from.
Exclusive Styles in tbeue good*, and Ihe prices will please you
In Brass, Dresden China and Glass. One of these will improve
the appearance of any Parlor.
In all tbe fine waces, such as Royal Wo'cester, Teplolz, Doleton
Royal Dresden, Royal Bono, <tc., Ac.
Plain x Vhite China.
Nothing mnie beautiful for a Present than a piece of this tfaro,
Decorated Dinner Sets.
Mmy New Patterns and a large assort.neut at Popular I'r ces
B> •ass and Iron Beds.
When yon want »n improve the appearance of y> ur Bed-room bt.y
one ol these lieils.
BED ROOM SUITS. BOOK CASES, CURTAIN' POLES,
PARLOR SUM'S, WINDOW SHADES.
SIDE BOARDS. G'l RTAIXS, STOVES AND TINWARE.
Butler, - Penn a.
a f?'f SX* ft/ 0 < / . . . .
THE BUTLER CITIZEN.
MRS. MILLY FERGUSON,
Troy. JT T.
The fnUovcina l. to DAXA'S
pnicer over OLD i HJROXIC (JO3I
PLAIXTS. fa* sent us './ ti"/>'- Groom
of the "GBOOJT 9 I'lfAJ.'-
AM CIV 120 Congress St.. Troy. X. V.:
Grvri KMtv -I hare been troubled with
LIVER «OMI*I.AI.\T. C®**TlPA
no> and BVSPEPW 1 for a long time-.
I employed the best Doctors In the city;
j they tolil me
Old Chronic Complaints
i w»re hard to «m>. Their medicine did
me II» cood. I stopped taking it and
boupl.t a bottle of I>\n'AS SA K- A PARI L
LA. Before 1 had taken half of it I felt
belter. I have taken three bottles of
eat anj'tliintc I mint and it does not
distress me In the least.
Troy X. Y. MRS. MILLY FERGUSON.
DANA SARSAPARILLA CO,, BELFAST, ME.
And everything in
horse ivnr3 bu£><>y i'ur-
ness, Collars, Whips
Du ster>, Sa-ddles, etc.
Also trunks and va
Repairing done on
short not ice.
I I he largest assort
ment ol r>-A Id or s<
blankets in town will
be lonnd at Korooer's.
I PHICES is !be motto a' .>>•
If you a-e sick find need nn-diciu
Ton want u.< BEST. T>.i * • ai
tlway* de|j-ud up u gt-Ming : ron: ijb,
•«H we Use imiijirn; but sine lv I'D e
[lroge in our Prescription DepaM
fneut. V'.Q t*n i p«*i ' :.f of every
thing in : hp d. ug line hum u*.
Uur store i- bi.-o tietdqu.r -r- for
PAisis, oils, mm
Kalsomine, Alatwoe k
Gel our pi ices be ore vou buy
aio la, nini *ee wiia we nave . o
fler. We can grave vou do a-s on
yoar puiui. bill.
J. C. REDICK,
JM am M. in >tt<J <t« I■\ i y
. L. 1*1; h V - t' t'l I •
MANI PAt ftEEKS AND I>KALEt> iS
Bough ana Plaited Lumbe
•K KV «; I I fcM.K in KIN,
& SEWER PIPE.
I i si
W. IJ i! ,
I'Siicce <n o ■it 0 iJ oil. j
Sanitary P umh a rs
ofcA I. r
Natural U.is Apphii > .
Jffl'.Mson St .opp. l-uwry FIOIIM
It •- WIC K
r»K 4 LEK I >1
R iujh 3i;d Wotk d I u-' f'
OF ALL XIKDS
Doors, - tvh, .is, Hon!,
Sniiifies jini : . .
'A i ways m ock
LIME HAIR AND »tAS"f h
Offlce «i|ip<> (• p. ,»■ w. Depot,
BEBKIMER & TAYLOR,
Funeral Directors and Embalmers
iam cr (' llt< V . next door to
Post Office, Butler, Pa.,
prompt a'tention given
to orders, day or
[Copyright, 1393. by A. N. Kellogp N^^rspap«rCo
AIT.OAT OS THE Missrssrppx
It was with deep regret that I parted
that evening from good Mrs. Dorion
and her auiiublo daughters. In the
brief time that I had been under this
roof I had enjoyed a sample of homo
life at the south that was to me as
novel as it was agreeable. When tbesa
kind ladies learned that I had de
termined to prosecute my journey to
Louisiana, they joined their husband
and father in urjrinjar me to delay.
"We are hardly acquainted with you
yet," said the matron. "I'd have yon
know, sir, it's not at all the Mississippi
way for a visitor to come one day, and
go the next."
"My curiosity isn't half satisfied,"
laughed Miss Celeste. "I supposed,
from what I had heard, that your New
England people were a kind of
kangaroo. We sec so little company
here that an interesting young man
like you is a positive godsend."
"And then," added a mischievous
younger sister. "Simon Tinsnet doesn't
eome over more than once a week."
"Perhaps I can furnish you with a
pood reason for stopping with us
itvhile. Vou want to see slave life
down here; you can't half see it unless
you witness the cotton picking. We
shriM b :lu in less than a month, and
the sight will be well worth seeing,
['m a southerner born and reared; yet
this is something that is always new
to mo and always grand. The section
of Louisiana where you are going is all
sugar; you'll see no cotton there, only
what is piled up in bales at New Or
leans. Don't I tempt you now?" Thus
Mr. Dorion talked.
He assuredly did; so greatly that I
realized that my only safety was to
firmly decline. To remain here even a
week would attach me so to these peo
ple and to this home that the thought
of Mr. Bostock would cease to trouble
me. If I would go to him. I must go at
once". There is nothing of the fatalist
in me; notwithstanding the strange
events of my early life which have
been and are to be recorded, I am a
plain, matter-of-fact kind of person; I
hail at twenty-one no more than the av
erage sentiment that belongs to young
people. When, therefore, i say that I
felt urged, impelled to travei on, it
wi-.l probably appear to others, as it
does to me, that I had a destiny to ac
I tried to say all this to my kind
friends in a way that would not seem
"Well, my lad, BO be it," said Mr.
Dorion. "I have forebodings about
you, and you must promise to write to
me all about Bostock. I have heard
something of northern pluck and obsti
nacy; I reckon you've got both. If you
will go. wait till the <-00l of the day,
and I'll drive over with you to Barre's.
It's only four miles across, and it will
be much handier than to go up to
Vicksburg. The Cotton Queen stops
there to wood up on her way down the
Very little passed between us as we
rode over to the river that evening.
Mr. Dorion was serious and thought
ful; and, while I anticipated new
scenes and adventures. I could not but
be sad with the parting.
"I hope we shall meet again. Dorr,"
he said, as a glimpse of the river ap
peared through the trees.
"I know we thall," was my answer, de
livered with a fervor that startled my
It was like the voice of prophecy.
Wo did meet again, in a situation and
under circumstances which romance
would vainly attempt to rival.
"Barre's" was a place on the low
riverbank where stood a solitary store
house, and some thousands of cords of
dry wood, ready for use. Two white
men of the class which had never
been two miles away from the river
sat and dangled their rusty boots in
the water, and with some profanity
and a vast expectoration of tobacco
juice, hotly argued the unsettled
question us to which was the fastest
boat, the Cotton Queen, or the S. S.
"Thar comes the Queen now," said
tho champion of that craft. "Ah, but
she's a beauty! If she ever kitchesthe
S. S. ou this water she'll walk right
"She'll never jotch her."
"Much you know 'bout boats."
"O, you talk! I was sailin' the Mis
sissippi when you couldn't tell a pint
o' water from a hogshead o' lasses."
The discussion was in a fair way to
"go on forever," but the near ap
proach of the stately Queen put an end
to it. Heralded by great volumes of
smoke beyond the point, and by that
peculiar, deep-drawn coughing of tho
pipes that accompanies one of theso
river monsters, slio burst into view like
a splendid apparition, reminding one
of the genii of the Arabian Nights,
ller great paddles churned the river
into foam. Twilight still prevailed,
but the signal colored lanterns were
hung out fore and aft and aloft, and
lamps were lit in the saloons, state
rooms and cabins. Tier upon tier the
great height of the steamer rose from
tbe water, the light flashing out from
every opening. Surmounting tho
whole was the "Texas," or pilot's
cabin, with the gilded figure of a queen
displayed in front of it, seated on a
gilt-corded bale of cotton. The lofty
smoke-pipes towered from the decks.
Everywhere the boat was crowded
I had long ere now recovered from
the amazement with which I learned
that wharves and docks were unknown
in these waters, which deepen rapidly
from the shore, and that these steam
ers are so light of draught that, to use
the quaint language of the illustrious
man who thoroughly knew the west,
they can go anywhere "where the
ground is a little damp." The Queen
came straight up to the shore; the two
loungers who had been discuss.ng her
and her rivals took the cables that
were thrown out and moored them to
the trees; and immediately a swarm of
half-naked negroes sprang ashore, and
under the urging of the mate, with an
occasional oath and blow, began to
take in wood for the long passage
down the river. It was a work of some
time, and darkness succeeded, the
moon rising late. An open iron bas
ket, fixed on a standard at the bow,
was filled with fat pine knots, continu
ally replenished as they burned out.
The fierce red light flared out over the
dusky faces and flitting for. is of the
negroes, and gave occasional glimpses
of the passengers as they leaned tin
the rails and watched the picturesque
scene. Mr. Dorion, standing at my
side, suddenly pinched my arm.
"Look up there on the second deck,
just beyond that group of ladies. Do
you see that tall tnan with the red vest
and check shirt-front?"
"1 haven't seen that face in twelve
year but 1 can't be mistaken in it.
That m-tn is Conrad Bostock. Dorr, I
hate to have you go on the same boat
ItFTLER. PA., FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 34, 1893
with him! If you are wise —"
The bell rang sharply. "Allaboard!"
thecntain sang out.
I wrung Mr Dorion's hand, and
passed over the plank. There was a
great convulsion of the engines and
splashing of the paddles as the Queen
backed out into the stream. I looked
toward the landing, but my good
friend was hidden in the darkness.
As our boat steamed down the river I
went about on this floating palace and
observed the curious sights.
A STIRRING SCENE
All told, there were about fifteen
hundr oplc on the Cotton Queen
that i They were of all sorts and
conditions. There were planters and
their families returning from an early
visit to the north; speculators by the
score who liad been up to Memphis
and bevond to look over the crop; some,
like myself, from the north, going
down the river upon errands of busi
ness or pleasure; not a few sporting
men, who frequented the bar. talked
loud and smoked long cigars, and tliere
was a Virginian taking thirty sldves
of both sexes to New Orleans for sale.
I had seen something already of the
grand scale upon which the large river
boats were constructed; but the mag
nificence of this one amazed mo.
Everything in the way of gilding, dec
orating and furnishing that could be
done was there, regardless of expense.
Tall mirrors in the saloons and cabins
multiplied the crowd. Carpets of gor
geous pattern and the first texture
were under foot. Profusion and vari
ety of viands were at the crowded
tables at mealtimes. I walked about
and mingled with the passengers, hear
ing much talk of the immense cotton
TWO MEN- SAT AT THE TABLE i'J.AYrNtt
and sugar yield which the season
promised, and of speculations and bar
gains in which less figures than a
hundred thousand dollars were never
named. The general tone, even in
business talk, seemed to be light, buoy
ant and confident. Life seemed to be
going on, like the boat that carried us,
at high pressure.
Until ten o'clock did I occupy my
self in visiting every part of the
steamer, and observing the passengers
and their different tastes and occupa
tions. In one of the large saloons
there was dancing and waltzing, to
the music of piano and violin. On the
after deck a brass band was pouring
fourth stirring strains, and hundreds
of couples were promenading. The
moon had by this time risen, and the
spectacle of her flood of light on tho
wide river was grand indeed. Rafts
and tlat-boats were passed, as well as
smaller freight-boats; and once the
steam-pipes of the Queen screamed
shrill in answer to the salute of a large
steamer going up.
"That's the Prentiss," a man near me
said. "Some day they'll happen to
come together, going the same way;
and then there'll be the biggest race
this river ever saw. Both captains are
eager for it, and there'd be piles of
money bet on it. I'd hope to be there
"Isn't it dangerous?" a man from
"Dangerous? Well, maybe, a little,
but we never think of that down here.
Steamboats always have raced, and
I reekon they always will. I feel my
self just this way about it—that if I
owned one of these boats, and she
couldn't carry steam enough to beat
the other without bursting—why, then
let her burst, and be d d to her."
"But the passengers?"
"I should say they'd better be at
home, that trip." I went forward and
found a large number greatly interested
in the performances of one of the negro
hands, who was dancing in a grotesque
fashion to the thrumming of a banjo.
Then I went below, past the gilded
and mirrored mahogany bar-counters,
when half-a-dozen men in their shirt
sleeves were mixing fancy drinks for a
noisy and thirsty crowd. Around a
table in an adjoining saloon so many
were pressing that I could not see
what the attraction was. They stood
on tiptoe and tried to peer over the
shoulders of those in front of them.
A large chandelier lighted the room,
but the point of interest was concealed
by the throng.
The pressure soon became so great
that I was crowded up against the
wall. More to save myself from suffo
cation than from curiosity, I reached
up to the top of a door-casing, put my
foot on the knob, and was at, once able
to elevate myself over all heads, and
look directly down upou the table.
The position was uncomfortable; but I
was not compelled to keep it more than
Two men sat at the table playing
cards. The one facing me I recognized
at once as he who had been pointed
out to me by Mr. Dorion as Conrad
The crowd overtopped them, hung
over them, but they paid no attention
to anything but their game.
Piles of gold'and notes were upon
the table. I could not see what the
game was or how it was being played:
but it was apparent that Bostock was
largely the winner. The pile of money
in front of him steadily increased, aud
the light sound of cards striking the
table was now and then punctuated by
something like an oath from the other
Suddenly this man made a noise
that sounded like a deep growl, and
drawing a knife from his sleeve
pinned to the table the card that his
opponent had just played. And so
quickly that the whole seemed to be
but a single motion, he drew a re
volver, cocked it and pointed it at the
The crowd fell back in fright; some
were thrown down and trampled under
foot, • ome were carried back against
the wall, and many who could fled
from the room. The two gum biers sat
"You wouldn't ,end a man out of
the world this way?" the one who was
threatened by the pistol said.
'"I ought to, you cheating scoundrel I
Sir." to a bystander, "just look at this
ace of diamonds that he played last.
Now look at the trumps he's played
there, and see if there ain't another of
'em. 1 '
The man addressed ran over the
cards, and quietly threw out another.
"I thought so; I thought I was
cheated, an hour back, but I couldn't
lay my finger on the spot till this min
ute. I'm going to take every dollar of
that money. Dan Turner, rake it in."
The revolver still covered Conrad
Bostock's head. The companion of the
man who held it proceeded to stuff his
pockets with great handfuls of the
gold and notes on the table until not
a dollar remained.
"Now, I've done with yon, you mis
erable, clumsy cheat"' the man with
the pistol said. "You ought to
be lynched. You're a disgrace to
the company of all gentlemen; but —'
"Lynch him! Throw him into the
river! Drown him! Tie him fast to a
nigger:" came a shower of suggestions
from the crowd.
The object of their attentions turned
pale. I hail marveled to see his com
posure when the muzzle of the re
volver was at his forehead: hut he
doubtless was thoroughly acquainted
with his own class, and knew that
there was no danger of more than :v
menace from that quarter, provided be
sat still antl made no resistance. But
when those hostile cries were heard, he
realized his danger at once, lie was
among gamblers, sporting' men. specu
lators and adventurers; many of them
had been drinking freely; his offense
was something each man. by reason of
his own mode of life, was prepared to
regard as a personal insult and injury.
And he probably knew. too. that no
wild beast of the forest or the wild is
so cruel in its rage as a crowd of men.
No time was allowed him to think
about it. A rush was made for him; a
dozen hands seized him; spite of his
struggles, cries and curses, he was
dragged along toward the gangway.
The captain came running down,
hearing the commotion; and, seeing
the situation of affairs, began to inter
cede for the endangered man.
"for God's sake, gentlemen, what's
the matter? Don't have any violence
"It's only a card-sharp we're go
ing to give a ducking."
"It's about time we made an exam
ple of some of these blacklegs who
travel along the river, fleecing honest
"I'd like to have him put down in
the furnace-room, till the boat gets to
"Save me, Capt. Norris!" the wretch
ed man exclaimed.
"Ah!—is it you, Con Bostock?" the
captain cried. "I know you of old.
Gentlemen, just spare him this time,
and if he ever dares to come aboard
the Queen again, you can drown him or
hang him, for all I care. But to-night,
please let's have no violence. It
might hurt the good name of my boat."
The appeal was successful. The
captain's interference had given two
minutes for re flection; and when a mob
can be got to think, there is hope of it.
With some dissent, the merciful coun
sel was approved.
"But you'll set him ashore?" some
"With great pleasure. There's a
landing two miles below; he'll have to
walk two miles to find a house."
The crowd became good humored at
the idea, and sundry coarse jokes were
cut at the expense of the gambler's
plight. Tbe boat was soon brought to
the shore, and he was unceremoniously
landed. I did not expect ever to see
his coarse, depraved face again; but it
was with me as it ever is—"man pro
poses, God disposes."
The ever-changing scenes of tho
great river interested ine, and I could
have studied for days the varying
phases of human nature about me; but
as current and stream bore us rapidly
down, the object of my journey pressed
upon my thoughts, and it was with
eager alacrity that 1 stepped ashore at
Donaldsonville, at the head of Bayou
La. Fourche. With a few others and
with my small luggage I was trans
ferred to a small steamer, and the last
few miles of my journey we followed
the course of tbe bayou.
For the first time I was in that land
of wonders, lower Louisiana. I was
floating on one of the multitude of
streams, which,, more than one hun
dred miles above the Delta of the
Mississippi, help to carry off the great
pressure of waters to the gulf. Other
rivers receive tributaries to swell their
flood; ns the mighty Father of Waters
approaches salt water he is compelled
to send off other rivers to relieve him
self. I was in a region entirely allu
vial, a land doubtless manufactured,
as might be said, by the continual de
posit of soil brought down by the tire
less water giant and thrust out into
the gulf. As the poet Longfellow
finely says of this strange phenom
"Seizes the hills In his hands ar.d drags them
down to the ocean."
I was in that region which is actu
ally at most seasons below the level of
the streams, where great levees or
banks are built upon each side to con
fine the water to its own bed. Upon
the summit of these levees, high abovo
our heads as we steamed along, we saw
negro inon and womeu walking, carry
ing immense bundles aud even jars
full of water upon the bare crown,with
out a touch of the hand. At times tho
bends of the bayou enabled us to look
beyond the levees over a section of th#
country and see vast plantations green
with the miniature forests of the
sugar-cane. It is here, in this rich,
black soil, that the most prolific sugar
country in North America is found. The
population was almost evenly divided
between white and black; the larger
part of the former was of French de
scent; the French language was much
spoken, and French names of persons
and places were the most common.
To me this was all new and strange,
and I was asking many questions
about these strange features of the
land when the boat stopped and the
captain announced "Bostock's." I
was the sole passenger landed here.
Engaging a lusty and lazy negro to
carry my trunk and show me the way,
I took the last steps of my journey
with throbbing heart. All that Mr.
Dorion had related, all that he had put
into his warnings, recurred to me. I
stopped. I shrank from the test that I
had come two tiiou and miles to make.
"Dar am de house, tnaussa," said my
It was a large frame house with
verandas above and below. It stood
not two hundred yards back from the
bayou. Stately oaks, beautiful mag
nolias were before and around it,
through which were seen glimpses of
wide plantation lands.
The day was hot. the sun oppressive.
As I advanced toward the house I saw
a man seated in the shade, while an
other was speaking earnestly and with
much gesticulation to him. I stopped,
fearful of intruding, but 1 was already
"A lazy, idle, sulky nigger, sir, I tell
you: He don't earn his salt. I'd have
whaled him long ago if you hadn't for
bidden me; and I must tell you, sir. if
he ain't to be whipped, he'd better be
sold. Mayn't I send him over to New
The answer was inaudible.
"Yes, sir, I know you don't like it;
yonvineed it's the only way.to
manatre- Well, tben —if here ain't the
lazy devil right here now! The sassy
dog: Look lu re, you Jeremiah! Didn't
I tell you to keep to the cane-hoeing
all day? Where you been?"
My attendant, balancing mj trunk
upon his head, and spreading out his
hands in a deprecating way, replied:
"O! so yo' did. Mans a Le Feere. an'
I meant to stay—'deed I did: —but I
hear de boat a-comin' down de bayou,
MY ATTENDANT BALANCED THE TRUNK
ON HIS HEAD,
an' I went down to see urn, an' I'm
lie put down the burden, and not
waiting for the silver piece that I
wished to give him he made a quick
movement in the direction of the fields.
The overseer abruptly withdrew.
The man who was seated had his
back to me, but by the looks of the
overseer he must have known that
there was somebody beside the truant
negro behind him. He rose and turned
round. It was a thin, bent figure, in a
flowered dressing-gown and slippers.
His hair presented that singular ap
pearance caused by turning white in
patches and streaks. His face was
hollow and wrinkled; his eyes were
With the most apathetic expression
he looked at me. and seemed to think
that my appearance did not call for
question or remark. At least he made
"I beg your pardon, sir." I said. "Is
Mr. Pierce Bostock at home? Can I see
"The overseer attends to all busi
ness," he said, peevishly. "Go to him;
there he goes."
"I have no business that he can at
tend to. I must see Mr. Bostock per
"Must you, indeed?" He began to
rouse a little at the word, and show
irritation. "Where do you eome from,
anyway, young man. that you think a
La Fourelie planter can be made to at
tend in person at the beck and call of
every interloper who fancies he has
business with him? What—"
His own talk, delivered in a feeble,
broken voice, excited him and brought
on a fit of coughing. He stamped with
vexation, and sat down on a bamboo
settee through sheer weakness.
"I am Pierce Bostock." he said, when
lie could find voice again. "What the
devil do you want?"
I ought to have expected this an
nouncement. and to have been prepared
for it; but I felt very much at that in
stant as though 1 had been following
a chimera. To be exact, I felt cold and
sick, and the hopes of long years van
ished as a puff of smoke. And yet it
seemed incredible. This Mr. Bostock
—this the hearty, ruddy, happy planter
who bad crossed our stony New Hamp
shire fields ten years before, and
pushed out my horizon everywhere—
this feeble, testy, drooping invalid?
My hopes were all turned to ashes on
the spot; yet I resolved to speak out,
and end the farce. Ile would not recog
nize me, or would bid me begone if he
should. No matter—l would see which
he would do, and then tear this cruel
leaf out of the book of my life, and
turn to other scenes.
"Well —are you dumb? What do you
say for yourself?"
"Mr. Bostock, lam Dorr Jewett. Do
you not know me?"
A very faint appearance of interest
came to his face.
"Jewett?" he repeated. "I believe I
used to hear that name. Why, yes;
Amos Jewett was my schoolfe'low
when I was a boy. Dorr —Dorr? That
was my father's name."
I saw that his mind was groping for
memory, antl I waited.
He motioned me to sit down with
him. He looked at me, but was silent.
"Amos Jewett was my father," I
ventured. "Don't you remember com
ing to our poor New Hampshire home
ten years ago, sir? Don't you remem
ber how kind you were to us? I was
the boy you took so much notice of."
He heard me, and the mists seemed
dispelled from his brain as by magic.
A look of surprised intelligence came
to his face.
••You Dorr Jewett? little Dorr?
Bless ine, IKHV you liav« grown! I'm
not often glad to see anyone but my
child, in these days; but I am glad to
see you. Is your father well?"
"Why, he died, sir, more than a year
ago. I wrote to you about it."
"I never read letters now —nor pa
pers —nor books. Not now. \etldo
remember a nice letter you wrote ine
once, years ago, before —"
The change that came over that woe
ful face terrified me. It was literally
black with rage, with fury, called up
by his own speech.
"Yes, sir." I hastened to say, "and
you answered it so kindly."
"Did I? That is well; 1 atn glad to
hear it. So you've come to look up a
wretched and lonely old man like me,
have you, because I was kind to you?
Do you know, my boy, 1 don't think
there's another man in Louisiana, or
out of it, could soften me tho way you
have. I'm going to have you flay here,
now you've come. Oh, yes, I do re
member now all about the time I went
to Boston, and back xunong the hills
where I was born, and how I found
you and poor Amos out in the fields,
and ate your good mother's mush and
Ilis face seemed recreated. It ac
tually wore a gentle smile.
"But it was long ago, and life has
been hard and cruel with me sluce,and
I had forgotten all these pleasant
things. Why, boy, it seems to me as if
you'd come to me from another world."
lie took ray hand in his own thin
"You'll stay with me, Dorr Jewett,
I believe the tears came to my eyes |
at the question. It was asked in a j
voice which was the ghost of that J
hearty, resonant tone that had long j
sounded in my dreams. I told him |
that I would stay awhile.
"Always, Dorr; I want you with me. |
I remember, now. I asked you long |
ago to come. lam rich, my boy; I've
got money, and plantations, and slaves;
but I haven't any friends. Well, who j
would I be kind to, if it wasn't to
Amos Jewett and his boy"? Ol Amos
was my chum; he d wrestle with mo
anil throw me; but he'd fight any boy
that tried to put upon me. I want
somebody to talk to; my girl can't al
ways be with me. Le Fevrc is a good
fellow, but he's never happy unless,
he's driving the niggers round. He
shall show you the plantation when
you've rested to-morrow—yes, that
will be time enough. \\ hen you want
to go to New Orleans he shall go with
you; I never stir off the place. You'll
see how the cane grows—the old cane ,
and the new cane. Le Fevre says he s j
got more than a hundred acres now i
planted. Ue'll show the sugar
mill, and maybe he cau figure up what
the crop will be this year. Good black
soil this, Dgrr. This is better than
planting corn in the cracks of the
rocks up north, eh? No. you won't
talk about going away. Dorr Jewett."
So he rambled on. a wreck of mind
as well as body, continually striving
to struggle out of the gloom in which
he was involved, and to reach back
ward to familiar faces and scenes.
A burst of melody shook the air: a
clear, pure voice, singing a merry
French song. Mr. Ilostock raised his
head, and a new intelligence gave mo
mentary luster to his eyes.
"Ah. that's Cornlie!" he said. "Yon
shall see Coralie. Here she comes."
|TO BE COSTISUXO-]
DEVELOP THE YEARLINGS.
How It Can lie Hone Without injury to
the Vonng Animal*.
To leave the colt alone or to only
halter break him until he is three or
four years old is a serious mistake
which many make. The time, expense
and trouble of breaking these mature
animals, as well as the danger incurred,
are convincing breeders every year that
the wisest and best way for all classes
of horses, whether for speed or family
use, is to begin training them at six
months old or younger. I recently saw
a choice filly when six months old
thoroughly broken to drive siugle or
double, and that appeared perfectly at
home in every situation in which 1 saw
her placed. The question is asked,
how develop these young colts without
Nothing is more natural than for the
sucker to run beside his dam. Of
course the young animal must not be
given too much exercise, but he should
be early accustomed to a light harness
which may be made of an old harness,
or even of tarred rope that is well
dried. After adjusting it carefully fol
lowing the colt's thorough acquaintance
with it, ho should first be allowed to
run loose, as with colts generally. A
day or two later a thoroughly halter
broken colt should be tied loosely to tne
end of the shaft of his dam. Sti.l later
a strong light line should be fastened to
the outside bit, run through the turret
ring to the driver's hand, and the colt
gently guided at the same time his ma
ture mate has the lines pulled. In this
way the youngster will become accus
tomed to all sights and sounds and at
the age of six to eight months will
make no objection to going between
the shafts alone.
His young muscles can also be gradu
ally developed for considerable speed
while he is not drawing a pound, and
his action improved from day to day by
the careful oversight of a discreet
owner or driver, who should always re
member that a young animal is easily
fatigued. After a short trot in the
morning he can be left to rest and
given his dinner, after which he can be
driven a short distance in the after
noon, the mare being driven all day if
necessary. To prevent contact with
the wheel have the blacksmith drill the
I fV A
nut of the axle aud wagon wrench
which fits it, and pin both together
with a piece of malleable iron. After
turning on the nut, bind the wrench
firmly to a snooth hickory pole with
tarred rope. This pole must be l»w«l
just right, and extend to the end of the
shaft, where it is firmlv bolted. (See
cut.) If the little greeny should crowd
the wheel on first starting out, this
pole will keep him away from it, and
he will soon learn to trot clear of both.
The value of the contrivance will be
readily seen. The youngster is thor
oughly trained while going on short
errands beside his driver and never
needs breaking.—Farm and Home.
PIG PEN POINTERS.
HUSK yourcorn for the hops when
the hogs quit chewing the stalks.
YOL'R sows are not liable to become
cannibals if you feed them properly.
A LITTLE experimenting in hog feed
ing will not cost much. It may be
worth a good deal to you.
THE man who has put his trust in
hogs fcr the past twelve months has
not had cause to regret it.
IT will soon bo time for butchers to
use a few hogs each week. This will
help the demand for roughs.
GIVE the runts of the litter particu
lar attention. They will make good
hogs if they live long enough.
Do vou know what the hogs are cost
ing you that you raise? This i:i a ques
tion that you ought to figure on.
A SQUEALING pig never svts fat, is as
true as the old proverb about the bat k
iug dog. Xo matter whether he squeals
from hunger or from sheer perversity,
as some seem to do after they have been
well fed, if he eats enough to gain his
two pounds a day he will squeal away
one-half of it. Beware of buying such
or breeding from such. They are un
profitable and as uncomfortable to get
along with as a grumbling farm hand.
fcilieep anil I log* on thn Farin.
In answer to an inquiry as to how
many hogs and sheep can be kept on a
farm of 150 acres, the Ohio Faamcr
says: An acre of good pasture will keep
five to ten sheep the summer through,
depending upon the season and kind of
sheep. Stephen Powers says he has
kept twenty-three sheep in good con
dition on three acres, nearly all sum
mer. You will need two pounds of hay
per day and say a pound of grain, per
head, for winter. From these data,
and taking into consideration the ca
pacity of the land to produce grain, the
area in orchixrd, woodland, etc., and
the amount of other stock kept, you
can estimate pretty closely how many
sheep you can keep. On liOacrcs, with
SO acres plowed, 'JO acres in wooeland,
6 acres for buildin;Ts, garden. etc.,
keeping 'i horses, 3 or 4 cows, and rais
ing a litter or two of pigs, 100 large
sheep or 100 Merinos are enough.
lHdn't It.-IU-vr In Shootinr-
H C _ Wonderful score t hat of Henry's!
Why, he hit the bull r s-eye nine times in
She—Yes! but just think of tlx-suf
fering of that poor bull Men :ire so
cruel! —lsoston <*lobc.
On the Other SUIR.
Mrs. Henry l'ock (looking up frotn
her paper)—Ah! •well, |>oor Hyson is
rid of his trouble ctnd misery at last.
Mr. Henry Peck t'ju astonishment)
Why, I didn't know* his wife "*HS sjjlt.
\V hen did she die?— Tuck.
Couldn't say JX-flnlWI).
'MXhJ'OU take tJiit* for better or
wo|>c?" asked the minister.
"I tell until I Jiave had him a
little? while, Upturned the bijde.—liar
THE AMERICAN FARMER.
Why Ills Putoro look* More rromUlnf
Than Crer ISefore.
At no time in the history of the coun
try has the future of agriculture been
more promising. There was a time,not
long ago, when the soil and the farmer
were not on friendly terms, when there
was a conflict between them. But that
time is pa.st, or is passing with the pro
He has learned, is learning every day,
that the fault was with him and not
the laud. Thosoil, lacking certain in
gredients, could not produce good re
sults. The horse cannot be expected
to work at the plow all day, many days,
if fed only on dry hay.
To-day the farmer is coaxing his land
very much as he does his stock, or ho ia
providing food for his plants with al
most as much care as he feeds his ani
mals, if he expects to be successful.
The farmer tests his land for himself;
he does not wait for the chemist, or
prefers to be his own chemist in his
way If potash, nitrogen or phosphoric
acid are wanted, he adds them, and he
has come to the stage of independence
when he mixes his own fertilizers, and
knows exactly with what he has to
work. That's progress. Commercial
fertilizers are the farmers' aids, but the
government analysis and inspection
has opened his eyes, and he sees now
that he may prepare his own fertilizers
and save money.
The farmer no longer pLants haphaz
ard; he has begun to see that agricul
ture is an art, a science more intricate
than any other; that to be successful in
its prosecution ho must know several
sciences. No longer does ho merely
drop a potato in the earth, cover it up,
keep down the weeds and dig the in
crease in the falL He studies the soil
and the fertilizer and then the potato.
Shall he plant large or small potatoes,
cut or uncut, one eye or more, the stem
end or the seed end?
Thus throughout the range of agri
culture every step is thought out and
practically made in advance. There are
muny croakers about agriculture, some
editorial croakers in newspaper offices
who, possibly, might be able to tell a
hay-cutter from a grindstone, who rise
up periodically to say with a loud voice
(more or less, according to their circu
lation) that agriculture has a black
eye; that it is limping along on one leg,
and not a very strong leg at that, and
that the whole fabric of agriculture,
like the sheep, is going to the dogs.
If these croakers had attended some
of the "winter meetings" that have
been held in the different states last
winter and seen the interest and enthu
siasm, seen the men—aye, the women,
too, assembled and spent two or three
days in asking each other questions and
comparing notes, the agricultural pessi
mist would admit, if honest, that there
is a force l>ehind agriculture that will
not let it stand still. Let every farmer
keep his shoulder to the wheel. It
turns easier than it did, and does not
have to be helped out of so many ruts
and quagmires as it did. Let erery
farmer be proud of his calling, stick to
it, dignify it and swear by it (not pro
Why, it is not long ago when the
farmer at gatherings of any kind took
a back seat; it was rare to see a farmer
on the platform. All the speecnes were
made by the lawyer, the clergyman
and the "good talker" of no calling or
profession. That has changed. The
farmer got nearer and nearer to the
platform, and now, forsooth, he is on
it and doing the talking, and taking no
odds of anj' man. This is not idle talK;
it is fact Agriculture is alive.—George
Applcton, in Farm and Fireside.
CHEAP HUSKING PIN.
If Von Don't Want to Buy One, Male®
One at llome.
To make a homemade pin for corn
husking take a piece of common thin
leather and cut into a strip four inches
long, one-half inch wide, and in each
end cut a hole. Take a piece of hard
wood the size of a pencil, and cut a
groove near the end. Cut ,another half
way between the middle and the point
end of the pin. Put the leather over
the second finger between the knuckle
and first joint and hold the ends be
tween the tirst and second and second
and third lingers. Slip the pin through
the holes cut in the leather so the
point will pass beyond the first finger.
The tension of the leather, if it is
tough and does not split, will hold the
pin iu place. A strong husking piu
may be bought for thirty cents, with
curved end and point and held in place
by a leather cushion adjusted round
the finger and riveted on an iron pin.
These are easy to handle and a great
improvement on any pin I have ever
seen. A number of different styles are
on the market, hut any one of them is
good if substantially made. —Farm and
What farmers .Must I-earc.
Until the farmers, as a class, learn
that for every dollar spent in real road
improvement they will receive a ten
fold return in the advanced price of
their acres, iu ability to market their
products at all seasons, and iu the in
numerable advantages that come from
easy transit and frequent communica
tion between farms and villages, there
is not a flattering prospect for the issue
of Ikjdc'.s for scientific and permanent
road improvement. Such instruction
must come from rural centers. The
farmers seem to be suspicious of sug
gestions coming from the cities. Mean
while, the importance of the road ques
tion cannot be overestimated, nor very
much longer suppressed. The com
munities that have made good roads
arc preeminently the prosperous com
munities; the light shining from them
must, sooner or later, illuminate the
darker regions in which bad roads pre
vail —Chicago Inter Ocean.
Cholly (seeking to be friendly)—
Wather cloudy to-day, isn't it?
Her Father (gruffly)— Great Caesar,
young man! haven't you got sense
enough to know whether it is or not
without asking?— Judge.
I fi f j n ? &-
I -.-3 4 1
juu j u
The cigarett ■ and the dude.—Judge.
Preliminary lnfurmit too.
Fond Father—ln giving you my
daughter, Mr. Wilhvcd, 1 pass into
your keeping the dearest thing I have
Mr. Willwed (anxiously)— How much
does she cost you a year, may 1 ask? —
Town T<afe>. . _. _