n our ere is Uncle it will a spo ercala,. South 5 were ening tracks. » done €evils,. action. potato f the ts in > Gua- he in- gran- came he po- wn to ein to The ry 13 palan ‘pretiy 5s. Who rid of 1ethod. ervous- oken ol 2 hird . 6, 1000, l, uhex-— 3 n Pur- certain t fifty- 510 out 0s An- na has estab- aching )¢ con- vard for ured by eve him TANsac- out any stg, To- holesale lly, act- ous sur- ni free, ugrists, ination. scalper in the uiently clergy- ar, cagure- of pho- ixed as g crim- in the ie hun- w#¥Y ork ry ycar 1 called height, body khones, e meas- together of the B, otc, the ex- tion of ; record that he any fu- ‘ge size in the ill scom DIE. Springs, - Doan’s t. Uraln . Presi rites: suffered e years severe ie. The rs told kidneys affected sseribed 8 for 1 found yas ouly of time ney to my, and to fear would et well n’s Kid- I begao ter that atment, ver two Ive NOW more can but rice 50 lo, N. Y. RAR A, a HO ToL a Ye ae To Whiten Linéns; Laces and linens which have yellow with age or greatly soiled ¢an be whitenell by folding them careful: ly and placing them in the sun to soak become in a strong solution of borax and water, says The Philadelphia Inquirer. As the water is absorbed or clouded, 2a add fresh water,’ and, if thé ‘water be: comes quite cloudy from the loosened dirt, pour in a new solution of borax and water. Turn the lace or linen at least once while it is whitening. “In the warm weather the yellow i8 easily removed, though the soaking may con- tinue two of three days and nights without injuring ‘the most delicate fabrics. Care should be taken, how- ever, in removing the lace, when once it is clean.. It should be taken out, folded, not squeezed, but unfolded carefully on folded towels, pinned out neatly and left in the sun to dry. 1f the lace sticks to the bowl let it soak off; don’t try ‘to pull it away. Dainty Muslins. Out of the very pretty muslins a very dainty and becoming frock may be fashioned, for a young girl. The skirt may be cut into two a gored top. Have the bottom finish of the flounce three-inch wide tucks. Give the same finish to the bottom of the top section. It will hide the sewing on of the flounce. Gather in three rows the top fullness of the skirt, be- ginning at a short distance from the middle. Have the bodice full back and front into a narrow square. Fill in with. a white Swiss chemisette, criss-crossed over with lace beading, run through wide ribbon matching the figure of the muslin.” Have full elbow slee 70s, with a ruffle to match, trim- ming with three rows of ribbon bead- ing. On the edge of the ruffle sew a two-inch Valenciennes lace with a slight fullness. Belt the waist ‘with a ribbon to match in color, and make a hair how of the same. The result will be charming and in- expensively achieved. To Keep Gloves and Veils. The best place to keep gloves and veils is a shallow drawer devoted en- ‘tirely ‘to those articles, and fitted with sachets. Inexpensive sachets may be made of fine cheesecloth or figured silkoline and the powder sprinkled between two layers of cotton. Sandal- wood—the pure ground wood that may be purchased at a Japanese store—is one of the most lasting. Two such sheets may be made, eich the size of the drawer and each hav- ing strips of narrow ribbon going across from side to side, caught at ‘in- tervals to the sachet. Under these ribbons the veils and gloves mav be’ slipped and held gently but firmly in place. The lower sachet should be used for the veils and gloves used compara- tively seldom, and the upper sachet devoted to walking and driving gloves and heavy chiffon veils. Of course, if the drawer is deep, any number of shallow sachets may be made, and one for stocks and ties is useful in keeping them from being mussed.— Indianapolis News. When Weary. When we are kept awake from our fatigue, the first thing to do is to say over to ourselves that we do not care whether we sleep or not, in order to imbue ourselves with a healthy in- difference about it. It will help tow- ard gaining this wholesome indiffer- ence to say: “I am too tired to sleep, and, therefore, the first thing for me to do is to get rested in order to pre- pare for sleep. When my brain is well rested it will go to sleep; it can- not help it. When it is well rested it will sleep just as naturally as my lungs breathe, or as my heart beats.” Another thing to remember, and it is very important—is that an over-tired brain needs more than the usual nour- ishment. If you have been awake for an hour, and it is three hours after your last meal, take half a cup or a cup of milk. If you are awake for another two hours, take half a cup more, and so, at intervals of about two hours, so long as you are awake throughout the night. Hot milk is nourishing and a sedative. It is not inconvenient to have milk by the side of one’s bed and a little saucepan and a spirit lamp. An Unconscious Courtesy. In the enjoyable “Joy of Living” pa- pars appearing in the Delineator, Lil- lie Hamilton French, in the September number, writes on unconscious expres- sion in childhood, and speaking of the necesrity of implanting precepts of courtesy and hospitality while the chiid is young, gives this apt and amusing illustration: “There is an old story told of a lady of rank who mar- riei her footman She managed to train him into the se:nblance of a gen- tleman, and his appearance in the drawing-room was not bad. He be- haved well, and with propriety—ex- cept when he heard a bell ring! Then ho started. To jump when t rung had been a second mature with him as a footman. It is always the training in- early and impressionable 'years that makes the second nature of ‘the mature.. The full-grown man or woman can, of course, begin a self- training, as this lady of rank began a training of her husband. The task is more difficult. Even the eells of the brain get into: ways of responding to certain impressions, and although a thought held to will transform the no need of a transformation in our manners. They should be formed in the early, plant, receptive days of childhood.” A Woman's Influence Over Man. The woman who talks most about a woman’s influence generally doesn’t have any influence. The kind that counts works silently. It is not herald- ed with trumpets nor clapped with ap- plause. For this reason a woman is a little shy of even considering such a sub- ject as her influence over men. So far from boasting of it even in her thought, she will barely asknowledge it to herself. That is all right—just the way a nice, modest woman should feel about it. Nevertheless, there can be no harm in asserting the fact—just among women, though—that a woman can influence a man very potently, if she goes about it in the right way. For the right woman man will do almost anything. He has been doing when Solomon fell to worshipping the gods of his wives, and when Herod sacrificed John the Baptist to his pret- ty niece. He has been known to climb ing under a woman’s influence, and he has been dashed from high places to the darkest depths by reason of that same mysterious magic. It must please any woman to hear the story of Owen Kildare, a Bowery tough, who at 30 could neither read nor write and was proud of his slum reputation as the toughest of sluggers, Now at 40 he is writing for magazines and working to better the condition of just such people as those from whose ranks he was lifted. And how was he lifted? voice called him. A woman came into his life of utter degradation. She gave the best she eould to aid him. She led; he fol- lowed. For years he was pupil and she was teacher. And then she died. and it was then that her influence was most powerful. Realizing what she had done for him, he set himself to follow the windings of the path she had outlined. The path led to reform, tmanliness, strength and usefulness. Only 10 years between his ignorant, A woman’s ing life of an author and philanthropi- cal worker. Scoff as the unsentimental may, all this was accomplished by a noble woman’s influence. humble to have a responsibility like that in her hands. Her words, her glances, her smiles, her actions,” her beauty, her whole character, can work for a man’s help or for his harm. She needn't speak of it, nor think much about it. Yet silently and in a large, sweet way her influence is work- ing.—Philadelphia Bulletin. Fashion Notes. ‘Wooltex skirt and coat suits are the first fall costumes. A touch of orange velvet marks the newest long silk coats. Pockets, and many of them, are ap- pearing in the fall coats. Pompadour wreaths catch up the folds of the dancing girl's frocks. Featherboning is a most important reature of the summer wardrobe. Long, loose separate’'coats are quite the most picturesque item of the sea- son. A dainty mauve and white check is among the eighteen-cent linen suit- ings. That lavender linen you have been sighing for is among the -cut-price gowns. Paris is wearing a great deal of red, finished off with red hose and shiny black shoes. Beware of a too flat hat bargain, if it’s to do for next year. Crowns are getting higher. Instead of being metal bound the eyelets of this year’s low shoes are worked in silk. If you don’t know how to blend color tones in ycur toilette you may as well step out of the race. Somebody needs to invent a little glass case for our hands when we go abroad in white gloves. Many of the simple little silk dress- es owe their charm to undersleeves and chemisette of lace. Just now the pursuit of happiness resolves itself into getting a splendid collection of shirt waist suits at half > | price. very nature of man, there ought to be: it for centuries, long before the time. from the lowest depths to a high call: dissipated life and the bright, promis- | It ought to make a woman mighty. proud and at the same time mighty- 7A SERMON FOR SUNDAY, A STRONG DISCOURSE ENTITLED, “COMECRTING CERTAINTIES.” The Rev. Dr. Robert Bruce Hull’s Talk on the Words Addressed to Nicodemus —The Pérson’ That the Verities AE Our Precious Faith Cluster About. BROOKE IV g No. ¥.—Sunday morning the Rev. Dr. tobert Bruce Hull, pastor of Gregriweod ~ Baptiss ‘€hures, ren velied” on “Comforting Coctat ges.” The text was from John Gil “We speak thit we do know.’ sermon: These words were addressed to Nicode- mus. “He was an earnest. honest, yet timid inquirer after truth. He had come to Jesus under cover of the darkness. As an official of the Jewish Sanhedvim, he did not dare to be séen talking with the Naza- rene Teacher. Yet he is convinced in. his own, mind that that, too, a prophet sent of God. This much he confesses to the Christ. Then be- gins the wonderfully instructive interview rom which the text is taken. This inters view is evidently only an outline, but the outline is marvelously suggestive. Nico- demus was a good man. He wasa religious man. Ile conformed to all the religious: forms and ceremonies of his nation. His outward. deportment was blameless and his standing in the community was haonor- able. But he was not a spiritual man. ' He was not what we would call to-day a con- verted man. To him Jesus thrice used the eo double “Amen, amen, I say unto . Du. Hull said. in the course. of- his Nicodemus. could not understand what Jesus meant by being born again. He was unable to see what that new spiritual life was of which he himself was lacking. Then it is that the third double amen of Jesus introduces the words of the text: “Verily, verily, I say unto thee, we speak that we do know and testify that we have seen.’ In this utterance Jesus uses the w a “we,” not simply as the plural of majesty, but ‘connecting Himself with all His disci- ples, so that it is perfectly proper and right for us to-day to use His words and say: “We speak that we do know.” Chris- tians are competent witnesses to the cer- tainties of religion. While in a sense 3 may be said th it “the Bible and the Bi alone is the religion of Protestants,” vet 4 the fuller sense our religion is a life. Chyist is Christianity. His life in Himself and in His disciples is the spirit and the power of true religion. We have something more than opinion; something better than creeds; we have as one of the eternal veri- t as the manifestation of ties Jesus Chr Fod. It has been well said that “Christ either deceived mankind by conscious fraud or He was Himself deluded and de- ceived, or He was divine. There is no get- ting out of this trilemma. It is inexor- able.” He stood before the men who knew Him best and said: “He that hath seen Me hath seen the Father. ”” and again deciared to them: “I and My Father-are one.” This was tremendous sumption and_ awful blasphemy if it was not the truth. That it is the truth the course of time and the Snurse of Christianity both abundantly de- clare The verities of our precious faith cluster about a person. This person was God, manifest in the flesh, and for all the ecen- turies since Bethiehem the noblest, wisest and holiest have bowed before Him, oo er- ently exclaiming, “My Lord and my God!” It matters not from what point we view Him, Jesus stands before the world as more than wan. It is said of a safe and perfect arch that it must meet two require- ments. Its feet must not slip and its mid- dle must not bend. Jesus Christ is the arch connecting humanity and divinity. The weight of the centuries of Christianity rest on that arch and they rest there safely, for “Jesus is (God; there never was a time when He was not; Boundless. eternal, merciful, the Sire begot ; Backward our thoughts through ages stretch, onward through realms of bliss, For there are two, eternities and both alike are His.” Another of the certainties is that the Christian life is a divine life. is was a new thought to Nicodemus. It is a new thought to many to-day. Tt was not a figure of speech, but a plain statement of fact, when Jesus insisted that it was neces- sary to be born again in .order to enter heaven. Those of Nicodemus’ time would have said it was necessary to reform, to deal honestly, to behave kindly, to live up- wvightly. So many say to-day, and if by all this they mean uprightness in its perfect form they are right. But no man has ever lived who .as been thus upright. “All have sinned and come short of the glory of God.” The history of mankind shows that we must not seek holiness in order to God, but God in order to holiness. Christ must come into the soul of man with His divine life, and then. and not till then, are we in harmony avith the divine holiness. When that life comes in then there is ‘manifested the “expulsive power of a new affection,” better still, the expulsive power of a new life. Nothing less than life can account for the change in men. Nothing but life can exert the power which the cen- turies of Christianity have manifested. In physics we affirm confidently that every ef- fect must have an adequate cause. This also is true in the realm of spirituality. If persecutors are changed into preachers, if those once thoroughly depraved have been molded into recognized saints, if the dregs of society have been transformed into un- paralleled martyrs for the truth, if common people have been fashioned into those of whom the werld was not worthy—we ask what cause or what power is adequate for such marvelous alterations. Ve know these changes. It is folly to say we do not know the power. Twice each day our city is washed by a mighty ebb and flow of tides t} in and out, despite all the winds Your child recognizes the fact, puzzled to thir nk that the pale, « serene amid the clouds, is the us those resistless floods. The child is puz- zled, but when your philosopher explains to you that the moon does this by attrac- tion of gravitation, and vou ask him to ex- plain to you this attraction of gravitation, then he, too, is puzzled. Yet t he knews the power, knows it so well he wre it and use it. So, too, with Ch nity, and its power. We can reco its force and use it, but its secret is e secret of Like all force, in its origin it is a mystery, Tennyson sa “We have but faith we cannot know, For knowledge is of things we see.” This is not quite true. Knowliedze is of things we feel, as well as of things we see. Many things we know that we cannot see. We never saw a pain, but we should call him a fool who should say we never felt or knew a pain. We know the power of the Christ life in the believer, because we have felt it, and sometimes w hen this Christ life in us has its perfect freedom we are able to say with Paul: “I can do all things in Christ who stren neth me.’ This certainty concerning the power of the Christ life can be attained by all who will fulfill the conditions. There must be a surrender to Christ and a trust in Christ. You cannot have the sunbeam without the sun. You cannot have the power of Christ without the Christ Himself. The apostle says: “Christ is in you the hope of glory and it is certainly true that Christ must be in us the power for glory. Thus the centre of our certitude is Christ HY We know Hi 1. We know His powe It 1 ad upon us and in us. Like 1d beggar, we exclaim: “One I Ge whereas, 1 was blind, now 1 There was no note of uncertainty there should be no note of un- it our utteranc concerning our own position the word, swee that bi but he 1 Jesus is a prophet .and | °S concerning | ‘Butiif' this age of doubt many Christians .are £0 frightened out of sanity that they -are “afraid to say even of the deepest ex- eriences of the soul, “I know.” Not so aul, facing death: “f I'now whom I have believed ” Not so John, thé beloved dis- e, declaring, “We know that we have assed from ‘death unto life. We know that when Tie shall appear we shall be like Him.” It is not modesty, but lack of faith which prempts Yinistinns to, say, “I hepa I am a Christian.” When we have life we know it and should not be ashamed to say so. Ife. have not thedife then by all the importance of eternity make sure of ob- taining it. It ‘is possible: to? have a living experience of Jesus Christ. 0 © we may say: vet not I, but int, live lief may be glorified into th “we yield ourselves eompletely and unre- served y to Him who is able to “keep that Fe ¥ have’ committed to Him against “75 ive, yin me. >. Be- -xperience if ect of this certainty is.in, every ; precious and helpful. Consider for a ribmient what this certitude means in the presence of the awful calamity which last _ summer sent a thrill of horror around tue glo True, indeed, 1s the Scripture de “if in this life only we have one in Christ we are of all men most miserable. * if death were the end of all then we might ell believe that cruelty sat in the throne of the universe. But, staggered as all are by the unutterable sor- row, vet ‘God rules’ and overrules. and though we cannot see it now, yet in eter- nity we shall know that the carelessness— or worse—of man has been overruled to eternal good. Becanse we know that God is love, and because we know Jesus still lives and is the same to-day as when He shed tears at the grave of Lazarus, we dare to go into bereaved homes the reunion at the right hard of the throne of God. I went over to the piér where lay hundreds of the unclaimed bodies, and would not have dared to do it, but that 1 might ‘comfort some heartbroken one ith the assurance that God cared, God loved and in eternity God would make this un- speakable sadness a source of perpetual joy. Can I explain it? No! But I could not preach, I could not hold up my head as a Christian if I did not believe; vea, if I did not know, that somehow, some time, the curse shall be changed into a blessing. This is the vnrivilege of Christians to say even now: “We know that all things wor k together for zood to them that love God.” Why is it that all do not know these things? Partly because of their condition. There are to-day those who “having eves sce not, and having ears hear not.” The influence of training is not easily overcome. Trained only to consider as real that which can be analyzed by scientific implements, men refuse ro admit’ the reality of things which they cannot weigh in their scales or measure by their rules. They are honest. So is the blind man honest who says color does mot exist. So is the deaf man honest whose soul cannot be moved by the concord of sweet sounds. It is not a ques- tion of honesty, but of fact. God is, even though the unbelieving eye may sweep the heavens with the telescope and assert I cannot see God. But trusting hearts will say with ‘ever increasing certitude: “1 know whom I believe.” This gives us com- fort in such a time as this. It is the only thing which can give comfort. So, breth- ren, let us place ourselves in the ind of a loving God. Tet us lean on the divine power. Let us trust the divine wisdom. Let us assure ourselves of the divine home in those mansions which divine love has prepared for us, and let us be confident that “Trial works for ends Too high for some to trace— That oft in dark attire He sends Some embassy of grace. Love as a Cosmetic, T.ove is the greatest beautifier. The rea- -son is easy to see. Love itself is beautiful, and if we give unselfish love a lodgment with us it is constantly exerting a mc olding influence upon’ us. ; Love always appears at its best. Wien it goes wooing it always chooses the most becoming attire and the most captiv ating adornment. So love, when it gets posses sion of a human body. proceeds to rot the face of that body into the most at- tractive form, for love always seeks to clothe itself in the most attractive garb. hat is the explanation of the transfor- mation that takes place in a woman who is “a mother. She may be plain otherwise, but when she bends over her babe in an ecstasy of mother-love she becomes beauti- ful. And in proportion as we give place to unselfish love do we become attractive. There. is no masseur like love to work miracles in a homely face, says the Chris: tian Endéavor World. There is no facial specialist who can begin to do as much to make. a plain young man or woman at- tractive, to overcome deformity or hide blemishes as the magician love can do. To hate is to become hateful. To love as hrist loved is to become lovely. Tt is nog a cheap recipe, for such love costs in pros portion to its depth and intensity. But one thos is willing to pay the price may be beautiful. Boastful Building. “Blow. O winds! Rise, O ocean! Break forth, elements and try my worl!” Such 8 the boastful inscription put upon the first Eddystone lighthouse built by the ectentric Winstanley. challenge wad accepted. and one fearful night the sea swallowed up the tower and its builder. The next one met a similar fate, the structure and its builder, Rudyard, again her. erected by Smeaton. who be rt all of stone, making it a part of its rock foundation, so that the li ghthe use penetrates it as a tree penetrates t 1 n this lighthouse »o vaunting ions were p Jlaced, but on the low were chiseled the words: L ord build the house, they hat build it,” and on the ke the lantern, is the excla Deo! That structure > ng beacon light et vain “He who would build for eternity must not set about his task in any vaing: orio 1s, over-conf y as to his foundation, leeply upon the roc k, ng in trust and who alone can enable o 1t.— Wellspring fect resu Grace to Bear. When Christ does not take hing that is hard for us to bear, H ce to keep it and to get on ev en “bet- than if He had relieved us of it. To Pau! He said: “My grace is thee.” That is. Panl would rece from Christ, Christ's own strength in i life. enough of it to meet all his need, that the Suffering would be overbal a by the grace, and the hindrance overcome by the divine strength imparted. This promise is for every ‘Christian who has a thorn of any kind which Christ does not remove. While we must keep it we shall be helped to bear it, ard it will be as though we did not have it.—Forward. 1dols Transformed. A missionary in Travancore, India, saw, >» morning, a native coming to his house a heavy burden. On reaching it he 1 on the ground a sack. Unfastening it he gmptt ied it of its contents—a number of What have you brought these here sked the missionary 1 don’t want “You have taught us that we do sir,” said the native, “but put to some good them.” not want them, s we think they might be use. Could they not be melted dow ? fc megs into a bell to call us to church? 1k ey were sent to a to a bell, which > converts to prais To have such and speak of" Pid CARDEN About Fences. The smaller a field the more ma- terial for fencing will be required, and the nearer the squarc form the cheaper the cost of inclosing the field. Fences . are heavy taxes on the farmer and should be avolded if possible, but if fences are made it will be cheaper to have them of the best material. “or Grass Seed. The best condition for the growth of grass is a soil firm, well-disintegrated as a whole; but with a smooth and fine surface “tilth. | This condition also an- swers for the cereal grains, with which such grass is usually sown. Winter wheat is the best crop with which to sow grass seed, spring wheat next and oats the most unsatisfactory. Diseased Trees. Farmers are frequently oifered dis- case-proof plants @ndrtrees, so-called, but it may .be safely claimed that no variety of pear, grape, cherry, apple, peach, gooseberry or ocher fruit is exempt from diseases paculiar to its species. Some varieties may nct be so susceptible to disease as others, but if within range of disease they will surely be attacked. To Preserve the Currants. September is the best month in the year to renew the currant plantation from cuttings or from division of new stools. Old stools may be carefully removed and divided, so as to retain vigorous, healthy wood and roots. These should be cut back somewhat, and planted at once in freshly pre- pared garden soil, where they can be hilled up heavily for winter. German Rape. Specimens of German (or Dwart I Es- sex) rape grown show the power of the plant for securing feed and mois- ture. Plants only one foot high were dug up having large rcots extending four feet, while the feeding roots near the surface were not only injurious, but extended over a large area. In time of drought the plant can get moisture in plenty, as it reaches far into the sub-spil. Cottonseed Fertilizing. Cottongeed “meal: containg about 7 per cent of ‘nitrogen, and the farmers buy it sometimes in their fertilizers. If they will use more cottonseed and linseed meal as foods for stock they will derive a profit therefrom and have a large portion left im the man- ure. The cheapest way to use either | cottonseed or linseed meals is to make meat, milk, butter, eggs from these raw materials. and grain Bran Is Richer. In one ten of corn there are about 36 pounds of nitrogen, 14 pounds phos- phoric acid and 8 pounds potash. In a ton of bran there are 53 pounds ni- trogen, 58 pounds phosphoric acid and 22 pounds petash. The bran is ccn- sequently much richer than corn in those elements, and it will pay to sell corn and buy bran. To save all plant foods there should be attention given the preservation of the liquid ferti- lizer. Renewing the Orchard. The fall is the time to remew the orchard, remove the dead wood and then plow the land, applying bone meal and wood ashes. Manure may alsc be applied to advantage, the ground be- ing well harrowed after the fertilizer and manure have been broadcasted. In the spring the ground may be used for potatoes, early cabbage, carrots, beets or parsnips, which will permit of growing a crop while cultivating the orchard. To Keep Onions. To keep onions over winter put them in a dry location, such as a barn loft, and spread them on a floor or on shelves in thin layers. If they should happen to freeze it will not damage them, provided they are not disturbed when frozen. They should be covered with sheets of paper in order to assist in preventing sudden thawing, but us- ually if the layers of onions are not too thick and the location is dry they will keep without eifionliy, A Garden Hint. It is sometimes claimed that a gar- den becomes too rich, and that it pro- duces an enormous growth of vine, with but little seeds or fruit. The difficulty is that the garden contains an excess of some kind of plant foods. Rotate the crops or make the garden in a new location, growing corn, pota- toes and cabbage successively on the old location when it may be used as a garden plot again. It is doubtful, how- ever, if a garden can be too rich. Tomato Worms, Tomato worms are frequently seen with numerous small white cbjects adhering to them, which are the eggs of pupae or parasites which prey upon the worms. Tomato worms thus at: tacked should not he destroyed. If farmers will take pains to thus make the distinction they will propagate the friendly parasites to de the work of destruction among insects more ef- fectually than in any other manner. We should learn to know the insect friends from foes and protect them. About Plowing. the land has been plowed in r sometimes objects the field early In the hardy weeds put in an appearance almost before frost leaves the ground. This is in favor of the farmer, if he will give the subject the proper view, as he can destroy the weeds by loosening in the soil, allowing warmth to enter, thus fcreing the weeds to germinate, so as to destroy them before the seeding of grain is done. The earlier the weeds can be started the fewer there will be later on if the cultivator is used fre- quently after the weeds begin to ap- pear. A New Way of Cutting Buckwneat. A new way of cutting buckwheat, which came under my observation last year, seems worthy the consideration at ‘raisers asa time and saver as .well as an improve- ment on the quantity of the grain. In- stead of cutting it with a cradle and letting it lie before raking and gath- ering up, the buckwheat was cut with a binder and the sheaves were gath- ered up and placed standing in cone corner of the field, so that the sheaves did net touch each other. The bands were then cut with a knife and the grain was allowed to stand until it was thoroughly dry, when it was hauled into the barn.—Thomas W. Llcyd, in the Tribune Farmer. : Destroying Hardhack. Not long ago I had occaslon to cross the adjoining pastures of two large dairy farms with natural conditions about alike. On one there. was a large amount of hardhack, while on the other there was only an occasionally small shrub to be seen. On the first there had been no at- tempt made to check or destroy the growth, but I found on enquiry that on the other thorough werk had been made in pulling up the bushes in the fall a few years since. It must have been pretty thorough, too, and effect- ual to hardly leave a trace behind. Perhaps the fall pulling was what did the business, similar to that of cutting. It is well worth trying again—E. R. Towle. Try Hairy Vetch. Those who are not familias with sand or hairy vetch shculd grow it and ascertain for themselves how valuable it is. A good way to test it is to take a single acre of land and prepare it for wheat, being careful to get as nice a seed bed as possible, then at wheat sowing time, sow this land with a mixture of one bushel of wheat and one bushel of hairy vetch. “The result will be surprising for the crep in the spring will be excellent for hay or for soiling. © The hairy vetch may be grown alone or it may be used as a .cover for young orchards. It does especially well under the shade of trees, hence could be used to advan- tage in orchards of considerable size. —Indianapolis News. A MAKING MILK PALATABLE. Some Valuable and Practical Sugges- tions to Amateur Nurses. Many patients when ordered a milk diet positively state that they cannot endure the taste of milk, that it al- ways nauseates them, or that it makes them billious and produces headache. The objection to the taste can always be overcome, and by a little tact and perseverance there are few persons who cannot digest a more or less ex- clusive milk diet for a few days or weeks if the milk is properly given. Their previous unfavorable experienee- is probably due to having a large dose of undiluted milk which soured, coag- ulated and was rejected, excitihg all the distaste which they have treasured against it. When the milk diet is necessary, such patients should commence with a teaspoonful or two at a time, repeat- ing it once in ten or fifteen minutes. If the milk is taken very slowly into the ‘stomach and mingled on ‘the way with saliva, like other food, eaten rather than drunk, it is impossible to form the large tough curds that it does when poured down by the tum- blerful, like a dose of disagreeable salts. In this manner by degrees the patient will be convinced of his abil- ity to retain it and then the quantity may be increased. Sometimes patients dislike the taste of raw milk or tire of it. This may be easily overcome by flavoring it in a variety of ways. A few teaspoonfiils of black coffee is one of the best means at hand. Very weak tea may be preferred. Caramel or ginger is another excellent flavoring substance which may be liberally used. Some patients take a little chocolate or cocoa s infusion with their glass of milk. Others prefer the addition of common salt or a little black pep- per. None of the additions materially fect the nutritive value of milk and t iety of taste which may be se- cured with these different flavoring ubs es will invariably overcome prejudices.—Housekeeper. Where Soap Grows Wild. In a mountain near Elko, Nev., there is an inexhaustible supply of pure soap. One may enter the mine with a butcher’s knife and cut as large a piece as he wants. It is beautifully mottled and on being exposed to the air hardens somewhat. The mountain of clay is of fine texture and it con- tains boracic acid, scda and borate of lime. Its coler is given it by the iron and other minerals. In its natural state it is rather strong in alkali and removes ink and other stains readily. At one time it was used in all of the lavato- ries on the Pullman cars, but as soon as this®fact became generally known the cakes were carried away by trav- elers as souvenirs. Che railroad com- pany could nc d, so it was for Use, Detroit 7 i i i
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers