7
BABY'S WISDOM.
her wakws
hnd breaks
i til ho speech,
Int wit.
.I reabon reach.
fund (iraek
liitl freak
long dead
-r before.
le world o'er,
nonsense sued.
Tel baby's yen
Sinks glad replies,
And baby's tfuy bands
Applausive mora
To deftly provs
How baby understand!.
And though my store
Of lingual lore
la my chief boasts among,
The foot disclose
Tlmt baby knows
More ot the mother tongue.
ltlvliinond Dispatch.
lA4
Old Maid's Love Affair
nt'iAMM trranM.
l,eryiiig down in the swamp
j mean? Miss Abigail
Tind aet down the heavy
li she was carrying to
ihe hnyflelJ. It surely
cry and a baby's", too!
I the chorda ot her lone-
rtl Miss Abigail loved
nasionate, yearning
Kd been years since
eard a baby cry. Liv-
Iher brother and his oc-
n that remote farm, ali
J. all neighborly
lights were almost
r. And above all
ind longed for the
children. Blie felt
a child to care for,
Tpty life would overflow
urpose. The days.uow
aningless, would be bo
id then! Ahl there is
le infinite aching of the
n a cbildloss breast,
that child-cry, floating
yaiup, was heavenly
Aeart of Miss Abigail
sped her hands and lis
le being absorbed iu
s connected with the
nly her heart surged
, and she caught her
thought that rushed
d what if a bnby hod
the swamp deserted 1
ie. should be the one to
e it home, and, oh, what
'iild ever come to claim
fnl face of the woman
ashed and. flushed and
succession as her heart
this wonderful possibil
ity with a little cry that
yer, she sprang toward
jiving the banket ot luuch
i July sun.
' from the thick,
attorn of the pas-
torn and her face
streaming with perspi-
rapture and triumph that
pyes, as sue looked down
i strained to ber breant.
i for her had suddenly
w (VMivi mum J kvuumuu.
derations and that she was
asoiom of walking upon such
J air as the old painters limned
k the feet of their exalted Ma
1 A little face peeped out from
ged shawl that wrapped Miss
1's precious burden, but the
Ve cry had ceased, and the blue
v the little foundling were gaz-
vto those ,'two springs of liin-
"hat shone above them.
v""" find his two hired men
impatiently under the
big elm tree when their
Jrovider finally arrived
Isket bf lunch and that
it upon her left arm. It
t noon, and Nathan Drew
d fuming at his sister's
delay,
hrnel kent von so loner?"
I as the panting woman
Sasket under the shadow
'And, for goodness' sake,
"n yer arms?"
Nathan I" replied his sis-
VTuII of soft, reverential
joor ' little baby that was
iwamp. I heard it crying
"-"flnd ft, and tiiat'a what
Sid Nathan Drew, taking
ni the basket and in
nits. "What be ye
across the radiant
,u. There was some
f forbidding in ber
lid manner. Evident
stion that had entered
, how to get rid of the
aonmbranoe that had
pon- his land. Their
e traveling in diamet
oaite directions the
xda retaining the child,
ardi disposing of it.
something of the proteo
of love in Abigail's evasive
isr brother. "Probably
ome along and claim
ie, ' she said,
laughed derisively.
i a nuge bite out or one
i delicious chicken sand'
washed it down with a gulp
it the warm can. "Very
'plied at length; "very
he laughed again.
dropped it accidentally in
t boys? Bomebody'll
, 'moat crazy to find it,
;
jn latghed servilely.
Main that their minds
isorbed by the lunch'
Mr employer held be
id was steadily pluu-
i
n, boys. Hitch np
something to eat I
. "We can't bother
day. There's work to
f the hired men were
' auxietv disaDneared,
a smart little French
ned:
i enow where dat
- it Dat ipsds leev
C.-n Iiill; he
- 4 luv t'resv
four, five liebby prob'ly too. Alt
bet dat mans left drtt bobby,soh!"
"I shouldn't wonder," replied Na
thnu Drew. "Shiftless chap I Camp
ing down on my property with
out even asking permission and using
my lumber shanty, stove and woodl ,
I'm glad he's gone, but I wish he'd
taken his hull blame brood with liim.
The young nn 'II prob'ly grow up jest
like the rest of em, lazy and wutb-less!"
"Ah heard say," continued the lit
tle Frenchman, "dat mail's Hinglish
man, good fambly, but not ver' strong
for work. Los' heez health an' 'bliged
for take to de woods. No money no
health big fambly. Ah gncss nh'll
do 'bout same t'ing as him, bah gosh,
if nh got too much bebby!"
"Don't doubt it, Alphouse " re-
olued the farmer. "That's jeBt the
sort of a critter you be and yer hull
Canuck tribe.
Alphouse grinned appreciatively and
took no oflbuce. Then silence fell
upon the three men until the last
crumb ami drop of their noouday lunch
had disappeared.
Abigail tenderly laid the bnbv down
iu the grass while she gathered to
gether the dishes and napkins and re
packed them in the basket. Her
brother stood over her, watching. He
was a spare, hard-faced, irou-groy
man, who showed by every line and
feature tho absence of sentiment in
his make-up. The woman's hands
trembled as she worked. She knew
he was about to say something con
cerning the child. Presently he
spoke:
You kiu keep that young un jest
two days, Abigail. Then, if there
don t nobody come to claim it, I am
goin' to take it to the Foundling Hos
pital." Having thus delivered him
self, he shouldered his pitchfork and
walked determinedly away.
J ears obscured the homeward path
of the little woman as she struggled
through the shimmering sunlight with
the infant ou her arm. Hhe knew that
her brother would be turned from his
purpose neither by argument nor by
entreaty. He had spoken, and that
was nn end of it the inflexible ulti
matum of that old Puritan-bred tyr
anny that survives in so ninny heads
of New England households.
lint, though the path was blurred.
it took her home the only home she
had ever known, the root under which
she had beeu born and reared and
which had descended to her elder
brother when their parents died.
Hastening to the pantry, she took milk
and warmed it for the babe, half atn
pellod by starvation. Then, clumsily.
yet with a woman's instinct, she spar
ingly fed the child with a spoon, a few
drops at a time. As life cnuie back to
the little body with nourishment, the
baby cried weakly, and Abigail
strained it to her bosom, whilo tears
ot mingled joy and pity rained down
npon the little head. What a pretty
child it was, despite its suffering!
What a dear, white skin; what a lit
tle, pointed, dimpled chin; what blue,
blue eyes; what breadth of forehead
and liillnosB ot temple; what daiuty
little hands; what a soft, sweet neck
for nestling a mother's lips!
For two days' Abigail Drew lived in
the awful joy of one who draius the
nectar from a cup which, when
emptied, must be dashed to earth.
Bhe tried to put away the thought that
sue and that little baby girl must part.
Bhe tried to make those two precious
days heaven enough for all of life.
Hhe tried, with all the dutifulness and
reverence of her nature, to bow to her
brother's will and be coutent. But
every hour the .' whisper in her heart
grew stronger and more insistent
"Cleave to the child. Keep her.cher-
ish her. Bhe is yours, a gift of God,
the auswer to your life-long praver."
At last she went to ber brother and
poured out her heart with an intensity
of passion he had never suspected in
that quiet, reserved, meekly subser
vient sister of his. But, although
surprised and disturbed, Nathan Drew
was not moved. His heart remained
obdurate. To him the thought of a
foundling child in the house was nn
endurable. Never a lovor of children.
always convinced in his own heart
that childlessness was the ' more
blessed state, how could he be ex
pected to look with favor upon an
adopted baby, a ohild concerning
whose antecedents and propensities
one knew absolutely nothing? Nol he
would not hear to it. To the Found
ling Hospital at Mayflold the little
waif must go.
Towards evening of the last day of
her probation Abigail Drew began to
gather together certain little treasures
ot her own heirlooms. Her mother's
Bible, the laces left her by Aunt Ju
dith, an old-fashioned watch and
chain, six silver spoons, worn as thin
as paper these, and a few other
things, she wrapped in a bundle; and
then, taking baby and bundle in her
arms, she wentout,cloBing the kitchen
door reverently and softly behind her,
Down the road, through the haze of
the lata afternoon, aha walked, as
one in a dream, leaving behind her al
that she bad ever known and loved
hitherto.
sound ot whetstone on scythe-blade-
what a clear, cheery ringl How
could Natliau beat such music with
banishment for the babe for both of
them, did he but know it! in his
heart?
Beyond the bridge, Abigail turned
into the woods and followed the
stream westward, for the rood ran too
near the meadow whore Nathan and
his men were hayiug. The child fell
to crying, but she nestled it and kept
on. Just before sunset she came out
of the woods upon another road and
followed it southward. The summer
dusk began to deepen, yet she met no
traveler and passed no house. AVhnt
n lonely country it was, tlint New
Hampshire mountain vnlleyl lue
great hills looked down over the
woods like stern-faced giants, lue
night air smcllcd of swamps and piny
glens and deep-buried solitudes. The
voices were all those of wild creatures,
mysterious and hidden. How the
weary, lienrt-sick woman longed lor
tho sight of a roof, a chimney.nu open
door especially for the face of one
of her own sex. Only the heart of a
woman understands a woman's heart!
At Inst, when the fireflies began to
drift across her path like sparks from
the crumbling embers of the sunset,
Abigail, turning a bend iii the road,
came suddenly upon the welcome
glow of a farmhouse window. Hue
astened forward and, turning into the
little path between the lilao bushes,
approached the open door. A man
sat upon the doorstep smoking,and,as
ie saw the approaching figure, he
rose and called his wife.
A buxom, sweet-faced woman came
bustling to the door, skewer in hand.
The moment Abigail's eyes vested
upon her face she cried:
"Lucindn Jones!
The skewer fell clattering npon the
floor, and the two women rushed to
gether, like amicable battering-rams,
the arms of the Inrger embracing
friend and child iu their expansive
embrace.
"Abignil Drew! Be yon still living
in those parts? I heard, away out iu
York stnte, where we just moved from,
that you and your brother had gone
west 20 years ago. Myl and you've
been nud married and got a baby?
Come in come in! Lorenzo.fetch the
rocker out of the settin' room. How
glad I am to see. you again, Abigail. I
thought you una me was parted lor
ever."
How straight love had led her wan
dering feetl Abigail sank down in
the cushioned rocker and marveled at
the cheerful firelight playing ou the
face of the sleeping babe. Welcome
refuge sympathy! Ah! she had
not obeyed the iuward voice in vain.
Bix weeks was Nathan Drew a-seorch-
ing for the treasure he had lost. He
drove east, west, north aud south,
stopping at every mountain farmhouse
to seek news of his sister. Nobody
had seen her going or coming. The
yawning earth could not have swal
lowed her more completely.
But at last he found her. Hhe was
sitting, with her baby, on a low chair
under the lilao bushes, and he spied
her before be had reached the house.
Bhe saw him at the same moment and,
springing up like a hunted creature,
made as if she would have flod. But
he stopped her with a pleading ges
ture and a look on his face such as she
hud not seen since they were childron
together.
"You don t know how I ve missed
yon, Abigail," he said, simply, draw
ing rein in front of the lilac bushes.
The man looked haggard and worn,
and there was a pathetio toue in his
voice.
"I can't go home with yon. Nathan."
said Abigail, firmly; and she pressed
the rosy child closer to ber bosom.
Yet there was a yearning look in het
eyes that her brother was not slow to
interpret.
"I ve thought it all over sence yon
left, Abigail," he said; "and it's b'en
borne in npon me that, per'aps, I was
wrong about the child. Come home.
and you shall keep it as long as you
live. I won't say another word. It's
the only love affair you ever bed, Abi
gail, and I ain t a-goin to stand any
longer between you and your heart."
The tears welled to Abigail's eves as
she came out into the road with her
child. "Put your hand on her head.
Nathau," she said, "and swear to me
that you will never part us. Then I
will go home. with you."
Nathan Drew hesitated a moment.
Then he touched the child's head with
the tips of his horny fingers and said
"I swear it, Abigail."
So they two and the child went
home together, New York Post.
From the distant meadow own the
Klephant Lost a Tusk.
Hatnee, the Zoo elephant, has
broken off one of her tusks, one of
those big, long, handsome chnnks of
ivorj that have been her glory and her
pride for many and many a year. No
body knews how it happened. The
calamity was discovered shortly after
daybreak.the other morniug.when her
keeper arrived to give her her break
fast. He found the tusk lying on the
floor, and the great, docile creature
was fondling it in a pathetio way with
her trunk. It had broken off close to
the flesh, and at that point was slight
ly decayed, but to no serious extent.
'fhe -occurrence is a very rare one in
captive elephant life, and the only
explanation seems to be that Hatnee
had a tussle with a team of night
mares and got done np to the extent
of losing her left tusk. But the faot
that she just as eagerly as ever do
vonred her breakfast of two big buck'
etfuls of oats "ud bran, 190-pound
bole of hay and 18 bucketfuls of Ohio
river water, showed how little her
loss concerned her... The tusk will
make as valuable a set ot billiard balls
as were ever turned out. A new tusk
will grow in plaoe of the old one, but
considerable time will be required,
Cincinnati Enquirer
What May II" Looked For.
Blue, gray mid yellow are among the
most prominent colors in the summer
goods. Blue with black crossbars ap
pears in sash ribbons by the hundred,
and the ribbons are made to go with
blue muslin gowns.
Tilt of the Hat.
The tilt of the hat counts more than
(lie hut itself at present. Every elab
orate piece of millinery is meant to be
worn in a particular way, and it is
seldom that a woman gets anything
like the intended effect without com
petent instruction. Be sure you know
how or else stick to the pi-etty.stralght
brimmed shapes trimmed with ribbon
and clustprs of flowers.
Sweet ilnR-s for ScMitlng Linen.
Every self-respecting housewife
likes to have her table and house- linen
smelling of sweet aromatic odors, so I
am giving a recipe for making these
scout bags economically. Take equal
quantities of powdered cloves, mace,
nutmeg and cinnamon. Powder the
dried leaves of mint, balm, southern
wood, ground ivy, laurel, sweet mar
joram, hyssop aud rosemary, so that
they form an equal weight with the
above. Then add halt as much of
chips of cassia, juniper, sandalwood
aud rosewood, also powdered root of
angelica orris. The mixture will bo
completed by quarter as much amber
gris and musk. All these things
should be well mixed aud theu put up
in little bags of sateen, which should
be placed between the clothes in the
clothes press.
Rnslies In nigh Favor,
Bashes aro in high favor this season.
Nothing adds more grace to an already
graceful, slender figure thau a sash
tied around the waist, with long ends
at 'the side or back. The handsomest
ones are made of magnificent inoire
ribbon, with a brocaded stripe run
ning through the centre, aud are from
12 to 18 inches in width. The ends
are finished with long silk fringe.
Other moire sashes have insertions of
lace set in straight up and down,
straight across or nig zag, and are
finished with accordion plated chiffon.
White surah sashes with ends of
Romnu stripes are also much used,
and so are those of taffeta iu delicate
shades. A surah sash has one distinct
advantage over all others it washes
beautifully and takes dye better than
any other silk.
The Princesses of Spain.
The daughters of the Queen Rollout
of Bpaiu are brought up much more
simply than was formerly thought
right for Hpanish infantas, aud they
are allowed more liberty. Their royal
highuesses are often to be met walk
ing on the public promenade iu Mad
rid, with their attendants, among the
other frequenters of that favorite
wulk. The princesses are almost al
ways accompanied by their greatest
friend, the Donna Bol, the only
daughter of the Duke and Duchess
of Alba. The duke and duchess, who
have precedence of all Hpanish nobles,
take their place immediately behind
the princes and princesses of the
blood royal, and their children have
always been the favorite companions
of the little king of Hpain aud his sis
ters. The Duke of Alba is a nephew
of the ex-Empress Eugenie, his
mother having been the sister of her
majesty. The present Duchess of
Alba, who is a great sportswoman.has
the reputation of being the proudest
woman in Hpain. Bhe holds the post
of lady of the palace to the Queen Be-'
gent, and has unbounded influence
with her royal mistress.
Selecting Kid Oloves. -
In selecting a kid glove for wear
choose a fine, but not too flue kid
Examine the inside of a glove. It is
importaut that the glova be dyed
on the outside only. Wherever
the color of the dye has struck
through the leather there the glove
will be found tender. This is because
the strength of the dye neoessary to
color leather is always strong enough
to make it tender if it strike through
it to the inside. Bometimes the leather
will only show the color at the seam
on the inside. Buoh a glove will pull
out at this Beam. It is wise to select
a glove of neutral dark tint Black
gloves as a rule do not wear as well
as dark colors. Browns wear well; so
do dark grays and the pretty putty
ana ecru tints now so fashionable.
In mending a glove, avoid using
ailk except to darn down a piece of
dress silk the color of the glove on the
inside of the glove to hold a rent
together. In this case, darn the
parts together with invisible stitches
on the outside. Always sew over
ripped seams with cotton the color of
the thread used iu making the gloves.
Do not use silk to sew ripped seams
or to darn with except when it ia
stronger than cotton,
KtlquxlU of Hournlng.
English moumiug, considered by
mart mantnamakers to be in the bet
taste, is heavier than before, but is
worn tor a shorter time, A widow
should wear her crape, heririetta cloth
or bouibaziue and ber widow's cup
for one year. After that time'sha will
AGRICULTURAL T0PIC3.
Ornamental Plants Prom tasd.
assume all black without crape OT
cap, and at the end of tho second year
put on whatever color she may desire.
A daughter wears "crape mourn
ing" for six mouths, all black for six
more, and then, if she wishes, put on
colors. The same rule applies to a
sister, while a distant relativeor friend
wears 'Vomiilimentnrv mourning." all
black, for three months.
The stiffly crimped net which at one
time was wqtn at the neck aud wrists
by widows is no longer used. In its
stead fine lawn cuffs and collars, quite
deep, the cuffs having hems measur
ing half an inch, while the hem of the
collar is a little less, are basted in the
sleeves and neck after the fashion of
old "turnover" collars and cuffs.
These, it must be remembered, are
worn exclusively by widows, and the
three-cornered cap is made to match.
Of course, the friends and acquaint
ances of the bereaved should leave
cards at the door with their condol
ences written upon them, but only
those connected by ties of blood or
the most intimate friends should ever
ask to see those in grief. They are at
home, and many women, restrained
by their scruples ot truth and cour
tesy, are forced to see thoughtless
callers, when it is far" from pleasant, if
not absolutely painful.
All cards of inquiry are recognized
by a return card, black bordered, and
should be sent within tin days after
the reception of the card of inquiry.
Letters of condolence have almost en
tirely given way to personal cards.and
those in grief are not expected to
auswer such letters, except by the re
turn of pasteboard. English custom
requires a special black bordered card
for this purpose, engraved somewhat
as follows: "Mrs. Blank wishes to
thank you for your kindness in mak
ing inquiries about her." The name,
of course, is to be filled in. The en
velope used should be black bordered
and tit the card.
While crape is worn formal visits
are never paid, invitations never ac
cepted. A woman cannot give evidence
of worse taste than by wearing a long
crape veil to a place ot amusement,
while crape on the dancing floor is an
abomination too great to be consid
ered.
When crape is laid aside black bor
dered paper goes with it. This paper
has regular numbers; that used by
daughters and sisters is known to the
stationers as No. 1, by a mother that
known as No. 8, while a. widow uses
No. 4. All jewelry is out of taste in
mourning.
Fashion Fancies.
Chiffon straw hats are worn with
new costumes.
Dainty ribbons with gauze borders
come in all the pretty colors.
Checks appear to be the leading
style for dress silks, as well as for
necktie silks.
Bordered fabrics, by the yard or
imported in robe patterns, are greatly
in evidence among summer dress ma
terials. Plaids in clannish colors and Roman
striped ginghams are greatly used for
shirt waists, especially for golfing and
cycling. ,
Bayadere stripes and plaids in rib
bons are shown iu large quantities, the
former for gowns aud the latter for
children's hats.
Corduroy and uncut velvots in gray
are fashionable, this color seeming to
have won its way into the hearts of
fashionable women.
Over a third of all the goods ordered
from wholesale firms is iu plain fab
rics, which faot augurs well for the
supremacy of the tailor made suit.
Every well dressed woman feels the
need of such a oostume, and ia glad
to find new materials of suitable color,
texture and pattern.
In the new materials shown are
changeable and plain poplins, whip
cords, plain armiire effects, drap d'ete,
drap de Paris and plain jacquards. Iu
extreme novelties are plaids, bayadere
goods, plain silk and wool cloths, with
raised silk and braidwork, and others
with a crinkled face of fine overshot
silk mixtures.
Shaded, striped and figured taffetas
are still leading silks for linings, the
bayadere and raye stripes being al
most too new to be called popular as
yet. The secret of the delightful
frou frou that proclaims without a
doubt the silken lining and under
skirt can never be obtained, however,
from any of these. Only a plain, one-
shade taffeta, with plenty of dressing
for both lining and petticoat, will pro
duce the desired effect.
The chapeau par excellence is th
English walking hat. The sailor
model, in its new, improved outlines.
is not deposed by this very popular
hat, however, nor will it hold a less
important position later ou; but for
the present the English shape has the
tunings ot the milliners. This bat ia
sufficiently varied in its style and eon'
tour to adapt itself to all types of
faces, for while the difioreuc in the
brim and crown ia not at all pro
nounced, the manner of arranging the
trimmings upou the hat for different
people quickly transform its outlines
to the eHect desired.
The castor oil bean (rioinns) is onrt
of the best of ornamental leaved
plants which may bo grown from seed
and bloom the first year. They grow
rapidly and make a fine hedge or
screen if planted in open rich soil in a
dry situation. At the young plants do
not bear transplanting well the seed
should be planted directly where the
plant is to remain, in the open ground,
when the weather bocomes warm. The
richer the soil the more rapid the
growth of the plant and the mor
brilliant the oolor of foliage and
stalk. Aocording to variety the plants
grow from six to eight feet high, ami
have foliage of shadex of green, red
and purple. Nicotina afflnia is also
readily grown from seed. The plant
grows to a height of three or font
feet, its broad green letves and blos
soms of white being very attractive.
The soil should be rich and well
drained. A packet of seeds of each
variety, or rather class, costing ten
cents for the. best variety, will furnish
a display equalling more costly palms
and foliage plants.
Heredity In Stock Hreeillna. '
The attention of the stock breeder
who is striving for improvement iu
the character and quality of his stock
must be directed to the study of the
individual characteristics of his breed
ing animals, with a view to ascertain
ing not only their merits and defects.
but the causes of such discernible in
dividual characteristics, whether they
are hereditary or acquired. Also he
must apply himself to the study of the
indications df invisible qualities, and
to testing for such characteristics to
learn if the invisible qualities are pres
ent as indicated or not. In producing
high-class stock to be used for further
purposes of improvement attention of
the breeder must be directed to a study
of ancestry to ascertain what latent
qualities his stock is likely to possess
that the undesirable latent qualities
may be overcome and the best may be
brought into activity and usefulness..
A study of tho formation of any
breed brings ns to the conclusion that
the valne of the breed is due to selec
tion, the breeding of blood lines and
feeding conditions. To maintain and
strengthen the present degree of ex
cellence it is necessary to bring to
bear equal method and system. This
can only be accomplished by working
along with nature and building on
strong foundations. C. H. Elmendorf,
n Nebraska Farmer.
Care of Vouni Pigs.
If young pigs have plenty of exer
cise and the right kind of food there
is no danger of over-feeding. A small
quantity ot corn ground with wheat or
rye and middlings, and the whole
mixed with milk, is a first-class food
for young pigs. The common field
varieties of peas are also an excellent
food for pigs, young or ' old. Bow at
the rate of two bushels per acre and
cover four indies deep, sowing after
the peas are planted three peoks of
oats per aore, well harrowed in, to
serve as a support for the peas.
The food for pigs of all ages when
not being fatted should be that which
has bulk. Middlings, milk, ground
barley and swill for pigs, and for
shoats and breeding stock, fed in ad
dition beets or other roots cooked and
mixed with cut clover hay. For
young pigs, ground oats with the hulls
sifted out is an excellent food. Have
part of the feeding pen so arranged
that a portion of the grain food may
be scattered over it broadcast to give
the pigs exercises in feeding it. A
run of liberal dimensions should be
provided for young pigs if they ore
kept in confinement, in order to get
the amount ot growth from the feed
given to be profitable, otherwise lib
eral feeding will only result in an ex
cess of fat before the formation of the
desired amount of bone and muscle.
Collo In Horses.
It is stated on good authority that
seventy-live per cent, of the horses
that die each year are victims of colic
puring the spring the trouble is fre
quent among farm horses, although it
Is usually wind eolio, but this may
turn into the nervous colio so gener
ally fatal unless prompt and intelli
gent treatment is given. The stomach
of the horse ia peculiarly susceptible
to the changes of food that are fre
quently made in the spring, and that
invariably causes an attack of indi
gestion more or less violent. ' Any
change in food should be brought
about gradually, and so also should
radical changes in the work required
of the animal. It stands to reason
that a horse lightly fed fr two or
three months of winter with but little
work to do is not in fit oondition to
put into the field for ten hours' work
at heavy plowing. Oive horses whole
some food regularly and according to
the work done by them. Keep them,
from exposure to draughts ot cold air,
especially when very warm; give only
pure water to drink, and they are
praotically insured against oolio.
Should the colic attack the horse,
the following treatment will give re
lief in most cases. An 'injection of
dear water of the same temperature
of the stable should first be given.
followed by a pill made of five drams
ot powered Burbadoes aloes, one dram
mercurions chloride and enough lin
seed meal to make a stiff pill with th
addition of a little water. Hub bell;
and flanks with eoarse cloth or sack
ing if the animal is chilled. Aiterj
this treatment the horse should not bol
vrbrked or violently exercised for all
least twenty-four hours. If the at
took does not suoounib to this, treat
ment it ia sufficiently severe and dun
gerous to need the immediate service
ox a skilled veterinarian.
In Mexioo every thing and every
oody pays direct tux, from the streuf
porter to thelargest mercantile estau
uaiiuieui. unii T.11H Hianin IAI IUF uuuu
I meats is rnually lucrative.