TH1 TBAOHBM. Give ma a trt that t may wateh It rlM Up, ever upward to the eternal skies, And learn from It the lesson It doth teach la patience e'er (or higher things to reach. GHve me a tiny rill, a rivulet That speeds along unmindful of regret; That dashes onward to the mighty sea Athlrst of that great whole a part to bel Give me a sturdy pcnk that proudly rears Its hcnd aloft whatever storm appears. To All my soul with that great strengthfulness That holds It stenutiist In the hour ot stress. Give mo a star to look at far above, A star that sheds Its radiant rays of love, And spnrkles fairest In the blackest night, And sends down through the dark Its song of light! John Kendrlck Hangs, in Harper's Weekly. a r t n t T? 4 1 DULUiniV O 1 v7 IV Ii m By ROSEMARY HOAR. The snow was falling thick and fast, and to him who wit by tho Are within that lonely room every flake was hurry ing relentlessly down to cover a new made grave. It was twilight, the hour when she was ever wont to sit beside him, in summer upon the porch, nntl In this sort ot weather on the other side of the open grate where the empty chair stood now. The funeral had tak on place that afternoon, friends were kind, very kind; old comrades had nleade-1 with him to come to their homes or to let one of them stay with him. But with gentle resistance he had refused all their well-meant com panionship, and was according to his advice, alone. What his plans for the future mighti be did not matter; for tonight no one should Intrude upon his sacred communing. It had hnppened. Hardly did he real lze It yet, and, being a man of slow perception and deliberate action, he needed time and solitude to adjust him elf to changed circumstances. Besides, he was not lonely, no storm of grief had as yet rent his being. It may be that he had not felt aright, but true it was that not even when they brought her In from the street dead had a tear rolled down his cheek Dead! Why should he say that word? Why, there she was In her chair on the other side of the blazing logs; he could see her knitting In the dusk and hear her say, "Yes, John, dear, I think It is time to make tea." Was not that she now, moving about In the next room, tinkling china? The kettle was singing upon the stove; was It not awaiting her, too? Yes, and she was coming; he could tell her step In a million; It was scarce heavier than forty years ago. Forty years ago! The half-burnt log gave a sudden lurch and be stooped to fix It. Forty years ago! Why, that was way back before the War yes, he remembered now. It Was when she wore that lilac dimity, when her curls were sunny br'own. A mere slip of a girl she was then, and (lender and frail always. And his dally prayer had ever been that he should be spared to protect her, that Martha might never be left alone. Plants are different; some strong by themselves, others are of a twin ing1 nature,- yea, he had prayed that Martha be never left alone without him. That was the way he had put the request; but what the granting of H might mean to him, he had never dared formulate. And he never sus pected that her secret supplication was a similar concern for him. Never bverstrong for some time back Martha's heart had fluttored like a frightened bird, too much and too fre Quently. Still, only three days ago, In the afternoon, seemingly as well as 4ver, she had put on her little bonnet with the soft lavender velvet bow and fur coat, preparatory to going down town. He had protested for it was bit ter cold, and a wind was coming up. But Martha was laughingly rebellious Bind would have her own sweet way, refusing even to let him accompany her. "Why, I'm sixty years young," she exclaimed, with an echo of the old youthful ring in her voice. "Can't I go down street alone and do a little shopping?" And she kissed him and called him a great followcat, and was off. He could see hor now as she went through the doorway; he had watched her ad miringly and anxiously to the end of the street, where she stepped upon the car. Why had he let her go? Why bad ha not kept her with him while he could? Perhaps it was better not be would try to think so lest Martha should some day be left alone. And having seen her take the car safely, be returned to his chair by the fire, wondering what her little surprise was now. He had forgotten that it was his birthday, and did na'j think ot It even now. It was not until they .brought her back through the same doorway and laid her upon the old horse-hair Bofa dead. Dead! Was . It really so? Martha dead and he alone by the flre? He would not remember his birth fay then, but they gave him a small parcel that had been clasped In her arms when she fell. It was a daintily colored photograph in a gilt frame, the picture of a sweet-faced girl in a ' lilac dimity, a laughing girl with sunny jbrown hair! It must have been made from that old daguerreotype of her, (taken a few years before the war, a likeness that they had somehow mis laid and had not been able to find for many years back. be must have come upon it recently and kept the dls- r1 very -a secret to have this done as birthday surprise. Then many things happened in which be had no part People came and went, .did things and said things; but he only knew that she lay there cold and Mill, with-hor pale face gentle as ever, Iher hair soft and silvery, weaning the iblack satin dress that he had bought T) rTrT) "r r her for their silver wedding day. Only this afternoon they had taken her away and now he was alone. The Qce of the girl with sunny brown hald peeking out at him frbm the oval gilt frame had brought back many scenes of the misty long ago, and tonlfctfit he would live them all through again. No wonder Dick Heaton loved her! Any man well might, and Rich ard was a good man, too, good and gen erous; he proved it afterward. But Martha never loved Dick; she never loved anyone butt him, common, ordin ary John Reynolds, with only a pair of stalwart shoulders and a good heart and soul to recommend him. Nothing of cleverness was there In his make up; why h,ad Martha Hadley loved him so? Impossible to tell ; it might have been because her people did not wish her to; they were determined that) she should marry Richard Heaton. Dick was a good fellow, but Martha did not love him. So much was sure. But she was a child of strong and righteous people, Inheriting traits of self-denial and forbearance, reared In the spirit of setting aside desire for duty. She had all her life yielded unquestioning obedience to stern parents, and when they had persisted a sufficiently long time In their opposition to John Rey nolds, she succumbed, and, locking her rose of Joy tightly within her heart, consented to marry Richard Heaton. And she did so. But to do Justice to Heaton, he did not know not then. She, poor child, thought It possible to keep her secret forever, and smile and be dutiful to her chosen husband. Keep such a secret a lifetime! What a task! Of course, he guessed it, but Bhe did net know that. After she blushed at the hypocrite he must have thought her when Bhe smiled upon him daily and suffered his caresses, how should she know that he had discerned the truth when his manner remained un changed? Poor artless girl! The unwonted dissimulation was be ginning to tell upon her; John Rey nolds knew It, for he saw her from time to time as she went here and there to ithe village gatherings with her husband. And his honest face burned and his good heart ached that she should suffer the most of all. He hushed his owni cry of pain, and even hoped that she might forget him, for her own sake, and stamp out his mem ory from her heart. He pitied Richard Heaton, too, for something told him, that the man must one day awaken to the truth. He would far rather be In his own posi tion, beloved as he knew himself to be, than In Dick'B although Heaton was her husband. Some blessings are twofold In value when doubled in quan tity, but such Is not true of all good things. That woman Is indeed rich who possesses the love of an honest man; Martha, with the love of two, might as well, or better, suffer a dearth of affection, and the pretty timid face faded, too, es both John Reynolds and Dick Heaton observed, but neither re marked it except to his own heart. The gilt-framed picture of the brown haired girl had brought It all back, to night. The log on the flre was crumbling away. He went to get anotner, and as ho did so staggered a little. It might have been from the rigidity of his long position, he thought; it could not bo from weakness, for ho was a strong man. He had never been ill In his life, save after the wound at Gettysburg1, and once again a few months ago, when he had suffered a sort of shock. It was that last sickness of his that had made Martha's heart palpitate so badly. He had not been 'just exactly as epry as usual since. But he was a strong man and not seventy yet The fresh log cracked and sent out sparks. He set the screen in front of t, for the sparks might set fire to Martha's dress. Martha.! Where was she? He leaned forward and placed his hand upon the vacant, chair. Then he remembered that she was not there, but in the oval gilt frame, wearing a lilac dimity and sunny brown curls Just as In the days before she was Richard Heaton's wife. And a good wife she was too,- and meant to be always always. Dick was the best of husbands, but when the war broke out, of course, he had to go; Heatons had fought for cen turies back and their blood flowed through his veins; He was made cap tain of the village company in which John Reynolds was a private. And at least one woman's prayerful benedic tion followed both into battle; Rey nolds saw her on the street in the midst of others, watching ee they tramped away. She saw him, too, at tho same moment; that was ell. Both were full sure that they should never meet again on this side of the shadowy border; each sent up a spontaneous prayer to God for the keeping of the other. What were the feelings of the other onlookers and soldiers we know not, but these three hearts seemed to beat a death march at Captain Heaton led his company away. Southern skies were hot, the marshes sickening and fever-laden. Forced marches, battles, retreats, thundering cannon, shot and shell, wounds, groans and death were all about him, yet he was spared, he who might be better dead. Why was he not taken instead of that brave one failing at his side, whoso last breath was a prayer for wife and children, whose death meant an other widow and more fatherless chil dren in the world. It was not until the last day at Gettysburg that he fell, and strange to say, It was not until that eame day that the gallant young captain was wounded also wounded unto death. But in the letter which the kind young lady wrote to Martha there was a mistake. It told her that John Rey nolds was hopelessly shattered and could live but a few days at best, and that Richard Heaton, with a serious but not mortal wound, was close by In the same hospital, and a source of great comfort to him. Such an easy thing to do to slip in one name where the other ought to bo, whew the writer knew not tho personality or the where aboitfs of either. It was at Heaton's request and whol- ly unknown to Reynolds that she wrrote and may God forgive the pale young wife if when- the letter came to her New England cottngo, there was a sin gle traitorous or rebellious thought, f spirit, even transitory, other than that of renunciation! She had been loyal to her husband, devoted and true; she would remain so, faithful for a life- time. But he was dying. Was It wrong that Bhe flew there as fast as trains could take her, fuming with un wonted Impatience at every delay and obstacle, praying God to spare him breath until her arrival? What she had renounced for a lifetime might she not indulge for a moment? Only to pi aether hand upon the brow, and look Into1 the eyes she loved once more Then It would be over all for ever. Small wonder If John Reynolds concluded that he must have been sud denly taken with some sort of illusion ing fever, when, as sitting wltj great effort for his own wound was painful enough by the cot of Richard Heat on, trying to solace him whose life had all but gone, he discerned advanc- Ing the one loved face and form that was always nresent, in his waklne and sleeping dreams. Could Dick see It, too, and was it a vision sent to solace his dying moment? Could It be that he was awake and heard aright when the nurse was telling Richard Heaton that his wife had arrived and was then waiting outside the door for the an nouncement to be gradually and gent ly made? It was not so very Btrange in her confusion that she kissed two men in stead of one; no wonder she wept and emilod and blushed and sighed and wept again, for emotions followed swift upon one another, Joy for the one when she perceived the very evident mistake, and sincere concern for the other who had never been aught but kind and de voted to her. And when John Rey nolds would have moved away to give husband and wife privacy Heaton's feeble hand was raised detalnlngly. "Do not go, John," he said, the words coming between struggling gasps. "I have something to say. I want you to take care of Martha when I am gone. She loves you I was blinded did not know until too late. She has been true and kind to me will be to you. Sorry I kept you apart so long. Take her now, John; Martha, give him your hand and promise me." It seemed' as if every word he uttered shortened his life a space; the strug gle, wias painful to him and them. The pledge given, he had no more to say say, "uomrort ner:" wnen ne saw niB wife's slight frame shaking 'violently with sobs.' And John Reynolds had wept with her, too, if there were any comforting In that. Wept! He was weeping now, in the lonely room before a llghtless grate. His own great sobs aroused him; he was cold and numb; his arm had that "needles-and-plns" sensation which he had first experienced a few months ago. Well, he would sit there a bit longer and flniEh his dream. Since tho war was over, since since then until three days ago when he saw her tie on the llttlo bonnet with the soft la.vender velvet bow,-he had not been, from her side a single day. Why had he not gone with her It was so cold when she set out alone, laughing and say ing that sho was sixty years young! She came back they brought her back her and the lilac dimity girl in the gilt frame and both were with him still. One had silver curls and the other sunny brown; both smiled and smiled and beckoned he smiled back through his tears and answered that he would come. In the morning his nearest neigh bor, who came In early to be sure that he had some breakfast, found him in the chair before a flreless grate. She call a doctor, for he was but par tially conscious, who pronounced him to be suffering from a stroke, due prob-i ably to shock and grief. In a few days they laid him to rest beside Martha, whose secret prayer had been that John should never be left alone. Spring'fieldl Republican. Unkind. Mrs. A. Mrs. Baker says she'd give a good deal to know where you get your clothes. Mrs. B. (smiling) She likes them, then, doesn't she? Mrs. A. No. She thinks they wear wonderfully. New York Times. An advocate of the vegetarian diet has stated that the nut trees of the world are capable of supplying food, all the year, to the population of th globe. No Money In Milk. Owing to the poor feed in the pas tures and the high price of grain, no money was made in milk production last year. The day of cheap gradn is past and In the future the producer must plan more to raise his own grain, The price of milk has advanced some what in proportion to that of grain and is one-third higher thorn it was eight jears ago, and is now higher than at any time In the past twenty years. Secretary W. A. Hunter, Worcester County, Mass., in American Cultivator. Memorandum Eook, When writing to the various fertlli zer and Implement concerns ask them for a free memorandum book, and use these handy little volumes for jotting down the odd Jobs whenever you think of them. Then re-arrange the jobs so they can be taken up when there is a chance and put through to the beet ad vantage. Pay special attention to Items that can be done on stormy days; put them by themselves, and see mat the materials and tools are ready In advance. Work that can be done on stormy days and In the even Ing hours seems like clear gain to the ambitious farmer. American Cultlva tor. Flues For Barns. Every barn should have a system of flues, or, if they are to. expensive, cot ton windows, More trouble of garget and udder disease results from sudden drafts than from any other causes, In the outgoing flue the area should be In proportion to the number of cows, about ono square foot to a cow, and should be opened at the top of the barn. Inside tho barn the opening in summer should be up high and in win ter lower down. The incoming flues should have the same area, but there should be more of them, necessarily making them smaller. The air should come In from the outside near the sills, and to tho bam from under the eaves. Prof. H. E. Cook, in the American Cultivator. A Method of Preserving Eggs. Using as a theory that an egg decom poses owing, to the entrance of bac teria through the shells, an English firm has adopted a method of preserv ing eggs by first disinfecting them fl.nd then immersing them in a vessel of hot paraffins in a vacuum. Tho air In the shell Is extracted by a vacuum and at mospheric pressure Is then allowed to entor the vessel, and the hot wax is pressed into the pores of the shell, which thus hermetically seals it. Evap oration of the contents of tho egg. which has a harmful effect, is thereby prevented, and the egg Is practically sterile. The yolk of pickled eggs and others artificially preserved will fre quently break on being poached, but the eggs preserved by this novel pro cess, It is stated, are quite free from such fault. American Cultivator. Spade the Yards. Spading up tho yards is more im portant in summer than in winter, but as the cold weather sets in, the yards begin to flatten or harden prohibiting any moisture, waste food, refuse litter and droppings from becoming incorpor ated in the soil, and there must be seme means of sotting rid to this un healthy condition. When the ground is allowed to get In a filthy condition, the fowls become susceptible to diseases of all natures, and it is them that the loss commences. Spade up the yards and scatter lime over the surface of the ground. Lime prevents gapes, roup and cholora and also serves as a disinfectant. Of course' If the ground is frozen, to dig up the dirt will be impossible, but the yards can be cleaned nnd fresh dirt and Ut ter added at .least twice a week. Farm and Fireside. Care of the Horse. The horso blanket should always be ready to use afier a hard drive, for a horse will chill vey quickly if left standing In a cold wind. Forgetting to take the blanket along has caused many a horse to develop lung trouble that no veterinarian has been able to cure. The shoes are carefully looked af ter by every experienced horseman. The horse that is to be kept in the barn much of the time in winter should be guarded against becoming soft. Some farmers try to save money by feeding their idle horses in hay dur ing the period of slack work. The result is that they begin work in the spring with soft muscles and little en ergy. Some grain should be given during aTi the win-tor, enough to keep the muscles in good form. Exercise is absolutely necessary to keep a horse in good trim, and there is no system of feeding that can be developed that will carry a horse through an idle winter and Into spring with good, firm, mus cles. Farmers' Home Journal. Lime On Tobacco Land. Sow lime on your land at least every two years, if nod every year, to try and Imagine how many grains of soil It will help to disintegrate, making the soil finer and the plant food more read ily taken up, to make the stalk strong, so that it may be more able to bear the load of the loaf that you expect to be grown upon It. I don't believe that the plant will use more of the lime ithan Is needed to make a good healthy growth, and a leaf that will bear slight approach to good burning qual ities. Don't be afraid to use lime or ashes on any of your soils, for every bushel you use will help In making your soils finer, thus aiding each and every kind of plant to make a more perfect growth. Try to grow a little more grass and hay or good fodder to In. crease the dimensions of your manure piles for stable manure not only grows fine crops, but It helps through Its chemical processes to tear holes Into every grain of sand It comes against It has been said that salt applied to wheat will prevent It from lodging down, not perhnps because the saline moss enters Into the plant, but) the salt rusts so many of the sand grains that much of It Is taken up and formed aroundi the outside, thus making the glazing thicker therefore jiving the straw or stalk more stiffness to resist the 'action of nature in the form of wind and storm. C. R. Crafts in the American Cultivator. Special Uses for Cement. A sack of portland cement Is a very useful thing to have for making quick repairs. A hole In a drain pipe cair be stepped in a few minutes with a little cement mixed- with water thick as put ty. A crack In a barrel can be stopped this way. Hardwood floors may be patched and nail holes filled so that will not) leak. A waterproof floor can be alld over an old floor in a short time. Sweep the old floor clean and dry and nail down the loose boards. Cover with a layer of heavy wire netting, tacking It down oc caslcnally. Over this lay a layer of concrete of one part portland cement, throe pants clean sand, mixed with water to a thin paste. Smooth thoroughly, but It is to be used by stock brush with an old broom to make it rough, then let lb dry thor oughly before using the floor. Gutters n.a.y be put in where necessary. Holes In an old shingled roof can be quickly stopped by forcing a little cement put ty through tho shingle where the leak appears. Some special uses to which cement is being put are the making of bee hives, brick for pavement and ordin ary foundations, cement shingles for roofing, grain bins in the form of square box-like and round barrel-like receptacles, etc The use of this excel lent material for farm structures is only just opaning up, and It is destined to became the most important material for general farm building. Ameri can Cultivator. Farm Notes. Early spring calves pay best because they are ready for market before the prices go down. Good men are still hard to obtain, but there is a fair supply of the In experienced, easy-going sort. Onloms are kept best In a dry loft so arranged that the air can circulate among them. Cold hurts them but little. Da careful about the commission houoe that offers higher prices than the regMlar market, ft may 'be all right and it may not. Mixing three grades of apples as a price getter is a back .number. You will always get tho price of the lowest grade for all throe. Good farm hands are scarce, bnt farmers have to put up with it by us ing bettor machinery and exchanging help with their neighbors. The Wlnesap is one of the best mar ket apples for our Southern mountain region. It has the advantage of being at home and requires no adaptation. A healthy, clean cow in a clean barn, milked by a clean man into clean uten sils and immediately cooled and kept cool Is the secret of our present supply of clean, certified milk. If you want good seed buy from dealers who regard their reputation. If farmers and gardeners will adopt this rule generally there will soon be less complaint about bad seeds. To prevent moisture collecting in the henhouse we pack the space between the roof and the rafters with fine straw. The straw takes up much ot. the moisture and helps keep the house dry. "The Queen's Quair." a certain dinner party, a well At known writer who was present was asked by one of the company what ho thought of Mr. Maurice Hewlett's novel, "The Queen's. Quair." "Don't you think that the author was a little er improper in "The Queeu's Quair?" was the question. The gen tleman thus interrogated pointed out that the manners and morals of the time fully Justified Mr. Hewlett's work. and the conversation was changed to other topics. When the dinner was nearly over a mild-looking gentleman sitting next to the writer whispered, I beg your pardon, Mr. , but what did Mr. Hewlett do in Queen'a Square?" M. A. P. Chicago the Great Skunk Market.. Chicago is the greatest skunk fur market In the world, and in fact some authorities assert that the word Chi cago is a corruption of an Indian word meaning skunk. Chicago Tribune. HEW STRENGTH FOR WOMElTf BAD BACKS. - Women who suffer with backache, bearing dowa pain, dizziness and that constant dull, tired feeling, will find comfort In the ad vice of Mrs. James T. WrlgU, of 611 Ooldsborough St., Easton, Md., who says: "My back was In a very bad way, and when not painful was so weak it felt as If broken. A friend urged me to try Doan's Kidney Pills, which I did, and they helped me from the start. It made me feel like a new woman, an soon I was doing my work the same as ever." Sold by all dealers. 50 cents a box. Foster-Mllburn Co., Buffalo, N. T. RELICS OF TITIAN FOUND. Will and Other Documents of Artist Held by Poor Widow. Berlin. Titian's will and other rel ics of the great artist have been dis covered in the possession of a poor widow at Schonberg, a suburb of this city. There are 43 documents, all of which have been pronounced authen tic. Besides the will which covers eight pages, there is another interesting document, a letter written by the Em peror Charles V. to Titian, Informing him that he has been enobled, under the title of Count of the Oberpfalz, and that certain curious privileges have been conferred upon him. This letter Is countersigned by Titian him self. What A Woman Will Not Do. ThAro it ntl,l . 1,1 . J. u. uu.. ,1.1,4 T""iru nuillu UUI UU U rcRaln her lost beauty . Bhe ought to be fully" as zealous In preserving hor good lookv 1 ha l,n.K A .i ,.1. ..11. T ..' v 11 w... u,i,,v ,,(.... .i unuoB fnuiiiy JUOUt olne or Lane's Tea is the most effMent aid In Preserving a beautiful skin, and will do more lan anything else to restore the roses to faded checks. At all druggists and deal ers, 250. Encourage Rat Killers. The Jananese eovarnment to wnclmr a successful war on rats by paying ior every aeaa one Brought in and giving each rat slayer a ticket to t luuery wun vaiuaoie prizes. To Break In New Shoes. v Alwavs shake in Allen's Fnnt-Eiuut powder. It cures hot, sweating, acluW,' swollen feet, corns, ingrowing nails ana bunions. All druggists and shoe stores, 25c. Don't accent an vsubRtltntA. R(unnlnmli free. Allen 8. Olmsted, Le Roy, N. Y. 12 An Orgy of Sound. If we can believe the German ad. mlrers of Richard Strauss, the com poser, his new opera, "Electra," Is not only the latest thing in art, but exemplifies In the most advanced de gree the music of the future. Inci dentally, we are told that the "Elec tra" orchestra, Includes eight French hours, seven trumpets, an E flat clar inet, two Basset horns and a some what unusual Instrument of aural tor ture called the heckelphone. It also appears that the bass, drum is at times brutally hammered with a birch club, and a Chinese gong Is the subject of a cruel assault at the hands of the wlelder of the triangle rod. It Is not surprising to learn that with these accessions the music is likened at tlmeg to an orgy of noise in which the human voice vain ly endeavors to make itself heard. The instruments shriek, and they wall, and then they crash in a roof raising cyclone of unshackled sound. The 200 critics who were present at the first performance appear to have left the royal theater in Dresden dazed and more or less stunned. One of the best known of these critics, the music editor of the Dresden An zeiger, a paper which Is understood to be under municipal control, Is said to have forfeited his position by nis scoffing references to the Strauss work, and forbidden entry to the roy al theater. Naturally, the Dresden music lovers are divided into two classes, Strauss and anti-Strauss, and the violent squabble over the Wag ner music of forty years ago, threat ens to be duplicated. If this prodigality of noise Is really to be the music of the future,' the unaccustomed human tympanum will require strengthening and thoughen lnlng as well as schooling. But the Wagner music was finally assimilat ed and the old accusation of boister ous dissonance la rarely heard. Per haps It will be the same way with Strauss. DIDN'T REALIZE How Injurious Coffee Really Was. Many persons go on drinking coffee year after year without realizing that it Is the cause of many obscure but persistent ailments. The drug caffeine In coffee and tea, Is very Lite uric acid, and Is of ten the cause ot rheumatic attacks which, when coffee is used habitually, become chronic. A Washington lady said recently: "I am sixty-five and have had a good deal of experience with coffee. I consider It very injurious and the cause of many diseases. I am sure it causes decay ot teeth In children. "When I drank coffee I had sick spells and still did not realize that coffee could be so harmful, till about ' a year ago I had rheumatism In my arms and fingers, got so nervous I could not sleep and was all run down. "At last, after finding that medi cines did me no good, I decided to quit coffee entirely and try Postum. After using It six months I fully re covered my health beyond all expec tations, can sleep sound and my rheu matism Is all gone." "There's a Rea son." Name given by Postum Co., Battle Creek, Mich. Read the famous little book. "The Road to WellvUle," la pkgs. Ever read the above letter? A. new one appears from time to time. They are genuine, trme, and fall of human Interest.