Tho President of Brown University advocates taking children at 2} years old and educating them in public kin dergartens. The New Ycrk Advertiser alleges that in the West there aro largo rooms wholly papered with mining stocks that have proved worthless. Corn is being very generally used as fuel in Central lowa, tho farmers claiming that tho prevailing price would not pay the cost of husking and marketing. Tho pastor of the Congregational Church at Flint, Mich., proposes to run an opposition to the saloons by opening his church as a sort of club houso on that tho farmers and others may have a place te meet and warm themselves. Imprisonment for debt seems to bo becoming common once more in Eng land, especially in the mining and manufacturing districts, 7628 persons having been eont to jail for that cause in 1894, while 7775 were sentenced for all varieties of crime. New York, Pennsylvania and New Jersey pay larger salaries to tbeir Governors than any other States in the Union. The Governor's salary in each of the three States named is 810,- 000 a year. New York also provides an executive mansion for her Governor to live in. A scandal in English naval affairs is the bad treatment of boys on certain men-of-war. Several have so badlv self-mutilated themselves by slashing or biting their muscles or making themselves deaf with salt in the ears that they have had to leave the ser vice, which was tb<- object they strove to attain. Ex-Governor Shepherd says that eighty per cent, of the persons he saw tilling the fields in Germany last sum mer were women. The men were for the most part in the army, and splendid soldiers they make, accord ing to Mr. Shepherd, who saw 4000 of them marching through the streets of Berlin. They remind him of the Western troops Shorman led up Pennsylvania avenue at tho close of the war, "If William ever lets his war dogs slip at tho hosts of France there won't be anything left of tho latter," says Governor Shepherd. But there are others who think differently after looking at the Frenoh troops. A writer in the Outlook says that some years ago a friend of his wrote a short story which a magazine accepted and paid SSO for. Tho years wont by and the story still rested snugly in the safe. Meanwhile the author of tho tnlo had become an industrious man of letters and had achieved some little reputation. Ho one day met the edi tor, whom he had come to know, and aßked him when ho intended to print that story. The editor replied that he could not toll, but probably not in tho immediate future. Tho writer went home and thought the thing over, and then asked the editor for the privilege of buying the story back. The editor assenting to this, tho au thor gave him SSO and received back bis story, He read it over, made a few minor changes in it, put a new title to it, had it typewritten, and then sent it back to tho editor of tho same magazine from whom ho had just bought it. In a short time oame a check for $l5O and a call from an il lustrator who had received an assign ment to make pictures for i* iho editor intended to publish l iu. redi ately. Miss Lilian Bell, tho clever Chicago authoress, prints rather a caustio view of "The Man Under Thirty-Five" in tho Ladies' Home Tournal. She assorts that conversation with a man under thirty-five "is impossible, because the man under thirty-five never con versos ;ho only talks. And your chief accomplishment, of being a good lis tener, is entirely thrown away on him, bocause he docs not in the least care whether you listen or not. Neither is it of any use for you to show that ho has surprised or shocked you. He cares not for your approval or disapproval. He is uttorly indif ferent to you, not becauso you do not please him, but bocause he has not teen you at all. He knows you aro there in that chair; ho bows to you in the street, oh, yes! He knows your name and where you live. But you are only an entity 10 him, not an in dividual. He cares not for your likes and dislikes, your cares, or hopes, or feurs. Ho only warns you to be pretty and woll dressed. Havo a mind if you will. He will not know it. Havo a heart and a soul. They do not con cern him. He wants you to be tailor made. You are a girl to him. That's all." THE SUMMER OF THE HEART. For all tho wintry flakes ol frost it's summer time somewhere— Violets in tho valleys, bird songs in the air; Tho chilly winds have only blown the lily' Hps apart It's summer in the world, my dear, and summer in the heart! For all the gray skies glooming it's summer in tho dells— In tho merry song of reapers, in the tink ling of the bell; The swoet south-skies are brightening as with springtime's magic art— liut tho sweetest summer, dearest, is tho summer in tho heart! Still, still tho birds are sinuring, and still the groves are green; And still the roses redden, and tho loyal lilies lean; Love fades not with the season, when sum mer days depart, It's summer still, my dearest, in tho Eden of tho heart! F. L. Stanton. "A Nlc'riiOY^ HE lives in a V Indies' club," con tinned I)iok, look lug down at bis tVv "How nice!" t*?al si " llec ' his sister, y jp* and forgot her im- V ' J/jjjjjj mediate hatred of , . ho loJ y '• ques "There's a beastly little buttons who thinks him self somebody, and ho says he can't show me upstairs because it isn't guest day. Like to know when guest day is? I'm sure I've tried every day in the week, too."' "I fancy you have," she murmured. "I thought, perhaps," said Dick, without heeding her comment, "that we might do a tkeutre one might, just we three, don't you know. Kit? She wants to know you awfully," ho added quito as au afterthought. "Ob, yes," said Kit sceptically, "they all do. Will she go In the pit. though?" Her brother jumped out of his chair and said something not very softly. "What's the matter? Have I done anything?" osked Kit in rather a harsh tone. "Did you say pit?" shouted Dick, wratlifully, "I take Pauline in the jiit? Pauliue?" "Well, you always take mo in the pit, and I generally pay my share," complained his sister, taking an in creased interest in her embroidery; "but, of course, I am not Pauline." Dick, being at the stage whon a man does not analyze any remarks except mado by the one person, was a little mollified, and sat down again. "No," ho said gravely, "no, you'ro not; and you haven't met her, either." "I have taken a box at the Hay market for Thursday oveuing," said Diok presently, in rather a strained voice. He was lighting a cigar as he mado this announcement, and ho wasted two or three matches in the attempt and began talking about Bryant and May without the loast oc casion for it. Kit dropped her em broidery on the floor and stared at him. "A box, Dick?" "Yes, a box, Kit! You aro very touchy, you aro, this evening. 1 was going to ask you to come, too," ho wont on in an absent way us if lie were thinking about something else. "Yes, you will want a chaperon, of course," said Kit. "Who else is coming, Dick?" "Who else?—eh, what?—who else? Why, Pauline, of course; I've told yon that already, Kit." "But besides Pauline?" she said patiently. "Ob, I don't know. That's cnou"h isn't it?" "I've no doubt that will bo onough for you, but I don't want to sit by my self nil tho evoning. You'll have to ask Chorlie Weymouth, too." "Ob, I enn't ask Charlie Woy mouth," said Dick, with groat dignity "we've had a row." "That doesn't matter. You're always having rows, but they're never of tho least importance. You ask him, Dick, or else I shan't go," and Kit spoko decisively. If there was any capital to be mado out of the situation she meant to make it. "But Pauline's coming," said Dick in a surprised tone, "and she really wants to know—" "Yes, I've hoard that before," said Kit, impatiently. "I moan, of course, I want to see her, too, Dick, but it will bo all tho nicer for you if I have somebody to talk to. I'll tell Charlie to come. Good-night; I'm coin" to bed." When sho got into her room she took her brother's photogrnph off tho table and stroked it with her finger, with a queer little frown on her faoe. Then sho jerked it back again to its proper place aud went and stood by tho open window and looked at the street lamps until a hansom cab rattled past with a man anil a girl in sido in evening dress. Then she shiverod a littlo and laughed at herself and went back to the room which she had just left. "Dick, I'm awfully afraid I wasn't a bit sympathetic," she bogan abrupt ly- Dick hastily thrust somothing into his breast pocket nml dropped two letters ond mado a plunge alter them uudor the table, "What's the row?" ho said crossly, coming up again with a rod face. "I wish you wouldn't disturb a chap so suddenly. Ido like a woman to move about quietly. What's tho good of being a woman if .you can't do that? What do you want?" "Ob, nothing; I forgot my book," said Kit, and went away without it. On tho day after this conversation Dick met Charlie Wcymonth in the Strand about 8 o'clook in the evoning. Dick's mind was occupied with one subject only at that instant, so when Weymouth smote him on tho shoulder and said, "Hullo, Dick!" it took him some moments to collect his thoughts sufficiently to reply in a suitable man ner. "Good businoss!" ho said joyfully; "just the man I wanted to see." Ilis remark was not sololy prompted by tho exigencios of tho moment, though Charlie Weymouth thought it was, and smiled cynically. Dick hailed a hansom and bade tho driver take them to a restaurant. "Got something to toll you, Charlie, so como and have a chop," ho began, as carelessly as possible. Weymouth lighted a cigar and smiled cynically again. It was not difficult to play the cynic to Dick's confidence. "You need not tell mo much, my boy; it's written all ovor your face," ho said, dryly. "Who is she, eh?" Dick pushed his hat on tho back of his head and smiled savagolv. "Oh, of course; thoro nevor is any news to toll you. You always do know everything before you aro told, don't you? Perhaps you can better tell me? Oh, go on; don't mind mo. I sup poso Kit told you tho rest as well, didn't she?" "She told mo about tho box, yes. I'm coming on Thursday, of course. Now, who is she, please? Kit said her name is I'auline, but that's ell she said." Dick was quite suro at that moment that thero was only one Pauline in the world, but he explained that her sec ond namo was Duncombe. "Duncombe? Paulino Duucombe? Oh!" said the other slowly. "You'll soo her on Thursday, and then you wou't wonder I was struck," Dick rattled on, happily. "I met her at the Academy conversations, you know. By Jove, isn't her 'Queen of Skeba' strong! Have you soon it? Cau'; think what she sees in me. Ac tually asked mo to point out my pict ure to her, uud didn't say a" word about its being skied, and said there was tone in it? Have you got the cheek to say a woman can't criticise ? But you don't moan to say yon haven't heard of her? Pauline Dunoorabe? Why, all the world's talking about her picture. It's the hit of the season," Dick wont on until ho found that his companion was not listening and that his cigar had gone out. "You're as bad as Kit," ho grum bled. "I never can get any one to listen to me for five minutes together. Wait until you see her, that's all." "I needn't wait, old man. I know her slightly by repute already. I have seen her, too. Is it really Pauline Duncombe?" "That's what I'm always asking my self," said Dick, with a contented laugh. Weymouth drow away his hand abruptly. "Here wo are," ho said, and paid cabman in spite of Dick's remon strances. "This is my show,"ho said, when they had selected a table in the rostaurant. "What for?" said Dick, hotly. "I asked you to come and dino with mo. You think you're all there because you're going to walk on in the new piece next week. What on earth are you doing it for" "Because . I made you como hero," said Weymouth, quietly, but ho need not have trouble to explain, for Dick was staring straight at a table in the opposite corner of the room. "Wo will havo some soup," added Charlio to tho waiter who was linger ing for their order. "It's warm in here," ho went on, selecting a sar dine. "It's Pauline!" said Dick, softly, still staring at tho distant tablo. "Yes? Not alouo, surely? Ah— no." "Father, I suppose," said Dick, making a feint of swallowing some SOU)). "Oh, no, 1 should think not," said his companion, with tho usual smile. "That's nob her father. That's tho Duke." "Duke? What Duko?" asked Dick, resentfully. "The soup is not so good as usual. What Duke? Oh, tho ouo she always dines with hero. Thoysaid they wore engaged. Seems probable, as sho is a decent girl enough." When they had got thoir fish, Wey mouth turned onoo more to Dick. "Cheer up, old man I You've only seen her once or twice, and you're well out of it. If you weren't such a maiden, this sort of thing would have happened to you before. It won't do you any harm, anyway. I'll got a fourth for Thursday, and stand sup per afterwards. Ah—havo somo Chablis." But Dick had pushed back his chair, nnd motioned to tho astonished waiter for his hat and stick. His face was rather set, but otherwise ho did not scorn disturbed, and ho smiled as ho held out his hand. "I'm afraid I can't wait any long er. I promised Kit not to be late. If yon really menu you oau't como on Thursday we'll get some oueelso, only lot mo know in time, won't you? Goodby." Charlie watchod him, and forgot to curl his lip as ho saw him make a do liberate circuit of the room in order to pass close by the table in the oppo site cornor. "Who's the boy who bowedtoyou?" asked tho Duke. "Oh! that's Dick Hallett, a nice boy I met at Burlington House the other night, and havo seen onoe or j twice sinoe. He'll paint rather well j some day, but he wants a lot of toach i ing. We're going to the theatre one I evening, Wednesday, I think; I ex pect it means upper boxes or some- I thing awful. Ho's a nice boy. Are you going to be jealous?" "Depends on who is going to do the caching," said the Duke. "Pauline's not been altogether a success, do you think?" said Wey mouth to his companiou, as they waited for a cab after the performance at the Haymorket on the fsllowiug Thursday. "What do you mean? I like her," said Kit, whether from conviction, or from loyalty to Dick it would be hard to sav. "Ob, yes; she's delightful," said Charlie, who never allowed himself to bo snubbed for a moment, "but she's not going to marry Dick for all that." Kit drow her hand abruptly out of his arm. "Can't you see further than that?" she said scornfully. "It's Diolc who doesn't want her any jnore. Per haps you know what changed him? I don't." In another hansom, hurrying in the direction of Maida Vale, Dick Hallett was developing the situation he had made for hismself three nights ago at dinnor. When a man has spout all his life in boiug afraid of unimportant people, such as shopmen and post ofilce girls, it is difficult for him to re alize that he is expected to take the initiative with tho woman he loves. Yet this is what Dick was forcing him self to do as the hansom rolled along to Maida Vale, and Paulino Duucoiubo sat by his side. "I don't believo you like mo to lec ture you on your work," said Pauliuo, breaking off suddenly in a dissertation on method, whioh she had merely be gun byway of filling nn awkward pause. There had been many awk ward pauses that evening, and to Paul ino Duncombe they appeared in tho light of a novel experience. "Oh, I don't mind in the least," said Diok, candidly; "you see, you know Jevcr so much moro than I do about painting." "Only about painting?" sho cried, piqued. Dick thought oa refnlly. "I'm not sure," he said, and ho looked straight in front of him at the rain triokliug down tho glass. "That's evasivo," sho said, shrug ging her shoulders ; and sho repeated her question, "only about painting?" "Ob, perhaps not," ho replied in differently. "What else, then?" "It doesn't matter, does it?" "What else, I say?" "How can 1 tell you what I don't know myself?" persisted Diok, and imagined that he was going to silence her. "Why do I ask you, if I know al ready?" "Well, I don't think you need ex actly?" he said, with simple directness, whilo sho tappod hor fan angrily against tho window ledge. "How insufferably sorious you are this evening," she said contemptu ously. "I'm very sorry," said Diok; "what do you want me to do?" "To bo liko you were the other evening," sho answered quickly. Diok drow in his breath and looked oqt tho sido window. "I'm afraid I can't," ho said. "Why not?" "Because it isn't tho other even ing." "No," cried Paulino in a mocking tone; "thero isn't your picture to talk about, nor your aspirations, nor tho sistor you wanted me to meet." "No, I don't wo will talk about those any moro. Aro you tired ? Wo aro noarly there." "Yes, and you are glad, aren't you?" "Oh, no," assurod Dick; "I am not in the least bit tirod." Sho loaned baok in hor corner and tried being disconsolate. "I don't know what has oomo over you," sho said with a sigh in hor voico, "and I had so looked forward to this ovoning." "Had you? Yes, it would be a chango for you," said Dick with a laugh. "I don't often get auy fun," she wont on, without heodiug tho insinua t:on. "I am all alone in tho world, and people are not ofton kind. It was tho kindness in your face the oth er night—" "Shall we have tho glass up?" said tho inexorable Dick. "It's stopped raining, and it's so stutTy." "As you like," sho said, and the weariness in her voice was roal. "I don't much care what happens, if you aro going to be like all the rest." "Then there are plonty more," thought Dick, bitterly. But ho was finding it rather hard to hug his griev ance. "Why are you so strange this ovon mg?" asked tho complaiuing voice at his side. "Ob, I'm all right. You needn't bother me," bo said, brusquoly. "Horo wo aro, at last." She said nothing while he dismissed the cabman and followod her up tho steps. "Aro they waiting for you, or—" "No; I have a koy," slio said, aud held it out to him ; and as he took it she caught his iingors in hors, au l broke out passionately : "Dick, what have I done to make you so unkind ? How dare you treat mo thus? What have I done, Dick? What havo I done ?" "I am not unkind, Paulino," ho said, in a perfectly spiritless tone, and drew the key and his hand away and unlocked tho door for her. For a moment they stood together in the shadow of the portico. "No, I don't beliovo yon arc," sho said uudor her breath; "you despise me. Oh, yes; you despiso me." And then, Beized with another paroxysm of anger, she cried: "Who are you, to judge me like this? Do you know that if I like, to-morrow I could?—" "Marry a duke? Oh, yes; I know," ho said, and stood aside to let her pass. "No," she said, stamping her foot in tho hall within, nnd bewitching him all over again by her mere per sonality. "No! You were a little too quiok that time, Diok. Not marry a Duke ; but why not refuse one! Au revoir!" He sprang into the hall just as th 9 door was closing and caught her in his arms. "Paulino! One moment. What an awful ass I've been ! But to see you dining with him, when I had believed in you so thoroughly; and to find that every one else had known it; and, Pauline—" "What a thing it is to be a good boy!" sho said, with a pout. Diok bestowed somothing in tlio neighbor hood of the pout that dispelled it, and sprang back into the cold again, while she slowly shut the door. "I have dined with him lots of times," she said through the chink; "and I've no doubt he thinks now—" "What?" shouted Diok, furiously, although the policeman was within hearing. "What I shall tell him to-morrow is all nonsonse," she said softly, and shut the door in his face. "Did you go on tettohing that nice boy of yours last night?" asked the Duke, whon he strolled into her studio the next afternoon. "No," said Pauline, measur'ug her modePa chin with her brush; "no. He's a nicer boy than I thought. And he's been teaching me." The Duke looked as though ho found this piece of information rather disquieting. "Anyhow, you'll come and dine to-night?" he said, a little sulkily. "To-night? Lot 1110 soo—to-night —oh, I can't. I'm going to havo a high tea with Dick and his sister." "Good heavens! High tea with a man's sister!" "yes," said Paulino, with a peal of laughter. "Do you know, I roally be lieve it is going to bo serious this time. I always told you ho was anico boy!"— St. Paul's. WISEWOIt!>.S, When the last sunshine of expiring day in summer twilight creeps itself away, who hath not felt the softness of tho hour sink on tho heart—as dew along tho ilower?—Byron. Tho press was not granted by mon archs; it was not gained for us by aristocracies; but it sprang from tbo people, aud,with au immortal instinot, it has always worked for tho people.— Disraeli. Tho great high road of human wol faro lies along tho highway of stead fast well-doing, and they who are tho most persistent and work in tho truest spirit will invariably bo tho most suc cessful.—S. Smiles. Who swerves from innocence, who makes disuse of that soreno compan ion, a good name, recovors not his loss; but walks with shame, with doubt, with fear, and haply with re morse. —Wordsworth. It is a high, solemn, almost awful, thought for every individual man that his earthly infiueuco, which has had a commencement, will never, through all ages, were he tho very meanest of us, havo au end.—Carlylo. It is no man's business whether ho has genius or not; work ho must, what ever ho is, but quietly and steadily; and tho natural and unforced results of such work will bo always tho thing God nicaut him to do, and will be his best.—Ruskiu. Though we do nothiug, Time keeps his constant pace, and Hies as fast in idleness as in employment. Au hour of vice is as long as an hour of virtue. But tho difference which follows upon good actions is inliuito from that of ill ones.—Feltham. It is in tho most part in our skill in manners, and in tho observance of time and place, aud of deconcy in gen eral, that what is called taste consists; and which is in reality no other than a more refined judgment. Tho cause of a wrong taste is a dofoct of judg ment. —Burke. Old Tom Logan's Jest. Old Tom Logau, who stood at tho head of tho Orogou bar for a great many years, was an inveterate wag as well us a most brilliant and able lawyer. Most of tho anecdotes told of Logan's court room oncouutors will not bear publication, but hero is one that will: One day Logan was arguing a caso before Chief Justico Greene, of tho Supremo Court of what was at that timo tho Territory of Washington; opposed to him was a backwoods lawyer no mod Browne. Logau con tinually referred to tho counsel on tho other side as though his name were spelled "Browuy," to tho evident annoyance of that gentleman. At last tho Judge interfered, remark ing : "Mr, Logan, tho gentleman's name is spelled 'B-r-o-w-n-e,* and is pro nounced 'Brown,' not 'Browny.' Now, my numo is spelled 'G-r-o-o-n-o,' but you would not prououueo it 'Greeny,' would you?" "That," replied Logau, gravely, but with a inerry twinkle in his eye, "de ponds entirely on how your Honor decides this case." —New York Mail uQd Express. Latest Feat in Photography. Photography has had many triumphs. One of tho latest is associated with the name of Professor Mucoy, famous for his feats iu iustautauoous work. Ho has just succeeded in photographiug a dragon fly on the wing—an oporatiou which necessitated an exposure of only one-iwonty-fivo-thousandth of a sec ond. Tho photographic part of tho performance is wonderful enough, aud surtrly, as the Photogram says, some credit should bo awarded to tho man capable of accurately dividing a second in 25,000 parts. Certainly a man who can compute tho twenty-five thousandth part of a second can com pute anything. —Westminster Gazette. CULTURE OF OXNSENO. Ginseng has not been successfully grown under ordinary cultivation. It is of so wild u nature that whon re moved from the natural beds in tho woods it refuses to grow, just as some wild animals refu6o to eat in confine ment, and starve. It may, however, bo propagated by culture in woodland of the right kind, that is, with a moist soil, shaded by a northern exposure, and having a good dopth of block veg etable soil. It grows from cuttings of the roots with ease, but so far the sowing of the seed has not been found successful. It may bo, however, thnt by choosing the right soil nnd locality, the seed will grow.—New York Times. THE COLT'S TEETH. Tn tho colt the incisor aud the firs! throe molars on each jaw are always temporary and replaced by permanent teeth sometime during fbo animal's life. 'The last three molars areulways permanent and are never replaced. The teeth muko their appearance ns follows: The two middlo inoisors nnd the first three molars rnako their np pearnnco before or somo days after birth, the first laterals four or six weeks aftor birth, secoud lnterals, or corner tooth, six or nine months after birth, tho fourth molar (first perma nent ones) is cut at from ten to twelvo months of age. At two and ono-half years tho mid dlo incisors and the first and second molars are replaced. At tho same time the fifth molar is cut. At three and one-half the first lateral incisors nnd tho third molar are replaced. At four nnd ono-half tho corner teeth are re placed, and tho sixth molar is cut. In case of a mnlo tho canine teeth are also replaced nt four aud one-half,— Farm, Field and Firesido. rnOFIT IN BREEDING SOWS. After every largo corn crop there is alwuys a brisk demand for young pigs tho following spring. Farmers who hnvo witnessed many such times in their lives always cnloulato to savo a goodly number of breeding sows to be mated early in December, and farrow tho last of March or first of April. The poriod of gestation in a sow is about Bixteen weeks, though it sometimes overruns that two or three days. Whether pork is cheap or dear, breed ing sows will always bo a source of profit whon their pigs are sold while still smull. Tho most rapid growth of tho pig, and that which costs tho loast, is mado beforo it is 100 pounds weight. Such pigs will also sell for more por pound than those that aro larger. It is not uncommon whon pigs are dear for purchasers to pay very nearly ns muoh for tho growing pig us it will sell for when fnttenod. The sow that is bearing pigs will also irll for much more than her vnluo for por'r. The largo, coarse sows are best for lireoding, but thoy should be mated with a small and line bonod boar. By thus broeding tho pigs will bo kopt easily, and grow to n larger sizo than pigs that nro puro bred on both sidos. —Boston Cultivator. A CASE OF MILK FEVER. The symptoms of milk fevor aro as follows: The nnimal suddenly be oomos unable to stand, and lies in great pniD, moaning; in a short time the pain increases until tho animal bocomes frautic, dashing tho head from side to side, sometimes broaking tho horns, and bruising tho face ser iously. Thou stupor ocours, and tho animal lies with tho head on the flank, tho neck being stiff aud rigid. It oc curs about the second day nftor calv ing, and comos on (suddenly, without auy warning. If the third day after calving passes without an attack the cow will escape or rocovor, but death Ukuully occurs tho third day ufter the attack. Tho treatment is to apply pounded ice in bags to tho head and neck, to place plenty of soft straw about tho animal, especially about the head; to give a powerful purgative, as two pounds of Epsom salts, with hulf an ounce of carbonate of ammonia, and tho samo of nux vomica. The body should be covered with sheets soukod aud kopt wet with oold water, the water boing permitted to ruu under tho body. When there is no frenzy, tho ioo to tho head is not needed. As soon as tho bowels operate freely danger is passed. This disease is most frequent with oows either in poor or too high condition, and per fect quiotness nnd very light feeding for a few days before the oalving will generally prevent it. For this reason it is advisable for every dairy to havo a rotired, half dark, quiet place in which to keep tho cows for a few days boforo and three days after calving. With moderate feeding before this oc currence, and this quiotness, this dis ease very rurely happens.—Now York Times. INFECTIOUS DISEASES AMONG POULTRY. Borne valuable investigations of these have been made by tho United States bureau of animal industry (Dr. Theobald Smith and Dr. V. A. Moore). The importance of the poultry in dustry, and tho heavy losses occasioned by disease among fowls, warrant a continuance of this work. The present bullotin (No. 8 of tho bureau) confirms what has previously appeared in our columns concerning an infectious bowel diseaso among turkeys. No effective remedy has yet been found, though disinfection is urged of all quarters where any diseased birds have been kept. The best solution is one ouuco of corrosive snblirnato in eight gallons of wator, applied with a broom or mop, after standing twonty four hours. It is very poißouous, aud loses its virtue in proportion to the amount of dirt present, henoe the house, woodwork, etc., should be olennod boforo npplying the disinfect ant, and the manure covered with lime. The report contains an inter esting paper on throe outbreaks of fowl cholera and a hog-cholera-liko disease in pigeons. The most importunt fcaturo is the report on diphtheria in fowls. Dr. Moore holds thnt the so-called fowl roup, influenza, and sometimes cholera, nre one and tho same. In tho onrly stages of this disease, tho exudations ure frequently of a serous or mucous character, and often fowls dio before tho diphtheritic condition appears. The disease usually runs a slow, chronic course, from which the majority of afflicted fowls recover, although it may run a rapid, fatal course. Treatment consists lurgoly in disinfecting tho preinisos, lotting in sunlight, and giving tho fowls plenty of exercise, pure drinking water, dry quarters nud a good food ; also in re moving the mucus in advanced stages. This trouble can probably be pre vented entirely by such sanitary methods, if precautions are token not to introduce the disease by buying affected fowls. Tho diphthoria germ in fowls is in no way like that in man, nut it is claimed to bo possiblo for diphtheritic fowls to transmit the dis ease to children, and vico versa. This diseuso is not to bo confounded with true fowl cholera.—Americun Agricul turist. A NEW PEEP PLANT. One of the new plants about which there has been considerable inquiry of lato is cassava, a plant which grows chiefly in tho West ladies and Africa. The plint closely resemblos tho cas tor bean ; tho loaf is like that of tho bean, but not so large. The seeds form a smooth pod, aud, when ripe, resemblo the castor beau seed, though hardly so largo nor dark. They ripen in about eleven months. Tho stalk will stand thirty-two de grees of cold, and where tho mercury does not fall lower than this will live and grow for years. If tho soil is rich, and it has sufficient distance, it will grow almost to a troe in one year. Tho Southorn Cultivator gives tho following description of tho plant: A cultivated field of this queer shrub looks like a nursery of young poach trees. Tho plant grows about five feet high, tho stem of each being iso lated, with a few long, pointod leaves at the top, and a bud or projecting nucleus of a sprout at noarly every iuch of tho otherwise nearly naked stem. Dig down a bit, and-you will find a cluster of irrogular-slinped tub ers, resembling very large, long pars nips, live or six to the plant, weigh ing twenty-fivo or thirty pounds. Tho roots only are eaten. Whon a field has been harvested tho stems are chopped into pieces abont four inches long, and these are planted. They take root at the nodes, or joints, and sprouts appear abovo ground in two or three weeks. Tho bitter kind used in Bruzil (manihot utilissima) requires two years to perfect a crop, while tho sweet variety grown in Florida (mani hot nipi) will make a crop in seven or eight months. According to tho journal quoted, for horses, mules, oows, hogs, etc., there is no root that will compare with it. No stook, however, will bo apt to eat it at the first trial, but when of fered them two or three times, when hungry, before food they like is given, they begin to relish it, and no further troublo is known. It should be pulled up and throwu to hogs, us they waste it if turnod on tho patch, for it very soon spoils, crude, in tho open air. For other animals, it should bo brushed clean and washed well. All the peeling may be left for tho stock, but not for human food. FAnM AND GARDEN NOTES. Muko a note of desirable beauties for next season's planting. Pot a few more bulbs for succession of bloom in the window garden. Cacti should be watered sparingly from now on, allowing them to take their winter's rest. It is not well to give the calla too much pot room, for foliugo may thus be produced instead of flowors. Give tho window plants as much air as possiblo on warm days, and make urrungemonts for protecting the out door plauts on cold nights. Tho hardy chrysanthemums outside may be made to bloom until after sev eral hard freezings, if the blossoms nro slightly protected at night. Carofully inspect every plant brought into the houso to discover any lurking insects, and give oach plant a thorough syringing before set ting on the plant shelves. Jasminun grandifiorum is a beauti ful vine for the jjwindow garden, and sure to give satisfaction; give it a light, sunny situation, and occasional applications of liquid manure. Have you laid in a supply of cab bage for the hens this winter ? A cab bage head hung up in the soratching pen will furnish employment for the hens, and will do them good. Cabbage is oheap too.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers