' -
TENDERNESS.
Kot unto every heart is God's good gift
Of simple tenderness allowed; we meet
TVith love in many fashions when we lift
First to our lips life's waters, bittersweet.
Jjoyc conies upon us with resistless power
Of curliless passion, ami with headstrong
will;
Jt plays around like April's breeaa and
shower.
Or calmlv flows, a rapid stream, and
? still
It comes with blessedness 'into the heart
That welcomes it aright, or bitter
I fate!
It wrings tbe bosom with so fierce a
sniurt.
That love, we cry, is crueler than hate,
jb;- " .And then, ah me! When love has ceased
to Moss,
*v ? , i , r ?
Ii vur uruai'u ui-urib vij. vuc 1^ uuus.4*.v^.
We Ions for tenderness like that which
Abont us, lying on our mother's breast;
1A selfish feeliug. that no pen or tongue
Can praise aright, since silence siugs it
best;
A love, as far removed from passion's
heat
As from the eliilluess of its dying fire;
A love to lean on when the falling feet
Begin to totter, and the eyes to tire.
In youth's bright hey-day hottest love we
seek.
The reddest rose we grasp?but when it
God grant that later blossoms, violets
meek.
May spring for us beneath life's autumn
skies;
God grant some loving one be near to
bless
Our weary way with simple tenderness!
I WITHOUT DUE
AUTHORITY.
li.r,
I He stood at the street corner, looking
drearily Into the growing fog.
A niinote or two before be had been
-standing behind the railings in the
park, absorbed in an effort, altogether
unavailing, to save the souls of his fellow
citizens in this metropolis of evils.
A. few yaals away a revolutionary
bricklayer out of work and with the
strongest private objection to being in
it bad hurled denunciations at the
iniquitous British constitution, to the
'delight of himself and the amusement
of his audience, and of a couple of
placidly smiling policemen who stood
near in that impersonal yet protective
Attitude characteristic of the force. A
little farther on. a "lightning artist" of
tender years furnished a quiet antidote
to gertlrola*ory anarchy by the repros.
dqctkra on paper of -the "Duke of
York's baby," to a chorus of loyal applause.
On the preacher's other hand,
a" martyr, whose motives his country
bad igaorantly misunderstood, perhaps,
not without just occasion, had
rtiated with some feeling much abuse I
authorities, and more of that lucklens
eighth letter of the alphabet,
? which is the chosen victim of eloqnouce
in fustian, the melancholy details
of an enforced retreat from public
Hte, which, to judge from apj>earances,
he had very richly deserved. When the
preacher's audience tired- of his discourse,
tliey bad only to turu their
heads to imbibe incipient anarchy and
dejected patriotism, or cultivate a
healthy admiration for juvenile talent
and fh? reigning bouse a combination
of conflicting sentiments peculiar to
Hyde Park on a Sunday afternoon.
The other orators, however, had
found compensation for their wrongs
in the delight of airing them at large.
They retired from the Held of battle
A hoarse, but triumphant. The preach;
v. ert triumph was a question which he
Ksf^S could only regard as much more dubious.
In moments of despair, which
sometimes fell to bis lor, he knew that
- his congregation merely regarded him
2/ aa an interlude between the denunciations
of the political bricklayer and the I
- * * rv# A*, tkiof r? t t/v
A . 4iiSiXKU mciviic vi iiic cA-iuin. vui, iv
-de him justice, those moments were
f. few and far between. He had fought a
^ hard battle fx?m a very ear 13- age, and
y defeat bad ceased to depress him save
at odtl times when he was, perhaps, a
H$L uttle colder, hungrier or sadder than it
was Lis usual fate to be.
As be stood at the corner a band was
laid on his shoulder, and he turned to
find himself face to face with Dr. Jeff.
L They bad met before, in slums and byways,
ana each man knew enough of
the other's life to respect it. I cannot
assert that Jeff is the little doctor's real
name, and perhaps he has a story or
mystery, or both?a skeleton which he
hides In the cupboard at bis shabby
lodgings, with the stale bread and highly
unprofessional cheese which that receptacle
contains?but I am sure that
Y , there to no kinder soul in all London,
despite his snarls, his sarcasms and the
inexpressibly unorthodox opinions
which he scatters broadcast in this
way. AH men have their hypocrisies,
and he has his. It is his delight to
>4V shock people, to pose as something very
little better than the archfiend himself.
1 have seen hiru succeed admirably in
his deception?with strangers. Those
P who know the good little man know
f also that he would not willingly bruise
a butterfly's wing nor offend the dirtiest
and most melodious tabby that
serenades his hard-earned slumbers.
liven now, as tnc proacneu turneu ins
white face anil tired eyes upon him and
- forced a smile, there was a charitable
scheme brewing in Jeff's mind,
g .' "Finished spouting':" he asked, gruffly.
"Walk my way, will you? Abornv.
Inable weather!"
He 6poke with a savage air, as
though the weather and he were on
. terms of violent hostility. Jeff's manner
generally suggested the feud-brief
and stiletto and other pharaphernalia
r ?r mediaeval murder.
{ They walked for some time in silence,
during which the doctor eyed his
companion with a bloodthirsty expression
of countenance.
"Better give it up," he said at last.
"Wearing yourself oyt for nothing. All
lJOHh"'
^ "la it?' asked the preacher, half
Rj* ,
I* V s jo? ?
R&; J . ''
S3C \v
sadly. "Sometimes I?I almost wish
my profession allowed me to think so,
too. doctor. But it doesn't."
"Hang your profession!" jerked out
J off. "You're uot a parson?**"No."
"Ever been one?''
"No."
"Then, why in the name of common
sense don't you go and earn some
money? My pood fellow, you're "
"What's the good of preaching?" he
went on. changing his sentence. "The
world went very well for a great many
centuries before you were born: it'll go
very well for many more after you're
buried. Let it go!"
The preacher's deep eyes flashed.
"I'll never do that," he said, quietly.
They had walked a considerable
way, and Jeff looked up with a wellassumed
start of surprise.
"Hanged if this isn't my place!
Never meant to bring you all this way.
Come in and rest."
The preacher hesitated, but he did
not wish to give offense and finally
they tramped up the narrow stairs to
Jeff's sanctum a little sitting-room
with hideous cheap furniture, a flaring
paper and a table littered with books.
It was all very cheerless, very dingy,
but Jeff waved his guest to a chair
with a certain dignity foreign to his
usual manner a survival, perhaps, of
other ways of life and of other visitants
than street preachers. After all.
u is uie man who mast** ui.> >uhuuuuings.
A parvenu can bo vulgar in a
palace; our little doctor, despite liis
bluster, might have been a prince in
disguise.
So the preacher thought as he sat
down in the arm chair black horsehair
covered, and dellcient in the matter
of springs and glanced round the
room at the well-worn books, at the
oil-stove, which smelled abominably, at
the cupboard where the skeleton clattered
its empty jaws among dry crusts
and ancient cheese.
"Not much of a place, is it?" said
Jeff. "We've known better, both of us.
But it does anything does. Excuse
me, but I want my supper. Do you
mind my getting it? Coin don't run to
many courses. But perhaps you'll help
me? Hate solitary meals always did;
bad for the digestion. Tab! how that
infernal thing does smell, to be sure!"
Of course the preacher saw through
the device, and its clumsy, kindly delicacy
touched him as few things had
done of late. He murmured some commonplace
reply and proceeded to take
a tender iuterest in the retrimming of
the stove. I fancy there were tears in
his tired eyes as he fumbled with the
matches, and that he blessed Jeff's
grumpy hospitality with a fervor
which would have agreeably astonished
the doctor, who had received so little
gratitude in his time that he had
outgrown the usual habit of expecting
It
lie (UU UOl IUUK Ul ins pUl-Sl as UC
hunted in the cupboard and brought
out such modest provision as it contained,
and presently the preacher rose
and began to set the table ready in
silence. As he lifted one of the books
something on its faded cover caught
his eye. On the brown leather was
stamped a coat-of-arms, almost indistinguishable
by reason of Its antiquity.
Jeff saw the glance directed toward
him, took the book from his companion's
hand and flung it roughly into a
corner.
"Somebody's aristocratic vulgarity,"
he said, shortly. "What do they want
to scatter their stupid quarterings
about for? I picked it up secondhand."
The preacher went on silently with
his task. He was quite aware that the
book had not been picked up seconds
hand, but be did not even look as if he
doubted Jeff's statement Only I think
the skeleton sidled a little eloser to the
cuuboard door. It is a thing which all
skeletons will do at times.
The two men sat down at the table
and l>egan their, supper. They did not
talk much at first, but presently Jeff
pushed back bis chair and glanaed
across at the preacher.
* 1 rwlil rnn u lio nnw *' hn ctlid
The preacher looked up, and the two
men's eyes met.
"I L'SO'h you did," he answered, simply.
"I thought you didn't know. Rather
pride myself on telling a He neatly.
Learned it at school?about the only
thing I did learn there. Ah, now I've
shocked you."
"So," answered the other, sadly. "I
?I am not easily shocked."
"New sort of saint, eh? Well, we've
had about enough of the old."
There was silence for a moment and
then Jeff said:
"How do you know?"
"By the way you flung the book."
"AhI I saw you looking at the old
shield and it hurt. Odd how small
things do hurt sometimes. Perhaps
you know that, too?"
"I know it very well," murmured the
preacher, with his eyes cast down.
"Thought you did." said Jeff, with a
little smile which had a touch of irony
in it.
The little doctor could nevor be quite
serious?his retrospective melancholy
had a dash of amusement in it. He
had grown used to the idea of himself
and the rest of humanity squirming beneath
the dissecting knife of malignant
destiny.
"Been preaching about here?" he
went on.
The preacher looked up, half nervously.
"No. Why do you ask?"
"Net staying long, are you?"
"No," said the preacher, with a quiet I
sound in his voice. "No, I think I shall |
not stay very long."
Jeff sprang to bis feet and then sat
down again. He looked hard at the
man's white face, and it looked back at
him. There was no fear in It, and the
sad eyes met his steadily.
"You yon must go away," said Jeff.
The preacher smiled a little.
. a.
i.. - ' "
. i
i
"Y os where to the south of
France? My dear doctor, that's not for
ino-at least not ' now. Once" he
stopjM'd, and his eyes grew dreamy.
"Not now," he said again.
Jeff did not speak at once.
"You must leave London, then."
'"It is hardly worth while."
"You're a fool, and an enthusiast."
said Jeff, roughly, yet with a sharp
catch In his voice, "hut you're good
stuff. I've seen you when man, you're
killing yourself!"
The preacher never winced. The
smile still lingered on his lips, though
they were set tight.
"I can't run away, doctor." he replied.
1 never did that, and 1 can't do
it now."
"You weren't meant for this workdo
you think 1 have no eyes? Write to
your people and tell them "
"1 have no people," answered the
preacher. and his face was very stern.
Jeff tilted his chair, waiting. It came
at last. The preacher caught Ids eye.
and hesitated for a moment.
"I told you a lie. then, hrt said.
-Co on."
-They threw me over. My father is
a clergyman. I was to have gone into
the church. I wanted to?yon don't
know how much I But I could not accept
everything they told me. 1 suppose
I was unorthodox " lie stopped.
Jeff nodded mute encouragement.
"They rejected mo," said the preacher
slowly.
"Because you were honest. Yes. And
this was "
"The only other way."
"You are a priest, all the same," said
Jeff, through his teeth.
rue preacner siooa up.
"Without duo authority," he answered.
as he held out his hand.
"Authority." said the little doctor,
waspishly, "is not always given to the
right man nor by the right man. *
But the preacher went away silently.
He was not one of those who speak
evil of authorities.
It was a month or two later, and
London was in the grip of black, bitter
frost. In a doorway in one of lite
slums, behind the Salamander Music
hall. Jeff, haggard and anxious, stood
looking at the preacher with something
like despair in his face.
"I'm stone broke," he said, "and the
girl must have nourishment or she'll
die. There's no time to apply to anyone.
Hood (lod! what are we to do?"
He stamped desperately on the floor,
and then remembered his patient and
stopped. The preacher did not stamp.
"I'll get you some money," he said.
"I think I can. Yes" he shivered a
little in the cold draught "Pm sure I
can."
"In an hour?"
"Wfthin an hour. I'll go now."
"loure a uricK, saiu jeu, as m.*
turned oil his heel. Then the professional
element in him asserted itself.
"Have something to eat before yon
come out into this cold again, mind,"
he commanded.
The preacher nodded and went away
with a dreary smile on his face. Perhaps
there was a hidden irony In the
situation which he alone could perceive,
for he smiled more than once as
he hurried through the darkening
streets to the house where he had harborage.
Once, as he passed a lighted
church where the choir was practicing
for 'the morrow and his eyes fell on
the notice board, the smile very nearly
became a laugh. Yet there was nothing
laughable in sight. The notice
board merely bore the sulllcicutly sober
information that Rev. John Allinglmni
T;ivlnr would nrench next dav in
that church.
The preacher hurried on. and climbed
to his rooms with a white face and
fluttering breath. Arrived there, he sat
down on a broken chair and panted.
The room was almost as bare as those
cells wherein the hermits dwelt of old.
All the little personal possessions
which had adorned it once had vanished
In that dreadful winter. All the
little money which had been paid to the
preacher by,the family which had discarded
him was gone. The only two
things which remained were a large
and handsomely bound bible, lying on ,
the foot of the bed, and a little ivory
crucifix hanging against the bare wall.
The preacher's eye fell on these and he
sighed. Then he got up resolutely,
took down the crucifix and opened the
bible. Ou the flyleaf was an inscription.
He tore the page carefully out
and slipped it into the breast pocket
of his thin coat. Then he took up the
bible and crucifix and went out.
Not an hour later Jeff, in a wretched
attic, bent over a shrunken figure and
forced brandy between Its lips. At the
further end of the room two children
?small, starved, wolfish-eyed?sat over
the remnants of a meal like wild beasts
over a bone. Presently the little doctor
gave a muttered exclamation of
relief. The children glanced up and
then returned ravenously to their food.
Their mother's eyes opened for a moment
U|H>ii Jeff's face, and she whispered
a word of thanks. And well she
might, for lie had dragged her out o.'
> ? .l.vnth
lilt* jans ul uruiu.
Meanwhile the preacher plodded
wearily back again to the shelter of
the four bare walls he called home. He
did not hurry this time. Very slowly
he climbed the creaking stairs, and almost
staggered Into the room. It was
growing dark and the cold was intense.
The preacher sat down and his
eyes involuntarily sought the nail
where the little crucifix had hung. Involuntarily,
too, his hand drew out tho
page which he had torn from the bible.
He bent over it cud read the inscription?was
it the twilight which made
the letters dance and sway? It was
very cold and the darkness seemed to
come closer every moment Perhaps
it was only his weakness that made it
seem so dark and freezing. He thought
of Jeff and his wcrk with a curious
gladness that shut out the falling
night. Then a great weariness seized
him and he rose and tried to cross the
jSi . . + v>">~..rA ' J id
,-f > K \ -1V*1"
\
t
room. The darkness was whirling
round hint now and he fell on his
knees beside the bed.
.Toff, coming in late that night to tell
him of his success, found him there,
kneeling beneath the nail where theoniciiix
had hung. He did not answer
when the little doctor called to him.
and a lighted match revealed the fact
that he had slipped from a world
which had rejected him as a man of
no account. The bare room told a silent
story that brought tears into Jeffs
eyes.
And In the dead preacher's hand was
a piece of crumpled paper, upon which
was written "John Allingham Taylor"
and a date that was all.
??*#?#?
In a certain church on the following
morning. Iiev. Joliu Allinghain Taylor
preached, to the great oditication of his
au<lience and himself. It was a charity
sermon, and it is popularly supposed
to have been the finest thing
which that congregation had sat out
for some time.
I'.ut Jeff, who occasionally attended
that assembly, rose in the middle of
the discourse and went out with a
heart full of bitterness. Those studied
periods did not edify him. lie remembered
a tiuer sermon?and its text was
a man's life. It was that of the priest
who had preached without due authority.?Belgravia.
A Sr-?IiiJK-bcc.
"I'm going to have a spelling bee toni.riit
" com T'twin .Tolln "and I'll rive
a pair of skates to the boy who can best
spell 'man.' " The children turned and
stared into one another's eyes. "Best
spell 'man," Uncle John? Why. there
is only one wa}*!" they cried. "There
are all sorts of ways," replied Uncle
John. "I leave you to think of it a
while." And he buttoned up his coat
and went away.
Time went slowly to the puzzled boys
for all their fun that day. It seemed as
if that after supper time would never
come; but it came at last, and Uncle
John came, too, with a shiny skate-runner
peeping out of his great-coat pocket.
Uncle John did not delay. He sat
down, and looked straight into Harry's
eyes. "Been a good lx>y to-day, Hal?"
"Yes no," said Harry, flushing. "I
did something Aunt Mag told me not to
do, l>ecanse Ned Barnes dared me to. I
can't bear a boy to dare me. What's
that to do with spelling 'man'?" he added,
half to himself.
Hut tuciejonn tunica to uoi>. xiau
a goo; 1 day. my boy ?"
"Haven't had fun enough," answered
Boh. stoutly. "It's all Jo's fault, too.
We boys wanted the pond to ourselves
for one day; and we made up our minds
that, when the girls 'came, we'd clear
them off. But .To, lie "
"I think this is Jo's to tell," interrupted
Uncle John. "How was it, boy
"Why," said Jo, "I thought the girls
had as much right on the pond as the
boys. So I spoke to one or two of the
bigger boys, and they thought so, too;
and we stopped It all. I thought it was
mean to treat girls that way." There
came a flash from Uncle John's pocket.
The next minute the skates were on
Jo'8 knee.
"The spelling match is over," said Uncle
John, "and Jo has won the prize."
Three bewildered faces mutely questioned
him. "Boys," he answered
gravely, "we've been spelling 'man,' not
in letters, but in acts. I told you there
were different ways, and we've proved
it here to-night. Think over It, boys, and
stt:.
Xot Impressed.
Fresident Krugor of the Trnnsva.nl In
a man not easily Impressed by rank,
title, or worldly splendor of any kind,
and cot iu the least ashamed of his
own plain origin and rough upbringing.
Sir James Sivewright. upon whom once
devolved the duty of taking an important
and rather jiompous English dtlke
to eall upon the President, told an
American about the conversation
which ensued. It was. of course, carried
on through an interpreter, and ran
about like this:
Duke Tell the President that I am
the Duke of , and have come to pay
my respects to him.
Ivruger gives a grunt, signifying the
welcome.
Duke (after a long pause) Ah! trii
him that I am a member of the English
Parliament.
Kruger gives another grunt and puffs
his pipe.
Duke (after a still longer pause) And
you might tell him that I am-ter a
member of the House of Lords a lord
you know.
Kruger puffs as before, and nods his
head, with another grunt.
Duke (after a still more awkward
pause, during which his grace appears
to have entertained doubts as to whether
he had as yet been sufficiently identified)
Er it might interest the President
to know that I was a viceroy.
Kruger Eh! What's that a viceroy?
Duke Oh, a viceroy that is a sort
of a king, you know.
Kruger continued puffing in silence
for some moments, obviously weary of
this form of conversation. Then, turning
to the interpreter, he said, gruffly:
Tell the Englishman that I was a cattle-herder."
This closed the interview*
Penalty Tor 1'esortion.
Desertion in time of war is punishable,
in all armies, by death, usually inflicted
by shooting. In time of peace
it is regarded by various governments
with different degrees of severity, according
as the military system is mild
or severe. In France, Germany or Russia
desertion, even in time of peace, is
very harshly punished, but in the United
States It is punishable by a term of
Imprisonment at hard labor. As a
matter of fact thi6 penalty is rarely inflicted.
The desertions in our army
number from 1,000 to 1,200 annually,
and few of the runaways are ever
cau*ht- ;
Ice For Dairy Furpnges.
It is not alone for creameries that ice
is important and necessary. The
farmer's wife who sets her milk in
pans the old-fashioned way cannot do
her butter justice unless she has an
ice house to go to for- ice to keep her
butter firm in hot weather. Sho is
usually obliged to adopt such makeshifts
as hanging her butter suspended
in a pail in the well or putting it in
the cellar, which, though cool enough,
is often too filled with odors to bo a
proper receptacle of butter. Boston
Cullivaior.
Cieanln; the Foultry-Honse.
There is much less consideration
given the roosts aud nests than any
other portion of the poultry-house.
With the desire to save labor the roosts
are nailed to the walls and the nests
are lasienea in piace so as 10 oecorae a
part of the building itself, the consequence
being that it is impossible to
thoroughly clean the poultry-house
and rid it of vermin; for as long as
there is a crack in which a louse can
hide there will be liability of rapid increase
of the pests, a single female
laying enough eggs in a day to furnish
the foundation for a million in a week.
Every roost should be level, that is,
all the roosts should be the same height,
and should bo so constructed as to
permit of being carried outside to be
cleansed. The nests should not be
joined, but separate, soap-boro3 being
. excellent, open at tbe ends, so as to
compel the hens to walk in rather
than fly upon tbe nests from the top.
If the roosts and nests are taken outside
they should be lightly brushed
with kerosene and a lighted match applied.
The tire will run over the surface
without doing auy harm. The
roosts should be treated in the same
manner. If properly constructed the
roosts and nests can be taken out and
replaced in a few moments, leaving
an empty poultry-house, which can be
easily cleaned.?Farm and Fireside.
Rr.Mlnc Seedling Apple Trees.
| Tho best seed is usually that from
au ungrafted tree, though if it stands
near or tho branches cross with some
good grafted variety, a part of the
seed may result in new varieties, some
of which may prove worthy of cultivation
when allowed to bear fruit.
I But most people only grow seedlings
i as nursery stock to graft with, known
varieties. To do this, take the seed
as soon as it ronie3 from the apple,
as a very little drying prevents it from
germinating quickly and results in a
feeble growth, while a little more dry
ing kills the germ entirely. If the
i ground is not open or ready for sow;
ing the Beed, bury them in dry sand
and place where they will not dry up,
I yet avoid the other extreme of allowing
the sand to gather moisture
enough to sprout the seeds.
Select a piece of light, sandy soil
and sow the sted in drills. Keep the
land mulched and water if necessary,
as the hot summer snu may kill many
filante if thin v? r?nf dnns Whon thi>
M trees
are as large around as lead pencils
transplant to about two feet apart
or more, aud allow them to grow until
large enough to graft. This- may be
' done when a half inch in diameter,
bat most orchanlists would prefer a
larger size than that. In transplant,
ing it is desirable to remove to a better
soil, but when they are- moved
after grafting tho soil should not be
[ too rich at first, or the growth of the
j graft may bo more rapid than tha: of
j the slock, and a weakness result at the
, point of union.
The same rules are applicable to
growiug all seedling trees, but the
seeds of stone fruits, like the peach
and plum, do not lose their germinating
power quite as quickly by drying
up as do those of the apple and pear.
The Woman's Horse.
If there is anything that gives me a
severe attack of "that tired feeling"
and drains my cup of sympathy to the
dregs, it i3 the farmer's wife who is always
telling that she can't go anywhere
because she has 110 horse to drive.
From the frequency of the remark I've
almost concluded that these women
comprise three-fourths of the population
of Michigan.
Two of my greatest objections to
farm life are the abominably early
hours at which the average farmer
gets up iu the morning, and the
wretched horses that he often owns. I
really don't kuow which is the more
entitled to commiseration the woi
man who rlias no driving horse
' at all or tho one who is com
j pel led to drive an old plcg sf <12
' equine that cannot set a pace
higher thau three miles an hour.
Oue drove by just a few minutes ago,
and she is the direct cause of this article.
She was pretty and stylish, but
| I'm willing to make affidavit before
j any judge in the State that the horse
over which sho held the ribbons has a !
I ringbone, a spavin, a severe case "bf
heaves aud is blind in one eye. Her
look and the way she used the whip, '
plainly said she was in a hurry. Tlie
look and action of the horse said also j
that he was not in a hurry. In a con-,
test between the two I'll stake my
wa^er on the horse.
I watched them over the hill and
ovt of sight and fell to counting up
how many of her type I knew. The
list is appalling. To be sure there are
many women too timid to drive a horse
with any "life," but there are also
many perfectly competent to manage
a spirited animal if only they had a
j chance to try.
J.1 -1. I J.' J. ^
There was much excuse for the i
"man in the case," when horses were ;
valued in the hundreds, but at present 1
prices it seems as if every family
: might own one just for the "wimmen'
folks;" one that can be always avail abl
3 for shopping or visiting, and one
; that the children may safely handle.
It needs a reliable, good-tempered |
l ~ ? .1 l. .11 .1 1 4
aicru iui nucu UU UU-HlvJUIIU USC, Uli? such
animals can be found, and they
are not necessarily old, broken-domra
plow horses. It costs ju3t as much to - h
keep a homely, disreputable nag as
| one in -which the owner can take some '
! pride. Brown Bess, my own driving
! horse, is a family friend andthegreatI
est of pets. We are all proud and
i fond of her, and should any accident
I befall her I fancy they'd be as much Jp
grieving as though one of the family
was injured.
The average man likes to own a S
horse that he knows no woman can
control. Not a very high ambition, ;
still one that no sensible woman will jgj
object to if only she be allowed a pre- . *
sentable steed of her own. That sense,
of ownership! How much it meansl
Bicycles aud horseless carriages may
rival horseflesh, but they can never
surmlant it. There is a iov in hold
ing the ribbons over a mettlesome
steed that no mere machinery can ever
inspire. There is a thrill that comes
when your pet measures speed with y.|
the "other fellow's" that is one of the
keen pleasures of life.
So, my sisters, persuade'"John" to
keep a horse for your use. Oaco you
j realize the pleasure of pride and ownership
In a horso that is worth owning
you'il never be content without
one. Learn to harness and care for it , v
yourself. It's a very easy thing to do; ?
a few lessons will make you proficient, ^
and by so doing yon will learn the little
peculiarities of disposition that are ,:;
as common to horseflesh as to men and
women. Horses are quick to know ^
and love their master, and by thia ^
persoual contact yon will win an affection
that is worth having. Detroit
Free Press.
Farm and Garden Xntea.
When the fowls are restless and con- iuH
stantly picking their feathers they are
infested with vermin.
When the manure is hard and a nor-' ' -
tion is -w hite it indicates a healthy con- <%
dition of the digestive organs.
WJien the edge of the comb and wot- vJp
ties are of apnrpli3h red and the move-'
ments sluggish there is something
wrong.
In vorking two horses harnessed together,
care could bo taken to have
them as nearly m itched, as to strength,
as possible.
As a remedy for roup in its fir?t
stages try burning tar and turpentine.
in the poultry house after the fowls
have gone to roost. : Jl
A white calceolaria ia one of the new ^
floral acquisitions. It-is a native of . ??
Chili and makes a beautiful plant for
the window garden. . $5
Some white varieties of corn are bet-,
j ter than tlie yellow and some yellow; ' ^
varieties better than the white. Color ^
! has little to do with quality.
Timber that is placed in or upon the;
: ground should first be thoroughly ?ea-> j
soned, as it will then last much longer, t
than if put in use when green. j ?$
A farmer does not have to skin * . 3
shetep to get its wool, but the average.
money lender in dealing with farmera
does not treat them thus humanely. .
Sunflower seed is an excellent food
for fowls and can be raised cheaper ,-t
than corn. It is fattening and give*
the fowls a bright, Instrons plumage.
When young poultry, especially
ducklings, appear to have a sore throat
. and swallowing is difficult, it is the
symptom of the large gray lioe on the
neck.
If in need of some cheap power for .
pumping, churning, shelling corn,
making cider, etc., get a good wind- \
mill and utilizes few of the thousands : r '
horsepower going to waste all around ^
yon.
Fowls which are fed and cared for i
regularly will thrive much better on
the same food than another flock whioh*
is fed irregularly as to both time and ^ g
quantity. They will lay mnch better
and will be more free from disease. .> V
Speaking of cows, a contemporary t
tells of one that in "tea months'* ' i ;
i gave up "8075 ponnds of milk,"
j yielding "432 pounds of butler," a "
; fact which speaks volumes in favor of
thoroughbreds a3 J Lcompared with y'
j scrubs.
According to experiments made, it
bas been found that as "between oot- ;
tonseed meal and linseed meal the' ?
former is superior for feeding farm an- '
imals, but the difference between
these cattle foods is not of special importance.
As a rule, says Gardening, all herbaceous
plants should be cat down to fej
within a few inches of the groand be- ,
fore taking them up late in the fall after
frost has destroyed their foliage.
This is as true of those that are transplanted
in the open ground as of those
that are housed during the Winter.
An old-fashioned flower, veryseldom
seen now. is one once commonly known T?;
as Blackberry Lily. It has rathe?
small, bright orange, lily-like flowers, i
that are "spotted like a pard," and;
the seeds when ripe resemble nothing #
so much as a big ripe blackberry. It'
is this which gires the plant its common
name. {
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