Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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4 * mirni mSii± mm iWinirSTTTTaB Mow They Talked. 1 l \ V a# As I sit iu my library, says Mrs. Kate Smith, and recall the friends of other days, I think, though so many are lost to me—dear, beautifal ones, who, weary with the toil of life, turned their face to the wall, and left me to mourn for them —I am Jess sad and lonely than most of those who survive. My memory is a perpetual source of enjoyment, for it unfailingly preserves all that is wholesome to be remembered and although it is tenacious of all im pressions, it has a divine faculty of winnowing the wheat from the chaff. I scarcely ever forget anything. I can recall the very words and looks of per sons, and even their dress, the hour and place where a conversation occurred, as freshly and as vividly as though not a day had intervened. Some of these friends were silent, ob servant, others full of flue glow and en thusiasm. W. C. Bryant was one of the most reserved of men, but his fine eje would kindle under a happy turn of thought, and his ideas would then flow into words as aptly chosen as the lan guage of his written poetry. I do not think he affected the conversation of women, and i have often had them wonder how I could find anything by which to sustain a colloquy with him. He never paid a direct compliment to a woman, but talked right on, just as he would talk with a man of ideas. He thus paid her understanding the best tribute. Mr. Bryant was thoroughly the gentleman in manner, listened well, was very quiet; no twisting or wngghng, which we so often see iu writers of some pretension, and which is so very offen sive to a person of culture. He was re fined to fastidiousness; somewhat cold, rather intolerant, exact in morals, con stant in friendship, and altogether a man to live long and be respectfully tall ed about to the last. His poetry will live, being artistic; and it not belonging to the high impassioned range, is alto gether his own. C F. Hoflinan conversed fluently and well. Though conservative in the high est sense, he had a keen admiration for a progressive idea v ell expressed. He recited admirably, reproducing the au thor’s conception with the imparted in terest of a finely modulated voice, and often with a penetration that carried the thought onward beyond what was ap - parent in the author’s experience. He was animated, gay, courteous, with an electric play of fancy, pathos, tender ness and enthusiasm. His own mind lent a grace to tbs thought of his collo- quist, who was apt to feel that nothing was easier than to converse with famous people, till he tried it with somebody of less genius, when he learned the dif ference between the electric spark of the inspired man, an i the dog-trot com monplace of mere talent. 1 remember Margaret Fuller would often look worn, weary, and revolted at the commonplace twaddle of society, and the only time I ever saw her look positively handsome was in conversation with Mr, Hoffman. Her pedantry amused him, and he knocked her theories right and left with a thorough appreciation of her intellect, and at the same time with a good-na tured audacity, a gallant courtesy, and fine discrimination, which made his irony pleasing, and brougnt to the sur face that humanizing love of admiration which disarmed the most ultra of wo men, and made her as placable as “a sucking dove.” John Neal was an excellent converger, indeed he cared very little for the opin ions or predilections of those about him, but poured onward like an avalanche, indifferent to what might be bruised or uprooted in its pathway. He was ter ribly in earnest. The only person who reminds me of Neal is George Francis Train, botli being overwhelmed with a superabundance of ideas, which they poured out, whether apt, or otherwise, to the occasion. Both were poetic, but Neal was a poet, and Train essentially prosaic, he rhymed, but that does not constitute poetry. Both were favorites with women, for the reason that both were like women, intuitive; and though both imagined themselves to be essen tially masculine, and both were manly, yet they never came in contact with a large-hearted woman, who did not feel a maternal instinct to protect them, while small women were afraid of them,’ Indeed a lull woman always becomes a protector to the full man as well as to the weak of both sexes. Rufus W. Griswold, the compiler of American Literature, w»s a pleasant, gossipy man in conversation, full of whim and absurdity, as tricky as a pretty woman; uevei seeming in earnest, yet at heart very much so, and of fixed and tenacious opinions. If one wished to know how earnest he could be, he had only to name James Fenimore Cooper and Napo’eon Bonaparte, when he would become really eloquent, Time will prove that the first is as well worth talking about as the latter, and when we shall have a generation of largely or ganized men and women, Cooper will grow into higher favor. N. P. Willis was conventional, full of fancy and compliment, but not in the large sense suggestive. He belonged essentially to the artificial and luxuri ous. He lacked depth and comprehen siveness; took always the best he found floating on the surface of society, what was most tasteful and most artistic. 1 used to think he might have made more of his genius, but subsequently became convmoetl that it -was neither large nor exacting, and that he achieved all he was capable of doing, Mr. Willis had the foolish vanity of a man of the world, who was willing to be thought a much worse or a more killing man than he really was, where women were con cerned. It is to bo hoped that the more enlightened views growing upon the minus of the sex will eventually disabuse the minds of men of many of these weak, ridiculous notions which were a part of the training whicn Mr. Willis in nis youth received from such sybarites as Lady Blessington and Count 1) Ok ay. Orestes A. Brownson was Johnsonian. He liked a monologue belter than collo quy; »as humorous, philosophic, dicta torial. In talking with me he was very apt to slide into “Sir,” instead of “Madam,” which was not displeasing to me. His reading was simply enormous; he never forgot anything, and would surprise a listener by illustration and quotation from some out-of-the-way au thor, just to show that there was noth ing new under the sun, and that those who plumed themselves upon spying a new or original thing, were, in reality, repeating in a poorer way what some finely-cultured mind had reached cen turies before. Dogmatic as he naturally waa his humility and child like docility in all matters pretaining to his religious belief were truly touching. Extremes are apt to approximate. George Ripley, the apostle of Drook- farm, out of which experience Haw- thbrne constructed hifl Romance of “Blithedalo,” a Massachusetts scholar, and very proud of his native State; and William Gilmore Simms, a South Caro lina scholar, and he also proud of his native State, were very Bimiliar in the style, though greatly differing iu the subject matter of their conversation. They were finished, concise, elegant. They talked in paragraphs, so well worded that every syllable might be put into a book, and it would read well there. Mr. Ripley had no superior in the country as a critic, and the Tribune owes much more to his taste, judgment, and learning than is generally known to the public. His conversation was genial, full of a subtile, i eflued insight rarely rising to enthusiasm, and yet in charac ter Mr. Ripley was an enthusiast of a high ordi r; a poet in heart and expres sion, without the incumbrance of the art. His prose has the finish of Irving, and a great deal more of breadth and penetration. He was fond of the so ciety of superior women, as all superior men are; and he fully sympathized with the highest aspirations of the sex. Love, Cola and Divorce. Old-Kanliloiied Rohch. In the present craze for Jacqueminots and Marechal Niels and Bon Silenes, few people remember any of the beau tifal old-fashioned roses that delighted the hearts of people a generation ago. Years ago the cabbage rose was consid ered almost the very perfection of roses. Now the variety is nearly extinct. Some persons will remember a few old speci mens, never to be forgotten on account of their tall, spreading, woody bushes, their large, glossy, daik-green leaves and their gorgeous masses of deep-pink bloom. Those who thiuk the corolla of the fashionable Jacqueminot big should have seen those They were literally; as the name indicates, respectable-sized cabbages. Tha Baltimore belle was once the fancy rose. Now it is scarcely ever seen, except clambering over old- fashioned porches and arbors. It is a hardy, luxuriant climber, and at the same time a delicate, graceful one. It bears a wealth of bloom, sometimes the green being scarcely visible under its veil of crimson. Tue color is a deep crimson, velvety as a royal robe. The flowers are not very double, having in their centres a prolusion of bright yel low stamens. But though the Baltimore Belle is beautiful the Champney far surpasses it. Not one in a hundred of the present race of readers knows what a Champney rose is. A single specimen is hirdly obtainable any win re. Tue bush is low and spreding, somewhat after the man ner of the wild rose, and it blooms at the rate of hundreds at a time. The blossom resembles that of the Baltimore Belle in that it is but slightly double, with a profusion of yellow stamens, but it differs in color, being of a dainty, creamy white, shading into a faint pink. All old gardens displayed an abundance of the hundred leaf or crown rose. This seemed well named, for the loo-abundant petals were literally packed together to torm a blossom raised in the centre like a crown. In color it was of a real so- called rose pink and had the character- istio fragrance so well known in rose water. Now, whenever seen, the hun dred leaf rose bashes are usually de generate prey for rose bugs. Beautiful half blown bads may sometimes be ob tained, but very seldom can one find a perfect flower. The old fashioned yellow rose has disappeared almost entirely. The plants were little, the clustered leaves very di minutive and the stems and seed vessels very prickly, but the blossoms were large and glowing,like a small sun,more beautiful by far than the modern elated suntiower. The blighted rose once was quite a curiosity; and so it is bow—in the few places in whicn it may still be seen. One single plant sometimes^ spread itself like a miniature thicket, a' tangled mass of greenery. The rather large, very dou ble blossoms were pure white upon their outer edge and delicate pink in tne cen tre, similar in this respect to what is now known as the blush rose. But the blighted rose had one peculiarity. Be fore the centre had fully developed the outer edge had !>egmi to fade, so that it was no uncommon thing to a e the pink heart surrounded by a fringe of withered petals. Sometimes the outer layer showed streaks of brown even in the bud. The real moss rose of which the poets have sung is now little more than a memory. It resembled the crown rose, except that it was larger, of a deeper pink and had a green mossy growth upon its calyx. The moss rose is still imitated by art, but how far this imita tion is successtul few of the people of the present day have much opportunity of judging. The dog rose is perhaps the rarest of all the roses formerly cultivated,though it is said to grow wild in some parts of Pennsylvama. Tnis resembles the sweetbrier and ran over, perhaps, yards of space, with the same native luxuri ance. its blossoms were single, like those of the wild rose, with five simple petals, but larger and of a deep velvety pink. Other roses there were of which scarce the name or the memory remains One of these was like a double swamp- rose, forming thickets like brambles. Rigid ClMDltnenM. “Do you claim any superiority for the canning over green vegetables?” was asked of a manufacturer of canned goods. “Yes,” in this way: We are now canning asparagus at the rate of 6.000 cans a day, and putting it up within three hoars after palling it out of the gronnd. Jt is gathered in the early morning before sunrise, while the dew is still upon it. The same remark ap plies to tomatoes, of which we are put ting up 42,000 cans daily at our factoiy at Morristown, N. J., where a string of wagons a mile long is waiting every morning to receive the cans. The same holds good with peas, wnich are also gathered before the son’s heat can get at them. If you buy similar vegetables green at a retail stoic they are nsnally from one to three days old. They lose their freshness, whereas by our process they will remain fresh and sweet for three years.” “But what about the chemical action of the solder?” “All our goods are now soldered on the outside by a new patent process by which it is impossible for the solder to touch the contents. Here, for example, is one of our new cans of the kind I refer to. You can see for yourself that it is as I say.” “Wnat is the secret of successful can ning?” ‘•To destroy the germ of fermentation —that is all that is iu it, apart from rigid cleanliness.” The elite of California have been thrown into confusion by the announce ment that Miss Diana H. Murphy, of San Jose, or Mrs. Morgan Hill, as it ap pears is her legal designation, had com- menceti divorce proceedings in Modesto. The heroine, Diana H. Murphy, is none other than the daughter of the late well- known millionaire, Dan Murphy, who died at Elko last October. Diana had been a San Jose belie for several years and many were tbe suitors for her band, as it was known that in the event of her father’s death her wealth would be great. To all, however, she tamed a deaf ear, excepting Morgan Hill, of the firm of E. H. Jones & Co., of this city, upon whom she centered her affections, mnch, however, to the chagrin of her parents. No schemes, no entreaties, no threats proved of any avail and when ever an opportunity offered the young conple met to exchange their vows of mntnal affection. A change came, however, bnt in a way least expected. Just prior to his death tho v ealthy cattle dealer, realiz ing his situation, sent for his children, Diana and Daniel, Jr. The former ar rived just in time to receive the pater nal blessing, which was coupled with a last request that she would never marry Hill. The promise was duly made and the father died contented, leaving bis daughter heiress of $800,000, Tbe funeral over, an unmistakable change was noticed in Miss Diana’s bebavior. 8lie no longer was the quiet, sedate yonng lady of old, but plunged into amusement with recklessness of one who had no longer pleasure in life. Hill’s visits lessened in frequency and the rumor that the engagement was severed was repoited. Diana, not con tent with her old field of conquest, at tended the session of Legislature, dazz- 1 ng the law-makers with her beauty, and the attentions lavished upon|herby a young Senator from the orange grove district caused the report that a mar riage had been arranged between them. Gossip now found more food to feast upon. It was reported that Miss Murphy had been clandestinely married in this city last July, and though for a long time no confirmatory evidence could be fonud, last week it leaked out in Mo desto that the report was correct. Last July the yacht Nellie left this port for Santa Cruz, where sle remained for some time. Among the party aboard was Mr, Hill, and Miss Mnrphy, audthe latter’s confidant, Miss Mattie George. On the return of the party the ladies registered at the Palace, while Mr. Hill remained at his quarters at the Grand. At the latter hotel on the evening of July 31, the marriage took place, the ceremony being performed by the Bey. Dr. Jewell, of the Howard Street Methodist Episcopal Church. The mar riage was kept secret and Mrs, Hill re turned to her home. Until the death of her father nothing happened to mar the blissful condition of affairs, bnt after that event Hill lost control over his wife and she chafed under the yoke of matrimony. Hill’s wish to avow the marriage was met with a fiat refusal by bis wife, and be was unceremonionsly dismissed. He has made no answer to the bill of complaint filed at Modcsta. New Drinks. most of my any prefer- Aa in pretty much e/ertything else, there are fashions in summer drinks, i he patrons of f»noy tieoations in New York as else where demand something novel in the way of alcoholic stimulant as the seasons change and the establishment is first to catch the popular taste with something new, is the place that draws the lion’s share of cus tom. Among tte popular caterers in the bibu lous line is Mr. Collins, who informed a reporter that he was on time with his novelties, as usual. “We have this summer,’’ said Mr. Col lins, “a greater variety of fancy drinks than has been made for years. The taste of drinkers seems to be more exacting than in the old time, when whnkey straight was good enough tor anybody. ” “Name some of your prominent drinks, please?” “Well, we have the Prince Albert toddy, which has taken the place of the gm-flzz. It is composed of apple brandy, pineapple strips, Hoetetter’s bitters and sugar. If the ingredients are accurately compounded the drinker invariably leaves the house with a smile on his face. The price is 40 cents, a very reasonable one if the liquor be good We also make the Roman Elixir, composed of Rhine wine, mint and lemon juice. It is a very palatable drink, and is prescribed by physicians for dyspepsia. A drink for which there is a considerable demand in the Lady fltger Julep It is prepared as an ordinary mint julep, with the addition of sweet oil and parsnip ex- trdet, and is served in a glass pointed at the top like a lady’s finger. The price is 30 cents. We sell about 700 of these daily.” “You cater largely to actors, do you not ?” ‘Tam happy to say that trade is from that quarter.” “Have these gentlemen ecce ?” “They have.’’ “Whut is it!” “Beer.” At the Metropolitan Hotel there is con- considerable of a run just now on Santa Cruise Filliges. a drink which has taken the place of the once famous Santa Cruise sour. Its component parts are Santa rum, flittered, the suggestion of tomato eatsup, spring mint, lettuce, Mother Oorey’s chicken feed and syrup. It is said to be an excellent remedy in cases of prostration superinduced by continuous expansion of the porous system. A man of ordinary health, according to Dr. Shine, can drink fifty and still keep out of the station house. Many of the well dressed men who visit the Hoffman House nighty are attracted there by the famous Charlotte Pavet, the ingredients of which are Holland gin, Murphysboro extract of pasmacetty and seltzer water. One drink of this famous decoction is seffleient to stir the most sluggish nature to activity, two will make a man “feel himself,” as the saying is, while a half dozen, when taken by a con sumptive, wouid make him a match against a whole squad of policemen. In the Gilsey House, Fifth Avenue and Wiudfor hotels there are frequent calls for the “dudes’ cocktails." This refreshing beverage is designed to meet tbe require ments of the day. It is composed of soda water, essence of mint canoy and carro way seed. It is not, in any degree, Intoxi cating, and is only apt to produce cramps when taken in large quantities. Young gentlemen addicted to the use of this beverage are supplied with napkins per fumed with cherry wine. Tne price is 60 cents, and the fact considesed that erne tics are not required in the morning, it is hot excessive. Keep as much stock as can be fed well for this adds to the manure pile and their increase, and a few fat carcasses afford a big interest on the investment, Voting Women Who Swim. *ar.-in>»i i-rm lafih-gtfiMn wSe-YVil mi* “Do women learn to swith here? Well, yes, I should say they do,” said a swim ming master, in reply to the query of a reporter. “We generally have from five hundred to six hundred women and girl pupils every season, and the desire to learn the art seems to be extending among the sex year by year.’’ f ~ ‘ What uvauiies a iaal\U.s rcr. The consummate achievement of New York Anglomania is doubtless the hunting of the anise-seed bag over the gentle undu lations of Long Island, but next to that is the driving of four in hands before English coaches and riding thereon up into West chester or through the Centra) Park. This noble feat was performed Saturday by a Ts it r s easy to teach a woman or a gnV ’ 5tl0 * ce selection of Anglopbuista known as to swim as ;t is a man or a boj ?” ;he Coaching Club. Eleven coaches, to “Not quite; hut, then, there are excep tions to the rule. A woman is more con fiding than a man, generally, and puts her trust in her teacher more fully than a man, but when she first touches the water and goes through the motions of swimming she is apt to be very nervous. She is slow of comprehension for a time. A man plunges m recklessly, digests his instructions with out parleying and has none of that nervous fear that retards the progress of nearly all women.” “Are there any good swimmers Among your female pupil>?” “Oh, yes, several. We have one young lady of nineteen who 'san do two miles of fast swimming. Several of our girls would be able, under a pressure, to swim across the Delaware. Teaching gives them con fidence in themselves and fits them for au emergency that everybody is likely to meet once at least m a lifetime.” “Our process of teaching is a very simple and easy one. When the pupil presents herself and has donned her bathing suit, which consists of a sack, skirt and broad trowsen, she is taken to the preparatory room and is taught the proper motions of her arms and legs on a carpet. These mastered, she is taken to the bathing pool, where a strap, so padded as not to hurt her, is passed around her body, and she is placed in the water with her face down and kept afloat by a rope passed through a pulley. Here she goes through the motiens of swimming, which, like her music lesson at home, are indicated by the voice of the female teacher, who counts one, two, three In a-monotone that gives the time to the motions of the limbs. The next stage is swimming with a float or life-preserver around the body. In this the actions of the limbs are perfectly free, and the pupil, accompanied by the teacher, often succeeds iu making a round of the bath m the sec ond or third lesson. All her motions are closely watched and her attention is sharp ly called to any false stroke or laggard movement. The motions once perfectly learned, the pupil soon gather? confidence in her ability to swim and It is only in a few cases that we are not able to dispense with the float at tbe fifth lesson and send the young lady out to swim without any other aids than those given her by nature. Girls are taught the same stroke as boys, but I think there is an essential difference between them in the matter ot using the propelling power of the lower limb?. The boy is more vigorous and more propulsive in his legs than in his arms, while with the girls the reverse is tne case. Many of our lady swimmers dispense with the skirt, which somewhat retards their motions, and wear simply the sack and the trousers. I think that is the most reasonable swim ming costume, for tbe skirt is apt to hold the water and lessen the speed of the swimmer by giving her a heavier load to carry." “Do old ladies ever take a fancy to swimming?” “Sometimes. One day last summer we had a party here that Included three gene rations of one family. There were the grandmother, a hearty old lady of 80; the motner, a plump matron of 40, and four daughters, ranging from 12 to 18 years of age. All could %wim except the old lady, aud I could see M she stood in tho shallow water that she envied her descend ants the enjoyment of their accomplish ment. Many medical men prescribe swim ming baths for ladies, and we have regular visitors who come because the exercise is beneficial to their health.” “Is the art ever likely to be useful to ladies?” “To show you that the art of swimming is often useful, even to women, I can recall two or three incidents in the career ot cer tain pupils of ours that will prove very interesting. One of our pupils was daughter ot Ex-Secretary of the Navy Bone. She was au expert swimmer and perfectly fearless. One day m the summer of 1877 when she was bathing on the beach at Cape May two children that belonged to a party near her were seized by a receding wave and carried out beyond their depth. Neither could swim, and tbe ladies who were with them were equally helpless. Taking in the situation at a glance, Miss Bone swam out into the swelling surt and in a moment had rescued the drowning children. “Another young lady, also a pupil of ours, a Miss Laury, whose father is a coal dealer at Lombard street wharf, saved minister and another gentleman at a water ing place on Long Island after a perilous swim. The men could not swim, and hav ing been seized by the undertow were drawn out into deep water, where they were helpless. Miss Laury swam to them, and by her noble aid they got sately ashore. What would have been her feel ings at that moment it she had not known how to swim? Still another pupil of ours Las distinguished herself by saving life. This was Miss Fanny ReigeL One day when she was riding near Hammellsburg, a little village on tbe Delaware, she saw some children playing in a boat on a large mill dam. • Suddenly, to her horror, the boat upset and the three little children were struggling In the water. Without the loss of a second she spranir from her car riage, and only stopping to throw off her bonnet and shawl plunged into the pond. She was enabled fortunately to save three fives, whereaa, had she not been a swim met, ah* would have had the horrible memory all her life of the death struggles of the little innocents. “I only cite these Instances to show that an opportunity tor doing good often occurs to a woman who can swim. A distin guished author says of the art: There is no exercise more graceful, more easy, more pleasant, more health-giving to the human frame than swimming. It expands the chesle, it rounds the arms, develops the muscles of the trunk, gives vigor to the loin and strengthens and fills out the lower limbs. It confers presence of mind and confidence in on^’s seif and prepares women as wed as men to sustain them selves and to help others in a form of danger to which the contingencies of travel must often expose us.”’ Ki'ue snooting. The American Rifle Team recently sailed for Europe to contend at Wimbledon with the best shots of the British Volunteers. The match is purely military and the guns used are serviceable weapons, so that the shooting has more practical value than that of amateurs with “sporting” rifles. The American team is a strong one, but it is to meet the flower of England’s army volunteers,” who have the advantage of greater experience both in individual and team shooting. Whether the Americans win or lose they are pretty sure to prove creditable to the nation that sends them forth. borrow the language of an cnthusiasTc witness, “unwound like a bright ribbon from the green centre of Madison Square and went rolling up Fifth avenue to the park.” The coaches—yellow body and red under-carriage, claret body and canary under carriage, or what not else—were glorious with new paint; the harness splendid with polished plate. The “gen tlemen drivers” wore the uniform of the club—dark green coats with gold buttons, yellow-striped wai itcoats, drab trousers and tall white hats—and must have looked like the Pickwick (Jlub on their travels— and as they were exceedingly English, that was well There was Colonel William Jay and William K. Vanderbilt, Roosevelt and Sturgis, Loriflard aud Havemeyer, Parker and Bronson, Kane, Newbold and Kernochan, and wives and fair friends of theirs; six persons to a coach, and all of them seated on top. The coaches were, as a reporter observes, “jiedestals of visions of shimmering satins and flowers and pleas ing figures”—only that and nothing more, so far as it appear?. Tbe horns were tooted with science, the horses pranced and Colonel Jay “unreefed his whip arm” at bve o’clock. It was a glorious sight, and crowds gathered to see it; thousands that hadn’t a dollar in tne world to spend for fun looked on and glonfled the show. It was really one of the circuses that au aristocracy are always bound to provide to accompany the “distressful breed” of the lower classes. The common people in the park admired to the full, be sure, the “gen tlemen” in livery and the gay silks and satins and flowers and faces behind them. When the parade was over and the noble beings drew up their equipages before the Brunswick to refresh their higher appe tites at a table shaped like a wiftletree, it was then discovered what the inside ot the coaches were for. Ladders were drawn thence, whereby the ladies might descend from their lofty seats with decorum. Be fore this age it has been a mystery. Lot* of Jam. Tough meat may be made as tender as any by the addition of a little vinegar o the water, when it is oat on to boU, A truckman drove across the down-town track of the Third avenue line, on Chatham street, toward the entrance to the bridge, in New York. He had a broken nose and a calm smile, and drove a piebald horse. It suited his humor to drive slowly scross the track. Coming down town at a rattling pace were a pair of desperate horses, draw ing one of the new open cars. Their driver seemed unduly composed of jaw. His eyes were hidden beneath the brim -if an old felt hat, but his massive chm looked bel ligerent and bold. As he moved along briskly he discovered the truck driver on the track, and sent forth a shrill whittle of warning. By a slight acceleration of pace the piebald horse could easily have drawn the truck out of the way. But, instead, the calm driver of the truck drew in his piebald horse and came to a standstill across the track. The car driver jammed down the brake, his face became red, aud he gently raised himself on hh toes. “Were you in a hurry, gentle Annie?” asked the broken-nosed driver on the truck, in tones of warm affection. T wuz,” gasped the car driver, letting himself down on his heels and then gently rising again. “Don't get in a hurry again, sweet Clara it’s apt to cause a rush of brains to the head, and you couldu’t stand that, baby.” The car driver was now leaping up and down with anger, and his face had become purple. He couldn’t utter a werd. The truck driver was leaning forward, with both elbows on his knees, and gazing at the car driver with an expression of friend ship and love. “How beautiful you are!” soliloquized the truckman fondly. “How came’you so beautiful?” “If—if I ever gig-gig-gig-git hold- “Whatl Angry?” said the truckman in gentle reproof. “Come ’ere, you,” yelled the driver, turning to the conductor suddenly. “Come ’ere an’ hold this tame, an’ I’ll kill that snipe it I git twenty years.” But before tne conductor got to the for ward end ot the car the piebald horse started up and trotted ou the bridge. As tbe broken-nosed driver disappeared he looked longingly over his truck and cried “It breaks my heart to leave you.” “Well, be hivins, if you stay Oi’U break l^ery bone in yer body!” yelled the driver. Then he clubbed his horses with the butt of his whip and went on his way. Among the Busy Glovers. A writer from Gloverville, New York, says the great bulk of the orders for buck and all winter, gloves are given before the first of May. Samples and staple stocks are made up during January, and Febru- ary and March bring some cf the heaviest buyers. These, like all succeeding buyers, are welcomed by the nost of manufactur ers, all, naturally, anxious aud foolishly determined to sell at any prices. The jobber knows this and holds off, talking “dull trade,” “blue outlook,’’ and insinu ating that goods will be and are being offered low. He uses all hie craft to cause discouragement and to stir up the compe titive spirit until a break in prices is caused, when he buys not halt the goods he would had the market held firm, because he is fearful that the market will get still weak er. Each succeeding buyer adds to the panic until not only is the manufacturer’s profit ruined, but tbe jobbeis in their turn are afraid of the weakness they themselves have made in the market, in consequence ot deferring the greater part of their pur chases till late, often as late as midsum mer. This appears to have been the con ditlon of things for the past and present years. The extensive severity and length of last winter must, aud did, clean out the not heavy stock that was prepared for it; therefore a booming trade was expected early in this season, but it did not come, and although a large amount of orders have been quietly placed later, they were taken at very close margins. All this is appa rently, and is admitted by all the manu facturers to be, the result of the causes here given. Nearly all the gloves and mittens used in North America are made here, and must be made here; therefore, the business can and should be controlled here. Instead of competencies made in this business being rare exceptions, fortunes should be the rule. As it is, enough goods to supply the demand that must come, remain unsold, and a boom is confidently expected by our most competent judges. But little prepa ration, however, is being made for this late trade so confidently expected, instead of stocks of staple goods being got ready, our manufacturers are neglecting to get ahead of their orders. In the past they have filled their shops with unsold golds, ready for the fall trade. Are they not now going to the other extreme, l e., working too cautiously in not preparing for a demand that is confidently anticipated and that past experience teaches will surely come? wmfhtio. I AGRICULTURE, Oatmeal Porridge aiJD CakeR. —The two principal ways of cooking oatmeal are porridge and cake. The following is a good receipt for porridge. To three pints of boiling water add a level tea- spoonful of salt and a pint of coarse meal, stirring while it is being slowly ponred in; continue stirring until the meal is diffused through the water— about eight or ten minutes. Cover it eloeely then and place it whefe it will simmer for an hour; avoid stirring dur ing the whole of that time. Serve hot, with as little messin b as possible (it is best ponred into plate?) accompanied with milk, maple syrup or sugar and cream. To make oatmeal cake, place in a bowl a quart of meal, add to it as much eold water as will form it into a soft,, light dough, cover it with a cloth fifteen minutes to allow it to swell, then dost the paste-board with meal, turn out the dough and give it a vigorous kneading. Cover it with the cloth a few minutes, and proceed at once to roll it out to the eighth of an inch in thick ness; cut it in five pieces and partly cook them on a griddle, then finish them by toasting them in front of the fire. Mutton Hams.—As a change from a too frequent pork, eggs and poultry diet, mutton hams would be very desira ble. A sheep slaughtered occasionally would furnish sue fflent fresh meat for a week’s consumption, without the legs and shoulders. These may be cured as bams and furnish a toothsome change of diet either sliced raw or lightly broiled over clear coals. To cure the hams, proceed as follows: the legs of a fat sheep are out into the shape of hams, and rubbed over with a mixture of equal parts of bay salt and brown sngar. They then remain twenty-four hoars A pickle is made as follow?: Two pounds each of bay and common white salt, six onnoes of saltpetre and one pound of biown sugar are boiled in four quarts of water, the liquid being skimmed as it boils; when the pickle is cold the hams are put into it and kept covered for two weeks. They are then taken out, wiped dry, hung up, and smoked over a slow fire of damp wheat straw. The knuckles should be filled with brown sugar and tied over closely with pieces of bladder. The hams are then hang up m a dry, cool place or packed in a close box or barrel in chaff or finely cut straw. An improvement to pea soup is made by adding a few leaves of mint and a shred of onion to the parsley garnish. In Europe a dish is made of the boiled pod*, and they are served as a vegeta ble, but a more delicate way is to turn them into soap by boiling them until they can be strained torongh a colander, then adding a little draw butter, flour thickening, and milk just heated to scalding. The true votary of pea soap never wants it made from the peas; the pods have quite a different and better taste, and the peas are then served for the vegetable course or for the next day, by A fancy dish of potatoes is made pressing mashed potatoes through colander; let them lie lightly in the dish jnst as they fall, and then set them in the oven to brown. They should be well seasoned with batter, pepper anc salt before they are put through the colander. If you like potatoes prep in thia way, it is a tima paving invention to have a colander made for this purpose. Take an ordinary tin pan, and have holes pouched in the bottom of the size you require; it will then take bnt a few minutes to prepare a large dish. Sally Lunn.—Three eggs, one pint of swett milk, salt, two tablespoonfuls of lard or batter (or one tablespoonful of each) melted, three pints of flour, half a pint of hop yeast. Separate the yolks and whites of the eggs and beat them very light. Add the milk to the yolks, then the salt and flower and white?. Stir in the yeast and boat & together until very light. Butter large “Turk’s head” or two small ones, pour in the batter and let it rise three hoars in this weather. Bake an honr or longer in a moderate oven and serve it hot. of Strawberry Sponge Cake.—Make costard cf one quart of milk, a cup sugar and the yolks of four eggs. Fla vor when cold. Slice one stale sponge cake and cover the bottom of a glass dish with it, moisten the cake with the custard, over this spread a layer of ripe strawberries, then another layer o: sponge cake, and again a layer of straw hemes; sprinkle the fruit with powdered sugar, beat the whites of the eggs stiff, whip into the eggs some strawberry juice well sweetened, spread the merin gue smoothly on top and ornament with bright scarlet berries. If onions which are to be boiled are put in salted water after they are peeled and are allowed to remain in it for an hour before they are cooked, they wil lose so much of their distinctive flavor that they will rarely remind one hours after of what he hid for dinner. On ions that are to be eaten raw may be treated in the same way. Both onions and cabbage should have the first water poured off after they have cooked fifteen minutes and renewed from the boiling tea-kettle. A water ioe, to be served in glasses. One cup of loaf sugar with the juice of six lemons squeezed over it, half a pint of water, and a syrup made by boilinr three-quarters of a pound of sugar in a little less than a pint of water; let this stand in a large earthen jar or dish for an hour and a half, then mix the lemon, Ac., with it. strain it and freeze. If you wish to make this a pretty as well as pleasing to the taste, add the whites of eggs beaten to a froth with powdered sugar mixed with them; pu ; this on top of each glass. Wobth Trying.—If green peas are shelled and then put in dry, open- mouthed bottler, and are shaken togeth er so as to occupy as little space as pos sible, then are tightly corked and are sealed, it is said that they will keep three or four months. They must, how ever, be boned In dry earth in the cellar. Strawberry Crusts.—A box of straw berries and a dozen buns. Split and outter some small round buns; let them get hot in the oven. Bruise the straw berries slightly so that the juice will run, strew powdered sugar on them pour over the buns while hot, and let them stand in a glass or china dish until cold, before serving. The crushed strawberry on the table- olotn, can be removed by spreading that part of the cloth tight over the top of a bow and pouring boiling water over it until it disappears. Millet and Hungarian Grass’^Ml- let is entirely a summer crop, and tne seed should not go in the gronnd nntil warm weather has been assured. It i specially adapted to light sandy soil?, upon which large crops can be grown, but thrives well, also, on soils that are heavier. The richer the .soil the tetter, bnt it is very important to first get the seed bed in a fine pulverized condition. Plow deep and harrow several times be fore seeding, using a brash for covering in. If the location is in a good, nch and suitable portion of the field, the seed should be sown thickly, for the finer the stalks the tenderer and more palatable the hay, bnt where it is sown for the purpose of obtaining seed for the succeeding season it should be done in drills, using less seed, though it may be broadcasted if necessary. The appearance of millet while grow ing is that of ihickly-sown dwarf corn, the leaves being broad, covering the gronnd comph tely. It grows very rap idly, especially during warm weather,if there has been a plentiful supply of moisture,and it also stands the drought admirably. The tall German giant mil let is the variety usually preferred. Hungarian grass is very similar to millet, both belonging to the same fam ily of plants, but while millet can only be cropped once Hungarian grass ftu- nishes successive cuttings until fall, which is an advantage when the soiling system is practiced with stock, but ii does not grow as tall as millet or give such heavy yields at the times of cut ting. As a hay crop for winter use mil let should be preferred. Millet and Hnngarian grass are highly relished by all kinds of stock,especially if out and cured before seeding. The heads may shoot to seed, but the cut ting must not be delayed leng enough to allow the seed to mature. Cured the same as ordinary hay and stored in tbe barn, the leaves do not crumble to pie ces easily, like clover, and when ran through a cutter and seasoned with meal, bran and a little salt, tbe mass n akes almost a complete food. These crops ara mclhpi usable in places b at are not adapted to clover and other grasses, as they are but grow and mature tine. As renovating crops they are excel lent, for a large crop of millet or Hun garian grass turned under furnishes a mass of green manure that nt ver fails to restore the soil to its original fertility where it has not been (topped for grain too largely. Whenever the crop is in tended for giet n manure it should be seeded down thickly and cut before the heads form, first giving the standing crop a good (lusting of time on a damp day, lotlowmg with a plow and chain. As both crops grow ou very inferior sandy soil to a certain extent they afford a means of tnriching the soil until it is fitted for other crops, but it is well to bear in mind that all green manure is more effectual when used in company with lime. If mcetsaiy, two crops can be grown and plowed under the same season, Hoeino a Substitute for Rain.— Hoeing and the frequent stirring of the surface of the soil are good Bnbstitntes for rain. Those parts of the garden that are most irequi ntly cultivated show the best rtsuite. It is probable that born, watente’ons, tomatoes, Lima beans and cabbage, and possibly other plants, if well started in good soil, may go through a two months’ dromiht with out very serious damage. A deep.well- manured soil suffers much lees than a shallow soil. Subsoiling and manure are, to a certain extent, substitutes for rain. Moisture comes from below. Un- detdrainmg is also a safeguard against drought. The course of the drains in the garden can easily be marked in a dry season by the ranker growth of vegetation abive them. Irrigation in many parts of the North will pay. The soil, if well prepared, could nse to good advantage twice the quantity of water it receives from rains during the dry months of summer. not only certain in a yery short The Agriculturist tells how to make a two-story milking stool that presents a number of conveniences. A board the width of an ordinary stool seat and twice the length forms the first floor and rests upon four stout legs. The two rear legs pass up through the long board and furnish two legs for a short board above that forms the seat, two front legs being placed in the stool. A cleat is placed on the front edge of the long board to keep the pail, which is set on the front naif of the first floor, from falling off daring the process of milking. This arrangement prevent? any necessity for placing the pail on the ground and brings it nearer to the udder. Frequem cultivation is a good sub stitute tor manure, but pays much bet ter with manure than without. This we have tried on garden crops,especial ly potatoes, cabbage, beans, onions and other root crops. An old saw has ooxne down to ns from the fathers that he wiio would have early cabbage sprouts must hoe them every morning before breakfast We have tried tins in spring time for mornings enough to prove that it is not one of the old wives’ fables. In tbe early morning the dew is on, and this is charged with an available amount of ammonia, which, of course, feeds the roots below. If the surface is neglec ted a crust forma and the ail- does not circulate in the soil. It is often desirable to know which is the most profitable way to sell fowls— alive,dressed or both dressed and drawn. To find out weigh the fowl alive, then after it is dressed and again after being drawn. Record tbe weight in each case, and then a little figuring, with weight and market prices as basis, will soon tell the inquirer what he wants to know. Generally, we think, it will be found that selling alive pays about as well as to dress, particularly if the own er s time is valuable and he is not an expert at picking. Those who buy and dress for market on a large aeale ara generally experts themselves at thia work or have such “artists” in their employ. The quantity of food needed by stock varies even among animals of the same »ge and breed, and it necessarily varies o a greater extent among animals of lifferent breeds. Upon this subject a farmer in England says it is sufficiently correct to reckon on a sheep consuming twenty, eight pounds of green food, an ox or cow 150' pounds, a calf forty pounds and a yearling eighty pound? d&ilj. At thia rate an ox or cow oon* aumes as much as five sheep. The lat er will require 10,220 pounds or nearly five tons apiece, the former 64,7M Jounds, or nearly twenty-five tons ol i {teen food, for its yearly maintenance.