University of South Carolina Libraries
? ? ~ ? ?- ' | BY HUGH WILSON AND H. T. WARDLAW. ABBEVILLE, S. C.. WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 18. 1882. ' VOLUME XXYI. .. , | Recompense. The earth gives ns treasuro four-fold for all that we give to its bosom; The care wo bestow on tho plant comes back in the bud and tho blossom. The sun draws tho eoa to tho sky, Oh, stillest and strangest of powers, And returns to tho hills and tho meadows the gladness of bountiful showers. The mother regains her lost youth in the beauty and youth of her daughters, We are fei after many long clays by the bread I that wo c*et on the waters. JKever a Joy do we cause but we for that joy are j the gladder. Sever a heart do wo grieve but we for the | grieving are sadder. 3fever a ftlander so vile as the lips of the will- j ing rehearser. And curses, though long, loud, and deep, come homo to abide with the enrser. He who doth givo of liis beat, of that beet is tho j certainest user, j And he who withholds finds himself of liia | gaining the pitiful loser. i The flowers that are strewn lor tho dead bloom j first in the heart of the living, And thia is the truest of truths, that the best j of a gift is the giving 1 ? I'arlotta Perry. ST. STEPHEN'S CHOIR. Evening service was jnst over and I! ( lean over the balcony of the organ loft; to watch the people passing out. Very !. few are worth looking at, I think, with j 1 intnlem/noo nf q vnnnrr nml nrnrtv ! . girl for less favored mortals. A pood J. many look up at me; but I have held | \ the position of soprano t St. Stephen's i for three months and ai. rather hard- j j ened to the public ga^e. Suddenly I j ( meet the admiring eyes of a tall, hand-1 j some stranger, and coloring slightly 11 j draw back out of sight. The next in- j t stant I involuntarily bend forward to ; a catch the last glimpse of him, and as r my wrist strikes the railing the fragile clasp of my bracelet snaps and it falls j over into the throng. It is my poor dead mother's bracelet, j almost my only ornament, and I would not lose it for the world. Ju6t as I am ?bout to send Jaok Lewie, my sworn j knight, downstairs after it, the stranger enters the organ loft and comes directly t to me. He is very handsome, certainly, ? "With the easy, gracious bearing ot a j prince. But my loyal heart refuses to t>elieve that he is so noble and true as ^ Jack Lewis. t "I think this bracelet is yours, Miss j. Hastings," he baid. "1 saw it drop e from your wrist and caught it before it struck the floor." a "Thank you ever bo ipuch!" I say , gratefully, extending my band; he f pinions it firmly in one of his own, : while with the other he replaces and >, fastens the bracelet. The action is ^ deferential, yet so familiar that I stand T embarrassed, flushing all over. An v utter stranger to hold my hand so! c Why, even Jack? I begin to think this t man is rude; I can feel his bold eyes c, resting on my carmine cheeks, my j mouth, my long, down-dropped lashes, : and for once in my life I wish I was not g quite so pretty. _ "I heard there was a rare voice up at : St. Stephen's, and I was not misin- ? formed. I have been delighted with * your singing, Miss Hastings," he says, ^ warmly. " You are very kind," I say, dimpling ? with pleasure. , "There!" handing me his card. r " Let me introduce myself, and you will j. see that I am something of a critic." Balph Arlington! I recognize the j. name of a wealthy amateur musician be- ^ longing tothe great world of fashion in which I have no part. I thank him once more for the service he has done me, and am turning away when he says, jquite eagerly: j " I perceive you are unattended, Miss t Hastings. May I escort you home?" Before I can'reply to this audacious j jjrupuoai unun. ucwis niit-rvt-ucs, aiuiuoi j pushing Mr. Arlington aside, and turning his back full upon hiin. "Olive, here's your ulster; let me help you on with it. It's beginning to j snow, and you have a long distance to i go." j Mr. Arlington, thus supplanted, retreats politely, and strolls over to the organ where Tom Thurstono is still sitting. Tom knows him, and greets him cordially; then introduces him to Susie ( Woodward, the alto, and Emil Mesmer, ( the basso. They are all chatting gayly ( together when Jack and I go downstairs and out into the snowy night. ^ " Jack, why didn't you let us alone?" I begin, rather petulantly. "Mr. Ar- ^ lington was saying the kindest things , about my voice." 41 Ob. you'll see him again, never fear. You're far and away the prettiest girl he knows, and he will not be con- ^ tent with one meeting." ilTTU.il U- ,7~ . Uttl lit? uu uuium^j uuu run after attractive young ladies?" I j ask, curiously. "That's about where it lights," says Jack, concisely; he understands the fnll force and value of sl\ng; "though J the married ones are more in his line, , I believe." " How uncharitable you are ! Wasn't it odd about my bracelet!" " He will think you dropped it on purpose at sight of him." "Ah. well, I shall never see him' again." " I'll lay you five to one?" j ; " I never b9t; but I tliink if be were | so unprincipled as you say he would '! "have kept my bracelet." " As if Ralph Arlington would care : to steal that little thin thing ?' Jack laughs. This reflection on my cherished treas-! ur^ mortally offends me, and I tradgo on in sulky silence for a block, but Jack ; is so contrite that I am n ollified long before we reach Mrs. Babbitt's cheap boarding place, which is my only home, j j TVc stand a few moments at the gate, j' - The snow-flakes are falling thick und j white on Jack's shoulders; one or two j drop like gentle kisses on my uplifted , face. "It's more than polite, it's extremely j kind of you to come all this long way , with me, Jack," I say, earnestly. ; "I only wish there was something I; could do for you in return." "There ia something you can do. I'll i tell you all about it soon. Good night, j darling." Re presses my hand and is gone. I enter the house, rush up to my lit- j tie carpetless room and fling myself' down on my knees, my heart beating wildly to the mnsic of those last words. I forget that I am a friendless orphan, i alone in a great strange city: I forget i tho humiliatiug fact that I am forced to j give my voice in exchange for my daily | bread, while all the rest of our choir are generous volunteers; one happy i thought excludes all others?Jack has j called me darling! It is 10 o'clock next morning before i I remember the existence of anv other ' man. I am practicing at the miserable ; ruiii which Mrs. Babbitt calls a piano, when that lady enters the room, bearing Mr. Arlington's card and a big box containing a magnificent bouquet of rare exotics. "A servant in livery brung 'um," says j Mrs. Babbitt, sourly. "Them there i flowers must a cost all o' five dollars." j " That makes it all the better!" I say, \ gayly, meeting her hard, cold, suspi-; cious eyes with an untroubled laugh. Why does she dislike my getting such 1 a lovely gift ? By the end of the week their glorious : color and fragrance has succumbed to : the icy atmosphere of the parlor?my own room is verily the Arctic Zone it- ] solf. To my delight the offering is j repeated on Friday. This time Mrs. Babbitt uerely flings the box on the piano, and stulks out without a word. I look after her with wonderingweyos. " Poor old thing! how sho envies! me I" I say, ccicpaseionately, and bend-' ing over the mass of bloom in perfect content. Mr. Arlington appears to me the most thoughtful, generous gentlein the world. surprised to And him at the evening, and when me home I . J acqufresc'C Jreadily. Jack looks so hurt and angry that I huiry across to the < little closet where he is arranging the j ^ music books. ( "Jack, I couldn't help it. I did it c out of pure gratitude. He has sent me r. the two loveliest bouquets I ever saw." t "And wnat would you say if I asked c you to receive no more flowers from ; him ?" ' c "I should say you were jealous 1" I li answer, promptly. "Olive, I warn you as I would a sis- 1 ter," he says, very gravely. " You will ] be compromised." i s " Compromised ?'* I repeat, vaguely, i "Yes ; it eeoras horrible that people ' 1 should talk about a poor little innocent s baby like you?but they will!" , ? I feel rather awed for a moment; j r then I say, blindly: "Ali, well, it | c doesn't matter long as my own con- c science is clear !" .And 1 go back to Mi. Arlington arm we set out. i It is such r.u cud sensation to be walking with any one but Jack ! Some- I how the distance seem* lonrer than j usual. When we reach Mrs. Bab- j 1 bitt's my cscoit asks permission to s come in and get warm, and I cannot ! t refneo, though I blush for the shabby parlor, where ice cream wouldn't melt, g But Mr. Arlington ajiparently sees j nothing amiss and remains for a pleas- v ant half hour. . fi As I go up to my room I meet my n landlady iu the hall; she scowls and j doesn't answer when I bid her good- h Dight. That woman grows uglier every d Say. g Next evening Mr. Arlington is again it church, but Jack whisks mo away si tvith him immediately alter service. " The funniest thing happened to- ; si light," I say, as soon as we are in the si street. "Yon know how stout Mr. \Iesmer is? Well, Miss Woodward ei landed him a paper Tom Thurstono [ jave her, supposing it was the list of si lext Sunday's music. Poor Mesmer w ooked at her all tho evening in the nost heartbroken, reproachful way ; ! st md no wonder for Tom whispered to J te ue it was an anti-fat circular!" i pi Jack pays no heed to this entertain- j m ng anecdote, but opens fire at once. j ca "Olivo, Arlington went into Mrs. i Ti Jabbitt's with you last evening." J m " How do you know ?" ha " I dare say you will think it odd?I ollowed you!" bi " Odd! It was underhanded, ungen- di lemanly of }*ou!" I say, vehemently. 'And if he came iu for a few minutes tri t's more than you ever cared to do." gc "Olive, dear Olivo," he says, in a on? of keen reproach, "is there any- ot hing I should more enjoy than spend- fo ng a quiet happy hour alone with you at very Sunday evening?" j ta "Then why on earth don't you?" I Ja ,sk, really puzzled. "Mr. Mesmer1 ri< i ?-vl o? j 11 1 T? joes liome Wiru ousie, uuu m*>#y oiug on or Mr. and Mrs. Woodward." I pi " Why, there is no comparison, Olive! t d' Ln unprotectc d orphan like von cannot i m [ream of receiving callers as Miss Woodrard does. And Arlington knows it al cell enough, too; it is wickedly selfish j la f him to pay you finch marked attenion. All his set will Le coming to St. 1 d( Stephen's to see his last fancy !" And j rack grinds his teeth at the idea. " Oh, , " t makes me furious to think of any ! fo lightest breath of scandal resting on i rour name ! Dear, dear Olive!" he i I ;oes on swiftly, "give mo the right to ; ca >rotect you! Be my wife, darling, and our life will be free from all that makes ; so hard now!" m "Oh!" I say, breathlessly; I am only hi ;ighteen, and this is my first offer. y< Oh, I have only known you three nonths. I am sure, quite, quite sure i ai hat I shall never wish to marry you!" j tl Why doesn't he urge me to take time j n< ? if 0 T-r* KaaVc fVlZJTT altTOVQ ! 00 u m xu wwvuo vuvj w* ?n?jw I ok lo. He only saye, slowly: " This would not have been your an-1 et iwer a week ago, Olive." < ! le Then we are silent. I am wishing he i b< vould ask me again, and am wondering fc n what delicato manner I can let him lnderstani my perfect willingness to m etract my hasty refusal. At the gate flj le hands me some tiny thing wrapped w n tissue paper. cc "I hoped that might be our engagenent ring," he says, sadly. "At any i ate, wear it for friendship sake." Then ie stoops suddenly and kisses my )row, oh, so tenderly! "Good-bye, ! w ny little girl," he whispers, and strides i apidly away. tc "It will surely be all right when we , sc ? * - i l j T i _ neei again, i say in my neart, auu x k nsh upstairs aud spend a happy hcrar u: examining my little ring, sparkling with ; ci liamonds and turquoises, by the re- di iplendent light of one tallow candle. ; h But all the next week I long in vain i li !or a letter from him. Nothing comes tl save two bouquets and three visits from a Mr. Arlington. Ism flattered, of course, i o fet wretched lest Jack should hear of p it and be angry. Next Saturday and Sunday evenings n [ look at Jack as imploringly as I dare, g] bnt he is so occupied with some of the ai poung ladies that he does not even ap- r< peai to see me, and I have no other , tl choice but to accept Mr. Arlington's | sscort. j s Another week and then another' h drags heavily by. My new admirer : f< takes me driving, to the opera, and is j tl unremitting in his attention, but v nothing lightens my grieving heart. I j c can't forgi to him for coming between j " me and Jack. tl And every day I see more plainly ; tl there is something else I can't forgive f< ' * * *? v.a/\..1a V?otta ka/mn Ia 4 q 1 lr TVf r? O uirn?jjcupao 11 aw uv^uu ?/v iuiua ^ Babbitt's manner frightens me, it is so y cold and forbidding; the boarders smile n or sueer knowingly as I pass them ou ]j the stairs; even the young ladies I meet fj at church begin to regard me with sus- tl picion and aversion. A dread of some u calamity hourly grows upon mo. s The climax of all this annoyance n comes one evening. Just as I am going , j to rehearsal Mrs. Babbitt en ers my ! I i-oom abruptly, and stares at the finger tl where my precious ring is thining. I t; gaze back at her in vague terror and un- t easiness. 1j "Where did you get that there gew- i ti gaw, Miss Hastings?" she asks, sharply. 1 ? I lift my head haughtily, surprised v beyond words. She goes on in a rough t coarse way: a " It was bad enough for you to take ! j: young Arlington's flowers and music, v but when you have the brass to wear v his jewelry it's high time you left a | \i respectable woman's house!" : I Oh, my God! This, then, is what they v think of me! I shiver and gasp; the <3 blood forsakes my cheeks. v "When you come homo to-night c you'll find your wretched little trunk on n tho front stoop with every dud o' vourn rj in it. Don't ask to stay another night j r*r\r\f1 nomrt TQ /'lofln fOVlA 1, JUUlD"~JUUi ^UUU UHU4V W4VMM QV..V | ^ rorever!" 11 " Oh, Mrs. Babbitt, for heaven's sake : t don't read me awav! Wlu rc can I go? ' f What, shall I do?" " 1 i "Ask Ralph Arlington!" she an- a swers, with a brutal laugh. I < Then I bury my face in my hands j j aud fly past her, out into the darken- j fc ing streets, where no one can see the i t shamed hot blood in my cheeks. I c "Ob, mamma, mamma! if I could 1 a only dip aud go to you 1" I cry with a 11 wild sob. I have not one coherent i ? thought till I reach the church; then 1 \ think that perhaps Susie Woodward a will take me homo with ber. No; her greeting is strangely chill to-night, and I can see that she avoids me. Oh, this weary, weary evening! I ; grow more helpless and terrified every j' moment. But just at the last moment j I a ray of light comes to me. Some one |' passes me a little note. jf "Sweetest' Olive? I have just de-1, cided to ask you to bo my wife. You >; need not write or say anything, only j turn vour lovely face toward me, and I j' shall kuosv that your answer is yes. "Ralph Arlington." His boastful certainty angers me, but J * iji- t 5 1 xi. i eaten at tne one nann ueiu uui iysave me. Even while I say in my heart "I hate him, I loathe him," I turn my face blindly in his direction. In a strange mingling of relief and pain I droop my head languidly down on tho rail before me. The organ is thundering out the grand^music, the young people trimming the church are laughing gayly below; but I can only feel that I have bid{ den farewell to happiness?and Jack. i i We are almost the last to leave the ;hoir, so much do I dread being alone vitli Mr. Arlington, but at last wo go lownstairs, across the almost empty ;hurch, and into the unlighted church. Chen ho clasps ray hand tightly, and in he darkness I can feel him bending )ver me. "Oh, I'vo forgotten my book!" I ^rv, desperately. " I must run back for t." "What a nuisance! Let mo go!" le says, rather impatiently. "No?no, you couldn't find it," I lay, and tliankfnl for even a moment's espite I hurry back to the organ loft. i.t first I can distinguish nothing in the :oft, dusky gloom, spicy with tho frap-ance of tho evergreens, bnt soon I nake out a man's figure stajding by the >rgan. It is Jack ! I run to him and iitch his bands fjanticallv in mv own. "Ob, Jack, I'm so wretched. Arington bus asked rje to marrv him?" " Then be is boller than I thought iim!" "And 1 ba-1 to say yrs, for Mrs. Bib>itt has turned mo out; but I'm so orry I He might?be migbt even want o kiss me!" "Quite likely," siys Jack, with a rim smile; but be looks deeply moved. "Don't laugh 1" I say, piteously. "I ron't marry him?I'll die in the streets irst! Oh, I hear him coming?hide ae, save me!" Quis\ as thought Jack draws mo after im into the book closet, and closes the oor just as Mr. Arlington enters tho allery. "The little minx, she bas slijjpod out i Dme other door!" he says, in vexation. Couldn't believe I was in earnest, I i?wAOrt " An/3 lin liooforxjrl niY in jit. " Wliut an escape I" I say, as we . nerge from the closet. " Darling,'' begins Jack, with pas- | onate eagerness, "darling Olive,1 ould you rather that?" " Yes?yes, a thousand times!" I anrer, and then break down into the i mpeft of sobs and tears I have re- j eased all the evening. Jack soothes e tenderly with loving words and ! messes I have never known before lie rich incense of the evergreens wraps ( 5 in a delicious languor; 1 feel that I; ive found a blessed haven of rest. .Presently I raise my head from his i east, and look up with my poor! owned eyes. ''Jack, you mustn't marry me," I fay, ; agically. "Mv good name is clean >ne forever?Mrs. Babbitt says so !" " TVnll tlinn T mtist. vein an. her, sweet," he pays, blithely, and be- ; re I half comprehend him we are clown i the altar, where the minister is still Iking with one of the. deacons, and ck is saying that we wish to be marjd immediately. We kneel down, j .ck in his overcoat, I in my nlster and ain Derby hat; Jack uses my gage j amitie as a wedding ring, and in five i inntes we are husband and wife. We go out into the street, and walk ong rather solemnly under the snowden trees and clear, starry heavens. 1 Jack, my trunk is on that woman's jorstep," I say, diffidently. "Good!" ho Bays, with a joyous laugh. Since you are all ready, let us go off r a wedding trip." " Oh, but traveling's very expensive," j say, dubiously. "Do you think you j tn afford it ?" He laughs again. "I may not be such a wonderful atch as' Arlington, darling, but you ive made rather a good marriage, do j 3u know it ? Hallo there, driver I" 1 T-r l -i? ; 1 j | ne naus a passing nacs, ana ?? gu id pick up my forlorn property, and i ten start off on our joyful little jour-: sy, while every moment I feel more j ife and happy. I really don't know how Tom Thur- j one managed the service without the j ading tenor and soprano, but we have ;en so faithful ever since that he has I rgiven us. I suppose Mr. Arlington considers ' e the most heartless, cold-blooded | irt in existence. He is very polite hen we meet in society, but he never >mes into St. Stephen's choir. Bogns Brilliants. "How do your diamonds compare! ith the crenuine ?" " Pat them side by eido and you can't; 11 them apart. Let mo show you ! >me samples," and the dealer turned j > his iron safe and got out a box of! nset " diamonds" of about three | irats each. Handing the Rcribe a! ainty pair of tweezers he requested j im to examine the stones before the | ght. The reporter picked up one of j le gems as carefully as though it were $20,000 stone, and held it before his ptics. It sparkled brilliantly, ^ as cut erfectly, and anybody but an expert ould suppose it to be a genuine diamond. The reporter wae tempted to lip the stone up his sleeve, until he sked the price of it, when, getting the *ply, " One dollar," he dropped it as tiouRh it was poisonous. "Hare are some thirtv beautiful pecimens," remarked the merchant, as e unfolded another paper and laid bejre the scribe half a dozen stones about he size of a door knob. These are orn principally by gamblers on acount of their extraordinary size. They come a great deal higher than hose others I have shown you. I sell heso at 82.50 apiece, or a pair of them sr a serio-comic singer's earring3 at 4 25. Thoy are exceedingly brilliant, ou see, and at night shine like a locolotivo headlight. Here are a lot of ittle diamonds that sell from twentyveto seventy-five cents each." "Are hose made of paste or fishscales ?" " Oh, o; I never deal in paste goods. These tones come from the Sierra Nevada lountains, and are cut and polished in lew York ; and some are even sent to 'aris to be cut and are then returned to his country. They are the best imitaion of tho diamond made, and retain heir brilliancy forever. Not being as tard as the diamond, care has to be aken in not getting them scratched." 1 Yon remarked before that the trade ras Bimply immense. 1 suppose ma: he second or middle class of society re the greatest purchasers of these mitationsV" "That's where your're rrong. The principal buyers and rearers of ' snide ' diamonds are those rho move in the highest society, and '11 tell you the reason why. Let a lady rho counts her wealth by the hunIreds of thousands appear in public rith a pair of six or eight arat 'diamond' earrings, and the people lever suspect that they are '6nide." L'hey imagine that because the wearer s wealthy she would never degrade lerself by wear two-dollar diamonds, >ut such is the case. Hundreds of iuies have I matched genuine diamonds or high-toned ladies, and it is actually mpossible to tell them apart. You ee, when a pereon of wealth wears snide' diamonds, you can hardly make jeoplo believe that they are anything lse than gennine; while, on the other land, let a person in more reduced ciriumstances wear genuine diamonds, md everybody they meet will turn np heir noses and remark they aro 'snide.' io that is the reason the people of vealth can throw on so much style with rery little expense."?Cincinnati Star. The I'ostolliee in America. The postoflico existed in America 'rom its earliest settlement. At the beginning it was merely a receptacle in :he coffee honse. There letters that irrived from abroad were deposited, ind then taken by those to whom they svero addressed, or deuvereu oj neignbors. In tho records of tbe general court of Massachusetts for 1639, we find that notice "be given that Richard Fairbanks, his house in Boston, is tbe place appointed for all letters which are brought beyond the seas, or are to be sent thither, to be left with him; and ho is to take care that they are to be delivered or sent according tothedirections; and he is allowed for every lettei a penny, and must answer all miscarriages through his own neglect ir this kind." Every one is weary; the poor in seek ing, the rich in keeping, the good k learrning. THE PLOTS OF PRISONERS. How iIn* Convict* In Auburn 1'rlnon Plnn i to Kxrnpc?Muklni: IuiplcmrntN to Itrcnk Out of I'rioon Willi. Holts and bars and walls bnilt to re; sis* the teeth of time are net always snfiicieut to restrain the convicts in the ! State prison at~Anbnrn, N. Y. Conj finement seems to sharpen the wits of tho prisoners, and not only lmve they been known to devise succcssfnl plans ; to escape, bnt to invent most ingenious appliances and machinery. Every morning the contractor drives in through i the north gate, and receiving his load of three or four barrels at the kitchen drives out again. A convict soveral years ago thought he saw in the swillbarrel a means of escape, and he "oroceeded to put his idea into operation. Ele enveloped bis head in cloths and #ot into a barrel of liquid swill. The gatekeeper is provided with n long iron rod, and is required t > pi obe or examine every load, no matter wh.t it may be that leaves tbe pri.-on. When (he wagon readied the gale tbe keeper run the rod into the barrel in which the convict was concealed. It struck an obstruction, and he plunged it again with considerable force. He was amazed to see a filthy object emerge from the swill i and utter a muffled cry of pain. It did not take the keeper long, however, to determine that it was a convict attempti ing to escape. The clever plot of the prisoner created a good deal of comment at tbe time. A prisoner once disappeared and no trace of him could be found. The officers searched for a week without avail. Finally, after all efforts had been given up, tbe keeper of the tailor shop one day instructed his men to remove the pieces of cloth, of which there was a great quantity, from beneath the cutting-bench. Tbe bench was entirely closed, with the exception of a small aperture into which tbe odds and ends were thrown, and while the pieces were being taken out the missing convict was unearthed. The man had been waiting for an opportunity to get outside the walls, but he waited one day too many it proved. He had been fed regularly by other convicts, who brought him food in their pockets from the mess-room. Three or four years ago, when the prison was crowded with 1,500 convicts, a great many slept in a largo room in the top of the main building, known as the " old hospital." These men imagined that liberty was within their reach, and they made an attempt to effect their escape. They cut their way through the woodwork to the roof, and only the tin covering remained to be removed. The night was appointed for the delivery, but when tho men put their heads up through the opening they were confronted with a row of revolvers in the hands of officers. Some one had revealed the scheme, and the authorities had been forewarned. Had this plan been successful the population of tho prison would have been decreased some two hundred. Five years ago a convict employed in the toolshop, which is no longer operated, made a bold venture. The tools wero packed in boxes some three and a half feet long, two feet wide and twenty inches deep. The man attached cleuts and a button to one of tho boards comprising the cover in such a whv that he could shut himeulf in. To cc nceal the deception he drovo heads of nails into the board so that it looked a3 if it was nailed down. Tho contractors had another shop in what is known as " Hackney," in tho northwestern part of the city, whither all tools were taken before being shipped. The convict ensconced himself in his narrow quarters, and the box was loaded on a wagon with a number of others. Ho waited until he thought the prison had been left behind, and then raised tho cover to survey his surround rags. He was observed by the driver, a young man, rroTrn o nrlif nn orJ Tt.11 an/I inmnAfl from the wagon. A guard happened to be in a grocery store in front of which the convict made his appearanpe, and he caught a glimpse of tbe head in the box. The escaping prisoner recognized him, and, leaping from the wagun, ran as fast aa his legs would carry him. The guard followed, and, as tho fugitive would not stop in response to repeated commands, fired a ball into his leg, which put an end to the chase. Citizens are employed in the prison shops in large numbers, and they pass in and out without any questions being asked. A ennvict once embraced tho opportunity that this practice affords. He secured a pair of overalls and a blouse, and shouldering a vise walked past the guards. Wiien he reached the street ho threw down the vise and made for the country. Slipping out of tue ranks is one of the practices of convicts as the preliminary step to an escape. One cold winter morning, while it was still dark, two convicts left their places 1 in line. Tlaey had previously obtained a long piece of wire, and attaching a hook to one end they tore up their bedclothing and wound it tightlyabout it, This made a stiff rope; and reaching it up they caught the hook on the bars of the window in the story above. They climbed up from window to window until they reached the roof, from which they expected to descend lo a low side wall and drop to the ground, i Their abscnce had been discovI ered, however, and just as they were descending they were detected by the officers who were looking for them. The escape of "By" Day was well planned. He feigned sickness, and was I loft in his cell. When tho keeper ' shook the cell-door at night Day did I not respond. Instead of compelling ; the man to answer, as he should have ! done, he looked through tho grated door and saw a form lying in bed with a newspaper over the head. Ho thought Day was sleeping, and supposed the paper was to prevent his being disturbed 1 by flies. The next morning a dummy I stuffed with straw was found in Day's i cot, but "By" had disappeared. He ' had relea&ed himself from his cell with ; a faise key, and, getting upon tho roof, had gone down to the ground. He was ; afterward recaptured. i 5,If all the tools 'and appliances used by prisoners in attempting or accom 1 plishing escupo bad been paved a i museum might be established. He, the convicts obtain these tools is a question easily answered. They mike them. | Instruments weighing as much as fifty ; pounds have been made under the very eyes of the officers, and they were none j tiio wiser for it. If a man is employed : about iron-working machinery, he will ' And time to manufacture jacks, jimmies, levers, bars, keys, and other im; plements. Very often these tools are I the finest specimens of workmanship, and any artisaij might be proud to own them as his handiwork. Complete burglars' kits have been manufactured in the prison and smuggled outside to do service in " cracking" banks. One generous-hearted convict proposed to liberate half the prisoners in I fli? inofifiifinn T1a nvoflltWI n t)ipfv> , t _ x j of gas pipe and made from it a key to | fit the locks of tho coll doors. He had planned to spring the lever of his cell i with a jimmy, thus releasing himself, ! and to nnlock as rouny doors as he ! could with the key before he was disj covered. Then he anticipated loading the men against the guards and fighting his way to liberty. The key was found in the possession of tho sanguine prisoner before he had an opportunity to use it. In tho office of the agent j and warden are two jimmies remarkable j for their line construction. The handles,' j which can be detached, are turned in i fanciful shape, and to any burglar the ! tools would be a rare prize. Desperate . ii? /! unf ir.frwi-niimHv VA. i .sorted to in attempting escape. : Several times file hat> broken I ont in the prison, and has baen found i to be the work convicts. There is a . j fire brigade composed of picked men, , | who nro supposed to be trustworthy, . I bnt i has been shown that tbey caunol be relied upon. At nearly every fire . inside the walls the prisoner:; have cui i the hose and done everything in theii power to advance the flames, in thevair hope that the whole institution wouk" . burn down. t j The most despised creature in] th< j prison is a squealer," as the convicti - ~ ' . term a prisoner who learns of plans to escapo and reveals them. If he is known to be a tale-bearer be is not only ostracised by the others, but life is made | as miserable for him as possible. A Sioux Bill of Fare. One of the peculiarities of the latest United States style of feeding the noble red man is the fact that he is given government, rations, and at the same time appropriations are made which are supposed to maintain him. Sometimes a wild Indian who don't know mncli about groceries and how to prepare mem ior iuuu, cumea ju mm draws his regular soldier ration in this way. For instance, up in the Sitting Bull country awhile ago, an Indian oauie in from the warpath who had never seen any of the paleface style of food, and drew his rations. He made a light meal of ungronnd coffee fhe first day, and as he overate, aud the coffee swelled in him, he had diilicnlty in buttoning his pants around j fhe pain that he had on hand. He felt very unhappy for a day or two, but laid it to the fact that he hadn't exercised much, and tho consequent ennui and indigestion jesulting therefrom. As soon as he succeeded in getting tho interior departments quieted down a little, he at? hia ration of candles. These ho decided to par-boil, in order to uvcid trouble of indigestion. Tho dish was not so much of a glittering success as he had anticipated, and as lie remorselessly picked the candle wick out of bis teeth, with a ten piD, he made some remark that grated harshly on the lesthetic ears of those who stood near. Ho then tried a meal of yeast powder ? *il - * TT _ A. Xf. ^ Willi vinegar. n? w?ji< me juust powder and then took a pint of extremely potent vinegar to wash it down. At first there was a feeling of glad surprise in his stomach, which rapidly gave place to unavailing remorse. A can of yeast powder in an Indian's midst don't seem to be prepared for a pint of vinegar, and the result of such an unfortunate combination is not gratifying. Every little while a look of pain would come over the features of the noble . child of the forest, and then he would jump about seventeen feet and try to kick a cloud out of the sky. Then ho would sit down and think over his past life. It took about a week for him to get back to where he dared to get up another meal for himself. Then he frioaseed a couple of pounds of laundry soap and ato that. Soap is all right for treating apiirof soiled socks, but it does not assimilate with the gastric juices readily, and those who have tried laundry soap as a relish do not seem to think, that it will ever arrive at any degree of prominence as an article of diet. This is why this untutored child of nature swore. He had never received the benefits of early training in profanity, and his language therefore was disconnected and rambling, but when we considor that he was ignorant of our language, and that every little while he had to stop and hold on to his disaster with both hands and dig great holes in the earth with his toes, the remarks didn't seem altogether out of place or irrelevant. When a gallon or so of agitated baking powder and vinegar is singing its little eong in the innermost recesses of an Indian, and this has been followed by a treatment of laundry soap, the student of human nature can lind a wide field for observation in that lo cality. The earnest and occup\ed look, the troubled expression of the countenance, followed by the quick and nervous twitching of the muscles of the face and then the swelling of the body, the bursting of the suspender button, the deep drawn sigh and the smothered cuss word, all betokened the gastric agitation going on within. This is why an Indian prefers a link of bologna sausagas and a two-year-old dog to the- high-priced groceries so common to our modern civilization.? Boomerang. Communication Between Animals. That there is a method of communication between birds when in distress is conclusive to any one who may have made the subject one for investigation. Sometimes this knowledge is made the instrument of their destruction by the x-illftinnns American shrike and other like birds, which uttering the cry of distress, the birds of the neighborhood, eager to help a fellow creature in distress, hasten to the rescue, and ono or | more pay dearly for their heroism oy being captured by the deceiving shrike. [ The cry of danger also seems to be general, for we have noticed birds in aviary, coming from several far separate quarters of llio globe, rush to each other'.'} assistance upon the cry of danger by a bird in another cnge some distance away. Among animals there must likewise ; bo a moUiod of communication and as ! well a sympathy, for it is well known : that many ::uimals, becomiug wounded, j are fed by their brother animals ; not j that it would be expected that a lion ! should look aitrr the welfare of a lamb, i a wolverine that of a moose or deer, a cat a mouse, etc., but umong animals of a kind and some not destructive in their nature there is a general sympathy for the unfortunate. Among animals of the same species it becomes more noticeable One of the most prominent in the care of the helpless is given us in tbe case of what is called a "rat-king;" this is, where by an accident after birth a whole litter of young rats (yet perhaps only a part) becomes connected together by their tails in such a manner that i t is impossible for them to extricate themselves. The cause of this singular occurrence seems to originate by the mother lying upon the toils of the young rats and tossing them about with her head; their tails usually being long, become so entwined that with a little clay accumulating aroand the connecting parts it becomes impossible to separate themselves, and by the time the rat is old enough to leave the care of its parent the sad discovery is made that they are all joined together, and the tails becoming grown in this unnatural position, makes them harder to separate. When this is discovered they are not left to perish by their fellow-rats, which, considering the helplessness cf these unfortunates, take the better care of them than is usual for a more fortunate ono to experience. A short time ago a " rat-king" was discovered and killed near Lcipsic, Germany, of which there were seven members in perfect condition physically, except the deformity of the tips of their tails, which had grown shaped to neatly entwine each other, but the rats were in the very best condition? conclusive that astonishingly good care had boon bestowed upon them by their more fortunate rat brethren. Summary Justice. Independence mining camp, twenty M L T .I'll,, n^v 1 r mues wumi ui jjetiuviiiU) vui., uu? iur a long time been overrun with desperate characters, -who kept it in a perpetual state of turmoil. Ol'fen several of these would baud together and virtually take possession of the camp, shooting men down in the streets and closing stores, blocking business for several hours. Shortly after dark one Saturday I night recently, Patton and Malloy, two *' desperadoes, having the reputation of killing a number of men, becoming intoxicated, started up the street firing revolvers promiscuously. General indignation ensued, and the people I turned out en masse aud pursued the I .Inaimrr./lnni: xrhn wr*.rn linallv lirnnnlit to bay and literally riddled with bill| lets. Tboy returned tho lire of the mob but without effect. A little later a vigilance comraitteo was formed for ; the purpose of hanging three or f.nu > of tho worst blacklegs, but that ciasi ; nearly nil took fright and left town im mediatel*. after tho shooting of Patton i and Malloy There aro twentv thousand Jews ir > Chicago, many of tuem wealthy. The; i own fifteen synagogues. { - HEALTH HINTS. Secrets of Health.?First, keep warm; second, eat regularly and slowly; third, maintain regular bodily habits; fourth, fake early and very light suppers; fifth, keep a clean skin ; get plenty of sleep at night; seventh, keep cheerful and respectable company ; eighth, keep out of debt; ninth, don't set your mind on things you don't need ; tenth, mind your own business; eleventh, don't set yourself up to be a sharper of any kind; twelfth, subdue curiosity; thirteenth, avoid drugs. Whooping Cough.?Medical opinion seems to be generally unanimous as regards tho efficacy of the carbolic acid treatment in whooping cough. Dr. R. J. Banning hap been in the habit of tiainpr it for some timer with very good results. A few drop5; evaporated upon a hot .shovel in the bedroom upon going to bed will generally prevent any severe attack during the night. He has aho found the administration in the ordinary doses of croton chloral extremely beneficial. Mr. J. R. Clouting, M. R. C. S. E-, considers carbolic inhalations the most successful mode of dealing with the disease which he has employed during the ten years he has been in practice, How to Manage a Cough.?A distinguished English physician, in a work on coughs and colds, says if we would know jnst how to manage a cough we must learn how not to cough. The inclination to cough should at any rate be suppressed until the secretion, the existence of which sets up the cough, is within your reach ; a full inspiration should now be taken and the accumulated phlegm is then removed at a siDgle effort; thus the mucous surfaces are not causelessly irritated, and a severe bronchial attack passes easily through its stages, whereas, if the membrano is irritated by violent and useless fits of coughing, it gets sore and relaxed. Again, by inhaling steam, or sucking an ipecacuanha Jozenge on nrst awaKing, the dried secretion may be loosened or easily expelled, aDd the usual fit of morning congli partly prevented. Hygienic Conditions or Coal Mints. ?Somo interesting information as to the way in which the human system is affected nnder the peculiar conditions of work in mines has been furnished by M. Fabre, from experiences connected with the coal mines of France. Tie finds that the deprivation of solar light causes a diminution in the pigment of the skin and absence of sunburning, but there is no globular anromia? that is, diminution in the number of globules are in the blood. Internal remedies seem to be more rare. While there is no essential anaemia in the miners, the blood globules are often found smaller and paler than in normal conditions of life, this being due to respiration of noxious gases, especially whero ventilation is difficult. The men who breathe too much the gases liberated on exrtlnaiAn r\t v\r\rrr /Iflv r\v ^Trnomiffl piuwu ui [j\j *> ufi \jl kj j-iui-uai/u uuu\.& more than other miners from affections of the larvnx, the bronchia and the stomach. Ventilation sometimes works injury by its cooling effect. A Novel Torpedo Boat. A successful trial of Captain Ericseon's torpedo boat Destroyer took place at the Brooklyn navy yard racently. The strong lido off the ordnance dock compelled a change of plan, and the target, a square frame covered with wiro netting, was successfully placed in the cove. The Destroyer was made fast to the old Constitution. The target was submerged 300 yards away. Everything being in readiness, Mr. Larroo, the representative of tho builders of the Destroyer, notified Captain Selfringe and Commanders Phythian and Crowninshield, the board appointed to examine the tests. At 3 o'clock tho 'signal was given and the gun was fired. There was but a slight report, and all that could be noticed from the outside was a I ? v. i Hi'n /\P fli/i f/lVO TITI/Int* biiuxu^ uiniu; k'Huv/o vt uuo navo&u uuviv* the bow of the vessel. Almost instantly the portion of the target which was above the water was seen to vibrate, and a second later the projectile, a wooden log fifteen feet long, leaned from the water some three hnndred yards beyond the target, with a motion oxactly similar to that of a porpoise playing under the bow of a ship at sea. From this point it ricochetted along the surface of the water for some two hundred yards further before it lost its momentum. The target having been raised it was found that the netting had been pierced almoct exactly in the center and nbout five feet under water. The officer*? pronounced this trial eminently successful and ordered another for this moroing at 9 o'clock. T1 e Destrover is an iron boat with hull almost entirely submerged. Upon this hull, placed well aft, is a deck-house of sheet iron. The hull is 130 feet long, twelve feet wide i ar.d eleven feet deep. She is a double! ender and is propelled by an engine of | 1,000 horso-power. The steering ap: nuratns and the tornedo cun?in fact. all of her effective appointments?are qelow the water level. The armament consists of a single gun placed just above the keelson in tho forward part of tho boat, its muzzle opening directly into the water, which is excluded from it by a permanent valve hung by an elbow joint to the stem and opened or closed by a piston operated at the breech of the gun. When the gun ie to bo fired the valve is raised out of the path of the projectile and its place is taken by a temporary valve of wood aud rubber cloth, which tits the muzzle tightly and is placed in tho gun after it is loaded. This is shattered whec the gun is fired. As the projectile leavos the muzzlo the permanent valve agaiil comes in position, the little watei that rashes in ruus through the breed i* _ 1 t 1 | to rue ongc ami is pumuuu. uut uv e steam siphon. The torpedo which it ie proposed to rise in actual warfare is ? ohamber of iron or copper, large enough to contain J310 pounds of dyna^ mite, and it is claimcd tbatagaihst thif little vessel the most powerful ironclnds will be helpless, as the submerged gun will penetrate them beneath theii armor, and her great speed and facility of maneuvering would enable her tc get in her work among a fleet of big ships almost at will and with entir? safety. An Arab Cook. While exploring the country east ol the Jordan the Rev. Selah Merrill hat! an amusing experience with a native cook. The mau was one of those cookf who judge that a condiment which is good for one dish is equally good foi all dishen. The exploring pari} found that over] dish tasted qf allspice. He was told tc uso pepper instead; he said he did ust it. Tile pepper-nox was oruereu iu ui cleaned out and somo fresli peppei pounded and put in it. It was done Still each dish tasted of allspice. Mr Merrill then examined tho can of un ground popper and found it to be allspice An explanation disclosed that the na live gentleman who had purchased tin (itores had substituted allspice fo pepper. Ho had acted in accordance with Aral taste, for a native uses allspico where i European or American would usi pepper. The cook liked tho tomato, and ir his professional opinion tho party conk not have too much of that vegetable Every dish was flavored with tomato The mutton was cooked with tomatoes -? ? ? ? j V11U UUl'Ub J>U UUU \>a^ Jiavuitu vmn im,ui Lhey were stewed into tho rice, mixe< with the batter in which the cutlet 1 were fried, chopped into the hash, pn ' j into the soup and poured over th | mashed potatoes. Remonstrance was in vain. One die' might appear without the favorite tc ' t main, but at tho next meal tho ol friend reappeared. Lie came to staj 1 and stay he did as long as any dish wa " served in which he could bo introduced Separate collars and cuffs of velv< embroidered with gold are very fasl i i unable. Those r,ets urn not very es f pensive, and form a pretty finish to plain toilet. FOR THE LADIES. Tnrktnh Women. The Turkish woman is marriageable i at the age of nine years, and by the j Turkish law at that age, if married s'i? ! is competent to manage her property | and dispose of one-third of her fortune, i The law allows her to abandon her hus! band's house for just cause, and will ! prptect her in so doing. She cannot be ; compelled to labor for the support of i her husband. On the contrary, he is I compelled to support ber; and it is a I penal offense to icsult or ill-treat her. j Should he not furnish her with funds she is authorized to borrow in his name and even sell his property. After marriage she Las the absolute control of her own property, which he cinnot i touch. I ? I . .In TCuti'rprUlnir.Motlier. Ladies looking for sons-in law rarely j | make Iheir approach s ho openly as the j j Canadian flame who wrote to a newly < ; fettled eli^iblo: "D;iar Mr. B?: I, j Mrs. Wigton, wish you would call on my j daughter Amelia; she is very amusing ( ! and ft regular young flirt. She can sing j ! liko a humming-bird, and her papa can play on the fiddle nicely, and we might have a rare old ho-down, and then we will have an oyster supper. Amelia is ? I highly educated; eho can dance like a 1 l grasshopper looking for grubs, and can 1 i make beautiful bread; it just tastes like 1 ! hunny bees' bread; and for pumpkin j pies she cau't be beat. In fact she is c i head of all the P? girls, and will mako i a gooc who lor any man. lours trujy, \ Mrs. Wigton. Bring your brother." I t Fanhion Nolo*. Black pearls ar worn in mourning. i Pointed trains supersede square ones. ^ Bangs must not extend across the j temples. Breast feathers rival ostrich _tips for small bonnets. t Feather fans have butterflies and j bees upon them. 1 Serpent bracelets in silver and silver ? gilt are very fashionable. 1 Shoes to be fashionable mupt taper to ( a rounded point at the toes. Small screw earrings remain the 8 favorites for very young ladies. r Necklaces, when worn at all, mnst t be high and close around the throat. Bangle bracelets large enough to i slip over the hand are no longer in t vogue. Dolly Varden lives again in a new ? polonaise, a novel neckerchief, and a t daintJy shaped dancing-shoe. g Feathers are again worn in the hair ? with evening dress?matrons wearing ? them to the exclusion of floral garni- ^ ture. i White ostrich feather trimming is ( seen upon a very few superb and costly Parisian toilets of white satin and velvet c brocade. i Wall papers are now brought out in ! 1 imitation of tapestries, including even s the eld Gobelins, which- are admirably t imitated. c Large, very large bonnets are the ^ most fashionable, but small and medium sizes and cottage and turban shapes continue in vogue. The jaunty Hungarian costumes are i exceedingly pretty for children, made . of Craigievar tweed trimmed with dark bottle-green plush. The luxurious silver-pointed, tiger ] and mottled plush trimmiDgs for winter , wraps rival those of the most costly fur ; in popularity. j Black velvet ribbon is revived for j making bows for looping dresses, for ornamenting cloaks, and for putting on , the corsages of light dresses to give them character. ( Women Wanted. Wyoming's want is women. 'We want ..women here, partially to oven up the j population and partially to many. Our i Territory is suffering more now for 1 choice styles of young and middle-aged women than for anything else. We need thnm in all departments of industry where women may be employed, and also in our homes and by our tiresides. There are hundreds of lonely men in Wyoming who are doing well financially and who would willingly rush into matrimony if there were matrimony enough to go around. It is the i saddest feature of our wide Western country at present. The over-populated i East, where a young man may pay for ice cream or oysters for three girls at a ; time, ought to contribute some of its wealth of girls to this desolate land, where there is only one woman to five or six men, and where lifo is a hollow mockery. Wo sometimes wish that nature had designed us for a hired gill instead of i an editor so that we could have been , independent. In this country "a hired girl" is only another name for affluence and fiunncial stability. Twenty-five dollars per month and board makes the poor cringing editor i green with envy. And yet there are ; not enough girls in this country to do i half the work. A man lives out half his i days and at last secures a wife, oqjy to . find that the latter part of his career will be devoted to securing a servant girl for her. It's tougb. i Life :s too brief to be trifled away in i this manner. One friend of ours who i has been reared in luxury has been t without a girl for two months, and alI Mn-mrrVi lio Jinn nflprprl Jill kinds of ill i dncements, be has been compelled to make the beds and do the chamber i work; while his wife did the washing i j and cook the,meals. > | Let tift man who never tried it, rise : at 0 o'clock, dress live children in the i subdued light of early morning, then i cook his breakfast, eat it and go down i town for a couple of months, and he will l allow the girl that will work for him > the use of his upright piano and take . her with him to the theater. Why, it j' has arrived at snch a stage hero in Lara j .: mie that when a man asks one of his [ i neighbors if he knows of a servant girl < | that ho can get, the mob turns loose at | r1 him and laughs at him till he wishes he j > | was dead. r | It is not an uncommon cco irrence | i i for a girl to come West, work nt regular j i wages two or three years, and then, as j j an heiress, marry a bloated capitalist j I and settle down. | It is a horrible fact that unless some- j | thing is done to preveut the centraliza- i ^ ! tion of capital among the servant girls ! * of Wyoming, a revolution cannot be j 5 ! avoided. J i There is not a mnn within the sound j r | of our voice that will not admit with j i tears in his eyes and both suspender ! 11 buttons trembling and to tering to their | 1 1 very foundation, that such is the case 3 J ?Boomerang, r, The Price of Titles. Americans desiring aristocratic titles . i may be pleased to learn where they are - j for sale, and at what prices. The tig. ures are given by Chambers' Journal, - and there is an agent in London who 3 conducts tho business. A choice of j r three Spanish orders, conferring the title ol count, is offered for 810,000, j ; the only qualification necessary on the \ | part of tho purchaser being "an emi3 j nent standing in his own coiintry," It j I mav be presumed that the inquiry on \ i hat point is not severe. The sultan of I 1 Turkey will mr.ke you a chyalier for1 . 8125. You may become an earl, of the i i. j sort created by the little r< public of1 i, San Marino, by paying $3,750, or a , i baron for ?884. Secular dignities by i ! the pope are represented In the Jours j not to be in the. market. To become a t i count from this source costs $5,000. It o is also said that in Russia, Portugal ; and the German states, though the gov-, h ernments do not barter away titles di- j i- rectly, the roundabout payment of fees ; d to oflicials will produce .satisfactory re- \ c"Uc ' I I IB ? It lias been asserted by 31. Hement j that deaf mutes who have been taught. | jt to speak articulate with the accent ut j. their country, thus indicatiug organic conformations of this mechanism of a, speech similar to those oi their parents, j This is doubted by M. Bianchsrd. ' ( ' * iHE FARM A5D HOUSEHOLD. Farm and harden Xotea. A weak solution of ammonia will irive worms from flower pots. Apply 3nce a week. Young cows do not give as rinh milk is do those of matnre age. A lean cow jives poor milk and a fat one rich milk. A small amonnt of leached wood ashes jiven to swine will have a great effect, 3oth upon the health and the fattening. Keep sheep dry under foot. This is ;ven more necessary than rooflug them, tfever let sheep stand or lie in mud or R-ater. Wintering bees in cellars appears to De an improvement over wintering them jutside. The bees consume less honey, lave less loss and are healthier in the ;nd. A farmer of experience in wool grow ng saj s that there is more money in growing wool at even twenty crnts per xrand than in loaning money at ten per sent, interest. If the owner of a cow will realize the act that unless she pays him in clear :a-5h 844 50 yearly she is kept at a loss, le will soon become interested in the iubject of the improvement of cows. Cabbage is the best and c!:oapeat ?reen food which can be fed to poultry n winter. It is not necessary to fe?d .ho best heads, but the loose, soft specinens that are not exactly markttable. Frequent cultivation of corn, as made md reported by the Illinois Industrial miversity, gave an increased yield of xpward of eighty per cent over those jlots which only received ordinary cul;ivation during the same sea ten. it n ine opinion 01 many inao a iowi fattened quickly will make a Tar more juicy and toothsome meal than a chick. !)ne thing is certain, a three-j ear-old owl will make much better brolh for in invalid than a six months' chicken. There are few cows so constituted hat their milk cannot be largely improved, both in quantity and quality, 3y careful attention to the wants of the raimal. Good feed and a warm barn trill go far toward accomplishing this lesirable result. According to Dr. Von Liebenburg all lir-dry soils, at the same temperature, adiate beat equally. He insists strongly >n the injurious effect of any agency hat- lowers the temperatute of the ground in spring, as that will certainly nfluenco the quantity and quality of he crop. Corn and oats ground up together ifford an excellent feed for horses, if ,he mixturo be fed with hay or wheat itraw, the latter furnishing the requilite bulk. Ten pounds of this mixed jrain with twenty pounds of cut straw vill make three fair rations or one day's nofl fnr nn AvprncrA linrHA Jiftvinc mnrl. VVV4 ?* ",v""Ow ?w O :rate exercise. Fine batter can only be obtained by shaming at a favorable temperature, f the temperature of the cream is too ow, the butter will be long in coming ind will be hard in texture. If the emperature is too high, the butter will ome very speedily, but the product vill be' greasy, destitute of grain'and leficient in quantity. The farmer who would be successful iiust keep a sharp eye upon such of his and as is down to grass. If it yields aim a good crop of hay or furnishes aim a rich pasture for his animals he nay be quite sure he is on the road to mccess. On the other hand, if the neadow is light, and the pasture furaishes only a scanty picking, ibere is Little hope that the year will be a profitable one. Look well to the grass Land. Milking qualities in swine are as 3urely transmissible to progeny as in cattle. Thus it is true of swite as of cattle, that this trait may be greatly improved by retaining only good milkers for breeders, as well as by feeding them when young with a view to their development as milk-producers, rather than as fat producers. For this reason spring j and earlv summer litters are usually the best from which to select young brood sows. ?Indiana Fanner. F. W. Morrow said at the Elmira Farmers' club: I know a farmer who plows all his clay land in fall that he wants to sow with oats or barley in the following spring. His principal crop is oats, and he gets larger fields than his neighbors who have land of similar character that they plow in spring. He gets the seed in earlier aud in better condition. His fall-plowed lonl is dragged thoroughly as soon as dry enough in spring, and the seed dragged in before his neighbors can plow. ItecipcM. Cabbage.?Shred fine a quart of cabbage ; put in thespider, sprinkle over it ~ */?KlAor.AAw#nl o lif.i 1 a nianrxsj* t* tuuxcopuv/uxut uvut, <? aaviav/ and salt; add a good spoonful batter pnd a half capful of water; cover closely and cook till tender. Ju>t before mealtime add one-third cup vinegar. Let it jnst boil up and serve. Scrambled Eggs.?Pour a pint of milk into your spider, and crnmb i? i the soft part of a slice of bread ; beat | slightly five eggs, add- a teaspoon fnl salt, aud pour into your mixture when at the boiling point; stir constantly till it thickens; add a very little pepper; a little butter is also an improvement. A nice breakfast dish. Flaky Pie Crust. ?Wet half a pound of fine flour, dried before the fire and sifted,with as muoh water as will make 1 ij into a hard, stiff paste. Roll it one way. Divide six ounces of butter into little bits, and put ii; on the paste with a kuife at three different times, stirring just a little dry flour over it, and be careful always to roll one way?the same way. Four ounces of lird may be used with two ounces of butt?r. If your butter is not salt, add a nine piucu iu | the dry flour. Apple Cbeam.?Peel and core one pound of apples, place them in a stewpan with eight ounces of sn-w and a pinch of ground nutmeg. Let cook until tender; pass tbe apples through a sieve and let get cold. Wbisk up rather stiff half a pint of cream, add the apple pulp, a little essence of lemon, one ounce of isinglass boiled in a gill of water, mix well together; pour into a jelly mold and let set. When re quired, dip the mold into warm water for hair a minute, wipe it wi h a cloth, and turn it out- on a glass or b'Ivi r dish. Garnish with red flowers and slices of lemon. WniTE Sr.up?Veal or chickt-u must b? used for this soup, and the stock must always bo prepare.i the day beforehand, having been flavored with j two chopped onions and a cup or cut celery, ov celery seed, and other seasoning in proportions to suit the ta'te. On the day it is to be used heat a ynart of milk; stir one tablespoonfnl of Imtter to a cream; add a heaping tablespoon-! fill of flour or corn starcli, a s:l'spoonful of mace, and the sime ami unt of white pepper; stir into the boiling milk and add to the soup; let all boil a moment aud then pour into the tureen. Three eggs beaten very light aud stirred into hot milk without boiling make a still richer soup. The bones of cold roast chicken or turkey may be used in 'his way. and the broth of any meat,. if perfectly clear, can serve as foundation, though veal or chickcn is most delicate. How Pititi's i ro?s ihe Hirer* Rat urn, in an article in regard to the swimming of savage people, says: "The Indians on tbo Missouri river, when they havo occasion to traverse that impetuous stream, invariably tread water just as the dog treads i?." Our riutes practice this method >A swimmiog. Wo have frequently seen iliem cross the Carson river in liiw way in the early days. Squaws, youngsters and all marched directly across the stream. However, before starting in the squaws and children took in each hand a tstick?a piece of dead willow or cottonwood?from four to six in length. Holding these sticks upon the water they would move their hands forward alternately, at the fame time treading water with their f< of. In this i way the water only oe:\v;i?Mi illy fame j above their sho'ildois.? I j Enferpr'sc. A Statterlnsr Suitor. A certainfair widow, whoso weeds, it m thought, Were fast growing irkeorae, in] marriage wm eought, And though to tho suit she was not disinclined Yet thinking a man even more to her mind ^ Perhaps might appear should she prudently tarry, She feigned that sho wasn't quite ready to marry. Tho lover, who worshiped her hlindly and madly, (And be it known here ho otuttercd quite bad? iy?> Perceived tho advantage already possessed, And begged her at parting to grant & request, Said he: " When to marry you do de-dccide, Gi-givo me no-uotice." " ut course," sue replied, Ho little suspected bow shortly would poriah The hope she liad given him reason to cherish, For all about town not loDg after 'twas said, _ A man with a fortune the widow had wed. Astonished and grieved at the tidings he heard- . 2 Ho went to reproach her for breaking her word. " Indeed," aho retortod, pretending surprise, " My word I'vo not broken, but <yiite other wise; You begged me when ready to wed, did yoa ' / To givo you no notice, and that's what yoo. , 29 got." iltJ.HOR OF THE DAY. A capital story?The life of a millionaire. How a man decides where he will i build his houso?By lot. "With some women the desire for ihe latest new dook is merely a novel sen- ,:j sation. The swell youth now bangs his hair. '% That is becaueo bis father did not suffi- '< Ciently bang hia heir.?Philadelphia jj! Nexcs. "Money is active," Fogg read in his ;'i newspaper. "That's so," he said; If " it's active enough to keep out of my . ^ reach."?Bmton Transcript. An Oil City young man who is keeping company with one oj the schoolma'am's, calls her Experience, because "experience is a dea;1 teacher."? Oil' ' JjB City Derrick. They are finding ox horns at a depth of twenty-five feet below the surface in . Kansas, and wouldn't be a bit surprised to discover horse shoes in the tops.o; -|H the trees.?Free Press. What a large Dog. He going m swiftly up the street. So is a Tin Can. Will the Dog win the race ? I should smile. It is wrong to tie a Can on a . Dog's tail if tho Owner of the Dog ^ catches you.- Denver Tribune. " jauBDdua ana wue, sayu noma trngo >5 person, "should no more struggle to get the las w >rd than they should struggle .2 for the possession of a lighted bomb." They don't The wife gets it without _ ,3 a struggle.?The Judge. " Jiminy gracious I did you see how ?"* those two men looked at each other "| when they passed? I thought they were about to fight. I wonder who m they are?" "Oh, that's nothing. I ?1 know 'em both They're only neigh- | bora." ?.i ^*-33 The Culture of FrojfS. The "frog who would a wooing go" ^ is now a native of the great republic, and his matrimonial leap is taken across the broad waters which separate America from Europe Ho descends from this stupendous saltatory exercise, not upon the unsympathetic shores of Britain. S where his race is looked upon with dis- -k dain and even aversion, but upon the 3 hospitable and friendly shores of the v* new republic in France, where his kin .V3 have been appreciated warmly by gour- -v$ mands of every .class. The Figaro re- ( ports with much gusto the arrival of tho ? '& distinguished'strangers, who are to be . % introduced with duo honor into the breeding establishments'which supply ' the mprkets of the gay capital. The :|j Yankee frog is quite worthy of the country in which his first mortal croak i is made. He is twice as big as the well- % known inhabitant of the marshes of the Seine, whose delicate limbs are so eagerly bought hy French epicures, ': * and so daintily served to table by the ^ cordons bleus of the Cafe Anglais and tbe Trois Freres. The pr.;cious consign- | ment has been received by the frog ?" breeders with unbounded joy; and it is anticipated that a skillful treatment of J the new raco will infuse fresh virtuea <9 into the stock of the frog ponds, so that in time, by a careful system of propagation, the legs of the croakers supplied to the French restaurants will rival in size the legs of chick- 'JH ens, which they are said to resemble in jfew flavor, and it will no longer be neces- , saty for the ^iver of a feast to sacrifice a holocaust of the expensive victims. It " ?' swrns. however, thnt the new-comers > are all of the ruder ecx. The Yackeo t has come a-wooiug, and " whether h?. ; mother would let liim go or no" is still" vl j a doubtful point. But, at any rate, neither his mother nor his sis'er have accompanied him to Europe. He will ^ bo wedded to the wife or wives provided for him in tlie French grctwuiUercs, and "t we (sincerely hope that ho will -' live happily over afterward," and be the father of an increasing and interesting family of Franco-American croakers.? London Globe. ?? A Literary Curiosity. ^ C. Wells Moulton has prepared for tho Wyoming Literary Monthly a very *j curious piece of literary patchwork " made up of linos from thirty of tho leading English poets. Each line is a * * 4 ' ? " ~a nntViAw a a quotation xroiu suuio cmjjic uu<,uvx, <**> >, will be seen by reference to tho note i below: 1 Woman I blest partner of our joys and woca! - . 2 Blessing and blest where'er she goes. :i Eager to hope, but no less firm to bear; ; ; 4 Oh born to soothe distress and lighten caro. 5 Profound as reason, and as justice dear; G Yet suffering vice compels her tear" 7 Meekly to bear with wrong and cheer decay, -?< 8 And wipe the mournor's bittor tear awav. 9 Oh, woman ! woman ! thou art form'a to ^ bless! :?s? 10 For woman is all truth and stoadt'astne 11 Holy, divine, good, amiable or sweet. 12 Each softest, truest virtue there sliduld meet. 13 Women were made to give onr oyo-j delight. It So fond and true, so beautiful and bright. 15 Ye watchful sprite that made e'en man your 4 caro, ^ ^ 1U 10U arc not irco ufcausu >uu 10 uiuiu iu?iu i? lair. . 17 Oh, man! bow sublime, from heaven bis birth, 18 And you of man was made, man but of J*3 earth. 19 Gay smiles to comfort; April alwwoi^ to ]4 move; 20 The in'portant business of your life is love"; 21 Hero woman reigns ; the mother, daughter, wife, 22 The loved and cherished idol of my lifo. | 23 There is something in their hearts which passes speech, " \ . 24 There is a charm no vulgar mind can reach; I 2J A rosebud set with a little willful thorn, 20 Still shall your charms my fondest themes adorn; 27 Sacred by birth and built by hands divine, I i'lire aim unapoucu in ui uuiiiiiu , 21) Her worth, her warmth of health let friendship say, 30 All my fortunes at .hy foot I'll lay. 1, Sand ; 2, Cooper; 3, Byron ; 4, Mrs. Barbauld ; 5, Savage ; 0, Crabb'e ; 7, Mrs. llemans; I 8, J. Grahnme; 9, J. Bir?l; 10, Chaucer; 11, j Milton ; 12 Johnson; 13, Young; 14, Patter- I son : 15, T. Brown : 1G, Etherege ; 17, Bulwor; 18, Ilandolph : 19," TarnoU ; 20, Lvttleton ; 21, ? Montgomery ; 22, Prentice; 23, Story; 24, W. Allison; 25, Tennyson: 2G, Hill house; 27, Drydeu ; 28, Davenant; 29, Scott; 30, Shakespeare. It would appear from the British shipbuilding statistics of last year that meat of the vessels built for British owners or for foreigners are steam propelled. ? Whether in a few years some other ?trill l?o nspil remains i'ycilt m ... .... to be seen. The secondary lottery is beginning to excitc hopes of an early revolution in navigation. In the United Kingdom there Wf-ro 130,000 tons of vessels constructed for home, besides _ 68,000 for foreign orders. ! Here is a list of the s-izia of hats worn | l\7 some famous men: Lord Chelmsi ford, C 1-2 fall; Dean Stanley, 63-4; ! Lord Beaconsti'eld, 7; the Prince j of Wales, 7 full; Charles Dickens, ! 6 1-8 ; Lord Selborne, 7 1-8 ; John i Bright, 7 1-8: Eirl Russell, 7 14: Lord | Macanlay, 7 .'1 8; Mr. Gladstone, 7 3 8; -<10 Louis Phiilippe. 7 3 4; the a. viibiibob j of lvt, 6 lui'.. 'MM