The Abbeville press and banner. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, July 05, 1882, Image 1

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V -V ABBEVILLE PRESS AND BANNER. i ? ?? .. . ? "' " ' ' j BY HUGH WILSON AND H. T. WARDLAW. ABBEVILLE, S. C.. WEDNESDAY, JULY 5, 1882. NO. 5. VOLUME XXVII. The Dead Stowaway. "Washed up on the beach by tho waves the body of a stowaway, looking horribly t tal in its rags, and sought and cared for by one.llvport of a Sttainship Wreck. i. He lay on the beach, just out of tho reach Of waves that had cast him by; With finsers vrim they reached for him As often as tliev came nigh. The shore-face brown had a surly frown, And glanced at the dancing sea, As if to say "Take back the clay You tosoe l this morning at me." Great fragments rude, bv tho sliipwri strewed, Had found by this wreck a place; He bad grasped them tight, and hope-strc fright S&t still on the bloated face. Battered and bruised, forever abused, He lay by the heartless sea, As u Heaven's aid had never beon mado For a villain such a3 he. n. The fetter's mark lay heavy and dark Around the pulseless wrists; The hardened scar of many a war Clung yet to the drooping fists. The will's dl-grace across that face Had built an iron track; The half-healed gash of the jailman's lash Helped cover the brawny back. The blood that flowed in a crimson road Pmni a rlAf?r? \rnnnrl in liia lionrl Had felt fierce pangs irorn the poison-fangs Of th ?ee who his young life fe I: Cursed from the very beginning With deo la that others had done, "More sinned against than sinning"? And so is m my a one I III. He had neverjejraod save what had turned The steps of his life amise; He never knew a hand-grasp true, Or the thrill of a Yirtqous kiss. ' Twas poured like a flood u rough his yod blood, And poisoned every vein, That wrong is right, that law is spite, And theft but honest gain. TKa ua/l.1 wui-fl ncAtpn fVinf lr^nrr honn am By tho heart ol a murderous sire; Disease and eh mo, and blood aflame With thirst for the fountains of fire. Battered and bruised, forever abused, He lay by the moaning sea, As if Heaven's aid were even afraid Of a villain such as he. IV As ho lay alone, like a sparrow prone, An angel wandered nigh: A look she cut over that dark past, And tears came to her eye. 8ho bent Uy the dead, and tenderly said: "Poor child, you went astray; Your heart and mind were both born blind? No wonder they Io?t their way ! Angels, I know, bad fallen as low With such a di-mal chance. Your heart was ironed, your eoul environed, You were barred of all advance! Cursed from the very beginning With deeds that others have done, 'More sinned against than sinning'? And to is many a one I' ? Will Carlrton, in Harper's Weekly. AN OLD MAID'S LOVI I hail fallen into a doze as the stag couch t.]owly progressed along a smooi and sandy curia try road. Being tl only passenger so far, I ha 1 rejoiced tho luxnry of undisputed poasessio and was not overpleased when beit aroused by the stopping of the vehicl I ascertained that wo were to take i two other pasEengers. One of these was a burly, florii good-humored-looking man, and, as soon learned from himself, was a wel to do grazier of the name of 'Jatlin. T1 other was of my own sex?a little, mic die-aged lady, brisk and bright, wl appeared accompanied by a Bilh poodle and a mocking-bird in a cagebesides the usual basket, umbrella pe {jarcels. She entered the coach emilinj y. apologizing for disturbing me, as removed my own parcels from the oppi site seat, then proceeded to arrange h< effects with the air of one who had ju taken possession of lodgings and w putting them in order. The grazie though evidently as much a stranger I her as to me, kindly assisted by poin ing out how the umbrella and parce might be more conveniently dispose of, while I won her heart by noticir the little dog and suggesting that tt bird-cage might besaspended from tt ceiling of the coach. When tfcese arrangements wei effected the little lady settled herself i a corner, looked smilingly about he and seemed inclined to be sociabl Thus falling in with the grazier humor the two speedUy became chatl and communicative, and it was not vei long before I had learned the who of Miss Allison's history. Indeed did not take many moments to relat being a remarkably ordinaiy and u; 1?J 1 u eveniiui one. one uau uwu uutu ul always lived on the "little farm" whi< was now her Own, having been left her by her parents. She was not ric she said, modestly, but had more tbi was sufficient for her own wants, ar she meant to leave it all to her nie Alethia, who was considered the pr< tiest girl in the county of Gates, ai had taken the highest prizes for dra' rag and French at the Mount Prospe academy. She was a farmer's daught< it was true, but she had veTy dain and delicate ways and bad never be< forced to do coarse work. Like hers< Alethia was an only child, and h father, Miss Allison's brother, w "very well off," and with what si would get from him and from here< Alethia would be rich, and a match i any young man in the county. Ai Miss Allison tossed her head and look brightly around, apparently very proi of her ni ce, Alethia. " The young lady's got a fine nai in addition to her other attraction) remarked the grazier, good-humored] "You think soV replied she, loc inpr pleased. " They wanted to c; her after me ; and I should have lik it if I had had a pretty name. ? Priscilla isn't a pretty name," she add( with a light langh; "and, to make worse, they call me Priesy. It used worry me when I was young, for I lik pretty names as well as other prel things, so i resolved that my nic should be more fortanate than mys in that respect. Well, when she wai week old, I looked 07er all the book could find about the house, and at li came across Alethia, which seemed ji the right thing.' And I think it sn her, only she prefers to have it Aletl That's French, you know." " I take it, you know French, ma'an suggested Mr. Catlin, in a complimc tary manner. "Oh, no; I had no advantages of < ucation, which I've often lament over, and that was why I insisted up Alethia being sent to Mount Prospi academv, and offered to pay for it n self if her lathe* wouldn't. I thinl should have made a good echolar," ? added, with a half-sigh, "for I had natural liking for books and pictur I used to write poetry, too, when I x a girl/'.'Shouldn't wonder, ma'am. A bein' so smart, you nat'rally look down upon the men, and wouldn't 1 mean yourself to have one of 'em a lord and master," said the grazi With a good-natured chuckle. | The little old maid laughed, too. -' ' 'It wasn't because I had an over op ion of myself, buc, somehow, the ir I knew never suited me." "Mebbe .the right one hasn't co yet," he suggested, in a consolatc H manner. "No, nor I don't expect him to co Hat this time of fey. He's staid av Htoo long if he meant to come at i After thirty-five a woman's got no bi Hness to be thinking Of getting marr H?and I'm past thirty-five," she add Hwith a little defiant "don't care" air. ? "Possible? Well, now I shoulc Htake you for nigh that; and I've alw maintained that no woman can live thirty without some time bein' in 1c if she don't meet the right one, w she'll fall in love with the wrong c Hand tint's the way unfort'nate mate Boms about," "Well, sir, I'm prst thirty-five, as v lay I've said, and very certain am I that e ,ru- I've never been in love, and never shall 'no , be." a She said this very positively, while f | smiling and blushing a little. But at | that moment a shaip exclamation from e j uie anver, ana a suauen stop 01 tne t f>t ge coach, caused us to look from the j ! windows. " j " What is the matter ?" v Wo had no need to ask, for there fi I right before our eyes, in the hot and ti dusty road, lay the figure of a man, ap- I cck I parontiy deud, with a small bundle and li ! stick beside bim. h | Wo were all out in a moment, and o wn | tbe driver, assisted by Mr. Catlin, lifted I the inanimate form and bore it to the a shade of the pine trees by the roadside, h Ho was quite unconscious, though not a ' rlpn.fl. n.s hftd at first tnoneht: and ! h 1 while I ran for water from a neighbor-11: I ing brook, Miss Allison produced abot- I s' i tie of smelling-salts and tho driver a j o j flask of spirits. Mr. OatliD, meanwhile, \ tl J stroped down and car:fully examined j tl | him. t< " He's not hurt anywhere," he said, al gravely, "but he's ill, very ill, poor ]{ fellow!" Ii "What ails him ?" we inquired, nnx{ioijsly. { The grazier looked up and solemnly a uttered one word : TO j "Starvation!" _( An exclamation of horror and com- j( passion broke from Miss Allison. She ^ hurried to the coach and returned with j J a little basket of luncheon. Her hands j al | trembled and her eyes were blinded ^ | with tears as she stooped down and j V( placed a few crumbs of bread moistened with currant wine between the whjte e, lips- 2 The sight was enough to draw tears . g from any one. let alone the warm-1 ?e hearted little old maid. There he lay, j Cl n I a young man of not more than three or gI four-and-twenty, with regular, clear-cut features, clustering brown hair thrown back in a damp and tangled mass from his white forehead, and clothes wbioh, though shabby, worn and travel-soiled, xa bespoke him not of the common or ^ laboring class. And he was starved? j worn out and nearly dying for want of I ft( food and from the heat and fatigue of j R1 traveling on foot through the burning summer noontide. I As we gazed his eyes slowly opened j w ?beant^ful eyes they were?large and ; p] dark and pathetic in their wistful half consciousness. The sight drew a fresh w burst of tears from Miss Priscilla's eyes, m which were assuming an unbecoming ar redness. ca " What are we to do^ with] him ?" I w inquired, anxiouslj. if " I'll carry him on to Atlees," re- W( plied the driver. " We can't leave him h? alone on the road to die. But I don't i0 know as anybody there'll take him in. He's only a tramp, though a genteeli l? 1UOB1U OlitJ. "I will take him in," spoke up Miss Priscilla, "promptly. " We're only six yC miles from my house, and there he he shall stay until he's able to take care of himself. If his mother oould see him p nowI" sho added, in a faltering aside th to me; " and if she's dead, I'll take her th place and be a mother to him as well as j de I cud, poor young man I" I re !i? In the coach she continued to tend Gi | him most carefully, every now and then | he e. insisting upon him taking a few crumbs 1 ex of roll and a sip of her currant wine, j on le He was conscious now, but too weak even to 6peak, and we all forbore to j eh Qt force him to that exertion. I ,g In little over half an hour we stopped J A1 e at a white pate opening on the road, Bt and leading by a short cariiage-way to j ab 1 a pleasant, comfortable-looking farm- J to j bouse, with a broad piazza in front cov-1 j ered with vines. Here we all alighted, W( l_ and while Miss Allison hastened for- wi l6 ward to prepare things the men assisted 1_ onr invalid to the house, I taking fu 10 charge of the old maid's umbrella, a? :y which in her haste she had overlooked | Bt( _ and left in the coaoh. I fr< 1(j They laid the new guest on a snow- ! 0u white bed in the coolest and neatest of j j chambers, and a motherly old colored ea y. woman went to prepare chicken-broth. Wi 3r I observed Mr. Gatlin speak to Miss co st Allison aside, and saw him take out a 8 plethoric pooketbook, but she perr emptorily put it away. Then he care- sti folly pinned a bill in the young man's breast-poeket, and he and the driver fcj [s departed, promising to send the doctor th d from Altees. lo lg I remained at the urgent request of ga ie Mibs Allison. She had learned that I f0 was coin? to a ouiet little farmhouse th only a few miles distant, where I prore posed to spend the hot sammer months, [n and she would not let me continue my ., r journey through the blazing noontide e[ sun. Ic the evening, when it became 's cool, she drove me over in her old- * ty fashioned gig, by a shaded woodland ? fy road leading directly from her house to le the farm, and she expressed the hope P. it that I would come often to see her , e> while I remained in the neighborhood. . aI I was glad to avail myself of this j l(j invitation. I had from the first liked , the bright, lively, kind hearted little t0 lady, and I liked her the better the 1^ more I knew of her. ? ^ My first visit to her was made osten- ? 1(j sibly to inquire after her patient. He ce had been very ill, she told me, with a touch of brain fever, and she was still ^ id anxious about him. Her whole heart w. seemed Btirred with compassionate tenderness as she related to me what she ;r had gathered concerning him. He was ty a poor artist who had failed in his busiun ness, and, without home, friends 01 ^ 31{ means, was making his way on foot to er the north, in the hope of finding some , as kind of an opening there." What little be money he had possessed was exhausted, >j? and, having been refused food or a or night's lodging by one and another on i a(j the way who never took in "tramps," he ed finally succumbed to hunger and fatigue, 01 3(j and would probably have died, Miss * Priscilla said, with a choking sob, if we s< ne had not fortunately found him in time. ^ 3>? When I again called I found Mr. Ar- " [y# thur Field so far improved as to be sit- 81 ,j?. ting up, and even moving about his ^ all room a little. Mi68 AlliBon took me in 8 ^ to see him, charging me not to talk too 81 ;at much. And how assiduous she was in n )(j( her attentions?how closely she watched it even his looks and words in her anxiety to do all that could be done for him. f< ed And how quietly, intensely grateful he o tty was. o ,ce "She is an angeJl" he said to mo in r elf a low voice, in reply to some remarK of il 3 a mine on hei goodness of heart. "I had t 3 I no idea that such were to be found on h earth." jgt Miss Priscilla blushed a little when I n its told her of this. a ie> " He's a little weak-minded still, poor a fellow," she said, lightly touching her t j?" forehead with her knitting-needle (she t ;n. was knitting him a pair of socks, having already furnished the rest of his wardjd. robe). "By-and-l>ye ho will find out c ;e(j that angels don't go about in calico d on dresses and muslin aprons." f act She was afraid that he felt it a little s jy. lonesome, she said, as he grew well, li . J She had written to Alethia to pay her a I visit. They both drew, and they both n a liked the fame books, she had discov- a es> ered. Alethia would make it pleasant- 1 pag er for him. a After a while I noticed that she ( D(j left off calling herself his mother; t ed and that she took painB with her r 3e_ dress, and arranged her hair in a v for new and becoming style whioh gave 1 er her a much more youthful appearance. ' I even discovered the disappearance from her temples of a few gray hairs in_ which I had before observed there. As f ien for Mr. Field, he was all tender and respectful devotion, and evidently did ? me really consider her as in goodness at * )ry least something very near an angel. "Priscilla,"! said one day (I was J me somewhat older than she, and we had pay become friendly and intimate), "do you [ jll^ know that I think Arthur Field more jgjl than half in love with you ?" ied " Nonsense !" she answered. But she s ed, blushed painfully notwithstanding. j " Hasn't he told you so?" [ ventured, j In't On this she. burst info tears. And , ays then, in her usual frank and impulsive , to -way, it all came out. ive. "I know it is perfectly ridiculous," hy, she said; "an old woman like me, me, nearly forty years old, and a boy such ] hes m he, not yet five-and-twenty, But he 1 insists that years make little difference i r Fhere?where true esteem and?attachaent exists." A sudden thought flashed upon me, 1,1 ,nd I spoke it out at once in my fear or her. . , "He is noor. and von have monev ^ nough. Perhaps he is influenced by | ? hat consideration." | ^ "No," she answered, qnite calmly. J' 11 told him some days since, when he fas talking about leaving and looking Jj* or work, that he must stay here and b ake care of my little place. (It needs a; ooking after, you know, and he'll soon 0 sarn), and I promised to provide for ?] lim. Alethia will have enough of her wn, even if she don't marry. In fact, ?' told him that I would look upon him ?r s an adopted son and make him my P eir, and so he need not feel anxious 11 bout the future. And then he?well" c< lushing a good deal and her hands rembling a little?"he proposed that I -* hould take him as a hrutband instead ?' f a eon. And he said I was atill touiir, 11 bat people didn't grow old at five-arid- J1 birty, and that for himself, after all the irrible trials he had gone through, and f{ II my goodness to him, he should never >ve any woman as?well as he does me. " b's boyish talk, you see." Despite her attempt to speak lightly jJJ aere was a light in the old maid's eyes, ^ softness and tenderness in her voice, C? hich betrayed that to her this offer of ' outhful love?the first ever laid at her et, probably?was tho dearest to her ^ eart of anything on earth. "If I were young," she continued? J id there was a positive sharp pain in ro er voice and expression?"if I were ^ Dung and pretty as I once was, I might link of it. And if I had met him then, V > exactly like what I used to think ^ i the sort, of man I could love, so re- . --J J _.L1 J 1 A AiC Kf LiWU UUU UUUIO UliU 11UUUCUUC, ou nil- ? Tont from the coarse men I was aclstomed to ?why, we might have j lited each other and been happy to 3ther. But an old maid like me?why, 's ridiculous, isn't it? Peopl.o would .. ake no end of fnn over it." tt Notwithstanding all this things bein to assume a definite shape, such as , was impossible to mistake, and I whs ? 5t at all surprised when Miss Priscilla . Imittedto me in confidence that she j id Arthur Field were to be quietly jr., .arried in October. And, meantime, le added, Alethia was coming to stay ,, ith her until the marriage'should take aoe" wl Owing to circumstances it was two , eeks before I again saw my friend iss Allison. Then riding out to spend ... 1 afternoon and take tea with her, I . ;me suddenly upon her in the fields, alking very fast and nervously, and as with no special aim. She warmly r~ elcomed me, but not in her old brieht *n ippy way, and I noticed that she was oking badly. " Where is Mr. Field?'' I inquired. . " In the house." 0 " What, by himself ?" " Oh, no; Alethia is with him. Did b< >u not know that she had come ? Been ire nearly two weeks." Ni I had, in fact, forgotten Alethia's ex- T! scted visit, but presently approaching e house, saw Mr. Field bending over P* e shoulder of an extremely pretty and slicate-looking girl, apparently dicting her in a sketch she was making, iu lancing from them to PriEcilla I saw fr ;r lips unconsciously contract into an li1 pression of repressed pain which at H ice revealed the whole story. sii It waa wonderful what self-command e exercised during the eveniner. I am s^: lite sure that neither Arthur Field or a. ethia suspected that she was suffering. W1 it, indeed, they appeared too much pl sorbed in themselves and each other J? bestow much notice on other people. 1 repeated my visit on the following rr jek. It was now the young people J38 10 were looking miserable. Arthur br is seated beside Miss Priscilla, dutilly reading to her from a newspaper, arcely glancing at the ycung girl who >od with her back to him, looking urn the window. By-and-bye she went , t. lo: "Take this shawl to her, Arthur," id Miss Allison ; "she has gone to ^ ilk in the garden, and I fear it is ol." dl " T dnn'fc think if. i.q cnol." he ail rered, dully, "and I would prefer lying here, if I am. not in your way." in But I saw, and so did Priscilla, that aE s glances involuntarily wandered from a11 e window toward the slender figure 8e itering amid the rose bushes in the ar ,rden. Perhaj>s she expected him to ?1 How, but he conscientiously resisted ?? e temptation. aI On the Sunday following I met all ^ ree at the country church. Miss , llison was looking very badly, pale, >rvous and hollow-eyed ; but both the rang people were radiant. They were F remarkably handsome couple as they ? t one on each side of thfeir older com- ( inion, who looked older than ever from T ie contrast. Yet both were most tenjrly solicitous for her comfort, and rthur conducted her on his arm to her f d-fashionud carriage with an almost livalric devotion. I rode home with aj lem at her earnest request, and after . ir early tea we walked in the roseJ x 11 1 : IC imhu bugewer, icuviu^ iud jruuiig mple to themselves. " What day have you fixed upon for ?! 3ur marriage ?" I inquired. She drew a qnicfe, sharp breath, but lswered calmly: . " That is broken off. I shall never !E arrj." ! I was almost prepared for this. , " It was an absard notion from the rst," she continued, "and I am 8 . ' - - ' . - , rtf ihamed. of myself lor naving areamea I it." " " Has he said anything??" She interrupted me quickly. "No, no; not a word. On the con- ]?, rary, he insisted upon it until?nntil I acc6eded in making him believe that 0] had never really cared about it. You cj 3e, he held himself bound in honor. ^ kit they were so unhappy, he and Ale- ni ilia?poor child; and how could I be p 3 hard-hearted as to separate them? o I talked to them both, and?" here he broke down into a little gasping p ob?"they are to be married at Christ- D ias." f, " Does Alethia's father consent ?" w " He did not at first. He came down ci or a day or two, and I had to talk him tl ver to it. I mean to leave everything h f mine to Arthur; and shall meantime ii Dake over to him sufficient to prevent o ts being said that Alethia married a C ifggar. And in every other respect h le is her equal, if not. her superior." Tho generous, unselfish little old laid 1 I could have kissed her in my dmiration and sympathy, and I quite greed with Arthur Field when he said o me again, with great fervor and a cor- r< ain moisture in his fine eyes: "She is an angel I" ti I was not at the wedding, but Prisilia herself sent me a piece of tho wed- c ling oake. She wrote a few lines cheerully, telling of their plans, and of how he had purchased a few acres more of s and to make the farm larger for Arthur, iut I do not believe.that tho little old ti naid, though she makes a first-rate unfc, ever got entirely over tho first ovethat had come to her?too late, h las, to be to her a joy and a blessing, fc )h, youth, youth, what an inestimable reasuro thou art; so often lightly dis e effarded to be afterward lamented in r ain regret and yearning.?Suaan Archtr Weiss f President Arthur's Letters. ?c President Arthur, it is stated, receives 100 letters every day Allowing to ] ;ive each letter one minute's time, ten e residential hours of the twenty-four c ,re accounted for. A famous English- c nan of a century ago, who suffered from he same kind of inundation, used jleasantly to say that one-third of the etters he received were answered, that mother third answered themselves, and . hat the other third got no answers of 1 in.y kind. It is to be supposed that ihe President follows the precedent of * ;he Englishman, who borrowed his * practice from a royal philosopher of the ] assic time s. * i " Are you lost, my little fel- < low?" asked a young gentleman of a t four-year-old. "No," he sobbed, in j reply, " b-but m-my mother is." < A ROT'S TERRIRLE CRIME-, [urilfcriuff Two Men?The Youthful .">IurdereivLynched. The murder of two men in Minnesota { y John Tribbetts, a boy only fifteen j ears old, revealed a terrible case of ( outhful depravity. The boy was cap- | irorJ onrl fnlron t.A iail afkor mokiTIc ft 1 ill confession. About 1 o'clock in ie morning about twenty resolute men roke through the surrounding crowd ad began to batter in the outside door f the jail. It offered little resistance, ad they were soon inside. About this j me a wagon drove up, and the impreson spread that the boy would betaken itothe woods around" the town and ung. The lynchers found hard work i breaking opea the door of Tribbetts' ill; the sounds of the blows upon it j >uld be heard at a great distance, he crowd kept coming closer and oser, but were warned back in menacig toDea by the lynohers. As the door ielded to the blows and the victim was ; their mercy they took hold of him 8 )ugbly, when he exclaimed, " Don't t oya, tbis is too rougb I" ' I on win b link it is rough," was the answer. b He was taken out and the crowd ei- c acted to see him put in the wagon, i at the latter was only a blind, and 1 rove off without him. The lynchers irried him to the railroad track a few >ds away and began preparations to aish their terrible work. A ladder id been provided and was braced up gainst a telegraph pole, a rope as then thrown orer one of the mnds, placed around the neck of ^ or?/3 in o winnf.Pfl all as over. No one but the lynchers was ' lowed to come near the scene of the mging. All others were warned to >ep away and the warning wa3 enrced by the showing of revolvers. The history of the life and crime of >hn Tribbetts reveals the result of * cious training. He had been per itted to read trashy literature ana cutrated a nn'urallv depraved disposition. c e had often boasted that lie would J ake a 6trike to join the cowboys on the ? ains, and, as the sequel shows, the ^ lack Hills was his objeotive point His vorite literatare was the life of the imes boys, the Younger brothers, the ? fe of Billy the Kid, Burton the stage ? bber, and when he could not get any- ^ ling more blood curdling would draw F t the Hood and thunder trash with * \,r?i l -Tha uiuu iveoicru uuiudo aiv uuuutui ^uu >y was only fifteen years old, but of u bast development, yet looked but a ;tle more mature than his age would t dicate. He was large of frame, but c uscular ; had a most vicious cost of e mntenance and an unsteady, wander- C g black eye, but his firm set lips and luare jaw betrayed resolution. The s ther and mother of this precious villain <3 ?e at Perham and have the reputation a being very worthy people. a The following is the story of the t jy's crime: The scene of the murder c is Redeye, in Otter Tail county, orthwestero Minnesota, on a Sunday, s be victims were Edward Washington, E rveyor of the Minnetonka Mill com- o iny, late of Bay City, Mich., aged c >out thirtyfive, and George Feim- t icker, aged twenty-three, a German, t the employ of -Washington, recently t Dm New York city, and who had been i ring in Perham three or four months. ' T is onlv relative in this country is a i e ster living in New York city. They o ft Perham on the previous Thursday, t ating that they were going to look t ter hands. They were supplied c ith a tent and camping outfit, maps, o ats, etc. Ou Snnday they stopped I the houBe of John Dornbuscb, a f rmer living near Redeye. They ar?ed there about 10 o'clook, in cominy with John Tribbetts, the ljnched >y, with whom the deceased had opped and left a part of their outfit T e day before. Tribbetts carried a i: >uble shotgun, wnicn ne naa Dorrowea i c at morning of a neighbor named ichardson, ono barrel of which was ] aded with buckshot and the other | { ;ih line shot. Tribbetts started off in i c e timber, leaving the two men at \ jrnbnsch'B honse, where they stayed to t nner, leaving there at 1 o'clock, and s iting that they were going to section f which was pine timber land, carry- J g with them an ax and a revolver, t >d each having a silver watch fc ;d chain. They not returning I arch was made for them, c id their bodies were found, one on t te following Friday and the other on s iturday morning, about thirty sards t >art. "Washington was found with a r mshot wound in the back of his head, I ith his pockets picked, bis boots and t it gone, his maps and plats lying on ? :e ground beside bim, togetner wnu a a )cket compass. The body of Ferm- < icker was found about thirty rods )rth of the body of Washington. He a as found to be horribly butchered, a lie ground around the body indioated i ;at he hai made a hard fight with his 1 sailant. His throat was cut and his t mil broken by a savage blow from the ^ Young Tribbetts made his appearance a i Perham on Monday, the next day 5 Mowing the murder, with plenty of ^ oney, which was unusual for him. He t archased a new suit of clothes, had J is picture taken and exhibited a watch, t lain and revolver. He offered the s atch to 6e?eiHl different parties, stat- ^ ig that he was going West to Mon- c ma and that he would like to sell c lem. He finally sold his watch and 1 lain and took the train West, as it is e lpposed. The testimony before the t jroner's jnry disclosed the fact that j le watch and chain and revolver that i i? Mo nndoaooinn TPftrfl thfi rrOD? < CIO JLJUL utu ^/v/uuvuu* VM "?" ? f j:ty of Washington. He bad in liis 2 ossession about 85. The hat, < lbbers and stockings worn by ribbetts were fonnd near the bodies ' f the murdered men. Other strong < roumstances proven point unmistafea- 1 ly to his guilt. A post-mortem exami- 1 ation was made by Dt. Newcomb, of I erham. Four buckshot were found in i le brain and an extensive fracture of I le skull of Washington. The body of ' ermbacker was literally hacked to 1 iecos; more than twenty cuts, ranging 1 om the full breadth of the ax down- 1 ard, were found. The skull was tushed in and even the ribs were cut 1 irough by the ax in the hands of this 1 uman fiend. The remains of Wash- 1 igton were buried by order of the cor- ' ner and those of Fermbacker by the 1 latholic church of Perham, of which e was a member. mmmi , < WISE WORDS. ; The stoutest heart loses hope under i eipeated defeat. Better bend the neck promptly than 3 bruise the forehead. Wit is a merchandise that is sold but j an never be bought. He who proposes to be an author bould first be a student. If the power to do hard work is r ot alent, it is the best possible substitute or it. As any man may be compelled to eat lis words, he should never indulge in fitter speeches. There is no strength in exaggeration, ven the truth is weakened by being ex>res3ed too strongly. Excess generally causes reaction, and >rudence a change in the opposite lirection, whether it be in the reasons, >r in individuals, or in governments. Men in responsible situations cannot, ike those in private life, be governed olely by the dictates of their own inlinations, or by such motives as can inly affect themselves. No man can go into bad company without suffering for it. The homely >ld proverb has it very tersely: "A man :an't bite the bottom out of a fryingjan without smutting his nose." Manners must adorn knowledge and imooth its way through the world, [like a great rough diamond, it may do rery well in a closet by way of curiosi;y, and also for its intrinsio value. If honeet fame awaits the truly good; f setting aside the ultimate success jxoellence alone is to be considered, hen was his fortune as proud as any to ?e found in the records of our an SUNDAY READING. Long Life, We should live as long as we honoribly can. "We should do all in our power to bring the boon of long life to )thers. It is a matter of congratulation that the average length of human ife is on the increase?slowly but mrely. In the good time coming, yhen crimfs and intemperance and i?ar shall be reduced to the minimum ?when accidents shall be better o^ninef tnhnn /^ianooa cViQ 11 KA ^ UOIUCU n^niUDV) TUUU uiuwuv MV jetter understood and remedies more iorrectly applied?when the calmness )f Christian life shall tell more lignally npon the hnman frame, and ?hen the invigorating inflnencs of fenerations of correct life shall have oned up tbe whole race?then yearn hall be added to tbe average length of ife. Men of eighty will be as numei>U8 npon onr streets as schoolboys are o-day; men of ninety will crowd the aarts of commerce, and not until men ;re a hundred years old will they say hat the time has come to retire to pend tho evening of life. "There hall be no more thence an infant of lays, nor an old man that has not filled lis days; for the' child shall die 8 randred years old." Isaiah Iv. 20. There's a wideneBS in God's mercy, Like tho wideneaa of the sea: There's a kindness in His justice Which is more than liberty. For the love of God is broader Than the measures of man's mind ; And the Heart of the Eternal Is most wonderfully kind. If our love were but more simple, Wo should take Him at His word; And our lives would be all sunshine In the sweetness of our Lord. Rcllffloua News nnrt Nates. The Methodist Protestants propose to reot a mission honse at Yokohama, Jatan, for which they are raising the necsearv funds?about $12,000. The British and Foreign Biblo soiety. continues to be remarkably pros>erous. Since its organization it has irculated 94,000,000 copies of the Icriptures in 246 languages and diaicts. Bishop Simpson announces that Drl Icott Stewart in his will left $200,000 or the establishment of a Methodist tospital, and authorized the Philadel?hia conference to appoint a board of rustees for the hospital. The Presbyterian board of foreign aissions gathered in the past year kbont $592,000, and expended all of it >ut $650. The Church Missionary soiety (Anglican) reports its largest antual income this year. It is $1,060,00. Coney Island, New York's great seaide resort, which has a permanent reBilent population of over one thousand, r.d having daring the summer months population of many thousands, is to tave a free union chapel, to be used for hurch and Sunday-school purposes.; The supreme court of New Hamp hire Las decided that the right of the ew-holder is subordinate to the right if the society to repair or remodel the hurch, and, upon making compensaion to remove or destroy the pew, for he purpose of making needed alteraions and repairs. Of the thirty-two graduates of Union theological seminary, nineteen will nter on missionary work, either home * foreign. A paper has been passed hrongh the class, reading thus: "We, he undersigned members of the senior lass, do promise to enter on the work f missions, either home or foreign, if 'rovidence will permit." Twenty-four : the thirty-two signed the paper. ' A Letter to Old SoldiersThe following was eent by George V. Pt;cii, the Milwaukee Sun humorist, a response to an invitation to be presmt at a re-nnion of old soldiers : Tomuexi Cboft, Esq?My Beautiful Dreamer : Your invitation to me to be jresent at your bean banquet ia releived, and I regret to say that a p;oious engagement will prevent me from akingyouby the hand on that occaion, | and leading you through green matures and beside still waters. Do rou think I want to get all the beans in he country ? X am not a hog, Tom. I : mow when I get enough beans. That ast panful of beans at the Milwaukee . amp-fire fixed me, and I have , lot looked at a bean square in the face ' ince. I don't know what it is, but < here is something in beans that makes aen sociable and reckless. Beware of 1 >eans, Tom, as you value your future : lappiness. Look not upon the bean , phen it is baked and giveth its color in ; he pan, for at last it swelleth like an . icordion and biteth like a cucumber. But I would like to be there, Thomas, nd take the old soldiers by the hand, nd look into the eyes that are becom- 1 ng dim, and notice the effect of Father | dime's pencilings on the faces of the j V - X A. /?11 I tojB woo, twenty yearo ugu, wviv iuu ui itality and as kitteny a3 any man that ' iver kept step to the rattling of canteens gainBt a cartridge-box. Boys, do ou realize that yon are getting old? 1 !Vhen yon enlisted twenty years ago, he government was glad to welcome ron to the ranks; but if yon should go o a recruiting officer to-day ho would ay : " My friend, you are too old." fou feel like kicking the recruiting )fficer, but he would be right. Yon sonld not stand the marching, the ying under fences, sleeping in the mud ind living on army rations. It is hard 10 realize it, but if another war was to jreak out, your little baby that you left n its mother's arms twenty years ago, srooning at the blue uniform in which -on were dis&'uieed, would bo the chap ;he governmfcnt would want. Boys, yon are rapidly becoming "old jack numbers," though you feel young jnough to stub around home. You are 'exempt" now. Do you realize that via liOlo VicIitt i/irl flmfr. olnncr in Vftll RR IX1W Al%JVk\J vm*.- xs.v~D J pou said good-bye twenty years ago, ivith tears in yonr eyes as big as a glass paper weight or an editor's diamond, is now a woman, married, and that another baby is trying to ntter the word "grandpa" when you come in putting on youthful airs ? It is pleasant now to chase the festive bean aronr.d the home camp fire, and talk of the nights when you slept on the grouud in a pup tent, or some battlefield with your wet and muddy pantaloon legs as stiff as a dried coiflsh, while you dreamed thnt every star that was looking down from above was tho nye of a dear one at home beckoning to you to " Hold the Fort" and hnrry up and get through with the foolishness and come home. Yon can laugh now as you think how you got up in the morning after such a night's rest, looking as if yon had been drawn through a brush fence. You who are left have a right to be happy : bnt in the midst of yoar bean banquet let me ask you to stand up with your tin cup of black coffee and drink to " The Boys who Never Got Home," and the brave fellows who never returned to the loved ones they parted from twenty years ago.* Let us 1 hope that the great Congress above "removed the disabilities " of the boys who left vacancies in their regiments, and that the few chickens they took from the enemy by way of business will not be entered up against them in the Big Book, but that the provost guard on duty at the gates of the New Jerusalem will "present arms" to them, and tell the boys they are welcome to the best there is; and that when we all get in our work here, and are ready to join our regiment in heaven, the fellows that were buried years ago may stt.ud on the parapet as we come straggling in and give us the soldiers' welcome, "three times three," with a tiger, and we shall say to them : "All right, comrades; we would have been here before, only we were detained by business." # "Yes," said Mrs. Brown, "I guess it'ta all over between John and Maria. When John first went away, he used to write quite often, bnt they don't correspond now." "Humph," ej&oulated Mrs. Fenderwon, " they never did, in my opinion." " Well, I'll be bound," as the man remaiked when he heard quoted the of gold are fetters still." FOR THE LAJDIES. A Little French Romance. A romantic incident occurred recently in Bougival, a few miles distant from ] Paris. One of the youngest and most | fascinating of Parisian actresses, Mile. 1 L , who lives in that neighborhood, 1 was at 2 o'clock in the afternoon wend- ' iug her way to a friend's house, when ? as she neared the bridge she was polite- < ly addressed by a gentleman who, 1 faul tlesflly gloved, and with hat in hand, i said: "Madamoiselle, I find myself most i awkwardly placed. I have forgotten 1 my purse, and for want of a halfpenny 1 I shall be unable to cross the bridge I unless you kindly come to my aid.' i Mllo. L immediately felt for her I purse and at once handed to the "ex- ? auiaite" the coin solicited when, before J she Lad time ty close it again, he I dropped into the purse a tiny little > packet and rushed off with all speed. < On recovering from her surprise the < yoimg artist opened the said packet, ! which she fonnd to contain a magnifi- 1 cent turquoise ring and a note, which, i translated, runs thus: "Mademoiselle j ?For a longtime I have been burning i with a desire to possess eomething that 1 has belonged to you. Will yon forgive 1 the device and accept in exchange this < trifling pledge of the affections of yours, X?" The most amusing part of the story, however, is yet to be told. The gentleman in question, who is well , known in the financial world, was seen ( at his club to have exchanged the hand- | some gold locket previously appended , to his chain for a halfpenny mounted J wi'ih a simple but exquisitely-chased , gold rim. ( Hurnh Dresden. j The twilled surahs with or without satin nmsu are in great lavor lor street i euits, and these take the place of the | summer taffeta silks so long used, and rival the popular foulards. Dark surahs are used for the street, such as navy blue, gray-blue, very dark garnet and cypress green. These are trimmed with embroidery on the material or with the ecru mull embroidery, or else with black lace frills either of Frenoh imitation thread lace or the silk Spanish lace. Navy blue silk surah skirts with two narrow plaitings around the foot and low apron drapery that has a frill of French black lace four inches deep are very stylish. Dark green satin surah with a Greek apron on which is laid like a border eoru Irish point embroidery on mull, with the scalloped edges upward, is very effective. The polka-dotted or leaf-figured Spanish lace that is all silk edges the plaitings of black silk surahs |of light quality, j 'rtrile those that are heavier have em- i broidery in square designs only two or three inches wide asanedging lor plaited frills. A French fancy is to tnok these frills half their depth, stitching each plait near the edge to form a length wise tuck, then letting it fall loosely below, and sewing on laco or embroidery. For instance, edge a short wrinkled apron of surah with a plaiting six inches deep, tucked by machine down its upper half, and finished below with two inches of embroidery. To complete the front of such a skirt have two narrow knife-plaitings of surah at the foot, and above this another plaiting so deep that its head is lost under the apron just described; this very < \*iJe plaiiing is also tucked lengthwise 1 JJUU 1 ID UC^tU, LiiCf DilUJJlJ picotscu 1 tacked on the wrong side), and edged ] with embroidery. The back drapery is 1 then of two widths from the belt down to the lower ruffle, where it is tacked permanently, so that it cannot be dij?* placed, and may be either widely faced on the wrong side, or else its edges are turned nnder and sewed to the lower Bkirt. Such dresses mnst be made np on a foundation skirt of silk, alpaca, silesia or other fabrio lees flimsy than surah, in order to make the skirt preserve iis shape; and this is not to be objected to as a sham skirt, as it often costs as much or more than the thin 1 fabric of the outside which it is meant t to support; the best French dresses t have this foundation skirt, and the best \ modistes here use it, taking care, how- 1 ever, to so arrange the drapery that the foundation cannot possibly bo disclosed i when worn. ? The short round polka basque is much 1 used for summer surah dresses. This j reaches two inches below the waist 1 line, is nearly straight around, is whale- i boned to the lowest end of each seam < (as all basques should be), and is i finished on its edge with one or two i full bias puffs, or else two thick box- ? plaitings of satin, and perhaps on this i may fall a frill of Spanish lace that is very scant on the sides, and full like a fan in the middle of the front and back. A stylish ruche that is not too full i an^ fnaav fr\y f?*im mi'ncr fVia fAnf. nf a HUU iUODJ AVA 1VV/V Vt H ' Bilk skirt has first at the lower edge a i gathered frill, either straight or bias, < two iDchos and a half wide when fin- i ished. Then above this, with its lower 1 edge falling upon it, is the ruobe six : inches deep when finished, either i straight or bias, and gathered by three i parallel rows in tbe middle. It is well i to line this niche with crinoline or stiff < net, and to tack tho top edges to the ; skirt to keep it from falling.?Bazar. Pnflhloi) .Notrn. Pillowshams are said to be the invention of American housewives. On now silk hosiery appears embroidered butterflies in various colors. Grenadine dresses are stylish when finished with bangle jet trimming. Oriental lace is much used for trimming fonlard silfc, nun's veiling, albatross cloth and all tbe light woolen muslins in white and delicate colors. Dainty hats for garden wear are in nale rose color and ciel blue, trimmod with a monture of plumes and tips of tho exact shade, disposed to shadow the brim. To fix bonnet strings, many elegant pins are devised; notably, two arrows tied with a ribbon, a small umbrella in pearls with diamond handle, tunning hounds, owls' heads, and sets of five sparrows strung on a silver thread. Besides these there are eggs represented by pearls in a nest. Tho prettiest shoulder capes this seasonalo cut quite plain across the back, tilting the shoulders perfectly, but in front they are laid in loose easy folds across the chest, fastened together about the sixth button from the throat with a bow and by long ends of watered silk ribbon. .Spanish lace is the most popular garniture for black diaphanous materials; aad jetted passementerie and jetted ornaments come into use, with Spanish lace as the objective trimming. Sateen and French percale costumes have the skirt flounced from the foot to the waist, and without drapery; or the drapery is a short apron forming numerous wrinkles, or a demi-long bouffant ar * angement on tho back. Satee and pe cale are sometimes made up in the round, Garibaldi waist, which is worn with a belt. Handsome tea-gowns are cf French cashmere and surah, the cashmere forming the gown substantially, and the surah appearing in a puffed Moliere shirt-front. A charming gown is made of French cashmere in Turkey red, with the puffed front of rose-pink surah. The puffs slightly overlap ruffles of Oriental lace, and lace finishes the neck and trims the sleeves. The Late Eclipsc of the Sim. The scientific journals of Europo are j net now full of the re.\ults of the observations of tho last total eclipse of the sun made in Egypt by English and continental astronomers, whose work has been pretty fully reported by correspondents, and has attracted the attention of physicists to a degree only equaled by that performed by our own observers during the solar eclipse of 1878. In accordance with present tendencies in the study of solar physics, the astronomers connected with the English expedition have given special attention to the purpose of securing accurate photographs of the solar disk, the adjacent field, and the corona, and are reported as having been particularly successful in the?e repeats. FOR THE FARM AND HOME. Trouble with Butter. Batter is one of the most complicated products; its quality depends npon a great variety of conditions?the cow, bhe food, the air of the stable, the water, the milk pails, pans, and the place where the milk is set, besides many Dther things. When cream becomes lovered with a sort of pimples all over the surface, with here and there yellowish or reddish dots or spots npon it, it is attacked by a Bpecies of mildew or Frmnrno vnrr cnnn anrAoHfl all I throuph it. This spoils the flavor of the butter. From some troublesome md careful experiments the past winter the writer is convinced that this is caused by too much dampness in the milk-room or cellar and the presence of ?erms of mildew. The first was corrected by putting some fresh lime in the milk-room, which absorbed the ex 3eas of moistnre, and by bnrning sulphur in it to disinherit and destroy ;he milder germs. By burning sulphur, mlphurous acid is pioduced, and this is a very active antiseptic and destructive of all kinds of molds, mildews and ferments. It would also be well to look closely to the water drank by the ;ows. Asparagus Culture. Asparagus beds planted in the old way become matted with roots or crowded by accidental seedlings eo as to become either unproductive, or, if productive, the canes are ridiculously small. This may be remedied by cutting out alternate belts throtigh the bed one foot in width, taking out all plants from one belt and leaving them in the next. The trenches cut through the Dea snoum men do miea wnn numus and manure, thoroughly mixed to- t gether, and a liberal dressing of ( manure worked into the soil on 1 the belt itself. A very common mis- 1 take made by gardeners is in having 1 too little earth above the crowns of the i plants. T here should be from four to i six inches of rich loam above the crown < 90 that the canes will be bleached for t at least four inches before reaching the surface of the soil Plant an occasional j crown in a well-enriched plot in the < flower garden. The early canes can be [ cut for the table, and later ones will t make a very ornamental cluster during j the summer and fall. The old plan of i planting in compact beds has now been i superseded by the row system, in which j plants are set every two feet by six J feet. Asparagus, like all other salad i plants, must grow rapidly to be good and tender. Hence very rich soil is a necessary requisite to successful asparagus culture.?Boston Transcript. ( Hay for Fuel, ' A correspondent in the Prairie < Farmer, writing from Rogers Park, 111., , who claims to have had experience in hay burning, suggests experiments for the preparation of hay as fuel and expresses a firm conviction that grass treated according to his directions may be transformed into a mass closely resembling coal in all essentials. This correspondent suggests two experiments for the preparation of hay for fuel. First, pressing green hay fresh from the scythe into bales as for shipping. Press as solid ly as possible, and 30ver at once with dry straw and earth where the bales will be kept free from water, same as a pot ato pit or coal pit, leaving no air hole. After a few weeks when done nesting, remove tne bales } ?nd let them dry in the snn. In a few ( iays, according to thi* correspondent's ^ belief, they will be fit for fuel and almost ^ is solid as coal. , The second mode consists in filling a , Compartment of any build or tight pen >r box with green hay, undried, bnt :ree from dew or rain. Make the pile 1 is high as possible, cover the top with ' joarda, planks or straw and pat on ' weights of Btones or sand to afford 1 jompression. Let it remain undis- ' ;nrbed for a few weeks, then expose to 1 ;be air and snn to expel moisture, and, ( ;o quote from the correspondent, "there 1 vill be as near an approach to vegeta- j sle coal as it will be easy to obtain." The points to be observed in prepar- ' ng hay for fuel in the manner described } i? TTirof ernlnflinn nt nir dnn'ricr fViA 1 leatingprocess; second, weighting the ' lile to make as muoh pressure as possi- 1 )le; third, giving the air and sun free iccess to the pile after a few weeks to Iry out the little moisture remaining iround the sides. When dry enough J tor the store the mass iB to be cut with < i hay-knife or crosscut saw and kindled in cubes as coal. Motea on Hatching. Early layers are always early sitters, and those who want broody hens in : January and February, says a oorre- i 3pondent of the Journal of Horticulture, can generally manage it by hatching early, feeding well in autumn, and keeping them in warmish quarters to induce them to lay. A quiet nest, with a few dummy eggs in it, is usefnl in Buch cases. There ?is no difficulty in having broody hens from the end of January onward.* It is always best to allow old hens to sit and settle a few days before putting the eggs under them. From the first they should be in the nest they are going to sit in. Baskets, boxes or places made for the purpose will do. Too much space should nnt ho oriron* nnnndi fnr t.hfl linn to sit comfortably is all that is wanted. If the entrance to the nest can be closed so mnoh the better. Some advocate having the nest on the ground, others some distance from it; bnt I have hud as One hatches from the box nests, fonr feet from the gronnd, as from the level. The place shonld be cool, not over draughty, and the gronnd' should always be moist. I do not approve of trusting valuable eggs in woods or outside confined qnarters, as foxes are always prowling about. "Wi'.h young beginners broody hens are often liable to be over attended during the time they are. sitting. The less they are disturbed the better. Once a day ours are fed and watered, and after that they nuMr lfvitpH a>. ftcn/in nnf.il thfl fnl. lowing morning. They are fed on grain only. In connection with this there is another question which often leads to much donbt, and this is as to what time the hen should remain off ihe nest. YonDg pnllets will often rush back to it after being a few minutes off; others will stay away for an hour or more. In the one case are tho eggs overbatched, or, in the other, are they sufficiently so? To the first question we answer, no ; to the second, yes. So long as they do not remain off more than half an hour we never feel alarmed, and if they do go back at the end of the first five minuces it is just, tho same. Some little difference this may probably make, but I can say it is neither seen nor felt in practice. As a rnle our hens remain off their nests about fifteen minutes, Fnriti nnil Garden Note*. No system of farming is complete that dispenses with clover as a rotation crop. It is asserted thai nine-tenths of the foot and ankle ailments of horses are traceable to standing on dry plank floors. Sow mangles, sugar bee's, carrots and parsnips as early as poesible, and fit the land thoroughly before putting ia the seed. Dr. Augustus Voelcker commends the soiling system and characterizes pasturing as a most wasteful way of keeping stock. Melons, cucumbers and equashes are cultivated in the same manner, but they should never be planted near each other. One acre of land well prepared and well tilled produces more than two which received only tho same amount of labor used on one. Do not throw away the" young beets that you thin out of the rows. Tops and roots make a delicious sort of greens and are healthy. Self-interest demauds that a farmor should raise nearly all he consumes, which will enable him to pay cash for all he is compelled to buy. I Do not turn the manure in too deep, 3u,t we believe in turning it under the surface as soon as it is put upon the j ield. Especially is this true for potato and. 0 Every one understands that those lens which are most marked by patieDce e md centleness are the best fitted for ncubation. Choose a hen in this re- j ipect for her stolidity and want of liveinebs. The Germantown Telegraph recom- E nends keepers of fowls to grow sun- ^ Jowers in the out-of the-way places for A ;he seeds, which are excellent for the Doultry. And it ni'ght have added that F he plant is a good protection against nalaria. . A A New England man affirms that if *ou take a balky horse from the wagon, y ind with ono man at his head and au- i >ther at his tail, whirl him around in g he smallest possible circle, until he is lizzy, he will be cured of balkiness. At j ea/jt he will be after two applications >f the remedy. A Clover seed may be sown on fall leeded fields of rye, wheat or grass, ind the surface hanowed with a light, E 3ne tooth harrow, or rolled with an A ron roller, or both, as the character of ^ ;he soil may demand. If tbe surface is ight and fnll of cracks and the soil 1 noist most of the seed falling. into the jracks will germinate and grow. a The London Live iitoch Journal gives ;wo methods of starting a balky horse: ' 1. Tire your steed out by remaining perfectly quiet until he starts of his )wn accord. 2. When a horse refuses :o draw at all, put him in a cart in a ihed and keep him there until he 1 valks out. In one instance the obsti- ? late one was thirty six hoars in the nni ihaft8 before he gave in." by The Hon. George Geddes mentioned < it a recent meeting of the Onondaga tm N. Y.) Faimers' club that one of hifl 0f ields, to which no barnyard manure we lad been applied for seventy years, and Th which formerly had a bad reputation, ^ii a kept fertile by clover and plaster , ilone, and that the late John Stanton 3onld once spoke of its crop of timothy is the largest he hud ever seen. gr The best treatment for a mare in foal 8 to give her moderate exercise daily, 8jj, ;are being taken against over-exertion. <<. rhe food should be good clover and no ;imothy hay, well cut and salted, , abound oats, and a bran mash mixed ? with potatoes or other roots. Feed jome corn or meal, but not too much, ? in order to gnard against milk fever. 3ee that the colt promptly relieves the _v adder soon as possible after birth. Reclpett. bo Milk Cakes.?One ponnd and a half m* of flour, two onnces of butter, a pinch jf salt and a teaspoonfal of baking powder; roll out the paste thin and divide into- flat cakes; bake in a quick * jven. y Pineapple Pie .?One large pin eapple, pared and grated, one cup A sugar, *" Dne-balf cnp. of bntter, five braten eggs, 0*c i little nntmeg ; cream the bntter and "e sugar. Beat in the egg yolks, add the wa pineapple and spice, lastly the whites a"' 3f the eggs beaten to a froth. Bake w0 without upper crust. ] A Rich Tomato Soup.?Take eight f?' good-sized tomatoes, cnt them in half, put them into a saucepan with a bnnch of P? sweet herbs and an onion stuck full of he ;lovef, some allspice, whole pepper and salt. Cook them slowly until quite an< joft, then strain through a strainer or ani hair bieve until the tkins and onions hu md herbs only are left behind. Have a re{ ]uart of plain stock boiling hot. Stir nQ the tomatoes into it, add the yolks of all fwo eggs beaten up in a little cold pe: water. Serve with sippets of toast or ^g fried bread. da; New Potatoes Fbied.?The smallest cf new potatoes, about the size of hickory nuts, may be cooked in several de- Yo licious ways if you have the patience to k? scrape or paw them. Drop them in set 30ld water as soon as the skin is re- aft moved, have ready a pan of very hot *n' Gripping, drain the potatoes, dry with pe i towel and cook in the hot fat until you oan pierce them easily with a fork. lea [f the fat has been of the right temper* Pai iture they will be of a very delicate Ob brown. Drain in a colander, put them in a hot dish lined with a napkin, d" sprinkle with pepper, salt and linely jefi minced parsley. Serve at once. Russian Character. "Russia," as one of my easy-going ] friends said to me, while we sipped our we coffee after an excellent dinner on the ag< Vevdky, "Russia is a very pleasant th< place to live in after all." The people Wi are in many ways like kindly children. at Most of them care for none of theae es' things. The horror of an assassination, ge real as it is ior me umo, p&bbus uvw swiftly. Lady Olga returned one to day from a round of visits to ly tell us a terrible story. Hew a ari young widow, one of her intimate friends, had jast baen carried off to a 0D common jail, and kept there for a week hi amid disgusting iilthineas, and under w: the most degrading prison regulations, jn merely because one ol the recently ar- ej rested students had falsely represent- pr ed, rears ago, that she was his aunt. ca Her child of five she had been forced to leave unattended in her rooms. She was 8b not allowed communication with any of da Vior fripnda nnd fiven her landladv was th sp afraid of the whole matter that she pe professed to any one who called that she 0E did not know where or why the lady had ha gone. The x.arrator told"his story with 8p sympathetic horror and detail. When th she had finished an Englishman present pC exclaimed in indignation: "What a ij barbarous country it must be where te such tyranny is tolerated for a day." m But our hostess reproved him with a br dignified surprise at his impatience. m, "When such barbarities have hap- 8h pened as the brutal murder of our 8fc sainted czar, little inconveniences like be this are not to be wondered at. I pity W( my friend, bat I would not change the w} system." And so the Muscovite world ut goes on. Here and there an indi- ar, vidual drops ont into exile, or is removed to Siberia. He, ?<nd per- th haps a few of his immediate friends, g0 are converted into irreconcilable ab allies of the revolntion. But the circle ca where he had his place closes up and cr, forgets him. If this is so with the rich, a] it is equally so amonu the poor. Let y0 their privations bo ever so severe, they 8jt can always forget them quickly. They 0j] have something of the Trish capacity for being happy under difficulties, with- th out any of the Irish tendency to period- de ical and furious reaction against circum- ur stances. Like the Irish, too, thoy have 60 a constant resource in their deep re- eii ligious fervor. The Orthodox church jc is obviously far less of a spiritual and t,j moral power than Irish Catholicism; but the llassian peasant can always find _ a moment's peace, and even a very exquisite kind of happiness, when he Lurus aside iuto one of the gorgeous cathedrals and prostrates himself before the priceless sacred ti< pictures. Ho does not pray " for this and that advantage, temporal tli or heavenly. He does not repeat an Ti traditional formula. Much less does he ly bethink nimsclf of sin and repentance "t Be himply crosses himself and adores, lg and as the smell of the incense hang* 01 about the pillars, and the angel voices ol of the choir wander along the roof, the w; patient, miserable man is happy. ? Hie- .si: million'? Magazine. ar pi A young woman at a picnic near Mad- ri ison, Indiana, was warned by tbo young li' man with whom she was walking against in tumbling down the clifl's near them, '-t But she thoughtlessly went ahead and ? plunged over a precipice of rugged 'n rocks seventy feet high. 8he was so it lucky as to mis3 them all, landing in fc the mud face foremost,, whence she Ci) was pulled out with no broken bones and only a slight bruise. She will learn to listen more attentively to what young w men say to her. hi i < ( M. Verestchagine, the painter of bat " tie pictures, has recently had two tin- cJ gular compliments paid him by Conti- s< nental Governments. So vividly has he n depicted the horrors of the battle-held cl that in Russia the public exhibition of c< his paintings was altogether interdicted, ai while at Berlin the military authorities " forbade soldiers to pay them a visit. U Discontent. the pleasant autumn weather, When the golden fruit we gather, 'ft I think that I would rather See tho winter come. [ear tho piercing north wir.d roaring Through the tree-tops baro and brown, 'han this ceaseless rustle, rustlo Of the sere leaves falling round. iut when comes the winter dreary; 'hougli the hearth fire blazes cheery, nd the evening guests are merry Aa in years gone by, ain I'd see the spring buds bursting On the tree-tups bare and brown, ugtit bnt this continuous sifting Of the white flako falling down. ?hen with icy fetters broken, hough by human words unspoken pring comes, fitting sign and token Of the resurrection morn; 'hen I saw thee summer hasten With thy gorgeous sunset hues , .nd thy genial warmth and sunshine, And thy gently falling dews. tut when summer's thunder crashes, jid the fiery lightning flashes, , .nd the wild wave fiercely dashes ? On the rock-bound coast, lien I long again for autumn, Autumn with its burdened sheaves, .utJmn with its golden foliage, And the falling of the leaves. HUMOR OF T:iE DAY. i writ of attachment?A love letter. Ill Indian remedies for bringing oat 7/ hair will be regarded with distrust a man who has been scalped. Violet, dearest, do you play that ? le often ?" aeked Hugh Montreasor his affianced. " Yes, pet, and when are married 1'il play it all the time." en Hugh went out and shuddered nself to death. Vliss Brown, who is no longer young, b chiding Miss Moire for her foolish58 in carrying a parasol, which Miss oven said was useless and a piece of ectation. " I never carry a parasol," 3 said. "No," replied Miss Moire; jeople on the shady side of life have use fcr them." " Tell your mother I'm coming to sec r," said a lady to another lady's litboy, who replied : "I'm glad you 3 coming. Mamma will be glad, )." "How do you know yonr mother 11 be glad to see me ?" "Because I ard her tell papa yesterday that nody ever came to the house except in with bills to collect." "No man shall ever kiss me except r future husband," she said, as he s about leaving the gate. "Suppose agree to be your future rhy, then I'll kiss you," she replied, ?erly, and she did. Her mother was ormed that he had proposed, and the I lady called around next day to setmatters, and before he knew it he s eternally hooked. It was a mean rentage, but a bird in the hand is H * 11- . B i. j._ rin two on me irouo gato. [ijdia Adams, who died in Missouri a v days ago, sold peanuts to Washjton's soldiers. This is a most imrtant fact brought to light. We had ard of the torn clothing of the Oonentals, of their long weary marches i their bloody footprints in the ice i snow over which they traveled; t never were we aware that they were jularly regaled on the seductive peat. We are glad to know that amid their hardships and sufferings the anut was an ever-present ark of refe and puissant tranquillizer in thtir y of trial. A mamIIama? A( riAlnmVvtia HtiiH aI ^ l ^Ciibiouiau vi vuiuuiuuo) vmv| vi her an eccentric turn, visited New >rk and wandered one Sabbath into a ihionable church and complacently ited himself in a vacant pew. Soon er a gentleman and his wife came in d sat down in the same pew. The atleman eyed the stranger critic illy a minute and then wrote on the fl /if of his prayer book, " My pew," and ssed it over to the intruder. The lio man read it, smiled sweetly, an I * ote under it, '' Real nice pew. What 1 yon pay lor it?" The New Yoik< r irned that he was an Ohio man and rited him to dinner. Esquimaux Weapons. [f you were to examine tlie qnrer apons by which the Esquimaux mnne to capture their seals?specimens of jm are in the national museum at Mhington?you would be astonished their roughness. It is very difficult, pecially for the northern bands, to t any wood, excepting sticks that are shed ashore, and a piece long enough make a good spear nanaie is exireaierare. In most cases, therefore, they i obliged to splice two or three orb pieces together, and this the; can ly do by slanting both ends, and nding the pieces at their juncture itlx strings of rawhide or atrips of testine. The striking end of the lear usually consists of a long and etty straight piece of bone, such aft n be got from a whale's or walrus* eleton, and this is tipped with a arp point of bone, or flint, or (noways gonerallj) of iron. Sometimes is tip is movable, so that when it metrates the prey it will come off and ily bfl held by the line, while the ,ndle floats, secured by a loop. Other ears have each a skin buoy attached, is making it more difficult for the >or animal to swim away,.and also ilping to float the weapon if the hun* r misses his aim. The stout lines are ade of seal hide, or sometimes of aided spruo3 roots. The "ho^ts" entioned pbove have wooden or bone afts, to the end of which a carved and arpened hook of bone is firmly mnd. Besides, there are other rou^h ;apons and a kind of net, in all of lich the seal's hide and bones contribe to his tribe's destruction, and which 9 marvels of savage ingenuity. Many of them are *used later when eice breaks up and the Esquimaux can ' out in their kayaks. The kayak is out twenty feet long, but can be rriecl by the ODe man who forms the qw.j It is all decked over, excepting ittle round hole through which the ung Esquimau squeezes his legs and ;sdown. Then he puts on a tight [skin coat over his garments, and ties down to the deck all around him, so at no water can pour in "'tween eke." But on the other hand, he must itie the knots before he can get out; if by chance he capsizes, he must iher be content to navigate head iwn and keel up, or else must right mself by a sort of somereanlt, which all bring him up on the opposite side and this he often actually does.? St. icholns. Laziness in Thinking. Tn ono of our ''Letters from Prac:al Men," occurs this expression : There are more men too lazy to think an too lazy to work with their hands." Lie fact that men can work industrious- _ with their hands every day from ' ?arly morn to dewy eve," and yet be zy, perhaps, has impressed itself upon ily a 6mall proportion of intelligent ^servers. A little reflection, however, ill discover that there is nothing incon9ti nt in such an assumption. There are tisans and business men who make ogress to a limited extent and stop ght there for tbe remainder of their res. They are never found idle durg the time for work, yet they dnn't link viith any original iffort. The man bo thinks while he works with his inds is head and shoulders above the ead? plodder who manifests no desire ? make improvements by studying out mse and efljrct.?American Muchxnist. A farmer who had some cider to sell as pricing teas, and found that they ad risen several certs a pound. What's made tea rizV said he. Scarcity of tea chests," said the^merliant. However, ho agreed to take )me to be paid for in cider. " How inch's vonr cider?" askeii the merbant. '"Twenty cent?." "Twenty ?nts!" cried the merchant. "What re yon asking such a price as that for ?' Cause bung-holes is scarce," said the trmer.