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rABBEVILLE PRESS WffilfflS t BY HUGH WILSON AND H. T. WARDLAW. ABBEVILLE, S. C? WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 22, 1882. NO. 25. VOLUME XXVII. ,||||1 In the Mining: Town. [ "Tisthe last time, darling," he gently said, I As he kisstd her lips, like cherries red, ^ While a fond look shone in his eyes of brown. ' My own is the prettiest girl in town; To-morrow the bell from the tower will ring A joyful peal. Was there ever a king I, So truly blest on his royal throne, | As I shall be, when I claim my own?'' f 'Twas a fond farewell; 'twas a sweet good| bye; I But she watched him go, with a troubled I So into the basket, that swayed and swung F O'er the yawning abyss, he lightly sprung, \ And the joy of heart seemed turned to woe I, As they lowered him into the depths below. ner sweet young face, -with its tresses brown, Was the fairest face in the mining town. Lo! the morning came; bat the marriage bell, High up in the tower, rang a mourning knell For the true heart buried 'neath earth and stone, Far down in the heart of the mine?alone. A sorrow-peal on her wedding day, For the breaking heart, and the heart of clay; And the face that looked from her tresses r brown Was the saddest face in the mining town. Thus time rolled on in its wear}1 way, Until fifty years with their shadows gray Had darkened the light of her sweet eyes' glow, And had turned the brown of her hair to snow. Oh! never a kiss from a husband's lips Or the clasp of a child's sweet finger-tips, Had lifted one moment the shadows brown From the saddest heart in the mining town. Far down in the depths of the mine one day, In the loosened earth they were digging away They discovered a face, so young, so fair? From the smiling lips* to the bright-brown hairUntouched by the finger of time's decay. "When they drew him up to the light of day, The wondering people gathered round To gaze at the man so strangely found. Then a woman sprang from among the v crowd, * "With her long white hair, and her slight form bowed; 8he silently knelt by the form of clay, And kissed the lips that were cold and gray. Then the sad old face, with its snowy hair, On his youthful bosom lay pillowed there. He had found her at last?his waiting bride; And the people buried them side by side. I A Carious Disposition. Three ladies were seated in Agatha Foster's parlor; Miss Fortescue, large, dark and of uncertain age, who monopolized the most comfortable armchair ; Mrs. Becker, shrunken and sandy, who was constantly sliding off the sofa and reinstating hejself with a jerk, and Miss Agatha herself, who sat apart from the others, glancing uneasily out of the window, as if distressed by their garrulity. Miss Agatha was a fair young woman, with a noble head and a countenance expressive of all grace and goodness. Yet at this moment she entertained feelings decidedly hostile to her callers, who had run in, with the familiar free dom of fellow boarders in a family hotel, to chat away the afternoon. At heart they were immensely sorry that Miss Nannie Foster had not yet returned from ? a suburb, where she had gone the day before. Miss Nannie, Agatha's cousin, companion and chaoerone in one. was I far more to their taste; she was more attentive, more easily impressed, more sympathetic, they thought. She never sat looking out the window when they ; were retailing their choicest bits of scandal for her especial benefit. But then she was a woman of years. However, they still lingered; it was a pleasant place. The Fosters had the handsomest suite in the building?and furnished with such taste! Such carpets! Such decorative art! And the Fosters were tip-top people. There were four of them, Mis3 Agatha, her two bachelor brothers, ten and a dozen years her senior, and Miss Nannie,who, since their parents' death,"had kept the children together. The winter day drew to a close, the room grew dusky, and still the ladies lingered. Agatha could endure it no longer; this, of all days, she was 'without patience. She rose quickly. "Ladies," she said, with an indignant quiver in her sweet contralto voice, " you must excuse me. I cannot listen to such conversation !" 1 xiicic u<u* Mieuce d luuniuiit, turn Miss Fortescue lifted her cumbrous frame. "Oh, certainly. I quite understand. "We will withdraw. "We do not wish to offend." " Oh, certainly," faintly echoed Mrs. .' Becker, sliding from the sofa for the last time and preparing to follow. Agatha's impatience only increased. "And allow me to say," she exclaimed, with no compunction, "that I think ladies might be better employed than with their neighbors' affairs." " Good-afternoon," said Miss Fortescue, savagely. " Good-afternoon," sneered Mrs. Becker. . " Good riddance!" cried Agatha, sharply, ere the door-had closed. "To-day of all days," she said, as she walked to and fro in the dusk. Presently the door opened. 44 All in the dark, Agatha?" asked a I cheery voice. " I thought you would never come, Nannie," was the swift, unnerved reply. " Why, what is the matter, my dear?" " I liave just put Mrs. Fortescue and Mrs. Becker out of the room, and it? has annoyed me." "Dear me, what had they done?" "The same old sickening gossip. Miss Brace flirts on the street; Mrs. Gray holds her step-child to the fire to bum it, and so on and so on." "They get their ideas from the morning papers," said Nannie, calmly, unclasping her fur-lined circular. " The stepmother holding the child to the fire is a favorite paragraph when news is scarce. Sometimes she heats the flat-iron. For my part I would never go to that trouble." But Agatha could not respond to her staid humor. She helped put away the wraps, and inquired after the suburban friends. "You look pale; aren't you well?" asked Miss Nannie when they were seated. The girl dropped her eyes. "Nannie, I have some news for you," she said with an effort. "I?last night?I promised Mr. Peters?to?to marry him." Then she sighed as if relieved of a great burden. The room was still, utterly still. If I Hiss Nannie were surprised or shocked j she gave no token. She only sat quietly ! looking at the girl and taking time to collect. Agatha never lifted her eyes until, after some moments, her cousin cleared her throat and tranquilly inquired : " Well, dear, are you satisfied that you will be happy ?" Then the girl rose and threw herself upon- the sofa. " Oh, Nannie, I don't know; I can't tell." More silence. Then Miss Nannie asked if she had told the boys. To these women George and Lewis would be "the boys " as long as they lived. "I told George at noon," replied Agatha, in a voice heavy with tears. "Lewis was not here. I wish you would tell him." And what did George say ?" "He only said, 41 congratulate Peters."' Miss Nannie leaned back in the chair and meditated, bringing Peters up for | a mental review. Poor little whiffet! i To be sure he had money, some social! standing and a fair education. They had known him a long, long time, and even felt for him a sort of distant rel^ lives'''affedjjgg^Chey would^tfH| thing in took Agatha about, to places of amusement, to church, or riding. But he ! was at least fifteen years her senior, anil they had never dreamed of his aspiring to marry her. His appearance was pitifully against him. Miss Nannie reviewed his had build, his bowed legs, his " wild eye," as she called it, a suspicious eye that seemed to skirmish about the room while its mate regarded you with steadfast respect. Then she turned her thoughts to Agatha?Agatha perfect in face and figure and ennobled by education and advantages? Agatha, for whom a senator had proposed and a congressman languished, to say nothing of her lesser adorers? Agatha, who had rejected the senator because he lacked principle, and the congressman because he was a widower. Xannie remembered that the girl had suffered and shed tears over refusing these and others. She had a curious disposition, as the boys had said. At lengtli Xannie roused and spoke. " I will tell Lewis; and now, dear, you had better dress, it is near dinnertime. " "Ilark!" cried Agatha, "there he is now?gone into his room." Xannie recognized the clumsy step, Lewis had never yet come up those stairs without tripping at the top; the rushing, impetuous way of his boyhood would always cling to him. "I am going at once to tell him, before George comes," said Xannie, rising. "Yes, do," sighed Agatha. And when her cousin had gone out across the corridor, and her tap had been welcomed by a careless " Come in!" the young girl stole after and listened at the crack of her brother's door. " Lewis, I have news for you," said Xannie, gently, and there was a hidden sob in her fond voice. "Agatha : has promised?to marry Mr. Peters." " Oh Lord!" cried Lewie, in open- K mouthed disgust. Agatha crept away from the door ; her lace was burning and her heart beat hard. But Miss Nannie remained awhile in her cousin's chamber. "Lewis," she said, gently, "I sup- 1 pose we all feel the same over this? : matter? Agatha says when she told George he remarked that he 'congrat- 1 ulated Peters.'" " Well, this is too bad," said Lewis, indignantly. "It is a shame if a girl with her face and brains can't do bet- 1 ter. She is altogether too soft-hearted. : She would have married all the men who ever proposed, if we had let her, 1 and out of sheer pity, not because she cared for them. That is why she ac- : cepted Peters, couldn't bear to hurt ' his feelings^?didn't want his eyes to ' suffuse with tears ! We must do some- 1 thing to prevent." ( Nannie smiled deprecatingly : "We ' must be very careful. Agatha lias a ' curious disposition, and if she thought ' we were all against him she would | only pity him the more." " If there was only some way to dispose of him," exclaimed Lewis, grimlv; 1 "if we could send him out with the next Arctic expedition?" Xannie rose. "You will be very 1 careful what you say, Lewis?" 1 " Oh, of course." 1 She lingered at the door. " Agatha ; has not a forceless nature by any means," she said ; "she can get angry if she cares to. She tells me she put Miss Fortescue and Mrs. Becker out of our parlor to-day, because of their vile i gossip. I have no doubt she did." "Ilumph!" 1 ***** Agatha came down to dinner with her face composed and her manner gracious as ever. Her inward defiance was not outwardly manifest. Of her family, George was a shade more dignified than usual, and Lewis appeared annoyed, while Xannie put on a regretful look and sighed occasionally. "When they left the dining-room, Agatha swept haughtily by the table, at which sat the Fortescue and Becker. She was done with the twain and intended they should see it. Up in their parlor, George sat down by his sister. "Agatha," he said, slowly and with an evident distaste fnr t.hft Qiihippf l4rlr* v/vn thinlr I v"v W?VJVVV, VAV J VV* W* AAA IV. JWU (lid well to engage yourself to Mr. Peters before consulting your family?" "I was of age three years ago," she said, regarding him with serene dignity. " Yes, yes, of course. But there is such a thing as advice. Mr. Peters is our good friend, but is he a suitable husband for you ?" " What is there against him?" she asked, unflinchingly. She was not blind to her lover's bodily imperfections. She had lain awake all night mentally endeavoring to straighten his crooked limbs and control his recreant orb. But with daylight they i had dawned upon her as uncompro-! mising as ever. But George would not stoop to per-; sonalities. "Nothing," he answered, quietly. "Only we have looked very I high for you. We want you to be happy." "Then do not speak against Mr. Peters," she said, in a way that seemei1 to dismiss the subject. George betook himself to his own room, and Lewis took liis place by Agatha, "I suppose I am to congratulate," he said, with a careless disregard of Nannie's injunctions. "You do not seem very enthusiastic," responded his sister, calmly, recalling his secretly-heard exclamation upon first learning the news. " I can't help it if I don't." he answered, half impatiently. "You know how proud we are of you. Oath, and j we can't be expected to think any man | good enough." She smiled. He went on recklessly: " I don't be-! lieve you knew what you were doing. | You don't love Peters, you only pity j him, just as you used to pity the sena- j tor and all the rest. This crooked little i curmudgeon! Why, he is older than I George, and cross-eyed?" She sprang up in a rage: "Lewis, you have said quite enough. Never speak to me again. I forbid it!'' Then she sought her own chamber and threw herself upon the bed. Nannie came to her after awhile "My poor darling! Why are you feeling so bad ?" " Lewis has been saying such awful I things!" " And are you quite sure you 'have : made no mistake?" " Quite sure?" She arose and arranged her toilet; Mr. Peters was to come that evening. He arrived early. Nannie endeav oral to be gracious, but excused herself, leaving Agatha to her lover, the, boys having both gone out. And1 Agatha, with Lewis' cool criticism still ringing in her ears, felt as if in a j dream. Fortunately Peters made no I inquiries as to her brothers' opinions of the marriage. Miss Nannie had con- \ gratulated him as though all was satis- i factory. Agatha accepted his adoration quite passively, and at hist, when he had ! gone, retired to her own room to pity him, and tell herself how much she loved him. But as the winter slipped away the engagement was announced, and, having remained unbioken, Agatha's brothers even beg;in to feel quite re-1 signed. The quiet, intense devotion of Nor- j man Peters was touching. He worshiped his betrothed; to him she was a very goddess.' "If," thought Nannie, with a softened regret, 44 it he were only not quite so small! If he wereonla^^^Jn^ ^aner^obeof^^fnflNBflBBH self to dentil. A thousand little heartless sarcasms and glances of ridicule, to which Peters, in his great happiness, was utterly oblivious, were constantly stabbing her. Night after night she passed in wakeful agony, the idea of breaking the engagement never once occurring to her. She was sure she loved him, and she realized the depth of his devotion. .She endeavored to rise above morbid sensitiveness, telling herself that people would cease their cruel ways when they saw that she was determined to stand by him. But she grew thin, and her face wore a hunted expression. Mesdames Becker and r urtescuu now uegan to circulate peixy little stories about her?ingeniously constructed, but untruthful romances. Nothing very bad, for Agatha was a woman to whom no doubtful mist clung for a moment; but whispers of "coquetry," "girlish folly," and "last resort," which were blown from lip to lip on the dubious breath of friendship, came at last to vex the ears of the Forsters. Agatha only grew more pale. Stormy Lewis, however, one day confronted Miss Fortescue in the hall before his sister's room.' " I can tell you, madame, that you must discontinue your talk of my sister," he cried, angrily. Agatha came out. "Oh, Lewis, dear." He took her by the arm. "Go back, Oath. I've a matter to settle with this lady. She knows what mischief she has been trying to work, and I intend the talk shall cease, or 1 shall take measures she may not admire." Without a word Mrs. Fortescue turned and lied. " I was sorry for her," said Agatha; " she 'ooked so guilty and helpless." " I declare I haven't much patience with you," exclaimed her brother, " to think that you would defend her, and she every day assailing your good Fame. But all your ways of late are provoking. You are going to marry a man you don't love, because you pity him. For God's sake, why didn't you nif.v stiinp nni' siiit.nlilfi'J" f'V .She trembled with excitement and passion. " Lewis, if you have the least particle of luve or respect for me, you will never speak so again. I do love Norman, and it will kill me if anything should break the engagement!" Lewis quit her presence crestfallen. The days slipped by. There had been no date fixed for the wedding, nor was the subject discussed by the family. None but Nannie knew the terrible tremor in which the girl existed. She was moving about, her hands constantly occupied. Day after day, rain [>r shine, the two women were out of floors. They had always an errand, usually one of mercy. Nannie, however disinclined, would have felt it a sin to oppose, and so Agatha dragged tier off through the Hitting sunshine, the moodiness, the chill, or the storm af the springtime, until one last morning. It had been raining for three days, and so steadily that the sidewalk Hags were cleaned and whitened. Agatha said they would not be hampered witli a carriage, and thev took a car for ;i mile or so, alighting to walk a few squares to another line. The storm had abated, and the rain was but a listless drizzle. Agatha slipped and slid once, and Nannie gave a frightened exclamation. " My overshoes are useless," said the girl, carelessly. "I must have another pair. I have a good deal of shopping to do soon." "Your outfit?" ventured Nannie, and stopped. Agatha sighed, but the sigh was lost in the noise of the street, A poor little yellow dog limped out from under a passing vehicle, holding up one paw and yelping pitifully. "Oh, see," cried Agatha, with her eyes wet. "Poor, poor doggie! I am so sorry!" The yelps died away in the distance, and the ladies went on. A blind man crying "Cough lozenges?" upon the corner detained them for a moment. In the next block an old building had been torn away to give place to a new one. Careless workmen had left the sidewalk unguarded in one place, a step from which would have landed one in a deep cellar, where lay a numlinr rtf lnncp frmmint.inn Just as they had reached this spot they were brought to a sudden halt by loud cries and confusion. Down the j street, and directly toward them, came a runaway team dragging a splendid | carriage. Agatha took an irresolute step forward, and then sprang back as the horse dashed up against the sidewalk. The women were thus separated,! and in a second Nannie was reaching forward, cold with horror. " Agatha!" she cried, but too late. The girl had lost her balance, and had fallen backward from the unguarded sidewalk down into the deep cellar, and there lay upon the stones limp and unconscious. ***** She would live, sadly crippled and helpless; the spine had been injured and one hip dislocated. So said the best of surgeons. .She would henceforth require all care and tendernesss. " Thank God she is not poor !" cried Nannie. As for the boys, George was completely crushed, and Lewis paced the lloor for hours, crying for' his " 1'oor, poor sister!" Agatha insisted upon hearing the worst, and, when it was made known, was silent. Bv-and-bye Nannie could see great tears trembling under the long, dark eyelashes. 1 would not mind," faltered the sufferer, "but for him. Who will love and care for him now?" Then she asked that he be sent for at once. When he arrived Nannie and the boys were in the room, but they withdrew to the window. Peters' face was as pale as Agatha's own. " Norman, dear," she said, without a preface, "I am a cripple for life. I may never walk again. I sent for you ?to give you back your freedom." A frightened expression overspread his countenance; his lip quivered and he sank on his knees by the bed and buried his face. "Agatha, darling!" he cried, with real pathos, "don't, don't cast me off ! You are a thousand times dearer to me now. All I ask is the right to care for you"?his voice broke, and he fell to weeping. By the window three persons heard it all. They looked in silence at each other, then Lewis strode swiftly across the room. " Peters," he said, " we haven't done right by you. I, myself, have acted despicably. But if you will forgive and forget, it will be very different in the future." Then Peters, who had risen, stood silent and bewildered till, through the mist, the room grew suddenly bright, for they had encircled him and were clasping his hands with sudden warmth. And as Agatha lay watching she raised a feeble hand to stay the tears that coursed her cheeks. " I never thought," she sobbed aloud, "I never dreamed I could l>e so happy!" ______________ A Norristown man, who couldn't live within his income, was advised to dispense with a few luxuries. He immediately sold his gun and hunting dog and bought a share in a yacht. Many a man would have smoked a cheaper cigar and made his wife wear her hist year's dress. ?Herald. A man in Elgin, Illinois, put on a yi|^^f|^^ith such energy the other arm. It is a duty his THE FAR;! AN1> HOUSEHOLD. Making Compost. The usual proportions for a compost of manure, muck, lime and sishes are ten loads of muck, spread evenly for a bottom, in a pile about ten feet wide and forty feet long. Then three I or four bushels of line air-slaked lime I and as much ashes mixed ;is much as possible with the muck by leaving the muck roughly spread; then a load of manure; then ten loads of muck and lime and ashes as before, and so on until the heap is five feet high. This will give about eighty to 100 loads, which is enough for one heap. It will soon heat, but not enough to hurt, as the muck will require a good deal of heat to rot it. But if it is turned over and well mixed once in the winter it will be in line condition by the spring, and will make a rich top dressing for fall grain or grass. Crossing Corn. The method of crossing corn is to plant the diferent kinds in adjacent rows or hills, and to cut off the tas sels from the kind that is to be improved as soon as they appear. But this operation will not change the number of rows on the crossed corn the first year; this is impossible, because thfe cob is the flower stalk and must grow before the silk, which is part of the flower, is produced, and cannot be changed afterward. The corn may be changed somewhat the first year, but that is not always shown by its appearance. It is when it is sown for seed that the change is seen, and then it will probivbly be very uneven and varied, and but few grains may be found as they were expected to be. One cannot get a perfectly established cross-bred corn until after several years of cultivation. After the cross one must select the seed which suits him and plant that, and so keep on selecting and planting until it all comes true. Soiling. It is generally believed by most dairymen that succulent food is very : much better for cattle than dry food, but there are certain considerations to ! be taken into account before one can rest assured that such is the case. A cow may never do better than when 1 grazing in good pasture. Indeed, she J may never do as well; but a good pas ture is one where the grasses are of the ; best known species, and where they J are kept fed down sufficiently close so that the feed is young and tender. I The best pasture grass is not compara- 1 ble with any ordinary hay cut from 1 mowing fields, nor indeed with the hay i that might be cut in the same pasture 1 left to ripen as is the custom in mow- : ing for hay. When some careful ex- ] perimenter will be_ to the trouble of 1 collecting the grass* of a good pasture, precisely in the condition the cow , herself would collect it when left to her free choice, and will then i quickly dry that feed and give it to the j cow in a comfortable stall with its i much pure water as she may desire, . he will have taken one step toward ] making a test between green and dry food. It is our opinion that if the cow likes the dried grass as well as j the green, and consumes an equal J amount in each case, the results, as ; shown in gain of flesh or in milk, but- j ter or cheese product, will be practi- j callv the same. An experiment more | easily made is to take the green grass j of an ordinary mowing field just ready \ to cut for making into hay. Feed the grass green, note how much the cow ( consumes, then feed of the same dried, J 1 4-:*-. ' in trijucii quantity icaa tno aiuuuuu \jl ^ water dried out, and note the difference ^ of milk or butter product.?New Eng- ^ land Farmer. Coal Anhcs an Fertilizer*. 1 Vast quantities of coal ashes are 1 thrown away as useless in this couutry yearly, but there i3 an element of 1 value in them for fertilizers. It is, ' however, so small that practically ' coal ashes are of little utility for the ' purpose mentioned. The Boston ] Journal of Chemistry says that the 1 ordinary ashes resulting from the ] combustion of anthracite coals do not 1 differ essentially in chemical constitu- '< tion as they are found in different parts of the country. There is, how- ; ever, a slight variation, caused in a ] large degree by the different methods < of combustion. Coals burned in stoves < in families are usually burned under i conditions of low combustion at lower 1 temperature, and therefore the ashes i are more valuable than those which i come from furnaces and steam-boilers, ] where the combustion is quick ] and intense. They contain rather mnrp snlnblp. crnistitiifrnts which :iro available to plants. Hard coal ashes : usually afford from three to five per : cent, of soluble material, and tlii s con- i sists of a little potash, lime and silica, j tlie silica predominating. There are ; from fifty to one hundred pounds of sub- ( stance assimilable by plants in each ton ; of coal ashes ; the remainder, 1,900 ( pounds, more or less, is practically valueless. It may, however, serve a good purpose when spread on low grounds, affording like sand a drier condition and helping to warm and protect the roots of the more valuable grasses. When coal ashes can be procured convenient to a farm of considerable low ground, it will pay for a farmer to haul and spread them, provided it is done when other work is not pressing. But it should be remembered that all slag or clinkers must be removed, as they are a great trouble on mowing lands. Stivlng Heed Pay*. There is money in it. We have proved the value of home-grown seeds for many years. Pedigree pays as well in seeds as it does in cattle or in man. The only way to have a good pedigree is to raise the seed yourself, or secure it from some neighbor or seedman who has a reputation to lose. If you are a careful cultivator and have cultivated a particular kind of field-corn for a dozen years or more, selecting the best ears from the most fruitful stalks, while they stood in the field, and kept the corn improving from year to year, you have corn with a pedigree, ami it can hardly fail to give a betl : * r next year than any seed corn you can buy, far or near. Farmers are too apt to be careless in this matter, and wait until planting time before they secure their seed. They then go to the nearest cotintry store and take what they can get, not infrequently old seed papers mixed up with new. You will notice that packages of seed sold in such stores are seldom dated, so that the purchaser has no clew to their age until he tests them in the field or garden and finds them a fraud. The best season of planting most seeds is short, and great loss comes of using old seed, either by total failure of crop or the increased labor of replanting. Ordinarily a thrifty farmer can raise nearly ail tne seeds of the crops grown upon his farm and garden cheaper than he can buy them, and of much better quality. This will be worth a good deal to him, not only in saving the outlay for seeds, but in the increased productiveness of the crops planted and in the habits of close observation which it will secure for all other farm operations. In seed-growing, as in all other 1 operations relating to cultivation, common sense must be used. "\Vho' ever grows four or six kinds of squashes or melons in the same patch, should know that the seeds from these will be tnidly mixed. If used, the product may bo of value, but the chances are that such seeds will bring a crop of mongrels not worth growing. In advising the raising of seeds we also advise the use of proper cautioxy Those who closely .1 ftbffflrrfi ttIII fifflirftcrr tihtr can avoid .j.r V ??^ i the admixture .and secure a supply of seeds true to their kind. Growing sfictl that, vnn ;irp willing to nlant vnnr self, and on which the profit of the year must depend, is an eye-opener, good for all cultivators. Therefore we exhort for the hundredth time, with all long-suffering and patience, grow your own seed and gather it in due season, label it with date and store it for next spring's use. Failing in this send to some reliable seedsman for a full assortment of whatever is lacking, and have it where you can put your hand on it by January 1,1883. It will pay large interest on the investment. Farm nnil (Jnrden Notes. It is said that sheep in orchards will annihilate the codling moth. A nail can be driven into hard wood successfully by dipping it into grease. It is conceded that crossing breeds of poultry promotes laying, and gives better results in hatching. Many of the ills arising from eating too much green clover might be avoided by not turning in the stock while the grass is wet. Farmers should be cautious in destroying unknown insects, as they ouen turn out to ue Kinas mat prey on those that injure crops. Sunflower seed given to a horse at each morning and night feed will keep him in good spirits and give his hair a sleek appearance. So says the National Farmer. A gallon of milk is said to have a food value equal to two pounds of beef. But farmers sell milk for ten or twelve cents a gallon, and- buy beef at twenty-live and thirty cents per pound. A badly worn or broken-down farm implement of any kind is a bad investment. The loss of time from stoppage when work should be hurried is usually more expensive than the money co3t of repairs. ?T. W. Sanborn, of Xew Hampshire, finds as the uniform result of many trials that coarse foods and grain make a more economical fodder than good hay, and he therefore recommends the cultivation of an increased area in howl crops. Do not forget to give charcoal liberally to hogs. When pigs are confined to corn diet they are apt to suffer from a disordered stomach, which is relieved by charcoal. An occasional handful of wood ashes and sulphur will also be found beneficial. Store a quantity of road dust in barrels to be used as dust baths for the poultry in winter. It is absolutely necessary to their health, cleansing their skin and feathers from vermin and impurities. Powdered sulphur mixed' with the dust will also aid in L'reeing them from lice. Quite a novel way of keeping ants 3ut of beehives is the following, and it will doubtless do it. Set the hives or benches on which they rest on legs and place eacii leg in a xin vessel niieii with water. No trees or bushes should be allowed to come in contact with the lives, lest the ants get to them that way. By vaporizing two quarts of tobacco juice over a slow fire, Baron Rothschild's gardener at Paris, Mons. Boizard, destroys all the troublesome insects that may be contained in the liothouse in which the operation is performed. He considers the remedy infallible, and says it rarely injures the tenderest plants. Potash as a manure for potato crops should be applied before planting and thoroughly mixed with the soil, because, according to Y. T. Magerstein, the tubers require potassium most in the early stage of their growth, and a later application of the potash manures has but little influence on the increase of reserve matter. Milk fever is produced by any cause that interferes with the condition of the cow after calving. Nervous excitement, exposure or undue exercise is sufficient to bring on an attack and recovery is rare. The. safest treatment is to place the cow in a quiet, retired place a day or two before calving, nursing her well, and until the calf is x week old. In the anxiety to secure the largest yields of fodder corn' and other ensiiageable products there is danger that quantity shall be gained at the expense r.C rnt.rA.i.? 4.-x 4 ji ^utility. xwciitj tu iui vy tuns jjci Ficre cannot be grown as rich in nutritive value per ton as where the yield is smaller. In a rainy season any forage grown must be proportionally less nutritious than where more sunlight prevails. W. C. Latta described at one of the farmers' institutes in Michigan the following method for making straight rows in gardens : The marker may be three or six feet wide, with teeth nine inches apart on one side and a foot on the other. Stretch a rope tight where you want the lirst row, and draw the marker with one tooth constantly touching the rope. The whole is thus marked successively by running the first tooth in the last mark. Rows both ways may be made by crossing those lines at right angles in the same way and sill is rapidly performed. Iteclpe?. Citkon Pudding.?Mix one quart of cream with three spoonfuls of Hour, one-half pound of flour, one-half pound of citron peel, yolk of six eggs and a little nutmeg. Bake in teacups in a quick oven. Milk Toast.?Toast slices of bread very quickly and dip each slice into nearly boiling nnlk ;is soon as toasted, then spread with butter which has been melted to soften it. This toast must be served very hot and eaten at once, when it is delicious. Breakfast Rolls.?A cupful sweet milk, a heaping cupful flour, a piece of butter rubbed into it the size of a walnut; heat gem pans very hot, pour in the batter, let them stand a few minutes ; set in a very hot oven and serve as soon as they are done. Cheese Scallops.?Soak a small teacupful of stale breadcrumbs in fresh milk; beat into this one large egg, a teaspoonful of melted butter and three ounces of grated cheese; pepper and salt to taste. Strew sifted crumbs jver the top and bake till it is of a delicate brown. Gkape Jelly.?Grapes that are too coarse or acid for table use make very good jelly, only have them firm, sound and ripe. Tick grapes from the stem, wash them in cold water, drain the water from them, and put them in a stone jar; place the jar in a pot of _ . 11 l .1 i-.i. i ?!i ..l i:i com wilier, aim icl 11 uon sieauuy until the grape skins are loose. Take off the skins, saving all the juice?the skins will darken the jelly anil make it slightly astringent. Boil the pulps once again, and pour all into a flannel bag and squeeze through; measure your juice and allow a pound of lump sugar for every pint of juice. Mix anil boil steadily, but not too quickly, until it will jelly, when you try on a saucer. Put up in small glasses, which you wet first in cold water. Over the top of each glass place a piece of paper; tie up closely and keep in a cool place. Ilouneliold Hint*. . Ink Stains.?Ink stains can be removed from a carpet by freely pouring milk on the place, and leaving it to soak in for a time, then rub it so as to remove all ink, and scoop up remaining milk with a spoon; repeat the process with more milk if necessary; then wash it off completely with clean cold water, and wipe it dry with cloths. If this is done when the .ink is wet the milk takes all stain out of woolen materials instantly; but when it has dried a.little time is required. Jelly for tiie Sick.?Kice jelly for a sick person is very nourishing, and is very easily made. Mix two heaping teaspoonfuls of rice Hour with enough cold water to make a thin paste ; add a cupful of boiling water, putting it in gradually; then let it boil until it is transparent. When you take it from the stove sweeten and flavor it. If it is for a fever patient, flavor "with lemon juice; if for one with summer complaint, put a stick of cinnamon in it while it is boiling. To Remove Ink Spots?When ink spots occur on dyed or printed fabrics it becomes a question whether the means employed to remove the ink will not remove the color as well. A German authority recommends the use of phosphate of soda in such cases. The goods are moistened with warm water and rubbed with the phosphate, and then covered with a thin layer of tallow. The spot thus prepared is next washed thoroughly in moderately warm water containing some of the same salt. If the ink is not entirely removed the first time the operation is repeated. The Virtues of Coffee. The action of coffee is directed chiefly to the nervous system. It produces a warming, cordial impression on the stomach, quickly followed by a diffused, agreeable and nervous excitement, which extends itself to the pnroVirnl rrivincr riep tr? in. creased vigor of imagination and intellect, without any subsequent confusion or stupor such as is characteristic of narcotics. Coffee contains essential principles of nutrition far exceeding in importance its exhilarating properties, and is one of the most desirable articles for sustaining the system in certain prostrating, diseases. As compared with the nutrition to be derived from the best of spups, coffee has decidedly the advantage, and is to be preferred in many instances. The medicinal effects of coffee are very great. In intermittent fever it has been used by eminent physicians with the happiest effects in cutting short the attack, and, if properly managed, is better in many cases than the sulphate of quinine. In that low state of intermittent as found on the banks of the Mississippi river and other malarial districts, accompanied with enlarged spleen and torpid liver, when judiciously administered it is one of the surest remedies. In yellow fever it has been used by physicians, and with some it is their main reliance after other necessary remedies have been administered ; it retains tissue change, and thus becomes a conservator of force in that state in which the nervous system tends to collapse because the blood has become impure ; it sustains the nervous power until the depuration and reor ganization of the blood are accom plished, and has the advantage over other stimulants in inducing no injurious secondary effects. In spasmodic asthma its utility is well established, as in whooping-cough, stupor, lethargy and such troubles. In hysterical attacks, for which, in many cases, a physician can form no diagnosis, coffee is a great help. Coffee is opposed to*malaria, to all noxious vapors. As a disinfectant it has wonderful powers. As an instantaneous deodorizer it has no equal for the sickroom, as all exhalations are immediately neutralized by simply passing a chafing dish with burning coffee grains through the room. It may be urged that an article possessing such powers and capacity for such energetic action must be injurious as an article of diet of habitual employment, and not without deleterious properties; but no corresponding nervous disarrangements have been observed after its effects have disappeared, as are seen in narcotics and other stimulants. The action imparted to the nerves is natural and healthy. Habitual coffeedrinkers generally enjoy good health. Some of the oldest people have used coffee from earliest infancy without feeling any depressing reaction, such as is produced by alcoholic stimulants. ?Philadelphia Times. A Pack of Wild Dogs In India. A tiger had killed one of my cart bullocks while he was grazing in the jungle within half a mile of camp. In my absence they h;id put up a machan on a tree near the carcase, but they must have made so much noise that the tiger was frightened, and had left that part of the jungle; for, though I rode down to the place on my pony and sat over the kill till dark, no tiger appeared. I was well repaid, however, for going, for 1 was favored with a very interesting sight. The sun was getting low, everything was quiet in the thick jungle round, and I was thinking about moving homeward when a peacock behind me called, and I hoped it was the tiger returning for his evening meal. A few seconds afterward a rustle on the leaves followed; and yet, though I strained my eyes, I could see nothing. Suddenly, stealing along, with their noses up, drinking in the delicious fragrance which came from the dead bullock, down wind, I saw a small pack of wild (logs, seven in all. Tlieir bright ruious color h;ul no doubt made the peacock, who must have seen one of them, think it was his enemy, the tiger. They circled quietly round the glade where the kill was lying, as though suspicious of a trap, but finally they seemed to make up their minds that there was nothing to fear, and, led on by the largest of the pack, a fine fellow with a large bushy tail, they crept up to the carcase in Indian file. One good look to see if the coast was clear, and they rushed in to the unclean feast. It was now that they did what I have never read of wild dogs, or indeed of any other wild animals doing. Only three of the party commenced feeding. The other four, as if it were only part of their usual routine, trotted off into the jungle, and, during the whole time their friends were feeding, they were engaged in a ceaseless patrol of the adjoining neighborhood, crossing and recrossing each other at a distance of from eighty to 100 yards from the kill. Presently one of the three seemed to have taken the edge off his appetite, for he left the bullock, rolled and rubbed his nose in the grass, and, then trotting off on his tour of duty," relieved the nearest vidette, who ran in to enjoy the carrion. And so in turn each one got his share, no doubt enjoying the feast the more from the knowledge that friendly sentinels were on the alert and that he would get timely warning of any approaching danger. Their system of outpost duty is, in fact, unrivaled, and our best light infantry might with advantage have taken a lesson from them.?London Field. Saving a Princc. There was a time when the loca I monnara of Urirrllfon llfwl milrfll IllOJLS I , . antness about them corresponding with the primitive simplicity of the place. When Miles (or Smoaker, as the Prince of "Wales, and therefore everybody, | called him) was chief bathing man, he | once saw his royal highness swimming too far, as Miles thought, out at sea. Miles hailed " Mr. Prince" to come back. The prince struck further out. Thereupon Smoaker dashed in after him and brought his royal highness back by the ear, exclaiming as he thus ! towed the princely freight, "I aren't a-goen to let the king hang me for letten the Prince of Wales drown hisself: not I, to please nobbudy, I can tell 'e." The prince forgave the act in consideration of its motive. In remembrance of it he founded the Smoaker stokes; and when they were first run for in 1806 The True Bomance of Pocahontas, From her first meeting with Smith she Decame devotedly attached to the English, and rendered the settlers many services. She often secured supplies lor uiem, ana inueea seems 10 i have haunted the fort, utterly naked as she was, after the manner of little girls among her people, who wore no clothes and showed no modesty until they were twelve or thirteen years of age, at which time they put on a deerskin apron, and were very careful not to he seen without it, The agile little barbarian would persuade the English lads to make wheels of themselves by turning upon their hands and feet, whereupon she would follow them, wheeling as they did, all through the fort. Her real name was Matoax ; but, by order of Powhatan, this was carefully concealed from the whites, lest by their supernatural enchantments they should work her some harm. When Richard "Wyffin was sent from Jamestown to apprise the endangered Captain Smith, environed by foes among Powhatan's peupie, ui uie ueaui 01 nis deputy, mr. Scrivener, and his ten companions, by drowning, Pocahontas hid him, misdirected those who sought him, and, by extraordinary bribes and maneuvers, brought him safely to Smith after three days' travel in the midst of extreme peril. So, also, when Ratcliffe was cut off with thirty men, she saved the lad Spilman, who was then living with Powhatan, and sent him to the Potomacs. But the mos touching story of all precedes in order of time the other two. In the same difficult adventure among Pow- : hatan's people, in which Captain Smith ; was engaged when Scrivener was drowned, the treacherous chief had arranged to surprise Smith at supper, i and cut off the whole party, when Pocahontas, the "dearest jewel and daughter " of the aged chief, " in that dark night came through the irksome 1 woods" to warn the captain of Pow- : hatan's design. Captain Smith offered : to repay her kindness with such trinkets : as the heart of an Indian maiden delights in; "but, with the tears running down her cheeks, she said she durst not be seen to have any, for, if Pow- . ..U...1J 1 J J- -1- - ? 1 A. uauiu ouuuiu. hiiuw sue were uut dead; and so she ran away by herself as she came." In 1613 Pocahontas was among the I Potomac Indians. Captain Argall, a : man of much shrewdness and execu- , tive force, but infamous for his dis- : honest practices, happened to be trad- j ing in the river at that time. He ; quickly saw the advantage the English , would gain in negotiations with Pow- j hatan for the return of the white , prisoners held by him, if he could secure . so valuable a hostage as the chief's | daughter. With a copper kettle he j bribed Japazaws, the chief with whom , she was staying, to entice her on board i the vessel, where he detained her, much . to the sorrow of the daughter of ! the wilderness, whose life hitherto , had been as free as that of the wild creatures of the woods. To James town, where she had frolicked asachild, , and whither she had so often come as a friend with food, she was now carried as an enemy and a prisoner. She had > refused to enter the town since the de- ( parture of Captain Smith. This transaction, not very creditable to the gratitude of the English, ac complished its purpose in causing ; Powhatan to return the white men , held in slavery by him, with the least useful of tlte stolen arms. But he still contrived to evade some of the demands of the English, who therefor retained his daughter until the affair took a new turn. John Kolfe, who seems to . have been a widower, became enamored of Pocahontas, no w growing to womanhood, and wrote a formal letter to Sir Thomas Dale, proposing to convert her to Christianity and marry her, which pleased the governor, as tending to promote peace with the Indians, and was likewise acceptable to Powhatan. The chief sent an old uncle of Pocahontas and two of her brothers to witness the marriage. This marriage brought about peace during the life of Powhatan, who, on one occasion at least, sent a present of buckskins to his daughter and her husband. A free intermingling of the two races took place, and Englishmen were accustomed to hire Indians to live in their houses and hunt for them. This amity lasted eight year?. In 1616, more than two years after their marriage, Rolfe and Pocahontas went to England with Sir Thomas Dale. Powhatan sent some Indians with his daughter, one of whom was commissioned to count the number of the English. The arrival of the Lady Rebecca, as Pocahontas was called after her baptism, produced a great sensation. She was received by the king and many distinguished people, went to see a play, and, by help of her natural quick wit, bore herself very well. But it became necessary to desist from calling her the wife of John Rolfe, for the king was very jealous, and it was seriously debated in the privy council whether, by marrying the daughter of a foreign potentate without the king's consent, Rolfe had not committed treason. The climate of London, and perhaps also the uncongenial habits of civilization, affected Pocahontas very unfavorably, and she was taken to Brentford, where Smith, then busy with his preparations to sail for Xew England, visited her. In the successful efforts of Rolfe and others to win her to the Christian faith and to marriage, they had not scrupled to deceive her, by telling her that Captain Smit^i was dead, probably because tliey knew she would not marry another white man while she believed that great warrier alive. When, therefore she saw the " brave" who had been the object of her maidenly admiration, she turned her face away and refused to speak for the space of two or three hours. When she diil, it was to claim the privilege of calling him father, which Smith granted only after importunity, afraid, perhaps, of incurring the king's displeasure. Pocahontas wentto (iravesend to take ship for her returr to America, much against her will, for she had become weaned from her savage life and greatly attached to the English. At Gravesend she died of smallpox three years after her marriage, leaving one son, from whom some of the most prominent Virginia families trace their descent.?Edward Eyuleston, in the Century. Could Break Off. When a certain family on the Brush farm took a new cook last month it was specifically stated and understood that she was not to have any men hanging around the kitchen. She held to the agreement for three or four nights, ami then the family discovered that she had a beau. He came regularly every night after that, and three or four nights ago the colonel was at the back gate waiting ror mm. When the young man appeared, the colonel threw a whole iceberg into his tones as he inquired : " Well, sir, did you come here to spark V" " I did,'-* was the calm reply. "In love, are you V" " Yes, sir." "Who with?" "Sarah, the cook." j " Oh, I didn't know but you loved one of my daughters," sneered the colonel. " Xo, I don't at present," said the man as he seemed to catch a sudden idea, " but the thing hasn't gone so far with Sarah but what I might break off in case you had something better upstairs for me!" Sarah doesn't work there any more, FACTS AND COMMENTS. A little incident of Hungarian criminal procedure shows that after all torture is not so obsolete as was supposed. The facts are stated by a legal : adviser of the prisoners in a memorial to the minister, and they show how . agreeably a commissary of police in ' Hungary combines business and amuse- , ment. His business being to extract confessions, the criminal is hung up , by his feet, or if a woman, is suspended over the fire, when the required information is at once communicated. All < this is forbidden by the law of the country, but still it goes on. In regard to the manner in which the Chinese are sweeping California waters of fish, the San Francisco Bulletin says: A walk of observation ] tnrougu umnatown in tnis ciiy wiii disclose the fact that fish of all kinds j are taken in nets and afterward dried for both Chinese home and foreign con- i sumption, that range from one-half inch to three inches in length by an i eighth of an inch to one-half an inch around the largest part of the body. They are to be seen, day in and day out, after being dried,, in large baskets, ready for shipment or consumption, at every fishstand of the Chinese. The fish are not confined to any distinct species, but are of innumerable classes. The Duke de Santona, a Spanish . grandee of the first class, has just died at Madrid, leaving an enormous for- 5 tune to his only daughter. He was of ^ obscure Cuban birth, and once followed the hatter's trade. At this he a acquired great wealth and was ever ^ ready to spend large sums in behalf of 1 the Alphonist party in all political 1 contests, even while Alphonso was yet a mere cadet at the military academy, i with only the slimmest chance of ever i: reachin? the throne. So, when at last t the young prince did become king, he 1 remembered gratefully the devoted follower who had rendered him such sig- a nal services. He gave him opportuni- e ties of largely increasing his fortune, s made him Duke de Santona, and, at s his death, occupied a place among the chief mourners. Consumption has hitherto been re- ? garded as a disease of the lungs, which j: cannot be reached directly except by z inhalation, and the value of that form of medication is problematical. A- ; new theory of the disease, called the Salisbury theory, makes it one of un- [ healthy alimentation. According to ^ this view, it is the fermenting of food t in the stomach which furnishes to the circulation noxious material that affects the lungs on reaching those organs. Granting the truth of the s theory, we shall have to con- c rider consumption as curable. All I that needs to be done is to use only * such food as will not ferment in the k stomach, and to clean out that organ occasionally by a judicious use of warm t water, with simple tonics before meals 1 a ni/I f Kn lira nvAnnoo A Wflolr * b\J CUU IIIC Ul^COblYC j/XUUCOOi JX H vuu solution of ferric per sulphate is recom- i mended for inhalation to check hemor- f rhage in the severe stage of the disease. * The idea is well worthy the attention of the many who are supposed to be in t the initial stages of consumption. It i would be an inestimable boon if it be i the means of saving them, to say < nothing of the many others whose cases s are otherwise hopeless. j William F. Cody, better known as j " Buffalo Bill," believes that General j Custer killed himself, when he saw t that death was inevitable, in preference f to being killed by the Indians. He s 41?a f/ioonn fnr fVllQ llA- , jjl VCO 1/ilU 1U11U ?? Xiig X ^(lOVll X.V/1 VAA AIJ MV ^ lief: " The Indians will not mutilate a body which they find dead, and General Custer's was the only one that was not scalped :uid otherwise cut to pieces or burned. My impression is that he, after seeing all his command shot down, and that he himself must also go, turned and took his own life rather than be killed by the savages. I was in General Crook's command that soon after arrived upon the scene, and although Custer went into the fight r with seven companies, and had 300 j men killed, I am satisfied he would j never have given the Indians battle f had he not thought reinforcements , were near at hand. Some time after ( the engagement an Indian warrior told me that Custer was the last man to fall, ancl killed himself. Had Custer been given entire command of the troops he would have wliipped the Indians instead of being crushed by them. They did not recognize Custer after he was shot, as he had a few months previous cut off his long hair." A Romantic Story. An Innsbruck (Germany) correspondent of the Boston Advertiser tells this story: In the Silver chapel is the tomb and marble eftigy of that beautiful woman, Philippina Weiser, whose photograph you see in all the shop windows of Innsbruck. Her eyes were divine, it is said, dark blue, her hair golden chestnut, and the skin so transparent that the "red wine could be seen as it ran down the lovely throat." In the photograph her beautiful face rises up like a lovely flower out of a high ruff, a superb jeweled collar with pendant jewels nimn about the hicrh-moimtintf neck of the rich dark velvetfrobe.the hair '' is parted and rolled back from a high, broad, intelligent forehead that has ' nothing Greek about it, but is a clear, j good, Anglo-Saxon brow; on the head is a net-cap made of smsdl gold rosettes, 1 with pearls and a jeweled border around it. The arch of the delicate eyebrows is perfect; the eyes have a bewitching ' expression that is both courageous and pleasing ; she had a shapely nose, a lovely mouth and chin, and an expression of dignity, refinement and gentle- . ness; periect wuiu<iuy luicnutgo > characterize this pictured semblance of t a woman who was the most beautiful of i her day, and whose romantic history has inspired many a poet and dramatist. She was the daughter of a rich Augsburg banker. Ferdinand, nephew of Charles V., fell madly in love with her, and they were married secretly. She was the mother of two sons, whose portraits you can see at Schloss Ambras, the charming castle on the Mittelgebirge mountain slopes, a short distance from Innsbruck, where Fhilippina and Ferdinand spent their long, happy married life. The Emperor Ferdinand was naturally very angry at this marriage, but during one of his visits to Innsbruck the lovely woman came with her two young boys and begged him to forgive her. History tells a pretty, touching story,how lie had only to look at Fhilippina to justify his son. When Ferdinand the emperor ?! ? lmw l.uct !.ml innst. now uit*u rmc iuot uti wv.iw <?iiv. rerful friend. Her mother-in-law wsus forever taunting her. So one morning the poor woman lay down in her bathtub and drowned herself, in order that her dear husband might marry a royal wife. You can see the bath-room at Schloss Ambras, but the custode denies the legend, I am happy to say, and I am unwilling to believe it. Her husband, the Count of Tyrol, mourned her loss. Tradition says he was frantic with grief, and built the beautiful Silberne chapel, where each lie buried. True, he married again only two years after her death, and his second wife was of his own rank, the daughter of Duke William, of Mantua; but he never lived again at Schloss Ambras. An exchange acknowledges the receipt of two books called "Matrimony" and " Heaps of Money" from Harper & Brothers. The publishers were very thoughtful. When a man indulges in " Matrimony" he feels the need of " Heaps of Money."?Norris After a While. JH There is a strange, sweet solace in the thought ' That all the woes we suffer here below May,* as a dark and hideous garment wrought For as to wear, whether we will or no H Be cast aside, with a relieving smile, -jB After a little while. , B No mortal roaming but hath certain ond; Though far unto the ocean-spaces gray fl We sail and sail, without a chart for friend, Above the ffky-line, faint and far away Fhere looms at last the one enchanted isle After a little while. . 3h, when our cares come thronging thic With more of anguish than the heart can rhough friends desert, and, as the heedless blast, . Zljm Even love pass by us with a stony stare, >9 Let us withdraw into some ruined pile, Or lonely forest aisle. ' ^9| Vnd contemplate the never-ceasing chunge ... ."JjBB Whereby the processes of God are wrought ftijSH Lnd from our petty lives our souls estrange ' Till, bathed in currents of exalted thought, rVe feel the rest that must our cares beguile, . ' After a little while. 'fl ?Nathan D. Urner HUMOR OF THE DAY. ? -m To get up a dinner of great variety -|?l * looks should have a wide range. _ >1^9 Corn is said to be late in ripening, )ut when a fellow treads on your foot '4mm rou will find your corn is ripe, and 'ell oh ! 9 "Where are the men of 76?' shrieks in excited exchange. Oh, to Halifax /IwW vith the men of seventy-six. Give ' Pf is the women of twenty-three.? Taiokeye. I Who has any right to sneer at the nventive genius of woman when one n New York has discovered a process ?y which cat skin can be made to look ''fl ike seal ??Detroit Free Press. fl Typhoid fever is now the fashicifa- , JB 3 ible disease. Having it is prima facie ividence that you are in easy circumtances and passed the season at a j ummer resort.?Philadelphia News. v'jaH3 A man never realizes the littleness '-fl if his own abilities so much as when, . |I iter blacking his own boots, lie is greeted by the first boy he meets with AJ he customary " Shine ?"?Lowell Citien. Several of our exchanges are de- "^Bl noting considerable space to the im- v "3 >ortance of " cooking girls." It's no "/ gal ise. "We don't want them cooked. -^91 Che raw damsel is good enough for is.?Hartford Timex. Mrs. Partington honored us with a ^ I :all this morning. She is looking well, "-ffijfl ind she says she is like the windows - \ I >f a renovated house?all the old y&m ;1 )anes are out of Iter, and the pneu- > natics are things of the past.?Boston " Pa, I'll be right sorry when you -$;.'sSS] jet well," said a little Austin boy to lis sick parent. ""Why, my son?" J 4 Because I won't get any more empty J nedicine bottles to sell. I sell 'em for ive cents apiece to the drug store."? ?i " Few men are born to rule," and ;hat is what the bookkeeper thinks ^ >1 ,vhen he comes in after lunch and inds the old man lias been trying to Tj ;lose an account on the ledger with a '?] pen auu a luiw.? Boston Bulletin. J>1 In the German army more attention 3 being paid to the science of aeroitatics, and officers are being trained ^jjaH .0 make balloon ascensions. This will it them to come to this country and tmuse the population on the Fourth >f July.?Boston Post. A New York man says he keeps ;hops and steaks for several days in "18 ,he hottest weather by burying them . n meal. Meal is a good thing in any veather for steaks and chops. We nore particularly refer just now to the ' norningmeal.?Banbury News. A Story of the Swiss Minister. -W A Washington correspondent writes: ' rhe following incident is related of*' "tWSH'' Emil Frey, the new Swiss minister lere, who was a captain in the Eightyf-^WSHM second Illinois volunteers during the ~ war. The new Swiss minister re- . * gently arrived in this city. Mr. Emil v '--.-atMb Frey was confined in Libby prison at } ma fimo if-, will hp remembered, as hostage for the Confederate Captain W. J. Gordon, condemned to de<*th by a Federal court martial. President Lin* -0 2oln, upon being so informed, stayed the execution of Gordon, and the then Captain Frey, of the Eighty-second , t ';3a Illinois volunteers, now the first minister plenipotentiary from Swito- - srland to the United States, virtually saved Gordon's life, who was ioon afterward sent to Richmond by a lag of truce, and in return Captain , Frey was released. This morning . r-k Captain Gordon, who is sojourning in +..$ ;his city, called on Minister Frey, arid ;he two saw each other for the first ;ime. As may be well supposed the . ^ neeiing was highly interesting to both, md to all who chanced to be preseftt. rhere was a mutal interchange of ex- ' * Vi periences during the prison life of each, md a recital of the fearful suspense. tioth were subjected to for a time. . Tliey separated, evidently highly grati-. 'g \ < ied to have personally met each other ' 1 ifter an interval of seventeen years; *. . j w nen the life of one depended on that "* :"''h )f the other, and under circumstances * '* jo changed. Mr. Frey on his return ;o Switzerland was compelled to^relaturalize himself, which he did, to secome president of the Swiss council. tie is also major-general in the Swiss irmy. Telegraphic Cable Incidents.' Thg work in the operating room at Heart's Content, X. F., has brought Dut a number of curious facts about cables and cable operating. For in- ' stance, Xew York city sends and receives about two-thirds of all the cable : * ?i nv,JJo_ business OI inc umitJU olulcs. i iu?r delphia comes next, tlien Chicago; wlme some of the smaller Southern cities, with their messages relating to cotton sales, outrank more Northern cities like Boston, Baltimore, St. Louis . -.ii or Cincinnati. It amazes the telegraphers there to tell them of the importance of places like Xew Ilaven, Albany, Troy or Buffalo, from which the cable business is so small that in ''it. the Heart's Content station they are supposed to be little towns. The present price of a message is lifty cents a word. Yet, a few years ago, when competition reduced the rate to twelve * cents, the increase in the number of cable messages was relatively very small But as the competition was comparatively brief, the test of cheap rates can scarcely be called a fair one. As showing the importance of choosing steady men in cable work, the example is cited of a subordinate at Valencia charged with the duty of making certain complex connections with tho wires there. One day he became intoxicated, and, as no one knew the intricate connections, communication between two continents was well-nigh stopped for a large part of a day until a drunkard could recover from his spree. Near Aschaffenburg, in Bavaria, is a small community which enjoys an ^ envious prosperity. It is the owner of a rich clay pit which yields so large an income as to obviate the necessity of imposing commercial taxes, and also enables the selectmen to pay 100 marks every year to each adult inhabitant. Some years ago, when the town built a bridge across the Main that cost 200,000 marks, there were ^ given to each adult ten marks, and to each school-child fifty pfennigs on the . JbSi day the bridge formally opened. . i - -1.4,