Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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THOS. 1 ADAMS. PROPRIETOR. EDGEE?ELD, S. C., THURSDAY, APRIL 7, 1892. VOL. LVII. NO. 13. J? TIS LOVE THAT MAKES THE WORLD CO ROUND.'* A thousand years ago, or more, . \ A maiden and a you th Discovered for themselves anew . An old, yet living truth;- '. For through their love these lovers found .Twas love that made the world go round, As youths i .nd maidens had before A thousand years ago and mere. A tlioosand years from now, or more, A youth will know the bliss , Of gazing into eyes that flash The love-Ugh ; baokto his; And send the world for many a day A-spinnlng gayly on its way, 'jM A-spinning faster than before, ? - Another thousand years, or more. - And, Love, have you and I not found Tis love that makos the world go round? -Gustav Xobbe, in Harper's Weekly. THE END OF IT ALL. HAT'?the last word, is it?" It was Bale who asked the question. He had screwed his courage to the sticking point at last. "That's the last word," said Selina, 'and to my mind, Mr. Tolley, it's a bit of a pity it ever went so far." "As how?" said Bale. He was very gloomy and quiet, and unlike himself and she had ceased to feel afraid of him. "In this wise j Mr, Tolley," she an* swered; "I never chose your com pany,'and I never liked it, ? look on what you've said to me as a liberty. And I defy you to say I aver showed you a sign of encouragement to it." "That's true enough," said Bale gravely, and without touch of irony. "I'll do you that much credit. You've made it pretty clear as you disliked me from the beginning." "And that," the girl retorted, "is why I look on what you've said in the light of a liberty, Mi*. Tolley." "It won't be repeated," Bale an swered. "Good night!" He lingered as if in expectation of an answer, but the girl turned away without a word. The garden gate clicked behind her, and Bale was left standing in the roadway. . "Well," he said to himself, "it's what I looked for, and it fits _my merits. ' ' He pilled a handful of loose ''Kft?iftcket Then, out a movement, he filled his pipe, lit it, and walked away, The girl meanwhile had reached the cottage kitchen. She took a candle stick from the high chimxteypiece, and set it on the table with an angry emphasis. She stirred the waning fire with the same petulance, and, having thrust a thin sliver or two of wood between the bars, she knelt down before the grate and fanned the embers with her apron. When they blazed she drew out one of th? sticks and lit the candie. As the wick be gan to burn she looked up and gave a faint cry at the sight of an unexpected figure in the room. "Mother!" she said, with a hand upon her heart. "How you frightened me!" "Hast no cause to be afraid o' me, wench," her mother answered. "So Bale's got the saok, has he?" "Got the sack?" Selina echoed. "No. He was never in my service." "He never got any wage?, poor lad!" said the cid woman. "That's another matter, however. Ia your service he has been this three year." "Well," returned Selina, "I never had any truck with him, and J never wanted any. And now, if 'that's what he wanted to know, he knows it." "Yes," said the old woman, knitting away with the same tranquillity, "you let him know it." "Why, mother," cried tho girl, "what would you have me dc? Did you expect me to say 'Yes!' to him?" "No, my dear. It would hf.' given me a rare sore heart to hear in. But I've known him since the day he was born, and I've been sorry for him many time. He's a nobody's child, poor Bale is. He was bred on charity, and he was made to feel it. He's gone wrong, my dear, like a good many more, because he'd hardly ever the chance to go right ; but there was the makin's of a fine man in him. You was quite right to say him nay, but I could wish as you'd been gentl e with him." - Selina lit a second candle and sat down boside it with her sewing. "His father was a travelin' conjur or," sai* the old woman, after a long pause. "I saw him once alive, anda finer figure of a man I never saw. I helped to lay him out, poor fellow, that same night. He broke his back bone with a cannon ball doin' some juggler's trick with it. They said at the time he was in liquor, and he'd no right to do a dangerous thing like that at such a time. He'd built a bit qf a tent across the road there on the waste ground, and there was the wife ?-waiting her confinement. The child wasn't born half an hour when some blundens' idiot told her the news. That killed the mother. Then poor Tolley's wife took in the child and kept it, and we all helped a blt; and he growed up to be called Tolley. And as if he hadn't had misfortune enough to begin life with, old Tolley must needs go an' christen the poor little cree tur' by his own name of Balaam, as'd been a laughing stock for the whole o' Castle Barfield for 'ears an' 'ears. ' He learned himself to read.'an' write without any help as iver I heerd on. He was put to work at the pit bank by the time he was eight 'ears old, and he lerned himself the engine drivin' by looking at the engine an' watohin' the chaps at work at it. Poor Bale!" A bright drop or two fell from the girl's eyes and glistened on the stuff she was sewing. In the meantime, Bale, the rejected, had walked down into the valley, had lingered for a while at the forge gate? to stare in at the white-hot, half-naked figures that dragged the bloom from the surface, and ran it on its iron trolley to th 3 steam-hammer, and had waited to'see it beaten from its incan descent heat to a dull red glow. "It takes good stuff to abide that kind of handling," said Bale. "The good stuff's :he better for it. But it's no use trying it on slag. As a matter of fact, you can't have the good stuff without it, bat it's a pity to treat all sorts alike." * 'He was making a parable of the matter in his own mind, and he walked on thinking of it in a sore-hearted and rather empty-headed fashion. He passed the frowsy town and came out on the road to Quarrymoor, with its almost instar.t hint of country odors in the darkened air. It was late spring weather, almost summer, and the smoke voil hung high and thin. The iitars shone through it vaguely, and a dew was filling. He walked on for an hour, clean into the country, not knowing or caring where his feet led him, and suddenly he was aware that the moo a had risen, broad and full, and that a nightingale was sing ing. "Why, Bale, old lad!" a cheery voice called oat. "What brings you here?" ' . "There's a nightingale in the copi?e yonder, " said Bale.. ' 'Listen ! ' ' They kept idlenoe for a minute, and the bird's song, which had been checked at the sound of the footsteps, began again. The new-comer fidgetted a little, and after a minute or two said: "It's a pretty music enough. But who'd ha' thought of your caring for it, Bale? Going home again?" "Yes,"" said B&le. "At least-I don't know ab o at home. I shall drop in at the Sir Ferdinand." "Ah!" cried thc other, ^striding on again with Bale at his side, "I should think that was more in your line." "Well, yes," <aid Bale, "I suppose it is. Shall we set oursslves to walk toward a gla:,sr" "Why, no," said his companion. "Not to-night. I've better work on hand, You've always been a trust ?worthy sort of chap in' a "way, Bale. You can keep a secret?" "I've kept one or two," Bale ans wered. "Whj," said the other. "The secret's this, Bale. I'm going to get married." "Oh!" said Bale. "You've squared the old lady, have you?" "Yes. I've squared the old lady, and Fm off now to the top of Hill Road, my lad, to carry the news to the young 'un." "The young lady?" said Bale. "The young lady," said his com panion. "She's been hearted this Six monthi old woman's oppositioi up above a bit when 11 to her. And look here You and me have alway one for another.There ir station .account. Have I, now? I?" * "No," cried Bale; "you never hpve." "When a man's married," baid the other, "he's got to let his wife have something of a say about the company he keeps. Now, sometimes you are a most extraordinary racketty chap, Bale. You know you are. Selina's got a bit of a down on you, old lad." "Don't you trouble about me, George," said Bale. "I know what Miss Rice thinks about me, and I know what I think about Miss Bice. We're never likely to trouble each other." "Why'.'" said the lucky lover, check ing his walk suddenly and facing round. "What do you think about Miss Bice?" "Oh!' cried Bale, "don't let's have any misunderstanding. I've the very highest opinion of Miss Bice. She's made up her mind that I'm a wastrel, and she's let me see her opinion. She's quite right, George-quite right. I am a wastrel. I'm no fit society for her, and if, as a married woman, she makes up her mind as I'm no fit com panion for her husband, why, all I say is, her will be cone. I shall never think the worse of her. It's a woman's business to keep her own man straight. Well, here's the Sir Ferdinand. Good night, George, and good luck." "Not yet," retarned George. "We haven't got to the bottom of what I wanted. Try and be a^'t steady, Bale. That'll bring Selina round; and I'd like to see an old chum at the fireside now and then. I don't want to lose you, Bale." "Oh, well! We'll talk ? that an other time. Neither Miss Rice, as she is, nor Mrs. Truman, as she will be, wants me about her. Good night, George. We shall meet to-morrow." How Bale Tolley, who had gone to the bad this three years, went head long to the worse from that evening forward, is not worth telling, and yet was told in a thousand households. There was good choice of blackguard society in the neighborhood for any man who cared to seek it. Bale found the worse, and played the uncrowned king among it. His name grew to be a byword. Anxious parents warned their sons against him. Only the old woman who had sometimes "moth ered" him in his lonely and miserable childhood had ever a sympathetic thought about him. "Poor Bale!" she would say to her self, for she hardly dared say it to an ' other, Bale was so flagrantly a sinner. "He's got the very look of his father on him. It might be printed on his back and be no plainer reading. Ruined dare-devil. It's wrote large all over him. But he's a beautiful figure of a man to look at yet, an' if iver a child's heart was i' the right place, that child's was when he was a child." George Truman and Selina Rice were cried in church, but of this Bale knew nothing, for he did not mix with church-going people. But George and Selina were married, and that fact came to his hearing. Except Selina .nd her mother and Bale himself, no soul had an idea that it concerned him in the least. The married pair took up residence in their own house after a three days' trip, and George Truman went back to the office of the mining engineer who employed him. Bale drove his engines at the mine, the Three Crowns Yard; and a year went by. Then the two men met again, Bale in his laboring grime at the engines, and George in his more respectable working gear. "Hallo, IBale, old lad," said the lucky man, "how art? I've come to have a business look at things." "Going down?" asked Bale. 1 George nodded and looked about bim, rather evading Bale's eye than not, said an indifferent thing or two about the weather and so on, and went his way. "Ting!" said the little bell. Bala handled his levers, and watched the dial face. "I could smash him like an egg," said Bale, "and not a living creature would think it was anything but an ac cident." George's mind was in his work, and he had no guess of what was passing in thoughts of the man who at the in stant controlled his destinies. The descending skip swung to its stopping place like a feather. The married man stepped out and made his way along the wordings in pursuit of his own busi ness. The bachelor above ground folded his smeared arms across his chest, planted his back against an iron upright which ran from floor to ceiling, and pulled at his pipe, awaiting the next signal. "Here, you!" he shouted to the boy who passed the door. "What Jo you mean by letting all this cotton-waste lie about here? Clear it out." "AU right, gaffer, " said the boy. ? 'In a minute." "Ting!" said the little bell. Bale set down his pipe, and took the levers. The pipe fell over. When his im mediate task was finished he looked for it, and could not find it. He raked the cotton-waste here and there with his foot. No pipe. Bale cursed a lit tle to relieve his feelings. "Ting!" said the little bell, and he went back to his work. He swung the skip up, the careful eye seeking the dial every now and then. Being free once more, he began his search again. He kicked the oily waste savagely, and all at once, as if it had been a living thing, a flame broke out at him. He raced swiftly to the door and shouted "Fire!" "Ting! ting! ting! ting-a-lingle-ling-ling-ling!" The little bell was mad. "Shaft afire!" roared a voice from the side of the distant downcast "My God!" said Bale, and dashing back to the engine house, he fought wildly with the growing flames. . He stamped out the blazing waste, and turned again to his levers. Bound spun the shining wheels. Smooth and steady went piston and crank, round crept the hand on the dial. He looked behind him and the floor was smoul dering. "Fire here!" he shouted. "Engine house afire!" "Ting!" said the little bell. Th^rc were a hundred and fifty men below, I and he was their one helper. He I obeyed th? b?" --?.? ?> choked, blinded, i nea ucip a roar of voices. "Ting!" said the I inexorable bell. He held on to his post, fighting against death. Outside, men, formed in line, passed buckets from hand to hand, and the contents being : dashed upon the flames filled the room with scalding steam. Ho could not see the dial any longer, but he worked : by instinct, and the instinct never be trayed him once. . "Ting!" and the first stage of the cage was filled with : rescued men. "Ting!" and the sec ond stage was filled. "Ting!" and {he third stage was filled. Then he i tore her up like fire, checked her, coaxed her. stopped her to a foot, j "Ting" and "Ting" and "Ting" and j the three stages were empty, and that j batch of thirty was back to life again. ; Then he sent her down like n stone, ; and lived along tho plunge in his own mind until he felt she should bo there. Instinct probed true again by the bell's voice*. His body was in hell, but his soul j leaped with a passionate intoxication of revolt and mastery to defy its pains. The men outside dashed water on his burning clothes. They howled ap plause at him. Some among them wept as they cheered, and one went shrieking, with both hands writhing in the air, as if he himself were tor tured. It was all done at last, ""and there went up a cry of triumph terrible to hear. Bale reached tho open air charred, blackened, scarce human to look at, and as he fell into the nearest comrade's arms the roof of the engine house dropped in. They car ried him to the nearest cottage, and all that could be done for him was done. He was conscious to the end, and he made shift to ask for Selina She came, her mother with her. "I wanted you to know," said Bale. "I could't ha' gone through with it if your George hadn't been down." Selina stopped and kissed him, her tears raining on his face. "There, there!" said Bale. - "That's the ead of it all." God has made nothing stranger than mau, to be blackguard and hero, devil and angel in a breath.-New York Journal. A Father of KoyaltlcB. The oldest reigning sovereign in Eu rope-the King of Denmark, who is thirteen months older than Queen Vic toria^-is the oldest reigning sovereign in Europ j. Though the Queen's senior in years, he has not reigned much more than half as long; but that is longer than all the others, including King Leopold, who only succeeded to the throne of Belgium in 18G5-two years after Christian IX.'s accession. He has been a singularly tactful and prudent monarch, intensely beloved by his subjects, and carrying a weight in the counsels of Europe far greater than the mere size of the kingdum would justify. No family is so extensively allied with the Royal houses as his; the Emperor of Russia is his grandson, the King of Greece his son, the heir to the English throne his son-in-law. Source of (?ta Missouri. An explorer says that the Missouri's source is at the crest of the Rockies, 8000 feet above the sea level, just with in the boundary of Montana. The stream is two feet wide and two inches deep, its water coming from melted snow. This source is 4221 miles from the Gulf of Mexico and 2945 miles from its confluence with the Missis sippi, making the river the longest un broken c orront in the world. - '^?^W?*S*?MW^*HM^SIW?I?? UNCLE SM,S%ffiILEE, SIXTY YEARS OF CROWTH IN THE UNITED STAT?. Great as England is, the United Statot) Are Greater-In Population, Treal th, Manu actures, Railroads, Education and Pro ductive Power This Country Leads. The burden of tho Victorian jubilee song, says the New York World, ia the great growth of Great Britain at home and abroad during the sixty years of Victoria's reign. But, in the language of the Man in the Street, "there are others." Uncle Sam's jubilee, for instance, would be very much more impressive even than Queen Victoria's. The British Empire in 1897 includes a total area of 11,335,806 square miles and a population of 3&0, OOO, OW, using round figures. While a greafpart of this vast territory was acquired either ' .AMERICAN RAILROAD 1 OR ? ? by conquest, treaty or settlement, in the reigns of Victoria's predecessors, yet the population and development thereof have been accomplished mostly within the past sixty years. It is not the number of square miles that make a nation great, but the num ber and the quality of the men to;-the miles. In 1811 (the year of the first Vic torian census) the United Kingdom had 27,000,000 inhabitants. In 1891 it had nearly 38,000,000. It appears that the Queen is ruling to- '.ay over about 11,000,000 more subjects than ehe did in 1837. During the same period the United Kingdom has sent out about 9,000,000 surplus population, one -half of whom have come to the- United States. The actual increase in the number of the Quocn's white subjects at h'ome and abroad apoears to have been about 23,000,000. Sir Walter Basant?'.cst i *""4"%" H?Mittered over~the whole of aUU X Ci X1 iv?_, VNIT?P While the people who speak English under the British flag have been about doubling themselves, the people who speak that language under the Ameri can flag have multiplied four ana one third times. Putting it most gener ously for our British jubilee friends, we have been adding to our population twice as fast as they have .for the past. 6ixty years. Passing now to the compari son of wealth, there are no official figures available to show what the aggregate national wealth of the Unite 1 Kingdom was in 1837. But there are abundant later statistics to warrant tho state ment that, great as the growth of British commerce, manufactures, rail roads and the resulting total produc tion of wealth has been under Vic toria's rule, the contemporaneous creation of wealth in the United Stales has been much greater. Editor Stead, in the current Beview of Reviews, says that the wealth of t?e United Kingdom has been multiplisd four times since 1837. If he is cor rect, its valuation when the Quean was crowned must have been about $12,500,000,000. The census taken in 1840 show?d that the aggregate wealth of ?e United States was about $?,000,00?, 000, or an average of $410 per capia, As last computed, by the census bf 18 10, Ihe total wealth of this count y is #55,037,000,000. That is justaboit thirty-three per cent, greater than tie computed total of the wealth ol Great Britain. England's total wealth to-day is estimated hy her own famous statisti cian, Dr. Robert Giffen, at $50,175, 000,000. So she is behind the United S tates in the size of her pile by about $14,000,000,000. Uncle Sam's farm is worth more than John Bull's in the proportion of at least thirteen to ten. In the one ?item of real estate the valuation of this country stands rela tively to that of Great Britain as two to one. The lands and buildings of the United Kingdom were last valued at about $20,000,000,000, and those of the United States at just about $40, 000,000,000. The wealth in bouses in this "land of the free" represented an annual in vestment of about $12.50 per inhabit ant for the twenty years ending with 1890. The annual average ia Great Britain represented an annual invest ment of less than $6 per inhabitant for CROW; the same period. Inasmuch as economists tell us that the outlay on houses is the surest gauge of wealth, it thus appears that the average accumulation of property in the United States is more than double what it is in the British Isles. Coming next to commerce we find Mr. Stead claiming that British trade and shipping are about five times as ex pensive and valuable in 1897 as they were in 1837. He points to the fact 6R/T?SH EXPENDITURE Foti EDUCATION But we can dwarf these figures also. Sixty years ago tho total imports and exports of the United States were less than $200,000,000 per year. Now they are over $1,500,000,000 a year. While British foreign trade has been multi plying five-fold American foreign trade has multiplied eeven-fold. In the matter of railroads, Mr. Stead I says truly that the great bulk of Brit ish railroad mileago has been built since Victoria began to r-'i?n. Even so, our railroad building record beats it "all hollow." The total railroad mileage of the United Kingdom to-day is about] 21,000 miles. The railway mileage of the United States is more than nine times as large. "We have over 180,000 miles of railroads already built, and that is more than the combined rail road ndleage of all tho nations of Eu rope put together. Coming next to manufactures, Mr. Stead gives a diagram showing that between 1837 and 1897 the value of British manufactures has about dou bled. That is a good lively gait, but it does ndt touch the pace at which the manufactures have grown in the United States. Our statistics are not complete enough for close comparison away back in 1837, but* we have the figures from 1850 to 1890. In 1850 the gross value of the man ufactured products of this country was $1,000,000,000, using round figures. In 1890 the gross valne of the product of American manufactures was $9, 400,000,000. So that in forty years V/ORMNG POWER WORKING POWEIR. American manufactures increased in value nine-fold, as against a two-fold inorease in the value of British manu factures in sixty years. Mr. Mulhall, the celebrated British statistician, has pointed out that "the productive power of a nation can be measured at each census with almost the same precision as that with which the astronomer indicates the distances of the heavenly bodies." An able bodied male adult has a daily working power equal to that required to lift 300 tons one foot. On this basis Mr. Mulhall reports the physical power ol the American nation to-day to be equal to 6406 millions of foot tons per day. To that he adds the horse-power and steam-power of the country, and re ports the total daily lifting power in the United States at 129,806 millions of foot tons. The meaning of this statement is better understood when it is added that, by Mr. Mulhall's computation, "the United States pos sess almost as much productive energj as Great Britain, Germany and France collectively." He tell3 ns further that an average farm hand in the United States raises at much grain as three farm hands in England, by reaBon of his superior machinery and tools. Whence we de duct the fact that the daily working power, or capacity for productive labor, of the United States is about three times as great at least as that of Great Britain. Finally, there is the matter of edu cation, and perhaps after all this is the point of comparison of which we have the best right to be proud. The census of 1890 shows that eighty-seven per cent, of our total population above the age of ten can both read and write. In the words of Mr. Mulhall, "In the history of the human race no nation ever before possessed 41,000,000 in structed citizens." Great Britain is no doubt the lead ing nation in Europe in the matter of N. Of_ BfMTI5H, ?3AN.U f AC TU RE rK-or?MERlCAN MANUFACTURE) [popular education, but the United States had a common school system away back when Victoria began to reign and long before, while Great Britain has only had one for about twenty-two years. Even to-day Brit ish expenditure on public schools is only $1.30 per capita, while the United States are spending $2.40 per capita for the same purpose, or nearly twice as much. Z SWAN'S NEST UPON A ROCK. A Unique Sight In New York's Great Pleasure Ground. There is a swan's nest in Central Park, and two big black swans take turns in guarding it. There are four big oval eggs in the nest, and they are very precious, for they are the only swan's eggs that will bo laid in the Park this year. Tho nest is built on a bare open rock ten feet in diameter nd rising but little more than a foot above the water. Tl is in the low?r a- matter oi .vveeaa. v/iivo m a wmie the male bird relieves his mate from duty, and takes a turn nt keeping the four eggs warm while the female flies up .and down the pond. Big swans are formidable foes, and when angered by anyone approaching their nest fight with wonderful fierce? ness. It is a bold man who dares tc risk his eyes in a battle with them. SWAN'S NEST IN CENTRAL PARK. But a swarm of little sparrows, as if knowing how easily the big birds are angered, like to hop and twitter mis chievously about them. The Park keepers are greatly sur prised at the spot chosen for the nest. Last year there was also one solitary nest for the entire season, but the par ent birds, a couple of white ones, made great effort to hide their home, even adopting the remarkable expedient of building a false decoy nest to. attract attention from the spot.-New York Journal. A Kat Killing Duel. A bet was made at Villa Bica, Ga., a few days ago between W. H. Barton and John Bass as to who could kill the most rats in two hours' time. The two men repaired to Barton's barn. It was full of corn and fodder, and an in viting homo for rats. They moved the corn and the rats moved out in great numbers. Each man was armedjwith a club. Barton killed 441 and Bass 436, Barton winning by five rats. In a cotton basket the dead rats were put and weighed an even hundred pounds. -Douglasville (Ga.) New South. Minister Bora When Washington Wai President. This is a. picture of a Coldwater (Mich.) preacher, who was born when Washington was President. He was REV. W. B. SPBAOUE. ono hundred years old on the last day of last February. It was his ambition to round out his century and live un der still * uother Administration. ?BHR9BM9EHHS^BE . ? AGRICULTURAL TOPICS. Fortabi? Houses. An occasional change, not only of food, but quarters as well, is conducive to the health of the hog. Many of om more successful swine raisers keep their herds divided up, using small, stoitly built houses without floors, the silh of which are rounded up at the enos, so that with a team the houses can be "snigged" to a new location. This encourages the swine, while dis couraging disease germs and other vermin. -f-Agricultural Epitomist. Quack Grass on Sandy Soil. ' It is very difficult to rid sandy soil of either quack grass or of its equal pest, the Canada thistle, because where there is no hard subsoil the roots run too deeply for the plow to bring them up. The sandy soil is also so porous and has so little vegetable mould that the quack roots do not die quickly, even if not allowed to send up shoots. But on land wholly desti tute of vegetable matter it is hardly worth while to get rid of quack. It will iieep a sod and prevent the sand from blowing, which is difficult to do with any of the cultivated grasses or with clover. Knack of Onion-Growing. Those who grow onions in beds in amateur gardens must have noted that when- a few seeds get scattered on a patch, of ground that has been tramped Ji&rd and soliJ. the result is a crop of onions much larger and finer than those grown in the looser soil devoted to tho onion bed proper.. This would certainly indicate that well compacted soil is preferable for tho greatest suc cess in onion culture. In many parts of America, however, the ouion is per mitte l to have two seasons for its full development, They are sown com paratively late in the spring and mature by midsummer, making bulbs about the size of large marbles, which are known as onion-sets. The^e are then replanted the following spring and grow to a large size by mid-sum mer, when they again mature. But the fact that we have noted in relation to compact soil ought to be as true of the onion-sets as of the plant which grows in a single season to its ma turity.-Meehan's Monthly. The Strawberry Weevil. In eome sections of the country this little pest is doing a great deal of dam age. It is not a hard enemy to con quer when ono know- the remedies to use, b .. it must not be treated like Weevil on plums, as the fruit is so soft and ripens so early that it is not safe to use arsenical poisons. The weevil fa ii ven ** *?" tore, if one is in an infected district, apply kerosene emulsion in the fol lowing way: For the emulsion use one gallon of kerosene, one-quarter pound hard soap one-half gallon of water. Dissolve the soap in boiling water, and while still at the boiling point, add the kerosene, and mix by thor oughly ihurning or putting it through B force pump until the oil is perfectly mixed a ad does not come to the top. This must be diluted with ten or twelve parts water, and applied with a force puaip or sprayer. It will have to be done several times, but will prove z complete cure.-Vick's Magazine. The head of a tree needs to be fairly open to admit sun and air for full growth perfection of fruit. Further paore, a moderately low head on a tree is desirable inasmuch as it flavors the economical gathering of the crop of fruit. It is considered a good plan to oc casionally put on trees a coat of strong soft soaj during a warm spell in win ter. It aids in destruction of inseots and parasites that are harbored in the back of the trunk and larger branches. Of course the soap will eventually be be washnd off by rains. The eggs of the ten^ caterpiller are now to be found readily upon the naked branches of the i.pple tree. They appear in bands gi ted on near the ends of small twigs. Out odf the twigs and burn them, thus making sure of the destruction of the eggs. How many orchards ap pear, especial ly, among our older set tlements, that they are really unprofit able and useless! The. trees are starved, mn ont, and show but a poor, mean scraggy growth. Manure lib erally au 1 prune severely and ofttimes these seemingly worn trees will be in duced to take upon themselves a new lease of life. Tillage, manure, care, are all im portant v 1th an orchard. A man can not expeot to receive paying crops if he does not work and labor and strive and plan for the same. Do not hesi tate to give the orchard at least as muoh attention as you would a crop of corn and potatoes. Not only is it wise to take care of what trees a farmer may have, but it will usually be profit able to set ont new orchards. The min who makes a business of or char dir g and uses all modern ap pliances to aid him in his work prac ticed, follows the best idea in spray ing, care of trees, marketing fruits, etc., and studies modern papers and books on horticulture, will, we think, find he hfl s an industry that year in and year out will yield as good returns as any branch of agriculture.-W. P. Perkins, rn Nebraska Farmer. The Comlna* Vehicle. The horseless wagon is surely com ing. As previously chronicled, au "electrio phaeton" was successfully tested et Hartford last week, and a day or two . ater a carriage with a kerosene motor Lad a satisfactory trial at Mid dletown. "It weighs," we are told, "only 625 pounds, and the cost is $1500. Mr. Whitney, the inventor, took out several of the prominent resi dents of the city for a spin, and the wagon went np the steep hills of the city as quickly as it passed over the macadamized principal thorough fares." The cost of running the vehicle is said to be two cents a mile. Its speed is from ten to fifteen miles an hour. Providence (R, L) Journal. The Orchard. Johnson's Chill and Fe ver Tonic is a ONE-DAY Cure, lt cures the most stubborn case of Fever in 24 Hours. Tho Electric Bug. "These swarms o? bugs of which. I see complaint is now being made in St. Louis are the product of our rapid development of the electrio force," re marked E. W. Cushion, of Indianapo lis, at the Linden. "They were un known a few years ago, and now they are pests in all the towns und cities in this country where electricity is in considerable use. I talked with a college professor at Indianapolis about them recently, and he is convinced that they have sprung up as a sort of spontaneous outgrowth of the increased utilization of the electric force. Ana tomically, the electric bug is sui gen eris, and appears to imbide its susten ance from some property in the air currents that lie in immediate contact with the electric currents. The col lege professor to whom I spoke has been studying them closely, and says he is convinced that in the end they will prove a blessing instead of a curse. Re thinks it probable that after awhile the enlarged use of electricity wi?l generate new germs and microbes in the atmosphere that will be additional sources of disease and bodily ills to the human race, and that medical science will be unable to eope with them for a long time. Meanwhile, na ture is responding to the new demands on her storehouse by sending these swarms of bugs to purify the air of poisonous things put in it by the aro lights and the trolley. He declares that he has watched this strange new bug closely, and has thus far been un able to find out on what it subsists un less it be some unknown foreign sub stance brought into the atmosphere by tho electric currents. For that reason, he says, they are very properly de nominated electrio bugs, and he be lieves they are destined to serve a good purpose as scavengers of the air in the years to come."-St. Louis Republic, Why take Johnson9s Chill & Fever Tonic? Because it cures the most stubborn case &nejten-.g ps-* . >v > V,'C .*"< '. ft?l.? tWO frfi *~ ftj JSu* f*l _hex "wttio ucgan to now. The dean inquired the cause, and learned that it was her wedding day. They were on their way to church, and now her white clothes vere wet, and she could not go. "Never mind-ni marry you," said the dean; and he took out his prayer book and then and there married them, their witnesses being present; and, to make the thing complete, he tore a leaf from his pocket-book, and with his pencil wrote and signed a certificate, which he handed ts the bride: '.Und sr a tree in stormy weather, I married this man and woman to gether; let none but Him who rules th? thunder sever this man and woman asunder.-Jonathan Swift, dean of Si* Patrick's." Quinine and other fe' ver medicines take from 5 to 10 days to cure fever. Johnson's Chill and Fever Tonic cures in ONE DAY. Sunday Feeding. Under the heading of the "Sunday Penalty of Irregular Feeding," the Medical Record points out that in our progress from barbarism we have evolved a people with whom regularity in eating is absolutely necessary to good health. As a result of this arti ficial existence, the secretions are poured out and ready for action with the monotony of clockwork. If this syp', ?rn is neglected, the violator not only suffers bodily discomfort, but an actual injury is done to the digestive apparatus, which has been so educated that it requires a definite amount of exercise and positive promptness in feeding that requirement. The stom ach having poured out its secretions, as customary, waits only a short time before allowing them to be absorbed without the accompanying nutrition which goes to the formation of more secretions. After a few such experi ences, the secretions become less in amount and activity, and indigestion ensues. Dyspeptics are ordered to eat at inflexibly regular intervals. Normal stomachs are by no means many, yet this rule, so imperative to sufferers, is regularly disregarded by the well. Once a week, the three regular daily meals are replaced by late rising and abstinence, followed by gluttony. The gastric juices know nothing of a seventh day of "rest," and the result is discomfort, stupidity, and loss of appetite on Monday. Johnson's Chill and Fe ver Tonic is a ONE-DAY Cure. It cures the most stubborn case of Fever in 24 Hours. A Kentucky strawberry grower re? ports a clear profit this season ol $729.63 on seven acres of ground. Numbers of women and children who would have earned money in no other way mad J one or two dollars a day picking berries. Another grower of strawberries reports his clear profit to have been $357.50 on two acres of ground.