V fsfl iisri v wimtmu Mi mMfc ' INE5. AM old and I am weary, and my marching days n r n'fr. can hear the misty river, breaking on Its ghostly alinro! At the window, with my crutches, as the daylight fades away, I sit and watch the shadows 'neath the hoary maples play; It Is then I hear the music of a bugle loud and shrill, And the long roll In the twilight seems to come from yonder hill; But awake or dreaming ever I can sec the old blue lines, And again the army marches marches underneath the pines. With a tread that echoes ever In the vet eran's heart to-day, Marches still that grand old army, 'mong the trees so far away: And I see Its banners floating proudly gainst the azure sky, Just as though beneath my window It to day were passing by; I can recognize the comrades touching el bows as of yore, With a beautiful devotion that will live forever more; And the sun In cloudless heavens upon blade and bay'net shines, And the breezes stir tho pennons of tho army In the pines. Sitting here I count tho marches one can never more forget, I can see the gleaming camp-fires when the stars their watch have set; Yonder rides tho graybeard colonel, with a comrade's smile for all, That morning In the wilderness, ho was the first to fall; I remember how we laid him 'neath tho dark green branches low, And turned to meet the' charges of tho ever valiant foe; I seem to hear war's thunder as it rolled along our lines, Waking not the dear old colonel, sleeping sweetly 'neath tho pines. But my crutches oft remind mo that our battle flags are furl'd, That where we fought the angel Peace pro claims to all the world That love cements tho section's ami that, brothers true to-day, Beneath the starry banner fair stand both the Blue and Gray; The roses bloom In beauty where we heard the mad shells scream, And southern lilies grow beside the sauad- ron guarded stream, And everywhere, this sacred day, lovo gratefully entwines A fragrant wreath In memory of the army In the pines. Tho sound of music thrills me; they are 1 coming down the street, 17 I plainly hear upon the wind the tramp of many feet; With nature's treasures beautiful they march again to keep Memorial day and crown the boys where side by side they sleep; They see me at the window and salute me as they pass, I lift my hand and smile on them, but very soon they pass, My old, old eyes grow misty and I cannot see the lines, Though I seem to hear the army once again among the pines. There's another army marching 'neath the heavens soft and blue, Its leaders are not many now, Its privates, too, are few; Ono by one they cross the river to tho camp where all Is still, Where drums to battle never beat and bugles never thrill; Memorial day grows sweeter as tho long years glide away, And loving nature yields her gifts alike for Blue and Gray; And soon where tho last veteran sleeps will creep the summer vines, And evermore will silent bo the camps among the pines. T. C. Harbaugh, In Ohio Farmer. It's still worse. You hnd just bettor spend that $50 In btiyln' me an' the girls some new clothes. Goodness knows, we need 'em bad enough; I haven't had a new dress since this lawln' business be gan, five year ago; neither has the girls." Again the foot of ".Ma" Walker struck the floor with a thump that was certain ly Impressive, and her husband, finding that he could accomplish nothing by argument, left the house. If his wife wouldn't consent he hnd no thought of doing what he wished against her wishes, nnd, besides that, the money that he wanted was her own, the re ceipts from her butter and egg sales. No, the case would have to go over for awhile, but ho wouldn't give it up, he would tench his contrary brother the needed lesson in time. 7XUS . . XWffifVW7 flip) ArA Brothers (rave. rr. :: --e T you ever goin' to quit lawin'over Unit shout V You an' Josh have both spent more'n its worth fifty times over, an'itain't no nearersettledthan itwusfiveyoarago. Nol won't irive mv consent to spendin' another nickel in lawin'," and "Ma" Walker gave her foot a determined stamp on the polished kitchen floor to signify that she meant . all she said. To those who knew "Ma" Walker the f stamp she gave meant much. Jler - mind was made up, und no amount of "coaxing and argument could change it. She didn't intend to throw good money after bad in a vain endeavor to get pay ment for a four-dollar shout for which they had already mortgaged the farm for more than they could pay in the next live years. "But, Mn,' the lawyer says lie can git a judgment in the next court, an' then I want to teacli Josh that he can't have ..everything his own way. The lawyer "says he'll only need $50 more." "Hiram Walker, you might just as well quit talkin', for I tell you I won't consent to spendin another cent. 1 de ! clare to goodness, it's a downright shame that two brothers can't get along without spqndin' all they make in law in'! It's bad enough for Josh, and for you, what's got a family to care for, In the dnrk days of '01 three brothers responded to President Lincoln's call for troops. They came from a quiet farm home in one of the northern coun ties of Indiana. All of them left home for the bnttlellelds with a mother's blessingonthelrheuds,but the mother's heart went out especially to the young est, "her baby." He was but a boy of 19 to whom the hard work of the farm had always been more of a burden than his frail body could bear, and for that rea son he was made much of by the other members of the family. But men were needed, her sons thought it their place to go, and it was not her part to stand in the way of their duty to their country. hard words, and all the comradeship of the past was forgotten. It was In the winter time, nnd both brothers were fattening hogs for market- The pens in which their hogs were kept adjoined, and day after day they had stood together and remarked about the condition of the stock. One morn ing as Joslah came out to the barnyard lie found his brother counting his hogs, and as he reached his side Hiram turned to him and said: "Josh, there's a board loose and one of my shoats has worked Its way into your pen. 1 think it's the spotted one in the corner there." "Guess you're mistaken, Hiram; that's my pig; this old sow here is his mother. You'll have to look again, Hi ram, to find your slioat." "But I guess I know my slioat when I see It, Josh, and I tell you that spot ted pig's mine. I'll git in an' catch It and put it back in my pen." "You'll do nothin' of the kind. That spotted pig's mine, I tell yon, an you'll let it alone where it is. 1 don't believe you've lost a shoat, anyway." And so the quarrel started. A pig that either would have gladly given the other had he asked it was to come be tween them. At his first opportunity Hiram car ried out his intention of putting the pig into his own pen, and In less than 24 Jiours afterwards he was arrested on a warrant sworn out by his brother. The case went through the justice court with a decision for Joslah; when appealed to the grand jury the decision THE BROTHERS MEET. Month after month wore away. The mother watched anxiously for each mail, and was occasionally rewarded with a letter, always from "her baby." Ho told her of his brothers, of the army, of their camp life, of their marches and their battles, but of himself he told her little except that he was as well as usual. But the mother read between the lines. The hardships of campaigning was wearing away "her baby's" health, and how she longed for him. And then one day a letter came from Hiram. His brother, the mother's "baby," was ill, and they would send him home to her. She could feel al most glad that he was sick for it would bring him back. How carefully she would nurse him, and by the time the war was over he should be well again. But the mother's hopes were not to be realized. "Her baby" came home to her only to be taken away again forever. She watched beside his bedside; she did all the many little things Unit only a mother knows how to do, but without success. Long before the war was over they had laid him in the little cemetery, and his furlough was extended into eternity. When the old folks died the farm of more than !200 acres was left to Hiram and Josiah Walker, to be divided equal ly or worked together, as the brothers might choose. For several years they farmed their land together, and then Hiram married. After that the land was divided, Hiram taking the part on which the home stood for himself and his bride, and Josiah was to make his home with them. Added to the ties of blood were the ties of comradeship on the battlefields of the south, and they seemed insepar able. Nothing, it seemed, could come between them. They assisted each oth er in their work, they shared each oth er's earnings; they made it a point to plant at the same time; they reaped their crops at the same time, and tlicy hold the products of their farms to the same men. Their lives were the happy ones of peace and good will. Aud then came a time of doubt, of was the other way. At a retrial the de cision was again reversed, and then it went to the state courts, where it was tried time after time, until now it had reached the supreme court, and Hiram hoped to have the last decision against him reversed. During the progress of the case both brothers had become heavily involved in raising the money needed to pay court and attorneys' fees. Hiram's farm had been mortgaged, his crops sold to pay the same kind of bills. The needs of his family had counted for naught against this legal monster. His boy had left school that he might take the place of a hired man and so save that expense, as well as that incurred by his schooling. The daughters had done without the clothes they were ac customed to. They and their mother had worked over their old ones until they would bear no more, and then came this plea for just $50 more. 13very plea of this kind had promised to be the last one since tho case was first started, and "Ma" Walker had finally rebelled. "I tell you, girls, something's got to be done so's your father and Uncle Josh'll make up this senseless quarrel of theirs. I can't, for the life of me, think how we're goin' to do it, but do it we must. Can't one if you think out borne plan?" A little conference of mother and daughters was being held in the kitch en. They wanted clothes, and that soon. Here was summer coming on and all of their thin clothing was worn out long before the last summer was over. Something must be done to stop this ravenous legal monster that was de vouring them. "1 don't know ns it'll work," replied Mary, the youngest, "but anyway we might try it" "Try what?" cried "Ma" Walker. "You know, ma, pa and Uncle Josh always go to the cemetery Decoration day to fix up Uncle Charley's grave. That's one of the last requests Grand ma Walker made before she died. She said Charley was 'her baby,' and she wanted his grave always kept nice. Before this lawsuit pa and Uncle Josh always went together on Decoration day to trim the bushes and fix t lie sod and put on the flowers, but now they go by themselves, l'a always goes in the afternoon and Uncle Josh In the morn ing, and each takes care of one side of tho grave. Maybe If we could get them to go at the same time, and have them meet there without knowing it the re membrances might cause them to make up again." "I just believe it would, Mary, if we could only do It, but your pa's so set in his ways Unit he wouldn't go at any time he thought Uncle Josh would be there, and Uncle Josh wouldn't go H he thought he'd meet your pa. I don't see how we could work it, Mary, they're botli that contrary," and "Ma" Walker shook her head over the problem. "But, ma, couldn't we make Uncle Josh believe pa was going in I he morn ing, or make pa believe Uncle Josh was going In the afternoon," put in Jane. "Now I never thought of that," and "Ma" Walker beamed on her two daugh ters. "It takes young heads for new ideas, don't it. I'll just leave it for you two girls to fix up. You've gut a way of gettin' round them two men I never could get." HOUSEHOLD NOTES. The morning of May 30 was as bright and clear as anyone could ask. The country people in the part of the coun ty where the Walkers lived always made tho day a holiday a day devoted to the memories of the brave men who fell In the civil war. Many of them had friends and relatives buried on the battlefields of the south, but there were but few soldier graves in the little churchyard cemetery at home. What few there were, however, received tho offerings of the entire community. As Hiram Walker came in from the barn after doing the chores of the morn ing his wife asked how soon after din ner he was going to the cemetery, say ing she believed she would go with him. "I guess I'll go this morning," he re plied. "The girls tell me Josh lias took a notion to annoy me by goin' in the afternoon, an' l guess I'll let him have his own way." After the quarrel of five years before Josinh hud built himself a house as far from that of his brother as pos sible, and at his place there was no sign of his intention of varying his usual custom of visiting the cemetery in the morning. The girls had worked their plans quite successfully, and the chances were the brothers would meet at u place where, for a time at least, they must drop their quarrel over a spotted pig. Home Coiiimoti!iicc IIIIk of Inform! lloit Glunticil for the HiiHy HoiiHCwIfe. Josiah Walker was kneeling beside the little marble monument clipping the dead branches out of a roue bush over his brother's grave, when he be came aware that some one was ap proaching the grave from the other side of the bush. Glancing around he saw it was his brother. As he rose from his position beside the bush Hiram paused at the side of the grave opposite him. "Why do you come here at this time?" demanded Josiah, thoroughly incensed at what he considered an imposition. "And why did you tell my girls that you was comin' in tho afternoon," an swered Hiram. "I came this morning because you told them that." "I never told the girls nothing of the kind, and you know it. You come here at this time to spite me." The whole scheme that the girls anil their mother had worked came to Hi ram in a minute, and stepping a little nearer he said: "Josiah, the girls told me that, and now i know why. They can't sec any sense in this quarrel of ours, and want us to forget it. They thought here at ('hurley's grave would be a good place for us to meet. Don'tyou think it is?" Without a word of reply Josiah ex tended his hand across the grave, where it met that of his brother. "Hiram." he said, "we have quarreled for many years. 1 thought I would never, again speak a kind word to you, but beside the grave where; our brother and comrade sleeps our quarrel should be forgotten for the time at least. Shall it be?" "Why not let it be forgotten for all time, Josiah? Is a spotted pig worth tiie amount of happiness it lias cost us?" "It was my pig, Hiram." "No. it was mine, Josiah." "Let's call it our pig, Hiram, ns it really was?" "That's best, Joslah. Now let's fix up Charley's and mother's graves, and then you must go home to dinner with me, for 1 suspect 'ma' and the girls will be expecting you." The lawsuit was settled out of court. "Ma" Walker and the girls got their summer dresses, and abundant supply, for they came from both fnrms, and Jo siah is back at the old home ngain to litis. WRIGHT A. PATTERSON. i Ono MlNfortiitio Avi'i'lcil. Anxious Mother I think you should interfere, Edward. There Is young Stumps sitting for the last half-hour with Mabel, holding her hand. You know that he's not in a position to mar ry! Father (complacently) True, butlet him hold her hand, Martha. It will keep her from the piano. Stray Stories To powder parsley, dip tho bunch, quickly into boiling water, to make It a brilliant green, then put it In a hot oven for a few minutes to dry thorough ly. Break it Into lino flakes. If your mandolin has been soiled nnd greasy through being touched by moist fingers, take a mixture of ono tcnspoon ful of vinegar in four tcaspooufulB oC water, and lightly wash tho parts af fected. Then rub dry and contluuo to rub with a dry, clean cloth, which must bo entirely free from all rotighnesH. After this, polish with some good furni ture polish. A few drops of oil of sandal wood,, sold by druggists, dropped on a hot shovel, will be found to dilTu.sc a most agreeable balsamic perfume. In siek rooms or confined apartments. As a dentifrice salt and water will not only cleanse but whiten the teeth, und will harden the gums. A well-known and successful exhib itor of vegetables recently remarked that asparagus was rarely properly cooked when sent to the table, becauso of tho practice of submerging tho whole of tho stems in water, thus treating; greeit tops and blanched bases alike Tho proper way is to eoolc It erect, cov ering tho blanched stem with water, and leaving the green, tender tips .to bo cooked by the steam, in this way tho entire stem is completely cooked at tho same time. Before closing your houses for tho summer, try this simple method of preserving bright grates or Hrc-lroiiH from rust. Make a strong paste from fresh lime and water, and, with brush, smear it as quickly as possiblo over all the polished surface requiring preservation. By this means all tho grates and lire-irons in an tunpty house may be kept for months without fur ther care or attention. The usual method for cleaning glovetr. entails more or less expense, and fre quently unpleasant odors. Try the fol lowing one, which is as successful nu it. is cheap. Have ready a littlu now millc in ono saucer, a piece of towel or cloth folded three or four times. On tho cloth spread out tho glove smooth und neat. Take, a piece of flannel, dip it in milk, then rub oil' a good quantity of soap with the wetted flannel, aud com mence to rub the glove downward to ward the fingers, holding it firmly with the left hand. Continue this process un til the glove, if white, looks a dingy yellow, though clean; if colored, until it looks dark and spoiled. Lay it to dry, and old gloves will soon look new. They will be soft, glossy, smooth, well-shaped aud elastic. Salt thrown on coals when broiling, steak will prevent blazing from tho dripping fat. When contents of pot or pun boil over or are spilled, throw on salt at once. It, will prevent a disagree able odor, and the stove or range may bo more readily cleansed. Cincinnati Com mercial Tribune. FAKIRS NJ VER MAKE MISFITSL Tlie .Merry II uiiioiInI, Holt llurlUr, l'lilloHophly.i-N on I In- "Short CiiIm" o KikimIciIkis A peddler comes along. "Want to practice medicine? Well, it will take you four, maybe live, years of tho hard est kind of boning at this old dust yard of a school; you come with w and I'll uell you a diploma, good any where, that'll cost you only ten or twelve weeks' loafing and $J00." First: thing we know we have a doctor in the class. Another 'fakir comes along; finds, u boy who wants to be a preacher; can, preach a little, but he would like to he a theologian. "All right," the fakir says; "got a degree of 1). IX right here in the desk; cost you $50; and an old sermon." Boy gets it, frames it nndl hangs it up in his study. Wears IiIk 1). I), around In public, proud a the crow with the peacock feather. Yarn might think these fellows would' get a misfit some time, but they never dOi never. A $50 degree fits a $50 nuuu like the paper on tho wall. Same wiiyy with all the "short-cut" honors. TIiV fakirs are good tailors; they can rind to do them justice (hey do make their. wares to fit their customers every time.. And one popular class of "instructors" In this line are the professors- -whoi teach "short cuts" to wealth. Th'ti do a free dispensary business with war price profits, and they also keep a fin ishing school in Canada. ttohert J,. Burdette, In Ladies' Homo Journal SI ri ! rr.v I'tKldliitr. Sift iys cups of flour with one heap ing teaspoonful baking powder into a bowl; add one-quarter teaspoonful. salt, one tablespoonful sugar and one tahlesnoonful butter: rub IW lnt- I fine in lhe Hour, mix the yolks of two eggs with three-quarters of a cupful milk; add it to the flour and mix all together. Add last the two beaten, whites. Fill the mixture in a butteredl melon form. If a form is not haiuly take a large kettle, butter It audi sprinkle with bread crumbs, and fill In the batter; close it tightly aud place the pudding in a kettle with sutllcinnt wafer to reach one-third up the form,, boil 112 hours. Care ehould be tukuni not to have too much water in thpket- tie, as the water is apt to get Under the cover and make the puddimr soirirv.- ' Sf. Louis Bepubllc. ;