Nebraska Newspapers

    k LITTLEJRISH GIRL,
f |a\;' My “Hi* Onrliwa,"
h CHAPTER VI—Continued,
■ ■ ••Oh, wait— wait! Hy-the-bye,"
bringing out her loft hand from behind
her back, "I hntl nearly forgotten,
but I found these, and I brought them
to you. Violet*! Smell thoro,”
thrusting them under hi* nose. ••De
licious, aren’t they? I found them
tiuder the ivy wall. Andy and i
planted them there last year."
••Andy and you seem to bo great
friends," says ho in a gentler tone,
taking her hand, violets and all and
holding it. Somobow it has como to
him that this charming child is not in
love with ••Andy," however delight
ful that young gentleman may ho.
"Oh, the best, tho dearest! I don’t
disguise from you," says Miss McDor
inol, growing suddenly serious, “that
at times we quarrel. “We” (thought
fully) “quarrel a good deal when to
gether. Rut when Andy is away
from me—ah! then I know what a per
fect darling he is!"
•“Absence makes the henrt grow
fonder,”’ murmured Mr. Kyro, wisely
refraining from a smile. "And Andy,
how dees he regard youP—hero—and
merer
“ 'Here.’ its I toll you,” says she, with
a fresh, delicious laugh. ••Iio makes
himself abominable now and then.
But when lie is •there,’—oh, thou
■;r Andy loves mol”
“ltfhoiild think you and ho should
y. always be •ihero,' ” says hor com
lianlon gravciy.
“Well, I don't. I'm dolighted he's
-vis sominjr. Ilh-s* me!'’ plancing at the
dock, I've only half an hour to see
about his sheets and things! and I
don't believe Bridget has thought
about lighting, a firo in his room.
There! (Jood-by for a while. I must
run. ■•llo’ll hill mo if ho finds him
solf without a firo in his rooml"
i : ■: She rushes out of the room hb sho
had oatorod it—like a heavenly
{Spring wind that brings only joy to
the receiver of it. Eyre, staring af
ter, fecBng a quick throb at his heart.
What a^folfght she is! How different
from most girls! And this cousin of
hers—this Andy! No doubt he is a
young Adonis; a “curlod darling’’—a
creature half boy, half man and
wholly charming. But she is not in
ry love with him. So much can be read
■ by those who run.
When ho does see Andy, which is
three hours later, his astonishment
knows no bounds. Andy is indeed a
revelation! Ho is perhaps the ugliest
■ young Irishman on rocord, and that it
saying a good deal. As handsome as
Irish women undoubtedly are. so in
proportion are Irish men hideous.
But his manners mado up for a
good deal, lie is full of bonhomie,
brimming over indeed with the milk
of human kindness. In tho course of
the five minutes he is permitted to
speak with Mr. Eyre, who is still con
eidered an invalid, he fires off as many
jokes as would have made a reason
able supply for a month with anybody
else.
Having then said he felt ho ought to
ffo and present himself to The Mc
Dermot, who Is his guardian, ho beats
a retreat, dragging Duleio into the
corridor outside us he goes.
“I say, he isn’t half a bad fellow;
but he isn't tit to hold a candle to Sir
Ralph,” says he in a whisper, still
clutching Dulcle by the arm.
“You know my opinion of Sir
Balph!” returns she, trying unavail
Inifiy to extricate herself from his
grasp.
“Girls never have an opinion worth
a ha'penny!” retorts he, letting her
go with a disgusted grimace. Already
one of the quarrels!
CHAPTER VII
‘‘Honor** a mistress all mankind pursue;
Yet most mistake the false one for the
true.*
>i Eyre having received permission,
and being anxious on his own part to
bring matters to a climax, makes an
early opportunity of requesting a pri
»wnte interview with his host The
: time ohosen is to-day- As wet a day
as ever came out of the heavens, and
the one after that on which Audy Mc
Dermot arrived.
There had been a hurried interview
between Eyre and Dutclo in the morn
ing, in which the girl had Boomed
downhearted and dispirited, and in
clined to let matters stay as they were,
bad as vhey undoubted by trniBt be con
sidered; but Eyre—fired with sorrow
for her. and determination to save, her
from the impending disaster that
threatens her—namely, her marriage
with that miscreant Anketell—had re
fused to listen to her fears, and is now
•landing outside The McDermot’s
private den, waiting for admission.
It is soon gi veu.
The den is an awful agglomeration
of things useful and useless—princi
pally useless—but beloved as having
o&ce belonged to better days than
these. In the midst of the chaos sits
The McDormot, calmly smoking a pipe
that could never have seen a bettor
day .than this, as it is now as black as
black can be.
‘‘Bless my soul. Mr. Eyre! You,”
eays be, rising and pulling forward a
chair for his guest—“you sent me
word, 1 cow remember, that you
•ranted to see me. Feeling strong,
«h?~better, eh? Have a brandy and
soda?”
“No, thanks. No, I assure you.
The fuct is, I—I wanted to, .speak to
you about your daughter.” ,
* “About my daughter?” The Me
Dermot lays down the decanter, and
turns his eyes fall upon Eyre. “Well,
and what about her?”
and what about her?'
“It is a little difficult to explain to
you; but—I have come to the conclu
de sion that your daughter is not happy
•' in the engagement she has oon
traded."
“Ah!*’says The McDermot, wrink
X- ling bis brows. “B that ail? Don' t
' V you want to tell me you have fallen in
.. love with Pulclnea—that she would be
happier in an engagement with you?
; > and therefore yon think her coming
marriage with Sir Ralph Anketel an
pt iniquitous arrangement?
' “Not' iniquitous so much as mis
.'dX taken,” says Eyre, keeping hif temper
rr ' admirably, under the other’s ill-oon
7 cealed sarcasm; “besides, must it
f * come to marriage?'’
“Sol have been given to under
Sex
Stand by both parties.*'
, .
‘‘Kngugemontshavo boon broken bo
foro now.1'
“I daro any—I know nothing- of that
I know only this, that my daughter1!
engagement with Sir liulph Ar.kcte
ahull not be broken."
••Not even if it were for hor good.’
•‘How should it be for her good?"
"Happiness counts," say* the young
er tnnn quickly. “Mcllermot” (earn
estly) “I should not try to disarrange
your views for your daughner, if 1
could not offer as much as i cause hor
to lose. I can make settlements.”
"No doubt, no doubt! That is mat
ter, sir. for the lady you may choose to
marry.”
"Just so; that lady is your daugh
ter.” ’>
••There'you make a mistake, Mr.
Eyre,” said The Dormot distinctly.
••You will nover marry my daughter
with my consent. With regard to her
own consent, that is already forfeited.
Her word is given to another. And
one word, sir; permit mo ti ay that as
my guest you-”
"No. 1 shall not pormit you!” inter
rupted Eyre passionately. “Is every
sacred, earnest fooling to be ruled by
society’s laws? Your daughter is un
happy. Surely there are occasions
when tho best, tho most honorable
rules should be broken! And, know
ing her unhappy-” *
“You are eloquent, sir," says The
MeDermot, ’with a reserved smile.
"Forgive mo if 1 break in upon your
admirable dissertation on tho weik
[mints of society. “You say my
daughter is unhappy. May I ask your
authority for that speech?"
“Certainly," hotly. “Sho herself
has said so!”
‘•Excellent authority indeed! My
daughter," grimly, “is evidently a
greater fool than 1 thought her!”
"You misjudge her,” says the
young man, eagerly.
Tho MoDerraot lot his eyes rest on
him for a moment. “I can follow
your line of thought,” says he, slowly,
“The woman who could appreciate
you could be no fool, oh?
"Sir!” says Eyre, frowning.
“But are you so sure of her affec
tion? Is every young girl’s first word
worthy of credit?” '?!>•
^ “I desire to keep to the point," says
Eyre, a littlo haughtily. “I cun offer
your daughter a position. I, on my
uncle’s death, shall inherit a title, I
esn offer her quite as much as Sir
Ralph can. I-”
“Sir!” interrupts The MeDermot,
sternly, "If you could make her a
duchess, I should still decline your
proposal. My daughter has given her
word to marry Sir Ralph Anketell,
and by that word she shall abide!”
So it is all over, then—in that quar
ter, at all events. Eyre, having bow
ed himself out of his host’s presence,
after forcing himself, as in duty bound,
to make courteous acknowledgement
of hospitality received, which ac
knowledgement has been as courteous
ly accepted, lias sent a message to the
village for a trap to take him and his
belongings to the inn down there as
soon as may be. Ho is raging with
indignation and disgust. That old
Goth! He will give his duughter to a
man she hates just beenuso in a fool
ish moment the poor girl has been co
ercod inio an engagement with him.
Never had the Bpirit of Don Quixote
been so strongly reproduced as in Mr.
Eyre’s heart at this dement. He will
come to her aid, father or no father!
What? would any man stand still and
see a girl wantonly, deliberately sac
rificed, and not put out a hand to help
—to sayo? II so, his name is not Lu
clon Eyre!
To see Dulcine i is, however, neces
sary. She must be made cognlzaat of
the plot laid against her happiness.
Up to this, poor child, she has re
garded her engagement as a usual
thing, if hateful; but she must ifow
learn that force will be employed if
she refuse to go calmly to tho altar
with that abomination. Sir Ralph. .
He has only just Stepp d into Ihe
corridor when he c.tues face to face
wit? he-.
"Well, I’ve seen your father,” says he.
“What! Oh, nol" sa>E she.
“^Jes, I have; a d a bigger old—I
hog your pardon. But-”
“He says I must hold to mrengawe
m nt wth Sir Ralph?” ' ,
••Ho save t at, and that onlv. If
you were a slave, he conld no' hive
made it uioro distinct that you were
without poaor in tit« matter.”
• Sure y, gro«iug very pale, you ex
aggerate a littl . A slave! Whose
slave?"
"S r Ra'ph’s presentlr, il you don’t
take swift measures to free < ourself.
Duicle. you trust me. don’t you?
Come away with me. Como thi‘s even
ing. There is a train at h .If past s x;
me t me there, and-”
• And what?”
“I’ll take you up to t wu 'o my
sister’s. Hid we o<.u to married t->
nr rrow morning.” < v >
“Mr Tie I to-mor ow morning! And
-and hn-” *
‘•Ho.” mea- Ing Hot fnths»-, she ho a
ever, had not meant t or father.* why,
ho doses os all hi will get—no more.”
‘•True, true!” says she, as if tr.ing
to work herself up to ibe neoessary
Sdnf of ' valor. “A slave, yoa said,
utstill-”
•‘Dulc nea! Dulcinea!” roars somo
one in t e distant e. It was tie voice
of Goth!” - u
“He’s calling me; I must go!” says
she, takiug her hand away from Eyre
in a lit le frigh'enod fashion.
‘ Remember,'’ whispers he. holding
1 or by the si eve, “remember the train;
the station is only a mile from this;
6:80, k ep it n m nd. I shall be there.
It is noth ng of a walk, and ——”
. “Bat, my c’.othes!"
“Oh nonsense! My s'ster will-”
“Dulcinea!” It is a very ungry roar
this time.
Dutoinea. with a wistful, undecided
planoe at Eyre, rushes <to*n the
passage t at 1 ads to her father's
sanotum and disappears.
“You called me, father?” says she,
nervously.
“Called you? I should, think so!
Half a dozen t’mes at least. What
were you doing? Philandering wita
that thundering idiot upstair , eh? I
should think, considering h s bir h,
and becomes of decent people enough,
though they are English, >hat to make
love to a girl in her father’s houae
without her father's consent was a
moat damnable lo sort of thing to do.”
■ "You u e wrong Mr! ft ro when yot
tit!k of him like tbut,” says Dulclnea
loyall-. Kyie hat meant to befrlenr
i h r. A rnv of the tin that blazes
within her fut er’s ejcs shines in hei
own nt t 'is moment.
••Kook hero!” nays The McDcrmot,
furiously; “yon can fancy yourself in
love with who n tou Ike, but you
shall marry Anketel'. a'l the same.
Y u’ve giv.n your wo tl to him aud
I'll see that to i keep U.”
"I shall > o>. marry him unless I wish
it.” says hit daughter with distinct
defiance; whereupon The McDerm< t
hre.ks out in a terrible way, and says
all s rts of bitter, unpardonable
tilings, until the girl, who is in a
white hoat of rage in hero*u way,
flings wide the door and rushes into
t a guidon, to find rest nnd peace, and
room tor thought.
She finds, however, only her cousin
CHAPTER VIU.
“Is it not time, then, to be nisei—
Or now, or nover.”
Perhaps to her it lias seemed that
• rest” and • pence” may be fount) in
him. Fond hope!
“An 'y!” tails she: “Andy!” He is
at the otliob end of Uo garden, and at
lirst doe* not hear hor. “Andy!” how
ev r, resto es hiin to a proper frame
of m nd.
“Hi!" says hi, from the niiddlo of a
bed of cabbage.
* Com * here! Come at oneo! It is
som t ling very impor ant.”
'This b ings aim to her at the rats of
forty knots an hour.
“Well, what’s the matter now?” says
lie.
“Everything!” says Miss McDermot
with commendable brevity.
“That generally means nothing with
a girl,” says her cousin, contempt
uously. “However to do you justice,
you look 'ike business this time. What
is it, eh!”
“If I cou d be sure of you, Andy.”
says she, forlornly; ‘ but iou will be
as like y as not to take his side.”
“IV hose sideP"
“Well, you see!”—hesitating—“It’fl
this way”—dead pause. ,
“Oh go on, for goodness sake. If
you havo anything on what you are
pleased to call your mind, get it off!
You look,” with all the delightful
sympathy that, as a rule,distinguishes
tho male members of one’s family,
“like a sick chicken. Anything fresh?
or is it the same old game?—our well
beloved uncle on the rampage again?”
[to be continued.]
GENERAL ORDER NO. I.
Tlifj May Not Hava Known What It
Meant, But They Obeyed It.
John F. was a soldier. Ho was a
member of the Tenth Maine regiment
and orderly sergeant of his company.
He was every inch a soldier, brave and
true; albeit a little prone to stick to
the letter rather than the spirit of the
law.
The articles of war were his study
—his vade meeum, according to the
New York Ledger. In short he was
excessively military — military all
through. At the close of the late war
John came home and was shortly after
ward Installed Into the responsible po
sition of sexton of our church. And
he straightened things out wonder
fully.
On the very first Sabbath after his
taking charge we found posted upon
the wall of the church vestibule an
imposing document headed “General
Order No. 1."
There had been trouble in certain
quarters resulting from the difficulty
which ladies who came to church late
found in gaining their seats when gen
tlemen had got iu ahead of them.
John determined to remedy this, so he
Issued 'General Order No. 1," which
read as follows:
“Rules to be observed when a lady
wishes to enter a pew in which gen
tlemen are already seated: Let the
lady advance one pace beyond the
pew. halt about face and salute. The
pew will be vacated by the gentlemen
by a flnnk movement
“The squad should rise simultan
eously when tho lady presents herself,
and'face outward—then deploy into the
aisle, the head man facing the lady,
the others passing to his rear, when
if necessary, the line will be perfected
up and down the aisle by right or left
counter march, as the case may re
quire, tho right in front
“Tlie lady, when the way is clear,
will salute again, and advance to her
position in tho pew, after which the
gentlemen will break from the rear
obliquely and resume their places.
“Parties performing this evolution
have- possession of the aisle until it is
j completed, and none others will inter
j fere. “(Signed)
John F. F.. Sexton.”
Things went straight after that.
Behind the Tlmea.
"Young man,” said the adored
one's father In a business-like way,
••I don’t care anything about your an
cestry, and as for your financial stand
ing, I find it very satisfactory." ••In
deed. n’s very kind of you. sir; I’m
grateful-” ••As I was saying when
you interrupted me. ” continued the
old man. in a tone almost severe. • -I
don’t care about those things and your
character and habits seem to be quite
worthy of approval." "You can’t
know how glad I am to have pleased
you. ” began the happy lover of such
a father's daughter, only to be shut off
with: "I am considering the matter
of offering you a partnership in our
firm." "You overwhelm me." "But
there is one question I wish to ask
you—and I want a candid answer."
“Anything anything!’’ assented
the bewildered youth joyfully. ••!„
there any tendency to insanity in your
family?” "Not a trace, not a trace."
was the prompt reply of the delighted
chap who had been half fearing some
awkward inquiry. The look of
pleased enthusiasm that had pervaded
tlie prospective father-in-law's face
vanished. He seemed utterly crushed.
*<So!” said he. "I feared there was
some hidden obstacle. You are not
fitted for modern financiering. 1 can
not listen to your suH."—Detroit
Tribune
■;>-.<•
1 ■ ■ : * . *' • ,/■ j .
~THE AGRICULTURAL WORLD.
I _
SOME PRACTICAL HINTS FOR
PROGRESSIVE FARMERS.
Care of Dairy Utensils—BeatCheese
Cow—The English Wheat Crop
—Benefits of Drainage
Useful Hints—Farm
Notes.
Care of Dairy Utensils.
In no other work is there as great a
demand tor cleanliness as ip the three
parts of the dairy business, milk, but*
ter and cheese, says the American Ag
riculturist. The moBt attention is
ne-ded to maintain the cleanliness of
the milk receptacles, such as pails,
pans, cans and churns. In the first
place there should be a sufficient sup
ply of pans that those emptied and
washed in the morning need not be
used until evening or the next day.
After washing they should be placed
in the sunlight until used. On cloudy
days they can be thoroughly dried
about the stove and not nested when
they are wet, and allowed to thus re
main for .several hours, ns in that con
dition they cannot dry, and when
separated at night they will give off a
disagreeable odor, and the warm milk
placed in them is certain to be
contaminated. All tin dairy uten
sils should be first washed in boiling
water, then thoroughly rinsed
in clean cold water, and turned bot
tom side up to drain and dry until
again used. All vessels about the
dairy should be cleaned as soon as
emptied, and not allowed to stand
neglected for hours thereafter. The
shelves, benches and racks upon which
the pans are set should be washed
with soap and water every time they
are cleared. Even a few drops of milk
nllowed to remain on them to mould
or gum up with butter fat would
prove unhealthy, and detrimental to
the milk in the same apartment.
Wfiere only a few cows are kept the
same scrupulous cleanliness should be
observed. The surface of the butter
in the tubs should be covered with a
cloth saturated with strong brine,
both during and after the filling is
completed. Locate the filled tubs in
a cool, dark portion of the cellar, ex
amine once a week, and if the brine is
found oozing through the staves, it
should be wiped away and not allowed
to remain and stain the wood, giving
it a most uninviting look.
Useful Hints.
The following schedule sent out by
the experiment station of the Agricul
tural college, Guelph, Ontario, con
tains some useful hints in regard to
butter making:
1. We do not consider that we
know every thing about buttermak
ing, as something new is being discov
ered every month. Not only from our
own work are we continually learning,
but alSo from the observation and re
search of others.
2. We do not keep a cow that
makes less than* 200 pounds of butter
to a year;
3. Nor put a cow on a starvation
ration;
4. Nor expect a cow to make some
thing out ot nothing;
5. Nor keep our cows in an ice
house, hog-pen or dungeon;
6. Nor allow them to go' a whole
year without carding or brushing
them;
7: Nor depend upon pasture alone
for a supply of summer feed.
8. We do not allow the milk to
stand very long in the stable to ab
sorb foul odors.
9. We do not neglect to strain the
milk at once after milking;
10. Nor set the milk in deep cans
in water without changing the water
at least twice, or without ice;
11. Nor mix sweet cream with
cream to be churned less than
12 hours before churning (the cream
is ripened in one vessel which holds
the cream for a whole churing);
12. Nqr add scalding water to the
cream; nor guess at the temperature
with the finger; nor take two or
three hours to churn;
13. Nor gather the butter until
the “dasher stands on top,’’ and
then dip it out of the buttermilk;
14. Nor add coarse salt by guess;
nor^work the butter into grease;
13. And finally; we do not send
our butter to market wrapped in -old
rags that may have Been other ser
vice in the home.
The English Wheat Crop.
According to Sir J. B. Lawes’ an
nual letter on the wheat crop, Eng
land this year has a poor yield of
light grain. The figures show an av
erage of twenty-five and seven-eighths
bushels per acre, weighing sixty
pounds per bushel; and the yield on
the 2,295,183 acres of wheat now
grown in the United Kingdom is, there
fore, less than 7,500,000 quarters.
After deducting two bushels per acre
for seed, the' quantity available for
consumption is less than 7,000,000
quarters.
The population being nearly 38,500,
000, and the annual consumption six
bushels per head, the quantity of
wheat required for the twelve
months ending next harvest will
be 28,750,000 quarters, 23,000,000
quarters of which will have to be pro
vided by stocks and imports; and
there is no doubt we shall get all we
require easily, since the stocks on
hand are enormous, while 6,400,000
quarters of American wheat now on
the water constitute the “visible”
supply, as against 3,680,000 quarters
t at this time last year.
* HHiasa fimiMS Wm Mil
. These figures are quite sufficient to
' aodnst for
and
or the low price of wheat,
while they assure the public of
.-nt v'
4vv'V.-V -
i •* tmi..vs - vyi.'.l
abundant bread, they deprive the
farmer of all hope of bet ter prices for
some time to come. Bo long as the
average production of wheat remains
in excess of average requirements, so
long will the price remain abnormally
depressed.—London Chronicle.
Best Cheese Cow. *
The Dairy Editor of Orange Judd
Farmers, in reply toaninquirysayshe
would take the Holstein and feed her
well.' This is saying nothing against
any other breed, in fact we can picture
special conditions where we should
not change to the Holstein if we al
ready had a herd of excellent butter
cows. But suppose we have a herd
of Jerseys giving 5 per cent milk. The
ordinary cheese maker will run too
much of this fat into the whey vat.
To save it the patrons will be under
heavy pressure to have it partly skim
med, and like telling your hired man
to drink whisky every day, but not
let the habit get the better
of him is the habit of skimming
milk for cheese-making. Then again,
the Holstein is already well developed
as a great milk producer. As to steer
calves, A. H. don’t intend to raise
steer calves on whey, as a business,
so he will work for milk production in
big, paying quantities. The dairying
that needs crutches is poor dairying;
the dairyman who “needs steer calves
to make his business pay” can’t keep
pace with the fellow who walks with
out them. Then for cheese—and with
out saying aught against any other
breed—we can recommend pure-bred
Holsteins, and the grades from best
common cows and a first-class Hols
tein male and think they will fill the
bill nicely.
How to Cure Hams.
Many hams, like cider vinegar, are
spoiled in the curing. A good brine
may be made as follows: Five pounds
of sugar to 200 pounds of meat, one
ounce of saltpetre to 20 pounds of
meat, one ounce of salt to every pound
of meat, and water to cover all the
hams packed in this brine. It should
be understood that the lower the
temperature the longer it takes to
cure them and in very cold winters the
temperature in the cellars for ordip
; ary pork-curing is so low that consid
erable time is required. *
After the hams have been well brin
ed they must be smoked for three
days, and if on cuttingit isfound that
the pickle has not reached all the way
through them, the brine can be boiled
over and skimmed. Pack the hams
away in a temperature of about 40°.
They should then be returned to the
smoke house for a day after the brine
has dried oil. A bitter taste will be
given to them if hung in the smoke
house wet with the bribe. To give tho
rich brown color so well known in
market hams, hang near a stove for
several days, and rub over thorough
ly with cotton cloth. Fine looking
and nicely flavored hams will thus be
secured.—Northwestern Agriculturist.
Benefits of Drainage.
It is never out of pluce nor a waste
of time or money to drain wet land.
Without proper drainare, there can
be *no surely successful agriculture.
In many cases too much dependence
is placed upon natural drainage. It
is doubtful if there is any soil that
can not be somewhat benefited by un
derdraining. If dry, the drains let in
the air, from which the cooler earth
attracts the moisture, to the benefit
of the crop; if wet, they furnish an
outlet for the surplus moisture, and
this _ also benefits the crop.
For it is an undeniable fact
that either too little or to much
moisture is injurious. If too little,
there is no circulation of water in the
soil and the plant not only suffers
from thirst but starves for want of
liquid containing available food; if too
weak in nutriment to furnish suffi
cient food, bo the plant literally both
drowns and starves, Hitherto very
little thought has been given to the
circulation of water in the soil; but it
is found that this is one of the most
important considerations in the grow
ing of a crop, and is receiving atten
tion.
farm Notes.
If you want eggs give your fowls
plenty of good, wholesome food. Suc
cessful poultrymen place much more
reliance in that than in patent egg
producing compounds. 30
If raising fowls for meat instead of
eggp, you want the large breeds and
those that grow rapidly. These will
require lots of food, but they will use
it to good advantage.
Too much heat in an incubator is
just as bad as too little. It should be
kept steady at 103 degrees. Practice
maintaining an even temperature be
fore you put the eggs in.
To learn any trade thoroughly re
quires^ study as well as 'practice—
head-work as well as hand-work. Our
boys shonld be taught that farming is
no exception to this rule.
If you have not already done so, it
would be well to examine your gran
ary now and make sure that it is rat
proof. It will not pay to hold erain
if the rodents have free access to it.
Millet is of very great value to the
dairyman, when properly grown and
harvested. In planning for next
season’s crops try and arrange for a
field of it. If you have no silo, this
will to some extent make amends in
the winter feeding.
One or two acres of well selected and
well cultivated fruits will go far to
ward supplying the ordinary house
hold expenses. A little land devoted
tor such purposes always makes an
appreciable addition to the eosh in
come, and win repay the labor needed
to secure it.
Every one elves It the hlewT'''l
GraJeJ, druggist, Walnut
Cincinnati, Usay. ,hl, ot“ “ **i
sell my share cf Dr. Hull s(Whs"*1!
my customer! that have me™? S
tloo speak of U In the h ghcTt^.*
Cannibalism is still practSirt i..
places in the world. . ' ™ '»*<
,tCan’1 bebeate.l Mr.TjTfTwiH. ,
Mound. III., writes: ‘‘I have I.1*1*’1
, tlun 0i> "“*> wonderful su,«,J'f‘
| bettL°e7t.” UaUll,in 10 W ^
|. .'rbe fi*«a «>«" • e ol sF^lora
blue, green and r,-d predominant
still Hrlcl.tand «oointy.
Jfany br ght and useful publican™,
round to us annually and fhe slch
Is aa refreshing and welcome as th,s k1
frl ends on New Year’s dar Unp
icatiou, always feiemostjs before^
lul of sound advice ami the reiW,^
fun, oilglnal and copyrighted jJmJ
pens tf such noted humoitsts .a ?,1!
Opic }• Head, Danbury® e^Va’a® ,^
“Is a free gift of the season,t1
I)rugg st’s ounti r, and w| u be 'ocr .J
as the highly popular 8t. Jacob’s Oil?■
i"'"?' an’> «’ <* of Health and f
1MU One special femme is the
of One Hundred Do lavs," open t„
contestants ths Retails ,(
t ciusalof the book will mo e fuwJ
1 ho Almanac is sent forth bv The t LS3
A. Vocrler Company, Biltimo-c »
prloiors of some oftlr (,0<t Inn*!,?
movt reliable medicinal preparation.1,
■ opy willle mailed to. ny .7,..,,
celj t of a 2-cent stamp b.- the abuts
Hundreds of wretched victinJ
poverty, attempted to parade in 1*1
don, but the police dispersed itj
with clubs.
There is more Catarrh in this section of*
country than all other diseases nut toras
and until the last few years was supiji
be Incurable. For a great manyyeVa
tors pronounced it a local disease and»
scribed local remedies, and by constant!! i,
ing to cure with local treatment, pvonuuil
it incurable. Science has proven catarrku.
be a constitutional disease, and theretonJI
quires constitutional treatment. Hall’s^
tarrh Cure, manufactured by F. J. ChenetlL
Co., Toledo, Ohio, is the only constituttoial
cure on the market. It is taken intenialiji
doses from 10 drops to a tcaspoonfnl. Iti*
directly on the blood and mucous surfaces/
the system. They offer one hundred Mb.
for any case It falls to cure. Send for *1
culars and testimonials. Address r
_ * F. J. CHENEY & CO., Toledo, Q I
t^TSold by Druggists, 75c.
The strongest telescope brings the ra
to an apparent diet: nee of 100 m les.
„ Baker's Nocweilan ColUnrM ,
Quickly relieves Uiroitt and lung dse.-istotodta
parts vigor *bd new life. Sold bj druggiiti.
Foker players go through life hulk
hand.
Chat. J. Bell of t’mnhn, iepresentingtki
old reliable State Mutual Uife Asturias
company, of Worcester. Mass., wantsgialfl
■ gents in every couutr. Write him. 1
Pennsylvania produces more clgarittal
any otter state in the Union.
bus’s medicine moves Ills ROW'S 1
Each l»ay. la order to b« healthy tlk b|
necessary. Cnree constipation, headache, ktdns |
and liver troubles and regulates th« atoiaadi
and bowels. Fries 50a and $1M, at all kasha
Five million pounds sterling is speutisj
Dually on whisky in Ireland.
Brommell’n Cough Drops.
UseBrummeU's Celebrated Cough Drops, Thai.
Ins have A. H. B.onesehdrop. Bold ereiyvban
In Shakespeare’s time wits, critics iti|
notjemeu were giv n sea s on the stage.
We eat loo much and lake too little eat-1
doi r exercise. This :s ihe fault <;i oat]
modern civilization. It is claimed Hull
Garfield Tet, a simple herb remedr, helttj
Nature lo overcome ti-ese abuses.
J. G. Peppard, Kansas City. Mft, li I
the only exclusive dealer in Grin]
Seeds in the west. He makes a specs j
alty of Milieu Cano, Clover and Ti»|
othy Seeds.
A LONG PROCESSION
of diseases start from a torpid liver and im
pure blood. Dr. Fierce’s Golden Medical D»
covery cure* every one of them. It prerrm
them, too. Take it, as you ought, when 1"
feel the first symptoms (languor, loss'*
petite, dullness, depression) and youll a™
yourself from something serious.
In building up needed flesh and strenfw
and to purify and enrich the blood, nottini
can equal the “Discovery.” Ituiv'go™*
the liver and kidneys, promotes all the bonny
functions, and brings back health and nfl*
For Dyspepsia, “ Liver Complaint, Bilious
ness, and au Scrofulous, Skin, and Scalp i
eases, it is tho only remedy that's
to benefit or cqie, in every case, or the mcwy
is refunded.' _
About Catarrh. 1 No matter what yonij
tried and found wanting, you can he cl**
with Dr. Sage’s Catarrh Remedy. Tbo P
prietors of this medicino agree to cure y™
or they’ll pay you 1600 in cash. _
Fresh Air and Exercise.
uet all that’s
possible of
both, if in ^
need of flesh ^
st re ngt h
and nerve
force. There's need,too, of plentJ
of fat-food.
Scott’s Emulsion
of Cod Liver Oil builds up A'5*1
and • strength quicker than any
other preparation known to sci
ence.
Scott's Emulsion is constantly ef
fecting Cure of Consumption,
Bronchitis and kindred discoses
where other methods fail.
Fwmrod by Bcott A Eowm. S. Y. All drawn*
.41 the of Kite " u
Captain Perkins, of the stea®*
Loosok. voyaging' between Hong*0 ‘
and Shanghai, witnessed during *
recent gales in that quarter the P
nomenon (which has often been °e'
cribed) of thousands of birds and 10
sects which hah got in the vortex
the storm and were driven hither *°
thither, apparently stunned and sens
less with the buffeting they hafl [*
eeived. Many of the birds fell 808
less on the deck and lay quite
while the insects, though alive s**®
to have lost the power to sting.