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THE SCUPPERNONCU
M« Ham I ’loirs to «tn« a son*
Alwun fle lulibly Hi itpiv'rnon*,
IV pride of all dr .Hour
It l* dr beblien of dr y*»r
When autumn time sn d-v gll* hero
An' squelches in vo motif
i So »*'« dor Is. no nice air round,
; A bands dare, er sort an' brown
Er plchanlnnlos’ ore*.
I love to lay along do vino
An' till myself plum up arid wine,
Bene* I do golden skies.
Dose washed-out grapes dat come by trail
I nrbber wants to see again,
Dl» sin t whar dey belongs.
IV Mark uns, too. I pass drm by.
I *e happy if I Jea’ kin lie
An' gabble scuppernongii
—New York Sun.
THE MISADVENTURES
■/ OF JOHN NICHOLSON.
a BY KOBERT 1.0PIN STEVENSON.
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CHAPTER I.
In Which John Sows the Wind.
John Varey Nicholson was stupid.
. J et much duller men have risen to
high places in the government; If he
had been of keener wit, moreover,
this story would never have been
written. His father, a stern and re
ligions gentleman, ruled him with a
firm htind and governed bis house
with majestic dignity.
Here was a family whore prayer*
came at the same hour, whoro the
Sabbath literature was unlmpoach
abiy selected, where the guest who
should have leaned to any false opin
ion was instantly set down, an<L over
which there reigned all week, and
grow censor on Sundays, a silence
that was agreeable to his ear, and a
gloom that ho found comfortable.
Mrs. Nicholson huddled about thir
ty. and left him with three children;
a daughter two years, and a son about
sight year* younger than John; and
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unrae infamous in English history.
Tho daughter. Marla, was a good girl
—dutiful, pious, dull, bat so easily
startled that to speak to her was
quite a peritou* enterprise. “I don’t
think I care to talk about that, if you
please,” she would say, and strike the
boldest speechless by her unmistaka
ble pain, this upon all topics—dress,
pleasure, morality, politics, in which
the formula was changed to '“my
pupa thinks otherwise,” and even re
liglon. unless it was approached with
a particular whining tone of voice.
Alexander, the younger brother, was
sickly, clever, fond of books and
dravvlng.and full of satirical remarks.
• In the midst of these, imagine that
natural, clumsy, unintelligent and
mirthful animal, John; mighty well
behaved in comparison with other
lads, although not up to the mark of
the house in Randolph Crescent; full
of a sort of blundering affection, full
Of caresses which were never very
warmly received; full of sudden and
loud laughter which rang out in that
still house like curses. Mr. Nichol
son, himself had a great fund of
humor, of the Scots order—intellec
tual, turning on tho observation of
men; his own character, for Instance
—If he could have seen it in another
—would have been a rare feast for
him; hut his son’s empty guffaws over
a broken plate, and empty, almost
light-hearted remarks, struck him
with pain as the Indices of a weak
mind.
Outside the family John had early
attached himself (much as a dog may
follow a marquis) to the steps of
Alan Houston, a lad about a year
aider than himself, idle, a trifle wild,
the heir to a good estate which was
still in the hands of a rigorous trustee,
ind so royally cpntent with himself
that he took John’s devotion as a
matter of course. The intimacy was
gall to Mr. Nicholson; it took his son
. from the house, and he was a jealous
parent; it kept him from the office,
and he was a martinet, *lastly, Mr.
Nicholson was ambitious for his fam
lly. (in which? and the disruption
principles, ho entirely lived) and he
hated to see a son of his play second
tiddler to an idler. After some hesi
tation, he ordered that tho friend
ship should cease—an unfair
.'ommand, though seemingly in
spired by the spirit of prophecy;
and John saying nothing
iug. continued to disobey the order
under the rose.
John was nearly nineteen whbn he
was one day dismissed rather earlier
than usual from his father’s office,
where he was studying the practice
jf the law. It waa Saturday; and ex
cept that he had a matter of £400
in hi* pocket which it was his duty to
hand over to tho British Linen com
pany’s bank, he had the whole after
noon at his disposal, lie went to
Prince’s street enjoying the mild sun
shine, and the little thrill of easterly
wind that tossed the flags along that
terrace of palaces, and tumbled the
green trees in the garden. The band
was playing down in the valley utider
the castle; and when it came to the
turn of the pipers, he heard their
wild sounds with a stirring of the
blood, (something distantly martial
woke in him; and he thought of Miss
Mackenzie, whom he was to meet
that day at dinner.
Now, it is undeniable that he should
have gone directly to the bank, but
fight in the way stood the billiard
room of the hotel where Alan was
almost certain to be found; and the
temptation proved too strong, lie
entered tbe billiard room, aud wai
instantly greeted by his friend, cue
in hand.
gi'
S'J.-i
is
< V.'lUll/iWUi M1U nr, "l WUUI you
!••.5 ‘to lendme a pound or two till Mon*
. day.*- '■* : - > .J
“You've come to the right shop,
haven't you?" returned John. “I
have twopence "
■ “Nonsense,’- f.aid Alan. “Tou
can get some. (V and borrow at
your tailor's; they all do it. Or I'll
tell you what; pop your watch."
“Ob, yes, I dare say." said John.
“And how about mi ft ‘v*r?”
A1
ulus
> J .
: 41^..
"llv# Is he to know? He doesn’
wind it up tor vot at night, does he?1
inquired Alan, at which Johi
guffawed. ♦•No. seriously; I am in a
fix," continued the tempter. huv«
lost some money to a inan here. I'l
give it you to-night, and you can gel
the heirloom out again on Monday
Come; it's a small service after all. J
would do a good deal more for you.'
Whereupon John went forth, and
pawned his gold watch under the as
sumed name of John Froggs, 8.» Pleas
ance. But the nervousness that as
sailed l\Jm at the door of that inglo
rious haunt—a pawnshop—and the
effort necessary to invent the pseu
donym (which, somehow seemed to
him a necessary part of the proce
dure), had taken more time than he
imagined; and when lie returned to
the billiard room with the spoils, the
bank had already closed its doors.
This was a ghrewd knock. **A
piece of business had been neglected.”
lie heard these words in his father's
trenchant voice, and trembled, and
then dodged the thought. After all,
who was to know? He must carry
ill00 about with him till Monday,
when the neglect could be surrepti
tiously repaired; and meanwhile, he
was free to pass the afternoon on the
encircling divan of the billiard room,
smoking his pipe, sipping a pint of
ale, and enjoying to the masthead the
modest pleasures of admiration.
None can admire like a young
man. Of all youth's passions and
pleasures, this is the most
eommon and least alloyed; and
every flash of Alan's black eyes; every
aspect of his curly head; every grace
ful reach, every easy, stand-ofT atti
tude of waiting; ay, and down to his
shirt sleeves and wrist links, were
seen by John through a luxurious
glory. He valued himself by the pos
session of that royal friend, hugged
himself upon the thought, and swam
in wurm azure; his own defects, like
vanquished difficulties, becoming
things on which to plume himself.
Only when he thought of Miss Mac
kenzie there fell upon his mind a
shadow of regret; that young lady
was worthy of better things than plain
John Nicholson, still known among
schoolmates by the derisive name of
“Fatty;” and he felt, if he could chalk
a cue, or stand at ease, with such a
careless grace as Alan, he could ap
proach the object of his sentiments
with a less crushing sense of infe
riority.
Before they parted, Alan made a
proposul that was startling in the
extreme ' Ho would bo at Colette’s
that night about twelve, he said.
Why should not John come there and
get the money? To go to Colette’s
was to see life, indeed; it was wrong;
it was against the laws; it partook,
in a very dingy manner, of adventure.
Were it known, it was the sort of ex
ploit that disconsidered a young man
for good with the more serious
classes, but gave him a standing with
the riotous. And yet Colette’s was
not a hell; it could not come, without
vaulting hyperbole, under the rubric
of a gilded saloon; and if it was a sin to
go there, the sin was merely local and
municipal. Colette (whose name I do
not know how to spell, for I was nev
er in epistolary communication with
that hospitable outlaw) was simply
an unlicensed publican, who gave
suppers after eleven at night, the
Edinburgh hour of closing. Jf you
belonged to a club, you could get a
much better supper at the same hour,
and lose not a jot in public esteem.
But if you lacked that qualification
and were an hungered, or inclined to
ward conviviality at unlawful hours,
Colette's was your only port. You
were very ill-supplied. The company
was not recruited from the senate or
the church, though the bar was very*
well represented on the only occasion
on which I flew in the face of my
country’s laws, and, taking my repu
tation in my hand, penetrated into
that grim supper-house. And Co
lette's frequenters, thrillingly con
scious of wrong-doing and “that two
handed engine (the policeman) at the
door,” were perhaps inclined to some
what feverish excess. But the place i
was in no sense a very bad one; and it |
is somewhat strange to me, at this
distance of time, how it had aequmnl I
its dangerous repute. j
In precisely the same spirit as a j
man may debate a project to ascend
the Matterhorn or to cross Africa, J
John considered Alan's proposal, and,
greatly daring, accepted it. As he
walked home, the thoughts of this
excursion out of the safe places of
life into the wild and arduous, stirred
and struggled in his imagination with
the image of Miss Mackenzie—incon
gruous and yet kindred thoughts, for
did not each imply unusual tighten
ing of the pegs of resolution? did not
each woo him forth and warn him
buck again into himself?
Between these two considerations,
at least, he was more than usually
moved; and when he got to Randolph
Crescent, he quite forgot the four
hundred pounds in the inner pocket
of his great coat, hung up the coat,
with its rich freight, upon his par
ticular pin of the hat stand; and in
l the very action scaled his doom.
j CHAPTER If.
j Iu Which John Reaps the Whirlwind.
About half past ten it was John's
bravo good fortune to offer his arm to
j Miss Mackenzie, and escort her dome.
Tiie night was chill and starry; all
the way eastward the trees of the
different gardens rustled and looked
black. I’p tiie stone gully of Leith
Walk, when thdj- came to cross it, the
breeze made a rush and sot the flames
of the street lamps quavering; and
when at last they had mounted to the
Royal Terrace, where Captain Mac
kenzie lived, a great salt freshness
came in their faces from the sea.
These phases cf the walk remained
written on John’s memory, each em
phasized by the touch of that light
i Aand on his arm; and behind ail thew
' aspects of the nocturnal city he saw
i In his mind's eye, a picture of thi
, lighted drawing-room at home when
i he had sat talking with Flora and hii
father, from the other end, had lookec
on with a kind and ironical smile
John had read the significance of that
smile, which might have escaped i
stranger. Mr. Nicholson had re
marked his son’s entanglement witl
satisfaction, tinged by humor; and hi;
'smile, if it still was a thought con'
temptuous, had implied consent.
At the captain's door the girl helc
out her hand, with a certain emphasis,
and John took it and kept it a little
longer and said, “Good-night, Flora,
dear," and was instantly thrown intc
much fear by his presumption. Bui
I she only laughed, ran up the steps,
and rang the bell; and while she was
waiting for the door to open, kept
close in the porch, and talked to him
from that point as out of a fortifica
tion. She had a knitted shawl over
her head; her blue Highland eyes
took the light from the neighboring
street lamp and sparkled, and when
the door opened and closed upon her
John felt cruelly alone.
He proceeded slowly back along the
terrace in a tender glow, and when
he came to Greenside church he halted
in a doubtful mind. Over the crown
of the Calton hill, to his left, lay the
way to Colette's, where Alan would
soon bo looking for his arrival, and
where he would now have no more
consented to go than he would have,
wilfully wallowed in a bog, the touch*
of the girl’s hand on his sleeve, and
the kindly light in his father’s eyes,
both loudly forbidding. ' But right
before him was the way home, which
pointed only to bed, a place of little
ease for one whose fancy was strung
to the lyrical pitch, and whose not
very ardent heart was just then
tumultuously moved. The hilltop,
the cool air of the night, the company
Of the great monuments, the sight of
the city under his feet, with its hills
and valleys and crossing files of lamps,
drew him by all he had of the poetic,
and he turned that way; and by that
quite innocent deflection ripened the
crop of his venal errors for the sickle
of destiny.
On a seat on the hill above Green
aide he sat for perhaps half an hour,
looking down upon the lamps of
Edinburgh, and up at the lamps' of
heaven. Wonderful were the resolves
he formed; beautiful and kindly were
the vistas of future life that sped be
fore him. He uttered to himself the
name of Flora in so many touching and
dramatic keys that he became at length
fairly melted with tenderness, and
could have sung aloud. At that
juncture a certain creasing in his
great-coat caught his ear. He put
his hand into his pocket, pulled
forth the envelope that held
the money, and sat stupifled. The
Calton Hill, about this period, had an
ill name of nights; and to be sitting
there with four hundred pounds that
did not belong to him was hardly
wise. He looked up. There was a man
in a very bad hat a little on ono side
of him, apparently looking at the
scenery: from a little on the other a
second night-walker was drawing
very quietly near. Up jumped John.
The envelope fell from his hands.
He stooped to get it, and at the same
moment both men rap in and closed
with him.
A little after lie got to his feet
very sore and shaken, the poorer by
a purse which contained exactly one
penny postage stamp, by a cambric
handerchief, and by the all-important
envelope.
[TO KB CONVINCED.]
Tbs Child and the Pigeons.
The father of a little child who died
at Macon, Ga., tells of the strange
action of three pet pigeons that be
longed to the deceased. Up to the
time of the child’s death the pigeons
had never been known to enter the
house, but on the day of her death
and after the body had been placed in
the coffin, two of the pigeons came
into the room where the corpse was
and looked at the child's face through
the glass in the cover. The pigeons
were frightened away by several
members of the family, and they
perched upon the sill, where they re
mained for the rest of the day. In
the afternoon the other pigeons en
tered the house and acted in the same
manner as the first two. The pigeons
would not leave the room until the
corpse was removed for burial.
Tlie Judgment Seat.
A high seat, called “Kursi,” is to
be found in the courtyard of all well
to-do houses in Cairo and other large
towns of the East. It is occupied by
the master of the house when decid
ing domestic affairs. Such seats are
never wanting in the courtyard of
the houses of the sheikhs, heads of
tribes, or of persons in authority.
The seat is placed in a shady part of
the court, ipid judgment is delivered
from it on all matters which are
brought for decision by the inhabit
j ants of the district, or by members of
I the tribe over which the master of
■ the house presides.
Sympathy. -
On the way home from the services
at the church little Milly was very
grave, so grave that her father final
ly asked her what was lhe mat
ter. .* i
“Oh!" she said. Pm so sorry Ur.
Wilson Ib not going to heaven.”
“Why,Mildred,what do you mean?”
“Well, she replied, the minister
said he was going to be taken to
Brooklyn."—Truth.
American Hardware.
In 1860 our product Of hardware
was valued at $100,000; in 1888 at
$070,000,000. The annual addition to
the output was $6,000,000 a year be
tween 1840 and 1860, and $86,000,000
a year between 1860 and 1888.
»! 1HE AGRICULTURAL WORLD
, PRACTICAL HINTS FOR INDUS
| TRIOUS FARMERS.
! Soma Suggestions For Starting
I Early Plants—The Medium Hog
1; —Consult the Soil—Protec
tion Against the Rats—
Items of Interest.
jti _ __ v
| For Startles Early Fleets.
If one docs not have a propagating
{jiousc he need not on that account go
without early plants, for a box in the
house or an easily constructed hotbed
will answer the purpose very satisfact
orily. Indeed many truck gardeners
who raise a considerable variety of
early vegetables, never have anything
more costly than the simplest kind of
hotbeds.
The early starting of plants in this
j way presupposes that It was thought
I of and provided for before whiter set
j in. It would not lie easy. In most cases,
i »t> obtain the proper kiud of soil or
compost at this season of the year,
and if no preparation has been mnde
the plant must be laid aside, unless
sonic one else, more provident, can sup
ply tlie necessary soil.
A good, light, sandy loam—the richer
and lighter the better—makes a good
enough soil. Before using it should be
! run through a sieve, so as to remove
! all stones, lumps and rubbish. A table
I spoonful of superphosphate to each half
bushel of soil may be added to ad
vantage, and five or six quarts of peat
moss, or sphagnum, such as nursery
men use for packing, thoroughly dried
and sifted, to the half bushel of soil
mtikes an excellent material for start
ing seeds.
. If it Is thought loo much labor to
make hotbeds, boxes about thirty
inches long, twelve inches wide and
three inches deep, made of half-inch
stuff, may be used in the house. These
may be placed on a flower stand or on
the window sill, where they should be
so secure that they will not be knocked
! ciT. Where a large number of plants
i Is not required, these boxes are all
that are necessary, and they are a
; source of pleasure and instruction, as
well as of mere utility, especially If
there are children in the family Old
enough to observe and assist.
A hotbed should. If possible, be placed
on tbe south side of a fence or build
ing, where it will be protected from the,
severe winds, and at the same time re
ceive the full benefit of the sun’s rays.
There are two ways of making it. One
is to place fermenting manure on the
surface of tbe ground, taking care to
build it up in an even, solid mass, with
the long and short manure equally
distributed, until it is from two feet
to thirty inches high. It should be
about two feet longer and wider than
the frame of the hotbed, as the center
will be hotter than the outside of the
mass. Another method is to dig a pit
two feet longer and wider than the
frame, fill it with the manure and
tread It down evenly and solidly.
A convenient size for the sash is i>x6
feet. The frames should be made of
two-inch plank, the back twelye and
the front eight inches wide, which al
lows sufficient slow to carry off water
from the sash. The sides should, of
course, lie planed down to flt the two
cuds, and the hack and front pieces
beveled off, so that the sash will fit
closely at the ends and sides. A single
brace across the middle of the frame,
tlie short way. Is enough to make It
firm. If two-inch lumber Is used.
The soil may be put into the frame
as soon ns it is in place. Six or eight
Inches of sdll is better than a shallower
bed, as when once heated through It
will retain the heat longer, and the
plants will be less likely to bum than
if in closer contact with the hot man
ure. Seeds should not be sown for at
least a week after the beds begin to
heat. Meantime the weeds and grass
will sprout and may be removed be
fpre the seed is put In.
A good deal of care and experience
is required to regulate a hottJRl. It
must he guarded against both heat and
cold and overheating—the former by
covering with boards or mats at night,
the latter by proper ventilation when
the sun shines brightly. But it will
repay all the trouble it costs if success
fully managed.
The Medium Hoar.
At the recent meeting of the Indiana
Swine Breeders’ assoeiati >u John W.
Wilson made the following points In
favor of the medium hog: First, he is
just the hog the packers and butchers
want. Second, his early maturity en
ables him to be marketed between two
winters, saving an expense that
amounts to at least ten bushels of com
per head. When we practiced winter
ing our hogs we estimated that It would
take ten bushels of com per head to
winter slioats that wen; farrowed in
March or April, and thought we were
dnihg well if we had u gain or growth
of :io pounds, which, with com worth
to ort cents per bushel, would be
very profitable iiork. Third, I believe
them to be mom prolific and their act
ive, spry disposition makes them more
careful and better mothers, which Is
an item of great profit. In raising nogs
some sows are fed the entire year to
raise half the brood, or In other words
you are compelled to feed twelve or
fifteen sows the entire year to produce
fifty pigs, when seven or eight sows
would have produced the entire num
ber required; besides It requires much
less feed to winter sows of medium
size. Again the medium hog Is tlie best
grazer. I have often noticed the active,
spry medium hog feeding about over
tlie grass fields, making imunds of
cheap pork to add to the profits, while
the larger.rough dull, sluggish fellow lies
in the fence comer, under seine shrub
or beside some stack, allowing the flies
to eat him up. Cue other thing that i
makes the larger liog not so profitable
is the sit,* he is required to make be
fore he is ready for market. According
to _our best uutlmritii*s, ill** experiment
stations, there is an iucrease of cost in
producing tlie second hundred pounds
as compared with the first kundred
pounds, also the third to the second.
Dehorn lac (he Com*.
The Practical Farmer was asked why
it does not have more to say about the
dehorning of cows, and its effects upon
the dairy, and the reply was this: That
it is a matter that must he decided
more largely from the local standpoint
of the individual farmer than by any
' • ....
-i- >
published rules of cause and effect
The late utterances of Prof. Henry
will do much to make the dairyman
think that It will be the best thing that
he can do to dehorn the cows, and es
pecially the bulls, as the professor’s
evidence is favorable, though rather
on the side of the question that, as It
does not seem to do any Injury, it can
not be said that it is otherwise than
of some benefit. The matter is some
thing like this, if one wants to bunch a
lot of cattle, and economise space, ana
render Qgtn docile, tile argument Is
on the side of dehorning. That it is
decidedly cruel is hardly to be sus
tained, as in our opinion the fright of
making them secure so that the saw
can be made to do quick work, is the
most serious thing. That not one dairy
in ten shrinks much, if any, in milk,
following the operation, is quite an
argument in its favor. The looks of the
cows before and after taking the saw,
is for the owner to decide about The
whole matter Js summed up in this:
Will the cows be more quiet better
disposed toward each other, and be
less liable to cause injury to persons
and things, and if all this is to be an
swered yes, then the saw will keep on
in the way that its advocates insist
that is the only humane course, drop
ping of a useless member that has in
this later day no-place in the stable or
farm, add cause a cessation of much in
jury that would not otherwise be but
for the wicked horns. This is patent
where a man owns a herd, part of
th?m dehorned, and part not. He will
soon be forced to dehorn all, as a
means of safety to the rest, which,
in fact, gives the whole argument to
the advocates of dehorning. As to the
dehorning of breeding stock, especial
ly bulls, and its effects on tbe offspring,
is a matter too deep for the farmer to
master, and is better left in the bands
of the savants, who are paid by the
year for looking such things up, and bo
guided by their reports.
Protection Against Rats.
According to information promulgat
ed by tbe Wisconsin experiment sta
tion, the surest safeguard of the silo
against rats is to cover the bottom with
a layer of small stones or grout before
the cement is applied. When, it is said,
the cement is applied directly upon the
ground- the uctibn of the acids soon
softens it to such an extent as to per-,
mit the rats to penetrate it without
difficulty. As the holes made by these
animals in burrowing under the found
ations and up into the chamber admit
air into the silo, and so cause great in
jury to the stored fodder, it is very de
sirable that in some way they should
be prevented from effecting an en
trance. The method described above
is one way of accomplishing the de
sired result.
Another and, perhaps, even better
way is this: It is not generally known—
or at least not generally observed—
that rats in burrowing under a founda
tion wall always keep close to the wall,
and when they meet an obstacle they
do not work around it, but ascend to
tbe surface and begin again. Taking
advantage of this habit, it is only neces
sary to extend the lower course of
stone or brick a little distance beyond
the rest of the wall, and bis ratship will
he effectually baffled in his efforts to
burrow under the foundation.
Cunlt tke Soli.
At present prices of cereals and the
low priee often obtained for potatoes,
etc,. I doubt whether it would pay to
purchase complete plant foods at fun
commercial rates for the purpose of
using them In the production of these’
ordinary crops. It will usually pay to
purchase a single substance of plant
food, such as phosphoric acid in super
phosphates or phosphates, or potash in
potash salts, when such single plant
food is lacking In a soil provided with
aU others in sufficient quantities. Such
conditions are not unusual. We find
them where crops using one certain
kind of plant food much faster than the
others are grown for many years to the
exclusion of other crops.
Wheat, oats. etc., for Instance, use tip
phosphoric acid faster than any other
plant food elements, and many fruit
crops, etc., live especially on potash.
Continued, one-sided cropping, there
fore, may result In exhausting the soil
of a single kind of plant food, and
when that Is the case, the application of
Just that kind of plant food will be like
ly to help make the soil again product
ive. One of the first tasks of the prog
ressive farmer is to find out, by judging
from the antecedents of each piece of
land, or'from planting tests, flic true
condition of tlic soil, and then to apply
the needed plant food.—Practical
Farmer.
Item* of laierrat.
Try high feeding with old Bi-indle.
There have been some remarkable
yields made by very common cows.
A good horse can no move stand on
bad feet than a good house can stand
on a bad foundation.
Perhaps your old Brindle has never !
had a full ration In her life. Not that '
she has been half fed, but that she has i
not been experimented with to And out I
how much she could eat. I
In feeding a cow we must go about!
It cautiously; not stuff her with all she I
can eat the first week, but train her
appetite and digestion by gradually,
increasing, the amount fed.
If you have a cow that always excels
the others in yield breed her to a pure
bred dairy bull, and if she has a heifer j
calf treat that calf better than you
ever treated a calf before. j
* There are some very prepotent good !
cows among the scrubs; they transmit
their good qualities to their calves in
spite of the scrub bull by whiuh they
are served. These cows should be
tested by high feeding.
In all road making, the first matter of
importance Is to procure good drainage.
All attempts at permanent Improve
ment will be futile unless this is ob
served at the start. Prom what we
have seeu In some of our Journeyiugs
we are afraid that some road masters
do not give sufficient attention to this.
A writer in the English Breeders'
ftasctte says that on the continent the
battle of short, thick, heavy-shouldered
and fat Jowled pis* versus the tong,
deep-sided, heavy htud-quurlered and
jowled pigs ts being vigorously fought
and he adds the opinion that the vic
tory in favor of the latter style of nig
is wore pronounced than at any rue
rlons period
*■'»««• TIM., .
Ih» Mr «f Ut
•*
ttmh im »_
Si*-* fit
•r«y jwmibl. puTT h- *
sgiss£«g»
Col« J. J. Dickpv r*
Manager of the (vert^? ^
g»»ph Company, is he£ withT
kyle Dickey, the ejrt*nJ^ . **
man of Omaha. 118176
““fr Lumbermen (W
?°^andV ml*° of Omaha, uTJ
5“ b?eB *°r several days/ TuS
bur, lumber trade is immen*?
prospective building, for
which has already ^ ^
ccwing the attention of“
dealers m the country
^Mr. Frank Haven is fo GoUnd
naakin, a careful study of thed
wrth a view to manufacturing
A chemical analysis of the
shown it eminently satisfactory
Cheap power is attracting
xacturers from every direction
Laat year there was shippedb
point over 300 tons of brJom”
gentleman by the name of CU
Cutter is here from Boston to a
building for a large broom fact
archjte,:ts a>* m Goth
looking: tor a business they c™
m the metropolis.
Col. Charles L. Wortham fro
cago has been here several da
ing the clays in this vicinity (
burg will pave with vitrified
His report is awaited with grei
me Gothenburg Commercial (
receives over 100 letters a dav id
Secretary, Mr. K. K. Kennan, rq
by personal letter to each inquiry]
ing detailed information. A m
answer will be sent to all letters 1
iny about the town, water pose
surrounding' country.
Mr. A. H. Hadfield of Mitsdi
Vice-President of the Gotha)
Water Power and Investment (
pany, arrived in town yesterday
is arranging for new and eitu
improvements in the canal, a
power and Lake Helen Park.
The greatest need of Gothenbaij
| a 150-room hotel.
While houses in the large eitht
the State pay 3 per cent abort a
interest and* repairs here fifty i
dencea could be rented at from il
15 per cent above charges.
A number of Green's farmers a
sionists stopped off here on the I
and are still m town. The whole
cursion will lay over here to-ms
on their return from their visit ts
irrigating lands in Cheyenne Cm
Green’s next excursion will hs
April 4 and will start from Omsk,
Joseph, Mo., and Sioux City, h
Mr. Green makes a one fare rate I
any place on the Union Pacific I
way. For information or ticket!
ply to W. H. Green, KarbcchB
Omaha, Neb. ,
Mr. Green regularly runs the*
cursions to Cheyenne County, *
bnt the rush to Gothenburg ha
duced him to run to this place will
above very low rate.
9 Sure Enough. v
’ The Philadelphia Press tellss|
story of Gen. Shermsn'a son Tbs
now known as Father Sherman.,
the company of a detachment oi
diers he was crossing the pontoon h
over the Potomac when the simian
on their way to Washington for*
great review in 1865.
The boy was then about 8 y*M»
One of the men, to make talk, *
him if he expected to grownpnsi
a man as his father.
“No, sir,” answered the boy,'
surprising promptness.
“Why not?” was the next qnesu
“Well," said Thomas, wimow
tation, “there are plenty of otto
who have grown up, and why am
as smart as my father?” ,
"The anti-Pinkerton ~biiT has pi
the Pennsylvania house.
THE WOMAN WBOjjfl
and is tired, wffl
unecial help
‘pi-#,
icription.
tiou of the flJJJ
tem. ItproBwfJ1
natural
builds up, «*■
regulates, a»»
For women *f
»nen y|
in* conflnemPj]
• —tbers, a*11
jng mother*,
weak, run-do«.
1_it Ml
m viior»®K’,“gI
took; that’s peculiarly adaptsa
WBut ttt bop* than that. 'JSl
maraaM remoayi for sn**^ ^
aisturbaacss, painful disorders,.
weaknesses of womanhood-^^^
complaints” of every
beanBg-down asnaatiom,
tioo, and kindred ailmente,» -
to benefit op oura, you h»»» '
book.
Something aba that pay* tba*d*{!l
may bo offered aa “ Just aa go^
it is, for Mm, but it can’t be,
A highly exciting wild
place at Will’s Cove, about ^j
southwesaof Livingston, ^
cat, which was of gigantic
was seen about 9 o’clock in tu ,
by Mrs. Uabriel Johnson ana
daughters, and they
three large greyhounds on it
iiual ran for some distance■
finally treed by the dogs. a°®
ladies summoned up the con *
a double-barreled gun
«d *5-f
monster. Her bravery "'as •;-fK
l*y the sight of the animal {* , ji l
a l . i i)_♦ ranDT*
from
gun.
success
o* me buil»— , a
the tree at the first rep” ,
The- ladies are pro*”1