I
A
-A
rfc
THE ADVERTISER.
Subscription, $2.00 per Year, in Adtancf.
OFFICIAL l'AIT.K OF THK COVA'Tt
LIVE IT DOWN.
niw your Hfo 11 bitter sorrow?
LI volt down.
Think about u bright to-morrow
Llvo it down.
You will find 11 novcr piiyn
Just to Bit wct-oyed und kiizo
On tho grnvo of vanished days
Li volt down.
Is disgrace your gulling burden?
Llvo it down.
Ton eim win nbruvo heart's guerdon
Live it down.
Muko your Hfo ho free from blaino
That tho lmter of your liuino
Shall hldo all tho olden auumu
Llvo It down.
Has your heart a secret trouble?
Llvo It down.
Do not griovo and make It doublo
Llvo It down.
Ho not water It with tears,
T)o not feed It with your fears,
Do not nurso It thro long years
Llvo it down.
Iliivo you niado some sinful error?
Llvo It down.
Do not hldo your face in terror
Llvo it down.
Look tho world miunro in tho eyes,
Go ahead, aH ono who tries
To bo honored, ore ho dies
Llvo it down.
KUa WhcsUr, in Chicago Exprc.
HUE AD UPON THE WATERS.
In an open spring wagon ono beauti
ful niornyig in Juno two women were
driving slowly along a lonely road which
wounu by the .sea. One was much
younger than tho other, with a gentlo
sweet face, and earnest, brown eyes.
Thoro was about her an air of refine
ment and culture which her companion
sadly lacked. She appeared absorbed
in watching tho over-restless sen; but as
the wagon turned a, .sudden bend in tho
road, her gaze was attracted by an old
house which stood some distance from
the shore, and she uttered an exclama
tion of delight.
'How beautiful!" she said; "and yet
how lonely and desolate. Does any ono
live there, Mrs. Mount?"
"Yes," was the answer, " Mrs. Gran-
ger lives there, but she's crazy. No
ody visits Iter, and she visits nobody."
"How sad!" said the younger woman.
" Ono would imagine that living in such
a spot as this, with, no sound save that of
the breaking of tho waves to disturb tho
silence, tho mind might grow calm."
The house was built of gray stone, and
showed tho marks of tho many wild
storms which had beaten upon it. Over
the greater portion of it crept the heavy
trailing ivy, in which wild birds had
built their nests. Tho graud stone steps
before the door were covered with vines.
Several of the. shutters, torn from their
hinges, lay where they had fallen,
ami over them, too, was creeping tho
heavv ivy, which threatened to encom
pass everything. The chimneys were
tfrokon, cornice and column wore warped
and split, and tho massive wood-work
about doors and windows was old and
worm-eaten. Tho grounds about it
A were an intricate tangle of brushwood.
Flowering shrubs, which had been
planted here and there, had grown from
lack of attention and pruning, into wild
and unshapely trees. Rosebushes,
blooming luxuriously in red, white and
yellow, grew in every direction; and
wild vines and unsightly weeds choked
up the paths. Tho gates and fences
were broken and dilapidated, and about
tho whole place there was a look of such
ruin and decay that gentlo little Mrs.
Anion's heart ached as she looked upon
it. It seemed to her that this lonely,
deserted place had a story to tell; :t
story full of litimuu love, heart-break
and disappointment, and, with her face
full of interest, she asked Mrs. Blount if
she knew what had driven Mrs. Granger
mad.
"Oh, I don't know that she's what
you ought to call downright mad," was
the answer; " but she's overlastin' pe
culiar, that's sure. You seo, ten years
ago she eamo down hero with her hus
band and two children to pass the sum
mer. Her husband bought this house
and fitted it tip as lino as a fiddle, an'
they calculated on a lino time, but they
hadn't been settled more'n two weeks
when the trouble came. Mr. Grauger
and the two children wont out in a boat
ami was all drowned. Tho body of the
-A little girl was tho only ono that eamo
ashore. Thoy never found tho others.
Folks say that. Mrs. Granger stood on
the beach watchin' for 'om, when somo
men came up with tho little girl's body.
She carried it herself to tho house and
shot herself uj), refusiu' to seo a soul.
She's never lelt tho house since, except
to walk to tho beach or to the child's
grave. Thoy say she sits on that grave
tor hours atu time."
" And does no ono go to see her? Has
no effort to comfort nor Geen made?"
asked Mrs. Arden, whoso warm heart
was deeply touched at this story of a
sistor's.so.rrow.
"Oh, folks did go at iirst," replied
Mrs. Blount. "Sho'd no lack o' oom
p'ny. 'Bout everybody in tho village
called an' tried to show her that her
trouble was all for tho best, and was
meant to turn her triluin1 heart to
Heaven, but she never said nothiu' in
answer. Sho sat liko a stun, an' if sho
heard sho didn't let on. After a time
she wouldn't seo anybody, and of course
people stopped goin' there.
" Poor soul!" murmured Mrs. Arden.
"O, what should be without my dear
husband and my child?" and sho sprang
out of tho wagon as It stopped before a
largo, comfortable house in tho village,
and caught in hor arms a little golden
haired girl who ran to meet hor.
Mrs. Blount took boarders In tho
summer, being a thrifty woman, and
anxious to turn an honest penny. Mrs.
Ardon had come to hor a week previous,
and was enthusiastic over tho dollghts
of the little seaboard town. Sho was
out with Elllo walking on tho sands, or
climbing over tho rocks all day long,
secerning never to tiro of tho music of
the sea.
Tho day after her drive with Mrs.
Blount, sho took her child by tho hand
and started out for a longer walk than
usual. She wanted to look again at tho
old house by tho sea, whoro dwolt tho
woman who had lost beneath its relent
less waves all that had nnulo Hfo sweot
to her.
Leaving Elllo to play on tho sand by
tho shore, Mrs. Arden walked toward
the house, and, after somo hesitation,
entered tho neglected garden. All was
silent. There was no sign of life among
tho trees whero the wild birds ilew from
branch to branch.
Seeing a path that had evidently boon
much trodden, Mrs. Arden turned into
it, wondering whero it led; to some
rustic seat, perhaps, whero she could
rest after her long walk.
She started a little, and gave a ouiok
sigh as sho eamo suddenly upon a little
grave under a cedar trco; a child's
grave, tufted thick with purple pansies,
and dressed hero and thoro with snowy,
daisies. Sho needed not to bo told what
child lay there; her warm, mother's
heart told her that.
A quick step sounded on tho path be
hind her, and she sprang to her feet to
seo a woman approaching, whom sho
know at onco could bo no other than
Mrs. Granger. Sho was a woman at
middle-age, tall and straight as an ar-
row
with large, deep gray eyes, 'and
uaiK nun iiui'iviv-Biiiiiiiviuii wiui finvj.
....i- l...:.. .l.i. .! ........ ......i. ...
.... rv - .-.
-sprinkled
Her features were regular, and sho
must at one time have been very beauti
ful, but now her face was liko marble in
its perfect repose. Thore was no
warmth in cheek or lip, but thore wore
lines about tho mouth that told of past
tempests.
"What arc you doing hero?" sho ex
claimed, in a quick, excited way. " It
is my grave; you have no right to in
trude upon it."
" 1 came upon it by tho merest acci
dent," apologized Mrs. Arden. " I in
tended no intrusion. But I am not sorry
1 came, for it is so beautiful." And
then with a sudden impulse she eould
not resist, she
caught
Mrs.
Granger's
hand in both of hers,
saying,
with sob-
bing breath:
O, how I pity you
ITow I would
iclp you if I only know how; if I only
could. You have sufVured so!"
Mrs. Granger drew her hand away,
and turned her head aside, as she said,
in a cold voice, made bitter by suffer
ing: " I want no help, no sympathy.
Words like yours arc false and hollow.
What can you feel for one who is a
stranger to you. Go. 1 would nitlmr
bo alone."
She was looking down toward tho
beach, where the groat waves were
tumbling and tossing upon the rocks,
looking far out over the green waters
with their fleecy crowns of foam. But
suddenly she started violently, and a
great change passed over her face.
She put her hand over her oyes, as if to
shut out somo sight that pained her;
somo phantom of the past that rose up
to torture her. Mrs. Ardon looked in
tho same direction, wondering at this
change, and saw Eflio coming up tho
path, her hands full of shells, and her
golden hair falling closely over her
bare shoulders.
"Mamma, mamma," sho called in
her childish treble, " where are you?"
Before Mrs. Ardon could answer,
Mrs. Granger sprang forward with a
faint cry, and threw herself at tho
child's feet, holding out her arms
pleadingly, a hungry, yearning look in
her face, and agony of love inner glow
ing oyes.
But instead ,of running into tho
stranger's outstretched arms, Elllo
drew back with a cry of alarm, and
Mrs. Granger rose instantly to her feet,
shuddering as if with a suilden chill.
" Not. mine!" she said, in a despair
ing, wailing voice. "Ho! ho! mine is
dead! dead! Even hor spirit can never
conio back to mo." And she throw her
self prone on tho ground, hiding her
face in her arms.
For a moment Mrs. Arden stood si
lent and motionless, not knowing what
courso to pursue. Then she whispered
to Eflle, and tho child, early taught un
questioning obedience, went to tho pros
trate woman, knelt beside her, ami
winding her little arms about her nock,
kissed her softly on tho cheek.
The long, unfelt caress, a child's in
nocent, gentlo kiss, accomplished what
nothing else had done. Tho barrier of
distrust and hatred in that isolated wom
an's heart broke down; the fountain of
tears so long sealed opened at last, and
with a cry of joy and relief, Mrs. Granger
clasped tho little girl in her arms, and
wept until she was utterly exhausted.
Then still holding Elllo close, sho ap
proached Mrs. Arden.
" Forgive mo if I havo been rudo to
you," she said; "my grief has made mo
callous to tho world's opinion. Is this
your child?"
"My only one;" answered Mrs. Ar
den. "She is so liko mine; my little Wini
fred. Tho same eye3 and hair; tho same
expression. I believed at first that it
was my own darling eomo back to mo,"
and sho sighed heavily.
" Wo must go now; it is sovcral miles
to tho village," said Mrs. Arden, seeing
how exhausted Mrs. Granger appeared
" But may wo not come again?"
" Yos, come to-morrow; any day
ovory day," was the answer.
Mrs. Arden thanked hor and wont
away. But sho froqurnUv looked back,
and always to seo Mrs. Grangor stand
ing still by the little grave, hor yes
looking seaward.
That evening its the stm was sinking
In tho west and the sky was glorious
with many-colored clouds, Mrs.
Granger, wrapped closely in a thick,
black shawl, eamo out of the door of
tho old house and took the path to tho
boach. She walked there until tho sun
set had burned low in the red west,
thinking of the past, of tho barriers sho
had raised in hor breast ngninst all man
kind, broken down to-day by tho touch
of a child's soft lips on her cheek. Sho
thought of her happy and brilliant
youth, of its grand hopes and promises,
nnd of tho devotion to her of husband
and children. Hero where she walked
lonely and desolate now they had onco
walked witli her, hand in' hand; to
gether beheld tho waters glowing in tho
early tints of sunrise mid reflecting tho
gorgeous splendors of snnsef, and shim
mering and rippling in the light of the
moonbeams, llere she had stood, too,
when her child was brought to her, tho
sweot, blue eyes closed forever, the face
marble white and cold in a terrible re
pose, tho yellow hair dripping with the
water of the pitiless sea. which hnd
stolen tho dear life from the mother
who had so fondly cherished It.
Of tho wild tempest which had tossed
hor soul at this time she dreaded to
think ovon now. It had been so near
to madness that it was a terror to her
yet,
Never since that time, now ten I
years, had sho left, exeunt for her lone
Iv walks, the old, gray house. She had
sliut herself up like a hermit, and with
wild and bitter grief, cursed herself and
her God. Down Into the deepest gloom
of despair sho went, where never a sin
gle ray of heavenly light and comfort
reached hor. Sho brooded continually
upon the darkness of hor fate, and sank
upon me uaiKuess ui nor uuo, ana s
into deeper depths of despair witli e
day that passed. Though she had yi
ly covered hor child's grave witli pui
very
year
ly covered hor child s grave with purple
pansies and snowy daisies, no blossoms
of hone or faith hat
ever snruinr
up in
hor own heart. Winter and .summer she
0
hud staid shut up in the desolate old
house, listening to the moaning of the
sea, morbidly nursing her rebellion
against tho Hand which had stricken
her, and brooding over the fact that her
loved ones could return to her no more.
She emerged from her retirement only
to look at the little grave beneath the
cedar tree, purple in summer with tho
beautiful pansies, white in winter with
its drapery of snow.
But now light had entered in on tho
darkness which had enshrouded her. A
new hope had blossomed in her desolate
heart, Softer feelings had taken
:en pos
with a
session of her, and she longed
longing that was almost pain, to soe
again tho gentlo woman and the lovely
child who had worked this miracle.
That night sho slept undisturbed by the
phantom of the past, which for .-o long
had made darkness a terror to her.
Mrs. Arden and EHie eamo earl the
naxt day, and wcro receive by Mrs.
Granger in a room which had grown
moldy with disease and neglect. But
tho windows were open, and tho .Tune
sunshine poured in unrestrained by lat
tice or curtain.
Eflio climbed into Mrs. Granger's lap
and fell asleep there, one dimpltyl hand
clasped in that of her now friend.
" To think that?)! i children can never,
nyver return to me,v' said Mrs. Granger,
Iwnding her head to kiss the little one
sleeping on hor breast.
"Thoy shall not return to you, but
you shall go to them," said Mrs. Arden,
softly. "Let that comfort you."
"I havo found neither comfort nor
consolation in religion," the other an
swered. "I cannot believe as you do,
that T shall meet my loved ones in a
better land. Why were they taken from
mo?"
" You must not ask that question,"
said Mrs. Arden; "you must feci that
God in His wisdom know best."
"Ah, how can I beliovo tho Gpdgood
who could so desolate my lifeP"
Her voice was tenso and low, and a
rigid, white look had settled on her
face.
"Believo me, God is ever good.
Whom Ho loveth He chustcneth, said
Mrs. Arden, softly; and then she went
on to speak of the comfort and oonsolu
tion found in perfect faith; of the prom
ises hold out to those who mourn; of
tho blessed reunion with the loved ones
who havo gone before, when this transi
tory life is over. So earnestly, so olo-
quently, so tenderly did she speak, that
before sho had concluded, the woman
whose heart had been stone for so many
years, was weeping, weeping with pas
sionate sobs, like a little child.
All through tho summer Mrs. Arden
w:is an almost daily visitor at tho old,
gray house by the sea. Mrs. Blount '
wondered and the village gossipped, but
tho little woman went her way unheed
ing, fooling that in that old houso she
hail found the groat work of her life.
Sho cast her bread upon tho waters
with no thought of its ever
her.
returning to
When autumn eamo .sho returned to
her homo in the city, leaving Mrs.
Granger calm and content, and deeply
interested in various plans for the
amelioration of the condition of tho
families of the poor sailors of the vll
lago. Sho still mourned for hor dead,
but not with a grief that knew neither
hope nor comfort.
Three years passed away, and troubles
groat and terrible fell upon gentle Mrs.
Arden. Her noblo young husband was
brought homo dead to hor ono day, and
sho was loft not only widowed, but
penniless. Thoro was scarcely enough
money laid by to defray tho expanses of
the funoral, und sho had not a relative
to whom sho could apply for aid. How
should sho earn a support for herself
nnd child? How make a homo for hor
darling Eflio? She was thinking of
these things, and of how suddenly tho
world httdgrown dark and drear for
hor, when r,ho heard tho door of tho
room In vhich sho sat open aoftfy.
Somo ono entered and came swiftly
toward her; some one clasped her In ft.
warm and loving embrace, and a voleo
she had onco Known and loved whis
pered: "Three years ago you eamo to mo
when I needed you most; now 1 hnvo
come to you. lliavo enough for both,
and as sisters we will share it."
Mrs. Grauger had read of Henry Ar
den's death in the daily paper, and
knowing that his limited salary was tho
solo support of his family, sho had hur
ried to the city to oll'er the aid sho was
so happy to bo able to give. Sho car
ried Mrs. Allien and Klllo buck with her
to tho old gray house by the sea, and
miido them feel as if it was, indeed, their
rightful home.
And there, busy with sweet charities
they dwelt, ami tho bread Mrs. Arden
had cast upon tho water returned to
her again a hundred fold. Golden Hula.
Thinking on the Farm.
A writer In the J'armtrt lleview
sharply, yet justly, criticises farmers for
their lack of Intelligent thinking. Wo
so thoroughly believe that there should
be a great deal of thinking on the farm
that wo present his idea to our readers
"It 14 umnmvlint. dlii'tii'latiur tlmt ttntn
who aro seemingly methodical about
matters ol another Kind have so little
method in their system of fanning.
They seem to give it but little thought.
They plant corn in this Held, and sow
wheat in that one, simply because It Is
most convenient to do so, not because
these fields havo any special adaptation
for tho crops they attempt to raise from
them. If they were to engage in mer
cantile business they would quite natu
rally look at each transaction from dif
ferent standpoints. Thoy would con
sider well before making purchases.
Thoy would aim to purchase of reliable
turtles and where thoy eould buy to the
jest advantage. They would consider
well, before buying, the needs and de
mands of their customers. They would
endeavor to buy only in such quantities
as would meet the requirements of tho
case. They would exercise prudence
and caution, and nothing would bo doho
thoughtlessly. With most farmers it
seems to be a very different thing in
their way of conducting affair. Thoy
are fanners who work without trying to
bring the. same faculties to their assist
ance which they would call into use if
they were to embark in any other enter
prise. They seem to work instinctively
rather than intelligently.
14 1 have too much regard for tho
farmer to bo willing to seo him go on in
this mechanical way. He ought rtot to
consider that others who have gone be
fore him havo thought out all the prob
lems of tho business, There is thinking
for each one to do. They are not in a
groove, though, from tho manner in
which most farming is carried on, tho
most farmers seem to take it for granted
that they arc. Such men as Jphuson
and Furnas, and scores of others, who
have thought over their work, who havo
broken loose from the cut and dried sys
tem, and havo worked intelligently and
brought tho wisdom of common sense
and good judgment to their assistance,
ought to prove to those not accustomed
to think much about their farm work
that it pays to do so.
" I would not be severe in my stric
tures on. the farming class, but a good
deal of close observation has convinced
me -that no other men aro so little given
to using brains in their business. They
lot others think for them, and when
others have thought for them they arc
too slow about using tho thought to
any practical purpose. The scientific!
aspect of farming seems to havo but
little attraction for them. If they could
be made to realize that in an intelligent
knowledge of tho science of tho soil
and of the productions it gives them
lies a vast amount of benefit thoy would
not skip tho 'scientific corner' of tho
agricultural paper, as so many do. To
grow crops intelligently and profitably
requires a knowledge of tho soil and
what it is capable of producing, and of
tho nature and needs of different plants.
Until wo understand this wo aro in a
great measure working on a kind of
"hearsay" system. We don't want to
plant corn on sward ground simply be
cause our fathers did, but wo want to
i v" . .'
i ,,; ,
I , nn i
understand why it is advisable to do so.
t want to do anything about tno
because it is customary to do so,
but because intelligent thinking bus
convinced us that it is the proper thing
to do after considering the qualifications
of the soil and the requirements of the
crop wo plant. Wo want to know what
our farms lack and how to supply that
lack. Wo want to look at the muttyr
from all sides, as the merchant docs, and
not ' go it blind.
Chicken Cholera.
When fowls do not have, access to
sharp gravel or coarse sand, being fed
too much whole corn will sometimes
produce cholera. Now damp corn, or
grass which has become succulent after
protract I'd rains, if fed mostly to fowls,
will produce cholera. Tho gas from
fermented manure piles will cause it.
If fowls drink filthy, stagnant water for
a length of time, it will produce it.
Wheat screenings containing much
smut will got fowls out of condition, il
it will not produce cholera. Some
times when too many potatoes aro used
with cornmeal and wheat bran dough,
cholera will be produced. In using po
tatoes uild u tublespoonfui ouch of suit
and cayenne poppor to two gallons of
meal and bran and potatoes. Lancaster
Farimr.
It is stated as a fact, that tho body
of A. T. Stewart has been recovered on
tho payment of 837,000-812,000 of
which wont to a lawyer who negotiated
tho business, and the balance to tho four
mun who were promised immunity.
FACTS AND FIGURES.
The following Is tho- mileage of tho
Now York Central & Hudson River
Road: Main line, Now York to Buffalo,
-J41 inll"s; branches owned, 30G; branch
es leased, 211; second track, 608; third
track, JUG; fourth track, 2f)3; sidings,
505; total, 2,022. The wholo proporty
represented is valued at $153,210,080,
and there aro 5,071 stockholders.
Hartford, Conn., figures up again
of $3,000,000 In the valuation of local
stooks during the past year. Of this
gain 82,15(5,000 is in 'flro insurance
stocks, $16,188 in life insurance stooks,
8009,000 in manufaeturingstocks, $210,
7G5 in bank stocks and $97,000 in rall-
road securities. Tho lnereaso during
1880 in local stocks valuation at Hart
ford was 85,8 10,5711, making an aggre
gate gain for tho past two years of 88,
750,02(5, an averago dally ndvuuco of
about $12,000.
Statistics show that in tho last fiscal
year our grain oxportsexccodod our cot
ton in value, tho former being 8209,
933,711, and the .latter $2177095, 710.
Third on tho list came provisions, with
a value of $161,628,2(58. Tho mineral
oil exports were about doublo those of
tobacco, the former being $10,315,590 to
thd other's $20,808,881. Tho sixth
highest export was "live animals." It
reached a value of $10,118,898. Theso
half-dozen classes comprised above five
sixths of our total oxports in value, our
manufactured articles falling below an
aggregate of 8100,000,000.
A census bulletin shows that Texas,
tho largest State, has an area of 2(52,290
square miles, and Rhode Island, tho
smallest, has 1.035 squaro milos. Nyo
County, Nevada, is tho largest county
in tho United States, covering 24,000
souuro miles. San Bernardino, Cat.,
with 23,000 square miles, is tho next
largest. California has four othor conn
ties, each of them as largo as Massaohiit
setts, three that are each larger than
Connecticut, and fifteen others that, aro
each larger than Delaware. The smallest
county in the United Stales is Now
York,' State of Now York, ami it has tho
largest population. Tho largest of thu
Territories is Dakota, with 117.G0U
square miles, and tho largest county in
any of the Territories is Ouster County,
Montana, with Hu.mOU squaro miles.
WIT AND WISDOM.
Funny items aro made of adroit
turns of the humor wrist.
Style is everything. It enables ono
to got over a fence. iV. O. Picayune.
"I don't like that cat. It's got
splinters in its feet!" was the excuse of
a four-year-old for throwing tho kitton
away.
We havo received tho holiday num
ber of the Congrexsionul Jlccord. It
contains more real dry humor than any
other publication wo havo yet eomo
across. Oil City Derrick.
New college joke. Professor says:
" Time is money; how do you prove it?"
Student says: " Well, if you give twenty-live
cents to a couple of tramps, that
is a quarter to two." Ar. Y. Graphic.
A Cincinnati factory molds eleven
miles of caudles daily. This tallows ex
actly with tho account wo had already
received. N. Y. Com. Adv. It also
a-greaso with our estimate. (Theso
puns may bo "fat" for the printers, but
they aro not entitled to a dip-loma for
brilliancy.) Norris(own Herald.
"You must not smoko in this car,"
said an Austin avenue ear driver to Gil
hooly, who was tho only occupant of tho
car. " Why can't I smoke? T am tho
only person in tho cur." "It don't
make any difference. Even when there
is nobody in tho car, smoking is not al
lowed." Terus Siftinys.
"Theso rubber garments aro such
a blessing!" remarked a fat man, as ho
brought into a street car a perfect del
uge of water. The lady at his right,
who mopped one side of his coat with
her costly dress, agreed with him per
fectly; tho man at his left, who caught
about a pint of tho drippings in his shoe,
could scarcely conceal his admiration;
while the young miss to whom the fat
man gallantly offered his scat a few min
utes later went into perfect ccstacies as
she sat down in a pool of water left on
the car seat. Cleveland Sun.
The Japanese Tallow Tree.
Mr. O. N. Denny, United States Con-sul-General
at Shaughi, has sent to a
friend in California, for distribution
throughout the State, a puokago of tho
seeds of tho " tallow tree," which ho
thinks will flourish there, with the fol
lowing interesting description of tho
process by which its fruit is prepared
lor use: '"The nuts grow in clusters
and are gathered in November. When
ripe, the capsule divides and discloses,
usually, about three kernols,' covered
with pure, hard, white tallow. In pre
paring tho tallow, the ripe nuts aro put
into a wooden cylinder with a
perforated bottom, and, after ten
or fifteen minutes' steaming, tho
tallow becomes ho soft that it is
easily detected from tho albumen of tho
seeds by breaking them with mallets.
It is then separated from tho seed by
sifting it through hot sieves, but, of
course, it is discolored from mixtures
with tho brown testa of tho seeds, and
m order to strain it ami maKo h per
fectly pure and white, it is poured into
a cylinder niado up of rings of straw
placed ono on top of tho other, and put
into a rudo press, when tho tallow is
squeezed through in a pure stale. From
138 pounds ot seed is obtained from
forty to fifty pounds of tallow, besides
tho oil obtained subsequently from tho
albumen by grinding, steaming and
pressing it. Tho tallow is usoii for a
variety of purposes by tho Chinese, but
more particularly for making caudles,
which aro burned in Buddhist worship.
