Image provided by: University of Nebraska-Lincoln Libraries, Lincoln, NE
About The Red Cloud chief. (Red Cloud, Webster Co., Neb.) 1873-1923 | View Entire Issue (Dec. 13, 1877)
Y fit"" la l I t 1 j i i J J i a i -fl I t( I a I fil I P I 1) se IE at T; In ce '. 11). an er z - THE RED CLOUD CHIEF. BORIN & HI'KINGKK, Kda. and Prop. RED CLOUD. NEBRASKA Rett. Too llttlercat, too little aleep. Too raauy hours to sow and rep At last disease and pain! Weak grows the never loosened band; Ttie strongest rope parts, strand by strand. Beneath a ceaseless strain. Let him who burns the midnight oil In the lonely and unwholesome toll Think, when he trims his lamp. That thus be trims his llfs as well, And hastens toward bis last low cell Its darkness and Its damp. To weary feet all streams are deep. All roadi are rough, all hills are steep. As way-worn travelers know. One hour of rest Is a preclons boon To him who tolls through beats or noon, With painful steps and slow. Then, ye who hope to make your mark. Ere your last nightfall, cold and dark. And stand aborethe throng On some far, sun-kltsed height or thought, Or do tome deed no band batb wrought Work, rest and so be strong. FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH. The fires burn cheerily on the hearth, the great logs crackle and flare up the wide chimney, up which it is my wont to say, you could drive a coch-and-four. I draw my chair nearer to it with a slight shiver. "What a night!" I say. "Is it snowing?" asks my wife, who is sitting opposite to me, her books and work on the table beside her. "Fast You can scarcely see a yard before you." "Heaven help any poor-'efeature on the moor to-night," says she. "Who would venture out? It began, snowing before dark, and all the people about know the danger of being'be nighted on the moor in a driving snow storm." "Yes; but I have known people to be frozen to death hereabouts before now." My wife was Scotch, and this pleas ant house in the Highlands was hers. We were trying a winter in it for the first time, and found it exceedingly cold and dull. Mentally 1 decided that we should only grace it with our presence during the shooti ng sason. Presently I go to the window and look out; it has ceased snowing, and through a rift in the clouds I see a tar. "It is beginning to clear," I tell my rife, and also inform her that it is p;ist leven. As she lights her candle at a side table, I hear a whining and scratch ing at the front door. "There is Laddie loose again," says she. "Would you please let him in, dear?" I did not like facing the cold wind, but could not refuse to let the poor ani mal in. Strangely enough, when I opened the door and called to him he would not come in. He runs up to the door and looks into my face with mute entreaty; then he runs back a few steps, looking around to see if I am fol lowing; and finally he takes my coat in his mouth and tries with all his might to draw me out. "Laddie won't come in," I call out to my wife; "on the contrary, he seems to want me to go out and have a game of snow-ball with him." ' She throws a shawl raoundheraud comes to the door. The collie was hers before we were married, and she is al most as fond of him, I tell her, as she is of Jack, our eldest boy. "Laddie, Laddie I" she calls, "come in, sir." ne comes obediently at her call, but refuses to enter the house, and pursues the same pantomime he has already tried on me. "I shall shut him out, Jessie," I say. "A night in the snow won't hurt him,' and I prepare to close the door. 'You will do nothing of the kind," ihe replies, with an anxious look ; "but fou will rouse the servants and follow lim at once. Some one is lost in the now and Laddie knows it." "Really, Jf S3ie, you are absurd," I re Dly with a laugh. "Laddie is a saga cious animal, no deubt, but I cannot be lieve he is so clever as that. How can he know whether there is anyone lost in the snow, or not ?" "Because he has found them and has come back to us for help. Look athim now." I cannot but own that the dog seems restless and uneasy, and he is evidently endeavoring to coax us to follow him; he looks at us with pathetic entreaty in his eloquent eyes. " Why wont you be lieve me?" he seems to ask. "Come," she continues, "you know you could not rest while there was a possi bility of a fellow creature wanting as sistance. And I am certain Laddie is not deceiving us." What is a poor, hen-pecked man to de? I grumble, and resist and yield, as I have often grumbled and resisted be fore, and as I doubtless shall do here after. "Laddie once found a man in the snow before, but he was dead," Jessie says, as she hurries off to fill a flask of brandy, and get ready some blankets tor us to take with us. In the meantime I rouse the servants they are all English, with the excep tion of Donald, t he gradener, and I can see they are scoffingly skeptical of Lad die's sagacity, and inwardly disgusted at having to turn out of their warm beds and face the bitter storm of the winter night . . sDinna trouble yoursels," I hear old Donald say. "The mistress is right enough; auld Laddie is cleverer than any a- Christian, and will find some ling in the snaw this night" "Don't sit up, Jessie," I say, as we art; "we may be out all night on this ild-goose chase." "Follow Laddie closely "is the only aswer she makes. The dog springs forward with a joy ous bark, constantly looking back to m if we were following. As we pass through the avenue gates and emerge nntnthe moor, the moon straggles for - v.mi,t1i ffio drivinc dondS. I juuiucuu wn k" --- ,m fhA and lights ud with a sickly gleam the I now-clad country before us. "It's like hunting for a needle iu a bundle of hay, sir," said John, the coachman, confidentially, to think as we should find anybody on such a night as this! Why, in some places the snow is a couple & feet thick, and it goes agin reason to think that a dumb animal would have the sense to come home and fetch help." "Bide a wee, bide a wee," says old Donald. "I dinna ken what your Eng lish dugs can do; but a collie, though it has na pleased Providence togie the creature the power o' speech, can do mony mair things than them that wad deride it." "I ain't a deridin of 'em," says John. "I ODly say as how if they are so clever I have never seen it" "Ye wull, though, ye wull," says old Donald, as ne hurries forward after Laddie, who has settled down into a swinging trot, and is taking his way across the loneliest part of the black moor. The cold wind almost cuts us in two, and whirls the snow into our faces, nearly blinding us. My finger tip3 are becoming numbed, icicles are hanging from my moustache and beard, and my feet and legs are soaking wet even through my shooting boots and stout leather leggings. The moon has gone in again, and the light from the lantern we carry is bald ly sufficient to show us the inequalities in the height of the snow by which we art guessing our path. I begin to wish I had stayed at home, and to consider whether I may venture to give up the search- (which I have undertaken to "please my wife, for I am like John, and won't believe in Laddie,) when suddenly I hear a shout in front of me, and see Donald, who has been keeping close to Laddie all the time, drop on his knees and begin digging wildly in the snow with his hands. We all rush forward. Laddie has stopped at what appears to be the foot of a tree, and after whining for a moment, sits down and watches for us to do the rest 1t ia that which appears when we have shoveled away the snow? Is it a bundle of rag3? Is it or, alas, was it a human being? we raise it carefully and tenderly, and wrap it in one of the warm blankets which my wife had thoughtfully pro vided us with. "Bring me the lantern," I say, huskily ; and John holds it over the prostrate form of, not as we might have expected, some stalwart shepherd of the hills, but over a poor, wrinkled, ragged old wo man. I try to poor a little braudy down the poor old throat, but the teeth are so firmly clenched that I cannot. "Best get her home as quickly as pos sible, sir; the mistress will know better what to do for her nor we do, if so be the poor creature is not past help," says John.turning instincti vely,aswe all do in sickness and trouble, to woman's aid. So we improvised a sort of hammock of the blankets, and gently and tenderly the men prepare to carry their helpless burden over the snow. "I am afraid your mistress will be in bed," I say, as we begin to retrace our steps. "Never fear, sir," says Donald, with a triumphant glance at John ; "the mis tress will be up and waitin' for us. She kens Laddie didnu bring us out in snaw for naething." "I'll never say nought about believing a dawg again," says John, gracefully striking his colors "Ycu were right and I was wrong, and that's all about it ; but to think there should be such sense in a animal." As we reach the avenue gate I dis pa ch oue of the men for the doctor, who fortunately lives within a stone's throw of us, and hurry on myself to prepare my wife for what is coming, she runi out into the hall to meet mo. "Well?" she asks eagerly. "We have found a poor old woman," I say; "but I do not know whether she is alive or dead." My wife throws her arms around me and gives me a great hug. "You will find dry things and a jug of hot toddy in your dressing room, dear," she says; and this is all the revenge she takes for my skepticism. The poor old woman is taken up stairs, and placed in a warm bath under my wife's directions; and before the doctor arrives she has shown some faint symp toms of life so my wife sends me word. Dr. Bruce shakes his head when he sees her. "Poor old soul," he says; "how came she out on the moor on such a fearful night? I doubt not she has received a shock which at her age she will not ea sily get over." They managed, however, to force a few spoonfuls of hot brandy and water down her throat, and presently a faint color flickers on her cheek, and her eye lids begin to tremble. My wife then raises her head and makes her swallow some cordial which Dr. Bruce had brought with him, and then lays her back among the soft pillows. "I think she will rally now." says Dr. Bruce, as her breathing becomes more audible and regular. "Nourishment and warmth will do the rest; but she has received a shock from which I fear she will not recover." So saying, he takes his leave. By and by I go up to the room and find my wife watching alone by the aged sufferer. She looks up at me with tears in her eyes. "Poerold soul," she says ; "I amafraid she will not rally from the cold and ex posure." I go round to the other side of the bed and look down upon her. The aged face looks pinched and wan, and the scanty gray locks which lie on the pillow are still wet from the snow. She is a very little woman, as far as I can judge of her in her recumbent position, and I should think must have reached her al lotted three score years and ten. MVV ho can she ber" I said, wonder ingly. "She does not belong to any of the villages hereabouts, or we should know her face; and I cannot imagine what should bring a stranger to the the moor on such a night" " .H-T -1. I As I speak, a change passes OTtr her face; the eyes unclose, and she looks in quiringly about her. She tries to speak, but is evidently too weak. My wife raises her, and gives her a spoonful of nourishment while she says, soothing- iy- "Don't try to speak. You are among friends ; and when you are better, you shall tell us all about yourself. Lie still now and try to sleep." The gray head drops backs wearily on the pillow, and soon we have the satis faction of heanng, by the regular res piration, that our patient is soundly asleep. "You can come to bed now, Jessie, I say. I will ring for Mary, and she can sit up for the remainder of the night." But my wife, who is a tender hearted soul, and a born nurse, will not desert her post ; so I leave her watching, and retire to mv solitary chamoer. When we meet in the morning I find that the little woman has spoken, and seems stronger. "Come with me now," says my wife, "and let us try to find out who she is." We find her propped up in a reclining posture, and Mary beside her, feeding her. "How are you now," inquires Jessie, bending over her. "Better, much better, thank you, good lady," she says, in a voice which trem bles from age as well aa weakness ; "and very grateful to you for your goodness." I hear at once by the accent that she is English. "Are you strong enough to tell me how you got lost on the moor, where you came from, and where you were going?' asks my wife. "Ah ! I was going to my lad, my poor lad, and now I shall never, never see him more," says the poor soul, with a sigh of weariness. "Where is your lad, and how far have you come?" "My lad is a soldier at Fort George ; and I have come all the way from Liv erpool to see him, and give him his old mothers blessing before he goes to the Indies." And then, brokenly, with long pauses of weariness and weakness, the little old woman tells us her pitiful story. Her lad, she tells U3, ia her only re maining child. She had six, and this, the youngest, is the only one who did not die of want during the Lancashire cotton famine. He grew up a fine, like ly boy, the comfort and pride of his mother's heart and the stay of her de clining years. But a "strike" thrw him out of work, and, unable to endure the privation and misery, he "listed." His regiment was quartered at Fort George, and he wrote regularly to his mother, his letters getting more hopeful every day, until he suddenly wrote to say that his regiment was ordered to India, and he begged her to send him her blessing, as he had not enough money to carry him to Liverpool. The aged mother felt that she must look on her child's face once more before she died. She begged from a few ladies, whose kindness had kept her from the workhouse, sufficient money to carry her to Glasgow, and from thence she had made her way, now on foot now t egging a lift in a passing cart, to within a few miles of Fort George, when she was caught in the snow storm, and, wandering from the road, would have perished in the storm, but for the Laddie. My wife is in tears, and Mary is sob bing audibly as the little woman con cludes her touching story, and I walk to the wmdow and look out for a moment before I am able to ask her what her son's name is. As I tell her that we are but a few miles from Fort George, and that I will send over for him, a smile of content illumines the withered face. "His name is John Salter," she says. "He is a tall, handsome lad; they will know him by that" I hasten down stairs and write a note to Col. Freeman, whom I know inti mately, informing him of the circum stances, and begging him to allow John Salter to come over at once; and I de spatch my groom in the dog-cart, that he may bring him back without loss of time. As I return to the house after seeing him start I meet Dr. Bruce. "Poor old soul," he say, "her troubles are nearly over; She is sinking fast I doubt whether she will live till her son comes." "How she could have accomplished such a journey at her age I cannot un derstand," I say. "Nothing is impossible to a mother," replies Dr. Bruce, "but it has killed her." I go in, but I find I cannot settle to my usual occupations. My thoughts are with the aged heroine who is dying up stairs, and presently I yield to the fasci nation which draws me back to her pres ence. As Dr. Bruce says, she is sinking fast She clasps my wif e's hand in hers, but her eyes are wide open and have an eager, expectant look in them. "At what time may we expect them?" whispers my wife to me. "Not before four, I reply, in the same tone. "He will be too late, I fear," she says; "she is getting rapidly weaker." But love is stronger than death, and she will not go until her son comes. All through the day she lies dying, tak ing what nourishment is given to her, but never speaking except to say, "My lad, my lad! God is good; he will not let me die until he comes." At last I hear the dog-cart I lay my finger on my lips and tell Mary to go and bring John Salter up very quietly. But my caution is needless ; tie mother has heard the sound, and with a last effort she raises herself and stretches out her arms "My lad, my lad r she gasps, as with a great sob he springs forward, and the mother and son are clasped in each other's arms once more. For a moment they remain so, then the mother sinks back on my wife's shoulder, and her spirit is looking down from heaven on the lad she so dearly loved when on earth. She lies in our little churchyard, un- der ft spreading yew tree, and on thtlthff draaiinf jott before it iauaed. stone which marks her resting place are inscribed the words, " FAITH FTJL UNTO DEATH." Our Laddie has gained far spread re nown for his good works; and as I sit finishing this record of which he is the hero, he lies at my feet our watchful faithful companion and friend. Work. We believe in work good, honest hard work work with the hands, work with the head, and both combined. It was man's original destiny, as well as that of the entire animal creation. And if we can call those operations which are done without "consciousness or vo lition" work, then the vegetable king dom is full of workers. But man, above all, because he needs most. Some animals make themselves dwellings like men, and wonderfully nice ones ; but where is the animal that makes himself a suit of clothes ? the silk worm! No. His cocoon is the house, orhiB vest if you please; but not his coat and trousers. Animals gather their food, and store it up for use, with great labor; but no animal builds a lire and cooks it Ani mals live on fruits and grains, but nev er, in any concious or voluntary way, do they plant trees or sow corn. The beaver is content to use his teeth for an axe, and his tail for a trowel, and does admirable with both ; but man makes tools and machinery. Thesquirel crosses the river on a chip or a piece of bark, making a sail of his bushy tail which is very clever of him; but men make canoes and steamboats. Thus, in clothing, cooking, agricul ture, tools and navigation, man is su perior as a worker to the whole ani mal creation. And when we come to brain work, and writing, and artistic operations, there is no sort of compari son. Dignity in labor! Why, what dig nity, is there is anything else? Who ever thought of the dignity of idleness? The only use or only excuse for play and rest are that they enable us to work the better. Rest is the pause in which we gather strength to labor. Recreation is the step-back which en ables us to spring forward with a great er force. It would be a rash thing to say that work could not be in excess, because all must have rest and sleep ; but it is quite safe to say ten men are killed by bad habits and bad conditions, for one who is cut off by honest work. And idle men are notoriously more short lived than laborious one. The oldest men we know, and those who have been preserving their faculties, have been workers, and some of them very hard workers, both mentally and phys ically. And the workers certainly have the most enjoyment Ask any man who has retired from business. Idleness i to the soul, and makes happi ness impossible. Work brings cheer Excess of work is like all excesses ; but there is no betttr condition of life than that of the man who is a wise and tem perate worker. ITKMS OF INTEREST. Sixty thousand Bibles or portions of scripture have been bought by Russian soldiers since they crossed the Pruth. Drew Theological Seminary needed 8300,000 to set it on its feet. Of this $160,000 has been subscribed, and the friends of the institution are earnestly calling for the other 3140,000. The New York Court House will be finished this coming summer. It has cost thus far a little over twelve Jind a half million dollars, and the trifling sum of 3-100,000 will finish it Economical, close fisted fellow?, those New Yorkers. The English explorers of Palestine under Lieut. Kitchener, have discovered a Crusaders' chapel near the Mount of Olives. The chapel, which seems to date from the thirteenth century, stands upon the spot assigned by tradition as the place where Christ mounted the ass to make his entry into Jerusalem. With in the chapel there is a square piece of masonry or rock, supposed to be an altar covered with paintings. The Secretary's supplementary report of last year showed 14,634 Granges on a paying basis,wf ch 583,537 members. This did not include the order in Canada that maintain an independent existence. There, there are about 600 Granges,with 24,000 members. With one exception the reports of the State Granges thus far made public indicate losses of nominal members, the exception being Georgia, which returns 537 live Granges. It does not however, pay dues upon more than 120 Granges, which at this period is the critical test The National Liberal League, which held its convention at Rochester, passed fourteen resolutions defining its plat form. These declare against Christian izing the Government and in favor of the taxation of church property and the abrogation of Sabbatarian laws. The sessions lasted three days, and the speak ers represented almost every shade and degree of unbelief in what enstomarily passes for religion. The league's treas ury contains 3320. Hans Hendrick has written his mem oirs in Greenlandic, and they are to be translated. Hendrick joined Kane's ex pedition in 1853. and when the vessel was abandoned, married an Esquimaux woman and settled near Smith's Sound. In 1860 he accompanied Hayes and in 1S71 Hall, and was, with his wife and three children, picked up with the sur vivors of the Polaris. In 1875 he was with Nares. His book is said to be full of interesting details concerning the Es qoimax life and language. Chicken Salad. Cut the white meat of chickens into small bits the size o peas; chopthe white parts of celery nearly as small ; prepare a dressing as follows; Rub the yolks of hard boiled eggs smooth; to each yolk put half tea spoonful of mustard, the same quantity of salt, a teaspoonfulof oil, and a wine glass of vinegar. Mix the chicken and celervina larra bowl, andnonr over PERSONAL. From India the Rev. X. Sheahadri writes, that many of the native Chris tians under his care are starving. Julia Kavenaugh, the writer, has died suddenly at Nice. She was S3 years old. Her work was pnncitully in novel writing. Dr. Aver, the issane medical million aire, is not in an insane asylum, but is among his friends, and his case is in the hands of scientific men. Mr. Longfellow's daughter, a beauti ful blonde, Mfair and goluen haired like the morning," is to be married soon to R, II. Dana. Texas pa pers record the death of Thos. J. Pilgrim, who in 1S29 organized the first Suuday School in that State, a! San Feliie, Austin County. James Freeman Clarke advocates the admission of women on equal terms with men a3 a necessary step for Harvard, and declares his confiJence that the step will soon le taken. Miss Majfmbanks, the atlianced bride of the Earl of Aberdeen, is as distin guished for her intellect as for her per sonal attractions. The other day she made no less than three lengthy speeches in reply to public deputations present ing addresses of congratulation ujkhi the forthcoming event and this notwith standing Lord Aberdeen was piesent to have replied on her behalf had she deem ed it necessary. The wifeof Associate Justice Swayne, of the United States Supreme Court, is one of the few descendants of those to whem the lands atout Harper's Ferry once belonged. She is a descendant of Sarah Harper, the niece of Robert Harper, for whom the place is named and who was one of its early settlers Miss Sarah Harper married Mr. Wager, of Philadelphia. Wager was Mrs. Swayne's family name, and her eldest son, General Swayne, of Toledo, bears that name. Quean Victoria celebrated Hallowen at Balmoral with quaint, old fashioned ceremonies. A brilliant procession of torch bearers marched through the grounds in the still, dark night, prece ded by the Queen's pipers playing lus tily. After them came the Princess of Wales and her little daughters, and the Princess Beatrice, each carrying a nam ing torch aloft. After marching round the castle several times the Princess Alexandra suid Beatrice lighted with their torches the huge bonfire erected on the green, and, with the rest of the gay company, danced the torchlight dance round the blazing pile, while the kindly Queen looked on. Our Boys. Did you ever notice how long it takes a boy's hair to dry .when he has run away and gone in swimming? It is painful to boa boy with a mother con stantly in fear that you will be brought home from the river on a board. The boy i3 commanded not to go in swim ming, and he swears he won't, but hu liai ke a little trooper. He thinks he will go in and not get his hair wet, and no one will know it; but just as begets ready to come out of the water, a big boy ducks him and then ho swears, and when he crawls in at a back window at ten o'clock at night, his mother, with a press-board hid in the folds of her dress, i3 the first obstacle he encounters. Does she believe him when he tells her he has been practising with the "first nine" of a Sunday-school class? No! She feels of his hair, finds it wet, smells of it and finds it musty, and finds his shirt wrong side out. Then she spits upon her hands, and with the press-board she works upon his tender sensibilities bo that he goes to bed with his hand on his aching heart, wishing that he w;u a half orphan; and he dreams that he is a stern wheel boat running backward, and has collided with a bargti loaded with benzine on fire. The best way for a boy to do in summer, is to have his hair shingled. A Tasteful Arrangement. A description of the window garden of a friend may give a hint to flower lovers: A bay window with an easter ly and southeasterly exposure consti tutes her conservatory. A large box supported on iron brackets at the cen tre window of the bay, is filled with geraniums. Shelve?, also on iron brack ets, are at the two side windows, upon which pots of plants stand. A firm bracket upon each side of the arch of the window holds a pot with a trailing vine. Four-armed bronze pot-bracketa are screwed into the wall just above these, and can be turned to or from the light at pleasure. A rustic basket is to hang from the centre of the arch ; while a wire flower-stand, on rollers, will find its position in the window, or can be moved away at convenience- She says, "I sometimes put different varie ties of the same species of plant in the same pot mingling more varieties in a hanging basket than elsewhere ; but I do not mix the species in this manner. If that is done, the stronger plant ab sorbs part of the life of the weaker one; but neither thrive as well as when kept separate. List of Patents Issued to Western In ventors. We are Indebted to Thomas G. Orwig, man ager of the Iowa Patejtt Ornce, at Des Moines, for the following list of Patent re cently granted to Western Inventors: (For a Drinted codt of the drawinrs and specifica tions of any patent desired, enclose 25 cents to Thomas G. Orwig, Solicitor of Patent, De Moines. Iowa.) Plows Marshall Bluffs. Iowa. Turley, Council Wire-S:retcv.ere Chas. F. Booth, Winterser, Iowa. Mill-Gearing-Garret W. Muscatine. Iowa. Scheems, Anvil-vices Albt. Anderson, Nebras ka City, Nebraska. Butter-workers Royal "W. Barnard, Favette, Iowa. Fire-bending and upsetting attach ments for punching and sheanne ma chines Austin W. Comstock, Mount Pleasant, Iowa. Napkin-rings and holders John He berling, Iowa City, Iowa, assienorof one half his right to George W. Marquardt, same place. Cultivators Henry S. Hoyman, Stan wood, Iowa, Breast-straps for harness Arthur G. JCttt, Tndepeadeooe, Tm. r-EFL'L RECITES. Caper .Vawcc Mix two ouncr of butter and one spoonful of flour Un;tli er in a small saucepan, then add a jint of broth, set on the fire and stir till thickened, when add capere to the Uvtc. Give one boil, remove from the fire, add salt, the yolk of an e?g. beaten with one spoonful of water, and serve with toiled mutton or toiled fwl. tody Fingers. Rub half a pound of butter into a jKuud of flour, add half n pound of sugar, grate in the rind of two lemons andMiueeze in the juice of one: add three eggs : make into a roll the site of the middle linger; it will spread In the oven to a thin cake; dip in a choco late icing. .-1 Iltlish fur llnakasL Take one fourth pouud of fresh cheese, cut In thin slices, put in a frying pun, turning over it a large cupful of sweet milk; .'uld one-fourth ttsispoonful of dry mus t;ird, a pinch of salt and jvpper and a piece of butter the size of a butternut; stir the mixture all the time. Roll three Itoston crackers very fine, and sprinkle It in gpulually, then turn at once into a warm dish, to bo sent to table Imme diately. Cotjte Tablets. Frenchman roasts coffee, grinds it to tljur. moistens it slightly, mixes it in twice its weight of ovdered white sugar, and then presses it into tablets. One of these tablets can be dissolved at any timo in hot or cold water, making at once the very infec tion of coffee; and it is claimed that a pound of berry will go much further by this than by any other preparation of the beverage. Chese Pudding. This is a supper dish. In two quarts of toiling water containing two tablesjKonfuls of salt, stir one pound of yellow Indian meal and a quarter or a pound of grated cheese; boil it for twenty minutes. stir ring it occasionally to prevent burning; then put it iu a greased b'ikuig pan; sprinkle over the top a quarter of a pound of grated cheese, and brown in a quick oven. Serve it hot If any re mains slice it cold and fry brown. Improved .Method of I'lnsterlnj;. Mr. IIilchingH, of Stoke Newington. England has introduced a new method of forming ceilings and other piaster work which, for durability, saving f time, and cleanliess, is unrivvltd. By means of this system the plaster is pre pared beforehand in slabs, which are fixed expeditiously to the. j uhLs, forming the celling at once ;us it would be when lathed and plastered with the two coats of lime and hair iu the old process. The slabs or sheets are made in the fol lowing manner: A layer of plaster of Paris in a moisl or plastic state is spread evenly on a fiat surface surrondeJ by raised edges of the form to produce the desired bevel of the edges of the slab or sheet of canvas oi other woven fabric of proper size, or a thin layer of loose libers, which is made to embed itlf into and adhere to the plaster. Two lathes are then laid along two opposite edges of the canvas, upon which another laywr of plaster is spread evenly, and toforo it sets a rough broom Is passed over the surface of this secoued layer of plaster to form a key for the finishing coat. When the plaster is set the slabs are nailed to the joistw, :w before inen tionrd, and the joists are made go with plaster of Paris. The third or finishing layer of lime and plaster is then applied to the ceiling in the ordi nary way. Besides the advantages de rived from rapid fixing, with the min imum of dirt and inconvpr. nice, the newceiling is practically uninfl irnma ble, and very economical to put up. Moreover, unlike the old plaster ceil ing. it can never tocome detached from the j lists; in fact, besides being self-supporting, it braces and strengthens all partitions and slight timbers. A Nervonn (Jirl Suddenly Limm the Power of Speech. The case of Miss Agnes Eagan, the operative in a Fall River mill, is one of singular interest. Following are the facts of the case as near as can le. learn ed: Miss Eagan is a young lady nine teen years of age, who lives with her mother and two sisters, at the corner of Seventh and Bedford streets. Fall River, and has been employed forsome tirnoin the Granite Mill, in that city. She is of a very cheerful disiositIon, pleasant, genial and a favorite with all who knew her. Her manner is refined and lady like; in feature and form she is comely, and, for one in her position, she is re markably intelligent. But for the past six week3 she has appeared like one in a dream, sober, taciturn ana melancholy, a3 if she had a foreboding of some corn ing misfortune. On Tuesday, the 6th inst, she appeared more cheerful than she had been for some time. She re tired at the usual hour, but on arising the next morning was very much de pressed, ar d on being questioned as to the cause replied: "I had a fearful dream last night. I thought I went to the mill and was talking with one of the girls, and while talking with her I wa3 sud denly unable to make any noise and did not speak again, but was able to hear anything which was said." Her friends laughed at her, and Eaid she was foolish to let such a thing worry her, and en deavored to draw her mind from the subject, but in vain. She continued to talk about the matter while in the house, and on arriving at the mill she told her associates about itnd they ahn endeav ored to show her the folly of her fear. but to no purpose. About 11 o'clock one of her chum3 said to her: "Agnes, are you going to the party to-morrow night? She replied: "No, I think not; I do" and she was dumb. Her dream was a dream no longer, but a stern reality, Not a sound could she make. The3hock was preceded by a sharp tingling sensa tion in the throat, extending through the entire system. She made known her condition by means of writing, and aphymcian was summoned, who pro nounced . the attack a nervous one, and stated that with care she would recov er; that many persons have lost their yoicea in the same manner, and advised th of h Metric UiUtt. Rul Uj voting lady refusal lo sjrcl hrWf n h U nnle of trorttmns, ami U;M h- c n3dent if they 1 Id sh" woH ;u.v tV v.vw of uht awl Ur1iC. Sirwv the attack Msu F?nn kv rrotT hex former chrfBl difM(Uoa nl appuenlty happy awI coatoav- .11 before her mksfonttn Slv ix r -ned her duties at tie mill, ami bcr fi.rndi hoie that with aire she wtll In tm.e recover her ijNctv. le $.. v nmuig them : of !d. ml hr voter is hushed, am! Ue power U arUculalo set'iii to liav guoe from h-x ottUrgiy. Boston Post. DeonrntM (Andl. Ieconittl candlon for tt lit fKtrutn residences have of ln? Tr lkwm very iopuhir In Nw V.kI:. A slcl firm in this city, which ww the nrst to introduce the mvelt. now sWls many thousand dollar' worth of camlim a year. White candle were found t cold and plain fr liands-moly funtttttn! rooms, and colored ons we.re lnt a slight improvement; hence decoratM candles, tainted in design and color? to match the decmi!i and slvtttof Ibn room they are intended Uvr, came tuto lue. For a room the prevailing color of which is blue, the csiutle in the ceitle.r of the cnndlebni will have a Wise groundwork, and the kle ones will have gold with blue touches, and all will have the monogram of Uwuwicn of the house. If a ntn in decorated with hVur de- lis.the same re also jmlnt ed in miniature on the candltw. Can dies for room decorated m the style of Louis XVI. ire painted In light rolors. ami with the peculiar long oval scroll characti ristic of that t)!e. For rillsa tothan noms, on the other iiaud, the colors are heavy, and the clutrnctertntlc elntorate s'r.ij woik is emplorcd. The Japanese rooms nqu re candle with Japanese chat net eta Tt.ee are usually, thi-ugh nt invariably, painted on red jjio'indworK. which give them a very striking elbct. For rompeiiuu nmis th- pit vad:ng color until on thocaittllm is tie famous Pompeiiau red. Fre qut t:t'). tt . a candle, while derorated l! e. f,ral nvpt-ets according to the prim- p'en laid down, in made to a npec Ml w emblematical of Its declined u-e. Thu?.n candle intended foraUtch eloi's lihruiy is adorned with an owl smoking a pipe; another, for a New F.nghtud family, i pntiitM with the trailing arbutus, or "M i dower." which is as dear to the Xew Knglaud heart a shamrock to the Irish. Smm of the emblems an fanciful. One. for example, toenlorce the habit of keeping early hours, has the convolvuluH or "morning glory." which cloies iu the eveulnw. and the cock, which rise early, thus ei -IxmI ing the old saw, "F.arly to hit I ami early to rise." In all c.ises the candles are decorated by expei t artist, and their prlev. which ranges from M cents p to 10 a pltee. depends entire! v uiou the workmanship and artthtic taste dutplayed in their or namentation. The painting Is done in water (l)odyj colon; oil colors take longer to dry, have a shit y ami unsatisfactory efTect, and are, th re fore. Jeia suitable. The rage for decorated candle La had a prolonged run In Xew York, and although the interest ha mhucw hat ul sided, it Ik likely to be renewed with the advent of the holiday se:ion. ft'rto York Mail. Million ot Ital. A San Autonia ('I xaj correspondent writes: Our ol.jectivo jwdnt wan the great bat e;ive some ten mile northe;it of the little town of Selma. n place sel dom visited by r.orthern I'-urhta. When within Iejw than a mile of the cave which is situated on the cret of a high bluff that may be called an irregular ta ble land Gen. Ord directed my atten tion to an Iminex.Mf dark nhadow In the horizon, extending from the ground line, high up into the heavens. It had all the appearand? of a very strong volume of smoke issuing from the funnel of a gi gantic ocean steamer. MIt looks like smoke," said the general, "but It Is aim ply a cloud of bats issuing fxom the cave." On approaching nearer I could distinctly make out the fling vermin which were truly thicker than any Hwarm of bee I had ever H'-en, and there appeared to be no end of them. We soon reached the cave, which dipi into a brambly gorge, and from the ca pacious mouth, shaped like the half rh'jked uri'h of a bridge, we. could rj the bats flying out iu tens of thousands, the columns growing deeper every sec ond. The cave Is gloomy aa the realms of Pinto, having a gentle, decline for some hundreds of feet, the roof ldng quite lofty, and the xr l?ing covered to an incalculable depth with guano de posit, which exhales an tflliviurn calcu lated to knock down the strongest kind of ahone. The guano will be more ef ficient as a barrier against lurking des peradoes than all the police in Tsrxaa. Bats, as you know, do not terch singly, but hang to the wall and to each other, jusi 33 bees do when in "swarm." The temperature of the cave is sufficiently low to prevent thein from becoming heated, and how thy manage to sup port the enormous weight of their own masses i3 a question which only prac tical naturalists can solve. They min age Ui do it, though, without the slight est apparent discomfort. And there cannot, at a moderate computation to U 33 than thirty mii.ions of bjits in thoaa enormous c-ive3. Maryland girls won't murry in the full of the moon, believing that they would have lllduck all through life butan Iowa girl wouldn't Ie: forty full moons stop her ten seconds. ' Ah. parson, I wish i could carry my gold with me," satd a dying man to nis pastor. -It might melt," was the con soling reply. uAt what age were you married?" she asked inqusitivefy. But the lady was equal to the emergency, and quietly re sponded, "At the parson-age J t St e