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 (June 13, 1884)
T Efe V TE EED CLOUD CHIEF. A. C. HOSMER, Publisher. KEI) CLOUD. NEBRASKA F. VERY-DAY PIIILOSOrUY. Jfhpn weariness with lire mv spirit nil, V iit-n deep disgust consume me with my draw some store of I lmvou't got. cotntort from the ilia To find that fortune at vour coming Hies To be bankrupt in hi-ulth. in fame, in purse. .s bad enough; but, I philosophize. It mihfbe worse. Incessantly we nialce a great ado. Tii mouth of Misery is wide agape; out happier we. I fancy, if we knew t i uai we escape. The common woes or life are had enough. Mislortunes fall as easv a tin. ii.u- And still for every morning steak that's tough. There might be two. Thi one I s!ck: his wayward fate erics out -Aga-nt the leech, the calomel, the tied. J lticoiiMtlenitc person, tease to pout lou might be dead: And this one hath the mitten: he ha wooed: H1I1IV. alack, his unnlnif ir l...j ....,1 I .-n .-n.-ii in mis uteres i--wed , jv..m .-. .... ;...,. . r. ;"? -'v- comiort, rightly He might be wed! tiJr here is one who whines: hi all is swept A way in pone: he has hud to "Jail." He h .uld. I think, be cheerful, that he's kept :-a!e out of jaiL Cut late I los- a twenty-dollar bill X:ii did 1 wring my hands that I had blun- tiered? IS'ot I. indeed! Im very thankful still Twas not a hundred. 4 Soothe, should r e'er capsize when walks ate bad. And my good clavicle involve in wreck, -rer-mlj. I !-lnu d say How very glad It's not my iK-ck. O tra-t me lwt'er not to makendo At the tew miene-. of our common lot. Tic-re's mi.Im.is of 'em- if wo onlv knew! We haven't sot. The Muniialtan. J .MOOM.KJHT AM) FLOODS. The lioods were out at Wendeltliorpe. Hunts were moving hither and thither in the lower-lving streets, and out in the open country field alter field was changed to a 'lake. Front nurd the waters ro-e a solitary farm-house, black agahst a darkening sky. The surging Low heaved and tossed and ' "struck heavily upon it; here was no langu'dly spreading expaa-e, but the hurry of the swollen river rushing im patiently forward and rising in its im patience higher and even higher. At Tin upper window si persons were gathered, watching the motions of a light that came and went slowly, and seemed to be drawing nearer by de grees. The group was made up of the larnier. his wife, their .three children, and a young man who was the eldest daughter's lover. The light was mani festly approaching, the dark shape of a boat became distiller, they heard the dip and splash of the oars: "at last tho boat paused in the lee 01 tke house, and their rescue was secure. It could be Wseen now, in the light of the lantern, that there were several persons in the boat, and that one of them was a worn--an. A voice called upward to those with- n: "liow many are your And a voice called downward in rc- -plv: ".d." I o that answer followed a moment of silence. Then. am:a the sound of the water, -came up the words: "We have only xoom for four." vdiall vou be able to come back for The others3" asked the tanner. Again followed a pause, brief, but " -sufficient to foreshadow the coming negative. No. hardly, it was getting too dark and too dangerous. Within were quick questionings and -denials, a half-heard debate, caught and lost again between the ominous boating of the rising lioods. l?y day break the housetop would scarcfly be left above water, even if tho walls shold be strong enough to hold out so long. "Jack ami I will stay." said the fanner at la-t. "If Jack stays, so will I." answered the clear voice of his daughter. Then a man rose in the boat and .said: "There is no woman who would say that for me, and so let me stay." The others in the boat looked at him as he stood leaning one hand against the wall. He was a stranger who had reached Wendeltliorpe only that after noon, and had volunteered his services at the s'arting of the boat. Tho woman sitting in the stern moved a little and said, "I will stay, too:" and all ycs turned back to her. Her .;they knew. She was tho new mistress -of the village school, a grave 3'oung -woman, and reported eccentric. There was no remonstrance from the l "boat, only a siow. ruminating surprise: from above, indeed, came protests, but faint and qickly overruled. A window was opened in a lower story: the two entered upon a landing hat was already Hooded and went -quickly upward. Warm, broken thanks -met them and eager promises of return in the tirst hour of dawn. Then from he upper window, the two watched the em arkation of the six, heard their shouts of thanks and of farewell, then ' 4he dip of the oars, and felt at their hearts a sudden blank. They stood .-sme oy s;ue. watciung the waverin" progress of the departure and the "wavering rejection of the shaken light. At last, when the boat was far away and no dim echo reached them of its founds, they turned toward each other stud toward the inner room. The room bad in the interval, grown nearly dark. 51ml as they turned this way they heard "tho Hap of the water, like a step on the staircase. "Have you any hope of their comino back in time?" a-ked the woman. Her companion answered: "No:" and she saw through the darkness that ie shook his head." "Nor have I." said she. They stood aimlessly looking into the fat darkening room. They had no occupation but to await the coning up of the water, and they were strangers who had never so much as beheld each other's face by full daylight. The wind and the water went sweeping by outside, rand in the house were ghostly sounds of door- and windows stealthily trk'd and shaken. "Had we not better go up to the at i tic while we can?" askeJ the man, by 1 and bv She assented, and they went inward to the dark core of the house. The iukv solitude below was full of croaking and rustlings: above shone a square of yellow light, revealing a steep ladder, -n. Hamuli lantern nan oecnieittor tnem in tlie attic, together wan ioou ana ?-i f i .. warm wrappings -l wm icicii me lantern. ' sa:d t: ami swung himself quickly upward. She stood below, holding fast to the side of the ladder. His quick stej sounded above her head, the 'light hif. ed and briirhtened. she saw his face in a qu-ck illumination: then the light whined toward and beyond her, down, down into the darkness and Hashed upon the stairs. Her breath stood Ftill: she had a sickening feeling of being i all at once, here was a way of escape, lelt alone. Assurance of her eoinpan- j not selfish, but to help happier people, ion's safety reached her. however, in j and it seemed the key to the form of an imprecation, checked, ( everything when you stood up in the indeed, but hearty, uttered about two , boat and said that you would stay." feet above her. " j Vet." said he,""l coirid no"t help "The handle of the lantern was loose,'' I wondering, as we stopped out, whether said he, as he came to her level. "I'll what we were really giving to those go down and fetch it up." ; voung lovers was only time to lose their ".o, don't! it is too dark. Please love tor each other, even in remem don't! let us go up." j brance. For death can only destroy t he She had found h"s arm in the dark- future, but life can destroy the past, ness and held him back. In the dark- too." ness, which was much the blacker fori "Are you sorry, then, that you staid?" that brief interposition of light, they There was a little note of mockery ir made their way into the attic, and in the question, or his conscience ere. crossing it carefully, afraid of the low roof, afraid of unseen stumblingJjloeks. afraid of returning upon the yawning aperture, made the r way to the gray square of the wiudow. Here they found a large bo v. upon which they sat down. They spoke but little: there were so few , things left worth utterance in such an hour as this. Ky and by. as their eyes grew accustomed to ti-e "dimnes. they di-cerned the general character of their surround ng. There was a table i near them with food: there were boe ' ami bundles and a couple of old pict ures, brought up hither apparently when the tide began to rise. In th middle lay the black square through which they had made entrance: at tho , far end a rough heip of straw was ilinih distinguished, and trotn this came re-t-Hss gnawing, scrapings and rustlings, causing the woman to shrink and shud- . der. ' "I suppose they are nits" she said once, when the sounds grew lender. "1 suppose so: d vou mind very . much?" "No. if we could onry see them." . Azain for a while they were silent, ' hearing the little sounds within aud the ever-increasing sounds without. At last the man stood up. and pass- ' ing his hand across ids face, said: "Oh. thi- is very cold-blooded! They used ' to torture witches so, lied to a 'stake, whe the lide was coming up." He moved to and fro impatiently aud stooit tui oy tlie table. "Could you not eat something?" "No. thank you." He broke himself a iricco of bread. returning to the window, ate a few , tion, though hardly so voun"- as his sec mouthfuls. He pushed open the lattice nd. She might be live-aud-twentv. It and leaned out. was not the f;;ce o :l giri She ,1:uI rc The water was rising rapidly, and turned to her former position, and now, was already washing on the window cf leaning back against the chimney, lift the room below. He turned back to-' e,l m her fi.. m tho cL-v IT..V - ward her a face of dismay tiers as sue sat within the room was not clearly visible, but her attitude was calm aud undisturbed. He sighed, and came back quickly to sit beside her. But his quietness was of short duration. He asked, after a few minutes: "Would you not like to go out upon the roof? We shall have to do it sooner or later, and I don't think we should feel quite so much imprisoned." "Oh yes, let us go. Is there a trap- "i tion t tli.nk there is. I looked just ' ,. now. lint l can get up window the roof is close then 1 can help vou." tl.rmi.rl, tl,. He set his foot on the window-sill, and thrust his head and shoulders through the narrow opening. "Oh yes, it is quite easy. But how"it blows! We had better have seme of those shawls." one orougiii liicra ami natnteu mem out, watched him draw himself up, and men mounted in tier turn from box to window-ledge, and, reaching her hand upward, found herself lifted safely to the summit. The surge of wind and water was terrific: her hat was blown away at once and she was blinded by her Iiair. When she had freed her face'and drawn up her shawl over her head she was able to perceive that the roof was formed ot two long parallel gables, and that between them, at each end. a stack of chimneys rose from a solid platform. They went forward to the more heltcred group and sat down on the block of brick-work at the ba-e. They had before theni the wide, deso late expanse of waters; below them tor- rents ran thundering between dwellings anu out-nouses. auU in the pause- of the cannonade that beat the walls and of ' the rushing and rending sounds within they heard a southern wind drifting with sighs between the chimnevs? rrt . . .... . . Xll Uiere was no token of life, no light, no ' ound of hope. Yet they felt a slmse of elief and freedom in being here, where re .1 . . f l ..!. !. I, I .. Ml -1 ... .'. ... , ,. - " vyo, mab is ueuer. saiu stie. anil uiieu up uerxace to Dreame me iresher. Mr' ,, ., . j -une wouiu say, said he, watching 1 tlie dark cameo of ber face, as it de-) tached itself from the straight line of masonry, "that you hail a kind of en joyment of all this." "In a sense I have. There is so much space and power. And there is the feeling of having for once put ac tion and responsibility out of one's hands. There is nothing now which it can possibly be one's duty tt) do.' "lou don't feel anv'fear of death, then?" "I fear it physically, of course the actual drowning and choking ah, don't let us talk of it. But at least we shall have had this hour of freedom and rest." "I could bear it better," he returned. "it mere were any element of struggle. rr, -. ..... . - .... . I j.u .i sun in a cage until aeam chooses tn I'Dtlw qnrl mil . nml ,n ...... .l.-.V, I to come and put an end to j'ou that's iiornoie: She turned toward him and seemed j to consider his point of view until it ! became hers, for she shuddered and said! "It is horrible:" There was silence again between them for a little while. Again, when her face was bent forwaid, he was able to watch its outline. Surely she was I younger than he. had supposed. mey count see and know what was be- j There were a tnx more lifelong mo falling. j nients in which thv ., ;iu.. i.r..,k j "What made yon stay?" he asked suddenly. She hesitated a little, "What made owr" ' "ITiardly know, more than what I saut that nobody cared mu-.-h whether i did or not. an.t ttiat I d d not care I -. i. - it t . -mucn niyscu. ij.a i am oilier than vuu. and I ha.'e had about as much out of life ::s it will ever give mc" I don't think that it need hi' a ques tion of age how much on-' life is worth. Mine did not matter to any one, either; im it was not ery easy or hopeful for myseu. 1 uau wanted so much, anil nau to learn mat i must do with so lit- i tie. Of course, it is not noo e to care own petty hanui- so much about one's ne.-s, but oh! one does carol And then. ateil it. 'No. it seemed the thing to do. One can but act in the present. And even if 1 man could know certainly that de.w.h would keep their love for theru. and life would lose it, he could hardly b?.Jng himself to say: 'Then let death "co-Jic.' It takes Apollo to g vc death when he is asked for the best gift. Hut yet. what a chance for two lovers te have died together so!" She drew a rather deeper breath" and made no spoken answer. Down at the far horizon the late moon was rising, vague and cloudy. A ghost ly 1 ght, bringing in its wake mysteri ous shadows, spread slowly as the moon drowsily lifted heri-elf and dropped the mists from her shoilders. The man. look'ng down, in this ciearer light, to .1 ,. ....I 1 tl .Y. fJie water, started and said: "It is com rng up much faster." She stooped and looked. Then their eyes, lifting, sought each other. Both faces were pale in the moonlight. On both sat the human shrinking from this upward crawling fate. Yet it was something to see each other. "How long is it to morning?" she eu. He drew out his watch, but there came a cloud across the moon and they had to wait. "It is just past twelve," said he. "Perhaps they will come out by moonlight.' " Perhaps." said he. But neither of them had any trust in the hope. He had seen in the moment when they looked at each other that she was indeed younger than his tirst supnosi- were closed ami her Ims drawn h There was but time to look once before the lips curved again into a smile and tlie eyes opened fo a calm gaze. Tlie man s tting by her heard the changing and deepening tone of the water as it came up and up. " You are too youug for this," said he, abruptly. His voice had changed and deepened like the tone of the water. "No, no," she answered, -"vfteramo- -. ..... m...j ment. "Don't trouble about me." ' i uu iiuiliw awilt VOU. 11 S HOm- She again kept silence for a little space: then she said: " Mien I heard you say that in the boat, and get up to say. I telt, suddenly, as it it was a cruel thing not to s'ay- with you. too as well as to save them." She hail beon obliged to speak the iasi vvorus loutiiv: tor the wind rose suddenly nd .iercc'y. and the shock of the wa er broke noisily on the walls. And as she ceaseil came n terr.'lilo I crash; the whole building creaked ami swayed: tjiere were heavy p a -lies in the water, and water Routed over them as they caught and clung to each o.her. Long hair was blown before his face. They held each otl er fas:, pant ing anil tre'inbling. Sue freed a hand and drew a.-ide lfer ha r. There was a sound of water, running, trickling anil dropping. The calm moon, pi suing her leisurely pathway, pi-ed out iroiii K.ii.:...i . ..i 1 111.. .. . i- ..-...,. a iiiiii. aim Miowe.1 tue.n mat , '"-I"'1"'"1 !" l oilier cnilot UU! house had given way. and the stack of chimneys opposite iiad fallen. "If it had been these!" said she. They crouched nearer together, each still holding to the other. The tear in each mind now was the fear of l.cim divided, of losing all human compat" ionship. The waters were rising atur, rising, as it seemed, with a maTi-rrinnt " ' n - hungry joy. "It can't be lonj "Xo." said she? g now," said the man. inr iiar.i. lllir liMt-.l III,, u- il ., f ...:.. I ..I . . . .. -..' - l"-"i, UII-IUI- "7 - - "im iU3l- ui iii t iioac ed; the moon found a wide open arch- way among the clouds the face of the waters Tew bv comparison still again. "And so," said he. "it was for nu you staid, and even at the end I can't go away in peace w.thout pulling down some one else. , And you. who staid, are a stranger, and we shall die hen; together, strangers. Oh, the irony of this world ! All mv life I have been solitary and deserted. It has been mv fault; and now lite is over. It's all too late, and there's no time." She remained silent, and the monoto nous pulse of the water throbbed be low. " Do we? Well, the depths, perhaps, of each ther, but not the shallows. If vve were to be saved we should feel like friends till we came to land, and then ."" uuiugo your way ana 1 mine; anu 11 Wf WOfll In mnnt .Mnn , ....Al. lor a twelve-month we should speak to o.l. l . ... ' . --. ... .u.(.f wuli; MCCIW eacn other at hrst, and then we should no-i and smile, and bv and hv wo should pass and take no notice. No. w"t knowledge or friendshin we have does not belong to this life!" "You believe, then, in another?" "It is hardly that 1 believe in another life, so much as that I can't believe in death. We could not bo capable of so much, and desirous of so much, and nothing come. We have not half I feel so miic!.. much more. n I nm nnr ifrii Tlmm .i.... He in his turn was silent. Perhaps he forebore. out of pity, to put forth a word against her hope; perhaps, in his i sou!, too, a like ho;e. which he had taken to be long dead began to stir and murmur. The moon hail put on. minute by minute, a lu ler glory; it was illumin ing an arch of clouds, and beyond the arch lay measureless, liquid, lucid depths. She looked and pointed up- . ward. The full glow shone n her l face. He saw in her dark eves a slow mcnauie sonetung: in all the lines ol .- .- . . .... her features 1 reathed a snirit of ex ultaut reception. "The open doorway of infinity," said he. fitting to this radiance its apt poetic description, but without anything of the poetV rapture or belief. Her lips moved to a ecogni.ing smile. "indcanyou look up to that and despair?" she asked. ; "That has no voice for me. It is too far oil', too silent, too unmoved. That glory may come back, as serene, to look down on my drowned face. But you have to die with me. What hope there is in life or death you have shown me. ldon't know that it is lasting or that it is good for much: but such as it is, it comes from you." Again the waters came nishinj' over the fallen chimneys, and they looked j out iu momentary apprehension. Hut the sudden torrent subsided, and the waters went on rising again slowly as before. He then quietly proceeded: "One thinks of life as the li.e one has known. 1 To-night a gl mpse has come to me ol something that seems to make li 1 c- " worth going on with. It may be life on the other side of a division: 1 can't tell. I don't want to be carried back into the oM life, 1 11 1 I do want life the liTc that 1 neailysaw just now, when we thought that our time was upon us. And I have found you, standing with me upon the brink. " We do not know each other, vou sav: we are not friends. ami we can't be. "I don't know. I onlv 1 1-- . ... .1 . mi I kiiow mat l would neither go on no back, alone." Her hand, which still clung to his arm, trembled aud was withdrawn, and in the next moment stole softly into his. They sat qu te silent, and" the endless night drew on. Memories rose before each of them of hoes and drams th t had once been all in all. and now were small and faint and immeasurably distant. Around them, rising always, surged the persistent waters. Now and again gusts of wind awoke suddenly ami brought i sweep of waves over the submerged masonry Presently, oozing drops began to creep between the thimnev's behind them. "We milst man. up higher," said the They r.uitted their sheltered nook, and, mounting, stood upon the platform of brick-work. The wind Hung itself upon them in fury. They clung to the chimneys and to each other, and for a few minutes stood so. battling sttenuouslv to keep their foothold. The m:n cried out suddenly: "Oh! if there were only some place for you! It is too hard a death for you. I 'am so sorry for you." And even while he spoke the water was up to their feet, snatching aud dragging at them. "I am not sorry." she answered. "And oh. no! it is not hard: it is the best moment life ha- ever brought me!" Her voice was blown away as it crossed her lips. It was only be ausu they were tittered at h.s ear that he could hear her words. And his, of re ply, the winds snatched and carried away forever. The time of words was over. There was nothing now but naru-urawn Dream, anil then a vain st niggle of res stance, and then, r. placid moon, shining over i waste ol l.oods. Itcljrnriit. What Ilroke a Huston En?.iger.ent. No one who has not carefirly attend ed to the actions and language of th. audiences during the justVlo? d Wag ner fe.-tival has any idea of how high the feel ng has tun I etvveen tho whe admire ami tho-e who do not under t:uid the 1 rincplos of Wagnerian inu n To illustrate the extent to which the war of opinion has been carried it may be well to relate a little incident. Among the attendants upon Wednes day afternoon's performance were a young gen Ionian who is prom" nent iu societv in th.s c tv and a young lady ol j,;,, .!,; va:.on. to whom rumor re lll)rt lt:m to be .illbm.-e.!. ports h:m to he alluuieed. As will be renicmbeicd, the introduction to "The Ithinegoid" w:ls among the seleet.ou? produced, where 11 the steady and st ong i ow of the river : inilu ated by a protracted and sonorous note, around which the melody weaves itelf like the eddies ami whirlpools of the stream. The young gentleman aforesaid listened to this etlect with puz led patience, and after the concert was over he said tc his inamorata, as they walked out to gether: "1 say, what does Wagner mean by that long, low note winch went 'iJ-r-r-r-r' for about live minuses in the first part of the Khinegold' music Was he trying to describe a saw-mill?" The young lady dropped his arm and flashed lightning at him out of hei eyes. "1 11 go home alone." she said, with decision, "you don't understand the first principles of harmony!" and she llounced oil", leaving him staring. And they do say the friends of the pair that the whiloru engagement i now among the things that vyere. L'oslon Journal. Charles Graber. a farmer neat Pennsburg, Pa., was horrified recently to find that a black snake had coiled it self about his hg. Mr. (Jraber used hi fists with good effect, and then.when he discoTered that he was standing over two more reptiles of the same species, and that there was another in his path, the alirighted farmer succeeded in kill ing two of the snakes, two escaping. Tile reptile which had encircled his leg was nearly live feet ia length. Pills burgh PoL Spriggins: "Fogg, old fellow. 1 must conhde in you my discovery re garding Angelica's writing me so much more olten than formerly. She was waiting for the two-cent stamper 10 come in. Oh, my dear I ogg, Angelica is a very sensible girl." Fogg (dryljri "Two c'entsible, I'm afraid.' enough. Rearing Chicks. The timr-worn saying that tho early hi-d latchc: thy worm" applies nieclj with rega-'d to the rearing of chicks. In our -x erienee we have found that our early broods cost the le i.t can; and labor and give the best satis'action. Unless early broilers for the market bo the object iu view, thete is no need to employ artificial means of hatching and rearing chickens, as for the majority of people "old biddio" will do it in season and attend to it with much less trouble v the owner. Chicks hatched the lat ter part -f March, in April or even May will mature into fine birds before cold weather, if they have good care: and :is the American standard of excellence does not now demand such heavy weights as formerly, exhibitors even need not make such great haste to have their show birds out of the shell before the time above mentioned. Manage some way. if possible, to sit several hens at once, so that the broods can c mo off at the same time. There are several things to be gained by this. First, then, if some of the hens are careless or In some manner happen to lose half their eggs, your broods can be doubl-d up and the" chicks given to the best and most careful mother, while the careless one, which otherwise must ";ool away" her fine on half a orood. can go back to business again. Another thing to be ga ned is, the chicks of the same age can be fed the same kind of food and grow right along together, while with broods of all ases, mingling promiscuously together at'feeding tlm the ounger ones are trod upoa L5 the older and the weaker ones fm rathei poorly, unless e msitUiirfcxi care and tact is di-p'ayed Wy Ho attendant. For the liryt weV ( An we always feed hard bo led crta. crumbled right tin. shell ivl if, mixed with stall bread, crack irs anil may be a little boiled potato, seasoned slightly with salt. Occasion ally a ittle pepper may be added and a httle powdered c arcol, bond meal, or crushed oyster-she Is. can always be added with profit, also to keep them in hea th a little sulphur. Gravel should always be. within their reach. Author ities differ in regard to giving- young chicks water, but it is usually conceded that it is an unne essary 'adjunct to the'r bill of fare until large nnough to eat grain, and then it should be given in some manner that they be not com pletely drenched while drink'ng, as in that case in a cool morning the drink does them more harm than good. A little milk in a shallow' vessel, say a saucer, is beneficial at all iimes, anil when it is warm enough iveathcr to cause the milk to thicken, our chicks and turks as well fare tirton "dutch cheese." For the benefit ft; those who may not understand ,'lm term, we would say it is clabbered milk, scalded sullicieutly for the curd to separate Irom the whey, when it is strained through a coarse cloth. This dry curd can be mixed with the c. or with oat me ll, or fed alone. In "cither case it makes an excellent and nutritious arti cle of diet. In case this is not at hand, oatmeal can be mixed with the boiled cs, or dampened with milk or water aud fed alone. Iu case milk is used, only enough should be mixed at once to keep sweet, as it will sour very qu'ckly. hen the chicks are two or three weeks old wheat screenings and cracked com may constitute their even ing meal. Farmers' licticw. Value of Wood-Ashes. The value of wood-ashes as a fertil izer depends mainly upon the potash contained. The peYcentago of potash varies largely in ashes Irom different woods, consequently th variable value, as a fertilizer, of ashes. In the com mon wood-ashes of commerce different soi ts as a rule, are mii-d together, and it has been estimated that a bushel o! ordinary mixed, unleacned ashes con tains from three to four pounds of pot ash. The per cent, of j-otash once as certained there is little difficulty iu fix ing the value of any special" lot of ashes. Simply multiply the number of pounus 01 putasu oy me market price of potash, and make due allowance for the phosphoric acid, which is present all the way from live to twelve per cent. Farmers iu many localities will not pay more than six to eight cents per bushel, which is a much lower valua tion than that usually set by chemists. Prof. H. C.Kcdzie iscrediteifwith having made the statement not long since that "lor orchards wood-ashes are worth six times the value- of fresh barn-yard manure, ton for ton." He estimates that a ton of beech-tree ashes which he takes as reprcsent.ng the average wood-ashes contains "J.'O pounds ol potash, worth about $16, and 105 pounds of insoluble phosphoric acid, worth .5.25, which would give a ton ol such ashes a value of .21, not count ing other ash constituents. Dr. (Joess mann, in a bulletin issued from tht Massachusetts experiment station, con siders the value of Canada wood-ashes, for which some of the Connecticut Val ley farmers nay 30 cents and upward per pound. According to an analysis reported upon by Prof. Goessmann, the ashes in question contain on an average JJ5 per cent, of l.me. 5.30 of potash and 1.4 of phosphoric acid. This would give in a bushel of ashes 3.4 pounds ol potash and over a pound of phosphoric acid. At present prices for these in gredients, the ashes would represent a money value of about 23 cents, not con sidering other elements of lesser valutf as fertilizers. The price farmers pay for wood-asbcj should be governed somewhat by cir cumstances outside of the actual, value of the ashes for instance, the character ot the soil to which the ashes are to be applied and the crop to be grown there on. Ashes are most -profitable on soils deficient in potash and for crops that exhaust the land of this ingredient. The best physical as well as well as chemical effects are doubtless obtained when the ashes are thoroughly mingled with the soil The modes ot applica tion arc drilling in with roots and grain, .'owing broadcast on meadows and pas tures and mixing with the compost heap. Ar. '. World. Ants and Roaches: Dry salt sprin kled ou shelves where there are red anU will drive them away. Wash painti where roaches come with alum-watei and it will banish them. The llou iold. tr THE TRAIL OF THE SERPENT. In the m Id n lir lit calm and holy, when tb the midnight calm and world has un'-c to re.-t. When the pot:e der U trcmbliny on lily's folded crest. tbjf When the sishunr of the zephyr creeps and steals upon the ear. Soft ami penile us an echo wafted from an other sphere. f will leave my heated room, leave tho dark ness and the itloom. 1 will leave the crowded city, quit the crime polluted street; Wander through the meadows, whero I my breathe a purerair. Feel a purer, holier, better earth beneath my straying teet. On through silent lanes where rustllnjr trees are nodding overhead. Whispering- tales to one another of the pleas ant summers tied: On through fields where corn Is wiving, as if in a sleep is heard Some soft anthem stealing round ittowkoM melody is stirred: Stars are glistening in the sky, dew drops glit ter in reply. Silent converse with each other violets and daisies keep: Hobin with the scarlet breast dreams of mis chief in his nest. Flow'rets, tired of being happy, close their petals now to sleep. Yonder Is a cot half bidden in a robe of red and green. Covered o er with countless roses bathing in the pale moon's sheen: Surely nothing less than angels dwell within that cottage there: Winning fair.'e must be biding round a spot so bright and fair. To the window I wilt creep, through the lat tice I will peep Alas! that such an Eden should have such a hell within: Bee the drunken father lie with his childrei weepmsr by. And a bower of beauty blackened with tb awful brand of sin. Out again upon the highway, all my heart witn sickness numb. From that cottage quickly tlyiug to a village now 1 come; Ilowg of cottages, surrounded by green fields like verdant seas. Or like hidden treasures crouching in th shadow of the trees. But as I am drawing near, frightful noisei greet my ear Curses like the yells of devils, oaths that taint the very air. Never city built by man since the world itl course besan Could eclipse the scenes of horror that with in that village were. "Hum again." I faintly mutter, as my foot steps hurry by. On past sights of drink and riot, evil plague spouto thweye. Out again Into the meadows, here at least I may breathe free. In thi- solitude of nature no drink traces shall I sec. Rivers glisten calm and bright in the moon beams speetral light. Laughing streamlets, never sleeping, leap down the green hillside: Now tho nightingale's sweet sonjr breaks upon a ll-t'ning throng Of primrose and fox-glovcsjthat beneath the hedges hide. But the mairie note is broken by a shriek 30 loud and shrill That the streamlets seem to stagger In their racing down the hill: And I beanl rude, clamorous voices, yondet by the river's brink. Grewomc curse and ribald laughter can 1 never leave the drink? Back again into the town, with a spirit broken down. By the crime that ever meets me whereso ever I may roam. Valnlv mav I strive to flee, still tho serpent'i trail I a?e Blasting, ruining, destroying every Ppot 'ueath Heaven's broad dome. Irlth World. One Safe Side. We find ourselves quite often puzzled as to the issues of right and wrong in the practical questions of daily life." We have a strong inclination tosome course of procedure concerning the wisdom or propriety or lawfulness of which we can not help entertaining a doubt. Will it do for us to go forward, or will it vio late some standard of duty by which we ought to be governed? May we gratify our desire, or will such self-indulgence strain and weaken our alle giance to the purest morality? May we safely take some step quite agreeable to us, or will the ait exert an unwhole some inllueuce upon those whose esti mate of good and evil is affected by our example? We wish we could see clear ly the merits of the case, and we can not assume the affirmative in the prob lem of privilege without some slight misgiving as to the vindication of our course. We do not mean to do wrong, and we hope we have not gone astray for nothing would induce us to trample upon any positive law of rectitude. Still there is a little cloud brooding th whole transaction, vvith'n which there may lurk above our head a shadow oi condemnation. How can we be guided in such questions of personal conduct so as to see the right clearly, through the haze, an 1 commit no trespass? Well, I would suggest that there is, in most of these puzzles, one indisputa bly safe side. It may not be quite right to gratify our inclination in a given in stance, but it is miiiic-dionably right not to do so. Shall we take the cup lifted to our lips, so sparkling and fra graut and stimulating? We hesitate to .-ay: "Yes," but, without hesitation, we may say: "Xo," and forego the tempting draught. There is some profitable walk of busi ness, the influence of which upon the public good and the common safety ia often questioned, but the profits oi which are large. May we engage in it without just censure?" ?Ycll, there will be no deserved renroach for-lei-Ji alone. Will it be safe and right for us to place upon our board for our own use, and to offer to our guests, stimulating and intoxicating drinks, and to aceu torn our children to this feature of do mestic life? We hope we have enough strength'of self-control and that oth 'er have to prevent any mischief. That may b so, but it can "not be de nied that abstinence is safe. I'here is some style vl public enter tain ment, which, In its own nature, ot in tle character of the performers, 01 in the more usual and prevalent type of its exhibition, is a violatidn of "the most sensitive purity and delicacy; and leads often practically to wantonness 01 imagination, if nothing worse. May 1 sanction and endorse it with my pres ence, for the sake of some gratilicat'on of my taste? If, in such gratification, I have no thonght or meauing or experi ence but what is pure and wholesome, still if there be a question of its pro priety and beneficence on the broad scale of public morals it will I can not dispute be safe for me to sta? away, and keep my skirts clear iron possible evil. There is one safe side. Let us learn and apply this truth in all the round ot our personal habits, and so escape impeachment from God and man. Dr. A. L. Stone, in Pacific A son of Patrick Hnncll, of Danbary, Conn., only six years of age, helped nlmself to three drinks of whisky anil 4id two days later. Temperance Keadin V i- - : J" Jk.1 '&.&:k,.-!Mi.mfrXtf$vb Hi !! I llTi rlm " MlMfc MJ&"ft --