Nebraska Newspapers

    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
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