Nebraska Newspapers

    -
BED CLOUD CHIEF
A. C. HOSMER, Proprietor.
RED CLOUD. -
NEBRASKA.
BLOOM AND SNOW-TIME.
How the years are fleeting from ust
How the summers come and go !
Scarce the earth is white with blossoms
Ere 'tis whiter with the snow.
And the blossoms and the snow-flakes
Drift in turn above our dead;
Which were sadder, bloom or snow-time,
Jf ever mourning heart hath said.
Songs the birds have heard but sing not
Other horn than drone of bees
Mothers list for in the silence
Of the shadow of the trees.
Something other than the brightness
From above, and from below
Blinds the eyes of travelers homeward.
Missing foot-prints in the snow.
If but years were fleeting from us,
Did but summers come and go.
Only trees shut out the sunshine,
Only shadows lie below.
Which more joyous, bloom or snow-time,
Never parent-heart might know;g
So the child's song wooed the blossoms
And its footfall marked the snow.
There are realms of endless summer,
Fields with fadeless beauty crowned;
Trees whose blossoms falling, drift not
To the fashion of a mound.
There are voices singing childlike.
Sweeter than the angels do;
We should know them, could we hear them.
For the song," alone, is "new."
There are travelers journeying homeward,
With their faces to the dawn.
Who were turned from darkest nightfall
Searching for their jewels gone.
And they see in bloom and snow-time
God's white mile-stones by the way
Lessening space this side the city,
Where the children are at play.
X. T. Obterttr.
of the great world is scarcely felt, this
CHAPTER VL
SOME DECLARATIONS.
The school-house in Moosencck was a low
structure, so Iowa tall man might lay his
hand upon the cares. In this regard its
composition was strikingly Mormonesque.
Hewn pine composed the walls and a med
ley of shingles and clapboards the roof.
When it rained, a thing infrequent m this
region, if administering Mormonism with
an occasional pinch of earthly information
in it chanced to be in progress, they simply
adjourned. It mattered little anyway, con
sidering the intellectual pap offered
these unfortunate sucklings.
The place was a very dirty one, indeed
quite in the Mormon way. The floor was
of Nature's own furnishing, packed solid by
countless foot-strokes and, when un
sprinklcd, rising often in little smoky
puffs to further aggravate the mental fn
which seemed always webbing about the J
iwr ui-aub congregated there, its area wa
the one redeeming feature, it being rather
wide and deep upon the ground, a necessity
obvious enough when the flocks of children
in the settlement were taken into ac
count. Indeed in Mormondom chil
dren are ubiquitous; they literally
swarm upon and burden the eve-sight.
Their production is a cardinal feature of the
Mormon system; they vote ultimately, of
course, and to insure the product, the
leaders have made woman's salvation
depend in large part upon the number
of bodies she furnishes the spirits
that wait to pass through this exist
ence to the next. The imposition is in
expressible. That night after the Prophet's
coming however, the old school-house had
a holiday look. The seats had been re
moved, the walls decked with greenery, and
the dirt floor swept and sprinkled. By nine
o'clock the populace was there, a 'hard
favored, animal-looking crowd, yet with
here and there a good form and gentle face.
The ball was opened with prayer, one of the
Salt Lake Elders offering the invocation,
and that night ere the disgusting pastime
had ceased a young man was killed upon
the floor, and half the dancers were reeling
with drunkenness. Quite all of them were
members of the Mormon Church, but none
were Christians; sin sere Mormons there arc
in plenty, but never Christian Mormons, the
beliefs of the latter and the holy refine
ments of the former can not lie down to
gether in the same heart.
Mormonism is not a religion; those fine,
spiritual laws that mankind, after centu
ries of sifting, have found pure gold at the
bottom of experiences arc lacking. A shuf
fling and repulsive assumption of worship
is put forward by the priesthood on all pub
lic occasions, no matter how secular and un
holy. Worship Is vulgarized, and lire is
lanrelv brutalized. In all the back regions,
Where too contort tad restraining pressure
TREAN;
OB
THE MORMON'S DAUGHTER.
By ALVA MILTON XEBR.
Written "While Living in Utah.
Copyrighted, KS7, by the A. X. Kellogg Xexs
paper Co. Ml JtiglUt Reterted.
CHAPTER V. CONTINUED.
"Shake! Brother Young, shake! You're
kindness itself to your servants," said the
Bishop, feelingly.
"Yes, I know, and I expect you to look
after these tithes pretty closely, too, Par
ley!" "Yes, certainly; numt certainly!"
"Have any of the elders counseled her to
marry you J" queried the Prophet.
"Well, no; they seem sort of 'fraid of 'er.
I've talked to her father, and, of course, he
submits like a lamb, but she's as stiff as
steel and silent-like. I can't figger with er
someway."
"Well, she'll have to bend or break, that's
alL Are any of the young brethren stand
ing in your way?"
"There's several feedin' themselves on
secret hope, I think, for she's a fine creeter,
but she pays little attention to any of ;cm,
unless it's young Elder Beam. I've had
Arson spyin' and I guess that amounts to
nothing."
" Well, if he gets in your way let me
know, and I'll send him off to Europe
preaching."
" Thank ye, Brother Young, thank ye
kindly !" The Bishop ruminated a moment.
"There's a fellow, a down-Easter, up at
their house who got hurt at the ford near
there. But I guess there's nothin' atween
'em as yet, ner likely to be, according to
Dubette and Arsen. whose been spyin' 'em.
Acorse if he interferes I'll have him sent
apreachin' to well, spcrrits of just men
made perfect!"
" That's right; I guess you'll take care of
your chances, Parley!" said the Prophet,
with an approving grin. "Sweeten up a
couple more sups and we'll swallow it to
your success."
The Bishop threw up his hat, they drank,
and rose and with flushed faces went out.
feature turns most toward one. There it is
f rightful. At the best it is a home-destroying
system, a lust-engendering, love-annulling,
heart-polluting one, but there it is
embruiting and stupefying. There lif e, like
a plant that feels upward for the sunshine
and strikes its sensitive spire against the
underside of a reeking stone, is doubled
back upon itself and turns helplessly about
in the darkness and the filth. Youth ,is
muddied through all its feelings by precept
and example, and becomes a home-hating,
liquor-loving, lustful, profane and ignorant
phaze. Over it and about it forever broods
a thick and heating atmosphere, impure,
animal, numbing to the brain, quickcuiug to
passion, through which their way seems
hopeless.
At the heart Mormonism is criminal
Masonry. The Priesthood,wbich is all power
ful, constitutes this body, und ceremonies
are passed through and oaths taken that
are frightful in aim and import. The out
lying limbs of this grave Theocracy arts
cloaked with religion, and by its binding,
persuading agency sustenance and power
are forced back through the arteries to
the false and lecherous heart. Cords of
superstition, fear, awe, and a poor mis
guided faith, bind theso extremities to the
knavish, priestly body, which in Utah has
thirty thousand members within its oath
linked chain. This is Iformonism; & white
slavery, a fabric of injustice and deceit. A
thousand stains spot its history, a thousand
sighs breathe over it, and through ittrickto
en thousand tears. Its history can never
be told; much of it is not for decent ears;
God alone shall wholly treasure it up
against the future in His all-preserving
silence.
The morrow after the ball broke dim-lj-;amist,
in whih the mountains stood
waste deep as in a sea of milk, lay heavily
upon the world. The air seemed clogged
and scarcely respirable, a strange thing
among the Utah mountains. When Elchard
woke Trcan's father was tramping up and
down the narrow porch; he could not
breathe when lying down, he said. He had
heard of the murder at the dance, too, and
was restless and stifled. Trcan bad not
been there; he was glad of that; neither
had she been with the rest to greet the
Prophet at his coming, and he shook his
shaggy head with trouble.
After an oppressive breakfast Elchard
went out, and with a suffocating sense
climbed the slope and sat down among the
pines. The sun was a bleared spot abovo
him, and only for a few yards about could
oujccis uc aisuncuy seen, it was easier
breathing there, however, and he fell to
thinking of his uncarcd for affairs, and how
he must try and go on when morning carae
again; then of this sad and beautiful girl
there in the mist below him. Would she al
ways go onward in the mist that other
mist which was felt and visible only to the
spirit- and to what an end ! He rose up in
voluntary, her future so came upon him,
and stepped forward as if he would go to
her, when suddenly she stood before him in
the path.
How soft her form-lines in the mist!
How wide and startled her eyes! She
paused as if to turn back.
"Don't go, Trean!" he said, unconsciously
extending his hand in an appealing way.
"Stay with me; don't go back into the
mist!"
"I didn't know you was here; I was going
further up the mountain. I mustn't stav
now," she said, with a kind of
gasp.
He came close to her, his fare burning
white. "Trcau !" he said, and that was all,
but all that might ever be said of love was
coaxing and pleading and throbbing in the
word. A sweep of color ran over her neck
and face, and she seemed struggling to go
back.
"You mustn't; you don't know; Vm not
fit; it might cost yoa your life!'' she panted,
drawing back.
faltering
"It's costing you yours, Trcan!" and his
hand was upon hers and both were tremb
ling. "Don't leave me, Trean ! You are good
and beautiful. Let me thank you here
where wo are alone tor your kindness and
bravery. Let mc give you my love, Trcan !
Don't throw it from you, darling; don't put
"She stood for a moment like one intoxi
cated, swaying upon his words, her eyes
softly dilated, her bosom heaving! Suddenly
she leaned toward him with an indescribable
murmur of pleasure and slipped down with
her check upon his hands where they folded
over her own, and hung there. For an
instant he felt her tears running over his
hands and her lips kissing them, then she
broke away und ran blindly downward into
the mist and was lost to his sight.
For a long time he stood still where she
had left him, for the whole mountain seemed
to beat like a soft pulse, the air seemed
sweet, and the mist was but a halo about
him. Then, with deep breath, like one who
has drained a delicious cup, he turned and
went up the mountain path much as one
moves who is young and jocund and with
out disease.
After a timo he emerged from ttie mist
and stood alone upon the mountain side
with the white sea all below him. Then in
the silence and sunshine a loneliness that
was a kind of doubt and fear came over
him. Might this not prove a symbol of the
future! Would she ever rise above the
j- mist that heavy medium in which she bad
it
life! She turned about and broke into a
snatch of song which was well-nigh a cry of
gladness. She fell upon her knees before
her bed and prayed that God would protect
him who had taken her soul in the sweet
snare of love, and even while she prayed
smiles came and went upon her face so like
a beating heart was happiness within her
solicitude.
Poor child of the mountains, the sorrow
and dross and dullness of something liko
savagery had always smothered her spirit;
now they hud rolled bade from her like a
folding curtain, and a light, sweeter a thou
sand times than the sunshine of carlj- spring,
the midsummer sparkle of half-shaded
streams, or the cool tire down-dropping from
the mil!ry surge of stars, burned mcltingly
through all her being.
She rose up and made herself as fine as
her meager wardrobe would ncrmit. and
stood a moment smiling at her image in the
glass; then, as from the thought that her
few poor trinkets would be as nothing to
mm. laiu mem aside and clothed herself in
a simple dress of white muslin and went
down, looking like a goddess of the dawn.
Elchurd was pacing to and fro along the
path before the porch, his head erect, his
cheeks touched with a tiny flame. When
she came out ho was almost startled, so
much had gladness changed her. With a
quickstep he was by her. "Trcan!" but
she lifted her finger with a pretty sign of
warning, her face flushed with happiness,
and he osJy stood a moment by her side
holding her nand tightly where it hung be
tween them, and koking where the broken
mist rolled up the mountains and caught
here and there on spur and pine in mighty
melting tufts until, far in heaven, at last it
formed in floating isles of ileecc.
" I am going to meeting soon," she mur
mured, "please don't go with me."
He looked at her. "Why, darling!" He
felt her tremble with that endearing name.
"It might not be safe!"
"What a religion!" he exclaimed, with
sudden revulsion.
"Yes," and her eyes were on the ground.
"O, Trcan ! do you believe it J"
"It might be truc.and bad men make it seem
untrue." He was surprised at the musical
distinctness of her speech. Love seemed to
hare roused her from her squalid use of
words.
"Yes, that is possible, perhaps, but I do
not think it is so with this, Trean. The sys
tem seems bad the invention of bad men.
Yesterday I went down the str.'ct, there
beyond the trees, and saw a woman of mid
dle age knocking angrily at the door of a
little house. Presently a young woman
opened the door, when the one who came
struck her in the face with a sharp rook,
and felled and beat her there upon the
threshold. A bystander who parted theia
told me they were the wives of one man. It
was shocking!"
"Yes, it was frightful." she said, thickly,
drawing the back of her hand across her
forehead with a helpless air, "but I don't
know any other way; I never heard I
never was shown a better way."
"Love will show you, Trean ; but let it.and
love will teach you the way!" His voice
was tenderness itself.
"I have been learning a littlo since you
came," she said, looking up with smiling,
swimming eyes. With a murmur of glad
ness ho caught her to him and held her close
for a moment there among the lilacs. Then
steps sounded on the walk and they went
back together to the porch with their fuses
beaming. Trcan's father was coming round
the house, and a look of astonishment
spread over his sallow, haggard face. The
daughter shrunk back an instant, then
stood proud und !rcct before him holding
to Elchard" s hand. What a fine picture they
madc!
"Mr. Hartman," said the young man. re
spectfully, "your daughter has honored me
with her love. It gives mn great happiness.
Will vou not permit her to take mine ia re
turn, untroubled J the best gift I have !"'
The old man's hands began to shake and
his eyes tilled. "I seed it a corain', I seed
it a comin' from the first !"he said. "But I've
liked ye, an' believed in ye. an' I know yo'r
worthy of er, but it's a great trial. It ain't
accordin' to our religion, an' it's hard to
giv' 'er up, it's hanl to giv' er up!" For a
moment he seemed unable to go on, then he
faltered: "But I won't trouble ye, I won't
come atwixt ye, for she's the best child
God ever giv' me, an' has never had no one
to love but me, an now when I ain t got
much longer to stay I can't take her away
from one like yo'; on'y leave "er a little
while here; I shan't be long in tho way!"
The two happy young hearts were touched ;
a tender dew sprang into the bright eyes,
and the old man reached out his trembling
hands and took in each a moist, warm palm
and stood a moment, crying silently. It
seemed a type of life-sorrow and happiness
hand in hand, age waiting for death, and
youth eager to take the path that leads to
age.
After a long pressure of the warm hands
that lay in his, the gray and broken man
released them and turned away. He seemed
to totter as he went in, and something of the
real gravity of love and existence seemed to
descend upon the two whose young eyes
followed him.
Standing under the blooming vines their
lips met reverently, even so soon had auty
breathed upon their passion, making it a
thing more rational ami holy.
"You will stay with him, darling, till
then J"
"Yes, I can't leave him now. I never
had any one else to love until you came,
but him; he's good, and weak, and feeble,
and needs mc even more than you."
"Yes, but I shall not be far away!" and
he s,milcd into her sober eyes and kissed
her, and they went in.
The girl's father was standing near the
farther door with his cye3 fixed uon the
floor. Elchard laid a baud gently upou his
arm. "Don't feel badly about this, sir," he
said, cheeringly; "I am quite sure it will
prove a blessing to us aft. You will find
mc a good son, I am almost certain. Yoa
have been very kind to me, and I shall try
to be as kind us I may in return."
whispsred that it was not truo. O. father,
don't believe it any longer ! A bad thing on
earth ca't be a good thing in Heaven; an
evil can never save us! A thing that has
no reason within or without eau never be
true ! Love has told me this, and love is the
voice of God!"
Elchard could have knelt and worshiped
her. She seemed lifted out of her former
self, out of her wonted use of words, out of j
an uopeiessness. uer tatucr leu bac;c be
fore her and stared in wonder.
'Trean!" he gasped, "Trean!"
"It ain't worth while to warn me. father,"
she panted. "Love is greater than belief,
and love tells me that one man alone shall
be mine and I alone shall bo his. Love
can't be divided, and he who practices that
it can, but plays the beast! I pjt their false
hoods behind me, their pretended revela
tions are but filth ! Love is my revelation,
love is my guide; that I know is sweet, and
v.ise, and beautiful, and comes from God!"
"Trcan ! Trean ! ! l'uu're fiu.ud hutj th;
Ho'y (ihottP'niid tho bent figure wavered
toward her and sank down at her feet anc
lay still.
IN A SULTAN'S PALACE.
CHAPTER VII.
SOME MOKMON DOCTKINES.
Through a hidf score of quick heart-beats
the young couple stood speechless before
this seeming suspension of life, then, with
whispered fragments of sympathy and fear,
they sprang to the falicn man. It was like
death; the poor but powerful frame lay like
a flattened ruin, an ashen check resting on
the cool floor, and the gray hair tumbled
and outspread. Instantly the daughter had
the white head in her lap.
"The brandy in the cupboard ! " she said.
Almost with a sride E'Mhard placed it in her
outstretched bird; Uien the drawn lips the
l WtttI r-
alM eHJj)-!3-
tg?lWvCSWfL' "sy J
The Dally Ufo er th Iaaaates Recatated
by the Hours of Prayer.
The windows ami doors of the Arabian
houses stand open all the Aear round,
and arc only closed during the rainy
season. Life in the palace of the Sul
tan of Zanzibar was regulated by tho
hours of prayer, which take place five
times a day; including ablution and
changing of dress, they ocenpy three
hours. Persons of rank are roused be
tween four and half-past five o'clock a.
m. for the first prayer, but the majority
sleep until eight. The women of the
harem are gentry roused by a slave.who
begins to kneed them all over to quicken
the flow of the blood. In the meantime
the bath has been filled with fresh
spring water, and the garments, on
which jasmine and orange blossoms
have been strewn the night before, are
fumigated with amber and musk before
they arc put on. An hour is expended
on the toilet, and then every one has to
wish the fat her of the house good morn
ing before sitting down to breakfast.
After that the men get ready for the
audience chamber, and the women go to
the windows to watch for a stealthy
glance of some passing noble until the
old slaves who guard them call them
away.
At one o'clock the hour for second
prayer is announced, and then the
lithe-limbed daughters of the harem
are glad to take an hour's nap on the
soft woven mats with sacred mottoes
plaited in them, or to gossip over their
sherbet and cakes.
At four o'clock comes the fourth
prayer, when all the ladies dress in
their most elaborate afternoon cos
tumes, and another call is made on the
father of the bouse to wish him good
afternoon. Then the numerous family.
servants and all. sit down for their
evening meal and converse, accom
panied by an enormous barrel organ.
The fifth and last prayer comes at 7:30.
though it may be put off till bedtime by
those who arc busy.
Ten o'clock is the usual hour for re
tiring, and the ladies are attended by
their female slaves, whose duty it is to
watch their mistresses until they fall
asleep. All women r to bed fullv
dressed and wearing all their jewels.
The ex-Princess writes that at meal
times tjiey all sit down on a floor be
fore a table about three inches high,
with a ledge running around it like a
billiard-table. On this a great variety
of viands were placed, and all kinds of
sweets and dainties. The various dishes
mall plates symmetri-
rilll" 11 11 oTr?irv I fir !? am! nf
J thing was placed there beforehand no
still staring at service was required. Two people very
FARM AND FIRESIDE.
Bran, oats and oilmeal is the food
for growing pigs up to the time pump
kins are ripe. Rural Home.
Every ponltry-yard should have a
peach tree planted therein, as the peach
thrives well in poultry-yards and is
protected from the borer by the lien.
In removing crops from the soil
we take away plant food. This is the
chief cause of soil exhaustion. Lack.
f fertility is commonly due. in large
part or entirely, to lack of plant food.
Keep a spool of linen thread along
with your knitting balls. A stranM of
it knit into mittens and the feet of the
men's socks and the children's stock
ings insures them much longer wear.
If a farmer has plenty of patience
and is willing to give close attention to
details in the care of stock he can make
more money for food consumed front
heep than from any other stock.
Nutmeg Sauce: Two tablespoons
butter, one tablespoon flour and half a
cup of sugar creamed together. Pour
pn a pint of boiling water and stir un
til it thickens grate in half a nutmeg.
Escalloped Onions: Take eight
onions and cook in plenty of water with
one tablespoonful of salt two hours;
when tender, drain, put in a baking
dish, cover with one pint of cream
sauce, sprinkle with one cupful of
grated bread crumbs and brown in the
oven.
Plant fruit trees, do
give good after care and
you and your family will
abundantly rewarded with an article
of diet which, when sound and ripe, can
only be conducive to health and Ion-
it well, and
culture, and
ere Ionjr be-
1 father, uox'r roc k:-cw jic:"
wrinkled brow, the cold feet, the crumpled
hands, were bathed and rubbed, and with
such haste and warmth as only a life flicker
ing between worlds can react. Frocntiy
the dim eyes opened, theft widened wildly.
and the girl fetched a gasp of joy. Up out of
the unseen soul two fiaiucs of horror seemed
burning away through the glassy film that
covered the eyes that starch at her. a irreat
sweat broke out upon the forehead, and the ' were served on
wnoic irame quivered, "rather!" cried
the girl, "father! don't you
Trean!"
With an effort he sat an.
often ate from the same dish. Drinks
were not taken with the meals, and no
one said a word during their progress.
As lingers are preferred to forks and
her, then the eyes began toclear and he said.
in a toneof hoarse inquiry: "It ain't so then t
yo' ain't ben tetched: O." darter. I've ben in
hell! I've seed a vison 'er dreamed a tum
ble dream! I thou uht I was in tho snorrifc
an' seed ye alyin' dead with yo'r poro I knives, the eunuchs hand around basins
throat cut forsinin- the unpardonable sin, Jof perfumed water after each meal
out yo r oiooii it seenuM auvc an' turned to , v i- JmimnT
nre an' names an7 ran all round mc, an7
burned an' et into me, an' I couldn't put it
out!0, 1 could't put it out! It was tumble!"
end he seemed to writhe with the passage
of the memory.
"There, father don't mind; it was noth
ing but a dream,'' said the daughter, coax
iugly, but with a touch of terror in her voice.
"It was only a dream from vour troubling
so much. I shan't leave you as long as vou '
live, father, and I'll try to be a good girl,
better than I have been in the past if I can,
so don't trouble no more!"
fTO BE CONTIXCED.J
MEMORY AND DREAMS.
Robert ton! Stevenson 1'sy a Tribute to
Nature' Kneet Restorer.
The past is all of one texture whether
feigned or suffered whether acted out in
HONEST OLD ABE. -
Aa Instance of Lincoln's Praiseworthy
Profession! Honesty.
Some time early in the years follow
ing 1S50 the Hon. J. G. Gest. of this
county, was guardian of some minors
who had title to some land in Illinois,
and, deeming it to be to the interest of
one of his wards to sell the land, he
went to that State to make sale of it.
He went to the court through which he
would have to proceed, and upon a
conference with the judge of that court
he. for the first time, was made aware
that there was difficulty in hs way.
The judge told him it was the first
time an application had been made in
three dimensions, or only witnessed in that his court by a foreign guardian to sell
email tliAotni. nftliA Itfwit., YitsY. ...a T.aam . 1 , ? 111? . ... .. . .. . .
brightly lighted all night long after the
jets arc down, and darkness and sleep
reign undisturbed in the if maindcr of the
body. There is no distinction on the face
lands in Illinois, and thathedoubted bis
right to do so. Mr. Gest was himself
a good lawyer, and on careful exam
ination of the statutes of Illinois he had
of our experiences; one is vivid indeed, and t .,. ... ',,. . . . J, ,
one dull, and one nleasant. and anothor t who advised --"n to take counsel, and
one dull, and one pleasant, and another
agonizing to remember; but which of them
is what we call true, and which a dream,
there is not one hair to prove. The pasi
stands on a precarious footing; another
straw split in tho field of metaphysie, and
behold us robbed of it.
There is scarce a family that can count
four generations but lays a claim to somo
dormant title or some castle and estate; a
claim not prosecutable in any court of law,
but flattering to the fancy and a great al
leviation of idle hours. A man's claim to
his own past is yet less valid. A Darwr
directed him to a lawyer named Lin
coin, who, he said, would give him safe
I advice. He went to Mr. Lincoln's
( office aad found, he said in narrating
; the incident afterward, a tall, rather
bony man, with kindly expression of
face, and plainly dressed. He stated
his case to Mr. Lincoln, and that he
( wanted an opinion; also that he was
very anxious to get through with his
, business speedily and return home.
might turn up (in proper story-book , Mr. Lincoln examined the statutes then.
rnrit,y
0"V
Breaded Potatoes: Boil jmtatocs
in their skins until done, but nut too
soft. Peel them, cut them in thick
slices, ip them in beaten egg and roll
them in fine bread orzweiback crumb-.
Fry the slices in hot butter or drippings
until they are a golden brown and
serve.
In boiling meats take the fat from
the top of the water and save for cook
ing or. soap. In roasting meat pour the
fat out of the pan or dip it out befon;
it gets burned. It will be excellent for
use in cooking. But if it stats till tho
meat is done it will be nearly sure to
have a burned, unpleasant flavor.
A substantial dish without meat is.
the following: Wash and peel two
quarts 01 potatoes, peel anil slice s:x
ounces of onions, skin and bone two
large herrings, season with salt and
pepper, pour enough water on to cook,
bake an hour and a half and serve hot.
Any cold gravy, stock or dripping on
hand will be better than the water.
In summer swine graze and do
well on clover, and. indeed, are per
haps as healthy and mke as cheap
and satisfactory growth on that food a
on any other. There is no reason why
clover should not enter into the winter
rations of swine. Sweet clover hay
could be cut up into short lengths ami
fed wet, along with meat and bran,
without much trouble and with the best
results.
The liberal use of lime in a line
condition will greatly assist in reducing
old sod land that may be plowed for
corn. The lime should be divided into
two lots, one-third applied before plow
ing the sod. and the remainder after
the ground shall havo been turned
over, harrowing the surface after the
land shall have been plowed. The rains
will carry the lime down, and before
the corn crop shall be matured the
effects of the lime will be very marked.
fashion) in the secret drawer of an old
ebony secretary, and restore your family to
i'M ancient honors, and reinstate mine iu a
certain West Indian islet (not far from
St. Kitt's, as beloved tradition hummed in
my young cars) which was once ours, and j After examining through it
is now unjustly some one else s. and for , he placed it back on its shelf
mat. matter tin inc state ci tnc
"O, it ain't that, sir," ho cried, hoarsely.
"I know yo'r good, an' I like ye, but my dar
ter's lost in doin' this! she's lost for turnin'
agin counsel and revelation ! You kent save
'cr. Yo'r too line an' proud to be bad, but
yo'r of this poor worl', an' in tho end she
must go whar yo' do ! O, sir, one wanted 'er
that could' a' lifted 'er up hereafter! could
a' exalted 'er an' made 'cr one of his queens
in the eternal worl'! but now she's lost!
she's sinnin' away the Holy Ghost, an' kent
never bo pardincd but by the sheddin' of 'er
own pore blood!"
Elchard stood aghast; what doctrinal
abomination was this! The daughter
seemed to reel und droop under it. Sud
denly she rose to her full height, her
Grecian outline seemed to become nrm and ,
instinct with power. -'It's a lie !" she cried,
with white face and blazing eyes. "It's
shame put on women for shame's sake ! A
thousand times I've implored God on my
knees to tell me if I must become a vile
thing the mistress of a priest to gain a
home among the pure ! I have begged Him
to strike me dead if it. were true and let me
go into the darkness where nothing is ever
known. But He never told mc until He sent
love into my heart. Hero!" she cried,
striking her bosom quivcringly, "hero is
His messenger that never did an unclean
DOX'T GO, TREA!!"
always moved! Should he not stand alone
at last upon the heights! He turned about
and went downward into the mist. Nothing
but death should sunder them, ho said.
Yet the blood felt sweet in his veins, and
his step was bght; a single slow misgiving
could never overtake and silence the many
happy currents that went singing in and out
his heart. When he approached the house
the mist seemed to be lifting; a cool, under
wind had begun to fan it upward, and far
and near the bosom of the world came
heaving into view.
Trean was not visible. Up in her poor
little chamber she was walking to and fro,
her checks carmine, her eyes shining.. She
paused before her little "mirror; her face
surely had blossomed ! She pressed a hand
on cither side of the radiant apparition and
leaning back upon her lissome waist gazed at
it a moment in sheer delight. Tho vail of
dejection had falicn from it; it was beautiful.
She pushed back the soft masses of russet
hair from her temples and pressed her
hands there as if sho were dizzy with happi
ness. Her heart throbbed as if it would ! thing, and for days through every moment
burst. Oh ! this was Iter first real hour of i it has shouted : 'No !' ia every dream it has I piped up and sang as of ftki.
sugar i
trade) is not worth any thing to anybody.
I do not say these revolutions are likely;
only no man can deny that they arc pos
sible; and the past, en the other hand,
is lost forever; our old days and
deeds, our old selves, too, and tho very
world in which these scenes were acted, al
brought down to the same faint residuum
as a last night's dream, to some incontinu
ous images, and an echo in the chamber; ot
the brain. Not an hour, not a mood, net
glance of the eye, can we revoke; it is al
gone past conjuring. And yet conceive us
robbed of it, conceive that liitle thread of
memory that we trail behind us broken at
the pocket's edge; and in what naked nulli
ty sh;&M we be left ! for wo only guide our
selves, and only know ourselves, by these
air-painted pictures of the past.
tipon these grounds there are some
among us who claim to havo lived longer
and more richly than their neighbors ; when
they lay asleep they claim they were still
active; and among the treasures of memory
that all men review for their amusement
these count in no second place the harvest
of their dreams. Serlbner' Jlagazitu.
Canaries la aXohralag.
A lady in San Francisco had three cana
ries so tame that they flew about the house
at will. One sickened and died suddenly
The dead body wai taken from the cage and
laid on a table, and the otter two flew to ft
and examined it very carefully. Tbentlia?
went back to their cage and for over thirt;
days neither of them uttered a note. Al t5
that period of mournta was cyst tuj
book after book. Finally he took down
a volume and remarked. --This is
Story ou the Conflict of Laws.' I
tnt it mav give me some lijrht."
carefully
and said:
"For the first time has the question of
the right of a foreign guardian to come
into our courts to sell the lands of his
non-resident wards, situated in this
State, been presented to me. I hoped
that 'Story' would help me to solve it.
He does not. and I can not give you
an opinion without further examina
tion; you are in. a hurry to return home
and I will give you the best advice that
I can. Come here." He stepped to
the door and. pointing across the
street, said: "You see that lawyer sign?
That is the office of ex-Judge Logan;
go to see him; if there is a man in
Illinois who can give you an opinion at
once, he is the man; I am not."
"That." said Mr. Gest. "was the first
and only lawyer I have ever met who
had tho candor to admit that he was
not ready to give an opinion. It
was an instance of professional hon
esty worthy of all praise, and referring
me to Judge Logan in the manner he
diil was a rareinstance of magnanim
ity. "XeniaJOTorchligfc
For some time past telegraph wire
No. 4, along the line of the Wabash
road, in Indiana, has refused to work,
and on investigation it was found that
an old man had cut the wire and ran r
line into his house, where he was util
izing the electricity as a cure for rhcu-sialism.
IMPROVE THE HOG.
A Matter Which Deserves tho Attention
of ProgretslTe Farmers.
If the margin between the price of
corn and pork remains as great as it
has been during the past year, the in
ference is that the demand for a better
class of hogs will be greater than it
has been for a number of years. There
will be new herds built up. and ar
rangements made for breeding hogs on
farms where they have been abandoned
for years. Young farmers, cisting
aboutforthe most profitable product
of the farm, will not be long in decid
ing on this bianch. as promising thc
greatestand quickest returns for the
money and labor invested. Our ob
servations force the belief upon us that
farmers for a few years have not been
as careful about adding new blood to
their herds, as they should have been,
and the consequence is their hogs are
not as good as they should be. With
the combination of all breeds that in
convenient to use. they find themselves,
possessed of a class of mongrel swine
that are not profitable either for market
or breeding.
Every step removed from some pure-
fountain head makes matters worse.
But even with these things against the
quality of hog they bring a good
profit, and should make the farmer feel
able to invest in better stock. And
taking all these things into considera
tion, we can but think the demand for
pure bred stock will be better in th
near future than for a number of years
past. The demand during the past
year has started the current that way,
making an ambition among farmers to
excel once more in the quality of th&
porker, a laudable desire that benefit
the farmer and improves the quality of
pork given to the consumer. Years
ago it was the opinion among farmers
that all that was required to raise good
hogs was a fine thrifty sire, no regard
being taken as to the breed, fur. as Z
heard a man once say: "A hog is a
hog; and that, is enough." But this is
not enough. As much attention should
be given to th'i breeding of swine as of
hordes or cattle, and in tiie end they
.vill be just as profitable. Cor. Western
?low:ium.
dSfo