The Red Cloud chief. (Red Cloud, Webster Co., Neb.) 1873-1923, June 14, 1889, Image 7
ssssWJiwiw-? ;jg-gK:csa aagi'q ji gwm& Sjyaiiwa7iaigaaas!ap5gaiMa'ggaai f( iffTi i iTiiwiMlWWTiiMMwinwBnill BSSgSkjBMa&aKaBS gwf!rprrj"iT 'Jj,agr-rrr?gp"-;;T5ygy -ftH ;v-vt'- - igr - --". - r - , - .uun.. -LgTMaajj-jatg3Ea5BaBya;a5aw 3 W y . c LINES. Tfce ProfcKnor of Botany to Hit Fairest kf lupll. lv Thou tender, craceful little mail. I see thee now at play at tennis, la modesty of youth arrayed. 7aoa mmdest me of the daisy which to ea lisutened minds is yclcptUM ptrtnnit. X can bnt Iotc thee, little girl, I fain would call thee m'a tpota; Thca art blooming and as fair As that queen of the garden the rose; see Lin-scu- JCeta. My doting heart doth fly to thee la It to thine own heart notent voUnt; And in the garland of thy years X pray may come no rue, the proper name of which, by the bye, is Buta grateeUnt. For all thy bine (Hola) eyes. Thy lips and cheeks like blushing rma. Thou art as modest and as shy .As the common field flower popularly known as the butter-cup, but genetically as the RsniuieuXui lulboia. Thy lips like Cupid's bow appear. Or like a charming coral chalice. Thou art as innocent and pure Jks purest snowdrop the snowdrop is the col loquial came; in reality it is the Galan thus uituli. Although so cay and thoughtless thou. Thy joys on trantocness no'er border, . Thou art an airy butterfly Uutterfly is only the vulvar vernacular lor an insect of the PopHio family, Lepidopltra order. "When thou dost smile in maiden glee. Thy profile is a classic Grecian. Tfcy teeth to pearls I must compare (Pearls, by the way, arc merely bicarbonate of lime, lnterstratitied with animal mem brane; in mollusks the result of a diseased secretion). If thou dost lore me, dear, or no, I lore as Strcphon loved his Phyllis. I pray thy fair head maybe crowned With wreaths of laurel which as you proba bly know :s the Laiurut no'Ali. America. A MOMENT OF ASGER; The History of ISr. and Brownlowa Quarrel. Mrs. BY KOIIERT HOTE. CHAPTER IL Continued. The public prosecutor was indignant and exasperated. lie was used to speak to humble people who endeavored to please him and always were respectfully submis sive in his presence, and he could not admit the pretension of this man to treat him as an equal. He had been on the point of hav ing him arretted on the spot, upon the c casauon of insulting a law officer in the ex ercise of his functions: then he was afraid to open a prosecution on a personal inci dent. It is always disagreeable to acknowl edge that we have been treated disrespect fully. He had, besides, a perfectly regular means at his disposal to make his adversary understand that one can not thus attempt to baffle justice; it was to allow the pro ceedings to follow their normal course. The very same day he sent the papers to a judge, with his own brief to the court, and the next cay an inspector of police, accom panied by two detectives, presented him self at the house of Mr. Brownlow with a warrant of arrest. The prisoner made no resistance and no observation. In conform ity with the law he was taken within twenty-four fours to the Tombs and submitted to a first interrogatory. Asked as to whether ho wished to answer the complaint, the prisoner declared that the warrant of arrest had modified the situ ation. So far he had been a citizen acting in the fullness of his liberty; ho had de termined not to be forced to answer ques tions which no one had a right to ask him; he had become anry at his visitors. Now, as he was in the hands of the law, he bad no reason for refusing to answer. He did not consider himself when before the judge as a man in the presence of an equal, but as a prisoner standing before the representa tive of the law, and he was disposed to answer the questiens that might be ad dressed to him in so far as they bore di rectly upon the accusation. Consequently he told his name, first name, age, profession, his address and place of birth. He affirmed to the judge who questioned him that he could read and xvrite, and that ho had never been arrested before, and that he had satisfied his obliga tions as a citizen. But when themagistrate asked him ir he had lulled his wife ho sim ply answered: "No." "Where is she!" "I do not know." 'When did she go away!'' "On Tuesdav, the 14th, between seven and half-past seven o'clock.' "What circumstances rienarturef" have caused her " As to that, I do not owe any account to anv one." The judge remarked to him that this sys tematic refusal to answer singularly aggra vated his case, and even constituted, to tell tho truth, the onlv serious charge against him. He replied with an imperturbable coolness that he could not be prosecuted for the simple fact that his wife had left his house and that was the only fact he ac knowledged. "You accuse me of having killed my wife." said he. " I deny it. It is for you to furnish the proof. Show me her body. I can not rrove that I have not kilJed my wife. Prove to me that I have killed her." "But what reasons have you to refuse the explanations which would save you from an indictment of murder! If there is any thing of a delicate nature concerning the honor of vour name you must have con fidence enough in the justice of your coun try to know that it will not be divulged. The personal duty of the magistrate, as well as his professional honor, is a guarantee to you. If vou do not answer it is because you have something to hide. It is in your own inter est to speak, for whatever you have to hide could never be as grave as that of which vou are accused." .... "I shall answer no question which has not a direct bearingon the actof which I am accused. 8tatc your proofs; I shall discuss their value. Mv wife's disappearance is not a proof that I have killed her." After this interrogatory the judge made out a warrant of arrest against Brownlow, who was committed to prison. CHAPTER III. As soon as it became known that Brown low had not only been arrested, but that he was under formal accusation, and that his trial for murder would soon take place, the excitement which pervaded the neighbor hood of his handsome house on Fifth avenue abated. But the newspapers threw themselves with all the more earnestness into the mystery of clearing up the disap pearance of his wife. Their reports were sent out in every direction, and at times they supplemented the work of the detect ives, and at times they went into investi gations on their own account in a charac teristic way. The families of both Brown low and Champion were successfully in- lernewou ana emissaries vi mc mv hwd coastaaUy dogging the heels of the police and presenting themselves at headquarters to find the latest clew. Certain enterpris ing reporters visited the morgue from day to day and tried to identify bodies as the remains of Mrs. Brownlow, and many a sensational story produced good returns to its writers by the space given to the matter by all the principal papers in the city. The private life of Champion was laid bare be fore the public in a way that was little gratifying to that gentleman. Meantime the police continued their investigations by themselves, and gave as little information to the reporters as possible. The detectives called upon the servants of Mr. Brownlow, and used all the devices in their power to induce them to give testimony which should lead to a definite clew. The servants ad mitted that they had been present at some pretty lively discussions which were brought about by the jealousy of Mrs. Brownlow or the irritation of Mr. Brown low against her parents. But the dis agreement had never, apparently, gone further than high words between them. In these disputes Mrs. Brownlow never hesitated to give vent to her anger in the presence of the servants. As to what might have taken place on Tuesday, the 14th, they knew nothing except that when they left the house at seven o clock Mr. ana .Mrs. Brownlow were dressed to go out, and that when they returned both the master and the mistress were still absent, and further, that Mr. Brownlow returned alone at three o'clock in the morning. Although no definite facts, therefore, were developed in this testimony, the tenor of it was decided ly unfavorable. Whether they disliked their master or whether they had some foolish pride to satisfy in seeing the accu sations of which they had furnished the first elements corroborated, they certainly expressed the moral conviction that in their absence something terrible must have passed between the couple. As for the neighbors whom the detectives interviewed with unceasing perseverance, none had remarked whether Mr. and Mrs. Brownlow had gone out on that evening separately or together. The difficulty of establishing this first point was ono which caused the detectives the keenest anxiety. Brownlow in the few words which he had consented to utter had declared that bis wife had left the bouse between seven and half past seven. It was this point that sev eral of the detectives who were employed on the case discussed most seriously when they met one morning for a consultation in the chiefs office. One of the mostenter prisingand successful of the detectives on the regular force was Mr. Seth Ketcham. He had worked longer than any of the others upon the case, and on the point at issue said to his chief and colleagues: "Inasmuch as Brownlow declares that his wife left the house between seven and half past seven, it must be a falsehood. A man in his grade of society and of his peculiarly stubborn pride of character could not let any thing escape through inadvertence, and if he had furnished this indication it could only have been with the purpose of mislead ing justice. It is therefore reasonable to sup pose that Mrs. Brownlow did not leave the house in the way in which her husband indi cated. In all probability the deed was done indoors, and the body thereafter concealed in some way that we have to find out. In mv opinion, therefore, wo should search the house. In all probability Mrs. Brownlow was murdered without premeditation, probably in a moment of anger. Between seven and midnight, the hour when the servants had returned, the assassin had five hours to cover up all traces of his crime." "But," suggested the chief, "it is not conceivablo that, having committed the crime in the house, he could have carried the body on his back through the streets of New York. He would have been obliged to take a carriage. He could not have put the body into a carriage and taken it out again without making the coachman his accom plice. Now, he had had no time to prepare for this complicity, as he did not know an hour before seven o'clock that all the servants were to be out that night. There is just a bare possibility, however, that be may have planned this thing deliberately, for you will remember that he permitted his own coach man to goto the theater of his own free will, and it looks as if he had dismissed him for the evening with a special purpose. It certainly follows that his coachman was not the one who conspired with him to dis pose of the body. Therefore, although I agree that the house should be most thor oughly searched, it is highly important that we should look after all the hack-drivers in the neighborhood, if not all in the city and vicinity." The next day the search was begun as Ketcham had suggested. Almost all the detectives were confident that in the thorough search men of their calling know how to make they should find some direct clew to the crime in the house. For al though a hackman might have been in com plicity with Mr. Brownlow in the terrible "IT SEEMS PROBABLE SOW," HE SAID. affair, every thing pointed to premeditation, inasmuch as he had arranged matters so that he could be alone with his wife for several hours. The police searched not only every corner, every armoire and cupboard, from cellar to garret, and all the barrels and boxes and packages; they sounded the walls; they dug up the stones of the cellar that seemed to be loose; they ripped up the floors and tho steps of the stairs: for three days tbey devoted themselves to a systematic and unremitting search, and literally left no stone unturned that might by any possibili ty conceal a clew to the crime. They found nothing. They had to comeback to the first hypothe sis that Mr. Brownlow had induced his wife to leave the house and had led her to some out-of-the-way spot and there murdered her, where eventually they would find the body in sucn a state of decomposition that its identity could not Toe established. It would only be one more body to add to those which are found daily in the river and by the docks and in out-ef-the-way places. Another consultation was held in the chiefs office, in fact, they were held every day, but at this one a new theory was suggested, this time also by Ketcham. "It seems probable now," he said, "that this deed could not have been committed in New York at all. Brownlow must have mnni . knowa how ditlcult it to to hide for any length of time the traces of a murder upon ground which is traversed daily in all direc tions and watched over by a police whose effective force is the standing admiration of the entire country. He had plenty of time not only to get out of the city but to go for a long distance. There are a great many railroads running from New York with fre quent trains in the early evening. He could have taken any one of those and gone out as far as from fifty to one hundred miles and yet have had two hours or more in which to carry out his purpose and return to the city by the last train and reach his home, as the servants will testify that he did, at three o'clock in the morning. It will be necessary, then, to have the search proceed until all ground is covered within a radius of one hundred miles from New York." This plan of the campaign was so expen sive and so difficult that if the murder had not been one of unusual interest the detect ives would never have thought of under taking it. But the popular clamor was so great, the newspapers were so constant in their publication of sensational clews, and editorials were hurled in such volume unon the department as to compel it to take every chance, no matter how chimerical it might seem, to ferret out the truth of this mystery. The general cry was: "Let there be the same law for tho rich man as well as for the poor." The wildest sort of stories were circulated and even pumisnca to me effect that the wealthy friends of Mr. Brownlow had bribed the police, from the chief to the humblest patrolman, not to find evidence in this case. Smarting tinder this sort of criticism, therefore, and with a nat ural pride in their work, the detectives put their most earnest endeavors into the case and studied and worked night and day to get at the truth. One of the detectives who had been au thorized to mako special investigations into the family ofMrs.Brownlow reported one day that tho theory of sudden anger would real ly not hold in this case; that there must be some other satisfactory motive for tho deed, and that he believed that it would bo found by examination of the papers of Mrs. Brownlow. TJptothistimeall the private documents found in the Brownlow mansion, when it had been starched, had been care fully kept without examination. The de tective averred that the Champion family felt so strongly that Mr. Brownlow had married their daughter for the sake of her money that he now believed that he had been instrumental in putting her out of the wav for the sake of getting a secure and undivided hold upon it Accordingly, an examination was made of the property which Mrs. Brownlow held. It was found that nothing had been touched by Mr. Brownlow, and that the property which stood in her name consisted almost entirely of unregistered bonds, which, as everybody knows, are good for their face value on pre sentation. Among tho papers, however, was a will made by Mrs. Brownlow, in which her hus band was nominated as her sole heir, and this will bore a date six days previous to the crime. The finding of this testament created a sensation among the detectives, but its discovery was for a considerable period kept from the public. They knew now what interest the husband had in the death or disappearance of his wife. There was only one objection to this theory: In order to inherit this property he must pro duce a certificate of death of his wife. But after her disappearance this was im possible. However, it would have been comparatively easy to overcome this, for as long as the death of Leonora was not regu larly proven Mr. Brownlow remained in practicable possession of the fortune as the administrator, and it would have been very difficult to oust him from his position. If, later on, her death should become an estab lished fact, the will would then set aside any adverse claim. It seemed to be a clev erly executed scheme. CHAPTER IV. As time wore on the situation of the ac cused became more serious. It was more and more impossible to believe that Mrs. Brownlow had left the house of her own free will. After discussion of all the the ories they could possibly evolve, the report' ers, in order to keep the matter well before the public in an attractive shape, origin ated this theorv: That Mrs. Brownlow had simply gone with her husband's consent to take a journey, tho object of which they did not care to reveal. Althougnthis tneory gained credit in the papers, especially be cause of efforts on the part of some of Mr. Brownlow's friends to substantiate it, the detectives paid little attention to it. It was so evident that Mrs. Brownlow, had such been the case, would have returned as soon as she had heard the accusations directed against her husband, that the theory seemed to be of no importance. Day after day, of course, the detectives gave Mr. Brownlow every opportunity to talk and state his side of tne case, but he obstinately re mained silent. It was disappointing to the detectives engaged upon the case that they could not get direct and incontrovertible evidence of the fundamental fact in the case, namely, that Mrs. Brownlow was dead. The fact of her disappearance need ed no proof; the object of the accused in committing the crime was established; he had refused to account for the time passed, where and how no one knew, during the evening and part of the night of Tuesday, the 14th. And his attitude from the time of his arrest bad been compromising in the extreme; but there was still no evidence that seemed to justify conviction. Ono day the detectives found just the clew that they seemed to have been waiting for so long. It came partly as chance and partly as the result of keen detective work. Seth Eetcham had reasoned with himself that as Mrs. Brownlow had left the house, or had at all events been last seen in evening dress, and as those garments were not found in the house at the time of the search, she must have had them on whenever the deed was committed. Next to the difficulty of hiding the body would be the difficulty of disposing of this peculiar clothing. He bad made tireless searches among the second hand clothing stores and pawn-shops of the city to see if therein might not be found some of the garments which Mrs. Brownlow had worn, his idea being the vague one that perhaps Mr. Brownlow had taken that means to disguise any trace of the crime that might be found on the clothing. Hav ing found nothing in any of those places that be went through, he thought over the possible ways in which the crime might have been committed. Any noisy violence in the city would be liable to attract atten tion; therefore he concluded that tne aeea must have been done some other war. In the course of his investigations he found that the deck hand of a ferry-boat that had been crossing the North river upon that night about tea o'clock had seen a man and wom an quarreling in low tones upon the after part of the boat. He had paid bnt little attention to them, although he confessed that his post of duty should have been at that end of the boat. He went forward to the engine-room for a moment, and when he returned he saw the man standing by the rail alone. As he ap proached the stranger the man turned abruptly and walked into the gentlemen's cabin. The deck hand had paid no atten tion to it, because circumstances of that natare are so common where crowds assess I We, aad had thought nothing farther 0ff it until the detectives had put their usaal inquiries to him as to whether he had seen such people as Mr. and Mrs. Brownlow come over on his boat on the night in ques tion. Eetcham reasoned from this that the murder had been done upon tho ferry-boat, and he strongly believed that there was a clew to the crime. He was therefore watch ing the river as patiently as possible One day a ragamuffin, who was fishing from the end of a long dock that ran out into the North river, pulled up something heavy on his line. He knew that it was no fish, and was in some disgust that his line should have caught in a snag. But when he brought the object to the surface it proved to be a garment of some kind. He quickly pulled it up to the wharf and found at the end of the line a fashionable opera cloak in an advanced state of ruin. The cloak was made in the latest fashion, in black Indian cashmere, embroidered in gold passementeries. Few such garments are worn by people who cross on the ferry boats or who ratnblo about the docks. The ragamuffin was much rejoiced at his find, and, although the garment was so nearly spoiled, he believed that he could realize a considerable sum upon it by dis posing of it to a second-hand dealer. As he was going off the wharf with it a policeman, whose beat lay in that quarter, approached him and demanded what he had with him. The ragamuffin was obliged to disclose his find, and tho policeman, believing that in it might be found a clew to either some crime or somo accident, took him and the garment to the station house. There it naturally came under the eyes of the detectives whe had been working upon the Brownlow case, and the greatest sensation that had oc curred since the news of the disappearance was created by the identification of this cloak as that of Mrs. Brownlow s. Her dressmaker was hunted up, and stated to the detective that the garment had been made especially for Mrs. Brown low, and that none other like it had ever been turned out of her establishment. It was, therefore, certain to the detectives TIIK RAGAMUrrtX WAS OBLIGED TO DISCLOSB nis FIND. that Mrs. Brownlow had been murdered and her body thrown into the river. The garment, being a loose one, might have worked away from the body as it lay at the bottom of tho river and have floated down miles away from the spot where it was thrown in. If there had been no other evidence in which to identify the garment it was procured from the examination made by a chemical expert. He scruti nized very carefully the oxidization that had resulted from the immersing in the metal of the passementerie trimmings in the water, and from the thickness of the crust thns laid on he determined, in o scientific way, that the garment had been lying in the water just the length of time that had elapsed since the disappearance ol Mrs. Brownlow. TO BK C05T1NUED.1 WHEN THINGS GO WRONG. Views of a Writer ho Believes That Sweet Are the Vses of Adversity." There are times when every thing seems to go wrong. From seven o'clock a. m. till ten p. m. affairs are in a twist. You rise in the morning, and the room is cold, and a button is off, and the breakfast is tough, and the stove smokes, and the pipes burst, and you start down the street nettled from head to foot. All day long things are ad verse. Insinuations, petty losses, mean ness on the part of customers. The ink bottle upsets, and spoils the carpet Some one gives a wrong turn to the damper, and the gas escapes. An agent comes in de termined to insure your life, when it is al ready insured for more than it is worth, and you are afraid some one will knock you on the head to get the price of your policy: but he sticks to you, showingyou pictures of Old Time and the hour-glass, and death's scythe, and a skeleton, making it quite certain that you will die before your time unless you take out papers in his company. Besides this, you have a cold in your head, and a grain of dirt in your eye, and you are a walking uneasi ness. The day is out of joint, and no surgeon can set it The probability is that if you would look at the weathervane you would find that the wind is northeast and you might remember that you have lost much sleep lately. It might happen to be that vu are out of joint instead of the day. Be careful and not write many let ters while you are in that irritable mood. You will pen some things in the way of criticism or fault-finding that you will be sorry for afterwards. Let us remember that these spiked nettles of life are part of our discipline. Life would get nauseating if it were all honey. The table would be poorly set that had on it nothing but treacle. We need a little vinegar, mustard, pepper and horse-radish that brings the tears even when we do not feel pathetic. If this world were all smoothness, we should never be ready for emigration to a higher and better. Blustering March and weeping April prepare us for shining May. This world is a poor nitching-post Instead of tying fast on the cold mountains, we had better whip up and hasten on toward the warm inn, where our good friends are look ing out of the window watching to see up come up. N. Y. Observer. Sats a Western exchange: A practical revivalist in this neighborhood requested all in the congregation who paid their debts to rise. The rising was general. After tak ing their seats a call was made for those who didn't pay their debts, and one solitary individual arose, who explained mat e was an editor, and could not, because the rest of the congregation were owing him foi their subscriptions. m m Ax absent-minded doctor, who had con siderable investments ia real estate, was about leaving a patient after writing a pre scription, when he was asked for directions as to how the medicine was to be taken. "Oh, yes," he said, "I forgot One-thira down and the balance in one and two years." Poo scrroa (to rich belle who has ac cepted him) "I can not givyou diamonds, darling; I am poor!" Rich belle "Oh, never mind, Edwin! I can buy my own, all I want; but you caa give m a ore aioaal ruby or sapphire bow aadtnex ' HANGING FEELS GOOD. Se Says a Yoan- Ma Who Has Gea Through the Kxperieac. I learned from the hotel clerk here, says a New York Herald correspondent at Elmira the other day. that a young plumber doing-business on the prin cipal street hod once been hanged, and when cut down was thought to be dead. Here seemed a good chance to inves tigate from first hands the tortures of the operation which has relieved the State of so many of its ornamental citizens. This young man's name is Miles Doyle. He is a fine, strapping fellow, a member of Assemblyman Bush's crack Twenty-sixth Company. He has always resided in Elmira, where his parents were among the first settlers long before it became a city. The event which culminated in his hanging happened five years ago. and at the time attracted much attention from the local press, although his de scription of his feelings while dang ling by the neck was never recorded. It was a school-boy's escapade. While chasing a rabbit through the grounds of ex-Alderman Hughes, he attempted to run over a raised platform upon which the housewives stand while hanging clothes upon a revolving reel. There is no dato obtainable as to the length of time which ensued from tho moment he ran upon the platform and the time when a servant girl opened the kitchen door and was hor rified to see a young man, his face black and blue, dancrlinir from tho rope on this reel. Ona glance at the distorted features convinced her that the youth was dead, but she gave a shriek which called the neighbors to the scene. Ex-Speaker JereMcGuire was among tho first to arrive, and with consider able presence of mind cut young Doyle down and, with the assistance of Mrs. Hughes, proceeded to resuscitate him. At first it was thought life was extinct, but in less than half an hour he had been sufficiently restored to be con veyed to his home. Such is the narrative of the occur rence, all tne parties named being well-known residents of this com munity. I found young Doyle at his mother's jesidence, 660 Columbia street. The young gentleman was making active preparations to join his military com pany. When I asked him what were his feelings while hanging he replied: At first I experienced a slight wrench in the neck, but no pain fol lowed it 1 thought then that I had jumped from the top of a high building. and when goingdown 1 kept wondering when I was going to alight. Gradually the air seemed to thicken, and then I thought I wasn't going to fall any further, but that something under me kept me floating in the air. I could hear distant music, and a wonderful light flashed through the scene that made the whole place the most beauti ful I had ever seen. I felt awfully happy, and when 1 recovered my senses my first thoughts were of resentment to the rude persons who took me away from my beautiful vision. I think hanging is about as happy a death as one can choose, if he's got to go." A TANK INCUBATOR. New Way or Hatching- Chicks for the Philadelphia Slarket. Not many spring chickens are being raised by incubators in Berks County, Pennsylvania, which clings to the old fashioned way. But Mr. Hoch. of Oley, made a success in that line and intro duced some new ideas. He makes his own incubators. He runs two of them this spring, the one having a capacity of 350 eggs and the other 100. His in cubators are heated with hot water, the tank being immediately over the top of the drawer containing the eggs. Mr. Hoch claims that this is far better and safer than the oil-lamp heat. Each day, two or three times, he taps off a quantity of water and refills the tank with boiling water, enough to keep the temperature in the egg drawer at 103 degrees. When the eggs have been in the incubator five or six days they arc tested, and Mr. Hoch says he can then tell whether they are fertile or not The sterile eggs are thus removed and the good ones placed back in the incu bator. At the end of tho time required by a hatching hen three weeks the drawer is full of chicks, nearly every egg producing one. But where do you get a mother from to take care of the chickens?" asked an Eagle representative. Mr. Hoch replied that he had a building for this purpose called a brooder-house. The building is forty six feet long by ten wide and ten feet high. The side toward the east slants to within two feet of the ground, and is supplied with windows which, by means of a twine and pulley on the in side, are raised and lowered at will. Thirty-six feet of the house are divided into pens four feet wide, and in these the chicks are placed as soon as hatched. The floor of the house is double, with four inches of space be tween the two. In the space is a coil of inch pipe and the building is heated by the hot-water system. The water is heated in tho ten-foot room at one 2nd of the building. Instead of using a stove, as others do, to heat the watc. Mr. Hoch merely walled in a coil of five one-inch pipes one foot long, with a fire-place beneath. In each four-foot pen a small tin pipe protrude about two inches above the floor. Over this is placed an ordinary stool with four legs about three inches long. Around the outside of the stool is tacked a piece of calico, which hangs nearly to the floor. Under this stool the chicks gather aad are as comfortable as under 7ataer ura are aa conuoretuie as unuer the wiagsof ahenaad out of daogex of in9cts.-Keadinjr (Pa.) Eagla. FARM AND FIRESIDE. Land poor and poor land are evils' to be avoided. Western Plowman. It is better to kill one or two of tb young pigs than to allow the sow to attempt to provide milk for a large litter. Milk is a much better food for poultry during the summer than corn. Corn is heating and fattening, two conditions that, as a rule, ought to be avoided, unless feeding fortbe market. No farm is complete unless it con tains orchards. Not only should tho apple be given a place but all other va rieties of fruit The small fruits should be grown especially for family use. and a large supply of all kinds should be canned for winter. A green-pea omelet can bo made with four eggs and half a pint of boiled green peas or canned peas, poured in side the omelet before it is folded. As paragus may be used in the same way. Only the green ends should be used after they are boiled, drained and seasoned. The best tonic for fowls in the drinking water is ten drops tincture of iron in a gallon of water. Once a week a teaspoonful of tincture ef cam phor is excellent if the fowls are de bilitated. If the flock is in good con dition nothing but pure, fresh water need be allowed, along with a variety of food. ' A splendid substitute for brush for peas or pole beans is made by driving strong stakes about twelve feet apart in the row, leaving thom thirty Inches high and fastening a smooth fencing wire along the tops and another within six inches of the ground. Wrapping twine is then passed back and forth be tween the wires. The stakes and wire cost but little, are easily put away, and will last for years. By feeding one kind of soft food too continuously, to the exclusion ol raw grain entirely, some poultry keepers have gotten their flocks intc an unhealthy condition, and conclud ing that soft food is the cause of it de cide to discard its use altogether. Either extreme is to be avoided. It is a bad plan to lay down strict undevia ting rules about many things; in feed ing fowls one must be governed to a great degree by the state of the weathet and its temperature. In whipping cream there are sev eral precautions to be taken. While cream will not whip if either too thick or too thin, cream should be perfectly cold to whip. Many persons use ac egg beater, but the froth made in this way is apt to be lumpy. The best chum has a single dasher. To whip easily, set the churn a little inclined and use very short strokes, with the force in the down stroke. A pint of cream should treble by whipping. Use a deep dish, and as the froth collects skim it off into a dish and set it on ice. When the quantity of cream is too low to al low the churn to act, add a little milk and the cream can be reached by the churn. "SCAB" IN SHEEP. TJew te Treat the Disease Tobmce aad Sulphar a m Dtp. What is called "scab" in sheep is s cutaneous disease, closely allied tc mange in horses and itch in men, foi in all three the soreness and inflamma tion of the skin are due to the presence of a minute parasitic mite, usually called an acarus, which burrows in the skin, loosening the hairs or wool. II one of the female acari is placed on the wool of a healthy sheep she will quickly crawl down to the root of it and bury herself in the skin. These female acari bring forth from eight to fifteen young at a litter, and these spread over, the animal, and wherever they find lodgment make small sores and cause the wool to drop out Old and un healthy sheep are first attacked and suffer most, but if the disease is neg lected it will spread to the most healthy and vigorous, and even young lambs will sooner or later become affected. The best and cheapest treatment for this disease is to dip the entire flock, lambs as well as the old and fully grown, in some kind of liquid that will soften the scab and poison the mites. The dipping should be done as soon as the sheep are sheared in spring, for at this time the liquid will readily reach every part and destroy the mites. The most common and perhaps best sheep dip in use consists of tobacco and sul phur in the proportions of four ounces of tobacco and one of sulphur to one gallon of water. If a large flock of sheep are to be dipped, then kettles of sufficient capacity must be provided to boat the liquid, and also a tank or box large enough to admit the entire body of the largest sheep. The tobacco should be steeped in hot water until its strength is extracted, and the sulphur then stirred in. The liquid should then be poured into the dipping vat and ita temperature reduced to about 120. when it is ready for use. Each animal should be entirely immersed except the eyes and mouth, then lifted out care fully aad held on a platform for a few minutes for the liquid to drain off and run back into the tank. By using tobacco stems the cost of the dipping liquid will be greatly reduced, and still be equally as effective as one made of a better quality of tobacco. The cost of dipping a large flock will not exceed five cents per head, and the gain ia the growth of wool, health, and comfort of the sheep will far exceed the cost of this operatioa. Sheep ticks and otner Terrain infesting sheep will also be de stroyed by the tobacco and sulphur. In Europe arsenic spirits ot turpentine aad other poisons are used in making whmi are called sheep dips;" bat to- bacoo aBd sulphur are eauallj effica- ..; .. fcarmlASfl to thOStt WnO STW , , . v i it & J v f ! t-ep. a. aua, as wilaftVi thftv ! ( s :u s- & M .&! Jr- i ( Sfi