" r-xi - H-msrx- i WE THREE. The wild bird's nest dips a quaint salute to the summer wind as he passes. And tnc half -ope'd "flowers dance a minuet to the rustling of reefls and Krasse3, And the waves roll on in a jolly sweep to ferry him over the river. For his path is the path of a merry heart, and he laughs on his way forever. She green leaves bowashc hurries on, as though they opined that he knew them. And the long limb? scrape on the cottage roof as ho cheerily whistles through them; And he sings to me. dear brother, the songs that wc used to sing together V.'hcn we lay In the bhadc, and heard the voice that came with the windy weather. And wc were three, wc two and the wind, for lie was a playmate merry, VTith his dreamy songs that ho learned In the court of some wonderful woodland fairy. And ha sings them still in a gentle strain, and the early faith he is keeping. As he kisses the Uowcr on tho hillside there, where you for years have been sleeping. And wc are three, as In days of old, for tho trio shall n-vcr lc broken. Though the time may bo when I corns to you with a boyLsh smile as a token; Ar. Ithe hearts of none shall be as true, though to-day they may dearly love us, A3 iLc ore dear friend who ever will sing his lullaby sweet above us. Carl Smith, ia Harper's Weekly. ,topy er"Vtf.Pi? if isnirqiT. ijnjy ESI CANrUo;4'C- CHAPTER XXVI. Co:.TIXUED. Ulatchford was conducted without de-1 lay to Scraggs' oilicc where everything1 was explained to him. He listened quietly to the whole story, but as ieraggs revealed to hira the sufferings of .lohn Green's family and the villainy of Harry Pearson, the old man's face grew ashy and his gray head dropped low on his breast, while ever and anon a heartrending groan escaped him. It was a minute or two after Scraggs fin ished his hurried account before the old man moved or spoke, but at last he raised his head and cried: "My God! my God! how I have sinned. My child dying of want, and the viper I have warmed to my breast lK-traying my child's child to ruin. This i more than I can stand, men: I can not bear it another instant. Show me this scoundrel, and I'll put a bullet through his black, villainous heart. Come. I must see him." It was all Scraggs and the doctor could do to get the old man quieted down, but at last they succeeded in inducing him to listen to reason, and Iseraggs unfolded his plan of procedure. Pearson is going to Green's to-night after the girl, and we must arrange to get there before him. Wc can never see him here, for he will be in hiding', but we can head him off there. For fear he may get there before us and miss us on the road, I will have men on the watch for him at the depot with in structions to detain him if he comes back there. In that way everything ,Avill le safe, and we'll catch him some where in the round." This proposition was readily agreed to by all, and then Scraggs continued: "We want to get away from here without attracting- attention, so while Dr. Uascom conducts Mr. Ulatchford to his house to await us, Paul and I will seeure a carriage and drive out that way. From the doctor's house we will proceed to Green's. Now, let's get out of here and begin to move." Within a surprisingly short time Scraggs had completed all his arrange ments, and with his companions was moving rapidly in the direction of John Green's place. It lacked but a few minutes of eight o'clock when the carriage rolled down the long slope in front of the cabin, and Louise from her position at the window hearing the rumble of the vehicle and the clatter of the horses' feet, felt that the most trying- moment of her life was at hand. She had no other thought than that Pearson was coining, and at this near approach of the climax of her sacrifice, she found herself unable to bear up longer. Her fortitude forsook her and she laid her head down on the window sill and wept. IJut quickly recovering she left the house and ran to the place of meet ing Pearson had mentioned, and there waited for the carriage. A moment later it drew up. stopped, and a man sprang- out. lie was at S . li ; : fV j& n-r. re? i ny -c XT'. s a n i-,$jriu s-va "ttt7 j rTY k Sa GOD BLESS YOIT BOTH.' Touise's side in an instant and had his arms about her, and she felt her senses receding when a well-known voice Tpoke her name. "Oh, Paul. Paul!" she cried, "is it .you?" 't is, darling," Paul replied, "and you are safe, thank God." and again and again he strained her to his breast and kissed her. "See here," cried the old doctor as he came tumbling out of the carriage, "it .seems to me like that is a little too one -sided. You have no right to monopo lize things, Markham, and by your leave I'll take one or two of those kisses." "Take them and welcome, doctor, if Louise is willing, for you saved her for :ine. "Ah, you blessed old doctor," Louise vai ifi. ;viy-'.7- rt ml 4 -S 44 cried as she flew into his arms. "IIow much I have to thank you for." "Tut, tut, child," the old man said, quickly, as he drew his hand across his eyes. "Let's not be foolish. Here, Markham, she's yours; take her and clear out. Here, Louise, come back here. There's another here who wants to see you. Here's your grandfather, Ulatchford. And here's Scraggs. Con found it all! Scraggs is the man for you to thank. It was hira that saved you from Pearson; but you mustn't kiss Scraggs. for he's bashful." "Am I really free, of that man?" Lou ise asked, as she nestled in her grand father's arms and supported his aged head on her shoulder. "Free of him?" the doctor repeated. "Well, 1 reckon you are. .lust let him come here to-night and we'll make the world free of him, too." "And papa?" "He's all right. We'll attend to that, won't we, Scraggs?" "I guess we'll be prcttv apt to." "That's what we will. IJut here, confound it all, we're keeping Ulatch ford waiting here while we're running on like a pack of fools, and he wants to see his daughter. Come, let's go on to the house." So talking away as excitedly and happy as a boy over a new toy, the good old doctor led the way to the house, while Scraggs and Ulatchford came after him, and Paul and Louise followed a little further behind, arm in arm, as happy as ever two ycung souls were. When they approach?'! the door the old doctor stopped, saying: "We must be careful not to excite l Mrs. Green, so if you folks will wait uuisiuc nere just a ramuic x n go in unu break the news to her." "For God's sake don't be long, then," Ulatchford pleaded. "I have been too long away from my child already, and I must see her quickly." "All right, all right," replied the doctor as he bustled away. "I'll not lose a second." Coming into the room he tried to hide his joy and assume a grave air, but the great happiness that filled his kind old heart to overflowing surged up to the surface and showed itself in his eyes and face in spite of him. John and Mary both saw at once that the doctor was overjoyed, but they never dreamed of its cause bearing any relation to them, so they said nothing-. The doctor approached Mary's side, saying: "Well, how is my patient to-night?" "Some better than when you were last here," Mary replied. "Hum, glad to hear it- Guess your father will be glad to know it, too. Don't you think so?" "I don't know, doctor. He seems to have forgotten me entirely." "No, he hasn't, though. I've heard from him since I was here." "Have .you? What did you hear?" Mary cried eagerly. "Oh, not much. He Iovcsyou, though, as well as he ever did, and I think we'll get him out here before long." "Oh, doctor, do you think so, indeed?" "Yes, I do. In "fact I know it." "When will he come?" "Why, pretty soon, I expect. Next week or to-morrow, or he might come to-night." "Oh, doctor, he's here now. I know he is from your looks. Where is he? Let me see him quick." At that moment the door opened and the old man entered. He tottered across the floor and with the words, "My child," sank on his knees by the bedside and laid his head elose by his daughter's and in silence wept. The doctor motioned them all from the room, and with noiseless step they obeyed him, leaving father and child alone together. It was a pitiable sight to sec the once proud, cold old man, now kneeling in deep contrition at the side of the one he had so deeply wronged, and it was a beautiful thing to sec how readily the wronged child's heart went out in forgiveness and love to the aged parent forgetting in a mo ment all her sufferings, and all his neg lect and coldness. It was a sight that touched every one present, and even Scraggs, who was considered adaman tine at heart, was seen to withdraw a little to one side and mop his eyes vig orously several times. Alter awhile they all went back- into the room to find the father and daugh ter more calm and collected, and after John had welcomed Ulatchford and they had shaken hands and buried the past, the doctor said: "Well, Scraggs, we have done all the harm we can. so we may as well gc. I expect our room would be more valu able than our company." "You must not go, doctor," cried Mary, "until I have thanked you for what yon have done." "Pshaw, pshaw, Mrs. Green, I haven't done anything. It was Scraggs who brought this about." "It wasn't," said Scraggs, "it wasBas com." "Come, Scraggs, you know better than that. It was you who sent the telegram." "Well, it was yon who did the rest. It was yon who managed the broken limb, and without that what would the balance have amounted to?" "Well, wc won't quarrel," said the doctor. "So you may thank whom you please, Mrs. Green. Now we'll leave you, promising to call again to-morrow. Good night." "Good night, and God bless you," re plied Green, rising and taking- the doc tor's hand. "And you, too, Scraggs. God bless you both." John and Mary had not been in formed of the lull import of Ulatch- ford's coining, and they were totally ig norant of everything relative to Pear son's conduct to Louise. They only knew that Ulatchford had been brought to his daughter with a repentant and for giving heart, and they had no suspicion of their child's narrow escape from a ! terrible fate. The doctor and Scrainrs thought it best to keep that matter se cret, and accordingly agreed to say nothing about it. They arranged to call on the morrow to further confer with Ulatchford on matters of business, and then drove away. "This is a nice piece of business for a money lender to be cugaged in," re marked the doctor as they drove back to Magic City. "You have forfeited your right to your occupation, Scraggs, and have disgraced your calling, by showing that you have a heart. 1 shall report you, sir." "All right, doctor," said Scraggs, "and I'll retaliate by reporting you to the medical profession." "Report me? What have I done?" "I shall inform the world that you kept a patient in bed a week under the impression that he had a broken limb when he had only sustained a slight sprain." Uoth of those old fellows laughed im mensely at their witticisms, and kept up their chat and their mirth until they reached their destination. They were in great spirits that night, as well they might be, for they had witnessed a world of happiness, and joy is always contagious. They were not only greatly pleased with their work so far, but each had mental ly resolved to carry it on farther, and this resolution was another well spring of joy to their hearts. Dr. Uascom had decided to take Paul into his practice, which was enough for them both, and Scraggs had decided to sell Green's farm and get John settled in business at Magic City. He knew of a good opening for a man of Green's honesty and ability, and he resolved to get him into it. CHAPTER XXVII TUK CONCLUSION. The flight of Pearson was discovered tjy Scraggs at an early hour the next morning, and a little later upon making a visit to the bank he learned of his em bezzlement of Ulatehford's money. He immediately telegraphed in various di rections hoping to apprehend the rascal, but it proved all in vain. Pearson made good his escape. Upon returning to Green's as agreed, Scraggs and the doctor found Ulatch ford in a critical condition. The ex citement of the last few days, together with the mental suffering it had brought him, had been too much for him, and now they found him weak and failing. Dr. Uascom examined the old Tim END DREW NEAR. man closely, and though he made no re port on the case his face became grave and thoughtful, and those who saw it felt sure that there was something seri ous in his patient's ailment. Scraggs would have avoided telling what he had discovered that morning, but Ulatchford insisted on hearing everything about Pearson, and asked so many questions regarding him that Scraggs was eventually forced to reveal all he knew. The old man groaned and gnashed his teeth, and for a long time said nothing. At last, raising Himself in bed, he spoke, looking steadily at his daughter. "Mary," he said, "I have come to you at last, but I have come as a pauper. I come empty handed, and with nothing but my poor love to give you. That which I have slaved for. and which of right was yours, has been stolen from me by the one I took to my heart in yottr stead. I turned you from my door and took Harry Pearson in. I left you to starve while I lavished money on him. And now he has robbed me and left me penniless, with no roof but yours to shelter my head. My punish ment is great, but it is not more than I deserve." For three or four days the broken hearted old man lingered on, growing weaker hour by hour in spite of all Dr. Uascom could do, and at last it became apparent that death would soon claim him. The Greens exerted themselves to the utmost to make his last hours as pleasant as possible, but their kindness and unselfish attentions augmented rather than diminished his sorrows, since they only too plainly re minded him of the great sin of his life. He never spoke of his wife during all his illness, and it appeared that he had forgotten her. All his talk was of his daughter and her mother, and over and over again he accused himself of his neglect of them. "Thank God, thank God," he said one day, "I have been spared to meet my child and win her forgiveness. Thank God that I am permitted to die under her roof and with her face near me." At last the end came, and the poor old man who had wrecked his life through a terrible mistake, slept the sleep of the dead. Whatever his re ward beyond the grave, wc know not. He went into the hands of a just God and his reward was in accordance with justice and right. He had suffered the tortures of a thousand deaths in those few days following the terrible awak ening to the wrongs of his life. There is not much raorc to tell, and a few more pages will end this story. Paul and Louise were married short ly after the scenes just described, and set up housekeeping in a home of their own next door to Dr. Uascora's. Paul went into the old doctor's practice, and being a kind, sympathetic man, suc ceeded from the Crst in making him self a popular physician. To-day he is one of the most successful physicians in the west, and has succeeded in laying by enough of this vorld's wealth to place his wife and two children, a boy and a girl, above any danger of want. ' Dr. Uascom docs little practice now, but he still takes a great interest in Paul's work and often spends the even lfl&k & mr.Jh it L ings with Paul's family, and he and i Bascom Markham, Paul's boy, are great friends. Paul and Louisa are always glad to have the old doctor come, and no matter how often he calls he is sure of a smile of welcome from both of them. Scraggs, true to his resolve, soon found a purchaser for Green's land, and with the proceeds, which was a neat little sum, John set up in business at Magic City. John was anxious to leave the farm, for though the seasons became more regular and crop failures almost unknown, he felt that he was not designed for farm work, and his past experience with it gaye him a thorough distaste for it. In bus new occupation he suc ceeded fairly well, and was in time quite well to do. He regained his old time life and energy, and Mary became as bright as cheerful as a girl. Gradually the remembrances of those old bitter days, when they contended against drouths, pests and mortgages, faded out, and they could look back on the past without a shudder. It was a long time before they knew of the great sacrifice Louise proposed making for their sakes in those old. dark days, and when finally the know ledge came to them they could only prize her a little more highly as a pre cious jewel, the brightest and best pos session of their Iwcs. Scraggs continued in hisold occupation of selling real estate and booming his town, and much credit was due hira for the wonderful growth of .Magic City in the years that followed. Theperson who goes to Magic City now may see a little old man, win- and nervous, sitting at Ins desk in his oilicc surrounded by a fine display of agricultural products, busily at work on some scheme for advancing- his town's interests. That man is Scraggs. He is always at work, and his work is always for his town. To Scraggs, and men like him, the west owes much of its prosperity. It is such as he who make booms and cause towns and cities to spring up like magic. They turn waste places into gardens, ami deserts into prosperous communities. They bring- before the world the advantages of their section of country, and cause its towns to grow and its resources to be sought after. All honor to Scraggs and his thousands of faithful coadjutors. It transpired after Ulatehford's death that he was indeed broken up. All his western securities were carried away by Pearson, and into these he had, upon Pearson's recommendations, turned nearly all his wealth. His property in the east was heavily mortgaged for money to send west, and when the news of his death and his western losses became known, his eastern cred itors closed in, and everything, includ ing his residence, was sold at trustee's sale. Mrs. Ulatchford was thus left penni less, and suddenly she awoke to the re alization of the fact, and came up face to face 'with the most abject poverty. She had to step down from the grand mansion where she had reigned a queen, and to-day in a back street in a poorer quarter of the city, there is an old, dingy, dirty two-room house, before which hangs a little sign bearing the words "Plain Sewing," and in this house, bending over the tiresome scams, one may see Mrs. Ulatchford and her mother and the two Pearson girls who were sent away to school at Ulatehford's expense. Sarah is a sadly disappointed woman, and full often she sighs for her fallen grandeur. She often recalls the days when she was mistress of Ulatehford's house and when she with all her rela tives lived in great plenty and comfort on Ulatehford's bounty. She is. indeed. receiving the just rewards of her actions, and istastingthebitterdraught she poured out to others. Rev. Wheed lcr has long since forgotten Mrs. Ulatchford. In fact he lost interest in her when she lost her position in so ciety and became unable to contribute to his salary. Mrs. Ulatchford has never forgotten nor forgiven Aunt Mitchell, and it is probable that she never will. IJut that matters little to Aunt Mitchell, and she goes her way quite as well satisfied as though Mrs. Ulatchford was her best friend. And now, having disposed of all the other characters, nothing remains but to account for Harry Pearson. He went to the mountains beyond Denver, and though Scraggs made every effort to apprehend him, he was not heard of for some months after his escapade. The report that came then was to the effect that he had drifted into the mining regions, and after gambling- away all his money undertook to raise a stake by robbing a mine. He was caught in the act and after a hearing before an ex temporary pioneer court, was taken out and promptly huug to the nearest tree. And now our story is done. Years have elapsed since the events recorded, and the great state of Kansas has out grown its early disadvantages. The fertile soil of its great plains produces wonderful crops, and its people are among the first to respond with their rich products to the calls of other suffer ing lands. It has become one of the first states of the union, and but for one thing its people would be the most prosperous on earth. It has escaped the curse of pestfi and drouths; but, alas, the farm mortgage still has its deadly fangs buried deep in its soil. When this curse is abolished and the homes of the west become free of the greedy Shylocks' grasp, then will the land blossom as the rose and the struggl ing people enjoy the full fruits of their labors. May that time come quickly. --v.irif wri'fca BmI B B ill 7'JLlteSSiLi.' PMB THE FARMING WORLD. CLOVER LEAF HOPPER. Am Insect Which llaa Caused Great Loss During Fast Seasons. The clover leaf hopper, illustrated from Uulletin 15 of the Iowa experi ment station, is one of the most serious enemies clover has to contend with. It is almost exclusively a clover feeder, remaining upon the plant as long as nutriment can be secured from it, but moving to blue Trass, cabbage, sugar beets, etc, when clover is not to be had. It also freds upon pig weeds and other garden weeds. The adult is about one eighth inch long and half as broad, and is marked with numerous dark blotches and stripes, especially on the wings. During winter it hibernates among doid weeds and leaves and may be seen hopping anxiously about on shiny days in midwinter. It is among the first in sects noticed in spring and can be driven from its retreats under trash, piles of hay, etc., any time in early ApriL Tho larva) appear in May and tho eggs may be seen under the epider- CLOVEK LEAF HOPPER. (AjaHiit dl- gutnolenta.) a. larva;: b, pupa; e, adult. mis along the midribs of the leaves at this time. The larva much resemble tho adults, except that they are small er and nearly white in color. Uy the 1st of July they are mature. The young in ail stages appear from this time on until late in autumn, and the new adults doubtless begin egg laying ia July or August, and tho larvaj of the first brood arc ma turing through July, August and possibly September. The earliest adults of the second brood might have time to lay and produce a third brood during the year, though that is hardly probable. When feeding, the insects insert their beaks into the stems of the leaves, and often remain motionless for hours at a time, sucking up the juices of the plant Sometimes they also feed upon the leaf blades. Their incessant drains often cause the clover to wilt, and unless the supply of mois ture is ample this must soon destroy the plants. From their numbers and feeding capacity they are likely to prove oue of the most destructive of clover insects Where it is necessary to undertake remedial measures, draw a hopper dozer ever the field just after the first clover cutting in July. This dozer consists of a long, shallow trough, with some sort of a guard ba hind it to prevent the insects from hop ping over it Into the trough a thin coating of coal tar or water with a thin layer of oil upon it is poured. Attach a rope to either end. and drag it up and down the field. The clover hopper, to gether with large numbers of other harmful insects, will hop into the tar and stick, or be smothered by the oil upon the water. PRACTICAL FARM HINTS. Set out your new currant plantation as soon as the condition of the ground will permit Any hour when no other work is pressing can be put in to advantage in forking over the manure heap. Put your sawdust around your cur rant and gooseberry bushes. They need good manure alone and will pay for it Economy is the proper term for good farming. Save the littles all around. Chips will make as good a fire while they last as big cordwood. Cultivating the ground for flowers and delicate early vegetables can be better accomplished by a four-tined spading fork than with a spade. The winter winds often pile up the leaves of the woods so that they ma' be easily gathered and used for bed ding down live stock when straw is scarce. Visit a nursery and see how spades may be kept bright The digging up of trees needs the very best kind of a tooL Few farmers have a good spade, and a less number keep it bright and sharp. When you set a broody hen give her a green sod for the bottom of her nest;, it tends to keep moisture for the eggs. Mark the date of the setting on each egg and see to it that no hens lay to her or break her eggs. St Louis Re public. Hotter Country Roads Needed. A paper recently prepared by the En gineers' society of western Pennsyl vania estimates the average distance which farm products must be hauled in that state at five miles, and assuming that half the agricultural products are consumed on the farm, shows that the clay roads entail an annual cost of Sl, 977,500 for transportation above that of turnpikes. This would keep SO.000 miles of turnpike road in repair, or would build between 690 and 1,000 miles of pike annually. This extra time, which is required to market the agricultural products of that state each year over clay roads, amounts in all to 831,000 days' work for a man and two horse team more than turnpikes would require, which means that the work of 2,400 mon for a whole year is lost A Trap for Skunks. Skunks preyed upon tho apiary of an American Uee Journal correspon dent until he devised a convenient trap oy which the invaders are caught and can be carried, carefully, a long dis tance without rousing ire or unpleasant odor: "Dig a hole 2 feet wide nnd 18 inches deep near the place they enter; lay an empty barrel, with one head removed, on its side, and projec ting over the hole so far that a slight weight will cause it to fall into it, where it will remain upright I put a few bits of meat or cheese in the bar rel near the bottom. The skunk will soon find it, and its weight will turn Uie barrel on its end in the hole." w If EARLY POTATOES. The Best Soil Upon Which toGroirTlica Good Varieties. With nearly everyone that grows po tatoes, more especially for home use. It is quite an item to have at least a few that will come in very early. New potatoes and pease make an appetizing dish, and if the potatoes are ready to use by the time the pease can be grown a little extra care will need to bo given. One of the most important things is good seed of some of the best of the early varieties. Almost every year there are more or less new va rieties brought out that are claimed to be very much earlier than anything ever introduced before; but in a major ity of cases after a trial a large pro portion of these prove of no especial value. One of the best of the early varieties is the early sunrise, it being a. few days earlier under the same con ditions of growth than the early rosa or the beauty of Hebron. A warm, sandy loam that is stirred deep and n well drained and reasonably rich is tho best soil in which to grow early pota toes. If manura is used it should bo thoroughly rotted and fined, aial then be well incorporated with tlm soil. Run out the furrows reason ably deep, using a good single shovel plow. It will save labor to take pains to run out good-sized furrows. With a wheelbarrow or hand-cart bring a quantity of fresh manure from the horse stable and put a good forkful into the bottom of tho furrow where the hill of potatoes is to be planted; put it into a compact little pile.as the object in using it is to secure a small amount of heat and also thor ough drainage. Over this put at least an inch of fine rich soil and then plant tho potato on this, and cover at least four inches deep. If the seed is handled carefully it will help a little if the seed is sprouted before planting; but if this is done, very careful handling must be given in order not to bruise or injuro the sprouts or more injury will be done than benefit derived. Good drainage on each side of the hill mtist be given in order to induce a good germination and a vigorous start to grow. Thorough cultivation from the start must be given, keeping the soil clear of weeds and in a loose, mellow condition. A few hills planted in this way, if given gcod care, will be ready for the tabid in not over ten weeks from the timl the seed is planted, but every advan tage must be taken to give as favor able conditions for growth as possible. St Louis Republic. PEACH-TREE PRUNING. Cattlng.IIack Ktentliil to Keeping Treot ln O'ood Shape. j The peach tree requires some prun ing or cutting back to keep in good shape. Tho branches during growth continually lengthen, and grow very little at the sides, so that in process ot time they appear like poles with tufts of leaves at the ends, as shown in Fig. I. Uut if they are annually shortened FIG. 1. in, tho tree will retain a handsome compact or rounded shape, as repre sented in Fig. 'i (The stem may Iks shorter, bringing the head nearer the ground.) If the annual pruning is omitted, they may be cut back the second or third year, cutting where a branch forks, and taking off tho 10. 2. longest branch. We have practiced both modes with decided advantage, performing the work quite early in spring, and have trees more than twen ty years old well cut back and send ing out vigorous shoots which bear as fine peaches as young trees. No mat ter how the work is done, provided that the trees are kept in a rather com pact and symmetrical form. Country Gentleman. Farming Without Pig. A somewhat eccentric farmer whom we once knew took the thoroughly Jewish view of the hog as an unclean animal and would neither cat its Uesli nor have one about his place. Most of what usuallj- went to the pig pen was given to the poultry. He claimed that his hens laid more eggs than they would if obliged to travel and feel over land contaminated by the hog. Our experience has always been that ; few pigs at least enough to eat th skim milk from tho dairy and be fat tened mainly on small apples and po tatoescould be kept with scarcely any cost Such pork is siveet and not unhealthfuL It is tha keeping of large droves of hogs together, feeding? them on ground that has been poisoned by their excrement, that gives rise to diseased pork and creates the dislika against pork as a food. No other ani mal furnishes so much or so good meat for the food it eats as the pig. Ameri can Cultivator. A durable whitewash for barns anV outhouses is made by adding to half a bushel of quicklime, slaked, two pounds sulphate of zinc, one pound of common salt. To make a cream color add three pounds yellow ochre; for gray, four pounds raw umber and two pounds of lampblack; for fawn, four pounds umber, one pound Indian red one pound lampblacfc i I i V ; I rfflkssWj - 1 -'- ': - - - - '' .-Li-i. ' ....- g -j--gys--jwcj.fwnisi . rf . sy m c