\ Wmmmmmr4 = i35sis * sawSTRs ! SB5SSSfSBPBPIHBBl 8 " " * . - • , • , , ' 'i.T- • - . / " • • ? ' * ' * ; . ' ' . " " " " * ' ' . ' ' ' " " . . _ . i i i H i > v yi - jl. I. 'j ' i it in 11 1 .1 ' i i. 1 > ' 'V ? ir / , • , f v i" j > • • , . > t. , - \m\m\nt \ < ' ft K \ ' - * H * i. > * - w-M • ? H / - fl Jy SeweThlasa Worth KbqwIhrj H The agricultural college professor H and farmer are joining nearer to- fl gether every yeur. The professor is fl comiHR gradually down from his high fl throne of exclusive science , and the H' farmer w rising slowly up out of the flvaleoffogyism and prejudice. Both H Jiavo learned many valuable lessons fl and have profited therebv. Mirror fl and Farmer. fl , In Calhprniaithe/oucalyptus tree is H planted for fuel , being cut down H three years after planting. The H amount realized for each acre of trees 9 % is over $200. The tree will thrive on B nearly all kinds of soils and it may fl perhaps , be well adapted for fuel fl purposes here , though they would fl require more time for growth. B " When mechanics and contractors 9 figure on * their profits they call their B time worth a fixed price per day , and B are allowed to take that into the B column of expenses ; but when a fnrm- B cr makes his showing , he is expected B toadmit that , he and his teams must B live ifthey did not work , therefore B what they get for labor is clear gain. B Sprains are among the most severe 9j accident to which we ore liable. B When a joint is sprained , swelling Hj comes on gradually. In dislocation , Hj the swelling and loss or motion of the flj joint happen immediately after the flj accident. A sprained limb should be 9 kept perfectly quiet. To prevent in- 9 ilamroation , use poultices of worm- 9 wood , hops or tansy. B Lime is a good disinfectant. It is fl especially valuable to place in cellars H where vegetables have been stored , H especially such as have been-put in B wet or show signs of decay. The B lost fall has been so wet that more fl than usual attention must be given B to cellars to prevent losses. By ab- H | sorbingsuperfluous moisture the line Hj prevents the rising of foul odors that B dampness with warmth is sure to B generate. MoBt vegetables in cellars H | are better if covered with earth and B the lime sprinkled over the top of B the heap. B A pig's foot is small in proportion H ! to its weight. If allowed to trample Hj overweb ground in its pen , it must Hj inevitably mire it up worse than any Bj other animals. Some think the pig Bj loves this condition of thing. He k does not , but he cannot help it. By Bj all means , give piggy a board floor Hi over at least a part of his pen , and Bj under cover. This he will keep E scrupulously clean .and neat , going B outside in , the , coldest weather to B void liquid or solid excreta. Yery fl young pigs quickly learn this habit B of neatness. fl I believe the liquid portion of ma- fl nure , which commonly soaks into the B ground and is lost , is worth as much H as all the rest pub together. "No fl man'sexperiencecan teach him all B that is worth knowing ; .therefore 9 read , and get the experience. " "The 9 best profit is in the best products. An 9 afternoon visit to market will find 9 the best meat , butter , vegetables and 9 fruits all sold. " Vermont Watch- i jnan. I • Horses that have itchy skin may 9 "be-put in fine condition in a very ; B simple and easj' treatment , by giving I B them once a week a pint of linseed oil B at their night feeding. The condi- B tion of such a horse will rapidly im- B prove. If the case should be a bad B one a good condition powder iriven B ' in the feed night and morning will'be B greatly benencial. - * 0ne w-Iio has B practiceji this for a long while finds B his horses are kept in fine condition. fl When clover does not thrive where it has before borne good crops it in- I dicates that the land is "cloversick. " I That is , it is in a fertile condition , I rich in nitrogen , but lacking in some I " % elements demanded the clover for I some other crop. Corn is an excellent I . crop for the purpose , and potatoes I may follow corn. By applying lime I and potash the land can be pub in I clover again. Kotation of .crops is I . an advantage on all farms. J Says the Mark Lane Express : c'It mi isbeingmadea complaint by Mani- B fcoba and wheat wheat-growers mer- B chants that their exceptionally fine B wheat are mixed with common sorts B before shipment to this country. , B That is essentially their business and B not ours , but wheat that is intended B simply for consumption or export : B cannot be too clean and good ; the B - enhanced price and lessened freight B pay well for the extra labor. " B Those who grow fodder corn for ; II ensilage or winter food should bear BE * If in mind that experiments at the Mas- II sachusetts Agricultural Experiment - Station showed that corn cut at the stage when the kernel was just be- ] ginning to glaze furnished nearly "twice the nutritive value of that cut when the tassels first appeared. It is better to plant the small , early varieties of corn rather than the large Southern varieties , as the for- , . mer reach . their full nutritive value a " month earlier than the latter I It would do the black Spanish fowls in this country much good if - ; soine enterprising breeder would im- . port-a few trios eyery > fyear. . They. % have been bred so close in order to % secure the white face that they lost V. their vigor , and stamina , and they p\ need fresh "blood now more than any other class. The black Spanish are very handsome and should be im proved. They have done good ser- Tice in the past , and may do as well in the/future with a little care and good management. Jersey cows , though not at any . time giving large yields of milk , are I generally so persistent that during a year they are not very long dry. It is this tendency , which combinedwiththe richness of their milk makes them favorite's with those who only keep one cow and * Uok to that for the family suoply. I * * SBpWwBBSWWBBBSBBHH i . . . ' ' ' ' " ' " " " ' ' ' • S " ri"'i in i in r i.iinimn. r , t ; ' Every effort should bo used to , - keep ayoung heifor up to her milking yield us long as possible. The habit of going dry early , if once formed , is impossible to break. 4 "I havo used castor beans and poi soned carrots to exterminate gophers without success , " writes a corre spondent to Dallas , , Oregon. A rag filled with sulphur and set well afire and then shoved into a hole , will gen erally smother gophers and prairie dogs , or a small potato may be cut in two and a dose of Paris green in serted , and theii'strewn in the bur rows. Bisulphide of carbon , poured on a rag and quickly poked down the burrows , which are to be at once stopped up , is usually effective. It vaporizes quickly and diffuses itself through the burrows , being fatal to life. 9 Bcddln ? For Stock It is perhaps impossible that an imals confined in stables , sheds or or other close quarters should not be more or less affected by or contam inated with excrement and foul air , a condition of things that greatly affects their well being a9 well asdim- minishes the value of their products. This is a matter that every farmer should duly consider and strive to prevent or remedy for the sake of in terest and tidiness , if not for that of humanity. He that keeps his stock well above a floor of filth by a liber al use of straw or other bedding , will kindly add to their comfort and greatly enhance his profits arising from them. If the reasonableness of a thing can teach one anything , than one should learn that animals would thrive most when comfortable. We have seen pigs making slow growth so long as they were kept in filthy , miry pens , take a new start in life , as it were , so soon as their dirty quart ers were exchanged for comfortable ones , and this with no improvement in their relations. Indeed , good bed ding is the prime help to good "feed ing.Good Good wheat or rye straw , perhaps , makes the best bedding , as the large hollow stalks will absorb large amounts of liquid ; but straw is not the only substance that will make comfortable bedding for cattle or stock. Forest leaves are by no means a bad substitute. They are not so good an absorbent , but they make a better manure , and as they are for the most part plentiful and cheap , every farmer would do well to secure in the Fall large quantities of them for this purpose. , Another substitute for straw is sawdust. This is a good absorbent and makes a dry soft bed. In itself its does not amount to much as a a fertilizer , but when saturated with urine it feiments quickly and serves to make land more porous and open , as does sand , to the influence of light and air. In Winter , however , it does not make so warm a bed as straw , but this defect may be obviated by using it as an underbed , with an np- > er one of straw or leaves so used f ast much longer , and the air of the stable is kept purer by the greater absorbent qualities of the sawdust beneath. Straw and sawdust may nob be found in all localities , "but some thing like alluvial soil or sod can be ; and as these are very good substi tutes , they should be used when other substances are not available. This alluvial , , housed in a dry time , is a good obsorbent and. adds great ly to the virtues of the manure , be ing itself rich with saline material. Another advantage in using soil for bedding is that it makes compost daily , and the manurekeeps in better- coridllion does not "firefang. " Dry muck is sometimes used for bedding , but it is rather dirty. It is a good obsorbent of liquids and gases , but when wet it soils the cat tle and gives them anything but a clean , tidy appearance. Neither is it so good a fertilizer as good alluvial soil. soil.But But , after all that can be said of other substances for bedding , most farmers will continue to rely on straw , and as this is usually cheap and abundant , it should be used lib erally. And finally , aside lrom the comfort it furnishes the animal and the addition it makes to the store of manure , the increased purity of the air of the stables is alone a sufficient reason for keeping stock well sup plied with bedding. James I. Baird in the Kural Home. M I Telegraphing on the Pacific Railroad. On the San Joaquin trail the dar ing engineers who had climbed crag and precipice to stretch their wires were outwitted by the long-horned Spanish cattle that graze in the val ley. No timber graced the country and , flies were troublesome. The cat tle were tormented by these winged pests , and to get rid of them crowded to the telegraph line. They would rub against the poles and paw the earth away from the base. Heavy poles would be worn out in a few months , causing frequent interrup tion. The line could not be fenced in , and it did not pay to hire vaqueros to drive away the stock. One of those brilliant ideas that change the fate of a nation suggested a cure for the evil. Spikes were driven in the poles , and the ends sharpened so as to tick le the thick hide of the steers and keep them away § "omtheir daily * pleasure. " - The theory wrs good , but it failed in .practice. The cattle actually ap preciated the change , and brought all their .horned companions from twen ty miles to enfoy the prickly sensa tion produced bytheinvention. After this twice as manypoles were needed , and the spike feature was abandoned. Philadelphia Doctor ( despondent ) Just my luck. I haye only recent ly succeeded in becoming the regular family physician of the Westends , and they have taken steps to render further employment of a ; doctor un necessary , or nearly so. Wife Why , my dear , what have they done ? "They have bought-afflter. : Phila delphia Becord. ' : ' ' ' ' • * - . • • \ - - : - > . • • > . * * * ' -1--- - " * " ' - - - * " - - - --V - . - - ' - • "i -m i.m'ii-l ij. .ii . . . . . • rvtfrfflf .vtr fct- ? * - t f w - - - * - ' - ' - * . . , . r- . . " * - _ x " - S * S : > * % if • " • ' " * * aW3 - - * - - - ' - • > - - * • - , \ I c - J - * ' • * MRS. 'TRIPFS CHINA. When good old Mr. and Mrs. Tripp died within a week of each other , there was , I regret to say , an immediato disagreement among their heirs over the small property left by the old people. Such disagreements ar so shame fully common now , that this one might not have excited any particular interest had it not been for the some what peculiar nature of the article over which'the cupidity of the vari ous heirs had asserted itself. Few , indeed , were the possessions Mr. and Mrs. Tripp left behind them. They did nob own even the humble little brown house in which they had lived for the pastten years , and when their funeral expenses had been paid , there was not a dollar left of the sum found in an old pewter teapot on the top shelf of the red cupboard in the kitchen. Frugal as they had been , it was evident that this sum represen ted the sum total of their savings of many years. But Mr. and Mrs. Tripp had not always been so poor as they were at the last , and there was one of Mrs. Tripp's possession which she had al ways exhibited with pride as a relic of her better days , and as undemable proof of tho fact that there had been a time when she "had had a plenty. " Over this her relatives now disputed What was it ? Only a white china tea-set , each piece of which had a broad gold band around the rim. "It's pure chany , " Mrs. Tripp would often say , with a thrill of pride , as she held a saucer or a plate before the eyes of her visitors. "See how thin it is ; you kin look right through it. Solomon give it to me on our tenth wedding day. He was in the grocery buisness then , an' doin' well , an' he'd gone to New York to buy goods ; an' when he come home , he brung this all packed so carefully in straw , that the' wa'n't a piece broke ; but one of the sass dishes was crack ed a little , an' I never used it none , so itaint never broke , either. I think the world an' all of my chany. " The dearly prized "chany" had for years graced an old-faBhioned' 'what- not" in a corner of Mr. Tripp's best room. There was nothing else on the whatnot but two big "chany" dogs , one a reddish brown , and the other a dark blue , which looked as though they felt themselves respon- sible for the safety of the dishes , and intended being faithful to their trust. Mr. and Mrs. Tripp had ho children , but they had somerelatives cousins 1 and a second-cousins and more re mote connectious. These relatives ] were numerous , however. Just how - numerous they were was made mani- 1 fest when it came to dividing the few personal belongings of the . old people. 1 The "heirs' , met at the house on 1 their way home from the funeral. ] Hardly were they assembled , when i Nancy Johnson , own couain to Mrs. 1 Tripp , said : < "Of course you all know that my ] father and Betty Tripp's mother was * own brother and sister , and that- made me and Betty own cousins. So i it seems only fair that. I should at- ( least have my choice of her things , i 'speshly when I might claim 'em all ; ' but I aint one to act selfish , and I'm t willin' you should all have your sheer i • ' of what's left after I've packed up , ( Betty's chany tea-set and" ( "I knowed that was what you was goin' to say , " interrupted Mrs.Cephas \ King , "and I can tell you that Soloi mon Tripp was my own cousin , and f the tea things was as much his as t they was Betty's , and I've as much 1 right to 'em as you have ! " r . A thin , sharp voice came from a 1 corner of the room. "Betty Tripp told me agin and t agin , " it said , "that she wanted me to have them dishes , when she was i done with env She said" ' "She told me the same thing ! " in terposed Mrs. Cyrus Masterson , who j who was only a third-cousin. " f "I took more care of her endurin' j her last sickness chat anybody else ! " f interrupted second-cousin Beulah Hovey , "and one day we was talkin' s 'bout the chany , an' Betty says , says . she , 'Beulah , ' says she , ' 'bout that \ chany tea-set , ' says she , Td as leave you had it as any one , an' a little ] leaver. ' " "Them's the very words she said g to my wife ! " put in Mr. Ezra SimI mons , a.little old man with a femi nine face and voice , "an' Betty was a i : own cousin of mine. " t "And of mine ! " said a tall woman t in rusty black near the whatnot on . c which the coveted china Btood. s So the strife continued , until there t was no posibility of an amicable ada justment of the claims of various s claimants. They finally left the house and the chinain the possession 1 of Miss Selina Sharpo , a lady of about fifty years , who , although an own cousin of Mr. Tripp , had put for ward no claim to the china , declar ing that she had no wish to possess it. Ii "But there's one thing certain , " t said Miss Sharpe , as she closed the s door behind the last of the "heirs , " c "there shan't one of 'em step their' 1 foot into this house tigain to touch the chany or anything else , until it's c settled by law who has a right to I em. I've rented the house myself of w its owner , and I won't have my v doors darkened by any of them. " - Miss Sharpe adhered to thisresoluq tion , politely but firmly refusing adh mittance to several of the claimants c who called during the following weelc , d "to talk it over" with her , and , pos sibly , to carry the china heme in trie ? umph. • h Beside the china , there was nothing among Mr. and Mrs. Tripp's few ii poor Delongings that the relatives h coveted , all of the furniture of any g value having been sold or given in ll payment of a few bills that came in s after the funeral. Accordingly , h Mise Sharpe was soon left in undisc i.t * - j ii * f . . . , . . . . . . . - - ( i l . I . - . ] - i. ii ii. ril I II * - * < * , • - > ? - , v a . . - • ft - > turbed possession of what was left , and the china , , guarded Ty the faith- nil dogs , still rested on the old walnut whatnot threo weeks after the couple , to whom it had given pleasure , had been laid away in the little cemetery behind the village church. Mrs.Cephas King and Nancy Johnson had been next-door neigh- hoi's and very warm friends up to the time the dispute over the china arose ; but now , alas ! they scornfully passed by without a word or smile of of recognition when they met , and the King children were forbidden to have anything at all to do with the Johnson children. Mr. Cyrus Masterson lived directly across the street from Beulah Hovey , and so frequent had been tho friend ly , 'pleasant little calls the ladies had made upon each other that a smoothly worn path led from one house to the other. Now all was changed. The path was wholly dis used , and Mrs. Masterson gathered up her skirts when she metMrs. Hov ey on the street , lest they should suffer contamination by coming into contact with those her beloved neigh bor. bor.Mrs. Mrs. Ezra Simmons returned a certain basque pattern she had bor rowed of Sehna Sharpe with a note stating that in "consequence of the course you have seen fit to pursoo in relations to my husband's own dear dead cuzzen's chiny tea-things , which now rightfully belongs to Me , I re turn the inclosed bask pattern and would thank you for my cup cake reseet and my polynay pattern , not desiring that anytliing of yours should remain in my possession and visa veray , and that we do not speak from this date. So it was that there was discord and enmity whero there had once been peace and harmony. Not one of the contending claimants con descended to speak to any of her rivals to the inheritance. A month had passed , and the bad feeling was at its height , when Mr. and Mrs. Ezra Simmons one evening concluded to spend an hour with their friends , Mr. and Mrs. Drewe. The deacon and his wife were not at home when Mr. and Mrs. Simmons arrived , but Sally , the maid-servant , said that she was expecting them every mo ment , and invited the callers to wait until their return. They had waited in the parlor a few moments when the bell rang and Sally was heard to tell other callers that her master and mistress would be in very soon and to invited them also to come in and wait. Directly ; afterward Mr. and Mrs. Cyrus Mas- terson were ushered in. Seeing the Simmonses , the new-comers haughtily withdrew to a corner of the parlor and j sat down in silence. . A third ring of the bell and Mrs. Beulah Hovey appeared at the pari or door. She gave the previous occup ants , of the parlor a stony stare and j then went to sit stiffly erect in the 1 centre of a sofa , where she seemed to 1 be engaged in studing intently the pattern of the paper on the wall. Perfect silence ensued for a moj ment when the bell again rang and Nancy Johnson's voice was heard at the door. When Mr. , and Mrs. Drewe followed all these callers into the par- lor , strange as it may seem , they had with them Mrs. Cephas King , who was too courageous a woman to be , in the least daunted by what she be held. She calmly seated herself in a comfortable and com5 5 rocking-chair com- posedly returned Mrs. Nancy John- y son's stare. ( While Mr. and Mrs. Drewe were ; vainly endeavoring to start ageneral t conversation , the village fire-bell rang i for the first time in many months , j The fire-company consisted of those ( who could be first in getting to a ( small room in the rear of the posti i office , where there were six fireextinj quisners and a hand reel and hose. j The entire p opul ation of the vifl age c was in the street in less than five i minutes after the first sounding , of i the bell , and it was soon known that \ the fire was in the little brown house i lately occupied by Mr. and Mrs. i Tripp , bub now in the possession of { Miss Selina Sharpe. \ The first comers found the present i tenant of the cottage flying wildly = around , throwing her few belongings i into the street and screaming "Fire ! " \ at the top of her voice. \ When the occupants of Mr , Drewe's * parlor reached the cottage they { found the roof in flames and smoke \ pouring from the windows while the ' v Bre.company was still in the distance. 3 "Has my chany been gob out yet ? " i 3hrieked Nancy Johnson. | "Your chany ! " said Cyrilla Mills , ; who was only a fourth-cousin. j " ' ' ' " said Beulah "I'd say 'my chany , a Hovey. fc "It won't be anybody's if it aint t ot out o' there right off ! " shrieked r Ezra Simmons. d : At that instant the men appeared fc in the smoking doorway trying to 3 balance the whatnot and its contents between them. The blue dog toppled aver and fell to pieces on the stone 3tep as they reached the door. The brown one threatened to d o the same , i1 and the cups and other dishes were 3 swaying unsteadily from side to side. 3 "Be careful of mjdishes ! " cried l ; Mrs. Mills. "Your on ! " - [ : "Oh ! " fa "O-o-o-o-h ! " h "It that aint too bad ! " > One of the men had stepped off the little porch sooner than the other , thus tilting the whatnot forward and sending every piece of the cherished hina down with a crash on the A brick walk before the door. r The several heirs looked at each a jther in silence for a moment. Then p Beulah Hovey suddenly cried out , 0 yith an hysterical littlelaugh : "Well , t ivhat geese we be ! " p "So we air , Beuly , so we air , " aca juiesced Ezra Simmons. "I'd never c lave made any fuss about the old 0 hany only for Emmeline making me fi io it ! " A This frank confession of the ascend- ncy ofMrs.Simmonscreatedalaugh , n rf which every one joined. c There were several waggisli fellows b n the crowd who turned the occasion a nto one of such merriment that even t ; rrim Mrs. Johnson was found chuckt : Ing half-alouvfi , while Thyraa Masterj' ' ion and Mrs. Simmons , being at c : leart and suet ; good-natured keenly sue- jeptible to even poor wit , laughed fc ,1 ' 1 7 - . . , . yLg 'Wfeags.iaw ' ' 1 m wwiiwi j ,1. r ff pJ . . . , . , . . - . , , . - . „ . . - . „ . - J. - ! < . .rnJ. . --.T. . I..I -.rn- | .r L A 'Y * - • * * * * * r wmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmammm mmmmmmmmmmmatmmmrmmmtm louder than any-one else , and walked home together side by side in the most amicable mannor. That was the end of all ill-fcolingovor the chine lis well as the end of the china itself. Youth's Companion. Things Worth Knownlng' . ' 1. ' That fish may bo scaled much easier by dipping into boiling water about a minute. 2. That fish may as ivell bo scaled if desired before packing down in salt , though in that case , do not scald them. 8. Salt fish are quickest and best fieshened by soaking in sour milk. 4. That milk which is turned or changed may be sweetened and ren dered fit for use again by stirring in a little soda. 5. That salt will curdle new milk , hence in preparing * milk porridge , gravies , &c , the salt should not be added until the dish is prepared. 6. That fresh ment after beginning to sour , will sweeten if placed out ol doors in the coolofnight. 7. That clear boiling water will remove tea stains and fruit stains. Pour the water through tho stains and thus prevent it spreading over tho fabric. 8. That ripe tomatoes will re move ink and other stains from white cloth ; also from the hands. 9. That a tablespoonful of tur pentine boiled with your clothes will aid in the whitening process. 10. That boiled starch is much improved by the addition of a little sperm or a little salt , or a little gum arabic dissolved. 11. That beeswax and salt will make your rusty flat irons as clean and smooth as glass. Tie a lump of wax in a rag and keep it for that purpose. When the irons are hot , rub them first with the wax ragthen scour with a paper or cloth sprinkled with salt. 12. That blue ointment and kero sene mixed in equal proportions and applied to the bedsteads is an un failing bedbug remedy , and that a coat of whitewash is ditto for the walls of a log house. 13. That kerosene will softec boots or shoes that havo been hard ened by water and render them as pliable as new. 14. That kerosene will make tic- tea kettles as bright as new. Satu rate a woolen rag and rub with it. It will also remove stains from the clean , varnished furniture. 15. That cool rainwater and soda will remove grease from washable fabric. | . How a Paper Hanger Removes old Pa per. Early in the morning the papei hanger j and three assistants came in , each ' with a whitewash brush and a bucket 1 of boiling water. "This is the first j move , " he said , as they sat down their I buckets and began going ovei walls with the brush and hot water , as though they were whitewashing. In a very short time the four dirtv walls were very wet ; then the ceiling went through the same course , and when it was thoroughly wet they be gan peeling off the paper where they first begun to wet it. It came like strips of bark from an sasy-peeling log. When a spotse em- ed nob to come off easily it was again wet , and left while they worked at another part. They soon had it all off. In making the paste he put a quarter of a pound of cornstarch into a porcelain kettle , mixed it with a small portion of cold water , then added a lump of alum as large as a cherry , then enough boiling water to make a thin paste , boiled it a few moments and removed it. I asked what the alum was for. "To keep mice or moths from destroying the paper around the edgeshe said. The paste was put on with a white wash brush. The first width ( after the paste was put on and the lower and folded back so that it was light ly stuck to the edges , with both wrong sides together , so that its weight in lifting it would not tear it ) was lifted up and the top edge held in place , while a dry whitewash brush was passed down the centre ofit , and when the folded under part was reach ed it was unfolded and fastened down in this same way. Overhead the on ly change was that an attendant held ane end of t1 e paper while the hanger put it on with the brush. The wall and ceiling were marked with a bape measure and chalk , the depth to be left for bordering , and an accu rate measure of length of paper to be ut was made , making it impossible io have it either too long or too short. Ohio Farmer. Don't Like Electric Execution. The Western Electrician defines th6 Dosition of most newpapera when it says : The daily press , as a whole , ias taken a decided stand against hat clause of the law providing for he substitution of electricity for the lalter in New York State , which for- jids the publication of descriptions of executions. District Attorney Fellows of New STork city holds that the provision s unconstitutional. He says : i.mong those whom the sheriff has a rightunder # the law-tp invite ta wit less the execution , there is no reason vhy newspaper reporters may not be nvitcd. In fact , they probably will 3e present. If they were not invited ' vhat is there to prevent mj-selfor my one present to recite the facts in 'onversation after the execution is jver ? To forbid that Ishould rscite the acts would be to 'forbid free speech. Ind furthermore , what does a report- ' . jrdobut recite the facts to half a nillion readers , instead of to a group f friends. Of course , if an indictment I mould be found against an editor 01 ' reporter for printing and reporting he execution , I should be compelled o prosecute , but in my opinion the udge would hold the law to he un- onstitutional , or at any rate the i rlal would not result in a convic tion. " i _ 'gTi- | . ft < j . r " f > r f nti i . . i.ii 'i . " . ii i i * a iMHMMt * . Miss Ewald's Protege. "He is handsome , he spoaks cor rectly , and thero is a kind of superb independence about him that 1 ad mire. What a pity ho is only a farm- erMiss ! Ewald mused looking ovortlio fence at tho reapers in tho wheat field , and singling out Brian Jeffrey's straight , well-knit figure , in its cool , blue cotton overalls and blouse. How easily and lightly he swung tho scythingrcradlo around , tho yel low grain falling before the glittering blade. Miss Ewald has been at Glasslandn a week. She was twenty six and thoroughly disgusted with tho world , or so she imagined when she elected to spend tho Summer in the country , instead of going with her friends on tho usual round of gayety at tho watering places. "I am tired of folly and fashion , of society of every thing , " she had said , and packing her trunks went away to the loneli ness , tho cool , deep shades , and the simple , primitive life of Grasslands- bewildering Farmer Jason and his comely wife with her beauty and grace and city toilets , and making aquaintance with Brian Jeffrey , the farmer's nephew. "He is probably as old as I am , but with as little worldly knowledge as I had at sixteen , " shifting her white linen parasol a little , her eyes still fixed on the blue-clad figure in the field. A brilliant idea had shaped itself in her mind during the week. She would help the young man to a higher plane of life , point the way into the intellectual world. "Why not ? " she had reasoned. "Of course , my friends , " with a slight curl of the lip , "would deride the plan , but I see no harm in it. He is here shut off from the world , and with no examples to stimulate ambi- tion or make him desire culture. " The morning that she stood by the fence looking into the wheat field , shedecided to speak to himaboutit , offer , with tact and delicacy , to loan him books and papers , and her aid in turning his thoughts into higher , channels. That evening as she stood on the veranda gathering a bunch of creamy roses for the bosom of her light blue gown , he came and leaned against the column near her. 1 The fading daylight seemed to gather about her golden head and ] lovely purely colored face , and the young farmer's dark-gray eyes were < fixed steadily on her. It was a good time and place to unfold her purpose . His face flushed , and he looked down at his shapely , sunburnt hands , j while she gently explained that all f her books and magazines were at his service , and that she would be pleased to have him read with hersometimes. \ He seemed to catch instantly at 2 her full meaning , and the light in. his , gray eyes almost startled her. . "Would you indeed be so kind to an ignorant poor wretch ? " he mur- mured. Her fair face flushed. f "It is no great act of kindness , Mr. x Jeffrey. I understand the limitations of your surroundings , and it you will ( " accept j "I do , most gladly , gratefully ! " he . "In . * quickly interrupted. : a.country neighborhood , where all , or nearly i all , are on the same level , where an almanac and the Bible constitute a v library , there is not much hope for r literary advancement. " j It was a strange Summer to Bosa- mond Ewald , one utterly out of the line of conventional experiences. Never had teacher so apt a pupil , and the lines of study took a much i wider range than she had ever imag ined. ined.Favorite authors were invested n with new interest , and she found all & her own mental faculties stimulated p and quickened. She forgot that she s had ever been weary of life. p It was delightful to have such an intelligent , sympathetic protege. u "I never knew before that a simple a act of kindness could give one so much d pleasure. I feel like a different crea0 eture from the languid , ennuied wom an who came up here. " * , One evening she vras suprised and " delighted at the sound of a tenor g voice sining "My Queen , " with an h eloquence of expression unexpected. She stepped to the parlor door , and saw Brian Jeffrey sitting before n the small , almost tuneless old piano , playing and singing. tl He stopped instantly at the sight i of her. "I did not know you could sing , S ( Mr. Jeffrey , " advancing into the w dimly lighted room. t < "Only a little , Miss Edwald. "he ai said j , hastily , looking as guilty as if pi he had been detected in a crime. ta "You sing extremely well , and with lc wonderful expression. " t < Her frank , warm praise o verm assi teredthe self-control he had been c < putting upon himself for days. w He looked at her , a passionate fire w leaping to his gray eyes. ai "I ought to sing that song well , a ] with you always in my thoughts , " a < he said , in a low quick tone. w Her startled eyes met his ; she turnai ed away , but he caught her hand. t < "I know what presmption , what oi madness it is , but I love you , Miss Ewald Rosamond , my queen ! " si She flushed and paled. d < "It may seem a poor return for all hi your goodness to give you my heart , hi but it is an honest heart , and " m All the haughty Ewald blood T " flamed up. She snatched her hand te from his grasp. fe ! "Sir , you surely forget your stam tionl You presume unpardonably be upon my favor. Let me pass. " hi He grew white as death , bowed and oi f stepped aside , and she went proudly ci away to her own room , only to throw pi herself on the bed when she arrived wl , . , i AZ - - IT W . BBftr T X - . - - \ kmmmmmmmmlmi \ WWMWWwmihi ' i i . . . . . . . . _ e . . . . . . ' . ' i i maw JwWMUMLj there ; sobbing lik # tJ itt&kmt "W schoogirl. m Never in her life had swk contend- | | j ing emotions possessed hoc. Hot mil waves of crimson swep * over her jM throat and face as she recalled hia mi words , tho passion bfhfe : eye . VM . I But she has taught him a lesson. * ml Ho treated her with perfect courtesy , m I but thoro were no more delightful : fj 1 talks and readings. He held gravely. JJ aloof , meetingher only attheir meals , , | j and she found the time hanging p Mm heavily on her hands. g I A feverish unrest took poeeoseion- % 1 of her , and as the time for her return % I to tho city drew nearer eho'grew J | graver. i 1 One day ono of tho children ran „ . breathlessly in crying : j m "Tho cotton gin's bn'sted , and I J M ' ' killodl" 'spect Cousin Brian's Bosnmond started to her foot and ran bareheaded out into tho yard , through the gate and down the lane toward the gin. Killed ! Brian Jeffl fre3' , in all his strength and youth , fl killed ! The hot sun beat upon her fniv. head j dazzled hor eyes ; she grew faint. fl "Miss Ewald ! " ,9 , Sho stopped , looked up with a low fl cry , then held out hur hands. fl He stood before her , untouched un- harmed. fl "Oh , Brian , Brian , they told mo 'fl you bad been killed ! Forgive my t 9 wicked pride , my cruel words , for F (9 ( love you ! " , B The truth was out at last , the ] 9 truth she had been learning ever | H since their estrangement. | H He caught her hands and kissed tjjH them passionately. | S "Forgive you ? What could I not jjH forgive you for those words , my \ JjH dearest ? As no lives were lost , I < fl thank heaven for tho accident that ( fl has caused this betrayal of your iH heart ! " ' Miss Ewaldwas at a reception , rfl gowned in creamy silk , and with dinifl monds at her throat. It was tho fl first ] reception of the season , and her fl friends J gathered around her , declarfl ing j that the Summer had mysteriousfl ly changed her , butethe vivacious , ( fl laughing hostess bore her off to a • fl pretty music-room. ( S "I want to introduce you to a jfl friend i of my husband's , a lino musifl cian ' , wealthy , cultivated , who has jfl travelled and studied abroad as well jfl as in America. If you were nob so H flinty j hearted , Bosamond , I should fl hope 1 to make a match between you. " L\ Miss Ewald laughed softly as she L\ thought , of Brian Jeffrey , and turned jfl the simple pearl ring he had placed ( Jfl upon her finger. \m\ What would her fashionable friends J H say ifthey knew that she had pro misfl | ed ' to marry farmer , and loved him ? ] | The music-room was deserted save * for a solitary figure standing before 9 fmm the \ grand piano. Not until the gen ( M tleman turned , and her hostess said- H "Mr. Jeffrey ! " did she realize that it f L\ was Brian himself who stood before .Jmm her in faultless evening dress , his face j fl and hands still showing the sunburn i W of his labor at Grasslands. | H "You deceived me ! " sho cried , palo | with conflicting emotions , when they Imm were left alone. H "My dearest , you decided yourself , ' < H by taking it for granted that I was ' M an uncultivated tiller of the soil , and ( l | then it was too tempting to learn all l\mm\ \ your sweet nature as my benefacInfl tress. I made the family promise ' ' | nottoundeceiveyou. Are you angry , j l darling ? I called at your home tliis ji l sveningto tell you of your mistake , f M to ask your pardon for the decep- [ L\ tion ; and learning you were here , { ] \W \ came on determined to seeyou. The • ' L\ owner of Grasslands is indeed my ' fl ancle , and I went out there to work ' fl bins past season because I needed . - M outdoor exercise , and because I like . x L\ \ farming. Bosamond , it was the hap- * - % * \ fl piest Summer of my life. " ) fl "And of mine , " she murmured at j fl last , her lips meeting hrs. * I JH Then he sang "My Queen , " in a > 'j | aray that drew half the guests to the * 'tj ' l oom ; and with a happy smile , Miss * ' | Swald thought herprotege would do , ; fl ler great honor. Saturday Night. * * ' flfl The Hired Man of Old. tjfl Manchester , N. H. , Mirror. { | 9 This is the day when the "hired * ! | nan" who is engaged to work on a J l arm for the season reports for duty , 1 irovided , of course , that there is j 9 omewhere , a farm on which such a 1 1 elic of a by-gone age as the hired " i l nan is to be found this year. What iWmm m institution he used to be in. the * Lm lays when we were young ! A thor- 1 * 1 Highbred Yankee ; not a drop of im | lorted blood in his veins ; strong and ' > [ 1 ithe , and active and tireless , intelli- H jent , fairly well educated , skilled in > i | lis business , and , as a rule , Indus- if l rious beyond the belief of this ten- fi l tour generation. i H From the time he drove his ax in to " t H he woodpile in the door yard on the ' H st of April until the close of the sea- f H on , after harvesting , he expected to ! H rork , and he did work , not from sun , t H o sun , but from dawn to darkness , ' 1 nd then did the milking and fed the tr"j H igs afterward. His day was four- " * tr ij H een , fifteen , even sixteen hours Immm ang , and it never occurred r fl o him that it should be ' p fl horter. He was no specialist. He . , ' H ould do anything. He was smart > - | H rith a scythe , handy with ahoe , cute * , ' H ith a cradle and experienced with ' H n ax. He knew how much ' grain ' ' { H nd grass seed were required to the ' H ere , when grass was fit to cut , and H dien it was hayed enough to "goTn. " • H nd he did not need to be told when " f l o drop turnip seed in the cornfield , l H r how to put corn in the shock. ' H He could build wall , jmake cider , ' H tiingle the barn , make a bayrack , or ' ' H octora sickhog. It was safe to leave „ J > ij H im to work alone. And he got for r J' ' H is services § 10 , § 12 , possibly § 15 a V H lonth , and saved three-fourths ofit. _ i' ' H "hen , when he had worked eight or ' ' H m seasons and had accumulated a i H W hundred dollars , he probably * * tr H larried the "hired girl , " who had ' 'f H een at work fsr § 1 a week and saved 1 H alf of that , bought a farm , got out 1 t H debt little by little , educated his < H tiildren and sent them to the city to i - ' | reach law , or work in store or shop , J' | H hile he stayed on the old homestead. fm H % { fl mWkS mWkS mWkS mWkwkWi i- C J - - * x • tmm