Democratic Press, Volume 1, Number 19, Decatur, Adams County, 21 February 1895 — Page 3

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CHAPTER X V I.—Cont in tied. Well did she recollect the sudden blaze of childish fury which had risen within her breast when Cecil, gaily taunting, had whispered about knights who loved an i rode away, ere his own resentment had l>een awakened by the prediction having been vertied. Cecil had been right, and she had been wrong once. Who was to say which would lie the truer prophet now? Os one thing, however. Geraldine was clear: she very earnestly desired that Ce il Raymond should not be aware of how far Belleuden had already gone, how often the two bad met, and to what extent they had advanced in intimacy. She never mentioned to her cousin Sir Frederick's name. She looked as unconscious as she could if he were casually referred toby others. And if.she knew he were to be anv place at any hour on the watch for her and ready to join her. she would sooner have'given up the meeting altogether than have had on her other side the playmate of her youth. With a heavy heart she now prepared for a two days' visit at Aunt biaria s. she knew iiow it would be when she got there. She could already hear her two aunts’ whisperings, anil nark, the confidences interchanged and the plan of the campaign drawn up. For Mrs. St. George having no children of her own. and being well affected towards her nieces and nephews in general, and Cecil Raymond in particular, would le only toe much overjoyed at being called in to assist him at this all-important juncture. Cecil would be paired oil with his cousin at the dinner-table, in the boat, at the luncheon party, throughout the entire proceedings. She could prophetically behold him carrying her shawl and fetching her parasol, waiting for her if she were behindhand, and waiting tor no one else if she were in front. She knew for what purpose he had bo ght a white cotton cover for his umbrella, and almost felt its shade before she had ever seen it unfurled. All proved correct—only too correct. It was Cecil here and Cecil there, just a- had been anticipated. Cecil was directed to look after the Mount street luggage even at the railway station, and he took their tickets and found their compartment subsequently. He It was who sat on the box-seat of bis aunt's ea’ riage, looking down backwards to point out this view and that as they whirled along the dusty lanes, and his hand was outstretched to help them to alight ere any assistance could be offered. Then the net was drawn still closer. Cecil was told off to show the cousin, who was a stranger, the beauties of the shady garden, with its cool retreats and rustling water banks. Ce il had to gather for her the evening buttonhole from his aunt's Hower beds. And [Cecil was advised to take her out in ;the little boat that only held two later ipn in tne evening. ’ That she declined, but escape from the rest bad been impossible. The next morning was a repetition of the same She found her cousin in the seat beside her at the breakfasttable. and he followed her out into the veranda directly the meal over. E Before the very beginning of the fray she was sick to death of it. of him. and of everyone. K The lovely landscape around her had no beauty in her eyes. The blue, glittering river, winding its wa between its willowy banks, with its usual repose broken by the thousands of rain-bow-tinted holiday makers, ail plying oar and sail for the same point she •eai’ce cared to look u;>on it. The warm hay-uelds. merry with haymakers. with their background of solemn foliage, all one milky, gray-green hue in the July sunshine-she beheld the fair scene as tho igh it wereabsgbear. ® Silent and sullen she sat, scarce lifting her gaze from the water at her aide, her large sunshade screening her from the observation of the rest, her thoughts elsewhere. ■TCecil was rowing, and looking his best in his nice new flannels. He was not altogether happy, poor fellow: he had a gnawing sense of being ungraciously met and repelled at evsry turn that day: and as until new he had never experienced any actual rebuffs and had never been able to ascertain positively that his cousin had even wilfully avoided him since excuse and explanation had always been so glib upon her tongue—the bed of roses he had proposed for himself in Aunt Maria's vine-covered cottage, was like to prove but a thorny couch. j Somehow he had reckoned on Geraldine's being all his own if he could Ouve detach her from Be’leisden. It had seemed to him that to Bellenden's baneful influence only, was due his ■Cousin's variable moods and slippery ways of late. She had been forever eluding him sometimes on one acco nt. sometimes on another he could BO' cateh her tripping, but it had been •o. as a fact, towhatever cause due ■He thought, nay he felt sure, that Bellenden was at the bottom of it. Bellenden and he were now almost •penly ant agonistic: had been for the pa-t fortnight and Geraldine, while affecting to perceive nothing, was, he could not but think, covertly bn Bellemien's side. ■ But if once he could undermine Bellen ien s influence, and counteract the impression which he had apparently Hade afresh, he tho ght he could Won reinstate himself with the cousin. That Sir Frederick was not seriously in earest. that he had no aim beyond ■fending well with one of the reigning beauties of the season and being seen in her train by those who chronicle such records, we must do youngßayJRond the justice to say was his honest

and deliberate conviction. His own feeling for Geraldine was of the calmest and steadiest. He had always been fond of her as a child he had seen her open to improvement, and he saw her open to imi rovement now: b it he admired and was attracted, and the fact that the match would lie one to please his parents and sisters did not in any wise detract from its merits in his eyes, as such facts have been known to do. But Bellenden had in all probabilityno idea of a match at all. Bellenden was not a marrying man. He had a manner: it meant nothing. He had employed it with Ethel, and it had misled her and her mother. He was now making free with Geraldine, and she. foolish child, was once again falling into the snare. Was it for him to stand by and see his dear sweet, loveable cousinthus trifled with? Assuredly not. CHAPTER XVII. “YOU ARE A PATIENT MAN, SIR FREDERICK. If Geraldine had only known what was passing in the young man's breast! She fancied, as people have done, and will do to the end of time, that whatever might be her own doubts, and fears, emotions and agitations, they were safely hidden in the innermost recesses of her heart, secure from every one's ken but her own. It was her one comfort that no one—not even her poor dear—dreamed of those nightly musings and the daily struggle: and that Cecil. Ce il of all people. Cecil, to whom she had so long been after her manner, sub oct, of whose opinion she still had a cold dread, and for whom she still entertained a certain uneasy respect that Cecil should have made the tumultuous upheaval of her soul the subject for his calm, dispassionate dissection, would have been sufficient to let us see what it did do when the frightful truth burst upon her. All that day Cecil was on the watch. His hand was the one on which she had to depend for support, as she stepped ashore upon the green bank, so well known at Henley, where the favored few are permitted to excite the envy of the multitude, where they can feast spaciously and luxuriously’, in the long, cool grass beneath the shade, unencumbered by the vulgar, and where they can at ease promenade presently, un ostled by the clamorous. Cecil was his cousin's escort towards the spot where Aunt Maria's welltrained servants had already almost compiet-d their tempting arrangements. where the lamb, and chicken, and lobster, and salad, the salmon and cucumber, the pie and the rate were repeated up and down the snowy tablecloth. and where the champagne botties were up to their necks in the icepails behind the tree. Geraldine s place was selected in tho shadiest corner, behind which there was a niche: not yet to be tilled up.but into which some one would by-and by insert himself, some one who was so openly and palpably her cavalier for the nonce, that none of the other young men of the party durst so much as offer her a pieie of bread, although there was more titan one present who would fain have Jone so. Did she want to go on the river, luncheon being over? ( evil's own little cushioned beat was lying ready,and he would be too proud to take her. No? Would she prefer the Guards’ inclosure? The ••Isthmian ' inclosure? The Hungarians were playing in the latter, but either inclosure was open to her, as Cecil bad pas.-es for both. What was she to say? Any inclosure that inclosed her, and excluded him? Hardly. Would she then see the next race rowed? If so. he would show her the right place, the point from which a tine open view, unencumbered by house-boats, might oe obtained? Oh, she was too tired to walk. Would she take a seat? There were seats in abundance among the trees; and to be sure there was a glare on the river, ii would be cooler and pleasanter to get among the trees even as be spoke, she had t med away from him with tin exclamation. She had fancied she saw Bellenden. Previously, no idea of the extent and magnitude of the festival had entered into her mind, and she had supposed that once there, she would have had no difficulty in being found by one minded to find her. A regatta was not a racecourse, she had argued: and she had been at regattas before—having witnessed a few d ill yachts cruising about in tho Firth of Clyde, and stood among a few hundred spr tators to see them come in i which ih.y never did,) but of the great regratta of the south, ot the crowd, the din, the confusion and strife, the Babel of tongues, the difficulty of movement, and the almost impossibility of meeting without previous apj ointment, she had had no sort ot conception, while Bellenden had been e ually ignorant. Had he ever been at Henley Regatta before he would have known, indeed, to confine his search within certain limits: but he had not learned his lesson, and had somehow picked up a vague impression that the ladies' quarter was near the bridge, on a large and thronged platform, an : finding none of the Raymonds there had somewhat disconcerted him. Ho had, however, proceeded with his search, scoured the water, assailed the inclosure, peered over the decks of house-boats, and been everywhere and looked everywhere but in the one place where his dove had hidden herself, and in consequence he had of course searched and scoured in vain Finally he had given it up. and gone home in disgust, but meaning to have compensation in Mount street presently. Geraldine had evidently been kept from him bv the Hay monds and St. Georges in collusion: either she had not been at the regatta at all, or she had been kept out of sight on purpose: in either of which cases there would be no sort of use in his going down again on the second day. The train had been a purgatory, the rush at the ticket office, and the scramble tor a seat something to shudder at, the whole affair a noisy, vulgar, ttnremunerative day. He had not seen a thing, he had scarcely met a person he knew, he had never endured four hours of greater martyrdom. And. after ail. very little would have been obtained, even if he had found

Geraldine in her present company. The Raymonds were obvioualy holding her fast for the son and heir, and she was for the time unattainable. It would have been but a word, or at most a brief naif hour by her side and that probably with Cecil, or some deputy of Cecil’s on the other side. It would be but that if he went on the second day; and on the evening of the second day the ladies were to return to town. He decided to stop in town, and present himself in Mount street during that evening. The moment the decision had been arrived at, it assumed a form that made up for all the past. Bah! the idea of telling a love tale amidst the roar and riot of that horrid place, beneath a scorching sun. and surrounded by gaping crowds True, ‘he had meant to wait, and had hoped for the best—for some opening, some chance invitation which might lead to a twilight spent in Paradise, supposing Mrs. St. George, for instance, had proved to be a goodnatured. hospitable woman, and he had gone ba k with the party to The lutwn? But this hope had faded away during tlie long. hot. fruitless search, and at the close of the day he had felt himself a fool ever to ha. e entertained it. The little balcony in Mount street, among the blue pots' of field daisies, would do as well as, or better than the banks of the Thames. So it would, and so it might have done, had the lover not been anticipated. It was late for some people, early for others—in brief, it was past 9 o'clock when the announcement of Sir Frederi. k Belleuaen's name made Geraldine start from the chair into which she had thrown herself towear out the remainder of a wretched dav. She ha<l not dreamed of his. or of anyone's coming in at that hour: and her hair had been unloosed, her hat. gloves, and parasol thrown down anywhere, and her handkerchief, wet through and through, allowed o drop by hee side, as she leaned her flushed face upon her hand, thinking over all that had taken place. Granny had retired for the night, still more worn out and exhausted: for the family gathering had not been a success, and noth she ami Geraldine had issued from it as it were, in disgrace. Her two daughters had alike resentfully held her at arm’s length. Maria had subjected her to questions and , comments, Charlotte to innuendoes. She had seen them interchange glances now and again on the reception of her replies, and had by degrees come to grasp the situation in all its I details, and to penetrate intothe secret of the displeasure which she had herself incurred. It had become plain that she was now understood to be unfavorable to the sisters' views. It had become equally obvious that those views had met with some, great and unexpected check When the hour fordeparture had arrived, she and her charge had been suffered to leave without any of those cheerful prognostications and pleasant words and wishes usual on such occasions. There had been no little loving attentions and flatteries and scarcely even a respectable show of response to her own thanks and farewells instead, there ha I been an ominous silence, lowering looks, and cold kisses ard Cecil had been nowhere to be found. That had informed her of the whole truth, and Geraldine,when tasked, had not even sought to deny it. Yes. it was as granny had surmised Cecil, ; foolish boy. had made himself ridicu- : lous and her very angry; ho had been very rude, he “Rude!” Granny might well open her eyes. Sbe lad never known Cei oil Raymond rude in his life. What should he be rule for now? ‘Because I could not agree with < him. and because I told him he was a spy and a slanderer, " then had burst forth Geraldine, with cheeks aflame: “that was why oh, that was why,” she had repeated, her I osom heaving at the recollection. I "But, my dear, my darling, Ido not understand”—no wonder the poor old j lady had been mystified—"l underj stand that Cecil, poor fellow, forwhom lam very sorry”— ' poor, dear boy, I wish he had held his tongue,” in parenthesis —“I understand that you cannot care for him as he does for you: but why should you have been to' so hasty with him? Why should you not quietly and kindly have refused to listen — ” "I did refuse to listen: but not until he had spoken oh. not until 1 had heard him say such things——” and upon this the poor child had wept and sobbed afresh, and no more had been forthcoming. [TO BE CONTINUED.[ SPOILED MACREADY’S ORATION An Unusually Strong I'fnrh of Snuff Made the Corpse Sneeze on the Stag;©. When Macready was a young man classical drama in blank verse held the stage, says London Figaro. One of these was “zEmilius; or, the Fall of Rome.” zEmilius was played by an actor named Pope, and the exigencies of the play required him to be brought on the stage on abler, supposedly dead, and Flavius, acted by Macready, spoke an oration over the body. Pope was an inveterate snuff-taker, and just before going on one night he borrowed a pinch from one of the stage attendants. He was accustomed to a mild invigorant, but the borrowed tobacco was the fiery Welsh stuff. Pope was j duly brought on the stage by the usual army of “supers,” and Macready beI gan: ••Thou last of the Romans, thy bleeding country calls thee in vain. Time and fortune may do their worst Since thou——” Here, to Macready’s astonishment, Pope's lace began to work, and then came a sneeze from the dead Roman that shook the flies. Macready started as if shot, and the audience began to titter, but he went on: “Since thou hast left us we are encompassed by enemies who ” Here the corpse began to show aniI mation, and then came a succession of sneezes. Boiling over with rage, and in a voice heard all over the house, : Macready muttered: “Drat your blood, sir, why don’t you do your sneezing off the stage?” The audience shouted and the scene ended by the corpse stalking off tc ' find and kill the ma” who gave him the snuff.

FACTS FOR FARMERS. HELPFUL SUGGESTIONS FOR THE AGRICULTURISTS. Several Devices Which Will Prove Savers of Time and Money-cm Look After the Roads—Remember that Onions Are Hardy, Device for Blanching Celery. The "new celery culture” does away, , to a certain extent, with artificial blanching, but many people do not follow this method of close planting, while, moreover, some sorts of celery I will not blanch, even with close planting, unless banked by earth, boards, I or something of the sort. Earth is — JL F7T* 4’ / UfW Vi s' J/ ——il - V 77 r objectionable in many cases, while the use of boards is expensive and cumbersome if one’s celery rows are somewhat extensive. The accompanying illustration shows a device that may lie found useful. The cheapest of cotton ’ cloth is bought and torn into strips of the required width, when it may be hemmed upon a sewing machine. The whole, when dipped into a ten-cent : package of black dye, is ready to oe tacked upon slender sticks, sharpened at one end. It is a simple and very easy matter then to pla e these strips of cloth along the sides of the celery ] rows, turning at the end and going . back upon the other side of the row. ! Sufficient shade may perhaps be as- | forded in most cases without dyeing I the white cloth.—Grange Judd Farmer. Farmer Boys and Their Fathers. All farmers' boys cannot take a course at the agricultural college, but if the fathers of these boys do their duty, many of them will be able to take a scarcely less valuable course of study at home. The wide diffusion of agricultural knowledge by means of bulletins, books, and the agricultural press, and j the influences of Granges, Alliances, and similar organizations, has produced a large number of intelligent farmers. They know not only the art of farming but the science that underlies it. Let them establish a college at home and train their own sons. That the boys are not trained to follow the calling of their fathers, and made to feel a deep interest in it. is due largely to thoughtlessness and carelessness on tlie parts of parents. The boy is made acquainted only with the rough side of the business. He is given duties to perform with no explanation of the why and the wherefore. He feeds the stock so much of this and of that, but is not told of the j mysteries of digestion, nor why it is better to feed one ration rather than another. He is left in the dark on the subject of the nutritive value of foods, and sees no reason for the care he is required to exercise in feeding. If it appears to the boys as a wearisome, humdrum business, the father is probably- at fault. "All work and no play makes Jack" a store clerk or a lawyer instead of a farmer. It would be an advantage to the son and the father, too, for the sou to have an insight into the business side of farming, for him to know all about the expenses and the income, the necessity for certain expenditures and for economy in other directions. He should be taught how to buy and how to sell. Many a boy has to learn ali this after his father dies, and the responsibility is suddenly thrown on his shoulders.— Farm Journal. Improved Brace for Wire Fences. One trouble with wire fences is the liability of the wires to become loose, sagging down or losing their tension. This is mainly caused by the posts tipping or leaning toward the point of the ■ greatest strain and which is not fully ■ overcome by the common plan of plae- ■ ing a brace against the top end of the ■ post, the other end being imbedded in I the ground. This lower end is subject I to the action of frost, decay, and the : liability of the stone or other substance I against which it rests to become dis- j placed. By the plan shown herewith : SECURE WIRE FENCE BRACE. this trouble is obviated and a firm anchorage secured. The two end posts are connected at the top by a strip or pole a. two two by three-inch strips m m are nailed in the form an X to the top aud bottom of the posts; they are also firmly connected together ' at the center by bolts or spikes. This plan answers equally well for ends of : fences or the center of a long line. In the latter case it equalizes the strain I from both directions.—Orange Judd | Farmer. Blackberries and Raspberries. At the late meeting of the Ohio Hor- . ticultural Society. Prof. Green, of tho ' 1 State Experiment Station, in a report on new fruits, stated that El Dorado promised to take a place among standard varieties of blackberries. It has endured a temperature of 12 degrees below zero, and is certainly hardier 1 than Lawton or Erie, which it nearly | equals iu size of berry, and probably as hardy as Snyder or Ancient Briton. Os large-fruited berries. Minnewaska is about the hardiest. Among rasp- i i berries, the variety Ebony bears black i berries, which present a beautiful up- i pearance in the basket. It is of medium size and season. Eureka com- i l

mences to ripen early, and bears yerv late, covering the entire season of Palmer and Gregg, aud yielding about as much as both together. The Gault seems to be an exception to the socalled ever-bearing varieties, which are generally worthless, in that it is vigorous and exceedingly- productive. The main crop begins to ripen with the Gregg. Tlie berries are large and firm, and the plant bears through a verylong season. The Farmer's Aviary. "Counting out the good the birds do.” said a fruit-grower at a Chester Countyinstitute, “their music is worth ail the berries and cherries they eat, and more. I say to the robins and bluebirds, and the catbirds and finches, draw up and help yourselves, and even the crows know my whistle, and come down to it. Every year the robins and the catbirds build around our house, and in tlie same old places. And you should hear the catbirds sing. But you will never hear them unless you take care of them and make them feel at home. The influence of this bird life upon our farm has told upon every member of my family, and I say to you, farmers, protect the birds. Tempt them to your trees, and then protect them.”—Philadelphia Ledger. Effects of Creameries. The establishment of creameries has done much to enlighten the farmers. They have been compelled to give some consideration to the breeds of cattle, to use better implements in the dairy, and to produce better butter iu order to compete for the highest prices. Those who patronize the creameries have lessened their labor, and combined several other pursuits with the keeping of good cows. On farms where formerly only milk and butter were sold there is now a diversity of crops, and varied products are shipped to market A Quickly Made Stable Pen. It frequently happens that one desires to make use, for an emergency, of a stall or pen in the stable which is not at hand, and for which there may not convenient room as a permanent structure. Our illustration shows how such a pen may be made in a moment's time, in a corner that ordinarily may be used for other purposes. Two gates are made and hinged against tlie walls in Ute manner shown. Ordinarily they are folded back snugly against either wall, but when a pen or “box stall” is suddenly needed the two ends are swung together and locked with < III* Z I -T|rZZ--L. • % * A*' CHEAP STABLE PEN. hooks, and the needed accommodation is secured. Such gsites should have slats quite near together, and should be of good height to accommodate both large and small animals.—Orange Judd Farmer. Good Trees to Start With. One of the drawbacks to fruit growing is the fact that farmers economize at the beginning. They buy from tree peddlers and do not find out that their trees are of worthless varieties until they begin to bear, but as several years will then hav'e been lost the mischief cannot be repaired, and work must be done over again. Do not buy trees from any but known and reliable nurserymen, and do not refuse choice trees because the prices are apparently high. Be sure of good trees first and then begin the economy afterward. Alfalfa and Potatoes. “As a renovator and enricher of the soil" alfalfa is said to be equal, if not superior, to red clover, but is hard to plow up and very difficult to eradicate. Attention is called to the fact that the finest and most perfect of the famous Colorado potatoes are grown after alfalfa, and a rotation including it is being rapidly adopted in that potato country. Notes. The National Nurseryman suggests that originators turn their attention toward tlie improvement of the blackbery and raspberry in the line of reducing the size of the seeds. A heavy application of ground-bone will produce excellent results for several years, for the reason that the bone gives off its particles slowly, and is not dissolved for several seasons. Hot beds for early plants may be prepared, and the manure put in later. Save fresh horse manure that is free from litter, keeping it iu a cool place, so that it will not begin to heat until wanted for use. By clearing out underbrush and refuse. not only from the fences and other places but where piles have accumulated in the forest, there will be less liability of forest tires. Green trees do not take fire quickly. It is the dry material that causes the damage. Where the best crops are produced weeds never gain a foothold, and never have a chance to grow. This law is universal. Weeds do little injury to good farms, and on tlie contrary good farming exterminates weeds. This fundamental truth should be taken into consideration whenever the country becomes agitated over some newweed. Experiments conducted at the Alabama Experiment Station with Ragi millet, Eleusine coracana, and Kodo millet, a species of Paspalium, both obtained from the Madras Presidency, seem to prove that these plants will make good pasture crops for cows and other stock, and also be profitable hayproducing plants in the Southern States.

■ The Growing Uses of Borax. Sprinkle places infested by ants with borax and you will soon be rid of them. Blankets and furs put away well sprinkled with borax and done up airI tight will never be troubled with moths. A little borax put iu the water before washing red or red-embroidered tablecloths and napkins will prevent I their fading. Ringworms will yield to borax treat, i meut. Apply a strong solution of borax three times a day; also dust on the dry i powder very often. Silver spoons and forks in daily use may be kept bright by leaving them in strong borax water for several hours. I The water should be boiling when they are put iu. Put a teaspoonful of borax in your I rinsing water; it will whiten the clothes , and also remove the yellow east on ■ garments that have been laid aside for i two or three years. One of the best things to cleanse the j scalp thoroughly is to dissolve one-half teaspoonful of borax in a quart of water and apply it, rubbing it iu well. Rinse thoroughly in clear water. For washing tine, nice flannels nothing will cause them to look so nice as borax in the water, a teaspoonful of borax to a pail of water being the right proportion. Always wash baby’s little flannel skirts, shirts, etc., in this. Always wash baby’s mouth and gums every morning with water in which you have put a pinch of borax. It keeps tlie mouth fresh and sweet, and pieVfiits diat uncomfortable affliction, a sore mouth, with which so many poor babies are troubled when their mouths are not kept perfectly clean. Borax water is excellent for spong- , ing either silk or wool goods that are I not soiled enough to need washing. In ■ washing cashmere or wool goods, put a ■ little borax in tlie water. This will cleanse them much more easily and beti ter, without injury to the colors. Do i not rub them on a board, but use the I hands, and throw on a line without I wringing. Press them on the wrong side, and they will look almost like new.—Good Housekeeping. To Choose Meat. Venison—The choice of venison should be regulated by tlie appearance of the fat, which, when the venison is young, looks bright, thick, clear and close. It first changes toward the haunches. To ascertain whether it is sweet run a knife into that part; if tainted, it will have a rank smell. Beef—True, well-fed beef will exhibit an open grain of deep coral red. and thf fat wiil appear of a healthy, oily smoothness, rather inclining to white than yellow; the suet firm aud white, | Yellow fat is a test of meat of an infe- ; riot- quality. Heifer beef is but little i inferior to ox beef; the lean Is of a closI er grain, the red paler, and the fat | whiter. Veal —Where you observe the kidney I surrounded with fat you may be sure the meat is of good quality. The whit- : est is not the best veal. There is a vein in the shoulder very perceptible, and its color indicates the freshness of the meat; if a bright red or blue it is recently killed; if any green or yellow spots are visible it is stale. Pork—ln young pork the lean where pinched will break: the thickness and toughness of the rind snows it to be old. In fresh pork the flesh is firm, smooth, a clear color, and the fat set. When stale it is clammy and flabby. Measly pork may be detected by the kernels in the fat. and should not be eaten. Lamb should be eaten very fresh. Iu the forequarter the vein in tlie ueck being any other color than blue betrays it to be stale. In tho hindquarter try the kidney with your nose; the faintness of the smell will prove it to be stale. ! Mutton—The best is of a fine grain, a bright color, the fat firm and white. I It is better for being full grown. A Fever Bath. A doctor recommends the following device for giving fever patients a bath. An india-rubber blanket or sheet is | passed under the patient in bed, and the corners raised so as to make a dish into which the water of a suitable temperature is poured. A makeshift shower bath can also be given in the same way by means of a watering pot with a rose on the spout. The bath can be ! emptied agan with a syphon, sponge, or cup. and the rubber cloth withdrawn I without incommoding the sufferer. Home Hints, Heat the knife before cutting warm bread or cake. To restore gilt frames, rub with a I sponge moistened with turpentine. A French physician reports a case of ! hiccough successfully treated by taking snuff until sneezing was provoked. If your bureau drawers move in and ; out with difficulty, rub soap over their edges. If that does not remedy the trouble use sandpaper. If brooms are dipped in hot suds once a week they will become very tough, will not cut the carpet, will last longer, and always sweep like a new broom. I It Is claimed by an excellent authori ity that a little nutmeg grated into such : vegetables as spinach, carrots, and I string beans is a great addition to tlie ' flavor. Good coffee can be made in a perfectly clean pot and with fresh water, When the pot is greasy fill it with water, put in a piece of bard soap, set it on the stove and boil. At the end of I an hour it will be as good as new.