Democratic Press, Volume 1, Number 34, Decatur, Adams County, 6 June 1895 — Page 3

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CHAPTER XIII. It was early on the morning following that the young earl sought his mother. After a night of sleepless and anxious deliberation he resolved upon making an appeal to her affection; that, he thought, she could never withstand; and he was right in his conjecture. He appealed to his mother’s love, and won from her a most reluctant consent to his marriage* with Lady Hutton’s ward. “I suppose she will inherit all Lady Hutton’s fortune,” said the countess. “I have never thought about it,” replied her son, indifferently; “she is peerless herself; but I have no doubt she will.” “It will not be so bad after all.” said her ladyship, complacently, “if her pedigree is all right.” Lord Bayneham laughed, and. elated with the concession he had won from his proud mother, went to seek Lady Hutton. There seemed to be a strange calm in the house when he reached it. The windows were closed, and the servant who opened the door looked unusually grave and serious. “Can I see Lady Hutton?” asked Claude; “is she engaged?” “Her ladyship is seriously ill. my lord,” was the man’s reply; “she was seized with a fit last evening, and has not been conscious since.” “Is Miss Hutton with her?” he inquired, inexpressibly shocked at the news. “Miss Hutton has never left my lady since she was taken ill,” the man replied. “I hope to hear better news this evening,” said Lord Bayneham as he turned away. He felt like one in a dream; the sun was shining brightly, the streets were crowded with gayly dressed people; life, gayety and happiness seemed to thrill through the summer air. yet over the house he had left hung the dark cloud of illness, and perhaps approaching death. He went to his club and there wrote his first love letter, telling Hilda her sorrow’ was his, and asking to share it. “Let me see you this evening,” he said, “just to give you some little consolation ” When the letter was gone Lard Bayneham felt more at ease. To do his mother justice, she was startled and shocked to hear of Lady Hutton’s illness. “It would be moat awkward if anything happened just now,” she said. “I trust, at least, she will recover consciousness.” The day passed slowly, Claude longing for the evening, when he could see Hilda and share her sorrow. A dark cloud hung over Lady Hutton’s magnificent house. The servants moved noiselessly and spoke in hushed voices. Grave physicians met and consulted how best to do battle with the grim king of terrors. In a luxurious chamber lay the lady so suddenly and awfully stricken. The summer sun tried tu pierce the rich green hangings, and succeeded in throwing a mellow half-golden light over the room. The velvet curtains, with their deep fringe, were thrown aside; there, pale, serene and calm, no longer conscious of earthly things, lay Lady Hutton. Her pale lips were parted, and a faint, feeble breath passed them. She lay there, and life was ended for her. its hopes and sorrows all over. It mattered but little new that she had loved and lost, that she had been rich, courted and flattered, that men had bent before her and paid homage to her rank and wealth; all that was over. Before the sunset she would be where virtue and goodness, not money and position, take the first place and wear the golden crown. Only one thing mattered now. and that was, if the life ebbing away had been well spent. The moment had come; the evening sun had set in all its glory; the beautiful gloaming, half-golden, half-gray, had begun. when Hilda, bending over the white face, saw, a faint quivering of the closed eyelids and the sealed lips. Then the dark eyes opened with a wistful, wondering look, that pierced the child’s heart. “Hilda.” whispered Lady Hutton, “what is it, my darling? Am I going to die?” “Mamma,” cried the trembling girl, “let me go with you.” “I must tell you,” said Lady Hutton, “something—let me have more air, I cannot breathe. I want to tell you, darling, about your own mother. Perhaps I did wrong—but I loved you so dearly—you are like my own Maud. Can no one give me air?” Hilda tried to raise the dying lady, whose words came in short, quick gasps. “I want to tell you, darling,” she saidthen a sudden glaze fell over the wistful eyes, an awful pallor settled on the face, and the half-raised hand fell heavily on Hilda’s arm. Lady Hutton had gone “where the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at rest.” “Carry that poor child away,” said Dr. Wells, to one of the attendants. Hardly more conscious than the one who lay at rest, Hilda was carried into the nearest room, which happened to be the library, and laid upon the couch. At that moment there was a slight stir in the hall; Lord and Lady Bayneham had arrived. The intelligence of the sudden death had bewildered them. “Where is Miss Hutton?” asked the young earl. “Lady Bayneham is come to take charge of her; let us see her at once.” The man who had opened the door never dreamed of offering any resistance. “Miss Hutton has been taken to the library, my lord,” he said. When they entered the darkened room Hilda raised herself frOui the COuC-h. “Let me go back to her,” she was saying to Dr. Wells. “I cannot believe it. It is impossible she can be dead.” Then the tired, frightened eyes fell upon the face of lord Bayneham. She moved i toward him with a wistful cry. He clasp- I ed her in his arms, and laid her head upon • his breast

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"Hilda, my darling.” he whispered, “my wife that is to be, I am come to share your sorrow—it is mine also.” Lady Bayneham looked on. her eyes full cf tears. The delicate, lonely child, so lovely in the abandonment of her grief, touched that world-worn heart. She silently withdrew with the doctor, and left those whose love death had sanctified. CHAPTER XIV. Lady Bayneham forgot all her own cherished notions of etiquette, and warmly pressed the lonely young girl to return with her to Grosvenor Square, but nothing would induce Hilda to leave the house. She was too young, too inexperienced, to know that time would soften her grief. Mr. Abeison, assisted by Lord Bayneham, undertook all arrangements for the funeral. Lady Hutton was laid to rest near the bonny woods of Brynmar, where the greater part of her life had been •spent. Ix>rd Bayneham was chief mourner, and two distant cousins of Lady Hutton’s, looking out for a legacy, were there also. “You will attend in the library for the reading of the will, Miss Hutton,” said the family lawyer, after their return to London. Hilda bowed assent. She was very silent in these the first days of her bereavement. and she seemed half shy, half frightened, when with Lady Bayneham. The poor wounded child found her greatest comfort with Barbara—noble, unselfish Barbara, who forgot when she caressed the fair head and parted the golden hair from the sad, sweet face, that she was in the presence of her rival, the one who had stolen from her her love. She saw a grieving, sorrowful, lonely girl in place of the brilliant young beauty who had won Claude's heart, and Hilda clung to her as she would have done to a sister of her own. Miss Earle spent the time that intervened between Lady Hutton’s death and funeral with Hilda. She did not leave her night or day; and Claude, who after that one interview did not like to ask for another, found his only comfort in hearing from Barbara the loving little messages sent by his fair-haired wife that was to be. The will was but a short one. The tw o cousins were not forgotten; a handsome legacy repaid them for all their affectionate solicitude over the poor lady’s health. Every old servant was remembered, and the beautiful estate of Brynmar, the house in London, money in the funds, carriages, horses, jewels and plate, were all bequeathed by Lady Hutton to her adopted daughter, Hilda, who thereby became one of the richest heiresses in England. It was all her own. to do what she would with, without any stipulations or conditions; but Lady Hutton hoped she would never part with Brynmar. There was no mention of her adoption or of her parentage, not a word that gave any clew to it whatever. “I must congratulate you. Miss Hutton." said the lawyer, when the bill was read. “I wish, though,” interrupted Hilda, with tears in her eyes, “that there had been one word of my mother.” Two guardians were appointed to take charge of the young heiress. They were Mr. Abeison and Dr. Greyling. who had been Lady Hutton’s confidential friends for many years. Until she was twentyone a certain income was to be allowed her, and Brynmar was to be her home, unless she married before then, in which case she would immediately come into full possession of her property. For several days the lonely young heiress remained in the large solitary house, seeing no one but Barbara and occasionally Lady Bayneham. She would not see Claude yet; she knew his presence would bring with it such a rush of happiness, it seemed almost a sacrilege to think of it. She resolved to return to Brynmar. By Mr. Abelson’s advice and assistance an elderly lady was found who, in consideration of a handsome yearly income, consented to live as duenna and chaperon with Miss Hutton: the two guardians having decided that she was far too young and too pretty to live alone. “I fancy our responsibility will soon end,” said Dr. Greyling. with a quiet smile. “Lord Bayneham will be very happy, I think, to relieve us of it.” It was nearly the end of .Tune when Hilda and Mrs. Braye returned to Brynmar. Barbara having given her promise to meet Hilda when the London season was quite over. When she returned to her early home Hilda resolved to search amongst Lady Hutton's letters and papers to see if it were possible to find any clew to her adoption and parentage. In the grand library at Brynmar stood a large oaken bureau, where the poor lady had been wont to keep all letters and papers. There Hilda searched; there she found letters worn and yellow with age, love letters written by the gay and dashing Lord Hutton to the quiet, dignified Miss Erskine; but neither there nor anywhere else could she find any mention of herself. In the quiet and silence of Brynmar her health and spirits returned. Something of the old beautiful bloom was on her face when, six weeks afterward, Barbara came, saying that, in spite of all remonstrances. Claude would come, too —not to remain, but only for a few hours, just to see how his newly won treasure looked. Hilda went with him to the shady green glade in the woods where he first saw her: and there, with tears shining in her eyes, she told him Lady Hutton's dying words, and how impossible she had found it to discover who her parents were. He loved her too deeply to care, and he kissed the tears from her face, and told her never to think of it again. She was Hilda Hutton to all the world, and would soon be Hilda, Lady Bayneham. He made her promise that when the spring blossoms came she would be his wife. As the time drew near Lady Hnyneham made some faint remonstrance, but it was soon withdrawn, because she saw the whole happiness of her son’s life was involved. Unless he married Hilda he would never marry at all. Outwardly she I was amiably indifferent, but in her heart I there was something resembling dislike ! for the beautiful young girl, who had un-

consciously thwarted the one plan and wish of her life and heart. Spring came with its blossoms and budding leaves. The wedding was to take place in the pretty country church at Brynmar, and a gay party of guests assembled there. Bertie Carlyon had gladly accepted his old friend's invitation to officiate as best man, for he was longing to see Barbara again. Diffidence or delicacy—he hardly knew which —had prevented him from calling since he knew she was free. The flowers Hilda loved were blooming on her wedding day, when the words were spoken that made her Claude Bayneliam’s wife, and no one wished her joy more truly or more kindly than Barbara Earle. Lord Bayneham took his young wife to Switzerland. lie wanted to show her every beautiful place in the world all at once. Barbara told him. laughingly, he must be content with one, and Hilda had chosen Switzerland. Barbara's words were gayest when the hour of parting came. Barbara's face was the last that smiled as the carriage, containing perhaps the two happiest people in the world, drove away. Bertie Carlyon stood by Barbara's side, watching with love’s keen eyes every change in that noble face. He saw no trace of sorrow there. Barbara did not keep her woes for the world’s amusement. She was calm, kind and serene, thoughtful for Claude, for Hilda and for Lady Bayneham. It would have required more shrewdness than Bertie possessed to discover any sign of an aching heart in those calm, clear eyes and smiling lips. "I think they will be happy,” he said, as the carriage disappeared. “Some mortals have an enviable lot. I should imagine that Claude has not one cloud iu his sky. I, on the contrary, have no sunshine.” "You!” cried Barbara, turning to him quickly; “why, ever since I can remember anything at all, I have heard my cousin cite you as the happiest man he knew ” “I make no complaint." said Bertie. “I have enjoyed my life hitherto as the birds and flowers enjoy theirs, without thought or care. I never woke to realities until I became sure of obtaining a certain treasure. Looking within myself, I found I was unworthy of it. He who would win must fight.” “Why can not you fight?” said Barbara, interested, in spite of her own secret sorrow. “You are too diffident. A man should never mistrust his own powers, if he would have others respect them.” “Miss Earle,” said Bertie, suddenly, “will you be my friend? A man can do noble deeds if he has a noble woman to influence him. Be my friend, and there is nothing too high or too difficult for me to attempt, if you will aid me. I should value your friendship more than the love of nil the world put together.” Bertie was most sublimely unconscious that his words were a declaration of love in themselves; and Barbara smiled as she looked at his handsome, eager face. "I will be your friend,” she said, “if, as you think. I can be useful to you.” “The mouse once helped the lion," said Bertie; “and it is just possible the time may come when Bertie Carlyon. the poor younger son of a not over-rich baronet, may be of some assistance to Miss Earle. Remember,” he continued, “if the time should ever come that you want a strong arm or a brave heart, my life is at your service.” And Barbara remembered his words. (To be continued.) Slain by Her Friends. A man In town whose wife is sick was told by the doctor that no visitors were to be admitted under any circumstances, as their presence would tend to make the woman worse. These orders he gave to his wife’s mother, who was in charge. He found that evening on returning that six women had been visiting his wife all afternoon. "There was Mrs. A,” the mother said in excuse; “she had a cousin once who was sick the same way, and I thought she might know some remedies." Mrs. B. was admitted because she was the kin and might get mad if refused. Mrs. C. was let in because she was the richest woman in the neighborhood and it wouldn't do to offend her. Mrs. D. always loaned the patent flat irons every week, and of course had a right to come in. Mrs. E. brought some jelly over and brought Mrs. F., who was visiting her. The man promptly ordered his moth-er-in-law out of the house and put a professional nurse in charge. The next day he found more women had been in. The nurse told them they couldn’t come, but they brushed right past her and rushed in. The patient was much worse, and as a last resort the husband had two policemen standing at the bed-room door with orders to arrest any person who tried to pass. The doctor says the woman has lost the little chance she had of recovery, and that it will be her visitors who killed her. Facts About the Peanut. There is much doubt as to the original home of the peanut. Some say that it is indigenous to Africa; others that it was a native of South America and was carried by the earlier explorers of that country to Spain, and thence to Africa. The earliest authentic tradition tells of its appearance in eastern North Carolina, probablybrought there by some of the slaveships landing cargoes along the coast. The native Africans recognized and used them. Peanuts grow upon a trailing vine with leaves much resembling a small four-leaved clover. The small yellow flow-er it bears is shaped like the blossom of all the pea family. Indeed, the Agricultural Bureau in Washington does not recognize the peanut as a nut at all, but classes it among beans. The soil in which It is cultivated must be light and sandy. After the flower falls away the flowerstalk elongates and becomes rigid, curving iu such away as to push the forming pod well below the surface of the earth. If by any accident this is not done, the nut never matures.— Washington Post. In 1849, at the marriage of the Duke of Milan, a ballet was presented of such magnificence that it was talked of all over Europe. It is stated that there were over 1,200 dancers in this entertainment.

FACTS FOR FARMERS. HELPFUL SUGGESTIONS FOR THE AGRICULTURISTS. Hints on the Cultivation of the Castor Bean —A Convenient Butter-Mak-ing; Device—How to Fight Weeds— To Prevent Smut in Oats. Castor-Oil Bean Culture. Light, sandy loam soil, with a sub- i stratum of clay, is the best land for castor beans, says a writer in the Amer- I lean Agriculturist The ground is brok- 1 en well, as for corn, and rows laid off six feet apart. Between every seventh row an interval of six feet is left, to , admit the passage of a horse ami slide when the beans are being gathered. Before planting, the seeds are soaked over night in lukewarm water. The rW I 'W CASTOR-OIL PLANT. hills are six feet apart, and six seeds are dropped in every hill. When the young plants have become too large for the cutworm, which is their deadliest enemy, they arc thinned out until onlytwo are left in each hill. It is necessary to keep the crop clean, first with the plow, then with the cultivator, and now and then the hoe is used to draw a little soil around them. No work is necessary after the plants have attained a height of two feet unless after a long rain the earth is loosened with a cultivator. The beans ripen in late July and early August. After the ripening a horse and slide are brought into play and driven between the rows, when the pod-bearing spikes are clipped off. They are gathered when the pods turn a chocolate color, lest the beans pop from the pods and be lost, and hauled to the bean shed. This is much like the oldtime threshing floor, twenty or thirtyfeet square, well exposed to the sun. On this well-cleaned floor the spikes are spread and turned over until all the beans have dropped out Then the husks are scraped away, the beans fanned and winnowed of chaff, and bagged. A new supply is then gathered. since the plants continue to bear and mature their seeds until frost a period of several months. An open shed is better than an unprotected floor, as the beans would be ruined by getting wet. The average yield is twenty to thirty-five bushels per acre, and one bushel of seed yields from six quarts to a gallon of castor oil. The crop is fairly profitable in Missouri and Kanias, and has brought good returns wherever raised. While It may do well over a large portion of the Central West, the market for the beans is comparatively limited, the crop going largely to ;he castor-oil factory at St Louis. Home-Made Wagon Jacks. Two wagon jacks are shown in the cut, Fig. 1 being made of two threeinch oak boards (A) bolted together at the top with a small piece for a filler at the top <B) of about two or three inches. The lever (C) is two feet long and two and one-half wide and extends about six inches through the upright A. Put a bolt through the boards A and lever C; then take any kind of smooth wire and make the rod D and cJF] 8 *•’ n • —__l X L WAGON AND BUGGY JACKS. you have a very strong jack. Fig 2is a very handy buggy jack and easilymade. Cut a board the desired height from tlie ground a little below the axle of the buggy, as shown above.—Farm and Home. Harrowing Pastures, There are many old pastures which can be much improved by harrowing with a forty-tooth drag that will cut into the surface soil. This will admit air to places covered by moss, and enable the grass to grow more vigorously. Os course some of the roots of the grass will be destroyed; but the stirring of the soil will make more grow in their place. If there is much moss on the surface it will require underdraining to remove surplus water to make a permanent Improvement Keep Ahead of the Weeds. There is only one economical way to fight weeds that is, to keep ahead of them. When they are just breaking through the ground, sitys the Agriculturist, they can be slaughtered with less labor than at any other time. That is the time to take them in hand. A little later and the work will be doubled. Too many overlook this fact. In many towns 5 per cent, off is allowed on all taxes paid before a certain date, and

men bustle to pay their tax and save that five per cent. A much larger per cent off is secured by the man who takes the weeds in season. One can go over a garden with an iron rake when the weeds are just breaking ground, and In an hour’s time accomplish wonders. A week later he will have to take his hoe and laboriously cut, cut, cut. And even then he doesn't destroy half as many of the roots of weeds as he would have done a week before with the rake. Neglecting the weeds is somthing one simply cannot afford. Preventing Smut in Oats. It is now considered as a settled fact that the smut of oats may be absolutely prevented by- treating the seed according to the Jensen plan, says Hoar’s Dairyman. This is simply to immerse the seed oats in hot water for a short time, by which every smut spore is destroyed and a crop free from disease is insured. No expense is involved and hut slight labor. All that is to be done is to soak the seed oats about ten minutes in water at a temperature of nearly 145 degrees—not much more or less —and then spread them where they can | drain and dry as rapidly as possible. ' Use a thermometer to insure the right temperature, which may be regulated by adding hot or cold water, as is required. An Economical Engine. The experience and observation of the writer enables him to recommend the hydraulic ram, where conditions are suitable, as one of the most economical and efficient and durable engines ever invented, says the Economist At an original cost of $75 water may be } brought to the house from a spring 150 ' yards distant up an elevation of many feet. If there is a spring which will 1 keep an inch and a half drive pipe j full, and a fall of from six to ten feet can be had. a reliable and practically permanent water supply may be carried a distance of from 150 to 300 j yards and elevated fifty to 100 feet There is a ram which can be driven bybranch water and pumps the spring water, and in that case practically the whole spring supply can be utilized.— Exchange. The "Jersey Baby.” This illustration represents an ordinary Jersey milk jug converted into a churn. It is fitted with a view-glass 1 and made air-tight by a simple arrangement of the lid. When suspended, as shown in the cut it will swing with a : range of several inches, and although it lias no internal beaters or dashers it will make butter in from five to ten ***-< *SR' n>,' AN IMPROVISED CHURN. minutes. Os course, a device so small as this is not intended for making butter in great quantity, but as much as five pounds may be made in It readily. The illustration is taken from Cassell’s Magazine. Oat Meal for Young Chickens. Whole oats are not the best feed for hens that are laying. They are not concentrated enough, and wheat, which contains much the same elements of food as does the grain of the oat, is much better. But for young chicks there is no better food than ground oats sifted so as to take out the coarser chaff, and made into a cake. This will be eaten readily, and it wil make the young fowls grow thriftily, even while producing feathers, which is always the most critical period of their growth. Cayenne Pepper for Sparrows, To kill spa -rows, put cayenne pepper In the cr- vices of buildings they infest. Or support a long and wide plank by a stake, scatter grain under 1 it, and when tl'.e sparrows are busily eating pull the -take away by means of a string, and the heavy plank deadfall will kill the sparrows. Others will quickly return to- take their place. Many believe the English sparrow does more good than harm. Does Not Always P. y to Clear Lands. A great deal of time has been spent digging and blasting rock from which labor the farmer has not received ten cents a day, says th" New England Farmer. Sometimes it pays to clear off tlie very rocky fields, b it more often it doesn't pay. Better leave them to pasture, or plant them with apple or Improved chestnut trees and turn In the hens. Rough land, orchards and poultry make a very good trio. Crops Out of the Usual Order. These questions should be asked and answered: Can t I grow something this year out of the usual line of crops that will pay me? Can’t I find a better system of marketing what I produce, as shipping direct, supplying the consumer direct, etc. Scratches on Horses, For scratches nothing is better than a real physic, followed by two days of rest. At the same time, clip the hair from the heels of the horse and apply sulphur one part to crude petroleum two parts. Sell Hogs for the Market. Sell hogs when the market is best and they are ready. There is no wisdom in keeping hogs until they weigh just so many pounds. Changing the Seed. A change of seed is often beneficial. Seed from a distance can frequently be substituted for home growth with marked profit

Cleaning Mattresses. Mattresses are a source of vexation to many housewives who cannot afford to send them every year or two to the upholsterer to be renovated. The thrifty German woman, who never considers any kind of housework too laborious to be undertaken by herself or daughters, empties the mattreses to be cleaned, sees that every particle of the hair filling is picked apart and shaken free of dust Then, after washing in strong soap suds and rinsing in lukewarm water, the filling is squeezed as dry as possible and then hung up to dry in the sun and air in large bags made of mosquito netting. In the meanwhile, the ticking has been washed or a new one substituted, and she Is ready with her long, strong needle and twine to sew together again as well as any upholsterer. Washing Embroideries. In washing embroideries done with crewels on a foundation of linen or crash, the first time bran water should always be used to set the colors. To prepare the water pour a gallon boiling hot over a pound of bran. Let the bran soak in the water a day, stirring it occasionally, then strain it well. Put the article to be washed in the water when it is lukewarm, pressing and ; squeezing it through the water until clean. Do not think of wringing dry, ' but press out all the moisture possible and dry in a warm place without exposure to sunlight When it is still damp, lay the right side on a flannel, and press on the wrong side. Use only the best crewels if you expect them to wash well. Strawberry Cream, One pint of milk, boiled, thicken with yolks of 3 eggs, % cup of sugar, 2 even teaspoons of corn starch and a little salt beaten together; take from fire and flavor with vanilla; have ready in a glass dish as many whole strawberries I as you wish; some like more and some less in their pudding; pour over the berries this cream, then beat the white of the eggs very stiff with a little confectioner’s sugar, and place on the top of the pudding, or stir lightly in so as to have lumps of it all through the pudding. Rhubarb Pudding. Place a layer of rhubarb in the bottom of a baking dish and sprinkle it well over with sugar, and grate on some nutmeg, then a layer of bread cut up the same size as the rhubarb, , and so on until the dish is full; then beat up tlie yolks of 2 eggs, % cup of sugar, pint of milk: flavor with nutmeg and pour over all; bake until done; beat up the whites of the 2 eggs, frost I the top of the pudding, and brown light- : ly. This is delicious and not hard to make. Fruit Salad. A fruit salad is always a much approved mode of serving fresh fruit. When, however, peaches, nectarines, apricots, pears or apples are used in this way, it seems to me it is better to cook them until tender (after paring) in a little syrup before treating them as a salad. The dressing for this kind of salad consists of powdered sugar and wine; but if winff is objected to for any reason, use the syrup in which the I fruit was cooked. Potato Cakes. One cup of boiled potatoes mashed fine, season with salt and pepper; add a tablespoonful of butter, a half teacup of sour milk or cream, two tablespoonfuls of sugar or molasses, one beaten egg. Stir thoroughly with a spoon. Mix a tablespoonful of soda with a teacup of flour; stir this in. then work in flour i enough to roll out easy, not stiff, cut out I any shape you please with a knife, not a biscuit cutter, and fry. Fig Custard Pudding. Split some figs in two and fit them round the bottom and sides of a plain, \ well buttered mould. Fill up with a custard mixture, into which two or three tablespoonfuls of grated bread j crumbs, or some crushed sweeflebis- ; cuits, have been mixed. Let the pud- , ding steam for an hour, and turn out of the mold when quite cold, slipping a i knife around the sides first; serve with : cream. Coffee Cake. One pint of flour, one egg, two tablespoonfuls of sugar, two teaspoonfuls of baking powder stirred with cold water to a stiff batter. Bake in a long flat tin, and before putting in the oven, pour over it a heaping tablespoonful ! of butter, and a little ground cinnamon. Bake a nice brown and serve hot for breakfast or supper with coffee or choci olate. Break the cake instead of cutting It Indian Bread Without Yeast. Beat one egg and put in an earthen bowl; pour in one quart of sour milk and two-thirds cupful of molasses; stir in one cupful of rye or wheat flour and two cupfuls of sifted Indian meal, two teaspoonfuls of soda dissolved in hot water; then put in more meal and , flour until stiff enough, and add a little salt Use twice as much meal as flour. Through Eight. A test was made recently with the new Lebel carbine, at Moulins, France, which yielded surprising results. A bullet from one of these rifles was discharged at an advancing bull It struck ; the animal’s shoulder and came out at | the crupper, completely traversing tlie i bull's body; the large bones were pierced with round holes without spiini tering. It is believed that the bullet ; would have passed through eight men 1 tn a row.