Democratic Sentinel, Volume 14, Number 36, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 3 October 1890 — Page 5

IT TOV HAS HOt DIES. BY JAY JACQUES. X wonder bo oft in rny twilight dream*, When the day.ighta gone and the night draws near. . As I sit in the firelight’s ruddy gleams. And think of the old days, sweet and dear — I -wonder, my darling, how you wonll look If you had not died—were you living now ; If you eat just there with your work or book, The flickering light on your hair and brow. ■Would you be matronly, staid and grand, Or tender and sweet as you used to be, Swaying my life with your soft white hand, Growing closer each year to me. Sweet, there’d be wrinkles UDon your brow, And tiny touches of Time's decay, And your bonny hair would be flecked with snow— I know by my own that is white to-day. Perhaps, dear heart, had you lived for me, Hau yOu not gone home in the early dawn. Some bright-eyed child might have climbed my knee, And cheered our home with his shout and song; Home had been borne in its fullest sense, A beautiful haven of love and cheer. Age had been reaping a recompense Of honest labor and well-spent years. I gaze on this gray-bearded face of mine, That is never caressed by a wife or child; I gaze on this empty chair of thine, On these cheerless walls till my heart grows wild. love, I have lived such a lonely life Since your grave’s been wet with the snow and rain, And God only knows how I miss my wife, How my heart aches on with its ceaseless pain. Ton were so young when you went away, Only a bride <?r a sweet wife-child. But 1 prove by the tears I have shed each day You were the center of all my life. No one could ever have filled your place, No other heart could have been my mate, And I dre&me ach night of your beautiful face, And wonder how long I shall have to wait. Kushvilee, Neb.

BERENICE ST. CYR.

A Story of Love, Intrigue, and Grime.

BY DWIGHT BALDWIN.

CHAPTER VI —Continued. Cole Winters had heard nothing of the tbove conversation, which had been carried on in low tones, but the vacant square in the rough floor was sufficient to apprise him of the diabolical scheme of his heartless enemies. No one spoke, but stepping closer to the lantern, Sears produced a bottle, with the couteuts of which he began saturating a large liandkerehief. “Chloroform!" gasped Cole, as the peculiar odor reached his nostrils. “Yes,” retorted the youthful villain; *it comes high, but I don’t spare expense in making your exit pleasant.” The inhuman wretch laughed, and, advancing, applied the handkerchief to the face of his victim. Cole Winters struggled manfully, but realizing that his efforts at escape were impotent, ceased them and tried to fix his mind upon the awful change which seemed inevitably at hand. He was fast losing consciousness when an nwfal thought set his sluggish brain again into action. When, in accordance with the plans of his murderers, his dead body was discovered, there would be found upon it, not alone the one bond placed in his pocket by Sears, but the fifty-nine others, aggregating in value the enormous sum of §300,000. For these Mr. St. Cyr had been killed, end their presence would establish Cole’s guilt beyond all possible question. Not only was he about to lose his life, but the honorable name bequeathed him by his dead father, was to become a byword of reproach. In pgony he essayed to speak. Tbe gurgling Bound he uttered served only to renew the pressure of the deadly handkerchief. Then men, light, hope of life; thoughts of honor, and, lastly, a vision of fair Berenice St. Cyr, disappeared from his sight and his mind. Five minutes latter the trio of villians entered the deserted den. “I told yor,” whispered Sears as he extinguished the lantern, and made ready to open the street door, “that we were in for a run of good lack. We’ve got a fortune and won’t be as much as suspected!”

CHAPTER VII.

TWO SURPRISES. “Mat Hyland, you’re a fool!” CTHarsh words these, yet the detective to whom they were addressed made no indignant rejoinder; on the contrary he nodded his head approvingly, though the sad expression upon his face seemed to deepen somewhat. “You not only spotted him, but had him dead to rights. You ran upon him, or rather he ran upon you, and you couldn’t land the fish when he’d hooked bimseif on your tackle. I’m ashamed of you, Mat Hyland!” The person who was so freely upbraiding the unfortunate detective paused in his walk, and spat upon the ground to Emphasize Jiis dissust. Mat Hyland did exactly the same thing. Lest the reader think this a strange coincidence, we must explain that the upbraiding personage and the officer were one and the same man. Mat was, in soliloquy, administering to himself a well-deserved rebuke. “Not in all the ten years and more that you’ve been on the force,” he continued, as he resumed his walk down Clark street, “did you ever make such a break before. You’d better hand in your resignation in the morning. “They say he cut across to State street, but I don’t believe it. He must have a confederate, but I’ll bet my chance of promotion, which isn’t much just now, that he’s right in the block where he gave me the slip. I’d rather he get off scotfree than have anyone else catch him now. I reckon they’re all gone, so I’ll go back and make a systematic search for him." )\ ith this the officer turned and walked briskly in the direction opposite the one in which he had been moving. The time was but a few minutes after the precipitation of our hero into the dark, dank collar by the trio of guilty plotters. “Ye can’t come in! This is no public house, mind that!” These words, spoken by a toothless old erone of a woman, assailed the ears of the detective as he endeavored to anter a tumble-down building not far from the spot where Cole Winters hod so cleverly eluded him. “Can’t I, Granny Green? We’ll see about that!” “But there’s nothin’ crooked a goin’ on here,” faltered the old hag, ns Hyland threw open his coat .and displayed upon his breast a silver star, the insignia of his official character. m l know that, Granny. I’m looking for

* man, though. Oat of my way, and, mind yon, not a word of my presence here; that is. if vou value " *1 won’t blab." A moment later the" detective was exploring the old building, which was tenanted by half a score of families, and presented a scene of squalor and wretchedness that the officer had never seen surpassed. Bis examination, though thorough, was rapid. He stumbled over drunken men and women who lay beside empty bottles and beer cans upon the floor, tie invaded sleeping apartments and tosse 1 about the heap; of rags which served as beds. “Find anybody?"crooned the old woman who rented" out the miserable apartments, as the officer encountered her on the ground floor. “Several things, Granny, but not the one I seek just now.” “I'm dreadful sorry. I'll open the door for you; it's got a funny kind of a catch.” “I won ttrouble you; I'm going downstairs. ” “Bless you, this is the last floor." “But you have a cellar?" “Not a sign of one." “I know better! It was in the cellar of this house that I captured one of the Cronin suspects last spring. Out of my way!” With a muttered curse the old woman complied, and Hyland was soon descending a rickety flight of stairs, toward a dark and exceedingly bad-smelling cellar. When its damp, almost slimy bottom was reached, he produced and lighted a diminutive but rather powerful darklantern, by the light of which he began an investigAion of the subterranean plaee. It was divided into a number of rooms, and had once, evidently, been used as a human habitation, though this must l*ave •been before the grading of the street had shut off the supply of light and air. Hurriedly the anxious officer ran through the place. He encountered no end of debris, but no sign of life except huge rats which scampered about. Satisfied that his quest was a vain one, he prepared to return to the upper world. Just then a peculiar sound smote his hearing. He listened intently, and upon its repetition startled visibly. “A groau!” he muttered. “There’s no doubt of it. But where?”

Once more he fruitlessly examined the moldering rooms. He was strangely puzzled and almost despairing when, for the third ’time, he heard the ominous sound. Studying the direction from whence it proceeded, he was not long in solving the mystery. In one of the rooms, behind a pile of rubbish, he discovered an opening in the stone 'wall which separated the cellar from the one next adjacent. “The work of a crook who was close pressed ” commented the detective. “It was lucky that my Cronin man didn’t find it last spring. Well, here’s for it.” Cautiously and with considerable difficulty the officer crept through the irregularly shaped opening. Once again in a standing posture he flashed his lantern about to gain some idea of the sur oundin s. He had barely discerned that he was in a long basement undivided by partitions, when he saw lying on the ground the semblance of a human form. “Cole Winters!” cried be, excitedly, a moment later, as he stood over the inanimate form of onr hero. Setting down the lantern the detective began a systematic examination of the young man. “He’s alive, and I con see no wounds or bruises to account for his condition,” mused he, perplexedly. Just then the open trap-door above him attracted his eye. “Ha! I see! In trying to escape he fell down here and is suffering from the shock. I’ll soon revive him.”

Hylnnd took out a small vial labeled ammonia, and poured a little of the pungent fluid upon his handkerch es. This he applied to the nostrils of our hero. “While I’m waiting for it to take effect I may as well search him,” decided the highly elated officer. In a moment he had discovered and drawn from one of his coat pockets a small bundle of saws and files, of the kind used by burglars. “I’ve got him dead to rights,” chuckled Hyland, immeasurably pleased at the evidence of crookedness. “I’ll bet he’s got a jimmy in his boots.” A hurried examination proved this theory to be incorrect, but it served also to reveal an object in one of Cole’s bootlegs. In a trice Hyland had drawn it from its hiding place. “Greit heavens!” he ejaculated, his hands trembling like an aspen-leaf in the wind. “The missing bonds! Ten, twenty—l believe they’re all here. Good! Capital! My promotion ” A groan interrupted him. Mat Hyland was a humane man, and the sound of suffering recalled him to his prisoner. He replaced the saws and files in Cole’s pocket,.thrust the bonds into his own, and having removed the handkerchief, laised the inanimate form in his arms. “He breathes freer,” soliloqnized the detective, “and is in no danger of dying. I want to keep this matter to myself for the present. I’ll go to the nearest drug store for restoratives. When I take him away from here it will be with a full confession and tbe names of his accomplices, for I’m sure he had one at least.” He laid Cole back upon the ground, and glided away lo the opening in the wall. Two minutes later he had gained the sidewalk and was hurrying up the street. He met with a number of provok'ng delays. The druggist was an unreasonable time in giving him the articles he impatiently demanded. At the doorway he encountered a brother officer, who for some minutes engaged him in conversation about an important matter. Lastly, a small boy ran against him, dashing the package from his hand aud breaking the inclosed bottles upon the sidewalk. By the time he had duplicated the restoratives fully half an hour had elapsed. He lost no time in returning to the dismal cellar. As he crawled through the opening in the wall, and darted forward the rays of his lantern, a cry of mingled chagrin and dismay swept his white lips. The trap-door in the floor was closed, and Cole Winters had disappeared from the place.

CHAPTER VIII.

ON THE TRAIL. When the trio of guilty and desperate men, the triangle of crime, we may say, departed from the Clark street house, leaving behind them, as they supposed, the dead body of Cole Winters, they proceeded northward towards the business section of the city. In a few minutes they entered a room on the second floor of a building, upon the door of which was the legend; ; Max Morris, • ; Private Banker, : ; Money to Loan. : “Now for tbs bonds,” said the proprie- > tor of the piaee, as he proceeded T» light |

the em« in r second and smaller room, h which stood two large safes. “Yes," added Bloom. “Let’s oast ou eyes over the plunder." “How soon can yon turn them infc cash?” asked Sears, as he drew the envelope from his pocket. “To-morrow." “Will there be any danger?" “Not the way I’ll work it. Large quan tities of these bonds are daily sold here My position and well-known respectability will prevent the slightest suspicion. I’ll have the money ready by noon to morrow.” “Good! There they are.” “Shall I examine them?” “It isn’t necessary.” “I want it done,” put in Bloom. “But we’re in a hurry. Lock ’em up in your strongest safe, Max, and we ll be off.” “I want to see ’em coanted," said the burglar, doggedly. Without more ado the banker removed the rubber band and opened the envelope. “Here we are,” said he, gayly, as he drew forth the contents. As tne reader knows, this consisted only of worthless printed papers. “Confusion!" cried Morris, while Sears made use of a mnch stronger word. As for Bloom, he said nothing. He looked from the banker to the young man, and then spraug forward and caught the latter by the throat. “Help!” wheezed the victim, as he was borne backward upon a sofa. Max Morris at once flew to his assistance, but the stiength of the two availed nothing as against burglar. “What do yon mean/” demanded the banker. “Let him go!” “I mean,” answered the enraged man, as be released Sears and rose to his feet, “that I don’t piopose to be cheated out of the honest fruit of my labor in no such way as that! I want my share, and I’ll have it, or have his life, and yours, too Max Morris, if you’re in the scheme.” “It’s no scheme,” said Sears, who was on his feet now. “I’ve been robbed." “Staff!” sneered the burglar. “Look here, Mart, we’ve been in many deals together. Didn’t I always tote fair?”

”So far as I know, yes." “Would I be fool enough to try suoh a game on you?” “Hardly,” admitted Bloom, though the scowl did not lift fiom his face. “I have it!” cried Morris. “What?” chorused the others. “We’ve noted like children. That Cole Winters is just four times as smart as we thought him.” “What is it? Do speakl” urged thd young mau, eag3rly. “You put one §5,000 bond in his pocket?” “Yes, yes." “He wasn’t satisfied with that.“ “I don’t understand ” “So he appropriated the other fifty, nine.” “ V\ hew!” “And substituted a lot of advertisements he picked up at the Exposition last night." “That’s it!” assented Sears. “And the bonds?” asked Bloom. “Are down in that cellar in one of tht deid man’s pocketß.” No one made a suggestion, but al acted ou the one common impulse. In c moment the three had quitted the office the proprietor locking the door after him At the fastest gait possible they hurried down Clark street. They found th< coast clear, nnd were soon peering dowi into the cellar, whose inky darkness hie from the eyes of the world a dark anc hideous crime. After a little they could discern the form of their victim. “Have you a ladder?” asked Morris eagerly. “There’s one in front,’’ replied Sears. “Wait a moment.” “Our good luck hasn’t deserted us,” said the latter, who was the first to descend. Have you found them?” demanded Bloom from the ladder. “No, I haven’t looked yet. But I’ve found something else.” “What’s that?” “He’s no more dead than you are.” “And his discovery here would have convicted and hung the last one of us,’ commented the banker, with a shudder. “But we’re iu time to complete the work. ’ “The bonds first,” urged the burly burglnr. This was an unnecessary suggestion. forAlmon Sears was already in the act of ransacking the pockets of the unconscious young man. “Here’s a rum go,” declared Morris, when Cole had been searched and not a vestige of the missing fortune discovered. “What do you say, Al?” “That he found them beforeour arrival, and hid them elsewhere. ’’ “I never thought of that. Let’s search for them at once.” “Not now; it’s too riskv.” “What then?” “We’ll take the young fellow away, bring him to, nnd make him locate the plunder. I’ll find a way to force it out of him.”

“Good!” cried the others, assentingly. Martin Bloom raised the form of oin hero in his powerful arms and bore him up the rude ladder as easily, to all appearances, as if be had been a child. This accomplished, the ladder was drawn up and the trap-door closed down. Sears began a search for the bonds, which he believed to be secreted somewhere in the long room, but abandoned it when the “cracksman” returned and announced that he had secured a hack, and that it was waiting outside. Bloom removed his overcoat, which be wrapped about Cole; then he raised him in his arms and followed his confederates into the street. It was beginning to rain now, and few people were in view. Anyhow, tbe taking away of a sick man, as our hero appeared to be, was neither a strange nor unusual proceeding, and attracted little attention. “Drive fast,” said .Sears, who was the last of the pnrty to enter the carriage. “Safe!” whispered the banker, as with a sigh of relief he sank back upon the cushioned seat. But he could not have been furthei from the truth. At that moment himself and guilty companions were anything but safe. From the doorway of tbe next building, which Detective Hyland was in the act oi leaving, the entire transaction bad been observable. “Three accomplices!” muttered he,“and one of them Almon Sears! I haven't lost the trail yet! Here goes!” As the driver cracked his whip and drove rapidly away the plucky detective sprang forwnrd and secured a place upon the rear axle of the large vehicle. [TO BE CONTINUED.J

On May First.

Man—Are you loaded ? Drayman—Yis, sor. Man—Then why in thunder donM you go off ?—lnter Ocean. A Wallingford (Ct.) milkman has a shepherd dog with three tails.

AGRICULTURAL TOPICS.

A FEW SUGGESTIONS FOR OUR RURAL READERS. Some Information of Value to the Farmer, 8 t«H'k -Hreedt-r, Bee-Keeper, Housewife ami Kitchen-Maid. THE FARM. Hk* ' lug llearer Grain. For twwor three years past grain has been naturally cheap. The effect has been to encourage its more extensive use, and wherever It has been fed judiciously, farmers have profited by it. Now the test of good farming is coming into the question whether with dearer grain the old-time liberality in feeding will be maintained. All dairy produce must feel the effect of dearer grain in higher prices. So also will all kinds of meats. It was the observation of John Johnston, in a long experience with winter sheep feeding, that he never lost money when grain was high-priced. At such times few were feeding, and by the time his sheep were fattened they brought enough better prices to pay the extra cost of grain and a good profit besides. But to do this Mr. Johnston always selected his sheep carefully, and gave them all the benefit of his great skill in feeding.

Keeping: Farm Accounts. Mr. J. Bennett writes to the Indiana Farmer that every person engaged in agricultural pursuits should by all means keep a regular book in which is noted down every transaction. A book is of just as much importance to the farmer as It is to the merchant, or to the man In any other class of business, for that matter. Unless we know exactly what money we have, paid out or taken in we are running on a very uncertain, haphazard kind of plan’ Mr. Bennett says he knows of a rather distressing case in point. There was a settlement of heirs a few years ago. All seemed to be settled satisfactorily. Lately, for some cause, one of the heirs is accused of owning a note of §IOO, and it was hinted that he made away with the note, though he is sure the note was paid fifteen or more years ago, and can prove it by one witness. Still, how consoling it would be if the accused could present a neat account book, with a plain and complete statement of facts. He would feel compensated for the time spent in putting down accounts for a score of years. Fanners, continues Mr. Bennett, should by all means keep a strict account of every farm transaction. To this the editor of the Farmer adds his full indorsement of Mr. Bennett’s position. It is an easy thing, he says, to jot down items ofjexpense, agreements, appointments, etc., in a pocket memorandum, and any one who has kept such a book from year to year will testify to. the fact that it pays many times over for the little time and trouble. At a leisure moment when there is nothing else to do the pocket memorandum notes may be transferred to a larger and better book for preservation through all time to coine.

Firming Hie Soil lor Wheat. A correspondent of the Indiana Farmer says most wheat growers must have noticed that where the land has been somewhat trodden after seeding they have the best yield. Let the observant farmer notice where the horses turned at the corners and where by any other means the ground gets a little more trodden than in the center of the field and there surely will be found the heavest yield and the finest wheat. One of the most successful Indiana wheat growers noticing this fact turned all his cattle into his field so soon as his land r was seeded. Of course he made choice of a dry time—lt would not have done to turn his stock on with the land soft and muddy. The animals trampling around in search of oasture pressed the ground so firm and to such good effect that the crops were double of what he had previously been able to raise. He kept this up for fifteen years, retiring worth 8100,000. A heavy roller docs good service In compacting the seed bed, but experience gives the palm to the tramping of animals. However apart from the service performed by animals we must do our part with the plow and harrow in preparing the seed bed. We must not deceive ourselves by thinking the seed bed is perfect when only the surface is smooth. There must have been deep work and thorough pulverization. After this compacting the surface Is in order, bringing the soil particles into close contact, allowing the plant roots freedom to raise the necessary moisture for their support from below by capillary action. Each particle of the soil must be distinct, although solidly compacted on the surface. But. all that compacting must be performed in a dry time or not at all. Trampling clay land when wet would convert the surface into a cement, which would not be putting it into an overly good condition for the growth of wheat.

THE DAIRY.

Winter Dairying. The man who changes his dairy from summer to one of winter milk, says John Could, in Dairy Column, has many new things to learn, and his profound wisdom in the management of the dairy in summer. has but little value to him in the production of winter milk, and the care of the milch cow in the cold months. A man who makes this change should at once become a student, an investigator, travel a new road, and one in which “ruts” form no part of the traveled way. It is a long task to change the same dairy from spring to fall calving. When wo adopted winter dairying, we sold all of the old dairy, and in October bought a dairy of “Springers” calving in October and November, and started in fresh. Ddring the previous summer, we had built a big silo, and in September we filled it to the brim with the finest, of silage. A car load of second fine shorts was purchased and put in the bins, a nice mow of clover hay was handy by and everything made snug for the winter. The stanchions were taken out of the stables, and a half box stall made six feet four inches wide, for each two cows. Neck chains were provided so to give the largest freedom of movement, consistent with safety to the herd, and plenty of sawdust, straw, etc., provided for bedding. The first fall the weather was'not to suit us, and stabling nights began by October 15, and by November 10 the cows were practically in winter quarters. After December 1 they were not turned out of their stalls pntll April 10. And thia la now our custom. The cows are

watered twice ier day in the> stalls, from an iron tank of water standing in the stable, but closely covered, and Is f<*d into dally from a deep rock well, so that an even temperature of fifty degrees Is maintained for the water, and wa; ming it does not pay so far as I can find out. The cows have a daily ration made up of fifty pounds silage, six pounds shorts, the silage and grain divided into two feeds, and three to five pounds clover hay, the latter fed at noon. The ration is varied a little according to the size and performance of the individual cow. Water is given at 10 a. m. and 4 p. m. Each cow is watered separately, and j then one knows when they have drank, | and how much, and if refusing at one time they are especially looked after later. The milking, as well as feeding, is regular, the latter always immediately after the feeding. The manger is divided off so that each cow cats her own rations, and can be added to and not stolen. A record book Is kept, giving the time of coming in, service, etc.; then at regular periods the cow is turned into a large box-stall with the bull, and the good cow may be continued in the dairy another year, and in regular season. The barn Is made warm by double boarding, and tar-paper lined. Windows are provided for in abundance, so that the cows can have a sun bath. Fresh air is provided, and things so ordered that the temperature of the stable does not fall below 45 deg'rties. On this treatment and ration, tho cows give a uniform mess from October to J une 15. Then they begin to dry off, and by August 1 are resting in the summer pasture, taking exercise and getting ready to take their places In the dairy again during October and November. I am now wholly convinced that cows stabled in such a barn as mine, warm, dry, clean, and given plenty of light and air, if tied with chain»sO as to have a certain amount of freodom of movement, that exclusive confining in stalls for eighteen or twenty weeks Is not an Injury to the cows, but a positive advantage. Mv dows are never off their feed, show no symptoms of being lame or stiffened up, and show a decided disposition to gain in flesh. The winter milker, with good June pastures, will give fully one-third more by calving in October, than if sho comes Into the dairy in April, and the needed amount of grain will not greatly exceed tho amount that should be fed to the summer milker. Such is our experience.

THE POULTRY-YARD.

The Case of I.ay Inn Hens. If you want your hens to lay give them food best calculated to furnish egg-form-ing material and gently stimulate, material to furnish lime for the shell and meat to make blood. Remember that there is a continual drain on the resources of the regular laying hen. In summer on extended runs hens will almost or entirely find their own oggnmklng material. But in winter and in confinement these must be supplied regularly. One simple rule with adult fowls is to givo them as much food as they will eat eagerly and no more. When practicable make laying hens scratch and work for their feed. Exercise conduces to prolificacy, while moping about and over-feeding results in too much fat to allow the production of a full quota of eggs. Food for laying fowls is one of the subjects considered in the poultry report of the experiment farm at Ottawa, Canada. Following are some of the directions given: In the cold weather of winter a warm mea l in tiie morning Is necessary to start and keep up a steady supply of eggs. A good plan is to throw all the waste of the kitchen, in the shape of scraps, pieces of bread, uneaten vegetables, &e., into a pot, heat up in the morning until nearly boil in a, and then mix bran, provender, shorts or whatever is most abundant or cheap on the farm into a hot mess, dusting in a small quantity of red pepper before mixing. Let the mixtun! stand for a few minutes until the meal is nearly cooked; then feed in a clean trough, with laths over it, to keep the hens from jumping in and fouling or wasting the feed in their eager anxiety. Feed only enough of tills soft stuff to barely satisfy, never enough to gorge, when a hen has had so much food that she will go into a corner and mope she has had too much, and if the over-feed-ing is continued will soon cease to lay. The laying hens are the active ones. If food is given at noon it should be oats, and scattered among the litter on the floor. This meal should be light. The last feed in the afternoon should be generous. Each hen should be sent to roost witli a full crop to carry her over the long night. Green food, in the shape of vegetables usually grows on every farm, will be relished by the layers. Cabbages, turnips or carrots are generally the most convenient. Small potatoes boiled and mixed with provender or bran is a good change for the evening meal. Some of the above named vegetables should always oe in the pens of the layers. Red clover hay, steamed, chopped and mixed with bran, and given while hot is one of the healthiest foods for the morning meal. Meat in some shape must be given at least twice a week, to furnish blood-making material. Hens fed on meat lay well. If given no meat the hens will eat their eggs and pick feathers from one another. As cold weather approaches provision must be made for keeping laying hens warm, especially at night. Hens will bear a great deal of cold in the sunshine, and will not stop laying if they roost warm. The importance of warm quarters, with good ventilation, can hardly be over-estimated. A very good arrangement for a hen house for winter, suggested by one authority in such matters, consists in making the ceiling of rails about six feet above the floor. These rails are covered with soft hay or coarse swamp hay of any kind. The roosts are placed about three feet high above the floor. —New York World.

THE APLARY.

Ants in the Apiary. In cold climates ants do little, if any, harm, but they are troublesome at the South, and California beekeepers complain of them. Scientific American recommends the following method when ants become annoying: “Buy one-half pound or more of corrosive sublimate, powder It very line and strew the same sparingly on the ground, also ih the crevices, nests and trails of the ants, and I guarantee the ants will leave your lawn and premise as quick as they have come, Corrosive sublimate is a deadly poison, and should be handled with care.” Remedies tor Dee Stings. The remedies for bee stings are as numerous as are the cures for colds. Prof. A. J. Cook advises in case a person

'l* *t»ng that he should step back a little for a moment, as the pungent odor of the venom Is likely to anger the bees and induce further stinging. By forcing a little smoke from the smoker on to the part stung the odor will be obscured. The sting should be rubbed off at once—not grasped at with the finger nails, as that crowds more poison into the wound, but rubbed off. If the pain is troublesome apply a little ammonia. The venom is an acid and is neutralized by an alkali. A thin solution of satlpetre is advised by some. Others hove used ice-cold water with good effect, while others again apply salt and soda mixed and slightly moistened to the part sttuig. Quiinby advised, when the sting was severe enough to cause blotches on the skin, camphor taken internally as well as applied externally. An important point is the removal of the sting, which, as Prof. Cook advises, should be extracted in such a way as not to force any more poison into the wound. The sting may often be scraped off with the blade of a knife, and tho part be squeezed a little to force the poison out.

THE HOUSEHOLD.

Removing a Cinder from the Eye. The proper way to get a cinder out of the eyo is to draw the upper lid down over tho lower, utilizing the lashes of tho lower as a broom, that It may sweep the surface of the former and thus get rid of the intruder. Or, gently drawing the lid away from the globe, pass a clean camel’s hair brush, or fold of a soft silk handkerchief, two or three times between them. This procedure will, in nearly all cases, suffice; when it does not, tho services of a physician are necessary. It Is a remarkable fact that a very minute body will give rise to intense pain, and even after it has been extracted, the sensation remains for an hour or more. After the Intruder is out, gently bathe tho lids every fifteen minutes in Iced water till tho feeling subsides. —Home Journal. Boxing tho Ear* mill Its Results. The following from the Kansas City Medical Record, although containing nothing now, indicates that a very common evil is attracting the attention of modieal men, and points out the possiblo result of thoughtlessly boxing a child’s ears. Parents and teachers should he informed of the danger of tills method of punishment, and that nature has provided for such applications a much more suitable region, whore there is no danger of Injuring Important structures; Wo would fain hope that, In doforenco to repeated warnings from various quarters, the Injurious practice of boxing the oars once common in schools, Is fast and surely becoming obsolete. It Is too much to say that this desirable end has yet been realized. Certainly the recent observations’of Mr. W. H. It. Stewart donut give color to tills view. In a pamphlet on Boxing tho Ears and Its Results, lately published, and Illustrated by appropriate cases, lie summarizes his own experience in the matter. He reminds us that, notwithstanding the toughness of the aural drumhead, its tense expanse will rupture only too readily under the sudden Impact of air driven Inward along the meatus, as It Is in the act of cutting; and lie shows that In one instance at least this Injury resulted from a slight, though sudden blow. Given early and skilled attention tho wound may heal very kindly; but If the beginning of tho mischief be overlooked, as It often has been, further signs of tnllummatloTi soon follow, and u deaf and suppurating tympanum is tho usual result. When chronic suppuration exists already, and It Is only too common, a random knock on the ear may result, as in a case related in tho Lancet,, in a fresh otitis, with fatal brain complications. The close connection between the ear and brain should never be forgotten, and the reflection that injury to the former organ most easily terminates In total deafness, and In suppuration, which may any day take a fatal course, should assist iu the preservation of a sometimes difficult patience.

Hints to Housokooimrs. Paint the tongues of your- fever patients with glycerine, says a physician; it will remove the sensation of thirst and discomfort felt when the organ is dry and foul. The silk underwear now so much worn should not be rubbed on the washboard, nor have soap rubbed on it, unless on specially spoiled spots. It should bo gently squeezed in the hands in a lather of tepid water. Havf. your dress bound with velvet or velveteen instead of dress braids if you would prevent your shoes from receiving the purple blemish on the instep, cuused by the rubbing of the skirts when walking. The velvet should be the narrowest line possible on the right side of theskirt. People in the country who are annoyed by files should remember that, clusters of the fragrant clover which, grows abundantly by nearly every roadside, if hung in the room and left to dry and shed its faint fragrant perfume through the air, will drive away more flies than sticky saucers of molasses and other fly traps and fly papers can ever collect.

THE KITCHEN.

Jelly Toast. Cut stale bread into neat rounds or squares; fry each slice in boiling deep fat; spread it thickly with some fruit jelly and serve very hot. Gold Feather Cake. One and a half cups sugar beaten to a cream with half a cup of butter, half a cup of cold water, two cups sifted flour, 1A teaspoons of baking powder, throe eggs. Flavor with one teaspoonful of lemon extract. Vanilla Snow. Cook one cupful of rice in a covered dish to keep it white. When nearly done, add one cupful of cream, a pinch of salt, the beaten whites of two eggs and a cupful of sugar. Flavor with vanilla. Pilo In a glass dish and dot with jelly. Servo with cream and sugar. Sugar Cake*. One cup butter, one cup sugar, four cups flour, two eggs, one teaspoonful vanilla. Cream butter and sugar, mix with the beaten eggs, add the flour and the flavoring, roll out very thin, and bake in a moderate oven, sprinkling the cake with granulated sugar just before baking. Small Cucumber Pickles. Wash and wipe 100 small cucumbers, and place them In jars. Cover them with boiling brine, strong enough to bear an egg; let stand twenty-four hours. Then take them out, wipe, place in clean jars, and cover with hot vinegar spiced with an onion, twelve whole cloves, one ounce of mustard seed and three blades of mace. They will ba ready to use in two weeks.