Democratic Sentinel, Volume 15, Number 13, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 17 April 1891 — Page 5

CHUB.

A Romm of W Virginia.

BY DAVID LOWRY.

CHAPTER IV—Continued. A hush fell-over the crowd. “Will you jump again, Mr. Sloan?” Sloan turned on Bash angrily. “How high can you jump?” “Standing or running?” “Standin’.” For answer Bash put his right hand up to his chin. “I don’t believe it.” “Put a stick up, a string, rail—anything,” said Bash, coolly. Perkins and Sloan held a rail about four feet off the ground. Bash turned his back to it and jumped over it The big man clapped his hands. They placed the rail as high as his chin. He stood before it, then suddenly bounded high in the air over it The big man roared with laughter. “Now, Mr. Sloan,” said Bash, “you try it. ” Sloan jumped three times, but failed to come within three inches of the height Bash jumped. “How high can you kick?” demanded Sloan. “At least seven feet. ” Sloan had Perkins hold a stick against a tree just that distance from the ground, stood under it, sprang up and struck the stick with his right foot. Bash had Perkins raise the stick half an inch, rose the same way, and kicked the stick high in the air. Sloan tried again, half an inch higher, then an inch, until he put the stick up to eight feet six Inches. Then Dan Bash asked the big man to stand on a plow and hold the stick one foot higher. Sloan and Perkins laughed. Bash rose in the air suddenly, springing off his left foot, and his right sent the stick whirling. “Put it three inches higher,” as the crowd looked on dumfounded. What sort of a man was this, anyhow? “No, that’ll do,” said the jolly giant, laughing, “we don’t want you to kick the light out of the moon.” . *- • Whereat there was a roar of laughter. “How do you ras’le?” said Si Perkins suddenly. “Any way—upper or lower holds—-catch-as-ratch-can—any way that you prefer. ” “I used to ras’le a little.” “I like it—with any ofie who understands it ” “Well, strip then.” “Not if you don't want to tear my clothes. They went at it, catch-as-catch-can. In five seconds—less time—the “boss ras’ler of the county” was on the flat of his back. That made Si Sloan laugh, while Perkins was furious. “Anythin’ else you can’t do?” asked the jolly giant, good-humoredly. “1 can spar. ” “You mean box?” ! “I piss’’Said the giajht. Then there' ■was another shout of laughter. “Perkins will box with you.” “No, durned if I will,” said Perkins, now laughing. “He might out-box me. I think Bill Peters might give him a trial.” There was another shout of laughter. Bill Peters’ head was hanging low enough now. “I reckon you’ll have to give Bash the school,” said the big man. . “Of course,” said Sloan. “Any man’ that can do what he does—durned if I i know how he does it—can take the 1 school, ” - • ~s<“I’es, he's got a right to it,” said Perkins. “Stranger, how much do you weigh, jest as you are?” “One hundred and seventy-nine pounds,” said Bash, smilingly. “Great Jehosaphat, Sloan! Just feel of his arms and legs.” Sloan felt; then he stood back. “Mr. Bash, you’re the biggest man of your size I ever seed. Shake. ” Then Bash shook hands all around. The last man to hold his hand was the big man, who shook his hand cordially. .“I would like to know your name, sir.” “My name? Lord! Everybody knows Hank Dawson!” “Hank Dawson!” “Yes; I’m the blacksmith at the Corners. ” So this man whom he had taken a sudden liking to, and whose very smile inspired confidence, was Chub's father. CHAPTER V. CHUB DAWSON'S ENGAGEMENT. “I would like to get better acquainted with you, Mr. Dawson,” said Bash, as they stood a little apart, while many of the crowd looking at them marveled at the strength and suppleness of the newcomer in the mountain -district “You’re welcome to my house. Everybody is,” said Hank Dawson. “Then I am included among i he crowd. ” “Yes. Though we’ll be more like friends, if you are as square as you look.” The blacksmith looked him all over. “But you are the most deceivin' man I’ve met. Where did you learn it? Travel with a circus?” Bash laughed. “No? I’ll swon I don't see where else you picked it up. Do you know, you’ve outjumped and outras’led the best men in the county—you have, Bash.” Dawson chuckled. It was fun for Dawson. ’‘There’s one thing I can’t do.” “What’s that?” “I can’t lift half as much as you, nor hit as hard.” Dawson laughed. “I don’t know about that If I wanted to wallop an apprentice I wouldn’t hire you.” The crowd soon separated after that, and every man there told such stories of the prowess of the new teacher that their acquaintances promptly called them liars. But there were many who had reason to believe the stories told. And when Dan Bash entered the school there was not a scholar there who questioneo his right to rule them. The school was very orderly and obedient for the first time since it had been been opened.

The young men did not care to tackle a teacher who could kick nine feet nine inches high with one foot, nor did they <*are to wrestle with the man that laid Hi Perkins on his back. The Monks did not go to schoo’. They were bent upon driving Dan Bash out of the district. They plainly foresaw his permanent residence, and success there meant loss of prestige to them sooner or later. If he should become popular, their popularity with the roughest portion of the community would be a thing of the past They must get rid of Dan Bash somehow. But how? That was what bothered the Monk brothers aud the men who followed them. At first they seriously thought of breaking up the school Bill Monk very soon discovered that plan wouldn’t work. Bad as the county was, the people wouldn’t like to be pointed out as the most reprehensible people in the State. “It would not do to get all the decent people down on them,” Bill Monk said, to which Ned Monk sorrowfully assented. “Same time, Bill” said Ned, “'won’t do to have people talking about this efiap so much. Tell you what —let’s tell he’s not so much to brag of, or a feller that can do .so much, and knows so awful much as Dan Bash does, wouldn’t be foolin’ in his time teachin’ school way up here. ” “That’s a blame good idea,” said Bill Monk. “We’ll work it for all it's worth. Blamed if I think he is straight. He’s i likely got powerful reasons for coming up here.” So that it seemed to the Monks quite clear now that, if they managed it right, they would “give Dan Bash a heap of bother before long. ” Meantime Dan Bash was making friends every day. There was a good deal of speculation concerning the young man whom nobody knew anything about, further than he chose to tell. And he said very little. He had reasons to keep his own counsel, he thought. At least ho kept his affairs to himself. If there was anybody more than another who knew who and what Dan Bash was. people said it was Hank Dawson. The schoolteacher was a frequent visitor at the blacksmith’s. It was pretty well known, too, why he went there. Chub Dawson’s beauty and high spirit was as well known —as widely known—as her father's smithy and great strength, for Hank Dawson was a giant in strength. He had lifted one flourbarrel and set it on top of its fellow, and a thixd on tqp of the second, something unheard of, As the giant of the Corners sat beside his fire, smoking and listening to Dan Bash relating his pranks at college— Which Dan did some time for Hank’s diversion—he would laugh heartily. “There ain’t many young chaps like that,” he would say to his only daughter, Chub, when Bash went away. One evening, after Dan Bash bade them good-night, Chub leaned over he> father s shoulders and stroked his hair softly, as she said: “You seem to think a good deal of Dan Bash, dad.” “Well, a sort of way—yes. He’s a mighty knowing chap.” “And he seems to be square out and out. ” “Yes; he does.” “And he’s lively company?” “Powerful lively.” Hank Dawson's mouth was drawn down now. He was resolved his daughter should lead the talking. “Dad!”. “Well?” “Dan Bash has asked me. ” “Hel.lo! Hello!” Hank Dawson knew very well what was in the air. He had good eyesight. “You don’t mind, dad.” “Yes I do. Ain’t it my business?” “Yes. Of course it is. And I told htm'H.was. And he knows unless you"' Hke him it’s no use his coinin’ ’round any “Chub,” said Hank Dawson, “you’re the best girl from here to the forks of the road. He’s a blamed handsome fellow. I don’t know nothing about him more than just what he tells us; but I like him, and if he can satisfy you and me—why, then, that's all there’s to be said. You’ll set the day, and we’ll marry you to him. I don’t count on giving you up—l won’t do that. ” “No, dad. I told him I wouldn't leave you, for you’ve been father and mother to me. Besides, there's a way for all of us here. That's settled on. ” “I knew it. Chub.” “Of course you did. I’d like to see the man who would take me away from you. You’ve got to have your pipe and sit by the fire, or it wouldn’t be like home to me. ” “That’s just like you, Chub —just like you.” There were tears in Hank Dawson’s eyes, but he wiped them away furtively and Chub did not see them. So it was soon known to every one that Dan Bash was going to marry Chub Dawson, the blacksmith’s daughter. Mr. Potts stood on the porch telling it to all the travelers as the latest news; his wife, not content with assisting her husband at the tavern, went around ataiong the neighbors relating all and much more than she knew concerning the preparations for the wedding. Hank Dawson was going into the town to buy her a new silk dress—a blue silk dress, and a white bonnet and white veil. Chub was going with him, of course—“how could Hank Dick things for a gal?” It was true. For some reason Dan Bash had been very anxious to get the wedding over. Chub wanted more time —she was determined not to be married so soon—but Dan Bash was an ardent lover. He pressed her so that she consented to marry him in a month. The engagement enraged the Monks. The marriage must be prevented at all hazards. With such an ally as Hank Dawson, the power of the Monks would soon be a thing of the past. Two such men as Baah and Dawson would rule the county—or so much of it as was useful to the Monks. “They'll never marry," said Ned Monk. “I won’t say they mayn’t marry,” said Bill Monk, meaningly; “but if they do— I say If —they won't live together very long. ” This speech was rounded with a terrible oath. Squatty, who was present, looked at Bill Monk fearfully. He had a horror of the schoolmaster ever since he had heard that he could kick nearly ten feet high, and tumbled Hi Perkins on his back. “It's mighty ticklish business ” The Monk brothers looked at Squatty contemptuously. “You'll find it much more ticklish if

this chap and Hank Dawson discover what they're bound to learn soon. ” “You don’t think—tain’t sure they’ll know. • “Ain’t it?” “No, of course not. ” As the brothers laughed, Squatty shivered. He was afraid of his shadow at times. And they had compelled him to help them in all their villainous enterprises. “What makes you two laugh?” “You poor fool!” said Bill Monk, “don’t you know there’s detectives on the hunt? We haven’t been buyin’ horses, ’n guns, ’n powder—hats, ’n gloves, ’n all sorts o’ traps —without people knowin’ it. We don’t steal all we’ve got It’s natrel we’ll be suspected, and when we are brot up for’t we want to get a mighty cute lawyer. First time’s nothin’. We can swear and lie through, unless we’re fooled by our lawyer. But if this chap aud Hank Dawson pull together, and Dawson finds out the lay of the land ” “What do you mean by the lay of the land?” Squatty asked. “Why, can’t you see? Chub will tell her father —if he don’t know it now—all that happened on the road, and before we reached the spring that day Bash fought us.” Bill Monk spoke seriously now. “They’re bound to side against us, just as we’re bound to go agin Bash an’ agin Dawson, too, if we can’t get Bash out of the way somehow.” Ned Monk frowned as he spoke to Squatty. “Say, when does the weddin’ come off?” Squatty inquired suddenly. “Two weeks from to-morrow—sure as fate. Chub and her dad has told everybody, and so has Dan Bash. ” “Suppose something should prevent Bash from going to his own wedding?” The Monks looked at Squatty curiously. “It would be bad if he didn't go to his own wedding; it would be better if he couldn’t go to anybody’s wedding never again,” said Ned Monk. “Yes. ” “Tell us what you would do to prevent it, Squatty.” Squatty looked around him nervously. Then he spoke in a lower tone. The Monks listened attentively. Then they slapped their poor tool on the shoulder. “Bully for you, Squatty! That’s a prime idea. We’ll carry it out as sure as you are a sinner. And, Squatty, you’ll get all the credit of the plan.” Then the Monk brothers laughed again. Squatty shivered. “You won't put it all on me,” he whined. “Pooh! We’re all in for it, Squatty. It's everybody’s business now. If one goes we’ll all go, so you needn’t be afraid. If they catch you you’ll have plenty of company. ” , CHAPTER VI. Chub and her father verified all the rumors by inviting their friends to the wedding. Then they went to the nearest town to buy her wedding dress and such appointments as Dawson was determined his daughter should have. “I’ve got plenty of money,” he said to his friends. “I’ve earned it for Chub, and she's bound to have the best.” That was sufficient. Everybody applauded Hank Dawson’s decision. It was politic to do so. Hank was inviting a crowd to the wedding. There would be abundance to eat and drink—fiddlers for a hundred, fun for everybody. And everybody wanted to be “on hand” at Chub’s wedding. Chub’s wedding was the talk of the country for miles around. It was an extraordinary event. She was the prettiest girl in that region. She was the smartest and the most spirited. She was the best cook and the best shot. She could manage the jnost unruly horse, and men had stood in not a little awe of her. She had hosts of admirers, and it was never known thajt_any one had been so coufageduAas to askner to marry him. Above all, she would have more ftoney than any girl in the entire district. Hank Dawson had ever so much money in bank, had inherited a fortune from a brother who died in a distant city, and was able to point to three fine farms within sight of his own home. And all would go to Chub when Hank Dawson died. course, now that the marriage was approaching, Dan Bash was congratulated daily. His good fortune was remarked. To the surprise of all, Dan Bash took the compliments as a matter of course. He did not think he was bound to be grateful to Hank Dawson, and he plainly intimated as much when occasion seemed to demand the expression of his independence. “I am to be envied for securing one of the best women in the world,” he said more than once. “In my opinion, Belle Dawson is the equal of any woman in the State. ” That was the manner in which he referred to the woman he was going to marry. He seemed to think he was the equal of any man or woman; he did not assume superiority, but it was quite a matter of course that the prettiest and richest and cleverest girl in the county should be willing to marry him. [to be continued.]

He Doesn't Like It.

. Bill Nye, in his meanderings, has had occasion to enter a sleeping car in the early hpurs of morning, and he tells us softly that there is a difference between the fresh outside country air and the stifling and frequently used air of one of those cars into which a score of miscellaneous sleepers have all night exhaled their physical nastiness. He says: “Did you ever, oh, dove-eyed reader, with the delicately chiseled GriecoBoman nose, and also delicately chiseled pocketbook, enter a sleeping car just as it was waking up? Didst ever ramble up and down a meadowy brook at early dawn, crushing the heather, and the sweet fern, and the bullfrog, for an hour, and then, flushed with success, unjoint your rod and, with the dew and the daisies clinging to your high boots, catch an early train and step quickly into the great Snore Works of a through car? Did you ever wring the rough, warm hand of Uncle Eben at the way station at 5 o’clock a. m.. and with the melaory of tansy and timothy and mignonette and fresh fried cakes and cherry blossoms, blunder hurriedly, while your eyes were a little moist from the parting, into the funky aisle of the sleeping catacombs, where you would think Gabriel could hardly get a bugleful of fresh air ?”

HOME AND THE FARM.

A DEPARTMENT MADE UP FOR OUR RURAL FRIENDS. Some Appliances ibr the FarmerWell Selected Suggestions for the Housewife. the Stockman, the Dairyman, the Poulterer, and the Horticulturist—Notes. THE FARM. Painting Farm Hulidings.

EVEN the win .» a good time for the farmer to paint his own buildings. Much of this work “v can be done by \ the ordinary in- \ telligent help of . \ the farm, and if hired by the year, I fas farm help i L should be, the cost will be much vWZt less than if the 7=3* job were let out to « a profess io n al. gg* It requires a little Br practice to draw window sashes neatly, but a neat J person will soon

learn. In extreme cold weather, paint the cold sides of a building in the middle of mild days and the sunny sides can be painted at any time. If the preservation of the wood is the main object, use plenty of oil, but if appearance is of importance there must be lead or other material enough to give a “body” that will cover well. For a good residence we would use only good material, but Tor rough outbuildings something cheaper will answer. Mr. J. J. Thomas, of Union Springs, N. Y., says a writer in an exchange, is a strong advocate of crude petroleum for saturating the covering of all farm buildings, including the shingles on the roof. He would apply it liberally in two or three coats, and afterwards paint with lead and oil for the looks. Professor Knapp, of the Agricultural College, experimented with petroleum and linseed oil in the proportion of three parts of the former to one of the latter, with the cheap mineral paints for the body, and finds it not only very cheap, but durable and otherwise satisfactory. The tendency of the petroleum is to penetrate the grain of the wood and thus give no room for water to soak in, while the linseed oil and mineral paints form a body that covers the surface and gives a uniform color. Lime wash, so often recommended for out buildings, is a very good fair weather paint, but it is almost worthless for keeping put water, besides a building covered with it always looks badly whenever it is wet. As cheap as oils are now, it is far better to use some kind of oil for painting any outside work that is worth painting at all. And while about it, the farm wagons and carts ought to have one or two good coats of paint spread over them during the winter. In still weather, carriages may be painted in the open air, though a good, clean, airy room that can be kept free from dust is to be preferred. It is good economy to use paint freely and often and there is no better time to use it than during the cold half of the year.—Farmers’ Review. Rolling in Stall Prevented. Some time ago I noticed a half humorous account of the experience of two elderly ladies in buying a horse which had the bad habit of rolling in its stall. Invariably when the horse attempts this he gets “cast.” Having had some experience with an animal so inclined, and having successfully solved the question how to prevent the occurrence, I will explain my plan.

Properly to use the device requires a stout halter with a metal ring securely fastened to the top directly between the animal’s ears. A stout leather strap is firmly fustened overhead, so that it will hang about where the head of the animal would be when lying down. To the end of the strap a good snap is fixed. The strap should be put long enough to allow the horse’s nose to touch the floor when the snap is hooked in the ring on the top of the halter. With this arrangement the animal can lie down comfortably but cannot lay its head on the floor, and consequently cannot well get cast This tie was originated through necessity. It may not be new but I have yet to meet the person who ever used it. I have imparted the knowledge to many, but think it has never been published. It invariably cures a horse of rolling.— Eugene Starkweather, in Countru Gentleman. THE OKCHAKD, A Good Tree Wash. Randolph Peters, a successful nurseryman gives the following which is based on practical experience: Take stone lime, slack and prepare it as for an ordinary whitewash, in an old barrel or box. Take enough at a time to make a bucket two-thirds full of the proper consistency for ordinary whitewashing. Now add one pint of gas tar, one pouud of whale oil soap dissolved in hot water, or (one pound of potash, or strong lye from wood ashes,) then add clay or loam enough to make the bucket full of wash of proper thickness to be applied with a white-wash brush. If the trees have had the earth ridged up around them, take the earth from around the collar and the wash to the body of the trees from the limbs to the ground or down to the roots. Its advantages are, first. It will destroy the bark louse, and give the trees a bright, clean, and healthy appearance. Second. This wash will drive all borers that may be in the trees and the moth will not deposit eggs on or about the trees the same season the wash is used. All who grow apple, peach, dwarf pear, quince and ash trees, should use this wash; don’t Tail to use it because not patented and sold at a high price. I have known cases where peach trees have been badly affected by the borer; they have all left and the trees become

healthy and vigorous with Jone application of this wash. Again, mice and rabbits will not girdle trees where this wash is used. Apply in May for borers and general benefit to the trees, and in late autumn as a preventative against mice and rabbits. Use this wash annually. Gas tar applied pure will kill trees. Twin Apple*. A remarkable geminate ~om the Lowell apple, otherwise known in Western North Carolina as the Golden Pippin, is illustrated in our engraving, the drawing was made from an apple sent us by Mr. P. J. Berckmans, President of the American Pomological Society, who found it in an orchard in Western North

GEMINATE LOWELL APPLE.

Carolina. The owner of the tree stated that one particular tree invariably produces this form while his other trees of the same variety never do. They were all grafted years ago and at the same time. Just why this particular tree should produce double, or geminate, fruit it would be hard to decide; but a course of experiments might be undertaken with the possible result of producing a new sort of apple, double the size of the Lowell, but reiainingits flavor and good qualities. The exact organ of the Lowell apple is unknown. The tree is hardy, vigorous, spreading and very productive. The flesh is yellowish white, with a brisk, rich, rather acid flavor. It is of large size, roundish oval or conic, and bright waxen yellow. The basin is deep, abrupt and furrowed; stalk of medium length and calyx closed, all of which features are combined in the subject of our illustration, true to kind except only in being geminate.— American Agriculturist. The Striped Bug. Every gardener knows that this is a most destructive insect among melon, cucumber, and other young vines, sometimes damaging the crop seriously. Mahy remedies have been suggested, some of them no doubt good in their way, but troublesome. Now, we have tried for several years another which has proved with us a complete success. Instead of aiming to drive away the insect by soot, ashes, etc,., we pet it, or rather furnish It with food better than the young melon and cucumber plants. We sow around each hill at the time of each planting a. Lew radish seed, and coming up about the same time, the tops supply pasture for the bug, which It much prefers to the vices. Lettuce will also answer, but the radish Is rather liked the best. While our vinos are untouched by making this little provision for it the young radish tops are completely perforated. Should this fail, which Is seldom the case—and has never been with us—sprinkle the vines with a solution of whale oil soap and water. No other insect but the curculio can stand this. Where this preparation is not attainable, a weak solution of carbolic disinfectant soap will answer as well.— Oermantouni Telegraph.

THE GAKDES. Seasonable Hints. ' jne cause of failure to secure blooms is Injudicious watering, deluging at one time and with-holding at another, and paying no attention to the needs of the different varieties. The appetites and needs of plants are as varied as those of people, and their temperaments differ, too; there are the sanguine, the sensitive, the phlegmatic, each requiring to be dealt with accordingly. While one plant will thrive, notwithstanding the utmost neglect, and subsist on almost nothing, another must have nourishing food and warm drink. It Is a good plan to adapt the water to the temperature of the room,and always be quite sure that the drainage is good. Often a plant will droop and look sickly, when, If the matter is looked into, it will be found that water stands in the bottom of the Jar. A bent wire Is always useful in this case, for by penetrating the holes at the base of the pot, and stirring the earth, passages will be made for the escape of stagnant water and gas. Then water freely, being sure that the water runs through quickly; drain all off, loosen the soil at top of the Jar, and withhold moisture until the plant is again healthy. The calla, as is well known, requires plenty of quite warm water; In a double Jar boiling water may be used hi the lower Jar, and will wonderfully hasten growth and blossoms. Fuchsias are thirsty plants, especially when in flower, and moisture is necessary to the Chinese primrose. The majority of plants require a weekly bath; In fact, nothing so invigorates them as a shower bath of tepid water. Those which cannot be removed readily for the showering may have their leaves sponged.

A correspondent gives the following easy and effective way of checking the injuries caused byjthe red spider: First, shower the plant all over with dry insect powder—don’t be afraid of putting on too much. Let it remain about twenty-four hours. Second, plunge the plant, pot, earth and all. in a tub of water, and let it remain over night; in the morning, gently wash the plant while under water, lift it and set it in the sunshine to dry. The water needs to be of a temperature a little tepid, or the plant will be chilled. The fingers can be run through the leaves while under water without any injury. The plant may lose a few leaves in the process, and these chiefly because of the previous Injury done to them by the spider; but'l have removed the spider utterly by one application of this treat-! ment, even when they were very numerous, and had the plants rather improved by their bath than otherwise. As for the flat, white mealy bug that damages all plants that he visits, I have found no means for removing him, excepting to rub him out of existence with | a small damp brush. Those two are the worst of all enemies to house plants. In arranging for the winter garden let us decide which plant shall be most honored, which shall have the best corner in the conservatory. Perhaps the calla, for with plenty of light it will grow more symmetrical, and its upright, stately beauty, and. under right treatment, its free offering of fair white blossoms, makes it justly the queen of the winter flowers. Possibly the conservatory opens from the sitting-room, with an arched entrance around which

vines may be trained. There are so many vines well suited for this purpose that it is a mere matter of fancy which to select The German ivy is most rapid in growth, and the variety Macroglossus, with dark, rich foliage, resembing the English ivy, is beautiful, though not so quick in growing as Scandens, the light-leaved variety. The most satisfactory vine I ever cultivated indoors was the coboca. It had attained a fair growth on the piazza during the summer, and in the fall the branches were taken down carefnlly, the large pot carried to the conservatory and placed just outside the entrance, while the vine was trained around the room opening from the conservatory. The vine grew luxuriantly, and gave a profusion of rich purple bells. The next spsing it was placed out of doors, and grew well, blooming indoors the second winter, when It died, seemingly from exhaustion. Madeira vine and smilax are among the easily cared for and rapidly growing vines; and maurandia is always graceful and desirable. But the very prettiest vino on the whole list is asparagus tenuissimus; the delicacy of its foliage, its bright, cheerful green and perfect freedom from insect pests leave nothing to be desired. Then it is invaluable, with its dainty, feathery sprays, for bouquet making and decorative purposes, especially as it keeps its beauty a long time when cut. — Vick’s Magazine.

THE HOLSEUOLD.

The Part of Prudence. People with weak lungs should keep the back, between the shoulder blades, well protected, as well as the chest. They should endeavor to establish the habit of breathing through the noso when sleeping and never witii the mouth open. They should never lean with the back against anything cold; should not sit or stand long near a window in cold weather. In going from a warm atmosphere into a cooler one the mouth should be kept closed, so the air may become warmed in passing through the nostrils before it reaches the lungs. The foot should bo kept dry, and the skin maintained in an active condition by regular bathing. Photograph Holder. This holder Is made with two strips of ribbon, each about half the width of a cabinet photograph.

CABINET PHOTOGRAPH HOLDER.

The rings are the brass rings covered with silk. The cut shows the arrangement. The row upon the edge fixes the thickness of the holder when filled with photographs; while upon the other edge small ribbons Join the rings upon the back to those in front, as both sides are alike. The colors of ribbon and silk rings may bo the same, oi contrasting colors that harmonize well. Hint* lor Nur***. Hot food and drink for the sick should! be hot —not lukewarm. The rooms of fever patients may be well ventilated with less fear of their taking cold than in other diseases. Do not use damp towels about the sick. Let clean clothing for a patient bo thoroughly aired and warmed at the tiro Just before putting it on. Hint* to Housekeeper*. To remove Hine from an Iron pot wash in strong vinegar.

THE APIARY.

Extruded Honey a* an Article of Food. In a prize essay written for the Amertr can Bee Journal, by A. N. Clark, upon extracted honey, are these words: To obtain the best quality, extract from clean combs, from the supers, and not from the brood-chamber. If possible, avoid extracting from combs containing pollen in the bottom of the cells, as such pollen-charged honey has a disagreeable flavor. Keep the combs elean at all times of the year. See that the extractor and all other metal receptacles are free from soluable rust. In short, the utmost cleanliness is required from the time the combs are removed from the hives, until the honey is in the hands of the consumer. As regards ripening, basswood honey may be extracted before the cells are completely capped, If immediately placed; in a hot, airy room. By this method of evaporation it loses some of its strong,, and. to many, disagreeable flavor. But white clover, which is deficient in flavor-ing-matter at its best, should not be removed from the hive until thoroughly ripened; and unless the apiarist has tho best of facilities for evaporating’honey, he had better leave all honey, even passwood, to be ripened in the hive. Annually, the quality of hundreds of tons of honey is ruined by improper storage. If a dry, warm room cannot be obtained, it should, on the day it is extracted, be placed In barrels or caua and sealed air-tight. In using barrels, avoid whisky barrels, as they are usually charred inside, and the crystallzed honey cannot be removed without disturbing particles of charcoal. Pino barrels or pails are objectionable, unless waxed, as they impart a piney flavor. New oak-staves are subject to similar objection; but when> these barrels have contained alcohoi,they no longer impart a woody flavor to the honey. Alcohol being a powerful solvent, it has dissolved out of the staves the free tannic acid, leaving the barrel in the best possible condition for a honeyreceptacle. In most localities the best receptacles for home trade arc those of tin, well labeled, holding from one to twelve pounds. When put in glass, the honey should tte> treated and sealed while hot, thus preserving the liquid form longer than whom put up cold. With glass vessels, smalk labels should be used, as clear, bright,, liquid honey is more attractive than anyv printed label. I The apiarist should encourage the us«a of crystalized honey for two reasons. First, it is more convenient to handle;, seqond, it proves its freedom from commercial glucose —the only adulterant, that could possibly be used a' present, prices. , Yet, in spite of the fact tn tt honey - sells for less than sugar, if an apiarist. usca sugar for winter stores, it will hurt, his home market, no matter who he is, or who his customers are. Not only? must the apiarist be honest in everything, but in many cases he must bo, more than honest.