Democratic Sentinel, Volume 15, Number 36, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 25 September 1891 — Page 5

DOUBLE DICK AND JOE; The Poorhouse Waifs.

BY DAVID LOWRY.

CHAPTSB XXL JOS MEKTS SB. PBATTT AGAIN. At half past ten Monsieur Bufaur's . bell rang. •Seel it Is Mister Brown—or that boy 1* said Madame Dufaur. “I know it! —I feel it * l Monsieur Dufaur ushered the clown, ’ his cheesy wife, and Dick into the room a minute later. Mrs. Brown was quick to perceive something was amiss. •Are you not well, Madame Dufaur?* , she said. •Ol Monsieur must tell you—l can- 1 not” •It is a very strange affair,” said Mon- I sieur Dufaur. •Incomprehensible,” said Madame. ,< •Inexplicable,” added her husband QtPtfrnfully •It is poor Joe —the child has disappeared." “Whats” exclaimed Dick. “Joe lost!" “Since—it will be three hours since she went out,” said Madame Dufaur. “And which way did you send her?" asked the clown, with a serious face. “Ol ’twas but a little ways—only five ! minutes’ walk. She has often returned j In fifteen minutes —yes, less time. * There was a profound silence. Then the down spoke. “Whatever is done must be done quickly. ” “What can I do? Tell me I will do anything,” said Monsieur Dufaur, holding out his hands. “You—we must go to the police.” “I have been to see the police—l have told all—have described the girl. • “Well —did you tell them to exert themselves to their utmost’” “I have said to them: ‘Spare no paint, spare no means; I will pay liberally.’ What more can k I do? Yes, I can advertise In the papers. Them I am done I can do no more. ” “l ean,” said Dick, decisively. They looked at ldn). “Eh? You! What can you do?" Monsieur Dufaur looked down'on him with'ajpok of wonder. •I will go round and ask all the boys In the streets about here, and in the stores. Til ask the poHeemad on this square I’ll keep asking till I find something. ” “I guess you are right, Double Diek, ” •aid the clown. “That’s business with a big B. But I can’t help any, I’m afraid However, I’ll see you can have plenty of time” “It is a dificult task,” said Monsieur, •still it is better than doing nothing. I am glad someone can do it. As for me, I can employ a detective I did not think of that ” •That is business, too,” said the clown. Ben Brown hid formed a plan he resolved to pursue on his own account, but he said nothing. So they separated eadly, Madame Dufaur grieving that she had permitted Joe to go oat alone after dark, Monsieur Dufaur to employ a detective Immediately, Dick to inquire ol all the boys he encountered residing near at hand, while Ben went away to consult a friend whom he thought would assist in the search. Meanwhile I will relate what befell Joe that evening. Joe had performed the errand required of her and was returning home, when she was accosted by a poor woman who begged permission “just to speak to her. ” The woman looked so wretched that Joe’s heart was touched. “There is a little money—l’m so sorry I can’t give you any more. ” “O! thank you—but if anybody would come and see my sick child —if anybody would do something for her. ” “Is it a girl?” “Just like you, miss.” “Where do you live?” “Just in here below—in a cellar." “In a cellar!” “Yes, and awful bad It is. ” Joe was distressed, “I can’t do anything. ” “No! but you might send some one—•fter I’ve took you to see. ” “I’ll go with you—now, but I can’t stay a minute.” Thus it was that poor Joe’s sympathies were played upon. The poor woman was employed simply to snare the girl. Poor Joe walked with both eyes wide open into the trap. There are many such traps in all our large cities. ' ' “Why, you said it was just here?” “We’ll be there directly; here we are now, miss." ■ The woman entered a dark passage; the next instant Joe felt a pair of hands around her mouth and throat, while a voice whispered in her ear: “Kefep quiet, orT’ll murder you; try to scream or run, and it will be your last move:" But, notwithstanding this horrible threat, Joe struggled, freed herself, and opened her mouth to cry for helpi, when she received a blow that deprived her of consciousness. When she regained consciousness she heard a man’s voice, saying: “I had to do it; she’a brought someone down on us in a second. She’s not hurt any. I didn’t hurt her; just stunned her a trifle. It’ll teach her a lesson.” “Yes; but if you hurt her Jenks will make a row, and you know it. You’d better ’less up, and don’t bring me in it ” “You’re awfully afraid of Jenks; I’m not” “Yes, you are, for all you blow so much.” There was more said, but Joe did not hear it The voices were lowered. Evidently the speakers had discovered that she was conscious. The name Jenks somehow impressed her. Who was Jenks? Why were they afraid of Jenks? What was he like? Was it to please him, she was brought there? These and other auestions pawed rapidly through Joe’s troubled brain as she lay with her eyes closed, listening intently. So the young man’s warning was based on good grounds. Somebody was seeking to Injure her, -and it wasn’t Mr. Caper, either. Oh, if she had only listened to that young Mr. Pratty! What would Monsieur and Madame Dufaur think? What would they do? They might think she Was an ingrate, and ran away the first opportunity that presented. They might think she was

pitying a part ill tills time. Bui, tod! Surely— surely Manama Dufaur would credit her With more honesty! “Poor Joel Little did she dream of the commotion her absence caused in the domicile of the Duf aura “Hello! You’re not asle'ep?” It was a harsh, coarse voice that addressed her, as a hand was placed on her shoulder. Joe sprang upright as she said, with flashing eyes: “How dare youl Not I’m very wide-awake now. And you'd better be careful how you treat me, because I've frbnds." “Friends, have yer!" “Yes; friends wh) are able to punish people who ill-use me." “Who’s ill-using you?" “None o’ that now. You let tbo girl be; mind what I told you, or you’ll wish you had ” “Well—but 1 don’t want her chlnufn’ mel” Then a young man, with a sleek face and a manner that made Joe recoil, he was so snaky and sneaking, approached her, and In a low voice, designed to reassure her, said: “Don't you be afraid, miss; this Is a respectable house —we’re the most respectable folks in the city. We wouldn't hurt a hair o’ yer head. No, bless you, not for the world. ” Joo felt precisely as yon hevt felt when your hand came in contact with a toad. She drew back (she was reclining in a broken rocking-chair) and looked fearfully at the oily speaker. “Do—do go away. If you don’t mean harm, what did you bring me here for—let me go home." “Well, we will by and by. You see—mind, I’m your friend —your true friend —this is a matter I’m not allowed to mix in. Same time I’ll see no harm comes to you." There was a sound in the adjoining room Joe recognized quickly—a clinking of glasses. She listened Intently, but she did not distinguish any of the voices she heard in the next room. Suddenly the two men left her, and a min ute later a sac face Joe recognized in the darkness —looked In at her. It was the face of Mr. Pratty, the young man who had warned her of danger. Would he recognize her? The face came nearer—then Mr. Pratty spoke. “It isn’t—it cannot be the young lady I met at ” “At Monsieur Dufaur’s —it is. O, take me away at ouce!" Joe exclaimed. “Sh!” exclaimed Mr. Pratty. “Shi I must see that we are not observed." Mr. Jenks, alias Pratty, put a hand to his head thoughtfully, after the manner of actors in melo dramas, and leaned toward Joe. “I never was so surprised in all my life—never!"

CHAPTER XXII. TUB LAW CLBBK'S BOLD SOHBM*. Mr. Pratty advanced and spoke In a whisper. “How came you here—who brought you here?" There was a clinking of tumblers, and under cover of the noise Joe said in a rapid speech: “I don’t know—they hit me and stunned me—l don’t know who, but I know their face* They were here a moment ago." “You are sure?” “They just went out." “Then they must be in the next room.” Mr. Pratty put a hand over bis mouth, and leaning in a dramatic manner toward the door, to which one thumb pointed, he jerked the thumb significantly. Joe nodded quickly. “Humph? Well, it’s lucky I came In here. I never am here—except on business. I’m a lawyer’s clerk (he didn’t say he was his uncle’s), and I’ve got to go around hunting up witnesses in all kinds of p’aces. This” —lowering his voice—“is a terrible place—for a young lady. Terrible.” “Can’t you tell the police, or tell my friends, and they’ll soon get me away—yes, and Monsieur Dufaur will punish them for it. They’ll never meddle with any one again, If Monsieur Dufaur catches them. ” “Yes, no doubt. But this is a ticklish thing. Awful ticklish. You see, the very moment I go out they'll take you somewhere else, and then how am I to prove I saw you here? Why, they’d swear through thick and thin' they never saw you—never heard of you. And I’d be laughed at No! I’ve a better plan than that I’ll pretend I know you—that you're a friend of mine, and in short, Miss, I’ll just have to make believe I won’t, have no nonsense, because you are my particular favorite. See?” Joe did not see, and said so very prompt y. “Why can’t you make a row now, and then 111 run away and find the read home ”

“They’d think nothing of settling my hash, * said Mr. Pratty in elegant phrase, “and they’d be rougher with you. No. In the first place, I must find out who’s at tho bottom of this. I must find out who’s paying them to do this, and all about it, in short. Then I'll spring a trap on them. Now, I'll slip out again, and if you don't see me soon you may be sure I’m wo king a plan to get you out of their clutches. ” Then Mr. .lenks darted out quickly and Joe was left alone again. She looked eagerly about the room. There was no means of exit There was but one door, and that led into the room where she heard loud voices and the clinking of g asses. The time seemed interminable to poor Joe. In reality but ten or fifteen min utes elapsed, but Joe never could believe h)urs did not roll round before Mr. Jenks reappeared softly. “I thought you had gone—l was sure you had gone. ” 1 * “No. I was just getting to the bottom of this business Now, listen to me. I’m a lawyer's clerk, as I told you. I know all about the law. There’s somebody has a claim on you.” “I know—Mr. Caper, of Barnesville Poorhouse. O, I'll die—l’ll kill myself before I’ll go back there," Joe cried. “Well, now, you may believe me or not; they can take you ” “Not if Monsieur Dufaur or Mr. Job it * “You*just listen a minute, then you’ll see just how it is. In the first place—now don’t interrupt me till I get through. In the first place, the poorhouse authorities can take you. I suppose you’ve an idea of that sort In the next place, there’s an old farmer who says he is respbnsible for you to that Mr. Caper, or to the authorities of Acorn Oounty. It seems the old codger is in New York—now don’t speak, wait till I'm done. Well, he’s interested mightily. „ He’ll lose, I guess, five hundred dollars if he can’t produce you when Acorn County authorities demand you. So, he’s anxious to get out of that fix. But it

seems he’s made a Best VTlh tho supet* tntendent of the poorhouse like this: The old farmer’s nol to be known In 11 one way or other. He came to town and spied around—got policemen and detecttivea—found you out—then, instead of telling them to nab you—you see, to do that he would have to figure in it. and as near as I can learn, he’s afraid his wife will make it warm for him if he gets his name in the papers—as It would; It couldn’t, help beiqg printed when tt comes into court, as It must. So he is pretty sly—awful sly is the old farmer—he finds a gang of fellows who will hold Jou till they get word to Zeke Caper, and e’ll send on, or come on himself—more like he will come on to New York himself, and then, when he gets you back in Acorn County, why, no one will suspect the farmer's had a hand In it—and It leaves him out—no more responsibility on his shoulders." “I don’t believe It," Joe cried—but the doubts had entered the poor girl’s heart —she did belteve it—and the disillusion was more difficult to bear up under than the dread of encountering Zeke Caper again, “Well—that's Just all I learned—l believe it It's dear enough to me, miss." “It Is Job Wonder—the man who waa kindest to ma " “Ah. That's a pity, too." “He—he—he," Joe was sobbing now, “called at Monsieur Dufaur’s to-day." “Whati” exclaimed Jenks. He waa not a. bad actor—lke Jenks' surprise HAAmAH PAftl “He called to—to—to tell ua Is—ls anything happened me—so Madame Dufaur told me—to be sure and send him word, and he would do all he could to help me.” Jftikir exclamation seemed to be final. “Thatsetties it” “What settles it?" “Why—don’t you see? He knew be : forehand, and how did he know? Because ha bad planned it Then the cheek of the scoundiW—to go to you* house and pretend he would help find you!" Mr. Isaac Jenks, alias Pratty, was virtaioely, furiously indignant at such treachery. He coaid not say enough ill of Job Wonder. Poor Joe was abashed— dum founded. “The worst of it is, if you should manage to get back to Monsieur Dufaur’s either Zqltß Caper or Mr. Wonder O, he la i wonderful sly Wonder, is heel ther of them can walk right in, take you out of the house, and no one dare say boa That’s the law. Suppose Monsieur Dufaur or his wife is inclined to resist, well, then, they'll be arrested: and before they get out of the mass It'll cost ’em—well, knowing what I know, seeing what I’ve seen of interfering with law, if they get off with a hundred dollars apiece to two or three lawyer*— and it’ll take two or three sure, and two or three hundred to pay the folks about court—well, they'll be lucky. * “O, dear! That would be dreadful—all that money to pay just because they mfftbt want to help met ” “01 You don’t know nothing about it, miss. How can vou. I know—because I’m iu the law so much." “I can’t go back to Monsieur Dufaur’a, if I could get away—l can’t go anywhere! I don’t know anybody. My God! What shall I da ” Joe bent her head and wept. “I’ll—l’ll take something—l’ll do something desperate—l’ll never go back to the poorhouse—never!" And Joe meant it Jenks saw it In her face, and it suited his vile purpose. “They shan’t take you back—l won’t let them." “But you said no one could prevent them —that nobody must Interfere. ” “O, no. I didn’t say that, miss. ” Joe looked at him in astonishmenthope lit up her face again. She smiled as she asked him, “Then what did you say?” “I said Dufaurs dare not interfere. ” “Well”— Joe’s face became downcast again. “There’s Just one way—only one." He looked at her very kindly, and winningly, as he thought Joe thought he was very sorry for her. “Well—what Is it?" The noise and laughter in the next room grew louder. Jenks continued. “Why—if you were married nobody could touch you. Zeke Caper might have all the officers In Acorn County to back him—all the lawyers In New York, and you’d laugh at them if — if you had a husband. He’d make them stand back mighty quick. He would. ” “Married!" Joe echoed the word scarcely realizing Its meaning. “Yes, but I’m not married! So what’s the use of telling me that?” “But you could be. ” He said no more. There was no need. Joe’s quick eyes saw all he meant. She flushed scarlet. “I understand.” [to b* continued.]

Bad French of a Briton.

An amusing incident is reported from Paris as having occurred at the race meeting at Autenil. An Englishman, whose French must have been that of the public schools, went to the Paris mutual booth and asked for 900 francs* worth of tickets on Papillon Quatre. His pronuheitflion, however, was not sufficiently understood by the elerk in charge to enable carry out the wishes of his client. He understood that the individual wanted to back the horse whose name was number four on the list, as he could make out a resemblance between the word Quatre, meaning four, as the Englishman pronounced it, and the sound he in common with other Parisians give it. Acting, therefore, in accordance with the idea he supposed had been oonveyed to him, the olerk gave the Englishman ninety ten-franc tickets on Jeanne la Folle; smiling as he did so, for Jeanne, although fourth on the list, was perhaps the rankest outsider which had been entered. But with that blind look which often causes a man to stumble on something which he would never see were his eves or intelligence not b inded at the time, it happecal that this error was the cause of the greatest good fortune that oould have happened to this badly-pronounoinsr-Frerioh Englishman. La Folle, to the surprise of everybody, and to the surprise and honor of the clerk of the Paris-Mutual booth, actually won the raoe, and the Englishman discovered his mistake afterwards when, looking at his tickets, he found that “the confounded French fellow who couldn’t understand what I meant, as if my Frenoh was bad and my accent not so pure as his own, actually made an error which cost him no loss than 61,404 francs."

HOME AND THE FARM.

A DEPARTMENT MADE UP FOR OUR RURAL FRIENDS. The? Neglected the Swamp,—How Farra- . era Could Uhtto Iter Mutual Benefit—Furo Water ot the Bight Temperature for Stuck—A Convenient Arrangement for the Tired Beuaewtfe. Low Lands.

ONE of the greatest mistakes made by the early settlers In our hilly v country was In clearing the high lands and neglect- | ing the swamps. I . Y r ' The result has ' * been disastrous iu < many ways. On many of the rocky /)t summits where wm lf/ there was soil and vegetable matter enough to support a forest, the fire has followed the JpiP ax and the vegetable matter has been consumed

and thA sand either blown or washed away, and were it not tor a few of the remains of the large stumps no one would suppose that the spot was ever anything else than a naked ledge. On other hills where there were no rocks the sand is drifting like the snow, and on some farms there are many acres of this shifting sand that a warranty deed will not hold and that is being conveyed without any legal process. On hills where the soil is between these extremes, the process of exhaustion is more gradual, but just as sure. And now that the high lands are exhausted and denuded some farmers are prevented from clearing up their low lands by the fact that they are all they can depend on for woodlots. But the time is coming when the deep, black deposits of vegetable matter which we call muck-bogs, as well the intermediate strips between them and the dry lands, will be cleared and improved, and other conditions of the farm will be made to conform to the change. These border lands betweon the high lands and the swamps are in many cases of the least value, because they are harder to subdue. The growth upon them is largely spruce, fir, and cypress and the soil is white or rimy sand, with a few inches of black soil abovo it, and as soon as the trees are cut off swamp moss will cover the ground and seeds will blow In and start a new forest.

An Everlasting Fence. The best and cheapest fence on my farm I built seventeen years ago, and It is still good. The posts are cedar, set eight feet apart with the end of the timber which naturally stood up placed dpwn. This is the way to make the fence: .Let the posts go in the ground thirty inches and project four and onefourth to five feet above ground. A top rail of two by four scantling is to be mortised into the corners of the posts and nailed fast. White oak pins are turned uniformly one inch in diameter and inserted in holes bored in every other post. They must be previously well seasoned and soaked In boiled oil. The holes musj, be bored in the posts at the exact point where the wire is to pass it. To get the holes exactly right with the least trouble, it is the best plan to first bore a board for a pattern. Now lay a wire along the line of posts, coil one end of it around a pin and drive the pin in until Its head imbeds the wire in the post. Then drive a staple over the end of the wire. Now, with one man to handle and drive the pins and another to stretch the wire by means of a crowbar or wire-stretcher each time a pin is driven, fifty rods of fence may be hung in one day. I use five wires under the scantling. Each time after a pin is driven the wire is slackened to allow It to be twisted about another pin. These pins are only placed on every second post, the wires being stapled to the Intervening posts. The cost is as follows: Two cedar posts at 15 cents, 30 cents; five plain wires, Nc. 12, 15 cents; five oak plus, 5 cents; scantling, 13 cents; labor, 37 cents. Total, sl. The wire rarely or never breaks, as Its contraction and expansion are taken care of by these pins.—[George W. Humphrey, Onondaga County, Now York.

Simple Bag-Holder. Take three light poles, cut to the same length, each to be about 6 feet Bore a a hole through each pole 2X or 3 inches

Having fastened the poles together by means of the bolt, insert into each pole a serewhook in such a position, and at •uch a height, as to hold the bag well open and allow the bottom to rest upon the floor or ground, as shown in illustration.—[Practical Farmer.

Co-Opera(ion ot Farmer*. There seems to be quite a tendency among farmers, of late years, to form closer unions for mutual benefit. First, farmers’ clubs were organized; then came the Granges;thenFarmcrs’ Alliance, etc., all calculated to increase the power and influence of the farming class by union and combination. The principle of co-operation might be greatly extended among farmers with good results. Wince so many kinds of farm implements and machinerv have come tc be substituted for manual labor small farmers labor under a disadvantage- unless able to invest quite a large capital in labor-saving machinery. If able to make the investment the limited use to which each machlne.can be applied on a small farm of 40, 50or 80 acres hardly saves enough labor to pay interest and wear of machines. Now, If a dozen farmess owning together 600, 800 or 1,000 acres of land could unite and ’purchase all necessary farm machinery it would greatly reduce the cost to each individual, while serving their purposes nearly as well as if everyone owned all the machines. Of course, they would need to eliminate something of human selfishness, and allow the one who most needed the use of the machines to have the first use.

If only a broad, liberal, manly, Christian spirit were always cherished small farmers could, In many ways, co-operate to mutual advantage.

Wafer Tor Farm animals. The water supply Is a matter of prime importance to tho stockman. Without an abundance of pure water of an agreeable temperature, farm animals cannot remain healthy, or make a highly profitable gain of flesh, or yield of milk or of wool. J. M. Stohl In the Practical Farmer, tolls how to arrange a well and windmill so that the animals'at all times may have fresh water of an agreeable temperature. Tho diagram shows how this highly desirable result is accomplished; o is the tank, which should hold eight to ten barrels; cis the well. The curb, the lowor part of tho tower supporting the wind-wheel, and tho pump, can be at once distinguished; b is what is known as tho reefing bucket —a bucket of two or three gallons capacity, having a small hole in the bot-

tom. It is suspended to the rod that passes through the curb, and throws the mill in or out of gear. When the tank is nearly full, water flows from it into the reefing bucket, through tho pipe shown in the cut leading from near the top of the tank to the reefing bucket When the reefing bucket is filled, its weight pulls the mill out of gear, and, of course, stops the pumping. A small pipe leads from the bottom of the tank into the well, as shown in the cut It is of such capacity that it will just about empty the tank until the water has drained out of the reefing bucket through the small hole in its bottom. As the reefing bucket becomes nearly empty, its welghtls not sufficient to keep the mill out of gear, and tho pumping again begins, and is kept up until tho tank Is filled. The water again flows from the tank to the reding bucket, and the pump Is stopped as before. Of course, the flow of water from the tank to the reefing bucket stops as soon as the water sinks a little In the tank. If animals come to drink, there is no flow in the reefing bucket, and of course the pump keeps at work until the animals have drank what thoy want, and the tank is filled. That tho drawing may be plain, all this apparatus is represented as above ground. In fact, the tank Is usually banked around with earth, and the pipes are below the surface. By this arrangement, the animals have cool water in summer, and water of a considerably higher temperature than the freezing point in winter. Stopcocks make It easy to stop the working of this apparatus whenever its stoppage is desirable.

Stopping tha Chunk It is very Important to stop churnfcig at tho right time. Churning after the butter has come will injure the butter. These round grains are solid butter; there is no milk in them, the mllk:ls around these grains. At this stage the milk is easily washed from the butter. Never put your hands in the butter. Draw the buttermilk off, put enough cold water in the churn to float the butter, revolve the churn a few times, or agitate it by shaking or rocking it gently; draw off the water and repeat the washing with pure cold water three times, and the milk will all be washed out. Put one-half ounce of dairy salt to the pound, work the salt in only enough to get the water out; the less butter 1b worked the better. It is Impossible to work all the milk out of butter, but it is no trouble to wash It out Water and butter will not mix; the water is easily worked out Unnecessary working mashes tho grain and ruins the butter, continuous working, mixing and smearing changes it from butter to grease, causes it to lose Its flavor, and ruins its keeping qualities, and very soon it will assume a cheesy smell and taste, and later on it will have a very pronounced and repellant odor.—[Dairy World. Dai rjr Note* Some dairymen claim that oat straw makes butter bitter. It is said that hay, beets and carrots give a good flavor to butter. Take care that no impure air reaches the milk, for it is very easily tainted. Afteb milk is set it should be lowered to 50 or 55 degrees as quickly at possible. Within the last five years the export of oleomargarine has doubled and now amounts to 2,500,000 tubs annually. In Cheboygan County, Wisconsin, two of the cheese factories have each employed a young lady to take charge of their affairs. In washing the butter keep a close watch on it and stop when it is washed enough. There is just as much danger of washing too much as there is of not washing enough. Daiby and Food Commissioner Harkness, of Wisconsin, is making war on the dealers of milk in Milwaukee that have been defrauding their customers with skimmed or watered milk. The Commissioner has the good wishes of every honest man. A coNTBOVKBSrrr is agitating the cheese making world, the bone of contention being whether it is advisable to allow a part of the cream to be taken from the milk when the percentage of butter-fat is so great that the rennet cannot “grasp” all of It It might do to par-' tially skim the milk in certain cases, were it not for the fact that ordinary human nature is not to be trusted. The dairyman should be to some extent a veterinarian, at least enough to be able to tell when his cow is sick and what is the matter with her. »»ny times milk is sold from a sick cow lor days before he is aware that anything is the matter with her. Thus the germs ot tuberculosis and other deadly diseases become scattered through ihe community, and there is no knowing how much sickness and death have been caused by this ignorance.—[Farmers’ Review.

from the end, large enough to receive a oneeighth or onequarter inch thick carriage bolt Be sure that the bolt is long enough to pass well through the three poles, leaving plenty o f room on the threaded end to receive the burr.

Poultry mud the Farm Hoy*. We will venture to assert that If each boy is given a flock bf fowls, if only

LIVE STOCK.

THE DAIRY.

THE POULTRY YARD.

Bantams, and he alone have the man* agement of them, and the receipts—a very important adjunct—the flock of fowls will cause the boy to take an interest in farming from the start Let him become accustomed to the breed and he will soon learn the points of all breeds. And he will not stop there. He will aim to know tho breeds of cattle, sheep, horses, and hogs. He will look forward to the exhibitions at the county fairs, and strive to win prizes. He will have a love for the farm bred in him from tho start and when lie is a man he will yearn for tho happy days spent on tho farm, and he will go back to it if he can, should he be induced away. When ono becomes interested in poultry on the farm he becomes educated to an interest in everything else. As soon as your boy can mauago them, give him a few Bantams, and after he is older start him with some pure breed of standard size. It is the best plan for teaching the boy to remain on the farm. —[Mirror. Clean Eggs, One of the finest things for a poultryman to learn, says the Toronto Blade, is the fact that soiled and dirty eggs should never be sent to market. Many of the eggs that come In are filthy—the shells frequently stained with mud or manure. Fastidious people—the only ones who are willing to pay a “fancy” price—will never buy such eggs if they can help it Clean the eggs before they come to market It will pay you well to do so. Poultry Notoa. When you get ready to fatten the fowls do the work quickly. Tabbed paper is recommended for a lining to poultry houses. Fob the prevention of roup some poultry keepers scatter air-slaked lime over the ground and floors of the poultry houses. Remembeb that sulphur Is a powerful fungicide and insecticide. Therefore use It freely around and In the nests, and in any other place whore you think it will do good. Do not expect any breed to lay equally well In summer and in winter. If you insist on a good supply ot eggs from November till February, then select a breed noted for the ability to lay in the winter.flDo not expect everything of one breed. The raising of ducks Is only in its infancy in this country. The time will perhaps come when that fowl will be raised as extensively as In China. One of the best reasons for extending the breeding of ducks is the fact that they are less liable to disease than any other breed of fowl.

THE HOUSEHOLD.

Kelp for the Tired. With such a simple arrangement as is here shown in the kitchen, the tired wife may have all the water she wants at a moment’s notice, without the necessity

of going out in the cold, or any over-ex-ertion by carrying it. A zinc-lined box is mounted on heavy brackets at the top of the kitchen, or, still better, on the floor of the attic. The heavy pipe shown leads from a spring or well into it, or it may be made very large in the attic and supplied from the eaves. If the well be depended upon a force pump will be needed. When water has risen in tha box to a certain level It flows out of the surplus pipe shown. The pipe running to the sink comes out of the bottom of the box and can drain off all the water it holds, when it will at once fill again. On a large scale, supplying the whole house, the plan is an excellent, but costly one. To fix for the kitchen alone is simple and attended with little expense. A five-gallon can in which castor oil came, can be bought at ■ a drug store for 10 cents. The housewife will gladly wash It clean. Then a little work, a few feet of galvanized pipe and joints and a borrowed pipe wrench will complete a job which may save a doctor’s or an undertaker’s bill and the most precious member of any American borne.—[Hollister Sage, In Rural New Yorker. TMi(i Worth Knowing. Clean piano-keys with a soft rag dipped ib alcohol. To clean a black silk dress, use a sponge dipped in strong black tea, cold. Take egg stains from silver by rubbing with a wet rag which has been dipped in common table salt To clean a teakettle, take it away from the fire and wash off with a rag dipped In kerosense, followed by a rubbing with a dry flannel cloth. To clean ceilings that have been blackened by smoke from a lamp, wash off with rags that have been dipped in soda water. To mend cracks in stoves and stovepipes, make a paste of ashes and salt with water, and apply. A harder and more durable cement is made of iron fillings, sal ammoniac and water.

THE KITCHEN.

Dome*tie Slate. Dbawn Buttkh.— Rub together two tablespoonfuls butter, one of floor; add Jnst a trifle of cold water, then some boiling water, until proper consistency, little salt Boil two minutes. Baspbkbby Sybup. —On three quarts of red raspberries pour IX pints of cider vinegar, and let stand twenty-four hours. Strain, and to each pint of the liquid add a pound of granulated sugar; scald twenty minutes, skim and bottle, sealing tightly. Boiled Macabowi.— Put macaroni Into a porcelain-lined kettle; add a small onion chopped; boil in water about half an hour, stirring often. When tender add pieces of cheese; take a#ay from the Are, cover tight, and let the cheese melt before serving.