Democratic Sentinel, Volume 18, Number 21, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 8 June 1894 — Page 3

UNITED AT LAST

CHAPTER XIII. •AT MEBLIN’g VEIT THE WILT VIVIEN LAY. ” AU went merrily at Dave nan t during the brief days of November and December, though the master of the house was not without his burden of secret cark and care. That magnificent coal and iron producing estate in the north had not been yielding quite so much fiard cash as its owner expected from t lately. Strikes and tradeunionism had told upon Mr. Sinclair’s income. The coal market had fluctuated awkwardly. Belgium had been tapping the demand for iron. There was plenty of money coming in, of course, from Gilbert’s large possessions; but unfortunately there was also a great deal going out The Newmarket stables bad cost a small fortune, the Newmarket horses had been unlucky, and Gilbert s book for the last three or four seasons had been a decided failure. “The fact is, Wyatt,” he remarked, to that confidential adviser, one dull afternoon, over a tete-a-tete game at billiards, “I’m spending too much money.” “Have you only just found that out?” asked the solicitor, with a calm sneer. “The purchase of this confounded place took too much of my capital, and these strikes and lock-outs coming on the top of it " “Not to mention your vicious habit of plunging,” remarked Mr. Wyatt, parenthetically, taking a careful aim at the distant red. “Have very nearly stumped me.” “Why not sell Davenant? You don’t want such a big barracks of a place, and—Mrs. Sinclair isn’t happy here.” “No," said Gilbert, with a smothered oath; “the associations are too tender.” “I could get you a purchaser to-mor-row. ” “Yes, at a dead loss, no doubt. You fellows live by buying and selling, and you don’t care how much your client loses by a transaction that brings grist to your mill.” “I can get you the money you gave for Davenant, timber and all.” “Who’s your purchaser?” “I’d rather not mention his name yet awhile. He is a quiet party and wouldn't like to be talked about.” “I understand. Some city cad ’%ho has made his money in the zoological line.” “How zoological?" “Bulling and bearing. Well, if those beastly colliers hold out much longer, he may have Davenant and welcome. But he must take my new furniture at a valuation. I’ve paid no end of money for it." “What did you do with the old Jacobean oak?” “Oh, the old sticks are put away somewhere, I believe, in lofts and lum-ber-rooms and servants’ bedrooms.” i Some of Mr. Sinclair’s other guests dropped into the billiard-room at this juncture, and there was no more said about the sale of Davenant. Nobody—not even his worst enemy, and no doubt among his numerous friends he had several foes—could deny Mr. Wyatt’s merits as a guest in a country house. He was just the kind of man to keep things going—a pastmaster in all social accomplishments—and Gilbert Sinclair graciously allowed him to takp the burden of amusing everybody upon his shoulders, while the master of the house went his own way, and hunted or shot at his own plea-ure. Mr. Sinclair liked to fill his house with people, but he had no idea of sacrificing his own inclination to their en.ertainment; he thought he did quite enough for them in giving them what he elegantly called “the run of their teeth. ” and the free use of his second-rate hunters.

On Mr. Wyatt, therefore, devolved the duty of keeping things going—devising the day’s amusements, protecting the ladies of the party from the selfishness of neglectful and unappreciative mankind, arranging picnic lunchcheons in k jepers’ lodge?, at which toe fair sex might assist, finding safe mounts for those aspiring damsels who wanted to ride to hounds, planning private theatricals, and stimulating the musical members of the society to the performance of part songs in a busi-ness-like and creditable manner. He had done all these things last winter and the winter before, but on those occasions he had been aided in his task. Constance Sinclair had given him her hearty co-operation. She had played her part of hostess with grace and spirit—had allowed no cloud of hought or memory to obscure the brightness of the present moment. She had given herself up, heart and soul, to the duties of her position, and her friends had believed her to be the happiest of women, as well as the most fortunate. To seem thus had cost her many an effort, but she had deemed this one of her obligations as Gilbert Sinclair's wife. Now all was changed. Her husband had been obeyed; but that obedience was all which Constance Sinclair’s sense of duty could now compel She sat like a beautiful statue at the head of her husband s table, she moved about among her guests with as little part in their pleasure and amusement as if she had been a picture cn the wall—courteous to all, but familiar with none, she seemed to live apart from her surroundings—a strange and silent life, whose veil cf shadow even sympathy failed to penetrate. Mrs. Millamount, not unkindly, despite her frivolity, had tried to get Constance to talk of her bereavement, but the wounded heart was galled by the gentlest touch. “It's very kind of you,” she said, divining her friend's motive, “but I d rather not talk of her. Nothing can ever lessen my grief, and I like best to keep it quiet to myself.” “How you must hate us all for being here!” Sjid Mrs. Miilamcunt, moved with compunction at the incongruity between the houseful of company and the mother's de olate heart. “It seems quite abominable for us to be thinking of nothing but pleasure while you bear your burden alone.” “Nobody could divide it with me," answered Constance, gently. “Pray do not trouble yourself about my sor-

MISS M E BRADDON

rowa If 1 could hide them better, I would. Gilbert likes to be surrounded with pleasant faces, and I am very glad that he should be pleased.” “She’s quite too good to live,” remarked the sprightly Mrs. Millamount to her friend, Lady Loveall, that evening. “But do you know that I m afraid there’s something a little wrong here, ” and Flora Millamount touched her ivory forehead suggestively with the tip of her Wateau fan. James Wyatt was not a sportsman. He was an excellent judge of a horse, rode well, and knew as much about guns as the men who were continually handling them, but he neither shot nor hunted, and he had never been known to speculate upon the turf. These things were for his clients —a very pretty way of running through handsome fortunes and bringing their owners to the Jews —not for him. He could take his amusement out of other men’s follies and remain wise himself. Life to him was an agreeable and instructive spectacle, which he assisted at as oomfortably as he heard “Don Giovanni* from his stall in the third row; and when the foul fiend of insolvency whisked off one of his dearest friends to the infernal regions which bankrupts and outlaws inhabit, he felt what a nice thing it was to be only a spectator of the great drama. Not being a sportsman, Mr. Wyatt had a good deal of time to himself at Davenant, despite’his general usefulness. There were rainy mornings when the men were out shooting, and the ’bus had not yet started for the point of rendezvous with the ladies and the luncheon. These leisure hours Mr. Wyatt improved by strolling about the corridors, looking at the old pictures, for the most part in that meditative mood in which a man sees very little of the picture he seems to contemplate, and occasionally by a quiet flirtation with Melanie Duport. That ycung person had plenty of leisure for perambulating the corridors between breakfast and dinner. Mrs. Sinclair was by no means an exacting mistress, and Melanie s life at Davenant was one of comparative idleness. Her superiority of mind showed itself in a calm contempt for her fellow-servants, and she was rarely to be found in the servants’ rooms. She preferred the retirement of her own bed-chamber, and a French novel lent her by that goodnatured Mr. Wyatt, who had always a supply of the newest and worst Parisian literature in his portmanteau. On this dull December morning, a day of gray clouds and frequent showers, Mr. Wyatt stood before a doubtful Vandyck, smoking meditatively, and apparently absorbed in a critical examination of Prince Rupert’s slouched beaver and ostrich plume, when Melanie’s light, quick step and tripping French walk at the other end of the gallery caught his ear. He turned slowly around to meet her, puffing lazily at his cigar. “Eh, la belle, ” he exclaimed, “even an English December does not dim the luster of those Southern eyes.” “I was born in the Quartier Latin, and my parents were all that there is of the most Parisian, ” answered Meladie, scornfully. “Then you must have stolen those eyes of yours from one of the Murillos in the Louvre. What news, little one?” “Only that I find myself more and more weary of this great barrack. ” “Come now, Melanie, you must confess you have a good time of it here. ” “Oh, as for that, perhaps, I ought not to complain. My mistress is very gentle, too gentle; it gnaws me to the heart to see her silent grief. That preys upon my mind. ” Here Melanie squeezed out a tear, which she removed from her pearlpowdered cheek-a very sallow cheek under the powder—daintily with the corner of a hem-stitched handkerchief. “You are too compassionate, little one,” said Mr. Wyatt, putting his arm around her waist consolingly. Perhaps he had gone a little too far with these leisure half hours of flirtation. He had an idea that the girl was going to be troublesome. Tears augured mischief. “C’est dommage,” murmured Melanie; “I have the heart too tender.” “Don't fret, my angel. See here, pretty one; I have brought you another novel,” taking a paper-covered book from his pocket. “Belot?”

“No; Zola,” “I don’t want it. I won’t read it. Your novels are full of lies. They describe men who will make any sacrifice Kr the woman they love—men who will take a peasant girl from her hovel, or a grisette from her garret and make her a queen. There are no such men. I don’t believe in them,” Cried the girl, passionately, her eyes flasning fire. “Don’t be angry, Melanie. Novels would be dull if they told only the truth. ” “They would be very amusing if they descrined men of your pattern,” retorted Melan'e. “Men who say sweet things without meaning them, who flatter every woman they talk to, who turn a foolish girl's head with their pretty speeches and caressing ways, and then laugh at her folly. Yes, as yuu are laughing at me,” cried Melaine, exasperated by Mr. Wyatt’s placid smile. “No, my sweet, I am only admiring you,” he replied, calmly. “What have I done to raise this tempest?” “What have you done?” cried Melanie, and then burst into tears, real tears this time, which serious y damaged the pearl-powder. “I am sure I don't know why I should care so much for you. You are not handsome. You are not even young. ” “Perhaps not, but I am very agreeable,” said James Wyatt, complacently. “Don't cfy, ma belle; only be patient and reasonable, and perhaps I shall be able to prove to you some day that thei e are men, real, living men, who are capable of any sacrifice for the woman they love.” Melaine allowed herself to be apE eased by this rather vague speech, ut she was only half convinced. “Tell me only one thing,” she said. “Who is that lady I saw at Schoenesthal? and why were you so anxious to please her?” James Wyatt’s smooth face clouded at this question. “She is le ated to me, and I knew she had been used badly. Hush, my dear, walls have ears. There are things we musn’t talk about here.” “What is the lady’s real name?” “Mad me Chose.’ She comes of the oldest branch of the family—altogether grande dame, I assure you.” - “I wish she would take me into her service. ” “Why, you are better- off here than with her. ” “I don’t think so. I should see more of you'if I lived with that lady. ” “There you are wrong. I see Madame Chose very rarely. ” “I don’t believe you.” “Melanie, that’s extremely rude.” “I believe that you are passionately in love with that lady, and that is why "

“Not another word, - ' exclaimed James Wyatt; "there's the luncheon bell, and I must be off. You d better take Zola You’ll find him more amusing than the talk in the servants’ halL ” Melanie took the volume sullenly, and walked away without a word. “What a little spitfire!” mused Mr. Wyatt, as he went slowly down the wide oak staircase. “She has taken my pretty speeches seriously and means to make herself obnoxious. This comes of putting one's self in the powor of the inferior sex. If I had trusted a man—as I trusted that girl—it would have been a simple matter of business. He would have been extortionate, perhaps, and there an end. But Mademoiselle makes it an affair of the heart, and I dare say will worry my life out before I have done with her. *

STARTING A FASHION.

How the Wearing of Whit* Gloves Was Initiated in Gotham. The other day a young man wanted a pair of evening gloves late at night, and had to go over to Sixth avenue to get them, says the New York Press. There was nothing of his size in stock but a pair of white gloves, while pearl alone are de rigueur. However, he was a dancing man and had to wear f loves, so he bought the gloves, and in course of time led the cotillon wearing them. The chappies were astounded. Nobody could question this man's irreproachable taste, and in fact he was something of a leader of fashion. After supper a breathless deputation waited upon him to know whether or not white gloves had come back again. “I’m wearing them myself, you see, dear boy,” he said jokingly, but with a slightly superior smile. ’ “I haven’t reallv heard whether the Prince hai found it out yet or not. ” Now your true dude is not susceptible to the influence of irony. Besides, the deputation was flustered at the innovation. The result was that they mixed those speeches up, and in half an hour everybody in the room was saying that the Prince of Wales had taken to wearing white gloves in the evening, and that Tom Blank was the first man in Few York to hear of it. So white gloves and not pearl are now the proper thing to wear in New York City on dress occasions, and when our man of fashion strolled into the Metropolitan Opera House the other night and looked around the circle he smiled grimly. Half the men in the boxes looked as if they were carrying snowballs.

Booth as a Bill-Poster.

One story of Booth’s trip to the Sandwich Islands remains with me. He had gone there in 1854, ih company with his comrade, Mr. David C. Anderson, en route to Australia, and they were to play in the Royal Hawaiian Theater. They had hired a native to paste up the bills announcing the performance; this had to be done with a preparation name “poe-pce, ” made from a vegetable called “tara-tara,” which is a favorite food in Honolulu; but the poor man was so hungry that, yielding to temptation, he incontinently ate up the paste, and to their surprise no bills appeared, writes William Bispham, in the Century. When she reason was ascertained they feared to trust another native, and it was therefore agreed that, as Booth was the younger, he should act as bill-poster, and it came to pass that every night after the performance, Edwin went about the city with his play-bills and bucket of paste, and put up with his own hands the posters announcing that the company would play on the following night. He assured me that he did this honestly and did not eat the paste.

The Original Ossified Man.

In the Museum of Natural History In Dublin is the skeleton of a man, a native of the South of Ireland, who was called the ossified man. His body became ossified during his lifetime. He lived in that condition for years. Previous to the change he had been a healthy young fellow of superior strength and agility. One night he slept out in a field after a debauch, and some time later he felt the first symptoms of the strange transformation. The doctors could do nothing to avert the progress of his malady. His joints stiffened. When he wanted to lie down or rise up he required assistance. He could not beud his body, and when placed upright he resembled a statue of stone. He could stand, but not move in the least. His teeth were joined and became an entire bone. The doctors, in order to administer nourishment, had to make a hole through them. He lo3t the use of his tongue, and his sight left him before he died.

He Didn’t Relish tho Bill of Pare.

The guest at the hotel table laid the menu down and gazed up at the waiter. “Have you any corned beef and cabbage?” he asked. “No, sir.” “Got any sauerkraut and sausage?” “No, sir.” “Got any crackling bread?" “No, sir.” The guest was becoming uneasy. “Well,” he said, in an unpleasant way, “have you got anything to eat here at all?” “There's the bill of fare, sir,” replied the waiter, nodding toward it. The guest picked it up and examined it carefully. “Um,” he said, after a thorough inspection, “I can’t eat that. At least, not raw. Take it out to the kitchen and have it broiled a bit, will you?”

Buying Titles Abroad.

In Portugal, where aU hereditary titles have been abolished, and where they are held only for life, it is possible to become duke, marquis, count, or baron by the payment of relatively small sums of mon -y into the national treasury. There are any number of English and other foreign merchants engaged in Portuguese trade who have acquired high-sounding titles in this mauler. In'ltaly, too, any title can be obtained by the payment of money. There is a regular fixed tariff, the cash paid being described as “registration dues. ” Thus everybody who does not happen' to be a notorious criminal can buy an hereditary title of count either from the Pope or from King Humbert for the sum of £I,OOO.

An Incident of Life in Texas.

In some Texas towns it is impossible to ascertain when any particular train leaves without going to the depot and inquiring of the agent how many hours behind time the train is. Col. Yerger, who lives ih Austin, wished to go to San Antonio on the 1 o’clock train, so he said to his colored servant: “Sam, go down to the depot and see what time the I o’clock train leaves. ” It was 3 o’clock when Sam returned. “Well, when does the train leave?” “Hit's dun lef’, boss. Hit’s lef’ at half past 2, sah!” “What!” 1 “I did jes whut yer tole me. Yer tole me ter see when de train lef’, an’ I watched till it was plain outer sight on de udder side ob de Colorado Ribber.” Beware of the man who defends any kind of evil.

SENATE BRIBERY INVESTIGATING COMMITTEE.

ON THE SEA ISLANDS.

QUAINT INHABITANTS OF A LITTLE KNOWN REGION. Gentle and Patient Negroes Whose Lives Are Passed In Raising Crops of Cotton— Where a Great Hnrrleane Wrought Desolation—3,ooo Human Beings Perished. Produre Flue Cotton. The full story of the horrors suffered last summer from the hurricane which desolated tho islands along our southern Atlantic coast will never probably be fully told. The newspapers were full at that time with accounts of the misery of the people and the utter desolation wrought. At least 2,000 human beings lost their lives, 1,000 perished subsequently from exposure and disease, and between 20,000 and 30,000 were left homeless and helpless. In Scribner’s Magazine Joel Chandler Harris, who has been in the South visiting the scene of the disaster, gives an interesting account of the present condition of the islands, and also tells something about the people who live on them. It. is from this

A STORM-WRECKED MANSION ON ST. HELENA.

article that the following account is summarized: The Sea Islands, as these are called, cover a good deal of territory altogether, for they reach down the whole coast from Charleston to Savannah. Those lying between Savannah and Port Royal are not so large, either in area or population, as those which extend from Port Royal to Charleston. All lie very near one another, separated by narrow lagoons. They are little known and rarely visited by the white people, and negroes form the bulk of the population. These are negroes of a rather peculiar kind. They are of the slave type of the African; their ancestors were brought over from Africa, where, as slaves for generations, they were engaged in raising cattle and rude forms of agriculture. These traits which excited the rapacity of the slave-trader still manifest themselves in the negroes of the Sea islands in a way that is both attractive and touching. They are gentle, unobtrusive and friendly; they are patient and uncomplaining. The Cotton Growth. The Sea Islands produce the finest and highest priced cotton in the world and the land on which it is grown recuperates and enriches itself from year to year. This cotton enters into the manufacture of the finest goods and is worth 25 cents a pound when carelessly prepared, (10 cents when carefully gathered. These, by the way, are high prices for cotton and many of the negroes, therefore,

AN ISLAND HOME.

are comparatively well to-do and own from ten to fifty acres of land, but the majority, of course, are poor and thriftless. The cotton planters do not renew their soli as often as they should, and the consequence is that the cotton has lately deteriorated somewhat in quality. It is for this reason that this cotton stytnjs some chance of being crowded from the market by importations from Egypt. In that country cotton nearlyas good is raised and much more cheaply.

Last year $5,000,000 worth of it was imported into the United States. Mr. Harris cannot speak in terms sufficiently high of the relief work done by Miss Clara Barton and the Red Cross Society for the people of the Sea Islands. Tirelessly, with unremitting zeal the members of the society work, dealing out food and provisions—a peck of grits and a pound of pork which are the rations for a family of six. These are carried home by the natives from the

TRAVELING ON THE SEA ISLANDS.

relief station in their curious little bull sulkies. The Red Cross people are much hampered in their good work by lack of funds, but they do everything that is possible toward ameliorating the condition of the unfortunate natives.

A NEPHEW OF HENRY CLAY.

Ho Id Peddling: Notions on the Streets of Run ; Diego, Cal. In one of the humblest Cottages in San Diego, Cal., lives an old man whose tall form and distinguished appearance have made him a familiar figure on the streets of that city. He may be seen any day going from door to door with a basket strapped around him, peddling notions. This venerable old man, who was one day in fairly comfortable circumstances, is named Cyprian Clay, and his father was a brother of that brilliant political leader of bygone days, Henry Clay. He is now 81 years old, and his career of over four score years has been an eventful one. He can recall many of the most stirring incidents in the early history of this country as if they happened but yesterday, and prides himself on his acquaintance with many of those intellectual giants who flourished during the days of his illustrious uncle. Re-

CYPRIAN CLAY, AND HIS PEDDLING OUTFIT.

verses overtook him and now, with a daughter, the last of his seven children, he is passing his last days in poverty, eking out a scanty living for the two from the sale of his wares.

The Ancient Idea of God.

A specially Interesting subject occupied the Victoria Institute recently. Mr. T. G. Pinches, of the Oriental Department of the British Museum, describes some results of his examination of the Babylonian tablets. He showed from one of these, of about the period 030 B 0., that the king used the word Gcd as a monotheist would; and even so lar back as 3000 B, C. the tablets bore the same expression in the some sense. Evidence has, indeed, Accumulated of late which tends to show that the Babylonian Pantheon, supposed to include thirteen deities, was really monotheistic In the discussion which followed Mr. Itassam, Maj. Condor, and Canon Glrdlestone took part, and it was pointed out that in the early Egyptian records also there was evidence of a primitive faith in one God. —London Telegraph.

Fishing for Hackers.

One hears an echo of hard times among the people lately returned from the winter resorts of Florida. There are complaints of exorbitant charges at hotels, and of the determination of everybody in some Florida towns to pluck the Northern stranger. “Our season is short and we have to make the most of it,” is the explanation at St. Augustine. “What do you do in the summer and autumn?” asked a visitor. “Oh, nothing,” was the reply; “just wait for you folks to come back. ”

HOME AND THE FARM.

A DEPARTMENT MADE UP FOR OUR RURAL FRIENDS. One Weter Trough for Sr. era 1 Fields— Convenience of a Folding Feed Hack— A Tasteful Corner Sldeboar.l- The Farmer's Darden-Agricultural Notes. Unique Water Trough. Good, pure water Is one jf the essentials of health, and a thriving condition in farm stork. Often- a pump, w nd-mill. or the overflow from springs or running streams can be utilized and the accumulation

FIG. 1. WATERING TROUGH FOR FOUR FIELDS.

stored, or so distributed that stock from four fields may drink the water* from the same trough. This will prove a great saving in the construction and maintenance of several troughs, and as stock from one field can be watered just as readily as those pasturing in four, the advantage is quite apparent The manner of arranging the fences for a sixteen-foot trough is shown in Fig 1, engraved from a sketch by L. I). Snook. If thought best one or two slats may extend across the trough where the fences cross it at tne throe points, l In Fig. 2 is shown the plan of utilizing a caldron kettle tor the same purpose. It these arc used only dur-

FIG. 2. CALDRON WATERING TROUGH.

ing summer, they will bo found vory durable, and will last many generations. If ice Is allowed in the kettle, there is danger of breaking it if possible, drill a hole m'tho bottom for rapid cleaning, leaving this open when not in uso. If a iargo circular cover is adjusted, but little rain will enter if exposed during the winter season. Both of these plans aie equally available for use under barn basements where stock is usually wintered in several flocks, in fact the same trough is available for both localities, as it is readily placed in position. This will be found moro practicable' than watering stock from a pail, as many farmers have done for years. As to the mai.ner or getting the water into the trough, many plans are feasible, adopting tho one*considered the most practical with the Immediate surroundings. - American Agriculturist. A Horner Sideboard. It is frequently the case that there Is not proper wall space near the center of the walls of one’s dlnbig room for a sideboard, and In such fin event one of these most serviceable articles may be fitted into a corner of the room. Tho accompanying illustration shows a homomade structure that any one at all handy with tools ought to be able to make very

CONVENIENT SIDEBOARD.

readily. The wood used should be such as will harmonize with the other furniture of the room, or, if that,is a variety of woods, as Is frequently the case, more latitude may be taken in selecting a handsome wood for this purpose. Oak, ah, cherry, or whitewood may be used with good effect. Let the top and front be treated with s'mpll lty, placing the vfork of Mulshing In the direction of securing a handsome service, rather than an ornamentation of “filigree'* work, that is neither effective nor in good taste.

Bee Culture. We see a gpod deal said about keeping hogs, sheep, poultry, and other farm stock to consume what would otherwise be waste products, and so add to the profit of the farm. Why are not bees named in th s list more frequently? Surely there is no product which would be more wholly wasted, were it not for them, than that whi h they gather from the flowers and the fiuit. The farmer need not lie a bee keeper on a large scale any more than he need keep a large flock of poultry, but he should have sonic of each. Fifty colonies are perhaps enough for any ode who does not wish to make a specialty of the business. Begin small and work up.it you find that it suits you. A farmer of our acquaintance began with two colonies ten years ago to test the matter. He says that they never failed to pay expenses, including the value of his own time and labor, any single year. He sells both bees and honey, and so his colonies vary from twenty-five to flity. lie says that with himself there is less expense and worry in producing SIOO worth of honoy than in getting the 6ame amount from either hogs or poultry, and that he finds the chances of an unprofitable year much fewer. Honey is in steady demaua in all markets, and a really fine article does not. have to go begging for a purchaser. There is a great difference in the quality, and this does not depend wholly on the food, people imagine. The strain of bees has something to do with it, and ibe man who handles the* bees and the product has much more. Honey must be In attractive shape when put on the market if it is to sell well. —Ex. The F*rmer,i Garden. This should consist of not less than one acre of the best soil, 8 by 10 rods,

and if It runs over a knoll to as to tret north and south slope it wHI prolong the fruiting season. Fence It from the chickens and navo no shade trees in or about the garden; everything needs sunlight and culture. The ground sho >ld have from 10 to 2() loads of the best manure to the acre every year. All rows shoull run the entlfe length and be cultivated with the horse. If you don’t want 1« rods of any one vegetable fill it out with something else, and the same with fruit But you do want a whole row of grapes on the sunny side, for you can buy two-year-old Concord vines at $ I per dozen, and if you have more than you can eat, they are worth more to give away than to sell, but your grocer wilt give you 4 or 5 cents ncr pound for them, and after four years planted, ought to liear 20 to 40 pounds. Eight feet from the grapes plant a row of currants, gooseberry and pfe plants, so you can drive over this row to mulch, then 8 feet from this a row of blackberries, then a row of red raspberries, next black raspberries the entire length of tne garden, one row of pistillates, one row of perfect flowered varieties side’ by side, tiio rows 4 feet apart and the plants 2 to ;i feet- —G. J. Kellogg. Value or Half. These notes are greatly taken with the value and absolute necessity of salt. The Gleaner’s horses alwaya have a big lump in their n anger—that is, it is big when placed there, but it invariably and rapidly grows smaller; the heifer has a lump in her manger, beside a frequent sprinkle in her grain ration; twice a week or oftenor tho hens have a little mixed In their food. It’s tho nicest kind of a plan to havo a lump in scran protected place in the pasture, and be sure you’ll always find a well trodden path leading up to it when once tho cattle know where ti tlnd It A horse will almost invariably lick tho lump as soon as turned into the stall after a drive. It may be a cranky notion to gargle salt water in one’s mouth occasionally in the morning, letting the gargle run down well into the throat, but it is a very simple plan for cleansing the mouth and throat and a fairly strong mixture will relieve the tired, uncomfortable feeling that sometimes clings to overworked eyca— Hartford Courant

j: ■- . Folding F«»rt'4J»ck. If Is often convenient to feed a horse for a single mail In a place

OPEN.

sttlon in a moment and when not in use cun be turned up agalast the wall. Less room still would be

taken by, leaving the lower part of tho slat work hinged dlioctly to the wall. Pieces of rope oi j snaps could take t he place of the i trains if desired. The benefits of

this rack are too apparent to need explanation further. The whole cost ot making and putting in position is slight and any man bandy with tools can put one together In half an hour.

The Culture of Squailimi. Squashes must have a warm soil which should incline to a rather stiff loam. High meadows grow luxuriant vines and large si ed squashe', but the quality is Inferior and thoy are extremely poor keepers. Squashes like all other garden tru k must be supplied with large amounts of plant food. A heavy manuring should he thoroughly incorporated into the soil at the time of plowing. The soil should then be thoroughly hardened and hills cut out not less than eight feet apart, and for tho stronger growing varieties ten feet is none too far. From 500 to 700 pounds of phosphate per acre should be scattered around the hills and mlted in tho so 1. In planting tho best plan is to drop o ght or ten seeds to a hllL When all are germinated these may be thinned out to three or four. After tne second hoeing from 500 to 6bO pounds more ot phosphate should be scattered between the rows, thus providing abundant food during the growing season. Hills struck out la regular rows may be cultivated both ways and much hand hoeing saved. Hilling squashes Is now generally looked upon as being anold-fashioned style of cultivation and level culture Is the mode now generally practiced. —Farm and Home.

‘Agricultural Atoms. Use dry straw for bedding. Small hogs make the best meat Keep the orchard fenced from all stock. „ , When hens are moulting the ao cumulation of feathers should be cleared out at least ouce a week. Be sure and put all tools carerully under shelter before they are rusted or otherwise damaged. To leave the bees a reasonable supply of honey for the winter Is better than attempting to feed them. Utilize small potatoes by boiling with meat scraps and feeding on e a day. Mash while warm and thicken with bran. Plah the garden so that as fast as one crop is matured another will take its place and thus have a succession of fresh vegetables and keep the land occupied. Grass needs a solid, firm soil to grow freely and live long. Yet It Is hard work to get the. ordinary farmer to use the roller alter or before sowing grass seed. Have you a spare.ty$ v , o£ ground? Plant a fruit tree, take care of it, arid thus add to the value of the farm. In time it will fully pay for the work and trouble, A well-buoken horse Is worth *25 more than an unbroken one Few horses become thoroughly trained to all kinds of work within two jears, and many are never well trained. Farming differs from any other business, in that it demands the personal care and oversight of the proprietor in every minute detail. This is the reason why attempts to carry on agriculture upon the wholesale plan have raiely been succesaful

where a perinancnt crib would bo in the way, suys Farm and Home. The illustration s ltaow a feed crib that can bo f>ut in po-

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