Democratic Sentinel, Volume 18, Number 40, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 19 October 1894 — Page 3

Silence

BY Miss Mulock

MASSES'-*

h Oabroad, mother, ( is what I have ( —"L about decided to , f do, after alt ” \ He who said this, sudden y and just a trifle sharply, had been In/bAYjx, sitting, reading, A) at * he furthest xi* end a ver y handsome, not to ' V y ? crgeoU3 ’ tlv drawing-room,

where a gro <p of four ladies, whose clothes well matched the apartment, sat conversing. For I have no doubt they would have called it “conversation” —of a highly interesting and improving kind. The youhg fellow in the distance, however, did not seem to find it so. He was at the age when men are very critical of women, especially of their mothers and sisters, unless these happen to be sufficiently beautiful ideals to remain such unto son and brother from the cradle to the grave—an exceptional happiness which befalls few, and it h-d not befallen Roderick Jardine. The stout lady who, the instant he spoke, pricked up her ears with a cheerful “Eh, my dear?” was (eccentric nature will sometimes have it soi very unlike this, her youngest child and only son —as unlikfe as it was possible for’ mother and son to ba. Light and dark, fat and lean, large-boned and slender, phlegmatic and nervous, they came ot two diametrically opposite types, physically and mentally. Morally—yes, there was similarity there, for Mrs. Jardine was a good woman, and Roderick was, as the ceaselessly declared, being very outspoken as to her feelings, the best of sons, though he was a little “peculiar,” like his poor, dear father, of whom he was the very image. This was true. Her three daughters —now married and settled, except the last, who was just about to be—all took after herself. Not her present self, J erhaps, but the comely lassie she must have been once—fair-haired, round-cheeked, with a wide mouth and slightly projecting teeth —though possessing sufficient good looks to be a belle in Richerden. Roderick alone “favored” the other side of the house—the tail, dark, rather sad-looking father, who came of old Highland blood, and not being in business like most of the Richerden folk had led a rather retired life, keeping himself very much in the background, even amid his own family, Nobody really knew him, or thought much of him, until he died, which event happened just before his son went to college. Since then his widow had gradually blossomed out into great splendor; married her two daughters, taken her inaependent place in society, Richerden society, as a woman—l beg pardon, a lady—ought to do who has a large fortune, a fine family, and a great capacity for managing both. People had ’said that she managed her husband; but those who knew Mr. Jardine questioned this. Gentle as he was, he was not exactly a man to be “managed” by anybody. “What were you saying, Rody, my lamb.-” Now, if there was a pet name the young fellow disliked, it was his childish diminutive of “Rodv. ” And no man of tive-and-twenty is altogether p.eased at teing called “a lamb.” "Can you spare two minutes from that very delightful conversation of yours to listen to me. mother?” “Ou, ay. my dear.” The young man winced a little. “Wouldnt ‘yes - do as well as ‘ou, ay?’ But never mind, it doesn’t matter, mother, dear,” added he with a sigh, more of weariness than impatience. “Rody, my boy,” said she, coming to him half-depre'catingly, “were you saying you wished to go abroad? ft’s late in the year, to be sure, but I’ll not hinder you. Only you must promise me not to be climbing up Alps and tumbling into glaciers.” Glaziers, she called them; and her voice had the high-pitched shrillness which Richerden ladies se dom quite get out of, even when they fancy they have merged their native accent in the purest of English. “Wherever you go, remember you must be back in time for Isabella's marriage. ” “Certainly—and, mother, don't be afraid of my tumbling into a glacier, or of an avalanche tumbling down upon me. I shall only see the Alps at a distance. At this time of year one must content one’s self with towns.” “That's hard, laddie, when you are so fond of the country. But do as you like—do as you like—only don't forget the marriage. You will have to give away the bride, Rody. Ah! your poor father.” The widow’s eyes filled with tears. If she had not understood her husband, she had loved him certainly, and more perhaps after his death than before it. “We’ll we'll talkjihe matter over another time',” cried Roderick. “At this moncent I m busy—l mean, I —l have an engagement. Gocd-by, everybody. 111 be back at dinner-time.” “A little before dinner-time, plea-e, pay dear. Remember we have compa-ny-twenty at least—a regular dinner party,” “Oh, yes, a ‘meeting of creditors.’ as my father used to call it, ” said the young fellow somewhat bitterly. “No fear, mother; I’ll be back in time, and do my duty to all the old fogies.” “They’re not old fogies; there are some as nice girls as you could wish to see, if you'd only look at them, Roderick, ” said Bella, who, going to be married herself, quite lamented that her only brother seemed determined

against matrimony. “Well, 1 will, Bell, I promise you, only let me go now.” And snatching up his hat —a Glengarry bonnet which he persisted in wearing, though his sisters told him it made him look like the Highland porters at the quay—he fairly ran away. Rapidly the young fellow walked on through park and square, through street and wind, or “vennel, ” as such dreary dens are often called here; shrinking from and detesting alike the poverty and the riches, the splendor and the rags. It began to rain heavily, but he heeded not. Though brought up in luxury, he was not luxurious by nature, could stand a good deal of hardship, and had a young man’s instinctive pride in “roughing it.” Still “an even down-pour.” as his mother would have called it, is not an agreeable thing; and as in reality his only “engagement” was with himself, whose company he felt free to enjoy as much as anybody else, he stopped his walk and turned into a railway station, where at least he could sit down quietly and read his letters, which he had snatched up from the hall table on going out. But having no very interesting correspondence—lor he'had left behind at Cambridge few intimates and no duns, also being, I fear, of a rather dilatory turn of mind, and give'n to the bad system of laissez-aller —Roderick left the letters unopened in his pocket, and sat idly watching the passengers gather for a train just about to start. And when he heard the guard calling out the name of a place where he and his father had spent many a happy day, on a sudden impulse he sprung into the train without a ticket (“just like Rody, silly fellow,” they would have said at home), and was borne away. As he swept along in the train, and, quitting it, starte’d on arf old familiar walk, along high cliffs which gave him a view of the country—land and senior many lovely miles, Roderick’s heart was very full. Not only of his father, but of himself and his own new future, which lay before him like a map; the map of an untraveled country —untravelea but yet not undiscovered, for there were in it more certainties than lie in the lot of many young men of his age. Boor fellow! so young, so ignorant of life and its burdens, let he thought himself quite wise and quite old, and felt his burden very heavy indeed, and himself a most unfortunate fellow, on being obliged to go back to that "meeting of cred tors” which he detested. “But I’ll enjoy myself here to the very last minute,” thought he, sat down on a heather bush—for on that high ground everything looked as if it never had rained and never would rain again, till the next time, which would probably be within twenty-four hours. Wrapping his plaid about him, he felt perfectly happy. That lovely outline of hills—he must just put it down; so. hunting in his pocket for the pencil that was always a-missing, he turned out the letters that he had crammed in there, and looked them over. None attracted him, except a blackedged one, which, opened, he found was one of the “intimations” of death, customary in Scotland, acquainting him that there had died “at Blackball, aged sixty-nine, Misstilence Jardine.” Silence Jardine! Surely a relation! Who could she be? For he knew his father and he were the last of their family. However, thinking a minute, he remembered that in the busine-s arrangements after his father's death, which, he being under age, had been managed entirely by his mother, she had told him that Blackball, the ancestral property, “a queer tumbre-down place, which nobody would car»> for,” was to be inhabited, so long its she liked, by Miss Jardine, a second cousin. This must be she who had. now died.

“1 wonder, ought I to go to her funeral?” However, con suiting the letter, which had traveled to Cambridge and back, he found this was impossible. She must have “slept with her fathers” for some days already. “Poor Cousin Silence! Wnat a queer name, by the by. I wonder whatshe was like, or if 1 ever saw her?” And then, by a sudden flash of memory, he recalled a circumstance which in the confusion and anguish of the time had entirely slipped away—how, not many hours before his father had died, there had crept into the sickroom a lady. —an old lady, nearly as old as Mr. Jardine, and curiously like him. At sight of her a wonderful brightness had come into the dying face. “Cousin Silence?” “Yes, Henry,” wai all they said, but 'she knelt beside him: and they kissed one another, and ho lay looking at her till the last gleam of consciousness faded away. After that —for he did not actually die for some hours. —she sat beside Mrs. Jardine, watching him till the end. And after the end. Roderick remembered she had taken his mother out of the yoom and comforted her, staying a little while longer, and then leaving, no one thinking or saying much about her, either at the time or afterward. Now, recollecting his father s look, and hers, too, the whole story, or possible story, presented itself to this imaginative young man in colors vivid as life, and tender as death alone can make them. And when, carelessly opening another letter, he found it was from the lawyer of this same Miss Jardine, stating that she had left him —“Roderick Henry Jardine, her second cousin once removed”—the 'whole of her small property, as also a diamond ring, “which his' father gave me many years ago,” he was deeply touched. “I wish I had known her! I wish I had had a chance of being good to her —poor Cousin Silence!” thought he. And as he sat watching “the light of the dying day,” which died so peacefully, so gloriously over the western hills, he, with his life just begun, pondered over the two lives now ended, the mystery of which he guessed at. but never could know, except that thev were safely ended.

When the sun set, going down like a ball of tire which dyed the river all crimson, and the sudden gray chill of an October twilight came, Roderick started up, a little ashamed of himself, and still more ashamed when he found he had entirely neglected to ask the time of the return train to Richerden. “Just like me, mother will say,” and, half laughing, but vexed, for it always vexed him to vex his mother, he tore along as fast as his long legs could carry him, to the railway station. The train was just going, and it was at the risk of his lile— to say nothing of a penalty of forty shillings—tnat this foolish young fellow contrived to leap into it, breathless, exhausted, having nearly killed himself in his endeavor to “do his duty. ” So he represented to himself, at least, and felt a mo"t tremendous martyr all the way to Richerden. It did not occur to him that simply looking at his watch and the time-table would saved alt But at his age we are apt to overlook the little things on which, like the coral islands of the South Sea ocean, our lives are built. How far we build them ourselves, or Fate builds for us, Gcd only knows. Tearing up in a cab to his own door (or rather his mother’s—he already began slightly to feel the difference, ringing as if he thought the house was on fire,and|being met by the imperturbable butler with the information, “Yes, sir, dinner is served; Mrs. Jardine waited half an hour, and then asked Mr. Thomson to take the foot of the table”—all this did not contribute to Roderick’s placidity of spirit. When he at last walked into that blaze of gas-light—that dazzle of crystal and plate—that strong aroma of dainty dishes and excellent wines, and clatter of conversation, which makes up a Richerden dinner-party, he was not in the best frame of mind to enjoy the same.

His mother was so busy talking, and the silver-gilt epergne was such an effectual barrier between the upper and lower ends of the table, that she never noticed that her son-in-'aw-elect quitted his place and her son slipped into it, till the deed was done. Then Roderick might have received a good hearty scoldinm.not undeserved, had not something in him—was it his father's look'/—repressed the ebullition. She mertelv said: “Oh, my son is there, I kee! Better late than never.” And tfhj dinner went on. When, the ladtX having retired, he still had to keep Iris place and “pass the bottle”—which\ he loathed —to elderly gentlemen, ay\and young ones, too, who evidently did not loathe it—listening meanwhile to talk in which, whether it was his own fault or not, he could not get ’up the smallest interest, this young Cantab—who for three years had lived in what was a little better atmosphere than that of Richerden—socially, as well as physically—was a good deal to be pitied.

So was his mother, too, when, having succeeded in luring the guests upstairs, he—her only son—went and hid himself in the drawing-room and “sulked,” as he overheard her say, lamenting over him as a black sheep, in the loudest of whispers, to a lady he particularly disliked. But it was not sulking, for he had his father s sweet temper. It was only the utter weariness of spirit, which, in uncongenial circumstances comes over the young as well as the old. And then, with the habit he had of passing over things at the time and recurring to them afterward, there came into his mind a sentence in the letter from Miss .Jardine s lawyer, explaining that in making her will she had said to him that her only other kindred were some distant cousins, living, she believed in Switzerland, whom, if they were j oor, she left to Roderick’s kindness.

“Capital idea! I’ll go straight to Switzerland and find them. It would at somothing to do.” And the mere notion of this brightened up the young fellew s spirit and warmed his heart—he was, I fear, bit a foolish young Quixote after all; so that when his mother called him to do civility to the departing guests, he came forward with an air of cheerfulness, such as he had not worn all the evening. Ay, even when he had to escort the most honored quest to the very carriage door, from an unsteadiness of gait, politely ascribed to gout, but which Roderick, with a contempt so sad to see in the young to the old, even when the old deserve it, soon perceived to be—something else. “Mother,” cried he, indignantly, as he returned to the drawing-room, where the two ladies stood on the hearth-rug of their “banquet hall deserted,” hot, weary, a little cross, and not a little glad that “it was over,” “mother, I wonder you let that old fellow enter your door! He has not an ounce of brains, and less of manners. Didn’t you see he was drunk?” “What an ugly, vular word! Ayd to say it of Sir James, who holds such a good position here, and is Mr. Thomson’s father, too! Rody, I’m ashamed of you;” “And Bella is more than ashaujed, angry. Oh, .Bell, ” and with a suijden sense of brotherly tenderness, halt regret, half compunction, he laid his hand on her shoulder, “ha.e you thoroughly considered this marriage? Are you quite sure of the young man ’pirnself? These things run in families. Suppose he should even turn out a drunkard—like this father!” “Stuff and nonsense ’”' said Bella, sharply. “And even if Sir James joes enjoy his glass—why—so do many other gentlemen. It isn’t like a common man, you know, who never knows when to step. Now, Sir James does. Hu is not ‘drunk,’ as you call it, on'y ‘merry.’ ” “Roderick,” said his mother--and when she gave him his full name he knew she was seriously displeased “the Thomsons are one of the first families in Richerden, and live in the best style. Isabella is making the most satisfactory marriage of all her sisters, and I des re you w.ll not say one word against it. ” “Very well, mother.” And with a hopeless sigh Roderick changd thee conversation. “Mother, have you thought over what I said this morning about going to Switzerland?” said he, impelled by the sad lenging of much-worried people to rup away. “Because, sin e then, 1 have found an added reason for my ourney.” And he gave her the two letters which had come on from Cambridge. “I suppose you had not heard of Miss Jardine’s death, or you would have put off the dinner-party?” “Why so? She was only a poor relation. Nobody knew anything about her here. Her death was not even put in the“newspapers. ” “Then you did know of it? But, of course, one could not mourn for a person whose death was not imror*

tan* enough to be put in the newspaper.” Mrs. Jardine looked puzzled, as she often did when her gentle-speaking “lad” spoke in that way; she could not make out whether he wa, in jest or in earnest' “Weill, go, if you like. But it's just a wild-goose chase; that's what I call it.” “So do I, mother. Only Im not the hunter; I'm the wild goo'-e, and I want to take a good long flight and itretoh my wings. Then I’ll cmne back as tame as possible, and settle down in the dullest and smoothe t of ponds.” He determined to go the very next day, to visit Blackball, which he had never yet seen, and knew little about, for his father rarely named it, though it had been the home or the Jardines for many generations. Also, they mi st have had a burial-place, for he had some recollection of his father's having once expressed a wish to be there, only his mother had overruled it in favor of the grand new cemetery on the outskirts of Richerden, where she had afterward erected a be lutiful white marble sarcophagus with an urn at the top. What matter? Henry Jarline slept well. And far away, somewhere beyond those moonlight mountains—near the very places where they might have played together as children, or walked together as young people—slept also Cousin Silence. But the .waking? If it be possible that the life to come shall heal some of the wounds of this life-oh, the heavenly waking! |TO BB CONTINUED. |

BISMARCK'S EPITAPH.

Tributes Vailed Forth by the Clianco'lor’s Pathetic Remark. The rumored i oports of Prince Bismarch’s failing health servb to recall the circumstance that soon after his retirement irom public life—the consequence of a rupture with Emperor William—he remarked pathetically: “I have only one ambition left. I should like to have a good epitaph." This mournful expression excited a good deal of comment at the time, and, curiously enough, epita hs upon the ex-Chancellor were attempted by a number of writers, although, to quote from a contemporary, “to discuss during a man s lifetime the form to be adopted for his epitaph is a questionable proceeding.” Many ot these experiments in epitaphy were very clever. Here is one that is exceptionally meaty: Bismarck Iles here, early and late He strove to make his country ureat Did he succeed? Let Sedan, Paris, tell; But silence keep on how. himself, he fell Much more conventional is the following, which, as we recollect, was submitted by a writer for the London newspaper press; Around this tomb hovers the spirit great Which for too brief a span did animate The mighty frame that silent lios below. Leaving the world to wonderment and woe, Bismarck, the lion Chancellor, whose nod The anxious nations watched, as of a god He forged an empire, swayed It In Its pride. And then, to show that he was mortal, died. And these other contributions aro not wholly without merit: 1 ruled as king, and not in vain; I tamed the Austrian and the Dane; I curbed proud France (for Europe’s good), I placed her borders where she stood; I made Germania Que and Free, I felt I saw adversity.

Look kindly on this spot Here Bismarck lies Death kissed away the terror of his eyes; And the brave heart by leisure has been made A child’s of which the world was once afraid. Cleansed is the 'blood,’ the ’iron'lost in love, And now earth's prlnco is crowned a king above. Here on the verge of Prussia’s border. Moulder the bones of Prussia’s warder; Sound may he sleep when the coming thunder Shall rock his castle walls asunder. The most graceful of the many epitaphs called forth by the ex-Chancel-lor s pathetic words appears to have leen the following: If dust ye seek and dust alone. Prince Bismarck sleeps beneath this stone; But If ye seek his soul, depart— His Germans keep that In their heart.

Ill-Mannered English Dowagers.

A writer in an English newspaper has uttered a wail concerning the degeneracy of the age, says the now York Sun, and cites examples ot the great falling off in manners in what are generally called in Great Britain the upper circles to prove it. If naif ho says is true he makes out a very good case. He asserts that in London ball-rooms one finds the chaperons, ladies often of mature years, struggling for seats like so many foot-ball men in a scramble. He objects t> what he call: “their calm insolence and their tricks and devices to get the better of one another.” He alleges that a couple of dowagers will, when seated on each side of a third, talk across her for an hour cr more so eagerly that their chins almost meet in front of the sufferer. Dowagers have offended him seriously. The critic notices the recent stringent rules at the Queen’s drawing-rooms, and says that they were necessary. Nothing milder, in his opinion, wou d check the crowding and pushing which have now converted the scene of a great state ceremonial int > a lively beargarden. Then there is the ill-mannered chrtter with which occupants of stalls and boxes at the theaters interrupt the performance. This censor of public manners tindi that the most hopeless feature is the behavior of the rising generation.

•U’Bd'Bp UJ sfofl UB >|.IUUIV The first American boys who visited Japan were set ashore with great ceremony near the city of Yeddo, or Tokio, on Thursday, July 14, 1t53. They woie the uniform of the United States navy, and every gilt button and buckle was polished till it shone like gold. They carried between them a large square enve ore of scarlet cloth, containing two beautiful round Ijoxes made of gold, each box inclosed in a larger box of rosewood, witjr locks, hinges, and mountings all trade of pure gold. Each of the gold bcxes contained a letter to the Emperor of Japan, beautifully written on vellum and not folded, butSoound in pure silk velvet. To each letter the great seal of the United States was attached with cords of interwoven gold and silk,with oendent gold tassels. The names of these hoys are not known to the writer, but it would not be surprising if some young American should to the Young People. “My father was one of heee boys.’—Harper's Young People.

Trend of the Feminine Mind.

There are many straws which show the reaching out in these djys of the feminine mind. Hero is one: In Hallowell, Me., the free library statistics for last month thow 1,141 books given out. Of these women took 407, girls 410, against 151 taken by men. and 173 by boys. ___ All the grandsons of Charles Dickens bear the name of Charles. One of them, Gerald Charles Dickens, son of Henry Fielding Dickens, Q. C., has recently entered the British navy. We don’t know whether it is woman, suffrage or not that cau es it, but have you noticed these dsvs how so >n after marriage a man begins to fade?

HOME AND THE FARM.

A DEPARTMENT MADE UP FOR OUR RURAL FRIENDS. The Atrlcu'.turel Department Shows How Wheat Robs the Soil- -English -Method of Preserving Grapes-Table for Sorting Beans—liuw to Make a Neat Piazza. How Wheat Robs the Soil. The wheat crop of 1893 was estimated by the Department of Agriculture to be worth at the farm St 1 . Hi I per acre. To say nothing about tho labor and other cost of producing ■ this pitiful yield, the crop took away from the soil fertilizing elements worth moie than 8» per cent of the entire vaiue of tho crop as given , above. That is to say, according to analyses made at the 1 niversity of California by Professor TLlgard the amount of the nitrogen, phosphoric acid, and potash removed from the soil by a yield of eleven bushels of wheat per a le would amount to $5.32 at current cost of such substances. The exact figures as given by Professor Hilgard are as follows: For 20 bushels of wheat, 7*. 85 pound i potash, 11.90 pounds phosphoric acid, | and 24 pounds nitrogen. lor 3,000 ; pounds of straw, 30.08 pounds potI ash, 7.90 pounds phosphoric acid and |lB pounds nitrogen. The cost of these substances per pound is given !at 15 cents for nitrogen, 5 cents for potash, and 0 cents for phosphoric j acid. To sum up then, we have a necessary manurial cost of $5.32 for producing a crop of wheat averaging ] eleven bu&nels per acre. As stated, | this amounts to more than 88 per cent of the value of the crop grown, harvested, threshed, and stored at the farm. As a matter of course, these manurial ingredients or tholr equivalents must lie restored to the soil sooner or later, or a still in re discreditable yield than eleven bushels per acie will surely ensue. It the straw be returned to the soil a considerable part may be thus saved, but by sending tho grain away from the farm the eleven bushels per aero permanently removes from the soil fertilizing elements worth $2.80 per acre, or more than 42 percent, of tho entire value of tho crop In the light of those facts, how long ban American farmers continue to duce wheat at a farm value of' s(>.lo per acre? Enlarging a Wlicelbai row's Usefulness. It is often desirable to wheel away from a lawn or garden,, light rubbish, straw, hay, or vinos, for which purpose the ordinary wheelbarrow does not give sufficient accommodation. So often is it desired to wheel away

WHEELPARROW WITH BACK FRAME,

light but bulky loads of this sort, that such an arrangement as is shown in the illustration from the American Agriculturist, will be found very serviceable. It is simply a light rack frame that can bo attached to the barrow in the same way that the ordinary sides are attached, the addition of a couple of sockets near the handles being tho only necessary addition to the barrow in order to accommodate the rack. The construction is so plainly shown in the sketch that a ided explanation is not needed. Grapes in Winter. Glasses such as are shown our Illustration are one of the late-t schemes of grape growers in England to keep the fruit from drying during the winter. The jar Is made of clear glass, and, having a wide mouth, water can easily bo added from a

TO KEEP GBAPES FRESH ALL WINTER.

small watering can as required, without the trouble of taking It down or r moving the grapes. The weight of the bunch will press the immersed end of the stem against the upper side of the bottle, and so prevent Its slipping out. It is always best to leave about eighteen inches of stem beyond the bunch when the grapes are cut, as otherwise the berries are apt to crack through—absorbing too much of the water when first stored. It >s well also to cut off the immersed end about one j in three weeks to maintain a free passage for absorption. An Easily Made Piazza* Tpo many country homes are urn provided with shade, where one may get fresh air without sunshine during the warm months qt summer. Many think they cannot allord to build piazzas, while others object to

AN INEXPENSIVE SUMMER VERANDA.

having these permanent structures on the ground because they shut out the sunshine in the winter when it is specially needed. This is certainly ope strong objection to permanent piazzas, unless they can be constructed against such a part of the house that no room may be shaded by their roofs. The Illustration, however, shows how a summer veranda can be constructed at small cost of time or money—a veranda that will g.ve shade in summer, and in winter will keep no sunshine put of one's

housa A pern anent platform is laid bes. re the dooi, and above this is arranged a light frame, well biaced, that can be quickly taken down in the fall. This frame is covered with awning cloth, which is inexpensive, and, if cared for, will last many years. Of course the shape and size can be altered to suit the sue or shape of the house. Table for SOrtin; Brann. The culture of beans is rapidly !h----creasing, as they generally tommand a protltable pi ice in the market. In

BEAN SORTING TABLS FROM ABOVE.

thrashing and winnowing the beans it is almost impossible to remove all pieces of pods and vines, and the shrunken or diseased beans, hemo handsorting is necessary to put the beans in the clean condition which secures the best prices. An ingenious table on which to sort the beans is shown in the illustration, from sketches by E. P. Judson. Fig. 1

RIDE VIEW OF BEAN SORTING TABLE.

piesentsa view of the table from above, showing the sieve and the spout A side view is shown in Fig. 2, with the drawers for refuse and bad beans, beneath the sieve. This useful contrivance may be made in portable shape, and tho legs can bo folded so that it can be brought into the house on cold, stormy days. Tho legs are bolted to the sides with one b It each. The height oi the table can be varied by making the legs slant more or less, and then fastened by a wooden pin In holes bored to suit. A slide keeps the beans from pouring onto the sieve too rapidly.— Orange Judd Farmer. 1 preying Pototo Vines. The Ohio station recommends a spraying with tho Bordeaux mixture for both potato rot and potato bugs. Their compound Is (i pounds blue vitrol, 4 poundu limo to 22 gallons of water, adding J'pound London purple to each 100 gallons of the mixture. The spraying dates are May 28, June 2f’, June 29, and July 1(1. Last year blight appeared about tho middle of June, and made bad work with tho unsprayed vines. The sprayed vines showed much loss Injury, remaining green after tho others were dead, and yielded a profitable crop, while the unsprayed portion of th, j field was practically a failure Tho tubers on the treated portions were but little affected by scab.

The Farmer and Fertilizer. For yearn past farmers have op posed the use of fertilizers because of the low prices realized by them for their staple crops, saying that with whbat selling at 40 cents there is no money in it anyhow. Hut just there is where they ml-take Ten bushels to the acre at 40 cents moans $4 at the mill or the elevator, but twenty bushels at the same price bring SB, and thirty bushels sl2; and ail that is realized over and above tho $4 is profit (less the extra expense for fertilize s.) There’s the rub. With a low rate of production the farmer realizes barely tho cost of seed and labor, but wiih increa ed production comes the possibility of profit. Putting ZOO pounds of fertilizer to the acre, at a cost of $3 is very apt to double the average product the first year, without exhausting tho fertilizer; the same quantity itfkled every year for a few years tml a proper rotation of crops practiced, and the product would be trebled or quadrup ed. Surely the manufacturer is right in saying; •‘These bones shall rise again.” Ke p thelSoll Busy. The conviction is gaining griuna that no practice of old-time tanning was more wasteful than that of having the land naked while it was being cu livated in preparation for another crop. Something growing on the land at all times must be the motto. Not only does the green crop add to tho soil's fertility bui it prevents what was on the soil from being wasted. In some English experiments the waste from drainage water represented a loss of 280 pounds of nitrate of soda per acre In a single year. That is an amount which, if applied to a crop, is often thought a fair dressing. Yet it was what is lost by leaving the land uncovered. The best i rops to cover n ked places are the legumes, peas, beans, and crimson clover. All these are nitrogin traps, and help to make the land rich on which they grow.

I arm Note*. Grasshoppers make a good egg food. As a rule splncch is a very profitable crop ‘Overfeeding is the most fruitful cause of a failure, to lay. In butter color and Uavor have no relation to ea h other. The ashes pf the corn-cob contain a large amount of potash. It is said that fowls that lay white eggs are more prolific than those which lay dark eggs. A great deal of wet land along the banks of streams and ponds can be used for growing the basket willow. A solution of sll’cate of soda is said to be a perfect preservation of eggs and does not injure them in any way. An eight-frame hive for bees is now preferred to the ten-frame Langstroth hive, which has been so long in use. ,• There is no better grain for poultry anytime of the year than wheat, except when fattening. When ready to fatten corn should be used. The most expensive fertilizer to the farmer is nitrogen, pnd this cost he can reduce on his farm by growing clover, cow peas and green crops for turning under, for the purpose of renovating hid soil ... l

HUSTLING HOOSIERS.

ITEMS GATHERED FROM OVER THE STATEAn Interesting Summary of the More Important Doing* of Our Neighbors—Wed. dings and Deaths—Crimes. Casualties, and General Indiana News Notes. Minor State Items. COLUMBUS police are now uniformed in metropolitan style. South Bend will probably organize another militia company. Scarlet lever has broken out in epidemic form at Brooklyn. The famous Robv park prize fight cases cost Lake County $1,945 10. Fort Wayne authorities are still fighting the Chicago Sunday Sun. South Bend is pluming herself at prospect of securing a un on railroad de; ot. Mrs. Joseph R. .Tones, near Muncie, is suf ering with hydrophobia, caused by a cat's bite. Dick Goodman, the notorious highwayman, was sentenced to five years in tho pen at Anderson. His wealth is estimated at $50,000. A. Garboden, a farmer near Decatur, was gored to death by a vicious bull. This is the same animal that killed George Spangler two week i ago. Wm. Deckard, well known farmer near Bloomington, was swindled out of a large sum of money by a man who left a stolen horse and buggy as security. At Marion the 14-year-old son of M H. Kaylor was proliublv fatally shot by the accidental discharge of an old revolver with which the boy was playing. John Artis, a colored carpenter, aged 70, fell from a scatfold at Sharpsville, Howard County, and was instantly killed. A wife and seven children survive. Mann Emily, aged 2tl years, who resides with his father on a farm southeast of Seymour, built a fire of some under! rush und when it had got under good bond way he took an epileptic lit. Falling into tho fire he was so badly burned that he died. The Big Four train to Indianapolis picked up tho dead body of Robert Amos lying on the t ack near Niles. Tho corpse was horribly mangled, and it is supposed that Ames was run down and killed by freight train No. 40, or fell under the wheels. Deceased was alxiut 40 years of ago. Oharllh Thomas, 11-vear-old son of Allert Thomas of Martinsville, bled to death recently, from a small scratch on his hand. This is the third son in the Thomas family that hits bled to death. Tlie peculiar disease is known as hoemophllia. The daughters, of whom there are three in the family, are not afflicted. It. is a popularity of tho disease that it is transmitted to sons without interruption. Mrs. Thomas’ throe brothers died in a similar manner. Patents have been granted to the following Indianlas: Charles H. Dale, Hartford City, continuous cut off register for steam engines; Joshua A. Hadley, Bradl, azsignor of one-half to W. F. Maurer, Harmony, Ind., lump; Franklin W. Mosure, Vera Ortiz, and J. Warner, Linn Grove, pesthole augor; Chas. F. Parks and A. A. Hamilton, Muncie, fence: Peter Shelienbaek. assignor to Liberty Manufacturing Company, Liberty, machine for finishing eccentric surfaces.

John Gillen, of Kokomo, was fatally injured at Russiaville. Ho whs sent there with two large plate window glass from the Armstrong, Landon & Hunt Company, at Kokomo, and was assisting to unload them from the dray. He was sitting on the sliding board holding one of the props when the heavy' upright box slid off to the ground and caught the man, mashing him down. The ribs wero broken loose from the vertebral column, and the column injured. The physicians say he cannot recover. He Is a colored man, single, and has been tn the employ of the Armstrong company for over thirteen years. He is deaf and could not hear the warning that was given him. A corps of engineers have just completed u trip up the St. Joseph River and its branches in the interest of the project of Toledo capitalists to build a canal to Chicago. The route as shown by the surv.ey Is from Chicago across Lake Michigan to Michigan City, to Elkhart, thence through a series ot lakes and rivers to the Maumee, close to the State line down the Wabash canal, taking in defiance and Napoleon,’ Ohio, and making Toledo the terminus. Dr. W. T. Harr's yf Elkhart, has been making an exhaustive study of the subject. He has practically covered every inch of the ground and has made a survey of the territory which such a canal would cover. His investigation has made him a firm believer in the future of such a project. Mrs. Lizzie Kepner of Now Albany, has engaged an attorney and will file suit against the heirs of Nelson Fordice, who died a few weeks ago at Shoals. She claims she was married to Mr. Fordice in 1884, and at his request the marriage was kept a secret. Mr. Fordiee was a well-known resident of this city. He accumulated a large fortune, a greater portion of which he lost at Shools in the smelting business. The friends of Mr. Fordice claim her story is a fabrication Invented for the purpose of securing a / portion of his estate. The only heir/ to the estate is a nephew, who is ad/ mlnistrator. The estate will be worth about 5.0.00 J after all claims are paid, and consists of land in Martirr and Boone counties. Mrs. KopneFs claim will be opposed bitterlv. Her husband. Barney Kepner, secured a divorce in 187>, on the grounds that she kept a disorderly house. She is about 65 years old and Mr. Fordice was 73 years old when he died. At Shelbyville, Harry Schultz, the loyear-old son of John Schultz, jumped on a freight train going west on his way going to school. His hand slipped from the ladder, and he fell under the wheel and was ground to pieces. The 12-months-old daughter of Mr and Mrs. Roscoe C. Griffith of Muncie, was seriously burned by natural gas in a very peculiar manner. The little tot had been left in a room alone. Admiring some red-hot clay brick in the shape of potatoes, she tried to get one of them out. She succeeded in getting one out, but her hands and face were frightfully burned. William Moore, a prominent contractor of Lafayette, was thrown from his vehicle, falling on his shoulder and head, breaking his neck. His team frightened at a cow. His son was seriously bruised, being pitched out of the wagon. The Grant County Fish and Game Protective Association has been organized for the purpose of preventing the illegal killing of game and fish, and, in conjunction with other organ!gations throughout the State, to have certain beneficiary laws passed by the Legislature. The officers are: President, Charles Halderman; Secretary, George G. Wharton; Treasurer, Frank Rigdon.