Greencastle Banner, Greencastle, Putnam County, 22 September 1881 — Page 7

isyniE Doon.w AY

DAVID CKAIIAN^AUGE.

; Clu.* 1iouh« nnxiou.^iy waitln,,; | or ti u . i„,.s S _ ingerwlio brought liei th^ ulspatches s\w wa* nun-h i«:'italfd l»y ffarsof tla* wood vet <f iiuis tenHCiouKly *o liope.-C’k*vtUaiul’dU-pAtcii, Aug 17., Mother, mother, In the doorway. Waiting to n\v< id, WaU ldug. wati'hn’iii lor a tm ssai;e. Tearful, trustluglu tin* Lord. Would our wealtl: of lovo <- ( ,uM nerve von Would a peoj>!e’s pi l■ s could serve you And good clieer ad'ord. Mot her, mother, in thedoonvay, Otiee you nurs«*d a baby boy. Taught his little IWd to toddle. Taught tils helpi’es* Imnds to toy With Ids piH.vti log-, pratiling.sinntnflL i our young iu< >od beguilini With hi**iiiiantJoy. Moth or, mother, in the doorway 4 You who showed him virtue’s pnfh, O'uided .ihlldiuHJd’s peril Is, Through th< ways removed from \ rath, Well ih %t sim n pays your guarding, Love with /lelu-si lov« rewarding, in manhoods aiiermath. Mother, mother, in the. doorway, Watching in the n >outhle glow, On your vhite le« lvs >eeiu to linger, Kisses set there long ago, Ami with lator k: ses blending, Ah the Nation’s ruler, bending, tiroeta the mother’s brow. Aii>t 1 mrTmotiier, in the doorwaj', Htriken’with a mo the*”.-, grief. You an liookint where the lonely— We are told—shall ttml relief; Looking far beyond the valley, Toward the held where soldiers raliy From the battle brief. Motiier, mother, in the doorway, Oountge! iti thisiiourof w<*e. For the nation’s soul is with him, rnougii the waters ebb or How; With our hist’ry his Is writt'Mi, And our hearts wltn yours are smltoet), Audour heads are low. Mother, mother, in the doorway, Great his work and hrsvely done, On t he country’s roll of honor Froud the plaeo he nobly won; We, ids name who dearly cherish, Would not let the soldier perish •• -v.Could nian save your sou. \V AMJU T«»N , Aug ”.s, 1 S-Sl.

WHOLESALE FARMING. A Thirty Thousand Acre Wheat Field — Shipping Three Trains a Day—How tno Big Dairy mple Farm is Run.

Kw-nler part < his time at the office, ^ planning a/iili»leulatiug for tlie t I'CMilt- from tie smallest outlay. Tlie suiierinVendP’.’s are re.-ponnil'le for tlie g'H»i order of heir men, stock and machinery, and jere is a decided rivalry between then -s to which can produce

tlie liiegtst er o.

When tlie ji ivving commences in tlie Spring tlie imn go out in gangs, each tokimr C4o cers, under the direction of a foreman, wit, rides along on horse back to see tb t tbe work is done properly. Kverytlttig is done in military style. It is a attery of plows, instead of artillery, aid before starting they all draw up inline and thoroughly tnsiarted by the foreman and machinist, to see that the are in good order. Tbe ilows are all loubled, and are drawn four liorm. At tbe word of tlie captain tliey s irt, add go round a field of (i+i acres', w njh is exactly four miles in distance,tei r twelve plows abreast At tlie end of die furrow, eight miles, tbe plowshare lift in tlie soil, tbe men mount their b r-es and ride to beadquarters for dimer. After the horses are fed they remount return to the plows and go atitind tbe 640 acres two or three times nore before supper-time. At the close d the day tbe horses^ plows,anil hanessare iuspectisi acain, and if any r•pairs are needed, the blacksmith, sjdler or farrier make

them during tie nigld. , . , ,

The same rmtine is followe,! at seeii , ' . Iimise frequently until be moveil ing time and doing tbe harvest. Tin ’ a ' 1 ' K' sibiaily lost sight of him seif-binding haw esters throw tlie bun- | 1 , "'bulled Ur'loan, iiut it was nn-dli-s of rija- gnin upon the ground 1 !’ <, " s| bh‘ t') repny ibo good that little wlo.r.. tliev ;o-t nir.lreiino aliii olMcwlio ' 11 Ktudlless liid me, Ullli I rulliet

where tliey arc-picked up and placed in large shocks totwait the wagons which tiausisirt them to thresliers, which arc always plac‘sl w closely a- (s.srible to the cars. Afte tlireshing, tile straw is

carried away aid bunie<i.

It sounds vei, large, but it is nevertheless a fact, tiat tin* plows snd burvwtei i regular rly make a trip of font niiU-s long wit) ut stopping. A furrow eight miles in 1 ,gth is considereii a very fair moral .g’a work,but ten miles

Fargo tVM’. Ctiicago luler-Oeenn. I stooii this morauigat tlie cantor ol the largest farm in the world; the largest pieoe< t territory ever cultivated under the direction of » -iugle man. As far as tlie eye ennht r-.« li, uortii, soutli. east or oe-t, there w»» uothing vlsihle hut tlie hiUi-.t of tiiue sky; the reddest of red liarns, the gris-t awk-ward-looking tbreshers, *iih their moke-liegri:ned eugines les-ide them he whirring harvesters and miles after

miles of wheat.

We asked for Mr. Dalrymple, and he comedown fiom some room alsive, a slender, quiet looking man, with a |s-n behind his .sir, v hotu you would judge to tie a school master or olergyman at siglit. His liand- were soft and white (—more aevustomed to the Isa'k or |ien than tlie plow—ami ids fais 1 , where it was not covered with lieard. was not burned so much as mine. He met us cordially, invited us to spend the day sand dine, and suggested that In* would “ ' [•.iieil up to drive us

have a team hitc over Uic place.

I noticed he id ways calle«l it “the

place."

In the meantime I asked him u few qiuwtions. The tirst one was to the

yield tliis year.

“It was a late spring,” said Dalrym |4,.. “At tlie time when wo wen usually putting in a crop tire place for miles around here was covered with water from the melted enow, and vou could have sailed a beat over a m id where now there is wheat that will vdeld thirty bushels to tlie acre. 1 feared at one time thatthecrop would be a failure, but am very positive now that the average per acre will not Lie

below twenty bushels.”

“Have you <old your wheat?” “Our plan is diflerent from the or

dinary method. We are sending alxiut

three train loads a day to Duluth.” “H<>w many bushels is that?” “About 80,000 bushels. We load

vessel at Duluth every two days and semi it to Buflalo, where it is sold on

Us arrival at the market price.”

“What is that?”

“The price to-day,” said Mr. Dal rymple, consulting' tlie telegram, “is $1.27 at Buflalo. Freights are atmut twenty-seven cents, so it nets us about

$1 a bushel.

“What will your crop amount to “I am expecting about 600,<MK) bushels. Besides that we have alsiut 00,000 bushels of oats w hich we keep for “Do you keep stock enough to cat up

80,000 bushels of oats?”

Mr. Dalrymple smiled pleasantly and remarked that MM horses and mules

ate up a good many oale.

••How much does your crop cost

you?”

“It oosts us alsiut $6 an acre to pr< duce » crop when we use our own stock and pay cur men by tlie month but when we idre men and teams by the day it costs irs auuit $s an acre. ' “What do vou pay your meu?” "We pay $30 a mouth for regular hands, and $2 i>or day for extra hands

during haivest.”

"What amount of machinery have

you going hi day? ’

. “Two liundnsl self-hiuding harvesters and (hil ly steam threshers. These two hundred harvesters out an average of ? 800 acres a day. and the threshers hiiri'i out about tiO.'OOO bushels aday. As -fast as it is threshed we bag the wheat, isirt it over then to the curs, empty tlie

Iruiti le

from the ague, nor worked an hour for the last month. “I felt so blue that I sat down on a pile of ratl'oad ties ami leaned my elbows on my knees, with my head on nay hands, and cried like a great boy out of sheer homes! 'kuess and discour-

agement.

‘ Pretty soon one of the railroad men came along and said in a voice that sounded like sweet music in my ears, for I hadn’t found much real sympathy out th re, although the boys were all good to mein their way: ‘You have b en having a rough time of it,and you

must let me help you out.’

“I looked up and there stood Jim Kendrick, with his month’s pay in his hand. He took cut from tlie roll of bills a SJil note ami handed it to me. “I knew be h*d a ^sickly wife and two or three children, and that lie had a hard time of it himself, to pull through from month to mouth, so I said, iiaif ashamed of the tears that were streaming down my face: ‘Indeed I cannot take the mogey. You need

every cent of it yourself.’

“•‘Indeed, you will take it, man,’ said Jim. ‘You will be all right in a few days, ami then you can pay it back. Now come home with me to supper and see tlie babies; it will do

j you good.’

“I took the bank note ami accepted the invitation, and after that went to

guess Jim Kendrick's little girl here will not want for anything if I can

heln it.”

Then turning again Vo t l, e child, whose blue eyes were wide enough now, tbe engineer said to her: “I'll take you home with me, Bessie dear, when we get up t“ Wayuo. My wife will tlx you up, and we will write and liud out whether those Vermont relations really want you or not. If

is nothing for uraiteruonii’s diversion, j do, Mary or 1 sIikI! go on wHh Aw o.ur ttiu ,.r ill., furm ww iw I you. But if they don’t care much

As imar the outer of tlie farm as is convenient a store-house is place-1, in charge ofacomnlssaryjaml tsiok-ke-qi-er. Each ib*y ilia superintendent ot a division issues ‘equisitious for supplies of seed, or foil., or machinery, and

these are serves upon the storekeeper, , , . , who keeps a double-entry set of ledgers | ll ’ l,a1 !' " ^“’’ded, engineer b rank for each, and a; the end of a days I ''anrslieil out of the car door and went threshing the crop returns are made to f, ' r Y n l ni to wiping Ins eyes him, so that M. Dalrymple, at anv , w nl ‘ h '" whlU ' »“' ‘••’'“Retime, by examining the books, can tor and sympathetic pw-eugerH could ascertain the ex icnaesof every division Jl” 1 "'press tlie tears this touc nng Id- . Tf^. .ill t il, ' 111. t V I - J • 1 ■ I • '

you. Jiut if they

alsiut having you, you shall stay with us and lie our little girl, for we have none of our own. You hsik very much like your father, God bless his mem-

ory.”

Just then the train whistled. “All

and the crop ii .ias produced.

This year it is expected that the 30.(KiO acres will produce dOii.OOOtiiusIn lsot graiu. The cost of production averages i-T an acre, or ^lU.nou. Tim wls»it is subi at aU avall^o Uot price of 1*1 ]s r l/usm-J, Uiei - <!oi-a tic: proiil of Mr. l>airymple’e little garden in ISM. which if said to tie a poor year, will is 1 tlie die-

tic cpismie evoked during the twenty minutes’ stop at Allen’s Junction.

—

President Gariicld and the Colt. Captain Henry, Marsha! of Lire IXsU'iid of Columbia, tells tbe following st.>ry of the President when he was nine years old; “His mother did not own a horse, and he thought there was uothing in

.j |sr cent, upon the entire invest- wlio owned the farm next to his moth-

men h

There will lie natural inquiry in (Ids oounection as to why steam is not used instead ot horse power. I asked Mr. Dai rymple. He said: We nave experimented with steam, but have not found it practicable except in the wh3‘ of stationary engines; and again oats are cheaper than fuel. Wood is very scarce, ( cal costs us practically nothing. We sow and reap our outs, lietween times, when the men and stock would otherwise lie idle. The oust of mirses ami mules is no greater than the price of machinery, the wear snd tear is less, and during tbe winter time we send our men and horses to tlie lumber regions * here they more than pay for themselves.

An Incident.

Mrs. Annie A. Preston.

"Gars stop twenty minutes for refreshments,” called out Gonductor Richardson at Allen’s Junction. Their, ns tlie train came to a dead halt, he jumped down, and ran along tlie platlorrn to wiiere the engiue stood, and

said to tlie engineer:

Frank, I want you to come hack with me to the tirst passenger coach, iiuu see a little girl liiat I hardly know what to make of." The engineer wiped his hands, donned ids coat, changed Ids little black, greasy cap for his soft, felt hat—taking these “dressup” articles from tbe tender-box, where an engineer always has something stowed away for an emergency—and went back to the coach as requested. Heentered the coach, and made his

wav to tlie seat where the kind-hearted | sidled away, until, (hiding that the the

er’s, had a wild, four-year-old colt, wnich had never been handled at all. He ran loose in a pasture near ids mother’s house. The boy, by gradual degrees, got tile animal so he would come to tha fence to lie rubbed and petted. He continued to pet him for many days, and finally used to climb the fence and rub. his back. At length lie put ids bare foot over the top of the fence and u|ioii the colt’s 1 wick.The. colt crouched somewhat, and did not seem to relish tlie proceeding, but still did not run away. The colt had at tirst been.disposed to bite every time lie was touched,and the boy now thought lie bail so fur tamed tlie colt that the next day he would attempt to ride. By tlie most gradual stages the ac t of mounting was accomplished. The boy was at bis post on tlie fence in good time, and the colt came forward for his daily dose of petting. The attempt was made by the youth to get on peculiarly good terms with Ids brute companion. He rublied and patted and scratched him. Finally the bare foot was placed upon the back, and the leg slipped gradually down upon the opposite side of the animal, and in an instant he was on tli** spot where saddle had never been. The colt was as wild as UreUkrane steed to whose

back Ma/.eppa was tied.

“Ho Inokiil ns Ilioin;h the K|M'e<Hof thought Wore in liis limbs: but bn was wild, Wild astho wild deor,;jmd iijitaught t

With Hpur and bridle undetlled.”

“The tsiy plseed Ids hands firmly in the mane of the colt, while the latter at tlie first crouched low down and

sacksL and send away the train loads

daily.” ,

“Wheredo you keep your men? ’ “If you had'been here at 5 o’clock this morning you could have seen Mien at breakfast. We keep quite a

hotel, with forty cooks."

Mr. Dalrymple explained at length how this enormous liusiness iscondueted. The Sh.UHt acres under cultivation .*re divided into five divisions of 0,000 •**>*• each, under superintendents, who responsible directly to Mr. DalrvmiJe Ue commander-in-chief. Each of Ohs** regiments are divided into buiulIcais; with a foreman or major, who Iras oharge of 2,000 acres. Under him are three companies, oaoh liaving a captedn, and cultivating a section,

which ‘s 04o acres of laud.

lieoh superintendent plants his crop and harvests it, reporting from Urns to time *<> Mr. Dalrymple, who directs and aveneec tb« whole, imt spends the

conductor sat talking to a bright-look-ing little girl about 0 years old, oddly dressed in a woman’s shawl and bon-

net.

Several of tbe passengers were grouped around tbe seat, evidently much interested in the cluld, who wore usud, prematurely old countenance, but seemed to be neither timid nor confused. "Here is the engineer,” said tlie conductor, kindly, as Frank upiieared. She lieh. up her hand to him, with a winning smile breaking over her pinched little face and said: “My papa was an engineer liefore lie Oecuuie sick and went to live on a farm qi Montana. Heisdead, and my mamma is dead. She died first before Susie and Willie. My paiui used to tell me after he should oe dead there would be no one to take care of me, ami then 1 must go on the cars and go hi his old home in Vermont, ami lie said if the conductor wouldn't let me ride because I hadn't any ticket, 1 must ask for the engineer, and tell him I was James Kendrick’s little girl, and that lie used to run on the M and G Road.” The pleading blue eyes were no a' full of tours, but she did not cry after the man nor of children in genciHl. Engim er Frank now quickly stooped and kissed her very tenderly,and then, as he brushed the tears away from his own eyes, said: “Well, my dear, you are little Bessie Kendrick? It is my opinion a merciful Providence guided you on Isiard this train.” “Then turning to the group of passengers, he went on: “I knew Jim Kendrick, the father of this little girl, well. He was a man out of ten thousand. When I Hist come to Indiana— before I got acclimated—I wa« sick a great isn't of the time so that I could not work, ami I got homesick and di.— oouraged—could uot keep my Isiard bill |ui<i up, not to mention my doctor's b'JI and didn’t much care whether I lived or uot.” “One day when the t«fty wr came along, and the men were getting their monthly wages, there wasn’t a cent coming to rue, for I hadn’t been free

load was firmly fixed u|kui ids .back, he liegan a series of most vigorous rearings and kicking*. Fiudng that

TOOIUTTERLY JAMMED UTTER How tho Esthetic Gommunrngs of Two Lovers Wore Rudely Interrupted. Nesr York Omphlc. ‘T have the—er—appreciation of It, William, ami I trust I have the soul; l ut—er—” amt her esthetic eye dropjied languidly into tlie bosom of the lone sunflower which she was holding by tbe neck between her white forefinger and her dazzling thumb. “I catch—that is—I catch yawre idjaw,” said William with a sigh which six'ike volumes of closely printed matter; “we lack only expression; it’s too utterly utter for utterance—but no— let us fix our sole thought upon Botticelli.” Tliey were wandering upon tlie shore of the sound at dear old Bhlppou, which is over against Darien, which is in Connecticut. There nature had been lavish indeed in sand, though strictly declining to make much of a beach in that quarter. It was a sad and lonely stretch, a crooked and treacherous one, constructed chiefly of old clam-hake-. Yet the long, fair curves of Etheliuda’s nether extremities passed her safely over the debris and far above the home of thai somewhat unreliable clam for which Hie spot is justly fatu-

ous.

As for William, his skeleton did lilt along the shore with graceful equanimity, though now anil then he gave an inland shy as the brine threatened bis artistic pumps. His long, block coat might have suggested a clergyman out of imsine-s but lor his slender cane and artistic cap. Tbe latter was made after the style of Massaeeiiv—an ancient artist oi tbe war of 1812, or ratherlsix—it doe* not matter much which, only he Ma-saecio) was an an-

tique—antique and shabby.

And she! Well, it would he gratifying indeed to excavate a few points about her style for those who will “take up the antique” this winter. Her dress was a long and heavy green curtain, worn slightly at the knees and trimmed with faded, tawny yellow. A» oversk^rt—aleo of yellow—started from linger the ears, passed transveraely acroxs the front, ami ended in a point at thekuee. A girdle confined these gunuoiiv- loosely to tire figure as high in the w»i t or che-t, as it could be persuad'd to .-’ay. Just how the garments weit gathered behind must remain a rayslvy, aa from the napeof tile neck th' re depended a short cloak | of deep n’.il dusty re 1 , which Ihqu-od 1 uneasily betimes, yet made no disci os-1 ure* Materials unknown, yet all of !

high OJ'tiquitv,

“Ah! rile,’ rlif excVomed.us her eye slowly swept the horiNm, now ilt-ep-ened into twilight; “erstwhile aflame with flickering spray—o million tiny rainbows; vet now so sweet and aumner—so infinitely infinite, so—er—

ab!”

“Yes, sweet Kthelimla, those wuathvis, wavy waves—unuuerwable as— intensely inttnsifisd—so vewy—vewy —aw.” thus chipped he in. To ate her and go out* lieller. Such was hit

object.

“So void.” she said, “aiul vugtiu; so very—very—why, William, is ihat a little skill out there?” “I’ll be hanged if it isn’t,” said tlie young man, surprised back into the present century. And he watched it ioug and with evident relish.” aa (he reporters say, somewhat frequently, “Afloat, afloat,” cried she. “Oh! to flout forever on the bosom of an ideal sea, far, far away—Rock away.” She slipped up a little on tbe last word, imt covered herself with glory by promptly murmuring: “How sweetly sweet in sweetness, sWecUad William.” This recalled William's attention to

business.

“Oh! life,” lie ejaculated; “how like unto the sea—how dark tlie deepened darkness of the darkiu s* of tlie deep, my Netheliuda.” This hr said with

mu< h aplomb.

“Yes, but oh! how evanescent; how —how—nhiiuiuery; how grand, yet how—er—eluding; yet a day—a—a— flame of—er,” and she languished oil

into another infinite.

“How sbimmery, Indeed,” said Wil-

liam vacantly.

Then they paused, but tbelr souls, like John Brown’s, were moving to-

wards the inevitable end.

“Tell me,” she said, “of dear Angelico, of Botticelli’s fame, and then of my Giotto—I love them so very—yes, indeed—eo lovely. I would wander, sadly wander, like this sweet flower—

so ambiguously lovely.”

“We will l>e seated awhile, raid William, turning over in his mind the

was such a helpful listener. And to' Uncle Tim’s compliment he replied, “You told me that you thought it was at the time in the way you listened to it; though, for that matter, you always seem to be interested. I don’t suppose you know what a comfort such a hearer is to a minister. If all the congregation was like you, I think it would turn my poor sermons into good ones.” “Thank you,” said Uncle Tim. "I don’t always get the hang of everything that’s said, lint I should get lews if I didn’t give attention. An’ I always say to myself, ‘The minister, he works hard to write his sermons, an’ if folks don’t listen to ’em, it’s pretty discouraging.’ An’ I says, ‘You can’t put much in the contribution lx>x, Tim, an’ you can’t talk in prayer-meetin,’ but you can count one in listenin’; you can try to ’preciate what other folks do.’ ” “The talent for appreciating is an excellent one to have," remarked theininister. “Well as I look at it, it’s one one as isn’t denied to any I sidy,” said Unode Tim. “An’if it’s tbe only one I’ve got. I’ll try not to wrap it in a napkin. When Dt-ueon Mason does me good by one of his exiierience talks in prayer-meetin’ 1 think its no more than right that he should know it. P’raps he has times of thinkiii’ that he can’t say anything w orth while, ami it stair’s to reason that he can talk better if he knows he’s doing somebody some good. An’ when Widder Hatch is makin’ such a gritty liirlit to keep her children together, an’ give ’em an "iucatiou, I think tnebbe it make* it a little easier for herjto stand up to it if a neighbor drops a word of ’preciation once in a while.” The minister said nothing, but there was a look <>f “predation” on his face, and | I Tide Tim continued : “Tlie other day | I see the young school ma’am was lookin’ worn out and sober-like. I ’rnagined them big boys from tbe Holler was worryiu’ the life nut of her. An’ I did’ut know how I could help tnat. But a! noon 1 just went down to the school house a purpose to tell her how nice your graii’sou wusgettiu’ along with Ids ’ritliuretie. An’ she said it was better than half a dozen cups of tea too, for cheerin’ heriij«—she did. ’An when 1 see Hanford’s boy take a little Irish girl's part that other Isiys were tormentin’, an’ they jeerin’ him, I went up to him an’ 1 says, 'Uncle Tim’snothin’ but awood-sawer, but lie knowsenough to see that you've got tlie stuff of a gentleman in you ‘ You see old folks don’t notice the young enough. An’ Uicre,s Jim Brady, a drinklu’, card-playin',shootlu’-m.itdi creutur', who goes around a good deal like a dog without any owner. He kii.iw , fc'ks despise him. But Jim’s ri.r’it bai.ily with tools, and when I Uioe my «w to him to have it filled, an’ tell him he does that job Ix tter'u any other man I know, I think it helps him to have a little more respect for himself, I do. You see its dreadfully i-a-y to look at faults- at fault- in chiidreu, an’ faults in hired folks, an’ faults in tavern-keepers, an’ faults in prayer-mcetiu’s. But, an 1 look at it, we’d do a good deal better to think more about the good things in ’em.

—

Turned White from Terror.

this was not likely to accomplish tlie j points ot pre-Raphaelitic art, “and desired eud, the colt started an fast as | thou, sweet dream of sad Angelico, he could run across tho field in the shall sit down Issiide me. We will

direction of a large oak tree w ith wide spreading branches which came down eloae to tlie ground. Th< boy mode up his mind that be was destined to be swept oft'by tlie oak, and he deteruiin ed U> escape such a fate. He accordingly let go of the mane and gt.idually s 11 piiod back and down over the rump of the colt a* lie ran. Just as he struck tlie ground tlie colt gave a most vigerous kick with both feet. Thu l«>y felt tho breeze that tbe swill blow created sweep bis face, but he was unharmed. He didn’t spend and more time court-

ing the colt, however.”

A Haro Proof of Devotion.

Hun Krunulooo Chronicle.

Atiout a mouth ago F. A. Learett, of Oakland, an engineer in the employ of the Central Pacific Railroad Company, and stationed in Arizona, was seriously scalded by the overturning of his engine, and one of ids leg* W’as so badly injured that the flesh fell away. The attending physicians toli him that if ids friends would each contribute a small piece of flesh they could restore it to its old usefulness. Tbe statement v.ns widely circulated, and twentyeight of ids fellow-workman volunteered and bravely bared their limbs to the surgeon's knife. The truiisplunn - tiou of flesh was suw'eesfully made, and to-day the leg looks almost us

quietly philosophize. Here, on this smooth rock, browned by tlie hand of

time.”

They sat"

“Byjtngh Jing! Great glorious Jehewslx! Oh, Jane'Huria McAllister!” exclaimed Billy, bouucing like light-

ix)UiKMng HKc* ii^iii' , jmrfc of tsoitnt

ning to Ids feet and rubbing, as it were I —■

Ids thin cassimeres; “this is Ukiutterly jammed utter! too high eld intensely blamed intense! too blanked utterly and iafernaliy and infernal! O—h! Aow! Oh, gusli! Throw that everlast ing sunflower into your old sad sea wave!” Aud he put for the country

seat of his ancestors.

William had s«uted himself somewhat lerveutly upon an old Long Inland eea-flrtiibocp “home-shoe,” and

Colorado Springs Gazette.

Lone Star ranch is becoming famous as productive of some very remarkable sheep. It was on the Lone Ktar ranch that the wonderful three-ply sheep was born. We refer, of course, to the sheep with three eyes, three ears ami three tails, which was fully described in the Gazette some weeks ago. We have received advices from our speciel correspondent, Mr. W. W. Cook, whom we have engaged as a specialist to keep a scientific eye on the peculiar hapiieirings at tlie ranch. In tlie course of his letter on the recent phenomenon, Mr. Gook says: “As most of your readers probably know black wool brings from five to ten cents a pound less than the corresponding grade of white wool. In order to seoure the separation of tlie inferior product, us our shearing operations progressed, we placed the black sheep in a pen by themselves. There were thus on last Tuesday night sixty-three black sheep aud some lambs alone in one of tlie corrals. During the night a coyote entered aud killed a ewe and two lambs, and we were greatly surprised to find in the morning that tlie wool on the remaing sixty-two sheep hud turned perfectly white from terror. Happily the increase in the value of wool more than balanced tbe loss of the sheep that were killed. The bleaching effects of fear on the human hair is well known, but 1 never heard any previous instance of its action oil animals. I merely state the facts as they occurred ami leave to others the prm’tide application of them, which will, I doubt not, arid thousands of dollars to tire value of the annual wool product of this country." The facts given so succinctly by our correspondent are deserving of special notice, and will, no doubt, attract much attention upon the

MOSAICS.

Who never walks save where lie men’s tracks, makes no discoveries. Adversity is the trial of principle. Without it a man hardly knows wheth-

er he is honest or not.

It is one of the worst of errors to suppose that there is any other path of

safety except that of duty.

One of the greatest of all mental pleasures is to have our thoughts often divined; ever entered into with sym-

pathy.

The pious man and the atheist al • wavs talk of religion; the one of what he loves and the other of what he fears. Nothing more impairs authority than a too frequent or iudescreet use of it. If tnumler Itself slrould be continued it would excite no more terror than

the noise of a mill.

True silence is the rest of the mind, and is to the body nourishment aud refreshment. It Is a great virtue; it covers folly, keeps secrets, avoids disputes, and prevents sin.—Penn. The last, liest fruit, which comes late to perfection, even in the kindliest soul is tenderness toward tlie hard, forbearance toward the unforbearing, warmth of heart ♦oward tlie misanthropic. He wire endeavors to escape from life’s druggery may also cease to compete for life’s prize. Even if by maneuver or trick he seize some of them, they will become but empty bubbles that have hist their significance. If you are a wise man you will treat the world tts the ruoou treats it. Show it only one side of yourself, seldom show yourself t<H> much at a time, and let what you show lie calm, cool and poli-hed. But look at every side of the

world.

Seek not to please tlie world, hut your own conscience. The man who has a feeling within him that he has done his duty u[m>ii every occasion is far happier th' 4 n he Mho liamrs u|K>a tliesmiles of the great,or tlie still more fickle favors of the multitude. Lnck is ever waiting for something to turn up. Labor, with keen eyes and strong will, will turn up something. Luck lies in lied, aud wishes the jiostman would bring him the news of a legacy. Labor turns out at 6 o’clock, and with busy pen or ringing hummer lays tire foundation of competence. I.uck whines. Bailor whistles. Luck relies on chance. Ixtbor on character. —Cobden.

Kata Chase Sprague.

Atlantic City Letter.

Did you ever look upon a beautiful face which told you almost as plainly as words that mental anguish had but added to its beauty? I contemplated such a coutenance in tlie parlors of the Shelburne to-night. Its owner was a lady rather inclined to be tall, but with u symmetrical form which looked all the more attractive for the extremely plain costume, black in color, and almost severe in its l 4 »ck of trimming or other adornment. Her blonde hair, dressed in the prevailing seaside fashion—an English frizze—covered tire forehead to within an incti or so of tlie dark blue eyes, and two flushed cheeks, a mouth full of pearly teeth, lips like a ripe cherry, and a short, round chin, completed the picture. But there was something in the face apart from its natural gift- which was calculated at once to rivet the attention of tlie observer. It was an expression of indescribable melancholy and pain, as if the iron had entered the soul of the owner and left there, not hate or viudicativeness, hut sorrow and anguish—a look so plaintive, so appealing, that one might match it

to melt the hardest tears.

“Who i* she?” 1 heard tlieqnestkm asked twenty times inside of uu hour, and each time the answer was returned, "Kate Ghase Kprague.” Tlie former mistress of Gauouchet lias been the guest of the Shelburne since Tuesday, and proposes to remain until the close of the season. A maid and two nurses who have eutire charge of her three children, all girls, the oldest being twelve and tlie youngest not yet three, comprise her retinue. She moves about in a dreamy sort of a way, seldom mingling with other guests or engaging*with them in conversation. Even when in the society of intimate friends,'several of whom are at the same hotel, site sedulously avoids all references to her domestic difficulties. I askeil lier to-night if tlie sale of the Kprague estate, referred to in tlio morning dispatches from Providence, jeopardized any of her interests, and her mouth was open for a reply when Judge Tyner put in an inopportune appearance with a remark on tire mosquitoes, a iKinular subject, which instantly changed the drift of conver-

sation.

Fifty Men Let a Child Drown.

London Fall Mall GiuBette.

On Monday afternoon lift ( v stronglybuilt and well-dressed Englishmen stood round the La-in in Kensington Gardens and deliberately watched a little girl of 4 years of age drown in two feet of water. It would be a comfort if we could persuade ourselves that tliis ehaucc Sample of tile nation

that conspicuously astute wonder of!aiJ happened to be so exceptionally tlie sea bod wisely gone to sleep with | thick-skulled that they did not know

his defensive apparatus upi>ermoat Ktlielinda, or, os It appeared, Jane Marla, mined poie and followed her lover. I think she, too, had caught a crab somewhere. Aud her dress is now doing duty us a curtain for her little brother’s show. Fra Angelico and the rest are shelved for another

season.

♦- «Wi — — Undo Tim's Talent.

Uncle Tim held up ids saw, mid squinted along the teeih to see whether

iM.lur.1 m the imlujitr.il m..„„,,.r ; Th. StigtS

heroic act of the men was duly reworded. The Railroad Company, hearing of the ease, leave of absence was given and two mouths' extra pay was ordered paid to each of the meu. Mr. l,earett is now at ids home, No. hy.'{ Peralta street, aud is rapidly

recovering.

MttHimon* xuuti^o. Baltimore, Keptember 16. The increased storage on wheat in tlie Canton elevators w ill be taken oil' to-morrow. The increased rate on corn will remain for tlie present-

in' was taking aim ut the udaisler, who stepped in range just at that moment mi tne street side "t the fence. His eyes came iuto gear again os he laid his saw on the wood-pile and stepped up to tlie fence, saying: “Well, it is queer. It's only a minute ago 1 was tidukiu' alsiut you. 1 was Udukin’ what a good sermon you gave us last Kunday mornin’, an' how I would tell you so tjie first time 1 saw you.” Fa ole Tim was tiie wooda*awsr and day’*-work factotum for the vllliage. Unlearned its lie woe, tlie minister always ndssed him if he was absent from church—he

whut to do in the emergency, but a review of the whole circumstances admits of no other conclusion than that tliey did uot cure to wet their boots. Aw old man who had brought another child out ten minutes before, entreated them to repeat Ids action, as be was himself too feoh! 44 at that moment, hut none of tbe selfish cowards would move. Our hero asked his dog to do something, and tlie four-footed brute set tlie best example lie could to the bijieds, who stared in astonishment at his prowess. The dog failing, his proprietor trie«l the etlocta of a pole, hut the |mle being too short, tho philanthropy and invention of the usHouihled company were exhausted, and tiro jKior child was left to )ieriah. If any one had said tieforehaud that of fifty Englishmen, token anywhere at random, twenty-five of them, singly or hand in hand, would uot lutvt da-hid even iuto deep water in a moment, aud on a manly impulse he would have been told that lie was slandering lire race. Monday’s humiliating proluediugs, however, reveal to us how we acRiolly stand, explain it as we

UMy.

Jim’s Heart Found. In tlie (mint shop of the Detroit house of correction, says the Free Press, is a man whom we will call Jim, anti who is a territorial prisoner on a life sentence. Up to last spring he wa* regarded as a desperate, dangerous man, ready for rebellion at any hour. He planed u general outbreak, and was “given away” b/ one of tlie conspirators. He planned a general mutiny or rebellion,and wa*again betrayed. He then kept bis own ooRusel and while never refusing to obey orders, lie obeyed them like a man who only needed backing to make him refuse. One day recently a party of strangers came to visit the institution. One was an old gentleman, the others ladies, and two of the ladies hud small children, The guide took one of the children on ills aim aud tlie oilier walked until live party began climbing stairs. Jim was working near by, sulky and morose us ever, when tlie guide said to him: “Jim won’ t you heln tliis little girl up stairs?” Tlie convict hesitated, a scowl on his face, and tlie little girl held out iter hands to him and said: “If you will I guess I’ll kiss you.” His scowl vanquished in an instant, and he lifted tire ediild as tenderly as a father. Halfway up Uu* stairs she kissed him. At the head of tlie stairs she said: “Now you’ve got to kins me, too.’ He blushed like a woman, looked into her innocent to<<*' anil Uteri kissed her cheek, and before lie reached the foot of the stairs again, he had tears in his eyes. Ever since tliat day ho has iieeu a changed man, and no one In that place gives less trouble. Maybe in ins far away western home he has a Katie of Iim own. No one knows, for he never reveals his inner life, imt tlie change so qniekly wrought by a child proves that ho has a J leqrj.