Jasper County Democrat, Volume 1, Number 32, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 19 November 1898 — Page 6

UNCLE SAM'S THANKSGIVING SERMON

ELL, my children, here |;s Thanksgiving time again, and we turn to our turkeys with a pretty joyful and a pretty hopeful heart. Bless you, though, one holiday treads so quickly upon another's heels in this country that the last celebration is in danger of tripping up the former one. It is a fast age, and your Un-

ele Sam will no oooner get out his memorandum book to sum up his causes for gratitude than December shoots out “Merry Christmas!” and the whole string of celebrations seems to break loose. It is, indeed, a fast age, my children, a fast age. Why, time was when it took three whole days to make a feast; one to prepare for it, one to got over it, and one to enjoy ft leisurely. We rested from Christmas to Washington’s birthday, and then had nothing to do but get ready for the Fourth. Then, Thanksgiving found us with longing for turkey, and the holly season sharpened our'Bppetites with its savory odor of plum pudding. But, bless ypu, my children, those good old days are past and gone, along with last year’s fashions. We rush hurry from one festival to another, and fill up the spaces with flag days, and arbor days, and memorial days, and world's fairs, and soldiers’ monuments, until your Uncle Sam is on a dash from one end of the country to the other, trying to fulfill his state and national engagements. And, whenever he hopes to snatch an hour's rest, bless you! some invitation arrives, and he bus to scamper off to lay a corner ■tone, or crown an arch, or fire a salute, or respond to a toast, until his very last suit la in imminent danger of losing its buttons and fraying at the seams! But to return to our turkey and the list tn the memorandum book. Thanksgiving ia here, and the earth is rejoicing! The pence jubilee is over, things fixed for comfort, and calmness and happiness, and the football player is now monarch of the day. During his temporary sovereignty, let Uncle Sam recount the blessings of the year that has run its course through ways •f peril and hardship, but, withal, of blessings. Your Uncle Sam is grateful that the war is over, and Culm can sit down at the November table with a Thanksgiving all her own. Spain must not complain of her “cooked goose!” Time is when' your Uncle Sam, getting riled, acts quickeFn a wink. It took some vessels, some guns,

HER HEART’S DESIRE.

‘KI

x»ou s<•auereu inrougiiom tins (juici Hi* tie country church that Thanksgiving morning. And the beauty of the words and the promise contained in them touched the hearts of many. “Wait patiently upon the Lord and he shall give thee thy heart’s desire,” repeated the choir. "It is not true!” The words were not spoken, but they were in the thought and heart of one old woman sitting far back near the door. She sat alone, for she was alone in the world. Those who had once peopled the old pew with her—father, mother, hueband, brothers and sisters, and the child of her love and care, all were gone. The quiet peaceful beauty of that Thanksgiving morning and the spiritual atmosphere of the church had quite failed to appeal to old 'Margaret Hudson. Never had she felt in a more rebellious mood. It would have dazed and pained the white-haired old elder in the pulpit had he known the thoughts that were uppermost in the mind of the small, dark, keen-eyed little old woman whose head gave a little defiant toss when he rose and said: “Let us bow our heads in prayer.” Margaret Hudson did not bow her head, and her heart did not respond to the simple, fervent prayer of Elder Norris. “What’s the use?” she was saying angrily to herself. "Haven’t I been bowing my head and my knees in prayer for years and years—in one prayer for one thing, for my heart’s desire, and has it been granted to me? No, it hasn’t! I have 'waited patiently on the Lord’ and He has not given me the desire of my heart. I don’t believe that He ever will give it to me. I’ve lost faith and hope. I can’t help it. My *heart’s desire’ has been denied me so long and the promise has not come true for me. 1 can’t believe that it is true.” There were educated, polished and bril-, lant ministers in beautiful city churches who preached with less simple and tender beauty than that old elder preached that moraing about the joy of gratitude and praise-giving for the blessings of God, but Margaret Hudson was not touched by the words. Her faith had lost its Olivet and her love its Galilee. “When He gives me my heart’s desire,** she said stubbornly. “When He sends my key, my Jim, back to me, I will believe that His promisee are true. I can’t trust Him any more until He does.” She did not tarry at the close of the service for her lAual greeting of old friends, bet stole out alone and hurried toward her bpsely home, the homeliness and desolation of which were never so hard to bear as MW. “If He’d hear my prayer and send Jim back to ms it would be so,” she said.

E shall give thee thy heart’s desire.” The choir of the little country chureh did not sing the beautiful words very well. The soprano’s voice was unmistakably “cracked” and the tenor displayed surprising disregard of time and tune. But then, there were no musical critics in the small congrega-

some of his own sure boys, to teach those dons how to run, but it had to be did! The scrimmage had to be short, for all hands were due back at the home table this blessed Thanksgiving day, and, the ball set rolling, it was hustled along fast We are thankful that the world knows how prompt we can act for right against oppression, how sure we are of our mettle, and maybe before many more Thanksgiving days—if things don’t go a little more civilized in the far East—there’s a Turkey’s bead we’ll have to chop off before we can sit down to our plum pudding table quite easy and satisfied. Your Uncle Sam is especially grateful for the pretty girls that remain in the country. This international matrimonial market business has been giving the lords and dukes and earls a chance to rob us right and left. We must put a stop to this, boys! The table don’t look right with so many pretty faces gone. We need all the beauty and smiles and winsomenes* we Can find, and if those titled foreigners must have a live, bouncing American girl, let them come over here and be Americanized and naturalized, and sit down at the table and learn our ways. We have had some glorious shows the last year—flower shows, county fairs, a big Western exposition. We have had conventions, and the chance to view in public the men and women of the epoch, with an extra gathering to press down good measure. We have had baseball and tennis and golf, and yacht races and rowing. And in them all American muscle and American brains have topped the bargain and capped the climax! Let us give thanks for all these amusements and pleasures, thanks for our blessings, thanks for our hopes. ? And a special hurrah for our farmers, amid all this joy of health and vigor! Think of the bountiful reward for the labor of the husbandman! We have been preserved as a nation, and our glory shines afar before all peoples. We have wdcomed the oppressed, we have given a shelter to the homeless. We have aided suffering, and borne the Stars and Stripes where they were needed the most. Once more, children, all together! waving an encouraging flag over to Hawaii and Cuba and the Philippines, a cheer for them, a cheer for America, yourselves and Uncle Sam: My country, 'tls of thee, Sweet In nd of liberty, Of thee I sing. Land where my fathers died. Land of the pilgrims' pride, From every mountain side Let Freedom ring!

Jim! Her heart’s desire! Where was he nt that moment? “God only knows!” his mother said between her broken sobs as she went slowly along over the country road, the bright sunlight of a glorious November day lending a radiance to the brown leaves still remaining on the trees. It had been twenty years since she had seen Jim. He was then a handsome, headstrong boy of 18, and the only child that had come to her. She had lavished upon him the warmest, tenderest affections of her life, and yet she never knew just why Jim had run away from home in his 18th year and she had never seen him nor heard from him since that day. She knew that he had gone "out West,” and she was too poor to follow him, had she known where he was. There had been vague and unfounded rumors that be had “got into trouble," but proof of this was lacking, and her neighbors had long ago ceased to speak of Jim to Margaret Hudson. But not for one day nor for one hour had she ceased to think of him —her heart’s desire. Twenty years of unanswered prayer had ended in this spirit of depression and rebellion, and there was no love nor gratitude in Margaret Hudson’s heart that Thanksgiving morning. Presently she came to the bars In a fence by the roadside through which she must pass on her homeward way. She leaned heavily on the bars, and then dropped slowly to her knees with her head resting on one gaunt arm stretched out upon one of the bars. Her lips moved slowly in proper: “Oh, God,” she said, "I have been so sinful, so wicked. Forgive me and let the desire of heart be for perfect trust in Thee no matter what Thy will may be concerning me. Make this my heart’s desire." There was a smile on her brown and wrinkled old face when she rose to her feet and went on her homeward way. All trace of rebellion had fled from her face, and her eyes shone through a mist of tears. She pushed open the gate before her tiny brown house and when old Hero, the dog, came bounding forward with noisy greet ing she patted him kindly and said cheerily: "Good old dogl Glad to see me, aren’t you, old fellow?” She looked up to see a tall, broad-shoul-dered, brown-bearded man coming rapidly down the path toward.her with outstretched arms and twinkling brown eyes,. “Mother!” he said. “Why, Jim!” And they walked up the path with their arms around each other. And later Margaret Hudson went softly about her tidy, sunny dining room setting her tables for dinner and singing softly, “Wait patiently upon the Lord and He shall give thee thy heart’s desires."

A THANKSGIVING BANQUET.

The Pilgrims' Dinner Given to Indian Chiefs. “The state dinner of the occasion—the real Thanksgiving dinner—took place on Saturday, the last day of the celebration,” says the Ladies? Home Journal. “Nob* withstanding that the kitchens of these wilderness homes were sadly wanting in many of the most common essentials of cookery, there was no lack of good things nor of appetizing dishes at this great feast

The earth, the air and the water had yielded of their bountiful supplies, and the good dames bad done honor to their skill and ingenuity by setting before their hungry guests and companions a repast as sumptuous and tempting as it was varied and delightful. Foremost of all there was roast turkey, dressed with beechnut*; then came rare venison pasties, savory meat stews with dumplings of barley flour; delicious oysters (the gift of the Indians, and the first ever tasted by the white men); great bowls of clam chowder with sea biscuit floating on the steaming broth; roasts of all kinds, broiled fish, salads, cakes and plum porridge; while the center of each of the long tables was adorned with a large basket overflowing with wild grapes and plums and nuts of every variety. “It was the time of the Indian summer. The soft, mellow sunlight shone warmly through the drowsy haze, illumining the somber woodland with a rich golden light, while the gentle winds of the south, laden with the sweet perfumes of the foreat, came as a lingering dream of summer to add to the joy and brightness of this Thanksgiving feast. Upon the balmy air arose the hum of many voices and the merry music of laughter, as the pilgrims, with their Indian guests, partook of the feast that the Provider of all things had given them.”

CARVING THE TURKEY.

Adepts Have Reduced the Art to an Exact Science. Something more than a sharp knife and a tender turkey is necessary to be master of the situation, when a turkey is placed before you. The adept carver has the art

of separating the joints of the bird down to such an exact science that in one minute they can cut the most gigantic turkey into pieces each a good size for a plate. Plant the fork into the turkey’s breast, and cut off the left wing. This is done with a downward swing that catches the joint The fork meanwhile, with a prong on each side of the breastbone, is held stiff and firm in the left hand.

Now press the blade of the knife downward, and remove the leg and second joint As these fall upon Jhe dish they must be lifted to a small platter to be out of the carver’s way. There should always be a warm platter near the carver.

The third move of the carver is to sHce off the breast, removing it in layers parallel to the breast bone. This makes a sHce of very good grain, better than if it were cut crosswise.

The fourth stroke is upward from ths pope’s nose so as to catch the “oyster bone” on the side. This reveals the stuffing. which can be sliced off.

The wishbone is next removed. This is done by slipping the knife under the point of the bone, after the breast is sliced off, and sweeping it downward toward the neck. A very nice pprtion of the mekl come/ with it Follow these directions and carving a fowl will not be difficult

We ThanK Thee, Lord.

For evil things which make us love the good; For all temptations which we have withstood. For slut abhorred; For bitter pains that gave us sweet surcease; For life, for death, and Death’s great daughter—Peace— " ’ We thank- Thee? Lord I —Chicago TlSSMHerald. .

TOPICS FOR FARMERS

A DEPARTMENT PREPARED FOR OUR RURAL FRIEND& Growing of Tobacco Is on the Increase —Rot Cornstalks in the Eoil—Growth . of Commercial Fertilizer Manufac-ture-How to Judge a Horse. A farmer sat on bis porch one day, Thinking of his fields and meadows of hay, Of his fine bred horses and fine bred cows, Of his fleecy sheep and his full-blooded sows. He thought of the work of his hands and brain It took those traits in his pets to train; How he had labored and toiled night and day To make good breeds that would always pay. But never once did he think of the hen That was out in the yard singing just then; You see she was a mongrel, a half-breed, Just come up, you know, like an old weed, But nevertheless she had bought and paid For the cloth of which his pants were made. She often furnished full half his meal, For if he didn’t get eggs he’d be sure to squeal. His hat she furnished the eggs tojmy, And I am not sure but she bought his tie. His shoes, which were of the very best, Came also from old biddy’s nest. Just then his wife came out with a pan Filled half full with corn meal and bran. She gave the hen a gill or two, Saying, “My good old friend, how are you ?” The farmer looked up in a dreamy way And with a scowl on his face began to say, “Those old hens don't begin to pay, For they do nothing but eat and lay.” These last two words were spoken by his wife. Who had worked with poultry all her life. Said she, “Look here, they’re our best friend, For they furnish all the money we have to spend.” She showed him how the mortgage was paid By the many eggs that biddy had laid. “Well, we’ll get a new breed next year,” He said as he kissed his wife so dear. —Poultry Farmer. Preparing Ground for Tobacco. The growing of tobacco seems to be on the increase and to be coming more into prominence every year as an agricultural crop. The zone of its influence seems to be enlarging in an agricultural sense. Parts of the country that were formerly regarded as unfitted for the growing of this plant are coming Into prominence as tobacco growing regions. The tobacco plant holds a unique place In our agriculture. We cannot look upon it either as a food or ornamental plant. In itself it is a poisonous weed. It was formerly thought that tobacco growing greatly exhausted the ground, but under proper methods this is believed now not to be the case. Growers of tobacco say that the culture of the soil should begin a long time before the culture of the plant, to get the best results. The land should be thoroughly plowed and harrowed in the fall. Stable manure should be used In large quantities. This should be done in the fall to give the manure time to decay, as the tobacco plant grows so rapidly that there Is no time for manure to undergo chemical changes after the seed has sent out the shoot. It is advised to avoid the use of manures too heavily nitrogenous, and to use considerable potash After the plants are on the ground cultivation should be frequent and thorough.— Farmers’ Review.

Rotting Corn Stalks. Farmers are coming to realize more and more that the cornstalks should not be burned—that by rotting them In the soil its physical texture would be Improved so as to resist drought better. The problem is, how to get them sufficiently decayed the first season. Wherb corn Is cut up and shocked, first break the stubs as much as practicable and use the stalk-cutter. Follow this with disk harrow, mixing the corn stubble and top soil together. This stubble in contact with the soil all winter, absorbing water from rain and snow, freezing and thawing while damp, will by spring become fozy and discolored and so far decayed that when turned under It will soon disintegrate. If the crop is not cut up, gather the corn as soon as it can be cribbed; pasture it at once if it is wanted for pasture, and break down the remaining stalks, treating them in the same way as already suggested. If the stalks can be partly or wholly rotted in this way they are worth more to feed to the next crop than their value as pasture. Test both stubble and stalks this whiter. It may not be the best way, but it may lead to the discovery of a much better way to dispose of the stalks than by burning up that which is so much needed to Improve the physical texture of our soil, even if it does not add much nitrogen. —Kansas. Farmer. Commercial Fertilizers. One of the industries which have developed in huge proportions In the last third of a century is the manufacture of commercial fertilizers. The annual production of fertilizers now reaches in value about $40,000,000, and the business is increasing rapidly. A great many of the best chemists in Europe and America are devotlng-tljeir lives to the study of the subject and to devising combinations to cheapen and improve fertilizers. Farmers have become so well advised as to the kind of fertilizers they need for various soils that they cannot be Imposed on. They know what

they want as well as the manufacturers, and If the suitable goods are not offered they make no purchases. Superphosphates, potash salts, nitrate and ammonia salts, industrial by-prod-ucts, such as tankage, dried blood, cot-ton-seed meal, etc., are the prlncpla,' elements from which the standard fef tiUzers are compounded. Production ot fertilizers has been greatly cheapened, and as, the goods are reduced in price the market'for them broadens. An experienced manufacturer makes the prediction that within ten years the production will aggregate $100,000,000 annually. The Agricultural Department is paying especial attention to this subject How to Buy a H«rae. If you want to buy a horse, take no man’s word for it. Your eye is your market. Don't buy a horse in harness. Unhitch him and take everything off but the halter, and lead him around. If he has any failing, you can see it. Let him go himself away, and if he walks right into anything you know he is blind. No matter how clear and bright his eyes are he Can’t see any more than a bat. Back him, too. Some horses show their weakness or tricks in that way when they don’t in any other. But, be as smart as you can, you’ll get caught sometimes. Even the experts get stuck. A horse may look ever so nice, and go a great pace and yet have fits. There isn’t a man who could tell it until something happens. Or he may have a weak back. Give him the whip and off be goes for a mile or two, then all of a sudden he stops on the road. After a rest he starts again, but soon stops for good, and nothing but a derrick can start him.—Southern Stock Farm. How to Make a Cheap Ice House. Select or make a level place of ground near the house where least exposed to the summer sun, and cover it with any kind of cheap boarding. Leave space between the board for drainage. Place stout posts at each corner, the two at the front being 2 feet higher than those at the back, to support the slanting roof. Nail rough boards all around to the height of 2% feet and then nail similiar ones to the inside. Fill up this space on all sides with sawdust or tan bark, and cover the floor to a depth of 10 inches with the same. Select afreezing day, when the ice is in its best condition for storing. Have the ice cut in as large squares as can be handled, and pack it as closely and evenly as possible, and fill up all gaps with pounded Ice, also turning water over each layer. Nail on more boards when the space is filled, and put in more layers of ice until enough is stored for a summer’s use; then cover the top with sawdust or tanbark 2 feet deep, and build over it a roof of boards covered with slabs. When ice Is removed from it, care must be taken to replace the covering as completely as possible. —Practical Farmer. Whitewash the Farm Buildings. The most durable whitewash is that used by the United States Government for painting lighthouses. It is made of three parts fresh Rosendale cement and two parts of clean fine sand, well mixed with clean water. It must be kept well stirred when using and the wall must be wet with clean water just before applying the whitewash, which should be as thick as it can be conveniently spread with a whitewash brush. A good, double whitewash is made by slaking half a bushel of fresh lime with boiling water, dissolve 6 pounds of fine salt in water and thoroughly mix this with the slaked lime and strain it through a fine sieve of coarse cloth, add half a pound of powdered Spanish whiting and one pound of clean glue, which has been dissolved in warm water, add to this five gallons of clean hot water and stir it well over a slow fire until it is thoroughly heated and well mixed, then set it away for a day or two so it will become well seasoned, and when using it keep it thinned with hot water to a consistency that can be readily applied with a white-wash brush and spread it while quite hot.

Feedins Whey to Hogs. Whey contains more nutritive value than It Is popularly supposed to have. Though most of the fats and caselne have been taken from It, there is a small proportion of both of these that goes through the press. These have some value, but not enough with the large proportion of water to be fed alone. There Is also some sugar which makes the pigs fond of whey so they will eat until they are distended with whey, while growing poor in flesh and not gaining in weight at all. . But mix some corn and oat meal with this whey, and add the least bit of linseed meal, and the whey becomes altogether a different food. It might be said that the whey contributes nothing of value to the ration. It does, for It makes it more palatable if given in moderation. The sweet in the whey makes it an appetizer, to encourage the animal to eat more than it otherwise would. Strawberry Plants In Hills. To successfully grow strawberries in hills the land must be very rich, and this causes many runners to start out Now, if these runners are allowed to form leaves and do not strike root and a great quantity of them are cut off all at once, it is not only a great waste, but it throws the plant out of balance of root and foliage, and thus weakened it is liable to be attacked with rust. If the runners are clipped before leaves form it at once proceeds to form new crowns and fruit buds and its roots and foliage will not be thrown out of harmony. There will be little difficulty of this sort if runners are cut every week. —Michigan Fruit Grower. Quince Flavoring for Apple Pies. Whenever apples are cooked for pies or sauce a quince sliced up and cooked with them greatly Improves the flavor.

SUGAR ESTATES IN CUSA.

A Picture of Their Conditions Half a Century Ago, Jonathan S. Jenkins, an American miniature-painter, lived in Havana during the middle of the century, and kept a diary of his experiences. A selection from this journal is published in the Century. Mr. Jenkins says: Coffee plantations, though so beautiful, have not Increased in numbers of late years; In fact, many of them have been ehanged into sugar estates, which are more profitable, and render the owner socially more important The owner usually resides in Havana, where his family may enjoy the pleasures of cultivated society and have the luxuries of a city; he therefore employs a sort of middleman, called a majorI domo, to manage his estate. The own- • er wants all the money he can get to maintain his establishment in Havana, and the major-domo seeks to increase his percentage, and thus the poor slaves are ground to the dust, and at times the cruelties practiced are barbarous.-* The mayorals are usually Canary Islanders, a hot-tempered and cruel race, and, being without restraint of the presence of the owner, are vindictively oppressive, and in their inhuman punishments often take life. The horrors which have been perpetrated in Cuba by the lash would disgrace barbarians. One striking fact attesting the hardships of slave life on a sugar estate is that children are very rarely seen there. Slave men in their vigor are more profitable, and hence in a large force of several hundred men only a few women are allowed. The labors and hardships which these women endure tend to prevent Increase, and the few children born usually die in infancy from neglect. There is no care taken to prevent this result, as they say it is cheaper to supply the losses on the plantations by new importations than by the rearing of children. The climate, fortunately, is so mild that the slaves need but little clothing, and a wide palm hat and a cloth about the loins are their costume In the fields, the sun seeming to have but little effect upon their black skins. Every week there is a ration day, on which they are drawn up in long lines, and a few pounds of black-looking beef brought from Buenos Ayres are thrown’ at the feet of each, which at night each cooks to suit himself. In addition, a coarse meal or small hominy (bran and all) is boiled, and put in a trough, from which they eat it every morning with a spoon, a paddle, or their hands, as they choose. The Africans brought into Cuba are generally from the coast of Mozambique, and are called Locoomees and Caravalees. They are large, stout men, of dogged will, and at times are very obstinate. All these creatures believe implicitly in the transmigration of souls, and that if they commit suicide they go immediately back to Africa. To check this evil, when a suicide occurs, the mayoral makes each of the slaves bring a bundle of wood and build a funeral pyre, on which the body is burned. The ashes are then scattered in the air by the survivors, in whose opinion the dead negro’s soul is’ thus prevented from returning to Africa. In scattering the ashes they sigh audibly, “Aha! Aha!” as if expressing grief that the soul of their companion can no longer go home. The appearance of the sugar estates is the very opposite of the beautiful coffee plantations. Wide fields of monotonous green stretch themselves to the horizon on every side, while here and there the royal palm lifts its tufted head above the verdant level. The mayoral’s house, the sugar works and the dingy barracoons for the slaves are the only objects to break the monotony of the desolate scene. When first planted, the cane is laid lengthwise in trenches, or furrows, about five or six feet apart, and then covered. From each eye (these Is an eye to each sound joint) a shoot springs up, and sends out others, forming a bunch of canes; and thus the fields are covered with the most luxuriant green. Every year the crop is cut at the ground, and the next season another crop springs’ up from the roots, which are called vatons. These vatons will yield crops in this way for several years, the length of time depending on the mildness of the climate. In Louisiana only three or four crops are gathered from one planting, while In the tropics eighteen or twenty are thus obtained. The grinding of the cane begins about the last of October, and continues until the beginning of the rainy season, a period of nearly six months. This Is the time of greatest labor on the estate; and, without intermission of Sundays or holidays, with but few exceptions, the slaves work incessantly and men and teams are worn out before work is over. The slaves are given a few trifling presents and are allowed some extra privileges to encourage them In undergoing the Increased labor.

Violent Deaths Among Royalty.

The world has had 2,550 kings or emperors, of whom records are known, and Who have reigned over seventyfour peoples. Of these rulers 300 were ' overthrown, sixty-four were forced to abdicate, twenty-eight committed suicide, twenty-three became mad or imbecile, 100 were killed in battle, 123 were captured by the enemy, twentyfive were tortured to death, 151 were assassinated and 108 were executed.

Round the World on British Soil.

It is possible to go round the world and touch on British territory all the way, viz., from England to Halifax, N. S., across Canada to Vancouver, across the Pacific to Hong Kong,' thence to Singapore, Penang, Mauritius, Cape Town, St. Helena and England; or from Penang to Ceyldn, Bombay, Aden, Perim, Malta, Gibraltar and home. . Many of the words that burn are taken from the editorial waste basket.