Nappanee Advance-News, Volume 6, Number 41, Nappanee, Elkhart County, 8 January 1885 — Page 3

ftoppantt Urea mppansk. > Indian AN INTERCEPTED LETTER. roar 1' fter at hand, and I hasten. The news will shook you, no doubt, Po send you the stray bits of gossip * Thai I nave caught floating about hut first I'm all “Axed" for the season; My costumes are marvels of art, Bottcn up for the laudable purpose Os ensnaring some masculine heart Ton seek dear. I've turned twenty-seven, >r heaven's sake don’t breath It Nell; In our set I am but one and twenty. And I'm spoken of still as a belle. Father growls when 1 speak of new dresses, And says these expenses must stop: Mother scolcKiit the kept-up attentions 1 receive from the men wno don't pop. hot what Can I do? I'm as anxious k As any live woman can be Cos make ta distinguished allianee Os course would much better suit me) An alliance of some kind with someone; Don't laugh, I’ve grown desperate, dear; Brown. Smith, Jones or Green—even Tompkins I prefer to “Miss Constance Devere." Vou remember the long-haired young German? You thought him decidedly “flat:” Well, lid's fallen heir to a fortune And a Dukedom, or something like that. The young widow who was the sensation Os the season, last winter, just think, 6he jilted the man that I wanted. And now he has taken to drink. Young Blinks has eloped with Miss Tnnner; Frank, the bank clerk, the blonde mustached dear, Will sojourn at the Chateau do Slug Slug, For pleasure, of course. Tor a year. Miss Spilklns, the hairdresser's daughter. The freckled fright, you will ree ill. Who sported a fortune in diamonds At the Seventh's last annual ball. It is said will be married at Christmas. She's thirty if she Is a day; But she's captured the cateh of the season. The handsome young artist. Paul Gray; And here 1 am wearing the willow, . While the homeliest girls in my sot Are planning their tours and their outfits; It’s enough to put oneka a pet. I vow I will not waste my sweetness Or wither unpluckcd; If all fails I'll elope. In despair, with our coachman, A handsome six-footer from Wales. I have reached, Nell, the end of mv paper, And tho end of mv gossip; it's late; The chill of December Is round me. For tho Are has burned low in the grate. Write soon, very soon. Now good night, love; Think often of her who. In fear Os a future unblest by a husband. Mourns the fact she's still Constance Dove re. —Oicrn M. Wilson, fn Chicago Inter Ocean. w m TWO MISSING DOCUMENTS. A Purloined Marriage Certificate and a Stolen Reoord. On a stormy Saturday afternoon in January, 1829, the parish clerk at Moffat, in Dumfriesshire, Scotland, was lighting the tires in the vestry and the kirk to warm the building for the next day’s services, when he observed that a strauger had entered and was attentively examining the large, old-fashioned pulpit and precentor’s desk. The stranger wore a low-crowned, broadbrimmed hat, and a large traveling cloak with three or four immense capes. The high, fur-lined collar of the cloak was up, so that little of the stranger's face could be seen. When he saw the clerk he spoke to him politely, saying he was on a journey, and, having to bait and rest his horses, thought he would walk round and see what was of interest. Observing the church door ajar, he had entered. He asked the clerk the name of the minister, the extent of the parish and other questions, and then moved toward the rear of the building. Pointing to an open door, he said he supposed the vestry was beyond. The clerk replied that it was, and invited him to enter. •'lt is chilly,” he said; “1 don’t wonder at your making up such a roaring fire.” He stood with his back to the fire in the vestry, and gazed at the room. ‘‘My word,” he said, rubbing his hands, ‘‘how very’ cold it is.” Then glancing sideways yvith a smile at the clerk, he said: “I*have a flask of prime French brandy in my pocket, and, if it would not be sacrilege, I should like to take a sip and ask you to join me.” “'Deed sir,” said the clerk, fixing his eye3 on the stranger’s hand as it drew forth a bottle from the folds of his cloak; “ ’deed, sir; it’s no for me to say what's sacrilege and what’s not; but this I ken that the minister hissel’ takes a drap in the vestry after service of a Sabbath.” “ That settles it,” said the stranger, and he took a long draught of the brandy and handed the bottle to the clerk, who did likewise. AN OLD CHEST. After some further talk, the stranger asked, pointing with his finger: “ What is in that old chest over yonder?” “ That, sir,” said the clerk, going to it and lifting the lid, “is where we keep the records of marriages and baptisms.” ‘•Ah, how interesting they must be,” the stranger said. “ Here, take another sip. If you’re not in a hurry I’ll sit right here by the table and glance over one of the rusty records, if you have no objection.” “ None in the world,” said the clerk, and glanced toward the bottle. “Go and take a drink,” the stranger said, “ and I’ll pick out a volume and glance over it. ” The clerk helped himself, and the stranger lifted a strongly-bound manuscript volume. “Good,” he said: “this contains records of marriages from 1761 down to 1821. It will do as well as any other.” Then he placed it on the table, drew the chair and sat down. As the clerk looked over his shoulder, he turned leaf after leaf, remarking on th#writing, the color of the ink, the names of the parties and so forth. Then he took another sip from the bottle and invited the clerk to do the same. The clerk became garrulous, and had something to tell about this couple aud that as they came across the names in the register. After a time the stranger closed the book, restored it to the cnest and moved toward the church, down the aisle of which he walked toward the door. As they reached the porch the stranger took another sip. Then he suddenly exclaimed: “By George, I’ve left my gloves in the vestry! Here, take the bottle and help yourself while I go back for them.” JFHe put the flask into the hand of the clerk and hastened up the aisle and into the vestry. In half a minute he returned, told the clerk he might as well empty the flask (which he did) and then departed with a hearty shake of the hand. a mk. Godfrey’s visitor. About ten days later the same stranger called on Mr. Godfrey, a wellknown attorney-at-law, of Birmingham. “My name,” he said, “is Pallister, of the law firm of Weed, Pallister & Carew, of Furnival’s Inn, London. I am on my way to attend to some highly important business which will come before the Northern Circuit the coming spring, and the Earl of Warwick, who is a relative of my client, recommended me to see you and consult with you as a lawyer eminently skilled in his class of business.” Mr. Godfrey acknowledged the comEliment, adding that he had had ihe onor to advise the Earl of Warwick in matters of the nature referred to and his advice had turned cut to be valuable and judicious. Mr. Pallister and Mr. Godfrey converted for some time, and then Mr. Pal- * lister oomplinMttd Godfrey o to

admirable order in which he kept his office, adding that, as for his firm, they had given over attempting to keep an orderly office. “Now, I .suppose,” said Pallister, “vou know Vbere every document is filed away and can reach it a moment?” “Yes,” was tho reply, “mv method is very simple. Here is a register, you see. I devote so many pages to each client, and every document relating to their business is entered wi ll a number appended, which corresponds to the number on a drawer. Where a letter is used it refers to a box. Now, here, for instance, is Parsons. See—each document is sufficiently described, and there is the number of the drawer. The advantage is this: If I kept all Parsons’ documents together, I should have to 4tunt over all of them every timo I wanted a particular one. Now I look here, and nave it in a moment.” “Excellent,” said Mr. Pallister, “just let me get the idea,” and he turned over several pages, and then’closed the book with another expression of approval. Then, declining an invitation to dinner, he placed a handsome fee in tho lawyer s hand and departed. THE visitor’s RETURN. An hour later, a messenger came in with a note from Mr. Pallister, asking Mr. Godfrey to come at once to the Hen and Chickens, as he omitted an important matter. Mr. Godfrey at once started. He had left the house only five minutes when a coach drove to the door, and Mr. Pallister alighted. He said to the clerk: “The moment I sent the letter, I saw how foolish it was to waste so much time, and so oanie right herein the hope of catcliing Mr. Godfrey. It is too bad. 1 say, young man, can’t you jump into the carriage, follow Mr. Godfrey to the Hen and Chickens, and bring him right back?” “I see no reason why I shouldn’t,” said the clerk, and in a niimite he was hastening after his master as fast as a pair of horses could carry him. Left alone, Mr. Pallister amused himself by again examining the register, and seeing whether the numbers appended to the documents corresponded with those on the drawers, and whether the documents so numbered were to be found in the said drawers. Then he sat down and waited, having first arranged the papers in a large leather pocket-book to his satisfaction. After Mr. Godfrey’s arrival a few minutes sufficed to close the consultation for good. Mr. Pallister handl'd Mr. Godfrey another fee and then drove off. THE WIDOW AND HER SON. Mrs. Caroline Thwaites was the widow of Thomas Thwaites, of Appelcy Court, Warwickshire. Mr. Thwaites had been dead six months, leaving his widow and a son and heir, Charles, aged fourteen. Mr. Thwaites had greatly disappointed a younger brother by unexpectedly, at the age of sixty, bringing home a wife, whom he had picked up on the outskirts of a Scottish moor, where ho went for the shooting. Nobody knew who she was or whence sho.came, but she was lady-like and fond of her husband, and they lived happily together. Two months after her husband’s death she was notified that his brother, George Thwaites, claimed the estate on the ground that she was not the lawful wife of the deceased, and that her son was illegitimate. She consulted her lawyer, Mr. Godfrey, of Birmingham, and left the matter in his hands. She handed him her certificate of marriage, and said: “There, keep it. You arc my friend, and it will be safer in your keeping than in mine.” The lawyer subsequently wrote to George Thwaites: “ The certificate of the marriage of vour late brother to Caroline MacDonald, at Mofl'at, Dumfrieshire, is in my possession. I can’t conceive how you can have any just gound of complaint.” Then Mr. George Thwaites wrote back saying that he supposed if it was as Mr. Godfrey stated he must rest content So things stood. On February 20, 1829, Mrs. Thwaites was served with papers in an action in ejectment wherein the illegitimacy of her child was fully set forth. As tho matter was to be pushed on, she immediately directed her lawyer to prepare to defend the cause. CERTIFICATE AND RECORD MISSING. $ Mr. Godfrey consulted his register; found the entry of the marriage certificate of Thomas Thwaites and Caroline Thwaites, ascertained the number of tho drawer and went to it. Few papers were there, only half a dozen, and the certificate was not one of them. Every box, every drawer, every nook and corner was searched in vain—the marriage certificate could not be found. Mr. Godfrey started by mail-coach to Carlisle, and thence posted to Mofl'at He searched the records of the parish chijrch, but no record of the marriage was to be found. He examined the book very carefully, and was satisfied that the leaf covering Ihe date of the marriage had been removed. He questioned the clerk, but to no purpose. The minister was dead who ofliciated at the time, and no one knew the names of the witnesses. Here was a dilemma out of which the lawyer could not see his way. The certificate gone and the record destroyed, what was to be done? He stayed a week in Mofl'at and searched 'dilligently for the witnesses, but none could even remember the wedding. He broke the facts to the widow as easy as he could, but it was a terrible shock to her. Her only chance of proving the legitimacy of her son was gone, and she would have to become an outcast, penniless and despised, with a child on whom the brand of baseness would be fixed. The lawyer was still indefatigable in his search for the missing document, and prepared, as far as he was able, for the approaching trial. IN COURT. When the time came the parties most interested in the proceedings were there. At the proper moment counsel for the defendant briefly stated the facts of the marriage, and said he would produce indubitable evidence of it, although the certificate of marriage deposited by the defendant with her lawyer had been purloined, and the record of the parish church of Moffat abstracted. The register was produced and shown to the jury, and the fact that the leaf covering the date of the marriage had been cut out was clearly apparent. The clerk told the story of . the visit of the stranger to the church, and Mr. Godfrey gave an account of the visit of the same person to him, both swearing positively that they had seen the man in London within a fortnight, and that he was Mr. Pallister, of the law firm of Wood, Pallister & Carew, of Furnival's Inn. Tiie plaintiff was called by the defense and admitted that he had retained the firm as his attorneys, and, that subsequently, with his consent, they had employed another firha to conduct the case. A SURPRISE. Then the defendant was sworn. She testified to the marriage, and that at the time her husband procured for himself a separate certificate, saying that it was a Scotch marriage and there might be trouble. She produced the certificate. The son and daughter of the dead minister swore it boro their father's signature. Then Thomas William-on and George McPhers >n were sworn. They testified that they were gardener and coachman to the minister, and at his death went into the service of his daughter and her husband. They witnesse I the marriage, and romeml tired the orcunsfence* ettendit.g i\ t>pecjnil,y

the Englishman was very particular about having two certificates —one for himself and one for his wife. f This ended the. ease, and tho jury found for theffljefendant. The leamed-audge who presided expressed regret Inal there was not proof sufficient to punish the conspirators, who had evidently used the basest means to deprive a lawful wife and her innocent offspring of their rights. A KEMAHKAIILK DREAM. Not the least remarkable thing about this case is the manner in wlueh the fact of the two certificates was recalled to Mrs. Thwaites’ remembrance. “The day 1 received the information that tho certificate and record were mi-sing,” said Mrs. Thwaites, “it affected me greatly, and when night came I could not sleep. At length I fell into a do.-e, and had a remarkable dream. I saw the church at Moffat, and thought myself ,thore being married to my late husband. I saw the minister fill out the registor, and I signed it after my husband. Then I saw the clergyman and two witnesses sign it. I stood bv the minister while lie made a copy of the register, and I heard my husband say: ‘Let.us all sign the document.’ After that was done I saw my husband holding the certificate in his hand, atjd then a mist came over mv sight and I heard a voice which sounded like my husband’s, at a dis-; tance, say: ‘This is a Scotch marriage,; and trouble may come. I will take a certificate also.’ Then everything seemed to fade away,thought I was floating out to sea, and was looking in vain for a rope which I knew had been thrown to me. Again I heard my husband's voice, still more indistinct, and as though he was struggling to be heard, crying out tome: ‘To the left—to the left!' All passed away and I was awake. At once the whole occurrence in the church came back to my mind. I arose, dressed and, procuring a lamp, went to the study and searched among my husband’s papers. The search, however, wps in vain, when tho words of my dream, ‘to the left,’ came into my mind. I was standing at the time with my back to the fire-place, and instinctively looked toward the left. Right before me was a book-ease. I went toward it, and my ete instantly fell on the old familiar Bible, in a leather wrapper, lying on a lower shelf. This book was a Wycliffe Bible and the very first edition published. It hail been in the family of my husband for four hundred years, and contained the records of the births, marriages and deaths of his ancestors and relatives. The leather cover I carefully removed and opened the sacred volume. Sheets of paper were pasted in the beginning, mostly containing records. On examining them, I came upon the very certificate for which I was searching. There, spread out and lying next to the certificate of marriage of his father and mother, was the precious document.”— Cincinnati Enquirer. CLEARING OFF TIMBER. © A Work of Infinite Labor anil Prodigious Expense. A few weeks ago, wearied with my editorial duties, I lay my pen aside and went on a visit to my uncle, who owns a farm in a distant State. lam partial to rural life. Nothing would suit me better than to own a farm in the country. I hardly think a farm in the city would do. Tho horse cars might run over your cows and the policemen break into your corn-crib and steal your corn. Well, my uncle received me with open arms. . Said he: “Parmenas, those heavy editorials that you wrote me were creating such a profound sansation in Europe are wearing you out. ' Better look out, my boy, and not strain your brain too much—the top of your head may fly off some day.” I enjoyed myself very much at Uncle Jim’s. Nothing was too good for nie—at least I thought so—and time slipped away very pleasantly. As cold weather approached the bracing air seemed to fill me with a desire to exercise my muscles, so one morning I remarked t'o Uncle Jim: “Say, haven't you got sonic timber you want cleared off this winter? I’m an excellent chopper, and to see tho chips fly and the giant oaks fall crashing to the earth always fills one with unbounded delight. (Once, while in the army, I hacked down a few small cellars for firewood.) Uncle Jim immediately got me an axe and piloted me to the worst looking timber I had ever seen. Most of the trees were four feet in diameter, and the undergrowth was as thick 8£ the hair on a dog. Besides, there was an intricate network of wild grains vines woven in among the trees. Uncle Jim said: “There, my boy, antusc yourself.” and left me. After an hour’s arduous toil I made & clearing around one of the largest oaks, spit on my hands and sailed in. 1 managed to get through the bark after awhile, and then sat down and gasped for breath. I know now why a man’s ribs are built so substantially; it’s to keep woodehoppers’ hearts from jumping through their breasts and bouncing oft’ into the woods. When night came I had made a hole in that tree about the size of the first cut in a cheese, and I felt next morning as if I had been run over by all the artillery and cavalry in the United States service. I was three days in felling, that tree. I cut all around the confounded thing and then tried to push it* down, but it stood there as firm as the proprietor of a one-priee store. I went to the house and secretly got an old rip-saw, and tried that on awhile, hut no go. Another hour's superhuman effort with the axe, however, made the stubborn old fellow topple and crack, and the next instant he fell with a crash that shook the earth from Maine to the Gulf of Mexico. It fell across anew eightrail fenee and killed a cow that was grazing on the other side—killed her as dead as a cove oyster. I then sat down on a stump anil shed the first solid tear I had shed in sixteen years. To think that I should toil aud sweat and swear for three whole days just to knock fifty dollars out of * my. dear Uncle Jim’s pocket! I went sorrowfully to the house, and when the old gentleman came in he said: “Well, how are you getting along?” “ Got that big tree down.” I replied. “ which way did it fall?” asked Uncle Tim. “Downwards,” I answered, “ and smashed four panels of fencing and gave an old spotted cow such a rap that her cud Hew fifty feet. There’s nothing salable about her now but her hide and horns; deduct the price of those and charge the rest to me.” Uncle Jim sank into a chair, leaned his head upon his hands, groaned dismally, and sighed: “Poor Spot!” Aunt Susan covered her face with her apron and sobbed: “Poor old Spotty!” The children also set up a wail of lamentation. I was forced to go into the kitchen and take a smoke of the old man's tobacco to hide my emotion. Presently he came in and said: “ Well, there’s no use crying over spilled milk ” (it was spilled milk in this instance, sure enough): “ you can go right on and clean off that timber, work the trunks up into cord-wood and fence rails and the tops into fire-wood, and we’ll say no more about it” “ No, Uncle,” I feelingly replied, “ that would be too slight a remuneration; you must receive a more generous reward. I’ll send you my paper for twenty -five years at two dollars a year.” The next morning I came home. There's a coolness now existing between Uncle Jim and me.— Partly sir, in Detroit free frw

PERSONAL AND LITERARY. —George Francis Train still lives and writes poetry for the New York papers. N. Y. Sun. —John Ilabberton, author of “Helen's Rabies," is now managing editor of the New York Herald. —lloth of Georgia’s United States Senators have been preachers,- Senator Brown as a Baptist, Sen at _>r Colquitt as a Methodist. Sir John A. Macdonald, Prime M:nistor of Canada, predicts that the Canada Pacific Railroad will be completed to the Pacific Ocum by October, 1886. —Verdi favors the lowering of the musical pitch and the establishment of a uniform diapason for ‘the entire musical world. —The wife of a prominent New York banker, Mrs. Henry Clews, has discovered that the American ladies do not read newspapers, and she proposes to start newspaper clubs for them.—Philadelphia Tribune. —Mrs. Farley, of Bridgeport Conn., aged one hundred and three years, frequently goes shopping with her daughter of seventy. This seems to be a ease of ruling passion strong in dress. — Indianapolis Journal. J —Gen. G. A. Sheridan, the American lecturer, is drawing large audiences in Adelaide, Australia. His subject is“ The American Civil War," and his tour is managed bv the Young Men’s Christian Association. — N. Y. Tribune. —John G. Whittier received two large birth-day cakes receetly, one of which was surrounded by seventy-seven lighted candles. The Boston highschool girls sent the poet a basket of seventy-seven tea-roses. — Boston Journal. —Mr. and Mrs. Gardner Luther, of Swanzey, Mass., aged eighty-four and eighty-three years respectively, are in good health and able to walk two miles and husk corn - for their neighbors at four cents a bushel.— Boston llerald. —R. H. Stoddard says that Hawthorne was never well paid, as litererary payment is understood now, even in the fullness of his fame. He remembers the novelist once showing him an offer from a publisher of $6 per printed page for a story. Chicago herald. —Bishop G. T. Bedell, of the Episcopal Diocese of Ohio, has addressed a letter to the Ohio State Journal, of Columbus, congratulating it on the fact that it does not publish a Sunday edition and subscribing for it as a token of appreciation of “this wholesome reverence for the Lord’s day. ’ —Judge Poland, the venerable Vermont statesman, has discarded the light-brown suit which made such a stir in the House the first time he wore it last session, and gone back to the spike-tailed blue coat, ornamented! with brass buttons, that he has worn ever since the time of the Wilmot Proviso.— Troy Times. —“Mark Twain,” writes a friend, “is undoubtedly destined to be the richest of American authors. No man has made so much money in the same space of time as he has done. His wife has a large estate, and together they now have more than $1,OK),000. He is a sharp business man, increasing his pile all the time by good investments as well as by new books and lectures, and as he is still on the right side of fifty he will probably turn his present million into other millions before he dies.” HUMOROUS. —A sweeping victory—When yon get the servant to handle the broom successfully.—Boston Post. “Robbie,” said the visitor kindly, “have you any little brothers and sisters?” “No,” replies wee Robbie, solclmnlv, “I'm all the children we’ve got.” -—“lf you don’t keep out of this yard you’ll catch it,” said a woman to a' boy in West Lynn. “All right,” answered the gamin. “I wouldn’t have come in if I’d known your folks had it.”— Lynn Item. —“Mamma,” said a little girl, “I think I’ve got ammonia. ‘You mustn’t say ammonia, dear; you must say “But it isn’t new, for I think I had it yesterday.” Boston Courier. —“How do yon braid your hair so nicely?” queried a gentleman who was visiting a lady-friend. “Oil,” broke in her enfant terrible sister, “she takes it off anil Yes the knot to the gas chandelier and fusses over two hours every morning.” — N. Y. Herald. —“No, ma'am!” exclaimed the provoked young man to a young lady, who, on the refusal of her favorite, had asked him to accompany her to a party: ‘[l don’t play second fiddle to any one ” “No one asked you to play second fiddle,” replied the girl, with a smile; “I only asked you to be my beau.”—Boston Union. —“Pap, is Queen Victoria's other name Lize?” “No, my son, why do you ask?” “Why, you know Shnktspeftre was an Englishman, and I’ve just heard you reading where he says: ‘Uneasy Lize, the head that wears the crown,’ and Victoria wears the crown, doesn’t she?”— Oil City Derrick. —Much Adioux About Sioux: There was a young woman name<t Sioux, Whoso pa made an awful adioux At hearing her marriage To the groom of his carriage. Hut he's simmering down to a stioux. “I’d rather she’d wi tided a diouxod Or a man with whom I'd a flouxed; But I'm glad, all the same. She's at last changed her name”— And ’tis hero the old beggar was shrlouxed! —Philcutcli)hia AV.irx. —“Some people,” said Mrs. Sharpmale, “measure love by gold. 1 measure it by its quality.” “I measure it by quantity,” said meek little Mr. Shaypniale, in feeble tones. “I measure it by the peek.” “By the pock, you lunatic: what do you mean by that?” “By the lien-peek,” he gurgled, hoarsely, and then all the rest of the night he wished he hadn’t said it— Burdette. —Everybody knows how the sudden cessation of a thundering band of music causes remarks to bs shouted out in a tone like a locomotive whistle. Tj’lie other night at a hop the band crushed out a few final bars and suddenly stopped, when the voice of a lovely little thing in pink was heard screaming at the top of her lungs: “Don’t my bustle hang nicely?”— Chicago Tribune. To Remov* a Musty Odor. Mustiness is produced by the presence of the germs of mold or mildew in damp, confined air. The jso-called ground or earth smell which cornea from confined places where there is no ventilation is caused by the air which percolates through the ground constantly and rises from it, and being unable to escape remains charged with the ge rma of various fungoid plants which exist in the soil. These are exceedingly dangerous to health, producing so-called malaria and various fevers, diphtheria, and other serious disorders. The best method of removing and preventing such odors is to give good ventilation under the building, so as to have a good current of air blowing through at all times; also, to burn sulphur matches under the house and one or two in the house when the odor is most preceptible. A sulphur match is made as follows: A teaspoonful of flowers of sulphur is scattered over a sheet of newspaper, which is • then rolled up loosely m a long roll: this is set on fire in an iron pot or pan and burns slowly, giving oft' sulphurous acid, which is one of the most effective antidotes to these fungoid germs of all kinds, and pn excellent, wttlseßtic.-—iV. Y- 'J'imes.

J 1885. JANUARY. I JULY. 8 M. T. W. T. F. 8. 8. M. T. W. T. F. S. ‘ - I*o------ 1 S 8 4 *507 a io s c 7 a *i*ii li i is 14 is io it is is 14 is in 17 is is 10 eo *1 *e ca 84 is *0 i w a 4 *0 ea ao *7j*B ss'iuojsi *e *7|as *s|Bo|ai 22 jUI **l ~*r*r *1“ FEBRUARY, AUGUST. s. M. T.VV. T. F. S. S. M. T. Kv. T. . I*sj4s e 7 -- —l-( •• -- 1 s s is 11 1* is 14 * s 4! a 7 a 18 16 17 18 IS 80 Bl SlO 11 1* IS 14 IS 18 B|B4 BS 86 *7 *8 16 17 I*' 19 80 81 88 —| -- -- S3 84 *0.88187 *8 80 - SO Slj --| I-- -- | MARCH. SEPTEMBER. 8.1 M. T. W. IT. F. j S. S. M. T. W. T. F. jS. i 8 a * c'! 7 .. v i * a 4 1 o 8 810 11 18 13 14 0 7 8 OlOllllS IS 16 17 la|lo Bof*l 13 14, 1S 16 17 lallO 2S 83 34|SS 80 87 88 80 81 < 23 84 SS SO sr so ai sijssjsujao ~~ APRIL. OCTOBER. 6. M. T. W. T. P. S. S M. T. W. T. F. 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S. .- 1 8 3 4 5 0-... 1 8 8 4 5 7 8 9101118 13 0 7 8 01011 18 14 15 1617 18 19 80 18 14‘15 16 17 18 19 81 88 88 84 85 86 87 80 81 88 83 84 85 86 jißjßoj3o| -kJ—j - 87 88 80|SO81 HOME, FARM AND GARDEN. —For general purposes the orange quince is probably the most desirable, —A strong brine wash is a good remedy for sore head in chickens.— Troy Times. —About one ounce of meat three times a week is sufficient for one hen, or about two pounds weekly for a flock of ten. —Prairie Parmer. —Supply your barns and stables with brushes and wire currycombs that will not scratch the tender skin of animals, and see that they are used. —The fattening of old cows is not a very profitable business. It is tho young animal fed for growth from calfhood up that brings profit to feeders. But farmers who never experiment may be slow to believe it.—Albany Journal. * —An expert in strawberry culture asserts that in transplanting tlie strawberry the runners should be loft on to the length of six inches. The ends of the runners are then to be bent down and buried with the roots, and act as suckers to draw nourishment to the plant until new roots are formed. In this way, he contends, plants will thrive under conditions which would otherwise prove fatal. —Savannah News. —How to Take a Pill: It is a common habit when attempting to take a pill to throw the head back as if laughing. Almost inevitable choking would follow attempts to swallow ordinary food in such fashion. The reason is obvious. The head should be kept in a position usual when eating at the table, tinning the face slightly forward and downward. A trial of this posi ,ion in pilltaking will prove it to be the better way. — N. Y. Times. —There is something wrong about a horse-stable when the air there perfumes one’s clothes in a few minutes. Plastty, muck, road-dust or some other absorbent should be freely used. The condition is st 11 worse When the nose detects ammonia. There is not only a loss of manorial value then, but harm to tho eyes of horses, and to harness and to the Varnish of buggies and carriages. Change the bedding often and use absorbents freely.— N. Y. Tribune. - SAWDUST. Its Use and Value as an Element of Mulching Material. - One of our readers, in a winter-wheat district of Michigan, asks whether it would pay to mulch with anything but well-rotted manure, whether pine or hemlock sawdust would not be an injury to the wheat after protecting it through winter? He asks, also, whether it would do as well to apply after the ground freezes. We think mulching one of the best protections to winter wheat. So far : preventing winter killing, it makes little difference what the mulch is composed of. Straw, evenly distributed, makes an excellent mulch, although it docs very l\tle in fertilizing the crop, ’j’hc straw furnishes a fine protection against the cold, strong Winds, and also catches light snows, which aid in protection. Sawdust is a most excellent mulch, as we have often proved by experiment, and it matters not how poor the sawdust is. It operates mechanically to prevent heaving during winter, and also protects the sod from drying during the growing season, and in this respect lias almost the beneficial effect of a fertilizer. Sawdust, used as a mulch to fruit trees, is put on some two inches thick, ami then not only prevents the evaporation of moisture', but, we think, also condenses the moisture of the air on its cool under surface, and thus adds moisture to tho earth under. But it would not be applied thick enough to wheat for this effect. No fear need be entertained of the poorest sawdust injuring the wheat crop. We have known the crop to be doubled by a hemlock sawdust mulch, as shown in the same field. The saw* dust carried a good stand of wheat through the winter, while the infmulched was badly killed, and the sawdust also assisted the crop through a spring drought. The crop on the mulched portion was excellent, but on the rest of the field there was hardly half a crop. This sawdust was applied after the ground was frozen, and there is no objection to applying it then. We have seen a good effect from mulching with forest leaves. Anything which protects the surface from cold winds will assist the crop. It is true that a mulch of fine manure will fertilize the crop better than sawdust, but it is not likely to protect it from winter killing any better. But it is quite important that whatever mulch is applied, after the crop is up, should be applied evenly. With the manurespreader this is easily done, but perfectly even hand-spreading is extremely difficult. The manure-spreader will distribute sawdust or fine manure evenly, or even machine-threshed straw, or leaves, or coarse yard-manure, if properly broken up when in chunks. The fine manure will be of the gi'eatest service in assisting the germination and growth of the grass, and especially spring-sown clover-seed. The mulch prevents the hard crust on the surface, so injurious to and in this respect, even sawdust will improve die frass-seeding. A good effect is prt>uced by shavings from a planing-mill. This is very serviceable in catching and holding snow. Mulching will pay its -National Live-Stock Journal, . •

FOE OUE YOUNG EEADEES. A BASS-WOOD SPLINTER. The boy Hint likes Spring or Summer or Yuli Better timu old Ivina: Winter Is u sort of ii bass wood splinter— Soft stulf; in fact, he's no boy at all. Away from the stove, and look out there! Did you ever see a picture so fair.' Kins Winter, from mountain to plain Not a bcirirar in all his train, The Hpky old pump, The niftiest stump: One is in ermine from chips to chin, Tho other—no lamh can bckrin To look so warm and soft and full, Though up to its eyes in wrinkles of wool. See old Dame Post with her niurht Cap on. Madam Bush in tier shawl with the white nap on! Crabbed old Bachelor Hcdpe— Where, now, is liis prickly edpo? And scrappy old (iran'sir Troo, Shabby as shalibv could be. How he spreads himself in his uniform. Lordiup it over the cold and the storm! Summer? Oh, yes, I know she will dress Her dainty dear-dears in loveliness; * But Winter—the preat and small, Anpelie and uply, ail He tailors so'tine, you would think each one The proudest personupe under the sun. Who is afraid he'll lie bit to death By a monster which bites with nothinp but breath? There's more real manhood, thirty to three. In the little chicks of a chickadee: Never were merrier creatures than they When Summer is hundreds of miles away. Your stay-in doors, bass-wood splinter. Knows not the tiist thinp about Winter. A tip for your Summer boys. They ’re no whit better than toys. Give me the chap that will off to town. When the wind is blowing the chimney down. When the bare trees bend and roar Like breakers on the shove. Into thp snow-drifts, piunped to his knees — Yes. In clear up to his ears, if you please, KudffTWtnd ready, plucky and Biroup, Pullinp his little duek-lcps alonp; The road is full, but lie’s bound to po throuph it. He has business on hand, and is round to doit. As yonder you see him breakinp paths for the sleiphs. So he II lie on the lead to the end of his days: One of Winter s own boys, a hero is he. No buss-wood tnere, but pood hard hickory! —John Vance Cheney, in St A’ic/ioJos. TWO PAIRS OF EYES. The CSreat I>lfTerence in the Way In Which People Use Their Visual Organs—The “Lucky” and the “Unlucky” Boy. Did it ever occur so you what a difference there is in the way in which people use their eyes? I do not mean that some people squint, and some do not, that some have short sight, and some long sight. These are accidental differences; and the people who can not see far, sometimes sec more, and more truly, than do other people whoso vision is as keen as the eagle’s. No, the difference between people’s eyes lies in the power and the habit of observation. Did you ever hear of the famous conjurer, Robert lloiuiin, whose wonderful tricks and feats of magic were the astonishment of Europe a few years ago? Ho tells us, in his autobiography, that to see everything at a glance, while seeming to see nothing, is the first requisite in the education of a “magician,” and that the faculty of noticing rapidly and exactly can be trained like any other faculty. When he was fitting his little son to follow the same profession he used to take him past a shop-window, at a quick walk, and then ask him how many objects in the window ho could remember and describe. At first, the child could only recollect three or four; but gradually he rose to ten, twelve, twenty, and, in the end, his eyes would note, and his memory retain, not less than forty articles, all caught in the few seconds which it took to pass the window at a rapid walk. “It is so more or less with us all. Few things are more surprising than the distinct picture which one mind will bring away from a place, and the vague and blurred one which another mind will bring. Observation is one of the valuable faculties, and the lack of it a fault vyhich people have to pay for, in various ways, all their lives. There were once two peasant boys in France, whose names were Jean and Louis Cardilliae. They were cousins; their mothers were both widows, and they lived close to each other in a little village, near a great forest They also looked much alike. Both had dark, closely-shaven hair, olive skins and large, black eyes; but in spite of all their resemblances, ‘ Jean was always spoken of as “lucky,” and Louis as “unlucky,” for reasons which you will shortly see. If the two boys were out together, in tile forest or the fields, they walked along quite differently. Louis dawdled in a sort of loose-jointed trot, with his eyes fixed on whatever happened to be in his Tiand —a sling, perhaps, or a stick, or one of those snappers with which birds are scared away from fruit. If it wore the stick, he cracked it as he went, or he snapped the snapper, and he whistled, as he did so, in* an absentminded way. Jean's black eyes, on the contrary, were always on the alert, and making discoveries. While Louis stared and puckered his lips up over the snapper or the sling, Jean would note, unconsciously but truly, tho form of tho clouds the look of the sky in the rainy west, the wedge-shaped procession of the ducks through the air, and the way in which they used their wings, the birdcalls in the hedge. He was quick to mark a strange leaf, or an unaccustomed fungus by the path, or any small article which had been dropped by the way. Once he picked up a fiVe-franc piece; once a silver "pencil-ease which belonged to the cure, who was glad to get it again, and gave Jean ten sous by way of reward: Louis would have liked ten sous very much, but somehow he never found any pencil-cases;, alnl it seemed hard and unjust when his mother upbraided him for the fact, which, to her thinking, was rather his misfortune than his fault. “How can I help it?” he asked. “The saints are kind to Jcau, and they are not kind to me — roila tout!'' “The saints help those who help themselves,” retorted his mother. “Thou art a look-iu-the-air. Jean keeps his eyes open: he has wit, and ho notices.” But such reproaches did not help Louis, or teach him anything. Habit is so strong. “There! ’ cried his mother one day, when he came in to supper. “Thy cousin—thy lucky cousin—has again been lucky. He has found a trufflebed. and thv aunt has-sold the truffles to the man from Paris for a hundred francs. A hundred francs! It will be long before thy stupid lingers can earn the half of that!” “ Where did Jean find the bed?” asked Louis. “Iu the oak copse near the brook, where thou mightest have found them as easily as he, ” retorted his mother. “He was walking along with Daudot, the wood-cutter's dog-- whose mother was a truffle-hunter -and Daudot began to point and scratch, and Jean suspected something, got a spade, dug, and crack! a hundred francs! Ah! his mother is to be envied.” “ The oak copse! Near the brook!” exclaimed Louis, too much excited to note the reproach which concluded the sentence. “ Why, I was there but the other with Daudot,. and l remember now, he scratched and whined a great deal, and tore at the ground. 1 didn’t think anything about it at the time.” “Oh, thou little imbecile—thou stupid!” cried his mother, angrily. “There were the truffles, and the first chance was for thee. Didn't think anything about it! Thou never dost think; thou never wilt. Out of my sight, and do not let me see thee again until bedtime.” Supperless and disconsolate poor Louis slunk Sway. He called Daudot, and went tis the oak copse, resolved that if he saw any sign of excitement on the part of the dog, to fetch a spade ar.d instantly begin to dig. But Daudot trotted {pong qeetjy, if there were

not a tiufße left in France, and the walk was fruitless. “ If * had only,” became a favorite -sentence with Louis, as time went on. “If I bad only noticed this.” “If I had oi' ! y stopped then.” But such phrase* are apt to come into the mind after solncthing has been missed by not noticing or not stopping, so they do little g ; >od to anybody. Did >t ever occur to you that what people call ‘Uucky chances,” though they seem to come suddenly, are in reality prepared for by a long uncon* scions process of making reaoy on the part of those who profit by them? Such*a chance came at last to both Jean and Louis—to Louis no less than to Jean, but one was prepared for it, and the other was not. Prof. Sylvestre, a famous naturalist from Toulouse, came to the forest village where the two boys lived, one summer. He wanted a boy to guide him about-the country, carry bis plantcases and lierbals, and help in his starch after rare flowers and birds, and hi asked Madame Collot, the landlady of the inn, to recommend one. She named Jean and Louis; they were botli good boys, she said. So the professor sent for them to come and talk with him. “Do you know the forest well, and the paths?” he asked. Yes, botli of them knew the forest very well. “ Are there any woodpeckers of such and such a species?” he asked next. “ Have you the large lunar moth here? Can you tell me where to look for Campanila rhomboidalis?” and he rapidly described the variety. Louis shook his head. He knew nothing of any of these things. But Jean at once waked up with interest. He knew a great deal about woodpeckers—not in a scientific way, but with the knowledge of one who has watched and studied bird habits. He had quite a collection of lunar and other moths of his own, and though he did not recognize the rare Campanila by its botanical title, he did as soon as the professor described the peculiarities of the leaf and blossom. So M. Sylvestre engaged him to be his guide so long as he stayed in the region, and agreed to pay him ten francs a week. And Mother Cardilliac wrung her hands, and exclaimed more piteously than ever over her boy’s “ill luck” and his cousin’s superior good fortune. One can never tell how a “chance” may develop. Prof. Sylvestre was well off and kind of heart. He had no children of his own; and he was devoted, above all other things, to the interest of science. He saw the making of a first-rate naturalist in Jean Cardilliac, with his quick eyes, his close observation, his real interest in finding out and making sure. He grew to an interest in ana liking for the boy, which ripened as the time drew near for him to return to his university, into an offer to take Jean with him and provide for his education, on condition that Jean, in return, should render him a certain amount of assistance during his out-of-school hours. It was, in effect, a kind of adoption, which might lead to almost anything; and Jean’s mother was justified in declaring, as she did, that his fortune was made. “Ami for thee, thou canst stay at .homo and dig potatoes for the rest of thy sorry life,’’ lamented the mother of Louis. “Well, let people say what they will, this is an unjust world; and, what is worse, the saints look on and do not prevent it. Heaven forgive me if it is blasphemous to speak so, DUt I can not help it!” But it was neither “luck” nor “injustice.” It was merely the difference between “eyes and no eyes”—a difference which will always exist and alalways tell.— Susan Coolidye, in 3. S. Times. A CONGRESSMAN’S LIFE. A Career Which as a Uueral Thing, is Decidedly Agreeable. It is an error to suppose that lawmakers have nothing more, to do than to attend the ordinary sessions of the Senate or House, and draw flieir pay. Some of them are models of industry —going to the Capitol early in the morning, holding a eommittee 4 meeting for an hour or two, darting oft' to an executive department for information, taking part in the debates of the respective Houses, wTiting letters to constituents, and transacting infinite odds and ends of business until dusk. And when they go home in the evening, they are not always allowed to rest. They are bothered by dissatisfied constituents; they are besieged by strangers and friends, one wanting this done, another that, a third something else, until, wearied and exhausted, they sink into a restless sleep, and dream hideous visions of the comiug day. Yet there is another side to the picture. They each receive five thousand dollars a year and perquisites, to say nothing of the honor of writing “M. C.” and “U. S. S.” after their- names; they are “distinguished guests” wherever they go; they are invited to all levees and receptions, to all festivals and amusements; they are banqueted by the President and entertained by Cabinet Ministers; and they are welcome to every species of domestic and foreign hospitality, from a charity-ball to a german at the legation, where they may move solemnly through the figures of the stately minuet, or dance to tho livelier music of a cotillion and Virginia reel. Altogether, their careers are decidedly agreeable, and the average Congressman would gladly serve his couutrv for life, and “nominate his bones”- to fill the vacancy occasioned by his death. The bright little son of a Senator evidently thought the Senate was an hereditary institution: for, when asked what he intended to be on reaching manhood, he mournfully answered: “Well, I’d like to be a hack-driver, but I s’pose I’ll haVe to lie a Senator!”— Edmund Alton, in Nicholas . JUDGE AND JURY. How an English Jutlga Dismissed a Jury and Tlielr Verdict. An opinion is gaining ground that jury vonliets are no more certain to be just-than the aecision of Judges who have been trained to weigh evidence. Perhaps it is this conviction which secures acquiescence in the practice described as follows by C. H. Stephens: “But—and this is another difference between the real and the ideal in the jury sy.stem —we have in a large number of cases the more extraordinary spectacle of a jury solemnly sitting through a trial for the purpose of listening to the evidence and forming their own opinion as to the guilt or innocence of the accused, and then being instructed by the Court its to the verdict they shall find. It is, as every one Kuo.'a, the most common of occurrences for the Judge to lecture the jufy upon their verdict and then refuse to receive it. That the Judge should be more correct than the jury is not impossible, but then —wherefore the jury? in an English case in which the jury had brought in ‘guilty’ Mr. Justice Maule addressed the prisoner as follows: ‘Prisoner at the bar, your counsel thinks you innocent; the counsel for the prosecution thinks yon innocent; I tiiink you innocent But a jury of your own countrymen, in the exercise of such common sense as they possess, and it does not seem to be much, have found you guilty, and it remains that .1 should pass upon you the sentence of the law. That sentence is that you bo kept in imprisonment for one day, and, as that day was yesterday, you may now go about your bugincsA’ uiar Spif/itf Monthly,

TEMPERANCE. FROM A BUSINESS STANDPOINT. What the Establishment of a Grog-Shop Means, and What It Costs a Community to Support It—Aa Appeal to the Business Man’s Pocket. The establishment of a grog-shop in any community means the taking from the dry-goods man, the grocer, baker and butcher, jnst the amount taken in daily for whisky. Every five-rent piece passed across a counter for intoxicants is just that much taken from tho business of those who deal in the necessaries of life. Tho brewers and distillers build magnificent palaces in which to live and do business, but how is it with their victims? Do the drinkers of the hell-broth they manufacture build either for themselves or any-one else? Do their victims build cottages in which to shelter themselves, or places in which to transact business? Does the money which flows through the till of the whiskyseller do anything toward up-building the community in which it is sold? Does the dry-goods man, the grocer, the hardware merchant, the bookseller and newspaper get any patronage from this class cf people? Is not every man who is made a drunkard just one taken from the class that support by their patronage every decent business? The moment a man gets the appetite upon him that moment he ceases to bo a producer and begins to be a consumer only. Not only the luxuries every family should enjoy, but the necessities of life are sacrificed to this one appetite. He is of use to the rumseller, and an incubus upon everybody else. The men following respectable occupations lose him entirely, and what he earns, begs or steals goes to Phe support of the one business that'made him what he is. Every drunkard is a loss to the community not only by what he would earn were he not a drunkard, but the cost of his maintenance. And yet the men whose business it in to debauch humanity, to thus pile bundens upon burdens upon the general public, claim that they have the right to follow this business; to go on and on, to the end of tho chapter, in this horrible traffic! They claim that their trade, destructive as it is of everything that is good in man and valuable in communities, shall be prosecuted unrestrained by law and uncontrolled by the publio. * * * * + * * The city of Toledo, with a population of 80,000, has 800 whisky and beer shops, to support which the people pay annually something over three milUons of dollars! Can you comprehend these figures! Three millions of dollars taken from the merchants and mechanics of the city and sluiced through these hellholes! * Three millions of dollars! But this sum, enormous as it is, does not represent the loss to the city occasioned by this traffic. Add to this the amount of time wasted by the drunkards, add to this the cost of the police force, of the courts, of charitable institutions! Yqu can keep on adding figures to this enormous som tilkpaper fails you. j All this is taken directly froijr legitimate trade. Every cent of tins would, were it not for this traffic, be used in the purchase of other goods in a legitimate way. The merchants would sell more goods, and get their money for them, nooses would be of a better class and rents would tie paid promptly, school children would be more comfortably clothed, half the police force could be discharged immediately, the infirmaries could be almost closed, and the' criminal courts would have nothing to do. The business man should remember that the taxes for jthe maintenance of these costly luxuries come directly, upon him. As it is in Toledo so it is everywhere, proportionately. Rum and beer make an item of expense which mounts up far above all the other expenditures of life combinwl. . In this indictment of the liquor interest we have not touched upon the crime and misery it produces, only the cost of it. We have simply made an appeal to the pocket. The cost of it is enough, or should be, to enlist every business man in tho crusade against it. Every mau who is prosecuting a' legitimate business, every man who has a dollar invested in a legitimate business, should no more refuse to aid in destroying this absorbent of capital and labor than he should neglect insurance. Toledo Blade. Drunken Boys. A pen dipped in sises of indignation could not fitly describe a recent scene enacted near the Jerome Park Race Course, New York City. Numerous boys are employed in the raeing stables as jockeys, and are as a rule, growing np in absolute ignorance of everything good. Their whole life is with the' horses, and amid the vicious associations that cluster about their stunted experience. A writer in the American describes a party of five little jockeys whom he came upon in a road-side inn, near the place referred to above, playing pool for the drinks, which was invariably whisky. They were between ten and fifteen years of age, all drunk. No one interfered in the d.sgracefnl situation, but as the writer says, with bitter sarcasm: “The scene was much too funny to be disturbed. The blasphemy was so piquaut when uttered by smooth lips, the coarse jests so much more diverting than those of men, and the drunkenness so jolly because the inebriates were callow. A box was set for a lad to stand on in attempting a shot. He missed the ball, lost his balance and fell under the table. That raised a roar of laughter, so comical was it to see a ten year old sot.” Union Signal. TEMPERANCE ITEMS. The majority of the five to ten cases of insanity daily taken to Bellevue Hospital for examination are caused by intemperance.—N. V. Sun. Prof. C. Gilbert Wheeler, on* o: the most skillful chemists of this city says that he does nos know of the druo in medicine which can not be prepare* for use as well without alcohol as witk it.— Union Signal. “It is rather strange, but there goes a man who can never keep money.’ - “ Nothing strange about it. He can’t keep money because he can’t keei something else.” “What’s that?” “ Sober.’” Williamsport Breakfast Table. It costs about forty-five cents per gallon to make the best quality of whisky Those who are accustomed to pay ten or fifteen cents for “ two fingers” of th< fluid can make their own estimate of the profit that, somebody makes oft’ theii unfortunate appetite.— Chicago Tribune. One of the most striking facts developed in our attempts to enforce the laws against those who are selling intoxicants to children, keeping saioons open on Sunday, and in other ways violating the law is the readiness with which such persons invoke the protection of the law whenever the slighest occasion offers. If one of their customers, who is peaceable and quiet when sober, disturbs their peace while undei the influence of the liquor they have sold him, they at once summon the ofofficors of the law and ask to be protected. There should be a reciprocity in these matters. The man who seeks th protection of tho law should come prepared to show that lie is law-abiding That the law may protect all. each is u duty bouoU to yield. tbfdlege.