Pike County Democrat, Volume 14, Number 41, Petersburg, Pike County, 22 February 1884 — Page 3

MB COUNTY UMOCRIT. PnMliilied Kvery FridayPETERSBURG, - - INDIANA. TEE CYCLONE. It was June; ou the Hills of Atoka, The robin sang out his Eureka, Above the rimmed crest Ot his circling nest, - ' In which were the young, To which ho now sung: I have found It—Eureka! Eureka! Jt was June on the meadows of clover, t was June in the heart of the lover. It was Juno in the oornb t\ here the bet s made their home. As they hummed the low tune, It is June, it in June, rFF wind all nature repeated it over. w p, how the sun shone on that moraine, it seemed to only give warning » That Hcavon was near. Never fear, never fear; The lark's song and liunct Had such music in It, As said: Have pood cheer, never fear. The young farmer went forth to his plowing, With a joy as he thought ot the growing. With the harvest to come To gladden the home; And he whistled and thought Of what shou d be bought From the harvest of plowing and sowing. And the young wife looked forth ou hor Joy, Twin blessiug.a bright girl and boy, As now hand in baud They climbed furrows of land Toward Ibe Biiot where he plowed. Their lather, to proud, And In cottage and held there was joy. I see a shadow. Up tho west It creeps—now bovo the wooded crest Two shadows moot in one embrace, Each with an anger-in its face; They grapple and go round and round In sweeping circles toward the ground. Beep are thoir groans, fierce is the breath That tolls of ruin, wreck and death. Ah, bow they whirl through orchard branch, And grind the trees like avalanche. They toss through black and maddened air The toil and fruitsof years of care! Now where the peaceful ktne were fed It raises beam of barn alid shod. And leavos tile manglod berder dead, pb, waieh it now and breathe s prayer. Bike springing beast from out his lair It whirls and swoops about the spot Where stands the farmer's peaceful cot, Bike one wldte Wake of Hooey 6now That winter winds have loved to toss 'Cross some bleak hill or hollow low Until aadd the whole 'twas lost. So that white cot was upward borpo - And racked and seamed and outwnrd tom; 'Twas scattered many a field aerost. And, like the breath of snow, was lost. On swept, the giant, fierce and black, Ol send your pitying glances back Across that ield where happiness So late was bonding to caress. And Soe where, in ono passing breath. Bile, happiness, are crushed to death.

The mother, rising1 from the ground, With many a ghastly, bleeding wound, Among theniinpeer$ around: She nears no voice—all is as still As silence on a dead sea calm; Not e’en a bird essays to trill— Hushed ewynote of nature’s psalm. She calls tqfeir names, and mockingly An echomnsvWTs from the air, i And thetrme upward looked and looked. As though she thought to flud them there, ’Till, stumbling on a brokon beam, Her eyes are brought once more to ground. 1b it the horror of a dream? No, there her treasures fast ai*o bound. Close in their father’s arms they lie, But death has closed oach love-lit eye. She tries to wrench the beam away Until the b ceding hands grow' weak; Then, kneeling there, she clasps their clay, And kisses oach dead lip, and cheek. With stony gaze and tearless eye She asks the unanswered question: Why? ’Till, maddened by the awful spoil _ Of loss, and loneliness, and grief, She rocked as rocks upon the swell A life-boat o’er a ragged reef, And cried their .frames, and whispered soft: •' Wake, husband, darling,” as she oft Had woke them from their morning nap, ■JOr him. the husband, from his dreams. To take the darlings on his lap, All in the blight'ning morning beams. And there the tender neighbors found The mother, seated on the ground, Trying the oft-repeated task. By hearts that bleed, and hearts that break. To bathe deat h, and bring to life The sleepers that will never wake. It was June on the hills of Alelca, No robin sang out his Eureka, For the tree and the nest Were swept 1 .y the blast, - And the red-breasted young To Which he tiad sung _Were dead, on the liills of Aleka. Three graves on the hills of Aleka, And a stone, with tword, Eureka. Past the storms that may sweep, And the team-that wq weep; Past the earth’s fickle wind, In a beautiful land, They have found it, Eureka! Euroka. t —C- Burdick;, in Chicago Inter Ocean, THE WITCH’S BING. A Midnight Adventure in a New gland Grave-Yard. A very curious, sleepy old village i8 Adlingtune. Half a century behind the rest of the world, it still sits between the green hills of an Eastern State, with .v its elbows on its knees and its ohin in its hands, musingr on by-gone days, When old King George held the land under his sway, and when, as its okl^ilk sagely remark, things were not as they are now. There are a great many old people in Adlingtune—in fact verjr few die young there, "hie atmosphere is so dreamy and peaceful that excitement can-not exist, and the wear and tear of the busy world is unknown, « or at most only hums faintly,over the bill 8, like the buzzing of ally on a sunny pane on a summer day. And so they Still sit in their chimney-corners from year to year, and muse, and dose, and dream, until they dream their lives away and take their tinal sleep. It was to ain old crone of this description that I was indebted for my adventure.

in me course 01 my idle ramblmgs about the village I chanced one day to peer over a crumbliug?wall and discovered an eld, disused burial ground. .The brown slabs were broken, prostrate and scattered, with only here and there a forlorn u nsteady stone standing wearily and waiting for the time to conje when it, too, might fall down and rest with the sleepers beneath. Scrambling over the low wall 1 stooped about among the grass, pushing away the tangled masses of vines and leaves from the faces of slabs that I might read the inscriptions there. But the suns and storms of over one hundred years had obliterated nearly all the letters, so that only portions of names and dates remained. Finally, down in a deep corner of the inclosure, where the weeds grew densest and the shade was darkest, I found, an old stone which, leaning forward, had protected its face from the storms, and on this stone I read the words: BABBAHA CONWAIL. Born lero, Bibb 1730. Acb. Sixty Years. tlOBino been lawfully executed for the practice of witchcraft. My curiosity was at once aroused. I inquired of several persons as to the history of this woman, but without success for a time. Finally, however, I found an old woman, who told me the history of Barbara Conwail, as it had been handed down by her ancestors: Living in an old stone house at the edge of the village, she was rarely seen —for ao one! ever crossed her threshold— save when she was occasionally met by a frightened party of children idling away a summer’s afternoon's holiday in the -woods, when she would scowl and pass away, stooping along over the fields, gathering herbs with which to Brew _ her mighty potions. No one ever interfered with her, however, uutil a sad year caine to Adiingtune. An epidemic broke out and raged With a ltiry that nothing oould withstand. People began to mutter that Barbara the witeh was the cause of it. Passing along the road she was stoned by a party of boys, to whom she turned, anti, shaking her bony hand, shrieked that the ourse was upon them. Two of ti e lads sickened and died in a few da;w, and though scores were carried away in a like manner, an especial import was attached to theii ■Ml Barbara began to be watched, r looked through her windows at aitd found her bending over a herbs, - gSf

So when one morning a mjtn came into town bruised and covered with mmd, and testified that as he rode past old Barabara’s house, at twelve o’cloak the night before, he saw the Arch Fiend and the witch in conversation upon the house-top,* surrounded by flames and laughing fiendishly in the lurid glare as they shook their fists at the plaguestricken village sleeping below, his tale found ready credence. The fact that ho Was an habitual drunkard, and had on more than one occasion rolled from his horse in a drunken stupor and passed the night in a ditch, dreaming wild dreams, did not; in the least detract from the belief of the villagers in his account of this scene; and when he related how this pair of demons had pounced upon him. and had first tortured and then thrown him senseless into a ditch, their indignation became u noon Hull able. • Old Barbara was tried, condemned and hanged, though she protested in her innocence to the last. The little sum of money found in her possession was used to buy that grave-stone—as no one would dare appropriate it—and to this day if anyone were bold enough to go to her grave at; midnight on the same day of the year on which she was hanged and say: “Barbara, I believe you were innocent,'1 at, the same time stretching out his hand over the grave, she would appear to him and plaee in his hand a talisman. This talisman would bring good fortune as long as he retained it, but at some time tu his liie the witch would return to him and claim her own. The old woman ended her story in a low, impressive mouotone, which, with her earnestness and slncors belief in what she said, almost carried conviction to me in spite of reason. As 1 sauntered away, ridiculing these ignorant and superstitious village folk, 1 found myself almost unconsciously wandering hack through the old burial: ground to the witch’s grave. .Carelessly glancing at the inscription, I was surprised to find that very day was the one hundred and fiftieth anniversary of her death, and still more surprised when the thought occurred to me oi watching at her grave that; night. 1 ridiculed and scoded the idea. Where was my boasted common sense and incredulity? But, still returning eVerl eamo that wayward, thing called fancy —and it conquered.

ine worm was wim ana weira that, night, when I stole forth from the vil lage. The wind was. moaning through black clouds were driven ia broker, patches across the sky, now letting down the moonshine, and again shrouding all in blackest night, and making the shadows chase each ether about and steal around corners upon one in a manner that made me wince in spite of myself. Climbing the low stone wall —rather nervously, I confess—I stole away through tile old, down-trodden. 'graves, pushing thi-ough the weeds anti briars as silently an possible, and making my way towards that dark and* dreary corner where the old witch reposed. A grave-yard at noon is a Very different spot from a grave-vard at midinight, especially if one is there to seek an interview with a spirit. I reached the pls.ee and stood by the tomb. It still lacked a few minutes cf twelve, and as I stood there watching the moonlight flitting over t he graves I longed for a little ray to creep in with me. But no—approaching and receding and wavering all about me, it never touched this grave, but fled away as oilon as it approached, as though frighiU cued at the black shadow forover lurking thero. By and by the village clock tolled twelve. As the slow, tremulous tones stole out on the night the wind ceased moaning, the clouds covered the face of the moon, the insects stopped chirping, and when the last stroke was finished the almost unbearable silence was broken ouly by my own breathing, which I strove in vain to suppress. "The darkness was intense and I could see nothing. A terrible feeling^of'guilt and terror seized me, that I, a mortal, should be intruding there at such an hour'. Mechanically I strove to - speak the words I had been told, but my lips refused to form a sound. Still I stood in that awful black silence, chilled with fear, until with a mighty effort-I reached out my aria over the grave and grasped—a hand It Was only for an instant—not that;,for it was jerked away in a twinkling— but long enough to feel how warm and velvety it was and how small. Not that I lingered,, there to reflect upon these novel qualities in the hand of a ghost, and an old witch at that, for you altogether mistake my bravery in supporting it; but it was after I had cleared the old wall at a bound and was on the moonlit road, walking at a rattling good pace towards town, that I recalled it. " From, a state of intense cold I had changed to burning heat. The touch of those soft fingers thrilled me through as w.ith an electric shock, and I walked faster still in my excitement. Gradual! y the consciousness forced itself upon me that I held something in my clenched the trees and sobbing

be that I had enty-five, btt usy life had iinuus. iirere was urst a gutter ana then a sparkle, s,s the moonlight fell into the hollow of my upraised ha-mi, and I saw there a glittering ring set with flashing stones. The icicles began slipping down my back again, and I hurried on. Some persons may be inclined to doride my nervousness on this occasion, but I assure such that I am not naturally a timid man. I have a medal hanging in my room at home which asserts that I am not a timid man. and above all I had always been particularly void of superstitious fear; but truth compels me to say that I not only lighted all the lights on reaching my room at the little inn that night, but turned them very high into the bargain; and that I made a systematic inspection of all the closets and removed from its peg a long cloak that was hanging in a very suggestive position on the wall. This domi, I sat down—with my back against the wall—and examined the ring. It was a quaint old ring, curiously carved and massive. The setting was composed of several small colored stones set in a circle about a large di»v mond. My financial circumstances had rendered it unnecessary for me to acquaint myself with precious stones and their values, so that'1 could only siu<mise that the ring w$s somewhat vaHufrble. Considering t he exeiting conditio a of my nerves by this time, it was ne t strange that I should start when my eye fell upon the name that was inscribed in quaint ’ the grave-yard, the ring and (this was returned to me the oftenest) the ling touch of the so't *»•"<* *«■ mess. Perhaps I should sa, |[ called myself ait old oaoneior, aim had never been in love—that is, with any mortal. 1 did not think that l[ was devoid of sentiment or feeling, foi* I often dreamed of love, and wc>r shiped beautiful things 01! my own fancy, but my lifts had been throwi among boys and men, and woman wan far away and a mystery. A motherless home, a stern fath sr, a hard working student’s life at college, n stranger struggling for broad and reputation it itgrt could atnee ive how it. v acquaintIn reality I was much experience feel older; a bachelo r, my

tried to remember that Barbara the witch, was an old, ugly woman. The only picture 1 could call up was that of a beautiful young girl with—but words fail me; only she was far from ghastly, but was as warm and substantial and full of life as that hand had seemed to be. The fire-irons fell with an unearthly clatter and started me out of my dreams. 1 went to bed to soothe my nerves with sleep, and lay awake most of the night with the lamps burning. Fortune smiled upon me from that night- Two years of busy city life had passed, and old Barbara’s talisma n was still unreclaimed, when one day—do you believe in-love at first sight? Well, if the first appearance of Walter Wyman’s sister had not conquered me as she stood under the parlor lamps, a revelation of beauty and ycutli, the touch of her hand when she welcomed her brother’s friend would have enslaved me forever. Never had a touch so thrilled me since—since 1 he?d the witch’s hand in the grave-yard.; The same peculiar shock passed through me, and the memory of that spectral night came over me like a flash. But I did not start out to tell a love story. Let me briefly say that, I; fell in love, hopelessly and ridiculously in love, and that I acted just like all lovers have done since the world began. It doesn’t matter much about a man’s age. At twenty-seven he will conduct himself pretty much as he would have done at seventeen, and so I wrote verses and sighed, and tormented myself with a thousand hopes and fears, and grew hot and cold by turns, and wonderfully timid, and prided myself upon concealing it all, when, as a matter of fact, the state of my feelings was perfectly apparent to all my acquaintances. Matters were in this interesting state, when one day an opportunity occurred of which I availed myself with a degree of skill and presence of mind that I am proud of to this day. It all came about through my asking the young |ady if she believed in ghosts. I. “I supposo I should,” said she,: laughing, “considering my experience.” Leave a woman alone to make an evasive answer. Of course, 1 implored an explanation and she related to me the following-story: “ It was about two years ago when a party of girls, just home from school, were. visiting a friend down jin the country. One of the girls had heard a foolish old story about" a witch’s grave, and some nonsense about her annual appearance, and a talisman, and when 1 expressed my incredulity, they braved me to put it to the test. What is %e matter? The placo? A little town

uau^u Aumijiium;. “ Foolishly I accepted tbeir challenge and received a terrible fright. 11 carried out the instructions and stretched my arm over the grave. It was so dark I could've nothing, but some one seized my hand. I was so beiniinbed with fear that I could not cry but, but could only fly through the lonely graveyard to were my trembling companions were awaitkig me in the field. It was a foolish adventure, for I fell ill, and it cost me a valuable ring, which, was left to me by po >r Aunt Barbara. •For her little name sake,’ she said when she sent it across the sea to me. You see, the ring was a little large for my finger and was pulled off by—by—” “ By me,” I interrupted, taking the lost ring from my pocket. It was time for Barbara (I forgot to say that her was name), to be startled now. I hope I may say that I came out strong on that occasion. I told ray story in a very impressive way, lingered over the efl'e t of the witch’s hand on my heart, spoke of the good fortune the talisman had brought me, made a very pretty allusion to Barbara the witch reclaiming her own—for she was/hot a witch, after all, as I could testify, having felt her charms—and finally hot, only offered to return the ring but to give myself into the bargain. / She took both. —Son Francipeo Argonaut. V ' / ! .. 4* nN cJ 1 Styles for Gentlemen During the; Coming Season. i. The reports of fashions for this spring and summer of 18811 have been deceived by the Hartford tailors. They; give a full description of the popular Styles in dress for gentlemen which prevail among the leaders of the fashion in New York. The season will show a marked tendency toward frock coats. ’ A disposition prevails to wear frock suits made from many of the rougher and; coarser fabrics, and it is considered certain that the double-breasted frock will lie much patronized, though it is presumable that it will not be confined to the more staid and staple goods. The single-breasted straight frock is becoming quitd^ prominent garment, with a disposition towards a variety of goods fora change. From present appearances frock suits, both single and double, made from different kinds of business suiting, will be one of the principal features fn dress during the season, the entire suit being of the same goods. Gay frock suits will also be much in favor.

ihe single-blessedness cutaw ay in a number ot forms will be the principal suit. The four-button walking-coat will be about as popular as ever, though patronage will be divided between the different styles of the single-breasted walking or morning suits. The one-button morning coat is being revived. The •five-button cutaway is also being introduced, and an effort is on foot: for the revival of the three-button coat. These introductions will tend to divert attention from the four-button coat suit, which has been more universally worn by all classes than any other style. Sack suts, both single and double, will be in use, though the single-breast-ed sack suit will be in more general use than the double. The five-buttonstraight front is the newest shape. In overcoats the close-fittingdly-front sack and the loose-fitting box coat will be the prevailing styles. The loose coat is gaining in favor, being; considered by many as a more select style than the close fitting. The introduction of the whits vest is the most prominent change in; the dress-suit. There is the usual agitation about changing the style of fulldress suits, but pyithout much practical result. The dress suit as it now prevails is correctly a regulation dress the world over, and it will be a difficult work to revolutionize the style. A man in traveling can take his dress-spit with him and find it in order, wher ever he may be. Society people of all countries wear it. The style in trousers is a happy medium, not too loose, but just loose enough; not too tight but just tight enough for good looks and comfort. The prevailing style of business vest is the siDgle-breasted, with or without collar, suiting the wearer’s preference. Some effort is being made, however, to introduce the double-breasted vest, made from fancy patterns. Not much stress is laid upon the movement, and it is as likely to disappear as not. There is no novelty in the style of hats. The style, both in the silk hat apd Derby, is very conservative. In shoes the pointed shoe is out of use, and a medium gaiter or buttonshoe is considered the correct-thing. Fancy and radical Btyles, in a word, are disappearing, and the quiet in taste has the strongest bold at present.—Eartford Post. —The Portland Oregonian tails the following story: “ In Oregon City there is a large apple-tree in the Methodist Church lot that is a curiosity. It was planted in 1842. The tree bears two kipds of fruit; but, strange to say, the different kinds appear ot years.”

Value ef flood Tillage. A well-known mud successful fanner says “he is getting to think that with thorough cultivation and a proper rotation of crops so that he can nave a-good clover and grass sod to plow under onoe in five years or so, on good land, he can get along with -very little manure and yet grow good paying crops.” The time has come when this should be adopted as the fundamental principle of good farming. We have been going along for too many .years wasting onr inheritance in the soil. It is said, and truly, in a sense, that the soil is inexhaustible. The soil can never be wholly carried away by t!ae crops grown upon it and the surface of the earth denuded to bed rock by agriculture. That is what is meant by the commonly expressed idea that' the soil can not be wholly exhausted. But we have seen, a field, not yet twenty years cleared of the virgin forest, unable to produce a crop of oats a foot high, or five hundred pounds of hay to the acre, and simply by the constant growth of grain upon it. Practically that land was exh austed, for it could not be wo:rkcd with profit at all, and required a large expenditure in one way or another for manure to bring it again into productive condition. Over the fence, on an adjoining farm, was a field which in the same twenty years had been in clover and grass five times, and had been pastured five times. It was then bearing a crop of wheat, sown after a sod had been plowed in, and which would easily have yielded two tons of hay to the acre, and the wheat Sroduced over forty bushels per acre. 'his soil was then as good and rich and productive as when the timber was cleared off from it, forty years before, but it had been well tilled, there had been a proper rotation of crops, and a good grass and clover sod had been plowed under at regular intervals. But another question meets us right here. When laid has been worked for forty or fifty years, and the farmer is met with strong competition from cheap grain grown on new land and oheap land in the far West, he can not afford to grow even forty bushels of wheat per acre w ith sufficient profit if he has to sacrifice two tons of hay to the a re once in live years to keep his land in good condi tion, and without this, or its equivalent in manure, he knows he can not preserve the fertility of his land. He must find some other product that will pay him better and yet maintain his farm in a productive condition. There is but one thing that can be done, and that is to Feed live stock. The dairy promises the most profit if skillfully managed and the product is of high quality, otherwise it is crushed by

tne wicked (peca.ise irauaiuent; competition of the adulterator who sells lard and tallow for the real product of the cow. Beef cattle come next in profit, and the purchase of at least one head per acre of stock cattle and the feeding of these upon the straw, hay, roots and grain produced, with some purchased feeding stuffs in place of grain, will afford a handsome money protit and leave s. very large quantity of manure for the hind. Sheep also afford a very satisfactory profit, and especially when lambs are reared for market. A hundred sheep can be easily fed from the surplus fodder of a fifty-acre farm and three or four acres of roots, and if these arc bought early in the fall and turned upon the stubbles with a couple of good South-Down rams, and are well fed with a small daily ration of bran and corn, there will be sixty nun-lambs to bo sold before Jlay at an average of six or seven dollars each; as many ewe-lambs left to be reared and fifty ewes fatted and sold . in June, with one hundred fleeces besides, and leaving; fifty of the best of the ewes and sixty ewe-lambs for the next year’s feeding! Or if it is found best to sell off the whole flock in June the profit will be the value of one hundred and twenty lambs and the difference in value of the ewes, probably two dollars each, leaving the wool and manure to pay the cost of feeding and care, which they will do with a liberal bonus. The profit from such a flock has been over $1,000 on an expenditure of $350 for the ewes and rams when the owner has been *. skillful shepherd. But experience is ve ry soon gained in this business if one will begin small the first year and is shrewd and observant, as every farmer ought to be. As fattening cattle use up only four per cent, of the fertilizing elements of the food, and sheep only five per cent., and the remainder goes inno the manure, and as the small per cent, of the food pays in increased flesh and fat for the whole of it, what is saved in the manure is an enormous help to the land; and with the aid of the four or flve»per cent, of food purchased everything taken from the soil is returned to it. In this way our farms can be kept improving ana our incomes from toe farms made larger than in any other way that is so safe and easy.—Henry Stewart, in £f. Y. Times,

Home Comforts for Formers. The comfort of the farmer’s family should not be overlooked. Very old farm-houses, and those that are cheaply built for temporary use until a better can be afforded, are often most uncomfortable in severe weather. Windows and doors admit the external air more freely than is required for ventilation. Weather-strips made of India rubber are very effective, but they are not to be had everywhere, and require more of an outlay than is always'convenient. A little ihgenuitj' will provide substitutes. For the windows, place small wedges between the upper and lower sashes, to prevent rattling, then paste on strips of brown paper to close all the cracks, using stiff flour paste, or that made from rye meal with a little alum added. It is well to leave one upper sash to bn let down, as may ba required for ventilation. Doors may be made tight by tacking tailor’s listing or folded strips of woolen cloth along the sides ana tops. The opening at the bottom of doors is usually the largest. For these, take pieces of small scantling, of the proper length, and cover with old carpet or other convenient fabric, stuffing the side Which goes against the door, with wool, cotton, or even with hay, to make a sort oi cushion. While it is well enough to have the kitchen door open directly into the room in summer, it is very uncomfortable for the inmates in winter. If possible, a storm-door which can be closed before the kitchen-door is opened, should be provided. This may be made in such a manner as to lie taken away in warm weather and stored for future use. Sleeping rooms 5n farm-houses are usually cold. Those who suffer from eold feet should not be deterred from making themselves comfortable through fear of being thought “old-womanish.’' If one can not sleep on aoconnt of i mid feet, he should warm them. Bottles of hot water will answer, but are not so good as blocks of soap-stone. Blocks of hard-wood, that have no turpentine, M placed in' the stove oven early in the e vening, will be found excellent foot-warmers. In driving in the country in very cold weather, a foot-warmer of some kind will add greatly to the comfort of those making the journey.—American Agri—To keep a dog Mm killing sheep it is recommended that the animal be tied for a day or two to a saucy old buck. He will become no disgusted with his company that he will never want to see a sheep again. --£ it freshet in Smith’* nty. Ore., sixty oow« weire drowned.

CSEFtJl USD SCGGESTIYE. —A well- managed kitchea insures comfort to the home.—A'. T. Times. —To rpast meat salt it the evening before, put into a bread-pan; poor in one pint of cold water; have the oven hot □n^il the meat is seared over well; then rive it a slower fire. You can tell when Ehe desired point is reached by sticking a fork into it, as the blood Will :!ow fi not done.—Boston Globe. —A fanner is mentioned ly the Chatham (N. Y.) Courier who. upon first turning a horse into the field leads ' him along the wire fence and brings his nose a few times in contact wi ;h the barbs. After that experience the intelligent animals keep at a safe distance, and none have been Injured. —Hero is a suggestion which should be borne in mind- When von have the wood-work in a room painted it is a good plan to have about two inches of the floor painted also; have the paint the same color as that of the baseboard; then if, when changing eirpets, the carpet will not come close to the wall the little space left will not be so unsightly.—N. T. Mail. —To cook steak, have a frying-pan or skillet large enough to lay the steak in nice and even. You can not cot k well without the proper utensils. Be tr that in mind. Salt and pepper to s.lit the taste. Put into the frying-pan butter and lard of equal.parts. Let it get hot so as to sear the meat quick, y, apd keep the substance in cover with a tight lid, then cook slowly for a short time, and you will have a juicy *.nd delicious steak.—Albany Journal. —Farmers, as much as any cl ass of men in the world, ought to keep serapboqks, and fill them with agricultural mattor clipped from papers and magazines. Such books are always handy and valuable for the purpose of reference. They are indispensable to men who desire to keep well informed in regard to any profession, science or enterprise, or to know the tone of public opinion as to current topics of tl ought Chicago Journal. —Depth to plow: Find out ho w deep the soil has been enriched and do hot go much below it. Where the subsoil is poor, with only a few inches of rich pound on top, the result of deep plowing would be to turn the poor soil uppermost. On land of ordinary richness a crop of Indian corn will grow better with the same care and manure, if it be plowed only four or five inches deep than if plowed eight or ten inches deep.—N. Y. Herald. —French pancakes: This makes a splendid supper dish: To one quart of flour stir one quart of sweet milk and half cupful of melted butter with a teaspoon even full of salt and one of sugar. Add half cupful of yeast, and when the cakes are very light, two eggs. Beat well and let the mixture stand twenty minutes, when it is ready to bake. Put them "bn a thin spider in round cakes like griddle cakes. Sprinkle powdered sugar over each cake as you bake it, squeeze lemon juice over it and roll up and serve at once.—Boston Post.

Leaks upon the Farm, -It is not uncommon to hear those who make farming^ or, rather, attempt to make farming an occupation, complain that farming does not pay. If such cases are investigated it will be found that the trouble lies, not in farming as an occupation, but in the farmer himself. If a.cistern had a pipe emptying into it at the rate of ten thousand barrels per year, and had forty small pipes (tischarging at the rate of twelve thousand barrels per year, it would be as reasonable to expect the cistern to be tilled as to look for success on the part of a neglectful farmer. It is an exceedingly difficult matter to succeed in filling a vessel with water if it is in suefi a condition that the fluid leaks away nearly as rapidly as it is placed therein, and every farmer knows it; but, at the same tiihq^ihat self-same farmer, whose farm. is subject to continual and numerous leaks, wonders why ho can not succeed as well as his neighbor does, or else complains that farming does not pay. In the first place, commencing with the beginning of the year, if a farmer fails to procure and prepare for use a suitable quantity of fuel for the year, he can mark down a leakage which increases in volume just in proportion as he is obliged to omit more important work to furnish a temporary supply. To be compelled to suspend planting, hoeing, haying or harvesting to get a load of wood and chop it is a' drawback of a serious nature; it is a leak in farming. Another leak is occasioned by want of care of animals during winter, with a view of economizing fodder. An animal that is not carried through the winter in good condition will hardly more than get up in good flesh before the approach Of another winter, and in the case of cows there is a great loss in value and quantity of milk, and in oxen in the amount of labor that they are able to perform, and in young stock in the stunted growth which comes from poor care. Such a practice is a leak in farming that is sometimes quite large. A case comes to mind in which the winter was commenced with fourteen calves, and the spring found only seven alive. It is a serious leak that will allow a calf to slip away. The application of manure may be so injudicious that a large part of its virtue'becomes unavailable. That is a leak of the most serious nature. F or instance, if a soil be sandy or gravelly, if manure is plowed in to any considerable depth, its virtue is carried bv descending water so deep into the earth as to be Deyond the reach of ordinary crops. Manure forms a very important element* in the farmer’s stock in business, and its loss is equivalent to an extensive leakage. The proper''cultivation of crops is a matter that prffl3enfc:i itself very forcibly to every intelligent farmer. All growing plants abstract from the soil a cer

tain amount of fortuity; anil so, if crops are hot >rop irlv tended, the fertility is entirety misdirected when it goes to nourish weeds, to the detriment of the cultivated crops, and this forms another leakage in farming. If crops are not harvested at the proper time th eir value is very much deteriorated. Hay may be allowed to stand until al l the starch, sugar and gums are con rerte d into woody fiber, whereby the same iai not worth for feeding purposes >ne-l alf what it would have been if cu l; in season. This causes a serious leak 1 loth in the value of the hay and In the lifted; upon animals that are compelled t o eal; it The cutting up or harvesting of corn may be so long delayed as to almost wholly ruin th< fodder, whereby another leak is occas ioned. Large quantities of refuse material that would add much to the fertility of a farm, instead, of being accumulated and utilized, are allowed to go to waste and serve no good purpose. Here is another leak that has an important influence on succ ess. Again, good fences are a necessity opon every farm, both for the protection of crops ai d to save time in hunting for strayed animals. Any cause that t^kcs the farmer and his employes irom necessary labor affects the general result, upon the prinple that “time is money,” and time spent in search of estrays is so much labor or time ft r labor lost from legitimate farm wore; it causes a leak. Now, if any farmem have any leaks of the kind designated, let them commence repairs at once and a year’s experience under the new order of tilings will be of inestimable value in encouraging to bettor things. -HWiom Yeomans, in Boston Qlobe,

Another Bojal Pensioner. To-morrow Prinee Albert Victor, of Wales enters upon his twenty-first year, so that it is possible that Parliament may before very long have to consider the'question of a separate establishment for his royal highness. In such a case the Legislature would be wholly unassisted by precedents directly in point. Never yet in our history has the eldest son of a Prince of Wales come of age during his father’s lifetime and before his father’s accession to the throne. Frederic, son of George II., who went nearest to doing so, was twenty years and a few months old when, in 1727,.the latter be came Jfing; It would, however, be misleautng to compare the status of Prince Albert Victor with that of his ancestor, who never set foot on England till a year and a half after he had succeeded to the position of heir-appar-ent to the crown. Prince Frederic, indeed received the garter in his fifteenth year and a peerage (with the title of the Duke of Edinburgh) in his twentieth; but scarcely any other oilicial cognisance was taken of his existence as an English Prince. No eldest son of a Prince of Wales, being such, has married; and there is only one instance of a marriage being contract'd by the daughter of a Prince of Wales. Mutatis mutandis, it is to be presumed that the case of the Princess Charlotte would have most weight with Parliament in the event of its being applied to for a provision for Prince Albert Victor. It may be added that annuities have been ! granted more than once in the present reign to the children of a younger son of an English sovereign.— St. James' Gazette. —A gentleman while passing along a Hartford (Conn.) street recently noticed the singular actions of what first appeared to be a couple of sparrows in the frozen sleet of the gutter, tied together, neck and legs. Upon further examination, however, he discovered that one bird was feeding the other. The benevolent bird started off when the gentleman came too close, and attempted to carry off its helpless comf anion, but was of course unsuccessful, t was a clear case of sympathy for suffering helplessness; pure bird philanthropy.—Hartford Post. —Noticing the increase in the lectures, papers., addresses, etc., that are presented to the pubic by the bright thinker's of the day upon all sorts of scientific, economic" and literary subjects, an exchange remarks that ‘‘it is a comforting set-off to the intensified worldliness'of fashionable society, proving that the butterfly business has not yet monopolized everything.'1

—The Boston Medical and Surgical Journal says there is now living in Penn Yan, N. Y., a man who, for two years, has had a bullet imbedded in his brain. Before receiving the shot he was dissolute, morose and quarrelsome, but has nqw become a peaeea' le, sober and industrious citizen. The records show analogous cases, but few that arc so well marked. 125 Years Old. Messrs. Francis Newberry & Son, London, England, established for 125 years, write: testimonial from one of tho oldest drug-houses in Great Britain, respecting your household remedy, will no doubt be of interest to you, we are pleased to make tho Statement that we have sold Sti Jacobs Oil with satisfaction to the public for several years, and that owing to the extraordinary merits of tho article, the demand is continually increasing, and that wc have heard of many favorable reports regarding its great virtue as. a pain-curing remedy. A sign in Cleveland reads: “ Ice Kream Sallune,” which is ‘ probably the worst cold spell of the season.—Chicago Journal. Something for all the Preachers. Rev. H. H. Fairall, D. D., editor of the Iowa Methodist, says editorially, in the November (1S83) number of his paper: “We have tested the merits of Ely’s Cream Balm, and believe that, by a thorough course of treatment, it will cure almost every cose of catarrh. Ministers, as a class, are afflicted with head and throat troubles, and catarrh seems more prevalent than ever. We cannot recommend Ely’s Cream Balm too highly.” Not a liquid nor a snuff. Applied to the nostrils with the finger. A warm day for the ladles—Fry day.— N. Y. Mail. •Both Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound and Blood Purifier are prepared at* 233 and 235 Western Avenue, Lynn, Mass. Price of either, $1. , Six bottles for $5. Sent by mail in the form of pills, or of lozenges, on receipt of price, $1 per box for either. Mrs. Pinkham freely answers all letters of inquiry. - Inclose 3c stamp. Send for pamphlet. Mention this paper. The man who hath no music in his soul —The chap who wears rubber boots.—If. Y. Journal. I believe Swift’s Specific has saved my life. I had virtually lost use of the upper part of my body and my arms from the poisonous effects of a large cancer on my neck, from which I had suffered for twenty years. S. S. S. has relieved me of all soreness, and the poison is being forced out of my system. I will soon be well. - W. R. Robinson, Davisboro, Ga. A tenor singes can always secure a hall easier than a bassoj becauso he can go higher. K^Quantity and Quality. In the Diamond Dyes more coloring is given than in any known dyes, and they give faster and more brilliant colors. 10c at all druggists. Wells, Richardson $ Co., Burlington, Vfc. Sample Card, 32 colors, and book of directions for 2c stamp. Cold feet—two feet of snow.—Detroit Free Dress. Hard to Believe. It is hard to believe that a man was cured of a Kidney disease after his body was swollen as big as a barrel and he had been given up as incqrable and lay at death’s door. Yet such a cure was accomplished by Kidney-Wort in the person of M. M. Devereaux, of Ionia, Mich., who says: “ After thirteen of the best doctors in Detroit had given me np, I was cured by Kid-ney-Wort. I want every one to know what a boon it is.”

THE MARKETS. @ 10!4 e 75 5 oo 7 30 5 75 4 80 1 11 1 00 50*4 35 % 57 3 00 050 ® 13 50 @ 38 @ 23 @ 19 00 @ § © 104 »3£ NEW YOKE, February 18,1884. CATTLE-Exports.* 6 75 @# 7 50 COTTON—Middling. @ 1054 FLOUR—Good to Choice. 3 75 ® 6 50 WHEAT-No. 3 Red. 1 104® 1 134 CORN—No. 2. 63*® 0334 OATS—Western Mixed........ 42 @ 43 PORK—New Mess.. 18 00 ® 18 25 ST. LOUIS. COTTON—Middling... .... BEEVES—Exports. 6 40 Fair to Good. 5 75 HOGS—Common to Select_ 6 25 SHEEP—Fair to Choice.. 4 25 FLOUR—XXX to Choice. 3 50 WHEAT-No. Z Winter. 1 09 No. 3 " . 99 _ CORN—No. 2 Mixed. 5054® OATS—No. 3. 3514RYE—No. 2.. TOBACCO-Lugs... 6 50 Medium Leaf. 8 50 HAY—Choice Timothy.12 00 BUTTER-Choice Dairy.; 25 EGGS-Choice. PORK—Hew Mess. 18 50 BACON—Clear'Rib.. LARD—Prime Steam... CHICAGO. CATTLE—Exports. 8 25 @ HOGS—Good toohoioe..*..... 7 10 ® SHEEP—Good to choice. 5 25 ® FLOUR-Winter. 4 SO @ Spring. 4 50 @ WHEAT-No. 2 Spring.... SI3&® No. 2 Red. 1 01 ® CORN—No. 2. 5«4@" OATS-No. 8..... @ POKK-New Mess......... 18 35 @ KANSAS CITY. CATTLE—Native Steers.... .. 5 35 ® HOGS-Sales at. 8 75 ® WHEAT-No. 2. @ CORN-No. 2 mixed.. ® OATS—No. 2. ® NEW ORLEANS. FLOUR-High Grades.. 6 15 @ CORN-White. ® OATS—Western.46 ® HAY—Choice. 17 00 PORK-Mess...:. 18 50 BACON—Clear Rib.... COTTON—Middling. LOUISVILLE. WHEAT-No. 2 Red.. 103 < CORN-No. 2 Mixed. ( OATS—Mixed Western. 374— PORK-Mess. ® 18 BACON-Ciear Rib...... @ COTTON—Middling. ® 7 00 7 65 , 550 5 85 5 25 9414 1 Oi 5414 3314 18 3T4 6 75 7 30 874 590 60 47 ® 17 50 ® 19 (JO 10* 1014 1 05 63 104 VH

A HOTELS 3Y0BY. id tin War *SW> Ke «h xiaailr a*.v«S. iOoumpawdcnc* Spirit of the Timet.) Ait ttattstud adventure which recently occurred toy oar correspondent while bunting at Broakiasm in this Stats is so timely and ocstalne so much that can be made ▼alltable to ail readers,- that i venture to reproduce It entire: , Yha day was a most inclement one end the snow suits deep. Babbit tracks were plentiful, but they principally led in the direction ui a large swamp, in which the rabbits could run without difficulty, but where the hunter constantly broke through the thin ice, sicking into the half-frozen mire to his knees, Notwithstanding these difficulties, the writer had persevered, although a very small bag of game was the result. While tramping about through a particularly malo-isl portion of the swamp, a middle aged man suddenly came into view carrying a muisle loading shot-gun and completely loaded down with game of the finest description. Natural curiosity, aside £rciu the involuntary envy that instinctively arose, prompted the writer to enter into conversation with the man, with the following result: “ You’ve had fine success, where did you get all that game?” “ Bight here, in the swamp.” " It’s pretty trough hunting in these parts, especially when a man goes up to his waist every other step.” * *• Yes, it’s cot very pleasant, but I am used to it and don’t mind it.” ‘‘Hnvr long have yon hunted hereabouts?” " bless you, X have lived hero roost of my life and hunted up to ten years ago every year.” “ How does it happen you omitted the last ten years?” •‘Because I was scarcely able to move, much less hunt,” ” I don’t understand you?” V ** W ell, you see, about ten years ago, after I had been tramping around all day in this same swamp, I fait quite a pain in my ankle. I didn’t mind it Tory much, but it kept troubling me for a day or two^ud I could see that it kept Increasing, The next thing 1 knew, X felt the same kind of a pain in my shoulder and I found it pained ice to move my arm. This thing kept going on and Increasing, and though I tried to shake off the feeling and make myself thick it was only a little temporary trouble, I found that it did not go. Shortly after this my joints began to ache at the knees and I finally became so bad that I had to remain in the house most of the time.” “And did you trace all this to the fact that you had hunted so much in this swamp?” “ No, I didn’t know what to lay it to, but I knew that X was in misery. My joints swelled until it seemed as though all the flesh I had left was bunched at the joints; my fingers crooked in every way and some of them became doable-jointed. -In fact, every joint in my body seemed to vie with the others to see which could become the largest and cause me the greatest suffering. In this way several years passed on, during which time 1 was pretty nearly helpless. I beeamc so nervous and sensitive that I would sit bolstered up in the chair and call to people that entered the room not to come near me, or even tonch my chair. While all this was going on, I felt an awful Burning heat and fever, with occasional ciuufe running all over my body, but especially along my back and through my shoulders. Then again my blood seemed to be boiling and my brain to be on fire.” “Didn’t you try to prevent all this

agony. “ Try, I should think I did try. I tried every doctor that came within my reach and all the proprietary medicines I could hear of. I used washes and liniments enough to last me for all time, but the only relief I received was by injections of morphine.” ' “ Well, you talk in a very strange manner for a man who has tramped around on a day like tl ’ s and in a swamp like this. How in the world do you dare to do it?” “ Because I am completely well and as sound as a dollar. It may seem strange, but it is true that I was entirely cured; the rheumatism all driven out of my blood; my joints reduced to their natural size and my strength made as great as ever before, by means of that great and simple remedy, Warner’s Safe Rheumatic Cure, which I believe saved my life.” “ And so you now have no fear of rheumatism?” “Why, no. Even if it should come on, I can easily get rid of it by using the same remedy.” The writer turned to; leave, as it was growing dark, but before I had reached the city precisely the same symptoms I had just heard described came upon me with great violence. Impressed with the hunter’s story, I^tried the same remedy, and within twenty-four hours all pain and inflammation had disappeared. If any reader is suffering from any manner of rheumatic or neuralgic troubles and desires relief let him by all means try this same greet remedy. And if any readers doubt the truth of the above incident or its statements let them write to A. A. Coates, Brookmere, N, Y., who was the man with whom the writer conversed, and convince themselves of its truth or falsity. J. K. C. A health journal tells its readers “How to take cold.” What most of us want to know is how to let go of it.—Burlington Hawkege. J. W. Graham, Wholesale Druggist, Of Austin, Tex., writesI have been handling Dr. Wm.Hall’s Balsam forthe I.ungs for the past year, and have found it one of the most salable medicines I have ever had for Coughs, Colds and Consumption. “ I’m afraid, Bridget, that we will not be able to live together any longer.” “An’ sure, mum, where is it ye’d be goiu’?”—iV. Y. News. Warmers—Try It! Wells, Rhhardson & Co.’s Improved Butter Color will be fouud to be the only oil color that will not become rancid. Test it and yon will prove it. It will not color the butter-milk; it gives the brightest color of any made, and is the strongest and therefore the cheapest. A Messenger of Health. Bent free to sufferers from nervous, chronic and blood diseases, brain and heart affections, nervous debility, etc. It tells of wonderful cures effected by Dr. Scott’s Coca, Beef and Ivon, with Phosphorus. Bold by druggists; $1. Dr. Scott, Kansas City, Mo. “Lies is a riddle.* That is probably the reason why suicides want to get riddle life. —Boston Transcript. Mr. Oliver Mvers,of Ironton.O., says: “5amaritan Nervine cured me of general debility." “A friend is a second self,” but some men wobble along without duplication.— N. Y. Graphic. Hale’s Honey of norehound and Tar If timely used prevents galloping consumption. Pike’s toothache drops cure in one min. “ It quiets the patient, and ultimately cures him.” A late encomium on Samaritan Nervine. Men wear light straw-hats in summer because they are not felt. Sudden Changes of Weather are productive of Throat Diseases, Coughs, Colds, etc. Effectual relief is found in the use of Brown’s Bronchial Troches. The short, lacking cough, which leads to Consumption, is cured by Piso’s Cura.

THE GREAT GERMAN REMEDY For Pain! Believes and cures RHEUMATISM, Neuralgia, SCIATICA, LUMBAGO, BACKAOHX. Ecadathe, Toothache, SORE THROAT, QUINSY, 8WELLING3, »PKA1\», (i) Soreness, Cato, Bruises, FROSTBITES, BUBN5, HAUM, And nil other bodily aches : :» and pates. FIFTt CERTS A BOTTLE. Sold by all Dnjggtsts and Dealers. Directions in 11 ! ’aneuaccs. i Th« Charles A. Togeler Co. j dSwunntta.Toeiuaacoi) Baltimore, Hd., V. B. A.

if aflncted witfr Sore Byes, use Dr. Xs&ao Thompson « Eya Water. Druggists sell it 25c. LIVELY SHSA^ilfKSSf MRK^STR Books end Bibms for AOKJfTS. ?«a<S tor Cireutarj *n4 EXTRA LIBERAL rs to auis puBiJtsaisG Co- at. toils. Mo. LUM TILiiMPHY SSASSSSM chance ever offered. Ad. J. IX EHOW v. Mgr., Sedalia, Mo. , _5 WAST 9*1 Ab«»* in tfcln county to eptahJfth ; .our CirceSend c&Btgfor •MfeeSM* to ALVOBD BROTH

$250 sfiH&s®**-1 in the world. l**m\ BBQKsox. i>mo MWHTtttMTTWgL. ■ J ffm*rhine in o in geuinjej CTBX OKKAT IHBirCH Has cared thousands dying eurlaJ or Blood Dliwi I Wi‘SBur^KUI grow them * *■" before SEEDS write for my splendid Uln strafed A1 rX£K. H. W. BUCKBEE. Box If m and test! They aroSBtfFR *ST- BEBNIRD VEBET&SL£ pills.* ' 11 if If * fegggJB8«aaSg> ■HSt Beaard PiU Makeri S3 Mercer St .lfeir y3L jar a W b UTKD-Men and Women to ttvt ft new* business ftt thetr homes, easily learned In an hour. No peddling; 10c to 50c an hour made daytime or evening Send lOe for *o samples to commence woric on. Ad dress H. CK FAY, Rutland, Terawt.

rLady AgentsSS^s an<l foot’. saiary selling Qflteea ifcw '£jfelfefS*3SK£ ^Clly S4Mpendct»C©.,C Jadnnati.a

“THE BEST IS THE CHEAPEST." i SAW Cil m&SEC threshers,' MILLS, hNllIllS«wHoistPowhs, (For al I sections and pnrpoees.) Write for Frw Pamphlet and Prices to The AuStmiui A Tailor Co., Mansfield, OLlo.

RUSSELL & CO.’S ANNUAL.

Jnat issued. Sent free to all iuten-8tpdlnl«&« SsveU Tbreablng a«blne». H»r*s M?1U ’and * Enrt

ror f arm ana rianianon u»c - . kumg RUSSELL & CO., Massillon, O. PATENTS Procured or no charge, also Trade Marta, L*hek. elo Unto </l..C-ofc<t t«* »/ Imw peri-mot*. Highest references. W T. FITZGBRALD, attorney at Law, 1006 F street, Washlngtan.D.C. Easy to use. A certain cure. Not expensive. Three months’ treatment in one package. Good for (Ada in the Head, Heartache, Wariness Hay Fever, Ac. Fifty cents. F* in its efficacy,that I will send TWO BOTTLESFREE, together with a VALUABLE TREATISE on this disease, to any suflerer. Give Express and P. O. address, DR. T. A. SLOCUM, 181 Pearl SU, New York.

, CHICAGO SCALE CCfc T 2 TOR WAQ09 SCALE, *40. 2 T05, f50. «4 Ton 860, Brain Box Include*!* 240ilb. FARWIER*8 SCALE, $5. The . ‘Little Detective,” % or. to 25 lb. too OTHER SIZES. Kcdoeed PRICE LIST FREE* FOEGrES, TOOLS, &c. BEST FORtiK HADE FOR MONT WORE, ftRy 40 ll>. Anvil and Kit of Tool*, *10. Farawn ui« time and money dolnt odd Jobs, i Blowers, Anvils, Vicos * Other Articled 'AT LOWEST PRICKS, WHOLESALE * RETAIL.' >

Catarrh

The Eud ol' Pain* twenty years of suffering from catarrh and catarrhal headache I never found anything ing relief to afford lasting i until I tried Ely's Cream Balm. I hate used two battles, and now consider my catarrh cured. I hard recommended It to several of my friends witlj like good results.—D. T. Htgginson. 115 Lake Street, Chlcajjo, IlL Cream Halm causes no pain. Gives relief at once. Cleanses the head. Causes healthy sec r e t! o n s. Abates “inflammation. A thorough treatment

wm cure, not » nquti or sntin. Applied with the finger. Send for circular. Sold by druggists. Mailed fOlr 50 cents. iLY BROTHERS, Druggists. Owego. N. T.

* * LYDIA E. PINKH AM’S . * VEGETABLE COMPOUND *** IS A POSITIVE CUREFO$•• * All those painful Complaints * and Weaknesses so eomnon * * **♦** to oor best ****** * FEXALK 1’OPCLITHOIL** Price $1 la u««:d. pin or ItHtitebnb

* It will cure entirely all Orarian troubles, Inflammation and Ulceration, Falling and Displacement8, and consequent Spinal Weakness, and is particularly adapted to the Change of Life. ***•«••»«,•****• * It remores Faintness.Flatnleney, destroysall crarimf for stimulants, and relieves Weakness of thfe Stomach. It cures Bloating, Headaches, Nervous Prostration, General Debility, Sleeplessness, Depression and Indi gestion. That feeling of bearing down, causing pain, and backache, is always permanently cured by its use. * Send star,in to Lynn. Mass., for pamphlet. letters cl inquiry confidentially answered. For ggleat druggist a ***>******•* ♦ *■**•*****«*•

They who work early and late the year round need, occasionally, the healthful stimulus Imparted by a wholesome tonla like Hostetter*s Stomach Bitters. To alt its parity and efficiency as a remedy 3nd preventive of disease commend it. It checks incipient: rheumatism and malar al symptoms, relioves constipation, dyspepsia and billonsness, arrests nrematu c decay of the physical energli's, mitlKates the tafirmitle* of age and hasten* convalescence. For sale hy all Brugglstd and Dealers generally.

PIERCE’S IMPROVED GAffluN

Broadcast Seed Sower, This machine bows wheat two rods wide, so that % man walking one mile sows four acres and docs' tho work better than can bo done by any other tneana whatever. It sows graso seed and all kinds of grain. Price, six dollars. Wa have Agents in all parts off the country. Send stamp for circular. L.M.R1MSEY MFC!.CO., ST. LOUIS, 10. GKXK&AL JIGJ'.NTS

XX. -NOTICE. -XX. As BLUE FLANNEL Garments , Of Inferior Quality ^f Goods are Bold As the “genuine Middlesex,” which are not, made l»y that mill. The Middlesex Company, in ord'T to protect their customers and the public. give notice rhat hereafter all Clothing made from THE MIDDLESEX STANDARD INDIGO BLUE FLANNELS AND YACHT CLOTHS, sold by all leading clothiers, must; bear the “SILK HANGERS,” furnished by theSelllng Agents to all parties ordering the goods. WENDELL, FAY Sl CO., * SELLING AGENTS MIDD F.3EX COMPANY. 8«»nd«* Worth Sr.. New York; JST Franklin 3L. Boston; *14 Chestnut St., Philadelphia. SKIN HUMOR. My baby six months old broke oat with some kind ot skin humor, and after being treated five months by myfamily physician, was given up to die. The drUggisS; recommended Swift’s Specific, and the effect was ss» gratifying as it was miraculous. My child soon gofcl well, all traces of the disease is gone, and he is as fat aa a pig. J. J. Kirkland,linden. Rusk County, Texas. I have suffered for many years from ulcers on my legs, often very large and painful, during which time t used almost everything to effect a cure, but in vain. I took Swift’s Specific by advice of a friend, mod in* short time was cured sound and well. Edwin J. Mills*. Beaumont, Texas.. Our Treatise on Blood and Skin Diseases mzdled free to applicants^ THE SWIFT SPECIFIC CO., Drawer S,:Atlanta, Ga. w“* ** *-S2"Z ***'

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A SPECIFIC FOR Epilepsy, Spanns, Convulsions, Falling Sickness, Si-Vitua AkcM

£«"»“* ITwtoww, bralnW ony, ^(ooa-ooro,' Biliousness, Cestfw-nes*, Nervous Frost n Kidney Trouble* and Irreg •It cured where ^ ^ •y-Corresponde freely answered 1?L THE BE. S. A. KCHIOKD «ED, CO., All Dru LOSS. STOUTENS OEG *C0., WREN WHITING TO At please say yon saw the advertisement la - this' paper. Advertisers like to know when and where their advertisements arp paying best.