Rensselaer Republican, Volume 14, Number 45, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 27 July 1882 — Page 2

IOBr 1.1 They sent him round the circle fair, To bow before the prettiest there. I’m bound to say tne choice he made A creditable taste displayed; Although— l can't say what it meant— The little maid looked ill-content. ; \ His task w as then anew begun— To kneel betore t ’ie wittiest one. Once more, that little maid sought no, And went him down upon his knee. She bent her eyes upon the floor— I think She thought the game a bore, v He circled then— his-sweet behest To kiss the one he loved the best. * For all she frowned, for all she chid, He kissed that little maid, he did. And then- though why I can’t decide— The little maid looked satisfied. _ro C. Bunner.ln The Century “ Bric-a-Brac.

HILDA'S TRIAL.

BY F. G.

’‘While,” said Carrie Nelson, “with broad, blue sashes, and forget-me-nots in our hair. Every competitor to wear a turquoise locket round her neck, and to have six-buttoned white kid gloves, stitched with pale blue on the backs.” ‘•Won’t it be exquisite!” said Jane Torrington, clasping her plump hands. The seven young girls who were that day month to take part in the half-year-ly examination at Minerva House were sitting, schoolgirl fashion, under the bowery beeches on the lawn—seven fair, human pearls, happily unconscious of all the pitfalls and trials of life that lay before them—seven half opened blossoms, basking in the sunshine of school-life, whither as yet no. haunting shadow had followed them! “But,” said cautious Mabel Hill, “will it be expensive?” “Not at all,” said Carrie, loftily. ■“The whole won’t cost more than ten guineas each, as there are seven of us. Xml-” Just then, Hilda Reynolds, who had been absorbed in a letter which the blue-ribboned parlor-maid had brought her, looked up. “Wait a minute, Carrie,” she said. “I—l am afraid I cannot afford so expensive a.dress.” “What nonsense, Hilda,” called out Miss Nelson. “You, the heiress, to talk about not affording a paltry ten guineas.” “But I am an heiress no longer,” said Hilda; with a curious quiver in her voice. “This letter is from my guardian. It seem* something is wrong about some investments that have been made, and—and I am as poor as a fac-tory-girl. I must go out as governess, l suppose, or companion, or something of that sort.” She burst into tears, with her face hidden in her hands. For a second or two the other six girls sat looking at one another in dire dismay. Then Carrie Nelson sprang up and threw her arms impetuously around Hilda's drooping neck. “You shall do nothing of the sort darling!” she cried. “You shall come and live always with me. I never had a sister, and I shall treasure you with the fondest affection.” But Hilda shook her head. “No, Carrie,” she said; “I must go home at once.” And she went; and Mrs. Clarendon’s class for examination numbered only six that year. Hilda’s guardian was grim and uncommunicative. The loss of the investments, he stoutly* maintained, was nobody s fault No one could have foreseen the deprecation of stocks; no human provision could have guarded against the calamity. It was the fortune of war, neither more nor less. Hilda went to her aunt, who had always declared that she loved her darling niece as if she were het own child. “Dear aunt,” she said, “yon will at least give me a home.” “I am very sorry, my dear,’’saidMrs. Carlyon, “but your uncle has been unfortunate in business, and wo are compelled to retrench in every possible •way. An additional member to our family, just at this time, would* be an absolute impossibility.” “But what shall I do?” inquired poor Hilda. “Oh, get a situation somewhere, my dear,” said Mrs. Carlyon, smiling sweetly. “Any girl who has received so expensive an education as yours ought to be independent of the world.” “Shall I advertise?” said Hilda. “Mydear, I really know nothing of the way people do such things,” said Mrs. Carlyon, beginning to grow impatient, So Hilda advertised; out apparently no one wanted either a governess, or a “well-qualified ladies’ companion.” Her little stock of money began to dwindle. Her earnings failed her. Not one of her relatives cared to assume the burden of her support. No one else took the responsibility of advising her. One day she timidly entered the plate-glass doors of a mammoth fancy warehouse and asked for the proprietor, to whom she explained her wishes. “Perhaps,” hesitated the poor, shrinking Hilda, “you can help me to a situation. If there should be a vacancy -among your lady-clerks—” “How—ha!” said Mr. Cartwright, feeling bis lank cheek thoughtfully. “Had any experience in the business?” “No.” “Ob, then the idea is quite impracticable,” said Mr. Cartwright. “We don’t take apprentices here.” And be oivilly bowed Miss Reynolds OOt of bis little sanctum. « Hilda applied at a neighboring shop for flae, silk embroidery. She worked »*reek’*t a child's cloak, and was paid —seven shillings! - “Bnt*bi»4s very little,” said Hilda, pUemmtf regarding the silver pieces. “Our usual-rates,” said the forewoman, frigidly/ *‘lf vou are uot satisfied with them* yo« need not come again. Wo have treaty of bands.” Hilda crept home in the frozen, win-

——■ ■ v. ■ ■ ter cwuignt, crying softly behind her veil as she went And, her eyes being blurred with tears, she did not see an ill-omened piece of orange-peel on the pavement but slipped and fell breaking her ankle and losing consciousness through the intensity of the pain. When she came to her senses she lay in a little white bed, No. 619, of a great, airy, sweet-smelling hospital, with a white-capped sister Deriding, over her—a woman whom she had known in former days as a gay young girl. “Why am There?” she asked, in vague wonder. “You fell, my dear, and broke your leg’” said Sister Eunice. “It was not convenient for your Aunt Catiyon to receive you, so they brought you here. I recognized you at once, and requested permission to nurse you.” “And why are you here?” persisted Tilda, still only half conscious. • “For two reasons,” said Sister Eunice, spriifkling scented, water over the little white pillow. “One is, that it was necessary for mo to earn my living in some way; another was that I could do some good to my suffering fellow-creatures here.” Hilda made no comment, but sho pondered over that matter; and when she recovered, she also assumed the white cap and black surge dress, and took the name of Sister Hilda. “As a hospital nurse,” she said to herself, “I can at least be sure of a good home, a small salary, and the privege of being of some use to tho world.” Sister Hilda became one of the most popular and efficient of the whole corps of nurses. Her head was cool, her nerve strong, her seir-possession perfectly imperturbable. The of blood never'dismayed her—the of pain only excited her gentle sympathy, instead of chilling her nerves; and it came to pass that whenever Dr. Marston, the head surgeon, needed an especially self-reliant and able nurse, the edict went forth, “Send for Sister Hilda.”

One day there was a terrible accident brought in. A pair of fiery horses had run away, the carriage was all splintered in pieces, its occupant had been flung out upon the pavement.Juntil all semblance of life seemed to be crushed out of him, “Will he die, doctor?” Sister Hilda asked, with a very pale face. “To all intents and purposes, my dear,” the physician answered, “he is a dead man already.” “I knew him once,” said the hospital nurse, in a low tone. “Everyone knows him, I belieVe,” said Doctor Marston. “It is the millionaire, Mr. Fullerton. But all the gold that ever was coined can’t buy him a reprieve now.” And Doctor Marston bustled into tho next ward, leaving the white-capped nurse to keep her solitary vigil at the bedside of the man who was slowly, slowly slipping out of time into eternity. At midnight, he roused up. as if from a dream. “Am I dying?” he asked. The doctor answered—- “ Yes.” “How much time have I left?” “Perhaps three hours—perhaps six,” was the answer. “Send for my lawyer,” he said. “lam in the full possession of my senses. 1 tell you I cannot die until I have made my peace with heaven.” “I oan call the chaplain in a minute,” suggested Doctor Marston“l tell you I want my lawyer,” persisted John Fullerton. ’

The lawyer was roused out of hie midnight slumbers, and came at once, and there, in the hospital ward, John Fullerton made his will, leaving all he had in the world to Hilda Reynolds. “I have defrauded her cruelly,” he said. “I used her money to aggrandise myself, and'let her think it was lost in speculation. I have been an unjusl steward, but it is not yet too late to make some sort of reparation.” “Reynolds!” repeated the doctor, turning to the nurse. “Surely thal must be some relation of yours?” “I am Hilda Reynolds,” she said, quietly, laying aside the white-flapped muslin cap that overshadowed her face The dying man lifted his glazing eyei to hers. “You my ward?” said he. “Thant God for that! .Say once before I die, ‘1 forgive you’!” And Hilda forgave him freely and fully; and when the day broke dimly in the east, the chained spirit was set free. People could hardly credit then senses when they heard that Hilda was an heiress again. Mrs. Carlyon was taken with a violent excess of affection for her “dear niece,” but Hilda had learned the lesson of discernment. “I have passed through an ordeal,” she says, “and I hope it has left me wiser and more merciful toward my suffering fellow-creatures! But at the same time it has taught me to beware of friends like Aunt Carlyon.”

Not this time.

A salesman traveling iu the western country came upon a cross-roads cabin in an unfrequented locality. At the lucky juncture of his arrival the host was stowing away a barrel labelled whisky. With proverbial hospitality, the landlord accosted him, “Just in time, stranger; lend a hand and take a pull.” The traveller pulled, and at length proceeded on his journey. Returning over the same route a week afterwards, he called. Asking for a glass of something, he was astonished by the remark, “Not a drop in tjhe house; sorrv we can’t accommodate you.” “What!” exclaimed the traveller; “didn’t I see you get in a whole barrel a week agoP” “Wal, now, stranger, what’s that in a house with the old woman and five children and no oowP”

AGRICULTURAL.

HorMthoelnc. Some affirm that there is no necessity for shoeing; hones under any circumstances, bat it cannot be avoided in many cases. Horses cannot Work on stone pavements, nor on Mgr roads without being shod. There is no doubt that farm horses sire shod much mace than is needed. On most farms very little attention is paid to the care of horses 1 feet. The dry plank floors of mo6t stables are injurious to feet, having a tendency to make them dry and brittle, instead of tough and elastic as they should be, whether they go without snoeing or not. Earth floors are much the best for the feet, and stone or cement are better than plank. Tbare is much difference in horses, some having flat brittle hoofs, that; will break off and keep them tender footed even while colts in the pasture, and others have tough hoofs that will bear a great amount of wear without shoeing. If those that are brittle, are kept properly trimmed they will not be so liable to break, and if they are kept moist and do not stand on hard dry floors the year round they will often improve. The expense of shoeing and the injury that is liable to be done to the feet by ignorant smiths, render it advisable to do ail tnnfc is possible to prevent the necessity for shoeing; but some attention is needed. If the colt is not shod from the beginning he will get along without shoes much better than if he is shod at first, and afterwards made to go without. Farm horses that go on the road but little and are kept at slow work will do without shoeing, but for driving on the road thei e are few horses and few roads that will enable them to -'o without 6hoes. A horse-shoer should be more than a good mechanic. He should understand the anatomy of the horse’s foot and be able to apply his knowledge in the construction and fitting of shoes to each . individual horse or foot; adapting the shoe to the hoof ind to the work the horse has to do, and not try to make every hoof work to the same style of shoe and fastened in the same manner. Every blacksmith now is a horseshoer vhether he knows anything about a horse or o6t, but the time should come speedily when horse owners shall dernnad for horseihoeing; men of skill in that branch, those who have mastered some of the principles involved and who understand their business. It is cruelty to the horse and loss to the owner to have shoeing poorly done, and it rests entirely with owners and drivers whether it shall be so or not.

A Good Provider.

We sometimes hear a husband spoken of in an admiring way as being 1 * a good provider.” And pray why should he not, be so? And why should he be called generous any more than the member of! any other firm when he keeps the books, receipts the bills and divides the money? In case of the farming business, the share of the wife is so direct and unmistakable that it can hardly be evaded. If anything is earned by the farm, she does her distinct and important share of the earning. But it is not necessary that she should do even that to make her by all the rules of justice, an equal partner entitled to her full share of the financial proceeds, Married people generally divide labor equally ; the woman bears children; the man provides for them. Her task on the average is as hard as his; nay, a portion of it is so especially hard that it is distinguished from all others by the name of “labor.” If it does not earn money it is because it is not to be measured in money while it exists—nor replaced by money if lost. If a business man loses bis partner ie can obtain another; and a man, no doubt, may take a second wife, but he cannot procure for his children a second mother. Indeed it is a palpable insult to the whole relation of husband and wife when one compares it, even in a financial light, to that of business partners. Yet she enjoys none of the privileges of a member of the firm. The money made is not divided between the pair; the female partner must ask for her pittance. One of the very best wives and mothers I have ever known, whose husband was of a most generous disposition and denied her nothing, once said to me whenever her daughters should be married she should stipulate in their behalf with their husbands for a regular sum of motaey to be paid them at certain intervals for their expenditures. “ I suppose no man,” she said, “can possibly understand how a sensitive woman shrinks from asking for money. If I can prevent it, my daughters 6hall never have to ask for iL If they do their duty aa wives and mothers they have a right to their share of the joint income within reasonable limits; for certainly no money could buy the services they render.”

The "Obelisk” Hats.

“The “Obelisk” is the very lates ‘agony” in round hats. This new shape “done” in marble o granite would serve Amerioans ver well in the place of an obelisk, upoi which to inscribe a long poem setting forth the vanity of all earthly things especially of modern hats, provided we had not already “imported” a genuine article which has been set up with appropriate oeremonies. As it is, the “obelisk” hat is a creation fearful and wonderful to look upon. Its like was never before seen in these United States. A head covering somewhat similar to it may be found in old picture books, showing a Mother G ose flying through the air upon a broomstick—“ Gone to sweep the cobwebs out of the sky,” as the rhyme runs. Bat that the time should have arrived when this tall peaked sugar-loaf hat should adorn the heads of our sooiety belle, seems incredible. Its length from the tip of the peaked crown to the headband measures about fourteen inches and the broad brim surrounding it is five inches wide. A lady wearing one alighted from her carriage in front oi a leading business house in this city lately and became an object of special attraction. The dress worn by the lady Was in elegant Style, but the haL.' Shades of Macbeth and the witches thereof ! It drew such a crowd that it was with difficulty that the lady m* tered the store, and with greater diffi culty that she made her purchases.

Asthetioism in Business.

A. London firm that deals in neck ties combines as haUclsqa and business in a* remarkable manner. To every purchaser of a half guinea box of neckties they present a pretty little water-

coior sxetcD tastefully framed. They engage, it appears, a number of skilful artists of respectable, though of course not eminent, rank in their profession U> execute for them a large number of and What not The frames ttuy contract for as wholesale prices, and jggj they make the scheme ptwftransaction to the artists employed, for the latter have, it is stated, six or eight of the sketches upon the easel at the same time, wording them all _up together with 'tho greatest economy of time and labor.

Individuality of the Horse.

One thing curious and interesting about the horse is its individuality.— This is a characteristic common to all animals, undoubtedly to a greater or less degree, but surpassingly so, we think, in the crise of the horse. How this characteristic varies in horses is well known by any one who has ever intelligently drawn a rein over a good roadster. The individuality of horses varies as much as that of men. Every one has a different mental as well as physical make-up. Some horses seem to possess brains, to have some sense, are quick to understand and obey the least sign, motion or word of their master; others are not inaptly termed flunk-heads,” always awkward, lumbering about, difficult to teach, and never “make anything,” in a horseological sense. It may be true that these traits in a horse are sometimes due to the habits of his driver or owner, and that the horse itself may not be so much to blame for his ignorance, but however much he may be excused on this score, there is a surprising difference in these mental qualities of horses. Some men drive and ÜBo horses for years and yet never realize that they know anything, .or that there is any more difference between them tlum there is between so many barrels or saw-logs. Other men who handle horses a great deal, who buy and sell frequently, and wl»o study much their different characteristics, will tell you.how wonderful horses are, how much more they know than some men, how much each one has to be driven and handled differently, and how much they will sometimes teach, even their drivers I Between a nervous, sensitive, intelligent horse, and his considerate owner, how large a union of fellowship ana sympathy exists. In the stable, on the road, if overtaken by an accident, the cool, sensible man is sure to have a quick sympathy from his faithful horse, lie trusts his master, as his master trusts him. If the master is quiet, the horse will be eqally so, Knowing everything is sate; if the master blusters, or becomes anxious or exhibits fear, the horse knows it at once, and becomes restive likewise.— Ob, t4at men only knew that horses know much more thau they givo them credit for, and that they would use them more humanely, as they should, than they now do. Horses are not brutes, they are noble, intelligent, sensible creatures, the most useful animal servant which, Divine Goodness has given to man.

Boiler Explosions and their causes.

Mr. Fletcher, the chief engineer of tho Manchester, (England) Steam Users’ Association for the prevention of steam boiler explosions, has issued a most excellent and practical report upon this subject, and we find that during the year 1879 there was no fewer than 25 serious boiler explosions, causing the deaths of 40 persons, and injuries to 52 others. Of the above total, 9 explosions seem to have been due to defective condition; 5 to excessive pressure; 4to malcoustruction, coupled with defective condition; 3 to inalconstruction,alone; 2 to overheating through shortness of water; and V to caulking under steam pressure. Besides the above there were 22 minor explosions, killing 15 and injuring 36 persons, included iu the number being 12 kitchen and circulating boiler explosions —most of which Mr. Fletcher believes might have been prevented by the use of a small reliable safety-valve. The active causes of these lamentable occurrences—they can scarcely be termed accidents—seem to be 3 in number, namely, (1) faulty construction; (2) absence oil regular inspection, ana (3) carelessness in usage. Ou the first head there should be no room for doubt or mistakes in the present state of our mechanical skill aud knowledge. The second requirement should be, by legal enactment, made compulsory. The third want is one which no legislature caii meet, but it is worthy of notice, that of tho 25 principal explosions last year only 2 were traced to over-heating through shortness of water, so that this cause may be considered tho least important of the trio, apart from which it is obvious that considerations of personal safety will always teud.to keep this risk within due limits. Mr- Fletcher remarks, “the causes of boiler explosions are really very simple,” and wo cordially unite with him* in enjoining upon'all users of steam power the necessity of having their boilers periodically respected, os being tho means of all others of preventing tho appalling occurrences which every now and then shock the community:

Qhrik'lotto is-the only town in North Carolina where physicians have to pay for license to practice their profession. - The peach orchard of John H. Parnell, in Troup.oouuty, Ga., is the largest in the world. It covers 250 acres of laud.

Cocks and Hens.

Son of th« Soil. “And the cock crew* Who does not remember these memorable words' We might from this circumstance poetically Sh Peter’s ac-’ cnsiMangeL Christ Mmsdf noticed UMpßautfftfl bird, with tion. Yet some men are so dignified that they despise this brave ana generous bird, ana every one who fancies or admires him. In spite of this adverse circumstance, wo admire and breed chickens. We admire them because we have learned to judge and appreciate fine fowls; and we breed them because we know they are profitable. Our experience has taught us the truth of the statements of responsible breeders. We did not first properly credit these statements; but thought that nothing more was necessary than to make judicious selections from any fowls easily and cheaply obtained. The result of this opinion was a large, healthy, clean fowl: eight pound cocks and six pound hens. They were of course, mongrels. The only certain characteristics common to them, were determined setting.and alternate day laying. My hens would lay .thirteen eggs in twenty-six days, each, while laying ; and ip that time each hen could eat twenty-five cents worth of corn. But they did not average more than forty eggs apiece for the whole year; while their crops had to be filled three hundred and sixty-five times. Now, supposing the garden to have escaped their ravages,and regarding our attention to them as an amusement,our selected mongrels were not profitable. So we abandoned our first opinion, and consented to be taught. We now find our poultry profitable. Referring our readers to the teeogognized authorities on 1 the recognized varieties, we will make a sow statements and suggestions for both amateur and professional breeders. We give four rules for the guidance of amateurs: 1. Keep only one variety in the same yard. 2. The largest are not necessarily tho best 3. Sitters cannot be expected to lay as many eggs as non-sitters; for the ’.alter have nothing else to do. 4. There is great advantage in uniformity of color'; as the hens become step-mothers more readily, and wi.l not so quickly detect and fight another hen’s chickens. Let us now teach the amateur how to judge a fine fowl: The body must be long; the breast broad; tiie legs *hort and smooth, feeling like a kid. glove, with a clean appearance; the neck short; the eyes bright; and the feathers true to variety, and glossy, which is the appearance of natural health. If your gardens are valuable and. your i'cuce low, by all means keep the Asiatics; as they can uot fiy like the lighter birds. Fowls entirely free from Asiatic blood lay best. In these remarks wc make no claim to originality. We write to promote tho poultry interest; and chiefly for 'he benefit of the ladies, to whom we would say much concerning the management of their fowls, if we knew .hey would heed our instruction. The age of fowls claims notice. Too often do breeders kill a fine, sturdy cock, to give the range to a scarcely matured one. Breeding from very young birds cannot prove successful. We have a hen dqing/wb duty, that is more than eleven years old. Some suggestions will now bo made to the “professionals:” Gentlemen! You breed fine fowls to sell to “fanciers’’ in ,the city and farmers in the country. The variety you recommend most is the Plymouth Rock —a systematically bred mongrel. We, of the farm, require birds to lay and set well, aud to grow rapidly and be of fine size. Hence your recommendation of the Plymouth®. Manifestly, the strict non sitters are not tho birds for us; and we do not all of as fancy the Asiatics.

Veterinary Surgery.

It is the usual custom to kill a horse that has had the misfortune to break a leg, and as accidents of this kind are quite common, many noble beasts are lost every year on account of the want of sufficient skill in veterinary surgeons to treat a fractured bone. An. experiment is now being tried at Harrisburg, which, if successful, may save the lives of mahy horses. A fine. horse slipped on the cobble-stone pavement and brpke its leg. Instead of beipg killed it was taken to a livery stable and put in charge of an experienced groom, who put a piece of strong canvas around the horse’s body, and by means of ropes and pulleys fastened to the joists above drew him up so as to bring the lame leg entirely off the ground. By'slightly Hexing his three sound legs the patient can throw his whole weight on the swing, and he does this when he sleeps. At other times he generally lightly rests his legs on the ground, part of his weight oeing sustained by the canvas. The fracture was adjusted and a thick casing of plaster of Paris put around the leg. The patient has been in the swing three wpeks, and it is {imposed to keep him there six weeks onger. Ho lias improved in condition since the treatment began, and is in excellent health. If no unforeseen accident occurs the cjure ta expected to be perfect. ' , A small soul 'depends on a roaring flame and a great cloud of smoke to let the world know it is on fire. The suti has a better way; for without noise or fume it blesses all with heat and light 1 .