Rensselaer Republican, Volume 16, Number 44, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 10 July 1884 — Page 2

MY POCKET-BOOK. BVt s’noe I was a braw nir la-t Ye“ve been tiie nu at irl nd i‘vc bad. My pocket- oek! And though jour merits now I 'race, You've led me many ■. eor i y race, By bill! g last n hole or nook, My pocket-look. When yon, for hours, I failed to find, ' You tn de me doubtful of my kiud, Mt ptxske - oofc! I*ve looked in many an honest eye, ▲ trace of coneclous gnU r . to.s -y. That 1, with truth might say, -Yon took MypxHrt-book!" Through you I’ve paid some honest debts, And yet 1 have some vain r grets. My pock t book ! For though I’ve given of your store, I own I might haven given more When prompted by a suffering look, Mypocke -book! While von stand by me I shall know No lack of friendship as I go, My yock'i-ioik! Unless your wails should empty be. Then summer friends would quicklj’ nee, And 1 subsist by hook or crook, My podte -book ! But I shall try to k-ep you full. By manv a tug. a- d many a pull. My pock et book By hone-t work and ator grand, For labor <r wns the teaming land, For poverty I s-.arce cou : d brock, My rocket-Look I —Afra. AL A. Kidder in DemoreVs Monthly.

A DAKOTA BLIZZARD.

Carrie Welton locked the schoolhouse door and walked down the dusty highway towards the farm-house she called home. She was very tired, and the long mile before her seemed interminable. Just then there was the sound of .wheels, and a span of bay horses were reined up close beside her. “Would you like to ride home, Miss Welton ?” some one said. Carrie looked up in the sun-browned face of Alexander Hall. There was no smile in his grave eyes, and the shadow of a frown was visible on his brow. “I thank von—no. I would prefer to walk.” Carrie responded. “Very well. Get up, ponies.” And the span and buggy whirled past her, leaving a cloud of settle upon her linen dress and straw hat ae she trudged along the highway, looking very flushed and angry. “The idea of his thinking I would make up with him in this way!” she said, mentally. “No, indeed! He will have to apologize before I ride with him again. I could see that he was just as set and stubborn as ever. No doubt he intended to give me another lecture, and thought this would be a splendid opportunity. He will learn that I have some dignity, I can tell him.” Carrie was so tired she ate but little supper that night, and retired early to her room to think over matters in solitude, away from the clattering tongue of good Mrs. Smith, who felt it her solemn duty to “entertain” her boarders —said entertainment consisting in recitations of the neighborhood affairs, past and present. When Carrie felt well and happy, and was not yorn out with her day’s work, she bore it very heroically. But to-night she was too nervous to endure the ordeal Mrs. Smith’s voice grated upon her nerves like the filing of a saw, and she flew to her room for protection, pleading a headache. In tfuth it was a heartache which troubled the girl. During the last six months she and Alexander Hall had been very good friends—such very good friend that they were, in fact, lovers, and needed only a few words to belong to each other for all time; words which would have been spoken ere this but for an unexpected event Smithtown boasted of two stores which, of course, were visited at certain periods by drummers. One of them, a handsome, dashing fellow, had recently made it in his way to pass Sunday in Smithtown. Every one in the little town knew why he had remained. He had chanced to see Carrie Welton one evening at the store making some purchases, and he was not at all slow to express his admiration for the teacher. He begged the favor of an introduction, which, owing to the somewhat informal manner of Smithtown society, it was not difficult to obtain, since everybody knew everybody there, and the handsome agent seemed a very nice fellow indeed, one whom all the young ladies would be glad to consider an acquaintance. Mr. Parker attended church the following Sabbath, and walked home with Carrie, much to the indignation of Alexander Hall. He took it upon himself to say some very cutting things to Carrie when they next met, to rebuke her for her readiness to receive attention from a clothier’s “dummy,” as he called Mr. Parker, and they had parted in anger. Their next meeting was that on the dusty road. Carrie congratulated herself upon her behavior, and then cried herself to sleep. But she was sure he would come again in a day or two, and then she;would be a little mtnegracious, sad take him back into her favor, for really Smithtown was very dull without him. But Alex, did not come to her the next day or the next, and a whole week went by without her seeing him. Then a strange report came to her ears. “Alex. Hall has an auction to-day,” one of her pupils remarked. “An auction. What for?” Carrie asked wonderingly. “Why, he's going away—going to take up a claim in Dakota. He’s sold his farm to Mr. Roberts, and to-day he sells off his horses and machinery.” “Does his mother go with’him?” asked Carrie, with a dull- pain at her “No; she is going to lowa to her daughter. Of course the farm belongs to her and the money will be hers; and she says she does not want to go into a new country. But Alex, is wild to go, and pa says he will be a rich man in a few years—that the land out there will sell for a big price." It was not a very orderly school the remainder of that day. Carrie seemed to be in a sort of nightpare. Could it be true ? And was he going away without coming to say good-bye to her, and this shadow between them ? But he did, all the same. Three horrible days and nights went by,and then

she saw him pass the school-house on the afternoon train which wpujd bear him from Smithtown. It was the noon hour, and she and several of the larger girls were sitting under a spreading oak, watching the smaller children play “ring around the roses.” .. 1 As he passed by he swung his hat to the children, with whom he was a favorite, and said: “Good-bye, girls! good-bye. boys! lam off for Dakota!” And then he was gone. How the dreadful weeks wore by Carrie could never telL But they did go by and the end of th? term came at last—in August. It was three months since Alex. Hall had gone. /Mr. Parker had visited Smithtown once during that time, and' had been astonished to have Miss Welton turn her back, upon him very deliberately when she met him at the village store. He was not accustomed to this kind of treatment from pretty girls in small villages; for Mr. Parker was one of the young men who had “a sweetheart in every port," and he fully resolved to make Miss Welton his Smithtown sweetheart; and now all his plans were upset by the very disdainful manner of that young lady herself. He sought an explanation by post, but his billet-doux was never noticed, and he was obliged to look elsewhere for a sweetheart to make his number good. The very day that school closed Carrie received a letter from her uncle Tom.

Uncle Tom was her only near relative, a roving man of Bohemian tastes, a sort of jack-at-all-trades, and good at none. But now he seemed to have found a new location where he would be liable to remain some time. “Pm in Dakota,” he wrote, “and Tve taken up the nicest claim you ever saw —one hundred and sixty acres. I have built me a little house, and I keep old bachelor’s hall. Igo where I please in the day. I’m only five miles from the railroad, and people are coming in and villages going up fast. I have plenty to do and see—odd jobs of carpenter work, to keep me in living expenses, and then I go back to my shanty and sleep nights. You know I was a soldier two years in the late war. Well, that counts just so much time on my land, and when I once own it, I can sell it or keep it for a homestead, as I choose. Lots of women are taking up claims. Now, I’ve been thinking of you, Carrie. There is a splendid quarter section a little way from mine. It will be picked up soon, if you want to make money, and have the grit to stand roughing it, you’d better be the girl to pick it up. You must have saved up something, teaching so steadily as you have for five years. It would cost you but little to come out here on a landholder’s ticket, but a little more to put up a small cabin, and but little more to keep you for six months, and then you just about own your land—at least you’ve only got to make periodical visits to it after that And you can find enough to do in the meantime. And you can wear your old clothes and dress as well as the best of them. And in a few years you'll be a rich womanCarrie, for this land will sell at a good price, it is so admirably located and fertile.” Carrie had no sooner finished the letter than her decision was formed to go. She hated Smithtown and everybody in it, and the further she could got away, the better,' She wrote her uncle that she would

arrive within the next three weeks, and she was with him in less than two. “I have the lumber ready for your little house,” he said, as he drove. her from the station to his “bachelor” hall. Soinehoyv she was lighter-hearted and happy since she knew she was in Dakota than she had been for months. She knew why—she did not cheat herself. It was because she was in the same country with Alex. Hall. It gave her a sense of companionship—this very knowledge. “In the morning I will take you out and show you your claim,” continued her uncle. And I’ve chosen this site for your cabin. It’ll be about a mile from mine—just a nice walk for you when you get lonesome.” The next morning was bright and sunny, but of course windy. “What a wind! Does it blow often like this?” asked Carrie,'as they rolled along over the smooth prairie. “Wind? Why, this is a calm day, my dear,” said Uncle Tom. “Just wait till you have seen a Dakota blizzard, my dear, before you talk of wind.” By-and-by they came to Carrie’s “quarter section,” as Unde Tom called it. Carrie could not see where it “began” or “left off," she told Unde Tom. It was like all the rest of the country—just land, and nothing more; prairie melting into prairie as far as the eye could reah. “Well, but I know where the invisible lines lie,” responded Uncle Tom. “Now every under on thatknoll your cabin will be built after we have attended to the legal formalities, and that is the extreme southern limit of your claim. A little south of it there is a slight ravine, and then another knolL The ravine is the dividing line between two quarter sections.” “Who owns the other one?"asked Carrie, anxious to know who might be her neighbor. “I don’t believe it is taken, though I heard something about it the other day. Some fellow was looking it up I believe. There are some dozen of them around almost daily. That was the reason that I was in a hurry for you to come."

A few days later, after the legal formalities had been attended to, Uncle Tom drowe Carrie out again to look at the cabin that was in process of erection on the opposite knoll. “Why, that claim has Been taken, too! I wonder who will be my neighbor?” queried Carrie. “I can find out at the land office,” Uncle Tom replied. He did eo and gave Carrie the desired information the next day. “It’s some fellow named Hall —AHall,” he said, j “He’s just sold out his interest in some claim about fifty miles north of here, and now he’s taken up this, which he intends to keep as a

homestead. They often sell out at a nice figure after staying a few months on a claim. SomeT’eflow pays them a good sum for their chanoe, and they go elsewhere.” ’ “A. Hall.” , r

Carrie felt a sudden leaping of hey heart and a curious excitement. But it was not likely that this was Alex. It would be too wonderful to be true. Yet it was Alex! She saw him at the postoffice the next day, and passed him without so much as a glance. Alex, looked as if he had seen an apparition and took a step forward and then stood s£Ul, chilled by her cold glance in which there was no recognition. After all, it was his own fault. He knew he had conducted himself like a brute and an idiot when he left Smithtown. He had realized it a dozen times since—realized it constantly, in fact—with a dull heartache whenever he was alone with himself. But he had never been quite brave or manly enough to write and ask her pardon, believing ere this Mr. Parker had the first place in her heart And now she was here in Dakota. How strange!

A greater surprise awaited him in the knowledge that Carrie’s claim and cabin were’just own. The two cabins were completed and furnished, and the occupanta jnoved in. Alex.’s was the more pretentious of the two in the exterior, and Carrie’s the mere sumptuous within. For she had brought her books and had a few plants, and with those indescribable feminine knick-knacks, which some women seem to create by a turn of their hand, her rooms were very cosy. Yet she was not very much at home. She passed a great deal of her time at Uncle Tom’s, setting his “bachelor hall” to rights, and mending and darning sot him. But she went to her desolate little house to sleep. She was not timid—she knew that no harm could come to her there. ' She knew that the law of kindness prevailed in this new country, which was better tlmn any law, “to keep the peace,” to bind the people together. She occasionally saw Alex., but they never recognized each other; yet there was to her a sense of protection in the knowledge that he was so near. “Got acquainted with your neighbor yet, Carrie?” asked Uncle Tom, after a month had passed. “No, and I don’t want his acquaintance,” answered Carrie, rather icily. “Nice fellow, I think,” said Uncle Tom. “He’s got business in him, and will make a successful man. He’s taken up a tree claim now. I was talking with him to-day.” “What’s a tree claim?” asked Carrie. “Oh, you plant so many trees and leave ’em growing at a certain stated time—say two years—and the land is yours. He said you might do that, and be worth just so much more. It would cost you but a trifle to have the trees planted.”

“He is taking an interest in my affairs, is he? Well, nobody thanks him for his advice," snapped Carrie, in a voice very unusual to her. Uncle Tom wondered what had come over the girl, usually so sweet tempered. The v eeks went by, and November came. Carrie was on the third month of her six. She had made a great many friends, and had read, and sewed, and made her uncle’s cabin and her own very tasty, and comfortable, and neat with her handiwork. She felt that her time had been well employed and the days had not been long. And yet she and Alex, had never exchanged a word. No one—not even Uncle Tom—knew that they had ever been friends. One November day Carrie was “tacking a comforter,” which she had pieced together out of bits of calico. The wind had been blowing with increasing fury from the northwest all day. Toward evening it became terrible, and a sleety snow began to fall. It seemed to shakSthe little cabin to its foundation. Carrie felt her heart sink with fear. It was something beyond any of her former experience, and she remembered what Uncle Tom had said about a “blizzard,” “This must surely be a blizzard,” she thought Higher and higher rose the wind, louder and louder it shrieked. The walls of the house shook, trembled, and then— tr

Carrie was conscious of being lifted up into the air by some unseen force, and whirled through the-darkness and then falling. After that she knew nothing for a brief space. She was only stunned, and when she opened her eyes she found herself still in her own room, but with everything still in a confused mass of ruin about hex, and Alex. Hall kneeling by her, rubbing her hands and calling her name. " “It was not necessary 40-eome over,” she said. “Pm not hurt in the least.” Alex, broke into a laugh. . “Come over ?” he repeated, “Its you who have come over, Miss Carrie; you made the first call in spite of yourself. And very glad I am to see you, even in this unceremOnius manner. “What do you mean ?” she asked. “I mean, that you came, house and all, and planted yourself right in my dooryard with a thunderous clatter. I thought the whole village had arrived. It is a wonder your neck was not broken, my dear. Are you sure you are not injured?” he asked with a tender concern.

“Do you reaHy mean, Alex., that my house blew over into your yard?” “I mean just that, Carrie. I always thought your cabin rather shaky—mine is twice as substantial—and now you will be obliged to accept my hospitality for the present Fortunately, I have a man and wife stopping with me this week—friends of mine from Northern Dakota, whom I am entertaining until they get a house built They have slept soundly through aM this blizzard. They are used to the country. But I will wake the good woman now, and she will'attend to you." The next day Alex, said to het; . “Since you unbent sufficiently to call on me in sueh an uncermonious manner,

Carrie, before I beg you portion for my old disagreeable meanness, can’t you stoop still further and marry me, now that I do most humbly crave your forgiveness? I have always loved you.” Of course Carrie could not refuse.

“Pon my soul!" said Uncle Tom, when he had heard the whole story. “It’s better than a magazine yarn! You’re the heroine, Carrie, and Alex, is the hero, and I am the sort of good angel, you know, that fixes up things.” “You are the blizzard,” laughed Carrib.

Chinese Science.

From ancient times the Chinese have taken note of natural phenomena. Their record of Solar Eclipses is perhaps the most ancient and accurate in the world. They have more or less elaborate works on astronomy, mathematics, botany, zoology, mineralogy, physiology, and many other sciences. Yet there is scarcely any true science in them. Classification, even in regard to plants .and animals, there is none. Mineralogy is mainly a description of curious stones. Nor is there any progress, for the ancient works are generally the best, and as a consequence the Chinese of to-day are as their fathers were thousands of years ago. The superstitions respecting natural phenomena, which are as living, active truths to-day for all classes in China, remind us rather of man in his state of barbarism than of the ancient culture and civilization of the Middle Kingdom. The sun and moon are to the Chinese as they were to primitive man, living things, gods to be worshipped, The stars in their courses the powerful influence, is they do not absolutely determine, Will human events. In them the wise may rea i as in a book the destiny of man and |he fate of empires. Their combinations make lucky and unlucky days, and we shall do well to note carefully their signs and silent warnings. Comets are the precursors of famine, pestilence and war—prognosticators of the wreck of the empires and the faH of kings. Eclipses are the periodic efforts of the dragon fiend to destroy the lights of heaven, and every notice of an approaching eclipse sent by the imperial astronomer to the provinces is accompanied by a Government order to employ the usual method of gong-beat-ing, and so forth, in order to rescue the threatened luminary. Again, thunder is the roar of the anger of heaven, and to be smitten by a thunderbolt is to be marked as a thing accursed. Wind isborn|in the heart of great mountains, whence it issues at the command of the wind dog. Most districts have their wind mountains. That at LungShan, in the northern province of China, is the most remarkable. It has a cave at each of its four sides. The Spring wind issues from the cave on the eastern side, the Summer wind from the southern, and for the others. Wind eddies or whirl-winds are raised by the hedgehog in his rapid passage from one place to another, the dust serving to screen him from the vulgar gaze. Rain is produced by the dragon god, who carries up vast quantities of water from the lakes and rivers in his capacious jaws, and pour it down in showers over the earth. Every mountain has its spirit of genius, every valley its nymph, every spring its naiad. Hence mountains and rivers, old trees and curious rocks, become objects of worship.— Na ture.

An Estimate of Seward.

Seward was a favorite of fortune. He was fortunate in his gifts, his surroundings, his successes, his career, his temperament, his friendships. He was peculiarly blessed in the last respect by having as a life-long friend Thurlow Weed, one of the most astute and powerful politicians we have ever produced, who relieved Seward of many of the burdens of politics, and left him free to work out the principles they both had at heart. It was a rare chance which gave Seward such a friend, and he made the most of it, as he did all of his opportunities, after the fashion of successful people. Very few men have made themselves count for more than Seward in proportion to their ability. This arose from his wonderful capacity for dealing with his fellow men, from his robust common sense, and from his cautious firmness. The qualities, however, which made him great were his wisdom and his courage, and on these his place in history will rest Apart from the military leaders, the great figure of the civil war is that of Abraham Lincoln. He will always stand preeminent, not only by his wisdom and moral greatness, but by his hold upon *the popular affection. He appealed to the hearts of the people both in his life and in his death. They loved him. becausein him they saw a true and |>rofoundly sympathetic representative of all that was best in themselves, and because he personified as no other man did the infinite pathos of the war. But among the statesmen who followed and sustained Seward will occupy the foremost place. The memory of the adroit politician may perish, but that of th e broad-minded statesman will endure. The subtleties of his arguments will fade, but his presentation of great principles will ever grow brighter. The champion of anti-Masonry will be forgotten, but the man who first ap'pealed to the “high-law," and who first described the “irrepressible conflict,” will always be honored and remembered. We may road the epitah which Seward chose for himself in the simple inscription on the , tomb at Auburn. “He was faithful,” and with this prai e he was content. But history will also record and give high place to the calm wi dom. the loyal courage and the undaunted spirit with which he defended the cause of freedom in a slave-holding Senate, and stood by the side of Lincoln through all the trials and perils of four years of civil war —Henry Cabot Lodge in The Atlantic.

Good sense is-worth far more in a woman’than personal beauty, and there never<waa a man of any force yet, whose*misfortune it was to fmarry a stupidor shallow woman, who did not esteem it the crowning blunder and calamity of his life.— Pitts burg h Chron-icle-Telegraph. t The children should not hear you scold or find fault with their .mother. If you don’t treat her with respect neither wiH they. ’

THE FAMILY DOCTOR.

A pretty way to vary the baskets made of seine twine is to crochet them in strips like the tidies, so that ribbon can be run in. If you wish the basket to be particularly ornamental, and to put it in the guest chamber, take three round poles, paint them or gild them, tie them together at the top with ribbons and hang the basket within, after the fashion of a Gypsy kettle.

A man was suffering from gangrene of the lungs, with cough, difficulty of breathing, and fever. The patient was put upon the mixture containing carbolic acid, but as no improvement followed. tincture of eucalyptus was substituted for the acid. In two days after the use of the last prescription the odor of the breath was much less disgusting. and in less than two weeks the man was discharged cured. The beneficent work was attributed to the action of the eucalyptus by Dr. Bonamy. The Chicago Druggist recommends the following remedy for severe scalds and burns: Cover the injured parts freely with soft soap. If the burn be severe, apply soon after linseed oil, with a plentiful dressing of flour. This cakes, and fresh oil and flour can be added. When this covering falls off a new skin will have formed, and no scar left. The same journal say carron oil is one of the best remedies where the skin is unbroken, care of course being taken to exclude the air from the injured parts. Paste in Your Note Book.—There is no remedy of such general application, and none so easily attainable, as water; and yet nine persons out of ten will pass by it in an emergency to seek for something of far less efficiency. There are but few cases of illness where water should not occupy the Richest place as a remedial agent. A strip of flannel or a napkin folded lengthwise, and dipped in hot water and wrung out, and then applied around the neck of a child that has croup, Will usually bring relief in ten minutes. A towel folded several times, and dipped in hot water and quickly wrung out and applied over the seat of the pain in toothache or neuralgia, will generally afford prompt relief. This treatment in colic works almost like magic. I have seen cases that have resisted other treatment for hours yield to this in ten minutes. There is nothing that will so promptly cut short a congestion of the lungs, sore throat, or rheumatism, as hot water when applied promptly and thoroughly, Pieces of cotton bat ting dipped in hot water and kept applied to old sores or new, cuts, bruises, or sprains, is the treatment now generally adopted in hospitals. I have seen a sprained ankle cured in an hour by showering it with hot water, poured from a height of three feet.

Tepid, water acts promptly as an emetic; and hot water taken freely half an hour before bed time is the best cathartic in cases of constipation, while it has a most soothing effect on the stem ach and bowels. This treatment con tinned for a few months, with proper attention to the diet, will cure any curable case of dyspepsia. Headache almost always yields to the simultaneous application of hot water to the feet and the back of the neck. It is an excellent plan to record facts like these in a note book, which should be always at hand when wanted. In the anxiety caused by accident, or sudden illness in the family, one becomes confused and is not apt to remember quickly what should be done; hence there may be prolonged and unnecessary suffering before proper remedies are applied.

An Old Lady’s Pleasures.

She had many mild pleasures. She had a pretty house full of things which formed a graceful entourage suitable, as she felt, for such a woman as she was, and in which she took pleasure in their own beauty—soft chairs and couches, a fire-place ani light which were the perfection of tempered warmth and illumination. She had a carriage, very comfortable and easy, in which, when the weather was suitable, she went out, and a pretty garden and lawns, in which, when she preferred staying at home, she could have her little walk or sit out under the trees. She had books in plenty and all the

newspapers and everything that was needful to keep her within the reflection of the busy life which she no longer cared to encounter in her own person. The post rarely brought her painful letters; for all those impassioned interests which bring pain had died out, and the sorrows of others, when they were communicated to her gave her a luxurious sense of sympathy, yet exemption. She was sorry for them; but such catastrophes could touch her no more; and often she had pleapant letters, which afforded her something to talk and think about, and discuss as if it concerned her—business which could not hurt her if itfatted, which wtrtdd

please her if it succeeded. Her letters, her papers, her books, each coming at its appointed hour, were all instruments of pleasure. She came down stairs at a certain hour, which she kept to as if it had been of the utmost importance, although it was es no importance at all; she took just so much good wine, so many cups of tea. Her repasts were as regular as clockwork—never too late, never too early. Her whole life went on velvet, rolling smoothly along, without jar of interruption, blameless, pleasant, kind. People talked of her old age as a model of old age, with no bitterness or sourness in it. And, indeed, why should she have been sour or bitter ? It suited her far better to be kind.— Old Lady Mary.

Couldn’t See the Difference.

“Mother, is it right for a person to try to make' a person believe something what he dosen’t believe ?" “No, son." “Well, then, why do you try to make me believe-it's right when any one rings the door bell to go and peep out the window and see who it is, and if it’s sich.and sich a one to tell her you’re not in?” “Well,that’s a different thing." “Oh, yes. you always say ’that’s a different thing’ when you get beat”— Kentucky State Journal.

Love Among the Cacti.

The Pitalla is the only variety of cactus, so far as we know, that produces fruit that can be eaten without the man who does the eating being sorry for it afterwards. The fruit of the Pitalla is quite small, not much larger than a man’s thumb, and it has almost the identical flavor of strawberries. The berries have to be eaten with great care, as the small thorns are apt to stick in the lips. There is a very romantic story connected with the Pitalla, a wild, weird legend, in which undying love, Pitallas, and a cow-boy are mixed up. Some years, ago, the mother of a fair, wild prairie flower, happened to look out in the direction of the cowpen, which nestled cosily up to a Pitalla bush, when her motherly eyes perceived the wild prairie flower and a freckled-faced cowboy, the son of a neighbor, flattening their noses on each other’s faces with a pressure of 3,000 pounds to the square inch. As the families of “the lovyers” were not on borrowing terms, the mother of the prairie flower lifted up her voice, as Jacob did, but instead of weeping, - as Jacob did, she warbled forth:

“Mirandy Jane! O, Mirandy Jane! O, you Mirandy Jane! Come right up here to the house. O, Jane! you, Jane! O, you Mirandy Jane! come right up here, I say.” She came. He, the coy and gentle cow-boy, slid out of sight behind a Pitalla bush. “Didn’t I tell you to have nothin’ ter do v ith that low-down, brandy-legged, slab-sided, maverick-stealing Jake Mullins, and I seed yer a-kissin’ him and akissin’ him.” “Indeed, mother, you err. You do Mr. Mullins a gross injustice. He is too much of a gentleman, too noble, too pure.” “Shet your gab, or I’ll wear you to a frazzle agin a tree, Mirandy Jane. Did’nt I see Jake with th big catfish mouth of his smack up agin yourn, say ?” “No, mothmk he did not smack'me. You do Jake injustice. He is too noble, too pure—” “ What did he have that big mouth of his up agin your fool mouth for, if he wasn’t a-kissen you." “He was extracting the spines-of the Pitalla from my lips. I had been partaking of some pitallas, and I bad got some of the spines in my lips, so I requested Mr. Mullins to extract them, and he had to do it with his teeth. You see, mother, how unfounded your suspicions were.” The door of the little cabin was suddenly closed, and the stillness of the forest was pierced by a succession of shrieks, annotated with loud thwacks at regular intervals, justifying the conclusion that the old lady had got the prairie flower across a trunk, and was taking advantage of the situation with a board.— Texas Siftings.

The Ill-Doings of Flies.

Dr. B. Grassi, of Rovellasca, reports, in a recent number of the Gazette de gli Ospitali, some investigations he has been making on the above subject. He has convinced himself that the common house fly is a dreadful enemy of the human race, as f)f all Hiring things in general. Wherever any infection is present, for instance the sputa of phthisical patients or dejecta from the intestinal tract, swarms of flies are to be seen, which soil themselves with the offensive material, and then crawl about over our food. The writer placed a plate containing a large mass of the ova of a human parasite (Trichocephalus) upon a table in his laboratory, which was situated at a distance of about thirty feet from the kitchen.— Sheets of white paper were placed in various parts of the kitchen, and in the course of a few hours the dejecta of flies were observable on the paper. Upon examination of these with the microscope, they were found to contain some of the ova of the parasite. Dr. Grassi then killed some of the flies and found an enormous mass feces containing more of the ova of the ova. On another occasion he minced some segments of tape-worm that had been preserved in spirit, and put them into water, so that the mass of ova were suspended in it. In half hour he succeeded in finding the ova of the parasite in the abdominal contents of the flies, and also in the spontaneously deposited dejecta. In like manner it could be proved that flies .that had alighted on irqldy cream harbored the spores of oidium. lactis. It is useless to comfort one’s self with the thought that these germs die in the intestines of the flies. Even if 'the intestinal juice does not act upon them, and it is not proven that it does in the case of bacteria, some would almost certainly escape destruction. In any case, moreover, the legs and proboscis would still serve as carriers to the infection. He proposes that an attempt shall be made to introduce the same diseases among them in the spring-time that already causes such devastation in the autumn. — Health and Home.

Some Left Over.

Two or three years ago one of the appropriations in the River and Harbor bill was the sum of $15,000 for improving Goose Creek, Habana. The Government Engineer for that district succeeded in finding said creek the other day, after a search of twenty-six months. He found a rivulet three miles long, six inches deep, and throe feet wide, and on the banks he found a solitary settler. , >s , f “The government has appropriated? $15,000 to improve this creek,” observed the engineer. ■ “I know, it, and I’ve been waiting,” was the reply. “I don’t see what improvement is needed or can be made.” “Reckon not, being as you are a stranger, but thal ’ere cash was appropriated to shovel down this "ere bank so that my old mule could git down to the water without breaking hi» infernal back!” J, The improvement of Goose Creek was made at the cost of $3, and the engineer will either have to turn the current up stream or send the rest of the appropriation back to the treasury.— Exchange. • r. -ri t ■ 1 Matter in varied forms is the embodiment of the universe.