Rensselaer Republican, Volume 19, Number 29, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 24 March 1887 — Page 3

THE PLOWHANDTS SOSft,., Nigger rplghty happy w’en he layin’ by so'n—- • •„' Pat gun's a slantin'; Nigger mighty happy w’enrfae year <le dinner ho’n-- y ■ « Pat sun's a slantin' ; En he mo' happy still w’en do night draws on— Pat sun’s a ulantirf'; Dat sun’s a slantin' des es sho's you bo’n) , ; ’En it’s rise up, Primus I fetch an udil«r yell: U T Pat ole dan cow dos a shakln’ up 'erbay, L En de frogs cliunin’ up fo’ do jew done fell, ' Good-night. . Mr. Kildeel I wish you'niighty Well 1 '-rUr. Kildee 1 I wish you mighty well! I wish you mighty well I Do co'n’ll be roady 'ginst dumplin’ day— Pat sun’s a slantin'; But nigger gotter watch, en stick en stay— -rs Pat sun’B a slantin'; ■ - game os de bee-martin watcliin' un do jay— Pat sun's a slantin' ; Dat sun’s a slantin’ on a slippin’ away 1 Pen it’s rise up, Primus ! en gin it t’um strong! De cow’s gwine home mid dor ding-dan-dong: Sling in anudder tetch or de ole-time song I Good-night. Mr. Whipperwill; don’t stay long! —Mr. Whipperwill 1 don’t stay long 1 —Don’t Btay long! De shudders, deyer creepin’ tode’s do top er de hi 11Pat sun’s a slantin'. But night don’t ’stroy w’at de day done bull’; Pat sun’s a slantin’; 'Less de noddin’ er de -nigger give do ash-cake a chill— Dat sun’s a slantin’; Datsun's a slantin’ an’ slippin’ down still! Den sing it out, Primus ! dos holler and bawl! Enw’ilst we er Btrippin’ dose mules fer de stall Let de gals ketch de soun’ or de plantation call: O it’s good-night, ladies ! my love uuter ye all 1 —Ladies ! my love unter ye all! —My love untor ye all 1 —Joel Chandler Harris.

THE FATAL RING.

BY SARA B. ROSE.

We were staying in Rome, although we had a magnificent home in the United States upon a high hill which overlooked the sea. It was a charming place, with its great bunches of shrubbery and aged trees, but we were never allowed to stay there—papa kept us traveling from country to country, from city to city, in search of moldy pieces of furniture, antique vases, and bits of crumbling monuments of all ages and descriptions, until I used to tell Maudie that we never should again know the comforts of a home, or be allowed to remain in one place long enough to become acquainted and get married as • other girls did. of resignation. “Papa cares more to-day for the welfare of that Egyptian maiden over there than he does for ours, Eel.” I laughed a little nt this and glanced over at the still, straight form, wrapped in • coarse matting, and carefully boxed, which papa obliged us to keep in our own room for safety, regardless of any superstitious fears which might trouble us, or any fanciful dreams which might be inspired by the constant association with a defunct damsel of threo thousand years of age. It was a genuine Egyptian mummy, and papa expended more toil and care upon it than he ever did upon any living woman, besides dollars enough to have portioned off both his daughters. And to crown, all he Insisted upon our tolerating its unwelcome presence; we must have an eye upon it constantly, he • could not think of sending it home without going with it hirpself. It might be broken by careless expressmen, and its sacred dust be mingled with mere plebian soil, and, stronger reason than all, she might riieet with some admirer even more affectionate than our doting papa, and bo spirited away like the fair bride in the poem of young Locliinvar. But then we had long dwelt in close proximity to the cast-off bones of giants and mastodons, and relics taken from the graves of druids, and Cleopatra, as we had named her, proved to be a not intrusive companion after ail; so we never thought of her unless it was when we were talking over our grievances and wishing that we might at least have one admirer apiece and be like other girls of our own age. But we did not know—ah! how could we know?—that that girlish wish was but the preface to a fate which either Maudie <or myfeeif would have laid down our life to have kept from the other. Ah, why need it have been! How sad to ' know that if even the strongest affection of woman be fully returned, that some underlying sorrow must accompany it to mar the happiness which would otherwise be perfect. I do not think two sisters were ever dearer to each other than Maudie and myself. Maud and Mabel were our names; she was 18, I was 20. We were both brunettes, and looked so much alike that one was often mistaken for the other. My own eyes told m?T that Maudie was pretty and bewitching, and I was over pleased to be told that my sister resembled me greatly. It was the very day after our little conversation in our room.that papa came into our presence fidgeting about with excitement concerning, a purchase he had just made. . . , •• “1 have secured alh the old pictures and •the plate belonging to the old Lorazzi palace” he breathlessly. “The palace has been shut up for years, and I made the best of my opportunity and bought up everything of value as soon as it was opened.” “But bow did they come to open it? I supposed it was nothing but a ruin,” asked Maudie. “It has. just been purchased by a yoUng American gentleman, who thinks the pictures are worthless because they have been mutilated somewhat,Tmd that the plate is but pewter, and he may bo right, but it is old and the crest upon it would sell it in New York for ten times the price-I paid for it.” “He must be a rarity—this American who believes anything which belongs to him is not simon pure perfection in its way.” “He is a very agreeable gentleman my dears,” replied iny father, smiling slyly, "“and is coming this-evening to attend the theater with us, so that you will have a chance to judge for yourselves.” "Ob,, goodie,” 1 cried, laughing, “One, does get so tired of going about with only one’s father for an attendant.” ~ 1“ “I knew that hews would please-you, Bel.” returned papa. “If only he is young,” put in Maudie. “Papa’s youug gentlemen have a provoking wav of turning into middle-nged men who have just finished some piece of bric-a-brac. warranted to be a thousand years old, ” - -—v 4 “This American will turn out differently,” replied papa. ; - . “You are using the wrong word, papa. Mr. Arden, the Englishman who introduced ns to his family in Paris, called ns United Statcs ns. This must be a United States’n too.” . ♦ “You have not told U 3 his name,” said “True,true,” replied papa, despondingly. “A name would be of no use to the poor creature. Bel would manufacture a new one for him iu half an hour.” “I like to see names fitted to .their Wearer,” I replied,.lightly. “Or hear them,” concluded Maudie, precisely. “Papa, what is this United Stntes’n like?” “I conld not tell yon,” replied papa, desperately. “But lam sorry that I concluded to sacrifice him. His peace of mind Will be wrecked forever. ” Papa left us at this juncture, and we had just time to brighten up our toilets for the evening before dinner time.

Just at dusk the gentleman arrived with [ papa, and Mandie and I could not help but exchange Congratulatory glances, for Mr. Weber was certainly an elegant and fascinating companion. He was hardly what could be called a handsome man. His form was good, hia hair and mustache were certainly red, his eyebrows and eyelashes were undeniably white, yet his gentlemanly air and fine conversational powers would distinguish him in any society, and in that one evening in that little Roman theater he made himself so agreeable to Maud and I that, after he had left us, we agreed that he was the most fascinating man we had ever met. “He is ever so much homlier than papa,” said Maud. “What is it that is so charming about Jbim, Bel?" “I think it is the fact that we havO not met another man except These little oily Italians in weeks.and weeks. We shall have to look out or 'wo will bo getting jealous of each other.” After this Mr. Weber called upon us very frequently, . and together we four visited old-time prisons and modern St. Peters, and papa collected many a relic from among the mined edifices of ancient Rome, while Maudie, Mr, Weber, and myself sat among the fallen though classic stones of the city which had once ruled the world, and talked. I never Bhall forget those conversations. Mr. Weber was the most entertaining man I ever met. We have traveled extensively, but he had seen far more than we had ever dreamed. “ : Delightful were those bright hours beneath the blue Italian skies, but they were but the forerunners of the tragedy which darkened all ourlives. Will ’Weber had not been with us long before I knew that he was interested in either Maud or myself. I could tell it by the gleam in his eye when he joined us eveniDgs—by his every notion. I knew that in his breast an affection dwelt for one or the other of us two. The first week of our acquaintance he broughfletters of introduction from prominent men in America to papa, and seemed always to be very anxious that we should understand that he was respectable in every way. And this too strengthened the belief I had formed concerning him. But which was it? Was it Maud? Was it myself? It was bard to tell, and yet when L remembered the glances I had met from those gray eyes my cheek burned, and I believed with joy that it was myself and no other: ti Cautiously I approached my sister. “Mr’. Weber is very attentive tons, Maud. I wonder which of us it is which he amdires?” “You, too, . have noticed it, then?” she replied, with a bright blush. “Oh, Bel! Mabel! I was afraid that I might be mistaken, and I love him so, so dearly. Oh sister, dear sister, life would be nothing to me without his love. Oh Bel, it is such a strange feeling; all that I have read of it never has half described this strange, delicious joy.” ■ It Was well for me that she ran on in this w»y for some moments, not expecting any reply from me, for I do not know what I might have said to her. Never had I absolutely known before this moment that I loved Will Weber. What could I do? Maude was, fny little motherless sister whom I had always guarded so closely, and now she was my rival. For a moment I hated her fiercely; my heart throbbed in angry pain; I could have struck her iu my blind rage had it not been that some restraining hand seemed to hold me fast. What was it? Perhaps it was the shadow of the coming event of sorrow which gave mo fortitude to stand quietly looking at her while she Boasted of the sweetness,of the affection she bore to the man whom I felt was mine, mine alone. As she innocently chatted on to the sister in whom she felt she could fully confide, my heart changed within me; I must give him up and make no sign. Will Weber must be nothing to me but a brother henceforth and forever. It was agony to me, and I could not trtrst my voice to spenk. ’ i ”Bel, what makes you act so queer?” asked Maud at last. “Oh, I know you think I ought not to talk like this, even to you, until he has spoken to me of his love. Never mind, Madam Propriety. I feel that it will not be long before he speaks now.” “Did papa tell you we were all going out to Mr. Weber’s place this afternoon and have a look at papa’s treasures?” “Yes, he did,” replied Maud; “And I have been thinking that perhaps I may be invited to bo the mistress of the mansion before-we leaves it.” I turned away with a burning pain at my heart, and making an excuse, I remained in our little room while. Maud, happy in Bor love-dream, wont down to luncheon

jyith papa. Shortly after this Mr. Weber came for ns -with one of the strange little carriages peculiar, I think, to modern Borne, and we all started out to explore Mr. Weber’s Italian residence, tlie former abiding place of one of the cruelest of old Italian famiTios.--- -■ The day was delightful. Mr. Weber was in the brightest spirits. Maud was gay and witty; papa was enthusiastic over his bric-a-brac, and I alone was silent. Occasionally Mr. Weber glanced around at me as if to inquire the reason for my quietness, but I gave him no responsive glances, and it was not long before we reached our destination. The place was new to Maud and myself, l our only knowledge of it being gained from the gentleman’s reports of it and an occasional ride past it upon our donkeys. A closer acquaintance with it revealed many a feature which we had not before suspected. It was old, very old, and some 'way it brought back to mo all the weird old Italian history I had ever read.- The very air seemed suggestive of the assassin’s dagger and the terrible crimes of the Borgias of old. I kept close by papa's side when we looked over his collection, and my exEerienced eye told me that he had not een mistaken iu the value of the articles before us. .... Maud and Mr. Weber were very quiet, and after we had examined each article and had read the descriptive label papa had placed upon it, they came around to my side, nnd Mr. Weber said: “Now we must all go over the old house together. Miss Maud and I are afraid that we shall meet a ghost if we go alone.” Papa made an excuse. He could not be enticed away from his treasures to over-' look empty rooms, and we then started out together. “Do you ever intend to lire here, Ms. IVeber?” I asked, by way of making talk. “ ’Uni, no, I hardly think that I shall. That fancy passed away as the novelty of the place wore off. I hardly like the impression the place gives me.” “It seems rather gloomy," I replio^. We passed from one apartraeat to another, up, down, all over the mouldy old white marble palace, and at length we three paused in a little roonT with three of ltß sides composed of finely-sculptured marble columns connected with the most, delicate lattice work, “My Lady’s bower,"cried Maud, gayly flitting about the room. “What a lovely place!"- i Mr. Weber did not reply. I felt, that his eyes were fixed upon my face. I turned away from him and was going over to Maud's side, when she exclaimed, in a half frightened voice:"

“Oh, oh, Mr. Weber, look here. See what I have done,” ».■ M«. Weber was at ,her side instantly, and after a momentary examination said: “Yon have touched a spring to a secret drawer, Miss Maud, and been fortunate enough to discover what we have never seen before." It was ns he said. One of the white marble blocks had moved forward from its place in the side of the wall, and we saw thnt it was hollowed ont into the semblance of a drawer., At first it seemed to be empty, but Mr. Weber’s gray eyes had discovered something ut the bottom. » , “A ring,” ho cried,, bringing forth ft dusty circlet of gold. “Worth more than all your father’s collection, 100. ” A jewel unworn since the middle ages undoubtedly. See, Miss Mabel, it has a setting too; just note the peculiar luster of the stone." I glanced at the jewel which he had polished with his silk handkerchief, and its dull, unnatnral gleam made me shudder. It reminded me of the light in the eye of a serpent. “This jewel must have an owner," said Mr Weber, looking straight at me. “But which of the two fair damsels shall it be?” He held it up ns he spoke and Maud blushed rosy red. Mr. Weber moved a little nearer toward me. It seemed as if I were to be his choice. I turned quickly and ran out of the room and down the steps leading to the hall where papa was awaiting us. I did not tell him of our discovery, but I could not help eagerly waiting for the appearance of Mr. AVeber and my sister. They came at last, and 1 saw that the ring encircled Maud's finger. Mr. Weber began to relate the strange circumstance and Maud came straight to me. “Bel, dear sister, coax papa to return at once. Ido not feel right.” <,l Did he say anything?” I whispered. “No, I’m provoked at him; nothing only that I had a right to the ring as its discoverer. Lets go, papa,” she continued, “l am tired.” r I glanced at her face. It seemed as if some light in it were extinguished, and I hastened our departure. Papa could talV’of nothing but Maud's jewel all the way back to the hotel, and I think no one noticed but myself the deathlike pallor of her face. “I am faint,” she whispered, as we alighted at the ladles’ entrance. « “Lean on me, dear sister,” I replied, throwing my arm about her. AVe had entered our room, and I wns removing her wraps when she staggered and fell headlong in a faint as I thought. I hastily called papa, and Mr. AVeber ran for a physician. Maud could not be brought out of the strange state into which she had fallen, and it was with raptures that, I welcomed the physician when at length he came. He was an Englishman, and a welllearned man.

“She is dead," he said at once. “I think she has been poisoned.” __ . Every doctor in tho ancient place was summoned, and no one of them disagreed witij the verdict of the first comer. Our darling, my little sister, was dead, but who could there be that was enough ' her enemy to have wished her death. This puzzled us for hourß, but at length a wrinkled, yellow, little old Italian saw the ring which now lay upon our dressing table. “See, the cause of her death!” he cried in broken Italian. “The ring, the poisoned ring.” ’ v._T~ • His words were shortly verified. There was a tiny puncture upon Maudie’s finger just under the spot where "the ring had rested, and there the poison had entered her system and did its fatal work. All the English people and the Americans in the city came to condole with us, and to see the remnant of the dark days of Italy, which had found its way to the light only to deprive us of our darling. It formoil a sensational item for the newspapers of several of the great capital cities of the world, and then Maud wns forgotten by all but us three. I speak in that way because Mr. AVeber remained with üb. He told me that he never had cared for Maud save as for a sister, having loved me from the first, and he is now my own loving husband. So by her death Maud was saved the pain of loving one who did not care for her, and I, too, perhaps gained my happiness, for certain it is that I never should have accepted a lover at the cost of my sister’s happiness. And yet, ah yet I often think why ia .it that such things must be?

The Half-Breeds of Manitoba.

It was under the stress of such at 'FfiffiJile that the lialf-1 >re-e<l population of the Canadian Northwest, which has of late been so much before the world, grew to its present proportions. Its history carries us back to near the beginning of the eighteenth century. Arthur Dobbs, \vhoso' account *of the countries adjacent to Hudson Bay xvas published in 1744, obtained his information almost wholly from a half-breed trader called La France—a proof that the metis was not unknown a century and a half ago. The explorations of the Verandryes, father and sons, lasted from 1731 to 1754. After the conquest of Canada by England the fur trade ceased for some years; but in 1766 theMontrealers began to push northwestward, and from that time their agents, mostly French- Canadians, mingled freely with the Indians—the consequence being The growth of ahalf-breed community. . There w;as a considerable population known by their chosen designation of Bois Brules (for which they sometimes substituted the more ambitious style of “the new nation”), when Lord Selkirk began his scheme of colonization in 1811. That even then they were not all French is shown by some of t heir surnames being Scotch or English. But it is from the years immediately following tho establishment of the Bed Biver Colony that the bulk qf English-speaking half-breeds date their first appearance. In the year 1814 they numbered 200. In 1870 the Manitoba half-breeds and metis (as those of British and Freneh origin may be distinguished! were estimated at 10,000. Besides-them, there was a population of uncertain number scattered through the territories, and a tribe of half-breed hunters which one early explorer deemed to be 6,000 strong. In 1874 Dr. G- M. DawsOn. while engaged in the British North American Boundary Commission, came upon the camp of the latter body, consisting of 200 bu-ffalo-skin tents and 2,000 horses. Dr. Dawson considers the rise in this way Of an independent tribe of half-breeds as “oneofthe most remarkable phenomena connected with the grand ethnological experiment which has been in progress on the North-American Continent for the last three centuries.” Pbejttdice is the reason of fools.— Voltaire.

HOME, FARM, AND GARDEN.

Talks with the Fanner, Orchards, Stock-Breeder, Poulterer, and Housekeeper. Hints on House Decorations, Kitchen , Economy, and the Preservation of Health. THE FARM. The Farmers' ITorkshop. Every farmer should have a small building for keeping tools and the smaller implements used On the farm. Here, with a comfortable fire in winter, much pleasant and profitable work may be done making conveniences for barn or house, mending and oiling harness and doing many things that would either be undone or cost a considerable sum were a tradesman employed to do them. Except near cities it is cheaper to buy the materials for bushel boxes or crates for fruit or potatoes and put them together. This will make a good job for many winter days, and may be just the thing to induce some boys who have a mechanical turn of mind to remain on the farm. Grass-Raising. It matters not how widely farmers may differ in judgment concerning the relative value and profit of raising different farm crops, all will agree as to the importance of raising standard crops Of grass in preference to all others, as the foundationstone to all profitable farming. Therefore, it is not a matter of surprise when a farm becomes run down from overpasture or deficient in hay that the first ontcry should be for more grass. This is the great cry now among farmers everywhere, and he is rated the best farmer who cuts the greatest number of tons of hay, and oan keep a corresponding number of cattle to the hundred acres throughout the year, without the aid of foreign supplies. Grainraising and pasturing may be made mutually profitable for a time without a rotation'of cropß, but the time is certain to come when grain-farming needs to bo alternated with grass. The use of special fertilizers, however liberally they are applied, will not prevent, lalthough it may delay, the entire impoverishment of the , poil for a time, but the result is always the same in the end. That the destruction of the fertility of the farm is accelerated just in proportion to the weight and substance of the crop removed from the soil, and the speed with which it is effected, is now admitted by all, and its fertility is extended just in proportion to the good judgment of the farmer engaged iii Cultivating it.— Orange County Farmer.

Sheep 1 mprove the Saif, The consumption of mutton is increasing in this country, especially in large cities, says The Sheep-Breeder, and it hns become profitable to supply this demand. It is profitable, first, because the pricn is renumerative, and secondly, because it is promotive of good husbandry—the improvement of the soil. The various cereal crops aro depleting, rapidly exhausting, to the soil; but a crop of muttion or wool takes but an imperceptible fraction, and, under the best management, adds to its fertility. The mineral matter taken from the soil by a five-pound fleece of wool is only 1.6 ounces in a year, and 5 ounces of nitrogen. In order that the reader may see what part of the food is stored up in the body of the sheep, and what is passed in the solid and liquid excrements, we will quote from the German tnbles of experiments; It waß found that when sheep consumed 100 pounds of nitrogen in their food (being barley meal) 16.7 pounds was voided in the solid excrement, 79 pounds iu the liquid excrement, and 4.3 pounds was stored np as increase of the body. Thus 95.7 per cent, of the nitrogen of the food was voided in the excrement, leaving as a loss to (Stored up in thsbody) only 4.3 per cent Of tbs' mineral or ash constituents of the food it was found that sheep voided in the excrement 96.2 per cent, and used in the body only 3.8 per cent AVhen sheep were fed upon good clover and meadow hay the solid excrement contained of ash 3.5 per cent, of nitrogen 0.7 per cent., while the urine contained of aßh 5.6 per cent., of nitrogen 1.4 per cent,

THE STOCK-BREEDER. Food for Stock. Too much care cannot be exercised in saving everything about the farm which can be utilized as stock-food during the coming winter. AYhatever the exact shortage may prove to be in the corn crop it is quite certain to be enough to make prices unusually high, and no farmer can afford to use it as lavishly as when prices are lower. It is a part of prudence, therefore, to provide as large supplies as possible of other foods. Perhaps there is no direction in which so much can be accomplished as in cutting up com-fodder. It is pursued to a greater or less extent by all good farmers every year, and is always to be recommended, but in seasons like this the advantages to be secured are unusually great. As remarked,a month or two ago by the Gazette, “feed bids fair to be feed” the coming winter, and the farmer who has an abundance will have some opportunities for profit which less provident people will not enjoy.— Breeders’Gazette.

The Importance of Good Jireeds. It may be safely claimed that a good animal requires no more room in the stable than will one that is inferior, and therefore a saving of labor is effected in leasing the cost of care and attention, it being as easy to manage the superior animal as it is to give the labor to the other. But the saving in shelter, room, and labor is not the only item. As only the most approved machinery is used by manufacturers in order to enable them to produce goods at the lowest cost and compete in markets with each other, so should tho farmer take advantage of his opportunities with pure-bred stock and lessen the cost by increasing the amount of product, As the adopt the kind of machine most suitable, so may the farmer select the kind of stock for his special purpose. While on many farms no regard is given the breeding or characteristics of the animals used, yet the farmer has it in his powetjo use cattle that excel in butter, beef, or .milk, and as some breeds combine several good qualities, his advantages are not limited. There is.no necessity for devoting a stall to a cow that yields only ten quarts of milk per day when, by judicious breeding, 4 the’ product may be doubled. We can point to special cows that have yielded over forty quarts of milk per day, and cows are numerous that produce over twenty pounds of butter per week. Steers have been known to gain three pounds weight daily, rams have sheared over thirty pounds of wool, and mutton sheep have attained 400 pounds live weight in two year*, while the hog seems to have an easy time gaining a pound daily for twelve months. ft is not supposed that every farmer will be so fortunate as to possess animals of extraordinary merit, but as long as such excellence exists the farmer should be encouraged to strive always for something better. There is no middle ground in keeping stock. There must either be an improvement or a retrogression. The farmer who does not have some tobject in

view wjll sooner or Inter be compelled to dispose of his Btock as unprofitable, ns the difference between profit and loss is in the animals and their management. The cost of improvement is, fprtunately, but n small sum compared with the benefits derived, ns nature has endowed the males with the’ capacity pf begetting a large progeny,- Anil as experiments have demonstrated that the characteristics of a breed ; mnv be transmitted through the male line j it becomes but a. matter of a few seasons ! when nn entire herd or flock ,may be j changed. If one will but calculate the ad- ! ditionnl value imparted to the stock by ' only a single cross it will readily be perceived that the services performed by tho male more thnn balances his cost the first season, and as he may be nseful for several years it is not only costless and economical to improve bnt very profitable, as stock that formerly’ did not repay their cost may, by a change to grades, add so largely to milk, beef, or butter as to make it an object to still further improve. The performances of celebrated animals show what oan be done, and every farmer should aim to improve his stock to whatever point others have reached. THE DAIRYMAN. a Cow should Yield. Something depends, of course, upon the kind of a cow, but no cow is a good one that does not yield 2,500 quarts of milk in one yenr, or about seven quarts a day for the 365 days. She will be dry a portion of the time, and, of course, will yield more when fresh than when toward the end of her milking period, but she should not give less than seven quarts daily for every day in the year. The milk should produce 200 pounds of butter, or a pound to every twelve and a half quarts of milk, which at 25 cents a pound the whole year would yield S4O. The value of the calf depends upon its breetting.wbile the skim milk fed • to pigs, and the manure, should realize nt least $25 more, making SOS. This sum, fixed at profit, however, may vary, ns the price of food is cheaper in Rome localities than in others. Dairymen differ as to the amount of profit a cow should give. Some claim as niuch as SSO a year, but such dairymen sell the milk directly to consumers ns a fair price. The safest estimate is made upon the practice of skimming the milk and raising pigs, which will increase the profit, especially if a good breed of hogs be used iu connection with a first-class lot of dairy cows. Jinlter on the Farm

A Massachusetts man who received the first premium in butter at tjie Essex County Fair of that State last fall, tells bow his butter was made. Condensed, bis account shows that the milk was strained in shallow pans, in a cool room, to stand until the animal heat escaped. It was then removed to the milk room and allowed to stand from thirty-six to forty-two hours, then skimmed, and the cream put in the cream jars, care being taken to thoroughly stir it with each new addition of cream. AVhen slightly acid it waschurned until the butter reached the granular state, the buttermilk was drawn off, and a pailful of weak brine was put in the churn and churned for a few minutes. This was drawn off and another pailful of brine put in and churned as before. AVht n sufficiently washed, the butter was taken from the chum before drawing off the brine, as the small, cheesy particles which sometimes adhere to the butter are better removed than by first drawing off the brine. The butter was then worked over and salted, three-fourths of an ounce of salt to the pound, much care being taken to remove all the buttertnilk. Ihe butter was then put in large earthen pahs and placed in a cool-cellar until the next morning, when it was again worked over, weighed and made into prints, and again placed iu the cellar until the next day, when it was readv for market. As far as possible the milk and cream should be kept at about sixty degrees through the whole operation of churning and wotking. In relation to the stirring of cream it may be well to remark that it should not be merely round and -round, but so as to thoroughly incorporate every part one with another. Again, it is necessary to stir the cream occasionally until ehnmed. It must be remembered that cream and milk begin to sour from the bottom, and hence the importance of fnlly roixingthe mass in all its parts. It may be added also that the utmost cleanliness should be observed in all the details from milking to packing, and when packed keep as cool as possible until delivered to the customer. Thus as good butter as the best may be made, whether the cows are few or many; and if sweet grasses and proper fodder are fed the flavor will be all that can be desired.

THE ORCHARDIST. • ■— Renovating Old Orchards. Young apple trees often require a long time to come into bearing, and this is especially true where they are well cultivated and liberally manured. An old orchard, on the contrary, can hardly have too much manure, but will be more productive with close pruning rather than with severe cultivation- If the old orchard has been long unused to the plow, be careful not to plow except when the tree is dormant, and injury to the roots is easily repaired. Starving Orchards. AA’hile in the AVest last fall, the appeal ance of the older trees attracted my attention. In Illinois, very many of these orchards had every indication of neglect. Many trees seemed to be slowly but surely starving to death, and the general complaint was as to the inferior quality of apples produced. I saw many farms on which were orchards (some having two); but orcharding seemed to be, as a rule, second-ary-to general farming* The chief plant food supplied to the soil I found to be barnyard manure and lime. In most soils these will not furnish the requisite and proper amount of plant food for the apple. Barnyard manure depends for its component parts upon the food of the animals from which it is made. It is too variable in quality to be depended on as food for all plants. Lime is one of the forms of food demanded by the apple, but niany soils contain a sufficient amount without any addition. Potash in some form should be present in the soil of every orchard. In many instances dressings of hard-wood ashes w ill remedy the rotting of apples, and also cause them so keep longer in good order. Potash stimulates a better wood growth than lyne, which*is apt to make the growth Boft, so that it goes into winter quarters ill prepared for the cold.

Objection is sometimes made to the nse of potash, as tending to retard the early maturing df the bud in the fall. Bone, in some form, will rectify tbiß effect if it occurs. Hard- wood ashes is one of the best forms of food for an apple orchard, furnishing potash as well as phosphoric acid, the element supplied-by.;, pone, lit-, many sections of the West; Where wheat Btrawstaeks are burned, the ashes therefrom will be found valuable'Tor orchards. The ash from corn-cobs is one of the most valuable for potash, containing about sixty pounds of potash in each 100 pounds of ashes. The dirt beneath wood piles affords another valuable form of potash; also chip dirt and soil from the surface of woodlands. Potash is also to be had in the form of muriate of potash, Bulphate of potash, and ranrite, substances known as commercial fertilizers. These forms of potash,which nra derived from matter usually allowed to go to waste on the farm, are

the oneg which every fruit-grolser should save. . ■ Barnyard manure, although one of the best plant foods, is too largely made up of water for economy in use, and tho qnantity necessary to beupplied’to the soil l© furnish those elements required bv the apple,- if the grower is looking, for profit; make* it very expensive when the hauling iff taken into account. Many owners of orchards, especially the inexperienced, labor under a grave misapprehension as to the pro]>er supply of plant food demanded by most Roils in tho production of heavy crops of finely flavored fruit. What to many of these men seems to be an overplus, ia leally a deficiency. ~ True, it sometimes happens that an orchard is overfed, but in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred, there is a lack of plant food. I have seen 400 bushels of hardwood ashos profitably applied to an acre of orchard landTHE POULTRY-YARD. Guinea liens. There is one advantage in keeping guinea fowls with other poultry, ns their loud noise frightens awny hawks and other enemies. Guinea-fowl meat is dork, bnt has a gamey flavor liked by those who have a fancy for game. As egg producers guinea fowls are excellent, though their habits of roaming causes many of the eggs to be lost. ' Preserving Kggs, Take a common box, such as is used for packing canned tomatoes; upon a twoinch layer of fresh, clean oats place the eggs, large end down, and leave space of at least an inch between the eggs; cover with a layer -ff oats and then place another layer of eggs, as before, nntil the box ia nearly full; fill it with oats, packing the grain in neatly, and screw on the top; place your box iu a cool cellar, and turn it upside down every other day. If strictly fresh eggs are used, and the turning is attended to as directed, few persons will know them from fresh eggs, and they will certainly be much superior to limed or pickled eggs. — r~ Feediny Young Chicks. The majority of farmers feed com meal dongh to chicks and expect the little things to thrive upon it. Cofn-menl is excellent for them, bnt they require something else additional. The chiek will not need any food at all for twenty-four hours after emerging from the shell, for nature makes provision for it in that respect. The second day after being hatched hard boiled eggs, crumbled fine, is the most suitable food. They may be given such for two or three days, allowing milk for drink at the same time. If eggs are fed continually they will cause bowel disease, and hence tho food should be varied after the chicks are four or five days old. An excellent and cheap food for them is to beat np two eggs in a quart of milk, which should be thickened to a stiff dough with a mixture of one part corn meal, two parts ground oats, and one part middlings; season with a little salt and bake in the oven into bread, which may be crumbled for them. It will be found very nourishing and wholesome. This food should be varied with another made by boiling a piece of meat or liver to pieces, the broth and meat to be thickened with buckwheat men], baked, and fed as before. Chopped onions, lettuce, or cabbage, will also be acceptable. Avoid feeding raw com meal, and do not give whole grains nntil the chicks are ten days old, screenings, broken rice, and cracked com may be fed. As they grow older gram should be substituted for screenings. Heat is more essential than feeding. If young chicks are exposed, and become chilled, it usually results in cold on the bowels, which is attributed to the food. If fed four times a day, they will grow rapidly.

THE GARDENER. Rosea Kept Free from Mildew. Syringe vonr roses lightly—just enough to wet the foliage; then apply a little flower of sulphur , with the sulphur bellows. and if it be not a very bad case this will check it. Also, mix a little sulphur and lime-water or tobacco-water to the consistency of paint and apply it to the coldest end of your flue; that is, providing the coldest end does not get heated to over 200 degrees. If hotter than that it might injure your plants.— Gardeners? Monthly. Suggestions for 1 hose IVho Set Store by Their Vegetables. All quick-maturing crops require much richer soil and better cultivation than those that are longer in maturing. Late peas, like Champion of England or Marrowfat, will yield a profitable crop on moderately rich laud without manure, but the kinds that mature early in May must be furnished an abundance of plant food in such a form'as to be at once available. The same is true of most, if not all, crops; the shorter the time in which they mature, the better chance they should have. In all crops that come up thick nnd require to be thinned, every day’s neglect after the plants are large enough to be thinned reduces the yield of the crop. Beets, carrots, radishes, lettuce, parsnips, and all such crops should be thinned atsoon as you can get hold of them with thumb and finger. In planting early potatoes some days may be gained by cutting the seed and spreading it in a warm room until it callouses and the buds begin to start ,_and to avoid danger of freezing the seed should be crowded down into the bottom of the furrow by stepping on it, and covered with two inches* of partly rotted manure before the earth is put on. Planted in this way mercury may fall to ten degrees for a single night without injuring them.— Vick’s Floral Magazine.

THE COOK. Cookies, One cup of butter, two cups of sugar, three eggs, two teaspoonfuls each of baking powder and boiling water, and flour enough to knead as soft as can be rolled out. * f ruit tittups. One and a half cupfuls of sugar, one of butter, one-half cupful of molasses, three eggs, one teaspoonful of soda, one capful of raisins, one of currants, one tablespoonful of ginger, one of cloves, one of cinnamon, one of allspice, sufficient flour to roll out as soft as can be cut. These will keep several months. It hits Gravy for Fish. Put into a-pint of boiling water, or the water the fish has been boiled in, a small bunch of savory herbs, a little pieee of lemon rind, four cloves, font peppercorns and a little salt, letting them comedo a simmer, and then strain; stir into the liquid a tablespoonful of flour, with two ounces of the best butter, mixed smoothly together. Let it boil five minutes. Chop a hardboiled egg and put in tureen wjiih the gravy.' Cup Pudding. •*- j Make a batter as if for waffles. To one pint of mak allqw two eggs and enough flour to thicken. One teaspoonfut of baking powder should be stirred into the flour. Fill a sufficient number of teacups with this and with fruit if you wish, currants and raisins in layers. Then set the cups in a steamer nod lEt the water boil underneath for a full hour; serve while hot with a sugar and butter sauce or cream. Jam or chopped apples ean be used in place of currants and raisins.