Rensselaer Republican, Volume 20, Number 12, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 24 November 1887 — Page 2

THi: WAY TO SING. .t.io birds must know. \Vho wisely Kings Will sing as they; The oomtnou air has generous wings. » Bongs make thuir wiy. i . # . - No messenger to i*u» liefore. Devising plan: No mention oi the i>laoe or hour ' To any man; No waiting thl some souml helrayt A listeutug <-«r No difltrcul. no nut delays. 11 slejvs draw near. ■« 4fr* . ••What hir>l is that? Its so»g ts ; Aud eager eye*. 1 Go peering through the dusky w ood lit glad surprise. Then late at night, when by his tire The trawler kits, .-'"s ] * * Watching SM flames grow lirighter, higher. The sweet song flits By snatches through it is weary braiti To help him rest. When«nezt he goes that road again, l An empty nest On leAfless bough will make film sigh.. ••Ah, me! Last spring Just here I heard, in passing by. That rare bihi aing!" + But while he sings, remembering llow sweet the song, ? The little bird, on tireless winx. , Is borne along - In other air. and other mun, WTlh weary feet. On other roads, the simple strain Are finding sweet. The birds must know. Who wisely sings Will sing as they; The common air has generous wing*. Songs make their way. Helen Hunt.

A COMPETENT MAN.

The Bargain Which He Matte One Thanksgiving Day. “I tell ysu,” said Grandfather Blythe, bringing down his cane at the end of every word, by way of giving proper emphasis to his remark, “that—yoa —shall —not—marry hint!” Freddie did not reply, but the Blythe temper showed itself p’ainlv enough in her flashing glance and heightened oolor, and she looked her grandfather ooolly in the face. "An affected jackanapes,” continued the old man in an irate tone, still stamping with his cane, “who knows no manlier a way of earning a living than to daub spots of paint onto canvas, and call it art. You shall not marry him, Predema!” “And I say,” retorted Freddie, “that 1 will marry him—that if this is your only objection to a manly, honorable man who loves me, and—and—whom I love, it is no objection at all.” Grandfather Blythe waved his fat hand with a gesture befitiing royalty itself, and relapsed into chid severity. • “That will do* Frederica. In my day young ladies did not so far forget themselves as to declare their own attachment to young gentlemen. Go ta your room, and when you can conduct yourself with propriety, we will talk this matter over.” Freddie choked back the sob that her —pride w mid not allow her to utter, and swept out of the sitting-room with all the dignity she could muster, but she did not go to her chamber. There was a cool, shady nook by the parks of a stream that formed a boundary to the old orchard, where a hammock swung in a most inviting manner from the gnarled branches of a certain old apple tree, and thither she betook herself.

She did not confess, even to her own thoughts, that the prospect of meeting a certain person who haunted the vicinity with a sketch-b<>ok under his arm hand any tiring to do with shaping her course. „ All the same she was not surprised when she beard a few bars of ‘‘Annie Laurie” whistled in mellow, flute-like tones, mid saw a tall, slouching form, clad m a loose, velvet coat, vault lightly over the fence, that ran at right angles with the river, and come rapidly up the path through the loose tangles of grass. She looked in the opposite direction, and pretended not to see or hear. “And she's all the world to me,” a voice sang softly, coming nearer. “Still she did not turn. The footsteps came close, closer, and then a hand was kid on the hammock that swung lazily to and fro, and a smiling face bent over “Max!” in a tone of feigned astonishment “Freddie!’’ imitating her manner. Then they both laughed “Freddie”— seriously—“l have been trying to move the hard heart of Grandfather Blythe.’, “Max”—seriously also—“I have been trying to soften the 6tern heart of V Grand father Blythe.” “And, Freddie, I have failed.” « “It was an ignominons failure on my part, Max.” They tried to laugh, but Freddie; remembering her grandfather’s reproof, sighed instead. She took up Max’s sketching book that he had laid in the hammock beside her, and began to turn over the pages. . They were rough sketches only, but •lever, too, with a dashing freedom of touch that showed the element of undeniable gemoain every stroke. To the simple country girl they were the revelations of another life. Here was a tropical forest, the shadows of the cypress trees, draped with festoons of Spanish moss falling hard across a still—lagoon, the yellow moon half obscured by clouds, throw- - Ing a weird, ghostly lightoveralh One was a farm scene, and In the

figure that bent over the low, old-fash-ioned well-curb, to lift the moescovered bucket, Freddie recognised herself. This Sketch showed a boat, drifting down a river between green fields that stretch away on either side, wtthsleepy cattle resting under leafy trees; that, a batoeet field, with laborers leaning on tlieir rakes, amid ripe harvest sheaves; a rude cottage in tho distance, where a young, mother stood in , the doorway, with laughing children clinging to her gown; or a skiff rocking on the waves, the moonlight marking its silver track across the water, or painting strange, fantastic pictures on the ro»cks above, and again, a tropic forest, where one could fancy he heard some far-off bird calling to his mate from low hung boughs, amid the groves of spice and I balm. Freddie drew alongjbreath of rapture. To her they were marvels of artistic expression. “I would give it ail up, Freddie for your sake, if I must.” Tears sprang to her eyes. She looked across to her grandfathor’s meadow where the men were at work, and pointed to them with an involuntary look of contmpt on her pretty face. “And be—liice them?” “Yes, even like them, or near as nature would permit. Freddie—there would be a difference, I fancy, even then.” “Max!” joyfully springing to the ground in her excitement—“l have a plae to propose to you:” and with many interjections and exclamations, and much exhnltant laughter, she proceeded to uufold its details to Max. “Conld’t have happened at a worse time,” growled Grandfather Blythe, as he contemplated his puffy, tender ankle, streaked with yellowish green—a bad sprain that he had got from chasing a refractory colt. “Yes,” answered the doctor, a callow young man, with straight, yellow locks, immense goggles, and a professional gravity of manner; “this promises to be something serious, Mr. Blythe.” “And there is the hay ready to cut and get in before it rains, and no help, hardly, and none to be got for love or money.” “Grandpa,” said a soft voice from the other room, “Here is a man who is looking for work.” *‘Bepd him here at once,” said the old man, forgetting fol a moment The agonising twinges of his ankle in his anxiety for his hay. A tall form, with an awkward stoop in his shoulders, clad in a long linen dusier, and surmounted by a head of straggling red hair, showed itself at the open door. ‘‘Humph!” growled the testy occupant of the lounge, “so you want work# do you? What can you do?” “Wa’al,” drawled a loud nasal voice, “I can do most any thing, but I’m a master hand in a hay field, Square. Brought up on a farm, ye see, and bin used to it all my life.” "Freddie,” called the ’squire, “give him something to eat. I s’pose he’s hungry—they always are. And after he’s fed, show him the way to the meadow.”

Freddie, almost convulsed with merriment at the gawky stranger’s manner, came forward obediently and offered to conduct him to the kitchen, but he declined to eat “till ’twas earned, ' he said, and slouched off toward the hay field. Half an hour afterward Grandfather Blythe, watching the stranger from the window, saw him loading hay with a swiftness and dexterity that distanced all competitors. His awkward movements, his limping walk, qstd his frowzy red l air seemed to acquire almost dignity by the facility and ease with which he worked. “He’s a prize,” chuckled Mr. Blythe; “worth a dozen ordinary pitchers. Of course he’ll run away in a day or two; these tramps always do.” But, contrary to ’Squire Blythe’s prediction, he did not. On the contrary, he grew more and more helpful, as the season advanced, and as ’Squire Blythe grew more and more incapable of using his foot, the tramu’s experience and advice proved valuable to the irritable old man, until at last he came to be regarded as an authority, to be respected and consulted on all doubtful points. It was Thanksgiving, and the odors of fniits, Spices and all sorts of savorv tuells filled the Blythe kitchen and dining room,where Freddie flitted about dimpling with smiles, 'preparing the Thanksgiving dinner. “Sandy,” as the red haired stranger waecaHed, sat by tfte sotith window; which was filled with crimson roses and while chrysanthemums. He held a new spaper in his hands; as if engaged in reading, but his eyes wandered from its columns to where Freddie stood, her sleeves rolled up above her round dimpled elbowß, her white hands covered with flour, her cheeks flushed with exercise. Grandfather Blythe walked into the kitchen, leaning heavily on his cane. Half way across the room he paused and spoke to “Sandy.” * “I want a competent man to take Charge of my farm next year,” he hegan, “one who is capable, who understands practical farming—in short I want you. Name your price, and if the terms are not to extravagant. I’ll fant business with you.”^ “My price mrf”

“Sandy” bad risen now and walked across the kitchen to where Freddv Stood. “My price, sir, is here.” “What?” thundered the Squire, “do you mean to insult my granddaughter?" “By no means, sir,” answered the tramp, respectfully, removing his red wig and disclosing the brown curling locks o<{;. Max Stanton, the artist, “I am of as good a family as yonr own; I love your granddaughter, and believe I eould make her happy. lam fond of art, it is true, hilt I think I have demonstrated the fact that I am. not, on that account, entirely devoid of common kense.” ; ■ Driven to hay, as it were, the Squire admitted the justice of the remark, and, turning to Freddy, whose cheeks were crimson as the roses in the window, he asked gruffly, “What do you say, die?”.We will not attempt to give Freddie’s answer, an answe'r in dimples, srailss, blushes, and incoherent, not to say irrelevant, remarks, but we are bound, as varacious chroniclers, to record the fact that in the long and happy years she spent as Max’s wife, neither she nor Squire Blythe ever had cause to regret the events of this special Thanksgiving Day.

A LOVER’S STRATEGEM.

How He Won a Maiden After Three 1 - Refusals. Americus (Or.) Republican. A young countryman who had long loved a girl who lived a mile or two from him was nearly in despair about winning her hand, and was on the ©ve of selling Out and leaving the country, as the girl had refused him three times and it was "hut that she was engaged to another iellow. Our. hero had noticed that his rival and the girl would walx in an old meadow r field nearly every afternoon, and he grew madly jealous. In his cattle he had a young bull that was always mad with everything but his master, because he was an especial pet. Now Dave, as he called the bull, was to be the object with which to satiate his revenge. He would turn him into the meadow, hide himself and see his rival t oeeed like a football. So, one afternoon, calling in Dave, who would follow him like a dog, he repaired to the meadow, let the fence down, and turned the bull in.v He then strolled ofi, and walked around as miserable as a man could be who was committing an Avil deed. An hour or so later he heard the deep mutterings of the bull, and, hastening to the meadow fence, he saw Dave, about twenty yards from the couple, pawing dirt and shaking his head. The mas was trying to get the girl to run, but she was so terrified that she could not move. The bull made a dash and the fellow ran shrieking for the fence. The bull dashed on alter the flying fellow, while our disconsolate young man, having jumped the fence, rushed to the girl as the bull dashed on after the fugitive rival, and, catching her in his arms, told her that such a coward was unworthy of her. As Dave saw his young master he left off pursuing the other man, returned and went to licking his hand, while the indignant girl vowed she would never more speak to a man tha i was airaid-of a cow. She soon after married Dave’s boss.

Best Thoughts of Best Men. Lord Bacon: No cord or cable can draw so forcibly or bind so fast as love can do with only a single thread. Colton: The strongest friendships have been foraioi in mutual adversity, as iron is most strongly united by the fiercest flame-. Addison: The person who has a firm trust in a Supreme Being is powerful in his power, wise by his wisdom, happy by his happiness. Sir Thomas Browne. Errors, such as are but acorns in our younger brows, grow oaks >n our older heads, and be come inflexible. Seneca: Nothing so soon reconciles us to the thought of 6ur own 1 death as the prcspect of one friend after another dropping around us. T. Fuller: As the sword of the best tempered metal is most flexible, so the truly generous are most pliant and courteous in their behavior to their inferiors. ' =■ —rfe r Earl of Clarendon: They who are most weary of life, and yet are most unwilling to die, are such as have lived to no purpose, who have rather breathed than lived. _i__ _ South: That which lays a man open to an enemy, and that which strips him of a friend, equally attacks him in those interests , that are capable of being weakened by the one and supported by the other. Lori Bacon: Many examples may be put on the force of custom, both upon mind and body; therefore, since custom is the principal magistrate of man’s life, let men by all means endeavor to obtain good customs. Dr. Johnson: Marriage is the strictest; tie of perpetual friendship, aud there can b« no friendship without confidence, and no confidence without integrity; and he must ekpect to be wretched who pays to beauty, riches or politeness that regard which only virtue and piety can claim., '*> Who cannot hate, can lovejnot; if he (frier#, His tears4ne barren a*rfae untrnitfnt r»tn That rears no harvest from the green sea’a plain And as thorns crackling this man's laugh in min. ~T - A. 0. Bwinhume. H# prayeth best who loveth best For tbs dear God who loveth ns. He made and loveth all.

TOPICS OF THE TIME.

I The New York. Election and the Prospects lor 1888. ; Wag*« In Knrapa and America »nd ( What Democrat Ic Tariff Tinker* Would Do for American Workman—Cleveland’* Swing Around the Circle Coat Him Nothin* THE NEW YORK ELECTION. j India uapolis.Journal. The Democrats, have carried their Htate ticket, and have defeated the effort of the decent people of the city to keep the office of District Attorney out of the hands of the boodlers. That defeat, accomplished by thjs worst methods, is a distinct step backwards toward Tweedism, and all that the term implies. The dtfeat, accomplished by corruption as scandalous as any that transpired in the palmiest days of the arch thief and political boss. In this work the national administration bore a conspicuous part. Mr. Whitney abandoned his duty, and has been in New York for a long time aiding in working the wires end in raising the corruption fund ’that has been used without stint. Mr. Cleveland himself contributed to swell the corruption fund, and gave his official aid to the ring ticket and worst candidate in the most conspicuoslyoffeiisive way. Political history will be searched in vain for a parallel to the action of Grover Cleveland in the New York City campaign. He has has been the head and front of the boodlers; the verv high prie3t of corruption. So far as the State and city alke are concerned, the efforts of the Cleveland and Hill Democracy have been united, and tlie result of course, will be the nomination of both for the offices they now fill. The election settles the question of Mr. Cleveland’s re-nomination, and he has evidently concluded that the Unite! Democracy can go it alone, or that the mugwumps are so addle-headed that they will vote for him anyhow. In that belief he is justified by the past actions and present talk of his chief mugwump allies. Not his scandalous action in Maryland, or the more outrageous action elsewhere has been sufficient to disturb the serenitv of such men as George William Curtis, et id genus. It is questionable whether the results of yesterday’s electior; even, will affect their dull complacency on their determination to stick to the colossal fraud they perpetrated upon the people of the country. As the Journal predicted, neither the Labor nor Prohibition vote was anything what was claimed. The Labor ticket has not received much more than 60,000 in the entire State; while George had 68,000 in New York city alone last year. The Prohibition vote has increased somewhat, and so far as reported the increase seems to keep pace pretty evenly with the Republican net loss in the interior of the State. THE PBQgPECXS FOR 1888. —^ Indianapolis Journal. The New York election clears up some doubts and settles some points in regard to the next Presidential contest. First, it settles the fact, if it was doubted before, of Mr. Cleveland’s re-nomination and increases the chances of his election. Asjmatters stand at present, his renomination by the Democratic party may be regarded as settled. There is a possibility that events may occur during the next six or eight months to change this situation, but it is not probable. From this time on the renomination of Cleveland may a£ well be accepted as a fixed feet. A second reeult of the election is to bring Indiana to the front in the calculations of the Republicans. The Democrats having carried New York by over 30,000 in an off year, may assert, with considerable show of reason, their ability to carry it by as large a majority next year. Without admitting the claim, it

must be recognized as not unreasonable. Can any Republican carry New York against Cleveland, if so who? Unless this double question can be answered satisfactorily, the Republican party must look away from New York for success. Any Republican programme of success that leaves out New York: must include Indiana. Cleveland may carry the Solid South (Brough it is not certain he can) and New York and still not be elected. There are 401 electoral torai votes, and it takes 201 to elect. The Solid South has 153 votes,, lacking 48 of enough to elect. Give Cleveland New York, 36, and he would like 12 votes. New York, w r ith Connecticut 6, and New Jersey 9, would elect him. But if the Republicans can carry every North State except York they can succeed. This would give them 212 electoral votes, eleven more to an enough to elect. Out of this they could spare Connecticut or New Jersey either, but not both. They could not spare In diana with its 15 votes. It is therefore likely to become a very interesting question for Republibans as to who can carry Indiana. If New York ceases to be the pivotal State Indiana may become so. If the Republicans are likely to lose the former they must carry the latter they are gone. This brings the front. It lookß now as if this might become the battle-ground in 1888. Indiana and Connecticut can elect the President. o .

DEMOCRATIC TARIFF REFORM

New York Special in Philadelphia Press. Senator Frye, of Maine, is spending the week here as one of the speakers in the State campaign. He has been investigating the industrial situation in Europe ever since last spring, and during his tonr abroad visited every country but Russia. He came back a few weeks ago loaded down with information and statistics and in the best of health and spirits, I met him recently justashe was leaving with ex-Senator Miller for Albany. “The tariff will be the great’question before Congress this winter.” he said, “and in the nations campaign next year. Labor represents more than half the cost of every manufactured article, and I made up my mind a year ago to make a tour o> the European workshops and learn for myself and by actual observation just what Ame ican manufacturers had to compete with in the one item of wages alone. With our mountains bulging with iron ores, our earth with the best pottery elaya, onr factories turning ont as fine silks as any woman wants to wear, and our furnaces making as good steel rails

as England can. yet the dutiable pro ducts of foreign labor that reach this country in,a single year amount to over 1600,000,000. That means that the home market has been undersold by outsiders to that extent and that our industries are jnsethat much out oi pocket. • The 1 one item of labor makes this difference iu their favor, despite the great natural advantages which wepoeseeed' - ‘What did you gather from yourobseFvations in the European labor field?” 1 asked. ‘ First, that one-third qf the working people of all Europe are in the most wretched condition of abject poverty ” replied Senator Frye. “Secondly, that you may hunt over the entire payrolls, as I did, and only once in 5,000 naines can you find a laoorer, skilled or other- ! wise, who is earning a dollar a flay. In Brussels, skilled women in the lace factories get about twenty cents a day. Frhnce and Germany do not pay any higher wages in the' same line, while Italy and Switzerland pay less by five or six cents. I went over m&ny of the iron and steel factories in Belgium and could not find a single man who got more than eighty cents. The average there was about sixty cents. At the Longloan Iron Works, on the Clyde, where 'they make 300 tons of pig iron a day, the laborers get from fifty-four to sixty-two cents per day; skilled mbn earn Beventyfive cents to $1.12, and more of them the lower figure rather than the higher one. What sort of life would they Pennsylvania pig-iron makers li\je if the had such wages? Why, coal and iron miners have to work had to make over $5 per week, and out of that they have to board themselves. A good many of the free-trade orators tell us of the great Clyde and its army of contented workmen. If they would go over there, as I have, and see nearly 40,000 families in Glasgow living in one room apiece, and more than half the men and women out of work; perhaps they would charge the basis of their arguments for a tariff reduction. “The condition of the working people of England and Ireland to-day;” continued the Maine Senator, is so near pauperism that it cannot be called anything else. English industries are almost at a stand-still, and a large proportion of the wage-earners are out of work. Three dollars a week is a high aver: age among mechanics, and t the 80,000 women employed in the Manchester cotton mills make less than half that. In Germany, the women in the cott on factories earn from twenty to twenty-five cents a day and the men average fifty. In Naples, Italy, the average wages for hands are $3.50 per week taking the whole mills through; but the women tret eighteen cents a day and the unskilled men about double that. The most expert operative in a Venice silk factory that I visited was a woman who had worked there forty years. Bhe averaged 12 cents a day, while hundreds of young girls around her earned but six.” “If we paid such wages over here I suppose we could do without a tariff?” I suggested. “We certainly could,” answered Mr. Frye, "and if the tariff tinkers succeed we will have to come down to the European wage-level or else cease uom - peting and depend entirely on foreign-, era for trade. We can not appreciate the difference between the working classes here and abroad because not enough of our people have the time to investigate as I did. My trip wai the greatest investment of time and money that I ever made. I saw industrial Europe with my own eyes, and I saw the terrible place in life the foreign wage-earner holds. He is utterly without hope for the future, and would be thankful for the assurance that he wiil be able to keep poverty from his door in the years to come. The idea of getting ahead of the world, of ever getting together enough money out of his earnings to live decently and -comforta bly, never enters his head, except as a dream.”

THE GREAT “REFORMER'S” SWING.

Mr. Seckendorf, the New York Tribune correspondent who went through the country with the President’s party, has this to say of the claim that Mr. Cleveland paid all his bills: “I notice that mugwump laureates continue to hug themselves at the thought that the President paid all the expenses of his recent trip. ‘The first President that paid his way,’ is their chant, and they ask a gullible public to believe it. Poor things, if they but knew the truth; as a matter of fact, beyond paying for what he ate and drank while actually traveling. Mr. Cleveland did not lay, out money for anything. Tne interstate-commerce law to the contrary notwithstanding, he traveled, together with his party, on free passes Let Colonel Lamont deny this, if lie can? Mr. BandwiD, of the Pullman service, was intrusted with a few checks of S3OO each, signed by Mr. Cleveland, out of the proceeds of which he purchased the supplies of the party. The bill for the Pullman coaches has not been presented yet, and probably never will be: In the cities he visited the President was treated as a guest of the municipality, or as the gdfest of a few public spirited citizens who went down in their pockets and footed the hotel bills. ___ “Altogether, I doubt if the President spent more than a thousand dollars while ‘getting acquainted’ with the country. The whole matter would not be worth a passing mention even, were itjnot for the ‘reform’ sentiment which mugwumpocratio admirers of Mr. Cleveland are trying to smuggle into the question. Iti is after all a question of tweedle dum and tweedle dte only. Why should the President his hotel bills to be paid by others and ob ject, in public at least, to accept the Hospitality of railroads, and then to be told with much unction at the ‘White House that the President tried to travel ‘as nearly like a private citizen as the circumstances would permit?’ Private zitizen —fiddlesticks! The whole thing is a faros-”

Her Birthday Present.

Boston Herald. A conjugal conversation overheard in street car; “What are you going to give me on the 15th, dearest? You know that is my birthday.” “It is a day I never forget, darling. I shall give you $100.” “Oh, how lovely! I’m going to buy that exquisite wrap.” “Excuseme, to pay th« rent.” Salks.

KEEPING CELERY.

A Summarized Plan Furnished by an Experienced Farmer. Ohio Farmer. J His first move before * making, th© trench forth© plants to plo w the soil in lands three or four yards wide, leaving a dead furrow in the center. “We plow,” he says, “at least three times, sticking the plow in the second or third time almost up to the beam. This repeated plowing leaws a mass of fine, loose, mellow soil on each .side of the trench, At the bottom of this dead furrow dig out a trench a foot or fifteen inches wide, and set in the celery plants ag ih the former case,. We draw the celery plants on stone-boats to the trenches. And in taking them up we leave considerable soil adhering to the roots. Do not bruise the celery, and if any of the leases are touched with frost cut off the parts affected. It is much easier to keep out decay than to stop it after it hasstarteu. With an abundance of loose,fine earth all around the trench, nothing is easier than to place the plants nicely and properly in the trench with a little earth between. In fact, it will be easier to put in the earth than to keep itout, asit is necessary to draw the earth plowed ont back to the trench, and more or less of it will get in between the plants. This is just what you want, but you must avoid letting the earth get between the stalks of the plants, as it is much trouble to wash it when preparing the celery for the table. Cover the trench with boards as before mentioned. Cover the boards a foot thick with straw, and throw earth upon it from the sides of tbe trench. We ' do not usually finish the work at once. If the weather is warm there may be danger of the celery heating in the trench- This must be specially guarded against. This is why we like to have earth between the plants. Instead of throwing on all the earth on the top and sides of the trench at once, we prefer to wait until aboat the Ist of December, or jußt before very severe frost sets in. The plants are sufficiently protected to keep out rain, and to prevent injury from one night’s frost, however sudden and severe it may be. Then the soil on each side of the trench is so loose and porous that we can plow it or spade it easily, while unbroken soil is frozen solid. At this final covering up for the winter, put on another layer of straw and cover it up thoroughly witjt earth, and that is all there is to do. It will form a ridge high enough to shed rain, and of course you will see that there is no danger of water soaking into the celery trench from th 9 surface. When celery is kept in this way tn a trench, Bpaded out of firm, unplowed earth, it will be necessary to take a little more pains to keep out fro St. The danger is not so much from the top as from the sides of the treach, where- the earth is unbroken. A covering, of leaves, or pine needles, or chaff, or

straw, for a yard or more on each side of the trench, and a foot thick, wilF make you entirely safe. It will be well te cover with fine earth.' “Celery will keep just as well in a cool cellar as in a trench, provided that it is treated precisely as though it was in a trench. The roots must be in contact with moist earth, and there must be earth enough around the plants to prevent too much evaporation. Draw a cart-load or more of fine, clean, sandy soil into the cellar. Place a board, a foot or more wide, edgewise on the cellar floor, parallel to the cellar wall, and from eighteen inches to two feet from it. Make it firm in any way most convenient. In this box or trench set up the celery. Pack the earth around the roots and between the plants—the higher up the better. If you have only a few heads to keep in the cellar at a time, they may be set in a box, eighteen inches or two feet deep, treated precisely in the same way as above. If the soil at the bottom of the box gets dry, it must be watered. A good plan would! be to set the box in water an inch’or two deep, but this not always convenient. Another plan is t-& make a hole down through the celery inside the box, say at the comer, and pour a few quarts of water, or until the soil around the roots is saturated. Celery that is partially blanched will keep together longer than if already blanched sufficiently for the table. Good, Bound, vigorous plants, that are growing when taken up, will blanch to some extent in the cellar or trench. But for this to take place it is necessary for the roots to have moist soil around them.”

Where the Duck All Went To.

A Norwich, Conn., man who had stocked his pond with a rare and handsome breed of ducks, found that they were slowly disappearing, but where they went he could not determine. One day a visitor, sitting on the piazza, said: “You’ve got queer ducks. I’ve seen two of them dive, but thfey haven’t come up yet.” This was a suggestion to be acted upon. The owner drew off the water from the pond and found seventeensnapping turtles. He killed them, and now the ducks do not disappear, or at least when they dive they come up again. - - ———^ —

She Was Particular.

Philadelphia Times. _ . Mr. Biggs—Will you take Baddle rock oysters, Mns Maud? Miss Maud (sweetly)—Don, t you think side saddle rock oysters more suitable for a lady, Mr. Biggs?