Rensselaer Republican, Volume 23, Number 52, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 27 August 1891 — Page 2

j “V' u«u* Sha d>t«a not smil« (rom canrna rnn Transfigured by some master old, Nor heW in niche, or alcove stand. Revealed in atone or precious gold- I She haa no ahrine where ta|>ers burn, And in her name no prayer ascend No weary pilgrims come from far Before her altar-fires to bend. And yet of all the blessed names That vehumed pare or hath told. That liv* ta K»plwe?s -matchless art. Or sculptured marble, cold, UioMitiv unanointed ejviut The noblest, dearest, of them nil. About her pat h a radiance glows— From oot her hands rich blessings fall; The poor and lowly kiss her feet. The hungry cluster raia»a > " door. The *cnCKen ana the desolate their griefs and mourn nd more. And somewhere in that deathless land, For which our weary spirits faint, Beside the King—l know that I Shall find—anointed, crowned. My Saint! * ... TIRf.EH Uh»«c l >. .

Unfortunate Invesment.

"Elsie!” - Walter Hartman's tone of sorrowful amazement made his young wife spring hastily to her feet,. She had not heard him come in, and was kneeling beside a great arm-chair, sobbing as if her heart would break. "Oh, Walter!" she said, “Aunt Julia '’ and a fresh burst of sobs interrupted her. _ Waiter's face cleared. It was not sorrow ©f her own. tlien, that, overwhelmed this pretty, blue-eyed darling he had married six months before. “Well, Elsie,” he said, taking her in his arms and caressing her, “what about Aunt Julia? Do not sob so, dear; you will make yourself ill.” “The fire!” said Elsie, keeping her sobs somewhat*under control. “You know I was very much worried when I heard of it, for I could not tell by the papers whether Aunt Julia’s house was in the burnt district or not.” For the great Chicago fire was not a week old, and the whole country watched tor news. “Well, dear,” Baid Walter, kindly. “It is a 3 bad as it can be Walter; Aunt Julia writes to me that her house was totally destroyed, her very clothing burned up, and her insurance papers not entirely made out. She is absolutely without anything in the world except the clothes she had on. Actually fed hvcharity. Oh, Walter!” Here the sobs came again thick and fast,, and Walter could offt ! r no comfort but such as was conveyed by-si-lent caresses. After a time these were so far effectual that Elsie could speak more calmly. “Now,‘little one." Walter said, “tell me why this troubles you so sorely? Do you love your aitut so very dearly?” ' I “She had been everything a mother could be to me since my parents died, j Walter. But while I was with her we : were very poor. Out of her own ! scanty means she fed,clothed and edu- ! rated me until I took the situation of nursery governess to your aunt's children, and married yen. But just before we were married, an old friend of Aunt Julia’s died in Chicago, and left her ten thousand dollars. When she went to claim her legacy, she saw the house she purchased, and liked it so j much she bought it, ber legacy cover- ! ing the expense of house, lot and furniture, while her own little income would support her. But, unfortunately, she was persuaded to draw out; her tiny fortune and invest it in two lots adjoining her house. Now everything is swept away.” —— “She took care of you when you were a child?” “For seventeen years, Walter, deny-1 ing herself to feed and clothe me.” Walter did not speak again for many minutes, holding Elsie close in his arms. At las the said, very gravely: „ “If. 4 were *n rich man, Elsie, I not stop to think in a case like tins, but say atonce‘Bring your aunt here.* But you knnny lit tii>--gcife r liay,, salary. though sufSoient for all our wants, with a margin ‘for pleasnra-a.nA saving a nest-egg, is not yet large. If I invite yoUraunt here, the difference of expense must fall most heavily because I cannot, give you many pleasures you enjoy if I have one more to support. Concerts and jewelry, little gifts and pleasures, will be beyond our means then. But if you will be happier knowingyour aunt has a home. I will go myself to Chicago and bring her hero." “Oh, Walter, how kind, how generous you art 1 ! I will never he able to thank you.” “Then lam to go. All right. I will set a leave of absence tomorrow. In the meantime I will telegraph your aunt to meet me at the depot, if she has sent any address." “The address is the lawyers’ who arranged her legacy for her, and who did not live in the burnt district, Morse <fc Hunter.” A few days later, as fast as steam would carry Walter to Chicago and hack, Elsie was waiting to welcome the travelers. A telegram had informed her that Walter had found Julia waiting at the depot and by xvhat train to expihet him home. The only spare room in the pretty little house at Harlem, where Walter had brought his bride, was iu dainty order. Jennie, the servant, was cooking the choicest supper Elsie could devise, and the little wife herself, neatly dressed,.was running to thedoorevery minute watching for the carnage. It came at last, and Walter handed out a lady. Poor Elsie felt fairly sick, as the euest tottered, rather than walked, into the room. She was white as ashes, her hair, Elsie remembered black as a coal not one year before, streaked with gray, and her eyes sunken as if with long illness. When the water-proof cloak fell from her shoulders, her shabby dress was most unlike Aunt Julia’s habitual neatness. Bpt, the first shock of surprise over, Elsie

had no woYds too loving to welcome her aunt, while soft, tender kisses fell fast upon the pale face. “She is very tired, Elsie,” Walter whispered, seeing how vainly the white lips tried to frame words. “Get her to rest, dear, as soon as you cam” ,- So FJsie, tearfully loving, made her aunt lie upon the lounge, and brought her the most tempting of fry »fcraya, stopping the broken words or tnanks by Kisses and caresses. Walter, too, by a hundred delicate attentions and few spoken words made the guest feel that she was most cordially and gladly welcome. In her own room Aunt Julia told EUmo Sonin ljlng of the horrors that had aged her more in one fortnight thin in any previous two years of her life. She had slept upon the ground in a drenching rain for twonights.theu in a tent with no change of clothing, anu the memory of the fire terrors to haunt her. She had begged the paper and stamp to write to Elsie. Then she told of Walter's tender care for her in the long journey, when she, racked by pain, often could not speak for houre, how like a son he had cared tor her comfort. It was a sad story, and Elsie’s tears fell fast. "But n«sw,” she said, ‘‘you are at home. I have put underclothes and loose wrappers in here, Auntie, until we can have some dresses fitted. Let me undress you now." Gently and tenderly the shabby clothes was removed, the weary feet bathed, thegray streaked hairsmoothed. and snoWy linen put on for the night. Then, utterly tired, Aunt Julia sank in the bed, whimpering: “Think, Elsie, J have not been in a bed for twelve nights!” I But alas, she was not soon to leave it. The haven of rest once gained. - Aunt Julia lay for many long weeks dangerously, ill with rheumatic fever brought ou by exposure, while,the tortured brain, in wildest delirium, raved of scenes that chilled Elsie with horror. —All -through those weary weeks Elsie was nurse, while Walter supplied every delicacy that could be found to tempt the invalid, patiently endured the discomforts of a house haunted by sickness, and proved himself, Jennie declared, “the nearest to an angel of any man ever she seed.” Winter was nearly over before Aunt Julia was able to leave her bed. crippled for life. The rheumatism had so twisted the joints of her hands, legs and feet, that they were useless and most of the tune intensely painful. She fretted over the prospect of being a burden upon Walter and Elsie, with all thedespair of a proud woman who had always maintained her own independence, and tearfully begged t o i be sent to some charitable asylum, I where she would be only a public exj pense. Elsie told Walter of this | wish, and he went to Aunt Julia’s ! room. | Taking the crippled, helpless hands in his own, holding them very tenderly, i he said: j , “Aunt Julia, Elsie has told me how | hard these little hands worked for her : for seventeen long years. 1 love Elsie I so dearly that to grieve her is my j greatest sorrow. Do you think I could j bear to see her pained if her second i mother was*sick and alone, nursed by j hired hands while we are able and I willing to give her love and care? Do l not speak again of leaving us. Iha ve not seen Elsie’s face so sad as it is tonight since you came to us.” “But. Walter, I may live foryears.” “I sincerely hope you will.” “And I can never have any use of my hands and feet more than I have now. l ean scarcely feed myself or hobble across the room.”. The more reason you should have loving care. Why,” and Walter laughed while his honest brown eyes proved his sincerity, “do you think all the love here is Elsie’s. I want my share too, auntie, for 1 love you as l do my life. I ask you tostay beeatise I want youTiere. I have not heard ■ E!sie sigh over long, long days since ; you came.” I It took many more loving arguments ; hut at last Aunt Julia yielded. It was ; biljt trnthj liar Walter spoke whcii-.he said she had won his love as well as Elsie’s. She was very patient under excruciating suffering, and very grateful for all the loving care lavished j upon her. When the pain subsided i and she could talk, she was charming company, well read and full of pleasant--- memories - and bright observation. While she felt herself a burden. , Walter and Elsie regarded her as a, blessing. Walter no longer worried at , leaving Elsie alone all day. while he | was at Ins business, and Elsie never j tired of Aunt Julia, whose experience ; proved very valuably to the little j housekeeper. j But month after month there was ! a scarcely perceptible failing of : strength in the sorely tired body,long j past youthful vigor. The rheumatic ! fever had left heart trouble, and disi trussing spells of suffocat ion and palpitation often threatened the invalid’s life. Always patient, she yet. often prayed for death to end her suffering, j while Elsie prayed only that the dear 1 life might be spared, i She had been Walter Hartman's | guest for two years,when her weakness increased to an alarming extent, rapidly and certainly, till she could not leave her bed. It was while she was herself conscious that the end of her suffering was approaching that she received a letter from her lawyer in Chicago informing her that he had received an offer of twenty thousand dollars for ttye lots of land she owned in that city. 1 She had looked uoon her own beggary as so absolutely certain that at first she could scarcely credit the news; bti t Wal t er, in whose hands she pi need the business, soon proved the offer no dream by accepting the terms and informing Aunt Julia the money lay in tho bank in her name. "Now, you can ride in your carriage when you are well,” Elsie said, smiling but tearful. “I am so glad auntie. You will have something now for your old age.” “But no old, age, Elsie,” was the glad reply. “I am glad, too, darling, very glad, but not for that." •. By her own request a lawyer came and Wrota her will, and then Aunt

Julia, as if the cares of life was ended for her, sank rapidly, growing every day weaker and more dependent upon Elsie's loving, never-failing care. It was in early spring, when, one evening, as Walter came in. Jennie met “him, her honest face all disfigured by crying. “Sure. sir, it's asking for you, Miss Julia is.” •‘ls she worse?” •‘Ah, sir, she’s going fast. Th( doctor says she’ll not last the night.” Going fast. Walter could see the -girl’s words Were true when he sofrly entered the room where Aunt Julia rested, her head upon Elsie’s shoulder, her hands clasped fast i:i Elsie’s. “I am glad you came,’’ she whispered. “I think I could not go without thanking you once more and saying farewell.” “What I have done,” Walter said, his heart swelling with emotion, “was gladly, lovingly done. I do not need thanks, Aunt Julia.” “I believe that, but I am not less grateful, because you gave from a full heart, May God bless you andyours. May what you have done for a “poor penniless woman come back to you in your old age laden with her blessing. Kiss me farewell, Walter.” Reverently he bent o’er her, pressing a loving kiss upon the. withered lips, while tears that were no shone to his manhood stood in his eyes. Arfew broken wnrrbrrir j'Hsie; a niurmnred pfayer.an«l the c-nntiespMlAvto-released from the weary, pain-racked frame. Tears of true love fell upon the wasted face, placid in death's sleep. Every kind word was cherish<*d when the lips that had spoken it were mute, and Aunt Julia had two true mourners at her funeral, whin frieiKlsof- years gone-dry came to pav the lastJaabutc-oi respect to her memory. It: did not surprise Elsie when she learned that her Aunt Julia had left her the fortune tnat had come too late to gladden her own life. But she told Waiter, when the will was read to her. “I am glad we never thought of the land, Walter, in t lie years that. Aunt Julia was with us. It would have made me hesitate often to show her all the love in my heart, if I had ever thought she would have money to leave me.” “She knew, darling, it was all lover yet I am glad my Elsie has some reward for the patient, tender care that alleviated the suffering of the poor invalid who rests at last.” And Elsie, nestling close in Walter’s arms, said softly. “If I could love you more, Walter, than I did when I married you, I should do so when I think of yoiir kindness and generosity to Aunt Julia.” , “It was odd,” Walter said, “that the money that Aunt Julia .invested in Chicago should be actually doubled, for I have seen her Weep often when she spoke ot her “unfortunate investment” of her friend’s legacy.

“Ditto.”

There were three or four unoccupied seats in the car, hut 1m stood for a moment, grip in hand* near the door, nnd then walked to a seat in which a young lady, sat alone and sat down beside her with an impudence that astounded all the other passengers. The girl looked up at him and around theear.andeyidently realized the situation, for she took pencil and tablet from her reticule and made ready for him. After about five minutes the man turned to her ami observed: “Beg pardon ii I am mistaken, but don’t you live at Utica?” She looked up in a furtive way, and then wrote ou the tablet and handed him: . t « “I am deaf nnd dumb.” “Ah, by George!” he sighed, as lie read it: “that’s too, too laid. Deuced pretty girl to have swell a mis'ortune. Well, I’m left, offer all my smartness. Saw her at the window before I got on, and carried out the plan to a dot. Deaf and dumb, eh? First-oso -I over struck. lie nodded his head to her to signify tnat he understood, and lie would have been glad to change seats if lie could have done so without toss o! dignity. As the train thundered on he perused the contents of a couple of newspapers, yawned awhile, and then bought and finished a. novel; and finally, after a ride of four mortal hours,’ tlm Whistle Llew, and he readied for his grip with theremark: * “I’ll be hanged if I ain’t glad tins stupid ride has come to an end at last!” “Ditto,” quietly replied the girl aai she turned on him. 6 “You—you—!" he gasped, ns lie stood there looking down upon her witli twelve kinds of emotion galloping over his countenance. “Good-bve,” she said, and he backed out and dropped to the'platform like a man retreating from a mule’s hind legs.—N. Y. Sun/

A Tale of 1790.

Chicago American. About 1790 two gentlemen, I), nnd L., stood candidates lor a seat in the Legislature of New York. They were violently opposed to eacli other. By some artifice D. gained the election. When he was returning home, much elated with success, he met a gentleman | sic Win acquaintance of his- " Well,” soys D, “I have got the election. L. was no match for me. I’ll tell yon how I flung him. If there happened any Dutch voters, I could talk Dutch with them, and there 1 had the advantage of him. If there were any Frenchmen, I could talk French, and there I had the ndvantnge of him. But, as to L., he was a clever, honest, sensible little fellow.” "Yes. sir,” replied the gentleman, “and there he had the advantage of you.

FARMS AND FARMERS.

Chicago Inter-Oeeaa. CAPILLARY ATTRACTION, We spoke in a recent article on the' great value of growing crops of a frequent stirring: of the surface soil, but did not gtreo dear and sufficient explanation of the manner in which the moisture escapes from the earth. It always helps us greatly in out efforts to carry out a system if we can see clearly the working of the law that governs the facts. In farming we are dealing constantly with the stubborn facts of nature. All there is of science is a study and understanding of the law that governs facts. The moisture that we would be so glad to have retained about the roots of our apple trees,, our corn, potatoes, or other crops, escapes into the air through little holes in the soil, which are called capillaries. The rising of this moisture is through capillary attraction. Where the soil is undisturbed these capillaries are readily formed* and create minute canals for the passage of moisture. A clear illustration of the power of this Capillary attraction can be seen in the common incident of a wet towel hanging over the side of a dish of water. The fluid will rise up through the interstices of the cloth and drip out at the end of the towel. and soon drain the dish of its water. Take, for example,, .a brick, and set the lower end in water. Soon the top of the brick will be moist. The oil rises in the wick of a lamp by the same law of capillary attraction. The soil is full of these little capillary tubes. When frequently stirred the tubes’ are broken off below the surface, and the moisture as it rises is,caught and distributed to the roots ofth'- plant."

5 DAIRYMEN SHOULD GROW PEAS. A New York farmer who handles a large herd of cows writes that he has spent from SSOO to S6OO a year for several years past in the-purchase of bran and other grain feed for his cows. Being a reader of Hoard’s Cairy man he was greatly interested when that paper took up the question of growing field peas as a substitute for bran. This the paper did two years ago, but did the same work more energetically last winter. He had always accepted the notion whieh prevailed among the farmers of his neighborhood that peas could not be successfully grown. The Dairyman took the ground that this notion was a mistake; that the difficulty with the average farmer was that he did not understand how to grow peas. In the field the pea roots deeply: yet almost every farmer pays no attention! to this law or principal and sows the peas broadcast, with oats maybe, and harrows them in, rarely covering them more than a quarter to a half inch deep. The Dairyman farther advised the solving of peas more than ever, but insisted that the seed must be covered at least two to four inches deep. This can be done with a deep running graindrill when the soil is in good, tilth, but where the farmer has no drill he can do the work just as well by plowing the seed under not to exceed the depth of four inches. The New York farmer says he tried the latter plan. His neighbors all ridiculed him for trying some book-farm-ing notion, but the peas are looking the finest ever seen in that section. It will prove a great bicsssing to dairy farmers if they ever get in the way of growing an abundanceof peas for the use of their cows. Two pounds of pea meal is considered nearly the equivalent of six pounds of ordinary bran. A good crop will produce 2,600 pounds of pea meal to the acre. Father comment is unnecessary. SWINE. Mr. John M. Jameson, of RoxabeJlT Ohio, who is an experienced swine handler and breeder, in touching up some of the ideas that are prevalent about hogs, speaks of the passion- for so many indulge in and says: We can hardly tell how it came about that so many farmers think their hogs can be improved by crossing. Tfie fact of the matter is too many of the hogs iti the country are crossed to death, This rule can be safely followed when a cross is desirable;. Always use a pure-bred male and one of a breed having a longer line of pure-bred ancestors than the sows on which the male is to boused. Then select the male of a type desired for Ihe offspring and in most cases the result will be satisfactory. Crossing a good breed with one of colder blo'od will hardly be satisfactory. We have seen men cross from one breed to another until their animals were a confused mass of type and purpose and practically worthless. Every pronounced breed has certain fixed characteristics,and often crossing brings these opposing characteristics into a warfare with each other. It is better, as a rule, to keep breeding in the line of one breed, striving to get superior progeny by careful selection of the parents. - . v E. A. Bigelow, of Minnesota, in the American Swineherd, gives the following bit of experience in handling farrow sows: 1 bred seventeen sows last fall and winter, all of which were in good healthy condition; fed the sows all winter twice a day, gave them two ears of corn each, and in the morning gave them all the warm slop they would drink. My growing pigs were fed a slop made of three-quarters oat and one quarter com, ground, with | a little oil meal and a pinch of salt. I After I had dipped all of this out of Ike barrel that I could with the swil dipper, I added fi-vo pails of warm water and fed to the brood sows.

Result: Five farrowed in March, 8 in April, and 4 in May; total number of pigs, 115; lived to be 3 days old, 104* alive up to date, 97. Have had a larger average sorrowed and raised, [ but never had so even a farrow, no littSr less than five nor more than eight. • Nevernad so even a lot of pigs as to color and make-up: had forty farrowed before a swirl appeared; am feeding the pigs now one ear of corn each and slop made of two-thirds shorts, one-third oats ground, and a little oil meal, and they nave the run of good pastures, are doing well, and are happy. Our early spring was very bad for pigs, it being damp and cloudy. As far as my observation goes I don’t think that over 10 per cent of the March pigs were saved in this part of the country. HOG CHOLERA. Dr. Salmon, ot the Bureau of Animal Industry, has the following to say on the two diseases, hog cholera and swine plague: t There are two diseases, one of which we have called swine plague and the other hog cholera, but which are not discriminated between by the public at large and which are consequently referred to as hog cholera or swine plague without any idea as to whieh disease is under consideration. A hog that is inoculated for swine plague is not in the least protected against hog cholera or vice versa. The inoculation that has been practiced in the West has been with the virus of hog cholera, and as used by the parties who have introduced this practice it produces little if any immunity from the disease.

AN IMPORTANT DISCOVERY TO GRAPE GROWERS. One of the most destructive pests in the vineyard is the rose bug, or, as it is called by some, rose chafer. Heretofore it has defied all, at tempts at destruction through every known insecticide not harmful to the foliage. The editor of the Rural New Yorker has made the important discovery that water heated to 122 degrees, entirely harmless to the plant, will destroy them. His detailed account is as follows: On Junp 15, during the hottest part of the day, when the mercury stood at 95 degrees in the shade, the writer noted that the rose bugs on grapevines and rose bushes sought shelter. Comparatively few were to be foufld upon the flowers, and those were sheltered from the sun. Acting upon this, a number of the beetles (twenty-five perhaps) were caught and placed in a white paper box. The cover was placed loosely upon it so as to admit air. and tho box was exposed to the sun. An hour or so afterward the beetles were dead—every one. A thermometer placed in tho box showed the temperature to be a 110 degrees. Our next step was to gather beetles from the shady quarters and drop them upon the soil which was exposed to the direct rays of the sun. To our surprise they were apparently dead in thirty seconds! A tin thermometer placed on the soil showed a temperature of 129 degrees. Some of these were theu carefully placed in an ice-box to sec if they would reeover, but they were quite dead. - Twenty or more beetles were then placed in the white pasteboard box, and a tablespoonful of water ..of the temperature of 129 degrees was poured into the box and .immediately poured out. The beetles were instantly killed. Water at the temperature 122 degrees was then tried. Most of..them were dead in half a minute. The rest died in ten minutes. Water at 119 degrees was .then tried. The beeteis were not seriously harmed and-Soan recovered.,, j Thus far, it would appear, water at a temperature of over 122 degrees is a sure and speedy death to the rose-chafer. The next step was to ascertain if this method of destruction could be put to an easy practical use. Water was heated to 170 degrees and poured into a pail. A small 1 hand force-pump with eight feet of hose aud a half-inch iron tube of five feet (thirteen feet iu all), terminating with a cyclone nozzle, was then used to force the water upon the rosechafers of magnolia flowers (Magnolia macrophylla), in one of which there was not less than 150. The rose-bugs receiving the direct spray were dead in about one minute. The others recovered. The temperature of the water was then raised so that the mercury rose to 140 degrees , when the thermometer was placed 'in t,wo4mflies_ of the nozzle. This was sprayed into a partly open magnolia flower containing fifty or more beetles. All were instantly killed. Neither foliage or flowers were injured. It appears, therefore, that i this terrible pest, which can neither be killed nor repelled by any of the insecticides which may be used in a practicable way, cannot endure a heat of 125 degrees, and that may, therefore, be exterminated by the simple, cheap remedy of water of that temperature sprayed upon it. LATER. Temperature of the air, 85 degrees. Water in the pail, 170 degrees. Forced through thirteen feet of hose, the temperature six inches from nozzle is 128 to 130 degrees. Temperature of the air, 60 degrees. Temperature of water in the pail, 188 degrees. At six inches the spray was 122 degrees; at one foot, 100 degrees. It should be stated that the cyclone nozzle is not suited for spraying hot water, in that it divides the water os soon as it leaves the nozzle into an unnecessarily fine spray—a vapor, In sact —that it gives up its heat so soon that the rose-bugs must receive the spray not over twelve

inches .from..the nozzle, or the he® will not be high enough to kill them It is plain that a coarser, more con. centrated, or less vapory spraj would be far more effective at a greater distance. For grape-vines or other low growing plants a shortei hose would obviously be more es fective. It was found that water of 130 deSecs temperature would not kill poto beetles or their lav®, or cherry aphid®. A temperature of 150 degrees was found to kill both the beetle and the grub. It was not tried upon the cherry aphis. SHEEP ITEMS. At one of the New York Farmers' Institutes questions were asked concerning the management of sheep and answers given by native sheen reisers as follows: ‘‘ls there any remedy for scab on sheep? How does it affect them? What is the remedy?” Mr. Van Alstyne—Yes; crude petroleum rubbed on the parts affected after the wool had been taken off, sc that a thorough application can be made. It appears in the form of a red spot, and causes the sheep to rub and scratch, and is fatal if left unattended to. It is also contagious, and all places where such sheep have - been should be disinfected. “What makes the best cross, a coarse wool ram and a line.wool ewe, or the reverse?” Mr. Van Alstyne—l prefer the ’ former cross. The sire gives the form and general make-up, making a desirable lamb, such as buyers seek. “Can any one give a formula for preparing cow’s milk so that it will be adapted to young lambs?” Mr. Van Alstyne—Add a little melted sugar or molasses. Jt thick-' ens the milk and makes it more like that of the mother sheep. “What is a good Remedy against lice on cattle?’ Mr. Rutherford—Lawford’s Thermo Cresol. It is an effectual remedy for sheep ticks, and is fully as good for cattle afflicted with lice. Another farmer recommended 3 ounces of carbolic acid and 1 quart of soft soap dissolved in 1 gallon of water. Other remedies were recommended. Mr. Dawley—l use Scotch snuff which costs 45 cents per bladder applied on the back of the head and along the spine. Two applications cured my yearlings of lice. Mr. Powell said common dry earth Sprinkled over the cattle is a perfect remedy. HORSE TALK. We are asked to roccomend a ration for horses independant of the nutritive ratio of the German feeding experiments, but tested by practical experience. Nearly equal parts of corn,rye andoats ground together make the best horse feed, judged by experience. Of this ten pounds.mixed with fourteen pounds of cut hay, the mixture wet and stirred in a box or trough, aud fed at three feeds, is the best ratio known for a farm horse in use, in quantity adapted to age and size. A horse at rest wants six pounds of the ground ration or “chop” and fourteen pounds of cut hay, or even oat straw if hay is not on "hand. The standard weight per bushel of corn and rye is the same, viz., 56 pounds, oats 32 pounds. Ol the albuminoids oats contain 129, rve 110, corn 100 pounds per 1,000. The average of the' mixture of equal "weights of each-is 110 per 1,000, or exactly that of rye. So no object tq rye on account of ergotrbufrobservation has convinced the writer that rye in this country is much less subject to it than has been supposed. — Dr. Ellzey. FOOD EOR' SUCKLING COLTS. Please give ration to feed -eoltvin' -addltion-to theirmothor’s -mdk-. They arc at present ou a good pasture of clover and orchard grass. All feeds are available except skim-milk. 1 1 should like the best ration you gtWv oa I-rdo not object to. a small extra cost —II. K., Coolwelll, Va. Prof. Stewart replies as follows in Country Gentleman: H. K. must teach his colts to eat aiuch food as will assist in growing the bone,. .muscle, and frarne, and this is easily done when one has sweet milk in which to mix the extra food. Bran is one of the best foods to grow good muscle and sound, springy bone. If K. had stated the age of his colts it would have assisted in determining the best additional food. He may induce his colts to eat a little bran with a few oats mixed in cwhich is easily done if the colts are 2or 3 months old. He will also findoi little flaxseed jelly, made by boiling fiaxseed fifteeit or tweaty minutes iu eight times it's bulk of water to assist materially in the growth of the colts. When the colt learns to eat flaxseed jelly he usually becomes fond of it. He might begin by taking a handful of bran and a handful of oats, and mixing two tablespoonfuls of the flaxseed jelly with it, and getting the colts to eat this once per day at first, and then after a week or ten days giving this amount twice a day. Perhaps it would be as well to teach the colts first to take the bran and oats, then adding the jelly. If this plan is skillfully carried out, increasing the food as the colts increase in size, K. will be much pleased with the even and rapid growth of his colts. The flaxseed jelly should pot be omitted, as it will aid materially in keeping the digestive organs in a healthy, condition and in giving a fine development to the whole form. It was so intensely hot at San Miguel, Cal., the other day that some chemical in the principal drug store exploded from the hign temperature aud set fire to the building.