Rensselaer Republican, Volume 24, Number 6, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 8 October 1891 — Page 2

UNCLE RUBEN'S LOST LOVE.

Hartford Couraat My Uncle Ruben Van Note fell in love with Priscilla Jan the very first time, and as he was not the kind of a man to waste much time in courting, he chose this way of proposing: Priscilla wore a gown of muslin, and at the belt hung two scarlet pockets, as was the custom in those days. Ruben having penned a declaration one afternoon, he took the opportunity (for he was a timid man) of slipping the note into one of these trim little pockets when she was not looking. Then he took his leave and waited anxiously but very patiently for an answer. But none ever came. Poor Ruben was not one to risk his fate a second time, and he ceased his visits to the home c*f the Jans. After a while he went away to England and Newport knew him no more. He tssswne ratherCelebfsEod as a scientific man. The bashfulness of youth gone by, he became a grave,* gallant S tiemen of the old school, and he his admirers even among our sex, but he never fell in love and he never married. At sixty-five years of age ho took it into his headtp see Newport before he died. In those years it had become a fashionable watering place. There were one or two great hotels and pleuty of cottages. The sea view was as fine, air as bracing, the girls as pretty as of yore, but they did not wear painted’ muslin with poppies on them, nor outside Dockets of handsomely embroidered silk. Ruben Van Note strolled along the beach and looked at the old tower and sighed over the past a little. Then lie strolled the street to the house of the Jan family. It looked very much as form erly, on Iyth o trees were larger and the ivy vine quite covered the brick stable with the pigeon..houses on the roof. All its windows were open and a woman was dusting the shutters. When she came out upon the porch to shake a cloth ho spoke to her. “Does any of the Jan family live here yet?” he asked. The woman gave a long shako of her head and said: “The last of the Jan family died three days ago —Miss Priscilla Jan. I was her maid. She was getting on in life-sixty years a delicate body always; but I think she would have lived a long time yet if she hadn’t had an accident. Her carriage was upset by a tipsy coachman and she was hurt and shaken; The shock to her nerves killed her, the doctor said. That's her miniature when she was a girl, over the -inantel, if you’d step in and look.” Ruben stepped in and saw Priscilla, in white and red. smiling at him from the chimney piece. It was a good likeness. Could she really bo dead? lie staggered ba k and seated himself on the sofa. “And she never married?” he said, speaking aloud unconsciously.

“No, sir," said the maid, believing herself addressed. “She never married. Such a pretty girl, you'd hot believe it. She had offers* but they did not suit her. Once she told me, sitting just there, sir, where you sit, the Christmas after her parents died, why they did not. She was fond of a young gentleman once, but he camo and went and never said a word, and. as she believed, never eared for her. She cried and cried of n V-*ts, hut told no one. and she lired single until she was forty. Then one day, when she was up in the garret, she found a pair of red silk pockets in an old box. She had missed the pockets. They used to wear 'em outside, sir, which seems funny now. She had missed them, and never guessed where they’d gone, but somehow they'd been dropped into the bgx that was carried up garret that vbry night. She'd not seen them for twenty years, and she took them out and turned them over, and a tetter fell into her lap. “It was sealed, and it had her name ■on it. and when sheread it she found it was an offer of marriage from this young gentleman. An offer, sir, that she., would have said yes to, and thankful. “She knew then that, being bashful, he had slipped it into her pocket and it had been lost with it. “ T cried at first, Martha,’ she said, ‘but afterward I was glad, for I knew how we had loved each other. 14. was too late to answer it, oven if J had known where, he was; but I hoj»ed sometime he might-come back and know the truth. He never will know now, Martha," she said, “unless we meet in heaven." “And I put the little pockets, with she letter in them, under her head in the coffin, as she bade me. Sort of like a stoiy, isn't it, sir?" “It is very like a story," said my great-uncle. He sat looking at the picture for a while, and the girl went on. The property was left to a charity, all but a legacy to herself, and there was to be an auction next day, and she was ‘Cleaning up for it. And thea she begged him to rest himself as long as he pleased, and went about her work., • - When she had gone Ruben Van Note took the miniature of poor Priscilla Jan from the mantlepiece and put it into his bosom, and walked away. Doubtless the maid wondered long whether that respectable old gentleman could have been the thief, or whether some other had come in at the open door in her absence. 7 , But Priscilla’s pretty face day against Ruben s heart until it ceased to beat; and I have no doubt that if lovers renew their vows in heaven.

these two hearts have met there; these two whom the treacherous buckle of the scarlet pockets parted forever on earth.

A SUGAR SCHOOL;

Will Tarn Ont Expert Sagar Maker or Whom There is Great Need. New Orleans Special to New York Sun. Under the auspices of the State and the Louisiana Agricultural and Scientific Association a sugar school has been established in this city and will go into operation next month, for the purpose of educating all who desire to take a course in the culture of cane and the manufacture of sugar from it. The school, is equipped with agriculture, sugar chemistry, analytical chemistry, sugar mechanics and sugar making respectively. It has a plantation attached with a small sugar house on it, but one thoroughly equipped with the latest and most impreved taining all the books and journals on sugar and everything necessary ffo teach this industry. The course will be one or two years, at the end of which the student will be turned out a thorough sugar maker, a chemist prepared to carry on a sugar plantation in the most scientific .manner. There is and always has been a demand for this class of experts, for the supply is far too small. The pay is very good, for a skilled sugar maker can readily command between S3OO and SI,OOO per month. The planters compete for the better ones, and some of them even receive a percentage on the crop raised, on the theory that this will encourage them to greater efforts, tor how much sugar ten tons of cane will produce and what quality of sugar is made from it depend upon the sugar maker who has eliarge-of- the plaHtatien.— —r. —- The necessity of having a skilled man in charge, of the business is now greater than ever, since the bonus, paid under the McKinley bill is graded on the quality of sugar produced. Much of the-open kettle sugar falls below the 80 per cent, saccharine limit and will under the Taw receive no bonus whatever unless an expert is in charge of its manufacture and turns out a higher grade awcle. A difference of oue per cent, in the amount of saccharine in his sugar may make a difference of $30,000 in bonus to the planter whose place produces 2,000,000 pounds. It is believed that this will cause the sugar makers to be more in demand than ever, and there are not enough to go around now as it is. Moreover, a targe increase in the industry and in the number of sugar houses in operation is expected in the nextrfew years in consequence o" the stimulus given it by the McKinly bill. The sugar industry as now conducted requires experts, men skill not in agriculture alone, like the old-style overseers, but with a thorough knowledge or qnalyitical chemistry and mechanics in the various branches, and who keeps abreast of the times and all the latest discoveries and inventions. The Louisiana Agricultural and Scientific Association, recognizing the- necessity of suefcrexperts, and knowing that they are to be obtained in no other way, as there are no institutions in the United States in which they can get the specific instruction they need, has aided in establishing this sugar school here, believing that the largo pay guranteed to sugar experts will assure a good attendance. The school is of some interest outside of Louisiana, for it promises to be the principal factor in enabling that State to largely increase the production of sugar and supply the demand of the country.

Sherman's Remarkrble Dream.

St. Louis Writers who have busied themselves picking up anecdotes and inincidents of the life of Sherman appear to have whollj’ overlooked the story of his remarkable dream. The. editor of “Notes for the Curious” has had the account in aucrape-book for upward of twenty years. It is as follows: One night the general took refuge i in unold farmhouse and had fallen in to a deep sleep when he was visited ' by a most exciting dream. He fancied that the house in which he slept was surrounded by a band of guerrillas, who had dug a hole beneath the room in which he lay, tilled it with powder and touched it off. The explosion that followed was terrible, and the; general thought ho saw himself fly-1 ing through tue air in sections. The. » shock of this terrible experience?' caused him to jump to the middle of the floor. Hastily dressing, he left the building. He had not gone far into the night when a red glare shot up- from the farm house, followed by a terrific explosion. The building was wrecked, but the dream saved the life of the great general.

Making Trouble for Papa.

Atlanta Constitution. , “Mamma, who is Tunkantel?'’ “I’m sure I don’t know, child. I never heard of such a person." “Does ba love papb?" “I don't know. ' “Does teacher love him?" “Love who?’* “Tunkantel.” . “Whatever are you talking about, my child?" “Weil, I don't care. Anyway I saw papa buggin’ teacher ’on the stairs yesterday, and teacher say she love papa better than Tunkanteff." Senator Sherman has been nearly thirty-eight years in office without interruption. * Egypt’s cotton crop for this yeai is the largest ever known.

THE EGG-STEALER.

Arthur Q. Couch In London Speaker, It wanted less than an hour to high tide when Miss Marty Lear heard her brother’s boat grate on the narrow beach below the garden, and set the knives and glasses Straight while she listened for the rffttle of the garden-gate. A stunted line of hazel ran along the foot of the garden and prevented fcxll view of the landing-place from the kitehen window. But above the hazels one could look across and catch a glimpse, at high tide, of the intervening river, ors toward low water qf the mud banks shinning in the sun. It was Miss Lear’s custom to look much on this landscape, ffromthts window; hail in fact been her custom for qlose upon forty years. And this evening, when the latch elicited at length, and her brother in his .market suit came slouching up the path that broke the parallels of garden stuff, her gaz<; rested all toI gether on the fine of gray water. Nor, when he entered the kitchen I and hitched his hat upon the peg - against the wall —where its brim accurately tltted a sort of dull halo in the whitewash —did he appear to want any welcome from her. He was a long jawed man of sixtv-five, she a long-jawed woman of sixty-one; and they understood each other, having kepi this small and desolate farm together for twenty years— since their father’s death. There was a cold paste ready on the table, and the jug of cider "that Job Lear regularly emptied at supper. These suggested no questions, and the pair sat down to cat in silence. It was only while holding 1 is plate for a second helping of the pasty that Job spoke with a full mouth. “ Who-d^ye-Teekon—-to downlnTroy?” Miss Marty cut the slice without troubling to say that she hud not an idea. “Why, that fellow Amos Trudgel oh,” he went on. ; “Yes?” “’Pears to me you disremetnbegs on —son of old Jane Trudgeon that [ used to live ’cross the water; him I that stoic our eggs long back, when father was livin’.” “I remember.” “I thought you must.- Why, you gave evidence, to be sure.. Bedashed! now I come to mind, if you wasn’t the first to wake us up an’ say you heard a man cryn out, down ’pou the i mud.” ! “Iss, I was." ; “An’ saved his life, though you did get on two months in jail by* it. Up to arm pits, he was, and not„two minutes to live, when we hauled en out an’ found he’d been stealing our eggs. He inquired after you, today. ” “Did he?” T “Iss. ‘How’s Miss Marty,’ says he, ‘Agein’ rapidly,’ says I. The nerve that some folks have! Comes up to me cool as my lord and holds out his hand. I’d a mind to say ‘Eggs’ to en, it so annoyed me; but I hadn't the heart. ’Tis an old tale after all, that feat o’ his-” “Two an’ forty year, come seven teenth o’ July next. Did he say any more?” “Iss —wanted to know if you was married." “Oh, mv dear God!” Job laid down his knife and fork with the edges resting on his plate. aticT wTCfi a Tump of pasty in one cheek, looked at his sister. Before he could speak, she broke out again: “He was my lover.” “Mar —ty ” “I swear to you, Job —here across this table—he was my lover,. an’ I ruined en. He was the only man, ’cept you an’ father, that ever kissed me; .an’ I betrayed en. As the Lord liveth, I stood in the box an’ swore away his name to save mine. An' what's more, he made me.” “Mar ”

“Don’t hinder me, Job—it’s truth I'm tellin’ ee. His people were a low lot, an’ father’d have hided me if he’d I know. But we used to meet in the ; orchard, ’mostevery night. Amos'’d ' row across in his boat, an’ back agen. ■ For the Lord’s sake, brother, don't look so. I'm past sixty, an’ no harm ! done; an’ now evil an' good’s the same to me.” "Go on.” ‘‘Well, the last night he cameovcr 'twas low tide. I was waitin’ for en in the orchard; an' he would have me tell father and you, and I wouldn’. I recken.we quarrelled over it so long, his boat got left high in the mud. Anyways, he left me in wrath an' I stood there by the gate in the dark, longin'for en to come back. But the time went on an’ I didn't hear his oars pullin’ away-—though listenin’ with all my ears. “An’ then I heard a terrible sound, a low sort of breathin' but fierce an 1 something worse, a suck-suckin’ of the mud below; an’ ran down. There he was, above his knees in it, halfway between firm ground and his boat. For all his fightin' he heard me, and whispers out o’ the dark—— “Little girl, it’s got me. Hush! don't shout” “Can ? t you get out? I whispered back. J “No, I’m afraid." “1’1! run an’call father an’ Job.” “Hush! Be you mazed? Do you want to let’em know?" “But it’ll kill you, dear, won’t it?" ‘Likely it will,' said he. Then after a while of battlin’ with it he whispers agen, ‘Little girl, I don’t want to die. Death is a cold end. But I reckon we can manage to save me an’ your name as welL Run up to the ben house an* bring me as many eggs as. you can find.—an’ don't

ax questions. Be quick; I can keep up for a while.’ “I didn’t know what he meant but; run for my life. I could tell pretty well how to find a dozen or more in the dark by gropin’ about, and in, three minutes had ’em gathered in the lap of mj dress an’ run down agqn. I could just spy him —a dark blot out on the mud. “ ‘How many?’ he asked, his voice hoarse as a rock. “ ‘About a dozen.’ “‘Toss’em here. Don’t come too -.near, and shy ’em careful so I can catch ’em. Quick!’ r “1 stepped.down pretty®ear to the brim of the mud an’ tossed 'em out) I to him. Three fell short in my hurry, but the rest he got hold of some- ; how. — “ ‘That’s right. They’ll think egg stealin’ nateral to a low family like I our’n. Now back to your room, un- ! dress an’ cry out, sayin' there’s a j man shoutin’ for help down ’pon the I mud. When you wave your candied twice in the window I’ll shout like a Trojan. ’ “An’ I did it, Job, for the cruelty I in a fearful woman passes knowl- ; edge. An’ you rescued him an’ he went to jail. For he said ’twas the only way. An’ bis mother took it quite reas'pable that her husband’s son should take to the bad—’twas the way with all the Trudgeons. “You needn’t look at me like that. I’m past sixty and I’ve done my share of repentina He didn’t say if ; he was married, did he?”

Things Worth Knowing.

To relieve headache put one teaspoonful of liquid ammonia in a cup of hot water. Take one teaspoonful of the milky looking liquid every hour or half hour, according to the severity of the pain. One of the best known drainages for the pots of house plants is the packed--for- transportation. It -is said to contain moisture for a long period. .. ' —; —--- • ! For canker in the mouth dissolve half a teaspoonful of powdered borax in half a cup of warm water and rinse the mouth with it. It relieves the pain and causes the canker to speedily disappear. To make a splendid cement for mending almost anything, mix together litharge and glycerine to the consistency of thick cream or fresh putty. This cement is useful for mending stone jars or any coarse earthenware, for stopping leaks in seams ! of tin pans, cracks and holes in iron kettles and the like. Holes an inch in diamter in kettles can be filled and used the same for years in boiling water and feed. It may also be used to fasten on lamp tops, to fasten loose nuts, to secure bolts where nuts are lost, to tighten loose joints of wood or iron, loose boxes in wagons, hubs and a great many other things. In all cases the article mended should not be used until the cement has hardened, which will require from one day to one week, according to the quantity used. This cement will resist the action of acids, of water hot or cold, and almost any degree of heat. To wash graining use clear, warm water, no soap, and a clean, white cloth. Wash a small portion only at a time and wipe dry with another clean, white cloth. Do not wet more space than can be dripd immediately with the dry cloth, as graining must not be left to dry in the atmosphere; it must be rubbed dry—hence the necessity of dry, white cloths. If the graining has beerr neglected, or soiled with dirty fingers, or specked by summer growth of flies, a little hard soap may be necessary in the first water, but this must be speedily washed off, rinsed in clean water and wiped dry. But if possible a void the use of soap, as it will deaden the surface of the varnish, however carefully handled, and on no account rub any soap upon the rag with which you wash it. To give black walnut a fine polish so as to make it resemble rich, old wood, apply a coat of shellac varnish, then rub it with a smooth piece of pumice stone until dry. Another coat is then given and the rubbing repeated. After this a coat of polish made of linseed oil, beeswax and turpentine must be well rubbed in with a dauber. To make this dauber, wrap a piece of sponge in a piece of fine flannel several times folded, moisten this with the polish. If this work is not fine enough it may be finished by smoothing with the finest sandpaper and the rubbing described above repeated. In the course of time the walnut wood becomes verydark and rich in color, and is in every way srperior to that which has been varnished.

A Moderate Want.

I would not be my lady's glove. Thus lightly to be cast aside; Her bonnet or her gown, for love 1 -» Like mine would nearer her abide. And yet, I would not closer press, So closely that she must demur, But, oh, I'd bo her Lathing dress, And cling. And cling, _ _ And cling To her. —Worcester Record.

Distinction Without a Difference.

-You laugh it away, when you hear U said— Although you may think it true— Of the lovely girl that you hope to wed: ’“Why, she’s too young for you!" But your heart stands still, and your fact grows red, "• And you think it a kind of slur When this is the way tn which *tts said: “Why, you're too old for her."

His Part.

As they stood on the beach where the wore lets play, She laid het head on his satin vest And lifted her lips tn a pouting way ▲nd—he did the rest.

N, Y, Weekly. Thare iz one man in this basement world that i al wus look upon with mixt pheelings ov pity and'respekt. Pity ann respekt, as a general mixtur, don't mix Well. You will find them both traveling ! around amungst folks, but not grow- \ ing on the same bush. When they do hug each other they mean some thing— Pitty, without respekt, hain’tgot much more oats in it than disgqst I haz. I had rather a man would hit me J on the side ov the bed than tew pitty i me. But thare iz one man in this world to whom I alwus take oph mi hat, ■ and remain uncovered until he gits I safely by, and that iz the distrikt j skoolmaster. When I meet him I look upon him az a martyr just returning from the stake, or on hiz way thare tew be cookedHe leads a more lonesome and rsingle life<than an old bachelor, and a more anxious one than an old maid. He is remembered jist about as long and affektionately az a gideboard is by a traveling pack pedlar. If he undertakes tew make his skollarsTuv him. the chances are lie will ueglekt them larning; and if he don't lick them now and then pretty i often, they will soon lick him. The distrikt skoolmaster hain’tgot a friend on the flat side ov earth. The boys snowball him during recess; the girls put water in his hair die; and the skbol committee make him work for haff the money a bartenuer gits, and board him around the naberhood, whare they give him rye coffee, sweetened with molassis, tew drink, and kodjfish bawls 3 times a day foi'-vittles^—‘ And, with all tms abuse, I neve ~ ov~a7"TMstrikt " skooTrnhsteF s wealing entfy thing louder than— Condem it. Don't talk* tew me about the pashunce ov anshunt Job. Job had pretty plenty ov biles all over him, no doubt, but they were all ov one breed. Every yung one ta a distrikt skool iz a bile ov a. diffrent breed, and each one needs a diffirent kind ov poulteiss tew git a good head on it. A distrikt skoolmaster. who duz a square job, and takes hiz codfish bawls reverently, iz a better man today tew hav lieing around loose than Soklman would be arrayed in all ov hiz glory. Soloman waz better at writing proverbs and manageing a large family, than he would be tew navigate a distrikt skoal hous. Enny man who haz kept a distrikt skool for ten years, and boarded around the naberhood, ought tew be made a mager gineral, and hav a penshun for the rest ov biz natral days, and a hoss and waggin tew do hiz going around in. But, a? a general consequence, a distrikt skoolmaster hain’t got any more warm friends than an old blind fox houn haz. • ——" He iz jist about az welkum az a tax gatherer iz. He is respekted a good deal az a man iz whom we owe a debt ov 50 dollars to and don’t mean tew pay. He goes through life on a back road, az poor az a wood sled, and finally iz missed —but what ever bekum ov hiz remains, i kan’t tell. Fortunately he iz not often a senmore keep a distrikt skool than hq could file a kross-kut saw. Whi iz it that theze men and wimmen, who pashuntly and with crazed brain teach our remorseless brats the tejus moaning ov the alphabet, wlio take the fust welding heat <nr their destinys, who lay the stepping stones and enkurrage them tew mount upward, who hav dun more hard and mean work than ennyklass on the futstool, who have prayed over the reprobate, strengthened the timid, restrained the outrageous,and flattered the imbecile, who hav lived on kodfish and vile coffee, and hain’t been heard to sware—whi iz it that they are treated like a vagrant fiddler. danced to for a night, paid oph in the morning, and eagerly forgotten? I had rather burn a coal jjit, or keep the flys ov a butcher’s shop in the month ov August, than meddle with thedistrikt skool bizzness.

Interesting Facts About Able-bodied Anthropoids That Live in Trees. Washington Evening Star. 5 “My acquaintance with apes has been chiefly made in Borneo,” said Prof. Henry A. Ward, the famous natural science collector of Rochester. to a Star reporter the other day. “That great island is the home of the orang, which is the mcst arboreal of all monkeys. ’ The animals live in trees altogether, rarely, if ever, visiting the ground. It takes two good jnarksmen to shoot one, because they dodge around the tree trunks. They do all their fighting aloft, and it i”s great fun «o see them drop the arm fuls of fruit they have gathered in contests for its possession. They are plentiful in the lowlands near the coast. It is rarely that anybody ventures into the interior, because there the head hunting natives prowl.; Among them each man is required to have secured a head before he is permitted to marry, and on this account the young gentlemen savages are continually looking about for somebody t> kill. This makes traveling disagreeable.' , “One of the most noticeable features of the landscape of Borneo is

Cape Cod Item.

THE DISTRIKT SKOOLMASTER.

BY JOSII BILLINGS.

GIANT APE OF BORNEO.

r - - ■ —w th® nests of orangs which are scattered about thickly iamong the tall trees. From their number one might get a greatly exaggerated impression of the plentifulness of the species, unless it were understood how and for what purpose these roosting places are constructed. The beasts are greatly annoyed by flies, from which they ane able to protect the front part of their bodies with their bands, but they cannot keep the vicious insects from biting them in the rear, and so they gather a quantity of leaves and branches ana make them into couches to repose against among the boughs. , A protection of this sort servejfcyery well for® while, but presently its material begins to decompose and the decaying leaves attract the flies, which the orang is so anxious to get rid of. Then he is obliged to make another nest of fresh stuff, and so he may require dozens Of them in the course of the year. Inasmuch as he does not take the trouble to remove the old ones, they remain to adorn the treetop in which he swings about.

“Orangs have a very curious method of fighting. In their, conflicts among themselves, which are frequent, their effort is always to seize the fingers of their adversaries) and bite them. A very beautiful group of these animals at the National Museum, mounted by Mr., Hornaday, admirably illustrates a typical encounter of the sort. It is owing to this method of battle that it is almost impossible to procure a skin which does not lack some of the fingers. If defending itself against a man the beast will always attempt to grab the arms of his human opponent, so as to chew off his fingers. For this purpose its jaw is excellently adapted, being enormously powerful and equipped with huge incisors. “The favorite food of the orang is theTdiirionl the most delicious in the world, uniting u<? it does the flavor of the peaeli, the pear cud the strawberry. Like most things nearly perfect, however, thi* fruit has h namely,'that it leaves a taste in the mouth the next day after !t is eaten which is more abominable than can either be described or conceived. To protect Itself from the rain the orang crooks its arms over its heact The hair on the orang’s upper arm points downward while on the lower arm it points upward, the apparent purpose ,;being to shed the rain like a thatch when the attitude I have described is assumed. ? “The other great ape which makes its home in Borneo is the gibbon, 1 which is a small animal compared!, with the orang, Weighing only about forty or fifty pounds. It is very frail in its bodily make up. The head is set squarely upon the shoulders and it looks upward. When walking on the ground it balances itself along like a walker on the tight rope. Its remarkable power of grasp and dexterity in using its hands is equally with the shape qf its cranium an index of its superior intelligence, perhaps because it is able to take hold of a greater number of things and examine them. The gibbon is a natural acrobat. Its trapeze performances in the trees are simply marvelous. . ■ =i

“The animals go in droves, whereas the orangs live in families, and one of the most interesting spectacles imaginable is to see a troop of Ahem crossing a great gap in the forby throwing themselves in succession through the air, each ono taking-a^w-ing^ortwotogatnormo-mentum before launching himself. So great is their agility that in executing feats of this sort they seem like birds. “Natives in the country inhabited by great apes regard them always as human beings of inferior types, and it is for this reason that for a long time it was found impossible to get hold of an entire gorilla skin, because the savages considered it religiously necessary to cut off the hands and feet of the animals when they killed them, just as they do with their enemies, possibly for the purpose of rendering them harmless in case they should by any chance come to life again.” To make an excellent paste that will keep, take of wheat flour one ounce, Of powdered alum one-half drachm, water eight ounces,’ oil of cloves or Wintergreen or four drops. Rub the flour and alum with water to the consistency of milk, and to do this successfully— that- is, to mix it without lumps, beginby using a few drops of water only, them adding the rest of the water until i the right consistency is gained. Too great care can not be taken in: thus mixing the paste. Now place over a moderate fire and stir constantly until the paste drops from the wooden paddles in jelly-like flakes and' has the appearance of starch. While themass is still hot add the essential oil and pour the paste into an earthenware pot or open jar. In the course of about half an hour a crust forms on the top; pour gently upon this an inch of water, more or less. When, softie of the paste is wanted decant the water, take out the quantityneeded and put some water again:om the remainder, repeating the operation each time. Paste may be kept in this way for months, and will never be troubled with flies.

Force of Habit.

Harper's Bazar. Summer Boarder-Why,Mr. Wheat, ly, what on eartn is that gong down on your plow? Mr. Wheatly—Waal ma’am, them, air horses my son Zeke bought from a city railway company, and the tarnel critters won t budge an inch till they hear the signal so I have tenhumor them,