Rensselaer Union, Volume 7, Number 50, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 2 September 1875 — Page 4

AGRICULTURAL AND DOMESTIC.

—An obdurate screw may sometimes be drawn by applying a piece of red hot iron to the head for a minute or two, and immediately using the screw-driver. —To make baking powder, take onehalf pound baking soda, one-half pound flour, one pound cream-tartar, two ounces tartaric acid, and mix well. Use two teaapoonflila to each quart of flour; add milk when you hare it, but if not wet with. cold water and bake immediately. —To make Delmonico pudding, take one quart of scalding milk, eight tablespoonfuls of corn starch wet in cold milk; stir into the milk with the yelks of three eggs beaten well, a little salt and four tablespoonfuls of sugar. Take off the Are, flavor to taste, froth the eggs and put in the oven and brown. —ln shooting ducks, prairie chickens, etc., if you do not wish to draw them, hang them up by the legs, not by the neck; they will keep twice as long in warm weather. Also, when you catch a large fish, kill him at once by striking him on the back of the head with a hammer or piece of iron; he will keep as long as if left to die gradually.— Chicago —Bean pickles are delicate and very tempting yet, easily made. Procure young beans from the late crops, wash and boil in slightly salted water till tender; drain them through a colander or sieve, then dry with a cloth. • Pour boiling vinegar, spiced to taste, over them; repeat this two or three days, or till they look green. —To make lemon rice pudding boil one-half pint of rice in two and one-half pints of ihilk until soft; add to it while soft the yelks of three well-beaten eggs, the grated rind of two lemons, three tablespoonfuls of sugar and a pinch of salt. If too thick add a little cold milk; it should be a little thicker than boiled custard ; turn into a pudding-dish, beat the whites of the eggs very stiff, together with eight tablespoonfuls of sugar and the juice of the lemons. Brown and cat very cold. —Plants taken from the garden in autumn to winter in the house should be carefully potted early in September, hardened on in the shade out of doors, and removed to the parlor when the nights become frosty; in warm, sunny days they should have plenty of fresh air. ’Treated thus we may have autumn and early winter bloom, whereas if we delay tlie autumn transplanting until the plants are checked by frost thev seldom give bloom till February.— Horticultural Journal. —Never cut flowers during intense sunshine, or keep them exposed to the sun or wind. Do not collect them in large bundles, or tie them together, as this hastens their decay. Do not pull them, but cut them cleanly oft' the plant with a sharp knife—not with scissors. When taken in .doors place them in the shade and reduce them to the required length of stalk w ith the knife, by which the tubes through which they draw up water are permitted to act freely; whereas if the stems are bruised or lacerated the jpores are closed up. Ise pure water to set them, or pure white sand in a state of saturation, sticking the ends of the stalks into it, but not in a crowded manner.— N. Y. Herald.

A Sure Cure for Sunstroke and Apoplexy.

A New York physician writes: “ I believe sunstroke and apoplexy, can be cured almost surely if taken in any kind of time. First, rub powerfully on the back and neck, making horizontal and downward movements. This draws the blood away from the front brain and vitalizes the involuntary nerves. Second, while rubbing call for cold water immediately, which apply to the face and to the hair on the top and side of the bead. Third, call for a bucket of water as hot as can be borne and pour it by dipperfuls on the back of the head and neck for several minutes. The effect will be wonderful for vitalizing the medulla oblongata; it vitalizes the whole body and the patient will generally start into nill conscious life in a very snort time. Persons of large, active brains and weak bodies will be more liable to sunstroke or apoplexy and should wear light-colored cool hats in summer, wet the hair occasionally, and if they fee! a brain-pressure coming on should rub briskly on the back of the neck and put cold water on the front and top of the head. These remarks, if heeded, will prevent great danger and great suffering. I have never known this method to fail.” »

Woolen Waste in Agriculture.

The available residue of the wool used in any manufacture is about 20 per cent pt the whole amount. Of this waste all is of more or less value as manure. It is strictly nitrogenous, and has little other value. The proportion of nitrogen is only about 3.85 per cent, of the woolen, andjts, value to the farmer becomes a question of carriage. If the woolen waste can be delivered on the farm at a less cost than the 3.85 per cent, of nitrogen can be bought in the form of commercial manures, it will pay to use it, otherwise it will not. Its usual treatment on the farm is to plow it in, to mix it with compost, or to mix it with phosphates. In the ground it is slow to decay, and it is claimed that it is avail able for two or three years after placing in the soil. Another and better method is to use the waste as a litter and absorbent. Manufacturers of manure use woolen waste extensively by treating it with acids, alkalies, or superheated steam. Very fair manures are made in this way and are extensively usee in Europe. Still water, in which sheep nave been washed, has been found to dep" ita fine mud, also available as manure, lite subject of woolen waste in agriculture has been under examination in Belgium aulthe above facts are from the official reports of the State The chief po ats are that woolen waste ! is nitrogenous in character, that its real value as a nuri are is only 3.85 per cent, of its bulk, an Tthat it is available as a bedding material. — Scribner'e Monthly.

Concentrated Culture.

Years of experience in the culture of wheat have remonstrated one fact preeminently—that it is time, labor and" money thrown away to attempt to raise a crop without careful culture. The one great fault of too many is to attempt to cultivate too much. Concentrated culture is what is needed. Put the time, labor and manure on less land, and more will be produced. Thorough drainage is .absolutely necessary to prevent freezing out in winter. If you have intended to put out ten acres on laud not ftoroughly drained, put out half, or one-third or one-fourth as much, and expend the balance of the labor in draining, and you will get more wheat. A goo<h rich soil is abeolutelv .necessary to prevent winter-killing as well \s to furnish the necessary food for the Xante. If your soil is not in this condiV and you have intended to spread

manure over ten or fifteen acres that is insufficient for five, stop and consider before you commence. It is better to raise 100 bushels from five acres than fifty from ten. Again, you can, perhaps, put enough labor upon five acres to put it in the best condition; spread the same labor over two or three times the surface, and you lay a good foundation for a failure. Concentrated labor pay’s in all crops, but in none so well as wheat. We saw one piece of three acres that yielded, thia year, over sixty bushels, while the average yield of that’section will not behalf that . The owner told us that he had intended to put in the w hole field—six acres —but concluded to try concentration of labor and manure, and the result proved the wisdom of his conclusion. The field was clover sown with some timothy, and the three acres saved furnished excellent pasture this season. He intends to treat it this fall just as he did the other half last fall, which is now well seeded to clover and timothy again. If you have no soil well adapted to wheat, don’t cultivate wheat. Cultivate something that it is adapted to—some crop on which you can depend? In a good season soils not well adapted to wheat will produce good crops, even under ordinary care; but such seasons do not come once in ten years, perhaps, and it will not pay to run the risk. —Ohio Farmer.

The Weather and the Crops.

The most noticeable and important change in weather so far as the North west is concerned, during the past week, was the occurrence of frost on the nights ot Saturday and Sunday last’ in parts of Northern Illinois, much of Wisconsin and Minnesota. The extent of the injury-done is as vet uncertain. but we know- that, especially on low lands, much damage was done to the growing crops. Corn was late and has undoubtedly lieen seriously injured in many places, but it is fortunate that the frost did not reach the great corn-growing region of the West. Buckwheat was also injured. The tobacco crop of Wisconsin is probably very badly damaged, and a similar statement is made as to the cranberry crop in the same State. Some garden vegetables have suffered much. More serious, however, than any probable injury by these frosts is the danger of greater damage by others liefore the corn and some other crops have time to mature. The more pleasant features of the past week, were the general pleasant weather for completing the harvest of the wheat and other small grains, and the generally favorable reports as to the yields. The latest reports from Europe are of favorable weather and rather better yields than were expected, and a consequent decline in prices for grain to some extent. The cold weather here, with the reported injury to corn by frosts, tended to counteract this and to make the markets excited and the prices slightly higher We regret that any- section of the country’ has suffered loss to its crops by’ insects, drought, flood or frost, but for the individuals and the communities so fortunate as to have good yields there are certainly good prospects, as every indication now is that prices for all leading farm products will be satisfactory’ to the producer.— Ilodtrn Hural, Aug. 28.

Eating Fruit.

We hardly know how to account for the popular impression that still prevails in many- rural districts that the free use of fruit is unfriendly to health. It has much to do with the scarcity of fruitgardens and orchards in the country. As a matter of fact, cities and villages are much better supplied with fruit the year round than the surrounding country.’ There are hundreds of farms, even in the oldest parts of the land, where there is no orchard and the only fruit is gathered from a few seedling apple trees grown in the fence-corners. The wants of cities are supplied not so much from the proper farming districts as from a few men in their suburbs who make a business of growing fruit for market. The farmers who raise a good variety of small fruits for the supply of their own families are still the exception. The vih lager, with his quarter or half acre lot, will have his patch of strawberries, his grape-vines and pear trees, apd talk intelligently of the varietv of these fruits. Elis table is well supplied with these luxuries for at least half of the year. But there is a lamentable dearth of good fruit upon the farm from the want of conviction that it pays. It does payin personal comfort* and health, it in nothing else. The medical facultywill bear testimony to the good influence of ripe fruit upon the animal economy. They regulate the system better than anything else and forestall many of the diseases to which we are liable in the summer and fall. A quaint old gentleman of our acquaintance often remarks thaFapples are the only pills he takes. He takes these every day in the year when they can be found in the market, and fills up the interval between the old and the new crop with other fruits. He has hardly seen a sick day in forty’ years and pays no doctor’s bill. We’ want more good fruit, especially upon our farms, and the habit of eating fruit at our meals. This is just one of the matters in which farmers’ wives can exert an influence. Many a good man would set out fruit trees and bushes if he were only reminded of it at the right time. One right time will be this autumn —at least in all but the very coldest parts of this country. A few dollars invested then will bring abundant returns in from one to five years. It is more intimately connected with good morals than our philosophers think. With good digestion it is quite easy to fulfill the law of love.— Grocery and Provision Hecietc.

Insects Injurious to Wheat.

Insects injurious to wheat are more or less numerous in all parts of the country. ‘Unfortunately, however, the greater portion of these pests are of small size; and therefore readily escape notice until their numbers have increased to such an extent as to cause serious losses to the farmer or dealers in this grain. * Some kinds confine their ravages to the wheat plant while it is quite small, as, for instance, the Hessian fly (Ceridomyia deetnictor), which deposits its eggs in the ’’wheat plant during the autumn, while another brood of the same attacks it again >in the spring, the grubs boring into the center of the stalk and causing it to wither and die. This terrible pest of our wheatfields was first observed on Staten Island in 1776, and from this point it appears to have spread over the country, sometimes increasing to such an extent as to compel farmers to abandon wheat culture entirely for a number of years in succession, and over a wide range of territory, then again disappearing, probably through the agency of parasitic enemies. It is only a few years since the great regions of Central New York were devastated by this insect, and it will doubtless appear again in the same localities, so tha/the fanner must be on the alert

Another species of the same genus, known as the “ wheat midge" (Cecidomyia trit id), is also quite common in many localities, and we have before us two heads of wheat, received from Mr. W. C. Littleton, of Tippecanoe County, Ind., which contain the pupa of this pest. The habit of this last-named species is quite different from the former, the female depositing her eggs in the heads of wheat while it is in blossom. The eggs hatch in eight to ten days, the maggots feeding upon the pollen, also sucking the juices of the young, soft kernels and causing them to shrivel. After reaching maturity the grubs descend to the ground, forming minute, thin cocoons within which titey pass the winter, appearing again in time to attack the wheat when m bloom. These cecidomyias are very small, two-winged flies, but they have natural enemies in still more minute species of four-winged flies belonging to the genus Platygastes. Were it not for the latter we fear our farmers w-ould soon have to abandon wheat-culture altogether; but as the midge increases its natural enemy also has an opportunity of multiplying; occasionally, however, the wheat-destroyers appear to get the advantage for a few years at least, but their enemies soon become strong enough in numbers to overpower and destroy them. There is still another insect which is sometimes very injurious to growing wheat. It is generally referred to as the “ joint-worm,’’ from the appearance of the maggots in or near the joints on the stems of the wheat. When abundant, great numbers of the wheat-stalks die and break down soon after the heads appear. The name of the species which attack wheat is Eurotyma hordei— Harris. Another species attacks rye in a similar manner; another barley; and, as the pupae of all of them remain in the dry straw during winter, the best method of checking their ravages is to burn over tlie stubble in the fall and see that all the straw from which the grain is threshed is either fed out to. stock or rotted down in the barn-yard before warm weather in tlie following spring. After wheat is threshed and put away in the bins it is.not safe from tlie attacks of insects. Perhaps the most common and destructive kind in this country is the red grain weevil (Sitophilus granarius). It is a small beetle of a pitchy red color, and attacks wheat after it is stored, eating out the inside of the kernel; hence it is not easily detected except by handling the grain or submitting it to a slight pressure, the shell readily breaking when This weevil is sometimes exceedingly numerous about old barns in the Middle States, and considerable care is necessary to preserve seed-wheat in good condition for sowing. Infested barns should be well cleansed every season before new grain is putin, even to fumigating with burning sulphur, as well as dusting the cracks about the bins with the same substance. A closely allied species of weevil, attacks rice as well as wheat in tlte Southern States. It differs from the former in having two large red spots on each elytrop, and is of a dark brown or black color. It is generally known as the “ black weevil.” There are other species of weevil which infest wheat, besides numerous moths and flies, and it would be well for our farmers to pay more attention to these pests and not only learn how to recognize the different species, but learn what is known of their habits, and how best to destroy them. The longer such things are neglected the more abundant they are likely to become, and it is quite frequently the case that a few dollars investedin entomological works, and a few 7 evenings spent in reading them, would save a farmer hundreds of dollars annually.— N. I’. Sun. .

Repelling Flies from Stock.

Some one w-ho doubtless never tried the experiment recommended in many agricultural papers saturating the hair of cattle and horses with a strong decoction made bv boiling the leaves of walnut trees. There is not a particle of efficacy in such a remedy. We applied coal tar to the hair of a cow on her legs and sides, but the flies worked right through the tar, annoying the animal about as much as before the tar was laid on. J. J. Mechi calls attention to the system of darkening cow stables by hanging old canvas over the openings, adoptee! by the late Mr. Hudson,\of Castle Acre, to’keep out tlie flies. He says that on a visit there he was amused and instructed by seeing the well-fattened cattle get rid of their tormentors by passing between pendant canvas curtains, which admitted them and closed after them, rendering the shed dark and flyless. Another friend who had many cows in a long shed, having its ridge louvre-boarded throughout its whole length and divided by a pendant board on Watson’s principle, excluded light except from these openings in the roof. Not a single cow's tail was in motion, for tlie flies would not descend into the darkness. Dr. William Home says: I have experimented with many things for the prevention desired, but all have failed except a darkened stabte when the horse is not in use. and a cover made of cheese-cloth with ear and neck piece when in use. I am using one worn three summers, and it is good for this season. I had a'Fostly net, which did not answer half sO'well as the cheese-cloth. This is bound with red, with holes for the turrets and saddle-hooks to pass through. The neck-piece is separate from the body-piece.— A. F. Herald.

Harvesting Apples.

Experience alone must servlf as a guide to the orchardist as to the proper time for harvesting fruit. We can only give this general direction: Gather the truit when fully grown, or at the time when it has received the greatest nourishment from the tree. Ladders of different lengths, also stands, are employed for this purpose. * * * TUe-windfalls should first be gathered and converted into cider, or at least kept entirely separate from the remaining fruit. Pick by hand, select and pack with great care, so as to obviate bruising the fruit. In assorting make two qualities for market and a third for cider or for Swine. Pack in new or clean barrels. Pack one kind only in the same barrel or box; also let the apples be of as uniform size and appearance as may be. The upper layer of apples should protrude somewhat above the chine, and be brought down and headed under pressure. Emplov for this purpose a clamp, either patent or home-made. Some operate with a screw, others with a lever. The latter is veiy simple, and may be easily constructed. For shipping the pressure system is particularly desirable, as it retains each appie in its place, and hence prevents it being rattled about and bruised. The fruit being barreled should remain in open sheds till the approach of cold weather. Keep as cool as possible without freezing before removing to the. cellar.— Maine Powudogical Keport. Never lend money to a genius.

Our Young Folks.

AS WE GO ALONG.

BY MARY C. BARTLETT.

Dick and Dora were traveling Westward. It was before the days (the~nights, rather) of sleeping-cars; and being determined to go “ straight through,”.as Dick said at starting, they were not a little fatigued when the darkness of the second night gathered about them. But, though fatigued, they were by no means out of sorts. They were thoroughly posted as to the changes of their journey; they knew they were right; all that they desired was to proceed as rapidly as Dora looked smilingly around upon the drowsy passengers “Do see that old lady, Dick,” said she, with a smothered laugh. “ Her head bobs about like the tail of Ned’s kite. ThereJ she’s down at last. No, she isn’t, either. Oh!” Here the old lady in question straightened herself and looked severely around, as if to reprove all who had even suspected her of an inclination to slumber. Happening to glance toward our young friends, she encountered two pairs of bright eyes. The eyes tried to be polite, but they could not help being truthful. They seemed to say: “We did laugh. We could not help it. We cannot help it now.” The old lady could not help it, either. Such a hearty, cosy little laugh as it was all round w’hen she had set the example! “Lucky for us old people that our necks are insured,” said she, cheerily? “and lucky for us that we can’t see ourselves as others see us. Heads bobbing about like the tail of Ned’s kite, eh?” “ Oh, I beg your pardon,” said Dora, with crimson cheeks. “I didn’t know you heard.”

“ Don’t worry yourself in the least, my dear. I’m going to try it again. If you can get any fun out of this poor old head you're heartily welcome to it, I’m sure. You’ll need all you can get before morning—l can tell you that.” “We shall soon be ‘bobbing around, around, around’ ourselves,” laughed Dick. ; “ So you will. Wish I could keep awake to see; but I can’t. Good-night to you. Pleasant dreams.” Dora arose from her seat and walked toward the old lady, taking her long shawl with her. “ Mother would make me bring this,” said she, ignoring the deprecating gesture. “I don’t know why, I’m sure, for we have my water-proof and Dick’s overcoat besides. It will make a capital pillow for you. Will you let me arrange it?” The old lady demurred, but Dora insisted, and soon had the satisfaction of seeing the guay head no longer bobbing and bowing, but reposing peacefully and quietly. “ She’s sound asleep now,” she said thankfully to Dick. “ And she wouldn’t be ashamed to own it, either.” At this moment the sound of the whistle announced that they were near a station, and soon afterward there was the hurry and bustle of departures and arrivals. Among the latter was a plainly-dressed woman, who carried upon one arm a heavy traveling-bag, and upon the other a baby, who was screaming at the top of its little voice. “Dear me!” yawned Dora. “I was just thinking of taking a nap. How provoking!” “Jf I’m ever old enough to vote I’ll go for a law to make the women keep their babies at home,” said Dick, savagely. “What a public-spirited, benevolent man he will be!” laughed Dora, pretending to smooth the wrinkles in his forehead with her plump hand. “Nonsense! But do hear that rascally baby!” “ I think he’s sick,” said Dora, compassionately. “ It’s a girl, and she’s no more sick than you are. I wish you’d go over and inquire how r long she intends to keep up that screeching, because a fellow can’t—” Dora didn’t wait for him to finish the sentence. To his intense surprise, she arose and walked down the aisle as steadily as was possible.

Dick watched her anxiously as she talked with the baby’s mother. Once or twice, as he caught her eye, he beckoned eagerly, imploring her. with frantic gestures, to return, but Dora paid no heed. When, at last, she turned to come back he saw, to his infinite horror, that she was bringing the “ rascally baby” with her. He was really angry now, and he took no pains to conceal it. “If that baby’s going to stay here, I'm not," said he, crossly, wrapping his overcoat about him. “ Where are you going?” “ Into another- car. I’ll find you in the morning. Good-night." He would have been off, but Dora laid a coaxing hand upon his shoulder. “Just wait a minute, Dick; I want to tell you something. I thought I’d take the baby awhile, because the mother has & dreadful headache, and ” “No wonder,” interrupted Dick, making a hideotfs face, at the screaming child. “ Listen to me. This baby hasn’t had a thing to eat since four o’clock.” “ Why in the world don’t you give it something, then?” cried Dick’, making a furious dive for the lunch-basket. “ What a gooSe* you are, Dick! Don’t you she that she hasn’t a tooth in her head! What she wants is milk, with a little warm water in it. and sugar enough to sweeten it just a little. That’s-all she eats.” “ Who told you so much ?” “Her mother.” < “ I knew ’twas a girl the minuteT heard her voice. I told you so,” said Dick, a slight shade of triumph mingling with his vexation. “They've been traveling two days,” continued Dora-, ignoring Dick’s last remark, “ and the mother tried to get some milk at C——. She gave her bottle to one of the table-girls there, but tpe cars wouldn’t wait until she’d filled it .1L “Of course not,” growled Dick. “ Just like a woman to expect a. whole train of cars to stop for a bottle of milk.” “So she had to come on without it. And, oh, Dick! won’t you try to get just a Itttle at the nextstopping-place?” “ Me?” inquired Dick, in amazement. “ You can take our mug. The bottle’s lost, you know. She’ll have to do the best she can with this.” “Me!” repeated Dick, incredulously. “ Yes, you. Don’t you know what Aunt Ruth says about doing good as we go along ? We can pretend we’re missionaries—Aomz missionaries, you know.” “Well, give me the mug. Anything to stop this noise?’ The cars stopped. Dick rushed out, mug in hand. Stopping the first man he met in the station, he made his modest request t “ Here! Fill this, please.” “ What with ?t*, “ Milk, with a little warm water, and

just sweetening enough to sugar it. The baby’s starving. Lost its bottle at C . Hasn’t had a thing to eat—drink, I mean —for hours.” “ Wq haven’t a drop,” replied the man. “I’m sorry, but you come too late." “ Couldn’t come any sooner,” replied Dick, “and I must have it. Be quick, please, or I shall be late." “ No danger of that,” said another man, reassuringly;/.* they wait fifteen minutes here. Giv eme the cup, and I’ll go over to Joe Fellerses’. His baby’s sick since Tuesday, and it’s likely they’ll be up messin’?’! reckon they’ll have a drop or two to spare." It was not without misgiving that Dick gave Dora’s pretty mug into the stranger’s hand. 4< “If it’s gone, it’s gone,” he thought to himself. “It can’t be helped, and there’s no use in worrying.” So he contented himself with looking after the man as long as he could see him, and resolved to wait as patiently as possible until the signal sounded. “ How old is your baby?” asked one of the men. “ Oh, I don’t know. It’s a very young one.” “ Ever traveled with it before?” asked the man, curiously. “ No, indeed!” replied Dick, with flushing cheeks. “ Its mother’s in the car.” “ Take my advice and leave it at home next time. Travelin’ never agrees with these little fellers.” Dick’s eyes fairly blazed. “ ’Tisn’t mine!” he roared savagely. Then, suddenly remembering how kindly these men had interested themselves in his behalf, he added, more gently: “Its mother had a headache, so I came.” Just then Dick’s rejoicing eyes spied the man who had taken the mug coming quickly toward him. “ Here’s your cup, you youngster,’’ said he. “ Joe Fellerses’ wife wouldn’t use it Here’s a bottle that’ll just fit a baby’s mouth —it’s one her Johnny’s outgrowed. She’s glad enough to help all the babies along, for the sake ot that poor little man of her’n.”

“I’m very much obliged,” said Dick, heartily ashamed of his late misgivings, and fumbling in his pocket for some change. “Bless your soul, she don’t want any pay. Don’t stop for that. If that little feller of yours is as hungry as you make out, the sooner you get back to him the better, ” * Dick thought so too. He was hurrying from the station when a woman entered, accompanied by a girl apparently about thirteen years old. He would have rushed past them, but the woman spoke: “Goin’ on this train?” Yes.’’ “How fur?” “ To L replied Dick. “ There’s just where this child wants to go. Now, couldn’t you just look after her a little? She won’t be no trouble.” Dick looked at the “ child.” He saw’ an aw’kward, ungainly figure, clad in garments of coarse texture and queer, unbending hues. He saw a pale, thin face, in which a pair of sore eyes seemed to be the fearfully prominent features. They were not pleasant to look upon. He shivered. “She’s goin’ there to be doctored,” continued the w’oman. “You see, her aunt she lives in L , and she thinks her doctor can help her eyes. I can’t go with her, and she’s an awful scary child—’fraid of her shadder. Her aunt’ll meet her at the depot; but if you’ll just let her sit somewhere nigh you and speak a word to her now and then on the way ” “What if I had such eyes as those!” thought Dick. “ I’ll do it,” said he aloud, grasping his bottle a little tighter. “ She can come along with me. We must hurry up. There’s the bell.” “Good-by, Marietta,” called the woman, as they left the station. “Be a good girl. There’s nothing to be afeared of. Remember that.” Dick found Dora anxiously awaiting him. “ Where have you been? and where did you get this?” she cried, seizing the bottle and putting it to the lips of the poor, tired baby, who drank eagerly. “ Joe Fellerses’ wife sent it to you with her compliments.’’ “ She’s a good woman, whoever she is,” said Dora, earnestly; “but-—” (dropping her voice) “who on earth have you there, Dick?” as he motioned to the girl to take a seat just behind them. “That!” replied Dick carelessly, in a low tone. “ That’s Marietta.” “Who’s Marietta?” “ Our new fellow-passenger.” “ What’s the matter -with her eyes ?” “They’re sore.” “ 1 should think so, poor thing. Where did you pick her up ?” “At the station. She’s going to L with us. We’re to take care of her.”

“ 0—h!” groaned Dora. “ Don’t you know what Aunt Ruth says about doing good as we go along?” inquired Dick, calmly. “ But such a large girl! Can’t she take care of herself?” “She’s timid —afraid of her shadder." “She won’t be likely to see her shadder here.” “We can pretend we’re missionaries—home missionaries,” said Dick, cheerfully. “I should prefer a good, wholesomelooking heathen for a traveling-compan-ion,” sighed Dora. “We can’t have everything to please us,” said Dick, pompously. “ How quiet that child is!” “Of course she is. All she wanted was something to eat. See! she’s almost asleep—the little darling!” . “You must have been cut out for a missionary,” laughed Dick. “Your little heathen does you credit” “ That’s more than I can say for yours,” retorted Dora, glancing over her shoulder at the new passenger. The poor girl was sitting with her back to the light, shading her eyes with one slender hand. Dora turned quickly. *‘ Dick Wilson!” she exclaimed. “ Take this baby, piease. I’m going to talk with Marietta.” “Well, put her down easy, so that a fellow can get a good hold.” “Don’t go to sleep and drop her,” was Dora’s parting injunction. j She took the seat behind Marietta, that the poor weak eyes might not encounter the glare of the blazing lamp. She spoke kindly to her, asking her a few questions in such a tone of interest that the girl’s shyness melted away at last, and she became communicative. What Dora learned of her circumstances she told Dick early the next morning, almost with tearful eyes. “ She wants so much to go to school, Dick, but she can’t, She can’t read or sew, and she has towear blue glasses when' the sun is very bright” “She sleeps well,” replied Dick, who pitied the poor girl from the bottom of his heart, but didn’t know how to say so. “ I’m so glad she’s with us, Dick, because, you see, people don’t always take

pains to speak io girls when they look dis agreeably." “So am I." v “Wasn’t it strange that neither of us knew when the baby’s mother came and took hrt - ?” “ I dreamed that somebody was thanking me for something. That’s all I knew about it.” “They’re both asleep now,” yawned Dora, looking toward them; “and so is our old lady. Do you know, Dick, I’m almost sorry the daylight’s coming—l’m Dick never heard the rest of that sentence, but he rather thought the word was “ sleepy.” « They were both bright and wide awake, however, when, a few hours afterward, the cars reached L- . The old lady bade them good-by with a hearty “God bless you!” The weary mother smiled her thanks, and the baby put out her little hands beseechingly to Dick as he passed. Friends were waiting forthem at the depot; but even Ur the first cordial greetings they did not forget their unfortunate companion. “ Her aunt isn’t here,” said Dora, anxiously. “ Yes, she is,” cried Dick: “ There she comes round that corner. She sees her.”' And they shouted acheerful “ good-by” to poor Marietta, who gave them a grateful smile as she disappeared from view. And then, tired and hungry as bears, but for some reason or other feeling very happy, they hurried away.—Nt. Nicholas for September.

RELIGIOUS AND EDUCATIONAL.

—A Western minister declines the title of D. D. because he considers it to be inconsistent with the command in the New Testament, “Be ye not called Rabbi” (Matt, xxiii., 8). —The Italian Giunta Liguidatrice has sold to the American Methodists in Rome a piece of ground adjacent to the Church of the Crociferi for 60,000 lire. A place of worship will be erected on this lot by the Methodists. —A writer in the Jewish Messenger urges the establishment of an effective organization among American Israelites as the only means of making the Jewish Church take rank with others and show that its creed and practice are still entitled to the respect of mankind. In this organization, he argues, great latitude ought to be permitted to religious opinions and conformity exacted as to essential matters only. —To educate children—one’s own children—is a troublesome, hard task, rarely succeeding to our wishes, therefore one connected with sorrow and care. - All parents without exception know this all over the earth; they have experienced it, survived it. But the task does not last forever; it passes away and does not claim everything. With thanks toward God we see our children grown up, and we rejoice that there is no more need of education. Not much of the work, perhaps not the whole of it, is to be begun again.—Exchange. —The minutes of the General Assembly of the Southern Presbyterian Chhrch for 1875 show great prosperity. The number of persons added to the churches in 1874 on a profession of faith was 7,846; the total number of members is 107,334. At the close of the late war it was about 80,000. The largest increase for the year past was in the Synod of Virginia. The largest Sunday-school, that of the First Church in Nashville, Tenn., numbers 715 scholars.

—What is heeded in our public schools is more oral teaching and less hearing of recitations. Geography should be taught by lectures, by books of travel, by illustrations, and there is no studies except those of grammar and mathematics which could not be made highly attractive to youthful minds. Children should be macle to employ other things beside mere memory; and first of all their imaginations should be utilized by the teacher if he aims at making scholars of his pupils. Facts are good enough in their way, but boys cannot live upon facts alone. Even they need sauce to render them palatable.—Philadelphia Inquirer. —The Nashville Christian Advocate of a recent date consolidates the conference returns of the Methodist Church for 1874. The following are the aggregates: Traveling preachers 3,224 Superannuated jireachers 261 Local preachers. 5 356 White members 686,764 Oolored members ... 2J562 Indian members 4 697 Total preachers and membership 712’,765 Increase over 1874 37,375 Infants baptized 21,909 Adults baptized 40/358 Sunday-schools 7,204 Sunday-school teachers...... 48,823 Sunday-school scholars 328,634 Collections for conference claimants. .$64,294 20 Collections for missionslol,6s3 46 The number of conferences is thirty seven, of which North Georgia is the largest—having a membership of 51,683. North Carolina is next, withamembershin of 50,426.

Equine Suicide.

The San Francisco Alta of the 9th inst. prints this story: “The latest sensation reported to the.mil ice is the death of a horse under cirdSnstances which indicate that the magnificent animal willfully or with malice aforethought made away with his own life. Some weeks ago a Mr. Edwards, a local druggist, gave a valuable young horse to a trainer to break. The animal appeared as tractable as the majority of colts of his age, and his education progressed rapidly until Saturday afternoon, when the trainer drove him out to the ocean ‘beach. As soon as the colt caught sight of the boundless deep he was seized with a fit of emotional insanity, and taking the bit in his teeth he-dashed off toward the breakers. Thinking that a dash of water would cool his ardor, the trainer made no extraordinary efforts to check his colt, but when he found himself in three fathoms of water, with the infatuated animal still heading for the sea, he concluded it was time to change his tactics, and, resigning his ribbons, he plunged into the water and swam ashore. The colt, however, continued on his course till, exhausted by battling with the waves, •and incumbered with the wagon, he ceased to swim and turned over on his side limp and inanimate. The carcass of the misfuided animal was washed ashore yesteray, and was viewed with curiosity by a number of persons who heard the story of the animal’s death.” Old Mrs. Boulay, of Dallas, Tex., found SI,BOO in gold under her floor the other day. It had been placed there by her husband, who had neglected to tell her about it before he died. Boulay for the old man. < The valuation of New York city for purposes of taxation has fallen off just about 5 per cent inthe past year, and now stands at $1,100,943,000-a reduction of $54,000,000.