Rensselaer Union, Volume 9, Number 50, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 30 August 1877 — Page 3

The Benßselaer tJnioii. iHMwP-A mi •: i • ‘ ' r*’ »r. RENSSELAER, . • INDIANA.

; n BENNINGTON. Tbs following posm by Wm. Cutlen Bryant, «H rand utho reoeat oelebraUou of the hundredth anniversary of the Battle of Bennington: On this fnlr valley’* verdant breast The calm eweet rsvs of eummer reet. And dove-like peace benignly brood* On U* imoolb lawn* and eolemn woods. A centary rinse. In flame and amok*, The storm of battle o’er It broke. And, ere the invader tamed end fled. These pleasant Helds were strewn with dead. Btark, quick to act and bold to dare. And Warner's mountain band were therfe. And Allen, who bad flung the pen Aside to lead the Berkshire men. With flcty onset, blow for blow, They rushed upon the embattled foe. And ilwept his squadrons from the vs la Like leaves before the autumn gale. Ohl neves- may the purple stain Of combat blot these fields again, Nor this fair valley ever cease To wear the placid smile of peace. Tet here, beside that battle-fleld. We plight the vow that, ere we yield Tne rights for which our fathers bled. Our blood shall steep the ground we tread.

BLACK EAGLE’S LAST BACE.

“ When Mars Dick—dat’s your uncle, chilyun—went off lo Europe, I heah’d -him a-sayin’ fa’well to yur firder. ‘You’ve got do ’heritancc yet, Robert,’ he Bays —‘you’ve got do house an’de lan.’ I’se de prodigal son. I’se lef myself only an empty pocket an’ dese two ole salivants. Will yur gib ’em shelter till day dies, in ’membrance ob ole times ?’ Dem sahvants war dat hoss in de stall yonder—dat great racer, Black Eagle, an’— me.” And the speaker gave emphasis to his remark by a lordly wave of his hand over his skinny little figure, as he sat perched on the top of a barrel. “■Yis, sab! Dat war jes’ like yer Uncle Dick —allers free-handed —gibin’ to de right han’ an’ de lef’ de mos’ valooblest Tings he owned! Dah he is now, in dem far-off lan’s a-dinin’ wid Kings, an’ a-waltzin’ wid Princesses—de Furlongs allers kep’ de best ob company—an neber nigger ob his own to black his shoes. How’s dey to know lie’s de owner ob dat freat hoss, Black Eagle, sah, or obme? ’ur fader, he's got us. He allers had de pick an’ de choose, Mars Robert did.” The Furlong boys did not relish this everlasting grumbling of old Point. They had a pretty clear idea of the true story of Uncle Dick. Boys always do catch glimpses of the family skeletons, no matter how tightly the closet doors are locked. They suspected that it was on racers like Black Eagle that “-Mars Dick” had squandered his property, and that now, in his old age, he did not spend much of his time in dining with the crowned heads pf Europe. But their father, whenever he appeared in the stable-yard, did not allow them to argue with the old man, - no matter how cranky he was. “He was faithfnl to your Uncle Dick, to the lajt,” he would say. “ Poor Dick!” And—stroking the old black horse tenderly—” I wonder if you remember your old master, old fellow?” And always when he went away, he would give orders to Sanders, the man of all work, to “ take especial care of that horse.” Sanders, who was a crabbed, but order- *• ly Scotchman, when behind liis master’s hack would often call Black Eagle‘‘old carrion,” and threaten to “ take him out some flue day and shoot him;” whereat Point would rouse from his doze on the barrel, stuttering with rage. “ De boss understand you, sah, but he can’t answer you! Talk to me, sah! Es Mars Dick on’y knowed how his ole age was being made misabul by dese poor white tiash I” To which Sanders only replied by declaring tnat he “ couldn’t keep the barnyard tidy as long as Mr. Furlong cluttered it up with the carcasses of beasts and old *men.”

So the squabble went on from day to day. I suspect both the old men enjoyed it at heart, though Point insisted that the horse was made wretched by it. “ Dat hoss, childun, neber ’sociated wid sech white trash befoh. He’s kep’ mighty fine oompany in his day. He belong to an English Prince when he’s a colt; an’ when Mars Dick buyed him, and bringed him ober, all de papers in de lan’ war tellin’ de news. I mind de fus’ time he run on de Metairie Course. All do bess gemplun ob de Sous war dar to see him; an’ dey war all his frien’s. Yes, sah! an’ when he run agin dat great,crack horse in de Norf, all de whole Sous beton Black Eagle. Now he hears dis missabul ole rat-catcher call him ‘ carrion!’ I tell yuh, childun, his heart is broke!” Indeed, the boys, too, fancied that the poor old horse followed Sanders with his eves, as a man might, when his vulgar abuse wss loudest. “ I spect he feels pretty much as that lion in the story did when the ass kicked him,” Joe Furlong said. Whether the horse understood or not, there could be no doubt that, old skeleton as he was, there was a real pride and intelligence in his eyes. They were certainly different from the eyes of any other animal the boys had ever knoyn. Dick, who had just put on his first trousers, chose to make Black Eagle his principal companion. He almost lived in the horse’s stall. He could take any liberties with the old racer, who would scarcelj allow Point to touch him—crawling even over his back, sliding down by his tail, and leading him, on warm after-, noons, out to the sunny meadow back of the stable, for a trot. Often the bony old beast and dirty, chubby Dick, would be found lying there together upon the grass, fast asleep. Point was delighted with the boy because of his friendship for the horse. “He am got de right name! He’s got his uncle’s blood. He knows de hosses, and de hosses knows him, at fus’ sight!” But Dick, unfortunately, was not an influential friend. Mr. Furlong left the affairs of the stable to Sanders, who moved Black Eagle from one stall to another, to make room for the new mare, or, as Point said, “dem low-bred Canadian ponies,” until bis place was next the door, in a draughty, damp stall. Many a time, too, his mpply of oats was but scanty, Dick brought out many a lump of sugar to his friend, but he fancied that, as winter came on, his eye grew duller, and that he paid little heed to him. Dick was sure that the mare, and the cow, and every other ordinary brute about the premises, showed their contempt for the horse, and that he felt it It was Point, of course, ‘ who gave the idea to the boy. “ Look at that duck, now, a-quackln’ ’bout his heels, bitin’ ob ’em! She's tellin’ him he isn’t worf he’s salt. De dogs wallops deir fails in his face. Dey hears Sanders talk, yuh see. Oh, dey’s mighty cute, 1 tell yuh! Dat are donkey now’s laughin’ an’ brayin’ alongside ob him! G’lang wid yuh!” with a whack of his stick across the mule’s lego. ” You’ve §ot to know yonr betters! You’re nuffln ut a niggsh ob a brute, anyhow!” . But Black Eagle stood in his exposed stall, day after day, with drooped head and dimmed eye. He ate little. His wrinkled skin grew feverish. At times he chafed feebly against the bars, striving to see outside of the stable to the open field beyond. It needed but little fancy to suppose that the old racer knew that' death was dear, and longed for a breath of freedom. “ What he wants Is to be on de course once more, fbh he dies,” said Point. ” Neber wur a hoes dat had de speerit dat

horse hab, aahl I mind when he walkde course alone at New Orleans. I held him by de rein, an’ walk roan’ wid him, bery slow. I wur in full ihine myself dat day —ecarlet cap an’ jacket—l tell you. An’ de bands a-playin', de 'people shoutin’ an’ de ladies a-wavin’ dar ban’s, all fob Black Eaglet An’ his head war up, an’ he sets his foot down soft, like a lady, his bright eyes goin’ from dis side to dat. Lor, sah, he Itnowed, jes’ as well as a min “ An’ de race he won next year—l neber tole you, did IT He cut his fetlock at de start, an’ one foot hnng helpless; but he went on, neber mindin’, an’ he come In to ae stand like a flash ob ltghtntn’!—his speerit was so up, yuh see—an’ den be fell down flat; an* dar war de tracks ob blood clar roun’ de course. “He ’members dese tings now. sah, when de donkey, and Sanders, and de oder beasts is castiL’ contempt at him.” Owing, perhaps, to these discourses of Point’s, it came to be a settled thing in Dick’s mind, that he and Black Eagle ought to cut all leading-strings, and together go out into the world. So, one bleak December day, when the sides of the stable were sheeted with dripping ice, and the snow lay banked up in the corners of the yard, finding the coast clear, Dick managed to put the hridle on the old horse. He led him out of the gate and mounted him.

Black Eagle turned a look of grave inquiry toward the fat little monkey perched upon his back, and then walked slowly and cautiously down the hill. But inis did not suit Master Dick. He tugged at the reins, shouted, and, finally, breaking a branch from a thorn-bush that was near at hand, he laid it on to the poor old hide. The horse quickened his pace, looking back as if he was amused at the boy. Finally, be "broke into a slow trot. Dick yelled with delight. Sticking like a burr to Black Eagle’s bony old back, be thumped, kicked and struck him with the stick; but Black Eagle would not move a leg the faster. He jogged on slowly as any obstinate donkey. He knew what was good lor Dick quite as well as did the housekeeper, who was now searching the house for the young rogue. Dick continued his journey for at least an hour. He was then about five miles from home, In a lonely road which wound up the South Mountain. His ride had given him an appetite; he was really feeling Lungry. Looking around, he caught sight of some bushes such as he had found chinquapins on a few months before. The snow did not look very promising for chinquapins, nor was he quite sure it was the season for them; but he thought it might be worth while to look at those bushes more closely. So he slid off the horse—easily enough —but the trouble was, that he could not stop sliding. The ground was covered with ice and drifted snow. On the right, the hill rose, thickly wooded. Upon the left was a perpendicular precipice of fifty feet, with a creek at the bottom, which was covered with thin ice. The bushes grew along the edge of this precipice, niding it from view. It was to them that poor little Dick had turned. The horse stood were the child had left him, as (Bough he had tjie ague, and thinking, no doubt, that even the cold stable was a comfortable place compared with this bleak hillside. Suddenly, he heard a crash among the frozen bushes, and a cry. Then he looked about him, and saw that Dick was gone. Cautiously testing the ground at each step, the old horse approached the edge of the precioice and looked over. There was Dick’s fat face a lew feet below him, turned up, a very white little face just then. The child had fallen over the edge of the ravine into the thick bushes that stood below. The brittle stems had bent beneath his weight. It seemed as if they could not support him many minutes. Below was a sheer descent into the frozen creek. Black Eagle, with his fore feet planted on the edge of the cliff, tried to reach Dick with his teeth. The old fellow stretched his neck to the utmost, but could not reach the boy by at least three feet. He tried again, and Dick stretched up his hands to grasp his mane as it hung down, but could not reach it. Then the old racer turned and seemed to measure with his eyes the distance between him and home. He looked at Dick, telling him—in his way, i have no doubt —to hold on until he could come back, and the next moment, the boy heard the beat of his hoofs on the rough, snowfrozen road. Dick called wildly aftor him, but as he raised his head, the slight motion made his brittle bed .'rack and sink beneath him. For the first few rods, Black Eagle’s gait was a careful one. Then, when he reached better ground, it was quickened; but the old horse puffed in a few minutes like a cart-horse forced into a run. It was bitter cold. The solitary mountains, the great gray snow-clouds, the dreadful silence cf the woods, were so different from the stable, that ho was dazed. But his senses soon cauie to him. It really seemed as if he understood it all. There was Dick, whom he loved better than anybody else living, in deadly peril. He would die unless he could bring help.

Black Eagle looked down the long slope of the road. There was at the moment not a living creature on it. His eye began to kindle. I tbink he remembered then some race that he had run long ago —the stroke of the bell as he started, the terrible strain, the flashing by of the massed faces, the shouts, the triumph! The dHTHSErow trembled -, hisears pricked up; the strength of old time ran like flame through his veins, and, after one or two staggering bounds, he was off! Down the road, through the snow-cov-ered swamp, across the wooden bridge, into the highway again, with that long, loping stride which bad brought him m winner against the swiftest horses in the country. Bat he is old now. It was but the vigor of a dream, which might fail at any moment. He was but a poor, dying brute, running a race against death, aud, in some dull way, he knew it. He passed through the village, his tread falling noiselessly on the deep snow. The windows of the houses were closed, and the smoke arose from the slaked fires drowsily into ti e cold gray sky. It would be of no uso to stop tnere; those people would not understand, at least not for a long time, and the loss of a minute might cost Dick’s life. ' One or two men who were closing their barns for the night, saw him pass like a flying shadow. A traveler, out on the road, jogging into the village, saw, as he fancied, a black horse flit by him, its feet scarcely touching the ground. Its strides wore gigantic. Its ears lay back on its neck, the foam flew from Its lips, its eyes blazed. ” It might be the ghost of Black Eagle,” said the traveler, who had seen that great racer in his youth. At Dick’s own home there was by this time a dreadful outcry and search for the lost boy. His-father, brother, everybody, were out hunting for him. Even old Sanders had forgotten to scold, and with shaking hands, was sounding the well, down which he insisted that Dick had fallen. Mr. Fnrlongcame into the yard. " Baddie the mare,” said he, hying to speak calmly. “ I will ride to the village. He may have wandered over there.” The yard was full of people, old Point standing at the gate, when a thundering clatter resounded from the stone pavement without. The next instant Black Eagle stood among them, flecked with foam, his nostrils red with blood, his eyes vainly striving to speak. There was a breathless pause. Then Point yelled:

“ De Lord He’s put de bref of life back into dehorn! He knowa wbah Dick lei” With one bound Point threw himself on to Black ‘Eagle’s back, aid, with the old fellow clinging to hiqt like a cat, the horse darted back down the road he had come. They were speedily followed by Mr. Furlong and everybody who could find anything to ride. Point reached the boy lust in time to save him. The bushes had given way and broken steadily during the few minutes that the horse had been gone. If the desperate Journey had needed but a short time longer, it would have been too late. The old courser had indeed raced against death, and won. Black Eagle is living yet. If you go into that part of Virginia you will be sure to hear of him, and of the sumptuous stable which Mr. Furlong has since built for him. He lives there royally, with Point and Dick as his Prime Ministers — the one creature on the farm which everybody delights to honor. Every stranger that comes to the country-side is brought to see him, and Sanders and Point tell the story of his wonderful ride, and of hid former triumph, each of the old men trying to outdo the other, until the history has grown almost too large for belief. However, we have received the facts, and give them to you as Dick himself tells them.— Youth's Companion.

PERSONAL AND LITERARY.

—The house where William H. Seward was bom, in Florida, N. Y., is occupied by a fashionable dressmaker. It is old, but is well preserved. —Miss Paran Stevens, daughter of the rich hotel keeper, is to marry the heir of Viscount Hawardeu, who is both a Peer and an Irish Baronet. —James Lenox, of New York City, is called the most liberal man in the world. For nearly forty years he has given away his surplus income, which Las always been large. —Rev. George Allen, of Worcester, Mass., now in his eigbtv-sixth year, states that he has never been laid upon his back or deprived of a meal by means of sickness, and has never had the headache. —The Albany Argus learns from a private letter that “ Mr. Tilden has received much benefit from the ocean voyage, and tbat he looks and feels in better health than at any time within the last three or four yearb.” —Friends of the two say that on account of the embarrassment in business of Francis Moulton, his old associate, Theodore Tilton has offered to advance him several thousand dollars for an indefinite period, without security. —The Rev. Phillips Brooks says that a backwoodsman on hearing Bishop Mead, of the Protestant Episcopal Church, preach a sermon in a iron tier chnrch without a manuscript, said: “He is the first of them fine fellers that I have ever seen who could shoot without a rest.”

—Mr. Bigger, the traveling American in France who alluded to President MacMahon as an ass, and was put into jail for his pains, has probably come to the conclusion by this time tnat he is mistaken in his animal. He had been looking upon the wine when it was white, and, seeing his own image reflected in, its limpid depths, he mistook himself for a brave military chieftain and a patriot. —Chicago Tribune. —Mr. John G. Whittier, in reply to an inquiry, has written a letter saying that the poem called the “ Hong of Vermonters,” which many persons have supposed to be oi the date of the Revolution, was composed by himself in 1833 or 1834 as a literary hoax. Its inspiration was drawn from reading the exciting history of Ethan Allen and his Green Mountain Bovs at a period when Mr. Whittier’s peace principles were the fruit of tradition rather than of conviction. —When Gen. Grant was President an eminent physician said to him: “Do you know, Mr. President, that strabismus is easily removed in these days of advanced surgical skill ?” “ What do you mean?” answered the President, in his abrupt, level wav, “do you mean that you want to straighten my wife’s eyes? They were as they are now when I married her, and I am satisfied with them justasthey are.” Also, wheu he first became President, some one delicately suggested to her that she would better have them operated upon. “No,” she said, placidly, “Ihave been able to make General Grant happy notwithstanding these crooked eyes, and I hope I shall be able to make President Grant equally happy.”— Chieago Tribune. —There is a bit of romance connected with the marriage of poor Tom Placide, whose remains were recently consigned to the earth. His wife was an early love wbcun he had not seen for forty years and who had been twice married and twice widowed in the meantime. She came to New York and stopped at the Union Place Hotel, and while there learned that Tom Placide was also in the house. A wellknown New York lady was with her when she learned it, who was an acquaintance of Placide’s also. “ Why, Tom and I are old sweethearts,” said Mrs. Davis, and the other lady told her that Placide was in straitened circumstances. “ Bend him to me, won’t you,” said Mrs. Davis, “ there is no reason why we shouldn’t spend the rest of our lives together. I have plenty money.” The pleasant message was taken to Placide, and the couple soon met and shortly afterward were married. The marriage, as was scarcely to have been expected under the circumstances, was an exceptionally happy one, and Mrs. Placide is stricken with sorrow at her husband’s death. — N. Y. Graphic.

Sermons in Coal.

Some few years ago, two or three gentlemen went from London to Birmingham to deliver a course of lectures on Infidelity, and to prove that men were better without religion than with it. Amongst the rest of the workingmen that went to hear them were two miners, who were members ot the Wesleyan Society, and very regular in their attendance at the chapel services and meetings. Having listened attentively to the arguments of. the lecturers, these two men came to the conclusion that what the gentlemen said was very true, and both of them agreed to give up religion and have no more to do with it. About twelve months afterward another course of lectures on the same subject was announced at the same place, but this time only one of these two men Dut in an appearance. At the close of the first lecture, this man stepped up to the lecturer and asked him if he could have a woid with him. Hereplied:” Certainly.’’ The man said: " You remetrber, sir, coming down here twelve months ago. and giving a course of lectured F* The lecturer repHwl: “Perfectly.” “Well,sir,” said the man, “Jem and me, that was my mate, came to hear yon, and we thought that what you said was very true, so we both gave up religion.” “ Good,” replied the lecturer; “ 1 am very pleased to hear it; and you felt very much better, ,did you notf" “ Well, sir,” said the man, “ just hold hard a bit, and let me have my say out. We got on all very well until about six months ago, when Jem and me was working together lb the mine, blasting the coal, when a great lump of coal of about half a ton weight fell on Jem, on the lower part or his body, and crushed him; and what do you think he began to cry out when the lump of coal was on Him V' “ I don’t know,” replied the lecturer “ Why, sir,” said the man, “he began to halloa out, * O, Lord Jesus! O.Lord Jesus! have mercy upon my poor soul!’ Now, sir, yonr religion may be all very well when a man is all right aqd square, but when be gets a lump of coal on him it makes him sing, out.” —London City Mimum Magazine.

HOME, FARM AND GARDEN.

—ls weeds are flowed to stand until the areds ripen, do not plow them under. Burn them.— Btate Register. —Face Wmplea.—Eschew very salt, rich or frofrfn food, and take a dose of magnesia occasionally. Also wash the face occasionally with diluted cologne water.— i Moore's Rural. —Laplanders for Breakfast.—Three eggs, three cups sweet milk, one spoonful or melted butter, three cups of flour, a little aalt. Beat well together and bake in Iron molds. —Home Cook Book. —Cabbage and Bauwge.—Cut the cabbage very min, put it into the stewpan with a small piece of ham, an ounce of butter at the bottom, half a pint of broth, and a little vinegAr. Let it stew three hours. When it is tender add a little more broth, salt, pepper and a tablesnoonfnl of pounded sugar. Boil till the liquor is sufficiently wasted. Then put it into the dish and lay fried sausages on the top. —This matter of windows in stables is one of vastly mere importance than some farmers think. Animals, no more tt an vegetables, can thrive in the dark. Our long winters are sufficiently trying 1 to the constitutions of our farm-stock, under the best circumstances, and an animal upon which the sun scarcely shines at all for five or six months will oome out in the spring in a bad state of health, even though the feed and the ventilation and the temperature have been all right. The sun is the great life-giver.— VeriMnt Chronicle.

—Very nice, fine mats may bo made by stretching, common coffee sacking on a frame just the sizeof mat required (a good frame may be made of lath or split broom handle, nailed together at the corners); into this draw, with coarse crotchet needle, strips of any material, delaine, cloth, prints, etc.; cut bias or straight, about one inch to one and a half inches in width, and leave the goods standing in loops on the upper side; when finished take from frame, turn edges of sacking on wrong side, and line with another piece of sacking. —Plants set against walls and piazzas frequently suffer from want of water at this season, when other ground near them is quite wet. Draw away the soil around each plant so as to form a basin; fill it with a bucketful of water, allowing it time to soak gradually away, and when the surface has dried a little, draw in loosely the soil over it, and it will do without water for some weeks. This applies to all plants wanting water through the season. If water is merely poured on the surface, it is made more compact by the weight of water, and the hardei the soil becomes the easier it dries, and the result is the more water you give the more is wanted.— Gardeners' Monthly u —The Chicago Times gives some good advice, in the following paragraph, to those who are dissatisfied with their present locations and are seeking a change: It is wise to take into consideration what one would lose, as well as whathe would gain, in moving to a new and distant locality. If the proposed region does not produce grass, Indian corn and Irish potatoes, it is, as a rule, a good place to keep away from. Grass is the most profitable crop in this country, or in any country. It supports all kinds of stock, and is essential to the production of milk. Corn ranks next to grass in value. Potatoes are a very profitable crop, either for the market or for home consumption. If a man is to lose all these, and, in addition to them, apples, he must gain a great many th’ngs to render a change desirable. Generally the region which produces the largest variety of crops is tne best for the farmer. .An exclusively wheat-growing country maj be profitable for a series of years, but the land will he of less vaiue the longer it is cropped, for (here is nothing to restore fertility. Few portions of tne earth produce a larger number or more abundant crops than the Valley of the Mississippi, ana the farmer who Is discontented here will probably be uneasy anywhere.

What Next on the Farm?

The close of harvest, so far as the small grains are concerned, by no means ends the farm work for the year. It does, however, give a breathing spell after the hurry, in which farmers may profitably ask themselves, “What next?” This is really the beginning of the new agricultural year, for on the amount of wheat and winter grains sown next month will depend the farming operations of 1878. Through most of the country east of the Pacific Slope, there has been a good wheat crop. The European war assures good prices, and there is a strong temptation to sow more wheat than for several years past; everywhere we hearof preparations to this end. Thedanger is, that much of thle increased acreage will be poorly prepared, and that the resultant crop will be made at a loss. The lack of money to make farm improvements is lesponsible for the greater part of the failure in agricultural progress. To lose money on a crop, especially so important a crop as wheat, means business depression and the stagnation of industry for the whole country. It means the frittering away of advantages won by the hard ana successful toil of the past year—advantages which, properly used, might place the business of the country on the high road to returning prosperity. There is little doubt that in most sections farmers will make some money this year. It is important to almost everybody, as well as to themselves, that they should use this money wisely—that is, In the way to make it produce as much more as possible. Thus it may be made the entering wedge to open a way to better times. With a full view of the responsibilities in this matter, we advise:

Do not sow the largely-increased acreage of wheat that you had nearly concluded to do. It may be well enough to sow a little more than the average, for farmers are hopeful about wheat, and what is sown in hope is apt to be done well, provided too much is not attempted. The European war will also probably create an increased export demand, at fair prices, for another year. We ought to be ready to meet this demand. It Is better to do this by increasing the yield than by doubling the acres. It is not the gross sales of grain and other products which help the farmer’s purse. It is the profit that he makes above the cost of production. Fanners have done tjo much work which gave no profit within the last five or six years. It is this which makes the country poor to-day. ’ There has not been money enough made the last year to warrant speculative movements or any kind. It is not safe to put our little spare cash into any one enterprise. If It fails, we are as badly off as before, and must flounder about in the slough of hard times till Providence sends another good season, with good crops and prices to help us out. Try to do a little in the way of improvement in as many directions and at as slight an expense as possible. During the past few years we have all seen chances where a trifling outlay in money would have surely brought largely increased crops. We have refrained, because the Wfling amount of money could not be easily spared. Now that you have the cash, use it where it will bring the speediest return. Perhaps it Is a short underdrain that is needed to relieve surplus water from an otherwise rich field. Do it at once ; but leave your poorer land, or that which demands a heavy outlay, till you find that there are not other uses which will pay a better return. Try the commercial fertilizer —sparingly tft first, till you find those adapted to your soil. When you get a fertilizer that will repay twice its cost In the first crop, you may

UM it a» freoly M if tome am made you » present of it Too get 100 per cent over and above tbe cost within twelve months after purchasing. , n . Improve the breeds of your cattle, sheep and hogs. Above ail, make your homea beautiful and pleasant, the centers of all that can please the eye and gratify a refined taste. Pill your grounds with flowers and fruits. The life is more than meat and the body ir ore than ralmont. As we can live only once, we owe to ourselves to get as much rational enjoyment from life as possible. Borne spare money spent thus, will surelv be profitably usod It is not any man’s or woman’s right-saying nothing of duty —to live for money-getting. We like to see people making money because they can do so much with it; more now, when everything is so cheap, than ever before. If you have so little money that you can only spare enough to buy a peach or pear tre*or grapevine, buy those. They will grow while you are sleeping, and will, ere you know it, repay many-fold the trifling cost, which is required, during the growing season, to render them healthy and fruitful. —Rural New Yorker.

The Rights of Witnesses.

Both before and since the days of Mr. Sergeant Buzfuz, lawyers in court have, at least occasionally, asked witnesses impertinent and not pertinent questions; and especially when cross-examined, have these indispensable allies to the administration of justice seemed sometimes to possess no privileges which legal acumen and brow-beating considered worth respecting. The rights of witnesses at tbe present time fire fry'no arana either defined or secured; and many persons who sufler wrong in quiet rather than suffer long in the witness-box, or who know by smarting experience the misery of both conditions, will be pleased—perhaps even elated -to learn that a Mr. Bilton, a London lawyer, has been publicly rebuked for endeavoring to cast a stigma upon the reputation of a witness by asking him an impudent question. “’Have you ever been convicted of perjury?’’ inquired the lawyer.. “ Never,” warmly responded the witness “If there is not sufficient ground for it,” interposed tbe Judge, “ the question is a most improper one to put. Have you (turning to the witness) ever been charged with perjury?” “Never,” was the quick reply. “ I think,” resumed the Judge, with the faintest tinge of sarcasm in his tone, “ I think that an advocate should make some inquiry and have some proof before him before he puts such questions to a witness.” We think so, too. — N. Y. Evening Pott.

Computing Dressed Weight.

A few years since the following rule for computing the dressed weight by measurement ot cattle, hogs and sheep, went the rounds of the papers, viz.: “Ascertain the girth in inches back of the shoulders, and the length in Inches from the straight or square j?f the buttock to a point even with the shoulder-blade. Multiply the girth by the length and divide the product by 144 for the superficial feet, and then multiply the superficial teet by one of the following numbers, for animals of different girths, and the product will be the number of pounds of beef, pork or mutton in the four quarters of the animal. “ For cattle of a girth from five to seven feet allow twenty three rounds to the superficial foot; of a girth from seven to nine feet, allow thirty-one pounds; of a girth of three to five feet, allow sixteen pounds. For sheep, hogs, pigs or calves, etc., measuring less than three feet girth, allow eleven pounds to the superflcisl foot.” This, like many < ther items in the papers, was probably read and then forgotten ; but the near approach to accuracy of this rule is such as to entitle it to the especial consideration of persons who are in the habit of selling animals on foot, or of those who purchase in the same way; for bv a measurement of tbe animal ana a calculation by the above rule, a very near approximation to correctness is obtained. We have tested the rule and give results as obtained as an evidence of the correctness of the rule: 1. Measurement of ox: length 4 ft. 11 in.—s 9 in.; girth 6 ft. 10 in.—B3 in.; 82x 59—4838; divided by 144—33.5 superficial feet: 33 5x23—770.5 the computed pounds weight ; the actual weight was 775 pounds. 2. Measurement of steer: length 4 ft.— 48 in.; firirth 5 ft. 2 in—62 in.; 62x48 2976; divided by 144—20.6 superficial feet; 20.6x28—474, the computed pounds weight; the actual weight was 484J£ pounds! 3. Measurement of heifer: length 3 ft. 7 in.—43 in.; girth 5 ft. 8 in.—6s in.; 65x 43—2795; divided by 144—19 4 superficial feet; 19.4x23—446, the computed pounds; the actual weight was 450 pounds. 4. Measurement of cow: length 4 ft. 5 in.—sß in.; giith 4 ft. 8 in.—s 6 in.; 53x 56—2968; divided by 144—20.5; the girth being so near five feet the multiplier 23 was used; 20.5x23—471.5, the computed pounds; Jhe actual weight was 470 pounds. Without giving further measurements we give three other results: Measurement weight of heifer, 404 pounds; actual weight,4o6pounds. Measurement weightof pig, 225 pounds; actual weight, 229 pounds. Another pig, mess ured weight, 205 pounds; actual weight, 198 % pounds. This shows the rule to be worthy the farmer’s use.— Ohio Farmer.

The Fortunes of a Street Arab.

Every old resident of Kansas City remembers “ Limpey,” the pale-faced, emaciated little vagabond of two or three years ago. Four years ago “ Limpey” slept in hay-lofts, in cellars and empty freight cars, and when he was not “ out On the lay” either blacked boots or begged for food. “ Limpey” was under the ban of the police in this city, and had it not been for his crippled condition and con sumptive appearance he would have been sent to the Work-House as a vagrant. While be was a resident in this city he was a great pest to the police, as he was the leader of a most incorrigible gang of young hoodlums, who infested the fall fairs in the West and defied the detection of detectives or the efforts of the police to break up their gang. “ Limpey” went away in June, 1876. and was lost to sight and memory both until yesterday when he reappeared among his old acquaintances a man among men. and married to the girl of his choice “ Limpey,” or, as he now styles himself, Dennis Garrigban, came to this city among a party of little boys from the House of Refuge in New York, and was distributed with the rest to those who desired to adopt children. "Limpey,” being thin and lame, met with poor treatment, and was soon again a waif upon the streets. In June, 1876, “ Llmpejr” made his way to Denver, and from thence to Dead wood in the Black Hills, where he became interested with a party of the mountain miners, Joe and Aleck Cosgrove and Sanderson Miller, with whom he engaged as cook, becoming part owner in all their discoveries. they were remarkably lucky lasi summer, realizing between SBO,OOO and $40,000. of which "Limpey” received about $6,000, beside shares in various lodes located by Bis partners. He returned to Kansas City last Wednesday, to pay a debt of gratitude to a friend of the days of his poverty, an old woman who kept a den in the old Globe House on the levee, and afterward eked out a miserable existence with her little daughter in the old Butterfield Building on Grand avenue, who had been a mother to the refugee. He had never appealed to the old woman in

Vain whan he wanted either concealment from the police or shelter from the weather. In his prosperity Dennis did not for get old Mrs. Bteln ana her daughter, Mora than one loUer has reached them within the pastyear, bringing money and comfort. They changed their home from the sqnalid, poverty stricken rooms on Grand avenue to a small but respectable house on Oak, near Fourteenth street, where they remained a while, bat removed to rooms on South Main street. To cut the story short, " Limpey” came beck lest week well “ heeled,” and so changed In appearance that his old friends aid not know him. His lameness baa almoet entirely left him, and be weighs twice m much as when he left hero. He was married on Friday night to Miss Mary Stein, in the presence of a select party of friends. “Limpey” proposes to return to Deadwood with his yonng wife and bis moth-er-in-law. He is as modest with bis wealth as he was sadCy and troublesome in bis poverty. There is one feature about “ Limpey’s” actions which commends itself to notice—he did not forget tbetriend he found in the days of his adversity.— Kan tat City (Mo.) Tima. The San Francisco Chronicle tells some strange stories concerning the dishonest management of some of the mines in that State, which, though yielding largely of gold, are continually running behind. The thievery is prevalent In every department of the management, and seems to surpass anything before known in the history of such affairs. London increases in population at the rate of 48,000 a year.

~~ Trouble l» the Household. We would advise evufy'dHeTlrterceted not to buy Yeast or Baking Powders, loose or iu bulk. They are usually made by unsklllful pcrsoi s, and have frequently proven totally unfit for use. There is no guarantee or responsibility attached to loose powder. Doolst’b Ykast Powubk is always put up In cans, warranted lull weight and absolutely pure. Mothers, Mothers, Mothers. Don’t fail to procure Mbs. Winslow s Sooranto Stbup for all diseases of teething in children. It relieves the child from psin, cores wind colic, regulates the bowels, and, by giving relief and health to the child, gives rest to the mother. Kinosford’s Oswkoo Corn Starch Is a most delicate and healthful Summer-food for invalids and children. Many eminent physicians say it is eqnal to arrow-root. Hofmann’s Hop Pills for Teverand Ague. Thev cure at once and are s preventive.

f" NATURE’S REMEDY. BEY. 0. T. WALKER SAYS: Pbovidbxob. R. 1., ltt Thanbit Btrxxt. P I foelbomidto CJjtresswl th my ilgmitare the high value I place upon your VEUETINK. My family have used It for the fast two year*. In nerydtu debility It U Invaluable, and I recommend It to all who may need an invigorating, renorwlng^nU^^ Formerly Pastor of Bowdoln Square Church, Boston. _ . VlOrrtHg H SOLD by* AM- DRUCCIBTB. If you feel dull, drew.,, ueomuted, have frequent headache, mouth tas tea badly.poor appette. and tongue coated, yon are suffering fram torpid liver, or ** bniouaneti,** and nothing will cure von to speedily and permanently as to take Bivnovs r Live* Rmq* to* or Hxdioivs. PURELY VEGETABLE, and cine In the World! MJW t 9 ff.l V S.W An Effxctual Brx- 111 11 < |»| L r~R oiric for all disease* of i— ■—S' f the Liver, Stomach and wpMCwnK' 8 Regulate the liTer and Q CHILLS AND FEVER, WB* malarious feVERS. BOWEL COM- I.IJJIIM A I I.M PLAINTS, kestlkss- lltlCllJVllllKf JAUNDICE AND JpSgy BAD BREATHf Nothing la »o unplensant, nothing bo common, as bad breath, and In nearly every cate It cornea from the ttoniach, and can be ao easily corrected if yon will take Simeons' Livn Rxoclatob. Do not neglect so sore a remedy for tbla repulsive disorder. U will also Improve yonr Appetite, Complexion ad eneral on) j» rtlX g, Bow many suffer torture day after day, making life a burden and robbing existence of all pleasure, owing to the secret suffering from Piles. Vet relief It ready to the band of almoet any one who will use, systematical ly, tbe remedy that has permanently cared thousanoi Simmons'Livxn Rxcvlatob la No drastic, violent pnrge, but a gentle assistant to nature. COXSTITA TJOX / SHOULD not ba regarded aa a trifling ailment—ln fact nature demands tbe utmost regularity of tbe bowels, and any deviation from this demand paves the way •- often to serious danger. It la quite s* necessary to ramevetapure accwmnlanona from tbs bowels ts it Is to eat or sleep, and no health can be expected where a costive habit of body prevails. SICK HEADACHE l Tbit distressing affliction occurs most frequently. Tbe disturbance of tbe stomach, arising from the Imperfectly digested contents, canto* a severe pain In (be head, accompanied with disagreeable nausea, this Constitutes what Is popularly known at Sick Headache. for the relief of whleh Tabs Simmons Livxn ExaoLAZon on Midicinx. MANCr AOTUBID OMLY XT J. XL 4EILIN A CO., PHILADELPHIA. PA. Friw, $1.99. Sold xt All Dxuooxcre.

VSTIBU -|IID |M..e OLB A,e ULI.aUL JJ Go to the best, and prepare for a fsscluatlng business. tatilo acqwred. raying „ood salanr. Send atamp for Catalogue. C. L. Bbyant, Supt., Bufihlo, N. T. TEXAST RMA9BASTS .00 OTHERS desiring Information In regard to Arkansas and Texas—the soil, climate, water, timber and other atatlatlcel Information—together with Routes, Kates, Maps, etc., also Guide to Hot Springs. Arksnsas, will be promptly supplied with the same, raxx, by calling on or addressing H. H. MAULEY. Nor. vase, and Emigration Agent St. Louis, Iron Monntala and B. R. W. 19 4 Clmrk street, t'Mesys. TP3TIFST m~W C3* CS’* Parties bearing the above name will be interested to learn that a work la now In preparation giving tbe genealogy of the family In thla country from the middle of the seventeenth century toThe present tliM. All interested will confer a favor by commnnlcatlng with the publisher, RL'EUS B. KfiLLOGG. Gnxx* Bsv, Wisconsin, who will send, to any, circulars with tbe ouUlne of Info, .nation desired. Person* of other nsmes, with Kellogg anesatry, are particularly requested to write. JACKSON’S BEST position, for Its fine chewing qualities, the excellence your g ocer for thla. and see that eaoh ping bears oar blue strap trade mark with words jsi k-on'i Beat on It. Sold by all Jobber*. Send for asm pie to C. A. jAiwsriN * no. Maenfeetnrern. Petersburg, Va. tr paper* needlea 50c. •> ritvtlcklsra tSe, or 1 1«. £\ ra. *l/e« elry Zsc. postpaid f. r2V. The whole lot /A.. C/for 85c. Add's A.Gr»y.A!lda.ljiPorteCo.,lnd.^lC/ tr Vsnr Certeetty Saffsjlsd. _gf “ Eureka," the bed book yon ever rend, over 408 perns. Price 50 ct*, or three fcr te. Fancy edition, flue binding, gilt-edge leaves, 15c. Two j r it. jptet rca, artistically colored, only & cts. C. H. DAY; St Anne, IU. Toil Hi anil WtiiOTfi EDUCATION To fit themselves for the practical duties of llfo. should patronize tbe only inatliutlon In the West that I*conducted on the ACTUAL BUSIMCSS PLAN. For full Information address TOLEDO BUSINESS COLLEGE, - -•' • f. ■.. Toledo, Ohio.

COL LINS & CO'S J r ,c i^aaiuSt' /aT°»'CE. 0- ■ c -\C (1 p/?/ca~. ”r> water sr. nr,v v.:-,- c.. ■

setslcfw* »«**•.*- KoKss How**. W* I. I

SAW JAMAtCA 01.1 CHOL £ RA momok ! tills U mu* crt>u» complaint ant ui&olfect > ‘ CRAMPS AND WHIG change dfetTtok -,.,'f.t agaiiouof 1 ice and sweetened, forma a ml stare which, *C • M«§|l *< healthy, and refreshing SooUMff Bereragivh* ~•» equal. nvwMfffll arter'oacll moaL U ‘ *** *** Bold by all Wholesale MdiSMliijHWiiHHi Slid Dealer, In Medicine. Price » cents. Sample* free. Dealers should purchase OfteM£JMMlt|n blleotrlty FOR THE MILLION. AN ELEC* TRIC BATTEKY FOR COLLINS’ VOLTAIC PLASTER Is warranted, on the reputation of Dr. Collin*. Jlejtfr ventor, an old phye/eiso, to be plamMPM *»* world of medicine. The tmteajH the two greet m-m? t c.' e«ente^:._fa«fg»cHy^TOdteCT|Xt : i remedy to rank foremost among all c*T*Ult PgMiij pounds for all external Aches ami Palna. "ARE DOIN6 WONDERS.” ! L Mam. Week* dt Potter: Oenrrvmen,—Cou.mff ▼< TAIO Pr.ASTxaa are doing wonders. .They work KM magic, and those yon cent last are all tola and MH wanted. Please send me three dozen es sooc a« pea get this. Money enclosed herewith. Israel IhOTMI morrow n.gld. If possible. In ny^,^Avastt^MsMß No. FayetteMey 1, IS7». Notx. Mr. Palmer la tbe Poetmester of iNBRUMfe etle. end having become convinced of the grew of these PleMere by actual nee. be baa obtained test upon favorable terms and la selling large qnaatttwa. A medicine that thuerecommends Itself nadMlM highly commended. One Plaster sells doasM. v . Bold by aU druggists tor SB cents. lent on iswlffi *6. 25 cents for one. gL2Sfor six, or gutter twelve, carefully wrapped, and warranted perfect, by wml A POTTER. Proprietors. Boston. Hate. he^ere T^rer^e^ I lt?er A^., “. ,n^ drug Store in America yoo may obtain Its eq elusion*, putlt In yonr pocket and carry It with yo« te the world's end. If yon choose. Tarrut’s Effervescent Seltzer Aperient la simply the living fountain of heelth. in the termed a powder capable of being converted Into a babbling, flashing/«c nimile ot the liquid prodnci ot nature S one minute. Armed with fhi* antblote, all ellmalca and every atmospheric change may he faced without rear. A* a remedy In malarious fevers, stomach complaint,. Irregularities of the bowdg, nervous djwi dert. mental depression, headache, an overflow of hfle, dropsical allinenu, nausea and conatlpatlea. Uhat an equal. Sold by all druggists. V "

WILHP V FT® <U4p>?flseei^^| FEVERS A^UE Toyio.^ A Warranted Cure! G. K. FINLAY St CT-FOR BALE BT all BBPgQUW. s ' THE northern-inoiaha IgWHfiMWiiagaS VmLHARAIAO. IMwIAHA. School tbe entire year. Undents can eaUrMl I lime, aeleci their own stattan andAdqreqrWtl^^HM at they desire. F-mvps uiTnSaa or pTteat-J—----?hs“i? h ,to e t? ,CC “ i ®" all J , . one leea tftssss J generally go in packs like pertmonS^* D^B are tko control Eoo to ELsrects wbat tbe members ore sent bee to-day and wbo toFnli Tenr lt f‘ ftces ftrc to broken vember isiA well founded suspicion mer Term. a ve a general depot tor EV-be western part of tbe Kb Hacndablo Rebuke. Hu ic papers including the »re engaged in the MOBVCsupon the probable - - - - THE “POW.TBY WBBL#’’ The leading Amerl- _ OB trial.oaly»cta. can Magazine of its AS Ml : ° r S moa. (12 thi» class. An elegantly Ml mos In Illustrated Monthly. 187J.)TCcU.W(«W,f» a year. Always JKmIIx yeer. Witt tbeje f Oih. practical, orlg. ptetMCT, to Inal and Instructive. annualsunsevisete. O MEiTS Button Fastener." with poach. Large preate. t culara. W. L. Prana, Bole Mfr.,TW KEMPER HALL, “SSgH A Boarding School *»T advantages at low Bgsret TdrmogmffUßimP^ S3sQiar^^S3Sß3H QfH NIACNETIC TIWEPIICf.Me« *5 72 SSmta AOOULTE^ifiuBS^i dgiml lump for cutulogufi. VAN A tO„ CIIWIK i . UfANTED.^SS»^|| Tl Address Queen a* Lamp g'Wta. (arijHßH i55gj77 >sl» >2O for 2. Wa»hta£ J Boeto^'jiSS? $66 ijmflt nSriUmftS suns sl2 StfSRJ f fre J ?-"TUU^SfcS.. W % so MIXEDCARDB^wIth earns cent stamp. J. MINKLEK «W. A N.K. .. »■ Tv «■« ir—riTO vsseiaiMi s*sii3kr'"~““iTT