Rensselaer Union, Volume 11, Number 44, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 17 July 1879 — Page 3

Tie Rensselaer Union. * RENSSELAER, . . INDIANA-

WIfERE TEE BEAOKBIRD SISU'S. U»*n the qniot country road, before you reach _ the lofty rldae. Where the biron tree, first awaltenoa to the morning's low breath, swines, I «>ft-timen sit in ailenoe on the small moss-cov-ered bridge, ... Wear the little shady nook where the blackbird sings. There the spreading trees meet o'ormo.and 1 hear no harsh voioe calling, Whilst his sweetness to my fancy’s dream a sacred feeling brings. As it mingles with the rippling of the brook o’er pebbles falling In the little shady nook where tho blackbird v-o sings. There the ivy climbs the highest of tho lofty trees beside me. And the bluebell like a carpet in the early summer springs; In the thorn I need but clamber, and the snowy bloom would hide me In the little shady nook where the blackbird sings. There the trout, his supper seeking, in the sunny beam is leaping. And the pool is brought to lifo again in many glistening rings, IVhcn the day seems growing fainter, and the shadows onward creeping, In the little shady nook where the blackbird singH. $ There the swallows dart llko spirits underneath the narrow arches, And tho air a sweetened perfume liko the almond round mb dings. And I dream of holy quiet as 1 watch the feathery larches In the little shady nook whero the blackbird sings. O, if I could only tell you what unbroken heartfelt pleasure r Ever waits me in this spot, to which my thought so fondly clings. You would follow me, nor wonder 'tis my only pleasant leisure. By the little shady nook where tho blackbird sings. —London Society,

IMPROMPTU FIRE-WORKS.

“Are you jfry uncle Robert?" saida sweet, childish voice. And stopping the cheerful whistle that always accompanied his work, and looking up from the plane that was loudly lisping as it rapidly skimmed along the board ho was planing, Richard Foster saw, standing in the door of his workshop a bright June sunbeam resting on her pretty little fair-haired girl. Lost in astonishment, he did not answer the child, but gazed at her with wide-opened ej es. She had appeared so suddenly and quietly, and, moreover, she was so unlike tho roundfaced, rosy-cheeked, white-haired, chubby little ones of his native village —so fair, so fragile, with a strango, yearning look in her large violet-blue eyes, and a tint of purest gold on the long flowing hair that fell about her small delicate lace—that she seemed to belong to an entirely different race. “Are you my uncle Robert?” she repeated, coming a step pr two into the shop. “No, I’m not, baby; I wish I were,” answered the cheery young fellow, recovering from his surprise; for he dearly loved children, and this child touched some chord in his heart that had never been touched before. “My name’s not ‘Baby;’ it’s Eva,” said the child, shaking the hair back from her face, and regarding him with a serious look. “And mamma’s name is Eva, too.” And then, with a little sigh: “I fought perhaps you was him.” “What made you thjnk so, baby—l mean Eva?” asked the young man, with a pleasant smile, tossing his plane aside, and sitting down on a huge block of wood that stood near. “You look like him”—speaking with quaint preciseness. “He went away when I was a very little girl— I’m ’most five now—but I ’member him. He had a face like you, a nice laughing face; but ” —glancing at the shirt-sleeves—“ he wore a coat, and lie used to give me candies for kisses — two candies for one kiss; and mamma cries because ho does not come back and take us away with him.” The dinner bell raug loud and long in the cottage adjoining. The young carpenter mechanically rose to his feet, and then deliberately sat down again, as he said, with a tender look in his honest brown eyes,-“l’m sorry mamma cries.” “ Yes; she cries"—in alowered voice, and, completely won by the kind look, coming to his side, and putting her mite of a hand confidingly in hiS—- “ bocauso papa has gone up there” (pointing to the sky). “I don’t ’member him; ’twas long, long, long ago; and Uncle Robert don’t come back; and she’s a beggar!”—this last remark evidently quotod, with a dramatic little

gesture. Again the dinner bell rang violently. “ VVijyi you tell mo where you live, Eva?’’ asked Dick, paying no attention to the summons; but before the child could reply, a stout, buxom, black-eyed girl flew Into the shop from the rear door, and a slight, graceful, fair-haired woman came in at the Other. “ Dick, why on earth don’t you come to dinner?” almost yelled the buxom girl; and, “Eva, my darling, what are you doing here?” cried the pretty woman... “1 fought he was my uncle Robert,” said the child, smiling at the young workman as she dropped his hand and wont toward her mother. “ Be?" exclaimed tho pretty woman, searoelyglanciugat him. ..." W.hy, he” —with a light laugh, and a slight inflection of scorn, or something very likeit, inher voice—" he’s a carpenter." And catching the child in her arms, she disappeared as suddenly as she had arrived. “ Goodness gracious sakes alivo!” said Dick’s brown-faced, red-chceked sister, with not- an ihflection, but a whole volume of scorn in her voice. “■A. carpenter,!, indeed! And what is ' she?" “ What is she?” repeated Dick. “Oh, come along to dinner, Dick, and don’t bother. Tm hungry, if you ain’t”—giving him a by no moans gentle pull. “Stopa moment, Lib”—jerking away from her—“ that’s a good girl; and Mil me all about it.” “ All about it? Pshaw! you men aro all alike.® All about her, you moan. Do you think she’s pretty?” - “ WeU.jUly about her, then,” said Dick, utterly ignoring the question. “Mother’ll be hopping mad, and the victuals’ll be stone-cola, but I s’pose I’d better hurry and tell you what I know at once, or you’ll be pestering the life .out of me till I dp. She’s a widow—‘Mrs. Leonard Doming," M. D,,' that is, Mr. Leonard Doming was ‘M. D.;’ and she came here two days ago to live in the brick cottage round the corner with her aunt, old Mrs. Paulding, who is always talking of * better clays, T *sHd bb'asufig"that nr’ere never has been a mechanic in her family, And yet ahe’s as poor as a church mouse, and’hotebe knows how she manages to live.’*'-

“Go on, Lib’’—as she stops to take breath. “There goes the bell again!” turning toward the door. “ You shall not stir a step until you finish your story,” says l)iok, detaining her with firm but gentle foroe. “Oh, Richard Foster, what a tease you are! and only yesterday you was palling me' a gossip, and saying how wdmen’s tongues did run on, and—oh!” (with a shrill scream), ** what a pinch, you tormenting thing! Well, her husband'was a doctor, ana went off to some placo or other when they’d boon married a year or so, and caught the yellow fever and died, and left her nothing bpt his ‘M. D.’ And she’s as poor as old lady Paulding, and just as proud; and, oh, Dick, the funniest thing—she’s filled one of her aunt’s front windows with wax llowcrs for sale, just as though any one in this place, would buy wax flowers! Come along.” 1 “ Lib, I think wax flowers are beautiful"—ho had never thought of them in his lifo before, and in fact knew nothing about them—“and I wish you’d set the other folks a good example, and buy a lot of them from—Mrs. Deming, for our parlor mantel;” and he thrust a bill into her hand. “ Dick Foster, aye you crazy P Wax flowers, and mother wanting a new cook-stove this minute!—the old one’s falling into pieces—and I haven’t—” “ A stitch to your back.” says Dick, smiling. “You never'have. But buy tho flowers, Lib, dear, and mother shall have a new stove and you a new dress before tho week’s out. I’ll work nights.” “But, Dick—” But Dick had rushed away at a fourth and most furious ringing of the bell, and she was fain to follow without another word. Day after day Dick Foster sot his shop door wide open, and replenished the pretty bonbon box that was hidden away behind some tools on a shelf in the corner, in hopes that he might some day again raise his head from his work and see the fair-haired child standing before him. But day after day went by, and June merged into July, and she came no more. The wax flowers had been bought a few days after Dick had so suddenly discovered how much he admired them, and wonderful imitations of nature they proved to be, but, alas, wanting. nature’s wonderful fragrance; and they stood between tho china dog and cat that Dick remembered from his earliest boyhood, on the high old-fashioned wboden mantel in tho low-ccilinged sunny parlor. Lib had come back from purchasing them with a quick step and a snap in her black eyes, and had immediately—as Dick knew she would the moment ho caught sight of her—rushed into the shop to—as she was wont to express it —“ free her mind.” “ There, I hope you’re satisfied,” she begin, with a toss of her head, putting the vasto of lilies and roses into his hand; “ but / think you’d better saved your money. Not but what they’re pretty enough, and I don’t see how she makes ’em; I couldn’t. But of all the stuck-up things / ever saw, she’s the worst. ‘ Your little girl thinks your brother looks like my brother,’ says I, trying to make myself agreeable. ‘Does he? I’m sure 1 don’t know; I didn’t look at him. My brother is a very handsome man, and an „ .artist. We” were a family of artists, although my share of talent took a very lowly form,’ says she, handing me the vase —she called it ‘ parse.’ ‘ Good-after-noon.’” To all of which Dick replied not a word, but turned away and sawed like mad, whichT so offended Miss Elizabeth Foster that Bhe never referred to the pretty widow again until the afternOon of the 3d of July, when, with a gleam of mischief in her face, she burst out at the supper table: “ Oh, Dick, I’ve a message for you. I met 4 Miss Eva,’ as tho little servant-girl calls her. They say that girl serves Mrs. Deming for love; wish I could get people to serve me for that. • Please tell the—the shavings man,’ said Miss Eva, ‘that I wanted to come again, but mamma won’t let mo.’ And. oh, Dick, if they haven’t put lire-works tor sale in the other parlor window! Waxllowers and lire-works! Ain’t it f unny P” But judging from- Dick’s clouded brow and closely-set lips, Dick thought it any thing but funny; and Lib, wisely dropping the subject, devoted herself to mother’s soft gingerbread with undivided attention. And the cloud still lingered pn tho young carpenter’s brow as he, pail in hand, just after supper, bent his steps toward the old well that stood a few feet beyond the brick cottage. Ho had developed an extraordinary fondness for tho water of tills well; it seemed as though nothing else could quench his thirst, albeit until a few weeks ago he had been perfectly satisfied with the oold-as-ice, clear-as-crystal water drawn from the well in his mother’s garden. As he drew near the isolated cottage

he saw the fire-works in the window, and his heart came up in Ins throat. “So poor, so proud, so lovely,” he thought. “I’ll buy them all, to-mor-row.” An (hat this moment the pretty woman stepped out on the old-fash-ioned porch, and Dick turned and fled. a few hours after Dick was again seized with a terrible thirst—a thirst that he was firmly convinced could only be assuaged by a draught from the brick cottage well, and again, pail in hand, he set out, this time to reach the place of destination and begin slowly to return. It was ten o’clock. In the cottage all was silence and darkness. Dick paused as he reached it, and leaned against the maple infrontof the door and gazed at the shutterless windows, where tho wax flowers ‘and fireworks entreated, “Come buy me.” And as he gazed, smash went a pane of glass, and a blue-light shot past him and fell with a prolonged hiss upon the ground. Then in quick succession came another and another. Then fizz! bang! pop! pop! fizz! bang! and the pyrotechnic articles were shooting about in every direction, and the white muslin curtains were in. fliujms. * lu a moment the strong young fellpw had burst open the door, throwing the pail of water upon the crackling fireworks, torn down the blazing curtains, and stamped out the fire. And in another moment some due in a long white robe, her golden .hair silvered by tho moonlight, came flying out of the Bpom’just beyond, and flinging her arms about him, cried: “Oh! dear brother, Robert, you have come back at last. -But—but”—looking about her in a bdwihlered manner—“ What has happened?”,^ “Dm not brother Robert,” said Diek; blit he didn’t loosen tho clinging arms, as it bchqoved him to do, when he made the dec'thfffion. “I’m—t&e—the shavings man,, aud your window has been on Are. Fortjqpmely, I was passing—” But he got no further, for the whiterobed figure uttered a little shriek, and

fled with preeipltanoy as old Mrs. Paulding entered the room from the other door, her befit bonnet perohed on her hoad, and her night-cap dangling by its strings abound her neck, a silver tea-pot in one hand, and her favorite mat, grasped by the throat, in the other, on a queer little run, totally unlike her usual dignified tread. ■ To her did Dick explain the cause of the wet catpet and tho smoke-begrimed walls, and amid her profuse thanks for his timely help, was taking * his leave, when Mrs. Doming* lamp in hand, again made her appearance—this time in suitable evening dress. “Oh, aunt, what an escape!” she began, setting the lamp on the table; “ and to think I nover awoke until the very last, I was so tired; and Eva has slept through it all. We might have been burned in our beds.” And then, turning to Dick, she said, her swoet voice trembling in spite of her great effort to maintain her composure, “I beg your pardon for thp_ absurd mistake I made; but I was so bewildered, and only half awake, and I’d been dreaming of my brothor, whom you”— looking him full in the face— 44 resemble very much.” And breaking offsuddenly, her voice trembling still more, “ How can wo ever thank yon, Mr.-” 44 Dick Foster, the carpenter,” said Dick, with as much dignity as though he had said “doetdr” or “ artist.” “ —Mr. Foster,” her lips quivering and her fair cheeks flushing red, and she held out to him her dainty hand. Dick flushed as rosy red as she, but made no movement toward her. His right hand hanging listlessly at his side, his hat held in his left, he stood in silence as though uncertain what to “Do you refuse to shake hands with me?” she asked, a look of pained surprise flitting across her lovely face. “ Why, God bless us! he can’t,” screamed the old lady; 44 his poor hand is dreadfully burned.’’ And she hastened away in search of old linen and sweet-oil. . . A Bj JW

And it was—his working hand —terribly burned; but when Dick went home that night he scarcely fel tthe pain tor the momory of two violet eyes shining through tears, and a sweet Vbice saying, “Oh, I’m so very, very sorry—so very, very sorry!” The next morning Mrs. Foster had just cleared away the breakfast things and gone into the sitting-room, where Dick sat, installed in the only easy chair the house possessed, his right hand enveloped in bandages, a book in his left, and the vase" of wax flowers on the table before him, when there came a gentle knock at the street door. The good mother, opening it, beheld a pretty blue-eyed woman, holding a pretty blue-eyed little girl, standing upon the threshold, “ Oh, it’s you, Mrs. Deming,” said the old lady, bridling, and fluttering her cap ribbons. “Good morning, ma’am.” “ Your son,” said the young widow, with a hesitation strangely foreign to her—“ is he better? Has he suffered much through the night?” “ His sufferings can be of no consequence to you, ma’am,” returned the old lady, sharply, in spite of a warning 44 Mother!” from the room she had just left. “ He’s only a mechanic, ma’am.” “ He’s a noble fellow!” exclaimed Mrs. Deming, seizing the wrinkled, toil-roughened hand that was raised as though to wave her away: “ and, ohl please don’t be cross to me. I haven’t slept all night thinking of him.” Mrs. Foster’s face began to relax, and the stern look completely faded away When little Eva, looking up with pure, beautiful, beseeching eyes, entreated, ‘‘Don’t be cross to poor mamma.” =~" “Well, I suppose the fire warn’t your fault,” she said; “though how them fire-works exploded passes my comprehension. There must have been some powerful carelessness somewhere; and it’s mv opinion that folks that doesn’t understand things should let ’em alone; and his hand’s very bad indeed; and he won’t be able to work for a month, just as he had the most industrious fit I ever*know’d him to have—though a lazy boy he never was—and was earning lots of -money. And his hand’ll have to be dressed night and morning, and take about au hour each ■time— ‘ “Ob, then 1 can be-of use!” cried the pretty widow, a bright smile breaking over hor face. “I am a capital nurse. Let me come every day and dress the wounded hand. Your time, I know, ifi precious; and, it is tho least I can do, for it was in mj* service—l mean my aunt’s—that it was wounded.” “Well, that’s clover, and I’m obleeged to you; but me and Lib —’’ “Mother!” from the parlor.

“Well, Richard?” “I shall be only too glad to accept Mts. Deming’s kind offer;” and Mrs. Deming went in. Three weeks had gone by, and the hand was nearly well. “1 never saw anything heal so quickly,” soliloquized Diek, one pleasant, fragrant morning, in a tone that implied that he wished it wouldn’t. “Shecan’t come here but a day or two longer, God bless her!—l don’t really need her now, .though I protend I do—and then I’ll be nothing to her but Dick, the carpenter, again.” “ Dick,” chirped a bird-like voice, “ mamma’s got a letter from Uncle .Robert. I run in to tell you,” tle Eva danced into the room. “ Great heavens!” thought Dick, turning pale, “he’s coming to take her away;” and a moment after Mrs. Deming came in with the letter in her hand. “ Are you worse this morning?” she asked, anxiously, looking at the young fellow’s pale face. “Yes, much worse,” he answered, dryly. “Eva tells me you have a lete r from your brother.” “ I have—at last, and he’s in Paris, and does not expect to return to this country for many years. He has married a beautiful French girl, and, I fear, has almost forgotten me.” “ Your brother married and forgotten you?” burst in Lib, poking her head in at the door. “ Well, that’s nothing strange. Brothers will marry and forget sistqrs till the end of time;” and calling to Eva to obiqp and see the newly-hatched chickens, away she went again. “ And personally I resemble him, that is, I-suppose, as much as a mechanic could resemble an artist,” said Dick, with a feeble attempt at sarcasm; “but there the resemblance must end. I never could have forgotten you." ~"" And then they* are both spent for a few moments, Dick breaking the silence at last. “I am very sorry for your disappointment You had hoped to leave this humdrum place, Where there is n6' one you could care for.” “No one I qould care for,” she re-peated,-«loWry. “I am not so sure of tiat; but l am sure of one thing, Rich-

and that is that 1 do not need your sympathy. I have learned to love this pretty, miiet plaoe—’ u “You have?” shouted Dick. “Oh, i| I were not fi poor carpenter—if 1 were an artist, ft phvsioian, a lawyer, juiything professional—Pd ask yon to try and learn to love me, and stay here forever.” “Try to learn to love you! Why, Dick, you dear, splendid, darling old goose, don’t you know I’ve loved you ever since tho night of tho impromptu fire-works?" “My blessed darling!" cried Dick, catching nor in his arms and kissing her sweet lips. 44 Goodness gracious sake* alive!" said Lib, appearing at tho door again. "My brother’s going to be married, too!”— Harper's Weekly.

HOME, FARM AND GARDEN.

—ln planting late cabbages on potato ground there is no need to plow the whole area before planting. Plow open furrows, three feet from center to center, and mark out by cross fnrrows two feet apart. Drop a forkful of manure at each crossing, close the furrows over the manure, and set the plants in the lines of the cross furrows. After the planting is finished the ground may bo worked out with a light plow or a Cultivator. —Cincinnati Times. —ln an old agricultural paper, of forty-seven years ago, we learn that it is a good plan to put a piece of chalk in the pen with the young calves. They will lick it, and thus correct the acidity of their stomachs and assist digestion and prevent dyspepsia, which often leads to scours. There is no doubt but that this is a most excellent practice. Prepared chalk is often prescribed by doctors as a remedy for heart-bum, which is a symptom of dyspepsia, and for diarrhea. The crude chalk (carbonate ot lime) is, unquestionably, a food preventive and remedy for similar isorders in stock. The prepared chalk is the crude with all the gritty particles worked out, —Rural NewYorker. * —No quarter should be given to the insect pests, which remain year after year simply because we permit them. The potato beetle exists so plentifully because some careless farmers actually breed myriads of them. Many fields of potatoes were abandoned to them last year, and the neighboring country was thus stocked for this year. This is one insect that might be abolished by a combined effort for a year or two. Another is the cattle gad-fly, which may be found in the backs of the cows ana oxen in small lumps or tumors, called warbles. The grubs may be squeezed out of these tumors through the breathing holes and destroyed. (Otherwise they will escape, change to flies and continue the mischief. —The desire for large animals is not always judicious. With cows it is questionable if the largest are the best, when the oast of feeding is considered. There are cases in which a dairyman’s fancy for large, showy animals may be justified, and it may be granted that a stable well filled with large, showy Dutch' or shorthorn a very pleasing exhibition. But when we come to figure up the cost of the product, it may be a question whether, if the same amount of food wore'expended upon ah equally good-looking herd of smaller cows, the milk might not be more cheaply produced. Where the final end of the eow is considered and - the amount of beef is an object, that, of courste, alters.the bearings of the question. But bigness in cows is not always best, either for beauty or profit to the owner.:— Agricultural Exchange. —A lady writes: 44 For three years I have lived in a town, and during that time my sitting-room has been free from flies, three or four only walking about my breakfast-table, while all my neighbors’ rooms were crowded. I often congratulated myself on my escape, but never knew the reason of it until a few days ago. I then had occasion to move my goods to another house, while I remained on for a few days longer. Among other things moved were two boxes of geraniums and calceolarias, which stood in my windows, being always open to their full extent, top and bottom. The boxes wero not gone half an hour when my room was as full of flies as those around me. This, to me, is a new discovory, and perhaps it may serve to encourago others in that which is always a sourco of pleasure, namely, window-gardening. Migndnette planted in long, shallow boxes, placed on the window-sill will be found excellent for this purpose.”

Cut the Grass.

Do not wait for the grass or the clover to get ripe before you cut it for hay. Any of tho meadow grasses are in their prime for hay, so far as nourishment is concerned, just after they are out of bloom. The sap that goes to form the seed is then in its best state of elaboration. Every day tho farmer waits afterwards militates against the value of the hay for feeding stock, for tho nutriment in the stock'goes towards the ripening of the seed, and in grass this is the least valuable. The same rule will apply to clover or any pther forage crop, in-< eluding Indian corn for tedder. Cut any forage orop just after the time it has fairly formed its seed heads. For selling to city consumers it does not so much matter. Many of them like ripe hay. If they will have it, let them. It is their privilege to buy what they like —if they can pay for it. Those who keep themselves posted on the subject of agriculture don’t want ripe hay. Some men who keep baiting Btables in cities, like buy dead ripe; horses do not eat so much of it. In mowing, do not set the sickle bar too close to the ground, especially if it be timothy. An inch stubble is quite close enough. Timothy forms a bulb at the surface of 'the ground. Close cutting often kills this, and the farmer who docs not read is somewhat puzzled to know why his timothy is suddenly killea. It is oftener from close cutting than from freezing out, or any other cause. Iu curing hay, do not let it get too dry before taking. Rake as soon as the hay will gather well in the rake. Do not let nearly dried hay take rain if it can possibly be avoided. It is cheaper in the end to spread hay from the cock than to let it get wet in the swathe, and especially better to open the cooks Father than lot it get wet in the windrow. Clover- hay should be simply allowed to get half dry on the ground, and then be cured in high, narrow cocks. Even if, in curing, it frowns some, it is better than to let it become bleached by exposure to the sun. Bleaching causes the leaves to drop.. If slightly heated in thacock, the leaves are toughened. Do not salt wet hay with a view of bettering' its condition. It will not help a bit—will injure it father; that is stock that are starved ter the want of •s •

salt will eat rotten hay for the sake of the salt. Better use the spoiled hay for littering up the yards and give the animals their salt as it comes from the doalor. If hay is rather groen from the sap it contains thoroughly dried salt will take up much of the superabundant moisture, and the quality of the hay Will remain intact. In any ease we should not give more than eight quaffs of salt to the ton. Thus salted it may be used once a day as a feed, and preferably in the morning. Since it will excite thirst at about the time the stock are turned out to drink. It is not generally known that hay may bo put in a barn much greener than in a stack, and come out all right. The reason of this is that it is kept more perfectly from contact with the air. It will sometimes heat severoly. The moisturo will stand over the top of the mow, and for the reason that during the proqess of fermentation, the moisture rises to the surface faster than it can be absorbed by the air in the barn. Whenever this is the case, if the mow gets so hrit that a sharpened stake driven deep in the mow, and allowed to remain ovornightcomes out in tho morning so hot as to be too warm for the hand, there will dangor of serious mow burning. If only a gentle heat is experienced, the hay will not be injured, and although it may be browned somewhat, many good farmers consider it better for this fermentation. The safe rule, however, is to so dry the hay that it will retain its normal green color as hay in tho mow or stack, so far as possible.—Prairie Farmer. One time I was in Mister Brily’s shop and he had cut ors a pigs hed and set it on the top of a bail, and ole Gaffer Peters he cum in and seen it, and he sed, ole Gaffer did:- “Mister Brily, yure pig is a gittin out." Mister Brily he luked, and then he sed: “Thats so, Gaffer, you jest take that stick and rap him onto the nose fore he can draw it in." So Gaffer he took up the stick and snook up reel sli, and fetched the pigs hed a reglar nose wipe, hard as ever he cude with the stick, and noked the pigs hed off the barl, and you never seen sech a stonisli old man. But Mister Brily he pretended like he wasent a lookin, ana ole Gaffer he sed: “ Mister Brily, you must xouse me, but wen I struck at that pig it dodged and cut its hed off agin the edje of tho fcarl.” —Little Johnny , t'» San Francisco Argonaut. —An acute thinker says: “We know some teachers who have had twenty years’ ‘ experience,’ and yet it would be hard to find poorer ones. We know some whose experience of two years has placed them high in the profession. Who ever heard of measuring the ability of a lawyer by the tiumber of years he had practiced at the bar, or the capacity of a military commander by the number of years he had held command, or the skill of a doctor by the length of years he has administered calomel to his salivating patients?”— Dr. Foote's Health Monthly for July. Capt. Eads, of jetty fame, says: “ It is idle to spend $150,000,000 in digging a canal through the isthmus when by .spending one-third as much along the line of Ine present Panama Railroad it will be perfectly easy to take ships and their cargoes bodily over the isthmus.” His plan would be sipiply to dig a ship canal with locks alongside the railroad. Ho believes it to be practicable, and, as oompared with the plan lately recommended at the Isthmus Canal Conference, on the other side, very economical.

Indlan Depredations.

The fair reader shudders when she thinks of the eettler’s wife watching, from the door of her rude hut, the retreating form of her husband going out to his dally labor—going out, perhaps, to return not again, for before nightfall a savage hand may have laid him low among the prairie grasses. Or it may be a child, a bright-eyed daughter, is snatched away In an unguarded moment, to grace the next war dance. When we read the heartrending details of these savage depredations, we are apt to blame the government for not taking more strict precautions to insure the settler’s protection. But we daily read of the depredations of that arch-fiend, consumption with scarcely a thought of the terrible inroads it is making In human life. Tens of thousands of homes are annually desolated by consumption to ono by Indian outrage. Like the Indian, consumption ofteuest comes stealthily, and no danger is aoprehended until the victim suddenly finds himself hopelessly ensnared, and death’s fatal arrow ends tho scene. Dr. I’ierce’s Golden Medical Discovery, a powerful alteratiye, or blood-purifier and tonic, has restored thousands of consumptives who had tried every other remedy recommended to them, without obtaining any relief, and are willing to testify to its remedial power*. Wb congratulate Mcssit. Wbeclock, Finlay & Co., of .New Orleans, Lit., upon their happy idea ol giving to the public information of the contents of Dr. F. Wilhoft’a Anti-Periodic or Fever and Ague Tonic, which of late has gained such well-deserved popularity among the people. A# far as wo know, this Is the ouly proprietary remedy for the cure of Chills and Fever, the composition of which is not kept a secret. For sale by all Druggists. Tub Gilbert Starched have been in such great demand for so many years that to Attempt to commend them seems like painting the lily or refining gold. With ail competitors these starches are like a dove trooping amoDgst crows. Simple Cure for Biliousness. At this season many people are subject to biliousness. Laxatine Lozenges remove it, and euro piles and constipation. luvaluable for ladies and children. 2d cents a box, > % Chew Jackson’s Best Bweet Navy Tobacco.

|)0 SIIIIE H’s ■ L\ SriTltfS The wear and tear or bdslnees life makee inch tremendous drafts upon bodj end mind that without recourse to some Sustaining agent tliejr must give war under the pressure. To those who are breaking down, or wasting await from general debility or affections of the Uwr, stomach and kidneys, a systematic com me of the Hitters will so reinforce the vital Junctions as to baffle all the assaults of disease and restore the system to fts wonted health. For tale hy all Druggists and respectable Dealers generally. ' % . - Jwa.K.H«hiaK.V<viwttvta»yiJ

»XJOHNSON’S% Indian Blood Syrup. LABORATORY, TT W. 3d St., New York CHy. LATB OF JKHIIET CITT. | TRADK-MAItC. ] The Best Remedy Known to Man! Dr. Clark Johnson bavins associated himself with Hr. Edwin Eastman, an esca|>ed captive. lons a slave to ■Wakametkla, the medicine man of the Oomanchea, la now prepared to lend his aid In the IntroducUon of the wonderful remedy of that tribe. The experience of Mr. Kastman belnff similar to that of Mrs. ohas. Jones and son, of Washington County. lowa, an account of wlioso sufferings were thUlllngly narrated In the New York Herald of Dec. lßth, IM7B. the Diets of which tire so widely known, and so nearly parallel, that hut little mention of Mr. Eastman’s exKrlences will he given here. They are. however, pubhed In a neat volume or 800 pages, enUtled “Seven and Nine rears Among the Comanches and Apaches,’’ of which mention will he made hereafter. Suffice It to say that fur several years Mr. Eastman, while a captive, was compelled to gather the roots, gums, barks, herbs and lierrles of which Wakametkla’s medicine was made, and Is sUll prepared to provide the sami materials for the successful IntroducUon of the medicine to the world; ami assures the public that the remedy Is the same now as when Wakametkla compelled him to , Wakametkla, the Medicine Man. Nothing has been added to the medicine and nothing has been taken away. It Is without doubt the Best Purihkh of the Blood and Bknbwxh of the Sistim ever known to man. Tills Syrup possesses varied properties. It nets upon the Liver, It acta upon the Kidneys. It regulates the Bowels. It pnrlfles the Blood. It quiet* the Nervous System, it promotes Ulgestlon. It Noni-lshes, Strengthens and Invigorates. It carries off the old blood and makes ‘ It opens the pores of the skin, and induces Healthy Perspiration. It neutralises the hereditary taint or poison In the blood, which generates Scrofula, Erysipelas and all manner of skin diseaaes and Internal humors. There are no spirits employed In Its manufacture, and It can be taken Dy the most delicate babe, or by the aged and feeble, care only being required Is attention to directions. Edwin Eastman in Indian Costume. SgVkN AND NINX YKARS AMONG TBS COHANCHIB AND Apaches. A neat volume of 800 pages, being a simple statement of the horrible facts connected with the sad massacre or a helpless family, and the captivity, tortures and ultimate escape of Its two surviving members. For sale by our agents generally. Price, f 1.00. The Incidents nl the massacre, briefly narrated, are distributed by agents. FRKR of charge. Mr. Eastman, being almost constantly at the West, engaged In gathering and curing the materials of which the medicine Is composed, the sole business management devolves upon Dr. Johnson, and the remedy has been called, and Is known ss Or. Clark Johnson's INDIAN BLOOD PURIFIER. Price of Large Bottles - SI.OO Ptlco of Small Bottles - * - .50 Read the voluntary testimonials of persons who have been cared bi the use of I)r. (71»rk Johnson’s Indian Blood Syrup In jour own vicinity. TESTIMONIALS OF CURES. Dyspepsia and Indigestion. lUNOBSVILI.B, Pulaski On., lnd., March 22,187*, Dear Sir—l was troubled for flve «r six yean with Dyspepsia and Indigestion and Sour Stomach. 1 was unable to And relief under the care of physician, aad nought I would try your Indian Blood hyrap. The effect was marvelous, for 1 am entirely free from Dyspepsia, and eat most any food without experiencing any Pain or Sourness of the Stomach. (If. HATHAWAY. Scrofulous Sore Eyes Cured. SPixctm, Owen County, lnd. Dear Sir—Some time ago. my daughter. Are years_N age, took your Indian Blood Syrsp for Scrofulous Sore Eyre, which tho was afflicted with from birth, and tho medicine miraculously cored her. Her eyes are now as clear as crystal. 1 feel It my duty to give this testimony, so that afflicted humanity may profft by my experiences JAMES 1L DAVIS. Derived Very Great Relief. On own Point, lake County, lnd. Dear .Mr—l had hern troubled with Catarrh for some time, using all kinds or medicine, without success, till 1 tried your well-known Indian Blood Mjrrap, from which I derived very great relief MRS. FRANK FULLER. More Good than Aay Other Mediclee. Michigan Citt. Laporte County, lnd. Fred. Boffngra. of Kloepfer A Da, says: “ Your remedy has done my wile more good than any.other medicine sheerer took." Saves Doctors’ Bills. 81LTTLL0T1fLB, Washington Co., Ind, May 22,1879. /Nwr Sir—l have been using, tho Indian Blood Hi rup in my family for the past ffvo years, and It has always given general especially In the ease Of my wife, who has used It for General Debility. It Is the greatest blood purifier known to the world. It has saved me a doctor's bill of not less Ihaa Bve hiinciroff dollars. McC. EUIPPS. _ Cares Cough of Six Years’ Standing! 11 Laoro, Wabash County. Ind„ December, 1878. Doer Sir—l will tell you what the Indian Blood An Excellent Medieine. TALTAEALto, Porter County. In«t. March M, 1879. Dear S(i-I was afflicted wlih DlaslaM. and after the usjM your Indian Blopd Scrofula, Indigestion and General Debility. TirroN, flpton County, lnd. Dear Sir- Thla la to certify that your Indian Blood My rup has cured my daughter of scrofula. lndlgtwUoo aiul General Debility, after the rtiKKMi inmgwuuo aau ueuo at MKS.JANK CMILDXUS. Scrofula. ... Milrot, Ruah County, fftd. Dear Sir—This Is to certify that 1 have ueed yew Indian Blood Myrwp for Scrofula and MJlkLefc advi*. •" ,Uflere " *° “jSMffiSA j. NIWDULU Neuralgia and Indigestion. '• nu A. M^“iidlSS Uloodnyrap, which 1 did. and found Immediate retot I would wet he without it T

NICHOLS, SHEPARD t C 0„ Battle Creek, Mlaris. ORIGINAL AND ONLY GENDINS "VIBRATOR ” THBESHHIG WICHIMM. - IfIHK Matchless Oratederleg, 17a»-Bsvla«, Jb mm! Money.Sarin* Thr*»hcm of tbla da? and Am. Bd/MMI all rival tj Dr RafH Wark, fmktt ChnaMl aad Jbr Savla* UraU freon Waaia**. 0 TEAM Power Threshtrs e Specialty. ■Ss. O .iiMof Srparmlon naSerxpreulJ ferStaa® l*r«*. OCB Darlrafed Steam Thrreker- Inftaee, both Portable aad Traction, wllk V.lueMe lmpiwve ■rata. Ike bayaad aay «Aer Walt or Slad. 0 THE ESTIBI Threshing Espeases (Mi eftM three to five timet that amount) eaa Da mad* Vs tfct Extra Grain SAVED by thoaa laprarad MachiMes. GHA 111 Rakers will eot aehmltldthe ewermo u, wattage of Grale aad tbo Inferior work down by all otbor aiacbtaoa, wbon none poatad «a do dllfereaee. NOT Only Vastly Superior for Wheat. o*l «1 Barley, Krr. and Ilka Grmfaa, bat tho Onr Saoooao hi Thresher la Flax, Timothy. Hllwt, Otosor, aad ttta Seed,. Reqolroa no “aUactUMßta” Or "rekaiUlag" ha ohao(r from Grata to Booda. IN Thorough Workmanship, Elegant flihk, Perfection of Faria, Complotonoa, of Kgjlpmoat, Ota. am " Viaaaroa" Threahar Ootdu an loaowsaraMa. . • A BD.— -* ' IMT ARTELOUB for Simplicity of Parts, atlag Ml lon than one-half the usual Bella aad Doan. Makes ClaaS Wark with ae LlUrriagt or Scattortaga. T9OVB Sites of Separators Hade, Bangtag * fromatxtoTwalroßoraaatu.aadtwaatylmafllaaoo ad Borto Poworn to matoh. rOR Particulars, Call oa aar Dealers «g writ* to aa for Illustrated Circular. wMc* wf mail ltss perfect^tonlc." - A' Safe and Reliable gubetltata for Quinine, Tho only 20 cent AGUE REMEDY XKT VSCB WORLD Wfßgg f and all HALARIAL 018K.48R8. Sold by all Dnigglsts. Mailed IBU on receipt at price by DONDAS DICK A CO., SS Wooema BT., NSW, York. Write for BOOK, mailed to the readers of thll paper FREE on application. ADVERTISERS DESIRING TO REACH THE READERS OF THIS STATE cam do «o nr tmm Cheapest rad Best Manner K. E. PRATT, ‘77 A 79 Jaduea St., CMeagao AUSTIN’S AGUE DROPS. Purely Vegetable. Contain do Quinine or Arsenic. WARRANTED TO CURE ASHE. Dooe, 10 Bropa. Only 00 (tats a Rattle. Austin’s Aour Drops ire prepared from hlghly-con-eeatrated Extracts of Willow. Dog-Wood sod Iron-wood; hence are perfectly safe and reliable. They me a imru cure for Ague and all Bilious Diseases. For sale every, where. ADBTIN k SYKES, Propr'a, Plymoutt, Ohio. |w. ■-9 1111 THKADAHI AWBTLAKK Innvcl Wire Gasu Noa.Exploalve Oil, STOVE.— The only Oil Stove made with win gatua Inaida the rwaarrotr.ou the principle of the Sir Humphrey Datey Safety Lamp, making it abaolutely non-exploaire. Awarded the highest premium Medelat the Pat is Kxpoeittoa, In IKS, for Safety. Capacity and Durability. Made In four aixea, l.lSandi bumera. Inquire of Dealers, or send for eatalogua and price- hat. TIE ADAMS A WESTLAKE MFD. CO., Store Office, 100 Luke St., Chicaßo. JUST THE BOOK FOR SUMMER READINB RANDOM SHOTS! MAX ADELEK’B LATEST and BEST BOOK. Illustrated with many humorous drawings by Arthur R Front. Illuminated Paper binding. 75e; cloth. 91. For sale by all booksellers and newsdealers, or mailed on receipt of price by J. J*. STOItD. 4BT A- CO., PukllaAera, Mo. 707 Chestnut St.. PhUaifalyMa. ■ICU lif AMTEIt ttL Tampa, Florida. pliMre dJKmS of rehash,7lvta ““ County, Florida, should not wait until the Company advance the price agaiu. Lots at present Three and Four dollars roe*. _ • „ 5 acres. Improved, at Clear Water ti’Sroi IB acres on Tampa Bay Weiring lmtnge n (?roT?fn Sumpter Couii’ty'.'.’ . lli«K) Band JO acre Orange irwct, Polk County. #BO per aars. Ik® omce, 148 LaSalle SC. Chicago. Agenu wanted. agents wanted for the Pictorial L HISTORY®* 118 WORLD jjwsSSJSfwirSS for specimen pa gee and extra forma to Ageuta. aad Sue MEDICAL A Colsk Tut HOSPITAL THE LARGEST’ AXR BIST UL»M(EOPATMjC agents, read this. free. *A<WrMSSHKBMAN ACU,h trift —ClMitoest In the wnrM-Imporkeria price* TEAS. ar^iaa^Sr^^ AWNINGS. wTJMtgi S3SOSSS^S«Sc ipi WBE&8& S|EJERj«;£SS. 75 »e» vrjfjM wwntKO pferrau easy yra omm Ik# * I« this paper. AetoortUero Uke to hnou t refeeu mnd wkara theif ****** f«r* royins MM, '