St. Joseph County Independent, Volume 16, Number 46, Walkerton, St. Joseph County, 30 May 1891 — Page 6

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i £ ] * HAT does the mon- } ument mean” (said - James A. QGarfield, in a speech at the unveiling of a soldiers’ monument.) Oh, the monumont, means a world of memories, a world of |

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deeds, a world of tears, and a world of l glories. You know, thousands know, what it is to offer up your life to the country, and that i 3 no small thing, as every soldier knows. Let ma put the question to you for a moment. Suppose your country, in the awful embodied form of majestic law, should stand before you and say, “I want your life; come up here on this platform and offer it » How many would walk up before that majestic presence and say, “Here | am I; take this life and use it for your | great needs.” And yet, almost two mil- ’ licns of men made answer. And a monument stands to commemorate their answer. 'That is one of the meanings. But let me try you a little further. To give up life is much; for it is to give up wife, and home, and chiid, and ambi- | tion, and all—almost all. But let me ! test you a little further. Suppose that | majestic form shoul!d ca!l out to you and | say, “I ask you to give up health, and | drag yourself, not dead, but half alive, | through a miserable existence for long

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years, until you perish and die in your crippled and hopeless condition. I ask you to voluntcer to do that.” This calls for a higher reach of patriotism and self-sacriffce. But hundreds of thousands of our soldiers did it. Thatis what the monument means also. But let me ask you to go one step further. Suppose your country shouid say, “Come here, upon this platform, and fn my name and for my sake consent to become idiots; consent that your very brain and intellect shall be broken down into hopeless idiocy for my sake,” how many could be found to make that venture? And yet thousands did it with their eyes wide open to the horrible consequence. And let me tell you how. One hundred and eighty thousand of onr soldiers were prisoners of war; and among them, when death was stalking, when famine was climbing up into their hearts, and when idiocy was threatening all that was left of their intellects, the ‘gates of their prison stood open every day if they would just desert their flag and enlist under the flag of the enemy: and out of 180,000 not 2 per cent. ever received the liberation from death, starvation, idiocy, all that might come $+ tham bt thev endnred all these hor-

SRS W RSOy SRR SRR OBELEE U OGS Ora" URTR TR rors and all these sufferings in preference to deserting the flag of their country and the glory of is truth. Great God! Was ever such measure | of patriotism reached by any men | upon this carth before! 'T'hat is what | your monument means. DBy the suhtle} chemistry ti2t no man knows, all t.hn‘ blood that was shed by our brethren, all ‘ the lives that were thus devoted, all the | grief andstears, at last crystailized itself ' into granite and rendered immortal the great truths for which they died. And it stands to-day, and that is what your monument means. | Now, what will it teach? What will it teach? Why, I remember the story of one of the old conguerors of Grecce, who, when he had traveled in his boyhood over the battle-fields'where Miltiades had won victories and set up trophies, returning, he said: “These trophies of Miltiades’ will never let me sleep.” Why? Something had taught him from the chiseled stone a lesson that he could never forget. 1t is not a lesson of revenge; it is not a lesson of wrath. Tt is the grand, sweet lesson of the immortality of a truth that we hope will soon cover, like the Shechinah of light and glory, all parts of this Republic; from the lakes tothe Gulf. I I once entered a house in o'd Massachusetts, where, over its door, were two crossed swords: one was the sword carried by the grandsire of its owner on the field of Bunker Hill, and the cther was a sword carried by the English grandsire of the wife on the same field

B, R S DA TS S P RN, IO SR RRS and on the other side of the conflict. Under these crossed swords, in the restored harmony of domestic peace, lived a family happy, contented, and free under the light of our republican liberties. I trust the time is not far distant when, under the crossed swords and the locked shields of Americans, North and South, our people shall sleep in peace and rise in love and harmony under our flag of stars. CEREMONIES OF THE DAY. It Has Been Observed for the Past Twen-ty-three Years. Decoration Day at first was a veritable day of mourning. There was no distance then between those who had been killed in the army or who had died in the ! service, and the relatives who grieved!’ over their loss and would not be com- |

TN TN g TN, L O ey R T U, S TN LT SR N 7.y R S W Wweas T § sorted. Over theirgraves there were tears shed and every grave was surrounded by women in black and by men whose voices trembled when they raised them in song. Most of these found expression for their burdened hearts in decoration with flowers. It was natural that a family should gather about the graves of their own dead and that their own special offerings should be for their own. lln this way it happened that many graves in the cemeteries of the cities and country towns were piled high with offerings of flowers while others had but a single bouquet, and possibly a single flower. The people on impulse corrected this, and soon there were offerings of flowers in mass for the decoration of all the graves and the ceremony of decorating - was delegated to littie girls WwWho dressed in white went }rom | grave to grave diropping impartialiy on “all. Later the ladies took charge of ’ decorating, but it was found that even on this plan some graves were neglected, "and so it happened that the members of the Grand Army took charge of the de- ! tails themselves, altering their pro- | ' gramme from year to year as experience | and the change of sentiment of the peo- | ple suggested new details of arran,o- | ' ment and of economy. In the ]argf\rl ¢ities or in the cemeteries where tho | | graves of soldiers were together it was ' | easy to follow a general programme; but ; "in the country neighboriood where the *

| 5 ' graves were isolated, one or two or three | :J’ in distant country churchyards, often in | 3 ' a neighborhood where there was no liv- ‘ | I ing relative of the deceased, a different - { programme was adopted. In such dis- i , ! tricts it was the custom for the ex-sol- | diers to organize for that day a cavalry | )l(‘ompzmy that made the round of tlm' | { distant cemeteries and decorated each | l'soldier's grave. In this way the grave | of one soldier Dburied cight or ten miles | from any other received as much atten- l i tion as those in the city cemetery. ‘ ' As the years went by Decoration Day became, in fact, a memorial rather than | a mourning day. Remoteness from the ! date of the war softened grief and gave | | to the cer2monies a less somber cast. ] The bitterness of the years imme liately ‘ | succeeding the war that made the griev- | ing of so marked a character passed +away, and in its stead came a tender rec- { : ! ollection, not only of individual soldiers | but of soldiers as soldiers. The element | of individual sorrow and individuoal i grieving gave place to a common reverence for the men who wore the blue, and ! the ceremonies of that day took on a character corresponding to the change in feeling. From the day that General 1 e

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| AUy iy o U SISURARSL i Y { | Lozan issucd his order to the Grand | ; Army of the Republic and to the peop-e, | i the members of the Grand Army have | {given special attention t) the observance | 'of the day. and by common consent they i | have been a'lowed to take the initiative, l l but it has not been made a Grand Army ; 'day. Every vear it has become more of ‘ 'a people’s day. and in fact years azo the ll custom of inviting donations of tlowers i | from the public schools became very gcn-'l ‘era,l. This brought the recollection of | | the war to every home, and the children | .| became as much interested in the ob- | : E servance of the day as the o.d veterans ’ | | themselves. j A

R miiiaaam M . I As the yesrs have passed there hags | erept into the bearing of the ex-soldiers ' who officiated in the various capacities on Decoration Day more of tolerance a,n.d | courtesy, but there has been with t}lls . no decline in earnestness or in devot.on ' to the cause in which so many Union | soldiers fell. For example, a few }'o“3 . ago ex-Union soldiers in large bodies an . ex-Confederate soldiers in small bodies met at the same cemetery to decorato the graves of their old comrades. The ex-Union soldiers in one part of the ,cemetery performed their part of the ceremony with the dignity and some:- , thing of the pompof war. The ax-Con-federates in another part, few in number, performed their duties in the simplest manner possible. As they stood in a sorrowful group near the graves they | had decorated, they heard the measured ]’ tread of marching troops, and turned, i surprised, to see the veterans in blue marching toward them. The men in blue, as they passed the ex-Confederates, ~/" ;T‘l\‘\\\ ." 717 [N ~o ",:UM“ ~» , ’-.5‘ h ”M\' 'y Y O || Al ~ X -W’Qiflp =R . ~ | UL WE 11"‘ !‘!@) \\ ' Qi 'J' il Rl o W R AL O ) T :\ K 3 —z |l ’\l i % ) N o Didalatl ) s.‘ A s V. i e TR N ,/ 7 Sl N\ 5 N ) //4/'/”'\ -‘%’r‘_"/l// QA R b e\ 2> R e ' silently saluted, and left with them a - simple offering meant to express the - sympathy that one soldier might give to another. 'This touchea the ex-Confed- - crates more, perhaps, than would any | expression of sympathy in mere words, | and it was going as tar and no further ' than the veterans of the Grand Army ' could go with propriety, This iliusi trates the spirit of the present observance of the day “with charity for all, with malice toward none,” but with the uncomprising tenacity for the principles on which ths war was fought and unending devot'on for the men *“who died that i-the Nation might live.” The Numbe of Northern Soldiers, The official returns show that 2,653,~ 000 soldiers enlisted during the war in response to successive cal's of President I Lincoln. Os this number 186,000 wera l('n'urwl. The Northern and Southern i armies met in over 2,000 skirmishes and battles. In 148 of these the Federal side lost over 500 men. and in at least ten battles over 10,000 men were reported lost on ecach side. Some of the chief battles reported the azgrezate losses of both sides of killed, wounded and miss- | ing as follows: Shiloh, 24,000; Antiei tam, 18000; Stone River, 22,000; | Chickamanga, 33,000; MeCleilan's Pe- | ninsula campaign, 50,000: Grant's Penin-

sula campaign, 140,000; and Sherman’s L campaign, 80,000, Official statistics | show that of the 2.633,000 men enlisted 44,238 were killed in battle: 40205 died of wounds: 186,216 died of disease; 24,181 died of unknown causes; tota!, 303,843. To this number can Lo' added 26,000 who died while in the hands | of the enemy as prisoners of war, and § many others whose deaths arc nnrocesi ed. A fair percentage of 205,794 are officially recorded as deserters or missing | | in action; men frequently disappeared i j war who were recorded under the deser- . tion head and could not be otherwisa offi- | | cially accounted for, and thousands who{ died while at home on furloughs and are ‘ buried in private cemeteries. The quotas of troops furnished by each | State are iisted as follows: : Maine ........... 71,745 Dist, of Columbia 18,873 New Hawmpshire. 74,605 0hi0,.............317,133 } | Verm0nt......... 35,35 1ndian5.......... 1909117 ] | Massachusatts, .. 151,784 lilinoia .......... 258,217 Rhode 151 and,.... 24,741 Michigan ........ 80119 Connecticut...... 5227 Wisconsin....... 9,118 | New Y0rk........435,56% Minnesota ....... 25024 i New Jergey ..... 19,311, Jowa.. ......covne (3000 Pennsylvania.... 36,326 Mi550uri.........108,778 De1aware........., 13,651 Kentucky........ 7858 Maryland ........ 46,730/ Kansas .......... 33,091 ¢ i West Virginia.... 30,003 i SOLDIERS AS SAVIORS. | They Paid the Price an'l B ack Men Now f Are Freo.

HE central idea of ‘ the orthedox theol- ];‘ ogy of to-day is i founded upon the t be'ief of the efhl--3 ca 'y of the atoneS ment of Christ T‘-iifi when he sufiered {i and died upon the I cross. Did aitß three or four hun\fi dred thousand of 1l the boys in blue, “owho, in one sense, \“ were the beloved {i sons of God, the ather bear tha

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| 7% 1 atilcr, UVUCai:I t4o { heavy cross of suffering and pain? And | did they not make the hills and valleys from Cairo to Vicksburg, from the Wilderness to Richmond, from ILookout Mountain to Atlanta, and from Atlanta to the sea a veritablg _Colgesha® T &w 1O SMeacy n thel alonens £y Did they not die in order that 4,0C0,000% slaves might live as freeman, and that | we as a nation inherit everlasting life? THEIRS AND OURS. BY FRANCES ADAIR. Theirs the courage that endeavored To repel dark treason's host, Ours a Union stanch, unsevered Une fair whole from coast to coast. Theirs the struggle and the trial— Days of doubt and gloom and woe, Ours the fruit of their denial— Peace that doth like river flow. Theirs the long, faticuine marches, Wounds and death on bloody field. Ol]!'.s these homes that heaven o'erreaches With a love that's sun and shield.

l Buried Animositios. In the graves of the country's soldier dead shonld be laid also. the animosities which existed during the great conflict t that cost them their lives. No matter | whether they wore the blue or the gray, { they belonged to the Republic, were | brothers in one great family, and, in a i broader sense, were children of the great l IFather of all. With the war-clouds long i since scattered by the sweet winds of l peace, and our reunited country happy | under thf} smiling sk:ex'flof prosperity, standing by the graves of the country's 1 soldier dead, there come to mind those | ! words of one of America's greatest ora- i \ tors: “I have but one sentiment for the i | soidiers who fought in the late war, and " that is cheers for tha livinz and tears for J | the dead.”

| S ’ AE [ND THE FARM. | & -e~ | BEPARTMENT MADE UP FOR | OUR RURAL FRIENDS. “ New Z#ppllances for the Farmer—l :» 11 Selegted Suggestions for the HouseI{ fe, the Etockman, the Dairyman, the ' @eulterer, and the Horticulturist—Notes.

= C = i y THE FARAM, a ' 1 Largest Farm in the World, C

N THE extreme| southwest corner | ! of Louisiana lies | tho largest pro- 1 ducing farm in i the world, measuring 100 miles s north and south, ! and twenty-tive l { miles east and!’ west. Itisowned ', ] and operated by | a syndicate of! Northern capital- ! ists. The 1,500,- | 000 acres of the | tract were pur- | chased from the! State of Louis-| iana and from the | U. S. government. i

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_ ‘At that time it was a vast Vgra.zingl Bnd for the cattle of a few dealers of B 2 apeeover 30.000 head of

; ’ne' ERREERE SASFAPSRy | WO¥ R uv,vu:v RN e T wl?d harses and cattle being thereon. L 3% this immense tract is divided into lahvenient pasture stations or ranches deisting overy six miles. The fencing 8o cost $30,000. The land is best S Bied for rice, suzar corn, and cotton. | : ; [ cultivation, ditching, etc., is done by | the m powor. A tract, say half a mi]e' vde, is taken and an engine is placed | steach side. The engines are portable, ! 8d operate a cahie attached to four | phws, and under this arrangement thirty | ges a day are gone over with only the ' or of three men. Harrowing, planting, and other cultivation is done in .).’ jile manner. There is not a single draft | h%e on the entire place. course horses are used for the herders of cattle, of which there are 16,000. hed. Tha Southern Pacific Railway ruis for thirty-six miles through the | fara. The company have three steam- | boats operating on the waters of tlu\ir% estales, of which there are 300 miles | navgable. They have also anice-honse, | a bak, a ship yard, and a rice mil‘;.—«‘ Spart Manents. : A Cheap Wheelbarrow, i Mr. P. Brugger, South Dakota, sends ) jthe Farm and Fireside a descrip- | s tion of a cheap wheelbarrow that can be | Aot cnsman sttt i emrnspaisnsnets | W an, N J.ALL“:\:\\ RN | W LS ——y i J'/S‘Mi E . /”/ 3 ! _‘>“~.r ' o . == T et e T A CHEAP WHIELBARROW.

i A e I = ! made by any farmer handy with common : carpentor tools. The accompanying cut needs no explanation. The sideboards are made from planks six feet long and sixteen Inches wide. The bettom and and piedes are also made out of wide ! pine Loagds. No legs are needed. o _ Wheat Cuiture, ‘ iples of wheat culture are e L Ve o B 0 e Liw naints that fshould be well learned. Ond™ e there should be a good seed bed. One plowing is sufficient, but the harrow and | roller cannot be too much used. The bed should be well compacted by the roller, and made very fine on top to the depth of two or three inches. The fertilizer used should be thoroughly mixed with this fine surface, not put below it with the plow, and, if it is honie-made, should be old and fine, so thatitis at once availablo for use by the starting plants. Try to sow after a rain instead of before, and as soon arfter as the land will permit working; do not “‘dust in” the wheat and trust to luck for suflicient moisture to give it a start. Between one and two inches is the happy medium of ' depth at which to sow. and this can best i be attained by having regulating wheels upon each tube of the drill toensure regularityof depths and to press the soil close about the sced. To ensure germination the seed must come into contact with the soil. If the ground is dry, or G L e aasin nE 3¢ Talle tn Ao

slignily cioaay, muca 01 1t lalls O Qo4§ this under ordinary methods. Use good | grain only for secd, clean and screen re-| peatedly, so that all foreign secds andi weak grains of wheat are cast out. Put! it through a strong blast, so that only | the heaviest will remain. Repeated ex-! periments have proven beyond question that it pays to use selected seed. Lastly, | cutdown your proposed area by a large percentage and put the extra 'woor and fertilizer on the rest, and you will reap a greater net reward at the endof the har- | vest. i Rainfall as a Fertilizer. ‘ Nature's method of irrigation is bet- ! ter than any artificial system of watering the earth, for the reason that rain supplies more than moisture to the soil. There is a solid basis of fact in the old proverb, “Snow is the poor man’s fertilizer.” And the same is true of rain. In th? P“""‘*iflf evaporation and wwdwnsation, passing throush the air to the clouds, and thence to earth again, it gathers and conveys to the soil certain elements of fertility which are indispensable to plant nutrition. These materials in soluble form are taken nup by the root-feeders of plants, and so the plants derive nutriment as well as moisture from rainfall. No artiflcial system of irrigation can fully perform this most usesul office. In five years of observation at Lincoln, New Zealand, Mr. George Gray found that an acre of land receives anually (In 28.9 inches of rain) about 175 pounds of dissolved matter, including 60.5 pounds of chiorine (bLeing near to the segw,) 15 pounds of sulphuric anhydride, and more than 2 pounds of uitrogen. In a series of experiments Sir J. D. Lawes found that land at Rothamsted, England, receives annually per acre an average of 24 pounds of pure salt, 44 pounds of nitrogen in form of ammonia and nitric acid, and 13 pounds oi sulphuricacid. Carbonic acid, one of the most powerful solvents of plant food, in yarying quantities is brought to the earth by rain or snow passing through the air. This serves as both a solvent and fertilizer, liberating the lime and potash in the soil, preparing them for the use of growing plants. Blessed is the country in which nature | does the work of irrigating the soil, for it gets both necded moisture and fertili- | zation.

Sao o SRS SOO 15 SR SS R s N E—— : Farmyard Manure. ‘ ‘ Tho physienl effect of farmyard manure upon soils i{s equally important with its chemical influence. The general rule according to which short and well-rotted dung is applied to light, open soils, and long, fresh dung to heavy, compact soils, is one intimntely associated with the mutual physical relations of soils and manure. The fresher the dung the less \ ready are its constituents to enter into

combinations available as plant food, and in this form a stiff clay soilis well adapted to hold or retain it till the occurrence of those chemical reactions which result in rendering the nutrient ingredients of the manure presentable to the plant. The older and more rotted the dung before appiication, tne more promptly are its fertilizing ingredients available, and | as light, porous soils are deficient in re-‘ tentive power, it is well they should re-| ceive dung in an advanced state of de-| composition, and at a time when the crop | is ready to make use of it, loss of manur- | ial substance by means of the drainage waters being thus avoided. TFurther- | more, long or green manure helps to open up stiff soils, and the fresh straw provides air channels along which the atmosphere can find its way into the recesses of the soil, oxidation being thereby promoted. Conversely, the application of short or much decomposed dung to a light or sandy soil has the beneficial effect of promoting its consolidation, and of rendering it less rapidly permeable by ‘ wateir.—English Exchange.

L TRE SETOCK-IANCH, Fattening Calves. Is it not possible to feed new milk to calves in such away as to gain all the advantage to the calf from sucking its dam and getting food in the natural way? It is always conceded that in this way lthe calf fattens best, but it injures the milking qualitles of the cow. 1f fed by | hand the calf is not merely allowed, but ' forced to drink too rapidly. The suckling usually only gets a small portion at & time, and this is mixed with saliva be- | fore it goes to the stomach. If a rubber | tube were filled with sponge and the calf required to suck warmed milk through this it would seem to be what is needed. But this would necessitate so much extra | labor in keeping these tubes and sponges { sweet that the method is not practitable. ‘ Allowing the calf to suck either the { finger or some solid substance in the \ bottom of the pail, and seeing to it that it got its feed of new milk warm and l slowly, is all that can be expected. Cold ! food is almost always the cause of scours. ll When the digestive organs are chilled by j it into inactivity nature has no recourse | save to throw off the load with the ‘ slightest effort possible. Os course food | passing undigested through the stomach : does not nourish the animal. and a temi porary impairment of the digestive ori gans soon tends to make itself perl manent.—dmerican Cultivator.

Notes About Shecep. Sheep must not be deprived of water if they do notdrink much. The sheep are wasting enough every i month to pay for good racis. I l There is no better time for docking l and castrating lambs than at birth. - They appear to feel the operation then ‘ - less than when older, and usually bleed | | but little or not at all. ! | Wood ashes are as beneficial to sheep 'as to swine. Theyexpel worms and improve the general health. As a rule, however, good food and care are better | than physic for the flock. Oats excel. -& Q&@:flhfi_ fit%t have proved a i Mark them for weeding out. Don’t be |at a loss by their worthless lives, but % put them off when they will bring the | most money. | Were you going to get a thoroughbred ! male this vear to grade up your flock? | The best can be bought at the low«-st' { price this spring. He can be safely | brought up by a native ewe and even | the most skeptical will be impressed by ! the improved condition that will over- | take the flock in two years from his in- || troduction. "I Fully 1,000,000 sheep are owned in " t Wyoming and the cattle men are looking '| at the sheep men with envy. The num- : ' ber of flocks is increasing and the stock |i3 being improved. The climate is good 3 | for sheep aud they can pasture during " | winter, The businessoffers good oppor- | | tunities for young men with some capi- - | tal, nerve, knowledge and experience t'and a good bit of energy.—Farm and L\ Home.

THE VINEYARD. Grafting Grapes. Samuel Miller, in Popwlar Gardening, thus refers to the above subject: After ! many years of experience, during the | work at all times from February, when the frost was out of the ground, until the vines have made shoots a foot long, with varied suceess, I have come to the conclusion that the best time is when the vines are started to grow, the grafts are being kept in a cool, shady place so that‘ they were a little Lehind the stock in starting. To keep them entirely dormant in an ice-house, as some recomi mend, is wrong. I have had the buds on the grafts swollen ready to burst when inserted that started to grow a week i after. Clear the ground away from the - root three or four inches deep, saw off at 'a smooth place at the bottom. If no smooth place can be found, saw into the stump instead of splitting as usual. A F thick, wide-set saw I prefer to a knife, ‘ even in a straight stump. Shave your - graft to fit the cut with a shoulder, tie if | | the stock is less than an inch in diameter, ‘ then fill in the earth carefully, press ' firmly, but do not move graft. Hill up ' to the upper bud, stick a peg one inch i from each graft on one side; so you can { tell exactly where the graft is. Then { cover the eye over with a handful of sawi dust; throw a little muleh on and leave ', it until the grafts begin to grow. I use | two eyed grafts, unless the wood is long { jointed and thick, when one eye will an- { swer. When the grafts begin to grow | the suckers must be kept off, or they will keep the grafts from growing, As soon ; as the graft begins to grow it must be { tied up to a stake to keep the wind from ; blowing it down. In this way I nearly i always get fruit a little sooner than ! when I buy a small vine. Have now i strong vines of Empire State that were! set in spring of 1886; bore fruit last year, | ' while three vines planted the year before E that cost me 86 have not borne a bunech { of fruit yet, and not much show of doing !it the coming season. I cannot see the l policy of digging worthless vines up and i planting others in their place. Graft i them with something better. l THE POULTRY YALRD, Large and Double-Yelked Eggs. It is seldom that a double-yelked egg will hatch, though instances have been

R A N SIS 70 ok LA TR N AN, " sK S R knowu in which such eggs have proda-ed chicks. Whea double-yelked eggs are found, it is to be regretted, as they invariably indizate that the hens are out o | condition—teo fat. A heningood laying condition will never produce an egg ‘ other than of the norn al size peculiar to | her breed, and if fat, she is entirely un- | fitted for laying. If a fat hen is killed ; ‘ she will be found fall of eges. <0 to speak.

R.S PR (S TSRT L SRR S T b R .gy R W RNP W I but they will be noticed to be of all:izea’ and the poultryman will be amazed over the fact that she did not lay; but examination will “how that obstructions of fat weic the cause, and the henis then more profitable dead than when alive—Farm land Fireside. Food and Growth, T } The duckling will eat twice as much food as the chick, but it will a.lso weigh ‘ more than twice as much in two months. i It i 8 not the amount of food eaten that i regulates the expense, but the ratio of ! gain in proportion to the amount fed. It ‘ matters not how much is consumed, provided ;on have a corresponding growth | and iucrease of weight. Feed the ducklings heavily and force them. Swelled @eads. If you allow a draught of air to flow over your fowls at night, the probability will be that you will find their heads and jeyes swollen in the morning. The first { | thing to do is to remove thé cause by | stopping up the cracks or the \'entlla't?rhole al the top of the poultry-house. The ' ‘ best remedy is to annoint the head and | eves with a few drops of a mixture of one

part of spirits turpentine and four parts of sweet oil. : THE HOUSEHOLD. ) Household Rules. '| CreAM and acids do not cardle, while ’ milk and acids do. £ ‘ To PREVENT layer cake from sticking, | grease the tins and dust in a little flour. ." IN roasting meat, turn with a spoon | instead of a fork, as the latter pierces | the meat and lets the juice out. : 1r sponge cake i 3 mixed with cold .| water it is yellow, but if the water be | boiling hot the cake will be white. : A TEASPOONFUL of corn starch mixed with a cupful of salt will remove all pos- | sibility of dampness in the shaker. i WHEN making white cakes use a half | teaspoon more of cream of tartar than ' | soda, as this extra quantity ¢f cream of | tartar makes the egg whites stiffen. i ! ScaLp the bowl in which the butter | and sugar are to be creamed for cake; | the hot dish heates the butter so that is | will blend much easier with the sagar. ; ’ Ilr doughnuts am cut cut an hour be- _ | fore they are [ried to allow a little tima i i for rising they will be x_uuf-h l.igliu_-r. | Try (:xxttillg at night and Irying in thd _{ morning. . . GrAVY will generally be lumpy if ths _| thickening is poured in while the pan iy | over the fire. Set the pan off until thg

thickening is well stirred in, then set i on the fire and cook thoroughly. . To xeer the bread-jar and cake-bor | sweet, rinse after washing with boiling | water in which a little common soda hz2 | been dissolved; then set out of doors ip | the sun for a few hours. . | Icixag for cake may be prevented from | cracking when cut; by adding one tablel spoonful of sweet cream to each unbeaten egg. Stir all up together, then { add sugar until as stiff as can be stirred. A vALUABLE salve for cutsor wounds of all kinds: Boil one-half cup of thick, sweet cream ten or fifteen minutes, stirring constantly; when cold, beat it thor- | B'%!t ¢ and cor o frosh every time. , Keep sewer pipes, connected— With stationary stands, clean and wholesome S by scalding once a week with boiling wa- | ter in which washing seda has been dis- | solved, remembering that many cases of ‘ diphtheria have been attributed to foul l sewer pipes. | Sorvriox for cleaning silver and i brass—to one quart of rainwater add two | onnces of ammonia and three ounces of | precipisated chalk. DBottle and keep | well corked, and shake before using. ! Wash silver in hot, soapy water and ‘ rinse in not water. { A coop cement fcr mending broken ! china. Dissolve a little gum arabic in a little water so that it is rather thick, put | enough plaster of parisinto this to make | a thick paste. Cement broken pieces of | china together and in half an hour they | cannot be broken in the same place. Hot ' { water seems to make it more firm. 3

THE RKITCHEN, Recipes. CuocoLATE CArßaMers.—One pint of brown sugar, one gill of sweet milk, onehalf pint of molasses, one-half cake of Baker's chocolate, grated, and a good teaspoonful of butter. DBoil over a slow fire, stirring until the Ingredients are dissolved, and occasionally afterwards, as it burns easily. Test it by dropping a little into cold water. If it hardens ‘quivk]y remove at once from the fire, flavor with wvanilla and pour into butltorod tinis. One should be careful in adding the extract, as the heat is likely to set fire to the aleohol, especially if added while on the stove. When cool, ‘mark the caramels ia squares with a buttered knife. VELVET SronxGE CskE.—Two cups of sugar, six eggs, leaving out the whites of three, one cup of boiling hot water, 24 cups of flour, one tablespoonful of bak,ing powder sifted with the flour; beat the volks a little, adfi the sugar, beat fifteen minetes, then the three beaten whites, and the cup of beiling water just tefore the flour. Flasor with a teaspoonful of lemon exteact and bake in three layers. \When baiied, put between the cakes icing made Yy adding to the three whites reserved, beaten to a soft froth, six dessertspoonals of pulverized sugar to each ejrg; flavir to taste. Aryoxp Torry.—Bcil together half a . pint of water and one pound of good brown sugar for ten minutes; blanch one and ona-half ounces of sweet almonds. and slice them through the center; add them to th> syrup with iwo ounces or a little more of frash butter; let all boil for ten minutes more (when the toffy is suffiicient]ly done it will harden at once when dropped on a plate, or irto a little cold water), pour it on a woll-buttered dish; ! it should uat De more than half an inch | thick. APPLE Purpping.—Pare, core, and chop very tine six apples; mix these with six ounces of grated bread crumbs, six ounces of currants (washed and dried), five ounces of mois} sugar, a little nutmeg and a little grated lemon zest. When these ingredients are ali thoroughly mized ade six eggs, the yolks and whites beaten separately; butter a mold and pour in the mixture; let it simmer for three hours; serve withoud lsauce.