St. Joseph County Independent, Volume 20, Number 13, Walkerton, St. Joseph County, 20 October 1894 — Page 2

ONLY A BABY’S BY HENRY T. GRAY. Only a baby's worn-out shoe, A wee, little thing Cast out, neglected, lying there, Revealed when woke the sjiring. How long it liy, all hidden up, revered by fallen snow. Who cast the waif away, one day, I'm sure I ll never know. But once it cased a tiny foot. Wasbaby dark or fair? What color were its spa kling eves, And what its silken hair? Bid mother love it very much, Or was it in tl e way? What was tie home it occupied? Can anybody say ? Was baby living when the shoe Was dropped upon the sreet? Was it a useless covering For one of its wee feet? Or was the baby laid away Within the.stlent grave, And was the shoe by accident Dripped there upon the pave? The mystery I'll never sol.e, The shoe was cast awav. But who it was who wbre it once No one wih ever say. a stangFrlde. On the highway between Appleby •nd Ambleside, just bordering the roadside green with hawthorn bushes, ’*> stood the very pretty cottage which 1S ' Robert familiarly known as ‘'Bob”) irrifc. —ti earned by faithfully > a good feeling oil iw business * sve wins last year W 4 with «“‘ fc » with a garden of ar and going to the r fl d no pigpen in the said wide receh'heeded the smiling face Haynes, whose , little mistress to make it lown catch wWn of delight to the tired .usband when he came home atnight sick of the smell of t.low. Not a cloud had ma: red her married life, not a wrinkle bad crossed Mrs. ‘'Bob’s” smooth little forehead. Her biscuit always lose an 1 were light, her hired girls had no "followers;” her children never had the mumps nor the measles,and thesmall •Jlowance on which she dressed her■elf sufficed to make her the envy of the farmers’ wives in the neighborhood, and provided her with that •elf-satistle । feeling which dots more to tone up the nervous system than a dozen bottles of beef, wine, and iron. It all came about through a pink bonnet, for there are as many serpents connected with tine leathers as with fresh fruit. Mrs. Bob had a school friend who. having married a rich gro er, could live in the city, owned a real sealskin jacket, amt used lump sugar all ■he year round. One day it occurred to Mrs. Butterworth’s fertile mind that as her friend was not feeling ve y well, a breath of country air would d > her a ‘•world of good.” So she persuaded easy-going Bob to all on the grocer, and invite his wife to come out and spend a week or Iwa The consequence was that soon afterward, onalovely July afternoon, the stage stopped at the tallow-manu- , facturer’s coUage and a very fashout, anti, aclug- tfoVwo rr!.T'?' ' dared she was delighted to see her tear Kitty again.” Everything went beautifully for a while. The grocer’s wifestutTed her •elf with country dainties, and in return played a song so sweetly for them every evening, that Mr. Butterworth wished to send tor a music teacher at once for his daughter, aged 1 years. If there was any cloud in the horizon it v as only that Mrs. Bob fell a twinge of jealousy every Sunday when she saw her friend’s face surrounded by the nodding pink feathers that trimmed a terry velvet 1 onset. as she said to her husband, — “I’m perfectly happy, Bob, and I wouldn't change places with Celia for the world, but. —” “But what?” e noed Mr. Butterworth, putting down his paper and looking at her. "Oli, nothing,” said Kitty, wondering the wh ie how much such a bonnet would co>t without the feathers. Without the feathers! Yes. but that would be "Hamlet” without the ghost. Ire tty little Mrs. Bob sighed. That sigh was an era in her life, and she and the “serpent'' made each other’s acquaintance for the first time. About a mile and a half from the Butterworth's lived in great seclusion a young widow, who had just *ettled there,and between whom and Mrs. Bob there was a slight, formal, calling acquaintance. '1 he widow was rich, d essed in elegant mouru--lij£. owned a pony carr age and drove wp to Kitty’s cottage in style, when ■Be came at all: but Mra. Butterworth had returned the v.sits on loot, tripping along the country lanes in stout walking shoes, in the plainest and i.uietest gowns, and pad felt no pang of jealousy. But now, as she remembered that she owed a call at the Sunset Villa the widow's residence., it occurred to her, with regret, that her best bonnet was but a shadow of last summer at best, and that the i eghoru she had bought forher daughter made it impossible for her to dream of a pink bonnet herself About this time the gro er’s wife, having satisfied herself with four week’s fare of cream and fruit, began to grow weary of the monotony of life at the Butterworths’ and to yearn tor a change. “I believe.” she said languidly, •one morning, picking daintily the wing of one of Kitty’s pet fowls, cooked especially lor her. “I will go and slay over Sunday with Evelyn Thomas. Sh lives only a few miles Vom here, and I have not seen her since she was married. I know she will be glad to see me, and 1 can go jyst as I am, without dressing, and I will be back on Monday, to stay one ®ore week with you before Igo home—”

Kitty uttered a feeble protest, bat in her heart she cried “Hallelujah ” She looked forward with a spasm ot delight to a respite from the society of the friend of her youth, and she saw her drive off on Friday with an expression of polite regret on her face, but a palpitation of joy in her heart. On Saturday morning she went, with a housekeeper's careful forsight, to sweep out her pretty bedroom, dusting here, add ng fresh roses in a vase there, and making each nook and corner she visited the sweeter for her presence. The first thing she noticed on entering the apartment occupied by the grocer’s wife was her wardrobe door left ajar. Temptingly in view lay the white bo, within which, Mrs. Bob knew, lay the lovely p uk bonnet for wh ch her heart yearned. “There’s no barm in my looking at it,” she whispered, putting down a broom. There it lay, light and ileecy as a pink aurora, and Kitty, lifting it carefully out, ran to the glass and set it daintily on her pretty little head. Becoming! 1 should say so. My! if ■ Bobiould only just see her. She laughed and nodded to herself in the mirror; then, turning sideways, gave backward coquettish glances at herself over her shoulder at ouce uu uudißcious idea -«o ctirred to hor. Wi,j> over nnrl make a call on the widow, who had never seen the bonnet, and weirin' No one would meet her. There was not a house on the way; it was a lovely day, and—“l'll just dress myself and see how it looks, any way,” said she. (Here the serpent got his own way entirely, you see i After an hour or two spent in eat- > ing a hasty lunch, putting on her best white dressing, doing up her hair in four different ways and pull- | ing it down as often, she aga n, and I with less hesitation, took out the bonnet. Alas! what woman could have withstood that smilliug face with its halo of p nk, nodding plumes, its bows of pink satin ribbon tied so coquettishly under the chin? Mis. Bobcouid not* So much in love wa* she, in fact, with herself under this new aspe t that she could haul y tear herself away from her image. (Hiding cautiously down stairs to avoid meeting any one, she tripped along the lane, glancing coquettishly at herself in the little pools she came to. The widow was delighted to see her—or she appeared to be. So charming, in fact, did she make herself that Mrs. Boti staved Iwo hours, and noticed not the gathering clouds or the fast disai pearing glory of the summer afternoon. Hearing at last the little gilt chick on the pantel strike five, she rose to depart, 'feeling well pleased wTh herself, the widow, and he call. As she went gayly down the garden path she noticed for the first time with aiaim, that the sun had hidden hims if, and that a black cloud bung over hex bead. f kuliumufuE. nt the *kv. W hat was that on her nose.- a drop of rain? Pooh it couldn’t be Yes. it was, though, and she Ja mile from home and no umbrella. Have you ever seen one of those sudden storms that come without warning? They are very common n the lake d str ds in th m rth ot England. This was one of them First, two or three drops, then a deluge Poor, guilty Mrs. Bob! She stood for a moment, borrow 'truck, look- । Wig vainlv for a place of refuge, and then throwing her skirts frantically over her borrowed plume-. crushed under a big bush that skirted the road'ide. This was not very comfortable, as you may imagine, and Mrs. Bob had plenty of tin eto chew the cud of sweet ati I bitter fancy. Meanwhile the rain came down m torrents, patter. patter, flatter, sop, sop, sop, soaking through her th.n sh es, dripping through the bushes on her • nose, her hands, and on the skirts that covered the boon t. Had it soaked through? She dared not look, i “Oh, dear." 'he thought “11 some carriage would only go by." That day a funeral had taken place; an old man who had been suffering many years with rheumatism had been taken away, and that very , afternoon he had gone to his last rest ng place—a graveyard two miles beyond the widow s As if in answer to Kitty's thoughts, she now saw coming down the road at a speedy og trot the hearse which had conveyed the mortal remains of old Deacon Potter to Appleby, and which was then on its homeward j journey. Now in England the hearses are not like th.«se in this country. There . are no glass sides, no transparencies, nothing to show to the outside public the sad contents that they bear, and as Mrs. lob saw this coming toward her, horrible with its black, nodding plumes, and dreary in its wet gloominess, a strage and aw-1 lul idea took possession of her. Nhe I knew the driver, he had taught side | by side with her husband in the Sunday school. She now waved her stiffened and j dripping hand to him, calling him by name. “Mr. Knighton! Mr. Knighton!” Now Mr. Knighton’s calling did i not allow him to be over-sensitive in ’ the matter of nerves and he had looked upon many a blood curdling horror unmoved, but this woman’s ; hoarse voce calling him so strangely, , at such a time and in such a place. ) made him considerably agitated, ij “By Jupiter! ma’am—who the—s “It is only 1. Mr Knighton,” cried r dripping lirtl Mrs. Bob, putting her i I head out from under the bush. “I’m J caught in a storm with all my good I clothes on, and no umbrella—” 3 . “You don’t say!” exclaimed the 3 j puzzled and embarrassed driver. I “You don't say.”

“I shall get drenched!” continued ! Kitty, looicing dubiously at him, wnlle a told stream trickled down the side of her face in a dangerous ’ proximity to the bonnet “Do you think if I—do you think I It would he any harm if I— you suppose I would d e of fright if I—” “If you—what?” echoed the man, looking at her in open-mouthed astonishment. Now Mrs. Bob was a healthy woman with no nerves. To her a wet bonnet and ruin to one’s best clothes j weighed heavy in the balance w.th । any unpleasant iea or false sca-e 1 She reached up on her tiptoes and unfastened the d or of the vehicle ami looked in. She reached up her hand and felt the outside of thesklrt i that covered the pink bonnet Damp—very damp nn‘o f he, P 1116 Mr. Knighton, said she turning red to herear' “1 believe I will—” ’ 1 in a dream the hearse dirver de- ■ scended from his box. in a dream he “boosted” pretiy little Mrs Bob up into a depressed heap on the floor of the carriage, where, having taken off and tarefully examined her feathers, be saw her give a sigh of relief, and, having made herself as comfortable as the circumstances permitted, she motioned to him to go on. _ 1 ^“sb«n fayt. or slow, ho asked. rmOboMng sure lust pace ueroimu ,>,. ‘5 just. Jn(j er such extraordinary circumstances. “Fast.” cal ed Kitty. “Drive me to the livery stable, then you can lend me an umbrella and I’ll get home safely.” What that drive was to Mrs. Butterworth no one knows, but when she sat on her husband’s knee that night ami confessed the whole thing to him, she added pathetically. “I don’t feel as if it had paid. Bob.” “1 should think not,” said he, trying to straighten his face so as to show aisappioval. “What possessed you, anyhow?” ••‘The serpent tempted me,’” quoted Kitty, rubbing her eye> and looking foolish. “if you had ruined that pink tag it would have cost me three guineas,” said ne, parentheti ally ag!” cr.ed Kilt . “The loveliest thing you ever—•” "Just think how it would to have the >unday school get hold of the story!’cnel Boh. unfeelingly. “Celia would never have spoken to m<- again.” meditatively. • And the servant,’ added Mr. Butterworth. "U • ■ i ver * ; cboMt to leprimmd her|she w m d look at you and ask. ‘Do ye mind the lime ye rode in the I earse?’” “Oh!” exclaimed Kitty, overcome by the 'Uggcstion. “The tn ral Is— ’’ began B<>U Mrs. Bob put her fingers tn her ears. “i know the moral.” said she. running upstairs and leaving him laugh Ink- I . “i h, you silly woman,” said _ pAUnHig once 4«MWu to *uUA tori' , you weak, s liy, vain, foolish, absurd, ridiculous thing—l’m ashamed of you.” And with pu kered Iqx and one more reproving glance at herself, Mrs. Bob made a final ad eu to tbe 'erpent and went !<i Bed. < in his way to t< wo tbe next morn ing. Mr Butterworth ciibd at the livery stable and sjient ten minutes alon< with Mr. Knighton. What pa'sed between them no one can tell- I’m sure I can’t, and Bob did not. and maylie Mr Knighton dare not. Indeed. I should never have known an th ng about it if 1 had not lieen Mrs. Bob’s si'ter. — Waverly Maga j zine. Powdered Sugar lor lliceoughs. • Why don't you 'top that ho coughing?" asked a man of a friend, , who was convulsed with the annoying convulsions in the street near the A'tor House the other day. “stop them,” gulped the other. “I—l—wish 1 could Held my breath fifteen minutes -drank ni: e swallows- water; nine times. Tried to scare myself; made Believe lost my watch. No good. They w n’tga” “Will you buy, if 1 care them for you?” asked the first speaker, laugh- . ing at the frequent interruptions in his friend’s description of bis troubles. The other gasped an affirmative reply, and the two en tered the rotunda. "Give this man a heaping barspoonful of powdered sugar.” said the friend to the barkeeper. The man did so. "Now, swallow : t ' continued the speaker t<> tli" victim o£_ hi <■•>’> -ha The latter essayed to do so. and succeeded after some little effort, for it is not an eas matter to swallow a mouthful of powdered sugar. When l.e mastered it he looked inquiringly at h s friend. “Well, where are our hiccoughs now?” remarked the other with a | smile i "They seem to have gone,” be replied, but they'll come 1 ack again, I suppose, after a ittle while.” “If they do.” said the friend, “it will be the fit't case 1 know of where powdered sugar has failed to I give relief for hiccoughs. If one spoonful of sugar won’t do it-, two certainly will. So far as 1 know, it’s a positive remedy.” New York Heri aid. Dm j-. There is no evil that we cannot either face or flee from but the consciousness of duty disregarded. A sense of duty pursues us ever. It is omnipresent Duty performed or I duty violated is ever with us, for our happiness or our misery. A woman looking for a rich hus- , band is wonderfully like a confidence | man looking for a farmer. |

j HOME AND THE FARM. A department made up for OUR RURAL FR'-ENDS. f " r Se "‘ DK Fe« l s err . < Urn ‘ ntS F»U Feed Savln B Grapes from Frost-Har.-vestin K Potato^arge trop , Fay Best Small Fruits. Early fall is an excellent time to set out small fruits and provide agamst the lack of them which we term Y dllrinkr the beat ed ^r^rnJ ? SP e i r , rie , 8 ' blackbe rries and currants are all deservedly nonular and LealU,, rood, an,l ib/y the great mentof re luiring very littlecultivation. J Blackberries and raspberries may ! be grown on any soil except a very i heavy clay or one that is liable to re- ■ main water-soaked. They are generally propagated by cuttings and should be planted so as to allow the roots to grow before the ground freezea It is considered beneficial tO CUt back- thn *_ — inches of the ground after planting The earth should I e pressed firmly about them sq th tthe soil and roots may cpm** int ° close contact Rasp- ' PTTrrfo - should be set about four feet apart and Black berries six or seven. Ihe red vai i ties of raspberries are not so ha dy as the black or the blackberries. All, however, require to be heavily mulched with manure before winter. If manure is not accessible, an extra ai o int ofearth should be placed about the plants, but it must lie removed in the spr ng. Red raspberries will yield excellent crops for eight year', and fair ones for another eight, while blackberries last even ; longer. A mspberry be 1 may ue formed in th" fall with a little care, so as to give fruit the next ve r. This in accomplished by digging up plants with a quantity of earth about them and carefully resetting and watering them The tops must then be shortened in and naif the foliage removed from the canes which should be left three feet in length. Currants and got scbeiries deserve to be much more extmi'iyelv grown than they are at present They are sure annual and abundant bearers, are grown with little trouble and require only to Be kept free from weeds. Currants arc propagat d with the greatest ease fromeutt ngs, which should l>e less than a root tn length when set. They should be Inserted slanting, a > that only the top bud is atove ground, They will do well on am k,n i of soil, t ut, as a rule, the richer the s >il and the better the eulthatinn the heavier the crop and the larger the berries. Plenty of moisture re .aired. The plants need rem wing ev ry six or sight years. Gooseberrycuttings also root easily, but many prefer lavering. The gooseberry is a gross feeder and require' a rich, moist loam, but not droughty. wiv “♦wa 'entq» wten grown in tm- full esu*—fruit is ii t to mildew on the sunny u The genera! cultivation is much th" 'ame a~ tint of the currant, hilt more ca e is required The EnglGh varieties are much tlm r than th? native, but are also more liable to mildew. Tae disease can. however, be successfully k« ;>t in check By means of spray pumpsand lungicidca Cn»|H l’i*v It rarely happens that a Big crop is produced at ah 'S Tne extra work re juired to secure a larg yield per acre always pm letter than does a lik ■ amount of lab >r spread over a wider ae i. There are limitati ns to the amount of fertility that can t>e profit ah. v provided for ea h crop, as every tanner knows. Nome need a dillerent kind of fertilizing than do others. There .re gross feeders and what we may call delicate feeders. M'.»t gardens vegetables are gross feeders. 'The "dl cannot le made too rich for • abbage or celery or the large root cru]s. They all require liberal supplies of nitrogen. Corn also needs rich land. It s helped by c arse unfermented manures, b cause in the soil .their decomposition furnishes beat, and this B all important to make C'>rn grow. The same application of < oarse staole manure to 'O-1 detie ent in mineral plant food w llin juiewhe.it or o'her small grain, making rhe straw weak and liable to rust But 'tattle manure on land where there :s jdenty of potash and phosphate will often make a large crop by rendering the mineral fertility available. It is economy, howe'er. to appiv the 'table manure to co>n, and .i t it' second year ede t g ■ irto the wheat, utUa to Uotoj Itoat follows it. Saving <;rapes from Frost. It almost always happens that after the first-everefrost, destr ying grape foliage, there often comes one or two weeks of line, warm weather, when the vines that have been protectea wilt ripen their fruit thoroughly. We have ripened the lona ana the Catawba grapes, both of which need too long a seas n for ordinary ripening in the open air, by covering the trellises with a sheet each night, removing it n the morning. This is a material help, even when there is no frost, for on clear nights there is always a heavy dew, which chills fruit and leaves. There is little i r no ripening of uncovered grapesat night. With a slight covering to keep off the dew the ripening process may go on all the twenty-four hours. Every one who has grown grapes beside a house knows that the finest clusters and those earliest to ripen are always found under wide awnings, where they have been protected from c Id and rain. Harvesting potatoes. For home use the early varieties of potatoes should be dug before cool weather sets in, and to add to their

keeping qua'ities they should ve ’ stored in a dark room above ground until freezing weather comes, when they should be removea to the cellar, or stored in pits, the cellar being preferable if entirely frost proof, btoriug early potatoes in a cellar before cold weather should be avoided, any , shelter above ground being preferaI b*e By this plan decayed or partly decayed tubers can be throwout when removing to the cellar. They may also be piled in larger quantities t ian they were earlier in the season. ie short po ato crop this season should insure good prices. Hence it is well to look very closely after every detail ot the harvest. In gathering, the small unmarketable ones should be saved as the chances are that they will have a good market value at planting time. Comparative Hardiness of Swine. I Swine have very little hair as compared with other domestic animals They are exposed in our American climate to hotter summers and generally to colder winters than in Europe, though the last few years European winters have been more V,., ~o Haar, TKa somewhat coar<e-boned breeds, like I oland Chin i and Berkshire, are therefore preferred by Western breeders, while for those who aim to i provifie comfortable shelter for the hogs, a cross of these with the Essex or small Yorkshire will be more profitable. There arc many who like a white hog best, and for such we know nothing better than the Cheshire. which is the only breed originating in this country without cross, ing with other stock, and therefore liable 'o frequent variations from the usual type. Oafs as Fall Feed. In some localities farmers sow oats or barley on their corn and potato grounds, to be ted aown in the fall. It is a good practice. ; nd the feed thus procurea will in most cases be worth more than the cost of seed and the work of harrowing it in. After a very dry summer, as we have had, the soil is full of available nitrogen. When fall rains come this makes any plant grow vigorously. I> th oats and barley will continue to grow after light frosts, and until the soil itself Iree.es. The fertility they thus draw from the soil will Be washed aw.iy and lo't if it is leit naked through the winter, and will protect tbe fertility from wasting. We have known laith rye and wheat to make some growth in warm, wet weather in winter. In popularity of the Mulberry Tree. It is a curious fact that no insect but the silkworm will willingly eat the leaves of the mulberry tree. In seasons when the grasshopper or the army worm alsounds every other tree and plant may Be stripped ot its fol age by the devourers, but the mulberry tree will escape to the last Kansas locustswill eat ever th ta kle the mulberry leaves. It seems to Be the one food specially aesigned by nature for the support of tbe silkworm. Carbolic Acid for Foul Brood. A German bee-keei er reports entire success in the care of foul brood with carboTcacid. As generally employed the acid is a failure, being too weak if diluted and driving out the t ees if full st ength. The experimenter used lull strength a teaspoonful mixed with as much tar, put under frames in a little box. open enough to allow evaporation, but Bee tight It should be used every three months. A T >mato raised this season by Namu i I rich of Marion, i a., weighed 1“ pounds and measured 19 inches around. , Liqi ii* putty for green house work is made of 30 per cent white lead, with pure lin-eed oil and whiting. Apply w.th a putty bulb. A< \r load of Oregon fruits received in tbe East consisted of Bartlett pears, silver, Italian, German, and Hungarian prunes and egg plums. Where can you get a better picture to hang over your desk than an accurate map of your farm, with the fields numbered and correctly mea - ured? Prof. Roberts of Cornell, says the great dittb ulty with farming is too much or too little mo store, and too little cultivation, thus indicating the necessity of drainage. M . A. W. Pope says of alfalfa: “It g es down further an i come- up fas er than common clover. Tbe quality of the hay is zood, but it is Hard to cure. I get three crops the yea ■ following the planting.” The best way to keep honey from "indying. says a writer, is to seal it i tight jais, the same as fruit. This is the way that the bees do, and it is the only safe way. It should be tbor.ii ghly heated before putting up. Cvked udder, in its first stages, it is said, can be quickly relieved by copious applications of hot waterhot as the hands can stand. Vaseline is a first-class application for sore teats: sometimes the teats get badiy scratch d by briars or by barbs on wire fences. Prof. 1. P. Roberts, writing tn the “Kurai New Yorker” from California. says: “All trees are inclined to overbear. It is the American story over again. Too much! Toe mu h! When will the time come when an ‘overment’ will not be ever present in the principal food products, so that e onomy and thrift may take tbe place of ca eiess, ignorant squandering?” ============= When a man gives up a marriage engagement be ause the woman is not a member of his church, the real facts are that he is in love with another woman.

ABOUT THE WEASEL. A Graceful Little Creature. Full of Shyness, Shrewdness and Cruelty. The weasel is one of the prettiest and most graceful creatures that can be imagined. It lives in all cool countries and makes its home in hollow trees, in stone bea ; s, or in any convenient hole where it can find shelter. it is no larger than a good-sized rat. but has longer legs. It has a long, lithe slender body, long neck and dainty little head, wi h small smooth sleek hair, of a brown color on its ’ ack and white below. It has long whiskers on its nose and a very short tail. Its weapons are its strong daws and sharp teeth, which it knows how to use so well that many larger animals live in constant terror of it. The weasel itself has very few enemies. Even the powerful birds of prey, which are ever on the alert for rabbits and other small game, rarely swoop down on the weasel, for although they can easily carry it away in their strong talons t often proves very troublesome flapping its wings violently and an parent.lv in threat trouble. Suddenly - it darted, and fell to the earcti almost at the hunters feet, where it lay gasping ana aying, while a tiny weasel sprang from the heap o; feathers and scampered away to hide itself in the stone wall near by. Q n examining the bird the hunter found that its throat was torn to pieces by the weasel’s sharp teeth. The little , creature, although unable to escape , irom the powerful grip of tbe hawk, had twisted itself until it could reach the hawk’s throat, when it easily inflicted a deadly wound i The defenseless hares and rabbits i are bitterly persecutea by the wea- , sei, which springs upon them, and ; with wonde.ful instinct, knows exi actiy where to fasten its sharp teeth- ■ The unfortunate bare may scamper . away as fast as he can, but its enemy clings to its neck, and the poor little animal must soon fall, faint and dying, fiom loss of blood. i Rats and mice, s jiirrels, moles, ■ frogs, and birds of ail Kinds are hunted by tbe weasel, and it may often be seen twisting itself in and out of stone heaps or walls in the vic.nity of barnyards, where it watches for chickens, doves and other domestic fowls. If taken very young, weasels may be tamed, and a whole army of cats will not free a house so quickly ot rats and mice as will one little -weasel. Pussy must sit patiently by the rat’s hole and wait until the mischievous beast ventures forth; but where a rat can go, the weasel can follow. Weasels and ferrets are often kept on board of ships and are petted by the sailors, for a ship with a weasel as passenger is always free from rats. i Therp »rp iinnv r.rottv ctnvt— c-’J of tame wease s and of the affection they manifest toward those who care for them. A lady who received a present of a very small and very young weasel fed it with milk, which itdiank from her band. The little creature became so attached to its mistress that whenever she called it, it would instantly appear from whatever corner in which it was curled ub and would climb all over her like a s uirrel. it never bit her, and would play with her cat and dog, often riding around on their backs, but it never injured them Its curiosity afforded its mistress much amusement It she opened a box or trunk, Master Weasel would raise himself on his hind legs and make every effort to peep inside. This little creature is much hunted by man, and large numbers a e caught in traps, it Being a general ■ impression that they do more harm than good; but- although a weasel may nowand then carry off a chicken from the farmyard, it does much more good by freeing barns and cornfields of mice and other small destruc- . tive animals. —Troy Press. A Tolerably Mean Man. “1 saw a close second to the meanest man on earth when I was Deputy . Coroner,” remarked Al .Murphy, the political writer. “Ho was the owner ; of a grocery store. Une < vening a young strange; walked into his place of business, went directly to tbe , counter where the cheese was kept and pickir g i p the mammoth knife ' used in cutting cheese, deliberately disemboweled himself with half a dozien sweeps of the terrible blade. “The body was taken to the m rgue, and with it the blood-stained kniie, to be used as evidence at the inquest. Auer the jury had brought in its verdict I. commenced wrapping up the exhibits in the case and putting them away. ’The grocer watched me uneasily, and as I started out of the office he stopped me with. ‘Say, ain’t I going to get my knife back?’ 1 told h m that the Coroner usually kept such things at the morgue T don't care, he continued, in a surly tone, ‘that’s my knife and 1 want it. I need it.’ “ You wouldn’t take that back to cut cheese with, would you?’ I asked in surprise. ‘Well, I don’t know any reason why I shouldn’t That knite cost me six bits, and if I don't get that IT! have t ■ buy another. That fellow dldn t dull it much, so I guess it is about as good as new.’ "But he didn't get tne knife.” A Gentleman. What is it to be a gentl man? Is it to be honest, to be gentle, to be generous, to be brave, to be wise and, possessing all these qualities, to exercise them in the most graceful outward manner? Ought a gentleman to be a loyal son, a true husband, and honest father? Ought his life to be decent—his bills to be paid—his tastes to be high and elegant—his aims in life lofty and ucble? —Thackeray.