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TO A FRIKN'D IX AFFLICTION.
BY THE KEV. MCNFOBD.
I know in grief like thine how more than vain
Ml comfort to the stricken heart appears.
Ami as the bursting cloud must spend its rain,
So grief its tears.
I know that when thy little darling's form
Had fteod the living spirit fettered there.
You could not pierce Beyond the breaking
storm
In your despair.
You only knew those preeious eyes Were dim ;
Yon only felt the silent lips were cold;
You onlv clung to what remained of him
Beneath the mold.
You could not see the tender hand that caught
Your little lamb to shield him from all
harms.
You missed him from your own, but never
thought
Of Jesus' arms.
I’.ut, oh! young mother, look! The gate unbars!
And through the darkness smiling from the
skies
A re beaming on you brighter than those stars,
Y*our darling's eyes.
1 - said that when the pastures clown among
i e Alpine vales have ceased to feed the
flm-ks,
A they must mount where yet the grass is
young.
Far up the rocks,
■ -hepherd takes a little lamb at play
A r.d lifts him gently to his careful breast;
A w ith its tender bleating lea<ls the way
For all the rest.
1 it quiet the mother follows in the path;
* lien others go—like men of faith and hopes—
Aud soon the -Shepherd gathers all he hath
High up the slopes.
And in those everlasting hills he feeds
The trusting fold in green that never palls!
l otu|i! Oh.see! Y'our little darling leads!
The Shepherd calls.
—■Atlanta Constitution.
itttu iuufl Ucmo ;SertalP.
AMONG THE PHILISTINES*
by MP.S. NORA LIP MAN lICSSEY
CHAPTER XVII.
As the spring advanced Charlotte and I
_Mn to talk more seriously about Mrs.
IP vward’s plan for the summer.
The result was that early in July, just
lore the closing exercises of the Ac&de
i: i y were duly solemnized, we took up our
abode in Rysfoth.
flie Werners, who had now become im
( riant factors ia our social life, could
• t t>e left behind. And getting them set
tled in their rented cottage was a work of
love to all of us.
••If it only were not for the eternal ‘re
la arsing,”’ Ruth exclaimed, coining in
heated and tired one afternoon, “one
mnrbt find some rest.”
•■•When this cruel war is over,’ M An
il tt * Werner began to hum, softly.
••Exactly,” Ruth concurred, heartily,
dropping into a low chair by my side.
We were all huddled together in Lois’
little front porch.
••It is fearfully crowded here,’’ Ruth ex
claim l. alter a few moments. “It’s al
t gi !h< r too crowded to give one a sense
*. t rest. Come, Annette, I want to go into
th - t tin -room and take things comfort a
bh while you play to me.”
••What au imperious little teacher you
hn b. come,’* I cried, laughing.
-Let me go, aunt Rutbie,” Liska, ex
el.i ; i 1. timidly. “I love best of all to
p!a\ In the sunset-time.”
It • the same dreamy nature,” Lois
> , !. s- ftly. as Ruth ami Liska left us.
*•’l.-u aven’t succeeded yet in making
.it >r iinarvchild of her. Demine.”
• li. iv n’t tried, my dear. I’ve only
m .n effort t > secure strong nerves for
1;. r. That is the main aim to be held in
\ i the training of girls; more espe
i.f _'irls of her kind. She sleeps
, and eats heartily; and hr studies do
n i: velop into monomanias now as
th- v did formerly.”
•• In ;t is a step forward, certainly,”
I*,. ■ vd, as I ceased. “Olin would be
•hi:-in iit he coukl see how rosy and
rm l i r face is. By the way, any further
new- from Russia?”
•N n*- whatever. I ordered my mail
: ro i■. .led here, and am looking for a let
ter to-morrow.”
••I .innot rid myself of the idea that
* i t Farevna’s letter will afford some
cl . . It is unreasonable to suppose that
, v. Id simply give the fact of his inar
ri without auy explanation what
asonable, yes; but not Impossi
. I. -ley,” Lois said, slowly. “Ac
's tig toblin’s letter the Count knew he
w - forfeiting his birthright, and he
•n . 'ii naturally conclude that his father
v. dd want no unnecessary words about
the matter.”
V- -lit* ceased Liska’s music rose to a
I cb-r -train, and we sat silently listen
ing.
It was one of Mendelsohn’s *‘Songs
w .sit Words”—the plaintive “Regret.”
l.i -It y sat at my right hand. On her
was in rely the shadow of
- ■.'.(•ath tic attention. Charlotte sat at
nV. l-?tt hand, and on her face a darker
shadow rested.
I thought l coukl read her mind; and
inv h* art erew sadder as l retraced the
years with her and felt deepest regret for
th brave sailor whose liftvending still re
mained a mystery.
F .in the “Regret,” by sweetest modula
tions. Liska glided into the “Consola
ti* in,” and finally the slumber-song
p- i led the twilight with dreams.
“I’ve played her to sleep,” the child
said, coming out to us. “Do you know,”
- ‘"Utinued. coming to my side, “I’ve
!>•. ■ thinking of Mrs. Browning’s ‘ Bertha
in t! ■ Lane’—of the sister whose liie was
•r -lined from the cold.’ That ought to
f. I t aunt Ruthie.”
“What do you know of Mrs. Browning,
je i little witch?” Bob cried, laughing,
and reaching over to pull her curls.
••lb tl am not a ‘little witch.’ I shall
s. n in twelve years old. And Annette
and l have read Mrs. Browning many
tim - for‘die Mutterchen.’ ”
“What a queer little thing you are;
ie \ anything but a Bohemian,” Bobex
e! im and, thoughtlessly.
A .lark shadow swept over the child’s
fa . usd her lips trembled as she an
swered softly:
“I have no' higher ambition than that,
uncle Conway!”
“A noble ambition, Liska,” Charlotte
sa. 1. drawing the child to her. “There
ar. many Bohemians who have made the
" id belter by their dreaming and work
ing.”
"ac lifted the little face—very pale now
and sorrowful—and kissed it tenderly.
“ Will you come with me to put ice in
tin te i. Liska?” Lesley asked, cheerlully;
and, without waiting for her answer,
sL drew the child gently towards the
dining-room.
••That was a thoughtless speech. Bob,”
I said, when the child was out of hear
ts-. •—i * has never forgotten the sad
kn v. It ago that Meßhea unwisely im
parted to her.”
Min was a fool, and I’ve been worse,”
B xelaimed, petulantly, “1—”
But his waiting boy came up with the
alt. muon mail, and he said no more,
th'c the shadow still rested on his
face.
“Nu letter for you, Max,” he said,
-i v. -One for Ruth. I guess that had
' ‘.e put under her plate as a sur-
Oh tor Lesley, from Scotland.
-V prepare for a shock —one for Miss
i. tte. covered with postmarks. Let’s
Gibraltar—Yeddo. Spirit of the
w, Jew! where lias this letter
in a? Here, Miss Charlotte, I’ll
■ :i longer.”
M awhile his faithful servant. Mad
d- .. -: mhl waiting patiently.
“Well. Maddox?”
“Dr. Heyward says you may expect
th* 11 after tea, sir.”
“How nice that is!” Lois exclaimed.
“And Maddox!” calling to the retreating
in -r >. --Oet out vour marse Bob’s buggy
an i _ . ..vcr for madame Werner. “Don’t
co.i.e back without her. Tell Herr
Werner that we will not go in to tea till
h** comes.”
“How very good you are!” Annette
said. “I was just trying to make up my
mind to say good-bye.”
“I'm sorry I’ve been able to sec so lit
tle •.| j ur mother,” Loi6 said, cordially.
“My school duties are imperative just
now. you know. Has your father done
anything more to his picture? ’
“1 believe he has. He says yours has
made him dissatisfied jvith his own.”
“I shan’t be able to finish mine,” she
answered. “I shall have to give it up to
your father, at the last. 1 know.. I can feel
the tragidy, but I ean’t execute it.”
“Your grouping is beautiful, and the
woman in the foreground is well
nigh perfect. But your prophet’s face
lacks s<' i nett ing which I cannot describe,”
Annette answered, candidly.
“How can you expect a woman to exe
cute a man’s idea?” Bob exclaimed,
breaking into the talk.
“1 don’t understand,” Annette replied,
slowly.
“Lois’ conception of that picture would
\ •Entered according to act of Congress in the
Lear lsS4 by J. H. EstiU, in the office of the
librarian of Congress at Washington.
do credit to a man’s brain, I mean to say,”
he exclaimed; “but Lois is a woman, and
her own idea is too vast for her—”
“For shame, Robert!” Ruth cried,
looking at him from a sitting-room win
dow.
“I thought you were dreaming!” he ex
claimed.
“So I was; but I think the spirit of
vour orthodoxy awoke me. I’ve only
heard your explanation of some foregoing
remark which, judging from the explana
tion, must have been overwhelmingly
wise. Will you be kind enough to tell me
how a brain can at one and the same time
conceive a plan and fail to find means for
its execution ?”
“Maxwell, will you be kind enough to
answer my learned and logical sister?”
Bob cried, helplessly.
Seeing Herr Werner behind the shrub
bery I delayed my answer, and waited for
his coming.
“Just in time, Herr von Werner?” I
cried, as he opened the gate. “Now,
Ruth, here’s a Daniel come to judment.
Appeal to him.”
“Good evening, friends,” coming into
our midst, and taking the chair vacated by
Charlotte. “Give me one moment of
time,” he continued, in his comical
broken-English. “Now, my dear little
Ruth, is it geometry or astronomy this
time?”
“Neither!” Bob cried, laughing. “It is
metaphysics!”
( “Lieber Herr Gott!” deliberately de
positing his hat on the flo r.
“It is this, Herr Werner,” Ruth said:
“Robert has made a statement, the start
ling wisdom of which awoke me just in
time to hear his explantion, which was to
this effect: ‘Lois’ conception of that
picture would do credit to a man’s brain;
but Lois is a woman, and her own idea is
too vast for her— ’ ”
“Ye-es,” he interrupted, shrugging his
shoulder. “Ye-e-s; so I myself have
said—”
“But, sir,” Ruth urged, “isn’t it out of
all reason that we should be able to con
ceive an idea which we cannot execute?”
“Most certainly not,” with comical
emphasis. “You can conceive a very ac
curate idea of the working of the solar
system. You draw the plan on your
black-board. But how you execute that
idea, eh? Now, Madame Conway—she
imagine the sublimity of horror! But she
see no horror in a countenance ever.
How she execute the prophet’s face,
then? It is not weakness of the woman’s
brain, my friend. It is simply ignor
ance 1”
“Now you have an expression for
what I found wanting. Lois,” Annette
cried, eagerly. “The sublimity of horror 1
My father, you see, felt the same want—”
The buggy stopped at the side entrance
as she spoke, and Lois had to leave us.
Soon aftei ward the tea bell rang, and
we walked into the dining-room to find
Madam Werner already occupying a seat
at Lois’ right hand, and smiling in the
cordial, foreign fashion as she answered
our greetings.
As we were leaving the table I man
aged to get a few words with Charlotte.
“Y’our letter,dear?”
“Was from Welborn. He wrote from
Yeddo three months ago.”
“Then you were right all along; he was
not drowned.”
“No.” The quiet happiness in that
monosyllable is indescribable. “And he
is coming home,” taking fresh breath.
“I thank God for you, sister!”
During the mingled conversation after
tea, Lois drew near me.
“Miss Charlotte had a foreign letter?”
she asked, hesitating a little.
“Yes. Do you remember Di;. Craig?”
“Faintly. It has been years ago, you
know.”
“Yes. Fifteen. Well, he was to have
married Charlotte alter his first voyage.
He was the surgeon on one of Her Majes
ty’s ships,” I explained, answering her
questioning eyes. “The ship was
wrecked. We heard nothing from him;
and everybody but Charlotte gave him up
for lost. He is coming home.”
“Not drowned!” she ejaculated.
“Hardly. Ghosts don’t send letters
through the mail,” I answered, smiling at
her startled face.
“And it has been fifteen years! Why
hasn’t she heard before?”
“You must ask Charlotte, my dear.”
CHAPTER Will.
“What a very interesting family we are
getting to be.” Ruth murmured, taking
her seat by Charlotte’s side, and prepar
ing to hear about Dr. Craig. “What
with a mysterious Polish girl, and a re
turning voyager, I think we might as well
go into book-form at once.”
“And a half-crazy German painter,”
Charlotte assented,'smiling. “I think
Herr Werner is really the most interest
ing one of us—”
“But not the best known,” Lois inter
rupted. “Now, please, will you not tell
us about the letter. Miss Charlotte?”
“Well! It was written from Yeddo
three months ago. Welborn”—here*the
irrepressible Ruth laughed softly—“Wel
born says bis ship was wrecked some
where near the Friendly Islands; and
that for a long while be floated around
among what must have been the islands
of the Central Archipelago. He doesn’t
enter into particulars; and, really, his
letter is a little vague. Anyhow', after
months of trial and hardship he reached
Sidney, New South Wales, without a cent
and much broken down in health and
spirits. Accidentally making friends
with the Captain of an India-bound mer
chantman he secured passage toCalcutta.
There he made himself known to the
British officials, and the kind English
hearts were opened to him at once.”
“Why did he not go at once to England
from Calcutta?” Lesley asked.
“He was not a wealthy man at home,
nor one of a wealthy family. He had
been disappointed in his main purpose,
and I suppose he thought India as good a
country as any other in which to accumu
late a fortune—”
“Better!” Bob interrupted. “And still
the interest grows, Ruth J” he cried, ex
ultantly. “Our sailor is not only wrecked,
but is coming home to exhibit Indian
magnificence. I believe you said he is
coming home, Miss Charlotte?” quizzi
cally.
“Yes; but not as you say. Welborn
could never become a rich man. I think
he is too scrupulously just for that.”
“We will not argue the point,” Bob re
plied, condescendingly. “Prepare your
fatted calf, Lois. Miss Charlotte will
show us a returned prodigal after a few
weeks.”
“Y’ou are altogether too talkative, Rob
ert,” Ruth cried. “But isn’t he coming
rich, Miss Charlotte? Please let us have
it all in regular story-book style.”
“Y’ou must wait' and see, dear. He
doesn’t say one word about that. He
only says he is at last satisfied with the
results of his efforts in India and Japan,
and has secured passage on the next
steamer.”
“Bring us a lexicon, please, Lesley,”
Ruth said, very demurely. “Such lan
guage requires translation.”
We were all happy; and happy people
find it easy to laugh.
“What a merry family!” nerr Werner
exclaimed, coming into the sitting-room.
“It is Saturday; so I said there will be
leisure at Frau Conway’s.”
“And so there is,” Lois answered.
“Ruth and I will have to leave you alter
a while; but for an hour or two we can
take things comfortably. There are a
few r little touches to be added to the deco
rations in the Academy chapel; after
which we can take breath and prepare
for the race next week. After next week,
there will be eight weeks of blessed
rest.”
“Ah, that is good!” rubbing his hand to
gether in true German tashion. “And
when does the young Dr. Heyward re
turn?” looking towards Ruth.
“On the fifteenth,” Lois answered, see
ing that Ruth was resolutely silent.
“Ah! 1 congratulate you,” his eyes
still upon Ruth, who was blushing pret
tily.“ Then we will be a finished £*imi
lv—”
“What were you saying yesterday
about Lois’ inexperience, Herr Werner?”
Ruth interrupted. “Y’ou know we did
uot settle that dispute.”
“Y’es; yes. I know. It is this, my
dear madame,” turning impulsively to
Lois. “You want your prophet’s face to
say, ‘Mein Gott, is this the worship of my
people?' and you want his expression to
tell all that is revealed to him ot cursings
and destruction, eh ? Or you want simply
horror—which?”
“Both,” Lois answered.
“Ah, yes. I see—l see,” he chuckled.
“Y’ou have the wisdom of genius, madame.
Well! The sorrowful • knowledge you
have already expressed. But the horror
you do uot get. Why ? Not because you
cannot; simply because you know not.
Once I was iu Warsaw.' Winter before
the last, I think. And a man there, a no
bleman. be discovered a Nihilist. The
authorities are directed to hunt him
down. Afterward lam by his side when
he shot himself: and I see horror ip his
friend’s face. Then, lor all time, I know
horror. Y’ou see?”
“Did that happen two winters ago ? Did
vou know the parties?” I asked, eagerly, a
strong intuition seizing me.
“No. I was hard-working artist, get
ting read v for America, you know. I was
THE SAVANNAH MORNING NEWS: SUNDAY, JUNE 1, 1884.
in the Cafe taking my rest from my pic
ture. They were noblemen, both. One
was English, I know; because he had the
English manner. He said nothing at all
loud. He made no—what you say?—
scene. But his face taught me horror.”
“W r ould you know the face of the Rus
sian?”
“Y’es; yes. A beautiful face. Olten I
watched* him. He would have made my
Adonis; but there was too great power in
his face. Adonis—the Greek—must be in
sincere and beautiful.”
I slipped out of the room, leaving him
talking to Lois; procured the locket from
Liska, who was assisting Lesley in some
household work, and returned to the sit
ting-room.
“Do you know this face?” I asked.
‘•Du lieber Herr Gott!” he exclaimed,
in consternation. “Whose is this?”
“Liska’s. Say nothing about it. I only
wanted to satisfy my mind. This is the
child’s father. But’we cannot prove it
so. Y’ou must not tell her. Y’ou were in
Warsaw. Did you hear the singer, Mon
tani?”
“Y’es, yes: and the Englishman washer
slave. All Warsaw knew that. A grand,
blue-eyed Englishman.”
‘•Y’es; I know. Conway’s cousin: Olin
Meßhea. Was Carevna, the Russian, seen
much with Montani?”
“I cannot say. 1 think not. I never saw
them together. And every day she is driv
ing with the other.”
“After Carevna’s death what hap
pened?”
“They told me in the Cafe that the
Englishman have strong words at mad
ame’s hotel, and say good-bye. That was
artists’ talk; I know nothing but artists’
talk.”
“Y’es; but I am glad to hear it, for it
confirms another story I have heard. Me-
Rhea is abroad now hunting the proofs of
Carevna’s marriage with the singer; hut
none can he found.”
“Ah! ha!” he ejaculated, in the sing
song tone habitual to him when thinking.
“Ah! ha! Is this the madame’s souvenir
sent to Liska? She tell my Annette so
much.”
“Y’es; I brought it from New Y’ork last
winter.”
“Ah! ha! Bv your leave!” suddenly
prizing up the thick glass covering the
face. “We do this often in Dresden. The
picture gets no hurt. We copy it best so.
Ah! ha!” turning the face out of its rest
ing place. “What you tell us, little pic
ture, hey? ‘Stone, photographer, South
hampton.’ That’s nothing. Eh! What’s
this? Y’ou are younger, Herr Maxwell,
can your eyes read the little faded letters?
See! No? Y’ou cannot? Frau Conway,
you have an artist’s magnifying glass.
Y’es? If you please, madame,” as Lois
hastily proceeded to take it Irom among
the many articles on her table. “Ah!
ha!” holding the glass near the picture.
“Ah! ha!, Linda Carevna, River-rest,
Essex. Thank you, little picture. Y’ou
speak well! Here, Herr Maxwell, see for
yourself.”
I bent forward over his hand and read
the words quite distinctly: “Linda Ca
revna, River-rest, Essex.”
“Now, mein Herr, ask Col. Meßhea to
go back to England before he talk any more
with the scoundrelly Russian. Beg par
don, madame,” he said, hastily. “We
Germans have no love for Russians, and
I forgot myself.”
“Do you' think you have gained any im
portant information?” Charlotte asked,
as I re-entered the room after returning
the locket.
“I think we have at last caught the
right thread of the tangle.”
On the fifteenth Bertie came as he had
written. The cottage at once became the
scene of side-talks and blushes, and of
accidental meetings which always ended
in Bertie establishing himself in the din
ing-room where Ruth was learning of Les
ley many housekeeping mysteries.
“Rutli is really ‘going to school’ to you,
as she once said she meant to do,” Lois
laughed one morning, when Lesley had
sliopi and away, leaving the lovers to
gether.
“Just now she is taking a lesson from
Bertie,” she answered, smiling.
“And the lesson is pretty apt to be a
long one,” Bob put in. “Lois, did we make
love so persistently?”
A crimson tide rushed over her face. It
was still a sore subject with her—that
love-making which she had, at best, only
endured.
“Not before wo were married,” she an
swered, softly, laying her hand on his
hair. “But lam happy to say that we
ha-ve had just such talks since, my dear.”
He looked up into her dark eyes, and
smil Vi an answer full of the perfect, ma
tured love that had come to them.
“I don’t think Bertie and Ruth will ever
love as we do, dear,” he whispered, draw
ing the lovely face down to him. “Such
love comes only after sad experiences.”
I heard the words; and Lesley heard
them too, I know, for I saw ii bright
smile illuminate her tearful eyes.
“Which love is best, I wonder?” I
asked her afterwards, when we were walk
ing together among the glowing gerani
ums and the summer’s last roses.
“I should prefer the later love,” she an
swered. “It must be the most endur
ing.”
“But would not one miss the fresh
ness?”
“I cannot tell. It may be. But if one
is to choose between the freshness of
young love and the grandeur of tried love,
It becomes a simple matter.”
“Pardon me, Miss Lesley; but you are
quite different from our American girls.
Do you mean to say that no choice of
love has ever come to you ?”
“Oh, no!” she answered, looking up into
my eyes with the bright smile for which
I had long ago learned to watch. “At
one time, I believe, I became almost a
great favorite in London, and in Scotland
too. But, do you know, I think it was
because I was' always so untouched by
their admiration. I am afraid 1 was un
grateful, really. But the Prince in the
fairy tale never came; and it was he for
whom I was waiting, you know.” She
laughed lightly and continued: “I guess
he must have fallen in his father’s wars.
I’m getting quite old now—twenty-seven
last month. And the Princes iii fairy
tales do not often love their grand
mammas.”
I laughed with her when she ceased.
“So they do not,” I said, smiling still,
and looking down into the sweet eyes.
“But if an ogre should come, what would
the grandmother say then ?”
“I don’t know. Probably she would
laugh at him,” she answered, a trifle un
easily. “Ah, Ruth!” she cried, seeing
the bright face: “there’s news in that
countenance. Come and ’fess, my dear.”
“There is news;” and Ruth’s face
watched the geranium flowers. “Bertie
is such an obstinate fellow! It is really
impossible to manage him at all. Lesley,
what do you say to a wedding in Septem
ber?”
“Isay ‘hurrah for Bertie!’” I cried.
“Come right into the sitting-room and tell
the others.”
“Y’ou tell them, please,” Ruth pleaded,
glancing at Lesley, and tearing her hand
away from me to beat a retreat into the
shrubbery.
CHAPTER NIX.
August dragged itself along, and each
day brought me fresh disappointment, for
I heard nothing from Meßhea since hav
ing written about the little picture.
Annette and Liska were my only com
panions now. Lois and Lesley wery busy
superintending Ruth’s affairs, thus afford
ing her and Bertie unlimited courting
time.
“1 won’t have any fuss about it,” Ruth
had said, stoutly. “Bertie and 1 are go
ing to be a sensible couple, and we don’t
want any noise made over us.”
To which we all agreed readily.
The old doctor’s office was made con
spicuous by a flaring new sign—“ Dr.
Heyward & Son.” The young couple were
to live with the doctor until Bertie’s little
cottage could he completed.
There was intense satisfaction all
around when he announced one day, with
his customary nonchalance, that he had
bought the vacant lot next to Lois’ cot
tage. and had already arranged to have
their new house built upon it.
“Hey-day! What does this mean?” he
exclaimed, as he stood in the door of Lois’
sitting-room one in September,
and noticed that, for once, very creditable
order reigned in the room.
“Don’t you remember?” Ruth said, in
a low voice with pathetic emphasis.
“Bertie, have you really no mind at all ?
Dr. Craig!”
“Oh, yes 1 And as we are to be shoved
off next week, we might as well take a
hack seat now, eh? When is the wanderer
to return ?”
“To-morrow. Hush; here comes Miss
Charlotte!”
The following day Lois sent all of us off
to the Werners.
“Notone of you shall stay here,” she
said. “Y’ou may come back to tea, and
I’ll send for Mrs. Werner. But I know
•your ways and your manners,’ as Jenny
Wren used to say; and you shan’t stay
here to chaff dear Miss Charlotte.”
After which, laughing heartily, we pro
ceeded in a body to the Werners, and left
my sister to meet heV lover alone.
“I knew it would all have a story-book
ending,” Ruth said, in a subdued tone,
when we were gathered again in Lois’
sitting-room just before tea. “Just look
at them,” glancing slyly at the quiet
couple on the porch. “Why they look
like they had been married for year's!”
So they did; and just so they looked all
the waythrough. A quiet, middle-aged
couple, whose life-happiuess had come to
them at last.
“I am just beginning to realize that
Miss Charlotte is older than you,” Lesley
said, when we were decorating the sitting
room for the two marriages, which were
to occur at the same time.
“Do I look so very old ?”
“No,” blushing; “butshealways looked
so young. How old is she, really ?”
“Do you think she would quite like me
to tell?” Then, seeing that she already
regretted her question. 1 added quickly,
“Very nearly fifty. Which makes me
just fortv-five.”
Then, as I handed her another garland,
I bent forward, saying softly:
“Is that almost old enough for an
ogre?”
She did not answer, but turned away
hastily.
“How very pretty it is all going to be,”
Dr. Craig said to her, as she turned from
my gaze.
‘•Y’es? lam glad you will like it,” she
answered, her voice trembling some
what.
“Will you not come clown and let me
take your place?” he asked. “Y’ou are
quite tired. Y’our face is flushed; and
your voice is really weak. Y’ou've been
standing on that step-ladder quite a
while.”
“I believe you may,” she assented,
slowly, “and 1 will see how Liska and
Annette are arranging the vases. Mr.
Maxwell will tell you what to do. He un
derstands Lois’ plan perfectly.”
Just two weeks from that time the cot
tage had once more fallen into its accus
tomed serenity.
Bertie and Ruth were off on their bridal
tour; Charlotte ami her husband had gone
at once to the “Farm.”
“I’ve good news for you, Domine,”Lois
cried, coining down the walk to meet
Liska and me as we were returning from
the Werners. “Robert has walked from
his chair to my easel without assistance.”
“I knew we would whip out the doc
tor!” I cried, joyfully, trying to hide the
tears which sprang to my eyes as l looked
at Lois’ happy face. “Hurrah for Dr. Con
way! Why where is Liska?”
1 was answered when I walked into the
room, and saw her sobbing on Robert’s
breast.
“It’s a final reconciliation, is* it?’ I
asked, standing in the door, and looking at
them through a mist. “Bob. old fellow, I
am glad. T can’t say more.”
“I am more thankful than anybody, ex
cept aunt Lois,” Liska said, when we sat
around the dinner-table. “Because you
know I once felt hurt with uncle Conway;
and afterwards, when 1 forgave him, I
loved him much better.”
“Isn’t that just like a woman!” Bob
cried. “Liska, you’ve got the true wo
man’s heart. If you want their love just
make them forgive you first.”
“Is that so?” I asked, glancing quickly
towards Lesley, whose eyes met mine, and
then fell in confusion.
Before I could be answered, Robert’s
servant came to his side.
“Col. Meßhea is coming up the front
walk.”
“Don’t move, Robert!” Lois cried,
drawing him back into lus chair. “Bring
him right in here, will you, Domine? Ah!
Lesley has already met him,” she con
tinued, looking through the door iuto the
hall.
“Bless any soul! I believe you are glad
to see me,” lie cried, as we gathered
around him. “.Bob, old fellow, you are
quite yourself again. Ah, pretty
cousin,” turning to Lois. And I knew at
once that he had won his fight. “Y’ou
haven’t changed except to grow prettier.
It is just delightful to come home and
find such beautiful faces belonging to
you,” he added, slipping an arm around
Lesley. “And here’s my little Liska!
Only she isn’t little any longer. Dear me,
how can one short year make such
changes?” he cried, holding her off to get
a better view of the beautiful face and
the tali, slender figure. “Why child, you
will be a woman grown iu two more
years. Y’es; thank you,” answering Les
ley’s gesture and taking the chair she in
dicated. “Such a happy home-coming
gives one an appetite. Maxwell, 1 hope
you don’t see any disfigurement in my
countenance.”
“Oh, no! A marvelous improvement,”
I stammered, becoming suddenly aware
that I bad been staring.
“Indeed! Thank you.”
But the light in the dark-blue eyes add
ed another meaning to liis tone; and l
knew be understood me.
“And now, Liska, 1 want, you to come
and sit close by my side, while 1 tell these
people a little life-history I learned while
I was abroad.”
We were in the sitting-room after din
ner.
“Weill Once upon a time there was a
beautiful girl who was gifted with a mar
velously sweet voice. She did not have
anyone to teach her that God’s gifts to his
children must not be abused, so her beau
tiful faee and her beautiful voice only
filled her heart with vanity and false am
bition. One day she left her village home,
determined to find the brilliant fortune
which she believed the future must hold
for her. She worked her way from small
theatres in London to small theatres in
Paris. And in the last city her beauty
made its first conquest, and she entered
upon that road to fortune which never yet
ended in anything but tailure. Her voice
procured fame for her; and her beauty
procured great admiration of a certain
kind. She became prosperous, and she
fancied she was happy. She left Paris
and her first lover after awhile and went
to Milan, where she imagined herself en
slaved by another lover of more fascinat
ing power. This man gave the best love
of his life to this undeserving heart; and
they were married. They had fled from
the excitement and gaiety of the life
which a famous prima donna must live,
and had taken up their home in the North
of England. Here this beautiful young
wife discovered that for love of her, and
to make her 'nis wife, her husband had
sacrificed his heritage of enormous es
tates. Then her hot and restless heart
began to reproach him; she began to rebel
at the quiet, peaceful home to which he
had brought her; and finally, when she
discovered that God meant to give her a
child, and that she might perhaps lose
her wonderful voice, her anger and des
peration knew no bounds. When her lit
tle daughter was not quite a year old, she
left her husband and child and quiet
borne, and became once more a famous
singer. The years rolled on. She kept
the secret of her marriage locked within
her depraved heart, and reveled in pleas
ure and sin. And every day she grew to
hate the father and child with deeper in
tensity. One day, when the child was
nearly nine years old, a dear friend of
this poor, deserted husband fell under
this woman’s power and became her
slave. Finally, she led him on until he
was ready to give her his noble name and
take her for his wife. Then the husband,
being made sure that such was the ease,
told his friend the story of his life, after
which—being suspected ot Nihilistic plot
ting—the heart-broken fellow shot him
self. IJis friend was with him when he
committed this rash act. And to this
friend the little daughter was given to be
taken away from her depraved and reck
less mother, and to be placed with good
and true people who might shield her
from her mother’s fate. What is it, little
Liska?” he asked, suddenly, as the sobs
began to rack her slender frame.
“My mamma! My beautiful mamma!”
“Yes; my darling.”
“And she saw the Count tortured for
treason and would not let me tell the
things that would have saved him!”
“She wanted him to die, little Liska.”
“And this noble soul, this true, true
heart, was broken by her?”
“Y’es, little Liska.”
“And she knew I was her child, and
only half claimed me? She knew she
was a wife, and would have married
you ?”
The hysterical voice almost shrieked the
question.
“It is too true, little Liska!”
Without another word the lids dropped
over the wild eyes, and she fell forward,
swooning on his breast.
iTO BE CONTINUED.!
The Sense of Touch.
Peck's Sun.
They were in the grocery store. Said
Brown (seeing a blind man about to en
ter): “Were you aware how delicate the
touch of a blind man is? When nature
deprives us of one sense she makes
amends by bringing the other senses to
extraordinary acuteness. Let me illus
trate by this gentleman. I’ll take a scoop
of sugar and let him feel of it, and you’ll
see how quickly he’ll tell what it is.”
The blind man having entered he was put
to the test. He put his thumb and finger
into the scoop, u®d without hesitation
said: “That is sand.” Everybody
laughed but the grocer. He made three
several attempts at blushing, and then
went into the back shop and kicked his
dog.
Innocent wife: “What do they mean,
Charlie, by straddling a blind? I should
thiuk it would be so much easier to ride a rail
if that is a wav you have of initiating men at
the club.” — Lift.
THE FIELD, FARM AND GARDEN.
We solicit articles for this department,
rhe name of the writer should accompany
the letter or article, not necessarily
for publication, but as evidence of good
faith.
Lapping Crops—No. 2.
IN THE MARKET GARDEN.
lii planting Irish potatoes very early in
the year—in January or early February—
every other row may be manured some
what more liberally than the others, and
if the cultivation is good the potatoes
from the better manured rows even in this
latitude may be harvested for market by
the 10th of May, and at the latest by the
latter part of May,and corn can be planted
at once in the furrows made by plowing up
the potatoes. At this early date ( May 10-
25)potatoes command a much higher price
than they would a month or so later, and,
while the yield would be greater if left to
grow on that much longer, yet the higher
price obtained for the early dug more than
compensates for the difference in yield.
Every other row ean be left for a month
or so if it should prove desirable; but, as
a general rule, it is well to"dig as soon as
they are of marketable size. Where seed
for a late crop is wanted it is necessary
to let them crow on to maturity, which
will bo some time in June; then tney miry
be plowed up and the land given up en
tirely to the corn. I have always found
corn to do finely after potatoes, though
there are other crops that can be grown
as well. Peas, sweet potatoes or toma
toes will do as well as corn generally.
***#*
* When the dwarf English pea is planted
early in January they are through bear
ing with us by the 20th of May, and the
ground may be flushed and then laid off
and planted to tomatoes or corn or peas.
Where the peas were sown in wide rows
(3 or 334 feet) the tomatoes may be set out
two weeks earlier by preparing the pea
middles with three furrows, but it is bet
ter to wait a little longer and turn under
the vines broadcast. This allows of better
preparation of the land.
This lapping of crops or rapid rotation
is a feature of intensive culture and im
plies a very heavy manuring at least once
a year or two. Poor or medium land could
not stand such a practice long without
complete exhaustion. This is wherein
heavy manuring may be made to pay—it
puts the land in a condition to make sev
eral crops without the labor of manuring
them separately. Tae first crop may,
owing to adverse weather, be a compara
tive failure, but the succeeding crops will
more than make up the deficiency, and
especially where the first crop has been
diminished through drought. Land that
is protected from washing will not waste
any part of this heavy application of ma
nure if a crop is kept growing on it and
alternating, as one should, with surface
rooted and then taprooted plants. Few
farmers but what have observed the last
ing effects of one season’s cowpening of
land. Its decided effect can be seen for
years. Nature is not wasteful of herself,
though the practices of man may lead her
to be. She provides every arrangement
for economizing her forces, and if we fol
low her closely we will not waste much.
She alternates the trees of her forests, the
grasses of her plains and meadows. She
stores away seeds of plants in manures
of animals, that a crop of something may
be assured to the land and its surface kept
covered with vegetation of some kind or
another. She does not abhor a vacuum
more than she does denuded soil. If we
do not cover that soil with valuable plants
of our own choice, she sets it with
spontaneous growths instantly. Imita
ting nature we should keep something
growing on our land all the time, follow
ing the tender plants of summer with the
hardy plants of winter, and then we will
waste nothing of the liberal quantities of
manure that we should apply to the soil
at least once a year for garden crops anil
every two years for ordinary farm crops.
The bulk o£ this manure must be of the
animal and vegetable kinds — hum us pro
viders—with the mineral manures supple
mentary tnereto.
J lilledoeville, Ga. S. A. C.
Making a Farm Self-supporting.
The great secret of ali successful farm
ing is to make the land produce sufficient
for the outlay of capital and labor, and
have a balance on hand each year. This
is business and farming for profit.
When a farmer finds that his land is not
paying interest on capital invested he
should take a candid view of the situa
tion and ask himself the cause, and by
thus doing he will arrive at the solution
of why farming does uot pay or is not
self-supporVfttg. The primal cause he
will find is poor land and badly cultivated
soil. There is no use, gentlemen, going
through the mechanical operation of plow
ing, harrowing and sowing seed on land
that has not got the proper elements of
plant food to raise a crop. It is very little
use of a man buying costly and numerous
machines, as he must at the present time,
to farm but poor land. The same ma
chinery is only required to raise 50 bush
els to the acre that would only bring 10
bushels on poor, undrained and badly
kept land. Poor farms improperly culti
vated and managed won’t pay*for the im
plements and labor, and hence cannot be
self-supporting. It is a great fallacy to
think any man can farm and that any
man can make money out of a farm. The
greatest diligence is required at (he pre
sent time to prosecute farming with any
degree of success,* unless more intelli
gence and business is thrown into it.
Like every other calling the profits are
increased according to the business tact
and intelligence of the operator. But
there is more steady money in farming
than any other business. ' The returns
may be slow, but they are sure and cer
tain, and not only should they he self
supporting, but by proper management a
good margin of profit can he had. — Ex
change.
The Cotton Planter—YVliy He Is Al
ways in Debt.
A few words n >w to my cotton planting
friends. The time was when our calling
was high—when we were boys the cotton
planter and banker were equal. At plant
ing time we were actually annoyed by the
confidence clerks of commission mer
chants, visiting us in the field with bags
of gold and Mobile hank bills, begging us
to use their money; only 2j£ per cent., no
mortgage, only ship us your cotton when
you please. Now what' a change. Our
calling has lost its prestige. A mortgage,
probably, on your home or landed interest,
your mules or other personal property,
with a note at 12 per cent, due the Ist day
of September or October, with an obliga
tion tfiat so many hales of cotton be de
livered in gdbd order on that day. The
price is set and away goes your hard
earnings. Why this change in things?
In a few words, I will tell you; at least
two-thirds of those engaged in raising
cotton are using borrowed capital to in
vest in the most hazardous game of chance
ever played. Just say, if I must borrow
money to raise I will plant corn.
In other words, if you have any money to
spare, raise some cotton. Then we can
say w hen to sell and at what price. One
more word: Is there one of us too poor or
too much tied up (as the saying is) to
control our cotton seed this year? The
oil nulls have set the price. Can’t you
pay the gin toll and haul your seed home,
feed plenty to your cattle next winter;
house the balance? They will make oil
five years from now; don’t submit to a set
price. I say, down with monopolies!—
Kaufman County ( Texas) Planter.
Use of Cotton Seed Meal.
Some farmers seem to think that seed
meal is better when used alone on corn or
cotton than when mixed with acid phos
phate and kainit. This is a mistake, as
both of these fertilizers add to the value
of the compound. Cotton seed meal con
tains nearly 9 per cent, of ammonia, only
2% of phosphoric acid and 2}s) of potash,
and therefore when acid phosphate,which
contains about per cent, of phosphoric
acid, and kainit, "which has over 13 per
cent, of potash, are added, a powerful
manuring will be formed. The most eco
nomical and effective jiroportions are
1,000 pounds of cotton seed cake, 500
pounds acid phosphate and 250 pounds
kainit, which compound will contain
about 6 per cent, of phosphoric acid, am
monia and potash, and will cost at the
rate of about s2l to $23 per ton. It must
be bornejin mind that the three chemical
elements mentioned are those that are
especially valuable* to crops and must be
essentially present in all nearly perfect
manures. And no guano that is sold at
double the price mentioned can approach
this compound in effective value for cot
ton. It is simply according to common
sense mixing together in proper propor
tions the ingredients that contain the elg*
ments that crops need; 250 pounds of this
mixture per acre will be more effective
than the same quantity of guano, costing
twice as much money, and will reduce
the tendency to rust, which guano often
increases.— Home and Farm.
Seeking Information.
Waycross, Ga., May 29. —Gan you an
swer, through columns of your “Farm
and Garden Department,” what is the
cause (and tffb remedy therefor)of tomato
plants, with fruit on them, suddenly
wilting and drying up with all the green
fruit on the vines?
Constant Reader.
Farm and Stock Notes.
A farmer of Enfield, Conn., reported to
the Connecticut Board of Agriculture that
from his one and a quarter acre peach or
chard, set seven years ago, he has already
realized $2,000. His peaches have retailed
in Boston at 20 cents each.
It is said that an infallible test lor dis
tinguishing butter from butterine is to
melt the substance and then suddenly
chill it with ice. The lard will go to the
bottom and the butter to the top, the line
of separation being distinctly visible.
Keep the horse collars clean. The dust
and dirt which adhere to collars when
they are w et with sweat works into lumps
and ridges, and sore shoulders are the re
sult. If the collars become hard w ash
them clean, pound them and apply oil.
The authorities of the lowa Agricultu
ral College make the following classifica
tions -of the relative values of various
foods as milk producers: Corn, per 100
pounds, 50 cents; oats, 60 cents; barley,
55 cents; wheat, 65 cents; wheat bran, 70
cents; oil meal,sl 45; clover hay, 80 cents;
timothy, 50 cents; potatoes, 10 cents.
The time is at baud when you should
carefully examine your henhouse and
fortity it against the army of insects so
injurious to your fowls. Acaretul use of
kerosene oil will keep oil' lice. Coal tar
is also frequently used to good advantage
for the same purpose. Apply it with a
brush into every crack and crevice where
there is any chance for vermin and it will
keep them off.
Red clover will produce the heaviest
crop ol hay on suitable land that can be
grow n. About four pounds of green grass
make one of hay. Orchard grass produces
a pound of hay to less than three pounds
of grass. Als’ike clover yields less than
the red variety, but the proportion of
grass to hay is the same. While it is ad
visable to secure as large yield as possi
ble it is best to grow a mixture in order
to secure quality.
Ten years ago neither India, Australia
nor the Argentine Republic had sent a
cargo of wheat to Europe. This year the
amount of exportable wheat from India
is estimated at 50,000,000 bushels, from
Australia 25,000,000, and from the Argen
tine Republic at 10,000,000 bushels, a total
of 85,000,000 bushels. In each of these
countries the opening up of the country
by railroads is stimulating wheat produc
tion in a surprising manner.
Insect powder, or “Persian pow r der,” if
fresh and good, will destroy cockroaches
and croton bugs inevitably. It should be
puffed into the crevices between the boards
and under the sink, where they are usu
ally found. If this is repeated every
morning for a week there will be no more
living bugsvisible for along time. Should
this plan fail you may be certain the in
sect powder is hot of the best quality or
that it has deteriorated.
The Germantown 'Telegraph says that a
farmer who grows a quantity of onions
every year has a patch of ground near his
house which he devotes to onion raising
which is entirely fertilized by refuse slops.
Instances of this kind serve an important
purpose in showing the value of the pro
ducts of the house that are generally
thrown awav as of no value and conse
quently useless. But let farmers try such
an experiment and they will be satisfied
of the value hidden therein.
An experiment made by Dr. Laws, of
England, showed that an acre of nch pas
ture in Leicestershire produced 500 pounds
of increase in the weightof fattening oxen
in six months grazing. It required 3,500
pounds of clover, 1,600 pounds of corn or
oil cake and 10,000 pounds of Swedes to
produce the same increase. This fodder
was considered equal in value to three
and one-half tons of English hay. Neither
soil nor climate in this country are favor
able for the maintenance of such pastures
here.
Weakness in young calves is due to the
poor condition of the cows, and often to
exposure to cold, w hich reduces the vi
tality of the cow; and, of course, the
calves suffer. The best thing to be done
is to give the cows some nourishing food
for some time before they calve, as oat
meal or linseed gruel, with a teaspoonful
of ginger and a pint of molasses, and to
give the calf a little weak gin and water,
well sweetened, by means of a spoon. An
ounce or so will be enough each time five
or six times a day.
The experiments conducted during the
last session at the Missouri State Agri
cultural College fully demonstrate, says
the Rural World , the advisability of
mulching potatoes. AFe believe every ex
periment, so far as reported, gave a simi
lar result. The cost of the materials for
mulching is usually very small, leaves or
straw being plentiful and cheap upon the
farm. The materials manure the ground
and mulching saves hoeing. The potato
requires a cooler climate and moister soil
than our latitude affords. Mulching tends
to secure both. The result in every case
has been largely increased yields of supe
rior quality.
If the cows get to pasture before they
drop their calves it will often stimulate
the milk glands to such an extent as to
fill the udder with milk several days be
lore calving. In such cases the milk
should be drawn out at once. Serious in
jury may result from the long continued
distension of the udder, which becomes
painful, or from the absorption of the milk
back into the system, poisoning the blood
by the fever it takes with it. The better
the animal as a milk producer the greater
the danger from this cause, which is one
reason why so many of our fancy animals
die from milk fever. These causes enfee
ble more constitutions than bad breeding
or high feeding with stimulating food.
For a rough and ready filter make a
partition across a small wine barrel, from
which the head has been removed, by
means of a circular piece of wire gauze
supported upon a light frame of wood and
fitted across the barrel with a few French
nails. Sift upon the gauze some clean
silver sand to the depth ot from two to
three inches, then place on the sand some
small charcoal from which the dust has
been sifted away previously. A two-inch
layer ot the sand above this and about an
equal thickness of clear sharp gravel on
top completes the filtering arrangement;
the barrel may then be filled up with
water and the purified fluid drawn from a
tap near the bottom as required.—Ameri
can Manufacturer
At a recent meeting of the Agricultural
Association in New York one of the mem
bers said he had received one of the little
bags of sample wheat sent out for the
benefit of the farmers of the country by
the Department of Agriculture at AFash
ington. From the one bag were produced
on his farm four kinds of wheat, three
kinds of barley and one kind each of oats
and rye. A bag of turnip seed was also
sent liim and not one of the seeds grew.
Whereupon Vick’s Illustrated Magazine
lor March remarks—with, we fear, too
much justice—that, departing from the
original intention of its establishment,
the Agricultural Department “has become
a sluiceway through which, with some
things that are good, flow the screenings
of the seed trade of the world.”
The Belgians grow alfalfa (lucerne)
largely. They first plow and clean the
land thoroughly, dress liberally with good
farm-yard manure, plow this in early in
the spring (say in March), and harrow
down. They sow the seed the second
week in April broadcast all over the land
(twenty-eight pounds of seed per acre),
naif this quantity sown one way and the
remainder the opposite way to insure reg
ularity of plant. They harrow in well
and roll down. One cutting may be made
in August, but only one the first year.
They top-dress the following wiuter with
farm-yard manure; roll heavily in the
spring, and from three to four"cuttings
can be taken yearly after this by manur,
ing every winter. When the land becomes
foul, which it will do after five or six years,
they plow up the lucerne, well clean the
land and re-sow, unless thev try another
field.
A question often occurs as to the amount
of manuring which is most profitable to
apply to land. A light dressing over a
wide surface is by some believed to be
best, while others insist on heavy manur
ing on a limited area. The question is
answered by the manner in which the
manure is applied. If merely spread on
the surface and plowed in a wide and thin
coat would be most profitable. A large
mass would not become intermixed with
the soil and in a dry season might be
worse than useless." Five thin coats,
plowed under in as many successive years,
would be much better than one coat five
times as thick, simply turned under at one
operation. A large amount may be ap
plied in a single season, provided’it is first
finely broken and pulverized and then in
timately intermixed with the soil by re
peated plowing and harrowing, or on a
small scale with the spade, hoe and steel
rake. —Country Gentleman.
HOUSEHOLD NOTES.
Beautiful tidies are made by painting
flowers in bright colors on black satin;
trim the edge of the tidies with white
lace.
Nothing is better than a good tile
hearth if the tiles are simple in design
and of good coloring, unless it is a marble
mosaic one.
As the boudoir of to-day is not the
lounging rendezvous of callers that it
was in the seventeenth century, the fur
nishings as well as the character have
materially changed.
Imitation encaustic tiles are made in
England from tin plate, flanged 60 as to
allow the tiles to be interlocked. It is
enameled and its flexibility adapts it to
use on convex or concave surfaces.
Knit portieres are made from strips of
silk dresses that have outlived their use
fulness, or such other pieces of silks as
might be at hand can be utilized. The
portieres have quite the effect of Oriental
stuffs.
Ladies who do not have much time for
fancy w r ork need not lack for tidies, when
such" elegant towels are to be purchased
at so little expense. For the back of a
sofa choose one with embroidered and
fringed ends. This towel should be long
enough so that you can tie it in a knot;
arrange this so that it will be smooth on
the top. The ends must be draped grace
fully.
Very deep lambrequins are now made
and put around tables. The top of the
round or oval table is covered with crim
son plush, and the valance or lambrequin
made of the macrame cord, or seine twine
is tacked to the table with gilt-headed
tacks; satin ribbons of the same shade as
the cover are run in. The favorite way
to finish the bottom is to make very deep
scallops and then tie in the cord for a deep
fringe.
A delicious pudding made of grated
apples is especially enjoyed if the apples
are tart and of good flavor. Grate the
apples after peeling them, weigh them
alter grating and put with them an equal
quantity of white sugar. To about ten
ounces of apples and sugar allow four
well-beaten eggs, the rind of one lemon
and the juice of two. Line a shallow’
pudding dish with rich paste, put in the
apples, etc., and bake for half an hour in
a hot oven. A sauce of cream adds a
touch of unequaled goodness but it is very
nice without.
Boiled Pigs’ Feet.—AFasli twelve pig’s
feet clean, place in a deep pan and pour
scalding water over them; take them out,
light a piece of paper and burn hair off
each one in the same manner as a fowl is
cleaned, then place them in warm water;
boil slowly one and a half hour, or until
tender; then put them in vinegar, let sim
mer very slowly for another half hour;
fill a small muslin bag with equal portions
of cloves and allspice, bag to be size of
an egg, tie up and drop it in the pigs’ feet
and vinegar; let all boil up for ten min
utes, salt to taste.
Transparent Marmalade. —Cut very
pale Seville or Florida oranges into quar
ters; take out pulp, put in basin and pick
out seeds and take off the peel. Put the
peels in a little salt water and let stand
over night; then boil them in a good quan
tity till tender. Cut into very thin slices
and put them into the pulp. To each
pound marmalade put one and a half
pound white powdered sugar, and boil lor
twenty minutes. If not clear and trans
parent in that time boil for a few’ minutes
longer. Keep stirring gently all the time,
taking care not to break the slices. AFhen
cold put into jelly or sweetmeat glasses,
tie down tightly’ with brandy paper, and
over that a wet bladder.
Banana Custard.— Make a w hite cus
tard as foliow’s: Two tablespoonfuls corn
starch, w’etted with enough cold water to
dissolve it; one cup granulated sugar,
one-third of a cup ot butter; stir together
in a pudding mold or earthen dish and
pour on enough boiling water to make
thick custard; beat the whites of three
eggs to snow, stir into the custard and set
in the oven to bake for fifteen minutes, or
for the same length of time in a pot of
boiling water; set aside until perfectly
cold, then remove the slight crust that
w’ill have formed on top; have ready the
dish in w’hicii you are to serve your cus
tard and some fresh, ripe banana’s, minced
finely; mix with the custard and pour
into the dish, and add a meringue made
of the beaten whites of three eggs and
halt a teacupful of pulverized sugar.
Cocoanut Soup.— This is an Indian
dish but is excellent. Scrape or grate
fine the inside of tw’o well-ripened cocoa
nuts; put the scrapings into a saucepan
w’ith two quarts of milk; add a blade of
mace: let it simmer very gently for about
half an hour, then strain it through a fine
sieve; have ready beaten the yelks of four
eggs with a little milk and sufficient
ground rice to thicken the soup; mix into
a very smooth batter, w hich add by de
grees to the soup; allow to simmer and
stir carefully until ready; season with
salt and white pepper. Do not allow it to
bojl or it will curdle and be spoiled. If
eggs are scarce cream (half a pint) can
be used instead. This soup is made in
India with white stock instead of milk,
but is equally good as a white soup if
made as above. Boiled rice, the grains
dry and quite distinct, should be served
with it.
BITS OF SCIENCE.
A carpenter makes a plea through the
Scientific American for pointed nails. He
says: “Can you do or say anything to the
nail-makers to induce them to put a point
on the nails, something like wire nails,
but perhaps not quite so peaked or sharp,
nor to a full point. This is, ol course,
more applicable to a finishing nail, but it
would be of very much benefit for the or
dinary nail; they can be stuck in their
place with one blow’, where two or more
would be required with the square end,
drive easier and keep their direction bet
ter.”
The dangerous practice of drugging food
is even more prevalent than is usually
supposed. Salicylic acid, for example, is
very largely used in articles such as jel
lies, etc., which have a tendency to be
come moldy. Its use was interdicted in
France in 1881, but, according to the
Medical Press, it is more largely used
than ever. It is shown to be especially
injurious to persons suffering from liver
aud kidney troubles, w’hile in perfectly
healthy people it “accumulates to a dan
gerous extent in the organs of those w’ho
use it constantly.”
Palmieri has shown that crude carbon
bi-sulphide can be purified by being agi
tated with small quantities of anhydrous
vitriol. After standing for some time the
liquid is distilled off. An almost abso
lutely pure product is obtainable by sev
eral repetitions of the process. The latter,
after hating been rendered unfit for use,
can be restored by calcination, treatment
with oil of vitriol and gentle ignition. In
spite of the daily extending use of carbon
bi-sulphide as a solvent for fats, grease,
etc., ihe above means of purification is
convenient and useful.
During an Arctic exploration Lieuten
ant Bay investigated the depth to w hich
the ground was frozen. lie says: “I dug
an earth shaft thirty-eight feet in depth
for the purpo'se of testing tiie temperature
and found, on calculation, that it was
froz-11 to a depth of 300 feet. A bucketful
of Lie stuff taken out of ihe shaft, when
thawed out, separated into earth and
water, about four inches of the fatter
standing on top. This proved that if the
ground there were ever warmed suffi
ce nMy to tie resolved into , its original
parts it would be found to be quite inca
pable of supporting anything on its sur
face. It is really frozen slush.
A varnish has been invented in Germa
ny for foundry patterns and machinery.
It dries, leaving a smooth surface, almost
as soon as it is applied. It is thus pre
pared: Thirty pounds of shellac, ten
pounds of Manilla copal and ten pounds
of Zanzibar copal are placed in a vessel,
which is heated externally by steam and
stirred during from four to six hours, after
which 150 parts of the finest potato spirit
are added, and the whole heated forfonr
hours to 67 degrees. This liquid is dyed
by the addition of orange color and can
then be applied as a paint on wood. When
used for painting and glazing machinery
it consists ot 35 pounds of shellac, 5
pounds of Manilla copal and 150 pounds
of spirit.
Piles! Piles!! Piles!!!
Sure cure for Blind, Bleeding and Itch
ing Piles. One box has cured the worst
cases of 20 years standing. No one need
suffer five minutes after using William’s
Indian Pile Ointment. It absorbs tumors,
allays itching, acts as poultice, gives in
stant relief. Prepared only for Piles, itch
ing of the private parts, nothing else. Hon.
J. M. Coffenbury, of Cleveland, says: “I
have used scores of Pile cures, and it
affords me pleasure to say that I have
never found anything which gives such
immediate and permanent relief as Dr.
William’s Indian Pile Ointment. Sold
by druggists and mailed on receipt ol
price, sl. Sold by O. Butler, Savannah.
Lippman Bros., wholesale agents.
Eotterieo.
L.S.L.
CAPITAL PRIZE, $150,000,
“ We do hereby certify that we suj>ervise the
Jirrangements for all the Monthly and Semi-
Annual Drawings of the Louisiana State Lottery
Company, ana in person manage asat control
the Drawings themselves, and that the same are
eomlueted with honesty, fairness, and in good
faith toward all parties, and we authorise the
Company to use this certificate, with fao-siuUlM
of our signatures attached, in its advertise
ments.”
COMMISSIONERS.
Unprecedented Attraction.
Over Half a Million Distributed.
Louisiana State Lottery Company,
Incorporated in 1868 for 25 years by the leg
islature for educational and charitable pur
poses—with a capital of sl,ooo,ooo—to which a
reserve fund of over $550.0)0 has since i >eea
added.
By an overwhelming popular vote its fran
chise was made a part of the present State
Constitution, adonted December 2, A, )>. 1870.
Its Grand Single Number Drawings wiH
take place monthly. It never scales or post
pones. Look at the following Distribution;
lGDtli Grand Monthly
AND THE
EXTRAORDINARY
SEMI - ANNUAL DRAWING
In the Academy of Mnsic, New Orleans,
TUESDAY, June IT, 1884, under the personal
supervision and management of
Gen.G.T. BEAUREGARD, of Louisiana, and
Gen. JUBAL A. EARLY, of Virginia,
CAPITAL. PRIZE 9150.000.
gEf~ NOTlCE.—Tickets are Ten Dollars
only. Halves, $5. Fifths, $2, Tenths, $l.
LIST OF FRIZES.
I Capital Prize of $150,000 $150,000
1 Grand Prize of 50,000 50,000
1 Grand Prize of 20.00 C 20,000
2 Large Prizes of 10,000 20,000
4 Large Prizes of 5,000 20,000
20 Prizes of 1,000 20,000
50 “ 500 25,000
100 “ 300 30,000
200 *• 200 40,000
600 “ 100 60,000
1,000 “ 50 50,000
APPROXIMATION PRIZES.
100 Approximation Prizes of s2oo—s 20,000
100 “ “ 100 ... 10,000
100 “ “ 75.... 7,500
2,279 Prizes, amounting to $522,500
Application for rates to clubs should he made
only to the office of the Company in New
Orleans.
For further information write clearly, giv
ing full address. Make P. O. Money Orders
payable and address Registered Letters to
NEW ORLEANS NATIONAL BANK.
New Orleans, La.
POSTAL NOTES and ordinary letters by
Mail or Express (all sums of $5 and upwards
by Express at our expense) to
M. A. DAUPHIN.
New Orleans, La.,
Or M. A. DAUPHIN,
607 Seventh street, Washington, D. C.„
Or JNO. B. FERNANDEZ,
Savannah. Ga.
EltlOlPf
IS DECIDED BY
ROYAL HAVANA LOTTERY,
(A GOVERNMENT INSTITUTION),
Drawn at Havana, Cuba,
EVERY 13 TO 14 DAYS.
Tickets, $2; Halves, $l.
See that the name Gould & Cos. is the on
ticket.
Subject to no manipulation, not controlled
by the parties in interest. It is the fairest
thing in the nature of chance in existence.
For information and particulars apply to
SIIIPSEY CO., Gen. Agents, 1212 Broad
way, N. Y. City, or J. B. FERNANDEZ, Sa
vannah, Ga.
lite Div mil.
CANO E R.
The development of the treatment of Cancer
with Swift’s Specific seem so wonderful that
all so afllicted should write ns.
CANCER for 14 YEARS.,
Spartanburg, S. C., March 14,188*.
I have for 14 years been a sufferer from a
ruuning sore on my face that everybody called
a Cancer. I have used over S3OO worth of
medicine and found no relief. About four
mouths ago I bought one bottle of Swift’s Spe
cific from Dr. H. E. Heinitsh, and si nee have
bought five others, have taken it, and they
have cured me sound and well! My face is
as free from a sore as anybody’s, and my
health is perfectly restored. *1 feel like forty
years had been lifted off my head. Yours
thankfully, ELIZA TINSLEY.
Mr. B. F. Burns, Hope, Ark, says, under
date of Jan. 22, 1884: “I have taken five bot
tles of Swift’s Specific for a sore on my temple
—said to be a cancer. I have been "wonder
fully benefited and will soon be a well mau.”
Mr. W. R. Robison, Davisboro, Ga., writes,
under date Jan. 3, 1884: “I am getting on
finely, the ulcer is gradually healing. I feel
that Swift’s Specific will cure the horrible
cancer which has been feeding on me for over
20 vears.”
Treatise on Blood and Skin Diseases mailed
free. THE SWIFT SPECIFIC CO.,
Drawer 3, Atlanta, Ga..
N. Y. Office, 159 W. 23d St., bet. 6th & 7th Avs,
SAYED~Hp“IIPR
Ridge, Mclntosh Cos., Ga.
Dr. .1. Bradfield: Dear Sir —l have taken:
several bottles of your Female Regulator for
falling of the womb and other diseases com
bined, of sixteen years standing, and I really
believe I am cured entirely, for which please
accept my heartfelt thanks and most profound
gratitude. I know your medi dne saved my
life, so you see I cannot speak too highly In its
favor. I have recommended it to several of
my friends who are suffering as I was. Yours
very respectfully,
Mrs. W. E. STEBBIN3-
TESTED A QUARTER OF A CEKTURY—
IT ST A EDS UXRIVA LED.
LaGrange, Ga.
Dr. J. Bradfield, Atlanta, Ga.: Dear Sir —
I take pleasure in stating that I have used,
for the last twenty years, the medicine you
are now putting up, known as Dr. Bradfleld’s .
Female Regulator, and consider it the best
combination ever gotten together for the dis
eases for which it is recommended. With
kindest regards I am, respectfully,
W; B. FERRELL, M. D.
Treatise on the Health and Happiness ol
Woman mailed free to any address.
The Bradfield Regulator Cos.,
Box 28. Atlanta, Ga.
ICE! ICE!
Knickerbocker Ice Go,,
144 BAY STREET,
Wholesale and Retail Dealers in
KENNEBEC ICE!
Orders by Mail, Telephone, or
given to our Drivers, promptly at
tended to.
TELEPHONE NUMBER, 217.
ESTABLISHED 1848.
*
Haywood,Gage & Cos.,
Wholesale Dealers and Shippers ot
LAKE ICE!
No. 188 (North Side) Bay Street,
Telephone No. 145, Savannah, Ga
rpIOKETS in strips of ten each furnished at
A office. Orders for same received by de
livery (yellow) wagons. Tickets sold loose
are fraudulent.
Special rates made for ice by car load.
Country orders promptly filled.
Choice EASTERN HAY constantly on hand.
ALFRED HAYWOOD.) ' .
LOUfS P. HART, j savannah..
ADDISON GAGE & CO., Boston.
7