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GRANDMOTHERS AD VICK
‘"Tall your •orroin to your pillow."
Tha world if bright enough, my pot;
Young hearts are light and free from care;
And long, long may yon journey yet
Ere life for you if hard to bear.
But, when it comes, as come it will,
The Blow decay or sudden blow,
Take up your burden and be still,
Nor let the world your sorrow know.
Nigh three-score years and ten hav6 laid
Their pages open to my view;
I’ve journeyed on through light and shade,
And this I’ve learned and proved it true—
That he who sends us grief to bear
Is near us in onr deepest woe;
We never are so much his care
As when hie hand hath laid us low.
And so, whenever griefs befall,
Still hold them sacred, all your own;
No heart but one can feel for all
The burdens on our shoulders thrown.
80, when the friendly darkness falls
And watchful eyes are veiled in sleep,
Bring forth each care with silent pray’r
And firs them all to God to keep.
MY HUSBAND’S CONFIDENCE
“I should like to know who ought to
have a man’s confidence if his wife ought
not,” whined I, in my ill humor, having
just made the discovery that my Albert
had made a very important change in
his business arrangements without hav
ing in the least consulted me. It was a
new way he had fallen into, for upon
our union, and even before, he had ap
peared to take great satisfaction in con
fidiLg to me all that he was doing, or
about to do; and in telling me all his
plans for the future. Indeed, he had
often said that it was his belief that men
ought to make their wives intimately
acquainted with all their affairs, in order
that they might consult and sympathize
in store and office matters, as well as in
matters pertaining to the house. This
was pleasant to me. It gratified my
curiosity and my vanity. I delighted in
boasting to my less honored married
companions of the confidence that my
husband reposed in me. And that was
not all I did. Many things that Albert
told me, under charge of the strictest
secrecy, I repeated; and that, too, in the
hearing of the very ones that he dreaded,
as spies and meddlers in regard to his
affairs. It was some time before my
husband’s eyes were opened; and he went
on speaking out his inmost soul and
thoughts to me as freely and confidingly
as to his God.
But the truth was revealed to him at
last. I could not at all understand the
stunned and disconsolate look that settled
down upon Albert’s beautiful and ex
pressive face when the conviction was
borne in upon him that the treasury
into which he had so trustingly poured
his most vahiable things was but a sieve.
I had no line by which to sound my
husband’s deep and sensitive soul. I
did not know that he had taken me for
one like unto himself, and that now he
had discovered that our natures were
radically different. Dreary and desolate
was the look that was in his eyes for
very many days; and I was altogether
out of patience with him. Though
gentle and affectionate as ever when he
did wake up, he seemed to be in a sort
of a dream; and it was not long before I
began to notice that Albert seldom spoke
to me any more about his business.
When I questioned him he returned eva
sive answers: if I insisted he put me off
by som9 joke, or by tuning my at
tention to some promised pleasure or
present.
By and by I discovered that an elderly
uncle of my husband’s was much with
him; and by questioning and cross
questioning I became satisfied that the
old fellow knew more of Albert’s affairs
than I did. This touched my resent
ment and my jealousy; but I said little
then.
Time went on. I was sure that my
husband was embarrassed in his affairs
—and 1 knew of his getting large sums
of money from Uncle Joe. Then Uncle
Joe came to our house evenings and he
and Albert went and shut themselves up
to have long talks in the library. I
tried to listen at the door, but could
;atch little of what they said. That lit
tle 1 speedily repeated to my cronies,
and we all agreed that my husband was
a very strange, unkind man; and that he
was treating me in a most injurious
manner.
“His own wife!” cried my sympa
thizers. “Thick of it!” and I did think
of it, and fretted myself almost into a
brain fever in consequence. This again
I laid all at my cruel husband’s door.
One evening, when there had been a
private session in the library, I sat cry
ing in the parlor when Albert came in.
He tried to draw out the cause of my
trouble, and to comfort me; but I sul
lenly refused to make known my grief,
or to receive his sympathy. In a very
UDliappy frame of mind we retired for
the night.
I had overheard considerable of that
evening's conversation, and was resolved
to “pitch into” Uncle Joe the first op
portunity. Chance favored me with au
early one. Albert had hardly left the
house the next morning when Uncle
Joseph entered. He had come to speak
with my husband on matters of import
ance, and was sorry he had left so early.
“You can teli all to me, Unde Joe;
and that will do just as well,” I said,
trying to speak playfully; but, in reality,
much provoked.
“Women are not fit to be trusted with
business,"was Uncle Joe’s crusty reply.
“I told Albert so in the first place when
he was full of his romantic foolerv of
congenial spirits, and mutual confi
dence, and all that sort of moonshine.
He wouldn’t believe me then; but he
had to oome to my views at last. You’ll
find that you are not to be business
partner any more. ”
Just here comes the question with
which I have commenced my sketch.
I was ready to cry—Uncle Joe was so
blunt and resolute, and had such a per
fect contempt for women, that he com
pletely put me down. I could not man
age to say one of the severe things to
him that I had intend.
“Tut, tut, Mrs. Phoebe, don’t lose your
temper now. That would be bad for
your good looks. I’ll tell you who has
a right to a man’s confidence: It is the
person who is worthy to receive it. Be
cause you are a man’s brother or sister,
or wife, or mother, is not a sufficient
reason why he should give himself or
his secrets into your power. Only those
who prove themselves equal to keep
ing it inviolate are worthy of
any one’s trust. Therefore, it is not
strange 'hat my nephew should keep his
confidence from one who wheedled
him out of it only notoriously to
betray it—thus rendering the foolish
coy a iaugHing-stook among those who
are not worthy to be named in the same
year with him, and wounding him nigh
to death in the most sensitive part of his
soul. It was a lesson he will not be
very likely to forget, I fancy. And now
that we are on the subject, I will tell
you that unless you are willing altogether
to lose your husband’s respect and love,
you will entirely change your behavior
toward him. Try if you can become a
sensible, faithful, worthy woman, and
helpmeet for your husband, whose worth
you now no more appreciate than a goose
would appreciate a diamond necklace.
Remember my words, Phoebe; if you do
not change you will lose the love of
your husband; and it will be an unut
terable and irrevocable loss. Good
morning, my dear.”
Uncle Joe was gone. I sat aghast;
stupidly staring at the door through
which he disappeared. Never had I
heard him make so long a speech; never
had I seen him so in earnest. The bit
ter meaning of his words grew constantly
me. till I srroaned in verv anguish
of spirit. The heavy and harsh blows
that his unmerciful tongue had dealt
me; and already I felt the bubbling up
of thoughts and feelings from depths of
which before I knew not. Either a life
hitherto sealed was opened, or anew
life was born in me, for, from that hour,
I was an altered woman. I hardly
knew myself; and I am sure my husband
hardly knew me. Instead of hating
Uncle Joe, I began to feel a real affec
tion for him.
For a whole year my improvement
held out, and then the trouble was all
gone out of Albert’s eyes and the ab
sence from his manner. And gradually,
month by month, my husband began to
tell me things in the old pleasant way.
When he found what a revolution had
taken place in my habits, in regard to
repeating what he said, how gladly he
took me once more into his perfect con
fidence, and accepted me for his faithful
and best friend.
T ee Wes ’ das drawn the young
out of the Green Mountain State. The
Rutland Herald says: “There are many
deserted farms and decayed towns in
southern Vermont; at least, that is the
testimony of an intelligent farm-bred
lawyer who recently personally visited
tlie towns that touch both sides of tin
Green Mountains from the Massachu
setts line to Addison county. The wood
land has so encroached upon these de
serted farms that our friend is confidenl
that there is more woodland to-day ii
the mountain towns of Vermont tliai
there ha3 been at any previous time ii
the past foriv years. In the old coun
ties of Bennington, Windham, Windsoi
and Rutland there are many deserted
farms and decayod towns along botl
sides of the mountain range, and tlies<
deserted farms are not being reoccupiec
by any returning wanderer, although
most of the towns are places of muc>
natural beantv and attractiveness.”
A Fall. —The noble army of dudes
on dress parade in front of Trinity
Church, Mobile, on Sunday morning,
was ignominiously put to flight by a
sudden and awful noise which seemed to
portend nothing less appalling than an
earthquake. The sexton subsequently
discovered that the great bell had
slipped from its supports in the tower
and orashed through three floors into
the basement, where it lay, mouth up
and uninjured, except that it had no
tongue left to tell of its misfortunes.
It begins to look as though the bent
arm of Massachusetts which stretches
out into the atlantic would at last really
be severed, on the surface, from tho
main body of the State. Dredges and
pile drivers are already ou the line of
the canal, and it is promised that 500
laborers shall at onoe follow. It must
be remembered, however, that this en
terprise, two or three years ago, had ad
vanced still further than now, and then
failed. But the last Legislature granted
a charter to a company which is believed
to have both the means and the energy
for pushing through, at last, this famous
project, for which plans were drawn
more than a century ago, and which has
been under consideration about two cen
turies.
Baked Chicken and Tomatoes. —Use
the chicken boiled for the chicken and
tomato soup; after taking the chicken
from the soup wipe it with a clean
towel, rub it all over with butter, season
it with salt and pepper, and place it in
a dripping-pan; wash ?ud dry a dozen
tomatoes of medium size, cut a slice
from the top of each, and scoup out the
inside; mix it with au equal quantity of
bread-crumbs, a tablespoonful of butter,
and a high seasoning of salt and pep
per; replace it in the tomatoes, arrange
them around the chicken, and brown
both in a hot oven; when the chicken
and tomatoes are brown serve them hot,
after removing the skewe -s or strings
used in trussing the chicken.
The most profitable industry of the
new Swedish colony in Aroostook
county, Maine, is that of raising pota
toes for the starch factories, of which
there are twenty-six. The largest of
these made last year 392 tons of starch
from 98,000 bushels of potatoes. The
process of starch making is simple, con
sisting merely of grinding the potatoes,
washing the pulp, and settling the starch
in three vats successively after it has
been thoroughly washed with clean
water to remove all impurities, f’qrniiee
(teat is employed for drying.
SEXTON, THE BILLIARD PLAYER.
Wlanln Two Camei from a. Drummer
Whose Boots He Had Blocked.
“I’m right glad Slosson has given up
that medal to Sexton. Billy ought to
have it,” said a Vermonter at the Sher
man House, Chicago, according to The
Daily News of that city.”
“Why this outburst of enthusiasm?”
queried a friend.
“I feel as if I sort of owned Billy.”
You see, he was born and brought up in
Vermont, I knew him twenty yearn ago,
when be was a bootblack in Burlington.
He has shined my cowhides a good
many times. It was no fool of a job.
either. But Billy could always play bil
liards like the old Nick. I remember
one time I was in a billiard-room in
Burlington, when a perfect dandy of a
drummer came in. He was dressed to
kill.
“ ‘Shine, sir?’ asked Billy.
“The fellow said perhaps he would
have his shoes brushed up a little. Af
ter the shine was obtained he spoke in a
lefty kind of manner and asked if there
was anybody there who would like to
play him a game of billiards for money.
Of Course, he being a stranger, nobody
dared pick up the challenge. The chap
stood there smiling half a minute, and
then started out.
“ ‘l’ll play yer,’ shouted Billy.
“‘You! Why, you little sinner,
you’ve blacked my boots. I don’t be
lieve you’ve got a quarter to your
name.’
“ ‘Never mind,’ put in the hotel clerk.
‘l'll back him.’
“The drummer said he didn’t want to
take his money on a sure thing, but he
would play a game for $lO. The money
was put in my hands, and they went at
it. It was 100 points, three-ball game.
They played along just about even till
they got up to eighty points, and Billy
ran out the game. The drummer was
somewhat chagrined, but thought it was
a mere accident, and said he would like
to play another, thinking he could get
his money back.
“‘All right,’ said the clerk, ‘and
we’ll make the stakes SSO, if you say
so.’
“The drummer was willing, and the
money was put up. Well, sir, it was a
great sight to see that little ragged
boot-black play against the elegant gen
tleman. Billy hadn’t played his best
the other game, for the bartender had
winked at him not to. But this time
his backer told him to go in for all he
was worth. Well, the way he paralyzed
that drummer was a caution. Why he
scored 100 in just four runs, while his
opponent had twenty. I tell you it was
funny to see the drummer watch him
play. I afterward heard that Billy got
his start as a professional through that
identical drummer.”
Reformation First
I was invited to a wedding the other
evening, but could not go. The invita
tion was extended by the groom in per
son. He came in, and, having acted
shyly for a moment, asked me to step
out in the hallway. There were no
other persons in the room, but I con
sented. The gas was burning and he
turned it down. If I hadn’t known him
as well as I did, I should have feit some
misgivings. Thus shadowed he stated
his case at once. He said he was going
to be married. He had known her a
long time, and they had both outlived
their foolishness. He had no doubt
about her. But he had been practicing
to be good himself.
“One year ago,” he said, “I just con
cluded not to drink nor run around
town at night. I never took any oath
or anything of that sort. It got to be
kind of natural to me after that, and 1
didn’t want to knock around. Then I
concluded I would go to church. I had
not been in one for fifteen years. I
happened around one Sunday, and sal
down just as quietly and naturally as a
deacon. When they got to singing I
found out that I had joined the chorus.
I’ve kept it up, and without restraint.
We’re to be married to-morrow, and the
little home is already fixed up and fur
nished.”
Ho went away, and I stood watching
him. There was no need of the side
walk for him. His heart was so lighl
that it might have buoyed his body
above the earth. There was a genuine
reformation I would not be afraid tr
tie to.
an old letter.
“My dear,” said Mrs. Popperman to
her husband last evening, “I was look
ing over a bundle of old letters to-day,
and found this one which you wrote to
me before we were married, when you
were young and sentimental.
“What does it say?”
“I ll read it,”
“Sweet idol of my lonely heart. If
thou wilt plaoe thy hand in mine, and
say, dear love, I’ll be thy bride, we’ll fly
away to some far realm—we’ll fly to
sunny Italy, and ’neath soft, cerulean
skies we’ll bask and sing and dream of
naught but love. Rich and costly paint
ings by old masters shall adorn the
walls of the castle I’ll give thee. Thy
bath shall be of milk. A box at the
opera shall be at thy command, and
royalty shall be thy daily visitor.
Sweet strains of music shall lull thee
from thy morning slumber. Dost thou
accept ? Say yes, and fly, oh 1 fly, with
me.”
“And I flew,” said Mrs. Popperman.
“But if I had been as fly as I am now,
I wouldn’t have flown.” Boston
Herald,
“Oh, yes,” said the eldest Miss Cul
ture at table d’hote the other evening.
“I breakfasted yesterday with Mrs.
Brainweight and we enjoyed a delicious
repast—excellent coffee, superior bread
and piscatorial globes done admirably.”
1 ‘What ?” asked her friend. * ‘Piscatorial
globes,” repeated the Boston virgin.
“And what under the sun are they?”
“I believe,” said Miss Culture, drawing
herself up stiffly. “I believe
people sail them fish balls,”
THE CRAZY QUILT CRAZE.
What m. Lot of Men Hrt to Hay on the
Sabteet.
[From the Milwaukee Sun.l
A number of gentlemen sat in th 6
Plankinton House reading-room the
other evening when a gentleman came
in apparently very much agitate'
“What’s the matter?” asked an ac
quaintance. “Matter? Well, I should
say there was matter enough. I don’t
expect to leave Milwaukee with a whole
suit of clothes. In fact everything I’ve
got on begins to look like the remnants
of an antiquated porous plaster. Never
had any experience with a lot of ladies
wi o have got an attack of crazy bed
qUiic? Of course not. I might have
known better than to have asked, as it
never strikes any but good looking
old bachelors like myself. When a man
has been there once he is satisfied, un
less he is a hog. The reason they call
these new fangled quilts crazy, is be
cause everybody for twelve miles around
a house where one of ’em is started is
set crazy by the lady demanding a piece
of silk.
“To-night I thought I’d go out to see
some ladies, old friends I hadn’t more
than got into the door, before one of
them, with a pair of scissors in her hand,
snatched my hat and made a dive for
the lining. She got left. She handed
the hat back with a disappointed look,
as she realized that somebody had got
in their work ahead of her. Why do
I keep my coat buttoned up to my
chin ? Well, when she found the lining
of the hat gone she made a dive for my
neck scarf. There’s nothing left but
the collar-button and a piece of the
scarf about the size of a ten cent piece.”
The man-who-had been-there then
took out his silk handkerchief to blow
his nose, but his hand missed the murk
as it went through a hole big enough for
a cat to jump through. “Well, I’ll b
blamed, if those women haven’t carved
my blower. They even raided the sleeve
lining to my overcoat. In fact I haven’t
a whole garment on me. lam crazy so
they’ll have a crazy quilt sure. "Why,
they get the lining out of every hat they
can lay hands onto. It isn’t safe to leave
your hat in the hall, if you expect to get
it again in as sound condition as when
you hung it on the rack. A man who
has had any experience feels like taking
to the woods every time he sees a lady
coming, especially if she looks smiling.
“It’s not so rough on a man to take his
hat lining, but if ever high-buttoned
vests go out of style, nine-tenths of the
young men will have their reputation
for sobriety and peacefulness ruined all
on account of the dilapidated condition
of their neckties, so many samples be
ing cut out of them by the ladies for
these crazy quilts. Why, they even cut
the lining out of a claw-hammer coat!
It’s a mighty good thing that brides
maids go into church first or the groom’s
coat-tails would look like a ragged sig
nal of distress. There wouldn’t be
enough of the lining left by the time he
reached the altar to make the tails of his
coat hang in any sort of shape.” And
the much-sampled man asked for the
fcpy of his room and went to bed to
dream low “perfectly lovely” his con
tributions of silk looked in a crazy
quilt.
The Astors of To-Day.
William B. Aator lived a quiet, un
eventful life. He was married, says a
New York paper, to a daughter of Gen
eral Armstrong, President Madison’s
Secretary of War. They had six chil
dren, three sons and three daughters.
He died in 1875, and two years later a
marble memorial altar costing $200,000
was erected in liis honor in Trinity
Church. It is estimated that his estate
was worth at least $40,000,000. He left
$200,000 to the Astor Library, and large
sums to various public charities. To
every member of bis family he left a
handsome legacy. The bulk of his for
tune he bequeathed to his sons William
and John Jacob, and between them he
divided equally the fortune left him by
his father. His third son, Henry, had
retired to a handsome country seat on
the Hudson, caring little for the posses
sion of great wealth. William and John
Jacob are thus left the present represen
tatives of the great family and fortune
founded by their grandfather. They are
to-day worth probably more thau $70,-
000,000 each, and their wealth is steadily
increasing. They are interested in no
business and own not a share of stock in
any corporation. All their wealth is in
real estate, in New York city mostly.
They own block upon block in the
richest business part of the city, and
block upon block of the finest brown
stone palaces on Murray Hill. Their
sole business is to collect their rents and
buy more property. They never sell.
They are good landlords; that is, they
keep all their property in the best of re
pair, and are attentive to all the wants of
their tenants. But on the other h.Jid
they are very strict in the collection of
rents. Like their father and grand
father, they are plain and unassuming.
They live in twin briok houses on Fifth
avenue, which are plain and unpretend
ing in appearance, but spacious and
richly furnished. There is no show or
parade about them. The two brothers
are liberal benefactors of the church, of
various charities, of all public enter
prises of merit, and are liberal patrons
of musical art. The present John Jacob
Astor, has only one child, William Wal
dorf! Astor. He has figured more
prominently before the public than any
other member of the family. He was
graduated with honors at Columbia Col
lege. He served two terms in the State
Legislature, where he was conspicuous
as a conscientious reformer and a pains'
taking mtellrrent lawmaker.
A Vermont paper is responsible for
the story that an old lady reoently con
fessed that she didn’t keep a dairy, al
though her folks had two cows and
churned up what the pigs wouldn’l
drink. If the product of that churning
is any worse than the poorest kind of
oleomargarine, heaven help the people
who ate it. —Tht Dairy,
BAKED WEALTH.
% Farmer Pats Bit Fortune In au Ovea aa4
Finds It la a Pile of Ashes.
“Mr Jacob Leib, a farmer, of West
Millcreek, has been rained by too umch
precaution,” says an Erie (Penn.) dis
patch. For the last month the villages
irouud Erie have been worked pretty
thoroughly by a gang of professional
burglars, the two leaders of whom have
been captured. Farmer Lieb is one of
those who believed a bird in the hand to
be worth two in the bush. He has never
deposited his savings in the bank, but
kept his money and valuables in a safe
it home, where the treasure would al
ways tie under his eye.
The operations of the burglars in his
neighborhood convinced him that safes
lo not always save, therefore he con
cluded to be too ounning for the cracks
men. Kemoving his greenbacks, amount
ing to $5,000, with notes, mortgages and
other valuable doonments representing
*s much more, he concealed them in the
oven of a parlor stove that is not gener
ally used until the winter has fairly set
in. As an extra precaution he con
cluded not to tell Mrs. Leib, least in a
moment of weakness she should give his
outeness away in gossip. The project
worked like a charm.
At Union City safes were being
cracked and dwelling-houses being en
tered all around, but his treasure re
mained all safe in the oven. One morn
ing it was discovered that an unsuccess
full attempt had been made to burglarize
his residence, but the discovery only
served to tickle him. Mrs. Leib was
seriously alarmed for the safety of their
possessions, but her husband bade her
be of good cheer, and trust to his sa
gacity.
That night he came to Erie on busi
aess, and during his absence the first
snow-storm of the season occurred.
Thinking of the husband’s cold ride,
Mrs. Leib planned a little surprise for
lirn, and so prepared a dainty and
erupting supper, spreading it in their
cosy parlor, lighting the fire to add to
Mr. Leib’s comfort. When he arrived
and took in the situation he almost
fainted. Bushing to the stove he opened
the oven door and pulled out a charred
mass that once represented their fortune,
but which was now not worth a cent.
On Saturday he brought the ashes to
the court-house, but obtained no com
fort.
An American Institution.
These are the days of that glorious
American Institution, pumpkin pie.
The hotel or restaurant pumpkin pie is
not the simon pure article. It haS had
too many foreign airs added to it. It may
be good and it may pass for what it is
intended, but it can’t hold a candle to
to the pumpkin pie our mothers and
grandmothers made. Just look at the
difference in the two brands. Mother’s
had a nice short crust with an edge about
an inch deep and this was a plump meas
ure of pumpkin “pulp” mixed with nice
fresh eggs, milk and just enough spice
to give it flavor. It was a picture of a
blooming, healthy pie. It makes *•
man’s mouth water to think of it. The
store kind of pumpkin pie has a sort of
sickly second cousin countenance anu is
scarcely over an eighth of an inch thick,
with a crust on the bottom that almost
breaks a tinner’s shears to cut it. As for
taste, that has to be imagined, as it is a
sort of go-as-you-please flavor between
tan bark and cinnamon. Then again,
one hundred store pies will be made out
of an ordinary tweniy-cent pumpkiD.
Each pie is cut into eight pieces about
the size of two fingers, which sells for
five cents each. This brings forty cents
for a pie, or forty dollars for the product
of the pumpkin. That leaves the store
keeper thirty-nine dollars and eighty cents
profit on his pumpkin and as the crust
is thin with no shortening in it, eighty
cents ought to cover this cost, leaving
mi even thirty-nine dollars profit on the
transaction ! A slice of mother’s pump
kin pie the size of your two hands, that’s
the regulation cut in home made pie,
and an inch and a half thick contains
more real pie than a dozen store pies,
and there is no danger of trouble from
indigestion after eating it. There should
be some action taken by the legislatures
to prevent the degeneration of this great
American institution—pumpkin pie. E
this is not done, future generations will
read in history of a dish now so highly
prized by patriotic citizens and grieve
to think that the building of the pump
kin pie of their forfathers is a lost art.—
Peck's Sun.
Opium is surreptitiously supplied by
Sau Francisco Chinamen to their coun
trymen in the Sandwich Islands, where
it is forbidden. The drug brings SBO to
S9O a pound, and the smuggling of a few
hundred pounds makes a Chinaman
rich. In numberless ways they contrive
to introduce it. A large safe was con
signed to a merchant. An officer de
manded that it be opened. The China
man declared that he had forgotten the
combination. That night the safe,
weighing four tons, was taken out of the
bonded warehouse, carted away several
miles, emptied, and left in a sugar cane
field, where the officers found it the next
day, with evidence that it had been
crammed with opium. A man had a con
tract for washing the linen of the Pacific
Mail steamers. Hundreds of bundles,
each containing a can of opium, were
pitched from the steamer’s deck to the
wharf, and carted to the laundry. He
happened to be sick on one occasion,
and his assistant, who was ignorant of
the contraband trade, handled the linen
in such a way that the opium can fell
out. A great number of sewing ma
chines were sent to Honolulu, and by
accident it v*as discovered that the legs
were hollow and packed with opium.
Opium has been delivered in the islands
in fruit cans, the can being divided into
three compartments, the two outside
ones filled with fruit and the larger ones
with opium. Large quantities have
also been shipped to the islands in stove
wood, each piece of the wood being
bored. Masses <}f coal have done ser
vice in the same way,
Insects in ttae Garden.
Dr. Bturtevant in a recent bulletin
issued from the experiment station at
Geneva, N. TA NARUS., says :
‘Cabbage worms have been abundant
and destructive. We have warred against
them with tobacco-water, saltpetre, al
cohol, boracic acid, bisulphide of car
bon, tc., but finally settled upon an
mnlsion of kerosene oil and soapsuds
as the remedy that, all things consid
eered, was the most satisfactory. It ap
pears that one ounce of common yellow
ard soap, one pint of kerosene oil and
one aud one-half gallons of water well
mixed and stirred and applied bv means
of a rose from a watering-pot, destroys
all worms that become thoroughly wet
with the mixture, and does not injure
tlie plant. Care must, however, be
taken to keep the ingredients thoroughly
mixed in the pot, for if the oil is per
mitted to rise to the surface, so that it
will pass out upon a few plants, it will
prove fatal to the few, while the remain
der will not receive enough of the oil to
destroy the worms. In this case the
kerosene is the insecticide, the object of
the soap being but to thicken the liquid
40 as to retard, in a measure, the sepa
ration of the oil from the water. A
larger proportion of soap makes the wa
er so thick that it will not flow readily
through the fine openings of the rose.
A larger proportion of oil endangers the
plant, while a smaller proportion is in
efficient against the worms. There is
one caution, however, to be given : If
repeated applications of the mixture
are made upon the same plants the more
tender varieties will be destroyed or will
be injured. We found, on trial, that
where one or two applications were
made without injury to the plant, a large
number of applications blighted the
leaves, more or less, and five applica
tions entirely destroyed the early va
rieties, while large growing and late va
rieties seemed uninjured, even under se
vere dosing. The growing cabbages
furnishes so many hiding places for
worms, that we cannot hope to destroy
them all with a single application, how
ever thoroughly it may be made. The
perfect remedy should destroy the
worms wherever it touches them, and
should not injure the plant in the least
under any number of applications.
The coach o which Banker Jamison
of Philadelphia is traveling in Pennsyl
vania with his family is described by an
exchange: “The outside has seats foi
three in front and two back; tw o large
iamps are on each side of the frost seat,
and one large head light is on the dash
board. Here also are a clock, an ax,
a knife, a pistol, aud other things. On
the left side of the coach, near the box,
is a private locker containing viands. On
top is a large willow' trunk, immediately
hack of which the tent, camp chairs,
and blankets are stored. Under the
back steps is a place for another large
willow trunk, hanging behind which is
a stepladder to be used by ladies when
taking seats oil the outside of the
coach. Inside the boot all kinds of
cooking utensils are packed. On the
sides of the coach are willow' cases for
canes, umbrellas, fishing rods, and guns.
Inside are two roomy seats facing each
other, accommodating six persons. In
the cushions of the doors are map pock
ets, and ou the cushioned walls hang a
thermometer, a barometer, a compass, a
clock, night lamp, a match box, and
near the top are racks filled with note
paper and envelopes. The vehicle
weighs only 1,370 pounds; and the reins
are handled by the owner, who generally
makes from twenty-five to forty miles
daily. The party go into camp at 12
o’clock. The horses are then picketed
and the camp firs is kindled. ”
A physician who writes for the Con
tinent about the curative powers of na
ture is positive in his conviction that it
is better for a consumptive to stay at
home, where he can be comfortable,
than subject himself to the discomfort
of hotel life, or to the greater inconven
ience of a camp. He says that the
camp cure may be fairly tried by sleep
ing on one’s own housetop. Another
medical man replies that the summer
conditions of spruce forests are emi
nently favorable, and consumptives have
recovered in the most surprising way
living under canvas in them, where the
air is impregnated with the healing
emanations peculiar to the nondecid
uous tree growths. There are consump
tives whose lungs crave the salt of the
ocean; others to whom the dry atmos
phere of Colorado is infinitely sooth
ing; and others again who are benefited
by the climate of Florida or southern
California. “To prescribe Florida for
one person might mean death, while if
he went among the northern paradise of
■spruce recovery might follow.”
A very beautiful and touching story
was telegraphed the other day from
some far Western town, which told how
a white dove flew in at a church window
and lit upon the shoulder of a fair young
bride who was just being given away at
the altar. The poetic thrill which was
caused by the incident has been turned
Into grief by the discovery that the fair
young bride spent over six months train
ing the dove for this matrimonial act
with the one blessed purpose of getting
her name in all the papers.
Dr J. P. Barnum, of Louisville, who
has just returned from the wonderful
salt and gas well in Brandenburg, Ky.,
tells a Commercial reporter that the
flow is as great as it was at the time of
the discovery in 1865, The well, which
is 550 feet deep, has been tubed so as
to separate the gas from the water. The
Doctor’s tests showed an hourly escape
of 47.120 cubic feet of gas, with a veloc
ity warranting a company in layiug a
pipe to Louisville, forty miles distant,
to supply the city with light and power.
Mbs. Jane Collins, of Pottstown,
Pa., excites the envy of her neighbors
by boasting of the faot that a pitcher
has not been broken in her family dur
ing the twenty-nine years of her married
m.
A WESTERN STORY.
A ONK.EYGD MAN TO THE RESCUE, AND
HOW DISCOUNTED HE FBI.T.
How it Party ol Travclr** Boasted of How
They Would Repel the Attack ot Road
Age til* and How They Did It.
By and by the army offieer mentioned
something about road agents, and di
rectly the conversation became interest
ing. Coaches had been stopped at vari
ous points on the line within a week,
and it was pretty generally believed
that a bad gang had descended on the
route and were still ripe for business.
The mau with one eye had nothing to
say. Once or twice he raised his head
and that single eye blazed in the dark
ness like a lone star, but not a word es
caped his mouth. The captain had
said what he would do in case the coach
was halted, and this brought out the
others. It was firmly decided to fight.
The passengers had money to fight for
and weapons to fight with.
The man with one eye said nothing,-
At such a time and under such circum
stances there could be but one interpre
tation of such oonduct.
“A coward has no business traveling
this route.” said the captain in a voice
which every man could hear.
The stranger started up, and that eye
of his seemed to shower sparks of fire,
but after a moment, he fell back again
without having replied.
If he wasn’t chicken hearted, why
didn’t he show his colors ? If he intend
ed to fight where were his weapons? He
had no Winchester, and so far as any
one had seen as he entered the coach,
he was without revolvers. Everybody
felt contempt for a man who calculated
to hold up his hands at the order, and
permit himself to be quickly despoiled.
“Pop! pop! halt!”
The passengers were dozing as the
salute of the road agents reached their
ears. The coach was halted in a way to
tumble everybody together, and legs
and bodies were still tangled up when a
voice at the door of the coach called
out:
“No nonsense now ! You gentlemen
climb right down here and up with your
hands The first man who kicks on
me will get a bullet through his head !”
We had agreed to fight. The captaiu
had agreed to lead us. We were listen
ing for his yell of defiance and the click
of his revolver when he stepped down
and out as humbly as you please. The
sutler had been aching to chew up a
dozen road agents, and now he was the
second man out. The surveyor had in
timated that lie never passed over the
route without killing at least three high
waymen, but this ocasion was to be an
exception. In three minutes the five
of us were down and in line and hands
up, and the road agent had said:
“Straight matter of business ! First
one who drops his hands won’t ever
know what hurt him !”
Where was the man with one eye?
The robber appeared to believe that we
were all out, and he was just approach
ing the head of the line to begin his
work when a dark form dropped out of
the coach, there was a yell as if from a
wounded tiger, and a revolver began to
crack. The robber went down at the
first pop. His partner was just coming
around the rear of the coach. He was
a game man. He knew what had hap
pened, but he was coming to the rescue.
Pop ! pop ! pop ! went the revolvers,
their flashes lighting up the night until
we could see the driver in his seat.
It didn’t take twenty seconds. One
of the robbers lay dead in front of us
—the other under the coach, while the
man with one eye had a lock cut from
his head and the graze of a bullet across
his cheek. Not one of us had moved a
finger. We were five fools in a row.
There was a painful lull after the last
shot, and it lasted a full minute before
the stranger turned to us and remarked
in a quiet, cutting manner:
“Gentlemen, ye can drop yer hands!’
We dropped. We undertook to thank
him, and wew r anted to shake hands, and
somebody suggested a shake-purse for
his benefit, but he motioned us into the
coach, banged the door after us, and
climbed up to a seat beside the driver.
His contempt for such a crowd could not
be measured.— Detroit Ft'ee Press.
The War Chances.
Although the general belief is that the
chances of a war between China and
France are steadily increasing, there are
men who maintain that there will be no
fight. History shows that the war party
at Pekin will bounce and swagger antil
the eleventh hour, and then give in.
When it is discovered that their enemy
has really made up his mind to fight,
the Celestial statesmen deem discretion
the better part of valor. Times without
number, since the last English war with
China, hostilities with England, Ger
many and France have been imminent,
but have never gone further. At the
same time, the French are unlikely to
press their claims too strongly. They
have already discovered that they have
embarked on an undertaking out of
which, even with complete success fall
ing to their lot, no tangible advantage is
likely to arise.
The French make very bad colonists,
and the Tonqtiin district will not entice
many colonists to settle down in it.
Once it is opened up to trade, England
and Germany will reap the commercial
advantages. The French have little
aptitude for trading, while the Chinese
are born merchants. The French,
therefore, are fighting on what may be
called sentimental grounds for, given
that they make themselves masters and
possessors of all the Tonquin swamps,
what will be the cost of supporting the
necessary army of occupation ? Further,
when they have seized the country, what
will they do with it ? France wiil prob
ably soon grow modest in her demands,
the Chinese will grow modest in their
refusals, and both will settle down and
rejoice at the victory of the pen over the
sword. —New York Hour.
Life is like a tree. When you climb
to the top you must keep a fast hold on
every limb, but when yen want to drop
you have nothing to do but to let go ancj
nature will see to the rest.