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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.