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Farm-Yard Mnnnre.
1 Farm-yard manure is & general ma
nure; it is also termed a complete ma
. nure because it supplies all the essential
elements of plant food. Its composition
varies according to the character of the
animals contributing to it, the quality of
their food and the nature and the pro
portion of the litter. Its value also de-
Eends upon the method in which it has
cen prepared.
Farm-yard manure consists of tho
liquid and solid excrements of the farm
Block and the straw, sawdust or other
material employed as litter. It will
contain from 65 to HO per font, of water.
The nitrogen may be 0.40 to 0.65 per
cent., or higher, if produced by highly
fed animals. The ash constituents will
be 2.5 to 3.0 per cent., exolusive of tho
Band and earth present. Of these ash
constituents 0.4 to 0.7 will bo potash
and 02 to 0.4 phosphoric acid. In a
word, one ton of farm-yard manure will
supply, according to conditions already
specified, from nine to fifteen pounds of
nitrogen, a similar amount of potash and
from four to nine pounds of phosphoric
acid.
A consideration of some of the causes
that affect tho quality of barn-yard
manure may assist the inexDorienced
farmer. An animal neither gaining nor
losing weight, as a working-horse, will
produce excrements containing about
the same amount of nitrogen and ash
constituents as was present in tho food
consumed. If, on the other hand, the
animal ie increasing in size, is producing
young or furnishing milk or wool, the
nitrogen and ash constituents in the
excrements will be less than those con
tained in tho food, the difference ap
pearing as animal increase. In a word,
the farmer will not obtain as rich a ma
nure from a cow in full milk, or from a
rapidly growing pig, as from his work
ing horse with the same food.
Even more than tho character of the
animal does tho character of the food
affect the quality of manure. A diet,
for instance, including a liberal amount
of oil-cake or beans, will yield a manure
rich in nitrogen and ash constituents,
when a diet of maize and straw chaff
will produce a manure poor In nitrogen
and phosphate*. The constituents of
food which are important as ingredients
of manure are the nitrogen and ash ele
ments, but chiefly the nitrogen, this be
ing the most costly Ingredient of com
mercial fertilizers. Oil-oakes yield the
richest manure. Next to these come the
leguminous seeds, molt dust, nhd bran,
fiiover hay yields a richer manure than
the cereal grains, while meadow hay is
rated below these. The oercal grains
and the mots contain about tho same
proportion of nitrogen in their dry sub
stance, but tho roots supply more
potash. Potatoes stand below roots In
manurial value, and straw takes the
lowest place as a manure-yielding food.
Bean and pea straw arc more valuable
for this purpose than the straw of the
cereals.
1 Many scientists and not u few farmors
believe that animal manure is mnro ira
med.atelv available for the use of plants
when applied directly to tho land than
whon previously mixed with a groat
bulk of litter, as fermentation with litter
probably results in the formation of
nitrogenous humus compounds, which
are insoluble and decompose but slowly
in the soil. The uso of litter in the
preparation of farm-yard manure is,
however, u necessity, especially in tho
winter time.
Scientists, some of them at least,
assert that the immediate return from
an application of farm-yard manure is
much loss than from the same amount of
plant food applied in artificial manures.
The effeet of farm-yard manure,
however, is spread over a considerable
number of years.
Away With Tronaers.
Tho worst and ugliest feature in mod
ern costume* is the trousers. Pre
viously to the beginning of the prosent
century this ungraceful article was un
known. In the far-distant past the
Phrygians had worn trousers, but they
were loose and of thin material, falling
into pleasing folds, bat nowhere that I
know of, whether on vase or wall, in
missal, window, or hook, do we find
the shape of the leg concealed in the
wav in which the nineteenth century
conceals it. Why’ is this so? Why are
these things hiddenP Are the calvei of
the present day loaner than of yore? Or
is it that we have grown honest enough
to despise padding them, and are
obliged, therefore, to hide them away?
The exact reasons which led to the in
troduction of trousers aro perhaps
hardly worth seeking; they seem, how
ever, to have been evolved "at the more
dicta'o of fashion from the tight trousers
and Wellingtons of the early part of the
century, these, in turn, having grown
from the knee-breeches and stockings
of fifty years earlier, lint what is im
portant to bear in mind is t hat history
nn-s no record of a garment at once so sim
ple and so ugly as trousers. We tire going
clean against all precedent in shrouding
our limbs in cloth funnels devoid of
graceful shape and incapable of folds.
And this departure from ancestral wis
dom has no particular advantage to re
commend it. Trousers aro not econo
mical inasmuch as they get baggy at
the knee long before they are worn out.
They are always getting dirty at the
ankles. They aro not specially adapted
either for cold or wet. On a wot dav
te'MlW feT
changing the whole garment. Indeed,
it is the way in which they ignore the
knee-joints "which renders trousers prac
tically so objectionable. It is at this
joint that they drag, and not only spoil
their own shape, but inflict a sense of
tightness over the whole body by means
of braces.
The mere discarding of trousers, and
substituting knickerbockers and stock
ings, would effect a great reform in male
costumes, a more striking and salutary
chauge than any other detail, except
perhaps the abolition of the tophat. It
u almost a waste of breath to declaim
against trousers, their hideonsnass is so
generally admitted. Sculptors and
painters have found them quite intracta
ble, and resorted in despair to oiotbing
men of the nineteenth century in Roman
drapery. Examine what record of cos
tume you like, and you will find the
shape of the lower part of the leg cither
displayed or clothed with an interesting
boot until you oorne to this century.
Turn over the pages of AiticA, aod you
can not fail to he struck with the superi
ority of knickerbockers over trousers
froth a picturesque point of view, while
for oouifort and utility they are equal v
to be preferred. This substitution "f
knickerbockers or knee-breeches fu
trousers is one of the pressing reform?
of the dav—the change it so simple and
yet ao effectual— J. A. Qotek, in the
CiollUer.
—The common afljiction experienced
in the birth of the t-wo-headed girl has
been counter-balanced by the nirth at
Brownsville, Nob., of a one-htaded girl
with tocr perfect legs and font - perfect
arms. Tt<us docs ’.he whirligig of time
make all thing* even.— Chicago herald.
Conquering a Mule.
“ Ben Appleby, of St- Lonis, had a
mule,” said the stableman, “which
was one of the know ingest cusses you
ever saw. I dunno where Ben found
him, but, one day he came dr vin’
home with th s rnu.e hit died ter the tail
end of his wagon. He was an innoc -nt
lookin’ animal, plump an’ fat, an’
looked like lie was goin’ to lie good for
•uthin’. Well, the next day after Ben
fot ’iin home he tried tor hitch 'ini up,
ut he wouldn’t be hitched. He jest
everlastin'hr kicked the wagon inter
splinters. He kicked one eend outer
ther stable, an’ kicked ther stall down,
an’ kicked everything in sight. Ben
took him out in the com-ticla ore day,
an’ hitched ’im to a plow, but be up an’
kicked that plow over inter ther next
lot. He was all right tinder saddle, but
ther min'd Ben tried ter hitch ‘ini ter
anything he jest kicked it outer sight.
No matter where lie was, if things
didn't suit ’iu„ he ieat let himself out
an’ kicked. Nobody but Ben dast go
ncar’im. Well, finally he tiisklvcrod
that oiorybody was scared of ’im, an’
he got the idee that he was the greatest
mule in that section of ther country.
11c had a way of cockin’ one car for
rard an’ the other backards, an’
winkin’ one aye when any one
came near ,im, as much as to say: 4 Git
on to me; I'm Ben Appleby's kickin’
inule, an’ don’t yer forgit it.’ Wiien
Ben would be ridin' ’nn there
road an’ they’d pass another mule, he’d
jist git his cars in position an’ wink an’
grin as much aster say: ‘l’m the only
mule in this country. I’m a kicker, I
am.’ He seemed to understau’ that be
had the dead wood on Ben, an' thet no
body could hitch 'ira to no sort of vehi
cle. He got chock, rain, jam full of
conceit, au’ use ter parade hisself aroun’
the barnyard like ho owned the place.
Ben made up his mind as how the mule
wouldn’t never be no ’count tell lie was
broke to drive in harness. He tried all
Sorts ’or ways. He hitched ’im to a
mowin’ machine, an’ the result was ho
had ter git anew machine. Tho mule
kicked it all outer shape. He broke up
everything that Ben tried ter hitch ’itn
to. Bimeby Ben got mad. He swore
he’d take the conceit outer that animal
if it tuk his hull farm. Then he begun
to study up ther case, till, one day a
man came along with one of thi m farm
engines what they run thrashin’ uior
sheons with. Ben says to ’ini, ‘l’ll
give yer live ilollcrs if you’ll let mo
hitch my mule ter that mersheon.’
' (sit out yer mule,’ sez tho man, an’
Ben led ’im outer the stable. '■He
can’t pull it,’ sc/, the man. ‘Never
mine,’ sez Ben, •he kin try it.’ So he
led the mule out in the road, an’ the
mule ho kttowed in a minit what was
goin’ on. lie cocked it is ears backards
an’ forrards, on’ grinned and sez to his
self:
“ ‘They’m goin’ to hitch me to that
thing. 1 Jog-gone ray skin. I’ll kick it
inter the next county. I’m Ben Apple
by’s kickin’ undo, 1 am. Watch me
now an’ see how I do it.’
“Well, Ben an’ the man got ’itn
hitched up to the mersheen no’ lie began
to kick gin liter boiler head. Ho
kicked, an’ he kicked, an’ he kicked,
but the mersheen never budged. Ben
nn’ the man sat on the fence a wntchin’
the job, an’ the fnnn a laughin’ to kill
hisself. Ben looked kinder satisfied,
but he never fetched a smile. Bimeby
the mule settled dmvu on his four legs,
an’ swung his head aroun’ an’ said to
hisself:
“‘Wat kino of a dog-gone vehicle i4
this, any how? She don’t fetch worth
u cent. Maybe somethin’s the matter
witli my legs I’ll go for it agin, any
how.’
“Alt' lie -et his teetli together an’
began to kick agin’. Welt, sir, ho
hammered his heels agin’ tliul boiler
head till lie was block In the face, hut
she never weakened. Then lie’ll stop
an take brcatli an’ sw ear, an’ then he’d
kick agin’. Well, sir. lie kep’ that up
fur half nn hour, till he was as weak as
a cat, uu’ ttien lie stopped an’ flopped
botli ears I'orrnrd an' cried like a baby.
Beil let 'im slau’ there a little while, an’
then lie onhilched im ini’ took im back
to the stable. The next day lie hitehed
'ini up to a buggy, an’ he trotted off
without sayin’ a word, an’ to-day lie’s
as decent an’ respectable a mule as they
is in the county. Ben’s wife drives im
to town mos’ every day in a fay ton.—
St. Louis licvublican.
Rabies in Midsummer.
It is a pretty big job to pilot a baby
through a summer's campaign. A
prominent Cincinnati physician, being
interviewed the other day, expressed
tlie opinion that a baby "should never
bo given milk savo from the breast of
its mother, or, if that be impossible,
from tlie breast of a foster-mother. Ho
stated that so many of tlie dairy cows
nowadays are consumptive or other
wise diseased that, in the first place,
their milk, even if unadulterated, is
poisonous. Again, lie said that tlio
cow’s milk is jostlod for hours in hot
weather before it is delivered to con
sumers, and thus it is literally churned.
Thus it is eminently unfit for the use
of infants. The conduct of mothers
who nurse their children from the
breast was also referred to. Frequently
it is the case that mothers become over
heated and wrought up over the wash
tub and other household duties, and
their milk is then unlit for a child to
drink. A baby’* stomaoh is irritable
ami teuder. It is overloaded wivu
ami it becomes a source of pain, just as
a cinder does when it. files info a per
son’s eve. Remove uio cinder and re
lief folfows. The baby throws up the
milk and the pain ceases, unless it lie
hot weather, when it goes off through
the bowels and sickness result*. So it
is with solid food, only in a more pro
nounced degree. Therefore solid food
should uot lie given ail infant until if
is able to masticato its food. Espe
cially starch food, such as potatoes,
etc., should be avoided. Otic great mis
take mothers make is to suckle their
children everytime they cry. That is
not right. They ought not to give them
the breast oftenar than once in two
hours at first, and this interval ought to
be lengthened to three hours after
awhile.' During the night they should
not suckle them more frequently thau
onoe. The proper thing to do is to give
them a drink of water. The little things
are oftener thirsty than hungry. The
doctor said that ice should lie given the
little ones in abundance while they are
teething. It relieve* and oool* tho hot,
inflamed gums, and the baby does not
swallow enough ice-water "to hurt it,
because it wastes the greater part of it-
The use of flannels on babies all through
the summer was animadverted upon se
verely. The doctor declared that chil
dren should be clad to suit the weather.
In very warm weather the infants ought
Vo be allowed about one garmet, and
that a pretty light oae.—Cittcirmat* £n
grirtr.
A t oney island horse-Jockey who
died the oilier day con esoed m having
participated in thirteen “put-up" : a ’o* .
where it was arranged beforehand which i
horse was to will
Ranch Fanning.
As the traveler approaches the Rocky
Mountains from either side he finds
that the words farms and farming have
become obsolete among the inhabi
tants, and that ranch and ranching,
from the Spanish rancho, have taken
their place. In the valley.s among the
mountains the ranches are necessarily
limited in extent, and nearly all the
tillable lands aro confined to narrow
strips, bordering some rivulet or larger
stream coming down from the peaks.
These streams are fed by the melting
snows in summer; and although the
water is generally exceedingly cold, it
answers very woll for irrigating the hot,
black soils of the valleys, as rains can
not be depended upon to supply tho
requisite amount of moisture necessary
for producing any kind of farm or gar
den crop. In some of tlie valleys ex
cellent wheat can be grown, but the
most common and profitable crops aro
oats, millet or hay, potatoes, and nearly
all kinds of garden vegetables, with the
exception of those requiring a long
season and great heat. Everywhere in
the mountains and valleys the nights
are cool; consequently there are few
localities where any except the earliest
varieiies of corn succeed, or tomatoes
and melons will ripen; but peas, beets,
carrots, and all the varieties of cabbages
and cauliflowers, grow to a large size,
and are of excellent quality. All of the
cabbage tribe of plants appear to find a
most congenial soil and climate in the
valleys of the Rocky Mountains.
The extreme fertility of the soil of the
valleys and the absence of no*iou3
weeds have a tendency to make the
ranchmen indolent and careless of all
things pertaining to the cultivation and
care of crops. We have known men
residing on tho plains to go into some
canyon In the spring, plow up tho
virgin soil near a brook, plant a few
acres of potatoes, fix a ditcii to supply
the plants with a little extra moisture,
and then return home, never visiting tho
spot again until digging time in the fall.
If everything goes well, an excellent
Crop and a large yield will be secured,
but it does not seem to disturb the ranch
man’s peace of mind if he fails in this
kind of farming three years out of four.
The quality of the potatoes raised in
these elevated regions is generally ex
cellent, and much superior to those
raised on tho plains or rich prairie soils
at a lower altitude, and they always
command a ready sale and good prices
in tho mining camps scattered over a
region of country several thousand miles
in extent.
An Eastern farmer would consider the
prices obtained by the ranchmen suffi
ciently high to be quite remunerative,
especially when so little labor is expend
ed to produce a crop; but high prices
and the great yield do not appear to be
a sufficient stimulus to these mountain
eers to make them extend their planta
tions or exert themselves to give their
crops better care. Perhaps there is
something in the oiimate which is de
pressing to one’s spirits, or nature is too
{irodigal in her gifts, but whatever may
ie tho cause, it is certain that the West
ern ranchmen are about as indolent and
easy going a class of men as can be
found in America. They are satisfied
to live in miserable huts, partly because
they can not afford to build bettor, and
partly because after a few years their
aspirations do not reach above a log
house or a dugout and enough coarse
food to supply the actual needs of na
ture.
Strange as it may seem, the larger
proportion of these ranchmen aro East
ern men, accustomed in their younger
days to the comforts and associations of
refined society; but for some unaccount
able reason the aspirations of their youth
only remain as faint glimmerings of
ideas long since abandoned. They ap
pear to enjoy their crude, half-civilized
life, and wc have hoard many of them
say that they would not exchange their
rude huts and free and easy mode of
living for all the luxuries to tie obtained
in the older and more thickly settled of
the Eastern States. This shows how
easy it is for tho human race to return
to barbarism. Some of our readers
may think that they would do differently
if placed under similar circumstances;
but we doubt it, for there is something
in tho climato and surroundings of tho
Western ranchman that prevents his
going further or advancing any higher
in tho scalo of refinement than the po
sition in which we find him. We do not
say that lie is an ignoramus, for there
are college graduates and good scholars
among thorn; but they soon become
rusty, probably from their rusty sur
roundings.—N. Y. Sun.
Tlie Late Jewel Robbery at Rio Janeiro.
Tlie riddle of the recent robbery of
the jewels of the imperial ladies at
Rio Janeiro had a curious solution. Alt
er putting into prison three persons on
suspicion, and complete failure to dis
cover any trace of the jewels, or light
on anything definite in regard to the
actor or actors in the theft, tho Chief of
Police received an anonymous letter de
claring tho writer the only author of the
theft, and saying that if they went to a
certain spot near the house of the pris
oner l’niva the jewels would be found in
two tins interred in the ground. Tho
Chief and two police officers, all dis
guised, set out for St. Clirislovam. tak
ing the prisoner Pairs out of jail on tho
way to show them the spot described in
the letter. Tho spot was soon found,
and after some time spent iu digging, a
largo till w a.* ,tu >■'. a. -u -a
icslots were found. Alter the jewels
bad been valued judivhdh, the Chief
wont to Potropolis and dolivored them
to their imperial owners, who had pre
viously come to the conclusion that they
were completely lost. The value as
signed by tho experts was at least #400,-
000. The real thief lias not yet been
discovered, but the throe prisoners were
nt once discharged on the recovery of
the jewels.
—The finding of such great quantities
of ’‘historic relios” upon the French and
Indian battle-grounds of Pennsylvania
lias led to an investigation, aud the in
vestigation to a discovery that a Spriug
tiold, Mass., gnu factory has been ship
ping canister by tho keg to those inter
est., ng grounds, having them buried, and
afterward resurrected fur the delectation
—and the money—of seekers of antiqui
ties.
—-Air. Verplanck Colvin sketches
camp life iu the Adirondack* with a
graphic and realistic pencil when he
writes: “The I‘oais have made a de
scent upon my camp during my ab
sence. and dtmoli&hed touts and baggage
so that I must refit. 1 wish you were
here to see how thoroughly a party of
bears can destroy things when they set
about it"—a wist iu which not every
reader will coincide.
—Judge William Nye alludes to a per
son. who contributed a “Poem on
spring’’ to tho Laramie ll< om rang, as
an into lectual tumor. This is the best
name for it so far. but there are several
pro inets uot yet heard from Courier*
Journal.
RELIGIOUS AND EDUCATIONAL.
—Miss Louisa Howard, of Burlington,
Vt.. has given $5,000 to the University
of Vermont, for the establishment of
five scholarships, to be known by her
name.— V. Y. Post
—The Chinese Sunday-school of the
Mount Vernon Church, Boston, has 110
members, and is increasing so rapidly
that it is hard to supply teachers. A
teacher is required for each pupil.—Bos
ton Post.
—The woman's suffrage organ in
Portland, Ore., gives much credit totlo
girls in the public schools of that city
for their success in wirhing aii of the
four medals offered by Mayor Thomp
son to the best readers.
—A religious paper in the far West
says that since the revised version of the
New Testament has taken “hell” out
of several passages, and “ fool” out of
several others, many people are taking
more comfort in reading tho Scriptures
than they ever did before.
—The New York Times , in a sixteen
column article showing the progress of
religious denominations in that city be
tween 1845 and 1882, shows that while
the population has increased 225 per
cent., the total Protestant church mem
bership increased but 76 per cent.,
while the Gath die Church membership
increased 950 per cent., or train 50,000
to 600,000.
—The Board of Foreign Missions of
the Presbyterian Church have appro
priated for the year 1882, and to May 1
of 1883, the sum of .$640,000. Since the
year Mo3.the Board has received in gifts
and legacies $10,496,330, and the en
tire sum has been used in missionary
work. Thirty new missionaries are
being sent out by the Board this year.
—Christian Union.
—The Methodist ministers of Provi
dence, R. 1., recently discussed the sub
ject of ordaining women. The disci
pline of the church requires as qualifi
cations for ordination “gifts, grace and
usefulness,” and it was urged that the
unwritten law required the candidate
shonhl be of the masculine gender. Dr.
Talbot, the prosiding elder, said lie did
not object so much to their preaching,
but there were other things involved
which they could not do; and one of
these was to baptize by immersion.
“ Dickens’ Dutchman.”
Old Charlie Langheimer, “Dickens’
Dutchman,” who on Wednesday last,
after four weeks’ freedom, was sent
back to the Eastern Penitentiary to
complete Ids eightieth year on earth and
his forty-third year in prison, was
heartily glad to return to his old quar
ters after his experience with the “phil
anthropist” who attempted to reform
hint after his last discharge. Old Lang
heimer says that soon after liis release,
in June, he received a letter, “so nice
dot 1 could not read him,” from a doc
tor residing at Spring Mills, a small vil
lage in Center County. He took tlie
letter to his son-in-law and found that
the writer desired to reform him. The
old man was invited to come on to Cen
ter County; was told that the best of
care would lie taken of him. and that
his only work would be to attend to the
flower-garden and to employ the artistic
taste which he had exhibited in decorat
ing his cell in improving the grounds of
hi* patron. . The benevolent gentleman
had prudently neg'ected to send any
money or* ticket to old Langheimer, but
kindly referred him to George W.
Childs for the wherewithal to pay his
passage. The. venerable jail-bird, ac
cording to his "own story, went to Mr.
Childs and showed him the letter. The
benevolent proprietor of the Ledger , al
though ho knew nothing of the philan
thropist beyond the bare fact of his ex
istence, kindly supplied Langheimer
with a railway ticket, and, after giving
him a liberal allowance of money and
good advice, * sent him on liis way re
joicing.
Langheimer reached his destination in
the evening ami was welcomed with
open arms by his patron. Rut the morn
ing dispelled tho old man’s virions of
pastoral tranquility and floral bliss. Not
a flower was discernable about the
place, but the philanthropist smiled
blandly and benevolently as he intro
duced “Dickens’ Dutchman” to a large
wheelbarrow, a spado and an old a'x,
and informed him that he could employ
his artistic taste in cutting sod from
along tho railroad track, hauling it to
the top of the. high lawn, a distance of
several hundred feet, aiul laying it there.
Langheimer meekly followed his instruc
tions, but tlie barrow was heavy, the
sun was hot, the ax-handle was rough,
and the memory of liis old cool, cozy
quarters in the Eastern Penitentiary
came regretfully back to the veteran
prisoner. For two weeks, however, lie
remained at h:s work upon the lawn.
More and more strongly he felt that this
kind of reforir was not congenial, but
tho dread of anew misfortune was upon
him. Ho heatd that the philanthropist
was sodding liis lawn in the expectation
of summer boarders, and shrewdly
guessed that he himself might bo de
signed as a benevolent side-show to at
tract literary rustieators. This was
more than the old man could bear, and
ho begged to be allowed to return to liis
old homo.
As blistered hands, unaccustomed fa
tigue and exposure, and a growing dis
inclination to work were fast making
him a white elephant upon the hands of
the philanthropist, the latter was willing
t*. vit'.M him up, and him a, ***•—
ticket anu *3 as a godspeed. Thus ac
coutered, Langheimer at once started
for Philadelphia. Humbled and satiated
of philanthropy, he remained for one
week without stirring from the house of
his son-in-law. On a fine, sunshiny day
ho strolled otu for the first time. Again
the siren spell of an open door and an
unguarded mjney-till allured him, and
again he fel. This is old Lingheim
ar’s story of Hs experience with his ben
efactor, and he told it to an old friend
ae joyously surveyed the narrow limits
of his cozy ctA, and said:
“ I guess d.'tt di*h is de best blase lor
me after alls. ‘Mladelphi i Times.
A Rose Ihalge.
To hide fn#n view an unsightly wall,
or shield frefi cold w inds flower be Is
cut iu the ttrf. nothing can be bettor
than a hedgoof rose bushes. O tain a
number of varieties of roses, of nil
shades, front white to crimson, with a
sprinkling if yellow here and there.
Plant the<e jpromls'uouely in a deep,
wide trenchfftlied with moist and rich
soil. For tjis there can he nothing bet
ter than tndd taken from an ol I "e’tip
yard near a farmer'.- dooi. and mixed
"with equal parts of the soilthrown from
the :ivnib- Rose* need planting in
moist ant rich earth, aniif mulched
e cb sprng with a little f the s aie
rich me !, "'ll grow rap Ty. and thu
holge viß b* * bnc of he.uti each suc
—A negro of Camden County, N. C.,
stooped to ki.-s his baby that lay sleeping
in its cradle, when a Jightning stroke
killed them both.
Romantic Marriage.
The following announcement recently |
appeared in a morning paper:
W ATKI N'B—l 'OWN E R—O J the 17tU Inst.. bV
the Hi v. Suui'ii'l Shannon, Millard I*. Wu' sins
and Mary C-uiiorlao l owlier, both of J.a.u
moicCity, Md.
There is qni'o an interesting story j
connected with this announcement which
is furnishing food for gossip among the
fashionable residents of Northwest Bal
timore, and which proves conclusively
that, the lot of a policeman, although
hard at times, can be happy as that of
any other man. Tho happy llonidiot in
the present instance is a well-known
and popular officer of the Northwestern
District, whose repivation for steadiness
and close attention to duty is second to
that of no other officer on the force.
About one year ago lie ivas appointed
to the position lie now occupies, and
was detailed to w >rk a beat on Pennsyl
vania avenue. Within a few doors of
the point a 4 which his beat ended, and
where he genera'iy met the Sergeant,
lived Miss Katie Fowner, the daughter
of a wealthy liquor dealer. Miss Katie,
as she was known, although verv young
in years, had already several admirers,
and not a few would have gladly taken
her for better or wor.-e. Officer Wat-
kins passed the house every evening
with his squad to go on duty, _nd, be
coming attracted by the fresh and youth
ful countenance, ob : ained an introduc
tion and cultivated the acquaintance
when off duty. From the first Miss
Katie seemed to like the officer’s com
pany, and it was not long before a
mutual attachment sprang up between
them, which lias since ripened iipo deep
and ardent love. All this time, though
matters seemed to bo progressing
smoothly enough, the parents of the
young lady objeeled to the visits of the
officer, and their course of true love was
destined not to run as smooth as they
would have liked. The couple had no
objection to waiting for a reasonable
time, but matters were brought to a
crisis when it became known that the
parents were making arrangements to
go West and take her with them.
Finding it impossible to effect their
purpose in this way, they determined oil
a coup d’etat, which was well planned
and successfully carried outlast Sunday
evening. Taking advantage of a time
when her guardians were otherwise en
gaged, the young lady gathered to
gether some clothing, of which she
made a compact bundle, with the inten
tion of taking it with her, but fearing
that suspicion might be aroused, she
abandoned this idea and quietly left her
parental residence without it. It was
nearly dark now, and her absence was
not immediately discovered. At the
next corner she was joined by her lover
and his best man, Officer llartzell, and
the trio made all baste to the parsonage
of the Emery M. E. Church. As soon
as they arrived here the key was turned
in the door for fear the parents might
surmise their whereabouts and en
deavor to prevent the marriage. Noth
ing, however, intervened, and within a
few moments thereafter the Rev. Sam
uel Shannon pronounced the happy
couple man and wife.
In the meantime the yfoung lady was
misled, and thinking that she had been
taken to her lover’s home, her father
went to his house, but they had no
knowledge of the couple’s whereabouts.
On his wav back, however, he met the
newly-wedded p.:ir, who had just come
from"the parsonage. Unaware that his
jurisdiction h:id ceased,,the father en
deavored to get his daughter to go home
with him, but to this her husband
strenuously objee ed, claiming liis right
as a hu-biind to lake care of his wise.
To this the father would not listen, and
a scene was imminent, when the hus
band, exciching his prerogative as an
officer, arrested Mr. Towner, and took
him to the Northwestern Station. He
charged him with disturbing the public
peace by interfering with himself and
wife, but said that be did not desire to
press the charge if left to go his way
in peace. Capi. Earhart decided then
to dismiss the case, but requested Mr.
[•'owner to remain there for a few min
utes until the others had departed. This
he accordingly did, and the newly
married pair went on their way rej ic
ing, anil tier father returned homo.
Thus the matter now stands. It is
thought, however, that Mrs. Watkins’
parents will finally relent, and that all
will be forgiven. — Baltimore special to
Si. Louis Globe-Democrat.
Pearl Fishing in (he Indian Ocean.
When cholera and its attendant quar
antine forced us to abandon the trip to
Bagdad, we lost a chance of seeing
the pearl fisheries of the Persian Gulf.
Here again in Ceylon we were fated to
miss the same coveted sight. The loca
tion of tho pearl banks is the Bay of
Condatchy, less than a hundred and
fifty miles north of Colombo. Despite
the magnitude of this interest, which is
a State monopoly, no town of any ex
tent marks tho favored vicinity,
and tho surrounding landscape is
parched, flat, and inhospitable. Yet
when it is announced, after an
official inspection, that fishing will be
permitted during certain months,usually
in the spring, tlie lifeless place becomes
ari animation. A great; fleet of boats
gather from the neighboring coasts,
and a multitude of revives come from
the interior.
U a given signal, that, all may fare
equally well, tile exciting work begin.*.
Hundreds of divers, ready with their
sinking stones, roues and baskets, in
stantljr plunge into the sc. |, t U..-
nient they reappear, bream ressfrom the
long imm r-ion. with their biskets full
of the peettffar mollusks which bear the
preeiou* gem*. Then another -it de
scend into the and, pi hs, each craft having
several, and so on tilt the boats arc
laden. The divers are sometimes at
tacked by sharks and obliged to use
their knives in •!■ feu-e.
When the oysters are landed a di
vi-ion is made. 1 lie butt men receive
either a third or a fourth ns their share
(f am in doubt which), while tho Gov
ernment generously takes tho remain
der. Those belonging to the colony
are at once disposed of at auction, in
lots of a thousand. The result of these
sales is, of course, an assured revenue.
But such is not the position of the
buyer. His purchase is distinctly a
speculation. There is qi certainty that
it will yield in pearls enough to exceed
the amouut of hi*outlay. He could bid
for unclaimed ex pee - packages with
equal hope of profit. A hundred oysters
may not contain a solitary pearl, and
yet two or three might be found in oue
shell. ■
The mollusks aro allowed to pntrify
in the burning suu, and are then care
fully washed, to extract the dainty jew
els from the foul dross. During this
odorous process the owner must be over
vigiiant, or his workmes will relieve
him of the treasures. In truth,
pearl fishing, liko ni ning for diamonds
and gold, is for all concerned a precari
ous occupation.— Singapore Cor. PAila.
dclphia Bu'ltlin.
—Poorly-ventilated stables are hot
beds of disease.
Onr Waning Forests.
In all the numerous articles that have
fallen under our notice anout the de- i
struetion of our forests, we have never
seen any doubts expressed about the 1
facts in the case, or any thing hopeful
upon the other side of the question.
The impression left upon the mind of
; the reader is, that every acre of wood
, land cut off is never renewed without
artificial means, and that the country is
doomed to barrenness in a few genera
| tions at the longest, by reason of the
; disappearance of our forests. It takes
\ so many millions of acres for fuel, still
: more for lumber, millions for railroad
■ ties, agricultural tools and machines,
lasts, shoe pegs, ma'ches, boxes for
! packing, etc., every year, and at this
• rate the country is soon to be denuded of
its forests, the streams dried up, and our
! agriculture and manufactures depending
: upon water-power are coming to ruin in
a very short time. This is the picture
as it is pre-ented to us by the city editor,
! as he looks at things from his sanctum.
It is about time this nonsense was
; exploded, and the facts in the case
; stated as they appear to us wood
1 choppers and clod-hoppers in tho
I country. It is undoubtedly true tha
j there has been a great decrease of
1 forests in the old seaboard States, since
the first settlement of the country, for
that has been a necessity, without which
there could be no agriculture, and not
much increase of population. It took at
least a hundred years in these States to
remove so much of the forest as was an
obstruction to agriculture. Not more
than one-fifth of tho area of a country
reed be left in wood, to secure its high-
est productiveness in farm crops. This
point luis not yet been reached in some
parts of the seaboard States, yet in
other parts it has been somewhat passed,
and there is a deficiency of wood for
fuel and timber. Tho alarmists over
look the most important fact that very
much of the timber land that is cleared
in the older States is very soon renewed
by natural agencies. There is a regular
system of growtn and clearing, and
timber and fuel are as much reliable
money crops as corn and potatoes. On
fair, average soil, a forest will renew
itself once in twenty-five years. It
would probably pay better to stand
thirty or forty years, but it is available,
and can be turned into ready money
every twenty-fifth year. A farmer with
twenty-live acres of forest can clear an
acre every year with no diminuton of
woodland.
In the rural districts of Connecticut,
with which we have been familiar for
the last fifty years, there has been no
waning of forests. Ship-timber, neat
seaports, has grown, scarce and high,
but the price of wood for fuel is no
higher, and in some markets is even
cheaper than it was fifty years ago. Tho
census shows .hat, in the exclusively
agricultural towns, there has been no
increase of population, and in some of
them a decrease (luring the last forty or
fifty years, so that there is no more de
mand for fuel aud timber to-day than
there was in the days of our grand
fathers. Wood for fuel, except in tha
shape of kindlings and charcoal, has
gone out of use in our cities and vil
lages on the seaboard and along the line
of our railroads. Farmers, not a few,
within four or five miles of these vil
lages, are beginning to use coal, and
the base-burner, once in the parlor or
sitting-room, soon drives out the wood
fires and stoves from the rest of the
house. Coal is found to be far cheaper
and a cleaner and more convenient fuel
than wood, even for those who own wood
lots. Kerosene is also becoming avail
ab'e for heating, and we see no prospect
in the future that wood for fuel will eve:
be any’ more in demand than it is to
day. It is doubtful if it ever will be
dearer for lumber. Iron is taking its
jdace irr ships, bridges, machines,
houses and public buildings, and the de
mand for iron, stone, brick, as the most
desirable materials for building is likely
to increase as tho country increases in
wealth. In some of these rural district!
there is more danger of a relapse into
wilderness and barbarism than of ex
terminating our forests for the ad
vance of high farming and civilization.
In seventy-live of our farming towns
there was a decrease of 12,000 in popu
lation during the last decade, which
means an increase of woodland. In
a ride of an hour, yesterday, in one of
the towns bordering on tho Connecticut
River, we passed six old chimney stacks
and cellars, the sites of deserted" homos,
the road for much of the way bordered
by forests. Even in the Nutmeg State,
where we use some superfluous wood, it
is difficult to feel the alarm about wan.
ing forests.—Cor. American Agricul
turist.
Say What You Mean.
*1 your friends know that yon love
them. Do not keep the alabaster boxes
of your love ami tenderness sealed up
: untii pour friends are dead. Fill their
lives with sweetness. Speak approving
cheering words while their hearts can be
thrilled by them. The tilings you mean
to say when they are goue say before
they go. The flowers you mean to
send for the coffins send to brighten and
sweeteu their homes before they leave
them. If my friends have alabaster
boxes laid away, full of perfumes of sym
pathy and affection, which they intend
to break over my dead body, I would
rather they would bring them out iu my
we**.' hours ami open them, that I Uiav
be refreshed and cheered l>y them while
x u..,i it..,,,. i would rather have a bare
coffin without a flower, and a funeral
without an eulogy, than a life without
the sweetness of love and sympathy.
Let us learn to anoint our friends be
forehand for their burial. Post-mortem
kindness do not cheer the burdened.
Flowers on the coffin cast no fragrance
backward over the weary days or otu
lives.— Ex.
T ie Sunday question has become
sontewa.it entangled at New Haven. A
Hebrew proprietor of a cigar .tore
; . -e, ..i.-; store on Saturday, which is
. > and claims that he ha* a
f .° keep it open on Sunday. His
r m t conceded. Thereupon comes
be:- Hebrew, who keeps a saloon, i
■a the groat principle of religion* !
' j' 1 * tb ” r ‘g ht to ply hi* |
, >J '' • But a* the law ro-’j
'! ' : '■ ’ !le *'• sen mg of saloons on Sun- I
isynforrod in Connecticut, his de
n >d t deni and, and he will be obliged
!“ c ’. ntest the constitutionality of 'the
b’ -v m the courts, or sell liquors on 1
p 'tp'isfi or keep closed shop two day*
in tue week. —Kew Haven Register.
—A New York merchant has been
rcmpeilt-d to suspend business through
tl.o speculative doings of his book-keep
er. in this connection it should be re
marked that book-keepers ought not tc
be too hard on the poor men who are
Dying to do business and pay them sal
urics. The book keeper, of course, is
Mi man to do business with; but he
grit to allow his employer to lire.— 1
fYt.ir Haven Register,
Fashion Items.
Watered Irish poplins are achieving
great success. 9
White dresses are worn evervwh.B
in town and country. ’ '■
Huge cabbage roses are worn ij
the bonnet, at. the top of. the pa JJ
and as corsage tlowers. ■
Broad ribbon sashes aro worn b ,1
million, from the.child of one vearl
the matron of sixty. t<!
l’ale blue or pale pink muslin d re .l
dispute the majority with spriweiDl
polka-dotted patterns. “
Lunch,-cloth, wherewith to Jna l
bright and picturesque a lawn party ■
in the new elegant shade of eardinl
with gold brocaded borderings and del
lringe of the same ve low hue. |
A bonnet made wholly of o-oosebl
ries, lately exhb.ted, met with 1
success, as did also one of plum-colon
tdicnifio, adorned with a bunch I
apricots. In the way of frui' gnrnitj
elderberries, in superb coloring, or r,J
green grapes, surrounded wdh 8 ;j j
powdered leaves, meet with thegr ea! l
favor
Small checked silks are made up I
many fanciful styles, and alwavs I
combination with other fabrics, pi J
merveilleux being the usual choice. 1
skirt of royal blue and white check!
silic is covered with wide
flounces, each headed with a narrJ
plaiting of royal blue surah. The cJ
sage and Watteau overskirt are of t|
plain blue material, with cuffs, pockJ
and pelerine of the checked silk.
White or black dresses are frequent!
adorned with multi-colored ribboj
hoops and long streamers, or jabots 1
mixtures of colors—olive,gray and pil
or pale blue cardinal and terra-cotta, f]
instance, being conjoined. Primro.4
bronze brown and crimson form anothj
fashionable combination, but the stigH
est error in tint destroys all the o 1
effect. Well blended, this simple trin
ming sufficiently brightens the sombrd
toilet.
Ribbon of every shade, design aifl
width forms an important part in tH
costumesof the day. Theold-fashionfl
stiff’ bow is seldom seen, the modern aH
rangenients being designated as cal
cade3, Hats, plaques, chotix orpumponM
and a dressy dress, or even a sim|
morning toilet, now looks incomple|
and expressionless until some ador|
ment of ribbon has been added. L T p|
some of the most fashionable costum|
are used ribbons by the dozen yar|
upon the skirt alone; and corsages anfl
wraps arc frequently covered with ioofl
of ribbon, mingled with waves of lac|
A novel skirt and stylish costume hfl
the short walking-skirt of black groß
grain silk, with Louis XIV. tunic of tkfl
same trimmed with richly-worked aB
plique bands of cut jet. Over this I
French ensaque of black and whiß
striped silk, fitting the figure very peifl
fectly, and fastened down the front vvitH
loops of silk braid and jet-beaded fro J
The parasol of bla k is adorned with jel
and lined with white silk; black silk.iiJ
sey glove, drawn on over the close coal!
sleeves of the casa pie, and a bonnet o|
black lace, wrought with jet heads, anl
trimmed with a semi-wreath of whitl
roses, complete ti.e costume.
Cnsaquins, polonaises, redingotesau
corsages a paniers will all be in favo
this anti the coming autumn season
Drawn bodi es are also much worn ivi I
diaphanous fabrics; the number of shin
on these, however, is greatly dimn
ishod. The corsages “ mademoiselle,’
with deep points, are quite flic leadin'
Style, for very rich materials, such ai
brocade, moire, lampas and the like
The Jeanne d’Arc corsage is a novelty
being oi oned at one side, :ind lace 1 iq
with silk or silver cords. This and till
corslets laced under the arms will b<
much worn (hiring the summer season
accompanied by a guimpe and sleeve
of Oriental gauze, or a chemisette Russ
of white silk India muslin, embroiderei
in the colors of the dross.
Adjustable trains have been found cn
tirely too convenient for the existenci
of any probability of tlieif going onto
fashion, as they are equally suitable to
all seasons. The vogue of scarfs, tab
liers and plastrons detachable from the
skirt, and fastened to it when desired hy
means of patent hooks or invisible but
tons, is nearly as great, as by this mean
the toiiet may bo varied almost indefi
nitely. A rich dress may be made in
the height of simplicity, yet in a few
moments the addition of a long, ad
justable court train in the back and
down the front, a lablier covered with
lace, glistening with passementerie ot
wrought with elaborate embroideries,
may transform this unpretending dress
into a toilette elegante. Plastrons o
pattern materials, or of satin, gauged
or plaited, arc still very fashionable,
while those of siik or satin, in light
shades covered with lace or hand-paint
ed, are exceedingly elegant. —A. L
Evening Dost.
Ancient Mexican Worship.
Of the whole system of Mexican wor
ship by far the most prominent feature
was its astounding ferocity. It was
drenched in every part with liuiuaß
blood. Its prie-ts were tin army oi
sturdy butchers, whose highest inac
tion was to cleave the victim’s breast
with the sacrificial hatchet and pluck
out his palpitating heart; its devotees
were ennui: uls wiio devoured the vic
tim's llesh in sacramental feast, and,
Hie die priests of Huai, cut them -elves
with knives and lancets. Each month
had its festivals o' -daughter, and in the
Capital all nr -so.* no human victims arc
saal to have Ixcn annually o eretL
from slaves and criminals, fr. m pris*
oners captured in wars undertaken lor
the purpose, from troop# of children
purcha ed tor the sacrifice, was the
ghastly death-contingent continually re
cruited. Some v. -re fatted in the sacred
cages, others loaded with honors and
sated with -casual delights to make them
the more acceptable offering-; sente per
ished on the altar by the faTal stroke of
the priest, others in (he mockery of
gladiatorial combat; some were flayed
alive, others tmng headlong into mount
a n whirlpools and lakes. Never was
superstition so -icken.n; with intolera
ble horrors. —Ww ;wootl's Magazine,
—A Brooklyn saloon-keeper was ar
j rested a few days ago for soiling brer
; without license to do so. In his exam
ination he swore that the stuff was
“ sebeank ” beer, and not intoxicating;
j that “ scheank ” beer was merely new
i beer, which contained only two per
cent, of alcohol; that bei-r must be at
lea-t three months old to be rightly
; termed “lager,” and that very little
•lager was so'cl in the summer. The jus
tice dismissed the saioon-ke per upon
that testimony, and thereby uncon
sciously demonstrated his dense igno
rance of beverages. Bnt then there is
such a tiling as being too well informed
upon such matters.—AT. Y. Hero and.
—During a late thunder-storm near
Centerville, Md., three nudes out of a
team of six were killed by lightning.
The male' were attached to a timber
wagon, geared tandem, and the light
ning struck the leader, missed the next,
struck the third, missed the fourth anc
fifth, and struck the breech mule, kilt
ing three.