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111 iff in* and the Wid*
One Sunday Higgins came into my office
and sat down without a word. For some
minutes he sat still, watching me intently
as if he was trying to make out by the
sound of my pen what I was writing,
“Squire/’ said he at length, "did I over
tell you about my scrape with the widow
Horrv. up here oil the river?”
“ Sever did,” said I, laying down my
pen. “ let’s hear it.”
r “ They're curious creatures, widows is,
said he in a meditative tone, "and the
more you study about 'em the more you
don't know about ’em. What was this
thing I've read about in Egypt, or some
other country, that nobody could un
" The Sphinx, probably, I replied.
“ Well ” he continued, “ that was a
widow as sure as you ever had a granny.
Everything else in the earth has been found
out but them, and they're as much a mys
tery to-day as the length of the North
Pole. You may read the history of the
world from Genesis to Revelations, and
you'll find that widows has been at the
bottom or top of five quarters of all the
devilment that's been cut up. Was you
ever in love with one ?”
“ Lots of them,” said I.
“ You're a great gander—that's what
you are,” said he. “A man that loves
one and gets over it won't never get bit by
another, if he’s got as much sense as a
ground hog. I don't consider I’ve got any
sense at all, but I’m a little grain too
smart to let another of them get all the
trumps on me. The widow Horry that I
was a speaking of, is a little the handsom
est woman I reckon that ever looked a man
into fits, and I ought to be a judge, for I’ve
seen lots of pretty women in my day. Shi
was about twenty-five years old when I
went up there to work, just in the bloom
of her beauty and as full of deviltry as a
three year old mule colt. There was a
ball over at Jenkins’, and of course I went,
for I always go where there's any fun
foing on, and generally act the fool before
get away, of course. The widow was
there, dressed as fine as Solomon’s lilies,
and flying around as frisky as a young
lamb in a rye patch. I got introduced to
her and asked her to dance with me, and
when she flushed her eyes at me and said
; yes,’ 1 jumped up like I had set down on
a griddle. You may talk about sensation,
but when she took hold of my hand and 1
sorter squeezed it, I felt a sensation as big
as a load of wood, and it kept running up
and down my back like a squirrel with a
[hawk after him. I’m very fond of dancing ;
Ibut I'll be hanged if I know whether I en-
Ijoyed it that night or not, for every time
Ish’e took hold of my hand I’d commence
peeling curious behind my ears and up and
Sdown my back again, and then I wouldn’t
Know whether I was on earth or in a bal-
Iloon, or on a comet, or anything about it.
lit was undoubtedly a case of love at first
jsight, and a powerful bad case at that. For
i a wonder I got through the frolic without
[making myself conspicuous or cutting up
[any extras, as I’m in the habit of doing
I when Igo into public. I'd set my pegs to
jjgo home with the widow after the ball, but
just as I was fixing my mouth to ask her,
iup steps a big, long, leather faced doctor,
[named Mabry, and walked her right off be
jfore my eyes. That riled me a little, but
[kept inv tongue still, inwardly swearing to
break his bones the very first opportunity
that presented itself. I saw there was no
use in saying anything, so I went home
and went to bed, and all the rest of the
night I was dreaming about rainbows,
angels, butterflies, fiddles, widows and
doctors, mixed up worse than a Dutch
man’s dinner. Well, ’Squire, to make a
short story of it, I made up my mind to
have the widow, or kill myself or some
body else. So I made it convenient to be
on hand where she was, upon all occasions.
I couldn’t cat, nor sleep, nor work, and if
the thing had held on, 1 wouldn’t have had
sense enough left to skin a rabbit. But I
was determined it shouldn’t last long, for
I’d been fooled so often by women that 1
thought I wouldn’t give her time to think
of anything but me. She appeared to take
to me right sharply, and the doctor seemed
inclined to mix in with me, but I didn t
consider him no more than a brush fence,
for I was so far gone I thought she could
see nobody on earth but me. W ell,
’Squire, things went on so for ’bout a
month, and one Sunday I screwd up my
spunk and put the question to her. She
sorter laughed and sorter looked one-sided,
and finally told me she couldn’t give me
an answer just then, but if 1 and call at her
house next Thursday evening she’d give me
a final answer. Thinks 1 you are mine
just as sure as there s a tiddler below.
W henever a woman takes time to study
she'll say yes. ’Squire, don't the poets
say something about the calculation of
men going crooked ?”
“Mice and men,” Burns says,” I an
swered.
“ Well, mice and rats is all one, and so
is men and fools sometimes, as I have
found out in my travels. 1 was so sure
she would have me I went off and spent
all my money for fine clothes, thinking I
would have them ready for the wedding—
and I did ! Confound that widow ! I say !
Confound all widows ! Thursday evening
came at last, though it was a long time
about it, and over I went dressed into fits,
and feeling as big as Josh Raynor did
when he was elected coroner. I got there
about dark, and found a right smart crowd
collected, which was not on the bills, but
I felt as big and as good as the rest of 'em.
So I marched in like a blind mule into a
potato patch, and took a seat by the fire.
I didn’t see anything of the widow, but 1
kept looking for her to come in and send
for me, and passed away the time by cuss
ing the crowd to myself, thinking they had
no business there, and I would not get to
talk to my woman a bit. Presently the
door opened and in walked Polly and that
long-legged Doctor, and a whole team of
boys and girls fixed up savagely, 1 tell
you. I looked around for a fiddler, think
ing they were going to have a ball, but
wondered what they kept so still for, and
was about proposing a reel, when up gits a
little preacher, and before you could swal
low a live oyster, he had Polly and the
Doctor married faster than a Mexican
greaser could tie a bull s horns. I was so
I completely flummuxed that I set there
with my mouth open like I was going to
i swailow the whole crowd, and my eyes
i looked like billiard balls till the ceremony
Was over, when I jumped up and bellowed :
VOL. I l-NO. 5.
“ I forbid the concern from being consti
tuted !”
" You are a little too late, my friend,"
said the preacher, and they all commenced
laughing like they had seen something
funny.
“ I’ll be sqnizzled if I don't be soon
enough for somebody yet,*’says I, “for I
was mad 'Squire, and no mistake in the
ticket. I could have eat that Doctor
quicker'n a hungry dog could swallow a
squirrel skin, if I could have had a fair
chance at him. It was too bad after 1 had
fixed up to marry' her myself, for her to
walk right out before my eyes and marry
that great baboon.”
“ It was bad, that is a fact,” said I.
“ Rad !” cried he, " it was meaner than
eating fried coon. I first thought I’d go
straight home, but then concluded that
wouldn't spite nobody, so 1 determined to
stay and see if I couldn't get satisfaction
out of somebody. You know I'm the
deuce to get myself or somebody else into
a scrape when 1 take a notion, and I’d
taken one that night that went all over me
like a third day chill, so I commenced a
study'n out some plan. I recollected hear
ing the doctor say that where he come
from (but the Lord* only knows where that
was) the bride and groom always washed
their faces together as a charm against in
fidelity, or some other long word. While
I was study’n about that, I spied the doc
tor's saddle bags sitting up in the corner,
so l waited till they went into supper, and
then I got the bags and looked to see what
I could discover. Nearly the first thing I
saw was a piece of lunar caustic. 1 slip
ped it into my pocket, for I had my plan
as soon as 1 saw it. Well, 1 watched
around till I saw one of the girls go the
pail with a pitcher, so 1 went out and
asked her what she was going to do with it.
She said she was going to carry it into the
room for the Doctor and Polly to wash
their faces in. I kept talking to her while
she was filling the pitcher, and when she
turned her head l dropped the caustic into
it. It was then about bed time, and I got
my hat and put out, but I couldn't help
laughing all the way home, whenever I'd
think about next morning.
“ Well, ’Squire, they do say that when
that couple waked up next morning they
both had the hardest kind of fits, each one
thinking they had been sleeping with a nig
ger. Oh, it was rich! He a cussin’ and
tearing up things, and she a faintin’ and
coinin’ to and going off again, and me not
there to see it. They made such an un
earthly racket that the folks broke into
the room to see what was the matter, and
there they was with their faces and hands
all as black as the inside of an old stove
pipe. I'd give half my interest in the
tother world just to have been at some safe
place where I could have seen the whole
row. As soon as they found out that they
was really the same folks that married the
night before, they called for warm water
and soap, but just here the doctor happen
ed to think about the pitcher and took it
to the door to see what was the matter.
There was a little piece of caustic that had
not dissolved, and as soon as he saw it, he
says :
“ It’s no use washing. Polly. All the
soap in New York city wouldn’t wash that
black off.”
“ That was the truth, ’Squire, soap and
water had no more effect than it would on
a native born African, and all the chance
was to wait and let it wear off. How long
it took them to get white again, I never
found out, hut one thing I do know,” he
concluded, getting up to go out, “the next
time 1 saw the doctor 1 had the hardest
fight, and come the nighest getting whaled
that I ever did in all my born days !”
Tlie nau that Fraud Made.
N. F. Sun.
This is the man that Fraud made.
This is the Schurz that clings to the man
that Fraud made.
This is the Gould that bought the Schurz
that clings to the man that Fraud made.
This is the Noyes that started-the Gould
that bought the Schurz that clings to the
man that Fraud made.
This is the Count that followed the Noyes
that started the Gould that bought the
Schurz that clings to the man that Fraud
made
This is the Key that closed the Count that
followed the Noyes that started the
Gould that bought the Schurz that clings
to the man that Fraud made.
This is the Matthews, shaven and shorn,
that fathered the Policy, all forlorn, that
forged the Key th t closed the Count
that followed the Noyes that started the
Gould that bought the Schurz that clings
to the man that Fraud made.
This is the Country, cheated and torn, that
spurns Stanley Matthews, shaven and
shorn, that fathered the Policy, all for
lorn, that forged the Key that closed the
Count tliat followed the Noyes that start
ed the Gould that bought the Schurz
that clings to the man that Fraud made.
A Cure For Rheumatism.
An agricultural journal recommends the
following recipe as a simple and invaluable
remedy for rheumatism : “ Take a pint of
spirits of turpentine, to which add half an
ounce of camphor ; let it stand till the cam
phor is dissolved, then rub it on the part
affected, and it will never fail of removing
the complaint. Flannel should be applied
after the part is well fomented with tur
pentine. Repeat the application morning
and evening.” It is said to be equally
available to burns, scalds, bruises and
sprains, never failing of success.
A young man sent sixty cents to a firm
in Michigan who advertised a recipe to
prevent bad dreams. He received a slip
of paper on which was written : “ Don’t go
to sleep.”
HARTWELL, GA., WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 2(5, 1577.
A I'oillrHl Love l.i'ltvr to Ninncy.
To thee, dear Nancy, thee my sweeting.
Your own dear Jacob sends you these lines
greeting :
With you. by all the powers above,
I’m over head and cars in love;
For Cunid took a statidb sly
In one uright corner of your eye,
And from his bow let fly a dart
Which missed my ribs ami hit my heart,
And ope'd a way so broad and wide
As mute deranged my inner side,
But I, alas ! too quickly found
That love had entered at the wound
As mice into a cheese w ill creep
Through a small crack and. entering deep.
Will eat and live while all looks well
Till all they leave's an empty shell.
So I, dear Nancy, to my smart
Find I'm left without a heart.
And but a case of ribs and skm
And growing daily still more thin,
Nor shall 1 e'er my flesh regain
Unless your kindness 1 obtain.
So that you'll take my heart that's flown
And in exchange send me your own.
Oh ! Nancy, dear. I love you more
Than ever mortal loved before.
My tongue indeed will scarcely move
Unless it speaks of you and love,
My every part is in commotion
Whene'er I sec yourself in motion,
And whatsoever way you go
Mv eves your footsteps still pursue ;
Whether you move by day or night
You still are my supreme delight.
And when I miss you with surprise
The streams gush forth from both my eyes
And flowing Tike a rapid, river
Threaten to wash away my liver.
Indeed, so restless have I grown
I cannot bear to live aloqe.
For day and night ’tis all iny fancy
To ride and walk and be with Nancy,
tn you, my dearest, I behold
More tempting charms by far than gold,
Nor would the world without you be
A w orld of any worth to me.
Cotton, when gin’d and neatly prcst,
Is not so white as your dear breast;
Nor is tobacco half so sweet
To those who love the weed to cat,
As arc your charming lips to one
Who longs to glue them to his own.
Kindness, when beaming from your eyes,
Far more than cribs of corn 1 prize;
And should your smiles on me descend
I’d almost dance on either end.
Come. Nancy, love me, for indeed,
I’m of the honest faithful breed.
I’m more than all my neighbors know
A lad of substance than of show ;
I’m when in health full six feet high
With not a limb or joint awry ;
Of my wit I boast not, yet my brains
Keep me from traveling when it rains—
Unless to see the I should go,
I’ll stop not then for rain or snow ;
I know the odds ’twixt cheese and chalk ;
Can tell a handsaw from a fork.
Take me then, Nancy, and to you
I'll prove forever kind and true.
My love shall last so long no doubt
Savannah’s streams shall first run out,
And when death comes in lire and thunder
To cut the marriage knot asunder.
I’ll strive midst every change of weather
To make him seize us both together—
That is if through life with me you take up,
So that in death I may be your own dear
Jacob.
FonfcHNioii of a Step Mother.
Being present at the bod of a sick lady
once, I heard things that utterly confound
ed me. Said she r
“ I married Mr. Gale when I was seven
teen. He then was the father of two little
children, Alice and Green—beautiful chil
dren indeed. For a while after we were
married, I doated on them and loved them
intensely ; but by degrees my love for them
abated, and in a couple of years it was
changed into dowmright hatred. Mr. Gale
often looked very thoughtful and serious,
for he was a man of very acute discern
ment, but he never remonstrated with me
—he kept his keen mental anguish within
the private recess of his own bosom. As
my affection diminished, of course my ac
tions were more morose and tyrannical to
wards his children. My own two children,
Ida and Martin, took up all my care.
Everything that could be done towards
dressing, food and spoiling was done by
me ; and even Mr Gale often joined me in
it in a degree, perhaps more to diminish
my asperity towards his own, than to ca
ress mine. But he signally failed, if that
was his intention. After a while the chil
dren—all four—w'ere sent to school, and
now on my dying bed I confess mv parti
ality with a burning blush and a deep pun
gent pain of conscience. There two
baskets prepared, and with strict orders
for each couple to eat out of their own
basket. I gave my children fowl, pies,
sweetbread, watHes etc., but his had
nothing but corn bread, and fat meat.
Once 1 remember, Alice asked me to put
a bit of chicken in her basket, for she was
sick ; but I gave her cheek such a slap that
she never repeated the request. My chil
dren were well dressed, but his were
j obliged to wearcoaise and patched clothes.
If then thought that no one would notice
i the difference that was made ; and I learn
that it is the common neighborhood talk.
1 shall soon die, and I want all the neigh
bors to know that I am sorry for my past
acts, and if I could live I would certainly
do better.” She then called Green and
Alice to her bedside, and asked their for
i gjveness for treating them so, and especially
! when going to school. Alice with tears in
! her eyes replied :
“Nevermind that ma; for Ida and Mar
tin always let us eat with them. And as
j to the clothing, brother and I were always
I clad better than we deserved.”
*’ Dear child,” she added, I wish I could
live, just to show you how different my
course would be. Dear Alice, I am so
glad that Ida divided dinner with you at
school. She was so much better than 1
was.”
After a few more incoherent sentences
the lady expired. Although this narrative
is a dream, when I awoke, I was very much
att'ectcd. Since that time I have seen many
step-mothers and step fathers that i wish
could realize what I did when Mrs. Gale
was telling me of her misconduct to her
step-children. Some step-parents, no
doubt, treat their step-children as well as
they can ; but by far the greater portion,
in our opinion, do not. There are so many
things in which they can make a difference,
and they are so cunning, that it would take
a very close ami acute observer to detect
the difference. They all, however, should
remember, that the all-seeing eye of Him
who will judge us all. sees into the inmost
recess of the heart. Step-parents have the
best facilities for being partial of any class
with which we are acquainted. One may
he cross and crabbed to a child tdat is too
small to take notice. llow shainefil and
cowardly it is to impose on a fatherless or
motherless child! The very one who
ought to be their friend and protector, is
often their enemy and persecutor ! Step
children ought not, of course, be allowed
to do what is wrong; but there can be rule
without tyranny, and obedience without
servility. If step-parents would think of
their own children being left in such a con
dition, and bring the matter right homo to
themselves, it is likely that often much
more lenity would be shown—many more
good words woifid be given—and a great
many less stripes and bruises inflicted, and
a vast deal less sins to be accounted for in
a coming day. Sam.
Mlmccllmiicoiim ItcniM.
The belief that baptism should be ad
ministered by immersion, with the face
downward, has spread among the Southern
negroes, and in Ilaleigh, recently, fifty-one
chose that mode.
“ Jones, if burglars should get into your
house, what w r ould you dos*” “ I’d do
whatever they required of me. I’ve never
had my ow r n way in that house yet, and
it’s too late to begin now—yes, alas ! too
late!”
A clergyman, on applying for an ap
pointment, was asked, “ 1 hope, sir, you
drink in moderation.” “Well. 1 try as
much as possible to drink like a beast 1”
“ Like a beast, sir!’’’ “ Yes ; I stop when
I have had enough, and that is what a beast
always does.”
Writing of the battles at Shipka Pass,
the correspondent of the Loin ton Daily
Telegraph says “ Let this fact fie noted—
that all the Turks found killed had their
throats cut, clearly showing that the men
were wounded lirst and slaughtered after
ward.”
Some amusement w r as caused not long
ago in an English court by a female wit
ness, who, on the oath being administered,
repeatedly kissed the clerk instead of the
book. It was sometime before she could
be made to understand the proper —or at
least the legal thing to do.
A Main-street man stood inside the blinds
the other day, and spent fifteen minutes
trying to brush a streak of sunshine oil
his pants with the clothes brush before he
discovered what it was. He was so mad
then that he jawed his wife, whipped three
of the children and sulked all the rest of
the day. —Bridgeport Standard.
To i’kkskkvk fruit without cooking :
Allow a pound and a half of sugar to a
pound of fruit. Pare and slice or quarter
the fruit and put in layers alternated with
layers of sugar on the top. and seal up
close to keep from the air. The flavor is
thus fully preserved, and in mid-winter
the fruit will be found rich and delicious.
—Detroit Free Dress.
“ Have you any rebutting testimony to
offer, Patrick?” asked the justice of a
prisoner arraigned for goat-killing. Pat
scratched his head ; anew light seemed to
dawn on him. ‘'Rebutting, is it? Shure
an’ that's just what’s the matter, yer Hon
or ; the bloody baste butted me till devil a
stich of sate wuz left on me breeches, yer
Honor, and that’s why I’m here to-day.”
Pat was acquitted.
Two brothers named Mitchell, confined
in the San Bernardine, Cal., jail, recently
escaped by presenting a wooden revolver
at the jailer's head while be sat at supper,
and so terrifying him that he gave them the
prison keys and suffered himself to be
bound hand and foot. The revolver was
whittled out of a pine stick, and stained
walnut color. Sheet zinc was fblled up
and fastened on to represent the cylinder
and chambers.
Now is the time of the year when the
“ hay-fever ” patients gather themselves
together from the four quarters of the land
and assemble in convention to “ whereas ”
and to “resolute” and to exchange ca
tarrhal and asthmatic symptoms. And
this is about the way they conduct them
selves in their assemblings together: A
member arise, handkerchief in hand, and
moves “ that the Rev. Henry Ward Bee—
a-chee—a-a-chu —a-cher take the a-che—a
chc—a-chair,” Carried. The gentleman,
in taking the chair, thanks the convention
“ for the hon—&-chee—or conferred upod
wild who has for so benny years beed wud
of the host ac—a-chee—tive workers in the
cause —a —which—chee —this convention
has so buck at heart, dabely. the abeliora
tion of the codition of the bultitudes who
suffer the discubcords of hay —a-fe—chee
—ber. This sample of what takes place at
a hay-fever convention must suffice. As
Artemus Ward used to say, “the subjec
lis tu painful ; let us drop a vale.” — N. i .
World.
WHOLE NO. 57.
CharMtcr of n .
11Y MIHN L. A. ATTAWAY.
It takes more to coustituto a lady than
is generally supposed.
Of course this term is applied to anyone
of the female sex. Is this, however, its
literal signification? Webster tells us
that a lady is “ a well-bred woman,” ami
also defines the wonl as it is usually atul
technically applied.
Wo are. however, deviating from the
point at which wo aim ; for it is not our
intention to define the term lady, hut to
delineate her characteristics.
It takes something else to make a genu
ine lady besides the delicate white hands
and fair face—besides the skill in music
and dancing, and the proper adjustment of
plaits, rutiles, Ac.
These are not tho requisites of a true
lady; hut we do not entirely condemn
these qualities, for we admire the skillful
musician, ami the dexterous lingers that
can cut and arrange to perfection. It is
said *• that the outward appearance is an
index to the heart,” and most assuredly
it is no mark of a lady to be careless and
negligent iu her attire.
Rut the genuine lady regards all formal
accomplishments and sensual qualifications
ot very little importance, since they add
nothing to the sum of real happiness. It
is the proper cultivation of the mind ami
heart that embellishes tho character of a
lady. She desires above all things to
please the Supreme Being, ami “ hath
chosen that good part, which shall not ho
taken away from her.” She feels that it is
her indispensable duty to do all in her
power for the advancement of Christianity
and the propagation of the Gospel through
out the world.
She likewise desires the happiness ami
welfare of her fellow-beings—ever ready
and willing to sympathize with them.
She leads the erring prodigal into the
paths of rectitude —renders assistance to
the widow and orphan, and delights in nl
leviating the sutleriiigs of the poor ami
needy—indeed, she does not regard it be
neath her honor and dignity to enter their
abode, and to pour tho halm of consola
tion into their hearts.
She is also a ministering angel to the
afllictcd. No hand like hers can smooth
the pillow' for the aching head.
The real lady hears the misfortunes of
life with patience. If her condition ho un
propitious—if sho be surrounded by pov
erty, she does not complain because she
has not been otherwise favored. She is
entirely resigned, under all circumstances,
to the dispensation of her Divine Master.
If. however, Dame Fortune lias filled her
cup to the utmost capacity, she is not
elated, neither regards others as her inte
riors because affluence has bedecked her
with silks and jewels.
If she be ns rich as Croesus, she is like
wise, the consistent, modest ami unas
suming Christian. Should the afflicting
roil he laid upon her, she hears it with
patience and fortitude, often exclaiming in
the language of the inspired writer:
‘‘Though lie slay me, yet will I trust
in Him.” The true lady, also, governs her
temper and tongue.
The latter the Apostle James tells us
‘‘is a little member and boosteth great
tilings.” She is not hasty therefore, in be
lieving. and circulating reports.
“ When scandal is busy, ami the fame of
her neighbor is tossed from tongue to
tongue, if charity and good nature open
not her mouth, the finger ot silence resteth
upon her lips.” Another characteristic of
a lady is to nave “polished manners;” by
this term we mean not only the rules of
etiquette, hut also, those that are exercised
by every one who is truly a Christian.
The foundation of good manners lies in
Christianity itself.
Hence, the woman who governs herself
according to the precepts of the Bible, ami
shows in her daily life those “fruits of tho
Spirit which St. Paul so carefully enumer
ates, is to all intents and purposes the true
lady.
For society, as well as Christianity, re
quires " love, ioy, peace, long-suffering,
gentleness, goodness,” and things that are
lovely.
If self he put out of sight, and kindness,
courtesy, ami thought for others take its
place, a very slight training in mere eti
quette is alf that is required to make a
genuine lady.
I.emon* Cure lor <oiiiiiii|>tlou
Nunhua Telegraph.
A correspondent of an Knglish medical
journal furnishes the following as a new
cure for consumption : Put a dozen lemons
in cold water and boil until soft (not too
soft,) roll and squeeze until the juice is
all extracted, sweeten the juice enough to
be palatable, then drink. Use as many as
a dozen a day. Should they cause pain or
looseness of the bowels, lessen the quantity
and use five or six a day until better, then
begin and use a dozen again. By the time
you have used five or six dozen you will
begin to gain strength and have an appetite.
Of course as you get better you need not
use so many. Follow these directions,
and we know you will never regret it if
there is any help for you. Only keep it up
faithfully. We know of two cases where
both the patients were given up by the phy
sicians. and were in the last stages of con
sumption, yet both were cured by using
lemons according to the directions we have
stated. One lady in particular was bed
ridden and very low; had tried everything
that money would procure, but all in vain
when, to please a friend, she was finally
persuaded to use the lemons. She begun
to use them in February, and in April she
weighed 140 pounds, .‘she is a well woman
to-day, and is likely to live as long as any
of us.
Ftrclni; Barren Trees.
This can be done by pruning from tlio
25th of August to the loth or 20th of Sep
tember. While 1 don’t know as I can give
a scientific reason for it, yet I know, by
actual experience, that it will have the
desired effect if properly done. If the tree
is very vigorous, root pruning may be nec
essary. The reason I assign for pruning
at that time is that the fruit-buds are form
ed at that season, and if the flow of sap b 6
turned from the wood it will go to maturo
the fruit-bud.