Newspaper Page Text
Grasses
Decoration.
• *
Fine grasses are seldom found upon
dry soil, but in meadows and un-
wooded swales tbe seeker will find
them in infinite variety.
Other desirable water-loving plants,
much prettier for drying than the
fashionable cat-tail, also abound in
such localities. Some of the daintiest
ornaments of ladies’ bonnets are culled
from th»se neglected wastes. As taste
will be the guide in selection, it is not
necessary to particul <rize varieties.
For the time of gathering it is im
possible to give dates, but grasses and
their kindred should be cut while in
the bud, a short time before the blos
som opens—if later, they are apt to
“ fuzz ”or rattle off.
For treatment, cut the stalks of the
desired length and clean off blades or
leaves. Place the heads together and
tie in bunches of a size that will dry
readily. Hang in the shade till dry.
Wheat, oats, barley and rye are also
beautiful. I believe they should be
cut while in the white stage of devel
opment, which comes between the
green and yellow. Experience has
shown me that they work well at this
age, at least. Treatment the same as
for grasses.
The one defect of all dried grasses is
their loss of color. In a measure
grains also have this fault. Some
water-plants, like cat-tail, dry to a
rich golden brown, but dried grasses
have a dingy, washed out appearance,
which can only be remedied by dyeing
or bleaching. They are dyed by
florists in all brilliant colors, but re
Sued taste seems to dictate that the
original bronze, gold or green be re
stored. The process is simple and per
formed with aniline dyes, which are
for sale in various forms. Leaiuau’s
liquid dyes are highly recommended
and easily used. Full directions come
with each bottle, and where they are
sold a pamphlet giving further partic
ulars will be furnished at request. For
those who do not possess the skill of
fl >rist» in shaping by steaming and
manipulation, it is well to place the
grasses or oats in an upright or lean
ing position while drying after dyeing
to avoid the stiff look of a perfectly
erect stalk. Indeed if the grasses are
not to be dyed, it is well to dry them
in some such position at first.
For arrangement there are few pret
tier things than the little grass or
grain trimmed baskets, called baskets,
though they are in the form of any
th ng else as well. Designs for every
thing of this kind, both trimmed and
untrimmed, may be readily found. If
the baskets cannot be obtained, deli
cate willow baskets, willow ware, toys,
such as chairs, cradles, etc., may be
utilized for the purpose.
the cuts a pile of wood or brush is
made at the foot of the tree and the
tree is chopped down, the branches
keeping one end of the tree off the
ground, and the piles of wood at the
foot of the tree doing the same for the
other end. Thus the trunk is sus
pended. The hunter, after carefully
placing large leaves on the ground un
der the tree proceeds to cut gashes in
the hark of the tree throughout its
whole length. The bark is collected
from the tree and from the leaves
placed under it, and added to the milk
first collected. The sap, when it first
exudes from the tree, is as white as
milK and almost as thick as cream ;
but it soon turns black on exposure to
air and light if not properly watched
and cared for. The quantity of milk
which is put into one hole depends
not only on the size of the trees and
their distance apart, but also on the
strength of the mao who is to carry
the rubber from the camp to the river,
and the track and trail he must carry
it over. As soon as a hole has all the
milk a hunter intends to put into it
he coagulates the rubbsr by adding
some substance, such as the root of
“mechoaeab,” by hard soap, etc., and
these substances cause the milk to co
agulate so fast as to prevent the escape
of the water which is always present
in the fresh s^p; and as the rubber and
water will not mix, a piece of rubber
coagulated this way is full of small
cells cpntaiuiug water. Of course, a
piece of rubber full of holes is not as
valuable as a piece of homogeneous
rubber. For this reason Carthagena
rubber is worth less than Para rubber.
I have seen the rubber of this country
made perfectly homogeneous, clear
and transparent as amber. It costs no
more to make such lubber than to
make it full of holes, water aud dirt.
It also costs no more to “pack” one
pound of such rubber put of the woods
than to pack one-half pound of porous
rubber, with its half-pound of water
and dirt.
As soon as all the rubber-trees are
cut down and the rubber coagulated,
ihe pieces are strapped on the backs of
the hunters by thongs of bark, carried
by them out to the bank of the river,
aud brought to market by canoe or
raft. The value of the rubber export
ed for the year ending December 31st,
1880, was 1335,113,- au increase over
the previous year, due to the fact of
the recent high price of the product.
Of this amount the United Soates
bought to the value of $238,393.
Georgia Snakes.
India-Rubber Production.
Mr. W. P. Smith, U. S. Consul at
Carthagena, Columbia, in his report
on the commercial relati >ns of the
country^) the United States has an
interesting account of the production
of India rubber. He says the rubber
hunters have been in the habit of cut
ting down the trees instead of tapping
them, and there is great danger of ex
terminating them unless they are cul
tivated. He says:
The trees which yield the larger
supply of r lbber flourish along the
banks of the Sinu aud Aslato rivers.
Tbe rubber hun'ers before entering the
woods provide themselves with guns,
ammunition, flour, salt, ^nd tobacco
The flour is made from plantains,
whioh are cut into slices, dried and
ground, aud is generally mixed with
corn meal. This flour will keep sweet
for months even in this climate. For
meat the hunters depend upon the
game they can kill. A roof of palm
trees is quickly ma le, and every man
starts out with his guu and machete
each one in a different direction and
alone, hunting for rubber and game.
As soon as or.e finds a rubber tree he
dears a space arouud the trunk, cut
ting away all vines, underbrush, etc.
and marches on again in search of
more rubber trees, not returning to
camp until night. According to the
immemorial custom a tree belongs to
him who has cut around ic. Tbe bunt
is continued until all the trees in tbe
vicinity of the camp are thus secured.
Then begins tbe work of gathering
the rubber. A hole is dug in the
ground near the rubber-tree, unless
some other party is encamped near, in
which case the holes are dug near the
camp. The bark ot the tree is first
hacked with a machete as high as a
man can reach, the cuts beiug made
in the form of a V, and the milk (sap)
collected as it exudes, and put into the
hole that has been dug for It.
After the milk ceases to flow irom
We were sitting on the poi-tottlce
steps at Ringgold, Ga., when Judge
Hallam winked me arouud the corner
and whispered :
“ The old chap on the cracker-box is
Colouel Slasher, the biggest liar in the
state of Georgia. A«k him for a snake
story.”
I slid back, looking innocent and
unconcerned, aud at the first oppor
tunity I inquired:
“ Colonel, are there any moccasin
snakes in this rtate?”
“ Billions of ’em,” he replied.
“ Any very big ones ?”
“ Well, I re kou ! Yum 1 Don’t talk
to me about big snakes !”
“ Colonel, bow long a snake did you
ever see ? ’
He rolled his quid over and over
and got both hands over his left knee
before replying: “I’m afraid you
wouldn’t believe me.”
" Yes, I—that is—yes, I would !”
“ You know that snakes grow
mighty fast down here?”
“ Of course.”
“ And that our swamps offer them a
secure retreat?”
“Certainly.”
“ I wouldn’t have you doubt my
word,” he remarked, after a pause, as
ho squiuted his left eye at a spotted
dog across he street.
“How could I, colonel?”
He rose up slowly, stepped down
over the sand and paced off about
forty feet, goiug over the ground twice
and counting his steps. "When he had
returned md taken his seat, 1 asked :
“ Do you mean to tell me, colonel,
that you have seen a snake forty feet
long?”
“Oh, no, no!” he quickly replied.
“ I was simply pacing off to see if
there was room to plant six hitching
posts in there. The longest snake I
ever saw measured exactly ten inches
by the ru e, and he had been dead
th;ee days, to boot!”
Orange I isects.
When a dish cf oranges is seen on
the table for dessert, th« fact is hardly
realized that in all probability their
surface as the habitat of an insect of
the Coccus family. This tiny creature
is found on the orange skin in every
stage of transformation, from the egg
to the perfect iusect, during the win
ter months, instead of remaining dor
mant in the cold weather, as is the
case with most of the iusect tribe. It
would haidly be possible to find a Sr.
Michael’s or Tangerine orange that
had not hundreds of these little crea
tures in various stages of development
on its surface. Lemons, too, are fre-
Rossini's Home Life.
the skin of an orange will be found
to be dotted over with brownish scar
let spots of various sizfs. These specks
cau be easily removed by a needle;
and when under a microscope, an in
teresting scene is presented, consisting
of a large number of eggs, which are
oval white bodies, standing on end,
like little bags of flour, some of tbe in
habitants of which may very probably
be seen in process of emerging from
the opened end of the egg. The fe
male insect upon leaving the egg has
six legs, two long hair-like appendages
and no win s; it thrusts a sucker into
the orange in order to obtain nourish
ment and never moves again, passing
through the various stages of develop
ment until it lays its eggs and dies.
In the case of the male insect, the
chrjsalis after a short period opens
and the iusect flies off. Tbe male is
supplied with wings t a ice the length
of its body, and each of tne legs has a
hook-like pr< j-ollon. It has tour ejes
and two anteume, and is so tiny that
itcannot be seen when flying.
From some parts of Spain orange i
come to us having their rind covered
with a coccus of quite a different type,
The surface of oranges, iudeed, ai-
fords the possessor of a microscope au
infinite amount of interest and
amusement.
From the anteroom you entered the
dining-room, a moderately sized ob
long table to seat fourteen people fil
ling it nearly wholly. To the right of
it was the drawing-room where on
Saturday nights the famous soirees
were given, which brought together
celebrities ot every class or section of
politics, art, science or financial pcsi-
tion ; at the left was his studio, in fact
his he lroom—a square little place,con
taining a bed, a writing-table, a Pleyel
pianino and a wardrobe full of perish
able linen and his imperishable man
uscripts. On the little table in his
bedroom he wrote them—on the big
diui^g room table the copyist copied
them, because he never allowed a man
uscript to go out of his house. It is
certainly incredible that he should
have written the “Barber of Seville”
in fifteen d*ys, not that there can be
the slightest doubt about the sponta
neity of the melodies streaming quicker
into his pen than out of it, but pre
cisely because, *1 hough writing very
fast, he had a way of rounding the
head of the notes, which took time,
quently covered. Upon inspeciion, 4and writing a whole operatic scene in
We see by the S in Antonio papers
that the butchers have raised a Club.
If their tenderloin stakes are as tough
as they us* d to be they might use the
Club to advantage on them.
a fortnight does not allow of many
wasted minutes. Yet another instance
of quick slow writing was Alexandre
Dumas (1 mean the father). He wrote
his novels ou long half sheets, and he
was beside himself with happiness
when i brought him some large Eng
lish blottiug paper, in sheets bigger
than bis own writing paper, which he
had only to turn over to dry it atouce.
He wrote a wonderfully handsome
hand, very long letters and seemingly
slowly, as if painting, yet one leaf was
covered after another in next to no
time. Donizetti wrote quickly, to
such au extent that when I saw him
write lor the first time, I did not
think he was writing music. He had
a knack of covering the pages with
dots like a telegiaph strip, and when
he had done so he added the tails aud
lines. Rossini used to set to work at
10 o'clock in the morning, having got
up at nine. His toilette took half au
hour, his breakfast, house gossip, etc.,
another half-hour, then he took his
peu and wrote continuoui-ly. From
ten to twelve, while he wrote, num
bers of people came : some with letters
of introduction, or old friends, and so
on. H* was very glad to make the ac
quaintance of talented young arthts,
he received them with immense kind
ness, giving them advice, and some-
tiiues letleis. But wh it he absolutely
lifted whh to be stared at as one of the
sights or Pai is. Once his old friend
Carsfl'i came and told him : t‘There is
a Russian princess on tbe boulevard
who waited two hours yesterday to see
you pass: she wants so much to
make your acquaintance; what
shall I tell her?” “Tell her,” said
R »ssini, “that 7 am excessively fond
of asparagus. Rhe need only go to
Polel et Chabot and buy tbe finest
bunch she can get and bring it hete.
[ shall then get up, and after she has
well inspected me in front, I shall
turn round and she can complete her
inspection by taking in the other view
too, and then she may go.” He was
ra'.her fond, not only of asparagus, but
of anything good to eat, and whenever
he was sent some delicacy in that line,
he enjoyed it in advance by unpack
ing it himself, aud then he used to say
with delighted looks : “Voila a quoi
la glolre est bonne.” His visitors gone
or not gone at twelve, he put on his
wig, which until then lay quietly on
the taule, his big bald head being cov
ered with a towel tor the time being,
then he uressed, and by one o’clock
every day he was out: he took the
first cab he met aud asked him : “Est-
ce que vost chevaux font fatigues?”
(“Are your horses tired ?”) When the
unfortunate driver said : “Non, Mon
sieur,” he never took him : he would
never trust himself to oi.her but tired
horses, aud during all his life never
had he entered a railway carriage.
Then he usually drove to the Palais
Royal, in the latter days to the Pas
sage de l’Opera, aud walked up an i
down in the shaded galleries, meeting
a number of friends and hearing with
great interest all the newest gossip
about singers, composers and operatic
chat in general. I remember particu
larly two instances when I was with
him, having met great composers, and
every time he said something worth
noting
Onceit wasGounod whohadjustgiv-
en “Faust,” aud Rossini stopped him
to say he had heard of the great success
the opera had met with. “O maestro,”
said Gouuod, “I am so happy to hear
you speak of the success of the opera,
because all the people speak to me
only just of the Soldiers’ Chorus.”
‘Never mind,” said Rossini, “operas
are not born like men, head first, the
success of operas is born the feet first;
that Soldiers’ Chorus is what the peo
ple understood at once, the rest-will
come in t me. I have often gone
through the experience.” Gounod
was barely gone when I saw a rather
little man with very pronounced Jew
ish features, common-looking, the
shabbiest possible hat covering an evi-
d ntly clever head. It was Meyerbeer;
he steered with outstretched arms
straight towards Rossini, whom he
always approached with an humble
mock modesty and deference, as if he
held him by far the greater genius,
and especially as if this oe r erence was
due to the older man. Louis Blanc
told me once that he was so struck
when first set ing Meyerbeer with that
particularly vulgar expression of Ins
face. I cau not say that I found it so.
A Jewish and a cunning expression I
found predominant. Rossini had for
Meyerbeer a sincere friendship .and
admiration, and I give here the most
peremptory denial to all the invented
stories of his envy or jealousy, etc. I
was with Rossini when be went to the
Rue Richepause, where Meyerbeer
lived, and where every day during
his illness Rossini inquired how he
was : and where, one day, the con
cierge, with the brutality of common
French people, answered Rossini’s in
quiry, “M. Meyerbeer? Mais il est
mort, quoi ?” Rossini fell back faint
ing, audit was only when Meyerbeer’s
daughter arrived, and he had cried
like a child with her for half an ho lr,
that he recovered himself and I took
him home.
He could not resist occasion illy say
ing a little witty word for fun’s sake,
but he never intentionally hurt auy
body. I will not deny, however, that
I know of a rather bitter thing which
he said to the Abbe Liszt, who came
to see|iim in his little room aud who
improvised rather madly on the small
Pleyel piano. When he had done
Rossini said : “J'aime mieux l’autre.”
“L’autre?” asked Liszt, stupefied.
“Yes, Hayden’s Chaos,” said R >ssiui,
“is it not Chaos you meant to repre
sent ?” Liszt, excessively sensitive,
was fearfully offended.
Agricultural.
Marketing Farm Products.
Whatever may be said against oleo
margarine, truthfully or otherwise, it
is ah undeniable fact that since it has
been put upon the market, butter has
presented itself in better garb, sweeter,
sounder, cleaner, and in every way
more worthy of being recognized as a
prime product of the American dairy.
Mr. S'arr, ol Eijho Farm, was one of
the first to get a dollar a pound for
the delicious butter sent to New York,
Boston and other cities. This came to
market in neat half-pound packages
wrapped in snow-white linen, and was
as fragrant and sweet as the June
grasses upon which the cows are fed.
If there is a paradise for cows on
earth Echo Farm is one, and a worthy
model, creditable to the heart of a hu
mane farmer.
Now, we have many dairies sending
sweet, waxy, golden a id aromatic but
ter to the market, perfectly gratifying
the most fastidious taste of our citizens.
These dairies and these products honor
such names as Havemeyer, Coe, Cro-
zier, Holly, Dinsmore, Park, Valen
tine, and scores of others.
The great Western btates are wor
thy competitors in gilt-edgrd butter.
Cheese, eggs, poultry and fruits, put
up in a neat manner, are always ac
ceptable to the purchaser, and bring
remunerative prices to the producer.
In Baltimore aud Philadelphia, for
marry years, poultry came to market
nicely drawn, fresh, sweet and ready
for the cook ; and now, in New York
and Boston, tne hotel-keepers demand
drawn poultry. They are posted in
su.'h matters, for they cater to the
most extravagant tastes; and a man
who knows how to keep a first-class
hotel knows what human provender
should be.
Compare our first-class retail gro
ceries now with what they were
twenty years ago. The demands of
consumers require goods neatly put
up, the stores to be kept clean, and
the clerks aproned in immaculate
white. In fact, some of the spruce
clerks now wax their mustaches, a la
Napoleon III., to please the ladies.
The neat and tasty marketing of
farm products pays a handsome profit,
on all the extra taste and labor be
stowed upon them.
Our best merchants understand the
art of displaying their goods and the
profit it brings. A visit to Thurber’a
will convince the most sceptical. In
this house, where twenty millions are
annually sold, the goods are put up in
the best possible style. Even the
canned goods are radiant with colors
and ridh in gilt.
The packages of coffee, tea and
spices are clothed with beautiful pic
tures of the Oriental shrubs that pro
duced them. Thuiber’s labels are ex
quisite specimens of taste and art.
“Straws tell which way the wind
blows.”
Let farmers’ wives and daughters
tastefully decorate the packages of
farm products and they can afford to
dress in silk.—American Dairyman.
Effects of Cold on Exotic Birds.
‘ Fellow-citizens,” said a street-cor
ner orator, standing on a dry goods
box amid the glare aud smoke of
many torches, “my position upon this
question is a peculiar one.” And
just then, when the box caved in and
let him down in the shape of a letter
V, gripped by the neck and heels, the
crowd rather thought it was.
An artist paiuted a cannon so nat
urally that when he win fiuishing the
touch-hole It weut ofl—at a very good
price.
Some observations of the effects of
cold on birds in tbe valley of the Marne
during the winter of 1879-’80 have
been lately published by M. Leseuyer
and M. Mllne-Euwards, it seems
that exotic birds, such as peacocks,
silver and golden pheasants, suffered
little from cold, though they had little
shelter, some perchiug at night on.x
trees or on the iron bars of inclosuree.
On the other hand, fowls in well-shel
tered inclosures died in great numbers.
A still more singular fact is the resis
tance of Australian cockatoos to cold.
Several of these birds remained from
October to M irch in the open air in a,
large cage, which is occupied in sum
mer by monkeys; there was no shel
ter, except a building on tbe north
side, yet all the birds bad continued
gtod health. Their feet were often on
iron bars, the temperature of which
was so low that water froas immedi
ately when poured on the metal. The
black swans of Australia aud the cos-
coroba of South America did not suf
fer, and in spring they set about
constructing their nests; though
frequently in the winter mornings the
keepers had to detach them from the
ground to which their feathers had
been frozen. The cassowaries of
Australia wereofteu, during the night,
entirely covered with snow; but in
the morning they shook their wings
aud seemed none the wopne. In a
word, the cold was more hurtful to
mauy^udigenous birds ihan to species
imported from hot climates but of
more robust constitution.
V