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tiie mercury. »-Ttai!»SSK 8an - gudenrllle, W««li!»*ton Cnitj, ««. rDBUsnaD bt JEBNIGAN & SCARBOROUGH. .91.60 p« Tear. BaheripUon. J, W.^hTWHITAKER dentist, Sanderiville, Ga. Terms Cash. Office Rt bin roaidenoe on llarria Street. April 3,_1830. B. D. EVANS, Attorney at Law, April 3, 1880. Sanderiville, Oa. DR. WM. RAWLINGS, Physician & Surgeon, Sanderiville, Ga. Ofllco at Sandonville Hotel. April 10, 1880. eTa. SULLIVAN, NOTARY PUBLIC, Sanderiville, Ga. ' Special attention givon to oolleotion ol Office in the Court-Houie. 0. H. ROGERS, Attorney at Law, Sandonville, Ga, Prompt attontion given to all business, Ofllco in northwest room ot Court-Houie. May ♦, 1880. C. C. BROWN, Attorney at Law, Sandonville, Ga. Will practice in the State and United State* Oourti. Offloe in Conrt-IIouse. H. N. H0LLIFIELD, Physician & Surgeon, Sandonville, Ga. Offloe next door to Mn. Hajrne’i milliner, iton on Hanli Street, DR. J. B. ROBERTS, Physician & Surgeon, SaadenvUle, Ga. May be eonanlted at hie offloe on Haym a ■treat, in the Maaonio Lorige building, trom 9 am to 1 pm, and iron S to 6 p m; during other hours at hie roaidenoe, on Ohunb atreet, when not pictoaaionally engaged. Aprils 1880. Watches, Clocks ABD JEWELRY UTAIBID It JERNIGAN. POSTOFFICE HOURS. 7:00 to 11:30 a. m, 1:30 to 6:00 p. m. E. A. Sdllivaw, P. U. Subscribe for the MERCURY, Only gl.fiO per annum. rUBIJSUED BT JERNIGAN & SCARBOROUGH. BUY YOUR Spectacles, Spectacles, FROM JERNIGAN. 19-None genuine without our Tnde Mark. On band and for sale, Mes.Mi Music. :, Etc. Music. GO TO JERNIGAN FOB W0LINS, ACCORDEONS, BOWS, STRINGS, —boxes, etc. Machine Needles, OIL and SHUTTLES ° r rf* n ^ Machines, for sale. I will order parts ot Machines that get oroko, and new pieces are wanted. A. J. JERNIGAN. the merctr y. a. J. JERNIGAN, Plorunron VOL. I. Mother’s Way. Olt within our little cottage, Ai the shadows gently (all, While the sunlight touches s’ollly One sweet voice upon tho wall. Do we gather close together, And in hashed and tender tone, Ask raoh other’s lull forgiveness For the wi ong that each has done. Should you wonder why this custom At the ending ol eaoh day, Eye and voico would quickly answer, " It was once ou r mother's way! ” II our home bo bright and cheery, II it hold a welcome true, Opening wide it* door ol greeting To tho many-not the few; It wo share 1 our Father’s bounty With the needy, day by day, ’1 is becauso our hearts remember This was ever mother's way. 8ometimci whon our hearts grow weary, Or our task seems very long, Whon our burdens look loo hoavy, And wodoem the right all wrong, lhon wo gain anew fresh courage, As wo rise and proudly say, “ Lot us do our duty hravoly— This wai our dear molher’i way.” Thus wo keep her memory precious, While we never cease to pray That at lost, when longth’ning shadows Mark tho overling ol life’* day, They may find us waiting calmly To go homo our mother's way. DEVOTED TO LITERATURE, AGRICULTURE AND GENERAL INTELLIGENCE. • 1.60 PER ANNUV- HOW I BECAME THE FASHION, r “J» not BO generally known as Becon , Uld be: A watch fitted with a second 1 mnd nee< I not necessarily be a agree Watcb - Doctors generally Steam i„ )0Ut bleed * n & their patients. ud its n a . servant that sometimes blows j 9 . a8ter - An ungrammatical judge Anv fn i° PaSS an incorroc t sentence. "it’ a hard to a mako k<i " talk ’ bUt SANDERSVILLE, GA., NOVEMBER 9, 1880. NO. 32. thn k , one in ho bush 18 worth two i in the hand. AN ENGLISH STOUT. I was born a beauty; from the time I could talk nnd understand, it was in stilled into mo as a fact. When I Icould toddlo about, some judicious person, probnbly a nurse, gave mo the name of “ Beauty,” nnd it stuck to me ever after. I don’t think I was inordinately proud of my distinction, nlthough even in childhood it makes a difference, but it seems to me na I look bnck that my at tractions wen rnndo use of by my brothers and sisters for their own benefit. They wero always sending me to beg a holiday on tfle plea that “ Papa won’t reluse Beuuly,” or later on to get leave to go to tills or that place of amuse ment, for “ Mammajis sure to let Beauty have her way.” It’s a wonder I wasn't quite spoiled, but I don’t think 1 was; at least no such accusation was ever made, even when sisterly civilities were being inter changed. We were a largo family principally girls, all presentable except tnj eldest sister, Matilda; she lmd no looks to speak about, but site made it up by a superabundance of bruins—she was the family headpiece, a sert of plateau to bo relied upon on all state occasions. She eertninly was a remark able woman; her one idea was to push one’s seif fownrd In life. How angry she was when I married Charley! She was at Gibraltar settling my brother Edmund iu his appointment, and I was Mrs. Kedear before she came back. Charley was a captain with good prospects of getting on, but Matilda made him sell out nnd put his money into a new company started to provide Venice with tram cars; after that we came up to town, because Matilda said that witli my beauty and Charley’s con nections London was tho place for us. We were sure to push cur way; but curiously enough, we didn’t. Charley’s connections belonged to tho Plymouth Brothers and Sisters, and my good looks were quite thrown away on people who wore poke bonnets. There was one old man, a grand-uncle of Charley’s, who had live 1 in the regency days, and said I was the image of Dolly Bloom field, whoever she might be. A year or so passed very quietly, and then Matilda came up to see how we were getting on. She was very indig nant when she found that we had made no way, and scolded us roundly for our supineness. I have no pntience with either of you,” she said. With Beauty’s looks and the Rcdcar connection you ought to be at the very top of the tree.” And then we explained to her about the Plymouth Brethren. •‘But there’s Charley’s godfathers wife; she has nothing to say to trade or meeting-houses, because I see her parties every week in the Morning Post, said my sister with a look which meant: ‘You can’t impose on me; if Beauty wero only seen there she’d soon push her way.’ 3 r , , , . Charley looked at me and I looked at Charley, and then we both burst out laughing. It was a mortifying confes sion, but the truth was we had been at Charley’s wife’s godmother’s—no, I mean Charley’s godfather’s wife-more than once, and nothing lmd come of my ‘ being seen tin re ” s but the bills we had > pay for the dres I wore and the car- n Matilda looked very glum when we told her this. ‘‘I don’t see whatjou are laughing at,” she said, cross y. one hula tool would find amusement n their own failure.” This « v severe, but Matilda was awfully put out, and in the evening, when .Char ey had gone to the “Rag” to have his smoke, she spoke very senously to me. “ I don’t like the look of l ungs, sue said. “ I shouldn’t be at all surprised i f those Venetian tram shares don t co to much. The people there are o silly, they prefer the’gondolas, and if tl JR down where will JfU be? ht “ Good fgracious! Matilda, I P you recommended them, and said they would double our income. •‘And haven’t they done sc. you silly thin"? All you have to do is to p our ‘shoulder to the whsel.aud put Charley, and that will make it all right. As for him, lie is a regular slick in the mud. So you must do it yourself "IP Why what in the world can I doP” “ Make yourself tlfe fashion 1" said my sister, oracularly. The next day Matilda, Charley, and I went to see t he pictures at the R. A. It’s a long way fron Inverness Tcrrnce to Piccadilly, particularly on a hot day, so we went In an omnibus. I don’t mind an omnibus, but Matilda thinks it’s a disgrace to be seen In one. She has a provincial idea that every one knows her. She sits far back with her veil drawn in a tight little ball over her nose, which makes her ever so much more remarkable. This day in particu lar she was in a great fright nnd was very indignant with Charley and me, who were laughing at the faces she mndc. When she got out she said: “To think that our Beauty should bo brought down to sit with washerwomen in an omnibus 1" Chniley flushed up. He’s tho most good-humored lellow in the world, but he doesn’t liko Matilda. “8he should drive in a-coach with six horses, if I could give it to her,” he said; “ but she knew I was a poor man when she took me." ‘‘And liked you all the better ” cried I, gayly, as I pressed bis arm affectionate ly; but Matilda only snorted. I heard her mutter: ‘‘A pair of fools I” The Academy was very full that day, nnd I thought it a great bore. Neither Charley nor I care much lor pictures, but Matilda says sho understands “color." She goes round religiously with her catalogue and pencil nnd marks the good ones. She leaves it on the drnwing-room tnblo when she goes home, and holds forth to tho country people upon the “ flesh tints ’’ of Millais, and the “deep impasto” of Burnc Jones. 1 soon got tired, so I sat down no r the passage leading to thn refreshment room. I always think the lunch is about the best tiling at the pictures. 'But they seemed never to bo coming. For some time 1 amused myself looking at the people; they were a shifting mass ol (aces and dresses, nnd I was greatly diverted. By-and-byc I began to observe that the erowd when they came to n certain picture stood there, forming a regular line, as they did for Miss Thompson. It was awfully hot, and I lmd taken off my veil and pushed up my hat, for my forehead was burning. Sud denly I noticed that a great many people turned their backs upon the picture, and looked at me, and then faced round again to tho canvas wall. In my character of Beauty I have been all my life pretty well accustomed to the sort of homage conveyed by what is called “bard staring,” so that it must have been an undue nuiount of it which at tracted my attention; but surely I bad never seen any like this. Groups of two, three, six at a lime would stand before me, calmly surveying me, and, I could gather by their gestures, talking of mo. But I didn’t bear what they said. I be came very anxious to see the pic. ture which attracted such attention, but tho block round it was too great. The next best thing was to ask lor in formation. It was some timo before I could pitch upon a person tilting for this purpose. At Inst a very quiet-looking lady came near me. She had a catalogue in her hand. I addressed her. “ May I ask you to tell me the name of tho pic- iuru at which every one is looking?" She turned to tho book, but first glanced at me; then hurried on, and I saw her a few minutes afterward pointing me out to some of her friends. I felt I'xtremeiy uncomfortable. I looked about anx iously lor Charley and Matilda, but thero was no sign of either. Then, I did a very foolish thing; I got up to go and lock for them, principally to escape from the numberless eyes fixed upon e. To my surprise the crowd made way at once, and, as I Iwalked, followed me, pressing very closely upon me, but not discourteously. I could hear some of the remarks, which were of the most flattering description. Just then I saw in the distance a brother officer ol Charley’s, a certain Captain Winton- lie was a hanger-011 and toady of the great, and a most conceited, tiresome little creature. I disliked him, although I’m bound tp say lie never absolutely cut us. He now stopped to speak to me; ol course, he was politely indifferent as to the loss of my party. “I would help you to look lor Charley,” he said; “but the fact is the Duchess ot Cranberry is here, and she’s quite on the qui vive. Some one has told her that the original of the picture is actu ally in the room, and, of course, it would be everything to secure her for the 20th, and—” Here I interrupted him rather rudely, but ho is such a bore. “I wonder,” I said—but here I was in my turn interrupted. Two gentle men on one side, two on the other, tapped Captain Winton on each shoul der. “Will you kindly introduce meP” said one. “ And meP” said the other. “ And meP" “And meP” Little Winton stared, but did as ho was bid. “Lord Snappington —Mrs. Redcar; Colonel Fotheringham—Mrs. Redear; Sir John De Tabley —Mrs. Redcar; Major Beaulieu—Mrs. Redcar. Beau lieu, Itliink you know Charley Redcar; lie was one of oursP” In right of this acquaintance, Major Beaulieu walked on my right hand; Lord Snappington fought hard to keep his placo on my left, but the crowd, which persistently followed in my wake, would not let him. Hardly any conver sation was possible. At the first con venient pause, little Winton darted for ward : "My dear Mrs. Redcar, how sly you have been! And Charley, too, never breathed a word of this! Now, you must come nt once to the 'duchess; I bavo her positive orders.” And, be fore I could take in what be meant, I was being introduced to a very large lady, with a high nose, and a most charming manner. “ I am so pleased to know you, Mrs. Redcar," she said. " I am obliged to hurry away; but you will come to me on the 20th, won’t youP I haven’t timo to say half the pretty things I ought; but really, without flattery, it isn’t equal I Thero, now, I’ll not say another word.' Stay; could you come to me this evening? It’s shockingly informal, but you don’t look formal. EhP WliatP"— in answer to a whisper from little Winton—“of course, Cap tain Redcar, by all means—that is, if bo will give me the pleasure. I have to run away—so sorry. My carriage, Captain Winton, if you please. Good bye.” And, with a pretty amiie and n bow, sho vanished. It was all so sudden I felt quite stunned. “ I don’t understand it," I Eaid. “ I don’t know her, or what she wants with mo." “That’s tho Duchess of Cranberry, Site’s a great friend of Masse’s, and her wonderful party is to be on tbe20tb.” “ But what does she want with rue?” I repeated. They all smiled, and Winton, who lmd just come back, said “Capital!" He volunteered to go and look for Char ley, and suggested to one of the gentle men to see about my carriage. "The Duchess is delighted,’* he said, “ and thanked me so much for the in troduction. No wonder, it makes the whole tiling complete. Didn’t I do well about CharlcyP It wouldn’t do at ah for him to he in the background. But, listen, I have a hint for your private car. I shouldn’t be at all surprised it a certain person is there this evening.” “ Whore P” “Oh! at the Duchess’s, of course. I just give you the hint. Throw over any engagement, do you hcarP And inind you bring Charley.” And with a grave face ho went. For a minute or two I felt inclined to cry. I had had no luncheon, and this extraordinary adventure puzzled me. [ looked round at my escort of four gentlemen. “ I should like to go home," I sp.id. Lord Snappington immediately of fered me his arm. Major Beaulieu brought my parasol—the other two ran for my carriage. “I haven’t any, in deed," I went on; “I think you take ino for some one else.” At this they all laughed, and Lord Snappington said would I honor him by making use of liisP He didn’t want it for the rest of the afternoon, if I liked to drive. He was so pressing that I really couldn’t refuse to go to Inver ness Terrace in it, although I hardly ex pected the wonderful footman to know where it was. I declare when I found myself in the carriage quite alone I rubbed my eyes and pinched my fingers. I could liardly help thinking that I had fallen asleep und had dreamt all this, but ju3t ns I was pinching myself hard I saw Charley and Matilda standing on the pavement in Piccadilly, looking very hot and un comfortable. I put my head out of tire window and called to the grand coach man to stop. The man looked at me very wickedly, but I didn’t care. I jumped out, and never felt more pleased than when I got hold of Charley’s arm and the fino car riage had driven away empty. Anything like the amazement of Charley and Matilda, when they heard my adventure, I never saw. They couldn't make head nor tail of it any more than myself; only one thing was clear to me, that I must get home and have something to eat. I was so laint with excitement and hunger. We all made up our minds that it was a mis take of some kind. We went carefully through the catalogue, but there was nothing there. Charley proposed run ning into Mrs. Smithers at No. 10 (she sets up to be artistic), but Matilda said no—not on any account—the thing was to keep our own counsel. Matilda was all for our going to the duchess's. She said it didn’t matter, mistake or no mis take. She had asked me to her house in my own proper person and under my own proper name, and there was no im position or forcing myself in on my side. Charley said the same, and added that at all events it would be fun—so we went. Charley burss out laughing in the carriage—he said his godfather’s wife would get a fit when she heard that we had been to Cranberry bouse. But I think he got nervous when we were actually inside. I know I felt ready to sink into the earth when we walked up the grand staircase through lines ot powdered footmen. It seemed to me so utterly absurd. The first person I saw was Lord Snappington near the door. He seemed like an old friend; and presently Colonel Beaulieu joined us. He seemed to know Charley very well, although Charley says they haven’t done more than nod these ten years; but he was very friendly, and asked us to drivejdown on his coach to the Orleans next day. I was very pleased, for Charley had been wishing to go and—so bad I. After a time little Winton came up in a great fuss, and said the duchess was asking for me, and that 1 was to go into ttie boudoir. I didn’t, of course, know where that was, but Lord Snappington gavo mo bis arm and said he would take me there. As wo walked along, I beard a great many people whispering together: “Thero she is, on Lord Snap- pington’s arm.” I was dying to know what it all meant, and I would have asked Lord Snappington then and there, only that Matilda’s last words had been: “ Mind you ask no questions. Just take everything as it comes." Still I think I would have said something, but just then we got into the boudoir, and there was the same lady I had seen in the morning, only looking much grander, nnd witli the most lovely diamonds on her head. She had about twonty other Indie sand gentlemen with her, and she was talking to a personage whom 1 recognized at once, nnd my knees knooked together with fright. “ Ohl hero is Mrs. Redcar!” cried tli? duchess; “ now we have her we shall all right." The certain Person put a glass to his eye nnd looked at mo: “ Fond of swinging, Mrs. RedoarP” much in the manner Charley would have said it, And then every one begnn to laugh. I laughed too, although I had no idea why. “ Do you swing much?" the Person- ago went on, still surveying mo through the glass earnestly, I hadn’t swung since I was a child, and I thought it a very odd question, but, before I had timo to answer, the duchess struck in. “ My swinging party comes off on tho 20th, and I have given dircolions to have a rose-colorod swing put up for Mrs. Redcar.” There was a general chorus of appro bation, and I really began to think I bad got among a set of lunatics. Just then some music began in tbo next room, nnd there wns a move toward it. The certain person lingered a moment. “Duchess! I shall certainly come to your swinging party on the 20th for tho pleasure of seeing Mrs. Redcnr i the rose-colorod swing.” He smiled p nsantly at mo os he spoke, did tbit Great Man, and strolled lazily out ol the boudoir. When I10 was goneevery one crowded round mo. I’m Sure I made twenty ac quaintances and bad twenty invitations in ns mauy minutes. Ail tho rest of the evening was one 'vhirl of plcasuro. Charley enjoyed it quite ns much ns I did, and we be lli agreed Hint after all good company it nicer than and quite ns cheap ns, any inhcr. t In the middle ot the night Charley awoke mo by another loud lit of laugh tor. “I can’t help it, Beauty,” he said, “ but I can’t get over godfather’s wife when she hears of our being on easy terms with the best in the land.” It was most surprising. There Jwas certainly no doubt on that point. The next morning wo had just done breakfast when, to our surprise, Char- ley’s godfather's wife drove up. Ma tilda iiad just time to give us a word ol caution when sho came in, all laces and ribbons, bangles and chains—so unlike tho duchess. She made straight at me. “Mv dear,” she said, and kissed me on both cheeks; “ how sly of you I” and then she kissed mo. Just then there came another knock at the door, and one of Charley’s uncles (a very great manufacturer, with works at the East End) wns announced. He wns a good man, and I liked iiim, but bis face was extra long this morning. Ho took Clmrlpy and me aside: “ Is this trueP” ho said, and ho thrust a copy of the Whitehall Review into my hand, pointing to this paragraph: “ I am glad to toll my readers that tho charming original of Monsieur Henri Masse’s famous picture of “ Love in a Swing” is among us. Sho is not a Frenchwoman, but English born and bred—Mrs. Redcar, wife- of Captain Charles Redcar, late of the Tenth regi ment; and wc may well be proud ol our lovely countrywoman. This puts an end to the countless stories which have been floating about since the pic ture 'appeared. It is to the Duchess of Cranberry (Monsieur Masse’s old friend) that wo owe this addition to the ranks of tbo Beauties. Mrs. Redcar appears under the duchess’s wing. She made her debut at the Cranberry house soiree lust night, and was hugely admiicd.” So much for ttio truth of report. After all, then, there was no harm in it, and although at first I didn’t like sail ing under false colors, still Matilda per suaded me it would he foolish to make a fuss; I had only to hold my tongue and let the fashionable world and the fashionable newspapers tell as many lies as they pleased. I did so. I became the fashion. After tho duchess’s swing ing party on the 20th of June, 1870, my position was assured. No one can be more fashionable than I am. Under Matilda’s directions I am trying hard to push Charley on. If l succeed I will toll you all about it.— Whitehall Review. THE MERCURY. A recently Imported walking dress is of dark amber-colored corded silk and embossed velvet of a shade to match. The first skirt is slashed and laced over inserted pulls of the velvet. The over dress hangs perfectly straight on the right side, and at tho left is laced across with cords and spikes of amber color flecked with geld. At the back is a drapery edged with velvet and facings of tho silk. The silk bodice opens over a long waistcoat of the embossed material ! brightened by Japanese buttons of gilt. I The long sleeves are finished with ri vers laced over puffs of the velvet, FARM, GARDEN AND HOUSEHOLD. To Keep Sactl Pare, We have the oft-repeated testimony of many farmers, who have tried tho ex periment, that changing tho locality ot seed increases productiveness of many kinds of crops. It is therefore reasonable (although the why and wherefore is not generally understood) that there is something in it, although, after all, I think that equally good if not better re sults may be obtained by n judicious system of selection, culture and rotation on different sections of tbo same farm. It Ib my opinion, corroborated by ex perience nnd observation, that a system of selecting seed and planting only the most perfect of its kind, would obviate all difficulty and complaint of poor crops and seed, arising from this source. For example, in planting potatoes plant none leas in size (and those whole) that, hen’s egg, and no overgrown tubers, and follow this with a regular rotation, not growing related orops on the same ground oftener than once in three to five years. 8elect the best, most perfect ker nels of wheat, sowing only such; also the best and most perfect ot all kinds of seeds, Inking pains to save from tho new representatives of the variety. In stead of deterioratidb, as we often henr, improvement in both quantity nnd qual ity will then result. I know fanners who, instead of pursuing such a course, sell the best because it brings a better price in the market, and then they go to others for seed, or plant such as is left of their own after tho best is disposed of, and then, complain that their crops de teriorate, whereas, had they pursued tho course indicated above, in a few years their orops as well as their purses would greatly improve.—IF. U. HTiife, in the Country Gentleman. Wuhtm Dulto. Professor Arnold says that butter gathered in the oburn always contains more or less buttermilk, which would soon spoil the butter if not removed. There aretwo ways of removing it—one is by kneading in water or brino, nnd tho other by kneading it without water. One is called washing, the other work ing. The former removes it much more rapidly than the latter. Tho flavor of tho butter which lias been washed is different from thnt which has not boon washed. Tho difference between washed S ad unwashed butter is analogous to le difference between clasifled sugar und unclarified. Tho former consists ot pure saccharine matter; tho latter ot sugar and some albuminous and flavor ing matters, which are contained in the juice of the cane minglod with it, which give affavorin addition 10 thntof sugar. Brown sugar, though less sweet. Las more flavor than clarified sugar. When unwashed, there is always a little but termilk and sugar adhering to the but ter that gives it a peculiar flavor, in ad dition to pure butter, hwchi many peo ple like when it is new. Wnsliing re move i all this foreign matter, and leaves only tho taste of tho butter, pure and simple. The assertion is often made, and many peoplo believe, that water washes out the flavor of tho butter; but it only elennsestho butter ol the buttermilk, sugar and milk acid which may adhere to it, just as clarify ing sugar removes from it the foreign matter which modifies its true flavor. The flavor of butter consists of fatty matter which do not combiuo with water, therefore cannot be washed by it. The effect of washing upon the keeping quality ot butter depends upon the purity of the water with which the washing is none. If ttie water contains no foreign matter that will affect the butter it will keep better for washing the buttermilk out than by kneading it out. lteclpes. Moonshineus.—Take tho whites o eggs and beat to a stiff froth,"sweetening it with one tablespoonful of powdered sugar, and flavoring it with orange flower water. Have a saucer of sweot- ened cream and drop a spoonful of the froth upon it. Very delicate jind palat able. Buns.—One cup of milk, one cup ol sugar, one cup c f yeast, flour to make a batter. Let it rise over night, then add one-half cup of melted butter, a cup ol sugar, flour to knead it, nnd let it rise again, then roll and cut into cakes, and let it rise again. Apple Snow.—Put twelve apples in cold water and set them over a slow Are; when soft drain them, take off the peelings, core them and put them in a deep dish; beat tbo whites of twelve- eggs to a .stiff froth, put half a pound of sugar in the apples, beat them light and then beat in tho white. Apple Shortcake.—Fill a square bread tin three-quarters full of sliced sour apples; make a thick batter of half a cupful of sour cream, half a cupful of buttermilk, one teaspoonfui of saleratus, a little salt and flour to make quite stiff —a little stiffer than cake. Turn this over the apples; bake forty minutes, and serve with sauce, or cream and sugar flavored with nutmeg. Iron for Fruit Trees. An exchange says that “ the scales which fly off from iron being worked at forges, iron trimmings, tilings or other ferruginous material, if worked into the soil about fruit trees, or the more minute particles spread thinly on the lawn, mixed with the earth or flower-beds or in pots, are most valuable. They are especially valuable to the peach and pear, and in fact supply necessary in gredients to the soil. For colored flowers they heighten the bloom and in crease the brilliancy of white or nearly white flowers of allj.the rose family. PUBLISHED EVERY TUESDAY. NOTICE. AU communications intended for this pspor must be aooompanicd with the lull name of tho writer, not neooemrily tor publi cation, but as a guarantee of good faith. We are in no way responsible for the views sr opinions of correspondents. American Uheese Business. From an article in Bradslreels, on the growth of tho cheese industry in the United States, the following extracts are made: The growing importance of the cheeee industries in the United States is attract ing much attention abroad, as well as in Ibis country, nnd some facts concerning its increase may prove both useful and interesting to our readers. It is only within a comparatively few years that the factory system has been adopted which has resulted in the building up of innumerable factories in all the cheene centers of tbo United States, and in the production, by every art of manufac ture which improved methods could bring about, of cheese of such uni formly rood quality ns to bo in con stantly increased demand by our for eign customers. In fact, ever since 1878 we have taken more pains to cater to tbe t wtes English consumers, nnd consequently our cbeeso has been improved in flavor, as well ns in firm ness nnd keeping qualities. The result Is that our exports of oheeso to Liver pool alone during the present fiscal year, it is estimated, will be about 130,000,- 0(10 pounds, against 23,220,000 pounds in 1865-0. Since tbe first of May the Eng lish market has been taking from New York every week from 26,000 to 190,000 box os of cheese, all of which have been consumed nt tbo ruling high prices. During tho past five years the cheese production of tho United States lias fully doubled, of which 41.0 per oent. wns exported last year, while only 3.9 per cent, of our butter was sent abroad. In July, 1879, the pi ioe of finest cheese In tho Now Y irk market was down to five oents per pound,while other grades ranged from three and a linlf to four cents. The consequence was that English manufacturers could not compete with us, and a large number wero driven out of the business, being obliged to sell their cows, etc., to meet their obligations. Up to about four years ago the trade of New York de pended upon the English cables for tbe ruling price, bnt since then the boards of trudo throughout this country have become so thoroughly organized that tho business now centers in Now York city, which makes the prico daily for tho whole world. The best cheese are made in June nnd September, the latter for winter stock. It may not be out of placo in this con nection to give tbe comparative slumber of milch cows in this country and the principal agricultural countries of Europe. Tlieso statistics are up to last December, and as late as any we know oi: In Germany 8,961 221 In France 5,jI3,765 In Great Britain and Ireland.. 3,788.766 In Sweden 1,356,676 In United States, nbout 13,000,000 Unnnry Bird and Mouse. In one of tbo editorial rooms of the Times live two canary birds, both bright fellows, who chirp and sing day in and day out. Some wcoks ago one of the birds, who is named “Tom,” qfruck up an acquaintance witli a bright-eyed itouse. Where tbe mouse’s nest may ba no one knows. Perhaps he lives under tbe carpet or among the books in He same room. Anyhow he gets his living through Tom’s kindness. Ttie mouse visit’s Tom’s cage every day, and as soon as Tom sees him I10 begins to chirp in a peculiar way. In fact, it docs seem that Tom is talking to the mouse. Tom al lows his visitor to climb into the seed cup and eat all tiie seed lie wants. Canary seed uro^ just what mice like, of course, and Tom’s mouse gets his breakfast, dinner and supper, with a half dozen lunches thrown in, at Tom’ oup every day. The mouse also gets water in tho cage, and very often spends an hour or so playing in tho bottom o the cage. It is amusing to hear the bird scold tho mouse whenever the visitor ats too much. Tom seems to say: “ You outrht to be ashamed, mousey; if you don’t mind you’ll be a regular glut ton after awhile.” For some reason tbe other canary doesn’t’ like tho mouse and refuses to make friends with him. —Philadelphia Times. A Strange Rock. Miners are not in the habit of throw ing up good contracts lot nothing nowa days, but tbo Adamite, in Salt creek, is idle at present and will be for some time to come unless some of our rock sharps give a solution to a geological phenome non which still puzzles the miners of that section. In driving the tunnel which is now over one hundred feet, a strange formation was encountered. At every stroke ot the picks the tunnel was tilled with a luminous vapor, and tho weird light made tiie blood chill in the veins ot the superstitious miners. It is needless to say that the contractors dropped their tools and left, nnd the owners could not induce them to re sume their work. They call the rock “hell-fire rock’’and give the tunnel a wide berth. Some of the rock is being analyzed. It is probably phosp'.ioretio ock.—Salt Lake Tribune. The values of the main crops of the United States are as follows: Corn, ^525,000,000, beef, $270,000,000, wheat, $410,000.000, cotton, $270,000,000, rye, $15,000,000, oats, $150,000,000, barley, $25,000,007, buckwheat, $9,000,000, hay, $300,000,000 and pork, $250,000,000. San Francisco people have a prejudice against cooking oysters, because they say that cooking makes them indigesti ble. But they go right along cooking cabbages, sausages, mince pies and min ing reports,—New York Herald.