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the mercury. .. iroond-nlM* mutter »t the Ban- ^^WnTraitoffloe, April 27,1880. surf<mUJe , yfuhlwrum Canty, G* mum it JERNIGAN A SCAR10R0UBH. the mercury. A. J. JERNIGAN, Proprietor fl.Nf«r«r. DEVOTED TO LITERATURE, AGRICULTURE AND GENERAL INTELUGENCB. •1.80 PER ANNUM VOL. I. SANDERSVILLE, GA., FEBRUARY 22, 1881. NO. 47. WHITAKER. THE MERCURY. PUBLISHED EVERY TUESDAY. NOTICE. U \u oomnunictiona tatudid lor tUa paper meat be eooompenlcd with the fall name of the writer, not neoessaHly lot pobto tetion, bat ee e fpwrentee of good ieith. We ere in no wey responsible for the view* •r spimiooj of correspondents. dentist, Sendemflle, Oe. TERMS Cabu. Offloe »t bl- residence on Harris April 8, 18S0. B. D. EVANS, Attorney atLaw, Aprils, m SendenriUe, Qa. DR. WM. RAWLINGS, Physician & Surgeon, SendenriUe, Oe. Once at SendenriUe Hotel. April W, 1880. E. A SULLIVAN, NOTARY PUBLIC. BeedewrlUe, Go. i to ooUacUou c Spcoial attention gi Offloe in the Coart-Hoose. 0. H. ROGERS, Attorney at Law, SendenriUe, Ge. Prompt Attention given to ell hosfness Offloe In northwest room of Ocwrt-Houee. M»y ♦, 1880; C. C. BROWN, Attorney at Law, SendenriUe, Oe. WM practice in the State end United State, Courts. Offloe in Conrt-Hoose. H. N. HOLLIFIELD, Physician & Surgeon, SendenriUe, Go. Offloe next door to Mrs. Bayne's milliner, ■ton on Hania Street. DR. J. B. ROBERTS, Physician & Surgeon, BeadsnrtUe, Ge. be eonsnlted at his Bfflna on Haynes street, in the Masonic Lodge bail ding, from 9 lB to 1 p m, and Iron 8 to 8 p m j during other home at his rusidenoo, on Cnareh street, when not prnlosaionaUy engaged. April J 1880. Watches, Clocks AND JEWELS? urA»m>'WT JEKNIGAN. POSTOFFICE HOURS. 7:00 to 11:30 a. m, 1:30 to 6:00 p. m. B. A. SptUTAjr, P. 1(. Subscribe for the MERCURY, Only 91.60 per annem. I'UBUaniD BT JERNIGAN & SCARBOROUGH. BUY YOUR Spectacles, Spectacles, FROM JtRNICAN. Kt“None genuino without our Trade On hand and for sale, Music, Music. OO TO JERNIGAN In Deep Disguise. Down in the mUl town dark end brown, An old men crept to his cottage door, Trembling and shaking at erery frown Ol the low-browed folk as they strode beloro, 1 l- 1 ’" 11 at tho miser! count your gold, Diram cl'tho sins eaoh piece has told!" Hnt he muimured low as their keen taunts tell— " Time will tell! time will telll" Early and late at the factory gate Ilfs tottering lonn passed slowly through, With a withered smile like a mocking lato, To toil and inoil lor his scanty due. Sneers fell last with little heed; For tho hands are rougher in word than deed; But alike to pity and )eer (here loll — “ limo will toll! Timo wiU tell!" Children shunned tho little dell Where the oottago stood, and tho cowboys oil Ghostly talos ol tbelr hermit’s cell Scattered like grain Irom a threshing loft * For ho was miserly, lonely and old, And his heart had died from a Hie of cold. And his mind had wandered with words lha tell— 1 Timo will toll! Timo will tell!’” tiolins, accordeons, BOWS, STRINGS, R08INBOXE9, ETC. Summer and wintor lound him still At his wonted post by the striking loom, Tho hands still guiding with old-time skill Tho flashing beams through the twilight giootn; Old men diod and wore laid away; Younger came in their place to stay, And wondered why—bnt the answor fell— " 1 Imo will tell! Time wUl tell!” His loom was dumb one shiroring day; Tho thin, lient Angers had worked thoir last; Herd by his hcatd tho old man lay Clutuhii'ghis wtnllh with hands locked Inti; While a solemn smile his laoe enwroathod. Whom tho herald came in tho night and breathed, And an echo taint on tho stillness tell— 11 Time wiU tell! Time will tell 1” Ah ! time did toll. Whore the cottage stood, In tho old pine grove, by the mountain brook, Thut rang through the hollow—there in the wood 1'nirch.tower rose from the sheltered nook. 'Twi s a hallowed light shed the miser’s gold; For this ho had toiled in the days ol old, And tho deep-toned hell through the' evoning loll— ‘ Time will tell ! Time will tell!’’ — Ilot loti Trantcript. "Mr. Chesterfield! Oh, no, Edgar, please don’t,” interrupted Ida, ner vously, the pretty color dying out of her face. "Why on earth not, dearP” asked Edgar, Bomewhat impatiently, “You seem to have taken a strange antipathy to that man.” I suppose we all do some times,” said Idn, evasively. “Not without reason at any rate,” replied the baronet, in the same strain. 1 1 should really like you to overcome i suouict really liko you to overcome jour prejudice, Ida; although at the some time I have no wish to invite any one who is disagreeable to you.” He spoke coldly, and his tone sent a chill to her heart. Oh, was this secret, which she felt it her duty to conceal even from him, go* ing to make a breach between herself and the husband she loved so wellP If she had only had the courage to tell him before tbeir marriage, how much better it would have been; for she felt she never dnred reveal it now—the conse quence might prove too serious. She left the room- and sought her mother, who had left the nursery and gono to her own apartment Ida’s white face startled her: but when the young wile sat down and told her of her recent introduction to Mr. Chesterfield, and of Sir Edgar’s intention to invite him to the house, the mother s counte nance also cha ged, and for a moment she confiesed herself unable to offer any advice in the matter. " I cannot leave suddenly, Ida,” she said, "or make an excuse that Minnie is ill, as it was only last evening I was telling Edgar how much she was enjoy ing herself with her friends in the coun try, and his suspicions would bo danger ously aroused. No, the best and wisest plan is to lot things and to Itust in the mere; of Him who was pleas* again meeting the wife4>f my r nee es teemed ana valued friend, Henry Sinclair—your father.” he said, in ac cents that were slightly tremulous with an inward motion. " She has told me how much anxiety my presence beneath your husband’s roof has given you j but plan is to lot things take tbeir own course, rcy and , led to sen* A FAMILY SECRET. It was a proud and happy day lor Mrs. Sinclair on which her elder daughter had become Sir Edgar Westbrookc’s wife. She bad been a widow muny vea>-8, nnd since her husband’s death life hud been a Imrd struggle with her; nor was it the " snow of many winters” that lay upon her hair, but the touch of a heavy trouble which had fallen upon her when Ida nnd her little sister Min nie played together in white embroid ered frocks, and never knew then wiiy their mother so often wept. Ida gained an inkling of the cause, however, which grew in detail year by year with her own growth, until it became the family skeleton, which she nnd her mother hid away in the cupboard, determined never to bring it to light. , ' , Ere she had attained her eighteenth birthday Ida became Sir Edgar West- brooke’s wife. He had come down to their little secluded village in the early summer, and had there made the ac quaintance of tho widow and her two pretty daughters. Ida had learned to love him, though nearly twenty >ears her senior, and before that summer passed they were married. He took her to his luxurious homo in I/mdon, and they were as happy as the days were long. . Sbo knew very little of the world, reared all her life in a country home, and wns as pure and guileless as tue in fant she gave birth to one twelvemonth later, but the trouble whtch had turned her’mother’s hair to silver had never once been mentioned. Indeed, Ida even ti ambled ftttiie idea of ber hus band ever discovering it, especially now that a son had been born to benr his Xttee months after the birth of their child, Lady Westbrooke^accom panied Sir Edgar to a ball, given by one of his friends, and there she was introduced to Mr. Chesterfield, who, her hostess previously informed her, was a very rich banker. 8ir Edgar vvesi- brooke stood watching bis wife M the introduction was made, and wondered WSSSiS voungface; he noticed, too, young , her breath camo in bun g on his arm, her orea short, quick gasps, and that Diirently painfully agitated, He was_a ; she wasap- Mach ine Needles, OIL and SHUTTLES ul«n« i^ 8 0 Moines, for sale. I wiU 0 ordor parts ot Machines that get oroko, ami new pieoes are wanted. ESS SSSStoTSTS' fiber, tbl. Corse Cbesterfield, the banker. Could she have ever met him before, and even if she had, what was the reason of this “h°. paltry a feellM *» je, he fell wohgW aggrieved, he knew not why. He lovea her so well, and deemed her utterly in capable of anything hke duplicity It was during their” drive home that A J- JERNIGAN. Kw?half restingupon WsshouMer "Have you ever met Mr. LDOswi fiC Shepaused'a' 1 moment, and then an- 8W “No! Edgar; never in my life. W "7Jothing, dear; only I thought per haps you Bright have done so, taid her husband, quietly. , Hn i She spoke the ruth, In vas sur. , an . * J vn1S«llTf>r oodness as pleased to send us this great and bitter trial so many years ago. The qhnnccs are,dear Ida,” (for the young wi'e was trembling in her mother’s em- hrnte) !‘that George Clojlertield will i.evtr u (ugi.ize me. I was but a few yenrs older than you when he saw me last; and now my hair is white and—” " (), dear mother, I was wrong not to tell Edgar before we were married,” in terrupted Ida. “Whatever would he say if he were to learn the truth nowP I—tho mistress of his home and the mother of his child? 1 ’ "Hush! hush! compose yourself, my dear Ida,” said Mrs. Sinclair, south- iogly. " Go to your husband; do nothing to excite his suspicion, neither for one moment conjecture up ev Is that may never exist Even if this should be the George Chesterfield whom your father—” “ Mother, don’t,” almost shrieked Ida, " the veiy walls have ears.’ " Butevon if he be, dear,” added Mrs. Sinclair, "the same George Chester- field, “surely be would never publish it abroad to tho world.” They returned to the dining-room where Ida had left her husband, nnd no further allusion was made to the dinner pary On the followng morning, however, as Lady Westbrooke sat in her boudoir alone, with her boy on her knee, Sir Edgar joined her, and she then told him that she wus p rfectly willing to invite any guest that her hus band might choose to select. She looked so pretty, so utterly guile less, ns she sat thore with the morning sunlight turning her bright brown hair to go;d,that he oent and kissed her with even more than usual affection. “ My little wife shall ask whom she pleases, and then she will please me,” ho said, with muoh tenderness. “Only I don’t like her taking prejudices with out a reason you need have had no fear that l am coward enough to let the innocent suf fer for the guilty, and disturb the peace of such perfect bliss as yours and your noble husband’s. Let u>c add one word more: my doctor 1ms oi derud mu abroad —to the south of France; all business responsibilities devolve upon my brother; I tako my departure next week, and there is but little chance of mv ever treading English soil again.” Ida’s heart was too full for words, nnd she silently suffered George Chesterfield to take her hand and carry it to his lips, unconscious that her husband saw all irom the staircase. It was late when the last of the guests took their departure; nnd then Ida, all unsuspicious, sought her husband in his library. . He stood there turning over a few let ters, but he put them down as his wife entered, apd turned his face toward hor. “Ida, I wish to speak to you—come in and shut the door ” The tone of his words fell like ice npon her heart, and she saw that, after all, the truth was to be told. 8tl mtly she obeyed him. "What were you saying to Mr. Ches terfield in the ante-room to-night?” The silence that followed was awful, and then she came forwarr, with a faint cry, but he put out his arm to keep ber back. “ Pray remain where you are,” he said; "we can talk perfectly well at this distance.” He gazed at her for a moment os she stood dumb before him, in her superb dinner-dress, w : th the diamonds that his mother had worn shining on her neck and arms, and her lovely face, pale nnd quivering now, above them. "I wish for an answer to my ques tion,” he said, again, " ond we will not leave tLis room until 1 have had ('ne." The diamonds upheaved nnd fell— then she spoke, not excitedly, but clearly, slowly, and distinctly: "The time has come, then, Edgar, winn I must tell you that which I fear you will reproach me for not bnving told you before our marriage,” she began. "I know it was very wrong oi me, now, but I did not think so seri> ously of it then; and it has always been a secret between my mother and mysolf. I don't think even Minnie knows all the truth. It is about my father—lie was a partner in Gtorge Chesterfield’s bank; nnd, shortly after I was born, ho lost a large sum of money in specula tions. He used to gamble, too; but alas I my mother, who loved him only too well, never knew it until it was all too late. He was often out half the night, but lie told her that It was his business which kept him: and she, in fur innocence, be’ievfd what he said. One day—1 teem to have a faint recol lection of it—ho was arrested on the charge of robbing Georgo Chesterfield's bank of fitteen thousand pounds. He The Trade lu Nats; It wonld surprise many people not engaged in trade to know what a va riety of commodities that appear value less are important articles of commerce. To the average boy or girl there is scarcely anything of so little worth - rxo< pt to afford a day’s sport—as nuts, and yet hundreds of thousands of dol lars aro annually invested in them. During the recent j cars the trade in foreign nnd domesiiqnuts has developed wonderfully. NcwTfork city has be come the most important center of the trade, the extent ot which indicates that people have either secured patent stomachs, or that indigestion has lost its terrors. Wholesale dealers in nuts can now as certainly count on a profitable trade In the winter season, as can the candy makers at Christmas times - and all the boys and girls know how certain that is. Africa used to supply us with peanuts, sending them by snip loads, out our Southern Slates have so successfully cultivated this popular nut that we are now independent. The States that fur nish the bulk of the supply are Virginia, North Carolina and Tennessee. During the present season the crop of Virginia was 1,100,000bushels; ofTcnnesee 630,- 000 bushels, and of North Carolina. 120.000 bushels The not most popular after the peanut The Texi wus found guilty, transported, and died tde.” i penal servitu* Again there wo9 a brief silence, which Ida colored guiltily, and longed, as he yir "" iswojisii-i’i mtii,i, points. > ,A tf ie fur/ ini,, ,'^ Vrr and instead of crowding $ Mil , ffl •!. I ‘. ' e ''; r •'titer it a',, 4, and 6 ins. : : A. j , ary To vT 0n V* uiiltr apart, Ays more ROOM V*/ . fttoo derive more nourishment from the soiL &10 Mr rail produoe bctlor developed ,1.1 n. „ heads. Semi for Illustrated Pampnlef ■iLTmUoimi.i,. J.A.JOHES,WILMINGTON, tSL mui, mr he had measured awe lcugth of row againH forty- H. CLAYTON, ■” i.... _ ,ot five bu«£X k . "1.WMltton,Del.,and Farmer Hn su r . PoiDt «* tha n t wi\ n h .‘n r<; /r oro w, ‘eat, where I drilled n ' •to’vinx r„: - l fa ^ l r h thc style. I gave them a fair his mind>as relieve tlo nery0U3 nox t But Ida was a -. , ,, consequence of its fatigue, s que th The matter was never ag^in referred to until Mrs. Sinolwrcamo oin^visrU exceedingly g^odf^w, and-” JOSmiA CLATTON, Mt. riiuul. Del. tnod there by her side, playing with Iris hoy, to make a fulj conlession of everything, and trust to his love and direction for thc rest. As hu turned to leave ter, the words were on her lips, “Edgnr, como back; I have something to tell you,” And then she looked at her babe, nnd her courage failed her—her torgue was mute, and Sir Edgar lelt her. How miserable she felt all through that day! Ah! and many more in suc cession ; and how muny tears she shed in secret! Her mother had advised her to invite Mr. Chesterfield to dinner, in accordance with her husband’s wishes, and Ida had done so, though her fingers bad trembled as she penned the words, and sho lived in continued dread of what the consequences of it all might be. She began to feel that it was tm- pos ible to go on like this much longer; that, come what may, she must tell her husband. .... Tho evening of the dinner-party ar rived, and, although Ida had been nerv ous and hysterical all through the day, she stood by her proud husband s side in thc drawing-room, calmly doing the honors of the hostess. Her mother sat on an ottoman near her, looking pale and lovely, with her hands placidly folded, and the lights from a candel abra, throwing its faint glimmer upon the silver tresses of her hair. "Mr- Che?'Tfield!” Lady Westbrooke went forward to meet him, and uttered the words of in troduction to her mother with lips tbat never faltered. The consciousness that this night would surely determine everything, either one way or theothcr, made ber feel wonderfully brave. She saw her mother’s cheek turn to the hue of death, and the blood rush like a torrent to George Chesterfield s face. Tlie recognition was mutual, without the shadow of a doubt; and Ida, with a sickening feeling possessing her went back lo ber husband’s side, fearful as to what might happen next. Later on, atmost toward the end of the evening, she heard tier mother convers- inc with him in a small ante-room which adjoined the drawing-room on the top of the staircase. She was sitting a little way apart from the others. Her husband was not with them—she believed that he was in the card-room below-—when Mrs. Sin clair came toward her, and stooping down, whispered that Mr. Chesterfield wished to speak to her alone. For a moment she hesitated—-what if Sir Edgar should return and find her in tho nnte-room with the man for whom she bad apparently shown suoh ^*“Do go—he won’t detain you a min ute ” whispered Mrs. Sinclair,hurriedly. "You will be back before any one has time to miss you.” . And Ida went, her heart beating W The gas burned low in that little room where George CheBterfield stood erect and immovable, and evidently awaiting the appearance of his fair young hostess. He smiled as she came in, and his looks was broken soon by a wild and bitter cry from Ida. " Oh, Edgar, I know I was never fit to be your wile—1, the daughter of a con vict,” she burst forth. “But I loved you so well, and feared that I should lose you i( you knew what I was. And still more unworthy am I now to be the mother of your child. Oh, Edgar, my husband, say so-tell me you can never love me any more, and I will go away as quietly as possible—away with my mother!'* 8h ‘ sank down up-n tho floor In the agony of her great grief, and ran ber jeweled lingers through the loosening tresses of her hair.. The next moment and she was lifted tenderly and gently to her feet, and gathered to her hus band’s breast. "Is this all, my poor, foolish little Ida ? ” he said, u oothingly, and kissing her bedewed brow. “ To think that the fault ol another could ever lessen my ,ove for you. Your father is dead - lieaven rest his soul—and the skeleton of his crime shall never rise up between me and my wife. This, then, has caused your fear ot George Chesterfield. My darling, how much uneasiness you might have spared yourself il you had only told me all this before! ” " And you won’t love me any tho less, Edgar ?” sho asxed, timidly seeking his face. “ Any the less ?” ho repeated, with a smile. " More, if that can be possible; for it has convinced me to the uttermost of what a precious wife I have got. No, darling, set your mind at rest on that sooro, at once and for all. And your father’s crime shall remain buried with him. Wo won’t let that be a skeleton in our cupboard, Ida, will wc ? What do you sav, dear ?” But Lady Westbrooke bad nothing to say—she was sobbing out her joy and thankfulness upon her husband’s breapt is the pecan. The Texas pecan is pecially in demand. While a few years ago several barrels ol pecans abundantly supplied the demand, oar loads and in voices of one or two hundred barrels aro now not uncommon. Of the other nuts tho hickory is among the mo-t popular. While in many localities, especially in the Eastern States, they are becoming scarce, in the Western States they are sufficiently plentiful to ship to New York half a dozen car-loads a week when demanded. That delicious nut, the oheBtnut, is becoming scaroer every year, nnd there is much difficulty in obtaining them sound in large quantities Their great populhrity will probably prevent thoir total disappearance, for they are already being successfully cultivated, and it is expected that in a lew years tho culti vated nut will equal In quality the high- priced Italian chestnuts. Black walnuts and butternuts are re- irarded ns too rich and oily for table use, but the former is largely wd by con fectioners. The American hazel nuts are not an important nrticlo of com merce, 'he filbert largely taking their nlnce. Only a few English hazel nuts find their way to the American market. It is staled that growers in California contemplate introducing u number of varieties of nuts native to Spain and Italy. Tho trade in foreign nuts is enormous Thc demand is Bald to have tripled dur- FARR, GARDEN AID HOUSEHOLD. A New York correspondent of ’he Ca nadian farmer writes > A few years ago, having a field of sowed corn, of good heavy growth, 1 made an estimate cf the green weight of the stalKs grow ing on an acre by counting and weighing measured sections of different parts of the field, and found the amount to be thirty-six tons to the acre, which, I see, corresponds with the weight of the best crops reported by others. As I intended to plow under part of the field, I esti mated that the amount of vegatable matter, counting the stumps and all, would not be less than forty tons per acre to use for green manuring, and ns tills was a heavier growth than I could expect to get from anything clso tnan that for the purpose, I was in hopes to find tbat it would do the land the most good. To plow un der sucli a v rop and have it all covered deep and nicely under ground required some Dractic^. I did it in tho following manner: With a long ohain a team was nicched to the rear of the farm r jller, and ‘.>s they were driving alongside tho standing corn the roller was made to crush tlie corn flat to the ground by a man holding the tongue and steering it. In this way it was laid down in a way ing the past five years. As everybody id is tho “ old reliable,*’ knows, tho almcn always has been in demand, and prob ably always will be. Thc " Eng lish ’’ walnuts, formerly called Ma deira walnuts, mninly come from France nnd Spain, thc English crop being consumed at home. They have boon successively raised in the Slates on the Paoilic const. The Brazil nuts are a kind of “ linked grease, long drawn out”-a few of them go a long way. For cocoanuts tho demand is steady and so immense that dealers feel safe in buying them by the hundred thousand. The process of dessiccating them has widened their family use, and they are now a favorite ingredient of pies, enkes and oandies. It is prob tblc that with the extension of railroads the trade in nuts will in crease, and il is not unlikely that in re mote regions people now unemployed will go into tho business of raising nuts -'or market —CinointuUi Commercial. Parrots. Thc parrot is like a much esteemed and a muoh detested bird. Tho easy facility with which they learn to speak, •ind their eccentric doings, endear them to some people quite as much as their nosiy clatter makes them a source of annoyance to others. But it must be iduiitted that the parrot is one of the mest interesting and amusing of bipeds Much has been said and written con cerning tho singular sayings of this natural mimio, anil many amusing scenes have been recorded wheiein the parrot has been the central figure. 11 is related ol a parrot owned by n Boston lady, that, when asked to sing, it will cough and ‘scrape its throat” in af fectation of a nervous young lady, but, when urged, he sings: plo*...... _ _ . and wheel ooulter I was able to turn it under deep and nice. After plowing (it being abon tho first of September) the furrows were rolled down, dragged and sowed to rye, thinking to plow that under the spring in timo for planting tho whole field to potatoes, nnd oxpect- ingtbento seen marked difference in the crop in favor of tills piece with these two green crops plowed under, compared with tho field having no manure. But in this I was muoh disappointed, for l have not to this day seen any difference in the way of making this better than tho remainder of the field. After plowing in a clover crop in the same way, I have, after a week, found it rotting fast un der the furrow; but this corn, after three weeks, seems to be about as green as when first plowed under; and again, after six weoks, found it was not rot ting. so that finally, after plowing uu- dor the rye tho following spring, I had to run tho plow very shallow to avoid tearing up the tough and partlv green stalks of thc sound corn. By this 1 wns pretty woll convinced oflts keeping quu’lties when buried underground or packed in tlie soil, as is so much re commended in tho prnctioc of ensilage. As to tlie value of such corn for feed ing purposes, I find it worth most to feed green from the field to cattle and horses in August und September, when the pastures are becoming dry and feed short Then, if any is left, out and stnnd it into large sacks to remain until about the time they are wanted to Iced in tho winter, unless it was out and stored in a green state as roferred to above or winter ween food. In conclusion. 1 wish to state that although tlie plowing under of sowed seed seemed rather a failuro in enrich ing the land, still I have great faith in green manuring that it will enrich our land the cheapest of any, and fur the purpose would use of all clover; but if that failed, would immediately after harvest till the stubble and sow it to rye oi oats to plow under. I find two great reasons for doing this, for I thus obtain a good, clean vegetable growth to plow under, and also by preoccupy ing thc land with such a crop it is kept from seeding itself to foul grassos and weeds, to be a detriment to the land; for I find the manure is always ready to soon start somethlug growing there, if l should fail to. 1 ol so after any hoed crop sow it again in thc same way when lb ere ts timo to obtain any reasonable growth—to oats if only lor a fall growth, or to ryo if it can remain until some time into tho next spring Mulching, A correspondent of tho Anterican Cultivator, dwelling on tho importance of mulching, says: Upon a dry and rocky hillside, in tho town of Shrews bury, Mass., stood an orchard. The *< Gora’s a jolly good follow, Whloh nobody can dony.” Robbing a Boa’s Lips. Tho zoological garden of Antwerp, Belgium, has been the scene of a very moving drama. A young naval surgeon, great amateur of ophidians, entered the serpent cage in company with their guardian to attend to an enormous boji which was suffering from an inflamed jaw. In order to rub the lips of the animal with some ointment tho surgeon took hold of the reptile by the backpart of the head, but the animal, which is fifteen feet long and large in proportion, bog8n to hiss and coiled himself round the arms, legs and body of bis aggressor. The guar inn, taking fright at the re sistance of the serpent and at the threat ening attitude of the other snakes, numbering about thirty, ran. leaving the burgeon in a critical situation. The b a was beginning to tighten its hold and to press on the poor man’s chest, whe" he had the idt a of letting go his hold of the serpent’s head. Thu animal, feeling itself free, uncoiled itself ana took refuge behind the rockwork of the cage without doing him any injury The Right Before the Mowing. All shimmering In tho morning shine And diamonded with dew, And qnivering in the soentod wind That thrills Its green heart throagb; The littlo field, the smiling Held, With all Its flowers a-blowlng I How happy looks tho golden fleld, Tho day beloro the mowing ! , Outspread ’neatli the departing light, Twilight still void ol stars, Save whore, low westering, Venus hides From the red eye of Mars; How quiet lies the silent field With all its beauties glowing, Just stirring—llkenohild asleep, Tho night beloro the mowing. Shnrp steel, Inevitable hand, Out keen, out kind I Our Held We know lull well must be laid tow Beloro its wealth it yield; Ijibor and mirth and plenty blest Its blameless death bestowing; And vet we weep, and yet we wfeep. The night beloro the mowing. —Dinah Mu/oeh Crate. HUMOROUS. Sure to come round—The apple dump ling. Cannibals sometimes have their neigh bors at dinner. It is feared cold weather has rained next wintor’s ioe crop.—Oil Derrick. The greatest masliefs usually turn out the smallest potatoes.—Philadelphia Bulk tin. Bjornsteme Bjornson has written very pleasantly to a Bjnlenna paper about Bigrant.—/fatcfcei/e. When a New York young man pops the question he now says; "Let’s con solidate.”— Boston Transcript. A well-dressed buckwheat cake wears a flap-jack-ket, cut by us dally, with •yrap trimmings.—Boston Qlobe. A Boston paper charges certain actors " fulminating trlto fatuities.” No with arrests were made.—Alta California. It is sad but true that a man who once becomes deaf seldom enjoys a happy hear after.—fyraiute Standard. The man who conn s about solely to kill .ime should c inline himself strictly to his own timo.— New Orleans Pic ayune. Tho most afflicted part of a house is tho window. It is always full of panes; and who lias not scon moro than one window blind ? A pprson may lmvo his name spelled Mefistofelos, McphUto or MephiBto- plieles, and be tlie same old fiend all tho same.—Picayune. A cute observor remarks thut "tho man who stops Ills paper to economize is like a man who goes barefoot to save iris shoes.”—Boston a lobe. “ What,”* asked tho teacher, "was tho greatest obstacle Washington en countered in crossing the Delaware?’ And the smart bad boy thought fora minute and then made answor: “Thc toil man."—Hawkeyc. Toaoher—" John, what arc your boots made of?" Boy-" Of leather/’ "Where does tho leathor come from?" "From tvees were old and lind not given a ^ood He smiled reassured her. ... . - Westbrooke, it has caused me “Lady vvestorooKu, u> uuo vuuocu me ■ mingled feelings of pain and pleasure in | engine. An Electric Hose. A new thing in fire apparatus, says the American Journal of Industry, is the electric hGse. A wire runs along in the cotton or rubber part of the hose, con tinuing the connection as each section is attached, and over this passes elec tricity generated by one of the engine’s fly-wheels. Conneeted with the nozzle is a little contrivance by which the en gineer can be told,although Bquares dis tant from the man who is playing water on a fire, to “turn her on.” “cut her off” "stop,” or "go ahead," or any thing else tbat can be agreed upon, by a signal which is struck on a gong on the In the Bowdoin square bird storo there was a parrot, whioh, every afternoon be tween three and five o’olock, in imita tion of the newsboys,cried with wonder ful accuracy: "Herald, five o’clock, two cents!” The writer was attracted recently to a handsome African parrot fitting upon a perch at this place. He offered it a peanut, which the parrot eagerly seized, with the remark: "What doyousoyP” Agam, another nut was offered to it, but withheld, when the bird ejaculated: "Oh, you rascai!’ i "Wipe off your chin!” "Pull down your vest!" One day a lady was aboil to leave the store, when a parrot in quired: "Want to go to the depotP’ Thelinquiry was so natural in tone that the lady turned aboutand answered one qf tlie attendants, who she supposed aaked the question. Thc most va uable parrot is the African, with ashen-gray body, black bill, white face and scarlet tail. Their cost varies from ten to one hundred dollars or upward, according to thoir powers of speaking. There are many varieties of the green parrot, some remarkable for their beautful plumage, and others for their capabilities of learn ing and retaining words, sentences and songn, and the Cuban parrot is more often found caged than any other of tho green varieties. The double yellow head, the half yellow head and ’he white fronted parrots are much admired for beauty and “conversational powers, - ’ and the Amazon parrot, which speaks Spanish well, is valuable on account of its rarity. Green parrots are usually about half the price of the gray. The Australian paroquet is the name given to a species of small parrots. It is a very eccentric bird, can be taught many amusing tricks, and sells at from ten to fifteen dollors per pair —Boston Herald Gardening, as well as the art of making bouquets, is taught in the schools of Japan, and nowhere in Europe are there so many flower gar dens as in that country. All new speoies and varieties of garden flowers and trees are sold at high prices, and be come known throughout the country with great rapidity. Gardening is car ried on by ail Glasses. crop of apples for several years owner, having a large quantity of hay. drew it to the field and placed it around tho trees to the depth of two ve inches, covering the whole ground occupied by the trees, omitting every alternate row. This was done in the month of July. The next year every treo where the mulch was applied, was loaded with large and fair apples, while the trees hart made a great growth of wood, and tho leaves had a beauti ful green and spring-like appear- since; those without tlie muloh boro no 'fruit. The varieties were the same. Covering the soil with a muloh Is valuable in many ways, besides the de cay of the material placed upon the ground, of tho added fertility of tho manure or straw. A certain amount of moisture must be retained in the soil to allow the fibrous roots to feed to the best advantage. If there is more than the required amount of water, the soil is too cold for tho best results, and the air is excluded by the water to an ex tent that prevents or retards chemical action. When ammonia escapes from decaying vegetation or from the soil and passes into the atmosphere, it does not chemically unite with other substances, but simply remains suspended, to be brought to the earth by the first rain. Household Hints, Commence to grate a nutmeg at the stem end Put salt in the water in which eggs are poached. To remove grease from wall paper lay several folds of blotting paper on the snot and hold a hot iron near it until tho grease is absorbed. The small white sLgo called pearl is the best. The large brown kind has an earthy taste. It should always bo kept in a covored jar or box. Salt cod should be kept in a dry place where the odor will not penetrate to other parts of the house. The best kind is that which is called dun, from its pe culiar color. It is a simple matter to make hard soap whioh is not only agreeable to use but which has the great merit of clean liness. To seven pounds of tallow use three pounds of rosin, two pounds of potash and six gallons of water; boil for three hours, or better still, for five; t urn from the kettle into a washtub; let it stand all night. In tlie morning cut into bars and lay them on a table or board in the sun to harden for two or three days. This quantity will last a family of four persons a year if used for ordinary household purposes. the hide of the ox." “ What animal, therefore, supplies you with boots am meat to eat?" " fnibor.” My father. 1 Joe, my dear,” said a fond wife to her husband, who f illowed the pisca tory profession, "do brighten u: a lit tle, you look so slovenly. Oh, what an awful rocollecllon it would be for me if you should be drowned looking sol” " Look hero, boy, this is a miserable certificate your tcnclier sends me of your standing,” said a Galveston parent to bis >m. "’Tnin’t ny fault. 1 didn’t have the getting up of it. or it would have been nil right.”— Galveston News. Why the Operator Couldn't Climb. Tho other day John F. Wallaok, the ;onial superintendent ot the Western Jnion telegraph in this district, related to a fellow passenger, as they passed through Lewisville, a bit of experience connected with that station worth re cording. It occurred during one of the night storms so frequent last summer. The violence of the wind had detached tho trunk quartruplex wire; used for New York business, and the testing in strument located the break at the first pole west of Lewisville. Mr. Wallaok called up the operator there, and ordered that the break be fixed. “ Can’t go out to-night; storm is too bad," was the reply. " Storm or no storm, the thing has to be fixed.” “ W ell. I’ve got no ladder.” “ Go out and olimb the pole.” This somewhat testily. " I can’t climb the pole.” "What’s the reason you can’t?’ Manager’s temper going fast. “ I’m a woman.” Mr. Wallack had forgotten, in the press of business, that Lewisville had a female operator, but when reminded of it he gave up the job and hired two boys to attend to it.—Indianapolis News. ilaUdnritlng and Character. You never take a pen in bond but you are showing something of your own are showing something oi your own character. The very style of the hand writing is an element in the determina tion of character. The way in whioh a man dashes off a letter is very much the way in which a man uses his voice. There is a modulated ease iu the tones of th handwriting. Without professing to be experts, like Messrs. Chabot ana Netberclift, we can certainly gather a general idea of character from the hand writing. A minister was commenting on a very strong dispatch in the pres> enceof his sovereign. “The language is strong,” said the statesman, " but the writer does not mean it; he is irreso lute ” “ Whence do you see irresolu tion?” said the king. “ In his n’s and g’s, please your majesty.” Only it is to be said tbat a great deal of humbug is often talked by people who profess to be judges of handwriting. I showed a professor of caligraphy a letter whioh I had r ooelved. He took a very unfavor able view ot the baniwriting. It was the handwriting of a man without learn ing, without genius, without feeling. " And now, sir,” l said, “ will you look at the signature?” The letter was writ ten by Lord Macaulay.—London Societ i.