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— 1 „a spcmvl- class matter at the Samlors- & , tered ‘-iUo Postofllco, April 27, 1880. SandorsTillo, Washington Couity, Ga. published by A< j. JENNICAN,: PnnrniETon and Published, Subscript 011, .. .$1.50 per Year. G. w. H. WHITAKER, denti s t, 8ANDEBSVILLE, GA. 'facts Cash. Ollii i' nt his ltosiclonco, on Harris Htreot. April 8,1880. ‘ B. D. EVANS, Attorney at Law, SANUEBSVILLE, GA. April 3, 1880. DR. WM. RAWLINGS, Physician & Surgeon, SANDKUSVILLE, OA. 0filro at Satnlersvillo Hotel. April 10, 1880. E. A. SULLIVAN, NOTARY PUBLIC, SANDE118VILLE, GA. Spi’iial attention givsn to tho collodion ol ■l.iims. Oflloo in tho Court-house. 0. H. ROGERS, Attorney at Law, Sandorsvillo, Ga. I';,,mpt Rtsention given to all business. (Mil • ■ iii northwest wing of Gonrt-honso. C. C. BROWN, Attorney at Law, Sandorsvillo, Ga. Will practice in tho State and Unitod State, nmrta. Ollico in Court-houso. H. N. HOLLIFIELOT Physician and Surgeon, Sandcrsvillo, Ga. Office next door to Mrs. Bayne’s millinery (lore on Harris Street. DR. J. B. ROBERTS, Physician and Surgeon, Sandcrsvillo, Oa. May lie consulted at his office on Hayn s Sire, t, in the Masonic Lodgo building, from D i. m. to 1 p. m.. and from ‘1 to 5 p. m.; during ather hours at his residence on Church Street, den not prof mionally engngod. April 3, WHO. Watches, Clocks AND JEWELRY~ nu’Aincn by JERNIG an POSTOEFin: nouns, 7:00 to 11:30 A. M. 1:30 to 6:00 r. M. E. A. Sullivan, P. M. Subscribe for the MERCURY Only $1,50 per annum, ruw.isnr.n by JERNIGAN & SCARBOROUGH BUY YOUR Spectacles, Spectacles, FROM JERNIGAN. Nono goi gOnuino without our Trade Mai lt. Gn hand anil for sale, Nose Glasses, Etc THE MERCERY. 1C! MUSIC! -GO TO- JERNIGAN I! B OWS, STRINGS, lio SIx BOXEa&c, Machine Needles, °il and Shuttles I Wi& MACHINES, for snlo go , l 1 " 1 ' I ". lrtH of Machines that feet il >' ok, '"> lor which new 1‘iecca aro wanted. r •'•KliyiGiAIV. mtILI, POINTS. L f ‘. e l 'tU into f ""'t 1'iMend of erotrdtiw ■ “‘c blantj thus ? ct,,er a **W, 4, and 6 Ini. i few to bTOOl, dJriJI f ,vUfr «P«rt, bare more ROOM Bp become lnnrs i ™ nourishment from the soil. SMhV'In n,v hroinA , ’• J ' 4 "™ES,WH,MII(GT0tl, til. t" miMMr.) “ ' (cpk "6°, "”'l 1 I'm I l<r ‘ I , 1. 1 !"°. r ' * heat Where It km drill** ‘T 0 °t tbc ,>11" iii 11 /• . n'l'i' 1 "“‘■wured rows, *u<] ' Vu .' of (ii iiii, 1 „' nrae ll,,, 8 l h of row agatnai/orty- " UA c, -*VTON. Jk., Ml. IMcaeant, Del. A. J. JERNIGAN, PnorniETOR. VOL. II. To-Morrow. Tho sotting sun, with dying beams, Had waked tho purple hill to lire, And citadel, and ilomo and spiro Wore gilded by tho far-off gleams; And in aiul out dark pine-trees crept Full many a slender lino of gold; Good motos athwart tho river swept, And kissed it ns it onward rollod;’ And sunlight lingered, loath to go. Ah, well 1 it enuseth sorrow To part from those wo lovo below; And yot tho biui bb bright shall glow To-morrow. Tho tide was ebbing on tho strand, And stooping low its silver crest; Tho crimson seaweed lny at rcHt Upon tho ambor-ribbod Band; Dashed o’er tho rooks and on tho shore Flung parting wreaths of pearly spray, Then llod away; yot turned onco more And sent a sigh across tho bay. As though it could not boar to go. Ah, well 1 it causoth sorrow To part with those wo lovo below, Yot thitherward tho tide shall How To-morrow I Two hearts havo mot to say farewell, At oven, when tho sun wont down; Each life-sound from tho biwy town Smote sadly as a passing bell. Olio whispered: “ Parting is sweet pain— At morn and ovo returns tho tide;” “Nay I parting rends tho heart in twain,” And still they linger sido by side, And still thoy lingor, loath to go. Ah, well! it causoth sorrow To pnrt from those wo lovo below— For shall wo over mooter no, To-morrow ? A TALE OF ROME. Easter Sunday, 1808, rose bright and clear over Rome. The beautiful city glistened in the first rays of tho rising sun, and tho golden cross on tho summit of St. Totor’s shone like some fair star, till it could be seen for miles away. In one of the poorest parts of the city, far removed from tho palace of the pope, there aro as in other citios many houses huddled close together, as if oven God’s blessed light and air wore denied to the poor creatures who are obliged to live there; but in an upper room of one of these same houses tho glorious Easter sunshine looked in this Sunday morn ing and lighted up two childish faces bent over mugs of bread and milk. Thoy wore such sweet little faces to wear such heavy looks of care— faces that could have been so bright and happy, only there was so much to prevent. In the next room tho mother, so fondly loved, lay ill; the money to supply tho family want.'; had dwindled, till two small coin wero all that was loft, and something must bo done. Thoy wero only a boy and girl, ten and twelve years old, but ton and t welve is very old sometimes. Eight years ago thoy had left dear America. The artist father was so sure that fame and wealth awaited him, if lie could only manage for a few years, while ho gavo himself opportunities of study in ltomc; and thoy could have managed, for his pictures sold well ns ho painted them', but tho hand ol' fever could not bo stayed, and the poor mother was left to struggle on with her boy and girl! Ah ! tho hard experience for such as those, and tho sad, sail days for tho little children ! God pity them I They had come at last to live in this wretched quarter of the city, and the two coins represented the family wealth. “I have thought of a plan, Amy dear," said Mark, as he raised his head from his mug. “It may bring us some thing. The crowd in front of St. Peter’s to-day will bo very largo, and, oh! if I can only get money enough to buy tho wine and chicken for dear mamma that the doctor ordered, I shan’t so much mind tho crowd.” “ What is it you would do, brother Mark?” said little Amy—“would you beg? Mother would never let you if she knew.” “ No, no, dear Amy; it is only to sell something that I am going out to-day.” “ But wlmt have we that any of the grand ladies and gentlemen, who come to see the mass at St. Peter’s, would buy, brother?” “ Did you not notice last night, little sister, that mother’s Easter blossoms were in bloom? I know slie is very choice of them, and loves them dearly, because they are all she has of the old home in America; but, for all that, I am going to pick every ono this morning, and try to sell them in front of St. Peter’s when the people come out from mass. May it not be that there will bo some Americans among tho crowd, and that their heart may be touched at tho sight of the dear, familiar yellow blos soms, and that tho good God may put it into their hearts to buy them from me ?’’ Just at this moment a feeble voice called, and both children ran to obey tho summons. They were clasped in loving arms, and kissed with passionate tenderness, and then Amy, with cheei- ful face, threw open the window to let in the sweet spring sunshine and balmy air, while Mark told liis mother he was going out for a while, but would be back presently. Carefully closing the door between their mother’s room and the outer ono, the children went to a window-box and stood looking at the flowers which filled it. For the eight years they had been in Rome those homely yellow blossoms DEVOTED TO LITERATURE, AGRICULTURE AND GENERAL INTELLIGENCE. $1.50 PER ANNUM. SANDERSVILLE, GA., MAY 24, 1881. NO. 8. THE MERCURY PUBLISHED EVERY TUESDAY. NOTICE. 43*All communications intended for this pa per must bo accompanied with tho full name o tho writer, not necessarily for publication, b u as a guarantee of good faith. Wo are in no way responsible for the views or opinions of correspondents. had greeted their sight every spring— at first in a pretty little garden, when papa was living, and now only in a window-box in a poor tenement. Tho mother lmd brought them with her from America, and they wero very dear to hor, for they told a tale to her heart which tho children could never know. At first cherished by both husband and wife for a dear association, and now more sacred still to the sorrowful, lonely woman. “Dear Mark, leavo ono, that I may take it in to mother, by-and-bye.” So the boy gathered tho rest. Amy tied them up ns prettily as she could, and they agreed that somo one must buy them, they looked so fresh and beauti ful. It was n walk of two miles, but Mark took tho groat golden cross for a guide, and when he came noarer, tho crowds of people hurrying in tho same direction told him ho was right. At last the cathedral rose beforo him grand and statoly, and all nt once n feeling came over Mark that ho was n very Rinall boy, and that his bunch of Easter blos soms wns very insignificant, but ono thought of homo and mother, ono re collection of Amy’s troubled little face, and ho pressed on. Tho crowd was immonso 1 Ho could not ut first get near tho door of the church whero ho had intended to stand and offer his flowers as tho pooplo came out, but he need not wait for that, Peo pie wore all around him, and surely ono was ns likely to buy as another. He cleared his throat and turning to ono lady near him he held up tho flowers and asked her to buy with an instinctive feeling that Indies wero the ones to appeal to whero flowers wero in question. But his voice must havo been very low, for sho pressed on to get a nearer position to the church, never heeding him. No one seemed to notice him, and his few timid nttempts to nd- vortiso his wares wero unavailing. Every ono wns intent on tho religious cere monial going on in the cathedral. Rich ly dressed ladies and gentlemen crowd ed past him, carriages rolled on the out skirts of the densely-packed spaco in front of the great church, wealth ami fashion lmd como to satisfy their curi osity nnd no ono felt tho little human tv»ed so close to them. At last Marie, being slight and small, edged between the people till lie stood directly in front of tho balcony over the central doorway, whero tho pope alwnys stands at Easter to pronounco tho benediction over the assembled multitude. At Rome, ns might bo expected, Easter Sunday is celebrated with elaborate ceremonials, for which prepara tions have been making all the previous week. The day is ushered in by tho firing of cannons from the Castle of St. Angelo, and about 7 o’clock carriages with Indies and gentlemen are beginning to pour toward St. Peter’s. That magnificent cathedral is richly docorated for tho occasion, tho altars are freshly ornamented, and the lights around the tomb and liguro of St. Peter aro blazing. According to usage, the pope officiates this day at mass in St. Peter’s, and he does so in tho most imposing manner. From a hall in the adjoining palace of tho Vatican, ho is borne into the church under circumstances of tho utmost splendor. Seated in his clmir of state 1 his vestments blaze with gold; on his head he wears the tiara. Beside him tiro borne the flabelli, or large fans, com posed of ostrich feathers in which are set the eye-like parts of peacock feathers, to signify the eyes or vigilance of tho church. Over him is borne a silk canopy, richly fringed. After officiating at mass at the high altar, the pope is, with the same cere mony and to the sound of music, borne back through the crowded church and then ascends the balcony over the cen tral doorway. Tliovo, riuing from bln chair of state, nnd environed by his principal officers, he pronounces a bene diction with indulgences and absolu tion. This is the most imposing of all the ceremonies at Rome at this season, and the concourse of people in the area in front of St Peter’s is immenso. Mark had not been near enough to get even one little peep into the cliurclu much as he should havo liked to see tho grand procession, the pope being car ried in his chair of state, and all the at tendant ceremonies, but he was now where ho could see tho final net and hear' he pronouncing of tho benediction, and for a few moments the cause of his beiDg there at all was forgotten and the flowers in his hand unheeded.] By this time the crowd was moving, some leaving and others, who had not been able to get into the church before, making their way there now, for there were many strangers among them who wished to witness the inner beauties of St. Peter’s. The choir was chanting loud and clear inside the church, and Mark was carried aloDg with tho stream of people until he found himself within the building. He had never been there before, and the exquisite beauty of the place almost overpowered him. The air woe heavy with incense and the perfume of flowers, and Mark sank down in the nearest seat tired nnd exhnustod with the pressure of the mass of the pcoplo outside. His flowers wero Btill unsold, nnd a drowsy feeling crept over him as ho sat there holding them, looking at the blossoms which hod been so fresh and beautiful an hour or two ago, lmt\vhich wero fad ing now. Gould he have fallen asleep there, un noticed by any ono ? It must linvo beon- for, when ho opened his eyes tho church was empty, except for ono old man who seemed to bo going mound putting things in order preparatory to leaving. How glad lie was ho had awakened be fore night came* on. But his Easter blossoms—whero wero thoy, and wlmt lmd become of the grand hopes of tho morning in regard to soiling them? The flowers wero surely in his hand when he sat down there, where lie lmd fallen asleop, but now they wore gono. Slowly risiug to go, reluctantly too, for ho thought now, perhaps, ho should havo to beg to get a little money for tho dear ones at home, he saw in flio seat boliind him n gentleman sitting, with Iris head bowed, n thoughtful expres sion on his face, and in his baud—yes I it certainly wns his own bunch of Easter blooms. At tho noiso Mark made in rising the strange gentleman looked lip, nnd tho thoughtful expression changed to a very kindly one, ns ho hold out tho flowers. “My boy," said ho (and Mark thuight thero was n little tremble in his voice), “why did yon sit thero sleeping, with these dear yellow blossoms in your hand?—for they are dear to me, nnd as I hnve been sitting here, waiting for you to awake, thoy havo whispered to mo of my far-off homo in Americn 1" That word was enough. Though Mark was too young- when ho left his native country to have any associations well up in his miud nt mention of its name, his lovo for it had been kept alive by his mother’s intense love of her home, nnd her eonstnnt endeavors lo keep around her something of tho old life. Tired, hungry and well-nigh dis couraged, poor littlo Mark hailed this kindly stranger ns heaven-sent, and sat there, telling him all the story of his lifo—his father’s sad death, his dear mothor’s present illness, and of the sweat littlo troubled sister at homo. How he wanted so badly to do some thing for them,-nml was so littlo able. The old man left at last, and they followed him. Taking Mark’s hand his new friend walked silently along by his side, Mark wondering where ho was going, until at last ho spoke. “ My boy, will you take mo homo with you that I may have a talk with your mother about tho home across tho sea and sco the littlo sister you lovo so well ?’’ Tho voice surely trembled now, and Mark wondered if this elderly, gray- haired gentleman had a sister, too, whom ho loved nnd could not sec be cause sho was fur aw’ay. They walked along together till they eamo to the row of poor houses whero Mark’s home was. “ It is only npoor place, sir, but we lived in a much prettier part of tho city when papa was alive.” “Yes, my boy, yes,” hastily said the stranger, and Mark wondered why ho brushed his hand across his eyes and held tho Easter blossoms, which he still kept, so close to his face. Two flights of stairs to climb and the room was reached. Mark soitly turned the handle of the door lest his mother should bo sleeping, but what was his delight to see her dressed and sitting in her ensy-clitir by the window, the mellow sunshine over her, nnd tho one flower he had loft for Amy to give her in lier hand. With a glad face ho was just going to introduce his now friend, but wlmt I was it possiblo his mother knew him ? A sound like a smothored sob, oml tho stout, grny-nairect gentleman was on his knees beside tho invalid’s chair, a murmur of “ Amy I" " Morris I” and then a silence. Little Amy and Mark crept softly out of the room, for they had seen a look of joy on mother’s face it had not worn in many a long day, and know all must be well. When they returned the gentleman was saying; “It was the Easter blos soms, Amy, that brought back to me as I sat in tho cathedral the old home- gniden, nnd the dear, blessed time when yon and I were like these youngs ters hero. The boy’s face as ho slept was so liko yours years ago that my heart told mo I lind found you again; and when I drew from him his story and heard his brave words I knew he was Jack Melton’s son. So poor Jack has gone, and I have never been able to get trace of you since, coming back from travel in the East, I found you had left America—never, till to-day, when these poor, faded flowers whispered their message to me of renewed hope. This is a glad Easter, indeed, to us all, is it not, children? Come, little Amy, and sit on Uncle Morris’ lap. It’s hard for you to realize that mother there was once a little fair-haired girl like you, and that the old gentleman who holds you was her boy brother, but it was so, and next Easter, God willing”—but a great sob of joy choked his voice, and thoy could only hear tho words—“Ens- tor blossoms and—home." CURRENT NOTES. The Scientific American expresses re gret that babies havo not n markot value like hogs. There is moro of solid fnct n tho suggestion than may appear nt first glauce. Children die in New York and other overcrowded citios as tho result of unhealthy, disease-breeding surroundings and close confinement in miserable and ill-ventilated tenements. Yot nothing is said about it ; while one- third tho dentils nmong hogs*from dis ease leads tho government to costly investigations and diplomatic corre spondence with foreign powers. Produce exchanges and tho nowspaper press grow excitod over trichinro or hog cholera, while tho epidemics that arc annually carrying off thousands upon thousftuds of precious littlo ones receive scarcely more than a passing notice, nnd are tho occasion of no agitation except in the bleeding lienrts of bereft parents, or in the minds of neighbors who sympnthizo or fear that thoir own mnv be tho noxt victims. FARM, GARDEN AND HOME. When an apothecary rocomiuends somo particular rornody for your cold, ho is not usurping tho function of a physician to a dnngorous extent. Ho may also give medical advice about your corns or yonrtoothneho without subject ing you to much risk of injury. Just so far ho ought to go in proscribing is a difficult question to sottlo. Tho Medical association and the College of Pharmacy of Washington havo fnllon out over it. Somo of tho pharmacists in that city havo taken it upon themselves to practice medicino ns well ns sell it, not hesitating to ileal with dangerous diseases. Tho dootors demand a law against this evil. Thoy further insist that a prescription shall not be made up a second time unless permission to repeat it is marked on tho papor. Their argument on this point is that tho uso of perilous drugs is often continued longer than tho physician intendod. Tho apothecaries reply that the doctors aro simply looking out for a multipli cation of fcos, nnd that somo pharma cists can euro an unimportant malady as woll as some physicians. A Washington correspondent, in a letter describing tho workings of tho postofllco department, says that tho postago stamps are manufactured under contract by ono of tho bnnk note com panies in New York city. This is dono under tho supervision of a government agont, nssistod by a corps of clerks stationed in tho factory. The dies from which tho stamps aro engraved aro owned by tho government, and are de livered to tho company each morning nnd returned to the agont each evening, who locks them in tho government safe. Au ndmirablo system of checks has boon adopted by which every sheet of blank paper delivered to the employes has to bo accounted for in finished, unfinished or spoiled stamps, nnd tho number of every impression takon from tho dies is registered by automatic machinery. A report of the condition of stock is furnished tho department each week. Tho styles of stamps at present issued comprise tho ordinary lotter stnmps in denominations of 1, 2, 3, 5, (5, 10, 15, 30 and 00 cents; otlicial stamps of a differont design and color for each department of tho values of those just given, except those for tho department of state, which also include denomina tions of $2, $5, $10 and $20; postage- due stamps of 1, 2, 3, 5, 10, 30 and 50 conts, and newspaper and periodical stamps for prepaying postago upon pub lications mailed to subscribers in de nominations of 2, 3, 4, 0, 8, 0, 10,12, 24, 30, 48, 00, 72, 84 and 00 cents and $1.92, $3, $0, $0. $12. $24. $30. SUX each. The envelopes are manufactured anil printed at Hartford, Conn., and the postal cards at Holyoko, Mass., a gov ernment agent being stationed at each place. The stamps, envelopes and cards are sent directly to tho postofflees throughout the country and from the respective agencies upon daily orders sent from the department at Washing ton. Diet for Walking. Homo time ago a pedestrian named Smyth, appearing under tho name of “The American Postman,” accomplish ed the task of walking three hundred miles in six days at Dublin. His regi men during the walk was as follows: He takes a small chop and somo cocoa for breakfast. In two hours afterward a raw egg beaten up. His dinner consists of a sago pudding and a small quantity of very raw beef, without drink, and his supper of as much cocoa and bread and butter ns he wishes. Each day he is al lowed a quait of milk and occasional sips of ginger ale. He takes no alco, holic boverage whatever. A cigarette machine, making over one hundred thousand per day—the work of sixty hands—has been invented by J. Cowman, of Now York. The machine is so perfect that it is estimated four teen of them would suffice to supply the entiro demand for (his country. I’nlntn Kxpcrliiirm. My experience in planting small and largo potatoos may throw Romo light upon this mooted quoBtion. Several years ngo I seleoted a pioee of ground, not very fertile in character, from which on tho previous yenr I had takon a crop of buckwheat. I plowed tho ground twico and furrowed, tho manure having boon previously hauled out and iled. I had the manure forked over thoroughly, putting a shovelful iu each hill, wit It alRO n small quantity of 1 plaster. 1 pursued this method until I ; liad manured ton rows of thirty hills j each. I carefully weighed tho seed plantod in each row, and also the po tatoes as harvested, with tho following results: First row: Hero I plantod five pounds of potatoos, giving three pieces to each hill. I secured a yield of seventy pounds of potatoes. Second row: I planted seven pounds in weight, using two wliolo potatoes of medium size to each hill. I harvostod seventy pounds. Third row: Planted three pounds of seed, using in each bill two pieces cut from middle-sized potatoes. Harvested flfty-oiglit and a half pounds. Fourth row: Four pounds planted, consisting of throo small, wliolo pota toes to each hill. Weight when dug, sixty-threo pounds. Fifth row: Planted two and a half pounds, using three very small, wliolo potatoos to each hill, giving but sixty pounds weight when dug at harvest. Sixth row: Used in planting twolvo and a half pounds, placing in each hill two halves of largo potatoes; yielding when dug sixty pounds. Sovonth row; Plantod four and a half pounds, or tliveo pieces to each hill, cut from largo potatoes. Weight at digging time sixty-threo pounds. Eighth row: Total woight planted thirteen pounds, dropping one largo, whole potato to each hill. Harvested oighty-flvo pounds. Ninth row: I planted in this row seven anil a half pounds, or throo pieces to each hill cut from stom end. Harvested seventy-five pounds. Tenth row: Five and one-half pounds planted, consisting for each hill of threo piecos cut from sprout end. I dug but ilfty-flvo poundsi Tho above formed but ono of several sots of accurate experiments, in ovory ono of which I am satisfied tho largo potatoes, when used as seed, produced tho largest amount and tho greatest quantity of sizable potatoes, showing to mo conclusively that “liko produces liko.”—L. O. Jirirwn, in Lul/ira/or, (Irapoi. Grape vines should be plantod in warm, dry, rich soil. Thoy will not snccoed in cold, wet, poor soil. They should not bo planted closer than six by eight, which allows forty-eight square foot to each. Tho cultivation should bo shallow, so as not to disturb the small roots near the surface. They should not bo allow ed to overbear, as it injures tho vines. Two or throo tons of grapes per aero are enough for vines four to five years old. Wo liavo sometimes taken doublo that amount, but injured the future crops by so doing. In planting dig holes twelve to fif teen inches deep, and of a size amply large to accommodate the vine. Thoy should then be filled to within six to eight inches of tho top witli fine, rich soil, throwing in while doing so a few bones or some wood ashes, if to be had. Cut back onc-year vines to two oyes, placing tho lower one below the sur face. Spread out the roots (which should have previously had one-half their lpnatl) out nfiT). r 1 --—a 11 — of tho vine at one end of tho hole, and fill with fine soil, pressing it firmly about them. When planted, set a stako at the stock, to which the plant should be kept tied and which will be all the support required for two years. Keep old wood trimmed off, growing the fruit on new canes. Any manner of prun ing in tho fall or winter that will ad mit the sun to the fruit will insure a ciop of fruit; and laying the vines on the ground, even without covering, will increase both the quality of the fruit and the size of the bunches, besides in suring the safety from injury by frost. For mildew, dust with flower of sulphur while tho vines ore wet. There are various modes of planting recommended by different authors. Each grower can select for himself. The following plan has proven satisfac tory here, viz: First Year—The plants were eight feet distant, in rows six feet apart, and but one cane allowed to grow up a pole. Second Year—Trellises were erected by planting posts eight feet long, set two feet deep and eight feet apart in the rows, with one rail (two by three inches) on top of the posts and another fastened two feet from the ground, with wires extending from the lower to the upper rail, about ten inohes apart, to support the young vines. The cane which grew the first year was cut oven with the lower rail, and only the two upper buds 'Vn'&LiL allowed to grow, one in each direction, along the lower rail. Third year—Each of tho canes which grew the second yenr was cut off about threo nnd a half feet long, and one cane trained to grow up each wire, the later als or side branches being removed as thoy made their appearance during the summer. Fourth Year—Tho top of every other upright enuo was cut off even with the op rail and allowed to produce fruit.t The alternate canes wero cut short near tho arm by tho lower rail, from the bnso of which a strong cane grew up, to produco fruit, tho following year* Fifth Year—Tho canes that produco fruit tho preceding year should be removed, and allow a new growth from its bnso to be made for fruiting the fol lowing year, and so alternately remov ing tho wood that has borne fruit to give place for a new cane to produce fruit tho following year. Tho object in pruning is to control tho growth of the vine, so that its strength shall be properly divided be tween ripening the present crop of fruit nnd producing a strong, healthy growth of wood with well-developed buds for fruiting another year. Hence the error of talcing an over-crop of fruit at tho exponso of a proper growth of wood. Tho nbovo method of training and prun ing answers well, is simple, and an or dinary hand can do tho work after onco boing showing how.— William Parry, Cinnamimon, AT. J. Household lllnlo. To fix penoil marks so they will not rub out, tako well skimmed milk and di lute with an equal bulk of water. Wash the pencil marks (whether writing or drawing) with the liquid, using a' soft, flat camel's-hairbrush, and avoiding all rubbing. Place it upon a flat board to dry. Itis said two parts tallow and ’one of resin, melted together and applied to the soles of new boots or shoes, as much os tho leather will absorb, will double their wear. Woodwork strongly impregnated with tungstate of soda or silicate of soda—by treatment in strong aqueous solution of theso salts—will bo found to bo quite uninflammable. Brush silk with a piece of cotton vel vet rolled uptight. For washing pour a pint of boiling water on a tablespoon- ful of ulcohol. Let it stand till tepid and sponge tho goods with it. Silk neckties can be washed in rain water, to ono pint of which add a tea spoonful of white lionoy and one of hartshorn. Do uot squeeze but let thorn drip, nnd when nearly dry press betwoen folds of cloth. When water has once been made to boil tho fire may bo very much lessen ed, as but littlo heat is required to koep it at a boiling point. There is no ad vantage whatevor in making water boil furiously; tho heat will escape in steam, without raising tho heat of tho water. A Card-Collecting Mania. A leading feature of young America is that the boys and girls always have a mania for collecting something. First it is foreign postago stamps, next birds’ eggs nnd then buttons; and so on through a long list of articles that are collectiblo. Tho latest craze is that for collecting illuminated business cards; and judging from the way in which it has taken with tho younger elemont it is safe to say that for a yenr at least it will bo the uppermost of all the fnsh- ionnble crazes. It has taken root in every city and town in the country, it would appear, and in the larger cities the lithograph establishments are driven night nnd day in turning out the cards, and designers are at their wit’s cuiu uu jnuuuce someuiing new ana so much of n novelty that the collectors will think they must have it. Tho cards are put up in sets and range in price from ten cents to $1 a set. Boston has the fever the worst way, many of tho papers of that city having special de partments for the advertising of the cards. In one issue of the Boston Herald recently there were forty-five different advertisements of card dealers offering their wares through the mails. Here in Hartford the rago not only in cludes the children bnt takes in lots of grown people, and collections number ing several thousand varieties are spoken of. One young man on Asylum Hill has just received from England cards that cost several dollars each. The mer chants, many of them, are taking ad vantage of the fever by a free dissemin ation of the merits of their stocks, while others fail to see any advertisement in it, and place a notice on their doors which says “no cards.” The school girls trip along from sohool with their card albums clutched tightly under their arms, probably having traded several duplicates with schoolmates during the session. It has its effects on the mails, too, by a noticeable inereaso in the amount of mail matter. While it can hardly have the advantages pos sessed by the stamp-colleoting mania, it may be as harmless and inexpensive. —Hartford Courant, m - j M m m m