Illinois News Index

McHenry Plaindealer (McHenry, IL), 29 Mar 1882, p. 6

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BY W«»A r**a*. I Walks Jwyrmd me fair and 1 As jma fair ship bej-ond the bar Btsitdt CBt to sea, or, in delay, At anchor rldea, day aft«r day. DV fcfter day before my eyes, J Oft out of reseh, the white •» Just nut of reach, day after day. i ^ • ^ « I ilv» U» J m m ws. * «I .4~ <• » • - i tUi she leiya and hoi* IMF **7, :vfM $1 t !l« I - ̂ { - -J r :V«1 Who holds and sways my baart, ttlltfl Within my eonl some tender thrill Wake* into life, and I fopgfct > A Moment tfeea the gulf that i ,v^§ . Between us lies the awlllng r«? " That separates my ove from me. « ,%i My lov« ! W.th bnVd breath I BUM « . Her thus, yet e'en thua <1ara not prochlh To her. before whom others ktMML The ttroee of paM-ton that I foflfc ^ And yet--and 3 et, day after dak... ». She lead* rut on with looks thai :**y * What qjeech denies, with atnUea that prtafc ° My armor tbrough, through leaden thiols. ,v The daughter of a regnant Quaan, " ' •?. « ' My PrinceM fair, doth she demean ••A#*'*? *t> Her high estate, stoop from her pteoa, "SS-rt#** *? To lene a victim by b)>r grace } • Er'n while this doulit a>«aileth Baa, , Amidst the oourtly throng I we#- • ' Ae^at** ) . i ^*TEHE7'<•* * *•» that for an instant there . • -jr.* ,'?•** Seems touched with some divihe despair-- * ^ » A look of human need and loss That like a shadow flits acroas « ****•• *' .The eyes whos« ernile hut yesternight ' P' ':j0m 'M Rhone with a bright, alluring light. 4." "• Anothew moment, down the room ' Her gay iaugti liugs. I catch the blooia *•* "*n Of Hidden row* on her ehe*k; -Imeet her glanoe: I hear her speak In jesting words--the old light way. ' . »wr who doesn't. I like ST think I shall suoceed ib ti. '< What 4o/ou meaa by jraooeadfn " I think I ahall make t Utile name for myself and be well thought of by mr fellow*workers in time, and that I shall be able to lead my own life in my own way." .psi ,3^ 'AW' '*$» ."Ml i But down the txirn the harper* ; WlM waltsefi, wiMi a dyiag fall In erery note, a plaintive call . Of passionate entreating pato * Inwoven with each mirthtol lUMb v. I listen, and remember there ' The face touched with flirine deapai*-- I listen, lifting up my heart; I look, where near and yet apart * * - * 5 S h e h o l d s h e r w a y a f a r f r o m A e -- |MN . Afar yet near; T look, sod Fee . , My love, though seas may roll betWeaa I . ,1, My own, though kingdoms stand bet a si jit*'! •If :! ' •• • FOR LOVE'S SAKiB.' t V;ft# - , *#"* -v*»u p.i'fW p ... wk ?\ -»> ;«~.~u • •-*<> , }• ft&i >X r v; ' ,.*• i" if . « John Jackson Jretnmed, after A year's absence, to Wyeland, lie found that both his ancient homo and hkn?ei! had undergone more changes than he knew. The place atrnek npon Mm with a changed aspect, and had no answering welcome to give that which he extended to it. There were new names above the low-browed doors in the straggling High street, and new faces beneath them. The -,deep peace of the once tranquil fields which ringed the lit-' tie town was troubled by the incursions of navigator and collier. Coal had been found upon the Heath estate, and black­ ened pit- frames and heajis of unsightly refuse made hideous the heart of rural solitude. The purling brook in which he had bathed as a lad was now an evil-smell­ ing sewer. Many of his old acquaint­ ances, at whom his heart leaped, failed to recognize him, and were painfully in­ different in* their greetings when his identity was ireaalied to their minds. His old sweethearts were all either mar­ ried or engaged,, and, oppressed by the dignity of present or coming matron- hood, would flirt no more. Some were wad. All tuSSS thlu^B ntwluoiitru Mm, and the happy boyhood of three abort yean ago seemed to be centuries 'away. " I really do feel dreadfully old," lie •Aid to hit cousin Amy, .as they sat to­ gether in the dusk, M qu t > patriarchal I must have known Adam and Noah, Mid been a personal friend of Abraham* «ay I've forgotten alt about them. Everything here is so altered; both place and people seem changed com­ pletely. As I remember myself, three jaath ago, §i was rather a favorite here, Wl now nobody seems to remember or to take any interest in me. I suppose it is stupid, though natural, to expect to fttld things as you left them." *' And do you find me changed?" •eked Amy, . . f'ifore than anybody or. anything . • - » Not disagreeably, I hope ?" - *' Not disagreeably at all. Quite the ttOKitrary. You were a girl when I left Jfou, and now you are a woman--and a £ ffqry pretty woman, too. Amy." •1" --b 1" said the girl, with a laugh ajul » » half sigh, "you are not' changed. I i ABe." I am afraid I am, though," answered . John, " The three years that have )aade a woman of you iia^e made a man , of toe. One is a man at throe and twen­ ty, I suppose ?" " I suppose so," said Amy, with an- ^ier sign. •« Ah t 'the dett old days! We shall never see them again, Jack f" it t" We may see happier. Amy, though tHey will be spent apart." V He could not see the painedlook upon *' • fife companionVface as she looked trv \ - "*l ' *ward him through the gathering dusk, '• 'and, in his dintraetiou, aid" not notice ;', " rA '.l»r quickened breathing. ' , " Why should they be spent apart?" - m ^e asked, presently. " Could not your work be as well done here as in Lon- .• 3#JU»« - #n?" i c sift «» f Quite as well. Perhaps better." e. " Then why not stay ? Oh, Jack, don't refuse ! The house and the farm axe my own, now unole has gone. You know how welcome you are. I have more than I can ever want. Mr. Samp­ son says the last vear's income was over S?x hundred. What can I do with all that? Stay here, Jack, and let us re- . ,/jnve old times." . s i " No, Amy. Don't think me proud or «ngratefuL But I must not be a pentton- feven on your bounty, and tbafris whait would--" "Jack 1" said the girl, in a pained tooe,. v " That is what it would be, Amy; there is no other name for it. No; I must go back to Loudon and work. I 0Sn see my way to bread cheese #pw, and shall get something better, I TM>pe, in a little time." The girl rose from her seat and paced ^fberootn. ' " Jack," she broke out passionately, w I can not heir it. When I think of you toiling and slaving for bare life in fV . liondon while I live in comfort here, fi I- every crust I eat and every thread I 'mar bought by money that should be J I »»urs, I feel as if I should go mad with I ' ^ t£^me and an«er- » is shameful! ? What right had your father to beggar ? > you to make me rich? I can't livo here y .?< KPk.» %, , # . " You are far too sensible, Am v, I am to do anything so ridiculous. And * .Whatever may have been my father's "j- " feelings regarding me, I believe he did V * the best thing possible in leaving the farm to you. Nothing but poverty 4 * 'T-m,a ever have ma^e me work. I am 5"®ine'1Me in the •orid as it is, and ,' vliall be more some day." >1 „ * a girl returned to her --* and for ««>me little time. 'Then * ^..tipe askad : '4# 70111 pLlIU ̂ Tonr ̂ e in ^ s*&,"Ti,OT® i® not maeh to ieU. My fftams are simply to go on working till I *'Y«ur ambition is more modest than it used to be. Jack." " Yes," answered Jack, with a sad -,'!j smile, "a good deal more modest. I don't know anything better that oould happen to a man w1u> suflFered under too high a notion of his abilities than to be thrown on his resource^ in the London press world. One can t turn a corner without coming across a dozen cleverer fellows than one's self. A man who starts with such ambitions as I had when I started, and who keeps them after such a three years' experience as I have had, is pretty likely, I should say, to be worthy of his own opinion." "Have you many friends in Lon­ don?" "I believe I have as many friends, Amy, as any man who ever lived; real friends, I mean. I shall never be able to repay the kindness I have received from some of them. They are splendid fellows. Most of them might be more moral, and all of them might be more industrious ; but they could not be more generous, more helpful, more happy in their frieiida' success. I believe firmly, Amy, that if you want friendship and all the virtures it breeds, you must come to Bohemia for them. I don't want to disparage respectability, but it does $eem to me that directly a man begins to pay income tax he loses his sympa­ thies." " I have heard that theory before," &&U1 Amy. ** Bat yon may find friend­ ship outside Bohemia, Jack. I don't know that my sympathies have degen­ erated at all, although I pay inoome tax, or, at least, Mr. Sampson pays it for me." ( V. "Ton will never be anything but what yon have always been* Amy, the dearest girl ih the world." • rtm :• "•*-«! * • >f •yJ • •:< • ":4i •Simple and chivalrous soul as he was, he could not have conceived a more cruel torment than the tone of voice and form of words wherein he spoke. Gratitude and tender regard and playful affection were all expressed there, and yet the tears welled up in the girl's heart as she listened, and, but that they were held resolutely back, would have dimmed the eyes that regarded their idol through the fast-gathering gloom. She was silent, fe'iring to trust her voice --and Jack, too, held his peace for a little time. " You were always my confidante in the old time, Amy," he said presently. " A man must have somebody to* tell his secrets to, at least I must, and should really like to tell you a little story." She waited, more than ever afraid to speak, and he went on, taking her filence for consent : " You have heard of Mrs. Farnaby, the authoress ? A Mend of hers took me to one of her evening receptions and introduced me, and she was kind enough to-give me a standing invitation foY tqe season. It was the one house that was open to me in London, and I cannot teii you how dear those evenings were' to me, and how thev stood out from the but she begged me to believe that any renewal of my proposal would only ia- oreaao J&er trials. I tanged to offer her assistance^ bat I dared not do it, and •he left me, begging me to make no at­ tempt to follow her. .For days after I haunted the spot on which we parted, and at last I saw her. She told me she had seciued an engagement as companion to a maiden lady, and she left London next day. I renewed my pleadings-- still in vain. I asked for a souvenir-- some little trifle by which to remember her--and she gave me a photograph. I have never seen her since." There was silence for a moment brok­ en only by the twitter of the leaves ^n the garden without "A woman worth loving," said Amy, when she could trust her Vdiee. He heard the words, and knew noth­ ing but what they told him. Filled with his own thougnts, he had none t<» read the heart of the woman who spoke--and speech is surely, in many ways, the weakest dialeot of human lan­ guage. # *' Haw you the photograph with you ?" she asked, presently. He took it from his pocket and gave it into her hand, which trembled a little 88 sbe took it. She walked to the win­ dow to examine it by the faint light that yet filtered through the leaves. " What is her name ?" she asked. "I shall never speak her name sgain. Amy. Do not ask me." " Car je l'aime trop pour que i«4la Qui j'oaefcimar, « Et ,1e veux* mourir poor ma mle °. „ * 8ans la poinmer,' • quoted Amy, with an attempt at a laugh Which was hardly a success. " But $up- pose I know it ?" "How oould yon know it?" asked Jack. v " Because, I am a witch," answered Amy, "and knowevery thing. "Come, will you tell me or shall I tell you ?" "Tell me." "What do yon say to Ada Stanley?" Jack rcfee to his feet thunderstruck ; but before he could speak a light step was heard advancing along the gravel of the garden path, and a female form darkened the window. " The lady herself," continued Amy. " just in the nick of time. . Miss Ada Stanley, Mr. John Jackson." A light kn£>e;k came at the door, and a neat and rosy-cheeked country lass ent­ ered the room, bearing in her hand a lamp. She was followed by a middle- aged man, tall and strongly built, and dressed in dark gray broadcloth. A no­ ticeable man, with a peculiar set expres­ sion on his face. . "Good evening, Mr. Tescam," said Amy. " You kijow my cousin, I think." Mr. Tescam bowed and extended his hand toward John, who took it mechan­ ically, without removing his eyes from Ada, who stood trembling jnst within the window. " I was just thinking of taking a stroll in the garden, Mr. Tescam," went on Amy; " if you wtfUld favor me with your arm, I've no doubt my cousin and Mian Stanley will be able to amuse them­ selves for a little time without our help." The stranger offered his arm with a formal and rather old-fashioned court­ esy, and they left the room together and passed up tne garden walk in silence. They reached the rustic bench beneath the drooping branches of an aspen, and rest of the dreary wtoek. One night I } here Amy quitted her companion's arm found myself seated next to a young lady whom I had not seen before. She struck me particularly by reason of a strong likeness I saw, or fancied I saw, in her to you. I spoke to her on some commonplace topic, and we fell into a conversation that lasted the whole even­ ing, until she went away in the company of an elderly lady, who seemed to be her chaperone, or guardian, or companion, whatever the phrase is. She was there the next night and every night after, and we were there together a good deal. I assure you honestly, Amy, that until the Season came to a finish, Mrs. Faxa» aby's receptions ceased for the year, I had no notion of my real feelings toward the girL But it struck me* suddenly, as I was dressing for the last of the eyen- ings, that I was in love with her. I went to the house with the intention of doing something decisive--what, I did not know myself. She did not come." I waited the whole evening, hoping for her appearance, long after all reasonable chance had! passed, and at last went home feeling as I had nevtir felt before. I could not work or sleep for thinking of her. "Nearly four luOums passed before I saw her again. I«was walking in the Re­ gent's park, late one afternoon in De­ cember. There was half-frozen 1 and took her seat. You have something to say to me, she said wearily. All the spnghtlineiss of a moment ago had vanished. "Yes," said Mr. Tescam, slowly. "I have something to say to you which is soon said; I have Come to say 'good- •>7. " She could see that th^ set expression of his face, dimly discernible through- the evening gloom, had deepened, and that the hand which held the lappel of his coat clutched it hard. " Why good-by ?" she asked. "Itis best,5" he said simply, struggling hard with some powerful passion which he could scarce express. 4t So long as I remain here, so long as I see you, I must speak, and I know that there is no hope; I must get away from you and fight it down. I am trembling now, only at the pressure of your hand upon my arm, the sound of your voice." ! The clutching fingers tightened in ! their grasp as if they would have stilled j the beating of the heart below, j "When I think," he went on, with his gathering passion battling with the j strong restraint he had put upon him- | self; " when I think that another suitor might appear who should be more for­ tunate and who should become to you all cemoer. mere was lialf-trozen snow t that I dream, day and night, of being to ™ the and more in the sky jou; when I think that I should stand w £ £ n i n f8 tkm^ng aTbo°' !% an<l see you happy in his love, fauponaS ^rsi*f bis children, I feel as if I should tried to drive her torn "v Xd Sj , U thinking of a story I was writine at tlM his successful ri^ whom hi. writing at the could think thinking hn^hpr Thf> ni^ nothing I jieate^ imagination had conjured up but her. The night was dosmg m, and j Btood before him m veritable flesh and blood, as he stood there with extended . - • ft* fig11 * comfortable living for my sell, ~'r- *k' * 18 hajfpy enough. least learned the I have at •ecret. that the than the a** •JU S - s a park-keeper came and told me that the gates would Boon be closed and I must go. As I rose to obey, a woman's figure fluttered by me. The light was dim under the trees, and she passed quickly at some distance. But 1 knew her. It was she--the girl I had lost. " I could not tell you, Amy, how the story she told moved me. It was a common-place story enough, I suppose. Her aunt, the lady who had accompan­ ied her to Mrs. Farnaby's, had lost the income on which they had lived by a piece of heartless rascality. The injus­ tice was so flagrant that I cannot con­ ceive how the law of any country could countenance it. But legal redress was impossible, according to the highest opinions, and they were ruined. They had never been rich, but they had had enough for comfort, and now they were reduced to oomplete poverty and were subsisting as best they could. Afar- j aWay relative had discovered them--a I successful man of business with whom j they had never had any communication for many years. He had offered them • assistance, and for some time their bur - ! den had been greatly lightened by his j aid, though they still worked for ; themselves and preserved their iude- I pendence as much as they could. Their i relative's help had been continued for I some time, they suspecting no ulterior j motiye, when one dity he proposed to 1 the aunt for the hand of the girl. The j auiit made no definite reply, merely promising to use her influence 011 his behalf. The wan refused--a.ul re- fust'd, I Aniv, for 111 y ««k<*--and he withdrew his assistance and left them to fight their way as best they could, ohe told me all this quietly and calmly as we walked together. I can tell you what she said, but what actor could hope to imitate the calm, despairing resigna­ tion of her voice 'and manner? I told h^r that if she would put her destiny into my hands she should never know a want I could supply. I told her that I loved her, and had loved her since the first moment I had seen her. I pleaded hard--all in vain. Her place, she said, was with her aunt, to wliom she owed everything, and she would never consent to cripple me by adding the burden of their poverty to my owe. I argued against her resolution--all lus vain. She was adamant. Sbs said, frankly and «**y . m»* M*R*f my J * - m mr. hands clenched before him,his life would not have been worth a pin's purchase. With a stong effort he controlled him­ self and went on after a vain attempt to moisten his dry lips with his drier tongue. "Yon see," he said. "If the mere thought of such things has such an ef­ fect upon me what would their reality be? I must go aw^y and leave you. It is the only thing to be done. I have no right to persecute you with my pro­ testations, and so long as I remain here 1 must speak." He paused, perhaps expecting some answer, but she was silent. "Good-by," he said, extending his hand. "What if I will not say good-by ?" He withdrew his hand with a quick batch of his breath. "What if I asked yon not to go, but to remain?" Again he made no answer, but stood looking at her through the dark, breath­ ing heavily. " I do ask you to remain," she said, rising, " aud to forget the answer I have gi*» n you." She had expected some wild outbreak of passion in answer to these words. But all he did was to throw one arm about and press her to the heart whose quick .Jthrob was audible in the utter stillness of the night, .and so for a mo­ ment they stood. " There is one thing of which I must warn you," Amy continued. " If I come to you, it is with no more than the clothes I wear. 1 do not do you the in­ justice to think that you love me for what you think I shall bring you ; but I must, in justice to myself and you, tell you this. This property is mine so long as I remain single. When I marry it ?asses to the next of kin, John Jackson. ou knew my uncle, and how strange his ideas were upon mauy subjects. If you choosfc to take me, penniless as I am. I am yours." He bent over her, mnrmuring inartic­ ulate words of passionate love,, What did he oare for lands or money ? "I have enough for both," lie mld. " Let it go without another thought." " Egad," said a voice, at which they both started. "I m to auk rf the frying-pan into the firs." . "Good evening, Mr. Qu«dMag," said Amy, calmly. "You couldn't have come at a luckier moment*" " I am glad to hear it,* returned Mr. Quodling, with t* short fat laugh. " I was beginning to think I was very much in the way. There's a couple in the parlor, your cousin John and Miss Stan- fey, in a state of most complicated mis­ ery, chiefly due, I think, to my appear- auoe. So I relieved 'em of my company and came out here ; and, by Jove I what quarter's the moon in, Tescam ?" Mr. Quodling was the one solicitor and land surveyor of the district, nnd was a widower and misogynist, having expended the whole of his admiration of the fair sex, at. least according to local report, upon the composition of the epi­ taph of Mrs. Quodling. deceased. "Mr. Tescam." said Amy, ignoring the solicitor's flippancy, " has done me the honor to request my hand." (Mr. Quodling whistled.) "I have accepted his proposal, and have informed him of tie clause in my uncle's will whioh pro­ vides that the property I at present hold goes, on my marriage, to my next of kin, my cousin John, of course." Mr. Qnodling stared blankly at the speaker. > " Mr. Tescam is quite oontent with the arrangement," proceeded Amy, with a calmly business-like aspect; "so that yen will consider the matter settled and take the necessary steps." " Why, what ou earth " began Quodling, with a bewildered face; but Tescam cut him short. "Misp Jackson has stated the case quite correctly," said he, " and I hope there will be no more delay than neo- 08S&TV *' " But I protest," said Mr. Quodling, "against my client robbing herself in " "Don't trouble yourself to protest at all, Mr. Quodling," said Amy. Then in a rapid undertone: "Be quiet and say nothing. What business is it of yours ?" CJhe moved away with Tescam, and left Quodling plante leu " Is the woman mad?" gasped the law­ yer, "or is it a dream? There's no such Erovision in the will at all--J know it by eart." He stopped as though struck by an idea which aided him in the solution of the difficulty, "Well, I'm blessed! this is a goP* he exclaimed. And, having thus relieved his feelings, he followed the couple into the house. " J ack," said Amy, as she entered on Tescam's arm, "I have something to tell you which concerns us both. Sit still, Ada--I am by no means sure that it doesn't concern you too." With this preface she repeated what she had already communicated to the lawyer, upon whom Jaek turned for as­ surance. Mr. Quodling, with his hands thrust to the bottom of his pockets and his eyes examining the ceiling, backed Amy's statement with the internal addi­ tion, "Lord, forgive me ! " Jack sat glaring about .him, stunned by his sudden accession in fortune. "Am I mad? " he asked, unwittingly quoting Mr. Quodling. "Oh, no," replied that worthy, "yon are not mad," He bestowed a glssss on Amy, as though to say, " That way madness lies,"and turned his eyes again to the ceiling. Jack crossed the room to where Ada sat, the color of a peony, and took her hand. " Amy, "he said, " confidence for con­ fidence ; you have introduced me to your future husband. ,, Let me make known to you--my future wife."--Belgravia. The Harem of the Wealthiest Turk is tdremlt We remflSnjra several days In ISciremit, while preparing for the ascent of Mount Ida, and made excursions in the suburbs, which consist chiefly of olive groves and cemeteries. On the smooth roads that wound under the olives we always me* a variety of travelers--Turkish gentlemen on horseback, attended by a train of ser­ vants ; officers of the army, finely mounted; caravans of camels, gypsiet driving trains of pack mules, and farmers in their rude carts with solid wheels drawn by oxen or buffaloes. Late one afternoon in a retired grove we were con­ fronted by the harem of the wealthiest Turk in Edremit, returning from a neighboring town. The carriage held the more elderly ladies, bujt the younger ones, to the number of about half 8 dozen, were mounted man fashion on spirited horses, each of which was at­ tended by a Greek servant. They were dressed in white robes, which draped but did not oonceal the form.; and the yashmaks or veils which tbey wore were not transparent like those of the beau­ ties of Constantinople, for the traditions of, the harem are still respected in the in­ terior of the land. At sight of us, the portly matrons in the carriage quickly covered their faces, but the young Cir­ cassians in the saddle, slender girls ol eighteen or twenty, returned full upor us the dazzling pomp of their beauty, that singular beauty which dwells ix cold feature, haughty spirit, and still, luminous eyes.--New York Times. rui VOTES. Too Hmart to Live. A dry-goods house advertised for a smart boy, and they got him. They put the smart boy behind the counter. The following is the conversation that passed between him and his first costomer: Customer (Picking up a pair of gloves): " What are these ?" Smart boy--"Gloves." Customer--"Yes, yes; but what do you ask for them?" Smart boy--" We don't ask for them at all; customers do that." Customer--"You don't understand me. How do they come?" Smart boy--"Why they come in pairs, of course." Customer--"No, no; how high do they come?" Smart boy---"Just above the wrist, I believe." Customer--" But. what do you get for them ?" Smart boy--"Me? I don't get nothing for them. Boss pockets all the money." Customer (losing patience)--" What is the price of these gloves per pair?" Smart boy--"O, that's yer lay, is it? Why didn't yon say so afore? One dollar." . That smart boy is too smart to exhale his smartness is a dry-goods store. He should go to Congress right oft--Toledo Saturday American. & > Score One for the Boy. A little boy, residing in a town in this State, annoyed his parents by fre­ quently running away from home. One. day the mother sharply reproved him, and closed her words of admonishment by remarking: " Only bad little boys run away from home." The little fel­ low pondered over this a moment and then said : " Well, mamma, Jesus ran away when he was a little boy."--Bos­ ton Post, No PATENT required to catch the rheum­ atism. A cold and inattention to it, and yon have it--the Anaaim. We earn ours with St. JaoofasOIL--OMoof MmUr Qcnim. A«MW tax on olsossargarine would be a measure of tile greatest popularity. IN BCBOPE 1,600,000 acres are devoted to beet cultivation. ' APPLES placed among the«n«ilage in a certain silo were well' preserved. Cattle food may thus be varied by preserved fruit placed m the silo. THE greater consistency of the excre­ ments from ensilage fodder shows that the material is prepared in the silo for digestion by the softening of the cells. ABOUT 250,000 bushels of leached ashes were imported direct from Canada, in 1881, by Cdhnecticut parties for fertil­ izers, at a cost of seventeen cents per bushel. ONE of the latest theories advanced is that apples are more nutritious than po­ tatoes, and in Cornwall, England, work­ men say that they can work better on the fruit than the vegetable. ESTIMATING nitrogen at 22} cents per pound, potash at 7 cents, and phosporio acid at 9 cents, the Connecticut Agricul­ tural Experiment Station states the com­ mercial worth of night soil at 30 cents per hundred pounds, or $6 per ton, as the most favqrable reckoning. THB specific gravity of milk,.if it is the mixed yield of a number of cows, ranges from 1.029 to 1.033 at 59° F.; but the milk of a single cow, in rare oases, may rangfl from 1.027 to 1.036. With a specific gravity of 1.030, one quart of milk will weigh 2 pounds and 3 ounces. The determination of the specific gravity and fat is the most ready means of de­ ciding whether the milk is pure or adul­ terated. AN EXPERIENCED farmer writes con­ cerning the most suitable weather for sowing grass seeds that a fine day should be chosen when the land is tolerably dry, but when there are indications of approaching rain. Such conditions are much niore favorable for sowing seeds than during rainy or showery weather, for, in the first instance, the seeds are more likely to be evehly cov­ ered, and will be gradually absorbing moisture from the soil previous to the next fall of rain, which they will be in a condition to receive with benefit. Whereas, if sown after a shower, as is too frequently done, the above advan­ tages are not obtained, but after the seeds have been saturated with moist­ ure the dry weather returns, and they become "malted." THE prizes won by Vermont boys in 1881 in competition for the awards offered by the University of Vermont and State Agricultural College, through the generosity of ex-Gov. Smith, have been declared. The conditions of the trial were the same as those. of the former trial in 1880, and show a substan­ tial advauce, the first prize winners ob­ taining five bushels more of corn and sixty bushels more of potatoes to the acre than the best ol the former year's figures. Twenty-five young farm­ ers obtained yields of over eighty bush­ els of corn and over 250 bushels of po­ tatoes to the acre, and the yields range . from these figures up to the really remarkable one of 127 bushels of corn and 552 bushels of potatoes to the acre ! The latter result, at the prices obtained for potatoes, would represent a return of over $300 per acre. The first prize on corn was won by Thomas B. Purely of Manchester; the' first on potatoesby Frank C. Ayer of Goshen. BR. BAILEY says a great amount of labor is lost by sowing fodder corn too thick, as well as a large amount lot seed/ wasted. Many sow three bushels to the acre; some sow but two buehels.'flfed a few sow but one. I BOW but one-half bushel, and my corn is always too thick. The man who nas raised the largest crop the past season sowed but twelve quarts of seed to the acre. Make the drills at least four feet apart, and sow one-half bushel of ensilage seed-corn to the acre; then, when it is about a foot high, thin it to six and e»ght inches between stocks. When corn is planted too thick, those plants which do not attain their full growth are nothing more than weeds. As dirt is only matter out of place, so a weed is only a plant out of place. No plant is so far out of place as when it is crowded by other plants of the same kind so that its growth is impaired; it then becomes a mere weed, and only serves to injure the growth of the proper number of plants in the hill or drill. PROFESSOR KNAPP, of the Iowa Agri­ cultural College, in reference to the sor­ ghum sugar industry, says sugar of ex­ cellent quality can be made in a common sap pan and in paying quatities. The cane crop is sure--the most so of any Iowa field crop; the yield is uniform and of excellent quality; there remains then but three questions of consid­ erable importance in the develop­ ment of the sorghum sugar industry : L Economical manufacture of the syrup. 2. Removal of the sorghnm flavor. 3. The increase of the sugar yield la pro­ portion to the syrup. The first has been practically settled in favor of steam for crushing and evaporation. By the aid of steam syrup is manufactured for ten cents per gallon, at a greater profit than at twenty-five cents ou the old sap pah. The removal < f the sorghum flavor in some simple and effective way is the next step to be taken. All the methods hitherto practiced are open to more or less objec­ tion. This and the increase of the sugar yield are matters of the highest im­ portance. Few industries are so full of promise ; even the present product of 600 pounds of sugar and ninety gallons of syrup per acre furnish remuneration and profit to toil; this, however, is but the commencement in an industiy which has the world for a market. THE following account of the first im­ portations of live stock into the United States is taken from an old copy of the JHshFarmers' Gazette: "In 1610four cows and a bull were,. after a long and dangerous passajge by sailing vessel, landed/n Virginia from Ireland. These were the first domestic cattle seen in America. In 1625 eighteen ewes and two rams were introduced as a novelty into New York by the Dutch West India Company. The first horses landed in any part of North America were carried over to Florida by Cabeca de Vace in 1527: they all perished. The wild horses found on the plains of Texas and the Western pradrie are probably descendants of the Spanish horses abandoned by De Soto. In 1625 part of the trade of the Dutch West India Company was the carry­ ing of horses from Flanders to New York, j and that year six mares and a horse were safely transported from France to Amer­ ica. The London Conupapy were the first exporters of swine from Britain to America; and in the year 1621 they carried on their vessels no le^s than eighty-four, which were vll, on landing, allowed to roam at large, and feed and fatten on the mast which was verv abundant, in the woods. They increased so fast that in 1627 the colony was in danger of being overrun with them ; but the Indians acquiring a taste for fresh pork, and the novelty of hunting hogs, that calamity was averted. So import­ ant was it considered at that time that the cattle, horses and sheep introduced into the infant colony should be allowed to increase, that the Governor issued an order prohibiting the killing of domestic animals of any kind, on paw of death to the principal, and to the-aider, abettor or accessory. In 1739 horned cattle, horses and sheep had increased to 30, • 000. In 187S* there were over 40,000,000 sheep, 30,000,000 eattle (of whieh over 12,000,000 were milch cows) 15.000,000 horses, 2,000,000 mules and 30,000,000 swine in the United States;" HOUSEHOLD HELPS* [OMtcllMlted t« the Wlroit Free Prota " 3row)ioll"% Honsakerpt-i % nod the results of actual experiment*.) CIDER CAKE.--One cup of butter, two cups BUgar, one cup cider, three cups flour, four eggs, two oups raisins and currants mixed, one teaapoonful yeast powder. SOUR MILK PANCAKES.--One quart of sour milk, one teaspoonful of soda dis­ solved in hot water, a little salt, one egg, add flour and mix to the consistency of thick cream. They are very nice. LEMON .TUMBLES.--One egg, one-half teacup butter, three teaspoonfuls milk, two teaspoonfuls baking powder, two small lemons (juice of two and grated rind of one) ; mix rather stiff; roll and cut out with a cake-cutter. LETTUCE SALAD.--Cut up a head of lettuce very fine, then make a dressing of one cup vinegar, half teaspoonful mustard, one of sugar, add - a little salt and pepper if liked. Place slices of hard boiled eggs over the top. COMMON CAKE.--(Nice for children.) Bake ginger cake in tins as for jelly cake. Spread golden syrup between the layers. Frosting made from the yolk of one egg gives it a nice finish. The yolk of an egg is just as nioe for frosting ss the white. BICE DROPS.---Boil rioe to ft mush; when cold beat three eggs well and stir in; add teaspoonful of yeast powders, sprinkle of salt; drop a tablespoonful at a time in boiling lard, when brown take out and sprinkle sugar over them; serve liot. Very nice for breakfast. m 'Mh AM Ex-Consul's Story. To the Editqr of the Brooklyn Eagle: A lttte United States Consul at one of the English inland ports, who is now a private resident of New York, relates the following interesting story. He objects, for private reasons, to having his name published, but authorizes the writer to substantiate his statement, and, if necessary, to' refer to him, in his private capacity, any per­ son seeking such reference. Deferring to his wishes, I hereby present his state­ ment in almost the exact language in which he gave it to me. C. M. FARMER, 1690 Third avenue, New York. " On my last voyage home from England, some three years ago, in one of the Cunard steamers, I noticed one morning, after a few days out of port, a young man hobbling about on the npper deck, supported by cratches and seeming to move with extreme difficulty and no little pain. He was well dressed and of exceedingly-handsome countenance, but his limbs were somewhat emaciated and his face very sallow and bore the tyaoes of long suf­ fering. As he seemed to have no attendant or companion, he at once attracted my sym­ pathies, and I went up to him as he leaned against the taffrail looking out on the foam­ ing track which the steamer was making. " 'Excuse me, my young friend,' I said, touching him gently on the Hhnnlder, ' you appear to be an invalid and hardly able or strong enough to trust yourself unattended on fin ocean voyage ; but if you require any assistance I am a robust and healthy man and shall be glad to help you.' " ' You are very kind,' he replied, in a weak voice, ' but I require no present aid beyond my crutches, which enable me to pass from my stateroom up here to get the bene% of the sunshine and the sea breeze.' " 'You hayebeen a great sufferer,no doubt,* - I said, ^and I judge that you have been af­ flicted with that most troublesome disease-- rheumatism, whose prevalence and Intensity seem to be cm an alarming increase both in England and America.' " ' You are right,' he answered ; ' I have been its victim for more than a year, and, after failing to find relief from medical skill, have lately tried the Springs of Carlsbad an l Vichy. But they have done me no good, and I am now on my return home to Mis­ souri to die, 1 suppose. I shall be content if life is spared to me to reach my mother's presence. She is a widow and I am her only child.' "There was a pathos in this speech which affected me profoundly and awakened in me a deeper sympathy than I had felt before. I had no words to answer him, and stood silently beside him matching the snowy wake of the ship. While thus standing my thoughts reverted to a child--a 10-year-old boy--of a neighbor of mine residing hear my consulate residence, who had been cured of a stubborn case of rheumatism by the use of St. Jacobs Oil, and I remembered that the steward of the ship had told me the day be­ fore that he had cured himself of a very severe attack of the gout in New York just before his List voyage by the use of the same remedy. I at once left my young friend and went below to find the steward. I not only found him off duty, but discovered that he had a bottle of the Oil in his locker, which he had carried across the ocean in case of another attack. He readily parted with it on my representation,and, hurrying upagain, I soon persuaded the young man to allow me to lake him to his berth and apply the remedy. After doing so I covered him up snugly in bed and requested him not to get up until I should see him again. That even­ ing Lreturned to his stateroom and found himMeepingpeacefully and breathing gently. I roused him and inquired how he felt. ' Like a new man,' he answered, with a grate­ ful smile. ' I feel no pain and am able to stretch my limbs without difficulty. I think I'll get up.' ' No, don't get up to-night,' I said, ' but let me rub you again with the Oil, and in the morning you will be able to go above.' 'All right, he said, laughing. ' I Jhen' applied the Oil again, rubbing his knees, rtnkles and arms thoroughly, until he said he felt as if he had a mustard poul­ tice all over his body. I then left him. The next morning when I went upon deck for a breezy promenade, according to my custom, I found my patient waiting for me with a smiling face, and without his crutchcs, although he limped in his move­ ments, but without pain. I don't think I ever felt so happy in my life. To make a long story short, I attended him closely during the rest Of the voyage--some four days--applying the Oil every night, and guarding him against too much exposure to the fresh and damp breezes, and, on landing at New York, he was able, without assist­ ance, to mount the hotel omnibus, and go to the Astor House. I called on him two days later, and found him actually engaged in packing his trunk, preparatory to starting West for his home that evening. With a bright and grateful smile he Welcomed mo, and. pointing to a little box carefully done up in thick brown paper, whieh stood upon the table, he said : ' My good friend, can you guess what that is ¥' 'A present for your sweetheart,' I answered. ' No,' he laughed --'that is a dozen bottles of St. Jacobs Oil, which I have just purchased from Hndnnt, the druggist, across the way, and I am taking them home to show my good mother What has saved her son's life and restored him to her in health. And with it I would like to carry von along also, to show her the face of him, without whom, I should probably never have tried it. If you should ever visit the little village of Sedalia, in Missouri, Charlie Townsend and his mother will wel­ come von to their little borne, with hearts full of gratitude, and they will show you a bottle of St. Jacobs Oil enshrined in a silver and gold casket, which we 6hnll keep as a parlor ornament as well as a memento of our meeting on the Cunard steamer.' " We parted, after an hour's pleasant chat, with mutual good will and esteem, and a few weeks afterward I received a letter from him telling me be was in perfect health and containing many graceful expressions of his affectionate regards."--Brooklyn hagit. > *f i s "Sim Testers and Borden Beara& From time Immemorial the horse has beesi nan's best Wend. B«t a few years back we cw all remember the comparatively little attention paid to this most lndUpeimbtc of animals. Wfc say < onj|>»ratlvelyTiUl6 attention, for the hocas was as well groomed,and certainly os well -fed^a! now; and at tho*e treat gathering - iigrioultunl shows--you would see the pride of the coUnty stables unit ferns assembled. But e draught 2:40 was the , „ atboeedays red to strive for. But now a 2:40 animal Is esteemed a fcir roadster, and Ape animals oaly deserve the name when they can shade the first quarter of the t hi rd ml n ute. There have been Im­ mense strides forward in the rig-b t development of horseflesh in the civilized countries of theworid. as shown by the time-records of the raoen and and State there was a conspicuous want of horses, nnd a3 for speeT great ultimata i desire t ms want of nobi speeders--welL2:4 draught capacity of the humbler, but really mo** useful, work-horse. Many thinus httve<*»MiHi.i(cdr to effect thin desirable end, chief among which have been the intelligent rare and consideration bestowed upon the jinimal in his every relation --in a word, upon the breeding. And this has not failed to include a very serious modifieatioa of the old methods of tn-aiment, doing away in many cases, with the inhuman and really savaae plans pursued 1n the eradication of even simple disorders und ailments,and substituting rational measures of relief instead. A prominent factor of this reform, and one indorsed bv owners, breeders, furiuerso nd stockmen the country over is ST. JACOBS OIL, recognized by all who have used it us an exceptionally good remedy for the ailments ot the horse and stock generally moet- ing more indications for its use afld eilectin<r for better results than any article of a curative or remedial nature ever introduc ed. Such breeders and horsemen as Aristides Welch, Esq., of Krdcn- heim, near Philadelphia; Mi'.;e Goodin, Esa..: Be! mont Park, I'n.; Calvin M. Priest, formerlyln Mr. Robert Banner's stock, New York: and thousands of others throujfhc-ut the country! tedend named, are on the list of unquaS? sea endorsers ot the cthcacy of Sr. JACOBS OIJJ*- la iMLMmmf uillSfl LYDIA E. PINKHAM'0 rinnUllU • WWIW It-wUl cur* ntlNlr tb« won* form of 1 ptaints, an ovarian troaUa^ InflMDBMttea Hid niewa tton. Falling an* DtepUoamacta, aadttw oon--qo--t Spinal WeakBMM, aad is a4a$M to tk* Chang* of Ufa if will 41notr« and •J^ettouw* from ass early ataoof d»velopm«nfe the f-eaieacy to IROMHIUPORATHKLARFWCH^LTMRYTR--HLYFCYLTO--«. It ranwvM fulntimw, flatolaacy, destroys all uiatlag (or gUmolanta, and *gltov-- WMVIHW of tha stomach. II «ow HMtlig, Hsadaohsa, Kerrocn Fnwtratloa, •anaral DaMlity, 1--glwa--. DcpMMtoa and laifc 'nluTtoaUnc e® baartn*doura,caoefoa pata, said baokache, is always permanently cured by its aaa. f&win at alltlmMaart aadM: all circumstances act ta lusrooar with tbalawstHatgorwa tbafemaje'sy^em. l o? t he cure of Kidney Compiainta ot aUfear an tbla Onspnadiiuawpaael 1,'I'DIA E. MKHIVI TE6ETA.BLK CMC* remnk prepared at tS and SU Western Avwaa, loan. Ham FrtoafL Str botttoefor fL Bent by Ball ta the form •< pais, also in the tons of loaeBgea, mm reoeipt of prioe, fl par box for either. Hn. Ptnkhsai treaty anstren all letters of Inquiry. Sand for paaph» |li Address as abora. Mention (Ms. Ho family should bo without ttDU E. rui» nlW UVBB FELLS, They cur® coiistipattoa, hlllnii»i |̂| •ad torpidity of theUTar. Koenteper boo. ir Stifl l»?> «n Dras*lat«. "Wt > , The Best Field EMIGRANTS. AN IMMEN8B AREA OF RAlt.ROA» AND GOVERNMENT LAN DM, OF GfLBAV FERTILITY. WITHIN EASY REACH OB PERMANENT MAKKKT, A15 EXTREflOfc LY LOW PRICES, It «ow offered far sale Is •ASTERN OREGON and EASTERN WA8» INGTON TERRITORY, BKL/f "of1 tlfa an averue distance of 2 >« t» S<K) MI front Portland, wli"re eteamehipa and CI RAIN AT PORTLAND. OREGON, COM­ MANDS A PRICE EQUAL TO THAT OB. T'JNSD IN CHICAGO. The corty of Vortfmm «M« jR.jB.ia new and guarantms to tettl«r* cheap and qnidc trantporlmtiM» muI good market* both %d West fkt omening of this tieto overland Utm m IM faeifle, together with the construction, of Ik* network of 700 ntilet of railroad try the O. A M If. Co. in the, valleys of the groat Columbia and it* principal tributaries, render* uirralM a rapid increase in the' value of the land* NOW open to purchase and pre-emption* There is every indication of an enormmm movement of population to the Columbia Miver region in the immediate future. LANDS SHOW aa AVERAGE YIELD at «0 BUSHELS OF WHEAT PER ACBK No Fallar* of Cropa ever kflonrn. RAILROAD LANDS offered at the aalferai rate of 9I.M) an Aero. CLIMATE M I L B MID HEALTHY. Far piuMktes stud asap*. •aaatry* >n ressssrcea, climate, rsiite ff •arsl, rates wa&. fuM laforae arte t>« addraaa A. I» STOKER >! |aiM» Pase'r Aacnu U Clark St.. Chleaja. 1IU I NEW BOOKS. i •----- PARLOR AND KVF.NIJIO PARTY KJfTERTAINMF.NTS. By L.HorFKaK*. 1<I7 illustrations. 12mo, cloth, $i 50. MODKKX M AOK i A PRACTICAX TRF.AT-I8X on the Art ot' Conjuring. By Prof. HoPFM&int, 834 illustrations. 12nv>. rli<h, rTIHE POCKET-HOOK SMCTIOXAKT,«I • J_ SPELLING Contaimn* nearly 16,0M)of ttao. ' moat difficult words in trie Rnclisb Unjtu&ge. Siw, shr 4J," inches. Flexible cluth, jfilt edges, cents. TRM'KM WITH C1U1M. Illustrated. bonrde, S) eente. c U' Mi OrTl.KIMSE'S YWTNu PEOPMPS KY. Clear type, puper oi vora. Euch twenty coda e Fra"l',i-u" 1:1 *•' -inform ill tize with trie Franklin Squtire Library. Hoblimw ( ruaoe. With 40 Illustrations. Btviea Family Robinson. W»tli 6l) Illustration. Nnudford and Mcrton. With loo Illustration*. Grimm's Fairy Tulea. With 70 Illustrations. Anderat'n'a Fairy Tatee. Wifi go liiusuvitiOBS. H"tory *** OtfpuMisluTil"P*',pa<J,'m r*r*ipt a&ox print, by GEORGE ROVTLEnor. A M)\H, » I .A FA YET TX Pl.A<K, NkW YORK, N. Y. lYacHonal awwMt ran b remitted m Pottage Stamps, WIT,BOIL'S OOIKPOUID OF PI) RE COS LIVXBl OIL AKD LIME. 1 --Are, yon •»«>•-(** from txmgh. CioJd. Asthma. Bronobitis, or asj of rmlrutmanr trouble* that so often emS CflOMitr If »r>, nm u Wilihtr*^ Pura Cod-Livrr Oil and *mnm and Mire mmedy. This is no qoaek pn»pat»tfc>n. b Manit^bySS Wuaom, Ghi mist, Boston. Sslil tvr all ilii||ifi • ~ • ,oj'«{ Uns rarioaa in OwMnmpWoa ? and * eaia

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