§. VMM.TKC. UHtMl taMMwr. HoBENBY, ILLINOIS MARY. %TEUGENE FIElfe, ' #jhtn T fV»« h*ixiw rtfr>}|^ • _ la that. ttecemb -r wcith< r, -A „ '• - wot she and i, with footstep* it jilt'**" Walked home fr<>m church toire.ber? My heart was rent 'iwixt joy and fear. And she wss cov an'l chary, For that which maUlcns love to h35jjr I'd whiarwred in hertiny ear, Whiie walking home with Mary.' Ah, that was In the lone a«c, " * But somehow it win*' nearer, And those dear days we n-< d to kcMrilj 8oem alwayc, somehow, dearer • When Mary iinircrs by mv side As coy and sweet v chary As when, in that Pecember tfd \ 1 wooed and won rav 1 ttie bride. While walking Lome with Mary. God bless thee, Mary, for the peici 'J hat cometh wit n thi seeming. • . And grant I ne'er shall kn >w surceSM Prom this delightful dioamiUR, For in mine ace yon are to me-- Though all the world mar vary-- The same sweet eirl yon used to ba Awl to a land my fait h can see, rm walking home with Mary. • %- • A~ X - • i'va ^ • H'- \ ' V POETRY. BT GOETHE. -Itoeiari'lM gushing swell, ^ That Mi nis she nieKard measure, Peeps the blood warm and makes it swell In pulsing veins with pleasure; Blame me nott he cup of sorrow. When it comt's to me, • . lean sip, nor ne d to borrow - Widest airs from thee. Modesty's a pretty thin? , In a maid when woo'd; Modestly she folis her w From h ndling co.rse ana rada. And sober thought, the wise man s*ys, In wise honr teaches me For time to order well my days, And for eternity. Bnt rhyme disowns the sober mool; • /;. 1 love to rhyme alone, SL,, ,< ; Clr»ith one friend or twowhese blood '$ Flows kindly like my own. t? , Ccwled or uncowied, let preachers come * To dam my foaminir river, **/'4 They may prevail to make me dumb, V/' Si, But to bj solter never. ;; • ... v- k When the poet's fancv burns, *•. i'4_> Be slow to reprimand him; , ,• Tou'i] torsive his wildest turns ^ When once you understand him. A LAWYER'S STORY. $ | *'Jack !" r~f - ; y! Three resounding thumps on a stout nooden table attracted the attention .not only of the white aproned waiter, ;4rat likewise of the half-dozen persons *-i*t»'ho were eating and drinking in the plain old-fashioned chop-house. One <®f the eaters, a benevolent-looking . f ^oung man with banged hair, was so startled by the thumps that he let fall jiiiis fork, with which he had but just im- , impaled a cube of luscious steak. The f.ihaggy house dog, drowsing behind the ^fttove, quietly rescued the juicy cube ' • /from the sawdust and shoved the fork S !lrader the young man's feet "Jack!" again called the thumper, jfroffly. , i,, "Yes, Judge, what can I do for you?" «aid the waiter, deftly brushing the ta- A Jble witli his big napkin. V" f> "I want some whisky--three fingers <of the best." A glass half-full of good ? 1*7® wa® set before the judge in a twink ling. "Some lump sugar. Ah, that's . lit. Now bring me a cup of tea without a.any milk, and a clear goblet with just 4 '^a little water. Yes, that's just right. - You know what I want, don't you Jack? ;?:*pive me a teaspoon." The grufl old - • ^gentleman became mellow and jovial Jpks "Jack" placed each of the Articles called for on the table. Run- |ning his fat fingers through his fuzfcy, -f White hair, he began to laugh sotfly to S' f jiimself. "Yes. Jack, the old judge ^ knows how to enjoy life," he solilo- ^ if djuized. Counting out six lumps of su- • |jar, he dropped them, one by one, into ..." 4.he goblet, in which there was just suf- -iicient water to dissolve them. He stirred the thick sy;up energetically -R for a minute and then added about half / <>f his whisky. Next he put in the con- ^tJlents of his teacup, and on top of that Ipoured the remainder of the whisky. A Jew dexterous turns of the spoon mixed ithis compound to his satisfaction, and With a beaming face, he quaffed it in >One prolonged draught. Putting aside *he empty glass, he exclaimed: "Jack, -• "* low you may bring me a brace of chops , And a mug of ale." "Queer drink, eh?" said the stout •nd jolly proprietor of the place to the Vi iter, who had neglected his plum pudding to watch the old gentleman. . "Bather, but he seems to relish it" tjpyv "So be does. That's Judge (mentioning a name well known in New York, j He enjoys his lunches and din- aer.s, and gets up all sorts of queer fliixtures. He puts vinegar on his fish, 4R?rinkles venison with powdered sugar, yours wine on spinach, and butters his yie. Oh, he's an odd one. You watch Aim, and before he gets through he will •change his drink two or three times. y See, he is ordering a pint of claret to I S on top of that ale. After a while he , , %ill drink some more ale, and then will * $op off with a pony of brandy. An old customer? Oh yes; he has taken the Biost of his mid-day meals here for the --last twenty years. He patronized this tilace when my father kept it, and he is he only remaining one of a jolly crowd ($•{+ >Of fellows who used to lunch here to- » ^ether every day." J < The well-oiled swinging doors of the old chop-house, which, by the wav, is : f <t>ne of the few land-marks yet standing ' 'in the busy locality immediately sur rounding Trinity Church--parted just '-enough to admit the burly form of a -well known lawyer. He bestowed a . .{(glance and a bow in the direction of the 4, ^quaint old judge, and, recognizing in |r^|;§the plum pudding eater an old acquaint- t . -^ance, he Bat down at the opposite side ^ jof the latter*s table. The proprietor . of the place, who also knew the new- ^corner, hastened to bring a fresh mug r i -of ale. "I see the old judge is here," ^ said the lawyer, after he had taken a ; . " refreshing sip of his Bass and admon- ^idshing "Jack" to be careful about get- "ting him a plate of roast turkey with f ' •' -eqtial parts of white and dark meat and "plenty of stuffin'." "You know him, then," observed the . ̂ plum pudding eater. s , "I'ould say so. I have known him :̂ *jgroat many years, and I know most of - ^Jds old associates who used to come ^ liere. Cornelius Vanderbilt was one of v . ' that coterie of gormandizers. I don't mean the Commodore, but his son, the late brother of William H. I know iiid lo* ifeft, osfeoatt&i r supplying l%ht lo tm public. Some of those companies were lwiti- mads enterprises ̂but scores of 'wild* cat' corporations sprang up in various parts of the country. They sent cir culars to this city, soliciting subscrip tions to their stocks and bonds, and doubtless many innocent subscribers suffered. There bogus companies be came so numerous that the first-class ftlw»tric lifrVifr pnmnsniiw fnnnd i>. nMva. sary to unite in exposing and suppres sing the fraudulent ones. Some of the more bare-faced swindles were un earthed by the agents of the united companies. Bnt now forvmy story. One day I chanced to meet an old and very dear friend of mine in Wall street He was nervously elbowing his way through the crowd, and I asked him in a joking way if he was going after a fortune. He answered me in a very serious tone, that be was, and passed on out of my sight I went up into my office, and had been there about an hour when my friend came in. I saw at a glance that he was unusually excited, and I sought to put him in a calmer frame of mind by telling him an anec dote I had just heard, about how Wil liam H. Vanderbilt circumvented a tricky horse-dealer, "'Do you know Mr. Vanderbilt,' asked my friend abruptly. " '1 have merely a speaking acquaint ance with him,' 1 replied. Can you tell me whether he and his brother Cornelius are on good terms? do you think that he would back Cor nelius in an important business enter prise ? Is he interested in any way in electric light enterprises ? These ques tions were put so rapidly that I scarce ly caught their drift, but I saw by my friend's eager manner that he was deep ly interested. I told him that I did not know exactly how William H. and Cor nelius regarded each other, but I was quite certain that their personal inter courses were neither close nor confi dential, and I was by no' meanes pre pared to lelieve that a man of William H.s' astutenesss would back 'Corneel'in any important business enterprise. I pressed my friend for an explanation of <he cause of his extraordinary nervous ness and the meaning of his questions. He said that he had become acquainted with some capitalists who were inter ested in the new elecrtic light company. Ciroulars received through the mails had first attracted his attention to the enterprise, but upon inquiry he i^pd satisfied himself that it was a good thing. The company had but just been organized with a capital of $1,000,000. Its originators claimed to possess pat ents of as great value as anythiug that Swan, Edison, or Brush, had discover ed, and they also declared that they conld supply the electric light to con sumers at 40 per cent less cost than any other company. My friend noticed an incredulous look in my face, and he hastened to assure me that he had read printed descriptions of all the patents, and had also seen the original letters patent. He then amazed me by saying that he had put $25,000 cash into the enterprise. I knew he was not a wealthy man, and expressed surprise at his having been in possession of so large a sum. 'Well,' said he, with some hesitation, 'I have sold my house. This venture is sure to quadruple my money in a year or two, and, after thinking it all over, I concluded to make the in vestment Besides, I am to be treas urer of the company.' " 'Well, that's one good feature,' said I, 'but who is to be President?" "'Cornelius Vanderbilt,' answered my friend. "I looked at the man in silent aston ishment. His confession that he who for nearly sixty years hud been a plod ding, conservative money-saver had hazarded everything he owned in a probable 'wild-cat' scheme had startled me, but when he mentioned Cornelius Vanderbilt's name in connection with the affair I knew that something was wrong. I had repeatedly heard 'Cor neel' condemn bogus stock companies, and I felt certain that he could not have gone into any important business enterprise without my knowing it There were peculiar circumstances that led to this belief. I resolved to find out what was going on, and proceeded to draw my friend out without seeming to be half as deeply interested as I really was. He told me that after re ceiving two or three circulars he called at an office in Fulton street, and had met two or three of the promotors of the scheme. They told him he had been highly recommended to them as a good man for Treasurer of the new company. They mentioned the names of two or three of his friends whom they professed to have seen. One in terview followed another, until my friend's confidence was completely won. The strangers were well-dressed and agreeable gentlemen, and the fact that they did not evince any undue anxiety to draw my friend into the enterprise completely disarmed him. He was led to l>elieve that it was only on account of his excellent reputation as an honest and reliable business man that he was to be let into the venture. Stock was very scarce, he was told, but if he be came Treasurer of the company he might have a few shares at par. Cor nelius Vanderbilt. it was affirmed, had subscribed for $50,000, and had placed $250,OCX) with William H. Vanderbilt. My friend was not wholly green, and suggested that as he had never seen Mr. Cornelius Vanderbilt he would like to meet him before the concluded any arrangement relative to the enterprise. His suggestion met with a cordial ex pression of approval, and one of the gentlemeu, who was to act as Vice President of the new company, at once made an appointment for the meeting on the next day. My friend was to gp to an office in a large business building in Broad street, and there be intro duced to Mr.'Cornelius Vanderbilt He was on his way to keep that appoint ment when I met him elbowing his way through the crowd in Wall street, and he had come directly to my offiee after the meeting. After listening to so much of his story I interrupted him to ask: "Did you see Corneliw Yonder- ffidtewI and yet tender. hadndt SSPffffPH 9 oomplete his purchase of •took on 11m mil day. Well, to make a long story short, I prevailed upon him to promise me that he would not make another move in the enterprise until he had seen me. He went home and I remained in my office. About an hour after m dispatch came from Cor nelius Vanderbilt telling me that he was at the Palmer House in Chicago about any nlfMriV Hjrht mm nan v Then I hunted up a detective with whom I was well acquainted, and told him the main facts of the case. He had heard of the parties who were in terested in the glowingly-described new electric light company, and suspected that they were swindlers. We went together to the house of my friend, and talked the matter over. The detective advised my friend to keep his appoint ment on the following day. It was ar ranged that the officer and myself should accompany him and be intro duced as gentlemen who would like to subscribe for some stock. My friend was to draw an admission from the bo gus Vanderbilt that he was Cornelius Vanderbilt, and the detective would then take him into custody for false representations ~ "Well, did your little trap catch the game?" inquired the plumb-pudding eater. "No, somebody must have warned the rascals, for when we reached tlieir of fice there was nobody there but a boy, who handed my friend a note without a signature, stating briefly that Mr. Vanderbilt had been called out of town. However, nothing more was heard in this city of that particular electric light company."--New York "Corneel' well, and it was owing to my lij" intimate acquaintance with him that I jy* was enabled to save a friend from being .yy!J|*windled." "How was that ?" tfi "I will tellyou,. Jack, fiUthese to- The ning happened about P;' *year and a half before the Cornelius Vanderbilt's tragic death in this city. ] I Parhaps you will remember that soon ^ after tne electric light came into prac tical me for illuminated purposes, a vecy large number of companies were bilt to-day. " 'Yes,' said my friend. " 'That's impossible,' I exclaimed, 'Mr. Cornelius Vanderbilt is in Chica go to-day,, and here is a telegram that I received from hint not two hours ago. "It was now my friend's turn to be astonished, but he endeavored to con yince me that I must be mistaken. He insisted that he had seen Cornelius Vanderbilt and had received the lat ter s assuranc that the new enterprise wafe a good thing. Cornelius had said that it was bound to succeed, because William H. had taken hold of it. asked my friend to give me a descrip tion of the man whom he had taken for Cornelius Vanderbilt, and he described 'Corneel' most accurately. Then I was puzzled, but I at once wrote a telegram to \ anderbilt in Chicago requesting an immediate answer. Next I asked my friend if he had paid in his $25,000, and, much to mj relief, he. said he Shade Trees on the FnrnL A few well formed trees along the fence rows, and even scattered here and there in the open fields, add great ly to the appearance and value of a farm. Cattle, sheep, and other form animals, suffer greatly from the hot sun when confined in a shadeless past ure in midsummer. They will seek the slight protection from the broiling sun a fence may afford, or stand huddled together for hours, with their heads shaded by each other, in a most un healthy manner. Animals thus ex posed do not give the best returns to their owners, and for this reason, if not for comfort's sake, they should be pro vided with shade. Some farmers ob ject to trees in the pasture, because their shade is too inviting, and keep the live-stcck from feeding. Farm ani mals need not graze all the time, and with good pasturage can get all the grass they need in the cool portions of the day, between which they should have refreshing shade for chewing the cud of contentment Men are not the only creatures that may be sun-struck; cows unduly exposed to heat frequently become sick, quickly fall off in milk, and may require weeks of expensive nursing to bring them back to good health. Trees are an obstruction to the cultivation of a field, and occupy the soil for several feet around them, to the exclusion of grain or other crops, and, therefore it is best to plant most of the trees along the line of boundary fences. The tired laborer is thankful for a few minutes of shade and rest, and doubtless will do more work bv taking an occasional "breathing spell" under a tree. A tree in midfield may be a chestnut or hickory, and make good returns for the space it occupies in nuts, as well as refreshing shade. In many fields there is a low place with a small running stream, and is well-fitted for a group of trees. In short, any part of a field not suited to cultivation may profitably grow a few trees, thus affording a retreat for the live-stock from the the midday sun and driving storms. If the pasture has no shade trees, it will pay to provide a tempora ry shelter. Four strong posts, with forks at the top, may support two poles; across these lay smaller poles for rafters. The top may be covered with straw, swale hay, or, if more con venient, brush may be cut and laid upon the skeleton roof.--American Agri- cullurist. • Poe. Poe was in many respects, a Parisian. He was born to live in the environ ment of an old civilization. He was at home not in the "forest primeval," mid log huts and uncouth backwoodsmen, but in the Cafe de la Regence in in the pauses of a game of chess. He would have felt himself happier, I doubt not, in Paris than he did in New York, Philadelphia, Boston of forty years ago. The fair city on the Seine, with its long boulevards, its graceful bridges, its churches, and Notre Dame supreme among all, its historic associations, its gay throngs under sunlight and gas light, would have been the fit dwelling site for a man who, like Poe, had the artistic temperament and with polished pen knew so well tow to put his im pressions on paper. But, though in his lifetime, Edgar Allen Poe was des tined not to dwell in a city that would have been so congenial to him, he lives there to-day. His name has become proverbial for whatever is extraordina ry in literature, as is indicated by a phrase you catch now and then in Paris --as "Cent un Poe;" or by the recent allusion Aurelien Scholl made to the artist Willette as the "Edgar Poe du dexxin." Tlieophile (iautier, in his bi ographical sketch of Charles Baude laire, devotes several pages to a consid eration of the American author who, as he affirms, certainly influnced his French translator. Gustav Dore Has done for the "Baven" what he did for the "Commedia"' of Dante and the "Par adise Lost" of Milton, and now the news comes across the sea that "tout Paris," which witnessed a dramatiza tion of the "Contes d'Hoffman," is shortly to witness a dramatization of the "Contex d'Edgar Poe."-*- ittneis Rosenthal, in the Manhattan. , * Faraday's Lost Cop. ̂ There is a story told of a workman of Faraday. One day, he knocked into a jar of acid a little silver cup. It dis appeared, was eaten up by the acid, apd could not be found. One said he could not find it; another gaid it was held in solution, and no possibility of finding it The great chemist came in and put some chemical into the jar, and in a moment every partible of silver was precipitated to the bottom. He lifted it out a shapeless mass, sent it to the silversmith, and the cup was restored. If Faraday could precipitate that silver and recover his cup, how easy it ought to be for us to believe that God can restore our sleeping dust! OSAOX orange leaves, when fed to silk worms, produce silk of the very finest quality--so fine, indeed as to challenge the applause of foreign silk bnyerg and silk experts of Lyons, France-- which is the center of the world of silk. IT SHOULD be remembered that no matter how good and rich a milker a ---• -he SOME people carry their hearts in their heads; very many carry their heads in their hearts, The great dif ficulty is to keep them apart, and yet both actively working together. THE need of the hour is not a cheaper cigar, but a man whe " --!-- smoking cabbage-lea' product to be kept up unless except the quantity and adaptability of the food are matters of attention. Do not expect impossibilities, even if you are the owner of prize milking ani mals. E. W. ANDREWS, near Lynnfield, Massachusetts, keeps on a farm of half a dozen acres fifteen hundred hens in summer and from four to five thousand in winter, and figures up his profits at from $1.25 to $1.50 per fowL He has two men helping him and seems to be making a success of raising fowls on a large scale, a bhsiness requiring considerable experience. A CONTRIBUTOR to the Practical Far mer protects the canes of his tender raspberries and blackberries in the following manner: He fakes a long, heavy pole or fence-rail and>places it on the ground parallel with the TOW and closely against the canes. Then rais ing it slightly lie presses it firmly against the line of canes, bending them all over at once and prostrating them to the ground. A few canes may be split, but few broken by being brought over. Any additional covering depends upon circumstances, as snow some times renders it unnecessary. Corn stalks and straws are often used, but a mn^s of evergreen branches is better than anything else. THE fact that city businessmen not infrequently make successful farmers may be due to an observation of a truth which Prof. Jordan, of the Pennsyl vania State College, states thus: "Far mers should avoid spending too large a portion of their time in mere manual labor, especially when the interests they control are extensive. It is time to get rid of the literal application of the maxim that the successful farmer must 'either hold the plow or drive,' He cannot afford to exhaust his energies in labors which others can perform. He needs vigor for 'head work,' and time for the study of new methods, new ma chinery, and of the general business and the capacity of intelligent super vision and direction is always worth more than the ability to do a big day's work." A FRENCH forestry journal says that thirty years ago the Khanati district of Bacharia was one of the most fertile regions of Central Asia. It was well worked and splendidly watered. About twenty-five years ago a mania for clearing away the forests seized upon the people, and now all the great for ests have been cut away, and the little that remained was ravaged by fire dur ing the civil war. The consequences were not long in following, and have transformed the couutry into a kind of arid desert. The water-courses are dried up and the irrigating canals empty. The moving eands of the desert being no longer restrained by barriers of forests, are every day gain ing upon the land, and will finish by transforming it into a desert as deso late as the solitudes that separate it from the Khiva. FOOD FOB FATTENING PIGS.--Prof. Sanson, of France, has been experi menting on the relative value of car bonaceous substances for the fattening of pigs. He selected a Windsor pig, aged 10 weeks, and weighing 16 pounds, and a Yorkshire, aged 8 weeks, and weighing 42 pounds. The first was fed from Dec. 10, 1880, to April 17, 1871, exclusively on barley, amounting to 202 pounds, when "it weighed at the end of the four months 52 pounds, thus representing a net aug mentation of 28 pounds. The York shire was fed on barley, potato, starch, and sugar, from Nov. 17, 1881. to Feb. 25, 1882, in the total proportions of 75 pounds of barley, 70 of starch, and 7 of sugar. At the end of the experiment, it weighed 54 pounds, or an augmenta tion of 30 pounds. In 128 days the Windsor gained 28pounds; in 100 days the Yorkshire had put up 30 pounds of flesh, or, respectively, an augmentation at the rate of 24 and 4j ounces per day. The professor concludes that for young pigs, a highly carbonaceous food is not that which is most conducive to their development, or even most fa vorable to the production of fat, though the latter, he maintains, be formed from the hydrates of carbon, and not from the protein compounds, as Ger man scientists maintain. The practic al inference is that the pig, being an omnivorous animal, it stands in need, when young, of an eliminatioivthaT^rtl develop the body rather than produces flesh, and that, during the period oi growth, the food ought to contain a large proportion of animal matter dairy and kitchen refuse, and ed debris from slaughter-houses knackers' yards. These adj supply the protein compoun INDIAN CORN--ITS VALUE IN THE RA TION.--Corn is so rich in oil that we may say corn bread is ready buttered, it is, however very digestible, and in cold weather this oiliness is a most ^valuable factor, as it serves to keep up the heat of the body more directly than starch and similar substances. With oats and barley it may form one-third of the grain ration of a hard-worked draft horse, and will keep their coats glossy and be in every way a benefit, certainly worth more than its weight in oats. Fed alone or in large proportion, it has a tendency to make horses sweat easily, and, it is said, to become quick ly exhausted. It is not safe to feed it as freely as oats or barley, as there is danger of impaction and colic--just as there would be if wheat were so fed. No doubt it is best fed ground with oats, and the proportions already indi cated are probably the most satisfacto ry, the meal being fed upon cut hay. For cows in milk, corn-meal may form with bran the exclusive grain ration, and may be fed at the rate of one pint of corn-meal to each hundred pounds of the cow's live weight. No doubt it will be found just as go§d in Great Britain as here. It gives a quality and richness to the milk, color to the but ter, aqfl abundance to the flow if the cow is a good one; but if she is inclined to lay on fat, such feeding will cause her to fatten, even though in full milk, and if she gets too fat slie will go dry. For sheep, corn is excellent, but should be fed whole, and a little at a time. For swine, the universal experience from Maine to Oregon, and from Can ada to Mexico, is that it will make more pork than any other food. For poul try, it is in this country the universal grain, but is not always the best. It is admirable for its fattening properties, but for laying hens and growing fowls it is not well to use too much. "Cornfed" fowls, ducks, and geese are firm fleshed tion alive with litto shrinkage, yellow corn medces yellow butter ibct yellow fat in fowls. English and French taste demands white-fleshed poultry with pale, lardy fat, and so they fatten poultry on rice, and their fancy-market fowls have about as much flavor as boiled rice. The American market de mands yellow-fleshod fowls, with fat as yellow as June butter, and corn is the 1UUU tO ptuuuue tUlD ill Ml pvultij.jr.--- Aiiici'iCGJi Agv IOUSEKEEPERS' HELPS* »" STEWED FISH.--Take any kind of fresh water fish in slices across and sprinkle with salt. Boil *iwo Sliced onions, pour off the water and season with pepper and salt; add one pint of hot water and a tablespoonful of chopped parsley, in this simmer the fish until done. ORANGE BUTTER.--Pare eight large oranges, cut into thin slices, pour over them one and one-half cupfuls of pow dered sugar; boil one pint of milk; and, while boiling, add the yolks of three eggs, one tablespoonful of corn starch made smooth with cold milk; stir con stantly, and when thick pour over the custard and brown in the oven. LADY FINGERS.--Take two eggs, one cupful of sugar, half a Cupful of butter, half a cupful of sweet milk, two tea- spoonfuls of baking powder; add enough flour to form a soft dough. Take a small piece of dough, flour it and roll with your hands as large as vour finger; cut off in four-inch lengths and put closely m buttered pans. Bake quickly. DROP CAKBS.--One coffee-cupful of granulated sugar, two teaspoonfuls of baking powder, one ounce of butter, two ounces of lard, one egg, one coffee- cupful of milk, two cupfuls of flour, flavoring to taste. Mix the sugar, bak ing powder, and shortening (butter and lard) and flavoring well together; then add the egg, well beaten, and the milk. Thicken with the flour and drop on tins. FISH SAUCE.--Flake up cold boiled halibut and set the plate into the steamer that the fish may heat without drying. Boil the bones and skin of the fish with a very small piece of red pep per; a bit of this as large as a kernel of coffee will make the sauce quite as hot as most people like it. Boil this stock down to half a pint, thicken with a teaspoonful of flour braided together. Add one drop of extract of almond; pour this sauce over your halibut, and stick bits of parsley over it. BAKED GOOSEBERRY PUDDING. -- Three pints of gooseberries, six eggs, three ounces of butter, one pint of bread crumbs, two pounds of sugar, puff paste. Pick and tail ther goose berries, put them in a jar, and put the jar into a saucepan of water; boil un til tender, then pulp them through a sieve, and add the eggs well beaten, butter bread crumbs and sugar; beat well for a few minutes. Line a dish with puff paste, put in the mixture, and bake for about an hour; sprinkle with sifted sugar and serve. PINEAPPLE BAVARIAN CREAM.--One pint of fresh or canned pineapple, one small teacupful of sugar, one pint of cream, half a package of gelatine, half a cupful of cold water. Soak the gel atine two hours in tbe water. Chop pineapple fine, put it on with the su gar to simmer twenty minutes. Add gelatine and strain immediately through a cloth or seive into a tin basin. Rub the pineapple through as much as pos sible. Beat until it begins to thicken, then add cream which has been whipped" to a froth. When well mixed pour in to a mold and set away to Serve with whipped cream. Mrs. Swisslielin's Black Knight* Mrs. Swisshelm's account of her first meeting with lier husband* at a coun try frolic, was as follows: "The host came and asked permission to intro duce a gentleman, saying, 'If you do not treat him well I will never forgive you.' There was no need of this cau tion, for she presented a man whose presence made me feel that I was a very little girl and should have been at home. He was over six feet tall, well formed and strongly built, with black hair and eyes, a long face, and heavy whiskers. He was handsomely dressed, and his manner was that of a grave and reverend seignor. A Russian Count in a New York dining-room then, when Counts were few, could not have seemed more foreign than this man in that village parlor, Jess than two miles from the place Of his birth. * * • I next saw him on horseback, and this man of giant strength, in full suit of black, riding a large, spirited black horse, became my black knight." On the 13th of November, 1836, they were married. He and his family were Methodists, she was a Covenanter. 'Ihey lived at his mother's, Their mar- Vied life was not happy, although in hei Account of this period she speaks of the intense love she bore the man whom she married. In 1837 a traveling artist stopped in Wilkinsburg and painted some portraits with crude materials gathered from a wagon shop. Mrs. Sjprisshelm took up the art She met with some success and felt that she had found her vocation. But she uncon sciously neglected her household duties and her conscience began to trouble her. She felt that housekeeping was woman's sphere, and after a hard strug gle put away her brushes, crucified her divine gift, and "spent my best years and powers cooking cabbage." ! A Timely Shower. "I was mighty thankful for that rain we got yesterday." "Yes, it did the corn a world of good. How many acres have you got planted in corn ?" "I've got no corn planted this year at all. I wasn't thinking about crops." "Well, how then can the rain benefit you?" "You see I don't often get a decent dinner at home, as my wife says she can't cook in hot weather, but yester day there was to be a church picnic, and she fixed up a lunch basket for the preacher's table, but it rained so the picnic could not come off. To keep the preacher's lunch from spoiling, we had it for dinner, and it was the best dinner I've had since we were married. There was no end of chicken, and jel lies, and that sort of alleviations. I feel like a new man, just as if I was born again. Don't tell me that rain yesterday didn't do the country any good. It was the most refreshing show* er we have had for years." The Boy Again. One of the terrible small boys: "Does your head ever swim, Mr. Snif- kins ?" asked little Tom Popinjay of his sister's beau. "Yes, Tommy, I suffer occasionally from dizziness," replied the slim. "I thought so," said Tommy. "Pa said he'd pitch you into the horse pond only your head would VtMt jp from sinking." ~ ^ #The proceedings <4 theBrMsh Hou-e of Commons d%r l* many respects from those ofourHon«e of Represent* tives, altough th« rules of the latter were originally based upon those of tl^e former. The Commons meet at 4 o'clock in the afternoon; and often sit until the small hours of the next morning. After the speaker, in ample wior and lone no wing gown, takes his BPRK and the chaplain nas said prayers, the business of the day begins. first part of the session is usu- ally occupied by the passing of private 8. through their latter stages, the receiving of petitions (which are not read, but are receive)} by the clerk, and thrown into a large bag on his side,) and the swearmg in of newly elected members. Then occurs a feature peculiar to the English system of "the responsibility of ministers," and quite unknown in our own Congress^ Members rise, and give notice that, on the next day, they will ask of one of the ministers sucn ancj such a<question. These notices of ques tions are then printed, and on tbe next day ere distributed, so then the minis ters, and all the House, know just what questions are to be put; After notice of questions, comes the putting of questions bf which notice was given the previous day. This pro cess takes up a good deal of time. A member, for instance, asks the Prime Minister whether such and such news has arrived from Egypt. Another will ask the^Home Secretary if he lias ex amined into the harsh sentence of some judge or magistrate. A Parnellite will ask of the Irish Secretarv about some alleged injustice which has taken place in Ireland. The minister thus interrogated rises from the front bench on the speaker's right, and replies to the inquiry in such terms as have been previously agreed on between him and his colleagues. Sometimes he evades a direct answer, pleading that it is not for the public interest to give one. At other times, he will reply suocinctly and clearly, so as entirely to satisfy his questioner. After the questions have been duly disposed of, the more important busi« ness of the session begins. The gov ernment bills are taken up, amendments are offered to them, and debates often of great interest ensue. A bill of this sort goes through four ages. First, the minister who has charge of it "asks leave to introduce the bill." There is usually but little dis cussion or opposition at this stage; leave being given, the bill is "read the first time." This does not mean that the whole bill is read aloud. It is in the hands of members. When it is said to be read the first time, only its title is really read. The great debate on a bill comes at the next stage, which is that of reading it a second time. This is the stage when the principle of the bill, not its details, is the issue, and the question is if the bill shall be read a second time. An affirmative vote means that the House is willing to pass the bill in some form. For instance, if the bill proposes to extend the suffrage, the House says, by passing it to a second reading, that it approves of extending the suffrage, but does not assent to every detail of the bill. One way of voting to throw out, or reject, a bill, is by adopting a motion that the bill "be read this day six months." If this is carried, it really means that the bill is defeated. It is ndt read in six months, or any other time. -5 • The third stage is when the bill, hav ing been read a second time, goes to what is called "the committee of the whole House." Now the speaker leaves the chair, and his place is taken by the deputy speakers, who is "chairman of committees." The bill is then discuss ed and amended, clause by clause; that is, the House goes into its details, and accepts or alters them one by one. After the bill has thus been minutely gone through, it is reported as amend ed to the House, the speaker being once more in the chair. Finally, the fourth stage is reached; the bill is read, with little or no discussion, a third time, and is then passed and sent up to the House of Lords, to be by them in turn considered. A Fable. Once upon a time two fresh' young chicks were promenading along the garden walks hunting for a free lunch. Presently they espied a June bug, and, without the ceremony of an introduc tion, they sat upon the stranger, and the larger chick took him in and cared for him, while the smaller chick was fain to content himself by hoping for better luck next, time. He however, expressed himself freely and re marked : "Yon may be larger than I, sir, but you have no ancestry." 1 1 "I have, sir, My ancestors are of the best Puritan stock, straight from Ply- month Rock." * "That's nothing, sir. I happen to know the eggs from which the members of your immediate family were hatched cost only eight cents a dozen, while mine cost fifty cents, and scarce at that Fudge, sir; you need not converse with me relative to the pride of lineage, for I am too smart for you," and he strut4 ted away. Moral--The winning, aristocracy is the aristocfticy of wealth.--Merchant Traveler. The Annual Moving Pictja "Are you going to help me put down the carpet, John?" "S'pose so; where's tack hammer?" 'Ifs in- the barrel of dishes--no, it i ie*'t--.jes, it is--oh, I know now; I put it in the bandbox with your new Sunday hat." "Just like a 'woman; never knows where any thing is; hat ruined like enough; where's the handle of the hammer?" "Oh, I packed that up with the china set; you'll find it, dear, at the bottom of the box." "Now, who's going to stretch this carpet* hey?" "Me, dear." "Well, staud there. Gracious, I can't pull a hundred pounds of dry goods along with the carpet. Oh, dear! I'm going to have a fit, I belive." I'll make you a cup .of tea, dear. You caivdrink it oiit of your shaving mug. It*ll be just like a picnic."--Boston Post. Well qualified lor the Business. "So you would like to become A blacksmith, would you?" he said to « little barefoot boy, as he stopped bkwr* ing the bellows for a moment "Yes, sir," the boy replied. "I would like to learn the trade.' "Are you strong and healthy? "Yes sir." "And quick? I wouldn't have a boy around who wasn't quick." "Yes, I am quick." Here the boy stepped his foot on - a hot horseshoe and the blacksmith re marked : _ "Well, I guess IH give you a trial. You seem to be one of the quickest little boys I ever Xwk Sun. • - • - . ' j m - , •itti try Is a Yontcer's Gotette. CRYSTALLIZKD sqgarls the "rock" has turned many a man a-rye.--Mara- thon Tmeptvdenl ~ --T Cj&btitta are sbhtolft. <k£. baaiflfHk but vane are th* heights |o which thfg _ .. VA« liAvt'n h - - - UpOIi m vltuo a MWM considered greater and betiev jthaa* riches. But that was a long time asro. --Peck's Sim. * ' "I TELL you it'a .blistering in the wood-shed," said Johnnie as ho emerged with his father, and fc« difflft,, refer to the weather, either. » A NEW YORK doctor says sunstroke to *' always preceded by a rush of blood to the brain. No wonder the dudes srer free and happy this red-hot weather. DOWN in Kansas City at a ball i»» stead of toying, "Swing and balanpfe* ; they say, "Swing your dnckeyaod - shake your mud-hooks."--Carl Prat- zeVs Weekly. " " 9 an allopath, the othe# a homeopath. "And both paths lead unto the cram." said truthful No. 2. ^ _ SEVESFJB IS SWEHT. ~-- When Philkins won her heart fr ' My soiil vi-ttH mnch enr&md; But now, ha! ha! Iam revenged-- I hear they are engaged! --Life. A ciBcifs clown fftcfentiy dropped dead while getting off an old joke on , his mother-in-law. Thus you see that a man always gets the worst cf it when lie didn t know the blanked thing WAS loaded.--Paris Beacon. r "I WANT the babies feet taken, v<kt' know," said a Chicago mother to tin photographer. "Can't do it. ma'am, in a card plio; will have to have a cabi net." "Why?" "Because, ina'atn,dtt» . cago feet are always cabinet size!" ^ THE KICKEB. " From hot to cold, From cold to hot, f J ' < Totir ulster now unfold, lo-mori ow will bo cold, And It will snow, And It will blow, t It s just as like as not. «V --Chicago Sun. " • * . , * A SBUTTFERK jucfee decx^eS tlfllTOs. band can "strike his wife three licks with a switch and escape pun,shment." Not much. Your honor;--not if his wife can grab a rolling-pin or a broom handle, he won't escape punishment And in a majority of eases she can grab. --Drake's Travelers' Magazine. A CINCINNATI girl, traveling in Italy, was captured by briganc s. Word was sent to her friends that they might have her for $5,000. The next morn ing the brigands sent a note, asking her friends if they atould take her (or $1,000. She had amused herself dur ing the nigl^t bjl*singing "Over the Garden Wall." A CALF has been born in" Austin, tfe- * vada, with two tails. If that calf should take it into its head to jump over the moon, astronomers would grow gray trying to study out what kind of a comet that was sailing through the heaven with two tails. On the ott er hand, if this calf should be com-- tented to stay on earth till its day came to be driven to the slaughter, the butchers would draw lots to see which would be the driver. Heretofore a butcher, when dressing a cow, has had to be contented with one tail to twist, but now that a calf has been born with two tails, the butchers will look for* ward to the day when it reaches the killing age, that they can enjoy the luxury of twisting two tails instead of one. The gentleman who owns this calf would do well to make a specialty of raising two-tailed calves, as he could use one of the tails for ox-tail soup, and still leave his cattle with one tail apiece. There is money in it--Peck's Sun. " ; • 1 ' Medal. H Jwi*? Peabody llottomfnll Wins "Am de Hon. Peabody Bottomfall dehalldis evenin'?" blandly inquirttd1 Brother Gardner as the meeting opened^ He was. He came forward with an expression of humility covering him like a blanket, and when he had taken his station before the desk the Presi dent continued: , "Brudder Bottomfall, I dm about to, present you, on behalf of our organiza tion, wid a silver medal. You am do fust an' only member ob the l ime Iviln Club eber reeeivin' sich a gift, an* some explanashuns may be in order.. You has bin a member fur de las' three y'ars, an' your conduct in an' out of Paradise Hall has ,bin sich as to call fur constant praise. We who hev watched you de clusest4 hev obsarved dat. ' " What you lacked in flower pots lit, de front yard has bin "made good by <ir big crop of cabbages in de back girt den. "Your lack of educashun has bib made good by your industry. i "Whar' your integrity has caused yopt-. to hunt up de owner ob a logt dOlltf , ^ bill your luck has made you a two-dol-, "lar friend ebery time. "You hev carried no motto on yotfc^ back for de world to read, but your pew rent has alius bin paid in advance, an* your cupboard am neber empty. ' "You has not demanded to be sent to de Legislachur' as a member, bst your nayborhood respecks you an'. oo'ner grocers smile to see you walk in. "Your prayers hev not prevented your nayburs from goin' to sleep, bftC mo' dan one ob 'em would depend oh your kindness in «ase of misfortune. » ' "Your voice lias not bin heard from de stump or rostrum, but your hull. family w'ars woolen undershirts doorin* de winter, an' has ice cream ebery thiid Sunday in de summer. i "You hev writ no poetry, but whet) you sign your name to a note it's fpt - solid as a rock. "Brudder Bottomfall, we am all Ob us pleased to obsarve dese praiseful traits in your ebery day character, an' in pre8entin' you dis medal we aMuro you ob our great esteem an* continued, friendship." The member was completely sur prised, and so great was his embarrass- tnent after receiving the medal that he walked over to the water pail and would have sat down in it had not Elder Daw& son barked his shin with a vigorous - kick.--I>e^o^ Free Press. ^ Hhe Seeded Beat. ? .Fair Patient--"Have you any id^f j what is tlie matter with me, doctor?" v Doctor--"Why, I can diagnose yoii# ! case,'miss with my eyes shut. The«|f is nothing the matter With you except that you need rest." • Fair Patient--"Why, I have just come back from a whole month at U«* most popular health resorts." Doctor--"Yes, as I said, you need.' rest"1-- Philadelphia Call. ^ Strength of character is net uea§, strength of feeling. It is the resolute! ' < restraint of strong feeling. It is un-; SI yelding resistance to whatever would) disconcert us from without or ttnsettfe us from within.--Char 1*8 Dickens. ^ % - I *A.>, -y