©ISAPFOSKTEn HOFJE. ^ i , tSbe VIS Hitting at th<- J attic#, , 'J " the snowy-plum** cl8»MS,.JT "£§• mmIM tfl* to* **•«• _ .. . . . * 4 ' VkK the breez-o suiig ul ridMi dainty tendeniaaMS Of the aa ibeamaon her tussts i J>tt ftt»r tr»r«d In the carca*«» ' Of the srolden mom:n«-ttde. *• The linueta wore a-oooingr. • And Use dtapper bees n^ooing^,«3 ,jf Atid the d«w» were interne AU-ifee flowcr-covero.l tays; ; fa., " 'S«I i |fM. Aililie flower-cov« mitp light y from the disftfe Tlw 7v phyr. loue *fcd 8:Dgi«, .<h«« op to li,t railngie .u tho leal-entangled ttiaa -* -*.r • • « # # . vV 'v i* h me Walts another eomlnf, Hsr heart its ricnes snmi*iay. ..... ,5. 1111 ra daniy n riruiniaing ^ i > ' 1* m tho gravel walk aroae^„_ |y s6» * '^ff "• -tUtf A hop- triumphant filled her, t . jlltjta sf if And clear the word* tljat thrilled her: <&>'••*• * " ' i-jLook here, you, i»ai Matilder-- k Cone an.t knuckle them ar clothes 1" / ; : • .*v* i'w . - i». -'-4 I j OR. MOLTOJi'S MOTHER. V" .--.J •: --S.'.-J?. .. r?t, , .#».*« dsl 4 EyWr ••" The clock on the mantel had just sfcimed one short, musical stroke, ffkwugh the half-closed blinds shone r$he silvery light of the fast-waning moon; the candle had burned loir in rite socket; the log of wood had eon- wertei itself to ashes; but of all this Pr. Bernard Moltoa saw or heard noth ing, as he sat in his office chair, lost in .thought. If the moon had bidden -fche world good-night; if the candle's feeble existence had entirely ceased, and even the reJ glow of the ashes in the grate had died away, he would Still Jiave seen only the picture of the wom an's face whom he loved. ft was with him now as it had been with him for hours past, tince the mo- ment he had placed his fate in Viola 1 Face's keeping, and she had accepted it No wonder that it all seemed new and strange to him--that he was h0edle?s of time and space. She was such a delicate, high born lady, and he --ah, another vision came before him now. Not the cheerful office, with its luxurious appointments--he might at least offer Violet a home worthy of her --but the memory of the days when he bad run, a little, bare-footed lad, about his mother's cottage, and the toiling for tier only child by which she Jiad earned one by one the •dollars which had Sent him first to the village school, and then to the great city to learn the profession for which he longed. . He had succeeded well and bravely, 15: ; beyond his most ambitious hopes; bat the mother who had foiled for him, where was she? Why was it that to night her old, wrinkled face drove even •yjolet Fane's beauty from him? True, he had no longer allowed her f to work; true, she sat at ease in her little cottage, thinking- of, and praying for, her boy, who was so good and gen- i -eroue to her; bnt was it his fault that * ' iiis patients were so many and his hours so precious that he could find-no time ^ Tl to gladden her old heart by a glimpse of him now and then ? ? Aud now--now that he thought of Vioiet as his wife--Violet, with her high-bred ways--Vic let, whose every association was in such a widely differ ent sphere--could it be that he was ashamed of his mother? ̂ The candle died oat euttwsly; the ^^svood Was white ashes now; the moon liad sunk to rest, the clock chimed 2; tral a zed-hot flush burned on Dr. Mol- cheek as he rose to find his way hia room and bed, and perhaps * forgetfulness in sleep, For three long liousa he songht the tvsoh in vain, and when at last it *'k" <0 Mitt# aad "toia -fttn*! *tjtm oiowd, how 1 but dxaaiii of thoeo other eyes * in the far-off home, whicd somehow to-night had GO peroist- ejitlj haunted Ms thoughts? An the little cottage all was bustle, for Itlxs. Moltou had determined to give her boy a surprise, and the train for London started very early. fioaaon! It lay ten loughonrsaway, tt-- « would lie almost uightftdi when she arrived. How glad Bernard would now •be to see her! He had never proposed . '4K* coming, because, he had thought she '•| '̂-aroteld not tiiid the courage; as though for S «. mij3 woidd not do or dare any- |P . JS-ie was sorry sow she had not had ' Che Tillage dressmaker make up the . black silk he had sent her, but it looked JS» grand in its lustrous folds that it (deemed a pity to touch it with the -scissors, ana she would seem more nat ural like to Bernard in her stilf dress How often she had pictured him in *'• lonely home. She hoped he might be out when she arrived, that she might take off her bonnet, and, slipping on her white cap, let him find her, with her knitting in hand, quietly seated by the * fireside, waiting hia return. jj All the way in the train, when at last 4, v*he had got started on her journey, she '» <fc»nl4 hardly keep her happy thoughts ,« to herself; and more than one glanced into the smiling old faoe, wiih a some- •» 'thing tugging at their hearl-strings which almost brought noi«tare into > < their eyes. It was quite nightfall when the city was reached. There had been some •lyjht delay on the road, and tho old g ilady fait a sinking at tho brave heart * „which had prompted her mission. How- - «*«. »he succeeded in finding a cab- ' man willing to take her to the address ehe held in her hand. Qiust be a miiitako^ or lie has v®ll 'wought me to the woog place. Oh, v'ua^B^a^I do?"she sighed,as 1|SF"€-w re^n a large, haqidsome y.v Bouse, presenting a well-lighted front, in one of the most aristocratic portions of M*\fair. Jliit cabby reassured her, and she 14 found herself, surrounded by 8# bundles, faciDg tho for- g^iitleauui" whu< opeaod the over, and he was free to whom* vosdotfttl eyes wool* light up as he esttand, and whose lips would perhaps brash his cheeks with their ̂ velvety satessss. 5 He sprang to foet to seek her, f»fce& the door softly opened, and torn- ling he saw--ooaU it be a dream don- jured up by his restless fancies; of the .night before? -his motftwrl Close be hind h«t was the whettf« wdering, ha'f-apologetio face of kw toiler. It took Mm a fall minate to realite it was :<no deeam, and then (honor to Ms man hood) a sudden, overwhelming tender- :nees swept away all else, and with a glad ory of Mother!* he el««ped her •to his heart. When she had grown calmer and • more at rest, beginning to look around ; and wonder and admire, a little feeling rof irritation began to grow at his heart. Why had she com© t Had he not made all comfortable for her at home ? Here ,she would be constrained, unnatural. And Violet. He could picture the as tonished look wMoh would creep into her ©yes when he said to her, " This is my mothernay, more, the haughty ourve which would gather about her mouth, so rich and ripe, and sweet. So the question at his heart found words, and he scarcely himself knew the innate irritation they betrayed. " Mother, why did yon not let me know you were coming?" " I meant to surprise you, my boy," she answered fondly. * Qui it be that I have done wrong?" " No, no," he hastily replied. " Come, yon must eat and go to bed. Yon need a rest" But, long after he had bidden her good-night, he sat and thought. His mother had come to make her home with him. This was clear. If he told her he willed it otherwise, she would obey him. For a time he planned it out--how he would tell her the city life was not adapted to her needs; and then Violet need never know of the plain, humble little woman--who had not shamed to toil with her own hands that his might be the hands of a gentleman. Oh, shame on Mm! Could he ever wash them dean, even of the thought? No, Violet should know the trnth! He could bear the scorn now in her eyes and in her voice, as she would question him how dared he look up to her, but his mother should share his home and heait to the end. It was too late now to visit Violet to night, but he went up-etai*s, -and, softly turning the knob of the door of tire room where his mother slept, he noise lessly approached the bed, and, bend ing down, touched his lips to the old withered forehead reverently. She started up, with a glad sob of joy. •My boy! my boyt who I thought was not glad to see his mother," He quieted her at last, wondering why his own heart felt so light, and she fell asleep with liis hand tightly clasped in hers. " Yon did not come la«t night," said his betrothed, when, next morning, he stood in her presence. " No, Violet," he answered; ** but I come to day to tell you how unworthy I am of your love. Last night my mother came to me. Nay, do not start! It was Ho visitant from the spirit land, but an actual reality. I have never told you of my mother. Think of it--a man so blessed, and yet dumb! All her life she toiled withpoverty--for whose sake, think you? Her son s--that she might make him a gentleman. God prospered him, and enabled him to take all the burden from her old shoulders, so he thought he had done his duty. He fed the body, but let her heart starve. La't night, in the desperation of her hunger, she sought me out. For a mo ment--oh, bitter humiliation I--my heart rebelled! Think of it, Violet-- the cruel, unnatural pride which would bring into a man's cheek a blush for the woman who bore him S I theught of you, with your pretty, dainty ways, side by side with her plain and homley ones. I knew the two never could be recon ciled, and so, Violet, I have come to ask you to forget me. My heart, my home, are my mother's henceforth and for ever. for a .auspicious shortness of a portion .of his attire, which his knees, where they JtwM stiff, leather leggings, the would have dropped Mm * 4o<!#0<fe office hours, ' m response to her feeble appeal, ** It's aa much as my * is worfcb to lake ioyoar casd." ftut ( have no card. He'll see me. I'm --I'm--" tiat Hhedid not finish the sentence-- - "tapped inside the door and stood ^ Ah© light of the S T'he man looked askanoe it the sin- Utrapparition. Her hat was crushed id bunt, her dress bore etjdence of Of travel, and in her hand was hand-box, containing the hat + -r .Wiito a8toaiHh the Londoners. v_ indeed, ma'am--" the man bacan t>at t he Old lady walked steadily oil to door, beneath whose threshold she * of light. !'«< u? m 'H il^ th"tiuae burned ^° ]°^? cheek- Tae m°m- » d*wu kui diMtpated the foolish ttMhs night. Hi« duties for Had the man some lingering hope that the girl before him would refuse the sacrifice ? Certainly an added look of suffering grew into his eyes as she answered nothing, only laid her hnml in his a moment, as if in farewell. His visits seemed very long, very weary, all that day, but, as he crossed the home threshold at nightfall, he smoothed the frown from his brow as he remarked: / /- " She must suspect notMng." He would find her, he knew, in his study. As he softly opened the door he anticipated her cry of, "My boy!' as she tremblingly rose to greet him; but ah! he had not anticipated the picture which met his gaze. His mother was sitting, indeed, in the arm chair by the fire, but at her feet, her head resting in her lap, while the old fingers carelessly stroked the luxuriant chestnut hair, was another figure, wMch rose, instead, to welcome him. "Bernard." the sweet voice whispered in his ear, "I lost, my mother when I was a baby. It has been so sweet to find one again 1 You said,' Henceforth your home and heart were hers.' Oh! my love, may we not share the feoon?" Old Folks. Do the young people pv r thipk that they will be old, that they will soon feel that the giasthoppor is a burden and fear in the way ? Only a few short years ago that ai?ed man and feeble woman were young, btrong and full of life; their loving hearts were gushing with tenderness and care for tht> little ones who now stand in their places. Do not jostle that aged couple out of your pathway, but rather lift them with tender care over the rough, declining road. You may have forgotten how carefully they kept your tender feet from stumbling, and with what care they watched your advancing feteps. But they have not forgotten, and the time will come when yon will be forcibly re minded of it by the love you have for your own little ones. Will they ever hand you the same bitter cap to drink that you pour out for that aged father and stucken mother? Verily, "with what measure ye me it, it shall be meas ured to you again." Think of the anxious days and nights your mother has watched by your sick-bed; remem ber her loving tears, her patience and long-suffering with your freifulnes?, acd then let the blush of shame dye your brow, that you should be impatient or unkind to her, now that she is old. Old folks are fcuch a tiiill Yes, they know it; they feel it; and so will you be such a trial to your children in the days that will surely come--Ay, and you will remember, tool FARM HOM Do not allow your maaut* to burn er scald in the winter; turn it over occa sionally and it will be pre tented. WITH all the pretensions of the oow to sobriety she generally insists on having a horn Mr two before breakflMt. VARIOUS plants affect milk. Hone radish has a tendency to prevent <MN#> ulatioi), and wood sorrel will hasten it.' EXPERIMENTS prove that there is no ' ff©d for cows st» well ealeulated to pro-' duoo gilt^ugeil m i'oi. alov&c in bloom. • AM advance of L oent a pound in the price of butter means nearly $10,090,- 000 to tne total value of production of • the country for one year. I TUBNIPS are healthful for horses, i They should be cat in slices, or what is 1 better, pulped finely and mixed with a { little meal and salt. Rutabagas are bet- J tor than white turnips. RYE straw is as valuable as the grain in Pennsylvania in the manufacture of paper. With the increased acreage of the season just closed (3,500,000 bush els) the yield is not equal to the de mand. A O&KAT deal of superior tobacco was raised in the hilly portions of Ohio and Kentucky last season, aud the cheap lands of those districts %re rapidly com ing info. request lor growing the weed. Some of the roughest Mils produce the finest tobacco. A OSX.LAR that Is coo!, dry and dirk, and yet well ventilated, is she best place for preserving potatoes in large quanti ties. When smaller quantities ar© to be preserved there is nothing like dry sand. The same may be said of fruits and roots of all sorts. PLANT tansy at the roots of your pi am-trees, or hang branches of the pl mt on the limbs of the trees, and you will not be annoyed with curculio. An old and successful fruit-grower fur nishes the above, and says it is the most successful curculio preventive he ever tried. MB. J. O. EDWAKDS, of England, re marks: "Any man who has seen a turnip deems himself qualified to ad vise the farmer, and though each sings to a different tune the burden of the song is the same--that the farmer is in fault and needs setting right." A COKTEMPO&ART thinks if farmers would avoid suddenly cooling the body after great exertions, be careful not to go with wet clothing and wet feet, not to over-eat when in an exhausted con dition, and would bathe daily, uaing much friction, they would have little or no rheumatism. E. M. WASHBURMK, in speaking of the oare of dairy oattlo, soys: "In the best dairies of North Holland there is but a very small amount of grain fed to the cows or young stock, and of all I have imported I have never had one that would eat grain without teaching, by mixing with hay or roots, or some root they were accustomed to eat." THE first year a sheep's front teeth are eight in number, and all of equal size. The second year the two middle shed out, and are replaced by two much larger than the others. The third year two very small teeth appear on either side of the eighth. At the end of the fourth yeirf there are six large teeth. The fifth year all the front teeth are large. The sixth year all begin to show signs of wear. AN Illinois agricultural writer cays: "The East aud West railroad lines, hoping to get their share of the benefits of the ' boom' in business, have raised freight charges to nearly the old-time formidable proportions. In consequence of this a growl, low and sullen, has be gun to make itself heard, and there are those who see the speoterof the Granger figured on the dark clouds of a storm now apparently rising in the distant political horizon. With all its follies, and its inconsequential management, it is certain the Grange movement was the means of reforming great abuses in the matter of transportation; and it is possible that it or some similar organ ization may be needed to force the rail roads again into respect for the consti tution and obedience to the law*.* ednees ef the man's life it waa hard to think of anything that eouUt-be ad- foittt to gratify Una ttitfralmm^oii the part of the bereaved ones, but final ly ft friend pre-en t suggested thattfcey could at least say that * the deceased was considerably better than his fi- ther."--Hartford Post. THE POCASSET FIIH0. HOUSEHOLD ECOXOKT. $r. A Dog Bathing-Vaster. Our faithful friend Jet, a powerful dog, lived with us on the Naves-ink Highlands. One summer we had a bright little fellow who, although not in the least vicious, yet had a boy's pro pensity to destroy, and to injure, and to inflict pain. Master Willie loved Jet dearly, and yet he would persist in tor turing the patient dog outrageously, striking hard blows, punching with sharp sticks, and pulling hair cruelly. One summer's afternoon Jet was lying on the front piazza, taking a nap, and Willie came out and assaulted him with a new carriage-whip, which had been left in the hall. Jet knew the child ought not to have the whip, so he went aud called the nurse's attention, as he often did when the children were get ting into mischief or danger. But the girl did not give heed, as she should have done, and Willie kept on following Jet from place to place, plying the lash vigorously. Finding he was left to deal with the csise himself. Jet qnietly laid the young one on the floor, care fully took a good grip in the gathers of his little frock, lifted him clear, and gave him a hearty, sound shaking. Then he took up the whip, trotted off to the barn with it, came back, stretched himself out iu the shade, and finished Ms nap. The young gentleman did not interfere with Mm again, and ever afterward treated him with great con sideration. MotMng delighted the dog mere than to go into tho water with the young folk, and to see the bathing-smts brought out always put him iz. the highest spirits. The children called Mm "the boas of the bathing-ground," and so he was, as he made all hands do just as he pleased. He would take them in and bring them out again, as he thought fit, and there was no use ia resisting him, as he could master half- a-dozen at once in the water. No one could go beyond certain bounds, either, under penalty of being brought back with m«reliaMe than ceremony. But, within the proper limits, he never tired of helping the bathers to have a good time, frolicUng with them, carrying them on Ms back, towing them through the water, letting them dive off his shoulders, and playing leap-frog.--St. Nicholas : ...r Eulogy by Comparison The following did not ooour ford, but just near enough to make it interesting; At the funeral of every rich, tot unprincipled man, tine rela tives and friends were anxious to have some eulogistic -remarks made on the merits of the deoeaaed by the minister officiating. In view of the utter wiok- THINGS TO REMEMBER. That fish may be sealed mash easier t»f dippiaig iu boiling WKler about a minute. ; That fish may as well be scaled if d«i|red before packing down in salt, thoqgh in that case do not scald them. Silt fish are quickest and best fresh ened by soaking in sour milk. That milk wMch is turned or changed may be sweetened and ren dered fit for use again by fetirriag in a little soda. That salt will curdle new miik; hence, in preparing milk porridge, gfavies, etc., the salt should not be add ed until the dish is prepared. That fresh meat after beginning to •our, will sweeten if placed out of doors in the cool over night. That clear boiling water will remove tea stains and mmy fruit stains. Pour the water through the stain and thus prevent its spreading over the fabric. Thai ripe tomatoes will remove ink and other stains from wMte oloth; also from tho handc. That, a teaspoonful of turpentine boiled with your white clothes will aid the whitening process. That boiled starch is much improved by the addition of a little sperm, or a little salt, or both, or a little gum Ara bic dissolved. That beeswax and salt will make your rusty flat irons as clean as gla *s. Tie a lump of wax in a rag and keep for that purpose. When the irons are hot, rub them first with the wax rag, and then •eour with a paper or (doth sprinkled with salt. ' That blue ointment and kerosene mixed in equal proportions, and ap plied to bedsteads, is an unfailing bod- bug remedy, and that a coat of wMte- wash is ditto for the walla of a log house. That kerosene will soften boots or •hoes which have been hardened by water and render them as pliable as new. That kerosene will make tin kettks bright as new. Saturate a woolen rag and rub with it. It will also remove stains from the (dean varnished furrn- ture. That cool rain water and soda will remove macMne grease from washable fabrios. Every one ot these receipts is unfail ing. Cut out this slip and place it in a book for reference. • r Woman's Kerrfe A tall lady with a saturnine counten ance went into the Virginia CNev.) Chronicle office and demanded of one of the reporters if Virginia offered a good field for a series of a dozan lect ures on -woman suffrage. "I don't think th& Comstockers have thought much abaut female suffrage," replied the reporter frankly. Don't say female," said the tall lady sharply. "Why not?"aaked the reporter, inin- nooent surprise. "Because, sir, a term that is used to describe sex in animals should not be applied to women." Th'e reporter admitted, in great hu miliation, that the point was well taken, and looked up in some alarm at the severe countenance of the lady, who was a head taller than himself and man ifestly able to thrash him in the inter est of progress, if SJ disposed. The stern countenance softened somewhat at the signs of confessed inferiority, however, and the lady continued: " The cause of woman is the cause of humanity. The cause of humanity em braces all progress. Why, then, should the people of Virginia be indifferent to woman ?" " They're not I" cried the small report er, hastily. "Far from it. Woman is the boss in this camp. EverytMng she wants she gets, and not one in a hun dred has to do a lick of work." "Mere toys," said the tall one, with deep scorn. "Playthings for an idle hour. You cover woman with silks and gauds and sink her soul into insignifi cance by circumscribing her sphere and allowing her no mission in life." "Well," admitted the small reporter, "that's about the way we look at it up here, that's & fsot. Women haven't got the nerve to raatle for themselves like men." "Ner-r-r-ve!" She uttered this word in a terrific tone, so terrific that the small reporter half rose from his chair. "NerveJ What is there requiring nerve that you do that I am incapable of?" "No offense, madam, no offense. I meant nothing personal, I assure you." "Am I not stronger than you?" she demanded, scorning the apology. "Am I not gifted with as great a brain ? Why do you despise my sex? We can bear more pain, and are, therefore, your su periors in courage." The small reporter was gazing fixed ly at dark corner of the room, aud made no answer. "Nerve, indeed!* continued the tall lady; "why, women have infinitely more nerve than men. Only yesterday I saw a woman--" "That's the biggest rat I ever saw in the office," said the small reporter, staring intensely at the corner. The screams that rent the air brought in all the printers acd several citisens from the street. When they arrived the tall one was standing on a chair with one hand covering her eyes and the other convulsively clutching at her skirts as she gathered them close around her. The small reporter wisely took advan tage of the crowd to alip out, and he telegraphed from Gold Hill that he was going down to Carson to work up a big item.--Virginia City Chronicle. V. Errors*' :. 'SJm Get quit of the absurd idea inai Heaven will interfere to correct great errors, while allowing its laws to take their own course in punishing small ones. If food is carelessly prepared, uo ones expect® Providence to make it palatable; neither, if through 3ears of folly you misguide your own life, need you expect divine interference to biing around everything at last for the best. I tell you positively the world is not so constituted. The consequences of great mistakes are just as sure an those of •mall ones, and the happiness of your whole life, and ef all the Uvea over whieh you have power, depends as literally on your common sense and discretion as the excellence and ord«r of tta f east of a day.--Run kin. Kilted After A Vivien- N* Indite that II® Only Vfellowed tt>«KsMaple,,r Abraham. the Second Ad- ventist who killed Ma child in Pooasaet, Mass., last May, was Sf oantly arraigned in eourt, and, it being testified by med- ioal experts that the man was insane, he was remanded to jail to await the May twm of the court, when, if his condi tion remains the same, he will be sent to a lunatic asylum. Freeman still persists in his assertion that the sacri fice of his child was a ju9t and proper aot, and was demanded of him in a vision. It will be remembered that, after 4 prolonged revival in MB sect, he asvoke his wife in the early morning of May 1 last and told her tint he had seen God in a vision, who had required of him that, as Abraham had obeyed the call to sacrifice Isaac, BO should he offer up his little daughter Edith as a human sacrifice. Then, after both had prayed, the mother went back to her bed and Freeman sought a sharp knife. The 5-year old daughter slept in the next room. Bending over her as she slept, Freeman drove the knife through her heart. She opened her eyes and, as the father afterward freely related the circumstances, cried out feebly, "Oh, papal" and died. Freeman lav down beside his wife again, and both Blept peacefully until mojnmg. He confidently expected that the child would rise again on the third day. Though his neighbors of the same sect appear to have known of the murder, none of them informed the authoiitiee, and it was only by accident that the crime was discovered. The wife was discharged after a shoit imprisonment, but it does not appear that she has ever expressed any'peni tence for her acquiescenco iu the mur der. As for Freeman himself, and in spite of his disappointment that a part of his expectation was not fulfilled, and that the child did notoome to life again in the promised season, he is still firm in his conviction that the sacrifice was a divine command. He has been a con stant reader of religious works during his imprisonment, particularly of the latest edition of the hymnal of the Methodist Episcopal church. He claims still to be a member of tbat church, differing from its tenets* he says, only in believing that Christ will come a second time. Freeman openly scouts at the idea that he is insane. It was with the greatest difficulty that his counsel could induce him to permit tne plea of insan ity; indeed, he objected to having coun sel at all. "All Christians," he said to a reporter lat>t summer, "believe that Abraham was commanded to sacrifice B&ML If they can believe that, why are my religious fello w-worshipi ra blamed for believing with me thai I was commanded to sacrifice my daughter iu these latter days? I believe, with a perfect abiding faith, that I was so com manded to show my faith. I had hopes when I went to the shed to get the knife that God would stay my hand, as He did Abraham's as he was about to offer up Isaac, but I determined that, if my hand was not stayed, to make the sacrifice as gently as possible, so that my idol would pass away without suffer ing." Freeman said, just after the murder, that whatever course w&0 taken With them, he and his wife did not want any plea of insanity entered. He admitted that he undertook the act with a full understanding of what he was doing. He knew tiiat lie was violating the law. He knew that people would look upon it as a horrid crime, and he knew that it would be agony for him to take the life of Ms little daughter. " Why," he said, " she was playing around with me while I was at work all last week, and do you think I could do suoh a tMng unless something more powerful than insanity commanded me ? " When asked by a gentleman whether he did not think it a delusion to be lieve that God put things into the hearts of men to do, he at once respond ed : Do you think it a delusion when your minister tells you that God put it into his heart to preach the gospel, or that God directed him to become a .mis sionary ? Now, I just as firmly believe that God put it into my heart---that is, spoke to me--to do that act, that the world might see that there was faith even as great as Abraham's. I did think tbat He would stay my hand be fore I struck the blow. I can't 6ee any difference between my firm belief that God spoke'to me end the firm belief of others that they have boen in personal commuuion with God." When urged by his counsel to allow the plea of insanity--it was not until the last moment that he consented-- he said: " What will become of my past life aud teachings it I am adjudged in sane? Let me go into court and preach." A suggestion for a change of venue he would not listen to for a mo ment. " It is not biblical," he said, "to go out of the country which stood up before His enemies in Jerusalem." He seems perfectly sane on all other sub jects, aud expresses the utmost iudiffer- ence as to the result of the trial. " I have done God's will," he says, "as Ab raham was prepared to do. If I did wrong, Abraham was guilty and Genesis is a fable." Mrs. Freeman says that for ten days before the sacrifice they both felt the presence of God iu their house, and that during that time her husband fasted continuously, eating nothing but bread and crackers and drinking nothing but water. The night of the crimj, after they had prayed, while great dro] a of sweat stood on his forehead, and she begged that she be made the sacrifice, he said that he had prayed for two weeks that he himself might be the one called, but that the vision he had just had demanded the life of their beat-be loved daughter. " I told her," says Freeman, "that we could not risk the displeasure of God, and when I per suaded her that Edith would either I e restored to us after three days or else would be translated, then she assented. She saw that it was a divine command " Then, as he expresses it, his soul was filled with peace, and he prepared with his wife to make the sacrifice. The morning before the murder, Freeman sent word around the village that he would make a revelation known and offer an orthodox sacrifice. At 3 o'clock in the afternoon after the crime, a number of Second Adventists assembled at his house. The deed had been performed with cool deliberation, and accompanied with what was intend ed to be an impressive religious cere mony. Ihe little one's blood was pourt d out upon a table wbioh was improvised as an altar. When he was arrested, one ef the indignant townspeople cried out: ' "Kill the murdeiet." "No; he is to m ' murderer," regitod one of the fanatics, in God." The doctors call it delusional insanity of a religious type. ' ME •^yocw>i,^ To ctm* hoarseness, beat the whites of two egg* add a pint of lukewarm wa«*r, stir wall and drink often. It is very simple, cannot hurt any one, and sometimes aeto. upon the throat like a charm, bmvfaMtog all hoarseness. CROUP PMEVENTIVK. -- First get a piece of chamois skin, make it like a little bib* cut the neck, and sew on tapes to tie it on; then melt together •Otte tf£iow and pine tar; rub some of this in the ehamoi* and let the wear it all the tiaw. Renew with the tar occasionally. . HOT lemonade is one of 4he best reme dies for oolds, 48 it acts promptly and efficiently, and has n? unpleasant after effects. One lemon should be properly squeezed, cut in slices, put with sugar and covered with half a pint of boiling water. Drink just beft. re going to bed, and do not expose yourself the follow ing day. The remedy will work off an attack of chills and fever, if it is prop erly used. . FOB POISONS.--If any poison is swal lowed, drink instantly a half a glass of Cool water, with a heaping teaspoonful of commdn salt and ground mustard stirred into it. Thia vomits as soon as it readies the stomach. But, for fear some of the poison may remain, swallow the white of one or two eggs, or drink a cup of strong coffes--these two being antidotes for a greater number of poisons than any other dozen of articles known, <• ith the advantage of their be ing always on hand; if not, a pint of sweet oil, lamp oil, drippings, melted butter or lard, are good substitutes, es pecially if they vomit quiekly. TREATMENT OF SORB THROAT.--Great relief is obtained by wearing all night a nice soft bran poultice. Well redden ing the breast with turpentine takes away the harsh, dry pain of a common cold. A dram and a half of dried alum, with two and a half drams of capsicum tincture, a little sirup, and eight ounces of rose-water, form a nice gargle for the relief of hoarseness and that trouble some complaint known as falling of the uvula. Again, for sore throat, what can be better than a gargle of the fol lowing?--Three drams of laudanum, half that quantity of tincture of bella donna, and eight ounces of camphor- watt r. Lastly, I may mention this fact, roi known to everyone: In jpain- ful inflammations of the throat; and in cases of gam-boil, a dose of Epsom salts cannot fail to do positive good, especially if the patient is at 'all plethoric.--Cassell's Magazine. HEALTH WITHIN BEAOH OY ALL The only true road to health is that which common sense dictates to man. Live within the bounds or reason. Eat mod erately, drink moderately, sleep regu larly, avoid excess in anything and pre serve a conscience void of offense. Some men drink themselves to death, some wear out their lives by indolence and some by over-exertion; others are killed by doctor®, while not a lew sink into the grave under the effeots of vioious and beastly practices. All the medi- oines in creation are not worth a cent to a man who is habitually and con stantly violating the laws of his own nature. All the meditfal science in the world cannot save him from a prema ture grave. With a suicidal course of conduct he Is planting the seeds of de cay in his own constitution aud acceler ating the destruction of his own life. - Mters Among Dead Bodies. " j ' "When to the silence and loneliness of ocean or river depths are added the blackness of darkness and the dread presence of death, the diver must needs have courage who boldly descends. In the operations at the Tay bridge, the less, experienced divers were by some suspected of succumbing to the terrors of the situation. If there were any hu man bodies there they were imprisoned in a double prison of carriage and cage like girder. It was impossible for any diver quickly to clutch at the body, and, ere he had time to think of his ghastly work, to procure by signal the iustant withdrawal of himself and sol emn burden to the surface. The work involved patient and deliberate hand ling of the dead in the dark and silent deep, and few who suspected the divers of shrinking from this task felt brave enough themselves to blame them seri ously for it. The suspicion, after all, had probably bat small foundation; at least two of the divers strongly de clared that no "eerie feeling" would prevent them doing their duty, and said that if necessary they would be glad to bring up the dead even in their arms. Still, the very way in which these men talk of this subject seems to show that below water they cannot faoe the dead with the callousness of men who are brought into contact with bodies on shore; that, in fact, they have to reason with themselves againtt a natural timidity. "My duty," said one diver at the Tay, "is to the living. When 1 go down to find the dead, 1 feel that I am going down to do what I can for the people they belong to, and that it is not the dead I have to be frightened of, I think of the friends to whom the bodies are to be restored, and nothing would give me greater pleasure than to give them their only satisfaction." If death and darkness do inspire timidity even in these hardy men, it is sometimes oven more difficult for the diver to go among the dead in the light of day. "The hor rible conceit of death and night" is matched by the reality, as seen, for ex ample, by the divers at the Princess Alice, when they met the cold stare of the group of cabin passengers who had clung together iu agony as the' ship went down; or as experienced by certain divers who refused to recover wrecked treasure at the Faroe islands because they saw dead sailors in the rigging, and could not bear the sight--Zondon News. Blunders* Few attributes of character sî jnumi charming than the faculty of gracefully acknowledging one's errors. The man who makes a blunder and sticks to it is a person with whom argument or controversy becomes impossible. The trouble and time spent in attempting to convince him of the truth are com pletely wasted; for he will still believe that what he has advanced must be right, even iu the face of actual de monstration that it is wrong. On the other hand, of the action of one who will admit with frank and ready cour tesy that he has been mistaken, it may be said that it " blesseth him that gives and him that takes"--it covers his own retreat with gracefulness, and gives his adversary a pleasant memory of an «*> counter with a generous foe. *r uonu. TBg=zrTTgJ8l r»ie not tkotrnj la ImfnflliS |TII m «*. Xdto* c osing • B.fore 0{ Oh, fl«ttna*1wl JttiBt mack* o-ar Like mlraRN hi desert trcate. We stsnd wi Ilia the rea tn» < f abaSM. Be .ore thilr Bpbynx of bortict i Thcns'a -»! liere t ia thyfrnrtan-'l r.ow| Th«n f>i «J«sth ctimed thy toriiue 1 brow And hushed, the Totorthftt canar r»reg)e<a, I'M r1*(J to know liftt'4 llcft> at * ins1 -WSrpie eaeli other--WWne acd tl. Vet, tftna. more bitt< r are the leal. BBABBOXA'S OKOVB, in. vfiTIK AHD FOOT. * TTIKRD wear--Tight boots. . A TOBHADO is a great blow ld &nj country. ^ PomtflTTr Mm. fitiag tho msid oi all work. You can't go a sleighing witboui snow, nor a buggy-riding without reins THE pin is mightier than the fward loucansit on the sward with impunity A TRAMP, and Keely's motor, and Edi £on'd lamp are all alike--they won' work. TH TT author of the familiar phrase "Sheot the hat," was an Austrian tyrani named Gessler. SMOKING 1 centVworth bftofeacco a $50 pipe is like dressing a sctrcoron in a seal-skin sack. ', { SPICER aays his collar-button is like the celebration of the Fourth of July- it is sure to come off. IF you want eggs in wiater, nevei keep old hens. When a hen is 3 ye art old, sell her for a spring chicken. HORRID little thing, without a set o bangs to her name," is the newest Chi oago phrase for describing a rival. "TILL US not in ccouraful numbers Life is but an tmp y d> earn," When milk ia seveii centB a quati And raises mighty little cream. ABTEMTTS WARD once said thai, a lit will live. If this is tho case, nearly, all the works of Eli Perkins are immoil tal. ~ A THINKER. Le kept rl^ht on tliiiiUoK i&f - wi h® kept right on driuklas; r r Saving Uo you think?*' 4'Why do you drink*" - •• ^.t xh y parted, t acli at t other winking. LAURA (with novel)--"Oh, if this tah were only true and I were the heroine 1. Kate--•" What I with her persecutions] her misery?" Laura--"Ah, but then! dear, remember she does get a hosbandl after all." "Is rr possible, miss, thai you do no] know the names of some of your best friends?" inquired a gentleman of 1 lady. "C*rkainly," she replied; "I cfon'i even know what my own will be a yeai hence." WE have heard of somo Indians ou« West who captured a lot of kerosene ill a wMsky-barrel, and diank some thinking it was liquor, and when thei. discovered their mistake and sat dowij to smoke and think the matter over, the results were frightful. Now,. Guilt' it's your turn. AT a christening, while the ministei was making his certificate he inquirec the day of the mouth aud happened tc say: "Let me see, this is the thirti eth." " The thirtieth!" exclaimed tM indignant mother, "indeed, but it'* only the nineteenth." "SKK that my grave's kept he warbled, under the window of hii fair one's domicile; one pleasant mgfrt "III tend to the gravt> business, yottni man, shouted her enraged paternal an cestor, as he poked au old musket oul 'of ihe second-story window. No more concert that evening. THE mysteries of a baby's toilet w«re altogether new to a little 1-year-old, and he carefully watched the bathing and dressing of his little cousin. Vj»en the little powder-box was open, and\he fluff brush was about to be used unde*. neath the baby's chin, he exclaimed, " Oh, aunty, let me-see you salt her." THERE was • young damsel, ob,blesf her! It cost very little to dress her; flfce waa sweet aa a roee , IN her evtry-day clotties.^ viBut ta31.0 joung man to c»re»« her-r ,:; ftecafase, you see, she had givea the mitten to the only fellow in the neigh borhood, and the amount of sweetne^ir she wss therefore obliged to waste upon the desert air Was pimply enough to dit'r^ra her. A LITTLE miss had long desired a sis ter for a playmate, anr', having been taught to ask God for everything, she asked Him for a sister, telling her mother she would do t he praying if she would make the clothes. After pray ing several nights and getting a little impatient that her request was not granted, she said one night: " O Lord, please send me a little sister right away. If you haven't got a white one, send me & black one." This same little girl was corrected by her mother the other day for being naughty. " Well, I can't help it," she eaid; "when you prayed for me why didn't you pray for abetter child?" " • v .*• f5; Napoleon's Demeellc HaMts. In Mme. De Bemusat's * Memoirs of fie Phvjte Li'e of Napoleon and Jose phine" are some very interesting de tails of the imperial Iiomeliold. Na poleon's income was about $7,100,000 a j year, exclusive of what he took from tho secret service and other funds. He al- \ lowed himself $8,000 a year for his dress. It is well known that if an aiti?le of clothing did not suit him exactly, either in make or material, it was con demned, aud that he was greatly given to inking or greasing Ms white breeches and to burning his boots by using Ms boot as a poker, especially when he was angry or excited. He usually rose at 7. If he wakened in the night he frequent ly bathed, ate or worked before goingT^ to sleep again. He suffered from a foul stomaoh, and often fancied tbat he had been poisoned. It took M. De Bemosat a long time .jto tsaoh Mm to *fcave him self; the Chamberlain was moved to this through Napoleon's visible uneasi ness when in the barber's hands. If a garment did not please Mm it was torn!' off aud thrown on the floor or into the fire. In trimming Msnaile, of whieh lie was vain, he used countless pairs of scissors, that were smashed off-hand if they were not sharp. The only perfume he was partial to was cologne, of whieh he required sixty bottles a mouth. He » ate and drank little, though he was veil** fond of ooflfee. At dinner he had every-i^ thing served at once, and fed at hazard; often fadung cream or a dish of sweets before touching the entrees. « THE first balloon ascension in th«;.t; United States was made in PMIadelphia on Jan. 9,179S by Mr. Blanchard. The ascent was witnessed by a large crowd of spectators, among whom was Gefcr •i'tv * •..a?,?;" ' I