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THi: OCEAN PHBBL& O MMiddc pebWe, what thy tale, Wli«redui atnb are hmnao lipfe, f wr."'i, or pirate H®1\ Or the fcki S«iwmwi'» rhipsf . In conwrsc with the wondrous !«| W$>ow murmurs never sleep, _ • whispers haunt thy rent tKirfa# The threshold of the deep? •":. ||j|*nt M. a single star might I* * Wlrtre space begina hef HffB, ^|)T tiibe bwMc eternity, to Art thou beside the mala. ifldiitt «hrinks before thy pest, O woHd within a world jf i1 I|i^,i;|it lp» hv fiery waves upoagt, _ Or icy torrents hurlc<l. llore eloquent than tonguA or pan »i ,if Hi Beside thy story's worth, ' '. What are the feeble words of men, The written books of earth T ltd yet 1 hold thee in my haad, Th'm key that should unlock tie awful door of secrets grand. Whereat I vainly knock. wv V. STORY OF A PICHTTRE. ! •; . BY KATE DD1IAS. When Madge Ellis was a child I was laken as a servant into her father's fam­ ily. He was a doctor, and was consid- ernd a very good practitioner and a Cultivated aiid talented man. His wife tnt-s a sweet-tempered, loveable little l ^oman, aiid, as I liked them and they liked me, I have grown old in their ser- : Idee, for I was not very young when I Sent there. Other children beside [adge were born into the family, and, 'i*tfien she had reached the age of 18, the ; doctor rejoiced in the fact that lie was ? 'the father of as likely a family as could lie fonnd in the whole Sucker State--let i •' Alone the town of Hamburg, where he ) lived. But, as my stofy has to do with | dear will, " how can you make fun of him? If I had known you were going to do that, I shouldn't have read it to you." She sailed out of the room like a tragedy queen and I looked after with * helpless feeling of having made a mi%>, take. What was the trouble? I had laughed at letters not half so foolish^ signed by fellows every bit as sharp ail Allen, and she had laughed with m<% But without any reason that I could secy my lady must flare up and get very dig-. nified. After this I watched her. She was as cordial and polite as evei in he£ intercourse with everybody ; but I sav.* change in her. Whether others saw it or not I couldn't tell, for I wouldn't be. the one to call attention to it. I knevr' that letters passed between her and Allen, but after that one, I never was told anything concerning them -Well, the next spring here came Allen to " visit friends in Illinois." I knew very well what he came for, from the way he and Madge met. They said nothing, but they clasped hands and looked deep into each other's eves. In a moment the tell-tale blood had man­ tled to her cheek, and he smiled, well satisfied. Then he turned to greet the others. All that spring and part, of the summer he stayed. He and Madge took in all the concerts, lectures, theatere, ete. Buggy rides without numl»er were sprinkled in, too, and people began won­ dering when the wedding was to corns off. 1 could have told them, for one evening I came upon them in the or­ chard under ths old tree where the chil­ dren had their swing and the rustic seat. "Madge, my darling," he was saying, "you have kept me at arm's length long enough. Come to me, love, of your own Come, and let me feel that I Madge and not the rest, I will only de- t have a right to press you to this breast, scribe. her. Will you not? Then I must take my She was a brunette, with great flash-, own." And he caught her eagerly to his ing brown eyes and a bright color in her breast and showered kiss after kiss on cheeks. Her lips, the color of a ripe j cheek, brow and hair, until she threw her arms around his neck, and with her cheek against his promised to go back with him in the fall as his wife. EL PASO, 111. OUR LITTLE FOLKS. MOW Ot'B SBTH TALKS. Ahoy I know *ho, If telling The truth, daily dies some new death; Ho martyr--rduion compelling - Has suffered so much as our 8ath! He "roasts" nil the summer, and "free»e»" As soon HS autumnal winds blow; He has his "death-eold" if he sneezes; la ••buried" iu one foot of suow. He's "staivlng" before be has dinner, He's ' stuffed" like a turkey when threvgh; He's "tickled to death" when he's winnec; And "ready to die" when 'ti# you. iile's "just tired to death" when be only Has run a short race with his mates; If kept in bv rain he grows lonely,-- Ha "can't live till night,"--so he state*. He's "dying to know" what comes after, In tales that he rend? with delight; Or " thought !>e should die" of much laughter Or "neorly expire" with affright. Thus over nnd over we hear it,-- This dismal death song that he slogs; Yet bod/ U still joined to spirit. And Seth h&» developed no wings. --Royal Road. «cherry, parted over milk-white teeth *' A sight for saireen"was tlie verdict of some of her male friends, while the girls of her "set" wondered how any one could rave so over that " great big tiling," for she was a trifle above the medium, so far as avoirdupois was con­ cerned, but so exquisitely proportioned • and of so faultless a "build " that one admired her the more for this plumpness, j She did not lack for admirers, who' '* "were willing to back up their admira- j ' tion with a good substantial offei of mar- ' -T-Jriaee. But she seemed to care for none , $f them. " There are so many things I should if I should get married fiave to give up . -- little, harmless flirtations and such. £then I would not dare to marry any i>ne when I didn't care a fig for him, juid then be in his company all the - time. I know L should hate him in a » little while," she used to say to me, for * Ishe trusted me to an almost-unlimited ' • Extent. *' But, what about the picture ?" Jrou will ask. " The picture I set out to talk of was a " photograph of herself. She had some j *' taken the summer that she was 20, and | ' they were, as her brother Tom said, t ;4" simply immense." The arrangement 1 * «f the hair had a happy effect, the eyes j had just enough light in them, and the j , . , ,, ... , ,, Y lips were just parted, showing the grand I j1*8 k°st s library. I will take these * firmness of which she was capable, ! two volumes of 'Humes Essays, he lihouid occasion require. j remarked, as he put them m his saddle- These were distributed among her I ^gs, "and try to read them this win- i £• frameroas friends, said one of them i ^erv ^ the spring he returned them. The Natural Orator. "The orator is born, not made," say certain critics. The assertion is contra­ dicted by so manv exceptions that it cannot be received as a general rule. It is, however, verified in the career of some great orators. The most notable case, in the annals of American orators, is that of Patrick Henry. The bees of Hymettus touched his lips, as they did those of Plato, while slumbering in his cradle. He lisped in eloquence, as Pope did in numbers. Henry was a natural orator, but he was "only that and nothing more." Mr. Jefferson, who knew him well, and often listened spell-bound to his elo­ quence, says he was neither a man of education nor a we'l-read lawyer. Wirt, in his "Life of Henry," which should more properly be entitled Wirt's " Romance," says he read "Plutarch's Lives" once a year. " I don't believe," said Mr. Jefferson, " he ever read two volumes of them." One November, on leaving Jefferson's house, Henry selected two books from A Child lu the H A child in the ho.tse! I should think so--several of them. As we open the front door we bang agfcinst a something on wheels. It is the baby's carriage. "A very improper phvee," says Mrs. Primrose, a child-liater, who is my com­ panion; "I don't see how folks Live so overrun by children." But I look inside the tiny vehicle, and see the pillow, with a little hollow in the middle, where baby's pretty curly head "Fm glad yon do. Well, we must go," rising and walking about the room. "What pictures! Two children kissing each other, a.naked baby, a child crying over a dead bird--bah! I should think, Mrs. Fanning, you would want some­ thing grown-up once in a while." "i am grown up, myself, and I like contrasts," said mamma, laying down her work and inviting us into tlie garden. In going out we encountered the carriage again, and in reply to my companion's frown, mamma explained that the chil­ dren amused baby a,n hour at a time by wheeling him in the long, broad hull. As Ave opened , the kitchen door Mrs. Primrose ran against Nell, upset the ba­ sin of water where the little one was making soap-bubbles, and broke her pipe. What was far worse in the lady's estimation, some of the water splashed upon her own new poplin dress. "Oh dear," she groaned; "well, it's a5 gobd thing that the pipe is broken; the child's no business to be sozzling 'round in the water." "I dot nozzer pipe--free, four, five. Mamma buy me pipes and pipes." "Oh, yes; I keep her in pipes and soap suds; it's the cheapest possible way to entertain her." Mrs. Primrose elevated her nose, head, and all so high that she did not see where she was going. In consequence she stepped directly into a mass of clay, from wliich the thunderers were modeling dogs, cats, mice, etc. "Take caro! you've spoiled my best dog," screamed Jack. "I've been work­ ing at him half an hour, trying to make FARM ROTES. |From (he American Agriculturist for September.] SOWING FALL GRAINS.--The leading farm work for this month in many local­ ities is the sAw ing of the fall crops. One can not expect that the best harvest will i follow a careless preparation of Hie soil, and an imperfect sowing of the seed. Tlie young plants should get well rooted be­ fore winter sets in, and in order to insure this, the soil should be deep and mellow. Wheat requires a soil well pulverized, but compact, with fine tilth of the sur- and why she wanted it, mentioned that she ate her beef cooked rare. " Rare V he repeated. "Rare? Yat ish dat? O, yes.; I know. R-a-r-e--very seldom." Bee Ranching in California. California is a famous country for bees and the making of honey ; and at many a breakfast table in distant Europe to­ day the waffle is spread with the sweets that have been filched from the hearts of a thousand California flowers. In the mouth of almost every canyon there is a bee-ranch or apiary, whose owner grows face, for a seed-bed. There. mayJhe. ...indolent nnd prosperous from the labors lumps on the surface of the soil, bnt the j of his industrious subjects. Here there seed should not be surrounded by them, otherwise the plants will be very uneven, and many grains will not start at all. If the soil is lumpy, as it is in mauy cases, ust> a roller immediately after the plow, or after the harrow has been used once. This is the only proper use of the roller on fall sown fields. To roll the ground after the grain is sown is a mistake; it gives to the surface a smooth and pleas­ ing appearance, but it is much more in­ clined to crust over; besides this, the protecting coat of snow is not held in winter as it would be if the surface was left rough. Besides having the soil in a proper mechanical condition, through the means mentioned above, it must be provided with a good supply of PLANT FOOD. -- The young plants is no long winter with dearth of flowers, through which the patient workers must be nursed and fed, in order that they may live until the opening of the next field season. These bee-ranches are models of neat­ ness and domestic comfort; and the profession of bee-keeping is rapidly be­ coming popular among persons of little physical strength or small financial cap­ ital, or both, such as maiden iadios, broken-down ministers, bachelor students and those dilettante farmers who fancy that the royal road to bucolic happiness lies through the- flowery beds of a bee- pasture. Their expenses are as light as those of a hermit in his cave ; and what stores of honey are laid up are so much clear gain, as the bees board themselves Ml THE CLOIIM. T»T CABBIE V. KHAW. has just been lying, and the dainty Afghan, with one shabby shoe peeping I ££ l^ng e^v"s^"twouVa 7a^> from the rosy folds, and say, Isn t it | ««And what ab'„;it my new kid boots?" cunning?" In the act of turning up her nose at my imbecility, Mrs. Primrose stumbles, and barely saves herself from falling by clutcliing one of the balusters. She has stepped on baby's ball. "Oh, dear!" she exclaims, giving the innocent article a spiteful kick, "what an absurd place for a ball! I might have sprained my ankle, and been laid up for a month, and had a doctors bill groaned the horrified Primrose. One child was sent for mamma's slip- spers, another directed to clean tiie boots, and we went on toward the garden. But the troubles of the cliild-hater were not over. Intent upon criticising the blithe young mother, and her many in­ ventions, she took uo liecd to her ways, and presently stepped plump into a well that the boys had dug and filled with water that verv morning. The sudden should lie well fed, that is, have a plenty ! while they work, and work unceasingly on at"x>,iht of that iiWei°tage,';ysssrierioto'rvrr equilibrium, and she fell upon a rose bush, tearing her lace shawl and scratch­ ing her delicate hands. The boys hastened en masse to her assistance, but she waved them off, called for her damaged boots, buttoned them over her wet stockings, and walked majestically away. Her last words, borne back upon the breeze, informed us that she would never risk her life again in a house where there were " a raft of young ones." The children watched her exit in con- [ vulsions of laughter; and the boys im- mediately set about making clay images of the banished Primrose. wretch "Ball," Mrs. Primrose intended to say; but the word was knocked down her throat by the sitting-room door, swung open at that moment with greaf violence, by three-year-old Nell. "How do, Miss Primrose?" said the little one; " 'oo pity well?" "Mebbe I shall be, if you slam the door in my face a few times more," re­ sponded the withered " wose;" "where's your mother?" "She mating new dess for my doll on 'shine." "Did--you--ever?" said the lady, making her way toward the lounge, over a perilous path of marbles, spools, tin- rattles, the dissevered limbs of dolls, etc. "Will you please tell your mamma that we would like to see her a minute ?" Manners Two Hundred Years Ago. A curious little book, called "The Away ran Nell, screaming at the top j Rules of Civility," which was published 1. - M/\nro A Yi 11 1 n /w 11 /wn ^ iMI ^ 11A found its way to an obscure place in a j tteighboring State, where a distant rela- j - lave lived--"Aunt Dorcas," Madge and .tier brothers and sisters had always ] -called her. 1 "Aunt Dorcas" had a family of three j ^children, of whom the two eldest were I v'^girlB, and married. -The youngest was j ,:j» boy not quite of age and quite ro- | ananfcic in his feelings and actions. He j 'was a tall, slender youtn, smoothly i tliiiaven, with gray eyes and a smiling •v^jjmoutfa. On this evening of which I write, he ' t]iad no work to do, and he wandered ! ! ' 'listlessly about until he found himself in ! •^Hfche parlor. He threw himself lazily in •m, chair, which stood near a small table. "Vjcaning back, he thought he would go ) < t» sleep. j m I "Confound it," he muttered to him- ,«elf, '• It is so blamed lonesome ! I wish j Bj knew where mother is, or else some- i Jbody would come. Can't go to sleep, | jnor---hello ! what's this ? " and, with a j f* isuddenly-acquired energy, he reached i land picked up a photograph (none other 'ihan Madge's own) from the table. What grand, lovely eyes! How •cute that hair looks! That mouth looks aa though a fellow never could get tired of kissing it. Anyway, I may kiss the . . picture without giving offense, though ' ' I'm not so sure about the original Any way, here goes!" and he pressed the senseless card to his lips. "It seems to me," he said to himself, continuing his monologue, " it seems to me I have seen this person, or some one very mucli like her. Let me see--I do wish mother would come back; but I don't believe I'll get lonesome with this face to look at." And, as he looked, he felt to his finger-tips that his own future woabt be mixed up in some way with the woman whose counterfeit he held in his hand. " My darting," he breathed, a dreamy look on his handsome face, " some­ thing tells me that you are my darling, saying he had not been able to get half through one of them. In fact, Henry was too lazy aud too fond of company to read. His delight was to pass weeks hunting in the " piny woods" along with overseers and people of similar social position. At night, when they gathered about the camp tire, Henry was the soul of the company-- telling stories and cracking jokes until bed-time. Yet the lazy, half-educated lawyer seemed like one inspired when he stood before a jury or on the stump. "He appeared to me," wrote Mr. Jef­ ferson, "to speak as Homer wrote. I never heard," he continues, "anything that deserved to be called by the same name with what flowed from him. Where he got that torrent of language from is inconceivable. I have frequently shut my eyes while he spoke, and when he was done asked myself what he had said, without being able to recollec4 « He was no logician." word of it. But Henry's case is an exceptional . . . , n „ one. There is nothing like it in our ! in her arm^ and Nell was tugging . . . . v . . . . o f n m « c h t l ' r i ! S i n n h n f v r * n / l a i i w « » • , of her voice: "Miss Pimwose turn! Miss Pimwose turn!" which announcement was imme­ diately followed by a series of startling sounds," resembling the rolling of wooden pumpkins down a long flight of stairs. "If I had to live in this house a month I should die in a week," said Mrs. Prim­ rose, with a gasp of resignation. "Now what do you suppose that noise was?" "Here is a young gentleman who can tell you," I answered, as Master Fred entered the room with three children at his heels. "Tell what?" inquired Fred, with the importance of six years. "What the noise was," replied Mrs. Primrose, with an awful frown. "Notliin' much," said Fred, "with ag­ gravating 'sang froid;' "we was makin' thunder, that's all." "Making thunder! I'd make light­ ning, if I were your mother," ejaculated the lady in tones of the deepest disgust. "Wt. tried to once, but papa spanked us," answered the three in a deafening chorus. "Tried to make lightning?" I asked, growing interested. "Yes; we put a lamp behind a sheet, and then pulled the sheet away suddenly, yon know," I smiled behind my muff, and was about to inquire further into this manu­ facture and its consequences, when mamma entered the room. She had tlie history, and the times were on his side. To-day tlie man who wishes to attain eminence as an orator must have ideas and know how to put them in an at­ tractive form. To gain ideas and ac­ quire the art of putting them, he must study.-- Youth'H Comjxinion. An Incident. It is hard, we know, to obey the com­ mand to " overcome evil with good." But what has been done can be done, and the story of a woman's goodness overcoming a bad boy, who had severely wounded her, will illustrate it. She was an English woman, a member of a sisterhood devoted to nursing the sick. Tlie district in ^yhich "Sister Dora," as she was called, sought to do good responded to her efforts by petty annoyances and rough persecutions. The rude, reckless men exhibited their irreligious Protestantism by hat- and nothing shall prevent my finding I red of the Roman Catholics. The false 1 A? I out, and claiming you. I couldn't help smiling when Madge told me afterward of this romantic act­ ing on the part of Allen Beverly; but then, he was young, and, you know, "Charity eovereth a multitude of sins," and not only sins, but follies. When the boy's mother came in, she old him that the picture was that of the person whom he had always known as 'Cousin Madge,"although she was sev­ eral degrees farther removed in her con­ nection with him. "Oh, yes, mother, and I saw her when we were both children. I thought that face seemed familiar;" saying which he gave the picture a look that •did not escape his lynx-eyed mother. She was well pleased, though, for Madge was a prime favorite with Dorcas Beverly. As soon thereafter as a letter could travel, one from Allen himself was handed to Madge. " Dear Cousin Madge," it commenced, •"ill may be permitted to call you so, "Mother got your letter with the picture, and she bids me answer it for her. Tour picture is by far the pret­ tiest of any we have got Thanks! I would like to see you, and renew our old acquaintance. You have never come to this State. Why don't you come and make us a visit ? Or shall I go and make you a visit? I feel thai I must see you, for O, Madge ! your face has a merry, care-free look that makes it captivating; and then th£re is a grand sweetness in it that has en­ thralled me. Your face is continually liaunting me, but I will not write any more for fear of giving offense. If I should, God forgive me, as I know you trill. Please write to me. Yours ever, " AUIEN BEVERLY." I laoghed outright when Madge read flfcat sUv thing to me, but she looked •what and hurt. " O, Barbara !" she said reproachfully, report that the sisterhood belonged to I the Church of Rome--they were mem­ bers of tlie Church of England--roused I their ire. , I Late one evening, as Sister Dora was I walking through tne town, a boy called I out, " There goes one of those Sisters of Misery !" and threw a stone which cut open her forehead. In the course of a few days this boy was brought into the hospital. He had been severely injured iu a coal pit. " That's my man!" exclaimed Sister Dora, recognizing him. She was ap­ pointed his nurse, and bestowed upon him more than usual attention. One night she found him crying. "Sister," he said, •with many sobs, "I threw that stone at you." " Oh," she replied, with gentle voice, "did you think I did not know that? Why, I knew it tlie minute you came in at the door." "What!" exclaimed the astonished boy, " you knew me and have been nursing me like this ?" It was the first time he had ever had the slightest experience in receiving good for evil. The impression her con­ duct made must have been lasting in some way for good upon that boy's mind and heart.-- Youth's Companion. at her skirts. She begged our pardon for keeping us waiting, and then turned to the four tliunder-makers, and said something in a low tone. Their faces lengthened, and they turned pleading j eyes to mamma's face. But she said ; "no," peremptorily, and they went j quietly out of the room. j "Mrs. Fanning, I should think you i would die!" was Mrs. Primrose's first | ejaculation. | "Do I look like it?" asked the rosy ! little woman, making a dozen dimples with her merry smile. "No, and that's the wonder. I should be worn to a skeleton in no time if I had so many children." " Oh no! Not if you loved them!" said Mrs. Fanning, giving the baby a hug and a toss. "And loved them wisely," I added. " Maybe it is wise to let them tear the house down," said Mrs. Primrose, "make thunder on the front stairs, for instance." "No, it isn't," answered tlie little' mother, "and to prove to you that I don't allow such liberties, I will tell you that the thunderers have lost a ride in the country by their naughtiness. I al­ ways deprive them of some pleasure, when they go beyond their limits." "Beyond their limits!" sneered the Primrose; "they're always beyond their limits. If I had children I should do them up as Indian women do their pa­ pooses. I wouldn't let them stir hand or foot. If you give them an inch any time, they'll take an ell." "I doin' to bow bubbers," said Nell; | "I 'fraid Miss Pimwose do me up." ) "All light," answered mamma. "Don't I forget to put on your big apron." j " No-o-o-o," sang the happy little i creature, as she ran away. j The disappearance of Nell was the signal for baby to creep out of its moth- j er's arms, and start full speed for a dis- ! tant corner. He was soon back again, ! holding by the head the most unhappy | looking rag baby that was ever seen. It was torn and worn to the last degree. But Tommy sat down and began nursing and kissing, and petting it, and cooing over it, as if it were a doll cherub. "Ugh! How can you let your child kiss that nasty thing?" gasped Mrs. Primrose; " it turns my stomach to see him." "Why, that's his favorite plaything, in 1675, throws amusing light on the manners of our ancestors t"vo centuries ago. " Being in discourse with a man," we read on one page, "'tis no less than ridiculous to pull him by the buttons, to play with his band strings, bolt or to punch him now and then on the stomach." Again, "It argues neglect, and to undervalue a man, to sleep when he is discoursing or reading. There­ fore, good manners command it1 to be forbid ; besides, something may happen in the act that may offend, as snoring, sweating, gaping or dribbling." More explicit are the rules for behavior at ta­ ble. ' 'In eating observe to let your hands be clean. Feed not with -both your hands, nor keep your knife in your li^nd. Dip not your fingers in the sauce, or lick them wheco you liavp done. If you have occasion to sneeze or cough, take your hat, or put your napkin before your face. Drink not with your mouth full nor unwiped, nor so long till you are forced to breathe in the glass." There are rules also for the drawing- room. " If a person of quality be in the company of ladies, 'tis too juvenile and light to play with them, to toss or tum­ ble them, td kiss them by surprise, to force away their hoods, their fans, or their ruffs. It is unhandsome among ladies, or any other serious company, to throw off one's cloak, to pull off one's peruke, to cut one's nails, to tie one's garter, to change shoes if they pinch, to call for one's slippers to be at ease, to sing between llie teeth, or to drum with one's fingers." A Detective's Story. There is a story told of a lady and gen- [ tleman traveling together on an English railroad. They were strangers to each j other. Suddenly the gentlemau said: I " Madam, I will trouble you to look j ont of the window for a few minutes ; I I am going to make some changes in my J wearing apparel." ! "Certainly, sir," she replied with j great politeness, rising and turning her back uj>on him. In a short time he | said : j "Now, Madam, my change is coni- 1 pleted, and you may resume your seat." | When the lady turned she beheld her male companion transformed into a dasli- I ing lady with a heavy veil over her face. "Now, sir, or madam, whichever you are," said the lady, "I mu-t trouble you to look out of the window, for I also have some changes to make in my apparel." of nourishment in such a condition as to be readily taken up and digested. Such food is furnished by thoroughly decom­ posed barn-yard manure; and when it is not to be had in sufficient quantities, some good artificial fertilizer such as su- perpliospate may be used with profit. SEIIECTINA SEED WHEAT. --Sow the best seed to be found, even if it costs a little more than that taken from the ordinary f in the storehouse, bin. It is a gain to pay double the mar- j Walking out in ket price for grain that is clean, plump, j and has been grown for seed with special care. Much depends on tlie variety-- i the Clawson at the present time is taking a high rank for yield in many localities j throughout the wheat growing region. ! THE HESSIAN FLY is the most trouble- j some upon the early sown wheat--that 1 sown after the 15th of this month is not i generally damaged--but it makes smaller | growth before winter sets in, and so far : as that goes it is a disadvantage to sow- late, excepting on well prepared laud. A ! farmer of our acquaintance (in the State i of New York) for many years sowed his ! wheat the first week in October, and his ! average yield has been over forty bush- j els per acre. He was first led to prac- j tice late sowing to avoid the ravages of j the Hessian fly, but the practice proved j so satisfactory that it was continued after the fly had disappeared. His land was in high condition, and a top-dressing of fine manure was applied to give the young plants a good start. It may bo better to sow late if a thorough prepara­ tion of the soil is thereby secured. I WATER FURROWS.--If the land is not I well drained, when all else is done in the ! wheat field, make the necessary furrows I with the plow, for carrying off the sur- | face water during heavy rains. ! SEEDING TO GRASS.--Grass seed may j be sown a few weeks after the grain, j Thrifty growing timothy will frequently ! retard the growth of the grain if sown as j early as the wheat crop, and clover seed j is best sown in the spring after or with the last snow. I TURNIPS should be kept free from weeds and the soil loose and mellow. Proper thinning is important; a single root needs from nine to fifteen inches in the row to grow to its best. On rich lauds white turnips may still be sown and a good crop expected. BEETS AND MANGELS that were sown early, may be harvested this month: if left in the ground they become hollow and dry. When pulled put them in long heaps, with the tops or straw laid over tliem; to be afterwards covered with earth, to protect them for the winter, or taken to the root cellar. Care should lie taken that the roots do not heat at any time either in the pit or cellar. BUCKWHEAT.--This tender crop should be cut before the first frost injures it. The grain shells badly when the plants are dry, therefore cut it in the morning when the dew is on. The cut crop after standing a few days will be dry and ready j call in the preparation for the winter which neve# comes. When the hive is full the cakes of " comb are removed, the liquid is extract-" ed from the cells, and the empty cups are replaced, to be filled again and again. This economical process pre­ vents waste of labor and time in gather­ ing of wax for the budding of new bins the morning in the green brush-wood of these canyons, you hear a loud and continuous buzzing of wings, and, although there may not be a flower in sight, it is as ceaseless and strong as in a buckwheat patch or clover field at home. This humming of bees is nature's tenor voice, as the roaring of the water is her bass. There are 'Aires for homesickness in the bees' mon­ otone, even though the authors thereof be perfectly wild--as, indeed, many of them are. In siich a country you can­ not feel utterly lonesome and lost. An Indian "Talk." Ttlie details of Mr. Peace Commissioner ,J udd's interview with Sitting Bull and Rain-in-the-Face, at Poplar River Agen­ cy, are just, coming in. These hostile chiefs, with a large following, invaded the agency, and by threats and firing of guns scared Judd and Pollock, the Agent, badly. After feeding the hostiles well, however, they consented to "a talk." Said Commissioner Judd to the inter­ preter: " Tell Rain-in-the-Face to say to Sitting Bull that he must take his people right out of this and leave these peaceable Indians alone." Interpreter--"He wants to know who'll make him !" Mi'. Judd--"Tell him that I will. I have only to raise my hand and a hun­ dred thousand warriors will rush in with their glittering steel, and guns with a big mouth, and clean out the whole out­ fit !" Interpreter -- "Rain-in-the-Face says all the people the Great Father has sent here are liars, and that you look just like the rest of them. He says, also, that you have a bigger mouth than any of the guns you talk about. He remarks, further, that if you are not careful it | will take all the agricultural knowledge i contained in several issues of your valu- I able journal (meaning the American j Agriculturist) to grow a fresh crop of i the capillary vegetable on the summit ! of your cranium after his friend S. B. | interviews you on what he knows about | scalping." Mr. Judd (excitedly)--"Tell him he ' must go or take the consequences!" j Interpreter--" He says blank the eon- j sequences, he means to take the rest of i the vegetables ! He took all tlie turnips | last night, and he proposes to occupy ; the eorn, cabbage tuid potatoes before | he is an hour older !" Mr. Judd--"A?k him if he knows the power that lies behind me, within easy to tlirasli, which had best be done at once. If a machine is used, remove the concave, or the cylinder teeth will other- i ^--iu your mind."--Chicago Tribune. I wise break the kernels. The grain should 1 Interpreter--"He says you bel he does, and that he knows you have lots of be cleaned' at once and spread out as j'tliinly as possible, as it is very apt to j lieat, and become almost worthless, il j left in large heaps. I BEANS are injured by heavy rains; | when ready pull them and stack around J the poles driven in the ground; cover the : stacks with straw. In pulling, leave i them in rows for a time to cure, and if i rain threatens they can be gathered j quickly in stacks. | CORN.--Early corn will be ready to cut | this month. As soon as the grain is I glazed it is ready to be harvested, and | the stalks will be much more valuable I than if left to be killed by frosts. The Anecdotes of Snuff-Takers. •Mley rand once said that snuff-taking was indispen sable to diplomats and pol­ iticians. When suddenly pressed to answer some awkward question they could gain time for thought by indulg­ ing in A pinch of snuff. " Would you confute your opponent in argument," said the brilliant Channing, "learn to take snufi and turn your back !" "Where did you get that brilliant sentiment in your song ?" asked a gentlemen of Tom Moore, a little skeptical as to the poet's originality. "Why, I got it," replied Moore, priming his tipped nose with a pinch of snuff, " I got it. where I got all seed for nejfl year should be selected be- i the rest, to be sure, at Lundy Foot's fore the cutting has begun. The tops of shop," referring to the great tobacco- tlio selected stalks may be broken down nist of Dublin. Prof. Matthews as a mark and left standing when the oth- i tells, in an article on "A Pinch of ers are cut and shocked. Snutf," several good stories of clergy SHOCKING is an important matter, and should be done with care. If the stalks are not well set up and properly tied tlie , , shocks fall in all directions, and the fod- ,1 , tlie,gen „ ! is damaged and the husking made more difficult. Bands of rye straw, or even willow, may be used with, advant­ age. POTATOES.--Early ones should lie dug at once; rains will otherwise start them into growth and do much injury. The last brood of "bugs"should be destroyed, as it is these that furnish the early brood next season. It is a good plan to sort the potatoes as they are gathered, thus saving much labor in handling them af­ terwards. SHEEP.--After the roots have been re­ moved from the field the sheep should be turned in that they may pick up the small roots and the scattered , leaves. THE Dumas family has always been re­ markable for strength and address. One „ night at the play, Gen. Dumas, the i said mamma, calmly; " his papa says he grandfather of Dumas the younger, | doesn't care anything about a doll till it flung a man out of the stage box on to i has lost every vestige oi respectability, the stage. Dumas the elder was a man TT * ! of Herculean strength, and Dumas the younger excels in all games of strength and drill. He is a master juggler, and he can put a frame of knives round a human head leaning against a board, with the most consummate surety of hand. George Sand was a brilliant pu- Eil of Dumas the younger, and in her iter years she used to amuse herself for days in this perilous pastime. He argues from that that Tommy will make a reformer or missionary." "Fiddlesticks!" ejaculated Mrs. Prim­ rose; then, changing the subject sud­ denly, " How can you spend your preci­ ous time on such • fol-de-rols?' " "Oh, I keep this for company work. I have crocheted ever so many little sacks and pairs of socks when I have been entertaining callers. I love to do it dearly." man in lady's attire "immediately com­ plied. " Now, sirj jou may resume your seat." To his great surprise, on resuming his j seat, the gentleman in female attire ! found his lady companion transformed into a man. He laughed and said : j " It appears that we are both anxious I to escape recognition. What hove you I done ? I have robbed a bank ? " ! " And I," said the whilom ladv, as he i dexterously fettered his companion's ! wrists with a pair of handcuffs, "I am i Detective J----, of Scotland Yard, and j in female apparel have shadowed you j for two days--now," drawing a revolver, i "keqp still." J Whipped and Bri&cless. | They don't permit a drunken man to : marry in Odessa. On the contrary, they whip him and give his bride to another. ! An illustration of this occurred, when a couple appeared in church and request­ ed the priest to marry them. The priest, detecting an unsteadiness of gait in the bridegroom, refused, and called the young man a "boozing swine." Indignant at the untimely in­ ebriate, the father of the drunkard seized him by the collar, dragged him out of the cliHrcli, and belabored lum with a stout cudgel, in the hope of mak­ ing him sober enough to marry. The bride's father, however, took a more practical view of the situation, and, declaring the engagement off, said that any eligible candidate for his daughter's hand might wed her on the spot without incurring any expense. Two aspirants came forward, and after /inspection by the bride, and interroga­ tion as to their worldly condition, one was politely dismissed, and the other took the "boozing swine's" place, and was made a happy husband. men who were inveterate snuffers. Here is one : A clergyman who was a New England pastor, and an inveterate snufl'-taker, one Sunday morning began the service by announcing that a portion of the li9th Psalm would be read, beginning at the twenty-fifth verse. While the congregation were looking out the Psalm in their Bibles, he took a lusty pinch of snuff. As he began to read, a series of j nasal explosions forced the following rendering : I "My soul clea-e-e-e-che-che-e-e-clie- ! eleaveth unto the dust!" i The tittering of the congregation j showed that they had made an a^plica- i tion of the scripture lesson. His Reasoning Powers. A couple of old darkies met and be- Binau rnns ana tne j gan talking over matters and things. This will accustom them to the^hange |n,4, of food that must soon come. If early come, lambs are not desired the rams must be kept from the ewes, or otherwise be aproned or " bratted." It is an im- ]>ortant matter that the ewes that are to bear lambs should be well fed, and begin the winter in good condition. A little grain fed to the ewes now will do much to insure strong lambs. Cows that are giving milk should be fed liberally, and not allowed to fall off now, as they can not be brought up again when cold weather sets in. Some kinds of feed, as bran or meal, should be used to help out the failing pastures. Corn f<xldei is excellent to piece out with at this seasou, and a patch of it should be found on every farm. It is im})ortant that the cows have a plenty of good, fresh water, especially as the herbage does not now afford the abundant juices of the spring growth. Rare. How is ole Col. Jones comin* on, what used to own you before de war ? He is so old he must be gettin' to l)e childish and losin' his reasoning powers " " Don't know nnffin' about him--haint seed him since befooh last Chrismas." "Why, what's de matter?" " Ain't got no use for such ole gem- mans. Last time I was dar I fotched him a big redfish-1 had cotched. I tole him ef he would gimme a table-knife I would scrape nil' clean de fish. What do you s'pose he said ?" "Asked yer to come in and {jet a dram, and chat awhile about ole times on de ole plantation." " No, sail; he tole me ef I couldn't borry a table-knife from some of de na- bors dat he would radder clean de fish himself. I s'pose he was afeard I'd be keerless in handin' de knife back when I got done wid it." The other darky rubbed his chin and remarked In • downward arch of tl>p clonds, -Jhl'. That w» : lacked on tbe bUlowy air, A silver-white star lay alone » Like an innocent little one Uiere. Like a glorious soul that is free, It lay in its beauty of white. Asleep in its eradlo of clonds That rote rocked on tbe bosom Like H snowy-robed infant tudeep, Or a soul of the glorious dead, In state lay the glimmering star, AU alone on itn cradle-like bod. Thin curtains of miaty-!ike bine, '•? Trimmed in white, iiaisy cloud lao% j Were drawn from the cradle aside, > * Where a zephyr just held them in f(Mt. Then slow, as the picture dissolved, A white arm reached out in the bins," And a beautiful fancy was mine, AM my eyes grew all dim with the dew. I thought, when our Father nha'1 find Us silent in death's chilly sleep, With strange, smiling eyes looking up To where the white clouds sway and weft He will look on o«r folly and sin-- Tired children, who will not awake-- And pardon with pitying tears, For our innocent babyhood's Fake. And with souls grown spotlecs as then,- With the laces of mists for our shrouda, He will take up His poor, weary babea, And rock us to sle^ji in the clouds. SCHF.LL CITY, Ma PITH AND POM. A - p , . . . . . . " I s e e b y d a t a r d a t d e o l e m a n ' s s t i l l A Brooklyn butcher has an intelligent t de llBe £f ,lis reftsonin' powers." German clerk who is trying to learn En- -- glish by looking up in the dictionary A LITTLE boy tamed an allegator, and every word he hears but does not under- the ugly reptile began to like tbe little stand. A lady customer, in her effort to fellow--not, however, until the little fel- explain what cut of meat she wanted, low was all gone. SOMETHING to lie about--A bed. He AD clerks--Barbers' assistants. A PARTIALLY deaf man has the "-Hey" fever. A GOOD whisky sling--Sling the bot­ tle out the window--after it is empty. WHAT did Mary say to her little lamb when she sent it out to grass in the evening? She said, "Ewe go to sup­ per. " A MUSICIAN wants to know how to strike a bee flat and at the same time avoid being stung by its demisemi- quaver. YOUNG man, don't try to forget your identity and become somebody else ; for the other chap is almost sure to be an inferior person. "Is THAT a deer park over there?" asked a gentleman of a laborer. " Yes," lie replied, "a very dear park. It al­ most ruined the owuer to fix it up !" A LAPY being asked how old she was replied: "I was married at 18; my husband was then 30. Now he is twice as old- -that makes me twice 18. I'm THE young physician returns from his vacation to find his patients lively aa crickets. He inwardly vows that he will stay at home and attend to business hereafter. AN old angler says that a fish does not suffer much from being hooked. Of com-se not. • It is the thought of how his weight will he lied about that causes anguish. LORD BROUGH AM once, when he was in a facetious mood, being asked to define a lawyer, said : "A lawyer is a learned gentleman, who rescues your estate from your enemies and keeps it him­ self." HE went into a drug store and said to the dentist: "You pulls out mitont pain ?" " Certainly." " What does dat cost?" "One dollar." " Py shiminy 1 Yon dinks dat don't hurt none, py gra­ cious !" A NOBTH CAROLINA man will work four hours to chop down a tree that a coon is in, but nothing would induce him to split up enough wood to cook the supper with. The latter proceeding isn't sport. THE Prince, of Wales' two sons are somewhat lively. While on a sea voy­ age recently, the younger was heard to exclaim : "Come, bub, tune up your fiddle and give us, 4 God save your old grandmother.'" "BUT. you know, pa," said the farm­ er's daughter, when lie spoke to her about the address of his neighbor's son, "you know, pa, that ma wants me to marry a man of culture." "So do I, my dear--so do I; and there's no better culture in tlft country than agriculture." "DIMPLES, you know, soon turn to wrinkles," said Swilton to a din*pled darling. " That can't possibly concern you, sir," she replied. " How to turn wrinkles into dimples would lie more in­ teresting to you, 1 should think. And, by the way, what a crop some persons could raise, couldn't they ?" " Is YOUR programme full, Miss Beetle- crusher?" asked a young man of a West­ ern damsel who had just struggled out of a refreshment room with disappoint­ ment in her eye and an "order of dances'* in her hand. "Programme full ?" said the daughter of the setting sun. " Waal, I guess not! I hain't had nothin' but a piece of cake and an ice-cream, an' they don't go far toward filling my pro­ gramme, I can tell you."--Boston Comr mercial. "DOCTOR," said a lisping, fashionable belle, who had graduated at half a dozen boarding schools, to a friend of ours, who had just been introduced to her at an evening party--"doctor, which do you prefer, Hholidity of intellect or brilliantliy ? Tlnun admire tholidity; but ath for me, as Sliakthpeare thayth in hith 'Bride of Abydoth,' 41 prefer tholidity and brillianthy combined"* The doctor sank into the nearest chair, exhausted, COURT scene : " What's gone of your husband, woman?" '^What's gone oi him, yer Honor ? Faith, and he's gone dead." " Ah! pray, what did he die of f* " Die of, your Honor ? He died of a Friday." " I don't mean the day of the week, but what complaint?" "Faith, an' it's himself that did not get time to complain." "Oh, ay--he died sud­ denly?" "Rather that way, yer Honor.'* "Did he fall in a fit?" No answer. "He fell down in a fit, perhaps ?" "Why, no ; not exactly in a fit, your Honor. He fell out of a window, or through a cellar door--I don't know what they call it." "Oh, ay--and broke his neck ?" " No, not quite that, yer Worship." "What then ?" "There was a bit of sthring, or cord, or that like, and it throttled poor Mike." "Quite likely. Call the next case." The Cost of a Boy. It will be a good* thing for all boys, and girls, too, to get some idea--in real figures--of what their parents do for them. The Rev. P. B. Fisk gives a lecture on the cost of a boy. He com­ putes that at the age of 15 a good boy s receiving the advantages of city life will cost, counting compound interest on thf amount invested, not less than $57000. At 21 he will not cost any more unleua he goes to college, when he will cost nearly twice as much. A bad boy oasts about $10,000 at 21, provided he does not go to college. If he does go, 1M costs as much more. Mr. Fisk thinks that girls are nearly as expensive as l»oys. The computation, however, comprises only the pecuniary cost of raising a boy. The value of tbe j mother's tears and the father's gray hairs are beyond the reach of figures to I express. The money side is by far thtt 1 lesser of the two.