,V . - J . ; X ; - r IT had just struck 7, and the restless impatience which indicates that dinner is being kept waiting had •ettled on the three members of the x Wiikins family assembled before the drawing room fire. Mrs. Wiikins looked continually from the work on her lap to the clock on the mantelpiece with an expression which would have been more amiable if it had been less con- txuHed". , Miss Wiikins affected to be reading a book, but the constant tap ping of her foot on the carpet showed that her thoughts were not following her eyes. Miss Gertie Wiikins had te&s constraint. She moved restlessly from the clock to the window, and back again from the window to the clock, .with discontent in her face and grumb ling in her voice. At last she broke out: : "If I were engaged. I'd teach him to be punctual. . Dick's always late." . t Her sister did iiot, answer. She was meditating the best manner of exe cuting judgment on the offender, and had just decided on a course of ex treme severity when a ring at the bell relieved the general tension. "There he is," said Gertie, 'Til give him a piece of my mind," and she darted out of the iw>m. Mrs. Wiikins and her elder daughter carefully settled their1 fea tures into an expression of cold dis pleasure, and waited the arrival ol' their Visitor. They could hear the sound of voices below at the street door; but there was no nodse as of the door closing, or of anyone entering the house. They had almost forgotten their displeasure in their curiosity, when Gertie's step was heard bounding up the stairs again. "A • telegram. I expect," said Miss Wiikins, wit hill-concealed disappoint- H ment. "Really, that would be most annoy ing now," her mother remarked. The next moment Gertie rushed into the room bearing, not a telegram, but a large and expensive bouquet of yel low chrysanthemums. "A boy brought these for 'the lady of the house,' " she announced; "and he can't say whom they're from." "What do you mean?" exclaimed both ladies in a breath, their interest di vided between Gertie and the remark ably handsome bouquet which she car- tied. • "Just what I say. The boy said he was ordered to leave the flowers at No. 19, for 'the lady of the house,' and he doesn't know who sent them. Aren't they nice:" , . "What a curious thing!" said Miss Wiikins. "What beautiful flowers!" said her mother. "They must have cost at least 10 shillings. Who can have sent them V" "Why, can't you guess?" Gertie in- , quired. "It's as plain as A B C. Who could have sent them but Dick? It's a peace offering for being late, of course." The idea instantly found favor. "Of course, it's Dick," said Miss Wii kins. "Of course it is, said Mrs. Wiikins. "What a very kind thought! But he should not have spent so much money. No doubt he had to go out of his way to get them, and that made him late. He could not get such flowers every where. But why send them anony mously? Why not bring them with him?" "Oh, I suppose he thought it would be fun to make us guass," said Miss Wiikins. ."You see. he sent the flowers en first, so that our curiosity about the giver would be at its height when he arrived." As if to confirm the theory, there was at that moment a ring at the bell, and Gertie, from the window, announced that the long-expected guest was at the door. & to the flowers, with a perfectly blank and bewildered expression. Miss Gertie then took UP the case for the prosecution. i "Oh. it's no use .trying to look stupid" (Johnston bowed); "we knew directly it was yon." ^ • It here occurred to Johnston that the speediest method of clearing up the mystery would be to atfect a glllltv knowledge of the facts. So he put on his airiest manner, and answered: "So you found me out directly, eh? There is no deceiving your sagacity, Gertie." "It didn't want much sagacity," said Gertie; "who else could it be?" "Who else; indeed?" said'Johnston. "It is useless for yon to try to 'do good by stealth,' smiled Mrs. Wiikins. "But you must allow me! to, 'blush to find it -fame."' (fetorted jjohhston. "What was it that betrayed me?" "Oh, don't imagine (bat the boy split," said the yonager Miss Wiikins. . "Gertie!" interrupted her mother, ad- m o n i s h i n g l y . : % - " • • • ; - , "What did the boy. say?" asked John ston, cunningly, for he was ^jeeplv in terested by this time. vV .3 ;;is ; MrS. Wiikins replied:,; "He asked the maidvwhether our house was,JJo. l!>; and then gave her the flowers xor 'the lady of the house.' Gertie--ah- -hap pened to be in the hall, .and asked him from whom they canie., But he said he Could not tell." ; • ,, • The situation was now clear." John ston realized with alarm that he was supposed to have been, the donor bf the handsome bouquet which he saw be fore him. That he actually was not responsible for the courteous attention with -which he was credited he felt In some way to be a^rtejifpach; and lie blushed with shamer. He had It on his lips to say, "My dear Mrs. Welkins, I did not send the flowers;" but his cour age failed him. It would be such a nasty fall from grace for him, and such a slight upon the ladies' discernment. No: he must break the truth gradually, and hedge a little longer. "I must say, I should appreciate the Joke better if you did not carry it quite so far/' said Miss Wiikins. N Mrs. Wiikins' tone was distinctly colder as she added, "Well, we will srty lio more. The .flowers were very wel- i eqiue. and it was exceedingly kind of you to send them, Richard." "It really looks as though you wished us to keep on thanking you J' continued Miss Wiikins. • , 1. , "Oh, it's just a man," said Gertie, from the6 altitude of seventeen sum mers; "spoils everything for the want of a little tact." These remarks brought Johnston to his bearings. It was evident that he must at once disabuse the mind of tho family, "Yes, but suppose 11 didn't send the flowers after all?" "Then what have you been laugning for. and blushing, and going on in that way?" asked Gertie unanswerably. "I really think we had better let the subject drop," said Mrs. Wiikins se verely. ""I shall begin'to wish you hadn't sent the flowers at all, If you persist in this silly mystery," said Miss Wiikins, with rising impatience. "But, my dear Gwen, be reasonable," pleaded Johnston, rather alarmed at the turn things were taking; "I never said that I---" "Really, Dick,. I don't want to argue this question any longer; Presumably you wished your flowers to give pleas ure; you are assured that they have done-so. and I wonder you can't see what a pit}*, it is to go on talking about, them; tiiuthey become anything but a source of pleasure. It Is so silly, and so very gratuitous." "But I assure you, my dear girl, that I did not send the flowers!" said John ston, with desperate earnestness. Gertie whistled, and Mrs. Wiikins looked grave. "Really, Dick, this is too much. If you will insist in continuing to amuse yourself in this way, it shall not be at my expense. When you think the joke is exhausted, you can let me know." With this Miss Wiikins swept out of the room; and Johnston feared by the look on her face that her anger would not be easily appeased. There was silence for some moments. "Why don't you own up?" said Ger tie, as she followed her saster out of the room. When she was left alone with him, Mrs. Wiikins appealed to Johnston again. "Why, I mean the flowers, of course." "Then allow me t& tell you that we have agreed] to let that subject drdp onee and. for all." "Oh, have_we!" replied Gertie. ("Un fortunately, there is someone at the door who won't let It drop. The boy Is here again." "What boy?" ° "The Wy who brought the flowers." "Well? • ' "He wants them back. There's been a mistake. He ought to have left them at No. 9 instead of No. 19." Conscious of the indignation kind ling In his sweetheart's eyes. Johnston, with the Inspiration of ijespaiit saw that there was only one course possi ble to save the situation. He burst into as plausible an affecta tion of hearty laughter as his nervous ness would permit. The ladles looked mystified, but unrelenting. "Be good enough to explain your self," said Miss Wiikins. "It's awfully funny, isn't it?" said her sister sarcastically. "It Is. It is," laughed Johnston. "Don't you see? It's part of the joke, telling the boy to come back for the flowers. Ha, lia, ha! It was to make" you believe that I didn't really send them.'.' And leaving no time for ques tioning, Johnston rushed downstairs, thrust a sovereign into the boy's hand, and slammed the door upon him. During the rest of the evening Miss Wiikins' mood was preoccupied, as one who ponders deeply. But Gertie had evidently been sternly forbidden, to re fer to the. subject of flowers, and they were not mentioned again. Iiow.'far. Miss Wiikins realized, the true state of the case, Johnston never knew,, but when he was ordering t)he bridal bou quet he was given particular instruc tions to leave his card with the florist.-- Casseli's Magazine. AGRICULTURAL NEWS THINGS PERTAINING TO FARM AND HOME. THE GAVE HERSELF AWAY. £*;••• SIIE REGARDED JOHNSTON WITH STERN ACCUSATION. - "It would show our appreciation of the gift," said Mrs. Wiikins, "if we put the flowers on the dining table. You arrange them, Gwenne, dear, will you? I will receive Richard. And, Gertie, please tell the cook that she may serve Bup.dinner." Immediately afterwards Richard Johnston entered Mrs. Wiikins' draw ing-room with much misgiving in his heart and a profusion of apologies on his lips. He knew that he was nearly twenty minutes late, and that unpunc- tuality was one of the most serious pf offenses in the eyes of his betrothed. What was his surprise to find the mother of his betrothed all smiles and graciousness. His excuses were ('quite unnecessary;" there had been no in- } convenience; "in fact, they had hardly noticed that he was late, at all." He was at once conducted into the draw ing-room, where his reception by Miss I ft Wiikins and Gertie was of the same , bewildering and unmerited cordiality. [ ; He had no time for private eonfer- | ence with Miss Wiikins, but she sat Si next to him at dinner. Whenever lie tried to apologize for being late she | smiled a^ him with a particularly kind- ?'.' ly eye, and assured him that "they ; quite understood." | Poor Johnston could not readily ad just himself to a reception so different > from that for which he had braced him- j ••• Why did they all smile at him so i knowingly? True, he had had his mus- f. tache curled before leaving the city; , but that could hardly have made so ;v, favorable an impression. - .[• As-ithe soup was being removed Mi.ss |H Wiikins pressed his hand under the table, and whispered tenderly: "Thank you, dear, so much. It was •nice of you. Mother was very pleased." Johnston, increasingly uneasy, whis pered back. in innocent inquiry: "What about?" "Oh, you silly boy! Did you suppose that I should not guess?" There was a flattering emphasis upon the "I," but for the life of him Johnston could not think what he-had done to deserve it. He had not time to turn the question over in his mind, for Mrs. Wiikins de manded his attention. ' - -to-what good purpose they have been put," she said, with an ap- 1 preclative smile for Johnston, and a meaning glance towards the flowers in | the center of the table. | Johnston looked at Mrs. Wiikins, and j f ' t h e n f o l l o w e d t h e d i r e c t i o n o f h e r g a z e biii * "I suppose you got them at Mason's?" inquired Gertie. "No. I did not," said Johnston. "Then it was Gregory's. That's the only other shop near. I thought it was. Things are ever so much cheaper at Gregory's. Mother thought you'd paid at least 10 shillings for them." "Wherever you got the flowers," hur riedly broke in Mrs. Wiikins. "they are very beautiful, atid;.!, .thank you again most cordially."^ , • "But you really must not thank me," protested Johnston.j "I haven't admit ted that I did send the dowel's. And. in .any case, ^' ;atteiiipt to thank the donor is to disregard his wfeli to bo anonynious.'?:"f .'v:^r(> '• "If you really wished not to be found out," said Mrs, Wilk'ms, "you would not have chosen my favorite flowers- yellow chrysanthemum*.". '"<• *. $)•' i" ' - i '"Besides, you looked so .conscious as you came in," said Ml^. Wiikins. ("That's the worst o£^|)$lug late," m tr} i Trtlvnsitmf 1 ^ though Johnston) "And I saw you recOgUtefgd the flow ers directly you entered thfe room." "Yes," added Gertie, ?'aaw 'the way you tried to look a^jif. you 'didn't un derstand Avas awfully weak. Anyone could see you were pretending. Why, you're still blushing, i declare. Look at him, Gwen." ' - Johnston could not help laughing, the evidence against him was so stron and this behavior of his was regarded as certain cOntirniation of his,.guilt. As well as he could for laughter, he tried to get out. "But this is all a mistake. His protestations were received with polite smiles of incredulity and the cita tion of further incontestable proofs of his guilt. After some minutes of hi? vain contest, Gertie broke in: "Of course, it was good fun to make ns guess, but now that we lfave guess ed, what's the use of pretending an.,' longer?" "Yes. Dick, is was very sweet of you, but you must have known that we could not be long in the dark," and Miss Wiikins pressed his hand under the table again. "And there is no reason why you should not take the thanks which you deserve." said Mrs. Wiikins, as though closing the subject. Johnston roared aloud. There he was, surrounded by people AviiO' insist ed, in spite of <hlh protestations, in thrusting gratitude upon him for some thing he had not; done. The situation was too convi®/ The ladtas, however, were rather annoyed. They, naturally, thought that the thanks which they had expressed so graciously were worthy of being received with more respect "Really, Richard," she said, with the sort of kind severity one would ex tend to a fractious lunatic, "I think it is a pity that the evening should be spoiled in this way; especially -when it promised to be so pleasant. Whatever your reasons for this obstinacy may be, is it worth while making us all un happy ?" Poor Johnston looked dismal and des perate enough. The joke had evidently lost its point for liim. "May I tell Gwendoline when I go up stairs that--the mood has passed?" continued Mrs. Wiikins. 'That the mood has passed." It was too much for poor Johnston's temper. "Yes," he said. "Say I'm awfully sorry that I didn't admit at once that I sent .the flowers." This was strictly true. That's right," said Mrs. Wiikins cheerfully, as she left the room. Johnston was sore and savage; but lie did not see why other people's un reasonableness should spoil his even ing. If they were so determined that lie had sent the flowers, he would con tradict. them no more. Presently Miss Gwendoline reappaer- ed. She had evidently determined to overlook Johnston's perversity; and he soon forgot his troubles. When that peculiar degree of tenderness had been reached which prompts lovers to ad dress each other in the third person, Miss Wiikins began playfully to im prove the occasion. "And he won't be a silly boy any more?" (interlude.) "And he won't tell any more naughty stories?" (An* other interlude. . "Say, T send the flowers,' " (Attempted interlude.) "No, not till you've said it." At this happy moment, and before Johnston could reply, Gertie burst into the room with the simple ejaculation: "Well!" She stood in the doorway regarding poor Johnston With stern accusation in her. eye; and he quailed before that glance, realizing Instinctively that ho was "in for it" again. "You really must not bounce abdut j the house like that, Gertie," said Miss ; Wiikins, with some irritation; "you make one think that something dread ful has happened. Whatever is the matter?" »* "Ask him." said Gertie, pointing to the miserable Johnston, who awaited his fate with the fortitude of despair. "It was a good joke, Wasn't it?" con tinued the mistress of the situation. "No wonder you laughed so much. What a pretty pair of foois we must have seemed, Gwen!" "What do you mean?" asked Miss | Wiikins, with rising impatience. How' a Soay-Clieeked Miss Revealed Her Name on a Railroad Train. She occupied the seat directly in front of me on a Central Railroad of New Jersey train from New York the other night, says a traveler. She was a plump girl, with auburn hair and hazel eyes. She was evidently^ girl employed in New York--perhaps a typewriter. Her name is Elizabeth. How do I know? Well, didn't I ask her. I never saw her before, no one called her by name and she had noth ing about her that served to tell me that her name Is Elizabeth. Yet her name is Elizabeth. I am not the seventh son of a sev enth son, neither do I possess the pow er of second sight. But I found out that the name of the plump, rosy- cheeked young miss in the seat In front of me is Elizabeth, before we had gone many miles out of Jersey City the "sand man" began to play havoc with Elizabeth. Her eyes became heavy and every few seconds her head would drop. Before we had crossed Newark Bay Elizabeth was sound asleep. The train sped on, and when the speed was slackened the brakeman opened . the door and shouted "E-lizabeth! E-liz- abeth! 'Iiz'beth!" With the first word the girl began to move. When the brakeman shouted "E-lizabeth!" the eyes were half opened, and when he finally called "'Liz'beth!" she nibbed her eyes and said: "Yes, papa, I'll get up." Through the cars ran the sound of suppressed laughter; but the girl had fallen asleep again, and when the train stopped and the brakeman again called out "Elizabeth! Eliza beth!" the plump girl jumped up and said: "All right, I'm coining." This was too much for the hair- brained dude across the aisle, and he began to "Ha! ha!" while the giggling maidens several seats in front began to giggle more furiously. Even the sedate-looking old gentleman seated near by could not suppress a smile. By this time the girl was wide awake, and that she was conscious of what she had done was evident by the fact that her naturally red cheeks became redder still, and I even imagined that I saw tears in her eyes. That is how I found out that her name is Elizabeth. Feedinc Pisrs Recniarly, MUch depends in feeding pigs on giv ing their food at regular intervals. TUen' the pig will very soon become used to this, and will H£t expect his food until the next regular feeding time comes. The old saying that a squealing pig loses a pound of fat every time it squeals has this much of truth Ln It, that the irregular times for feed ing which occasions most of the squeal ing Is the surest way to destroy diges tion. This in pigs is not so strong as is often supposed. The pig Is greedy by nature. Others must see to It that It does not eat more nor oftener than is good for it. Saved from a Rattlesnake's Fangs. Johnnie, the grandson of E. F. Car- rabee, living near Argyle, Fla., had a narrow escape the other day, and he owes his life to the quick wits of his brave sister, a pretty 15-year-old girl. Johnnie was down at the pond fishing, when he saw a rattlesnake. He at once killed it. A few seconds later he saw another one, which he killed likewise. He then saw a third coming out of its hole. This rather frightened the boy and he started for home. As he passed along the path another snake which lie had not noticed sprang at him, its fangs catching in his coat tails. The fright ened boy ran like a deer to the house, shouting at the top of his voice. His sister Ethel, who was on front of the house, saw him coming and also no ticed the big snake twisting, jerking and circling behind him. She was triming some bushes aud had in her hand a* sharp knife. As Johnnie passed her slie made a strike at the snake, but missed it "Run around the house, Johnnie," she called to the boy, "and come back here." The frightened boy had just wit enough to hear and obey. Around and around the house at full speed, the rapidity of his movements keeping the ,^nake out so that it could not get firmer hold and strike him. Ethel sta tioned herself near the corner of the house and as the boy came around she made a careful calculation and brought the knife down, cutting the snake In two just back of the head. The fright ened boy ran a few steps further and fell down in a dead faint. The snake was a monster, being nearly five feet lon^, and had it been able to strike the boy the poison would have killed him instantly. Ethel did not seem disturb ed over her exciting adventure and she received a great many compliments for lier quick wit/and bravery. Tlie Reason Why. English Tourist--Don't any of you Scotchmen wear trousers? What do you do for pockets in those kilts? McGab--Hoot! For why should we lia'e pockets whin there's naethlng but hands tae put in tlieim?'"--Cleveland Leader. A Season,, Trajjedy. , Oh, Che red bird sat on the picket fMce And sang in his merry glee; Along came the boy with a rubber flip' And shut off his breathing. SeeV ( --Atlanta Constitution. Treatment of Horses Afflicted with Heaves--Pigs Should Be Fed ResrU" larly--Advantage of Straight Sows for Cultivated Crops--Notes. Heaves in Horses.' Heaves is not so common a disease among horses as it was in former years. It may be described as a chronic dis ease of the breathing organs," without inflammation, characterized by a pe culiar breathing, the breath being drawn in with ease, but breathed out with difficulty, and by two distinct ef forts. The immediate cause is the rup ture or debility of the small cells in the lungs, so the animal cauont expel the air he has drawn ln without an extra and double effort. It is obvious, there fore, that the"symptoms are readily de tected. Authorities say that when the disease Is established it is incurable, though it can' be alleviated materially. If the disease is not too intense some relief may be obtained by giving one-lialf to one grain of arsenic 'in form of; Fow ler's solution dally for several weeks. One authority recommends the follow ing prescription: "Thirty grains each of calomel, digitalis, opium and cam phor; make into a ball and give once or twice a day." After the first week the calomel should be omitted. But more valuable than any medicine is the food and treatment of the animal. The diet should be of the best quality and small quantity. Coarse foods should be avoided. Mouldy or dusty hay or fod der is especially injurious. Let him run on a clean, short pasture and the feed given be in a concentrated form, slight ly dampened to allay any dust. Keep bowels loose. , Straisrht Rows for Hoed Crops. So much of the work of cultivation is now done with horse power that it is more than ever important that all rows of hoed crops shall be as nearly on a straight line as possible. Unless this is done It is impossible to guide the cultivator so as to avoid destroying more or less plants, beside leaving seeds that cannot be thereafter uproot ed except with great difficulty. When a weed Is not killed by cultivation it is made all the more thrifty, for the prun ing of the roots which cultivation gives makes new roots put forth just as it does for the crop. It is for this reason that after harrowing both ways over corn ground before the grain is up, the cultivator should be set to work be tween the rows just so soon as the rows can be seen. This will destroy any weeds that the harrowings may have missed. night and eat the plants just at the sur face. Wheat bran through which Paris green has been mixed and scattered around the stems of the plants will make short work of these pests. The grubs are veryj^ond of the bran, and in eatlhg it Ayill get enough poison to kill them. This method of getting rid. of grubs will not be practicable if fowls are allowed to con^e. near the patch, as they are also very fond of the titan.-- AgriculturalExchange. .Alkali in Western Lands. In an instructive paper recently read before a California farmers' institute by Prof. E. W. Hilgard, this subject was broadly considered, and It "was shown that alkali is the result of disin tegration of rocks and found only where rainfall Is too little to carry it off in solution. The more common salts are Glauber's salts, common salt and sal soda. The last named occasions the principal injury by girdling plants at the surface. In connection with these salts are found others which are among the most valuable elements of fertility, mainly salts of potash and lime, and found in greater proportions In arid than in humid lands. These salts frequently appear on the surface only after irrigation. In such cases it •will be found that they existed below the surface and were carried In solu tion by water used in irrigation and left on the surface by evaporation. A remedy is deep cultivation with thor ough pulverization of the, surface In orchard cultivation, to reduce evapora tion to a minimum; or shading the ground with such crops as alfalfa. The more important discoveries are that the Australian salt bush will thrive on strong alkali lands and that they have also produced large yields and a fine quality of sugar beets. THE TALKING STARLING. Raising Ducks, In raising ducks set the eggs under liens; when hatched remove to a box lined with pa pip; and kept in a warm place with all the sbnshine possible. When two days old put in a l>oard pen during day time. Feed bread soaked in water and pressed dry. Do not give them water to swim in until three weks old. Dust with Persian insect powder once a week; when four weeks old feed on corn bread soaked in sweet milk; young onion tops cut fine and mixed with their feed are healthful. .After four weeks old they wall thrive on almost any diet and will grow with less waiter to swim in than is generally supposed. Always keep water for drinking as pure and clean as possible, changing often and putting gravel in the dish where water is kept. Kicking Cows. A Western agricultural writer says that there are just as good milkers among cows do not kick as there are among those that do. This, we think. Is hardly the fact. It is the ten derness in the udder, caused by the presence of a large amount of milk, that niiakes careless handling of the teats very painful. The result is that the cow becomes a kicker, and soon this grows into a habit not easily brok en. It Is usually the fault of the man who breaks the heifer to being milked who is responsible for her character as a milker.v If tlie'flrst operations on the teats are gentle, drawing milk slowly until the bag is somewhat eased, milk ing is a soothing and pleasure-giving process for the cow. For the first few times the heifer is milked she should have some appetizing feed set before her, which she can eat while the milk Is being drawn. This should always be given when there is danger that the cow will hold up her milk. The cow is a one idea animal. When she is eating heartily she cannot easily think of any thing else.--American Cultivator. Fruit by Roadsides. Probably the best use that, can be made of roadsides is to plant fruit trees beside them, especially of those that are somewhat hard to gather in quan tity. We have in mind a farmer who, many years ago, planted a long row of cherry trees on the roadside, and far enough from the fence so that the trees did not injure the crops inside the fields. These trees never failed to furnish a payingcrop.andsomeyears the cherries were sold on the tree for four to five dollars per tree, and still paid a good profit to the man who bought the fruit. Very few cherries were taken by pass- ersby. though the trees were beside a Gypsum on Potatoes The broad leaves of the potato are what the crop very largely depends upon for maturing the tuber. It is im portant that they be kept green as long as possible. The fact that gypsum or land plaster attracts moisture makes It an especially good application for the potato crop. The first use of paris green to destrop the potato larva ought to be made with gypsum. By . attract ing moisture from the air and thus keeping the leaves moist more of the potato beetles' eggis wrill be de stroyed before they hatch. Sowine Oats by Hand. There are many farmers who find it an advantage to sow other grains with a drill, so as to apply fertilizers with the seed, who yet think the oat crop comes surer so win on a coarsely har rowed surface and dragged in. The reason probably is that thus the grain is apt not to be covered so deeply as it is by the <M11. The better fitting the seed bed lias, the deeper the wheels sink, carrying the drill tubes and the seed grain to greater depth than is good for the grain crop.--American Cul tivator. Poultry Pickings. Don't have the flocks of hens too large. If you have more than seventy- five or eighty, they ought to be sep arated into smaller flocks. An egg contains from 25 to 27 per cent, solid matter, nearly 14 per cent, albumen. That means that laying liens need food rich in albuminous matter- meat, oatmeal, milk, bran, etc. While poultry will not thriye on neg lect, it is well to remember 'that over feeding and lack of exercise are also fruitful sources of loss in the poultry yard. If we would keep up the vigor and fecundity of our flocks we must infuse new blood into them. If service or profit or vigorous growth is desired, there must be a frequent change of cockerels in the flocks. Weed out the flocks, disposing of really old stock and the undesirable youug. A few good hens, well cared for, will raise more chickens this sum mer than If a great flock 'is crowded together in unhealthy coops. A Boston commission merchant says that if fanners would market all the chickens and eggs they can spare each week, they would be surprised at the regular income that they were receiv ing, and they would find more profit in poultry. A writer says that crop bound is nothing more than indigestion, and that charcoal fed fowls rarely ever have this trouble. Then prevent It by well-traveled road. Most people while going along a highway are too busy to every now and then charring several stop, and the tramps wno were not too busy were generally too la.zy. Probably if peaches or pears had been thus ex posed the result would have been differ ent. Even then a few roadside trees for the public would be apt to lessen depredations on the neighboring or chards, which near cities or latos'vil- lages are the causes of muenfoss to fruit growers.--Exchange. Muskmclons by the Acre. Cheap as muskmelons are at times, they pay better than do most staple farm crops for those who are willing to give them the care which all garden crops require. To get the best prices plant as early as the land is warmed at the surface. Frequent cultivation, leaving the land as light as possible, will do much to make It warm. So will planting on a newly turned two-year- old clover sod. The very earliest mel ons are planted In a compact space, with a box 10x12 over the hill to keep off winds through the daytime and to be covered at night. Ten or more seeds are placed in each hill, which are later reduced to two plants by the time the vines begin to run. One of the worst enemies of all melon plants Is the white grub, the larva of the May or June bug. It will travel on the surface soli at ears of corn and allowing the hens to pick it off. Farm Notes. Lean the tree at planting towards the direction of prevailing winds. Bees need special care in early spring if profitable returns are iBeeured. Syrup made of granulated sugar is the best and cheapest feed that, can be given to bees. A nearly eight-fold Increase in the exports of oats is noted the past nine months compared with a year ago, the figures being respectively 26,000,000 and 3,500,000 bushels. A cross between the Brown Leghorn and Buff Cochin is an excellent egg producer and an Ideal table fowl. Eggs will be had the year round and the hens make excellent mothers. s Just befSfe fruit blossoms open is the time to spray thoroughly to destroy bud moth, cigar and pistol case bear ers. These three insects do their most destructive work before blossoms open. To make grafting wax, melt together and pour into a pail of cold water resin four parts by weight, beeswax two parts and tallow one part. Then grease the hands and pull the wax until it is nearly white. -i Amusing Antics and Speech of Clever Little Bird. The talking starling, says a writer lo the. London Spectator, Is a clever niiif amusing bifrd, and is easily reared nmfl' taught- We secured a nestling eighth een months 'ago, before any feathern had begun to grow, and brought him! up b^r hand. He naturally grew up perfectly tame and so much attache^ to us that when, by accident, he flewi away after being with us only a fewj weeks, and spent a whole night out to London, he returned to his home the next morning and hopped into his cage with evident satisfaction. This he did a second time, but on that occasion re* turned with less dignity, as we saw! him overbalance when sitting on a chimney at the top of the high man sions In Victoria street in which we live, and he fell down to the bottom of the house, reappearing in a gentle man's office the next morning the verl- est little sweep, but quite unabashed. After he had changed ^iLs lmmatusai plumage for the brighter adult pin. mage, in his first .autumn he began to talk, repeating his own-name with vari ations--" 'Bobbie,' 'Bodkin,' or 'Bobbd- kln' "--.then picking Up the terms oS. endearment and admiration which! were applied to him, but without any effort on otur part tc teach him, tiU at last he cried all day long, "Dear llt-1 tie 'Bobbie,' pretty little 'Bobkln,' poor old 'Bobbie,' " In the most bewitjcbinjj way. After a while he learned nothing! fresh till he moulted last autumn, since when he has added considerably to hla vocabulary. During that process his head was bare, and we used. to say to him in derision: "You old crow," which! be readily picked up, but altered It tai "Dear old crow," and called as clear!* as a human being, "Pretty 'Bobby,' I love you, such a sweet little 'Bobbie/ kissie poor B^bkin' " transposing the words frequently,"but curiously enough putting them together so as to make sense. As I write he is chattering this beside me and barking like a dog be tween whiles. He comes out of hia cage when he likes, and when we have the patience to endure his prying andi inqulsit^e ways. He sits on one's shouldeiV-creeps down one's arm till he at last perches on the hand and/ pecks at pen or needle, as the case mayj be, rendering work or writing lmpossi-! ble. He has apparently ceased again! to learn fresh words, and seems more! occupied with his spring- plumage, though he still chatters all day long,' and Ave shall look with Interest after his next moult for further additions to his conversational powers. The Knowing Gamecock. We all -remember the story of th«; Athenian artist who painted cherries* so naturally that even the birds were deceived and came to peck at them, A! modern incident illustrates in a some-j what similar manuer the power of pic-i torlal art to deceive, acd at the samel time seems to show a good deal of rea-< soning Intelligence in at least one mem -j ber of the feathered tribe. Mr. Scottj Leighton, the Boston1 artist, tells th© story of a pet gamecock which he kept in his studio. Having at one time to paint the portrait of a large-sized game-cock for a patron, the pet suffer- ed a great deal from the domineering! spirit of the larger bird, and got so1 that he never could see him without! flying into a rage. After the picture! was completed and the feathered modr el had been removed, the canvas re mained in the studio, standing on tho floor. One day the little gamecock was pick ing has way about the studio, when he suddenly caught sight of the counter- felt presentment of his former- enemy: With a scream of rage he gave one leap, and, flying at the picture, struck his spurs Into it again and again. The next time that he was given an oppor tunity, he repeated the attack, and It became the almost daily amusenn.mc of the artist and his friends to witness these impromptu cock-fights between a live bird and a dummy. At last one day the little fellow, rest* ing a moment after an unusually spir ited attack, happened to cock his head on one side so as to get a look behind the picture. For *n instant he was dumfounded. He looked In front sr.d saw his old enemy, as large as life; an other glance behind, and he was more than ever puzzled. He then deliberate ly walked behind and around the pic, ture several times, carefully surveying it, and with a ̂ spiteful flirt, and with an air of disgust that would have done credit to a human being, marched away and hid himself. Never after that could he be persuad- ed to attack the picture, or, indeed, to pay the slightest attention to it. He had penetrated the sham, and would have no more of it. How Nature Builds Rockeries. The fact is, the rockery, to be a suc cess, must be an evolution instead of a creation. Attempt to construct one after any set plan and you are sure to fall with It. The most satisfactory one I ever saw was one that made Itself; so to speak. The stones of which III was composed were hauled In winter and dumped down carelessly in a great heap. In spring the owner looked thenii over and came to the conclusion that It would be Impossible for him to ar-j range them In a more picturesque man-! ner, and he had the good sense not to; attempt it. He worked earth ln be tween them and planted wild vlnea and ferns there, and his rockery was a success. If possible, a rockery sthouldj be located ln a seclmhnl portion of the grounds. Rockeries as nature makes; them are generally in secluded nooks; where all kinds of wild things feel ab home, and we should try to carry ouij as completely as possible the Idea oi| the wlldness w*hicli prevails ln nature's haunts--to domesticate wlldness, so to speak. This cannot be done satisfac torily where the grounds are close to the street. If the grounds are too small to allow you to give the rockery a place at some distance from the house, and you feel that you must: have one, plant trees or shrubs so as to glv<T it an air of partial seclusion ajtf least.--Ladies' Home Journal. As Good as His Word. Mr. Howland--I tell you, Maria, yori are worrying over nothing, i can stop smoking any time I want to. Mrs. Howland--Well, then, stop now* Mr. Howland--I don't want to now.-- Cleveland Leader. When women have nothing else toi do they find something to, cry about j