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nthmt's jaw this growth ds the tooth gaz :13 at lom'mt, sun- hjrr ( [P \V “Mari In! 0 p! 33.1 11d the up T TOW r met,- 3 root :2. and . The 'm'. In \V 011‘s s: udy' 31'8 and the grass be not deficient in quan- tity or below the average in (111311113!- Bmt with the fall of the leaf all these advantageous circumstances are chang- ed, and, in too many instances, a sum- mer of brightness and happiness is suc- ceeded by a winter of sadness and sor- row, The thriving foal which frolicked with the dam during the first summer is now weaned and requires a variety of suitable foods and a considerable amount of attenetinn and watchfulness. It is not the great quantity of food that a weaned foal requires, but man- agement is highly necessary if the foal is to pay for raising ; and too well know- ing 1 hat such attention is not univerâ€" sally given, to the great loss of the less painstaking breeders, is sufficient ground for venturing to mention the subject. If a foal be well done dur- ing its first winter, the expense is very little indeed until he becomes a four- year-old; but, if the foal be neglected and consequently half-starved during the first and most important winter, he will be more expensive to keep in succeed- ing winters, and will never grow to so good a horse; or, even if in some cases he be eventually as good, the time and expense will have been far greater,and will have absorb-ed all the profit of breeding. The course of events is auite plain and easy to follow. Semi~starva- tion or neglect of any young animal will. seriously weaken the digestive or- gans, and then the food cannot be as- similated; hence a foal feed niggardly during the first winter will require much nursing and care, with consequent expense, during the second and suc- ceeding winters; but a foal liberally and even lavishly _fe_ed during the first and most trying winter will live at half- price on the costless refuse of the farm during the three succeeding winters which bring him to four-year-old ma- turity. A foal requires bran, oats, Lbay roots and water, with dry clean straw for bedding, and he wants one or more companion foals, or he will be dull and miserable. A grass run during three hours in the brightest part of a short winter day will do no harm, but splen- did young hbrses can be produced with- out it. The earlier in the autumn that this liberal treatment is commenced, the less will be the foal’s winter requireâ€" men-ts, and the less the total expense in raising the colt to four years old, and the more valuable will be the full- rown colt ;. therefore the great pecun- ary advantage to the breeders who pur- sues the policy I herein advocate. I speak from personal experience, having bred many horses, and having put as many as twentyâ€"five mares to the stud in one-season. Under-feed or neglect the foal and you ruin both horse and pocket. Be liberal to the foal, and when he is a yearling and a two-year- old be u 111 be strong enough to look after himself, and live cheaply and “ell amongst the rough-cattle of the farm. -â€"-Cor. London Live Stock Journal. A warm house for laying stock is an absolute necessity. \Ve do not mean one artificially heated, although some breeders of-the large comb varieties are obliged to use artificial heat to pro- tect the combs from freezing. There are a. great variety of houses used by the best breeders and hardly any two are alike. Yet they are all constructed with the same idea, to with- stand cold winter weather. It is a somewhat difficult matter to construct a wooden building so that. it can be kept frost proof. Frame dwellings, be it re- membered, are kept warm by artificial heat and would not be habitable without it. A hen house should be constructed that water will not freeze in it durâ€" ing the coldest weather. If such atem- perature can be maintained, there is no doubt. that plenty of eggs all winter will be the result. A warm house is more important than feed, in fact, all the feed in the world will not induce hens to lay if the house is cold. ‘ The first thing to consider is location. Select a site which is well protected, especially on the north and west sides. If fortunate enough to find a side hill, then the conditions are most favorable; otherwise barns or buildings can be uti- lized for protection. A grove of trees will often answer as a strono wind- and further towards the south, houses should face generally south, with a slight. inclination to southeast. Next they should be built low, as low as possible. Some of the best are sunk two or three feet in the ground. {thus exposing as little surface above ground as possible: A high-built house is ralwsys cold and ‘glrafty. In the construction, the dead-air space is recognized as the most import- ant consideration. This can be obtain- ed by useing 2 by 4 scantling on all four sides. On the outside nail sheath- ing boards. then builders’ paper (the double quality is best) on these, and then novelty siding or clapboards, For the interior of the house lath and Ins- ter is the cheapest and best finish. his gives a dead-air space of four inches, which will be foundquite sufficient. The roof is more important than the sides. Many 'houses, well built other- wise, have proved themselves useless be- cause of badly constructed roofs. All roofsush‘ould be lagtheq and plastered, or oeiled over inside, thins maintaining the principle of dead air space. Shin- gles we consider cold and leaky; be- sides, the pitch necessary tO‘insure against leaks Compels one to build too high, and thus create an overhead draft. THE MANAGEBIEN T OF FOALS. THE F WARM HOUSES. “U101! IJJUGLLD PAUuLJ v- vco A house thus constructed will be warm and comfortable; it cannot b made any warmer unless heated. \Ve dows open on clear, sunny days are the best ventilators and about the only klnd that will not injure the stool; confined. A great many farmers would like to have ice to use in the summer if it were not so much? of a job to put it 1113- When ice is ready to harvest the days are short and cold and the roads generally had; besides, the work is dis- agreeable as well as hard and danger- 0113. Now if you ‘have plenty of good we'll water handy, pump a tankful of it and when it begins to freeze take a. pailfui of it and wet the sides and bottom of your ice :house. If the day is cold and the water at the freezing point, a. coating of ice will be formed and by repeating the process your .ice- house will soon become a. water-tight tank into which you can pour a barrel or two of water at night when quitting work and find it solid ice in the morn- mg. The way to hmld on fast is to put on only as much; water as will freeze sognâ€"a. pailfnl or bwq at _a. time. If you have never tried this plan you will be surprised to see how much. Ice one man can store in a day. It Will be much' more than he could, cut and haul under the most favorable condi- tions. Besides he will have the satisfac- tion of knowing that the ice is as pure as the water he is using; while it: he got his ice out of some pond or river it would be full of impurities. If you have no ice house take a hay knife and cut out a room on the north side of a straw stack, mix water and snow, forming a 811.1811; with which plas- ter the sides and bottom of this room. then wet sides and bottom with ice waâ€" ter and fill as above. If this is well covered with old hay or chaff it will keep nearly all summer. Something About the. Latest Fad of the Parisians. The first horseless cab has been turn- ed loose in Paris, and if it leaves some- thing to be. desired in the way of beauty it is none the less interesting says La Nature; the Paris scientific paper, in that it marks the beginning of a new epoch in street locomotion of which it is impossible to forsee the end. So far from alarming the old-fash- ioned cab drivers, the new horseless cab built by a former cab driver with the financial assistance of a gentleman in Paris, and the work on it was done by workmen of the carriage-makers’ org- anization. The new automobile is a petrmeurn machine and has a five horse-po‘Wer pulling strength. A great advantage of the horseless over the old-fashioned cab is that they will take up less room, and to that extent relieve the conges- tion of street traffic. The new Paris vehicle is only about. ten feet, while a cab and horse. occupy in the neighbor- hood of fifteen feet. One of the minor objections that has been raised to the motor carriage, and it has been especially brought forward in the case of this first Parisian horse- less cab, is that it is so essentially ugly and awkward-looking. The. radical cause. of this lack of any graceful sug- gestion in any of the automatic veh- icles that up to the present time have been brought out seems to lie in a misconception as to one of the. exigen- cies of construction. Builders have, without an exception, apparently set out with the. fixed idea that a horseless carriage must be literally a horseless carriageâ€"that it must. be in outward effect a carriage precisely up to the pre- conceived conventional idea of what a carriage. should look like, and that only the horse should be lacking. It was reasoning precisely . analogous to this which resulted in the absurd rail- road passenger cars which are so slow- ly and with such obstinate reluctance giving way to the more rational and logical idea concerning railroad vehicle construction, which from the first have iprevailed in this country. The idea seemed to be that stage coaches hav- ing been the style of vehicle heretofore used to travel in, every passenger car- rying device that went on wheels must be some ° soar or A STAGE COACH. So the horrible little stage coach com- partment cars were bullt and even painted on the outside to resemble stage coaches. .The fact that the conditions were entirely changed made no differ- ence. The thing to travel in, whether it went on rails or on the highway, was and. must ever be astaage coach. If this cab is a popular success the .tourist in Paris will see a. strange Spec- tacle when the historic Bois du Boul- agnp, is t’hmnged with gilent, horseless carriages and cabs contaming the haute gmonde of the French capital. It is the. same way with the horse- less carriage. It would seem easily pos- sible. to make a graceful vehicle out of one. that furnished its own motive pow- er, and the obvious first inference would be. that such 9 vehicle should be. entire- ly different In many details of shape from one that was drawn by horses. But the. thing is too new “yet t6 stup- pose. that the old rat will be very soon abandoned. EASY \VAY TO STORE ICE. HORSELESS CABS. ffm M Pal 111‘s 0- “U W Lu uvu vvvvvv . be to have her spice box on a. small she‘x'f {near the stove or hung on a nail within easy reach. Everyone admires an immaculate floor, yet none but the one who scrubbed it realizes What it costâ€"the wearixness, the hard work and the aching knees. A couple of gallons of dark paint, or some stain, or enough oil cloth to cover the floor would in) the long run be far the cheepest.‘ . luv “lb ‘ “u Has anyone ever given a thought to how much could be accomplished in an hour before breakfast? \Vhile the breakfast is cooking one will be able to prepare the vegetables for dinner mm caf Hm narl'nr amd sitting: room In and set the parlor and sitting room in order; that is if they do not require extra sweeping, Of course. the meals for the day had been planned the day before and as much as could be preâ€" pared for breakfast had been done the prevmus evening. The children should have «been. taught to open their bed- room windows and throw back the bed clothes before leaving their rooms in order that during breakfast the beds may air, and may be made up directly after the dishes are washed. Then one has the entire morning to devote un- disturbed to sewing or other work and may look forward to an hour’s nap afâ€" ter Punch. It is true that where there VV.‘ 5““qu are small children to dress this plan may snot work so smoothly; but chil- dren should be taught to help, and the older ones would soon learn to dress the small brothers amd sisters if the mother would take the time. to explain to them. "8‘15-‘7 In housework one must arrange to do certain duties on appomted days, amd do it then if possible» The heavy work, like washing and ironing,if done the first of the week, does not create more time, but it seems that much more can be accomplished in the re- mainder of the week when uninterrupt- ed. Another saving of time, if one does not "keep a. hot fire oonstgntlry, is to prepare in the morning, while there is IU‘ILm :I_~_-_L- r;\’rw‘v In.“ a hot fire, whatever of fruits, desserts or vegetables which are to be served cold or which may be cooked then as well as later, instead of budding an extra fire or commencing preparations an hour earlier than necessary at meal- time. It takes some little planning and thinking on the part of the housekeep- er, but how much pleasamter it is to know that one will] have so much time to devote to Whatever ome ‘ pleases. UV “V'vvv â€"â€"vâ€" ‘â€" It is the systematic housekeeper who hastime to read, to play with her chil- dren and to do pretty fancy-work, not the one who sleeps till the last minute in the morning, gets breakfast in a rush and then sits down to read afas- cinatineg novel before the dishes are washed. Such a. woman is always grumblmg about the amount of work she has to do and making it unpleasant both for her husband aindch‘d-dxlen. she was not eternally “picking upand setting to rights”. that matter it if Marion left the sofa pillows. a little out of place, or if the table is strewn with the latest magazines where John left them? \Vhat matters it if. the big eaSy chair is puh'led up to the blaz- ing fireplace, where it looks so invit- ing. Surely primness is not artistic,and there is a vast difference between dis- order and such arrangement which is most comfortable; A pleasant home is made by the people in it and that with which they surround themselves. Pretty ornaments and books make the home attractive, even if they do make a lit- tle more work. But, best of all, is the smiling faces of its inmates, and espe- cially of the mother, and ‘ surely. she '-lv‘â€"-â€"D -~"- â€"â€" ___,._ There Err-yet vaanovther kind ofohouse- keeper who would have more tlme 1f 1-- _____ _-A. -LAHA‘H” Un§n17§h~n nn anti filin'best airrauges hér work and' time mu be able to make “90 place 'on earth. like home” to her family. RECIPES. Chillblains.â€"Soa,k the hands and feet twice or thrice a. week in hot water which: has common saint dissolved in it in the proportion of half a. pin-1: mea- sure of said: .to a gallon and a. half of water. This is not only acure, but a preventive. Apply 't'his ointment spread on a soft rag at night. Cut up THE HOME. :2 white turnips and mash them with 31axge spoonfuls of good lard.1f possible, pound the two together thor- ough‘ly m a marble momar. To Sweeten Strong Butter.-â€" Melt. the butter and skim it; then. put in- to fit a piece of toast (free from any bum), In a few moments‘ the butter will lose its offensxve taste and smell, which» will have been absorbed by the Vinegar Piesâ€"Three cupfuls of wa- ter, 5 tablespoonfuls of vinegar, 1 cup~ ful of sugar, yolks of 5 eggs, 3 tables- poonfuls of flour. Put water, vinegar and sugar on the stew; let come ‘to a. boil. Moisten the flour with a, lit- tle water; keep yolks of eggs and flour together. Pour into the water on the stew; stim‘ until thick. F‘lavor with lemon. This is as good as a lemon pie. USES - OF AMMONIA. Grease spots may be taken out with weak ammonia in water, and if very carefully applied will remove spots from paintings and chromos. Lay soft white paper over and iron with a moderater hut. iron. "y rubbing nickel and silver amaz- ments with a woolen cloth, saturated with spirits of ammonia” they may be kept very bright with but little trouble. Door plates should be cleaned by rub- bing with a. cloth dipped in ammonia and water. To brighten carpets wipe them after sweeping with warm water, into which has been poured a. few drops of amâ€" mania. 01d brass may be made to look like new by pouring strong ammonia over it, then scrubbing with a brush; rinse in clean water, and be careful not to touch your hands with the ammonia. Yellow oil stains left by the sewing machine may be removed by rubbing the spot with a. cloth wet with ammonia before washing with soap. Spirits of ammotnia. will often remove severe headache, but shoule be carefully used. as the oonstamt use of salts, am- monie and other strong scents injures and mflames the nose. To clean windows put one or two tablespoon-ids of ammonia, into abuok- et of water. After washing thoroughly poldsih with 3111 odd newspaper, and your windows will be beautifully byig'h't. _ One teaspoonful of ammonia. in a cup- [ml of water will clean gold or silver jewelry. _ A few drops on the under side of a. diamond wilil clean it immediately, making it very_bri}iliamt‘. 11a 1 Flannel and blankets should be soak- ed in a pail of water, containing one tablespoonful of ammonia and a. little clean suds; rub as little as possible, and they will be white and clean, and will not shrink. v' w-â€"-- .. To wasliJâ€"vyour brushes and combs put ome tablespoonful of ammonia in ope quart of water, rinse, shake and dry 1n Equal' parts of ammonia. and turpen- tixne will take the paint out of clothing, even if it has become hard and dry. \Vet the spot as often. as necessary, and wash out im soap suds. A tablespoomtul of ammonia. in a gal- born of warm water will often restore colors in carpets, and will also remove Whitewash from carpets. PATHETIC SCENE IN THE BLOOM- INGDALE ASYLUM. WITH POUR BILL SBANLAN [low the Former Great Actor Looks and Livesâ€"The Comedian‘s Sad Condition is Plumbâ€"Does Not Know Any one, Not Even His Wife. The morning sun had peeped through the barred windows of a narrow, cell- like room in \Vard 7, of the Blooming- dale Asyulm for rthe Insane, near New York, illuminating the bare walls, and lighting up the features of a dying man. No one could have recognized in those expressionless lineaments the once bright face of the popular Irish comeâ€" dian, W'illiam J. Scanlan, and who once deligh’ted audiences all over the coun- try. ,The eyes were closed, the cheeks were puffed and of sallow blue, and the mouth, that in days gone used to break into fascinating smiles, had a drivel- ling aspect, heightened by the idiotic droop of the chin. Scanlan has been bedridden off and on, for nearly eighteen months, and is now fast approaching his end. His mind is a blank. One day in his life is but a repetition of another. They are all devoid of incident. The room he occupies is furnished with a single bed- stead, a strip of light-coloured carpet and a chbir. The great clock in the steeple of the asylum chapel chimes 6, Lt is the sig- nal. for a, general awakening in the ward. The attendant-s leave their rooms and busy themselves in cleaning the halls, assisting the imbecile patients to dress, shaking the mats and making the beds. Breakfast ‘next. This meal is always served in Bloomingdale at 7.30 o’clock. Those patients who are able to walk about the wards repair to the dining room and eat the meal there. The sick patients are served in their rooms. BEGINS WITH BREAKFAST. An attendant enters Scanlan’s room with a tray, and, taking a seat at the bedside, props the patient up with pil- lows and feeds him with a spoon. The actor’s breakfast usuallv consists of oatmeal porridge,nsoft-bolled eggs, beef _13 13......1. milk. Strange to say, Scanlan has an amaz- ing appetite. He seems to have a keen relish: for his food, and a. peculiar light comes into his eyes while eating. The quantity of food it is thought best to give him is regulated by, the attendant in charge of the yard: 1' 1._1_ :__ ‘l J-cv vâ€" .â€" “B;eakfa.st ave}: the actor lies back in bed and falls into e profound sleep. The ward re-echioes thh the ge§§;§_fie£d_ chatter of the insane. Penis of idiotic laughter, outbursts of insane declamar tion, wild cries and uncouth: sounds are heard. At 11 o’clock the asyLum barber enters the ward to trim the hair and beards of the bedridden patinis. He enters Scanlan's room with.i an attend- ant. The latter arouses the actor from his stupor, props him up m bed. ad just! a. towel round his neck, and then sit: by while the barber performs the task of shaving him. BARBER THEN DINNER. While the barber is at work the pop tient again opens his eyes and regards him with a vacant stare, all uncon- solous of what is going on. \Vhen the barber has gone the at- tendant washes the pitient’s face and hands, brushes his close out hair and :arrays him in a dressing gown. Then [he‘leaves him to go to_sleep again. At 1 o’clock comes dinner. Scanlan eats a rich broth, some finely chopped meat, generally beef or mutton; vege- tables thtat do not require mastica- tion, pudding and milk. He again eat! ravenously and soon after drops of! into a_ stupor. At 3 o’clock carriages enter t‘hb grounds and wind along the gravelled roadway toward the entrance to the male division. They contain friends and relatives of the patients, for this is V‘Jednesday, the day set apart as the Visiting day in this department, and the afternoon trains from New York always bring a large number of via- SCANLAN’S \VIFE VISITS HIM. From one of. the carriages a hand- some woman, richtly dressed, alights and mounts the steps. She smiles cor- dially to the attendants in the office. She is Seaman’s devoted wife, and on every visiting day, rain or shine. since her husband has been inBloomingdale she has made him a visit. She never. comes to the asylum without bringing him somel ittle gift or remembrance. Sometimes it is a basket of fruit, some- times a bunch of sweet flowers. She is regarded by the attendants with the utmost respect and veneration. One of. the attendants leads her through the office to a separate pavil- ion in the rear of the main building. It is in this pavilion that Ward 7 18 situated. Entering her husband’s room she seats herself at his bedside. She takes his hand in hers and bends over him and speaks to him fondly. He seems to recognize her voice, for his eyes open and he turns toward her with a look that has in it a faint gleam of intelligence. In many mute ways he manifests his pleasure but he does not speak, for Scanlan long ago lost his power of speech. HIS CURIOUS MALADY. Half past 4. The time has arrived for the visitors to leave. Mrs. Scanlan arises, bends over her husband and kisses hi s lips fervently. Then uith tears streaming down her cheeks, she leaves the room. Scanlsan’s eyes close again, and he falls back into his usual condition of stupor. At 6 o’clock supper. Scanlan’s meal consists of milk, toawst preserved fruits. and several glasses of milk. In fact. the actor consumes five or six quarts of fresh milk every day. Although the food he takes does not add to his phvsi- cal tstrength it. has made him excesswoâ€" 1y at I- A m‘ 1 He now sleeps until 8. Then two at- tendants enter, lift him from the bed, place him in an invalid’s chair and wheel him to the bath room, where he has a, warm bath and massage. This‘ is This is a t *pical day of the last days of Billy Scan an, the actor, whose merry jibes, clever dancing _ and humorous songs once captivated all the country. His is a remarkable. case. Mos-t suffer- to produce a quieting effect upon his nervous system. Frdrn the bath room he is taken back to his own apartment and placed in _begi _f0r the night. _ ers from paresis die quickly after pass- ing into its last stage. With the ma- jority of cases it is the incipient and violent stages of the disease which have the longest duration; but with Billy Sczmlan the matter has taken a differ- ent course. A jewel case amd pin tray in combin- ation is made by forming a little cup from six sections of cardboard, slightly sloped toward one end. These are covered on both sides with silk and sevni iogether with even slanting stitches. The top of the cup 113 edged with bu’ttonhole stitches of, irregular lengths, and the handle is a piece of wire, covered with silk, ai- ter the manner of the “ring crochet." work; the Wire being inserted in the cardboard wt each end. i The saucer consists of twelve sec- tio-ns of cardboard, similarly shaped and covered, joined to a. small central mund, all the seams being outlined with the even slanting stitch. ‘Ju‘l -â€"â€"--' The cup is fastened in the centre of the saucer \Vhtth mucilage or by a. few strong stitches, and a. round of Chamois skin serves to hide the join- ing and to make a snug bed for the rim-gs my lady drops off her fingers each night . \VASHING CHAMOIS. In washing anything made of Chamois skins use warm water with a little ammonia- in it. _ \Vash by rubbing be- tween the fingers, but. do not wring the Chamois. Press it between the palms of the hands to take out the water,- amd hang before the fire or in the hot sun to dry quickly, rubbing and pull- mg the article into proper shlape every few moments to prevent the skins dry- mg hard and stiff. -'¢ “’L’ u a o . The saucer co‘nvemently holds pins of 33] kinds. THE OPIEiON OF ONE WHO. KNOWS. _;§He-â€"Rol)bie is bound to get mar- r1 . K ' HusbavaYeg amd he’ll be. bound an Infernal Slght tlghber after he is mar- ried... door. I suppose you read it to him. UEVVEL CASE AND PIN TRAY. \Vitth Christmas o’er, Ye man his brain must rake; And out down the cost of life, So that he may buy .his wife A Wheel of thls yeag’fiugekeg THE “FAY OF! IT. the