The Algona Upper Des Moines from Algona, Iowa on December 24, 1890 · Page 3
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The Algona Upper Des Moines from Algona, Iowa · Page 3

Algona, Iowa
Issue Date:
Wednesday, December 24, 1890
Page 3
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THE OTPER DEB MOINES, ALGK)NA» 10^ A WEDNESDAY, JDECEMBM 24,1890. YD* .' w F r bh, t MM ariittiFd that WB t*6 should tatst _ wfi^n I Milled (hat lotiel? Iftfts, 4 . TBat I fotind toil Itee With font Wlovir hair, JTonfc ttfccj nftchnh|i»d, the »hy, ti'lldaht— The fattest Heht that the eyo might greet Toti stood In the hftdge — and we met again. tiow did we mefetf did 1 give one cry, 0 lovet do 1 find ton hefftf— A iQulri'el ted I hftatd overhead, The late tparfmVB close beside me fed, T»o— or W»S it 6n« 1 A bntlof fly Pl«w pastj yet I »aw but yon, my dear. Xerltket's diowey chirp through It all, And a crow's shrill note across; Bathed In the pure wine gods ra*de divine Did the oaken shrubs in the hedge-row shine, And fcho saw tears with the fed leaves fall To give added touch to th* stomach's gloss f we part when life was bright To Meet no more for yeftra f So, through n mist I can gee sun-kissed The nook where we held onr old-tihlo tryst in the mellow glow of the autumn llgb.%— And earth held hater a spot for tears. ^Vhat do we with grief f I have found niy deaf love And otif hearts have beaten in rhyme: Do yon dream, O blind I be they over so kind She can past the thick hedge she Is imil Ing behind Say what can we do love and honor to prove But to part us again,— be it y»ars— or alltlmoT —Sunday llepnbllcan. SPEAKING OF WHALE-BONE. Th» Little DreiHnmker'H Personal dtory. Republican. The day was oppresively hot, and it was my ill fortune that I was obliged to have a dress fitted just tit that time. I was spending the summer among the Virginia mountains in the hope of recovering my health. It had become necessary for me to provide myself with some cooler garments, nnd after diligent inquiry I had found out that my sewing would be gladly done at this tumble-down red farmhouse. The faded little country dressmaker fluttered nervously around me, giving a pat here.and taking in a seam there. While she was making 'ready for the second fitting, I gazed idly aoout tho email sewihg-room which evidently did duty for both parlor and living-room. The fuiniture was draped with faded chintz coverings, and there were many tidies of remarkable workmanship. Quaint shells and pieces of sea-moss adorned the mantal shelf. When I had noted all \these particulars, my glance rested again 'upon" the little drcsB-maker. 1 decided that she was absolutely the most colorless individual that I had ever seen. Her whole face was of a dull tint, with invisible evebrows, her lips were pale and her hair of that faded brown which the children call "dirt-color." She had nondescript undecided features. "I wonder if she has a hiitory to corre«- pond to her appearance. If so, what des- .olately Stupid reading it would make!" 1 •mused indolently. Her voice,broke the stillness: "If you think you can wait, madam, I shall soon have your waist done, and you can take it •with you. I have only the whale-bones to put in now." I assented, and went on with my lazy musing, but I had a new impression of the dressmaker. This little woman, with her pale, worn, uninteresting countenance, had the richest, sweetest of voices—a voice whose round mellow tones suggested all manner of tender thoughts and loving •"-—'a- 1 "-— Nature was certainly guilty unselfishness. of a freak in bestowing those soft,'exquis- , ...ite accents upon such a leaden-hued personality us this. "It is a very warm day for sewing, is it not?" I asked, merely for the sake of hearing that lovely voice again. "Yes," »he answered drearily and went on stiching. AB I could not make hoi- talk, I turned to the opei} window where the fra/rant honeysuckle lured the droon- ing be(^to gather. The,;iront y*rd into which I looked was a most'decided blot on the landscape for it teemetiwith broken tomalo cans, sticks and rubbish of all sorts. The evolution of the front yard must be assigned to the New Englander, I fear, for the southerner has no conception beyond the most primitive and barbarous', of its uses. To him it is merely a place in which to throw things. The yam in question was inclosed by a picket fonce -badly out of repair. Over the rickety hanging gate leaned an appropriate center figure for all this desaolation and confusion. It was a man of tall, lank proportions, dressed in blue jean trousers and a faded pink c.tlico shirt. He had a short pipe between his lips which were shaded by a long tawny mustache. His eyes were large and extraordinarily light, making a strange contrast with his sun- browned face. A young darky boy appeared from the regions in the rear of the house, seated himself on a log, and began meditatively whittling a stick. A frisky black pig was waiting havoc in a patato patch near by. But thedieamer by the gate did not move. The boy from the log looked up once and shouted: "Hi! thar, you hawer, -tiit out of thar!" But he made no effort to dislodge the pig. The scene had a fascination for me. 1 wondered if , thp respective actors would never change their positions, if the man would always remain leaning on the gate; the boy sitting on the log; nnd the pig reveling in the potato patch. Injl.ihejimidst of these foolish fancies, I •was start led by the voice of the little dressmaker, that strange, sweet, haunting voice again. -She also had caught a glimpse of the Etiuution outside which was interesting me and now she started up and called, "Sam! Sam! pointing at the same .time to the potato patch. The dreamer by the gate awoke t'iis time. As he turned, I could see by the close resemblance which he bore to the little woman that they were brother and sister, He shambled off to attack the pig and his sister returned to her work, She was now cutting a long strip of whalebone into shorter pieces. "How strange to think what use we make of the bones of the largest animal on the globe!" I said. I made the rein ark carelessly,' but jt had a startling effect on my companion. She glanced at me swiftly, her hand trimbled, and lo, she sat pale and neutral no longer, for the rosy color rushed into then that She was gong to tell the story and 1 settled myself comfortably tot the recital '•Well, the little woman began With c rathet hefvoUs laiigb, "our family was not always situated as you see us now. I believe it is the proper thing to begin unfortunate family histories in that way, is it hot? But it is no mere romantic dream with u«, madamj for my brothet and J can retnetnher when a handsome white mansion stood in ( of thin old red shanty of ours. Once all the fields of waving grain that you can see about Us belonged to my father. Now that potato patch and a few rods back .of the house are all that we retain of our former property. "My father's position here in the heart of-Virginia was sometraat peculiar, for he ivas a New Englander, born -ind bred in the state of Vermont. When .he .was a young man of about 25, a distant relation in the south died and left him this estate. He came on to look at his new possession, and found, of c6urse, that along with the plantation he had inherited a number of sluves. My father hated slavery, and though he could not decide to sell the property when he savr the fait broad acres of rich Virginia soil, he determined to abolish slave labor there. He freed the slaves therefore, and isent for some of his old acquaintances in the Vermont village to come and aid him in his new adventure. They came and my father's New England thrift made a success of what was a phenomenon, strange enough, in those days— a Virginia farm run by free labor. His neighbors regarded him as a sort of modern Quixote, but they respected his enterprise and energy, and he was soon received in the tpod social circles. He had a handsome face and a pleasing manner, so it was not long before he found a wife. "My mother loved my father, .but she always had a sort of good-natured contempt for his ideas about slavery. This feeling of hers my arother Sam inherited. He was always mother's favorite child, for ne was handsome while I was insignificant and homely. She seemed to take a delight in fostering all kinds of aristocratic notions in Sam's mir:d as he grew. This she continued to do as long as she lived, which was until Sam and I were 13 and 15 respectively. "So you see, Madam, my father and my brother differed on that most important subject—slavery, and many an angry altercation took place between tne two as my brother approached manhood. The year that Sam was 18, my father took him from the academy in the neighboring town and set him at work upon the farm, 'to make a good Vermont lad of him.' All this was very distasteful to Sam, who had no wish to settle down into a country pumpkin, as he expressed it. My father was firm, however, and Sam went about his tasks more and more sulkily every day. But he was always a reticent boy, and my father thought he would soon come out of his ili- humor. "On one particular morning, Sam started down the lane to drive the cows to our back pasture three miles away. I remember the morning just as well; the air was very cool and the honeysuckles by the porch were so fragrano! I often went with Sam when he drove the ciws to pasture, as I liked to stop in the blackberry patsh, a mile or so clown the road, and Sll my pail while 1 was waiting his return. So this pleasant morning I appeared with my purple calico sunbonnet in one hand and in the other my tin pail. When my brother caught sight of me he said quiaK- )v: -Better not come with me to-day Eiiuic,-, I'm in a hurry and you couldn't keep up.' I thought his voice had a queer Eound. I was not disconcerted, however, as I was used to his ways, so I replied cheerfully that 1 would try any way. He turned around and said curtly, 'But I don't want you.' 1 stopped short in the lilac-bordered path and watched him go so that I could SBe nothing. I conld heaf the cows walk leistilrely by on their way to the barn-yard; but I was consciotis that the stranger had stopped. " 'She stands in the same place and looks just the same as the did that morning— but the house!" 1 heard him murmur. 1 dashed the tears, frotn my eyes and i-eiiog- nized in that tall stranger, with the long mustache sweeping his cheek, my toother who had gone away a boy four years before. I ran aiid flung myself on his breast and sobbod tot joy. "if'You see I brought the cows home again safely, Eunice, though 1 did wait four years to uo it," he said, in the old quiet way. "He picked mo up and carried me to the little porch out therej and then he asked: "'Where is father, and oh, Eunice, what has become of our old home? 1 " 'Gone!' I said; t 'All gone in the war! Father, killed in battld, and the soldiers burned the house.' •' 'War!' my brother cried, 'what war? My God, Eunice, what are you talking about?' I looked at my brother, scarcely less ttrrified than he. 'Sam Bradshaw, do you mean to tell me,' I screamed, 'that you do not know that this country has been in civil war for the past four years; the South against tho North; shvery against abolition?' "My brother sank down on the step in a dazed fashion and covered his face with his hands. 'This is too much all at once.' he murmured. 'And father fought ?' he asked at last. " 'On the Union side' I replied. "I noticed then that Sam wore a sailor's uniform and not a soldier's. I was burning to know ho_w he came to be in such unaccountable ignorance of the state of things in our country, but 1 saw that he was overcome by the tidings that I had juat given him. We satin this way for some time. When my brother uncovered his face he was a changed man. His eyes had a dreamy, far away look like as a man might who' should awake suddenly after a long sleep and find himself in a new world, and could not adjust himself to the strange, new conditions. I could wait no longer. 'Sam, where have you been?' "He started, collected himself and began: "When I left here that morning four years ago I walked all the way to Norfolk. I determined never to return home again and I did not much care what became of me so long as I should not be obliged to work on a farm. In this frame of mind I joined a whaling expedition just starting out for a four years' cruise. In all that time we did not put in at any regular port; we met no vessels which gave us any information concerning the _ v/ar. Many a time I regreted what I had done after it was impossible to return. As soon as we landed at Norfolk, a week ago, I started to walk home. THE FARM AND HOUSEHOLD, WHY THK cotvs CAME LATE. Crimson sunset burnlne O'er the tree-fringed hills: Golden arc the meadows, Knby -flushed th* rills, Quiet in the farmhouse, Home the farmer hies: But his wife is watching, Blinding anxious eyes, While (he lingers with her p»ll, beside the barn- Jard gate, Wondering why her Jenny and the cows come home so lute. Jenny, brown-eyed maiden, Wandered down the lane— That wns ere the daylight Had begun to wane. Deeper crew the shadows; Circling swallows cheap ! Katydids are calling: Mists o'er meadows creep. Still the mother shades her eyes, betide the barnyard gate, Aid wonders where her Jenny and the cows can be so lutel Lowing sounds are falling, Homeward now at last. Speckle, Bess and Brindlo, Through the gatfts have passed, Jenny sweetly blushing, Jamie, grave mid shy, Takes the pall from mother, Who stands silent by. Not a word Is spoken as the mother shuts the gate- Now she knows why Jenny and the cows some home so late! —Omaha World. ALT., SOIITS. I was so impatient to start that I did not even wait for the disposal of our cargo and the division of our profits, but I left Norfolk as 1 had entered it, empty handed. I traveled as fast a» I could and spoke to no one on the road. So I learned no news in that way."' "My story is nearly /lone, Madam," the little woman said, with some of that old-time stately grace which still clings to all southern women of the earlier regime. My brother never lost that dreamy If you have milch cows it will be better to feed all pig corn to them, unhusk- ed. stalk and all, rather thaii spend time and make your thumb sore husking it, as it takes longer than to husk a good ear. It is folly to blanket a horse in the stable, and then leave a ventilator open to give him the cold wind over his back ana under him. There is too much so- called_ventilation given in cojd weather and it causes much discomfort to animals. Improving the Breed. It cannot be questioned that breeds have had a beginning at some period, and that the special excellencies possessed by each one_ are the results of long and persistent training, of which a good feeding has been a large an.1 important element. How has the Jersey cow become possessed of her wonderful digestive ability, by reason of wl.ich she can dispose of 100 pounds of the most nutritious food in 24 hours and extract from it as much as seven pounds of butter in that time? Certainly by a long training: in the consumption and disposal of a large quantity of food. How can our cjmmon native stock be improved without better feeding as the. first step, and then by judicious cultivation by breed- ahipunt of enjoymetit ont of each other' society. This cannot bi; done, especial I) in a country whern "help" is chroniealj uncertain, and uniformly unreliable, tin less it is planned for lleforehund. Pro- grammes for entertainment jnnst be thought out and arrange*!, and, if there is entertaining in connection with the visit invitations must be issued and prepara tiphe made for "substantial" part of the dinner or luncheon. Thii cannot be done where the hosf.ess is "surprised." In military annals sur prises are usilally disasters and result in rout and defeat. It seems to be a characteristic of the surprise, in any form, and it is neither welcome nor safe. There is no housekeeper who does not know what it is to hear, with sinking heart, the luggage of the unexpected guest heaped without ceremony in the front hall on washing, baking, or sweeping day. As greetings are exchanged the reflection crosses her mind that the spare room is dismantled, the bed unmade after a two or three days' airing, no towels in the rack and no water in the pitcher. She must let other work be and attend to thfise things herself or call up tho flushed and worried maid from tho lower regions, interrupting proceedings there. She may also reflect that there is nothing for dinner, but the cold viands which would have answered in thu strict privacy of the family circle, but which will not do for the guest, expected or unexpected. So the unanticipated ev. nt sets the wholo house in a turmoil. Hospitality, refinement and culture may rise superior to these conditions, but unregenorate human nature, which is strong in the average char.icter, cannot. Everybody can divide their friends into two classes—those tvhom they like and those whom they like better. The preference, it may be sure, is given to the considerate—who may not bo the most intelligent, beautiful, or most uniformly amiable. But the considerate IB the comfortable person, one who manages to fib into the domestic economy without interfering, and who slips out again in tho same agreeable manner. The letter of announcement and the visiting card are symbols of civilization which must bo respected by those who hope to re.iw its perfect rewards. M. H. K. LEGEXDS OI? TIJ.K BELLS. down the road. Sain did not that day or watched for came. the next, long, long come home and though we weeks, he never her cheeks and transformed her before my eyes. I looked at he wonderingly and became anxious to solve the mystery. "Would you mind telling me," I queried, "why you were so moved when I spoke of a-——whalebone?" Again the trembling and the becoming blush—what a very little body she was, to be f ur#! "It called up very vividly the story of my life, which I suppose you had heard in the village," she murmured. "Would it hurt you very much to tell it to nie yourself'?" I inquired eagerly, She thought a moment. It was a perfect but then it was a relief, no doubt, to have some one to tiMk to in that ramote Virginia farmhouse. "' whether it would interest you "V sht said, at last, jn her drawl. '*Th«re are pl w to be heard in the sou " ' i,| oujs," "He went away in October, and the next spring the civil war broke out. My father decided that Sam had run away from home to enlist on the southern side. He said little, but 1 knew that Sam's conduct was bmiking his heart. We were in desperate straits now for my father's known anti-slavery opinions made his position in the center of rebellion decidedly dangerous. He managed, though, to escape the Union lines and died fighting in his country's cause. "I was lift with the house servants to take care of things when father went away. He said he did not think that a woman would ao molested. But he was wrong, for when the southern forces encamped in the mountains here they Jearnud the story of our plantation. One day some cowardly rufllans from the army crept up our lane ami set fire to our buildings and fields of standing grain. ]t was done without the sanction or even knowledge of the southern officers. I had been warned of danger and bad (led with two old servants to a dar- ky's hut fai upon the mountain. From thut night I watched the destruction of all our property. Madam, it is impossible to describe the feelings of a person who is compelled to stand by and see his home sink in ashes—and that the result of wanton destruction! "I lived a hand-to-mouth, fugitive existence on the hills with my faithful friends until it was safe for me to go down and do what 1 could to restore our home. All this time no word had come from Sam, and 1 thought sorrowfully that he, too, had perished in the war. And fighting aguinst his own father! I had buried some of our silver in the back yard, and so saved it. With this I procured the means of building a house to cover our heads. This poor, cheap shanty was all that we could afford. Herel settle t down with old Tompkins and his wife, Nellie, our former servants. We were very poor, 1 did a little sewing now and then when I could get it. Jn time we were able to buy three cows and then 1 made butter for the markets. And in this way we managed to live. "One evening I started to the barn to re- look from his eyes. He has it still. He has never been able to gain his bearings in the changed circumstances to which ho returned that June evening. He settled with me on our pitifully small farm. But he was not fitted to be a farmer; my father made the old mistake, in Sam's case, of trying to put a square block in a round holei. Since that time, we have grown poorer and poorer, until we are as you see us now. And that, Madam, is the story that flashed through my mind when you spoke of a — whalebone." A VTord for Husbands. My experience o£ men is that they are more disposed to bide up the faults and mistakes of their wives than to expose them. I have traveled much, and a peep into more jjhouses, both among the rich and the poor, than most women; and I say that such a husband is a "rare avis" —for even a working man would scorn to "openly sneer before visitors" if anything went wrong. A young wife commencing housekeeping, with a cook almost as experienced |aa herself, bought a melon and boiled it. She was triumphant and pleased to have a surprise for her husband. The parlor-maid put tho dish before him, lifted the cover, find lo! the melon stood confessed. It had not even been peeled, the melted butter covered the dish, but had not succeeded in disguising the melon, which stood up and confronted him, polished, green, and shining. He was a fastidious man, with a quick temper naturally, but one glance at his pleased and blushing wife kept the temper in the back ground, and brought 'the gentleman to the front. "Maxwell tells me that these vegetables are diseased this season, and ought not to be ea u en hot. He has heard of a sad case of illness, already. Fxcuse me, my dear, but Mary had better remove it.". There was a little private conversation after dinner, and that young wife does not love her husband the less that he saved her a bitter mortification.—London Daily News. ing? If the good results of higher feeding can be projected into the progeny of an animal, and this process be continued for years, cannot a breed be formed in time by persevering in this course? Have not our domestic animals been inipro red in this way? And if so, is not the better nutrition and the cultivated ability to digest and dispose profitably of food the first step? If not, perhaps some professor who thinks otherwise will instruct his pupils in the art of establishing tin improved breed by means of a low scale of feeding, and in tinrn getting down to the example of the storied horse who would have lived on one straw a dtiy if he had not died in the course of training.—N. Y. Times. Beet Sugar. Secretary of Agriculture Rusk has just returned from a trip to Grand Island, Nebraska, where he haa been to inspect the large and well-equipped beet sugar factorj' there established. This is the only beet sugar factory this side of the Itocky mountains. There are two Others in California that have been in successful operation for a number of years. The supply of beets for this factory is obtained by contract with over 600 farmers, covering an area of 100 miles in every direction, and a stock of 2,000 tons of beets is deemed necessary before the factory should start. The secretary concludes that the outlook for successful beet culture in this country is encouraging. The dangers are the venturesomeness of manufacturers, lack of sufficient capital, and experience or complete plant, and, with farmers, a neglect of scientific methods and painstaking care beginning with tun seed which the sample crops of this country have never received. It may be interesting in this connection for our readers to know that France produced Tlie Warnings »uil JMoKHJigre* They arc Said to King; Out. One of the most interesting legends is that relating to the SiUnt Tower of Bot- treaux. In days long ago the inhabitants of the parish of Forrabury determined to have a peal of bells which should rival those of the neighboring church of Tintogel which are said to have rung merrily at tho marriage and tolled solemnly at the dea',h of Arthur. The bells were cast; they were blest and shipped for Forrabury. All went well. The voyage was favorable, the ship glided with a fair wind along the northern shores of Cornwall, and waited for the tide to carry her safely into the harbor of Bpttreaux. The vesper bells rang out at Tintogel, and when the pilo heard them he tent his knee, and thankee God for the safe and quick voyage tha that they had made. The captain laughec iiim to scorn, saying that they hud onl; themselves to thank for their speedy voy age, and with his aim in the helm, am his judgment to guide them, they would soon have a happy landing. The piloi checked his profane speich, but tht impious captain swore more prof an el j still that all was due to himself. "Maj God forgive you," was the pilot's reply. While yet the captain's oath was hoard, while yet the inhabitants on tha cliffs expecting to see the vessel charged with their bells safe in their harbor, onwarc came in all the terror of its po^er anc mightiness, one of those huge waves which are not unknown on the northern shores of Cornwall. The ship rose nol upon the waters as it camp onward. She was overwhelmed, and sank in an instant close to the land. "As the vessel sank the bells were heard tolling with a muffled sound, as if ringing the death knell of the ship and sailors, of whom the good pilot alone escaped with life."—\Vhen storms are coining—and only (.hen—tho bells) of Forrabury, with the dull-muffled sound, are heard from beneath the sea, a warning to the wicked; but the tower has remained to this clay silent. Many superstitions were attached to a bell belonging to the chapel of St. Fillan; they were made known by the minister of Killia parish, Perthshire, in 1778, at which time it appears tho ideas mentioned had not wholly died aw Ay. Tho bell was usually laid on a grave stone in the church yard. Insane people were brought to it to be cured. They were first dipped, with certain ceremonies into the "Saint doubted, many persons believing that 8t Paul's clock could hot be heard at Wind' sor. but Sir Edward Beckett thinks it might have been heard and gives instances in confirmation of his opinion, adding that "nobody hns yet solved the problem why a wind—which you can hardly feel— will make the difference of your hearing bells half a mile or ten miles,' according fut the wind is with jou or against." SITTING BtTM/S SIIHKAVD WAYS. tie Works on the Snprrntltlnnl of th« Iml- inns for K front. ST. PAUij, Dec 16.—Today's, advices from Standing Rock are to the effect that the arrest of Sitting Bull was decided upo» by Agent McLaughlin when ho heard on Sunday that the wily old chief and followers were about to set out lor the bad lands. Once there it would be a long time and there would be much hard fighting before any of the hostiles could be taken or starved out. Therefore, orders were given to the police and they set oat Sunday night, the troops following. By early morning the police had reached thp camp, the cavalry being three miles in th* rear and the infantry much farther away. <">" reaching the camp, the police_foun'd On mind Tompkins that it was time for him to go the back pasture } for the cows, . There was a wonderfully beautiful sunset thnt day; gruat bars of red and gold spanned the western sky. I stopped awhile in the path, among the dear old lilacs to watch the glory fade. As I stood there I happened to glance down the lane. What I saw there made a*y heart stand still. Up the lane caine our three cows, Brindle, Bessy and Jane, and behind them walked a tall figure in a blue uniform with a knapsack over his shoulder. I took in the situation at a glai-ce, as I thought it wns a Union _soldier who, taking us for southern enemies, was going to take away our COTS, our sole mean* for living. All the forces on either side seemed to think cattle their legitimate prey, frmud. My Jjewt felled we for I had already suffered |Q many sorrows Mj 9J99 ftHi4 A Choice Christmas Cuke. One of the best authorities on the household editorial staff of the Ladies' Home Journal gives the following excellent recipe for a Christmas cake in the December number: Cream one pound of butter and add one pound of soft white sugar. Beat fourteen eggs very light, the yelks and whites separately. Sift and warm one pound o: flour, and add it by tho handful to the sugar and butter alternately with the egg yelks and whites. Stir in one tablespoonful of essence of lemon and one tablespoonful of mixed spices, beaten very fine and sifted. Have ready two pounds ol stoned and chopped raisens; two of currants, picked, washed and dried; two of citron, cut small; two pounds of almonds, blanched and pounded with rose-water, and one gill of sweet cider. Mix the fruit and cider thoroughly into the cake, and bake it very ilowly and carefully. 750,000 tons of beet sugar last year; Ger-[Pool." The bell irtu placed in the chn pel," many, 1,260,000 tons,of which she export- -•'•-—^ -' '-----' ••• l • ' ed 600,000 tons. In 1884 the production of cane nnd beet sugar were nearly equal, amounting to 2,500,000 tons. In 1890 beet sugar shows a gain in production over cane sugar of nearly 1,000,000 tons We imported of beet sugar from Germany 816,031,481, and of cane sugar from Cuba, $38,400,000 in value. Wo firmly believe that with knowledge wo can produce all our own sugar at a profit. We raise wheat, corn, cattle and hogs, pay inland and ocean freights, and sell them in competition with these very beet sugar farmers of France and Germany, and then buy their beet sugar and bring it homo. We have cheaper lands, ever variety of climate and soil and a bounty of two cents per pound, which is one cent the French or German Now why not study this il- *£ Al.~ _ I-T L -J _ ' Happiness is a sunbeam which may pass through a thousand bosoms without losing H partical of its original ray:|nay, when it strikes on a kindred heart, like the converged light on a mirror, it reflectf itself with double brightness. Happiness js not perfected till i» is shared.—Porter. A popular fancy in tablecloths is a. fine satin-finished linen, quite plain, with hemstitched border or with a drawn-work feojdor above the hem. The «-'-*' of the same material »»d are Witch, the, ' " more than either government pay, subject, and got out of the "old rut of'rais- ing all corn and wheat. If wheat-growing countries like France find it profitable to raise beets and buy wheat, why should not we find it profitable to raise beots and less wheat, with three to four thousand miles of freight cost and one cent more bounty in our favor? The wheat market of the world is becoming more difficult yearly. It is an old system, and the oldest and only buyer of importance finds numerous and urgent sellers and can wait. Ther»is no hope in that direction, except what occasional crop failures may bring. Take 12,000,000 of acres of the 87,000,000 now sown with wheat and put it into beets, and this country will have neither sugar to buy nor wheat to sell, Now, farmers, what do you say to this? The Unexpected Visitor. There are many respects ia which the English woman sets her American sister a good example. One is in the definite understanding which ehe has ordained between the guest and the hostess. The guest expects, as a matter of course, that her hour of departure shall be fixed with us much precision us that of her arrival. It does not argue lack of hospitality, but it is an agreement which economizes time and periwit* the Bystenjatisintr of plans. The nerves are spared a yast amount of unnecessary friction, and both the enterr taiper and entwined, c^n guttle themselves io get the greate»t where it remained, bound with ropes, all night. Next day it was placed upon the heads of the lunatics with great solemnity, but wiih what results is not nmd<» knowii It was the popularopinion that, if stolen this bell would extricate itself from the hands of: the thief and return home, ring iiifj all the way. Most learned writers on bell lore tel the story of the Raleigh bells, or rather o: those in a village near Raleigh, wind many yuurs a';o was swallowed up by «u earthquake. As lately as the year 187'2 it was the custom of the people to assem ble Christmas day in tho Valley caused 03 the ealrhquiike, where they declared thai by placing the ear to th« y round am listening attentively, they could hear the rintring of the buried bella. The villagers really 1 eml the ringing of tho bells of a neighboring church. With the sound of bells and peals ol bells a likeness to lertfun words and phrases has fallen on the ear. The following are examples of the fancy: There is a saying that tho Burton bells used to call across the Trent to Lincolnshire, "Who rings best? Who rings best?" to which Luddington replied, "We two, we two!" The bells of North Thoreaby and of another adjacent village with three bells each are supposed to ask each other, "Who rings best? Who rings best?" to which the bells of another place reply, "We do, we do!" And we are all more or less familiar with the old rhymes beginning: PancnkfS and fritters Say the bells of St. Peter's. In Chambers' Book 1 ^ Days we find the well known Ipstory of the sentinel whose life was saved by the incorrect striking of St. Paul's clock. J. H., who died June 18, 1770, at the age of 10?, was, when ti soldier, in the time of William and Mary, tried by a court'inartial for having fallen asleep when on duty upon the terrace at Windsor. Ho denied the charge, declaring as a proof that he heard St, Paul's clock strike thirteen! Fortunately several persons had hewd it also, and the man's life -was saved. The bell that struck on this important occasion wa» Tom. of Westminster, and it is suggested that ?«oh a thing wight have happened through etiffpesp or sow the campers almost ready to move. Sitting Bull wws seized, placed under arreit, but not bound, and the police quickly started for the ag-ency. But the Followers of the oil man soon got over their surprise, and a sharp fire wa* at >nce opened on the police. The police re- 'ponded in kind and several fell from their liorses, among the number Sitting Bull his son, 131 nek Bird. The old medi- ;ine man had tried to direct matters for a time by loudly shouted orders, but his fall ipset the hostiles. They at onco rallied, riowcvcr. and surrounded the police, who fought bravely and well, but would soon have been overpowered had not the rivalry, who had been sent for, arrived o» ;he scene. Thu police were at that iirae ilinost out of ammunition, and were light- ng hand to hand, but the sight of the sol- .Uers and tho roar of the machine guns Uarmed the hoslilns and they fled up the Grand river. The cavalry followed for a short distance and then returned to camp and took possession oi the bodies of Sitting 3ull and his son. Four policemen were filled and three wounded, and it ii thought altogether eight of the hostile* were killed. Crow Foot, the 12-year-old =on of Sitting Bull, and a number of others were wounded. Sitting Bull's fol- owers, when they fled up tho Grand river, eftbcnind them all the tentNund famitiei which will be turned over to the agency. After going a short distance up tho river, •he fleeing redskins scattered and went off in all directions through the country •oward the bad lands. Someol: them may ,ry to reach the Indians of Ten Strike's mnk farther south, while others will seek to escape to the north. However, there id little shanco for them in any direction. The ioldiers are located all around tho Bad jands, and the .Indians will have little chance to get at the few ranches that are located in that district. Evert if they attempt to go on small raids the soldiers are so placed as to head them off. The effect of the death of Sitting Bull is problematical. He was not a chief in the sense of being a leader in battle, and never has been addressed as chief, but the wily, ambitious old rascal, with inore^ of the pojitician in him than is ordinarily credited to a savage. By working on tho superstitions and fear* of the Indians he gained whatever preit- age he had, and just how those who survive him will take bin death cannot be estimated. Other leaders who haled him will surely not seek to avenge his death. Still he had gained a considsrable following among; the ghost dancers and these may attempt something in _ revenge. People around Bismarck and in the neighborhood of the Standing Rock Agency are tfrattly wrought up over the killing and express fears for the outcome. They think the followers that Bull had at the time of his death will attack the scattered settlers along the frontier and kill a'J whom they can. The scene at the agensy today is indescribable. The death of the Indian policemen, the flowar of the tribe, will be mourm>d by the squaws for weeks, and -the old warrior* will go in jiiourning for the present. It will be a-graritl-'l-jriiiitinSfunentl,. these po- Cal.;D«c 16.—Thp Indians $y. have begun dancjng. They T . >ld'a;dance about'January, but it was hatched this yoar by tho runners' from Nevada,; who informed them that the eastern IndiaTjCwe'ria dancing and the HOME. The OiigresBiimn ia Culled to Attend Hit • Mother in levy's .Funeral. ' J), 0,, Dec. 16.—Congressman Bur wig ib,.'- - *otiight, called homo to Mayvilfe by I he death of his inolher-in-liiw. Mrs, Barwig did not c->tni) to Washington at the beginning of the session, but remained at her mother'» bedside. She will return with her husband and remain during the betsion. The physicians had toll Mr, Barwig before he came to Washington that liis mother would not live long and ho took a final farewell of her before he left home. She had deeded her ebtate to him in trust for her four children. It consists of 160 acres of land adjoining Milwaukee, and worth $200,000. This farm Barwig many years, find she loved him as she would one of her own children, SENSATION WAUKESHA. The Kesort U Again Drlftinc In It« Ol<| Cliuuels. WAUKESIIA, Wis., Dec. 16.—Wauke-' sha's reputation for sensations is a«ajn o» the rise, this time became of the main* luonial disagreements of Mr, and Mrs. John McCue, Mr. McCue ill qne of the old and trusted engineers of the ' Wisconsin Central road. His wifeis ahandjonjft.i clashing woman and the mother flfitwo bright children, . ' **'*™v Some time ago Mri. McCue unwrpr inoneously left bar home and husband, taking up her abode &t a neighboring hotel. Mrs. McCue brought suit for 4f, , vorce, alleging cruelty and inhuman treat* meat, " Dec. 16.-Mr. Price, , _ ._ introduced t» the houst resolution, mstrucupg the ways $nd m«$) connniUee to report tath« bow fey J* uary 5, the »ub<-tre!wury pill. „.„.„., Pec. 1^, S| ;od«r wporUd with »8 t „ ?<*

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