The Algona Upper Des Moines from Algona, Iowa on January 14, 1891 · Page 3
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The Algona Upper Des Moines from Algona, Iowa · Page 3

Algona, Iowa
Issue Date:
Wednesday, January 14, 1891
Page 3
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THE WPEE DES MOtNES. ALCtOHA. tOWA, WEDNESDAY. JANUARY 14,1891. 8ABAB itARIE-BHIOHAM. "Lord Wflverlandj 1 would Show them that 1 valued toy word far more than my Wealth or my pride!" Aa she Uttered the'se Words she looked a very goddess of Justice in her quiet dignity. ''Well, we'll see," he said, and left the room, Alter Lord Wnverland and his friends had retired, louring my mother, Miss Everett, myself and a few servants in the great empty hall, mother said: "How terrible to think that men ore, driven to seek such revenge!" "1 Was just thinking what a change from the last time we were in this room. Then all was light, warmth and beauty," I'said, going to the window and looking out at the burning pile. "I cannot blame them," said Miss Everett. "They have suffered beyond the power of endurance." Seeing how exhausted my mother looked, I took her in my arms and carried her to her room. When' I reached my room I could not Bleep. The timbers of the stable were yet burning, aud cast a weird light into my window. I fancied I could see the blackened forms of all the horses and cattle on the place, as they probably lay roasting in their stalls. Then I remembered by whose aid we had been saved from a terrible deaih. So complete had been tho arrangements of the mob, that not a door or window had been left unguarded. The orclei was given to fire on any one who shouli , attempt to escape, That was the reason o: the shot that came whizzing post my beat as I opened the window. Almost unconsciously to myself, Miss Everett had become very dear to me. Her quiet ways and pleasant fane had not onl brought sunshine into the houso, but into my heart as well. I felt glad that to her we were indebted. But what would bs the result of this night's work? was an oft returning thought. Would Lord Waver land listen to reason and humble hiinsel enough to make terms with his outraged tenants? or would his prouQ heart bring further calamities on his family? With the first sign of day I went out to look at the ruins the fire had made. Tin long line of stables was now a smoulder Ing pile. But 1 was gladly surprised to sei the horses coming one after another f o their morning feed. I found that every living thing had been removed before th fire was kindled. So, I thought, the; !> show more kindness to tho beasts than tc . man. But I do not believe that they would have burned the hoiue. They only though to frighten Lord AVaverland into comply ing with their requests. When the break fast bell sounded I went to tho dinin room, but it was empty. I thought Lore Waverlaud and his friends were makin up for their lost sleep. When an hou passed and no one appeared, a search wa instituted. It' wa > soon discovered tha they all had left in the night. A mail from Lord Waverland's room brought m a.note, saying: "I found this under Lord Waverland' pillow." I opened the note and read: "Loyd, you may deal with tho bruta tenants as you think best. I shall neve set foot in this house again if I escap alive. I shall return to Paris, where life is more agreeable,—where I can live without the fear of being mobbed or burned alive. Siit KUWABD WAVEKLAND." This, then, was tho way ho chose to protect himself. When the tenants began to gather, calling for Lord Waverlaud, and found that he had left, they wore very angry. One man who seemed to be theii leader said. "That is just the way with tho English from the highest down! you cannot trust their promi:-2Sl" "I will listen to your requests," I said, as they began to murmur their complaints. "You! what right have you to arrange things? When my lord returns he will blame us for making terms with you," said the leader. When he said that I took the note I had received from my pocket book, saying. "Here is my authority," and I read it tc them. That was sufficient evidence and they were willing to make now contracts with me. "Now, what are your grievances," ] asked. "We want our rent lowered to the Griffith valuation!" (that being tho rate thc- Land League had adopted) said the speaker. "Well, if you will come with me I will do tho best I can for you," I paid, leading the way to the library, where L had a map of tho estate and a book containing the reut roll and the accounts of the tenants, Tho first thing I did was to lower the rent to the Griffith valuation and than from the rent roll I made u settlement with each tenant to the now rule. Then as fast as possible I reinstated Dose who had been evicted, or provided for them in some other way. From that time I began in earnest to work for the welfare of my people and to save "my inheritance." On going to the drawing-room oner-iora- Ing I found Miss Everett there, watching tho sunrise on the lake and among the grand old mountains. • "Well, little girl," I said, ns I came to her "you seem charmed." "Yes, Sir Loyd, this is a charming view. I have watched the sunrise from here for the last six months, and every morning It presents a different picture. Just now, see the grand old mountains are shaded by a fleecy cloud. But look, there comes a streak of sunlight like a rainbow on its brow. And there in the distance is the O'Sullivan cascade. We can see its dano- """Ing waters like a silver thread sparkling in ihe sunlight, but we cannot hear its deaf- /ening roar as it rushes from crag to crag tn reckless haste!" "It is a grand sight. I never saw it before at sunrise. You see what a lazy follow I have been," I said, watching her expressive face. "How I wish my pencil would obey my will," she said, as though forgetful of my presence. "Have you ever labored and wished for anything with ail your heart, and then lelt the keen anguish of a disap- appointment?" she asked, turning toward me as she spoke. "No, I have never been enough In earnest to feel a disappointment very keenly," Denied dbt&estld little hotisekeepef; and he tie*i, watching the fitful play of sub- bine and shadow on the lake and mountains. She seemed like a caged bird refldjr 16 break Its prison bars and to fly away. While I stood looking more at her than at the scene, the breakfast bell sounded, an Instant she was again the domestic little woman, whose pet theory was that re should all meet at breakfast or dinners 'or social enjoyment. Here It was we rend the morning papers. How eagerly we watched Pnrnell in his eventful career, or dstonc'H tii-w position, or how the trou- >le betweaii Knjrland and Russia would be settled. T!ii* morning as we took our places a telegram was handed to my mother. 'What is it, mother?" I asked, ns hei lace grew deathly white and her hands jrembled. She handed me the telegram, saying, "Lord Waverland is dead! He was killed at a gambling table in Paris," With a Bad, white face she rose to leave the table. I assisted her to her own room. As I was about to leave her, she said. "Once 1 thought I loved him! But leave me now, my son. I would like to be alone." There was little real sorrow felt for the dead husband, father, and master of Waverland. He had been a cold, protid man, and his overbearing nature had dwarfed the good qualities he possessed. His remains were brought home and placed in the family vault. Thus closed the life of one possessed of every accident and opportunity to make a noble man. "I have," she said. "I have spent hours trying to put just a, faint shadow of this beautiful scene on canvas, But disappointment has always been my reward." "J never knew this was such » picturesque place," i said. "J believe you have bewitched tho sunlight, to change world to yourself! This old house was never B.Q bright before! 1 ' What a strange girl she was! One moment J wcmW find feor in the kitchen, with « pJ<|ftB white apron pn, (Meeting the aerv< CHAPTER VI.—THE NEW THEORY. The iuhcritancp was mine. It came heavily mortgaged. I had not finished making my settlement with the tenants at the time of Lord Waverland's death. I Continued, however, just as I had begun. One morning at breakfast I said: "I am almost tired of being landlord. There are so many responsibilities connected, with it. In settling up with my tenants on the estate I find thousands of pounds duo now, after the reductions I- have made. I cannot go out and force these poor fellows to pay. Some of them with all the help I have given and can give will suffer before spring. The long wet season has made tho peat unfit to burn, and what can be done? There is Michael Malone has a holding of ten acres, but it has not brought him a living this year. If it were not for his son in America he could never pay his rent. And his is not an exceptional case. There are millions of dollars coming from the Irish boys and girls in America to help keep up this farce of landlordism in Ireland." "Is that true?" asked my mother. "I did not know money ever came from America to Ireland, except In time of famine." "I remember hearing my father say it was a heavy tax on the Irish-Americans, this unjust laud system of Ireland," remarked Stella. "That is very true," said I, "and yet we often hear that if tenants were only industrious and sober they could pay their rents. That may bo true sometimes, but very few of our tenants are intemperate. Their small acreage is not enough to raise food for the family without paying rent. So where is iny living to come from?" "Why don't you have the pretty soldiers come and help you?" asked Myrtle. "I like to see thorn. Papa had them when he washere." "Little sister," I said, "when the soldiers come some one must leave home. Would you like for the soldiers to come and turn us all a^vay?" She sat a moment thoughtfully, then said: "Was it tho soldiers that wanted to burn our house?" "No, but it was because the soldiers hod sent so many from home. The men grow angry, aud wanted to burn our houso for revenge," I answered. "Miss Stella, if you are at liberty I would like your help iu the library for a moment," I said, as we left the table. As we entered the library I took her hand. I held it with the firm grasp of a friend. How sweet, how pure the love of that plain, simple girl seemed to me oil that winter's morning. For a moment I did not speak, for fear my voice would tell her of my love too soon, and by its unexpectedness deprive me of the gift I craved. For a time we stood in silence. It seemed an age to me, so many hopes and fears were crowded in tho pause. But really, as time is measured, it was but a moment. Then I spoke. "Now, my little friend," I said, "it was your words that mode me take an interest In this work. Can you help me solve this problem, how to relievo the suffering and misery of our people?" Stella's cheeks flushed as I spoke and she turned from uie to the table. She have felt tho impulse of my heart, for she remained silent. Then again I said. "I need the aid of your clear judgment. Will you give it?" Turning lie.' clear brown eyes to mine, Bhe suid. "Sir Loyd, I know so little about laws governing landlord and tenant, that I can not aid you in this matter." "You remember the widow that had her oat stack burned and came to beg for mercy on the rout. I have marto her little houso into n school room and she is the teacher." "I know that, Sir Loyd," said Stella, with animation. "I have often been there and helped lior with her teaching." "You have been there, when." "Often when 1 have been out riding or walking. A::ii J heard how you bought the improvements on Mel! ee'n holding so he could go to America and get n home of his own. And I have also heard how you atre fixing up tho old tenant houses rnoro comfortably than they ever were before," she said archly. "You littlu-spyl I did not know you wero watching mo." "I was not watching you, Sir Loyd, I was only trying to help tho poor people, and heard all the news, you see." "Yes, I see, you wero taking sunlight into the poor tenants' homes, as you brought it into ours. Well, they need it. I see so much filth, so much sorrow and discontent that it is terrible. I can find no means of relief. How can you expect purity and peace whore men must live with hogs and cowa? Our tenants live with their animals that they may save them to pay the rent. How I hate tho word!" I said, leaning on the mantel and looking at Stella as she stood idly turning the leaves of an old album that lay on the table. "I, too, have seen the misery and want that this terrible rack rent has produced. It is like some loathsome monster, that with fetid breath pollutes all within its reach," she said, with earnest indignation, "Dear friend," I said, going to her and taking her hand within my own, "You have been more than a friend to we. You have inspired my heart With sympathy foi man. Now I come to you, asking your help in finding relief for a^ this woe. | ne<& your aid an,4— » my mqtker pponjg the dqor, saying: "My son, Annie Wren is at the door asking for you." 1 looked tit Stella for a moment. Could 1 leave her with the words of love unspoken? t was just forming such words when mjr mother called me. Stella sdemed conscious of my thoughts, and the tell-tale blush that mantled hei cheeks and brow gave me hope that my suit wottlcl not be in vain. For one instaftt 1 wns Undecided. But then I turned and left the room. 1 found Annie at the tlooi | on her pet pony. 1 offered to help her cUs- j mount, but she said: I "No, Loyd, I cannot stop. Papa sent j this note to you and asked me to bring an answer." | I opened it and read the message, and thought the best way to answer it was to see Sir Wren myself, I ordered my horse 1 , and without enter- Ing the liouse, rode away with Annie. As we rode out over the wild moor that lay between the two estates, we met a girl with a donkey cart loaded with peat which she bad gathered and was now taking to the village to sell. She was a decent looking girl but very poorly clad, barefooted, and had on only a thin cotton gown with a bit of an old shawl over her head and shoulders. "I am sorry for such girls. She must be cold this frosty morning," said Annie, with a shiver. "They earn something in that way to help pay the rent," I said. "Oh, that everlasting rent!" said Annie. "If I were a man no one should ever pay me rent." "What would you do, you little spice- box?" I asked, amused at her show of temper. "I wonld do as papa does. He hires men to work for him, and gives them good warm houses to live in." "I thought your father had rent, the same as others," I said. I. never paid any attention to the way Sir Wren conducted his estate. "You ask him and see," she said, as wo rode up to the door. Sir Wren was m the library enjoying the morning paper and a warm comfortable fire, as Annie ushered me into tho room. "So, so," he said, as ho saw mo. "You bring your owu answer. Well, that ia business like." "Yes, Sir Wren," I said, taking the chair he pointed out near the fire. "So far ns I know I am at your service." "I have some important business in London. It needs careful attention, though not immediately. And as this rheumatic foot disables me, I thought you could do it for me and take a pleasure trip atthe same time. The business is easily managed, will prepare the documents and you can deliver them according to directions. I will give you a letter of introduction to the Duke of Melvorne, who will show you kindness for old times' snke; as his fathei and I were very warm friends until his death two years ago. Since then I have never be<sn to Blue Ridge, as his home is called." "Then I am to follow directions and have the pleasure free," I said, laughing at his plan. "I hope it may be a pleasure to you. 3 am always glad to aid my friends in thai direction. How is your mother and the brown thrush at Waverland? "My mother is very well. Better, she says, than for years. And Miss Everett is as busy as ever scattering sunshine . ant' gladness wherever she goes. Even. the poor tenants enjoy some of her gladness We wero just planning some way by which wo could make them more comfort able, when Annie came." "Did you hit on any plan?" "We did not. But Annie gave me a him of the manner you manage your estate that may help mo. I would like to lean your method." "There is not much to tell. I hire men women and children by the year to work for me." "Why, what are you doing now to earn their wages?" "Come and see," said Sir Wren, as he took his hat and cane and started for tho door. We passed into a large yard sur rounded by out-building3. We enteret one and fotmd large quantities of vegeta bles with women and children sorting them into heaps. "You see now," he said, pointing round the room, "I have them sorted in this way to make different grades for market." "I understand now. Tho object gainec by this work is a higher price for produce. 1 "Just so, just so," he said, patting mi on the shoulder. "I save the small one and sell them to my help at a lower price while the large fine ones bring a highe price in the market." We entered another building whicl proved to be a workshop. Old rakes wa gons, plows and all kinds of farming im plemeiits were being repaired by the men "No idlers here," he said as we walke< through. There were no idlers, but wha seemed, strange was that some were sing ing and some whistling, which told of con teutmeiit. "That is a saving in two ways," said Si Wreu, as we left the building. "Thing are under shelter, and then, when they ar needed in tho busy season, we will no have to lose valuable time during goo weather for them to be repaired." "I see tho philosophy of that," I said, a we entered tho blacksmith shop. Here on man was shoeing a horse, another fixing buggy spring, and all wero usefully em ployed. "This is a sample of the way about fou hundred people are employed iu the col winter weather. In summer my land i well cultivated and made to produce larg returns," he said, as we left the sho where all were busy. "Do they earn their wages?" I asked, "Yes, and a good per cent of profit." "Where do they live?" "Follow me and see," he said. W walked round to one side of the estat where a street was laid out, aud lots o about one-half acre with a neat littl frame house, a pig pen and a, cow stabl on each, "Here," ho said "is where my people live I give this house and lot free of charge "1 think Annie was right," 1 said, as we entered the Imme. "This plan Is better for the p*ojil? than tlte bid rent system." "1 eouLl never submit to that," said Sir Wren, with decision. "It Is too galling for the tenant and too tempting for the landlord who has nothing to do but grind out of the tenant farmers all he can, white the tenant must live on the p-.wMt food and in the meanest hovels, that the rent iiv.vv ba u:U<l when due, to save eviction." "1 know that is true," I said; "I have been over my estate and find want and misery at nearly every door. Why in some hovels with neither floor nor windows, 1 hnve found five or six persons, a cow and the pigs nil crowded together; they say icy must shelter the cow so she will give toru milk; and the pigs will die if not lettered from tho cold. I turn from such laces, sick at heart. What can bo done? do not wonder that men are crying out a-ainslsw-ii dejjviuiaUon. 1 am willing assist Parnell or any one else who can take a chan;;o for the batter." "I believe PnrneU has done more for the rish people than any other mauln the ist century." "In what way?" "He has taught the people to think. His ;ear, calm manner, aud firm command of imself has given him power to command thers. Even his enemies admire him. lis English lineage and education has iven him a prestige that will assist him i the coining struggle. Then his linpris- nment has made him a hero for tho Irish eople." "Yes, Sir Wren," I said, "that is true, remember the influence it had on my wn mind. Then the Irish are quick to lake a hero of. any one who has sulTereil or their cause. They huvo keenly sensi- Ive hearts ready to respond to the call for ympathy, while the English are cooler ud calculate the results that may bo delved from it." "You have read tho English heart to ome purpose. Wo are not so imaginative lor so quick to feel the power of old asso- iations as the Irish. "That brings to mind something I saw tot very long a-^o. An Amevi",'in and my-| elf were walking past an old tenant houso when we saw a little child crying )y the open door. She was beautiful, but dressed with filthy rags. My friend stop- )cd and said: " 'What is the matter, little otic?' " 'Father is dead,' sho rnplioil, looking ip, aina/ed that any one should speak to her. We entered tho wretched, hovel, vhere tha peat lire, burning on n stone in .lie corner, wast filling th? room so full of moke that we could hardly discern any object in the room. We saw n man lying n one comer on a heap of old leaves, dead I A woman sat beside him holding his hand and Bobbing piteonsly. There were two or ;hrco children in the room, but all were so agged. After talking with the poor woman for awhile my friend t;il<l her that he would like to take Katy, tin? child we saw at the door, for his own. Ho said ho would ;ive her twenty pounds and something tc dress the child with beside, if she would Jet him have her to adopt into hia own Eumlly as a daughter. " 'But,' said the poor woman with a sob. 'I cannot let her go among strangers!" " 'You may choose a companion to go with her, and I will provide for her also, 1 said niy friend. "After a time the woman consented and chose a younj? sister of her own to go with the child us its companion and nurse. friend paiil trio woman twenty pounds u:ul au additional five pounds to furnish decent clothing for the children. It was that wo should come in the morning for them, as my friend was just ready to return to America. In tho ni'jrniiipc we went with tho car riags to take the children to the railroad station. But, although tho children wero dressed h) tho new {airments the money had boirriit', the poor mother could nob part witli'li*.".* darling. She gave my friend back his nvyaty pounds and what.was left of tlis flv? n'i -yf priyin;; for the clothes, and vrns thorn off as fast as she could when we left the room. When we reached tho carriage uiy friend turned buck and handed the poor woman the money she hud paid him, saying: " 'Take it, and may it do you some good.' "The poor woman could not speak, but tears ran down her cheeks like rain. My friend wns silent for a time, then lie said—• " 1 cannot blame the poor woman; but FARM, HOME AND CAMS. THE XEW YEAR'S WELCOME. MAtlT D. ItlllNB. Ring, bells, ringl for the klnp ie hero; Rim? bells, ring! for Hie glad New Year. He mounts his throne with n smlltnR face, Ills eceptnr lifts majestic grace. Ring for the joy his nflvent. brings; Rlnafor the happy song he sings; Hlnjj for the promises tweet ami trno With which we gladden our hearts anew. The new-born year Is a happy fpllow: Ills voice I* cwppt, nnrt low, and mellow; Wllh the Christmas holly his liO'itl Is crowned, Wlili tho Christmas blessings we'll wrap him round. Then ring, bell?, ring! for the joyons day— The past is silent, the present Is cay! Ring out your merriest, cheer after cheer. To welcome thej>irlh of the Happy New Year. "NT5VEH A HOSE,'' ETC. NEW roRU UKItALD. Qnoth Slow to Swift, "I cannot too How you have risen so. When thorny paths discourage me The higher up you go!" Quote Swift, with Inspiration rife, Byli Tli Why, how tlo you suppose! heeding not the thorns of lite — "tiat, sir, is howl rosol" JTAUM NOTES. one tablespoonful each of butter and lard, one egg. AH* with awe?t milk, and beat twenty minutes and bake. rUMPKIKS AND SQUASHES LADES. FOR IIARMA Take pumpkins or squashes, open and peel them, and remove the seeds and all other parts which are of no use in the sub« sequent preparation of marmalade. The purified flesh of (he fruit thus obtained is then cut up into small cubes, and placed in a vessel with a sufficient quantity of water to cover tlie_ fruit. To this water add a small qfnntity of borax, about one ounce to five pounds of the purified fruit, and then boat the vessel till the water boils, By the action of the borax the peculiar, unpleasant taste of the pumpkin or squash is extracted, and after the bo\ling has been continued for some time—saj ten minuted —separate the pulp from the liquid, which can bo doneiby pouring the contents of the vessel upon a suitable filter. The pulp ob- taiue;! in this manner is free from the pe- culinr, unpleasant taste of a pumpkin of squash, while the same retains all its nutritious qualities, so that it can be used with great advantage for the preparation of marmalades of various kinds. Throw some manure around the small iruit trees. A cow cannot make sound milk out of unsound material. IT will pay better to make a shed of posts and poles using straw or fodder for i roof, than to allow the fodder to stand out to the weather. Strawberries Strawberries by the acre I have raised in the same manner as corn. _ Verjr rich, the land was marked and cultivated both ways, allowing the runners to follow their own sweet will. A little hoeing, with the cultivation, keep down weeds. I don't oay this is the best plan, but many a farmer west thinks he can't fuss to raise strawberries might grow them in a part of his corn field. How to Test the Quality of Wool. One method of judging the quality of wool is to take a lock from the sheep's back and place it upon an inch rule; if you can count from thirty to thirty-three of the spirals or folds in the space of an inch it equals in quality the finest Saxony wool grown. Of course, as the number of spirals to the inch diminishes, the quality of the woo! becomes relatively inferior. Cotswold wool, and some other inferior wools, do not measure more than nine to the inch. may the curse of heaven follow those who cause this terrible suffering! 1 "I could not help saying amen, though I am counted as one of the n timber. The mother's love was stronger than the love of money." To be continued. any man with a, family while he works fo 1110," "I see eaoh one has a pig pea and a cow stable." "Yes, I give the men a cow and a pig 11 they liiMjby the year." "ThesJr cottages would rent for five or six pounds a year." "I know they would. But I would rather have happy, contented ineu ivncl women than the reut. Then, too, I believe I receive more than the rent in extra work." "How neat and clean it all looks," J remarked with warm approval. I could not help contrasting this with the teuaut village on my own estate. ''I toll them," said Sir Wren, "that cleanliness atUls to their comfort), I also try to inspire them with ft desire to kesp their pluses neat. I believe tenants i« geiioral would keep their .places more tidy, hwt they fear their rent will be raj^d, ij make W ONE OF JSAVOLEON'S SOI/DIEBS. Romantic Incident in the Ufa of One of the Emperor's Old Soldiers. The Truppist Monastery, situated in Kentucky, is the home of those monks upon whom the injunction of perpetual silence is placed. The stories that silt through to the outside world, with more or less romantic detail, concerning the individual monks of La Trappe, are many. There is one told of. a brother at Oeth- semane, which is old, but full of dramatic suggestion. He was a soldier of Napoleon, so it was said, and after the emperor's first abdication took the cowl of the "Brown Brothers," and ultimately caine to Gethseuiane. Forty years he lived in silence, hearing nothing* of the world's history, but with one item of curiosity left unquenched. When he came to die and was lifted from his hard couch and laid upon the harder floor, strewn with straw, when all followers of the order must meet extremes, the abbot, as is customary, told him he was at liberty to ask any question he desired. "What became of the emperor'?" the old man asked promptly, and then for the first time learned Napoleon's fate, long years after that restless clay had become dust. WILL HE CONQUEU LOCKJAW! foley Still Maintains His Itattle Agulnst the Oread Disease. Philadelphia Times. John Foley, 20 years old, o! 447 North Ninth street, Philadelphia, who has been in St. Mary'a Hospital for weeka suffering from lockjaw, which was caused by running a rusty nail into his foot, still lingers between life and death at the hospital. The spasms and rigor of the disease have left him, but its violence has deprived him of vitality, and he seems incapable ot gaining strength and is terribly eraaei tited. Though he partakes of nourish ment and talks to his attendants and the doctors at certain intervals, he is nearly always in a 'flinatoae condition. Foley'a case is a remarkable one on account of the long duratipn of the disease, which unusually kills it-) victim in a few days, and the wonderful battle which be iu>8 made aguintt it, Pr. Dougherty, who has charge case, says} tha^ W ittU hp bQPf J$ $ recovery. Care of Cows. Tlwre is much nonsense in the notion that cows are better turned out in the barnyard in the coldest weather merely for exercise. Unless someone follows her around and pokes her up, she will not exercise, but stand in some corner and shiver until the stable is opened for her to go into shelter ngain. Every such experience of exposure diminishes her milk yield, i£ she is giving milk. The muscles of a horse's legs are much more fully developed than those of a cow, unless the latter has been bread to jump fences. The more quiet a cow can be kept, the more and better milk she will give for the same aoiount of feed. Simple Grape System. A simple system of training and pruning the grape—the why and wheerfore is shown in "Fuller's Grnpo Culturist" of I nearly thirty years ago, but new to many ;hese days—is a favorite in Massachusetts. It is well known that the canes which grow one year are the bearing-canes of the next. The system is started by growing two canes, pinching out all others. The trellis has but two bars. The canes are trained in opposite directions, and tied to the top bar of the trellis the first season, bottom bar being unused. After the leaves fall these canes 'are cut back one- fourth, loosened from the trellis and tied to the lower bar. Two more canes are allowed to grow the next spring, which are tied to the upper bar. While they are growing the lower canes are bearing fruit. When it has been picked in the fall the canes which bore it are cut off, and the young canes which have been tied to the upper bar are loosened and tied to the lower one. This method can be pursued for almost any length of time, and the only canes left during tho winter are near the ground and easily covered with snow.—Experience. A beautiful woman pleases the eye; a good woman pleases the heart, tho first is a jewel, the second a treasure. It is the habitual thought, that frames itself into our life. It effects us even more than our intimate social relations do. Our confidential friends have not so much to do in shaping our lives, as thoughts have which we harbor. Firmness With Love. It is difficult to say which is the greater defect in a parent—strictness and firmness in his family, without feeling and affection, or feeling and affection without strictness and firmness. Under tho 'one bad system the children are apt to become sieves or hypocrites; under the other tyrants or rebels. But true love is always firm* and true firmness is always love. In thinking of "the dignity of labor," it is well to bare in mind that the dignity is less in labor than in the laborer; that a laborer who shows himself _to be a man who has those qualities within him which demand respect, dignifies his labor. "The eccentricities of geuius" is an expression thut is often heard. A genius is one who is able to elevate even the trival things he does; to invest his slightest acts with that extraordinary something that " Not only peace," wlien a man has friends and money, can he dignify his labor by tue strength of his character j but when reverses come he may "live down" the resuts of mistakes \>y the_ very _mo- mentura in the right direction gained when he was prosperous. Many a good man has risen from the ashes of disaster, and has received encouragement from those who had confidence in Him, and has achieved a new success because he had dignified his labor, .and others could see he was worthy of assistance. Food for Cuttle. Straw, corn fodder utidrojgh hay are known as course foods because much of, such foods contain, either _an excess of woody fibre and little nutrition in proportion to bulk, or are not as readily eattn by stock us goed hay or food of a better quality. For this reason there is a large waate of valuable feeding material in the United States that in Wit be saved and used if propel attention is given to the preparo- ion of foods and the combining of the different materials in a manner by which a^be utilized, and a corresponding stan in meat or milk thereby secured. Millions of slacks of straw, and a still larger number of ''shocks" of corn fodder rot in the fields or arc damaged in a manner to render the food valueless, though all of such could bo made to perform service. Animals do not eat bulky food for its nutrition, but sometimes" as a complete change from the sameness of diet, and because the bulky food distends the stomach and aids digestion. A variety of food of any kind, will be preferred to one or two articles regularly given. Cattlo and sheep that are daily allowed hay and grain, if permitted to have access to wheat straw, or to cornstalks, will eat quite a quantity of such materials, and if the straw or corn fodder is cut up, and ground grain added, even horaes have been known to thrive well on Mich dr-rim? the winter. Where a liberal sudQ l (, i -'f grain is allowed there is no risk iilcumH^! by feeding the coarse foods to any class*"" of stock, and it is an advantage to do so in order to feed less hay when the season has not been favorable to grass and bay making. Each animal on the farm is kept for a certain purpose, and the food supplied should be given with a view of deriving a product rather than to feed simply to supply all animals alike. If the cows are to be kept in full flow they should be kept on thf best of food, with a smaller allowance of coarse provender; bit for dry cows, oxen, sheep, or animals that require only food for the support of their, bodies the coarse foods should compose a large portion of the ration. Animals that are used for breeding purposes need not be very fat, and with good shelter and a fair allowance of ^rain and straw and fodder may be used with the hay. It is not here suggested that hay is discarded, nor are straw and fodder proposed as regular foods, but to urge that it is economical and >rofitable to put such foods to better use ,han is usual on farms, and to aim to derive a profib from that which is sometimes wasted. prevades his own individuality, in "times of peace." when a is one of the nicest relishes for tea or lunch or for sandwiches. Cut $ good sjzed piece from the thickest portion pE «. boiled h.4i», trim o3 tba f a,t, and gr^te the OAUE OF THE FEET. Much May be Added to Gnln Comfort by Frequent Bathing. Household Companion. Those who are annoyed by excessive perspiration of the feet may add much to tneir comfort by bathing the feet once, if possible, twice, every day—in warm water containing a little ammonia. Bay rum and diluted alcohol are likewise beneficial. If the feet are very tender, a small piece of alum dissolved in the water should be used. Chalk and starch made into a powder, are recommended for*rubbing feeb that blister easily. Sometimes an offensive odor aseompan- ies the perspiration. When such cases, are chronic, some disinfectant must be used as well as. attention paid to the diet. A harmless disinfectant is boracio acid or permanganate of potash. If the acid is used, dissolve one ounce in a quart of water.} Of the potash, use twenty grains to one }unce of water. The solutions may then be used by dipping the hose, which should be of cotten, into the liquid aad drying ;hem before wealing. Another way is to wear cork insoles ihathuve been dipped in either solution, riio articles of diet to be avoided are onions, cheese and. fish. Such treatment, with frequent bathing of the feet, is res- ommended for simple cases of this disorder. Oxide of zinc, beginning with a very weak solution and increasing the quantity uaed, if necessary, is recommend* 4 as a sura cure. GROWTH OF THE ASIATIC POPIT- I.ATION. H»pld Increase of the Inhabitants of China, Japan and Iixlin, This is written from one of our inland stations; one of a group of a dozen village? right rpund about, Tha one thing thai always strikes me in a Chinese town or village is the number of small children ;hat are running loose all around. One ihingis certain, the population o! thi? ilready overgrown empire is certain to seep up, More than that, it is growing within the past twenty-five years with in* creased rapidity. Oae estimate pats it at a yearly advance of 4.030,000. We dwell on the growth of our own prruUUon it home, but China is advancing nearly three times as fast, Forty millions in ten years is enough to start and stock a nation. Japan, too, is growing rapidly ir» hers. A few years azo the people ware es< tiinated at thirty-seven or thirty-eigW millions. Now the government puw thaffl at forty millions. In4Uv, too, shqw4 ,r$< mark^blo results. The cea-acn ja there with praat c$ra bythj emment. 'i'ue 1*4 wa-W . ,. .,„,,„ „„.. 1831. Since tte pr«wop one t^a algnf from 1837 to 1873 in (to* diJ im* WWSM ces, tha g4i« hyi toan 15,91'),8H- &, ^J these c*i«* I orea*e aid pi»pul#Um U b/ aiiotto; 1 "- 1 - 1

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