The Algona Upper Des Moines from Algona, Iowa on June 8, 1892 · Page 3
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The Algona Upper Des Moines from Algona, Iowa · Page 3

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Wednesday, June 8, 1892
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see, A STORt OFJJASTE iflorcnco I have been delighted with you t lit " her aunt suddenly informed her. «.«Iv another girl In the world could 5 * parried herself so well through what «Vt have been a very trying ordeal. Ton 10 \tlet all, his lordship came to bring me """' case from Margaret. It was kind but I cannot help thinking also powerful attraction must have /ish to oblige Lady Meddowes ^hf'be'a sufficient excuse, aunt Margat S -but I must confess that I think Lord VRt-non lacked good tnsto in almost forcing *i nii-lf into a house where he could scarce- f] even with his amount of vanity, have ! infilled he would be welcome. However, «i< as well perhaps he should know be- nnfl n rtonbt bow unimportant a person he yoiHi ^j ''.nVeU, vou sec, my dear—I did not tell ..„,. before—we certainly became very intimate at J>'ictf. He chanced to be there at iiiB s'tine time and in our sot; so that really, without botruylng too undisguised annoy- cr In meeting him, we could not well ox:Li c liim. I did not tell you tills in my Mtcrs, simply because I thouglit it might worry you or give you pain—that was my ""iib'li'''that bo had power to give me In!" W as Florence';) bitter (liottght— '• easily the cure might lie in my owu THE UPPER DBS M01NES. ALGONA, IOWA, WEDNESDAY, JUNE 8^1892. FARM AND notice: and .she ilid n»( ivi-.ii that She Rhould know im.v uf ln-r leni-r to Philip. With beating heart and light step Florence laid the letter on t.n; liail table, Where all Idlers for the }•»»•! had to be pUced. Her ladyship was supposed to be in the cnjbyment of her afternoon sies-ta: but in reality her brain was planning n splendid trousseau at the least possible cost, and a brilliant wedding—an arrangement' which she thought her kindness merited, and which might give her some months' sojourn yonrly in Lady Him;ourt Vernon's house. These thoughts kept her wakeful. She heard Florence's door open, and the rust- llngsilk and the light step pass her boudoir. She waited for her niece's entrance, but she did not come: and then she listened more eagerly, only to bear Florence de- scclid still lower—a proceeding so unusua 1 . that it boded mystery at least. The step passed ngain, and then sho heard her niece's door shut. Lady Haven was always velvet-shod herself, while the carpets were velvet-piled; and gathering her rustling train in her hand, her ladyship went noiselessly down the stairs, and found Florence's letter, addressed, as she had feared, to her obnoxious cousin, Philip Oarrington, lying underneath one of her own epistles. She reflected for a moment, and then remounted the stairs, but returned a few minutes later with a letter in her hand, also addressed to Philip Uiiri'ington—life writing similar to Florence's bold scrawl—containing no love-words, but only a wine importer's aching heart and a white set face. She know now that the past year was a dream, from which she had just awakened: but, the awakening was intolerable pain. While she thought it in her power to see Philip again, and that he woliUl grasp her hand hut too eagerly did she choose to extend it, .she could bear his absence and silence; but now the gulf between them seemed impassable. and weeks passed, and Florence was fairly launched upon the waters of her old past life. The high-born circle of other days in which nhe had so revelled was re- B-it'H'tvd aroii!:-.! her. 'i.'he London season wiiMKlvai)flii;;.'-aiiidly,and in loss than another month tue huu.-io in C'I urges at. would be prepared for tliu Countess and Miss Vortliington's reception. Liuly Haven began to Iccl amply repaid for all I" 1 ' 1 an.xiet.v in thu companionship of her beautiful niece, to whom she know she w -i< huK-iJted fur more than half of the invitations she received. And once again Lord Harcourt Vermin was Miss Worth- urton's shadow. 1 i' her pleasures wearied hel-, if her heart ached painfully at times, she forced the weariness of the one .and thu pain of the ot.ier from her, at least until in the solitude of her own room, in her wnivi'l'n. nu.ii;-. Uii-y would not be repressed' nut o-'iiy *lth increased power toit- iiii'aU-U her. i- ; .ie wa* always haunted by afauc wiiicii obliterated all others—by a voice whK-ii was ever ringing in her cars; butslie iriod unceasingly lo put them both from her. At times sue revelled in the admiration uh« received, in the grandeur by which .she was .surrounded. They seemed life and breath to he: 1 , even though the lifo lacked reality and -. nth, and the breath freedom. Florence wrote or:en to Maud Carrlng- ton; but her letlcy; were not very punctually answered. Her life could not be Hand's life; and such subjects as they had In common seemed rapidly to diminish— She knew too, licyoml a doubt, why Philip's name was always omitted. Once only had he aroused his U-ter's suspicions; and she respected his slightest wish too deeply to question it. Once, and once only, had ho asked Maud to IICMM- mention his name in her letters to Florence; and the reason he gave was thai he liad written a few lines to her and nover received an answer. That his letter could lie withhold seemed impossible to him. He believed only that she had chosen to ignore him, sis he had felt too sure she would.' The-Countess of Haven's politeness wsxs worthy of one. bearing her noble title. In her niece's absence one day she penned, in her most fascinating style °n golden cor- oncted paper, a i'slter to Mrs. Harrington. To that lady's wonderment, there was very little in it'beyond inexpressible gratitude for the care she had bestowed upon her dear niece, and the splendid health into which she had nursed her; also her lady- shin's hope that they might soon meet in London, and the intelligence that Florence would certainly have sent her love, but that she had gone out riding with Lord Harcourt Vcrnon. This last piece of information was quite as startling as Lady lluvcn intended it should bo. Her letter arrived at Kulham whilst the family were at their evening meal, and was read aloud. "A marvellous piece of politeness on Lady Raven's part, t wonder how much sincerity it contains," Maud Carrington Billd. "We should have lilted one from Florence much belter," Ethel remarked— "What a shame It is that she came to us for six months, and went away just as wo all got to like her, and think she was going to stay forever! 1 don't suppose we shall ever see her again !" "That is a cheerful idea,- Ethel," her fa- her told her: lint, 1 think better ot Flor- ther told her; but 1 think better cnce. She writes often; and you will sec that directly after they are in town she will be In hero." "You should not bestow your affections on people so far aliovo you," Maud declared. "Florence's life now, I think, will be far apart from ours." "Always wise, Maud," Philip said, •peaking for the llrsl time. lie had listened carefully to what the letter contained, and, had they noticed him more intonliy, they would have scon how his face had paled, and how one hand hud tightened on the other in a grasp of Iron, trying to force back his passion; for he believed now, what, though in doubt, he bad icorued to entertain before—thatFlor- «nce had Hod to him—that her engagement had remained unbroken all the time she was'wlth thorn. He thought she had lured him on to gratify her vanity or satisfy her caprice. list placed in a plain envelope. The ruse was still incomplete. The real letter was taken, and Lntly Raven soon possessed herself of the contents, the harmlessncss of which rather relieved her fears; but it, was better'suppressed, she thought. Another letter was written, her bell was ninj.', and the footman summoned; and he was told to take it with the other in the hall, without delay to the post—she wished them dispatched by the evening mail. Florence who was on the qul vivo, listened too, and was relieved to hear the "other letter" in the hall referred to. Hers was safe then and gone. In a few days at farthest a crumb to satisfy her hunger must reach her. She would know if her cousin considered the si-si'ty faith between tBem broken—If he held her still in respect or contempt. Nevertheless her conscience told her thai Philip might well be angered at the levity of her letter after their last parting; but if his anger found vent in words, at least they must give'her relief. For his pain she eared little. The clays passed wearily, even though splendid toilets were donned three times each day, and Miss Worthingon's beauty was a constant theme, and her fascinations acknowledged afresh after her year's seclusion. Once again Lord Harcourt Vcrnon was unremilling in his devotion; and his intentions were patent to the world, and to Miss "YVoiihington herself perfectly intelligible. A week passed, during which no letter had arrived from Philip Harrington merely a few lines from Maud, accepting Florence's excuse that overwhelming engagements had prevented her from driving to Fulliam. At last suspense became unbearable, and, prompted by her good or evil fairy, she wrote promising to see them atFulhiim three days later, at the time she knew they would all be at home. The test wa.s a painful one, but she thought It ordinarily might be conclusive. Lady Ravr-n could raise no objection— her niece had been wonderfully moderate in her desire to revisit her cousins; her only suggestion now was that they might drive thither together. kndy Haven would remain in the carriage or enter the house as Florence liked, lint the latter little cared; her only aim was to see Philip, to read what bis eyes told her, to relieve the intolerable craving of her heart, which she had repressed so long that it now gained complete ascendency over her. She was sure to see him, she- told herself; he would be ]e.-> able to resist the temptation of another meeting than she herself. But she little knew him. Philip, having sought and pleaded for her love, bail accepted his rejection; this she again had vaguely withdrawn, and then bound him to silence and banished him, till it might please her sudden caprice to recall him. It was humiliation enough for any man, and Philip Harrington was no humble lover. Her letter too was an insult, if she regarded it in the right light. The letter of ordinary cold friendship to the man she had vaguely promised to marry, whom sin- had hound to silence, and whom she yet informed she would love to the last day of her life, could by reasonable people be looked on in no other light. Jle knew >!ie was no ftiint-liciirtcd fright, ened girl, powerless to cont rol her own will or assert her own freedom. He knew too well that, in-1. as she might, she was utter- ClIAI'TKlI XtV. The London season was passing quickly, with its endless monotony of dressing, music, and dancing, late hours in hot rooms, and cool fresh mornings wasted in bed or over languid toilets. A year and a day—the anniversary ot her father's death—passed, and then the anniversary of Florence's broken engagement. A few more weeks went by; and once again Miss Worthington's brilliant prospects were being commented upon and envied. Her pride had won its highest award, or fallen lamentably. She sometimes asked herself which, and the answer always came with the same vague weariness the same sickening doubt. Lady Jltivcu was radiant. Sir Edward, the new Baronet, with rare munificence, had placed at Miss Worthington's disposal a check for iivc hundred pounds, and bad sent a scrupulously polite letter to Florence, notifying her that the sum represented the valuation of certain articles of property, be bad since learned had once belonged to herself. Could anything be so opportune, so delicately thoughtful? Lady Haven thought, and her interest in her beautiful niece was increased. Florence was striving bravely to appreciate the position she hud bought at so dear a price. She was tasting the delights of gratified ambition, or ambition nearly gratified. Once again she was enjoying a tete-a-tete with Lord Harcourt Vcrnon; and his lordship seemed unusually moved. There was actually a Hush on his face, marring its aristocratic pallor. Miss Worth- inglon, on the contrary, sat perfectly calm and self-possessed—her face perhaps a shade paler, but not a whit softened. His lordship stood at some distance from tier, his elbow resting on a velvet-draped man. tie-shelf, his eyes regarding earnestly the purchase he was once more contemplating, and which seemed to him'enhanced by the slight difliculty in obtaining it. "You will let me have you decision today, Florence? You promised it to me.— A lid now there can be no reason for delay, I think," he said; but he spoke a little nervously. His lordship was a connoisseur in beauty; and he had decided that Miss AVorth. Ington, in all respects, was as nearly fault. less as a mortal could be, that her surroundings were now satisfactory, and sufficiently respectable to justify his choice. As'to liar heart, temper, and intellect he knew little and eared less. Her accomplishments were evident and suHieicnt. ''There need be no delay in my decision, Lord Hal-court, if that is what you mean," Miss Worthington said coldly, and with great deliberation. "You do me, I suppose, great honor, for which I must try to be grateful; but the decision rests more with yourself than with me. You ask me to be your wife, and I can only repeat what passed between us the other day. I tell you that I will be if you care to take me when I also tell you that 1 have not one spark of love or affection—whichever you may please to call it—for you; that your presence has no power to stir one single emotion in my heart, and 1 doubt if it ever will. Esteem, respect, in our station, of course must be superfluous," she went on, in low, well modulated tones, every word cold and cruelly'distinct. ''-'I care for the position you oiler me—or suppose I do," she added sadly. "It is of course humiliating to confess' this to you, but it is the truth. It is my own birthright, which I have no nearly lost. But for yourself I care nothing, 'if yon are willing to take me for your wife after hearing this—should there be wrong in our union—you alone will be to blame. It is your position alone which tempts me." For the. first time her voice trembled, her voice drooped, and the passing softness gave her additional attraction in his lord- not too proud to slid-.v iii-r ki.-cn interest In all the millinery detail* and the costly jewels. On Florence herself their splendors bad already begun to pall, and the old dull pain came back into her heart. She tried to find relief in incesssanl amusement, and partially succeeded. She also tried bravely to Struggle against the Inalhing she felt when the daily hour for Lord Vermin's visit arrived, the shuddering horror when he touched her band, and when be sometimes, though rarely, kissed her forehead. She did not succeed so well in this, in her former short engagement she had been heart-whole: and then' his lordship's presence had seemed endurable to her, possibly through indifference. J?ow sho kiiew she was heart-broken for love for another man, and thai her lovo grew stronger, more intense, as (he days which put him farther from her passed quickly by. It wanted but three weeks to Miss Worthlngton's wedding-day; and town was nearly cmply—which Lady Haven and Lady Meddowes rather bemoaned; but (hero would be spectator.? enough left to witness the wedding—at least so thought Florence. Among other things not pleasant to learn, she had made the discovery that her future lord's temper was not. so equable as she had at first imagined. He could already bo mildly sarcastic, did she keep him a few moments in order to complete hoi 1 toilet. As their intimney increased, she found that he could sulk If she ventured to suggest any alteration in plans ho had previously arranged, or to wear a color or dress he'had condemned; and, whereas Miss Worthington had never liked yielding, she liked it even less now. "It is a hopeful prospect for the future, 1 she often thought, with sickening pain, as the days passed quickly on. JtTSTDKOP TOt'lf ItUCKKT. HllAl'TKl! XV. The snakier sunshine flooded Philt] Harringloii's chambers, and their ownei stood, with white quivering face, will trembling hands—in spite of all his effort! at self-control—reading for the liundredtl time a letter from Florence, and each linn 'tin? perusal stirred him more and made tin temptation seem impossible to resist. I was a letter full of passionate pleading fo forgiveness—not Unit the past might b forgotten or the future altered, but tha her faithlessness might be pardoned—a let ter tilled with sin agony of self-reproach of scarcely-veiled love, of extreme pain, the whole' a wild prayer to sec him once again, for the last time, to hear forgiveness from his lips—to bid him a final good-bye. The time and hour were arranged, and for once Lady llavon was outwitted. Acceptance or contemptuous refussil rested only with himself. The temptation was indeed sweet, let him strive as in- would against it, and it prevailed. His pride was being sorely humbled he knew; and he. despised himself for if, but he could not resist—love triumphed. TO BE CONTINUED. ODDITIES. Food for reflection—The dinner that you missed. How little and dried-up the cheese ap pears to the rat after he is caught in lb< trap! Mother (reprovingly to the little girl just ready to go for a walk): "Djlly, that hole waa not in your glove this morning.' 1 "Oh, ship,-nhoyl" rnng out tho cry; "Oh, give us water or we dlel'' A voice came o'er the water far. '•Just drop your bucket where Jon are." And then dipped and drank their fill Of water fresh from mead nndhtll; And then they knew they galled upon The broad month of the Amazon. O'er tossing was'es we sal! and cry, "Oh, give us water or we dlel" On high, rentless waves we roll Through arid climates for the soul; 'Nenth pitiless ekles we pant for breath Smlt with the thirst thntdragi to death, And fall, while faint for fountains far, Just drop our buckets where we are. Oh, ship nhoyl you're sailing on, The broad month of tho Amazon, Whose mighty current flows nud sln?8 Of mountain streams and Inland springs, Ot night-kissed morning's dewy balm, And evening zephyrs soft and calm, Of nature's penco In earth or star- Tins! drop your bucket where you ftro. Seek not for fresher fountains afar, Juet drop your bucket, where you are; And while the Bhlp right onward leaps Uplift It from exhausuess deeps; Parch not your life with dry despair, The stream of hope Hows everywhere. So, under every eky and star, Just drop your bucket where you are. —Yankee Blade. IT ARM NOTES. Gas Tar for liororg. M. C Baldwin in the Homestead says, that gas tar Applied around the roots of trees will keep the borers off for five years. The tar should be applied at the ground by digging away the earth, as it will kill the limbs and smooth barked trunks. Sheep vs. Cows. A pasture that will carry one cow will carry from eight to ten sheep. Knowing tbat it is for the farmer to determine whether the cow or the sheep will give the largest return. If it is a poor cow and you cannot get a better one, make way for thesbegp by all means. O11 Meal for Milch Gows. In feeding oil meal to milch cows one should begin gradually with one-half corn meal and increase until you reach two parts of thj former to one of the latter. Watch the results closely, and so determine the amount that may be fed with profit. The steam-cooked linseed meal is best. ISnrly Sweet Coin. The small and early varieties Jot sweet corn are always the most tender and sweet and beat for table use. For our own garden we have adopted the plan of planting one of. these (early Minnesota is our preference) at regular intervals throughout the spring and summer. By this means we have excellent corn all through the Dolly then? ' (promptly): "Where wars it ly beyond corn-ion; shadow of hope left. and he had not a In Ills heart be firm- see CHAPTUU XIII. Philip Oarrington were only for onco, to know if lie still loved her, to hoar only a few words from lips that had so long been dumb, Florence thought must bring her back some comfort scanty though it might bo; but for Philip Oar- rington to be dead to her, and yet living, was unendurable; and, as Lady Haven's wrriage, rolling down Oxford Street, 1'issed the yery bricks and mortar whore at that moni'&H Miss Worthingtoii's heart's treasure was perhaps enshrined, the old familiar street, tlio windows from which she had looked on that one happiest day in a" her life, brought back the past with sickening thoughts all too quickly j and the suspense, the deathly silence, were torturing. Florence would not compromise herself in any W11 y, yet slio would try to still her ucartauhu with a r;U-am of comfort. She would plead for a fine, written by himself, so that, he could not refuse it. Her resolvo was taken; but i-yissho could not bullU) weru watching her, an influence beyond »Pr power to defy nan-ounded her; for Lady Uaven kepi unceasing guard, and her vigllmiuo was rew.irded at lust. The fow "lies expressing litt.U- but sisterly interest —but veiling imw miu-h passion!—wore Written, and .sonic p;-mmtion wai taken although Miss Worthington ne\cr btoopuu 1 to suspicion. For many reiison* shu pro tvircd to keep all corrospomteinsp with the <>ttr>-!mr to ,Va> r.-.y ..a possible t'VQitt fcer ly believed that her old engagement to Lord llareiiurt Vernon had always remained unbroken, and that sho had only gratified her caprice by indulging in a passing fancy for himself. Or was he mistaken, and ilid *ho choose to wreck her happiness for caste, to live' in a splendid mansion, to ride in a coronated carriage? If it was so ills pride at least should equal hers. She. had blighted his happiness, and had robbed his life of much of its brightness. But, after all, he could bear it; he would never faint under such a burden.— lie would work with more unflagging en- orgy to woo forgetfulness. Miss Worthington bad perhaps scattered a few gray hairs amid his wavy brown ones; but It mattered little, lie tried to force himself to believe tbat time would heal his pain. The reception of Florence's letter at Fulliam had been very different from what she bad expected. Her aunt and cousins imagined that it had been written simply to prepare them for the probable arrival of Lady Uavon, so that her ladyship's nerves might not bo shocked by finding them in any confusion and their drawing-room not ready to receive her; and they laughed a little at the idea. They did not dream that it had been intended to give Philip notice of her coming, so that he would be certain to remain at home, it had a perfectly contrary effect to the one desired— Ho most carefully planned to avoid her. If the temptation again to see her was Croat, his powers of resistance, were still greater. His mother and Ethel wondered at his absence, but Maud guessed the rea- Yainlvdid Miss Worthington remain until the 'last moment possible in the old drawin"-room, where so many happy hours had been passed. The piano was open, just as in the old happy times when Philip had lingered near her vyhile she sang. I he pain of being once again amid all the tu- miliar objects, and yet now so far troin them seemed intolerable. Florence's doubts were soon dispersed by Maud telling her- she- thought pointcdly-that her brother ad declared his intention of not return, in"home until night. Miss Worthington knew Jier fate then; and Lady Buien'» fears were again set at rest, bhe began to tlink now that Florence might be allowed a molt uny amount of Intcrcouse with her cousii s uuwat.-h.ed, and that all her tevvl- bie fws mitotlwvo been groundlo«, VIM w<H-H'!n«rtcm drove ^oui« vyiM* a» ship's eyes. As the prixc receded from his grasp, so did it seem to gain a fresh value, "Your acceptance is not a very flattering one, Florence," he said with a nervous laugh; "but 1 can understand. You resent tiie past a little. I can well imagine that; and oven then, but for your pride and coldness, you might perhaps have hold me to my word." "As ii' I would, unwillingly!" she, interposed with flashing eyes. But be went.on not heeding the interruption. "You will forgive that in time, Florence; and, as my wife, your life must be a happy one. Kvc'ry wish of yours shall bo gratified; and the time will come when your feelings towards me will increase both in warmth and tenderness. Of that I am certain. Until then I am content. You have given yourself lo me once more—is it not so?" his lordship asked. And he walked up to her with extended hand. "Yes, Lord Ilarcourt, if you are content to gratify my ambition, with the full knowledge of my feelings towards yourself."— And sho placed her hand in that of her betrothed. He bent clown, for the second time within a few months, and solemnly kissed the forehead of his fair fiancee. And the courtship satistied him. Florence's pride and coldness even possessed a certain charm for him. Lord Harcourt wa.s determined that the wedding should not be delayed. Ho had bought experience, and fancied, perhaps, that his fair prize might onco again elude his grasp. It was now the end of summer; and he said the early autumn must lind them wandering in foreign climes— Why should there be delay? Florence had longed solely for a coronet, and the coronet was now waiting for its wearer. Miss Worthington had little time, for "Is your father in favor of patronizing home industry?" asked a visitor of Freddy. "I think he is, judging by the way he makes me work," replied Freddy. Irate Customer: "Lnok here, Einstein, when I bought this suit of you, you guaranteed satisfaction." Einstein: "Veil, vots de madder of you? I vos satisfied." Sign Painter: "Now Mis6Uk_Johnsirig, what does yer want on dis yer sign?" Missus Johnsing (ifter a moment of deep thought)—"I guess goin' out scrub- bin' done inhere, -will do." Street Car Conductor: "How old are you, my little girl?" Little Girl: "If the corporation doesn't object I prefer to pay full fare and to keep my own statistics.' 1 "Papa, the paper says 'the mariage took place at high noon. What is high noon?" "High noon, my son, is—um—is noon among the—er—among tbe higher classes." "I don't see how you must play havoc Mrs. Cobwigger: can mcvs so often. It with youi furniture," Mrs. Parvenu: "Of course it does, my dear; but just think how it adds to my collection of bric-a-brac!" SAW HIMSELF DIE. A Story Told at the [Meeting of Boston'* Spook Society. The following story is about Dr. Wilsey, who saw himself die out wtst, and come back to life again, says the Boston Record: The doctor told how be saw himself go out of his body, saw his body lying on the bed, with his wife and sister kneeling^ by his side an^ weeping. He thought it a great j->ke on them that they should *not know he was as much alive as ever. He laughed outright at the "joke," and was surprised that they did not hear him. He went out of the house, down the street, and then struck off into the country, thinking to himself, "This must be 'he road people take when they die." Ha hadn't gone far when a voice warnec happiness, happiness thrown voluntarily away. She bad barely time for rest, for the setting of tiie future Countess Vernon's gems liad to be decided upon, and all tho details of her trousseau from Paris. Five hundred pounds, however judiciously expended, are not inoxhaustiblo; and it rc- reiiuired some maiumivring to meet tho accessary demands. Miss Worthington rode, drove, talked, danced, and even .sang a few sentimental duets with her future lord. She succeeded well in biding from him so far her shudr during dislike to his companionship—a dislike shu bad scarcely felt in old times, because then there bad been no unhappy comparison always rising in her thoughts, Sho had paid dearly for her position and could not now turn back. Miss AVorthlugton had not kept the Oar- riiigton's in ignorance of her approaching marriage. Shame however had kept her from asking them to bo present at the wedding. The days sped on, and Lady Raven's small house seemed to be turned Into n re. pository for silk, satin, and lace. Even Lady Meddowes' coldness and dislike for her cousin Florence disappeared uuder the bride-eject's brjiiiaut future. She was of being free from his body was so d lightful and the landscape was BO inviting that he felt no desire to return. All the while, howtver, he seemed to himself to be attached to his physical body by a fine almost invisible th'reau, which kept drawing him back. He lost consciousness, an* when be revived he was again lying on hi bed with his family around him. The Teak for Shipbuilding. The teak, which has passed into proverb as the best material for shipbuilding, i superior to all other woods, from the fac that it contains an essential oil which pre vents spikes and nails driven into it frou rusting. This property is not posaessei bj any other wood in the world, and fur mshes an explanation of tbe fact tha ships built of teak are practically indestructible. Some have been known to las for 150 years, and when broken up their beams were as sound as when first put Iu the Pig Pen, One may judge of the character of the coming litter to a great extent by the ap • pearance and character of the dam, according to a recent writer. If she is over fat, sluggish and indisposed, the pigs will generally be small and puny, and .possess little vitality, and the chances are a large per cent, will lie in infancy. Sows that rear less thi n six pigs out of each litter on an average are unprofitable breeders, and should be consigned to the feeding pen. Training the Horse, One of the most important things in raining a horse is to teach it to stand at he woid of command. Adopt some single word to convey your order, and never vary t. Then compel the horse to obey it fully every time it is used. Do not use two different words to convey the same mean- .ng, nor attach different meanings to the same word if you expect the horse to earn and obey them accurately. Poultry for the WFwrket, la raising chickens or other poultry for market, remember that the large breeds weigh much more, and after they have passed the size sold as "broilers" or "roasters," or from one and a half to four pounds each, they will sell at better prices per pound. Waeu they can be raised very jarly and marketed at the small weights, there may be more profit in the small breeds, but there is not as much if they are allowed to attain full eiz\ There is not much difference in the amount of f aed required to make an eight-pound Brahma and a four-pound Leghorn, as tho smaller breed is more active, and does grow as rapidly. will drive away thfi fly that lays the eggs of the equashborer, which has in some ysars been the greatest pest the squash grower has to contend against. It w worth trying, and some of uie cheap tobaccos sold are enough to drive a dog out of a tan-yard. But at cigar manufactories refuse tobacco can be bought very cheaply. The insect appears near the middle of July, or a little later, and tho obj°ct of the tobacco is to drive it away before it deposits any eggs, and as it places them upon the stem at the surface .of the soil, it cannot do so without coming in oofl- tact with the tobacco. It also drives away the black or sticking squash bug and it has some fertilizing value. The application should bo macUi early enough to do its work effectually, and it wUl retain its strength for some weeks at least. Skill In Raising HOUR. Few branches of the stock business demand more care and skill than the raising of hogs, but to such as can apply these they are generally certain to return profit, as in any other kind of stock. It is a face well understood that a pig makes more meat in proportion to waste matter, and more also in proportion to the food consumed (when properly fed) than any other domestic animal. They also mature so early and are BO prolific that they commend themselves io farmers who have not much capital.with which to begin the stock business. This very fact, that a _start con be made with so small an expenditure, should be enough to induce all who go into the business to begin with good stock; but some who _are particular about the breeding of their cattle, ana even of sheep, seem to think that one hog is as good as another; but there is as much difference between the growth andjprofit from a high grade and a scrub pig as between a good and a poor steer. One groat drawback to S rofitable hog raising has been too great ependence upon corn for feeding. Provide a good clover pasture in summer, and supplement this in the fall with ground oats and middlings, with corn only to finish off. and good pork can be produced .at a good profit. THB HOUSBHOiiD. Diieeen, At the spring of an arcli In tho great north towor, High upon tho wall Is an angel's head, And carven beneath ft a Illy Dower, With delicate wings at the Bide outspread. They say that the sculptor wrought tho face. From tho shrouded face of hie promised bride; And when he had added tho last sad grace To'tho features, lie dropped his chisel and died. And the worshippers throng to tho shrines be low, And tho sight-seers come, with their curious eyes; But deep In tho shadow, where none may know Its beauty, the gem of his carving lies. But at early dawn of a midsummer's day, When the sun Is fur to the north, For the space of a fow short minutes there falls a ray Through an amber pane on the angel's face. It was wrought for the eye of God, and It seems That lie blesses the work of a dead man's hand W 1th the ray of tho golden light which streams On the lost that are found In the deathless land, —Rev. Alfred Church, in Oxford, England, Truth needs no color; beauty no pencil. —Shakespeare. A lifo that helps others is always widening and deepening itself. Convince the mosses that you love them, and you've pot them, "Happy is he that cDndemneth not himself in that thing which he alloweth." Experience, like silver, needs continual burnishing; like a growing tree, it needs to strike its roots deeper every day. No true and permanent fame can be founded, excspt in labors which promote the happiness of mankind. The world of ours, in spite of its graves and sorrows, is a goodly world in which to live. Nevertheless, the best thing about it is, that there is a way out of it to a better world. ^Physical Culture. It is a gratifying fac , that physical culture is Corning more and more to the front, and physical culture means in plain English, taking exercise sensibly — and thus preserving health. Piety and dyspepsia are no longer regarded as necessary .companions. — Central Baptise. A Sunbeam. Happiness is a sunbeam which may pass through a thousand bosoms without losing a particle of its origiir.il ray; nay, when it strikes on a kindred heart, like the converged light on a mirror, it reflects itself with double britihtoehs Happiness is not perfect till it is thcired. — Porter. Benefits o/ The primary purposes of dragg.vng corn and potato ground after planting and before the crop is np, is to kill small weeds that would otherwise be troublesome. But a secondary object ie to break ILe crust formed by rains, and by mixing it with soil near the surface, start tie fermentation that devulopes and mokes available fertility in the soil. In this way tho barrow is equal on moderately rich land to the addition of several loads of manure E er aare. The more frequently this it arrowed, the quicker both sod and manure begin to rot and furnish available food for the growing crops. Pop Corn, Pop corn is a good crop to raise when rightly rais.djand marketed, It should be white, and tha corn must, says a New York paper, be a year old, free from mold, or mice odors. If kept in mouse proof bins and brought into market in good order it brings two, and even four times the price of field corn, and the yield is nearer up to it than one would suppose, as it can be planted much nearer. It should be well fertilised, as the blade starts slow and it does best planted in drills and hand hoed, Tbe Ayrshire'and Guernsey. We would like to see the pendulum swing and stop in ihe right place for the benefit of both kinds of dairymen—the milk and cheese dairyman and the butter and cheese dairyman. The Ayrshire as now bred, with decent sispd teats; and the Guernsey as now bred, with not too much carcass, are worth the dairyman's study. IE there has been as much printer's ink used in booming these two breeds as on the Holateins and the Jerseys farmers would not have to ask BO many questions showing chat their superior merits are not yet as well understood as th» ough to be. lieu tt Croud 'JYuohur. In later years wisdom bus been gained. Eiperience has be< n our r.eac ; ier and light has been given un. Therefore we 8e« more clearly what should bii done. We new life from a different point, and if we soem to be urgent or younger people to b« more diligent, and to work for higher and greater ends, it is not because we are out of flympathy with them, but because we are nearer results and can take a more practical view.— Tne Workman. Beneficial Experience. One of the beet things that can happen to any man is to come into daily contact with other men who surpass him in scholarship, or in intellectual vigor, or in moral power, or in some other equally important particular. Thece examples of superiority are a constant reminder of his own defects and a constant stimulus to improvement. — Nashville Christian Advocate. She Was a Kealtady. True courtesy has been called tho ''beauty ot the heart." And it is not tte especial property of any class, but all can show it, from the cultured millionaire to the untutored street gamin i of our crowded cities. The Religious Telescope tells a pretty little incident : One day, in hastily turning the corner of a crooked street in London, a young lady ran with great force against a ragged little beggar boy and almost knocked him down. Stopping aa soon as she could she turned round and said yery kindtv to the boy, "I beg your pardon, my little man. I am sorry that I ran against you." The poor boy was astonished. He looked at her a moment in surprise, and then taking off about three-quarters of a cap he made a low bow, and said, while a, broad pleasant smile spread itself over bis face: "You can hey my yarding, JJiss, and welcome; and the next time you run agin me you can knock me clean down and I won't say a word." After the lady passed 0» he turned to Ws companion and said ; "I m, Jiw, ,iV$ > &e firs 1} time I

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