The Algona Upper Des Moines from Algona, Iowa on June 15, 1892 · Page 3
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The Algona Upper Des Moines from Algona, Iowa · Page 3

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Algona, Iowa
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Wednesday, June 15, 1892
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if^^v.xi'r.'r 7' • •' <f WffM i)Ea AMQKA, jQWAy WEDNESDAY, ;JtJNE 15,. ••» CONFLICT. ASTQRTOF UASTE „.._„ Haven's barouche, containing her selTLady 3i<!(l»h>wws, iiiui her children drove quickly from 1 her ladyship'*' dooi j n Olfirgc.' Street. They wore'about to nay a long-promised visit to Sydcnlmm and their return \vns improbable lintll lati lit night. •• «! wish you Would Have come with us,' had been Lady Raven's parting words to her niece. "Lady Jluiue will be so'disap pointed." iiBrides-eleet sire generally inaccessible or Invisible," Lady Margaret said, laiigh- ing. "Take my advice, Florence, and have a good day's rest'on the sofa with n novel Ilcnlly from the heat or overwork, you are looking terribly jaded," she added {,«od- nnturcdly. Later in the cliiy, his temper not improved by the burning sun under which his'lordship had ridden nil .the way from Kingston, Lord Hareourt 'Vcrnon stood at Lady Haven's door, his groom slowly lead•Ing off his muster'.* horso fora' period of two hours—that being the daily limit of Lord Vet-lion's courtship. "Miss AVorthington is at home, my lord; but my orders arc to say that she feels Indisposed, and dose not wish to be disturbed." «r faney nevertheless that you have stupidly mistaken ilNsAVurlliliigUm's orders," ills lordship iiiisivi'i-ed; and, as he spoke, lie entered, and as usual ascended the stairs into Lady Huveti's morning room—to find it empty, How keenly Florence counted every hated step on tho stairs! «[ will call hcv ladyship's maid to you, my lord," the l'ucii'«nn volunteered. "Tell Miss•WorlMngtoii 1 am here," his lordship said. His impcriousncm availed him hut little —he was flnoiiifvl ti.cltanppohitincht. "Ilcr ladyship's maid" arrived, inflated with the importance of her message, «lf you please,- my lord, her ladyship mid Lady Mcdilov/ofj have gone to Sydcn- lmm for the day, uud Miss AVorthington is indisposed, she has just desired me to tell you; and also that she lias an appointment after three, aiid wishes to remain undisturbed until then." Lord JLircourt Vnrnon was disliked by Ills inferiors, and they rejoiced now in his •disappointment. There was no tender inquiry, no delicate anxiety expressed as to the nature or l!:o extent of his fair fiancee's indisposition; but there was undisguised displeasure Jn his lordship's face, and a muttered imprecation escaped his lips. He was nmir-ed at her presumption, and lie turned hilently away down the stairs again. ; "Shall 1 give aUiss AVortiiington any message, my loni;-"' Lady Haven's maid asked. ' "Not any," w:-.-, the reply. And la a few moments }:';• lordship iiad left the house, iiml was sauntering in no enviable temper down the hot street, looking vainly for in's horse. "She has some abominable tricks of temper and caprice, \vliicli must be eradicated," his lordship tliuught. * * « * » » "Edwards, 1 am expecting ray cousins this afternoon—«!in',v them into Lady Haven's room. 1 am not at home to any one else, and mi no account let us bu disturbed," Miss \Yortliingiuii .-.aid when his lordship had departed. There could be r.o mystery in this arrangement, Edw::rds was sure, for she knew of Florence's long visit to her aunt Oiirrington, and probably the plans were prc-iirriingcd for to-day. Florence did not know whether her hopes would be realized. She hoped al- iiwst iig.'ijiiNt Jiojy,-.-; and intolerable though suspense, might be, at any rate it seemed better than pu-iii', ,• denial. "For the last time—for the hi-;t time," sho kept saying to herself. "If In 1 comes it will show me holms I'or.ifivon me." sho thought; and she thought ton that fliim she would bo happier. Instinct, toui her lie would come; mid almost to the moment she had fixed, she heard the visitors' bell—a moment later his tju.iek, firm step upon the stairs, A moment later lie was before her, alone— and she Cult half suffocated with the beating of her heart. He entered self-possessed, cold, and very pale, and she saw at a glance, was thinner than when sho hud last seen him, when she had buried li>.;-luce on his breast and had sworn liiithl'iilncss, binding him to keep silence till she should free his lips— For a moment she felt half-stilled; she could only meet him with outstretched hand—which he scarcely touched—and wordless. lie broke the silence first. "Well,'Miss Worthington, you see, as usual, your wishes have prevailed; and contrary to all my ideas of right, I have come to see you once more—for the last time, 1 suppose; for our paths In the future will he widely apart. You tell me in your note of yesterday that you cannot be Iinppy unless you hear forgiveness from my lips. If so little lies between you and happiness, Heaven knows I would not deprive you at' it. For your sake alone I have come, and that at least my conscience may be clear of ever voluntarily causing you pain. Do not fear that I have to reproach you—a woman's ii'.ca of honor differs widely from a man's." What could she say to him? Sho knew what she had done.; and now how bitterly she repented it! Her head was bout down and her tears were dropping fast. "The happy paal must all be dead be. tween us, Philip, i know. But I craved so to seo you again, to know that you do not utterly scorn me 1" she pleaded. "Ah, Florence, tt man, I fear, rarely scorns u woman he has once loved I Honestly I would scorn you if I could. Heaven knows which man you have wronged— tie tradesman or the peer. But one or wo other you have wronged, and are wrong, mg, with open eyes and bitterly." His reproaches were sweet to her, harsh-sound- "g as they were. "You once refused my '°vc, i, loi-cncc, ,Vuii, that you had a per- leet right to do, buyoiid u doubt; -but you ui>u no right to steal my heart, hiding from «e tne while that yours WHS not free to onii '" rctl "'"' You had less right to re"in your refusal and bind yourself to mo win a voluntary oath, forcing me to si- onto. Yo u had no right, again, Florence, ™ . llvo ">.y letter unanswered, to keep wo Slll! ' 1 orlll! ' suspense, because you Ww trim »° wlu ' U ' y ° 1 ' OIU ' ol °ss to tell me phiii ncv - cr lmvi ' ''•"' °"° liuc from y° u > slin i i llcn ] 1 " rt your father's house," 8U «declared steadily. iiici™-i V ? 1 ' tlleloss ' wroto to >' ou >" lie stlid > "ttm ' OUB ln "l' u « lof to* dentals "and ttt019 b; miscarry, Florence. But It little; hearing f»om me would Utterance I All power to yourself alone; and you " your own wishes fm tf f 1 ' '"' SllP S!lid ""'"'''v- "I told tnith '» )out l'<>rd Hareourt to m, v , o lm "•'"'•'« With you. He had jilted me," slip i *' ettm mutto . u uve »ua b ' Hl your letter, PWllp; I m "' writing once." Sho to her °w«« fl^t letter; if knew * W9W - i did uot do wlut you vout H , TO t at parting: but my pride has been my bane nil my hfe, and they have goaded me beyond endurance. The. position offered me has temped me beyond my power of res stance " she said, with drooping head. (O es tlmt .s the truth, Florence, I know rtnVV"? ; , tre " d r °" rrom tlic fl »t. though I trnsted-vainly, it seems-i, your hotter nature," H OW Ws words to tared her! ,,\ title and position have tempted you beyond your power of resist- unco; lor them you are content to resifm possible happiness. I know that too; but these, reproaches are childish, if not worse. I have <;omo to-day solely for your pleasure, to sacrifice oiicc more my own will to your caprice. It pleases you to think vou care for my forgiveness— take it freely."— He spoke with intense pathos. She saw the pain In M s C y esi) j n the working of his face, and the tortured sclf-con. trol he was exorcising. "And in return Florence," he went on, "I ask you a last favor— never try again to see me after to-day; never let j-our conscience be troubled with any fresh doubts; content yourself now. Ask mo to-day all you wish to hear; and, for the future, leave mo in peace. Let me forget your love, your sweet voice, all tlmt you have told me, the charm of your beaut}'— all the sweet wiles T have withstood so feebly.— You see, Florence, I admit them all," he said, trying to smile. "And, after today, leave mo in peace and let me be dead to you I" It pleased her to hear him speak thus; but the future seemed to her so inevitable that she could not now avert her cruel fate. "Tell me of yourself Florence," he resumed. "Put your plebean cousin from your mind entirely. Set your conscience at rest, if that only is troubling you; for your happiness must be nearly complete, I am forced to believe." "My misery is, if you mean that," she said, in passionate tones. "It is a mock. ery to wish mo happiness, and you know it, for I am utterly and hopelessly miserable I" "You must be exaggerating your troubles Florence, I think. You have struggled hard— sacrificed some happiness, you admit for a brilliant future. A more biill- liant one could scarcely be imagined _ at least in ii conventional sense— and I suppose that is all you care for." "I am utterly wretched," she answered, breaking down and weeping bitterly. <•! bate my. life, I loathe my future husband; the sound of his voice sickens me, his step is the signal for me to wish to fly from him," she continued passionately.' She yearned for a word of love, aiid he would not grant her one. "A dangerous admission, Jliss Worthington, and one I cannot respect you for making or confessing, but it is safe with me. 1 suppose you have counted well the compensation you will have for absent love or want of sympathy with Lord Vcrnon. Dresses, jewels, carriages, a coronet— all these are, I suppose, beyond price to a woman's heart, or — thank Heaven! — to some women." He got up hurriedly and stood before her. "Florence, you declare your hatred of the life you are choosing — worse still, of you r future husband. Believe me, you will do him less wrong in sending him from you now than in marrying him __ . Leave the brilliant future you have chosen. Be my wife, Florence; my right is greater than Lord Vernon's even now. Prove your words to me. If you love me as you say, your life shall be one long dream of happiness. I can give you that, my darling, if lesser things are lacking. Oh, Florence, come to me, throw all your pride, all your false ambition, to the winds, while there is yet time to save yourself!" He was standing close to her; his arms were held towards her, love shining in his passion-lit face, and from his soft, dreamy eyes. She was tempted almost beyond endurance; but fear. withheld her even more than pride orambition. She glanced round, as if appealing to the walls to aid her. A moment more, and she must have yielded would have been in his arms; but he saw lier hesitation and would not brook it. If she had repented as she said — suffered as she said — how eagerly would she have caught at a straw to save herself! He dropped his outstretched arms. "Ah, Florence, 1 have judged you rightly I You would take me could I offer you all that is now so nearly within your grasp. For my own sake, for my love alone, I am little to you. Be it so, was worse than mad to try to tempt you again." i'Philip, I dare not do what you ask __ surely J am pledged, beyond any power to release me, to Lord Hiircourt Vernon?" "And 1 ask you whom you are now wronging most? 'iVho will suffer most? I an toll you that even now — yourself; but [ scorn your love now, Florence, I have ;ested it and can see its worthlessness." • She rose and clung to him, but he put dor from him; he put down her clinging arms; and she fell back into her chair, covering her face with her hands and crying bitterly. : 'May you h'nd happiness in the path you jave chosen, and may wo never meet again !" Philip said. Her hands still covered her eyes; she scarcely heard his words; she bnly knew ,hat her pain was agonizing. She longed 'or courage to break her gilded chains, and t was almost coming to her; but, while iositating, sho was lost. In another moment his quick step had passed from the room, and he was gone 'rom the house, leaving the future Lady lareourt 'Vernou trembling and crying in icr chair, convulsed with grief, craving 'or power to break her bonds, "Ah, he was mine— mine; ho would give ue now all the sweetness of his love — all; and I have lost him !" sho moaned. But in ho black darkness came a gleam of suu- shine. • ' On APT E u XVI, Miss \Vorlhingtou was indisposed in mind and body— Lord Haruourt Vernon not at all in body, but very much in mind uud temper; and all of Lady .Margaret Moddotvi's' smiles failed to win an answering one— all of the Countess of Haven's effort, all of her delicate flattery could not dissipate the cloud from his lordships' brow. His pride had been hurt, his plans disarranged, while Florence did not appear with conciliating smiles to woo his forgiveness. "The truth is, Lord Hareourt," Lady Margaret said, "my cousin has been overworked lately. This trousseau business is more fatiguing than one thinks, and the great heat has exhausted her. It will be everything to her when you can get her in, to the country, poor girl! She is looking quite fagged, though it socuw to me brides- elect always do look so." But Lord Hal-court's mind was not one whit relieved of an ugly suspicion which had taken possession of it. iMiss Worthington had denied herscjf to him, but other visitor* had Ucun more fortunuty. "Lady MSrgarot, will you forghe my asking >ou a question!"' «Cortuiuly, Hareourt," her lady- ship answered ft little' euriotls. '•Miss Worthlngton ' altered all my at rangemcnts this morning. I had dism'isse my groom for two hours before I galnei admittance—which obliged me to return again to C'hirges Street to find my horse a the appointed time. I had also the pleas lire of seeing a gentleman enter you house. • As Lady Huron jind yourself were both absent may I ask if tlie'admittcd visitor came to see Miss Wortiiington?" This then was the cause of his lordship's ill-humor, and perhaps pardonable jealousy! Jjady .Raven had been fatigued during the day, and greatly Mrorrlccl since her return, and she could n6t now rally quickly from this sudden attack; but Lady Margaret's presence of mind rarely forsook her—she was quicker-witted than her mother. She laughed lightly and prettily. "Oh, that is your bete nolr, Lord Har- courtl Your question is easily answered We have fortunately withheld nothing from you regarding your connection with our family. You know my poor uncle made a mesalliance, although happily his young wife died; and you know also the terrible confusion which prevailed also at the. time of Sir Arthur's death. 1 was tn France, my mother obliged to go to a friend who was ill, and Florence, who was always » little headstrong and difficult to manage —insisted on spending her year of seclusion with her mother's family. It 'was morbid notion which possessed hoi-, and from which she appeared to derive comfort." Lady Margaret gave her explanation readily and frankly, but still the cloud remained on his lordship's brow. "I cannot quite see what this has to do with the point in question, Lady Margaret The gentleman whom Miss AVorthington admitted this morning, after denying herself to me, was, I presume, her cousin?" "Yes, Lord Hareourt; but you do not know that, though a most respectable and, I believe, superior person, lie is nevertheless u tradesman. Florence would naturally not wish to bring him into contact with yourself." The cloud was dispersed a. little now, though not entirely.. . "He remained just one hour and thirty- live minutes," his lordship said solemnly. Poor Florence! Some one else had counted the moments as well as herself. "lean well believe that," Lady Marga. ret rejoined quickly. "Ho brought her some presents, I believe; she also displayed to him the many she has already had, which was rather natural. The result was, poor girl, she was over-tired and excitofU Voila towt, Lord Hareourt." "I am glad you have explained '..Butters so satisfactorily, Lady Margaret, for I own to you that I have been dissatisfied and distrustful all day," his lordship said. "It is getting late now," he added, looking at his watch. "Pray express my very sincere sympathy to your cousin, and say that hope to find her better to-morrow, at the usual hour." And with these parting words, his lordship went his way, Ludy Margaret breathing a sigh of relief as the door closed on him. "Oh, mother, poor Florence will pay the full penalty for her past willfulness! AVas there ever another man with such a temper? And his two leading ideas seem to ho jealousy and suspicion. He, of all people in the world, need not be too particular in his inquiries after other people's proprieties, I think." "Margaret, pray be careful!" Lady Ita- ven said, with sudden horror, as if the walls had ears. "Vou need not fear, mother; Florence's own suspicions seem to be in some way aroused, if 1 may judge from a few words she lias vouchsafed to me lately. Of course I would not discourage her for the world. Besides, matters have gone too far now.— But I am glad Lord Hareourt was not fated to be my husband. Sir John has told me some rather startling things about him lately. I can only hope that Florence may always remain unenlightened. His temper and stupidity will keep IKJ- hands well filled. I prophesy the pair" will come to grief the first year. However, she will have her title—and sho is not a girl likely to forfeit her position." "Oh, Margaret, pray don't say such things! Husbands and wives in our station are not subjected to the little crosses and trials of the lower classes." "Let us hope, mother, that it may prove so in their case," returned Lady Margaret sighing. "Oh that the next month were safely over!" cried the elder lady. "I own to you, Margaret that at times Florence has made me seriously uneasy," "You need not be mother. It would be impossible for Florence to recede now She would lack the courage for that, I am sure," Lady Margaret declared reassuringly. " ..... _ ; * * * * * * "Good Heavens, Florence, how white you look ! Surely you are ill, child?" Lady Unveil exclaimed glancing at her niece us she entered the breakfast-room ou the following morning. "You had better Ue down anil let mo send for Doctor Hanson. What ails you?" "Nothing, aunt, thank you, beyond the effects of a sleepless night—u little worry perhaps." She might have said, "A newborn hope." "Don't let Lord Harcourt see you »s you are. You are as white as a ghost," "You think his lordship might regret his offer if he saw my brightness faded?" Miss AVorthington said In no pleasant tones. "I should imagine my white face—if it is white, aunt—would prove most satisfactory to him. It would testify to the reality of my indisposition of yesterday." "Mrs. Gilbert has sent the silks for you to select, Florence;" her ladyship remarked, wishing to turn the conversation, which she felt was getting dangerous. "They are all lovely; but Margaret advises you to chooso the cream-white—all wliito is so trying by day-light," "Oh, aunt, spare me to-day!" Florence said wildly. "Or choose for me—or rather leave them unchosen.' I cannot, will not, look at them now I The very thought of Ihom sickens me!" "Well, dear, don't worry yourself about them now. Leave them for the present, till'M'argiirot'coiues. Take some hot coffee, Florence, and try to get some color into your chocks;" and her ladyship filled a cup and passed it to her niece, looking anxiously Into her lace the while. "My dear, I fear you are ill. Toll mo what you feel. You really make me anxious," her ladyship added earnestly; "You need not be, aunt. I am really well, beyond being tired through a sleepless night and a heartache. They are both ordinary ailments, and need cause no anxiety." "But you have no business with either, Florence."' "Aunt, answer me truly. Do you honestly think that Lord Harcourt's love, or affection—call it what you please—is an all-satisfying possession for me—for any girl of my age, of course put.tiug his lordship's coronet out of the question?'' "But you cau scarcely separate one from the other, Florence.. <Lovo' seems to {ue to be hardly a fit term to use In our position. Of course it is understood, One esteem »ud respect for PRO' and affection iyill come, itememoer, ivior- ence dear, in your pbsition you cannot be tried by little daily troubles and cares so constantly recurring in other classes." "And you conscientiously assure me aunt Margftret, that you think I may feel esteem and respect for Lord Harcojirt, and that affection will come?" Miss Worthington asked. But Lady Haven liked the tone of her niece's voice less than the question—hei White face least of all. "Of course I do, my dear; and I think you are a most fortunate girl. You are making a much more brilliant match than your cousin Margaret made." "Perhaps so, but of the two I think I should prefer Sir'John Meddowcs," the perverse Peeress-elect declared. "I do not like to hear you talk so wildly, Florence; and—forgive my saying so, dear—I do not think it is in very good taste. I must say you have been very glwc and tractable, hitherto, and taken the advice of your elders, which young people nowadays are not apt to do. And 1 am proud of you—as proud as if you were my own daughter." But Florence turned away quickly—hoi conscience was stinging her sharply. OltAI-l-KM XVII. At the usual hour of visiting his fair fiancee Lord Hal-court Vernon once more dismounted from his horso at Lady ItnveitN house in Clarges Street. He knew there could bo no denial in store for him this time, and he ascended the stairs withies; dignity and more elation than usual. Ho found Miss AVorthington waiting for him, doubtless laden with apologies and regrets for her shortcomings of the previous day And even his .lordship was- aroused from his apathy by the sight of his (iiincee's face —it was so colorless, "Florence, I fear you were really sutler- ing more than I. thought yesterday. It was not caprice which prevented your seeing me—and 1 really gave you credit for it." , Florence raised her eyes steadily to his lordship's face and answered calmly , "Nevertheless, Lord Harcourt,"t must confess that it was caprice—even worse than eiipriciv 1 was perfectly well ycster- terday, and my denial was premeditated." lu mute astonishment his lordship looked •t his fiancee. Then she got up quickly and stood before him. 'Lord Hareourt, I cannot marry you," sho said clearly and distinctly. There was no mistaking her words. "You cannot marry me, Miss 'Worthington? Are you mad? Within a fortnight of our marriage you presume to tell me this!" he exclaimed indignantly. "You can only be jesting of course—but it is an ugly jest, and one I must beg you to retract," That he disbelieved the possibility of what she said was evident, but ho was un mistakably incensed. TO BE CONTINUED. KITCHEN. Strawberry Float. Look over one quart of well-picked strawberries, so there is a full quart after they are hulled, add one quart of fine sugar and mash together. Beat the whites o six eggs until stiff, then add the berries and stir them all together until mixed and light enough so it will pile up Irish. Pou m a glass dish. Strawberries, French Style. Perfectly ripe strawberries, fresh picked with long stems are necessary. They are served in white French china saucers with a tiny after-dinner coffee cup in the center of the saucer, filled with puFverized sugar. The strawberries with the hulls and stems on are laid loosely in the saucers around the cup, garnished with strawberry leaves and _an occasional blossom. These strawberries are dipped into sugar and eaten from the finger. Strawberry Punch. Put two tablespoonfuls of gelatine in a jup and add four tablespoonfuls of cold water; let soak half an hour; pour one quart of water over one and one-fourth pounds of granulated sugar; set over the Eire and stir until melted. Grate in the rind of one orange and let it boil five minutes; takeoff the fire and add the gelatine; strain through cheese cloth, squeeze the juice of two lemons and one orange, strain and add the syrup. Mash and squeeze enough strawberries for half a pint of juice, add to the syrup, and after jnixmg set away to cool. When cold put in freezer and turn slowly until frozen Serve in sherbet glasses. Strawberry Tarta. Take pie-crust which has stood in the ice-box long enough to get cold, roll and ipread with butter, fold together and roll inin. Cut with a small cutter the right size for tarts; for each owe cut three piece?, illow one whole one for the bottom and iwo for the top, with the center out oat. [/ay two of these pieces on one of the whole ones, set them in a dripping pan in the ice-box until cold, then bake in a quick oven. When done brush over the iop with white of an egg, and rift over ihem fine sugar. Return them to the oven i few moments, set them away until ready 10 use, then fill with fresh strawberries and over them pour whipped ' cream and a sprinkle of fine sugar. Green Pea Soup. Cook together for thirty minutes one quart chicken stock, one pint canned peas, one onion, one slice of narrot, one sprig of >arsley, one-half a bay leaf, one spri^ of rhyme, one stalk of celery and one clove, ill but the peas to be tied in a muslin, lemovethe herbs and rub the peas and took through a sieve. Reheat the soup, add one tablespoon butter and one tabie- poon flour cooked together, one teaspoon alt and one saltspoon pepper. Add also me cup cream and serve as soon as hot. Married Women dot Free, Goy, Flower, says the New York World, has signed the bill which permits married women to make contracts in their own tames as freely as men may do. Thus lisappears from the statute book of New York the last trace of a middle-age bar- larisna. The laws on this subject originated in the theory once everywhere ac- epted that the wife was a, chattel, the jroperty of the husband. Long after that heory disappeared the law still maintain- d many of the disabilities of married wo- nen which could be justified only by ;he abandoned conception. The law is always slow to recognize changes in society and civilization, and it has been pecu- larly slow and conservative in this. But ur generation hat) been very restless un- ler these anachronisms of the Jaw. One tter another of the disabilities of married women hare been removed, until now the m of them is blolted fa J? ew yprk, as ft. was long ai<o.ui.so»e of the younger ;ates—Mississippi being % leader-^ajod ur law BOW fully ^cognises fee married "Qwaa as »n HujwiMJl w.i$ r >»,. I i > FARM AND HOME. THE Ci.OV.ER. .fAMKS WHtTCOMB Some sing of the lily, and daisy and rose, And the pansles and pinks that summer time throws In the green, grassy lap of the medder that layfl Blinkin 1 np at the skies through the snnshlny days; But what Is the Illy and all of the rest, Of the flowers to a man wfth a heart In hie breast That has dipped brimming full of the honey and dew Of the sweet clover blossoms that in boyhood we knew? I never set hevey on a clover field now, Or fool round n stable, or climb in the mow, But my childhood comes back just as clear and as plain As the smell of the clover I'm snifltn" again; And I wander away in a barefooted dream, Where I tangle my toes in the blossoms that gleam With the dew of the dawn of the morning of love Ere It wept o'er the graves that I am weeping above. And so I love clover—it seems like a part Of the sacrament sorrows and joys ol mr heart And wherever It blossoms, O there let me bow And thank the good God as I am thankln' Him now; And pray to .Illm.'still for the strength when I To go out in the clover and tell It good-bye. And lovingly nestle my face In Its bloom while my soul slips away on a breath of perfume. FABM. NOTB8. Cottonseed Meal. . The value of food does not depend on its bulk. Chemists claim that a pound of cottonseed meal is equal, in nutrition, to three pounds of corn, or seven and a half pounds of bran. * JS--A ^ «-tore, it is mush grain P ounds of bran. According to cost, there- cheaper than any kind of Fertilizer for Hop Vines. There is* no better fertilizer for a hop vine than a pure, strong, unleached wood ashes. They contain both potash and sulphuric acid, which are available, provided there is moisture enough in the soil to dissolve them. Shallow cultivation induces moisture by pumping it from below. Hilling TS. Level Culture Too much hilling up around the plants is not an advantage. Nearly all the ex- E eriments made to determine the effects of illing and of level culture aie favorable to level cultivation of nearly all kinds of plants, not even excepting squashes, cucumbers and melons, especially on sandy soils. pendent experiments made elsewhere under private anspiciea. At the Maasachn- setts experiment station also an electric current transmitted on wires laid in the soil near the roots of .plants promoted their vigorous growth. We may soon see 1 electricity competing with the hot house and the southern growers in supplying ua with early fruits and vegetables. Testing Cows. Jn conversation with some farmers about weeding out their poor cows, it was sUg» geated that a record of their yield should be kept for guidance and information. All admitted the value of it, but none of them had done it, the excuse being that it was too much trouble. That seems to be the bugbear with all dairymen, "two much Work." They say we have enough to do now, getting up at 4 o clock and working until 7 or 8 every day, without undertaking anything more. There is some rea son ; in this, but is the labor intelligently done ? The ordinary dairyman at all seasons can easily find time to test at least a portion of his cows to determine their ability to pay for their food. It is easy to have a' spring scale and slate hanging in a convenient place in the stable, whera it is but a moment's work to record each milking. Once started the interest will soon develob, and milking without weighing milk will, not be thought of. fry it dairy farmers and see if it "don't pay." It surely will. —D. W. Wilson, in Orange Judd Farmer. IHJffi HOME. How to Feed Hogg. Feeding hogs on the ground is one of the old time practices that should now be followed only by such farmers as are still using^a crooked stick for a plow, and are planting by the moon. Feed them on the floor, and the grain will be eatein up clean and the hogs will not bo compelled to take so much dirt with it. Give a hog half a chance, and he is quite a gentleman at his' feeding. That Troublesome Bue. For protecting cucumbers, squashes and melons from the common and troublesome striped bug, the Ohio experiment station last year had good success by the use of tobacco powder, the refuse of the cigar factories. Aside from its value as an insecticide, the tobacco acts as a mulch and Fertilizer. Salt for Sheep. the Sheep Breeder says to keep "the sheep in a healthy condition it is necessary that they be supplied with sufficient amount of saline matter. When this is wanting in the pasture, as it very frequently is except near the seacoast, it must be supplied artificially. S tit is more or less poisonous to worms and flukes, hence it is necessary to give sheep a plentiful supply. Sheep Raising. If one wishes to go extensively into steep raising he must have cheap land ind a wide range, but a small flock can be kept to advantage on any farm, and the richer and more valuable the land is in such a case the better it is. This indicates .he two branches of sheep husbandry, and with either of the two methods sheep may )e kept profitably almost anywhere in our whole country. Beans. As a rule, any good soil will produce a good crop of beans, provided it is not yet wet, and in a climate where you can be certain of 80 days of warm weather. Beans should be planted in the spring, about the time corn is put in, but may be lelayed a week or so if more convenient. The nwst popular varieties for winter use, when ripe and dry, are the small or me- iium-sized white beans, such as the White Sidney, White Marrow and White Wonder. The latter is a comparatively new variety, and said to be of excellent quality and very productive. ;.The Farmer a Manufacturer. Every farmer who keeps stock is a manufacturer. His crops are the rawjmaterial .nd his animals the machines for manu- acturing, and his beef, pork, wool, butter to., are the finished products. In order o determine if there is any profit in the manufacture he must know the cost of raw naterial and the expense of transforming t into the manufactured product, A mater of plows who did not5 knowjthis would soon go to the wall. Ho n many of our readers keep their accounts so accu- ately us to determine it? He Was So Human. SELECTKD. His magic was not far to seek, ue was so human I Whether strong or weak. Far from his kind he neither sank nor soared. But sat nn equal guest at every board. No beggar over felt him condescend, Noprincn presume; for still himself he bora At manhood's simple level, and when e'r He met a stranger there he left a friend. If you want to walk straight yourself don't watch another man's feet. When vouget a giant down it is never safe until you cut off his head. Silence at the proper season is wisdom and better than any speech.—Plutarch. It will not be hard to speak kind Jworda if you cullivnte fine feelings. The-best way to find the truth is to be willing that the truth shall find you. The virtue of thq soul does not consist in flying high, but in walking orderly,— Montaigne. "Blessed is he that considereth the poor; the Lord will deliver him in time of trouble." The sacred Scriptures tell us the best way of living, the noblest way of suffering, and the most comfortable way of dying.—Flavel. The world is full of life. Each life is a tune; so the world is a great orchestra, and of them all how few tunes are played through, how many ended as they were not begun—Taylor. Love. Love is never lost. He who loves truly and purely is a gainer through his love,' even though that love be unrequited; and unrequited love is really a blessing to the one toward whom it goes out unselfishly. Love is of God; and it betters him who gives it, and him on whom it is lavished. Love needs no bargain or return to make it a two-fold blessing.—Christian Inquirer . Man an Omnibus. There is no one of us that does not have a twinge of consciousness along the line of Oliver Wendell Holmes' wise observation: "A man is an omnibus in which all of his ancestors are riding." And yet, .to tell the truth, you hold the reins, and you htve the right of eviction. We aid not so irreverent; as to say in common parlance, "Turn the rascals out," but surely one ought not to be obliged to carry more than his own reasonable harden, Reaching: Upward. A _ wise choice between two shares of bervice, or methods |of work, is shown in choosing the_higher rather than the lower; not necessarily in choosing the more trying, rather than the easier. The higher is always better thin the lower; but the mora trying is not always better than that which is easy. There is merit in pain or privation or hardship; but there is a sure gain in reaching upward, instead of being contented with a lower level. The Elements of Success, Success presupposes conditions and preparations for it,—the energy, self-abnera- tion _which brirga brawn and breadth and dignity, strength, wisdom, and skill. We cannot safely jump into success; we are likely to get lliurt, and soon fall back dis- hearted to where we belong. Some try to succeed by jumping into their father's shoes; but these shoes do not fit, and cause theyouthto walk so awkwardly that he generally .makes a fool of himself, Nearly everything of real worth has to beeflrned. To be appreciated and judicially appropriated, our possessions must have cost their value. The toil and struggle and plodding that brings _ solid gain, brings also thu mature experience, thorough dis- cidline, and hard knocks that make up stalwart manhood and permanent success. Cheerfulness, Spring Pigs, The spring pigs must be turned into jork within nine or ten months at most if ou expect any profit from them. To this nd they must be well looked after from ho start. The sow and pigs should have warm, clean and comfortable nest from he start. Milk, bran, shorts and oats, with plenty of good water, should be the principal diet for the sow. Within two reeks from birth the pigs will begin to at, and within four weeks oaii use'oonsid- rable milk. As soon as they can eat grass urn them out on pasture, tod for 5 months :e»d them for lean meat and muscle. Not much 'corn should be given during this >eriod. Save that until you are ready to atteji. Electricity and Plant Growth. It would be rather curious if electricity dould become an important; factor jn the 'ork of the horticulturist, but there fceems obeat least a possibility that this will aappen, The Cornell experiment station as been conducting aseries of experiments whjch have beee jbn veyy i MUM ef- Much depends upon a cheerful start for the day. The man who leaves his home with a scowl on his brow, and a snap at his children, and a tart speech to his wife instead of a kiss, is not likelj to be pleasant company for anybody during the day; he will probably come home with the temper of a porcupine, Wise plans should be laid for every day, so that it be not an idle saunter, or an aimless bustling to and fro. Yet to make good speed on the right track we must not start overloaded; not too many things to be undertaken, lest they prove a hasty botchwork. The journey is not made in a cushioned car, but on foot; and the most galling is vexations and worrying care. One step at a time is all that the most busy Christian can take, and steady walking ought not to tire any •healthy body or soul. It is the overstrained rush, whether in business or study, that breaks people down; especially the insane greed for wealth, or the mad ambition goarding brain and nerves to a fury. The shattered nerves and sudden deaths in all our great business cen- tres tell a sad story. A good rule is to take short views. Sufficient to the day is the toil thereof; no man is strong enough to bear to-day's Ioa4 with t9-,mprrp.w's load piled on top of it. The only look far ahead that you and I should take should be the look towaj-4 the j»4gpejftt seit and the ofered[W9W» »t $w end,o| That i» fee way to get a ^pfe of &J»,*!S '1- 'rf'*tlS85SbkS!<&i."sS .'." .iLlsnBliSBlsi l-ll....

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