The Algona Upper Des Moines from Algona, Iowa on November 4, 1891 · 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, November 4, 1891
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PPM DES MOINES A ALGON A v lQWA, WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 4,1891. A TRUE LOVE STORY. "I'm not your child; I'm mamma's," =ays <Pay, firmly; but, having so far vindicated Jier mother's character, she goes on. with lier tale: "When he got up he didn't look a bit better," she says. "Ho looked worse I think, Didn't you, Ulic?" addressing the .stricken young man in the window. "And I always thought It was only children Who said their prayers to people, and not (Ingrown-up ones. And why did he elioo-.-.- •Olga? Wasn't there mamma? And wus-i t there Madame? You would have let I ini •say his prayers to you, Madame, wouldn't you?" turning placidly to her hostess. "I should have been only too charmed,— too highly flattered," says' Madame in a stifled tone; and then she gives way nlfci- gether, and breaks Into n gay and hearty .laugh, under cover of which Olga beats an Ignominious retreat. Mr. Eonayne, feeling rather than seehn: thatliis colleague In this disgraceful sill'.iir lias taken flight, puts down his brushes softly and jumps lightly from the ope.n window ito the grass beneath. Then with a sin d that belongs to his. long limbs, ho hurries toward that corner of the house that will .lead him to the hall door; as he turns il, he receives Olga almost In his arms. "You here?" she says. "Oh, that terrible child 1" "She don't understand, poor little oottl.", And then, as though the recollection overcomes him, he gives way to uncontrollable •mirth. "Such unseemly levity 1" says Mrs. Bohun, In a disgusted tone; but, after the vaguest hesitation, she laughs too. "Come to the orchard," says Konayne; id to the orchard they go. Here, limlins; •rustic scat at the foot of a gnarled and moss-grown apple-tree, they take possession of it. ...... "It Is very unfortunate," says Olga, with a sigh. Her fair hair is being blown like a f-fillver cloud hither and thither, and renders ! her distractingly pretty. "You mean our betrayal by that child?" "Yes. I hope it/will cure you of ever being so silly ns to go on<your knees to any ••woman again." "1 shall never go on my knees to any woman but you, whether you accept or reject me." "I am sure, I don't know how I am ever to face those people inside again." Here •she puts one dainty little finger between her lips and bites it cruelly. "There Is nothing remarkable In having •one's accepted lover nt one's feet." "But you are not that," she says, lifting her brows and seeming half amused at Us 'boldness. "By one word you can make me so." "Can I? What is the word?" This is puzzling; but Mr. Ronayne, noth- •ing daunted, says,— "You have only to say, 'you are,' and 1 am." "It isn't Christmas yet," says Mrs. Bohim; "you shouldn't throw conundrums at me, •out of season. It Is too much I 'you nre anil I am.' I couldn't guess it, indeed; I'm anything but clever." "If you say the 'I will,' you will find the •solution to our conundrum at once." • "But that is two words." "Olga, does the fact that I love you carry •no weight with it at all?" "But do you love me-reallyf" "Need 1 answer that?" "But there are others, younger, prettier." - "Nonsense I There is no one prettier than ;>*ou in this wide world." "Ah 1" with a charming smile, "now in>deed I helievo you do love me, for the Greek •Cupid is blind. What a silly boy you are to urge this matter? For one thing, 1 am older than you." "A year or two." "For another " ' "i will not listen. 'Stony limits cnnnot 'bold love out;' why, therefore, try to discourage me?" "But you should think " "1 think only that if you will say. what I ;»sk you, I shall be always with you, and you •with me." < "What Isj/ourjoy is my fear. Custom ^creates weariness! And—'the lover, In the husband, may be lostl'" "Ahl you have thought of me in that Wm. A baby should not be allowed to ronm | the world at large without some one to look after him." "D3 you love him, Olsa?" "Yes, 1 do," snys Olg-a, defiaritly. "You may scold me If you like, but a title isn't everything, nnd he is worth a dozen of that cold, stiff Mossmoyne." "Well, dearest, as yon have riven him the best part of you,—your hwirt,-lt is well tho rest should follow,' says Mrs. Ilerrick, tenderly. "Yes, I think you will be very hamiv With him." This speech Is so strange, so unexpected, BO exactly unlike anything she had made tin her minil to receive, that for a moment Olaa Is stricken dumb. Then with a rush she comes back to glad life. "Do I wake? do I dream? aro thcro vis- Ions about?" she says. "Why, what sentiments from you I Y'ou have 'changed all that,' apparently," "I have," says Hcrmia, very slowlv, yet with a Vivid blush. Something in her whole manner awakes suspicion of the truth in Olsa's mind. "Why," she says, "you don't mean to toll that-—-Oh, nolitqan't be true I ami vet— y^'ly believe you have Is it so, Her- It Is," says Hcrmia, who lias evidently, uy help of some, mental process of her own, understood nil tills -amazing farrago of apparently meaningless words. There is a new sweetness on Mrs. Herrick's lips. One of her rare smiles lights up her calm, artistic face. "After all your vaunted superiority!" says Olga, drawing n deep sigh. "Oh, dcarl" 1 hen, with a wicked bill, merry imitation of Sirs, Herni'k's own manner to hot 1 ,'she goOs "You nre throwing yourself away, dearest. Ihe world will think nothing of you- lor the future; ami you, so formed to shine, and dazzle, and " "He will be a baronet at his father's death," says Mrs. Ilerrick, serenely, with a heavy emphasis on the first pronoun; and then suddenly, as though ashamed of this speech, she lets her mantle drop from her and cries, with some tcndcV'passion,— "1 don't care about that. Hear the truth from me. If he were as ugly and poor its Mary Browne's Peter, I should marry'him all the same, just because 1 love him 1" "Oil, Hcrmia, I am so glad," says 01"-n. "After all, what Is there- in tho whole wfdo world so sweet as Jove? And as for Rossmoyne,—why, he couldn't make a tender speech to save his life as it should be made- whilst Ulic-oh, he's cliarming!" "Von nave missea me mi tmyr ne K«J. B ftfter a pause that to them has been divin'e. "Oh, Brian, what a day It 1ms been I" she clings to htm. "All these past hours have been full of honor. Whenever I thought of your danger last night, I seemed to grow cold and dead with fear; nnd then when the minutes slipped by, and still you noveroanic to me, 1 began to picture i/oit as cold nnd dead, nnd then - Ah!" she (-lines still closer to him, nnd her voice falls her. "I never knew," she whispers, brokenly, "how well I love;l you until I so nearly lojt vou. 1 could not live without yon now." ''Nor shall yon," re! urns itc, straining her to bis heart with passionate tenderness. "'My 111'e is yours, to do what you will with it. And somehow nil day lon-j I knew (mid w;ts happy in tho knowledge, forgive mo :iial) that you were lonely fur want of mo; 1'iit 1 could not come to you, my .soul, until this Very moment. Yet, believe me, 1 suffer- tin more than you during our long separation." (If any one Inushs here, it will prove lie has never been In love, and so is nn object of pity. This should check untimely mirth.) "You felt it long, too, then?" says Monica, hopefully. "How can you ask mo that? Your darling ilight," exclaims the young man, eagerly. . '"Beloved, If you will only take me, you shall find in mo both lover and husband un- \til your life's end." The smile has died from OJga's lips; she 'holds out her hands to him. ' ; So be it," she says, gravely. "You mean it?" says Ronayne, as yet" infraitl to believe In his happiness. "Yes. But if ever you repent blarno yourself." "And if you repent?" "I shall blame you too," she says, with a >suilden return to her old archness. "And you will refuse Kossmoyne?" Site laughs ouiright at this, and glances tit .him from under drooping lashes. "I can't promise that," she says, with carefully simulated embarrassment,—"because " '.'What?" haughtily, moving away from -her. "I did so yesterday," • »'Oh, darling, how 'cruelly I misjudged :you! I thought—I feare-d " "Never mind all that. I know—I forgives you. I've a lovely temper," says Oiga, with •much self-grntulation. "Why did you refuse him? Was it," hopefully, "because you didn't like him'."' "N—o. Not so much that—as " again this shameless coquette hesitates, and turns her head uneasily from sidu to side, as thouuh afraid to give utterance to the truth. "What? Explain, Olga," says her lover, in a fresh agony "As that I—love UOK/" returns she, with a heavenly smile. His arms close round her, nnd at tills moment she lets all her heart bo semi by h!m The mocking light dies o.it of her eyos, her face grows earnest. She lets her heart b^at with happy unrestraint against his. The minutes fly, but timu was never made to be counted by bl.ssful lovers. A gong sounding in the. distance) rousas them from their contented dr. timing, "I must go and tell lloi'mia," she savs< starting to her feet; "that is the dressing- CHAPTER XXX. And now night has fallen at last npon this long day. A gentle wind Is shiveriii" through the elms ; a glorious moon has risen in all its beauty, and stands in "heaven's wide, pathless way," as though conscious of its grandeur, yet sad for the sorrows of the seething earth beneath. Now resplendent she shines, and now through a tremulous mist shows her pure face, and again for a space is hidden, "As if her lioail she now'd Stooping 1 through n Ilccoy cloud." Miss Priscilla, with a sense of new-found dignity upon her, has gone early to bud. Miss Penelope has followed suit. Terence, in the privacy of his own room, is rubbing a dirty oily flannel on the bright barrels of his beloved gun, long since made over to him as a gift by Brian. Kit is sitting on the wide, old-fashioned window-seat in Monica's room at her sister's feet, and with her thin little anna twined lovingly round her. She is sleepy enough, poor child, but cannot bear to desert Monica, who is strangely wakeful and rather silent and distraite. For ever since the morning when he had come to carry Miss Prls- dlla to Coole, Brian has been absent from her; not once has he come lo her; and a sensu of chill and fear, as strong as it-isfool- ish, is overpowering her. She rouses herself now with a littlo nervous quiver that seems to run through all her veins, and lets her hand fall on Kit's drooping head. "It grows very late. Go to bed, darling," she says, gently. "Not till you go," says Kit, tightening the clasp of her arms. "Well, that shall be in a moment, then," says Monica, with a stilled sigh. All through tliu dragging day and evening she has clung to the thought that surely her lover .will come to bid her "good-night." And now it is late, and he has not come, and She leans against the side of the wide-open casement, and gazes in sad meditation upon the slumbering garden underneath. The lilies,— "tall white garden-lilies,"— though it Is late in the season now, and bordering on snows and frosts, are still swaying to and fro, and giving most generously a rich perfume to the wandering air. Earth's stars they seem to her, as she lifts her eyes to compare them with tlio '"forget-me-nots ol the angels," up above. Her first disappointment about her lovo is desolating her. She leans her head againsl the wood-work, 'and lifts her eyes to the vaguely-tinted sky. Thus with face up turned she drinks in the fair beauty of the night, and, as its bounty grows upon her, her sorrow deepens. cltmb'st face was never once out of my mind, nnd yet 1 could not come to you. 1 had so many things to do, so many people to seo, and tlio poor old fellow was so ill. But havo we not cause to bo thankful?— at last the breach between our houses Is healed, mid wo may tell all the world of our love." "You should have heard Aunt Priscilla, how she talked of you when she camo back to-dny from Coolty' says Monica, in a llitlo fervent glow of enthusiasm. "It was beautiful J You know site must havo understood you all along to bo able to say the truth of yon HO well. She said so much lit your favor that she satisfied even me." She says this with such n graceful imlvctc, and such nn utter belief In his superiority to the vast majority of men, that Mr. Desmond does well to feel the pridu that surges in his heart. "I really think she has fallen in love with you," says Miss Bercsford, at tho last, with n littlo gay laugh. "Perhaps that is why she refused the Squire," says Brian; anil then ho basely bu- Irays trust, by telling her all that taleof tho late wooing of Miss Priscilla, and Its result, which awakens In tho breast of that ancient lady's nioco a mirth asundutlful as it is prolonged. "And what were you doing all day?" she Bays, when It has somewhat subsided. "Trying to keep my uncle— did I tell yon no has fallen In love with your photograph? —from talking himself into a brain-fever, and I was swearing hard, and - " "Brian." "Only informations, darling I And I wouldn't have done that either, only I had to. They made me. Lay the blame on '(/icy. 1 It wasn't my fault, indeed. If I had thought for a moment you had tho slightest objection to that sort of - " "Nonsensel don't bo silly; go on," says Miss Beresford, austerely. "AVell, then, I listened patiently to a good deal of raving from Kelly on tho subject of Hcrmia Ilerrick. I don't suppose I should have exhibited its much patience as I did, but for the fact that 1 was wailing on George —my uncle— at the time, and couldn't get away. And after that I listened with even more patience to a perfect farrago of nonsense from our sub-inspector about the would-be assassin, wo have caught, and his fellows; and, besides all this, I thought of you, every moment since last I saw you." "Every moment. Not o?ic neglected?" asks she, smiling. "I'll swear to that too, If you like, I'm In good practice now." "No, no," hastily. "I can believe you without that." lie who watches herwitn remorse-mi eyes can only liken her to n fragile saint, ns she stands there, in her white, ciinsrinffdraprrics. "You nre cruel," she says, nt last, with a low, gaspim; cry. He tails at her feet. "Forgive me, my love, my darling I" he entreats. "I should never have said that, nnd yet 1 nm triad 1 did. To feel, to fcnoio yon nre altogether mine " "You had n doubt?" she says; nnd then two large tears rise Mowly, until her beautiful eyes look jiasMonntb reproach nt him through a heavy mi,-.!. Thon the-mist I'le.irs nnd two shining drops, qutttln-; their sweet horn,', fall upon the bank of the small hand site has ]>l:tcod nervously against her throat, "A last one, ami it is pone forever." Ho Hsrs to his feet. "IM-.tce your arms round my neck nunln," I us says, with anxious entreaty, "nnd let me feel myself forgiven." A smile, ns coy ns It ia tender, curves hor dainty lips, ns site lifts to his two soft, dewy H.ves. in which Ihe light of n first lovo bus n't last bi'en fully kimlle.d. Site comes a slop nearer lo hint, still smiling,—a lovely thing round which tlio moonbeams riot as though in ecstasy over her perfect, fairness,—And (hen in another instant they nre. both In heaven, "in paradiso in 0110 another's arms]'' "Von aro happy?" questions he, nfler a long pause, Int..) which no man may look. "1 nm with I/OH," returns she, softly. "How sweet a meaning lies within your words!' 1 "A trim meaning. But see, how lato it trrows! For a few hours wo must part. Until to-morrow—good-night 1" '•(.inoit-iilght, my life I my sweet, -sweet heart I" says Desmond. TIIK UNI). FARM AND HOME. IIKAUTSBASJU. Al.irB AIIM9TROXO. In n poor cottnge home, rich In good will mid cheer A traveler way resting. The day bleak ami drear Was closing in norm, lotho MrnngtM, tho wvli-otno wns cordial and To tho iruvultr, a rooftreu'wits nc-odeil retn.it From tun pi-ft's n limn. A? lie tnt nenr the fire burning low on the hearth lie listened with plentnru to cliliiliciiV gnui minii In Itmomii play. HI* eye glanrcd nioiiml m tin- deepening gloom, luipit'stud Unit ,;rim poverty heio inauu tit liunie, ini intiM-d no dis,i.ay. As the Iirdlfihl Unshed nilfnlly »p In his face, Hip K'ttui'i' NMII. tiriei-tvd in H't'Ktii^ 10 tract) ...°. f cxpfnmenU to de!*r,nine the fertilizing talno of *reen manures were considered. The fertilizing value rf green crops wns Found to b-3 proportioned to tho readiness with which their nitrogen it changed to nitric ncid. Dried blood and sulphate of ammonia, two nctivc hitro- ponons fertilizers, and a grern growth of lupines trere n«eil ns fertilizers, nnd tlio growths result ing from this fertilization (Oinpared On heavy Foils the lupine proved tiuirli the l>e/t fertilizers, the rta- jM>n for which seems to be that they kept (the soil lighter f.nd looser, allowing a fr»er ciicu'lation of air. On thp light solid, where the air circulates mere freely, the Hilphate ef (iintnoniii proved most effective, and the lupines n. xh. Other nun- ila-- experiment.", in which green alfalfa replaced the lupines, gave re.^nlta which were very favorable to tho "Ifala. „ . . Somo t'lmiucu'if lutlo Neath than|R|I nnmtal ulieif, which Hood boldly In f l«ht. ' Ihls Iei;cmt ho spelled In the dlckerliiK t!»ht JDei-p curved m Hit* \\ood: "When j-o fltle by my fyro to kapo yourself Tnko licile Hint j-ora tongue doo yore nechboro no liurme." ' Qmilnt Mnlnpof pence-) V> ltd thin inotio. tlumgli i-omfims of wealth wer« nnknunn, Tho noxious weeds, Knvy nmt llnte, wet-o not grown, Hut (lowers of lionrls' ease, A lonsoti of worth by Mint humble lienrtbsldo \\«a burned in the tinv. ler'» licurtto ublde, Through storm*of n life — 1 ID tint richer nor pleasures which L-IVO Instliic Joy, " llut A liuuft full of lovn; this cnu free from ntinoy And quiet all strife. Secret* of Ilnppy Wedlock. Respect each other's individuality. Do not try to mould tho other's ideas or principles or manners to tho pattern of your own. Seek to influence each other only by tho power of higher example. By your worthiness and culture make the other proud of you, and do not feel that marriage gives you any right to demand, or dictate, or criticise. Maintain and allow tho same freedom that exists . between good and friends. ! pure you against "You won't let her influence me?" "Nobody could do that." She moves away worn him, and then runs back to him again and lays her arms round his neclc. "You are more to me now than llennla, and Oie worldl" she says, softly. Yet, presently, when she finds herself In Hermla's calm presence, her courage somewhat fails her. It Is not that she for a mo- •aient contemplates the idea of having to give up her lover, but she in afraid of her cousin's cold disparagement of both him and her. ' • "I have Just promised to marry Ullc," she $ays plunging without preface into her story, with a boldness born of nervous excitement 'To marry him I Why, 1 thought you „,„ looked upon Win as a mere boy! Your ,, , I film V ' i »*I" r •baby,' you iw«4 to call him. "Probably th»f Uj why I "With lioiv sad .steps, 0 ration? tUou tho Bk:esl How Elleiuly, nnd with how wan a 1'noe, U'liou 1'rol'st a lover's ciisul I rend It in thy looks; thy liuit/nl-hM rrnce, To me, tlnu 1'iel tho like, thy suite d< series." As she watches the pale moon, Sidney's sad words return to her. Just no\v Diana is rusting in a bath of palest azure, whilst all around her chmds, .silver-tinged, are lying out from her, Iremblhu in mid-air. Great patches of moonlight lie upon the garden sward. One. seems brighter than its fellows, and as her eyes slowly sink from heaven to uanh, they ivst upon il, as though, attracted tiiiconsei<ni.-,ly by its brilliancy. And, even as she looks, a shadow falls athwart il, and the.n, a low, quick cry breaks from her lips, "What is if?' says Kit, scrambling to her knees. • "Only Brian," says Monica, with a hastily- dnuvn breath. A rich color has rushed iir.o her cheeks, her eyes are alight, her lips have curved themselves into a happy smile.. "It's all ri-rlit itow, then, and lean go," says Kit, joyfully. ' Go? To buil, you mean, darling?" "Yes, now I know you are linpyy," says Kit, tenderly; and then the sisters embrace, and presently Monica is a'.aue, but for the shadow in the moonlight. "Is It you, Monica?'' says Brian, coining close beneath her window, and lojklng upward. She leans out to him, her white gown gleaming softly in the moon's rays. "Oh, why venture out at this hour?" site says, nervously. Now he is here,— woman like,— fears for his safety, forgotten before, arise in all their horuu'. 'They may havo followed you; they may - " "Come down to the balcony," he interrupts her, with a light laugh. "1 want to talk to you. Nonsense, dear heart 1 1 am as sale as a church. Who would tone.h me, with an angel like you near to protect Jne 1 . 1 " His shadow, us hu moves away, may aga'n ba s en for an instant, before lis turns the cor-ri-r of the old house; and Mon ca, opening h.T door softly, runs lightly down the corridor and the .staircase, and across the hill and ihe drawing-room floor, until rca"ht's the balcony beyond, when she ttuils. h-s arms awaiting licr. i "Did you hear about your Hyde?" asks Desmond, suddenly. . " "I disclaim' tlie possession," says Monica. "But what of him! 1 " "He has boon ordered, with his regiment, to Egypt, to light Arabl, where I hope ho will be shot. 'And the 30th aro coming in bis place." "llow can you say such shocking things?" "Is it shocking to say tlio 80th are coming to Clonbree?" "No, but what you said about Mr. Hyde."" "Oh, that! Well, i Ijope, then, if tjiey don't knock thu life they will knock the conceit and the-superfluous/fcv/t out of him; will that do'. 1 " • "Very badly.. Ho was a horrid man in many ways, but hu did you no harm." "He dared to look at yon." "Tho cat may look at tho king." "Hut the cat may not look at my queen. So now, madame, what havo yon to say?" "Well, never mind, then; tell mo about llermia. So Mr. Kully is engaged to her?" "Yes. lie. has just discovered her lo ba tho most superior as well as-the lovelie.4 woman upon earth. Ho tola ma so, i von- tnred mildly but firmly lo differ with him ami enter a protest on your behalf, but, ho wouldn't hear of it. In his opinion you aro nowhere beside tlio majestic Jlunnia." "i know that, He is right," says Monica, meekly; But there is n reproachful question in-her e,yi:s, as she says it, that contradicts the nicukiiHss. "lie Is not," say's Desmond, with loving indignation, pressing her dear little, head so clo.-e against his heart .that she can hear it throbbing bravely ami can find joy in the thought that each separate throb is all her own. "The man who thinks so nuut b« insane. A lif>; for llermia. Whcro would sliu beif'iilaccd besiilu you, my Helen fair beyond compare?" > "You aro prejudiced; you toll too flattering a tale," says .Monica, with soft d'spar- agenieut; but'the fond, foolish, lover-like- words aro very dear and Kweet toher, ail the. same. Hf has his arms round her; in her tender, childish Cushion she has'laid her chunk ngsiinst Ills; and now, with a slow movement, she turns h;n- head unt ; l her lipsrcaoli his. '•I love yon," she whispers. Almost in.a sigh the words are breathed, and a sense of rupiuru—of completion—renders the, young man for the instant mute. Yet in her soul so well site know.sof his con- tout that .she cares littlu for any answer savo that whlfih his fond oyus give. A bicalh from the sleeping world of flow- ors below conic-s up to the balcony and bathes tho lovers in its sweets. Tliu "wandering mooji" looks down upon them, and lights, tip the dark windows behind them, till they look like burnished silver. A deadly fcilunc-u lies on grass and bough; it skeins to them as thnn.'h, of all thu eager world, they two only aro awakti, and alone I "Do 1 count with yon, then, as more, than nil?" 1m says, at length;''than Terence or than Kit?" "You know it," she says, earnestly. Suddenly he loosens his arms from round lier, and, pushing hor slender, white-robed [i,'iiru gently backward, gazes seurchlngly int > her culm but wondering face. "Tell mi-," 1m says,— somo mad, Inward craving drlvim; him 10 ask the needless ques- ~,lun.—"liow would it have been w.th you if 1 had been killed yesterday? Would you In ime have loved again?" I am not sure, hut I think be would havo recalled the words when it is too late. A quiver rnns through the girl's frame; a great ivave of emotion sweeping over her face .ransflgunw it changing Its calm to quick ana Jiving grief. The moonbeams, catching fpl4a bet 1« flood^ c;f palest glory, until Never ask personal questions hor seek explanations, for you are not a hundreth part as .responsible for each other as you aroapt to imagine. Let your love bo founded in admiration and friendship. Strive to correct your own faults and study to make the other happy, and be exceedingly careful that you never re- verfle this rule. Keep your most refined and gentle manner tor the home. Never refer to a mistake that was made with ffood intentions. When a wrong is pardoned bury it in oblivion.. Consider the other's honor you own nnd shield each other's weaknepsej with sacred jealousy. Kemember that ill-torn per nearly always comes of disappointment or over work or physical suffering. Treat each other as courteously in private.as you treat your friends in the drawing-room. 1 Never allow intimacy to become familiarity. lio rivals in generosity and let misunderstandings die for want of words. Consider marriage as tho partnership of equals. Share the joys and sorrows of life, its toils and profits, as equal partners should. —Detroit Free Press. MAHONEY'S mtlNIJLE COW. How Ho Killed Iimtcuil of [Curing IIIn Champion Cow. ".Say, I'm the dumbest fool outside of Ganady. Jest lift me one for luck will ye?" said old Farmer Mahoney as he climbed horn his wagon at tho corner of btato street and Woodward avenue and backed up to a patrolman, holding his coat tails upoit. "Lam it to mo, I'm a too/." "What's tho matter with you, old man?" asked the officer politely. "I'm a fool, I tell ye." "HowsoV" '' Yo » k «ow that brindle cow o' mine? Nob Well, she is the best cow in Wayne county. Leastways she was yesterday. This mornin' 1 went out to feed fhe pt.ock, and who.** do found?" '•1 can't even guesa." dr~; ' "Why, of course not. Well, sir, you may shear me for a sheep at a ehillin 1 a pound if that there brindle cow wa n't a layin' oy the bran with her leg through the bridge, broke." "What, the cow's leg?" "Naw, the bridge. What do you think J did?" "I couldn't Hay." "Well, sir. it came into my head that ] could get that there cow up onto her legs by h'Btin'with the hay tackle. I got "a rope around her, put it through the block in the gable o' the barn, hitched a horse onto the other end and there I was, the all- FA KM NOTKS. Sheep aro said to bo better than hogs for tho purpose of picking up the ivindfi,lln in (ho orchard, that is, if the trunks of tho trees aro protected by wire screens. Slrawberries need some, protection, not so tjiuo'li to keep out tho cold as to prevent frequent freezing and thawing, which leaves tho roots exposed or breaks them. Allowing cows giving milk to stay out in wind, or storm, or to start too early in the morning.,or stay too lato at evening is injurious and reduces the (low of milk and probably lowers tho tost. When cuttlings are beinsr rooted by amateurs _ in Hinall tin or J|onrlhen vessels placed in sunny windows, tho process can be forwarded by painting tho receptacle black, tho color absorbing tho heat and imparting it to the sand or earth, thus facilitating tho starting of roots. One of tho reason; why people Urn' try to raise poultry on n largo scale fail ij their undertakings is because they try to carry on tho business on too littlo capital. Small flocks may be kept without any outlay except for the fowls themselves, but this rule does not hold good with tho largo flocks. l r oodlug Colin. Let tho colfc learn to eat oats with tint mare. The mare may bo fed two or three quarts twice a day and bran threo or four times a" week extra. It is a good idea to force tho early growth of the colt, and by feeding a little grain its value will bo certainly enhanced. Planting nn Orchard, When planting an apple orchard select land that is high, dry and open to a good circulation of air. Then the'buds will not develop as soon in spring, and thus will escape tho disastrous efforts of late fronts. An orchard so situated and well cultivated should not havo any oh* years, but should produce a regular Buccession of good crops. The following nirthnd of protect ing rnsp- berric-s throuurh tho winter is roc.-r.nimend- ed by .1. M. Smith, pre.-iilent of (lit) Wisconsin lloriicullurnl society. In tho full, an.ii befoip ground freezes, they should ho hud down and covered with e.irth. In covering, one man hikes a hoe or a common four-tiiied potato fork, and dig* iut some of the. earth upon the side of tho plant: (hen another follows and bends tho plant over toward llntt sidi. until it lies nearly flat upon tho ground; another follows ami throws a shovelful of mirth upon the tips of the p'nnts to hold them in place, after which they tiro all covered one inch in depth. When danger from freezing ia over in tho spring, they aru uncovered and raided up ar near their own position as ia suitably convenient and then tho earth is again replaced where it was taken from in (he fall. Then put on a dressing of manure or ashes and cultivate well and thoroughly. All weeds and grass that grow in the rows intmt of course be destroyed with tho hoe. You will not'gut asfull a crop tho second season IIH you will of tttraw- berrtCK, hut .you will get some nice fruit. AH soon as you aro dono picking tho fruit, go through and] cut out all tho old canes, also tho weak growth, leaving only .1 „„. to have u good crop of fruit tho following season. After thin is dono, go through with a piur of largo shears and cut off tho tops, leaving tho canes about four feet high. Tim red varieties propagate by Buckors, surplus of which must of courao bo destroyed tho name iw any other weed*. I ho bliick-caps propnimto from the tips of their branches. Should you need now sets, bond over some of tho branches o£ tho slrong thrifty canot-, and throw sufficient earth upon tho tips to hold thorn in place, when they tako root. ones of tho now stilhYicnt number vou ProgroHH In Vanning. Every utterance of tho public press points toward great and continued future prosperity. "Wo arj too apt to forget," says the Manufacturers record, "the soundness of America's vast progress. Tho United States is, today, iilmotit tho only country in the world whose future is brighter that its past," and in this outlook there are none who stand upon a sounder basis for future prosperity than the American farmer. TJIK TriuiHHIou*. WII.I.1AU C. IIICIIAIIDS. A narrow river yet to croxs — Thmi |ireat KIUII for little IOKH; l-lfi''» fruition (matched front (loath, KullnenH ot ulli<« train Iliiutiiin drouth; Hln, L'XchniiKi'd for HlnluHHitucH, I'l-iicu beyond Uimptitilon'H flnnm; Jtont, which loll no morn i-hall mar, O'ur night's noon IWUVUU'H morning star. For ill in Hlghl, unclouded vlclon, hiirihccujion inur|;oil In UHiU lilynlun; WmipliiL' eye« In r .pluru'dry, llrualli thill cannot Hlianu a clch: Hweelnesn with no bluer ulenl, ViilU from purfuct kmiwlmljrii rent; I'liliioiHiod'H n link iraiiHfonnod to truth! lininoruil youth. I Cheap Horned. The French government, in order to encourage horse breeding, buys the best stallions and charges a fee of perhaps $3 for their service. While no national interference with the enterprise of those who are ::engagod in breedim? and standing good borecB is desirable in this country, there is one regulation that might bo adopted by tho state authorities, and that is to prevent unsound and worthless ntall- ions from doing business. In this country a service fee no higher than twice that exacted by thb French goyfrnment ia generally a mark of an inferior horse. Such horses get poor colts, and you will them chenp. — National Stockman. noil ever kid eyes on n your That looks to me like a I tiredst fool yo born duyi." ''1 don't see ic. scnmWuKcheme.V "Can't seo it? Gosh all hemlock! Ian. What in Sam Hill do you K'I happened then? What could happen? „ sucldn' baby ought to know better." "Whatdid happen?" "Happen? Why the-tninuto I started the. horse that there cow commenced to b^ 1 an 1 belter an' tho horee heiun and yanked the cow clean up to tho peak o' the burn and then the rope, broke an' down she cum thirty-two feet in the clear an' brok4 her neck. She's dcuder'n a door nail an' J hain't been able to get within gunshot of the horse since. He's a ramin' around all over the litick lot<, actin' a« if he thought the day of judgment had come."--Detroit News. Scientists claim that the first appearance tf the North American continent above the waters was in a small angular eection, extending from the Great Lakes northeast to Labrador, and northwest to the Arctic ocean. The distance of the horizon is governed by tho height of the eye above the earth or Bti&. On the sea, with the eyo at a height of five feet, the distance would be three miles; at sixty feet in height, ten railee. Thi air in aduiitted to the interior of a leaf through minute openings or mouthb. which generally exist in great numbers. Thus up;n an ordinary apple leaf there may bo found as many an one hundred thousand of thepe openings. Porui,AK opinion agrees that when that Minneapolis jury awarded Ignatius Donnelly one dollar damagee it simply wanted The Jarm'.y for Itlch Alllu. Those who desire very rich milk for table and domestic UHO find nothing that can compete with tho Jersey product in that respect. So well is thin fact established that a new branch of special dairying has opened up in some of the eastern ciliex. In New York u well known Jersey fancier has Htarled a.place for the sale of his pure Jer- *ey millc exdjsivoly, and ia galling fifteen cents per quart for all that ho can furni«h This is another argument in favor of special purpose, stock. Shade Tre«», Plenty of shade trees about tho farmhouse and Iho homo grounds urn essential both to beauty and oumfort. In 'xummer they give shelter from the burning mm, und in winter from the cutting winds. 'Ihoy should, however, not be too densely grouped close about the bouse, an fhen they cause dumpnets. Plant judiciously, but plant, and plant now, for anything is better than bare grounds. If you chance to get the trees in too thickly, a part may be easily removed when they havo grown la<-g&r, and HO shown that they aro not needed. Dlvnpliolntinontnt 1111 end, Ko« nn iiioru In Kiilfii of friend; DIVHIIIH that mull nut Into limrn, Knltli Itiiyond HIM IIHHUII|I of fcunj. t Ni'ud, II'HII to IIH inline unknown, All iHC'lirlmV nnd chriitl my own; And lioyoiid di'inli'M narrow rlvor—• Llto and luvo uml Joy loruvc-rl Clear and round dealing ia tho honor of man s nature.—Lord Bacon. The highest of all possessions ia that of sclf'-hfilp.— Carlyslo. Tho best way to avengo thyself is not to become like a wrong-door.—Marcus Aureliu*. Tho real man is one who always finds excuses for others, but never excusod hiin- Bolf.—BeecJior. People don't change their nature; but they change their desires, their ideal, their effort.—-ilenry James. In sickness lot us not so much say, am I getting better of my pain? as am I getting better for it.—Shakespeare, Sir Robert Peel said ho never knew a man to escape failures, cither in mind or body, who worked seven days in the week. Good M'orilH. Good word* aro words of sincerity, charity, encouragement, and sometimes of reproof and robukn. If true and fitly spoken they are good, and will have their misBiod of uBefulness. Good words are never lost, but may return with a double blowing. They aro good alike to him who speaks and him who hears. ChorlKh Your Girlhood. Duar girls, don't bo BO often wishing you wore grown-up women neglect your girlhood. In How to Ki'J»y Farm Mfe. Farming has both advantages and disadvantages when compared with of bar lines of work and conditions of life, aud, like other things, is very much what we each make it. If we are successful we generally enjoy farm life and farm work, and if not successful we took about for some other i>ccupation, but in this case we lose sight of tho fuct that it is business ability and qualifications only (bat can compel success anywhere, and if we have these, and could apply them to that end apywhere, we can very likely do it on the furm. Nothing pujs unless good management is applied, ana that probably brings as good an average of success in agriculture as eUewbere. Qr*«o Mauurea. young 1 joyous, Woman- that you will the rush and hurry of these fast times, there is danger that you will roach and strain after ladyhood" loo much. Ba girls a while yet; tender, loving, obedient and industrious. hood, with its privileges and power, its burdens and its trials will corne soon enonifh. On this point, one has said: "Wait patiently, my children, through !h« whole limit of your girlhood. Go not lifter woniunood; let ir, come to you, Keep out of public viu A . Cultivate 'refinement uwd modi nty. The cares and rLsponMUii- 1 ties of lifo will come noon enough. When fiey come, jou will meet, them, I trust, as truu women should. Hut, ob, be not so uiiwue as lo throw away your girlhood. Hob not yourself of this beautiful season, I« m experiment stati°9 record, the re- of. Life.' which, wi-i ly spent, will brighten all your future life." What t.i l>o. An exchange, says that children should be taught what lo do in cane of "inergHn- ciea which are quite likely to happen, and then instuucuc ; _"A few >earn itgo, in a school, a young gill tainted and fell to the floor, in u moment the teacher Iwl raised her to a Bitting posture, and we frightened children crowded around hrr, wringing our hand* and crying. We thought she waa dead; but in tho midst of the confusion a young girl of a dozen years dime to the rescue, by Blretchiug the unconscious gi>-| Hut upon her back, in n quiet, firm voice she Hind: 'Sarah h«8 only fainted, and you must stand back and give her air." Instantly the circle around her widened, the windows were thrown open, the compression about thecbett was removed, and in a few lain- u*>-s the young girl WHB hem'lf again. 'Who taugbt you to act BO promptly? 1 Jo» quired the teacher, when quiet waa restored. 'My mother,' was the wswer.—L,amj»

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