The Algona Upper Des Moines from Algona, Iowa on December 23, 1891 · Page 5
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The Algona Upper Des Moines from Algona, Iowa · Page 5

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Wednesday, December 23, 1891
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THE UPPER t)ES MOlNES, ALGONA, IOWA, WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 23, 1891. lOVE'S VICTORY. JMT BEBTHA It. OLAT. CHAPTEH XIV. • SfiEACH BETWEEN t'KfctE A&D JOECE. * A'few days later the! tnnqullity of Darrcll Court was at an end. The invited guests were-expected, and Sir Oswald had cleter- mlned to do them all honor. The state- apartments, which had not been used during , his tenure, were all thrown open; the superb ballroom, once the pride of the county, was ie-decorated: the long, empty corridors arid Suites of apartments reserved for visitors, 1 vrett once more full of life. Miss Hftsttngs was tho presiding genius; Pauline Darrell took far less interest in the preparations. j "1 am glad," she bttld one morning, "that 1 Bin to See your 'world,' Sir Oswald. You despise mine; I shall bo anxious to see what yours is like." The baronet answered her testily: "I do Mot quite understand .your remarks about 'worlds.' Surely wo live under the same conditions.'" "Not in the same world of people," she opposed; "and I am anxious to sec what yours Is like." "What do you expect to find in what you ftre pleased to call my world, Pauline?" lie asked, angrily. "Little truth, and plenty of nffectntton; little honor, and plenty of polish; little honesty,' and very high, sounding words; little sincerity, and plenty of deceit." "By what right.do you sit In judgment?" he demanded. "None at all," replied Pauline; "but as people are always speaking ill of the clear, honest world in which I have lived, I may surely be permitted to criticise the world that Is Qjutslde it?' £jiv Oswald turned away angrily; and Miss I&iatlhgs sighed over tno girl's willfulness, li^feiy do you talk to Sir Oswald in a i'nsh- .. Ion that always Irritates hlinV" sho remon- vWrnted. -'i.:K : -'-. Wo live In a free country, and have each freedom of speech." ,'I am afraid the day will come when you 11 pay a'sadjprice for yours." J3ut Pauline Dan-oil only laughed. Such rrs never affected her; sho would sooner /e expected to see the heavens fall at her -Jt than that Sir Oswald should not leave Darrell Court to 'her—his niece, a Darrell, with, the Darrell face and the Darrell figure, the true, proud features of the race. He , would never dare to do otherwise, she . thought, and she would not condescend to change either her thought or speech to please him. "The Darrells do not know fear," she would say; "there never yet was an example of a Darrell being frightened into anything." So the breach between the uncle and the niece grew wider every day. He could not understand her; the grand, untrained, undisciplined, poetical nntnrowas beyond him— ho could neither reach it heights, nor fathom Its depths. There were times when bethought that, despite -her outward coldness and pride, there was within a soul of lire, when he dimly understood the magnificence of the character .he could not read, when he suspected there might be sonic souls that coulcl not be narrowed or forced into a common groove. Nevertheless lie feared her; he was afraid to trust, not the honor, but the fame of his race to her. "She is capable of anything," ho would repeat to himself again and again. "She would fling .the Darrell revenues to the wind; sho wjould transform Darrell Court into one huge jjCjisfi-vatory, if astronomy pleased her—into ¥04* huge laboratory, if sho gave herself to chemistry. One thing is perfectly clear to n^-sho can never bo my heiress until she is safely married." And, after great- deliberation—after listening to nil his heart's pleading in favor of her grace, hor beauty, her royal generosity of character, the claim of IKT name and her truth, he came to tho decision that if she ' rould marry Captain Langton, whom he levied perhaps bettor t|ian any one else in the Id, he would at once make his will, adopt and leave her heiress of all that ho had In the world. One morning the cnpt-.iin confided In him, telling him how dearly h;j loved his beautiful niece, and then Sir Oswald revealed his intentions. "Tou understand, Aubrey," he said—"tho girl is magnificently beautiful—she is a true Darrell; but 1 am frightened about her. She is not like other girls; sho is wanting in tact, In knowledge of the world, and both are essential, I hope you will win her. I shall die content if I leave Darrell Court In your hands, and if you are her husband. I could not pass her over to make her my heir; but If you can persuade her to marry you, you can take the name of Darrell, and you can guide nnd direct her. What do you say, Aubrey'i"' "What do I say?'' stammered the captain. "I say tills—that I love her so dearly that 1 would marry her if she had not a farthing. I love her so that language cannot express the depth of my ait'cction for her." The captain was,for a few minutes quite overcome—he had been so long dunned for jnouey, so hardly pressed, so desperate, that " ip chance of twenty thousand a year and rrell Court was almost too much for him. F s brow grow damp, and his lips pale. All Is migjjt bj Jiis own if he could but win consent of this girl. Yet he feared her; proud, noble face, tho grand, dark, eyes rose'before him, and seemed to rebuke him for his presumptuous hope. How was he to win her? Flattery, sweet, soft words would peverdo It. One scornful look from her sent his ideas "flying right and left." "If she were only like other girls," he thought, "I could make her my wife in a few weeks," • Then he took heart of grace. Had he not been celebrated for his good fortune among the fair sex? Had he not always found his handsome person, his low, tender voice, his pleasing manner irresistible? Who was this proud, dark-eyed girl that she should measure the'depths of his heart and soul, and find them wanting? Surely he must be superior to the artists in shabby coats by whom she had been surrounded. And yet ho feared as much as he hoped. "She has such a-way of making me feel small," he said to himself; "and if that kind of feeling comes over me when I am making her an offer, it will be of no use to plead my suit." But what a prospects-master of Darrell Court and twenty thousand per annum! He would endure almost any humiliation to obtain that position. »'She must have me," he said to himself— "she shall have me I I will force her to be my wife ! v ' 1 Why, if he could but announce his engagement to Miss Du'frell, he could borrow as much money as \i mid clear off all his liablll- And how I inch he needed money no 19 knew better trian himself. Ho had paid visit to the Court because there were two \vrits out against him in London, and, unless ho could coino to some settlement of them he knew what awaited him. ..|U—fortune, happiness, wealth, free, donij prosperity—depended on one word frpm tho proud lips that had hardly ever spoken kindly to him. He loved her, too- loved her with a liprci', desperate lovo that at times frightened hlmsulf. "1 should like you," said Sir Oswald, ftt the conclusion of their interview, "to have the matter settled as soon as yon can; because, I tell yon, frankly, if my niece does not consent to mnrry you, 1 shall marry myself. All my friends are eagerly solicitous for me to do so; they do not like the prospect of seeing a grand old inheritance like this fall into the hands of a willful, capricious girl. But I toll you in confidence, Aubrey, 1 do not wish to marry. 1 am a confirmed old bachelor now, and it would be n sad trox\ble to me to have my lifo changed by marriage. Still I Would rather marry than that harm should come to Darrell Court" "Certainly," agreed the captain. "I do not mind telling you still further that I have seen a lady whom, if I marry at all, I should like to make my wife—In fact, she resembles some one 1 used to know long years ago. I have every reason to believe she Is much admired and sought after; so that I want you to settle your affairs as speedily as possible. Mind, Aubrey, they must bo settled—there must be no deferring, no putting off; you must have an answer—yes or no— very shortly; and you must not loso an hour in communicating that answer to me." "I hope It will be a favorable one," said Aubrey Latisrlon; but his mind misgave him. He had an idea that the girl had found him wanting; he could not forget her first I'rank declaration that she did not like him. "If she refuses me, have 1 your permission to tell Miss Darrell the alternative?" ho asked of Sir Oswald. The baronet thought deeply for some minutes, and then said,— "Yes; it is only fair and just that she should know it—that she should learn tUat if she refuses you she loses all chance of being my heiress. But do not say anything of tho lady I have mentioned." Tho visitors were coining on Tuesday, and Thursday was tho clay settled for the ball. "All girls like balls," thought Captain Langton. "Paulino is sure to bo in a good temper then, and I will ask her on Thursday night" But ho owned to himself that ho would rather a thousand times have faced a whole battalion of enemies than ask Paulino Dar- reli to be his wife. ClIAl'TKll XV. THE (JUKKX OF TIIK nAT<L. It was many years since Darrell Court had been so gay. Sir Oswald had resolved that the ball should be one that should reflect credit on tho giver and tho guests. Ho had ordered a fine band of music and a magnificent banquet. The grounds were to bo illuminated, colored lamps being placed among the trees; the ballroom was a gorgeous mass of brilliant bloom—tier after tier of magnificent flowers was ranged along tho walls, white statues gloaming from the bright foliage, and little fountains hero and there sending up their fragrant spray. Sir Oswald had sent to London for some one to superintend the decorations; but they were not perfected until Miss Darrell, passing throuirli, suggested lirst one alteration, and then another, until the originators, recognizing her superior artistic judgment and picturesque taste, deferred to her, and then tho decorations became a magnificent work of art. Sir Oswald declared himself delighted, and the captain's praises wore unmeasured. Then, and then only, Miss Darrell began to feel some interest in tho ball; her love of beauty was awakened and pleased—there was something more in the event than the mere gratification of seeing people dance. Tho cxpectotl visitors had arrived on tho Tuesday—Lady Hampton, radiant with expected victory; Elinor, silent, thoughtful, and more gentle than ever, and consequently more pleasing. Lady Hampton was delighted with the idea of the ball. "Yon must make a bold stroke for a husband on that evening, Elinor," she said. "You shall Iwvo a superb dross, and I shall quite expect you to receive and accept an offer from Kir Oswald." Elinor liwlu-iord raised her eyes. There was something wistful in their expression. "Oh, aunt," she said, "i like the captain so much better!" Lady Hampton did not Io 4 so her good humor—Elinor was not the first refractory girl she had brought to her senses. "Nevermind about liking the captain, my dear; that is only natural. He is not in lovo with you. I can see through the whole business. If Daircll Court goes to Miss Darrell, he will marry her. Ho can marry no girl without money, because ho is, I know, over head and oars in debt. Major Penryn was speaking of him to-day. Tho only way to prevent his marriage with Miss Darrell is for you to take Sir Oswald yourself." Elinor's face flushed. Lady Hampton certainly understood the art of evoking tho worst feelings. Jealousy, envy, and dislike stirred faintly in tho gentle heart of her niece. "1 hope you will do your very best to win Sir Oswald's affections," continued Lady Hampton, "for i should not like to see Darrell Court fall into the hands of that proud girl." "Nor should I," assented Miss Eonheford. Tho evening of the ball arrived at last, and Lady Hampton stood like a fairy godmother In Elinor's dressing-room, superintending tho toilet that was to work such wonders. Lady Hampton herself looked very imposing in her handsome dress of black velvet and point lace, with diamond ornaments. Elinor's dress was a triumph of art Her fresh, fair, gentle loveliness shone t'.» perfection, aided by her elaborate costume of white silk and white lace, trimmed with green and silver leaves. The ornaments were all of silver—both fringe and leaves; the head-dress was a green wreath with silver flowers. Nothing could liavo been more elegant and effective. There was a gentle Hush on the fair face and a light in tho blue eyes. "That will do, Elinor," said Lady Hampton, complacently. "Your dross is perfection. I have no fear now—you will have no rival." Perhaps Lady Hampton had never disliked Pauline Darrell more than on that night, for the magnificent beauty of the girl had never been so apparent. Sir Oswald had given his niece carte blandie in respect to preparation for the ball, but she had not at first taken sufficient interest in the matter to send to London, as ho wished, for a dress. Later on she had gone to the large wardrobe, where, tho treasures accumulated by the Ladies Darrell lay. -Such-shining treasures of satin, velvet, silk, cashmere, and such profusion of laces and ornaments were there I She selected a superb costume—a magnificent amber brocade, embroidered with white flowers, gorgeous, beautiful, artistic. It was a dress that had been made for some former Lady Darrell. How well it became her! The amber set off her dark beauty as a golden frame does a rich picture. The dress required but little alteration; it was cut square, showing the white, stately, graceful neck, and the sleeves hung after the Grecian fashion, leaving the round white arms bare. The light shining upon the dress changed with every movement; it was as though the girl was enveloped in sunbeams. Every lady present envied that dress, and pronounced it to be gorgeous beyond comparison. Pauline's rich curls of dark hair wore studded with diamond stars,' and a diamond necklace clasped her white throat-thls was Sir Oswald's present Her imistic taste naa found yet further scope; for she had enhanced the beaiity of her dress by the addl- fion of white daphnes shrouded in green leaves. t ...... Sir Oswald looked at her In. admiration— her magnificent beauty, her queenly figure, her royal grace and ease of movement, her splendid costume, all impressed him. From every fold of her shining dress on mo a rich, sweet, subtle perfume; hor usually pale face had on it an unwonted flush of delicate rose- le&f color. "If she would but bo like that, sweet Elinor I" thought Sir Oswald, "I could not wish fora more beautiful mistress for Dai-rell Court" She stood-by his side while ho received his guests, and her dignified ease delighted him. "Had she been 'some Eastern queen," ho thought, "her eccentricities would have hurt no one. As it Is— r-" and Sir Oswald concluded his sentence by a grave shake of the head. The captain, pleased with Miss Koche- ford's graceful loveliness, had been amusing himself by paying her some very choice compliments, and she was delighted with them. "If Sir Oswald were only like him!" she thought; and Aubrey Langton, meeting the timid, gentle glance, said to himself that he must bo careful — ho had no wisli to win the girl's heart— ho should bo quite at a loss to know what to do with it When lie saw Paulino his courage almost failed him. "How am I to ask that magnificent girl to marry mo?" ho said. Sir Oswald had expressed a wish that Aubrey and Paulino would open tho ball; It would give people an idea of what he wished, ho thought, and prevent other gentlemen from "turning her head" by paying her any marked attention. Yet ho know how difficult it would bo for any one to win Paulino's regard. She made no objection when ho expressed his wish to her, but slio did not look particularly pleased. Captain Langton understood the art of dancing bettor perhaps than tho art of war; he was perfect In it— oven Paulino avowed it With him dancing was tho very poetry of motion. Tlie flowers, the lights, tho sweet, soft music, the fragance, the silvery sound of laughter, the fair faces and shining jewels of tho ladies, all stirred and warmed Paulino's imagination; tlu'.v brought bright and vivid fancies to her, and touched tho poetical beauty-loving soul. A glow caino over her face, a light into her proud, dark eyes, her lips were wreathed in smiles— no ono had over seen Paulino so beautiful before. "You enjoy this, do you not?" said Aubrey Langton. as lie watched hor beautiful face. "I shall do so," sho replied, "very much indeed;" and at what those words Implied the captain's courage fell to zero. Ho saw how many admiring eyes followed her; ho knew that all tho gentlemen In the room were envying him in his position with Miss Darrell. He knew that, pretty as some of the girls wore, Pauline outshone them as tho sun outshines tho stars; and he know that sho was queen of the/eJe — queen of tho ball. "This is the first time you have met many of the county people, is it not?" ho askod. Sho looked round indifferently. "Yes, it is tho lirst time," she replied. "Do you admire any of the men? I know how different your tasto is from that of most girls. Is there any one hero who has pleased you?" Sho laughed. "I cannot'tell," sho answered; "you forgot this Is tho first dance. I have had no opportunity of judging." "I believe that I am jealous already," he observed. She looked at him; her dark oyos mado his heart beat, they seemed to look through him. "You aro what?" she asked. "Captain Langton, I do not understand." Ho dared not repeat the words. "1 wish," lie said, with a deep sigh, "that I had all the talent and all tho wealth in tho world." "For what reason?" sho inquired. "Because you would care for mo then." •'Because of your talent and wealth!" sho exclaimed. "No, that I should not" "But 1 thought you admired talent so much," he said, in surprise. "Sol do; but mere talent would never command my respect, nor mere wealth." "The two together might," ho suggested. "No. You would not understand me, Captain Langton, were I to explain. Now this dance is over, and I heard you outrage Miss Rocheford for the next" "And you," ho said, gloomily— "what are you going to do?" "To enjoy myself," sho replied; and, from tho manner in which her face brightened when ho left her, the captain feared she was pleased to bo quite rid of him. XVI. PAULINE'S BBIOHT FANCIES, The ball at Darrell Court was a brilliant success. Sir Oswald was delighted, Lady Hampton complimented him so highly. "This is juntas it ought to bo, Sir Oswald," she said. "One who can give such entertainments as th,ls should not think of retiring from a world he is so well qualified to adorn. Confess, now, that under tho influence of that music you could dance yourself." Sir Oswald laughed. "i must plead guilty," ho said. "How beautiful Miss Rocheford looks to-night I" "It is well for you, Sir Oswald, that you have not heard all the compliments that the dear child has lavished on you; they would have made you vain." Sir Oswald's face brightened with pleasure. "Is your niece pleased 1 ? I am very glad indeed. It was more to give her pleasure than from any other motive that I gave the ball." "Then you have succeeded perfectly. Now, Sir Oswald, do you not see that what I said was true— that an establishment like tills requires a mistress? Darrell Court always Jed the hospitalities of the county. It is only sinco no lady lias lived here that it has fallen into the background." "it shall bo in the background no longer," said Sir Oswald. "I think my first ball is a very successful one. How happy evorybod y looks!" But of all that brilliant company, Paulino Darrell was quc.cn. There were men present who would have given anything for one smile from her lips. They admired her.tliey thought her beautiful boyond compursion, but they did not feel quite at ease with her. She was somewhat boyond them; they did not understand her. She did not blush, ami glow, 'and smite when they said pretty tilings to her. When they gave her their most brilliant small-talk, .she had nothing to give them in return. A soul quite different from theirs looked at them out of her dark, proud eyes. They said to themselves that sho was very beautiful, but that she required softening, and that something lovable and . tender was wanting in her. Sho was a queen to ho worshiped, an empress to receive all homngo, but not a woman to be loved. So they thought who were not even capable of judging suuh capacity for love as hers. She was also not popular with the ladies. They thought her very superb; they admired her magnificent dress; but they pronounced her proud and reserved. They said she gave herself airs, that she took no pains to make fj-iends: and ihev did not anticipate any very great rejoicings when Darrell Court should belong to her. The elder ladies pronounced that Judgment on her; the younger ones shrank abashed, and were slightly timid In her presence. Sir Oswald, it was noticed, led Miss Rocheford in to supper, nnd seemed to pay her very great attention. Some of the Indies made observations, but others said it was all nonsense; if Sir Oswald had over Intended to marry, ho would have married years ngo, nnd hts'choleo would have fallen on a lady of mature ngc, not on n slight, slender girl. Besides— nnd who could find nn answer to such nn argument?— was It not settled that Miss Darrell wns to bo his heiress? There was no doubt nbout thnt. That baronet's great affection for Aubrey Lnngton was nlso known. More than ono of the guests present guessed at the nrraiigc- mimt mado, and said that in all probability Miss Dan-ell would marry tho cnptnln, and that they would have the Court after Sir Oswald's death. The banquet wns certainly a mngnilii-ont OUP. Tho guests did full justice to th« costly wines, the rare nnd beautiful fruits, tho rccfirre/ic dishes prepared with so much skill nnd labor. When supper was ended, tho dniiccrs returned to the ballroom, but Miss Diirrcll was already rather weary of it nil. Sho stole away (luring tho first dance after supper. Tho lamps wore lighted in tho conservatory, and shed a soft-, pearly light over the fragrant flowers; the great glass doors at the end were open, nnd beyond lay the moonlight, soft, sweet, and silvery, steeping the flowers, tho trees, and the long grass in Its mild light. Without, all was so calm, so still; there wns the evening sky wJJIi Its myriad stars, so calm and so seretfi 1 '; close to the doors stood great sheaves of white lilies, nnd just inside was a nest of fragrant daph- nes and jessamines. Paulino stood lost in tU'll.uht: Ihe perfume so 'ined to llotit in from the moonlight and infold her. This quiet, holy, tranquil bounty touched her heart us the splendorol' tho ballroom could not; her soul grew calm and still; she seemed nearer happiness limn she had over been before. "How beautiful the world Is I" sho thought. Sho raised her face, so serenely placid and fair in the moonlight; the, silver radiance Tell upon it, adding nil that was needed to make it perfect, n blended softness and tenderness. Tho gorgeous, golden-hued dress falling around her, iclistened, gleamed, nnd glowed ; her diamonds shone like ll-uues. No nrlisi ever dreamed of a fniroi plcturo t!mn fds girl in the midst of the moonlight aiul the flowers. Bright fancies thronged her mind. She thought of tho time when she should bo mistress of that rich domain. No mercenary delight made her heart thrill; it, was not the prospect of being rich thnt- delighted her; it \v;is a nobler pride— duliiiht. in the grand old homo where heroes had lived and died, onm- c.st thoughts of how she would care for it, how she would love it as some living thing when it should he hor own. Her own! Verily her lines were east in pleasant places! She dreamed great things —of tho worthy deeds sho would do, of the noble charities she would carry out, the magnificent designs sho would bring to nuitiirily when D.-.rruil. Court .should be hers, (To be continued, ) •HIE Cream Cooklox. One tea cup of sour cream, one of sufjar and a toasooonful of soda, season with nutmeg, mix soft rcll thin, and bake in a hot oven. Cranberry Jelly. Wash one quart of cranberries and put them in a stewpan with ono pint of sugar and ono cupful of water. Cook them carefully for fifteen minuses; then strain and press through a sievf. Boat tho strained cranberry until smonh, and pour into a smooth, and pour into a mold that has been rinsed with cold water. Sot in a cold place to harden. linked Apple Dumpllngi. Select tart apples of medium size, peel and core. Make crust as for nice tea biscuit, roll out in succession piece after pieca large enough to inclose an apple; pinch the corners closely together, and lay in a greased pan set in the oven, Bake, not too fast, until the apple is soft. To bo eaten hot with butter and sugar rubbed together and flavored to taste; or with a hot sauce if preferrsd. Sandwich Cuke. Mix three eggs well beaten with a quarter of a pound of butter, an ounce and a half of castor-_nugar, half a pound of flour, and a little milk. Beat the whole for ten minutes. Butter four pudding-plates, and pour the mixture, equally divided, upon them. Bake aoout half an hour. Spread three sandwiches with raspberry jam, and lay one on the top of another. Sift pounded loaf sugar over the top one, which is not spread with jam, and divide in eighths from top to bottom before serving. Mince Meat. One and one-half pounds of meat—after it is boiled—chopped fine, one and one- half pounds of suet chopped fine, three pounds of chopped appfo, ono pound of sugar, one cup of nioladsess, one quart of boiled cider, ono tablespoonful each of mace, al 1 spice, cinnamon, and one-half tablespoonful of cloves, a scant quarter of a cup of salt, one_nutmeg, ono and one- half pounds of raisins seeded, and and and one and one-half pounds of currants. Cook slowly until the apple is done; then add the juice and grated rind of one lemon and one-half pound of citron cut fine. One Way to Roast u Turkey. I was among the first to enter tho new city of Chandler, Oklahoma, writes un Oklahoma man—not as a boomer, but as -a boomer's caterer, a vocation which I decidedly prefer. Business was marvelously brisk while I was there, and so far as booking orders and taking in money were concerned I did well. The best ino.il we had was off a wild turkey secured in some inexplicable manner. There were no cooking utensils or appliances handy, but an old pioneer who had been through th« mill before offered to prepare the meal if allowed to share in it. His offer was accepted, and his efforts were watched with much incredulity aad very litth hope. He e imply rolled the bird, feathers and all, in mud until it was caked completely. Then he roasted the queer looking concern over a wood fire, and when he thought it was done tore off the baked mud un 1 clay. Feathers and skin came off with the covering, leaving a not very inviting skinless but well-browned bird. The b< otner h id timed the operation to a nicety, the turkey was cooked to a turn, and though if. wa< of uncertain age, wan fairly teuuer ami delicious in flavor. Even making allowance for the sweet sauce himger is admitted to be, it is only common fairness 10 describe that meal as a success, und I hive eaten many a worse cookf d and toucher bird in a fmt-ditas restaurant. FARM ARD HOME. OPE TO mrTV. woonswoHTH. Storn dtutclitor of Hie volcp of God! O Duty I If that nnmp Ilion lovo Who nrfn lleht tngnl f,i\ rod To chock tlip errmp, niul rpprov*; Thon, who nrt victory and ln\v When empty terrors ovprnwp; From vnln temptation* dost jet free; And cftlm'st tho weary strife, of frail humanity 1 There arc who ask not If thin* eye Be on them! who, in love and truth, Where no mlsglvlne If, rely Upon the genial sencc of youth; Glnil uenrtsl wlthnnt reproach or hlot; Who tin thy work and know It not; Long may the kindly Impnlpe lantl lint than, If they should totter, teach them to stand fasti Serene will be our days and bright, And hnppy will our nature ho, When love Is nn unerring light Aiul joy it« own security. And then a blissful course may hold Kven now, who, not unwisely bold, Live. In the spirit of this creed j Yet find that other strength, according to their nooil, T, lovltiff freedom, and untried; No sport of everv random Kint, Yet being to myself a guide, Too blindly have reposed my trnxt: And of I, when In my licnrl wan heard Thy timely mandate., 1 deterred The task, In smoother walks toelray; Ilutthcel now would servo more Btrlctlj, If 1 may. Through no disturbance of my soul Or strong com iiunct Ion In mo wrought, Slnrn I.awglverl Yotthon dost wear The Uodliead'H mont benignant grace; Nor know we anything so fair AH Is the smllu upon thy faro; Klowerx Inugh before Mice, on their bods; And fragrnnct) In Ihy footing treads; Thou dost preserve the stars from wrong, Anil tho most ancient heavens, through thee, aro froBh and strong. To humbler functions, awful 1'oworl I call tlioe: 1 myself commend Unto thy guldnncu from this hour: Oh, let my weakness have an end I Give unto me, made lowly wise, The spirit of solf-sacrillci!; The conlldence or reason give; And In the light of truth thy bondman lot mo live. FAUM NOTJCS. Fine ground bone used us a fertilizer is worth twice as much us is tho coursa ground bouo. _What hosts of dry cows, or nearly dry, will bo wintered at groat expense because they aro not bred right to give milk ton months out of twelve. Barn cellars are much warmer if properly provided with doors in front. It is better to build them in two sections, so that the top half can be opened separately. It pays to have a garden, a small fruit orchard and some poultry, if for no other reason than to have a convenient supply of good and wholbsomo food. Those things help to make life on tho faun much more satisfactory than to be without thorn . Pruning- llttf If you transplant any trees in tho spring, take the precaution to prune tho branches so as to restore tho rest destroyed by tho root mutilations that aro always inseparable from removals, and then mulch BO as to retain moisture until tho new rootlets can get a good start. Many trees aro lost by neglecting tho proper cutting back, thus leaving too much work for tho crippled roots to accomplish. Slxo of Furiii Products. Largo articles not only sell bettor than those of smaller size, but les« laborer is required to harvest them. It is much easier to dig two bushels of large potatoes Ihan to digono bushel of smaller ones. Tho farmer should aim to secure as many bushels of any one article as possible, and nothing cotributoa to this more than large size, while tho cost of production will also bo proportionately lessoned. Improving Htock. It will require many years for a farmer to improve his stock by selecting tho best every year, but it requires only a single season to improve I lie stock when the puru- brocl males urn used. The pure breeds aro simply tho result of careful selection of the best for years, or perhaps a century, and it is a loss of time for a farmer to attempt to do that which requires his lifn-timo, when ho can make a short cut to improvement b> taking advantage of the work performed by others before him. Impiovenient costs but little when pure-bred males arc resorted to. Itllxlnt; Fertilizer!!. The nuinuro of thirty fowls in one year, mixed with four times its bulk of ewump muck, is more valuable than three hundred founds of guano. _The advantage of this method of mixing is that the work is done easily and effectually. If tho droppings are suffered to accumulate, they become hard and compact. If applied to land without mixture with other substance, they burn and kill plants, and also prevent seeds from geminating. Besides, the compost crumbles readily, is easily mixed with the soil, or applied in the drills before planting. This fertilizer is very quickly assimilated Dy growing plants . Its influence begins immediately. . _ Itran for Fowls. A mess of bran is alwys beneficial, Brun contains more phosepnates and 'mineral matter than ground grain and it also assists in regulating the bowels, especially when a small quantity of linseed meal \s given with it, but in the summer season a mess three times a week may be allowed only. It may be fed by scalding it and feeding it in a trougn, or it may be sprin'tled over potatoes or turnips, cooked. No other grain food need be given if bran be used in the summer season, if the fowls have a range. In fact, no grain is necessary at all; but should such food be given, let it be bran. CHUBB of Ilurd Times. '"Taint no wonder some folks think 'nd talk ez farinin' don't pay," remarked a tiller of tha soil. He was an unlettered man, in blue overalls, but he looked to have good, common sonse. "There's Stubbs, my next neighbor, ho went on, "he wastes a good_ strip of ground round every Held 'cause it ain't handy to git at it with machinery 'nd he's too shiftless to cultivatB and gather it by band. Why the very richest part o' gome o' my fields is jest this same waste strip. He s jest that way 'bjut everything, Stubbs is. He won't work stormy or cold days, be don't care of what he ha*, 'nd complains all the while about hard times, in my opinion we farmer* mostly make our own times." A Milch Cote on Bnty. In or^er to obtain protoine enough to enable her to do hor duty n large milch cow would be forced to eat about80 pounds of good timothy hay tier day, or nearly 100 pounds of corn fodder, or 150 pounds of ensilngf, or nenrly 400 pounds of oat straw. Slip could obtain the needed quantity in 12 Bounds of pea men!, 9 pounds of linseed meal, 7 pounds of cottonseed meal 20 pounds of wheat bran. Timothy hav costs UH this winter just one cent per pound, while linseed meal is worth one and one-half cents. The timothy ration would cost 80 cents, while the linseed meal would coat 13^ cents. A COW'R time is worth nothing, but still she cannot afford to spend the hours required to chew and digest 80 pounds of timothy imy. Neither can she live on tho linsped meal ration without something to add bulk to tho food mid thus keep her digestive organs in condition. In "combination" there is strength—and profit. Forty-five pounds of clover hay will supply more digestible protouie that 80 pounds of timothy. We know dairymen near tho largo cities who can sell timothy hay at one cent a pound and buy good clover at three-fourths of a cunt. Under such circumstances when they feed their timothy they feed it at a loss of more than onn-fotirth of i\ cent for every pound they handle, which is a mighty big price to pay for the fun of "doing as father did.' r — Rural Now i orkor. T1IK IlOtJSRUOM). Her l.ltV AMKIUOAN MAI1AXINK. She lived and labored midst tho lowliest thlngi, Walked at my siilo and talked, and oft did The gracious hours that friendly twilight brings With toll, naught questioning If good or III V\ ore hers; soft lullabies she crooned at ove, I,Ike popples' breath falling down tenderly On Infant eyelids that gay snort would leave In nestle close and sleep upon hor kuoo. Her life was colorless and commonplace, Devoid of poetry—I thought It HO. I or I wan blind, ami could not set) tlio grace That grow through common duties: now I know Sinco she Is gone from mo and all hor cares, I entertained an angel nnawaroi. Imitation virtues never wear well. It don't take a bit of heroism to bo a grumbler. Life is thrown away when it is not a life of lovo. Patience is tho gold wo get by going through the lire of trial. Those who have a will to learn lind the world full of teachers. Tho inoro wo do to help others tho lighter our own burdens will become. The only way to make people happy is to first make them good. It always makes a trouble smaller to toll it to a friend you believe in. What some men lack in courage they try to inako up in noiso and bluster. People who blow their own horns do not always furnish good music for other people. Tho thing that really kills a groat many people is laziness, though tho doctors generally manage to find a more respectable name for it. Pooplo who live in tho dark never have any trouble in proving to their own satisfaction that there is no sunlight. Nothing More Cruel. Man's selfishness is one of the crudest and most crushing forces operating on tho arena of human effort and struggle We all assent to that statement, but forget that in subtle forms-that very eolfHliness streams forth from our own lives.—Michigan Advocate. Truthful Thoughts. _ When wo fool tho narrowness of these lives of ours, each in its own small circle, wo aro consoled by knowing that every star must move within its limits, though space bo around it. Tho rich are only enviable in one attribute—their power to help tho poor. It is only in looking on death that we comprehend immortality, and only utter wearines", gives piomiso of perfect rest. Our bodies livo in houses, because our souls live in bodies. Wisdom, like many othor human attributes is only for the time. We aro wise to-day, that to-morrow we may look back and say, "How foolish wo were!" The ArtUt'B Chisel, Look at tho nrtist's chisel. The artist cannot carve without it. Yet imagine the chisel, conscious that it was mado to carve, and that it is its funtiou, trying to carve alone. It lays itself against the hard marble, but it has neither strength nor skill. Then wo can imagine the chisel full of disappointment. "Why cannot I carve?' 1 it cries. Then tho artist comes and seizes it. The chisel lays itself into his hand and is obedient to him, That obedience is faith. It opens the channels between tho sculptor's brain and the hard steel. Thought, feeling, imagination, skill, flow down from tho deep chambers of the artist's soul to tho chisel's edge. The sculptor and the chisel aro not two, but one. It is tho unit which they make that carves tho stone. We are but the chisel to carve God's statues in this world. Unquestionably we must dp tho work. But the human worker is only the chisel of the great Art- int. The artist needs his chisel. But the chine! oar, do nothing, produce no beauty of itself. The'artist must seize it, and the' chisel must lay itself into his hand and be obedient to him. We must yield ourselves . together to Christ and let him use us. Then his power, his wisdom, his skill, his thought, his IOVH, shall flow through our soul, our brain, our, heart, our fingers. That is working by faith. — Phillips Brooks. Good Advice. To use this terse and homely phrase, my friend, let us mind our own business. There is enough to decide in our lives; let us be unmindful of the affairs of others, except in ao far as we can be helpful and of real benefit. Let us be charitable in all our conclusions, mindful of the fact that we so often need the cloak of charity ourselves. As we would wish to be judged, so let us judge others—always with a kindly spirit, even with a belief in the better part of self. Strew a flower where others throw a stone. Fill your life so full of sunshine that evil reports will find no place where you are. Stop petty esandaU by some pretty story of womanly kindness. Make your life a bright spot in this world and where you see a frown there throw a smile, and whether it be morn, dusk or night) let toe eunny side of your nature always be at full meridian.—Selected. .... Wil\*:,,*rJ i ^.9^£^Ji*f*l$JX&.\l^., -J *

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