Iron County register. [volume], August 03, 1882, Image 6

About Iron County register. [volume] (Ironton, Iron County, Mo.) 1867-1965

Image provided by: State Historical Society of Missouri; Columbia, MO

                
Where to Plant Fruit Trees.
This comity contains a very large
number of early Richmond cherry trees.
There are several orchards containing
from 300 to 800 trees. There are also
many trees planted in rows on the sides
-of farms and in gardens and lawns.
This year there is a good crop of fruit
on the trees that are outside orchards,
but scarcely any cherries - on the trees
that are in the large orchards. In the
orchards most of the fruit is found on
the trees in the outside rows. A like
state of things existed last year. Trees
'that stood by themselves were loaded
with fine fruit, but those 'that were in
orchards were nearly .destitute'. of any.
The writer of this article, who has a
large cherry orchard, has observed that
the trees in an orchard bear- well while
they are quite small, but generally fail
to produce good crops as soon as they
become large. Large trees, however,
standing in isolated positions in sepa
rate rows produce good crops, year af
ter year, notwithstanding there is a
failure of fruit in orchards that are well
taken care of. He has also observed
that the trees that are scattered about
the premises remain in good condition
after producing twenty crops of fruit,
while those in the interior of large or
chards die or exhibit nrirks of decline.
The observations of others who are in
terested in the growing of cherries are
in harmony with his own. One grower
states that fifty trees standing in sepa
rate rows or scattered about in con
venient places will produce more fruit
daring a series of years than five hun
dred planted in an orchard. Most have
noticed that the fruit on solitary trees is
larger and fairer than that on trees
standing in an orchard and that it
ripens earlier. Beyond question the
best way to secure a supply of cherries
is to plant the trees in separata'" rovs or
to scatter them about. i
, The ilamous-'old 'pear freest planted
by the early French and English settlers,
of which we hear so much, do not stand
in orchards. 'They 'generally occupy
solitary positions or are members of
srriill groups. In all the seaboard States
vigorous apple tnees may be found that
have produced crops for a century and
are still productive. They are not in
orchards, however, but along the sides
of roads, in door-yards, or in solitary
positions on old estates. Few trees re
main in orchards that were planted dar
ing or before the revolution. These few
are in outside rows, where they received
the most benefit from free air and sun
shine. Large orchards of pear trees are
seldom, if ever, profitable. The trees
may be vigorous and apparently hirdy
while quite smull. at which time they
are tolerably productive. They do not
retain their vigor, however. They are
afflicted with all manner of diseases
about the time they should begin to pro
duce large crops. The most healthy and
productive pear trees stand in gardens
or In places remote from collections of
'similar trees. Persons are often tempted
to set out large orchards of pear trees
because they see trees in village or city
gardens doing so finely. They are gen
erally unsuccessful in their efforts to
raise pears, and often fail to raise trees.
A horticultural crank who lived in this
tta 1rnc timti - obervinor that near
trees did well in towns and very poorly
in orchards on farms in the sam-j vicini
ty, attributed the success of the urban
trees to the prevalence of the smoke of
soft coal which pervaded the towns, but
which did not extend to the" adjoinin
country. Excellent pear trees are found
in village gardens in all the Eastern
ffoa whr the use of soft coal is en
tirely unknown. There is no evidanc
that smoke is beneficial to any kind of a
tree, but abundant evidence that isola
tion is highly beneficial in promoting
vigor and productiveness.
mere is no goou. reason ior pia.uim
fruit trees in an orchard. It may be
more easy to cultivate them there and
to protect them from animals, but the
advantage is slight. Land covered by
trees is of scarcely any value for any
other purpose. A litt'.e grass may 13
raised, but it will hardly ever be worth
Cutting. ' A row of fruit trees can be set,
within a few feat of a fence, and be cul
tivated with little difficulty. The trees
will occupy no mro land than they will
5n any other position. The trees that c in
be set on two sides of a 1G0 acre far;n
would constitute a large orchard if the
were planted out in the usual manner.
If desirable, a row of fruit trees can. lie
planted by the side of a division fence
that is to be permanent. . Considerable
. i ii .J.:.ni.:i:n c
nas Doen written on ine . auia.jui.y ... -i
using living posts for wire fences. If
trees are employed for supporting wires
they shbuljT be of enduring wood. Ap
ple tree "wood is very firm and 'lasting."
A staple would not be likely to be drawn
out of it. Fruit trees caa be planted to
excellent advantage between the outer
fence and the public road. That strio
of land belongs to the owner of the ad
jacent farm, and can bs used by him for
any purpose that does not interfere with
travel on the road. He may plant trees
on it or employ it for raising grass or
annual crops. The product of whatever
be plants there belongs to h"m. This
strip of ground is admirab'y adapted for
raising trees. It has a ditch on one
" side which affords good drainage. The
trees can be taken to the places where
they are wanted over the road, as can
fertilizers and water if they are required.
If stock do not run at large in the neigh
borhood the trees will require no pro
jection against theui. If they are al
lowed in the streets the trees can be
-easily protected by means of stakes and
boards. If late varieties of apples are
planted the trees will not be in danger
-of being robbed.
The banks of ravines and the sides of
small streams are -excellent places for
planting fruit trees. The soil is well
Wrtinod And is of verv little value for
raising ordinary crops. It can not be
plowed without endangering the banks,
and causing them to wau away. -The
water in the streams will prevent the
roola of the trees from becomins dry
even when drought prevails. All have
observed how well forest trees thrive
that grow on the banks of streams, and
it seems strange that fruit-raisers have
aot generally learned a lesson from na
ture and planted fruit tree3 in the
place3 where forest tree? do so well. In
parts of the West the" banks of streams
are lined with wild" crab-apple trees,
though they do not grow on the places
that farmers select for the sites of or
chards. These frees that nature has
planted' grow finely, produce large
rfjrops, and are not subject te disease.
That cultivated varieties of fruit tree
would do equally well in the same sib
nations seems certain. Trees prefer
broken land, and the finest specimens
can generally be found in places that
are of no value for producing ordinary
farm crops. Still farmers and horti
culturists reject these places and plant
trees for producing fruit in a smooth
field, where forest trees are seldom
found. "It is evident that they do not
"list to nature's teachings," which, in
the matter of tree production, are wor
thy of the highest regard. Trees planted
by the sides of streams and ravines are
highly ornamental, and serve to beau
tify the farm as few things can. When
trees stand in a single row or are scat
tered about the farm they are more
likely to receive attention than when
they are in an orchard, for the reason
that they are more conspicuous. It
is easy to discover worms' nests in
them, and to remove them, or to notice
interfering branches and to cut them off.
Chicago limes.
Repairs and Improvements.
To keep a farm in repair requires
the careful attention of the. owner from
the day it is put in.o use. Trees, etc.,
that are set for ornament or shade im
prove from the hour they begin to
grow; but pretty much everything else
upon the farm begins to show decay
from the day when it is exposed to the
sun and rain. The best of paint parts
with much of its luster in a month, be
gins to fade in three, is quite dull in
six months, and requires renewing in a
year. New pine-board fences look
fresh, and enliven the farm scenery for
a time, but all farm fixtures are so ex
posed to the elements that indications
of decay set in at the start, and this
tendency never diminishes.
.Hence, with these facts before him it
stands the farmer in hand . to build
with a view to the natural tendency in
buildings and fixtures to vary from the
perpendicular and to 1 get rusty. Gate
posts that are not at first set strictly up
right, unless changed, ever afterward
remain so. Inexpensive buildings re
ceive more or less injury from the
foundation at any point becoming de
fective; hence it is better to guard
against a corner going down before the
structure is placed upon it. The sag
ging gates or the untidy bars affect the
appearance of all in the immediate vi
cinity. The gate-post is never too deeply
or too firmly planted; and for a heavy
gate.hardly any depth or firmness of soil
ab mt the hinge-post will absolutely in
sure against sagging. But a heavy oak
stick, or three-inch plank, placed just
beneath the surface.with an end against
each post, will, as a rule, hold the
hinge-post perpendicular and the gate
level.
The impressions upon the minds of
railway travelers, as they pass through
a farming district, vary as much as those
of the lover of art as he passes from a
piece by one of the first masters to the
merest daub by the scene-painter.
Farms at best, as they are usually trav
ersed by railroad tracks no regard be
ing had to Hues are seen at a disad
vantage. Yet, if fences are erect and
straight, and afford a reasonably sure
barrier against trespassing animals ; the
buildings kept in repair, and the imme
diate premises kept clear of rubbish; if
the strength of the' land is not unduly
taken by slipshod tillage, the manure
pile in the meantime being left to rot in
the baruyard, impressions received from
any view will be favorable.
. But perhaps the neglect to drain wet
places upon the farm is as common a
fault as any other, and one that shows
the want of neatness in fields, and en
tails lessened profits with unvarying
certainty. When t he team can be driv
en, with a load, over ground hitherto
too wet and soft to bear an empty
wagon, then it is evident that drainage
has been made available. No land
should be left about the corners or other
parti of fields in such condition that
water will stand loDg enough upon it to
prevent a good crop of corn being grown
thereon. As it has been proved possible
to redeem impassable swamps, there can
be no reasonable excuse for continuing
to tolerate unsightly angular parcels
of wet ground in inclosed fields, kept
either for tillage or for grass. j
It is said that a man may generally be
known by the company he keeps, so
the business character of the owner of
the farm on the light of the road, or
that one on the left, may be pretty cor
rectly estimated at a glance, even from
the window of the car moving at hiujh
speed. The furrows being turned by
the moving team, whether these are
straight and deep or crooked and shal
low, are facts that, disconnected from
h.11 others, have -a pointed meaning. The
man who reclaim's wet lands upon hi3
farm, stacks his straw in a clean, well
sheltered barn-yard, to be used as feed
and bedding, and to become incorpor
ated with the winter's manure, keeps
his fences erect and his gates from sag
ging, will give in these things evidences
of thriit, and show premises strongly in
contrast with the farm of the man over
the way, who habitually neglects to at
tend to" either of these very important
details. National Live Stock Journal.
The Eastport (Me.) Sentinel says :
There has lately occurred a decided
change in the sardine business. The fish
have suddenly and unaccountably dis
appeared from the coast, and in coa
quence thereof all the factories are
standing idle, and the operatives are
found on the streets lookias: for work.
Lack of fish m ikes a vast difference in
the business in the town. To most of
the inhabitants it is their living, their
all. Scarcity of fish also affects very
sensibly the storekeepers, as when the
factories are running trade is good, but
when they are tlosed the stores present
almost as . deserted an appearance as
the factories. As this same condition of
affairs prevails all along the coast.it is im
possible to foretell when we shall see a re
vival in the sardine business."
Dr. MeClellan, the famous rifie-shot,
gave an old colored man the other day
a dollar to hold a target in the shape of
the ashes at the end of a freshly-lighted
cigar. The darkey took the Uollar in
his hand and the cigar in his mouth.
MeClellan walked back, raised the ritle
and shot the ashes from the end. The
exploit was repeated successfully, but
the old man objected to the third at
tempt, saying: Ie third time am eder
lucky or it am onlucky." N. Y. Trib-unt.
That Nervous Headache.
What does it come from, friend,
that nervous headache, whose sharp
twinges of pain are wearing out your
strength and sapping your energy? You
have tried tonics and cordials and pills
for it, but it refuses to be exorcised.
It clings to you till you are almost in
despair. It drives you to frantic ex
clamations of trouble by day, and it will
not let you sleep at night.
To find out precisely whence it came,
we might have to go a long way back
into the past. It is very possible that
your daughter, just set free from school
by the summer commencement, is re
peating in her person the follies which
in yours are responsible for the aching
brain and tortured nerves. She has
been studying incessantly, resting her
self from books of rhetoric and mathe
matics by an exciting novel, going now
an then to a party, and eating too
little solid food and too many dainties.
Your doing, and not doing the right
things, twenty years ago are among the
oauses for your suffering now.
To let the past alone, however, you
need not look further than your work
basket for some or your distress. The
needle is a potent cause of a great
many people's neuralgia. The beau
tiful," elaborate, and stylish clothing,
which you think you mti3t make
economy forbidding you to employ
much help in the making this is vear
ing out your strength. Fewer dresses
for yourself and children, and plainer
attire, would afford you breathing space
and time imperatively needed for sit
ting sometimes with folded hands. Less
worry about the household, less anxiety
about the way things are going to turn
out, less careful thought of the morrow
(which you have God's word that He
will care for) and that headache might
cease to be an attendant phantom.
Very possibly, however, it is neither
worry nor the needie which is at the
bottom of your particular trouble. You
were brought up to regard an abundant
table and a great variety of dainty eata
bles as a sine qua non in housekeeping.
Your grandmother and your mother
were famous for their cakes and confec
tions, their pastry and preserves, and the
family reputation has not suffered in
your hands. It is not that you person
ally eat so much of the delicate viands
which prove your culinary skill. Every
good cook has known the feeling of tri
umph in her own productions, mingled
with an entire lack of appetite. Either
way, if you are in the habit of spending
your plrysieal resources on the prepara
tion of rich super-elegant food or in the
other habit of living on food which it
taxes the digestive powers to properly
assimilate, you may thus account for
your headache.
The home table may be spread with a
varied and nutritious bill of fare with
out great labor to the housewife, and
with common sense as regards health.
Cereals may be prepared for the daily
breakfast, and whether rice, oatmeal,
wheaten grits, crushed corn, or farina
are preferred, none of them are un
wholesome and all are easily cooked.
The mistake made by most cooks is in
hurrying over their making of porridges.
Porridges require slow coaxing, sim
mering, steaming, and brooding over
gentle fires, to bring out their be3t qual
ities. One may read, sew, or dream,
practice her scales, or write her letter,
while her oatmeal, in its leisurely swell
ing, is 3'ielding up its inner sweetness.
Fruits uncooked, or stewed soups and
broths, which are not the trouble the
uninitiated imagine, and juicy meats,
boiled, broiled, or baked, furnish forth
the family table well and sensibly. And
no lurking headache hides in such diet
as they supply, unless people over-eat, or
eat at irregular times, or eat when over
wearied and exhausted.
The truth of the matter is that many
bodily ailments are very much within
our own power of control or banishment,
and that the last thing in most cases to
be done is to fly to stimulants, narcotics,
or other drugs, for a temporary relief
which leaves the main trouble unhelped
and unchecked. Christian Intelligencer.
Rescued from the Grave.
"It sounds like a good deal to say,
but I once knew a man who died and
was buried on the overland trail to
California, and afterward made his ap
pearance in the placer mines at Prickly
Pear City and it wasn't his ghost
either, but himself in the flesh." This
was the reply which a well-known resk
dent of Helena, Montana, made to a
reporter who was applying the reminis
cence extractor.
"In the spring of '49," continued the
citizen, "when the California gold ex
citement was at its height, in company
with a large party I crossed the plains.
After get ting well under way the cholera
broke out among us and several died.
Among other deaths was that of a man
nmed W. II. Clark, of Henry County
Missouri. We buried him near the point
where the old Santa Fe trail crossed
the Arkansas River. We had no coffin,
but wrapped him in his blankets, and,
inclosing him in a covering or bark
stripped from the cottonwood trees, we
planted him about seven feet deep in
the sand, and piled logs on the grave to
keep the wolves from digging him up.
The next morning we moved on.
"I remained in California until '67,
and was then attracted to Montana by
the gold excitement. In 1868, while in
the diggings at what is known as Mon
tana City, I was startled at meeting
Clark, whom, with my own eyes, I had
seen buried on the Arkansas River
nineteen years before. The recognition
was mutual; and on my expressing my
surprise he related to me that after our
own party had buried him and pro
ceeded on toward California a party of
Indians came along, and, seeing his
new-made grave, dug him up for the
jake of his blanket and clothing. As
he showed signs of life they applied
restoratives, and the result was that he
was brought back to life and health.
He lived among the Indians for years,
and afterward came to Montana. At
the time I met him he was working for
Jerry Embry. There is absolutely no
doubt as to Clark's identity, and he is
now living in Prescott, Arizona, I be
lieve." Helena Independent.
Americans are not such great cigai
smokers as some suppo-e. Although
there is a population of 50,000,000, the
annual consumption of cigars reachei
only 27.000.000.
FOREIGN GOSSIP.
Venice and Amsterdam are the
cities of bridges. The first has 450, the
last 300. London has 15, Vienna 20, and
Berlin will soon have 50. Altogether
the most beautiful and striking bridge
in Europe is that over the Moldau at
Prague.
It is found that the mind of Under
Secretary Burke's sister, who lived with
him, has given way. She has not shed
a tear, and sits at the window, exclaim
ing at every footfall, "He is coming."
It is impossible to divert her thoughts
from him.
A man smashed everyone of the
large plate glass windows of the London
office of the Dublin Freemeri's Journal
some nights ago because, as he said,
they had no right to write about En
glishmen.
Mr. Dijoud, who had previously
been convicted eighteen times, and
spent thirty-five years in prison, lately
set fire to Valence Cathedral, but, the
fire being quickly discovered, only
S7.000 of damage was done. He said
he was tired of prisons in France, and
wished to end his days in New Caledo
nia. twenty years' penal servitude.
They pulled down a chimney at the
Koval Mint, in Berlin, the other day,
and it occurred to the architect that it
might be worth while to analyze the soot
still adhering to the inner bricks. The
result was that they found four pounds
of pure gold, worth a thousand dollars.
The recent solar eclipse calls to
mind an incident of Francois Arago,
who gained among his simple country
neighbors an almost uncanny reputa
tion by his accurate prediction of a total
eclipse. Not long afterward he was a
candidate for election to the National
Assembly, and was elected by an al
most unanimous vote of his constituents.
The wealth and government influence
of the rival candidate created no impres
sion upon the voters. "No, no," they
cried ; 44 we must vote for Arago, for, if
we don't, he may get mad and hurl an
other eclipse at us!"
The newest fashion in Paris, that of
wearing black underclothing, has be
come the furor among the women of the
highest aristocracy. The undergar
ments, like those of the Eastern odal
isques, are composed usually of silk,
generally of what is called foulard des
Indes. From head to foot the Parisian
lady appears, when divested of the outer
robe, as just emerging from an ink bath
the stockings of black silk, the slip
pers of black velvet, the corsets of black
satin, and adorned with black lace, and
the petticoats of black surah, filled
around the bottom with a stiff mousse
of black illusion or net.
The following clause was fonnd in
the will of a Yorkshire rector : "Seeing
that my daughter Anne has not availed
herself of my advice touching the ob
jectionable practice of going about with
her arms bare up to the elbows, my will
is that, should she continue at my death
in this violation of the modesty of her
sex, all the goods, chattels, money,
lands, and all other things that I have
devised to her for the maintenance of
her future life shall pass to the eldest
son of my siiter Caroline. Should any
one take exception to this as being too
severe, I answer that license in the dress
of a woman is a mark of a depraved
mind."
Emerson's Personal Appearance.
His personal humility was as great as
his personal dignity. He entertained
all men with the same quiet geniality of
deportment; and his attitude toward
even the most ignorant or juvenile of his
fellow-creatures was uniformly that of
one who seeks edification rather than to
edify. He knew how to ask the right
and searching question, and how to ex
tract from the clumsy or incomplete
answer the core of significance that
made it valuable. Thus he increased
the self-respect of those with whom he
conversed, while never for a moment
stimulating their selfish vanity, making
them feel their worth a3 men without
exaggerating their importance as indi
viduals. Yet few men can have had
more noticeable peculiarities of face,
figure and demeanor than Emerson.
Who that had once seen him could for
get his apnearance P Who ever spoke in
his melodious, measured tones? or
whose smile so well expressed the self
command that does not deal in laugh
ter? Yet he was distinct with a distinct
iveness that arose not from unlikeness
to his fellows, but precisely from . the
concentration in him of their more sig
nificant and controlling traits. There
was something of the eagle in his aspect,
and a physical awkwardness that some
how expressed the highest degree of in
grained culture and refinement. His
ordinary gait in walking was that of a
man whose attention is so earnestly fixed
upon something on the horizon that his
body is conveyed forward rather by at
traction than volition. It was progres
sion in its simplest form, steady and
uniform, but without the least embel
lishment of grace or elegance ; and yet
there was in it something indicative of
the nature of the man, that made mere
grace and elegance seem semi-civilized.
In his lectures he stood before his audi
ence in the unstudied pose of a New
England farmer.
He had no gestures; sufficient for
him were the modulations of the voice,
and the occasional lifting of the head
and brightening of the visage. Never
theless, few speakers comprehended the
art and even the artifices of oratory
better than he. Every word that passed
his lips was so uttered and presented as
to acquire its fullest force and meaning ;
and no one else could have delivered his
lectures so effectively and captivatingly
as he. The hand that he gave you in
greeting was large and firm; it held
yours for a few moments in a warm and
steady clasp. There was no vigorous
and impulsive Hand-shaking, but the
light of composed cordiality that ema
nated from his features made the more
demonstrative forms of greeting seem
vulgar and inexpressive. It is unneces
sary to extend these details ; they
amount to saying that intercourse with
Emerson tended to make you realize
the practical superiority of the spiritual
over the physical part of man. The
lesson is no unimportant one, especially
in these davs when we are gasreed and
crippled with symbols the meaning ol
which we have forgotten, and which we
consequently misapply and misinter
pret. Julian Hawiharne in Harpers
Magazine
Our Young Folks.
MAMMA HEN'S COMMAND.
Said the first little chicken.
With a queer little squirm:
41 1 wish I could find
A fat little worm I"
Said the next little chicken,
With an odd little shrug-:
44 I wish I could find
A fat little bug!" ;
Paid the third little chicken.
With a sharp little squeal:
44 1 wish I could find
Some nice yellow meall"
Said the fourth little chicken,
Withu smill a gh of grief:
44 1 wish I could find
A green little leaf 1" ,.
Said the fifth little chicken.
With a taint little moan:
44 1 wish I could find
A wee gravel stone!"
44 Xow, see here," said the mother,
From the green garden patch,
44 If you want any breakfast
' Just coma here and scratch 1"
HOW JOHNNIE WENT TO SCHOOL.
Little John worked in a barrel factorv
in the thriving town of E , in Penn-
sjlvania. .......
Piling staves or rolling barrels all day
long is not very enjoyable work, but
Johnnie did not grumble; no, indeed,
he was too happy to get even the hard
est and dullest work to do. He wanted
to go to school, and his aunt had
said if he could save money enough to
buy books and clothes, he might go.
He was delighted with this permission,
and clattered down stairs, three steps
at a time, to hunt up Pat, his friend and
confidant, who would double his happi
ness by sharing it.
Pat was a news-boy on the railroad, a
cheery, good-natured Irish lad, whose
mother had died years ago, when he
was but a blue-eyed baby. The new
mother that came into the little white
washed cabin by the railroad was too
busy with her pigs, her garden and her
little ones to pay much attention to Pat
at first; 'though" by-and by she thought
there was no room for him in the little
home. Poor Pat! he had a hard time
find ng any place where there was room
for him. At last Johnnie persuaded his
aunt to let the forsaken Irish boy share
his bed. They had been firm friends,
sharing their boyish griefs and joys with
the complete sympathy of childhood;
they were brothers in heart, if not in
name.
Johnnie and Pat were industrious,
contented and happy. During the day
they worked on the cars and in the fac
tory, but in the evening the kind aunt
taught them the common-school studies.
Both boys eagerly longed for the time
when they could enjoy fuller advantages
for education.
Pat saw his way but dimly, but John
nie's happiness seemed near at hand.
It was a touching sight to see the two
boys once or twice a week bring out
their store of savings. No miser ever
thrilled at the sight and touch of heaps
of gold as those two 003-s at their paltry
handful of silver and copper.
It was about a month before school
began, and yet Johnnie had not saved
quite the desired amount.
One evening he came rushing home
waving his hat and dinner pail to his
aunt, who stood in the doorway.
44 Oh, auntie, I have enough now,"
he shouted joyfullv. ,
Her motion for silence and the look
on her face lowered his glad voice.
44 What is the matter? Are you ill?
Has anything happened to Pat?" he
hurriedly asked.
"Come in and sit down, and I will
tell you," she replied.
A strana.e sickening odor of some
drug filled the house; there was an un
usual stir ii the front room. Johnnie's
heart sank within him. He listened
with terror-stricken face to the terrible
news. An accident on the road; Pat
was hurt; they were amputating his
arm; they )!eared he would die.
His face grew whiter and whiter as
sach detail of the horror grew upon his
mind. He buried his face in his hands,
and sat mo-ionless a long time.
After a time he went softly into the
house, into the room where Pat lay still
unconscious.
44 Pat, dear Pat," he sobbed, laying
his wet face against the one colorless
hand.
Here he remained until he heard the
doctor's step in the hall, when he with
drew to the shadow of the curtain,
dreading yet longing to hear his words.
How his heart leaped with joy to know
that Pat might live, though a cripple.
His dear, dashing, frolicksome Pat a
cripple!
All night long Johnnie sat with his
eyes on the pallid young face. He was
trying to think out some plan for help
ing him. A firm, happy look dawned
on his grave, thoughtful face. He
seemed to have solved a part of his hard
problem.
Toward morning Pat opened his eyes
and looked around in a daze sort of
way. He tried to rise, but was too
weak. Slowly he recalled the accident,
the pain, and the darkness. What
came then? Looking around in a help
less, wistful manner, he saw Johnnie s
big eyes shining on him through falling
tears. He moved his left hand around
to find the right one. Alas! it was
gone. Turning his face to the wall,
the hot tears slipped down from his
closed eyes.
It was a long day for the boys, John
nie at his toilsome labor in the factory,
and Pat, at home, thinking, thinking,
thinking, trying to find some gleam of
brightness, some way of self-help in the
future.
Going home that night Johnnie bought
an orange and a picture for his friend.
He endeavored to be more than usually
cheerful in his manner that evening.
Pat was trying too, but it was such a
faint smile that he gave that Johnnie
had hard work to keep back the tears.
44 But I did," he triumphantly said to
his aunt. 44 1 never mean to make Pat
feel badly any more if I can help it.
Oh, auntie" this very eagerly "may
I let Pat take my money and go to
school? I can wait a little longer, and
Pat will help me in the evenings."
His aunt touched his sunshiny head
tenderly. 44 You know best, my dear
boy. It is your money. Use it to sat
isfy your own heart."
It was some time before rat was well
Lao - ain, but after the first few days' strug-
Erie he never murmured. He t-eemed to
accept and make the best of his circum
stances. Every evening Johnnie re
membered to brinr him some token of
his love a banana, a paper, a bunch of
rav flowers, or a box of bonbons; for his
money was now all for Pat his dear,
helpless Pat. ' .
At last the eventful day arrived when
Pat was to be up and dressed. Johnnie
started home with more than usual k
speed, eager to see and congratulate
He had f requently noticed boys play-ino-
near and on a small tank used for
mixing paint. They used to stir this,
and inhale the fumes, which gave them
a kind of half-dizzy but pleasant kind
of feeling. It was rather a dangerous
play, and Johnnie usually coaxed the
boys away, and endeavored to persuade
them not to return. As he was passing
the tank this evening he saw two little
bovs leaning over it. and just at that
moment one of them fell face down
ward into the tank; the other little boy
sank down upon the steps, too much
stupefied to render any assistance.
Dropping his pail, Johnnie sprang up
the steps, and into the tank. There
was only a small quantity of liquid in
it, but quite enough to cover the uncon
scious bov. Johnnie lifted him up, and
called loudly for help. It soon came,
for there were others who had seen the
boy fall, though too far away to render
the assistance that Johnnie did. For
some time it was feared that the little
victim would not revive.
After a while, however, they had the
satisfaction of seeing him open his eyes.
Johnnie wanted to go home now; he
knew that his aunt and Pat were anx
iously awaiting him. He was deliberat
ing what to do, when a carringe drove
up, and a lady and gentleman hurriedly
alighting, came up to the still half-unconscious
child. Johnnie heard one
child cry, 44 Mamma!" and saw the
look of glad recognition light up the
face of the other, and theu he was off
with all speed for home. As he ap
proached the house he. paw his aunt,
and yes, it was, it was Pat standing
in the doorway, looking anxiously
toward the factory. He waved his hat,
and hastened forward yet faster, stop
ping at the gate quite out of breath
from excitement, but looking so happy
and smiling that, their, fears were
calmed at once.
4 4 Oh,-1 am so glad to see you, Pat!
Don't touch me, auntie, dear; I am all
over paint and benzine. " Just wait un
til I change my clothes and I will tell
you all about it," he said, as he disap
peared up stairs.
But the great surprise .and pleasure
came the next day. Johnnie had gone
to work as usual, and was not expected
home until evening. About noon, how
ever, he entered the kitchen where his
aunt wa3 working.
"Come, aunt, into the room where Pat
is. I have something nice to tell you."
But when there he could say nothing.
He just put in her hand a crisp check
for two hundred dollars. . . - ;, ..
"Oh, Johnnie! now you can go to
school, too," shouted the delighted Pat.
44 What does it mean, dear?" asked
his aunt, gazing in wonder at the check,
at Johnnie, and then at the chock again.
44 The manager gave it to me this
morning. It was his little boy who fell
into the tank yesterday. He had heard
about my wanting to go to school, and
about Pat, so he gave me this. Oh,
dear auntie! do you suppose anybody
was ever so happy as I am? Here is
the manager s carnage, too. 1 am to
have a half-holiday, and take you both
out riding. Come, we will have some
dinner, and then go down the deep hol
low road. Harper's Young rcople
Small Monkeys.
In a physician's residence up town,
yesterday, a Sun reporter held in the
palm of , his outstretched hand two
monkeys, and they were not cramped
for room to lie i down . in. It was a
medium-sized hand. The two monkeys
weighed together 9 ounces, and were
apparently about the size of small
rats, but their bodies were small
and were clothed with long fur.
Their tails were as bushy as a squir
rel's, and their eyes were as bright
as diamonds. When a finger was point
ed at them they humped their backs
like kittens and chattered vociferously.
When the finger : came in biting dis
tance it was seized with apparent ill
nature, but the bite was like that of the
tiniest kitten.
"We call one Grosvenor and the other
Bunthorne," said the physician. "Gros
venor is the smaller and the prettier.
His favorite perch is on my wife s shoul
der, where he will sit for hours while she
sews. Bunthorne is more venturesome
than Grosvenor, and this little eccen
tricity came near losing him to us yester
day. In fact, we thought he was lost
all the afternoon and evening and all
night, and we advertised in amorninw
newspaper that we would give a liberal
reward for his return. But the little
chap had not gone far. Ho had crept
out behind the slats of the blinds on the
parlor window, and climbed up that vine
which runs up to the top of the house.
There he must have remained all night.
We found him in the dining
room this morning sprawling on
his back on the floor, and
squealing and whining like a sick baby.
He was hungry and tired, and very
sleepy. While Bunthorne was gone
Grosvenor fretted and lost his appetite,
and refused to "be comforted. You
should have seen the reunion this morn
ingit might almost be called affect
ing. 44 They are very dainty eaters," con
tinued the physician, 44 and we have to
study their bill of fare carefully. Their
choicest dainty is flies, but they won't
catch them for themselves; they are too
lazy." N. Y. Sun. '
A mad woman at Salpetrierg Hospi
tal, Paris, was placed in a bath-tub hav
ing a locked-down lid, with an orifice
through which her head and neck
passed. When the hot water was on
the servant with the key went to fetch
linen and remained to gossip. The
screams of the lunatic, she beinff
reputed violent, were unheeded, and
she was boiled to death betore the
negligence was discovered.
A San Francisco
glue is very generally used in the man-
u.at,iuic u reo-uieaiu, ana iears sick
ness among ice-cream consumers in
consequence. It is not best to be too
inquisitive as to what one eats in these
adulterated tmes.