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Un!iiirmU it Pit. &A it. 1%/ l$Pr lafiM Mr fat iff DM* 1 d*,cto" $'*H? ftoe wlth love capricious peeps front a woolimd bower iif.-sf *4«me« chaiigdcss) &* A wooded hill and'a river: x&gi K- A^,fS°i,b?d fl" wt«?th# end- \i din tree shadows quiver. ^MS ®P*he brink there dreaming -ThaUhe lifo I live k.adnunT^ Ieal 7® is bat the geeming. Andthe-trtie is the son-flecked stream iwSP1?,frU,e Pfrch "d the beaver sail by ainicool depths of the river E^?«5ti588^i.nRSr breaks the mirrored sky, And.the aim tree shadowsquiver. ^ofohildren away on thehill There are bees thro the fag flowers hum nting to the dock«1)114 the the farther side is dramming. Ana I sink to sleep in my dream oTa dream, —V1 the Mass by the brink of the river, "here the yokes blend and the lilies end And-the elm. tree shadows quiver. Like a gia Item the past is the kindly dream, For the sorrow and passion and pain Are adrift like- the leaves on the breast oi the stream. Mid the child life comes again. the sweet, sweet pain ot a joy that died! _YJa pam that is joy forever! iw *'la'died in the stormy tide inat was once my sun-flecked river. —John Boyle O'Reilly. STORIES OF WILLS. There was an old lady, a toothless old dowager, who had a reprobate and discarded son, and a pretty, gentle niece, who lived with her. We used to manage all her affairs, and it was pretty well-known in the office that the "nice girl with the long curls" was to be the old lady's heir. Our head clerk, a red-whiskered dandy, who had no mean opinion of himself, built, I could sec, certain speculations on that basis. The old lady never came with out Eliza and when a visit was ex pected, Mr. Catchpole brushed his fiery hair into the most killing curls, and changed theout-at-elbows coat for the smart one he wore out of doors, and beautified himself as far as that was practicable. Well, a message came one day that the oldlady was ill, very ill, with an urgent request that some one should go at once and make her will. Off went our Adonis as fast as a promise of something liberal over the fare could urge the cabman. When he arrived, the old lady was alive—just alive enough to tell him that all her property was to be left to Eliza. She told him that in the- hissing whisper which supplied the place of the cracked voice but when she came to the word "all," so full was the- poor old creat ure of love for the nieee: or, perhaps, of determination—let us hope not hate against her son—that she half rose up in her bed and clenched her withered hand, and shrieked out that word again. It must have been a terrible sight—that ot life struggling with death for a will. It was a short matter to write that will down and Catclipole's pen flew over the paper, and the old eyes that were glazing so fast stared anxiously the while, and the thin fingers actual ly held the pen she had asked for be forehand ready to sign the paper. In a few minutes all was ready but what a difference that few minutes made. The clerk had risen from his seat and approached the couch, when the sur geon, who stood on the other side, said, with that coolness which medical practice brings, "It is too late and— it was too late. The dead fingers clenched the unused pen so tightly that they had to be unclasped from it. The son was heir of all, and Eliza a beggar. Death had translated that screamed- out "all" into none. The sequel is soon told, The proper ty was wasted by the son, and has long since passed into other hands, ana Eliza, instead of possessing some thousands a year, and being woed by Mr. Catchpole, is a faded daily gover ness. Every lawyer's office has plenty of such tales as this. One I remember of a miser who had ruined more than one family, and in his last moments wished to make such reparation as bequeath ed gold could compass. Poor wretch, •when the will was brought, catalepsy had seized him. He could not move his hand his tongue refused its office only his eyes were free to move and of those eyes I have been told a terri ble tale. He was, as misers often are, a man of strong mind and iron nerve. Passive as he was in every other part,, the eyes told all that was passing within. You could have seen in them intelligence when the will was read to him the powerful volition brought to bear, and persevered in, when the writ ten word which was to make it a tes .-jR. tament was required the terror and horror which came over him when he found the right hand, which had so ofteh aided him for evil, would not help him for good the despair which burst the unseen bonds around him, and, with a convulsive motion, let out the last of life. It must have been a spectacle of horror, when punish ment came in the shape of a prohibi tion of the one act of mercy, which might have made some amends for a lifetime of wrong. Then there was another legend of a man whose daughter married against his will. He lived somewhere in a retired country-house, far off from 'h any town. This man was subject to 4 a disease of the heart, and one'night, feeling the symptoms of an approach- ing attack, and that strange presenti 'j ment which so often comes before *V death, he roused his household, and sent off a messenger on horseback, not Si' for a surgeon, but for a lawyer He wanted his will made instantly. The y- messenger could not be expected back for at least two hours, and long before «. that the spasmodic attack had come on,' but still in the intervals of his paroxysms, that determined man wrote as though against time. When the lawyer did arrive, all that was elt of the will which had been scractive $?* **'•*. and energetic a few hours before, was &?' if that last piece of writing. It expressed lif the deceased's intent ion, in the strong- HJ' est terms, utterly to disinherit his -rebellious'child, and to give his prop f|i|erty to some charitable" institutions |p|Itwas complete,, even tothesigna bPf ture only the flourish usually added to the name was wanting, as though v' there the hand had failed, But that writing was. not a will it was not in proper form, nor attested. In the of-thelaw itwas but an invalid iter took titled her natural believe th&tmorecanning! morefalsehood, mote worldly anxi ety. and more moral wrong are blend ed with the subject of "wills" than with the whole mass of law parch*' merits extant. A will should not only be properly made but properly plac ed. and more than one should be cognizant of its whereabouts. I have knqwn many cases of gross turpitude in the Bhape eS?8 of destroying wills, and can record one rather curious anec dote affording a vivid illustration of unprincipled greed defeating itself. Two gentlemen in the (Sty, close fr"OIn "their school-days, were in the decline of life. Mr. Edmonds had a large family, with comparative ly small means while Mr. Raymond was worth two hundred thousand pounds, with no living relative but a. nephew, of the most profligate char acter. This nephew had been expen sively educated^ and had spent unlimited money for the worst of purposes and the uncle at length became wearied and dis gusted with the young man's utter depravity. "Edmonds," said Ray mond, one day to his friend, as he handed him a roll of paper, "here is my will. I have left my nephew ten thousand pounds, and the rest of my property to you, who, I know, will make good use of it." Edmonds rem onstrated, and implored, but was eventually compelled to take the will, and lock it up in his private desk. Within a few months, however, by dint of constant entreaty, Edmonds prevailed upon his friend to make an other will, and just reverse the be quests, leaving the nephew the bulk of the property, and Edmonds the ten thousand pounds. This will Ed monds read, and saw safely deposited in Raymond's iron chest at nis pri vate residence. Within the following year Raymond died.' The nephew found the will, and, as it afterwards appeared, such was his baseness, that, to secure in addition to the rest the ten thousand pounds left to Ed monds, he immediately burnt thedoc ument, knowing that, if his uncle died intestate, he himself was heir-at-law. On this villanous announcement, Ed monds sinking his conscientious scrup les, produced the first will-made by Raymond, and claimed the chief of the property and the unprincipled nephew, after making full confession during a fit of delirium tremens, de stroyed himself. A Curious Coincidence, "Speaking of coincidences," said the man with a wooden leg as he lighted a half consumed cigar he had been carrying in his handkerchief speaking of coincidences, gentleman, I can tell you a very similar thing. I was going up Niagara street, in Buffalo, when I saw a man with a wooden leg on the other side of the street coming down. We looked across at each other and stopped. Says I to myself, and he to himself: 'That fellow lost his leg at the bat tle of Gettysburg, or I'm a sinner!' "Well?" asked one of the group. "We looked at each other across the street for a moment and then says I to myself and says he to himself: 'I'll strike him for a quarter and the old comrade and sufferer will shell out.'" "Well?" "Very curious coincidence, gentle men—very curious," continued the man as he puffed away at his old stub. "We met on the cross-jvalk. We shook bands. We struck each other for a quarter, but didn't get it. We were both dead broke. Neither of us was in the battle of Gettysburg or any other battlp. Then says I to my self and says he to himself: 'Blast his eyes! but he's a travel ing on his shape and telling a tale of woe, and he's no man for me to asso ciate with!' and so we walked off. I don't like coincidences myself there's no money in 'em."—New York Sun. says Buffalo Biii'a Autograph. When Buffalo Bill was in Washing ton, shortly before Congress adjourn ed, some of the Senate pages captured him and extorted about a hundred autographs from him. "Boys," said Mr. Cody, "I am willing to give you one autograph apiece. Now, don't ask tor more." The boys promised, and by ones and twos presented their books. After he had written his name fifteen or twenty times'Cody became suspicious and aske(]l how many pages there were. "Thitty," he was told, though there are but half that number. It was the appearance of a red-headed page that gave the game away. Cody seized lrimby the ear and asked him if he hadn't been in before. "Yes," said the scamp, "twice, but that is nothing, some of the boys have been in three or four times." Buffalo Bill's autograph is worth twenty-five cents in Washington to go in a book con taining the signatures of President. Cabinet, Supreme Court, Senators, and the most prominent Representatives, Such a book sells at $5, and Buffalo Bill's signature thrown in as a sort of a chromo. A Monument for Davy Crockett. A monument is to be erected over the remains of Davy Crockett, the famous Tennessee hunter, who killed 108 bears and performed other deeds of valor. It is now more than sixty years since this picturesque old character was buried. The shaft will be of Tennessee granite and over twenty-seven feet high. At the front base of the column the emblematic bear keeps faithful watch in front of the bronze medallion of the setting sun on the right part of the shaft a bronze medallion with the distinctive badge (the rifle and knife crossed) of the pioneer settlers of the state is represented, and a corresponding medallion on the left side shows the agricultural implements, early sym bols of Tennessee's prosperity. One other medallion represents the grand seal of Tennessee, and on the front of the shaft a bust of Col. Crockett looks down over the grizzly he loved to hunt so well. The bust mil be as true to life as it can be made. :.s WHAT is the matter with the dra matic profession? Hardly a week passes now without the details of some scandalous divorce case, and it cap not truly be said that the pro fession does not furnish more than its fair proportion to the cases of in fringement upon the code of morality and of violation ofthe seventh com* MATTERS OF INTEREST tO GENTLE 8ISX. THE Jotton Dresses—The Bruriette's Day—A Bit of a Woman--A •rsw, Houae Gown by Worth.-/ vxgr Sensible Girls. Cotton Dresses. There la,a revival of dainty old fashioned muslins for the cotton dresses in preparation for next sum mer, of corded dimities, of lawns soft as mull, the pretty batistes, and transparent organdies. These sheer fabrics will rival without .displacing the thicker ginghams, percales, cotton Cheviots, and satteens that have so long been popular. In thin fabrics the first choice is for those with clear white grounds strewn with flowers, or branching designs in pink, lilac, or blue, but there are also many with dark colors as well as with black grounds. The new dimities are thin ner than those formerly worn, and are woven in corded stripes powdered with colored figures they are thirty two inches wide, and cost thirty cents a yard. Striped lawns are in great favor in broad widths, and in narrow quarter-iheh stripes of yellow, pink, pale violet, or china blue, alternating with white these come in the soft mousseline de l'lnde, entirely without dressing, that is sold for twenty-eight cents a yard. Embroidered batistes are liked in colors, while thinner or gandies and dotted Swiss muslins have large designs of flowers printed upon them. Tailors are making tucked bodices and shirt waists of duck or of cotton Chevoits for young ladies at board school and for yatching dresses. The prettiest tucked bodice, with seams only under the arms, falls low on the hips, and is fitted entirely by tucks stitched in the front and back, begin ing above the waist line and extend ing just below it. Ten lengthwise tucks below the bust fit in the front easily, and eight are sufficient in the back. In thinner fabrics, such as washable silks, there are bodices with lengthwise tucks stitched all around the waist, giving the effect of a corse let, with the silk drooping above, like a blouse. Coat sleeves, square cuffs, and a turned-over collar complete tucked bodices of duck or Cheviot. The straight skirt has a fan-pleated back. Youthful looking cottonCheviotdres ses, white striped with blue or pink, or with the color for the ground and the lines of white, are made with a shirt waist and sloped skirt fastened on by buttons in the belt. The shirt usually has a shallow yoke, that may be in the back only, stitched on in a point, while the front is straight, and the fulness is gathered under it. A plain pink Cheviot shirt waist is worn with a bias skirt of pink and white striped Cheviot. A dress of striped blue and white Cheviot has the skirt bias and the shirt in straight stripes, except in the yoke, where they are cut to meet in points in the middle. Such shirts have shirt sleeves with deep cuffs and turned-over pointed collars. Stitched edges and pearl buttons give the neat finish needed. Spencer waists with yoke and belt are cut out in square tabs that fall low on the hips and give a coat effect, or else they are scalloped deeply and egded with embroidery. This design is pretty for ginghams and percales. The sleeveq fall full on deep cuffs of embroidery. The belt is pointed in front, and may be of velvet, with square clasps of jet or steel set upon it, or else a Cleopatra girdle of passe menterie is worn.—Harper's Bazar. The Brunette's Day. The brunette is going to have her innings. "Bab's" reason for saying this is that most of the new bonnets are decorated with white ribbon and have white ribbon strings. These are absolutely impossible to any blonde except the natural one with a skin like peaches and cream. The woman who nas had dark hair and has been idiot enough to bleach it usually has to make up to suit her hair or else her skin is of a leaden hue. Now, white ribbons will bring out every particle of powder and rouge on her face and make a shocking spectacle of the fool and her folly. The brunette will wear the white ribbons and triumph in this way over the blonde, who will not dare to assume them. In the way of fashion her blondeship has triumphed for a longtime, and it is only just that the brunette should at last have some rights. The bleached blonde will un doubtedly try the white ties—for any woman who has been silly enough to believe that nobody knows that the Lord did not make her hair a color out of harmony with her skin, her lashes and her brows is idiot enough to try anything, for she believes that everybody in the world is blind. The glisteiiing white ribbon is a judgment come upon the lady with the bleached locks. A House Gown by Worth. A charmingly simple dress for the nouse is of self-colored woollen and dark otter brow velvet. Passemen terie of gold and chenille is the trim ming. The round bodice is a pretty variation, of a design in great favor with Worth. The front is curved low at the top below a velvet plastron. It is draped from the right shoulder and crossed to hook in a straight line on the smooth left side. All tne edges are bordered with passementerie. The velvet plastron is draped in curves, and is cut in one piece with the collar. A velvet girdle is folded around the hips. The sleeves expand in a puff at the top, and are gatnered in a ruffle high on the shoulders a band of vel vet and passementerie trims the wrists. The skirt front has slight movement, caused by folds caught up on the left by a chatelaine of loops rows of the passementerie extend thence to the foot. The right side falls forward in a straight fold edged with the trimming. This design is being used for spring gowns of crepon or cashmere, or for chali dresses for sum mer wear. 8enslble Girls. Some old philosopher has said that in nine casea out of ten, when a man was thrown constantly in the society of one woman, he would end by mar-' rying her.' But there are some except ions to th|s general rule, and no table one is to be found among the class pf shopgirls -who ate employed -.. -,T-- one ""•at*: "It is a popular idea with the public that our female smpioyss find husbands among the men in the store, with whom they work every day, but it is not true. Most of the girls who marry select their mates from a class of men who are in some other and more remunerative business. The principal reason lor this is to be found in the fact that the girls soon become imbued with sensible ideas in regard to the life of all who have to work for a living. A girl soon finds out all about the man who works at the same counter with her and knows that he earns but little more than she does herself. Matrimonial bliss on a salary just sufficient for one has no tempation for the average shopgirl!" —New York Recorder. Conventionality. There was a young woman who said with earnestness and sincerity, "I would rather sit in a stupid parlor a whole evening with the stupidest people I would rather feel the rain of dullness splashing down over my face and into my eyes, and know it was all right and proper, than be introduced to ths brightest people on earth if there was about them the least trace of unconventionality." And there was a woman who heard this dictum and who went from the hearing'' of it straightway to eat a dinner given to the only college president in the whole United States, probably, who would sit down in a flannel shirt to a board surrounded in his honor by a hun dred of his old students, half in swal low-tailed coats and the -other half in rose-decked gowns. And when the woman looked at the fine, simple, scholarly face and then at the gray flannel, she said to herself: "This man would not be the man he is if any self-consciousness had made him so much as question with himself the propriety of wearing or laying aside his unconventional clothes." And so this woman further said to herself, "In this world there are many opin ions." Ornamental Buttons. We are once more to have buttons for ornament as well as use. The stores of the antiquary will be ran sacked by his feminine relatives for miniature and dainty enamels. For evening dress these will be set around with pearls and diamonds, and anti que gold and silver are to be worn en crusted with jewels. For the daytime they will be simpler, miniatures of Wedgewood china being the very smartest. Great care will be taken in selecting the costumes to be honored by these ornaments, for we shall have to dress "up" to our buttons, and the color of our gowns must harmonize with the ground of the miniature. I have seen a perfectly beautiful set, ornamented with portraits of the beauties of different reigns, set round with pearls, which made me feel very envious and several other sets in old paste, with which I should have been quite satisfied.—Philadelphia Tele graph. A Bit of a Woman. Louise Lawson, the sculptor whose statue of Sunset Cox is occasioning considerable discussion just now, is a bit of a woman, with golden-brown hair, gray eyes, a lisp and vivacious manner. She wears, when working in clay, a dark-blue blouse and trousers, and her studio costume is always of white linen—skirt and coat—the latter finished with an extraordinary collar of coarse embrodiery, tied with the traditional knot of baby-blue ribbon. With this costume yellow shoes are worn. The whole effect is more bizarre than attractive. Whatever the critics say, the letter carriers swear by Louise and her nine-foot image.—New York World. Fashion's Late Freaks. String your neck with silver beads. Every black dress must have a dash of color. Swell modistes fit their skirts to the customer while she is seated. Women are shorter now than at any time in the last 10 years, all be cause of the low-heeled English walk ing shoe. All the collars and cuffs on jackets and wraps flare. They are braided and loops are tacked down with but tons. Cleopatra's handkerchief is another innovation by Sarah Berndardt, made of 10 inches of fine batiste hemstitch ed, and wet with lily of the Nile. This sweet-scented flimsy rag is worn con cealed in the palm of the hand, whether gloved or not. In beauty shops you can buy a pot of some scarlet grease to put on your gums and m&ke your teeth dazzling white by contrast. This is no secret to the Pattis, Bernhardts, Minnie Hauks and Ada Rehans, but it is only recently that the belles and dames of society have begun to paint their gums. Hints for the Cuisine. Fried oysters are not suitable food for a dyspeptic, but when roasted in the shell they are excellent and can lie digested with ease by a weak stomach. If doughnuts are cut out an hour before they are fried to allow a little time for rising, they will be much lighter. Try cutting at night and fry ing in the mprnine. Gravy will generally be lumpy if the thickening is poured in while the pan is over the fire. Set the pan off until the thickening is well stirred, in, then set it on the fire and cook thoroughly. APPLE MERINGUE.—TO one quart of tart apples, stewed and pressed through a sieve, add the yelks of three eggs well beaten. Sweeten to taste and flavor. Place in the oven, and when brown cover with the meringue made as follows: Beat the whites to a stiff froth with three tablespoons of powdered sugar. PEA SFLKUP.—After well washing one quart of split peas, soak them for the night, ana boil them with a little car bonate of soda in just sufficient water to allow them to break to a mash. Then put them to three or four quarts of beef broth, and stew for one hour then pass the whole through a sieve, and heat again. Season witn salt and ir. -One or two small heads of celery, sliced and Btewed in it. wUl be found a great inprovement, 71 i\ OF INTEREST TO fhl WESTERN PARMttR.. *•''("1^' Farmer's Barn Yards—Malt* a Good Garden—Window Gardening—. 8trawberry Becto—Xaed vK Farmer's Barn Yards. Some day, when you have nothing else to do, take a ride through the country and count all the neatly-kept barn-yards you see. Even if you have other duties, go, if for no other reason than out of curiosity. In a ride of twenty miles you will not see ten half neatly-kept barn-yards, and not more than two—more likely not one—as it- should be kept. You will see a wagon here, another there, over there a sled and in another place a hay-rack, flat on the ground, all ranged about the middle of the lot and besides all these things you will see plows, corn-planter, harrows, small hay-stacks, piles of boards, rails, posts and many other things I cannot now enumerate, thrown around in a haphazard way that ought to put any farmer to shame. Not a blade of grass to be seen, when there should be a well-sodded yard. In thinking of the many, many farm ers I have known, I can remember but one who has a well-kept barn-yard. And, as the yard indicates, he is a very methodical farmer. "A place for everything and everything in its place," is his motto, and the entire farm shows that his motto has be come a reality, not a mere theory. When he drives into the lot his wagon has a place of its own each piece of machinery has its own place. Nothing is left in the center of the lot for a horse to run over and perhaps cripple itself. This barn-yardiurnisli es pasture for two work horses dur ing the summer nights, and for four or five calves through the entire sum mer, yet it does not contain over two acres. But the horses are never al lowed to run in it when the gronnd is soft. Of course, it never becomes cut up and rough. The farmer has hauled plenty of gravel about the barn, and little or no mud is found there. As most barn-lots are along the road in line with the house-yard, one would suppose as much care would be taken to Keep them in order as is used on other premises. There is just where you are mistaken, as a ride will convince you. The house-yard may be perfectly neat and the adjoining barn-lot may be a perfect slouch of filth and disorder. Why do not these men realize that their lots are but lots on an other wise lovely picture? Why not use a little forethought when driving in with machinery and vehicles? It takes no longer to drive a wagon to the same place each time, than it does to unhitch wherever the horses may hap pen to stop. "But," says one, "I haven't room. You think you have not room simply because your lot is in such a contused jumble that you do not know yourself how much room you have until you "size up," as the housekeepers say. Just try it once if not for you own satisfaction, do so for the pleasure of the people who pass your place. At first they may make remarks and be inclined to won der what can have taken possession of you, it is so unlike you to have order your barnyard. But never do you mind their talk, when this systematic plan has become a habit with you, others may be led, seeing your "light," to "go and do likewise." Make a Good Garden. No man should spend his labor and time over so large an acreage as to fail in making a first-class garden. In this much of the satisfaction and often no little part of the profit of country and farm life consists. It is rather disheartening for the city res ident who goes into the country dur ing summer for fresh air and the fresh home-grown small fruits and garden vegetables to look into back yards and find tin cans carelessly thrown away, which show that even for such common table luxuries as tomatoes, green corn, and often green peas, the farmer and his family have nothing better for him than he could himself buy at the retail grocery. If farmers wish to attact other men to their business, as it is clearly their interest to do, they must in every way make farm life as pleasant and enjoyable as possible. Labor-saving machin ery enables the farmer to take life easier if he will. He com plains that low prices for staple crops take off all his profit. Grow less of these crops then, and devote a larger share of time to fruit, especially the small fruits, and to garden vegetables. So soon as the farmer grows enough of all kinds of vegetables for table use in their season he has procured luxuries that only wealthy men can afford. As he thinks over what he would have been obliged to pay for such delicacies, the harder lines of his life fade away. It seems worth while to live on a farm, and when he gets to feeling this way it is ten to one that he falls into the habit of marketing surplus he does not need, and thus after a few years developes into market gardening the natural way. First make a garden that will supply your own table with all garden deli cacies, and if there is a surplus it will be sure of a profitable market. Window Gardening. Now that the chief brunt of the win ter lias passed, something may be done in the way of repairing damages. Where the shrubs in the window box es are brown and seared I should be disposed to remove them, and fill in the boxes with spring flowers of a hardy nature. Canterbury bells make a won derful show in a good-sized box, and as soon as the snow is over they can be cleared out and the boxes filled with something else, There is a won derful charm in variety, and there are many hardy plants that might be used in a similar manner. Forget me-nots, primroses, daisiies, wall-flow ers, pftnsies, violas, carnations, and pinks are all suitable for a change in fact, outside window gardening has hitherto run too-much in one groove, the only things used being a few exot ics in summer, and a few shrubs in win ter. Plants inside the window, in many cases, want a thorough cleans ing with soap and water to removi the impurities lodged thereon by the strawberry Beds. These should have a thorough clean up and a heavy mulching of farm yard manure. The Dutch hoe should be run through the rows, and the beds raked lightly before applying the mulch. If the- soil is of very heavy nature, and subject to cracking on the surface, it may be pricked up with a fork, but light soils are better when not disturbed except by the hoe and rake. In mulching them, pack plenty of the material close up to the plants. Go over all autumn-planted beds, and tread the soil firmly about the plants, mulching^ these beds likewise with some mild kind of manure only poor land will require rich mulch ings. \oung plants of strawberries standing in nurse beds should be planted out 20 by 24 inches apart on a plot of deeply trenched ond enured thoroughly manured land, planting them firmly. Put a large label to mark each variety, and make notes of the names and position of each varie ty, in case of the loss of the labels. Those who make a practice of plant ing their forced plants should now get the land dug for them, so that it may settle before planting time arrives.— Gardener's Chronicle. Seed Sowing. A sowing in shallow drills, flin. apart, of French horn or early Nan tes carrots, should be made on the south border. In preparing the ground, take advantage of a fine day, so that the surface soil may become somewhat dry before sowing the seed, and a dressing of wood ashes may be applied before the drills are closed, as a manure, and remedy against wire worms. Early Milan turnip seed should be sown in drills 1 ft. apart. A small sowing only should now be made, and again in three weeks. Large breadths are undesirable at this early date, as the plants run to seed rapidly. Radishes should be sown on the south border, the turnip-rooted varieties being employed. Cover the radish beds with dry litter until the seeds come up, when it should be taken off in the day and replaced at night. Pruning. This is one of the most important branches of the work. In pruning an orchard several things must be kept in view. The work must progress with the growth of the trees. First, shape your trees to a nice pyramid for prun ing, so as to give your trees a well balanced top. In all cases prune off all branches that will make forks. You want side limbs startingout from the center trunk. If any side of your trees lack branches sufficient to make a well blanched top of side limbs and •011 have a fork, turn it into a side limb, which can be done by pressing it out into the vacant space and cutting a crotch from acorn stalk sufficiently long enough to hold the limb at the desired angle, putting one end against the trunk of the tree and the other on the limb. When once you get the trees started it is easy to keep them so. The Beef Supply. According to the estimates of the bureau of animal industry of the agricultural department, based upon statistics gathered by trusted agents, there were in the United States ten years ago 788 cattle to every 1,000 of population. There was then a steady increase until 1885, when the number was nearly 800. Since then it has decreased. Placing the population in 1890 at 62,000,000 ana the number of cattle at 49,000,000, a little less than in 1889, the figures for last year would be 790 cattle to 1,000 popu lation. If the milch cows are separat ed from other cattle, the beef supply for 1890 is shown to have been only about 548 cattle to 1,000 of popu lation. Tubers and Roots. The remaining roots of parsnips ieiT, in the ground should be dug up soon, the sound ones being stored in moist earth or sand in a cool place. The remaining artichoke tubers should be dug up and stored as advised for par snips. Planting tubers may be put into a heap, protecting them with lit ter from frost, until the ground is in readiness for planting. I11 digging up the crop of artichokes, it is better to open a trench at one end of the piece of ground and clear out every tuber or bit of one. The trenches may be manured at the time of digging, thus making the land ready for other crops. Farm Hints. The borer which attacks the currant stems may be kept in subjection, says the Michigan Farmer, by cutting and burning all the infected stems. In stems that cannot be spared go for the borer with a knitting-needle. This season there is more water in the soil than has been the case for years. Cellars that have always been dry, in some sections, are now partly filled with water. This will probably not be lessened, as we are yet to have tlie usual spring rains. Michigan has a cow insurance club. On joining, each person pays into the treasury 75 cents for each cow in his possession, and when a cow belonging to a member dies, an assessment is mado and §40 is paid to the loser. After the initiation fee the members are required to pay nothing except the assessments. Young chicks will become afflicted with lice as soon as hatched. The lice leave the fowls and go to the chicks. As soon as a hen comes off with a brood rub a few drops of melted lard or oil on the skin of the head and neck of the lien, and dust the chicks well with Dalisatian insect powder. No breeder or farmer should believe or accept as a fact that any breed of swine or any individual animal is per fect, says the National Stockman. The force or strength of the meaning of the word "thorough-bred" in creases with the improvement of the quality of the animals. No one reali zes the worth of the adage that "the best is none too good" with more force than the true fancier and breeder. He is always -looking for his Mi: breeder. He is always-looking for his failing to answer cal ideal higher type and when found will I had married Again. pay fabulous sums for it 1 Be wai tlM that line of ed the train without ductor or left it without _. eral laugh at the company's men's expense. Yesterday, ho he arrived late at the station barely in time to swing on ticket. He had just caught his after seating himself with the daily crowd of fellow travelers. the conductor appeared. "Haven't got any ticket," began ttie joker in his usual vein, and the crowd awaited its daily guy. "All right give me 50 cents/' sponded the official. "Never carry anything so small," and the traveler pickea out a $80 bill, but did not pass it up. 1 "Make out your receipt first/' he" continued, "I'm all business to-day," Then as the receipt was duly punched' out, he took it and began a long and labored inspection of it, still holding on to his $20 bill, at the same time aggravating the busy conductor with, superfluous questions: "Engine all rignt? Airbrakes or handbrakes? Newsboy chained? Any rebate on this ticket? Punched it all you want to? Any stop-over allowed?" etc. As the conductor began to tire of the business, the fudny man handed over his $20 bill and suddenly drew it ba«k, adding, "One question more: Friends. "It is the edict of the world," said the man—'"laugh and the world laughs with you weep and you weep alone.' Friends are many when the purse is long, but when care and afflic tion comes—ah, how is it that I should know this sad truth, that in such times as these friends are indeed few! The loyalty of friendship is something I have long consecrated in my inmost heart of hearts. One should be free with all possessions, but should be miserly of his friends. Make friends as you treat life's earlier path. Keep constantly fortifying your stock of friends, or the latter will soon pass from you. The friends of our youth are no doubt the best of all enduring through life without thought or need of change. As Thackeray said. "We are so much alone in this world you who have anything to love hold, that frieud to your heart—and thank God!"—Detroit Free Press. Halstead's Story of Sherman, /.s Mr. Halstead told me a story of General Sherman. The editor was in Washington as a newspaper corre spondent at the outbreak of the war. He met Sherman there, as a coloneL One day in a party of soldiers and newspaper men the subject of the loyalty of the inhabitants of Washing ton came up, when Colonel Sherman grimly said: "Theloyalty of thepeople of Washington is such that if our troops in the capital should be at tacked and meet with reverses, the women of Washington would cut the throats of the wounded on the side walks with case knives." There were observing correspondents in theparty who held the same opinion, but weM chary of expressing it, and in comporJ ing notes afterward they predicte&te future for Sherman, on account of his^ keenness of scrutiny and his oddness of expression.—New York Press. '^\ii Census of a Cheese. Dr. Adametz, a Swiss scholar, has been taking a census of the inhabi tants o£ a cheese. The microscopic examination of one "gramm" of a fresh Emmenthaler cheese, such as is sold in England under the name of Gruyere. contained no fewer than 90,000 so-called microbes. This pro digious encampment, after seventy days, proved to have increased to a tribe of 800,000. Another sort of cheese contained within a single "gramm" board and lodging for about two million microbes, while in a" "gramm" cut from the riad of the: same cheese Dr. Adametz found about/l-f* five million of these inhabitants! ASfij piece of cheese upon our tables of itii few pounds' weight may consequent* contain more microbe inhabitan than there are human inhabitants*, the whole world.—Pall Mall Gazette* V»rw. W: Is this a through tram?" "Bet your life," replied tne conductor, taking, the bill, "and what is more," he added, pocketing the bill and deliberately moving away, "it's through without 'change," and the entire car smiled at the funny man and his disa $20 bill.—Buffalo Commercial Keep Your Hat Shiny. "I haven't had my hat ironed since I bought it two months ago," I heard a gentleman say as he handed, it to the attendent of a well known hat store to have it dressed over. "You seem to have the common idea that ironing spoils a silk hat," replied the hat man. "That is a great mistake. No one wears a_ eilk hat over a year, while the majority of men change with the spring and fall styles. You might iron a hat every day for six months without wearing off the nap or injur ing it unless you should burn it in ironing, which rarely happens. The leading hat store proprietors do not care to disseminate much information on this subject because they sell hats with a guarantee to iron them for you at any time free of cost. If it were not for thfc common idea that ironinghurts the hat, the stores would be clogged with the mere business of ironinghats." —New York Press. 4 ATypical Case. A sad story has just come in janal boat from Cumminsvillek.i. patrolman on one of the out beats was informed by the 011 a railroad train that a'Uit in progress on the opposite ena of beat. He made a hurried trip to. point indicated, and as soon OS:', arrived there he asked if any one heard of a fight. The inhabitant formed him that there had murder there some time before,, that the victim had been dead' buried several weeks. Theo returned with all speed to thi# point which he started. awaited him. During his had been dismissed from i'