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The independent. (Oskaloosa, Kan.) 1860-1874, March 25, 1865, Image 1

Image and text provided by Kansas State Historical Society; Topeka, KS

Persistent link: https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn85029094/1865-03-25/ed-1/seq-1/

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VH0 sn.Tifc JtlBGE!
-nulJadce a man from manners?
- no aoaii rcow jiik.dj nu areas 7
Pauper may bo lit for prEceap1
Princes 9t for ometLIngless.
Crumpled ahirt and dirty jackat
. w: , Jlay.bc!oUnj the" golden ore
Of the deepest thoughts and faellcci
Satin TeaU could do no more.
There are tprings of crystal nectar,
Ever nelling out of atone ;
There are purple buds' and golden,
. . .Hidden, crushed and arergrown;
God, who counts by souls, not dressts,
-' Xoves and prospers you and me,
"U hile ho values thrones the highest,
But as pebbles In the sea.
Man, upraised above his fellows.
Oft forgets his fellows then.
Masters, rulers, lords, remember
That your meanest lands are men.
. Men by tabor, men by feeling,
Hen by thought, and men by fame,
Cbimin: equal rights to sunshine,
In a maa'i ennobling name.
There are foam-embroidenrd ceani,
. Thera are little weed-clad rills.
There are feeble, inch-high saplings,
. 'i Thera are cedars on the hills ;
God, who counts by souls, not stations,
Laves and prospers you and me ;
For,' to Him all Tahi distinctions"
Ara as pebbles in the sea.
TDlIlua; hands alone are builders T
r- -Of asattoD'a-vearlh or fame; "
Titled laziness is pensioned,
Fed and fattened by the same,
By the sweat of other' foreheads,
- Livlnj only to rejoice,
"While the poor man's outraged freedom.
Vainly lifeth op its voice,
Truth andjustice are eternal,
Born with loveliness and light;
Secret wrongs shall never prosper, -tviiile
there is a aunaj right;
God, whosa world-heard voice is singing
Boundless lose to jou and me,
Sinks oppression with Its titles,
, ! .As the pebbles In the sea.
Lo ! 1 see Ion?, blissful ages,
When these mammon days arc done,
reaching, lika agoMen ovening,
Forward to the setUng sun.
But If in yon immortal clime,
Where Cows no parting tear,
That root of earthly love may grow,
,- Which struck so deeply here,
) "Withhat a tide or boundless bliss,
A thrill of rapture wild,
An angel mother in the skies
Will greet her cherub ckl'.d.
1 v . : , sua. ataoniT.
Prodigal praise at the dead man's tomb,
It the aigUUngale's song in the deaf man's room
Si '
'You Tiave just returned, friend Man-
sorj, sitid Eivingston, 'from your West
rn journey V
Yes be replied, .'I have; and there
ras a
circumstance which will make it
the most memorable event in my whole
lifei' -'-
Indeed,. what wai that, my friend?
Ah, it would take more time than
5tber yon or I could spare,' replied
Hanson, 'for me to relate, and you to
listen to tbe particulars; bull will at
tempt, very brief sketch of the sub
stance. When I went to school in Con
nelicHt,Jl had a very dear friend and
aiEOcfa'te, named John McL d. He
was one of the .brighteat and most be
loved pspils in the school. He grew up;
paid'fek aidressis to a-Deautiful and
excellent youog lady, a member of the
church. At length he was married to
his Mary, and they prepared immedi
ately after that event, in pursuance of a
MvinuR nUn. to leave the State. The
Amy we-were to leparate, perhaps for
ever, I had a tender interview with my
bosom friend and his lovely wife; it was
deeply affecting to us all. The next
morning they departed, with the affec
tionate faTewells of many old and dear
friends and neighbors in the town where
they-were born and reared, and with a
bandsofsM provision made by the pa
rents of both; wbo were in affluent cir
cumstances. Tenjears elapsed, during
which time I was called to the Metbo
dkt niaistry is distant places, m my lot
tappesto be cast Not a word concern
ing tkeat' reached my ears in all that
tinte. The xourse of duty called me
then to tfie vicinity of tho place where
ay friends, had settled, and I resolved
to ge entof ay way considerably and
give.Jokn.and Marya call. Arriving
atlWe uwn,And,iaqairiDg for their res
idence, I was (old they 'lived some dis
tance front the centre of the village. At
lenglkl.CMnd ihe.pUce. At the first
of the miserable cabin made me sick,.
:tnd after hitching my horsed 1 scarcely
dared to enter. Knock, I couldisot;
there was no door, nothing but a blanket
stretched across the paasageRemov
ing this, alas.! whatvdid' I, behold 1
Jhtksjg&LMtiry Bitting on a stool, with
an infant on her lap, and another child
in the corner on the gronnd.for the cabin
had no floor.
O, sight of wo I liow altered, was the
lovely Mary T n ! "
'0, Mr. Manson, is it indeed you ?
We are ruined; John is lost, and the
children-and I are starving here. We
hare not had a morsel to eat since yes
terday morning.
'Great heavens' said I, 'and where
is John ?'
'He is at the store, and has not been
here for several days.'
I must see him, I added.
'Better not, sir, he is savage now, and
will ill-treat you.'
'I must and will see John.'
'I started immediately for the store
according to her direction. There was
no time to lose, for I was lo be at Con
ference, whither I was bound, at a cer
tain time appointed, 1 readily found
the store, and entered. The first Bight
disclosed four men playing cards at a
tabid. The next glance disclosed a man
stretched out along a whisky hogshead.
The landlord was sitting by, but he in
stantly hopped up and ran behind .the
counter to wait upon me, sunposinc 1
was a customer. Said I
Is John McL d here ?'
They looked at me, on hearing that
question, as if I had beon the 'Evil One,'
or the sheriff.
'What is that to you?' he sullenly
'I want to see him.'
Whilst I. was speaking I took another
sweep of the room with my oye, and
saw something like a man asltep in the
Is that John V
None of your business,' answered
the surly bar-keeper.
'If it is that unhappy man, you will
find il some of my business.'
So I went to him, recognized him,
though in this .shocking, beastly plight,
and herran to try and wake him. This
was no easy job, and while lwas aboat
it the rnmseller and his gnests remon
strated, telling me to go away, threat
ening chastisement, and showing vio
lence... T had. in my. hand a loaded whip,
and am not inferior, you know, in point
of wiry, muscular power. In the whole
of the twenty -seven' years I-have been
in the. ministry, J never felt so strong a
disposition as at that aoment, to give
four or five men a thrashing. . They
were intimidated, and I succeeded in
getting John upon his'Jegff, and trotting
him off homewards. My jresnce and
the exercisesobered him, 60,lhat when
he reached his hovel ho was in his right
I forgot to mention that when 1 first
went into the house, the child upou the
ground started up affrighted, running lo
her mother, crying .
Is he going to carry meto jail, moth
er, where father was V
And the mpiher sobbed upon my
hand as if her heart would break. Well,
1 conversed with them an hour, talked
of old times in Connecticut, the old vil
lae and school boys, He wes soften
ed, bis wife put in her earnest, almost
frantic plea. She felt this toAe indeed
the bourof destiny:
Do you think I can keep it V at
length asked the miserable man, once
so promising, now so fallen. 'Is it pos
sible for me to be saved ?'
'It is,' said I, with confidence and
hope, 'you can keep it, i Know you
cau, and in the name of humanity and
religion, try it, dear John, and God will
help you,'
At last be consented. We knelt down
on the earth tbere was. no cbafr or ta
ble in the house I took out the pledge
which I alway carry in say pocket, plac
ing iton the stool where Mary had been
sitting, and handed him nay .pencil. Hj
wrote his name. Notwitbitsnding his
condition, it was beautifully written, as
I afterwards observed, for he was an
excellent English scholar. ' We did not
rise till I had relieved my overburden
ed heart In prayer, and I prayed with
all my struggling soul, and his despar
ing wife joined mo'in all' the solemn in
vocation, Uiat the Father. of all .mercies
would receive the returning prodigal to
his arms, and that he night sever go
astray again.
Il was now&quite time for me to go
and resume my journey; but I could
notjeave the town before I called upon
the class lender, left him some money
for the family, and enjoined upon him
lo look after them, and throw around
John the shield of all good influences, to
prevent his suffering a relapse. What
ever further charges he should incur
on their account. I promised to Dav as
sooo as informed of them.
Another decade passed, during which
no tidings came to me at the East from
this interesting couple. At length I
was called again to visit those western
regions, and to pass near the residence
of this unfortunate brother. On reach
ing the town, my disappointment was
extreme, to learn that he had removed
to a distant county. I anticipated mis
fortune.but as the place designated was
not far off from ray intended route, I
resolved lo go on and see him. When
I entered the town of , in which
John was said lo live, I made inquiry
hr his dwelling, and was told it was the
second liouse on the left hand side of
the road. Being now so near, I hasten
ed onward eagerly, ami presently a nice
trained building painted white appeared.
I could not help putting up an ejacula-
tory prayer thai my dear fiiend might
be so happy as to occupy any house half
so respectable as this. Expectation now
became painfully intense. What in
mercy was I 6ent to see ? A sceno like
that, or worse, which, ten years before,
left such awful traces on the memory
never to be obliterated ? I could not
tell. At a sudden turn in the road, I
thought I discerned another white house
in the distance among the trees. Yes,
it was so, with green blinds, and as I
went nearer,, gravelled walks werescvn,
a handsome pailing and orntmcntal,
trees, and shrubbery. Surely, there is
a mistako in the direction; ibis cannot
be John's house ! Yet it is the second
on the left.
Fastening my horse to a hook, I went
lo the door and knocked. A girl just
on the verge of womanhood, openod'it.
Does Mr. McL d live here ? I
inquired, with Trembling voice..
He does, sir.'
'Is he or his wife at home ?'
'Mother is within, sir, but father is in
the field. Please walk in, sir.'
jay eye giancea mrougu tue open
parlor door. Thore was a handsome
chair and other furniture; but I saw no
more, for Mrs. McL d by this time
was informed of a gentleman's arrival,
and lost no time in making her appear
ance. 'Good God !' was all I remember
to have heard from her, as she rushed
forward on seeing me, and clasped me
by the neck. She almost fainted, and
shod a flood of tears, and my own con
dtiion was not much more composed.
Recovering a little, she informed me
that her husband was at home, but out
upon the farm. Too impatient to wait,
I hurried away to see him. He met
me as lie was coming home. As soon
as he knew who it was, he ran forward
and grasped me in his arms, saying, as
he strained me to his bosom.
'Thank God I thauk God I you are
my savior under Leaven. 'This is all
your work,' looking round, 0, I am
rejoiced that you are here to see it.'
When we had returned lo the house,
the ten year's history of strucule, re-
pentence and reformation,- was recount
ed. Prosperity was the consequence.
The dwelling was his, the farm and all.
His wife was happy. The beautiful
girl, almost a woman' now, was the dirty
child that was crawling on the ground
at my first visit. Tbere were Ihree
children now.
To crown the whole,' said he, 'after
I had preserved a year in abstinence
according to that blessed plodge, taken
on that awful day, on the stool in tho
log but, which rises to mo sometimes
with spectra horror after keeping it
sacredly a year, 1 committed myself to
the church, of which my wife, who has
been an angel helping me, was a mem
ber. Prosperity attended my worldly
business. I wanted to be more useful;
I needed something more; and commen
ced studies for the ministry. My dear
friend and brother, I am now a minister
of the everlasting gospel.'
TUa firare man wants no charnv' to
encourage him to dnty, and ihe good
man scorns all warnings that would
deter bin from fulfilling it.
Hope, like the rainbow.leads hs over
grows boys lo ran, wniio we pursue u
m va;p.
I'll Marry Him, I Heed a Home.
Many, many times' do these words
sound lite death knell'to. all earthly hap
piness; many, many times is this the
burden of a requiem to which Heaven
alone listens when the marriage vow is
plighted; a requiem which the fair, pale
bride' would not for the world speak
aloud, but which every heart-throb
thrusts homo to her burning spirit.evcu
while in deceitful mcckery she answers
the fatal "yes 1"
"I'll marry him.for I need a home."
Poor girlUhe gives her hand, but there
is no heart in the matter, she is clearly
aware of his unfitness, to make her
happj; she even shrinks, al first, with
ill-concealed inward, loathing, from tho
idea of surrendering herself to a man
whom her heart has not chosen. She
tries to summon courage sufficient to
refuse him; but she; is conscious of her
entire inability to depend upon herself.
She says, "he will at least keep me in
a respectable condition in life I must
marry." .And forthwith she stands at
the altar and plights a love she does not
feel. She becomes his wife; uot from a
pure sense of love and duty, but from
the mercenary desire to obtain a shelter
from the fierce storms whose violence
she is unable to resist by her own
powers. Helpless creature how de
serving of pity
"I'll marry him.for I need a home."
Young lady, is this to be the motive
that decides your choice ? Henven
forbid ! Arm yourself with a con
sciousness of power to grapple with
actual life for yourself. By a careful
process of self-culture prepare a true
womanly independence, should death
deprive you of your natural protectors
and supporters. Prepare to stand self
supported among the selfish throng
that crowd life s motley stage. Xpu
will then be at liberty to consult your
own heart, whenever a candidate for
your hand appears. You could even
venture to marry the man you loved,
even if he had no home, with the joy
ful thought of being ab!j to help him
get one and what a happy home would
that be I
'I'll marry him, for I need some one
to love some one who loves and cares
for me" this is the last reasoning.
With this your motto, this your aim,
you shall be ihe crowning glory of your
home, and your husband shall acknow
ledce you to be the good genius of his
existence; and this invaluable power of
self-reliance shall be a precious talisman
of safely, at all times and under all
circumstances, and will prepare you for
any crisis or condition Jo which you
may be. called,
'THmarry htm, for T need a home."
Yes, and a miserable, unhappy home
you will have, with nothing, but mer
cenary love in it. Your character shall
determine the question of your hus
hand's success fn the mighty battles of
life, for many a man of huni promise,
and golden gifts has been dragged deep
into despair br a weak minded, ineffi
cient wife, who "just married him to
get a home." She is hut weakness and
disease to his pinion, iustead of beauty
and vigor to his wings, which would
otherwise have borne him on to honor
and fortune.
Dying Nations.
Why do nations die? Cultivated
Greece and all conquering Rome; Van
dal, and Goth, and Hun, and Moor, and
Pole.and Turk.all dead or dying. Why?
Murdered" by nations morn powerful ?
Swallowed by earthquakes ? Swept
away by pestilence or pUgue, or starved
by pitiless famine? Not by any of these.
JJoi by ihe lightning and thunder; not
by the tompest and the storm; not by
poisoned air of volcanic fires did thejt
die I They perished by moral degrada
tion, the lenuimate result of gluttony,
intemperauce and effominancj. .Whan
a nation becomes rich, then there is
leisure and the means of indulging in
the appetites and passions of our nature,
which waste the body and wreck the
mind. As with nations, so with fami
lies, Riches take away tha wholesomo
stimulus of effort, idlensss opens the
floodgates of passionate indulgence, and
the heir of millions dies heirless and
poor, and both name and memory in
gloriously rot.
If, then, there is any irutu anu power
in argument, each man owe it to him
self, to his country, and, more than all,
to his Maker, to live a life of temper
ance, industry, and self-denial ns to ev
ery animal gratification; and with theso,
hnviiig an eye to the glory of God, this
nation -of ours will live with increasing
prosperity and renown until, with one
foot on land and another on the sea, the
angel of eternity proclaims time is no
WkatTlwy Say.
While the deacons were taking up a
contribution-in a church iuNew Hav
en, last Sunday, a Utile girt atked her
mother, "What do. those men pass
annd corn-poppers for?"
Ma.' said n little boy, 'why is a pos
tage stamp like a bad scholar?' 'I cau't
tell, my son. Why is it?' 'Became
it gets licked nnd put in a corner
LlngratitudetoPamttta... ,t
There is, a proverb that "a lather can
more easily maintain six ubildren.rthan
six children one father." Luther re
lates this story :-r-Tbere was once a
father who gave.up .everything to his
children his house, hia. fields, and
goods and expected -for this his child
ren would, support him. But after he
had been sometime with 'h'is soil, "too
latter grew tired of him', and said to
him "Father, I have had a son born to
me this night, and there where your
armchair stands, tho cradle must come;
will you not, perhaps, go to my brother,
who has a large-room ?" After he fiad
been some time with the second son, lie
also grew tired of him,, and said,
"Father, you like a, warm ioom, and
that hurts my head, Won't you go to
my Tirolhef, the baker V , The father
went, and after he bad been some time
with the third son, healso found him
troublesome, arid-said'tdbim, "Father,
tho people run in and out here all day
as if it were a pigeon house, nnd you
cannot baveyour noon-day"sIeep; would
you not be better off at'my sisler Kate's,
near the town wall ?" The old man re
marked to himself how the wind blew,
and said to Himself, "Yes, I will do so;
I will gond try it with my daughter.
Women have softer hearts."" But after
he had spent some time with his daugh
ter, she giew weary of him, and said
she was always so fearful, when her
father went to church or anywhere else,
and was obliged to descend the steep
lairs; and at her sister Elizabeth's
there was no steps to descend as she
lives on the ground floor. For the sake
of peace the old man assented, and
went io his other daughter. But after
some time, she, too, was tired of him,
and told him by a third person, that her
house near the water; was too damp for
a mnn suffeiing with gout, and her sis
ter the grave digger's wife.at St.. John's,
had much drier lodgings. The old
man himself thought she was right and
went outside the gate to his youngest
daughter, Helen. But after ho had
been three dnys with her, her littlo son
said lo his grandfather, "Mother said
yesterday to cousin Elizabeth that the
best chamber for you was such a one
as father digs."
These words broke toe' old man s
iieart, so that ho sank hack in his chair
and died.
A Sabbath Scuool Incidekt. At a
meeting in exeter Hall, London, where
there vs ft vast number of Sabbath
school children assembled, a clergyman
arose on the platform, and told ihera of
two bad little boys, whom be had once
known, and of a good little girl whom
he learned to know. This little girl
had been to sabbath -school', where she
had learned "lo do good everyday."
Seeing two little boys quarreling,- she
went up to them, told them how wick
edly they were acting, made them de
sist from fighting; and in ihe end told
them to attend Sunday school. These
boys were Tom and Jim. :'Now, chil
dren,' said the gentleman, 'would you
like to Bee 'Jim?'
All shouted with one voice, 'Yes,
'Jim, get up!' said the gentleman,
looking over to another part of the
staje. A reverend looking missionary
arose and looked smilingly, upon the
'.Now would you like to see.Toni?'
'"Ves! yes'.' responded through the
- 'Well, look at me I am Tom, and
i too have been, a .missionary tor many
Now, would you like to see little Ma
ry Wood.'
The response was even more loud
and earnest than bvfore, 'Yes.'
'Well, do you see lhat hdy over
there in the blue silk bonnet? that i
li title Mary Wood, and she is my wife!'
Self Dependence.
Many an unwise parent works hard,
and lives sparingly all lii's life, for the
purpose of leaving enough to give his
children;, a start in the world, as it is
called. Setting a young man afloat
with the money left. him. by his rela
tives, is like tyin a bladder under the
arms of one who caunot swim; ten
chances to one be will' lose his bladders
and go to the bottom. Teach him 16
swim, and he will not need the blad
ders. Give your child a sound educa
tion. See to it that his morals are pure,
his mind cultivated, and his whole na
ture made subservient to the laws which
rnvurn man. and von have riven what
will be of. more value than the wealth of
the Indie's. You have given him
start which no misfortune can deprive
him of. The earlier you teach him to
depend upon his own resources and the
blessing, of God, the better.
A doctor detained in court as a
witness, complained to the judge that
if he was kept from his patients they
might rttover m hit absence.
tr- The editor of the Aroostook
Timet, crowine ever a big egg, calls
upon bis cotemporariea to "beat it if
i ... On annM think aBvtuulr
mey Eu. www -.w-.w ....-. j -"-j
might beet an egg. .,.,-
A fop is known by the lighrnesa of
his head, and palish of his hat.
,k vc
Kiitokesb to 'h'Erro?--A -young
woman, some tisfte.'a'ro.eaetred a dry
goods store and wished-, to look-at say
era! things, and- among others at kid
gloves. After looking at ribbons, laces.
and sundry1 articles, she made a small
matter of a Tew cents." A gentleman
in, the store noticed thatrsbe bad con
cealed one pair of the. kid cloves which
Tiad Keen put on the'eounter for' her ex-
1' r rl T f - i t.-f ' ,
asinaiion.- fvmie ine ciera was malt
ing change, the .geatleiaanmanftged to
notify, the merchant of the theft. Ma
ny would have spoken very harshly and
reproachfully to the young woman, or.
perhaps have charged her. double for
the gloves, but a better spirit mo-red
this good merchant.' Wishing to speak
with her aside for a moment, he told
her that he was aware she had yielded
to a base temptation, and. had taken a
pair of gloves. Sha acknowledged her
guilt, and woald make any required
compensation But he "woald neither
take the gloves back.nqr take any com
pensation for them. Kindly and broth
er-like, he desired her to keep' them as
a warning, hoping that" no such tempta
tion would ever overcome, nee again.
Who could have done anything- morn
noble and worthy ?
In the battle of Waterloo, at a
moment when every thing depended on
the steadiness of a regiment of English,
at a particular point, where the enemy
charged fiecely with all his strength,
ceuner after courier kept dashing into
the presence of the Duke ,of Welling
ton, to tell him that they must be im
mediately relieved or "withdrawn, or
else ilioy -could give way. The answer
to them ail was the same, 'Stand firm.'
'But we shall perish,' exclaimed the of
ficer. 'Stand firm!' was the stirring
answer. 'You will find us there,' ex
claimed the officer, as he, galloped furi
ously back to the post of peril. And
there tlicy were found, every man of
the whole brigade, fighting to the death,
and it' was that firmness that gained the
Victory, though every man of them
perished. So must the soldier of Christ
stand firm, on the face of danger and
death. Il is n thousand tunes more
dangerous to yield than to stand and
fight. To yield js to perish.bul to fight
is certainly to conquer, though dying.
There- is no danger in dying 'for
Christ, no danger iri'slnuumg Sim, all
the danger is in yielding. Cheever.
A sudden gust of wind took' the par
asol from, the hand of its owner, aad a
met jjiucraiuei, uiuipu uis uuu ui
bricks, caught the parachute, and pre
sented it to. the loser, saying-, "if yea
were, as strong as yoa are handsome, it
wouldn't have got away from you."
"Which shall I thank yoa for first, the
service or the compliment ?" asked the
lady, smiling. "Troth, madam," said.
Pat, again touching the place where'
once stood the brim of what was once
a beaver, "that look ofrjqur beautiful
eye thanked me for both." .
A Title .girl whose parents had recent-,
ly been ejected from lodging on account
of their inability to pay their rent was
at a German .Sunday School when the
teacher questioned her:- -'Have vou
read your catechism?' 'Yessir.' 'Do
you know the history of the creation?'
'God made the w6rld and our first par
ents.' 'Why were Adam and Eve ex
pelled from Paradise?' I suppose- be
cause they couldn't pay the rent!'
A Miss Gilmore, somewhere
down Eist,was courted by a man whose
name was Hadducks, who told her that
he only wanted one gill more to make
him a perfect fish,
SW "I have a fresh cold," said a
gentleman to his acquaintance,
"Why do you have a, fresh one; why
don't you have it cistm"?"
A young lady, engaged in writing,
observed to a clergyman present, lhat
she was a Scribe. To which the man
in orders, with a sagacity and clerical
discernment .truly credible, replied,
"And fair I see," (Pharisee.)
Of all our passions, and appetites.the'
love of power is of the most imperious
and unsocial nature, siuco the pride of
one man requires' the submission of the
Men have worshipped soma fantastic
being for living alone in a wilderness;
but, social many rooms piace
no saints
upon the calendar.
You may speak out more plainly to
your associates, but not less courteous
ly, than you do. to strangers.
True friendship increases as life's end.
approaches; just as the shadow length
ens with every' degree ihe sun declines
towards 4is setting.
When is a ship like a vinter ? When
she is making port.
Be not deceived by outward appear
ances. Some persons act as though 'the only
way for them lo. rise was to'pull some
body else down. Such individuals have
small souls. ,, ,
A man acquires more glory by de
fending than accusing others. s.
Never marry but- for love;, but see.
.that you love what is lovclj;.
: ;-: -a- ; j-t
1 . ' "
. z -. ir ... io - .
O . - V. 'WQ " -
Traasf laatiae; Tree asi fflmfti.
We are often 'asked, "When is the
best-time to-transplant "treesandshrtibn?
To all raeb-.questuinefscwe woald say:
if your soil is well drained aad.tageoti
heart, it may be done now, withp the
single exception oi evergreens, not 11
'the soif'is- uot well- 'drained, don't set
oat.a .single tree .or shrub nntil it is.
Before' planting, plow iihe soil deep,
using a sub-soil plow; and be sure it
has not been exhausted b'y .former crops.
Trees need' food equally with any other
crop, and sorter more frota-tae want of
it than any. other. A coating: of freak
manure, applied just before planting, is
worse than useless. Doa't dig your
holer very deep, but be. sure and make
them wide enough, so that every root
may be placed in its nataral- poaitwny.
with plenty of space to spare. If yew
will plant in wet ground, set the room4
on the surface, and heap the soil over
them, but all snch cases should da left
until spring. The great secret of plan- t
ling, is to. obtain plants' with good roots
that have never been allowed to get dry. -filling
in carefully around every root
let with the hand, eo that no empty
space is left, nsiag mellow soil alone
for this purpose, witboat any manure;
and putting the yoang trees .very little
or no deeper in the ground, than they
were in the nursery. Grape vines may
be treated a little differently in regard'
to depth of setting. If the roots aad
branches are dry,. or partially so, whem
received, bury all ia the ground for
two or three weeks; this will often save
them. Trees or shrubs tha are liable"
to winter-kill, should' not be transplant-"
ed until spring, and many prefer spring
to- fall planting. Spring tra splinted
I plants are full of sap, and consequently"
gei a gooa start, du. mis is oi less ac
count than doinc- the work well.
How xo Kill Caxada Thistlbs.
Seeing a commnicatioa. from S. P.
Lilley, inquiring how. to kill Canada
thistles; I woald say. the best and surest
method that I have ever teen tried, is
frequent plowing. Begin is. the spring;
as soon as thsy get started five or six
mcucs nigh, ana turn mem an unaer
with the plow. Be careful not to leave
one' above gronnd. 'Repeat the plow
ing five or six times' in. the coarse of
the season, and yon, will .effectually kill
them. The method you propose of
salting them would be a tedious, process;
on a patch of any great size. I was
raised ia Vermont, where the tbistlee
were very thick, aad.raa among them'
barefoot, nfter the cows nnd making,
hay, till I hale even, the nameof them.
e '
Lna. Land that bas been a long
time' used, is fuH-iaf fibrous reels of
vegetables. On snab land ,- lime should
be usedjxmntifnljy to decompose the
old fibrous matter, and pulverize the
hnsrt and insoluble particles of toe
eirtrf. It eombiaesr witb the' acids of
the aarlh, BenUalisss thenaBd renders
the earth sweety In nil mnck land there
is a resinous matter that prevents the
decomposition of the vegetable matter.
Lime combines with' this resinons mat
ter, and soap, which then- aids decom
position, -v-
Rics BaiAD. Boil one pound and a
half of rice gently In tsan quarts of wa
ter and.a quart of skiraaftd milk; when
it has become a thick paste, mix it into
a paste of flour, and add in the usual
way ns much flour and j east 'as will
make good dough. To be made into
loaves, and bak-d ia.ihe usual way.
You may add more ripe, if you like, ia
the proportion of half a pound lo every
quart of water or milk.
Bath Casks.- Mix well together n
quarter of a pound of butter, half a
pound of flour, two eggs, and a table
spoonful of yeaat; set the mixture be-
lore tue nre io rise, anu wnen iuu bm
hiwn f.'TVtftail still twn rmnrps nf rina
powdered sugar, and half an ounce of
caraway seed. Roll the paste out into
little cakes. ''Bake them on tins.
An Excxixxkt Common Frijcd Cask.
One cupful of sugar, one cupfal of
cream, three eggs, some cinnamon or
nuisaag, and a leaspoofcfu.1 of saleratnn,
Cat in rumbles or in strips, and twin.
and fry in lard.
T..n, .w rZoTrtrtTT? fAroa fin. nn,,t
.r -,-,,1 t,i;, -A,i tv.,,- Uma. .r..
U BllbCU -n.SU14 AMWaif wus Itatv ewwuw
ful of flour, a quart of new milk, four
eggs well beaten.aad a litt'e salt. Bake
them oa a soapstoue griddle.
Soda Biscuit. One pint of sweetf
milk. -three of sour, butter of the size
lot two eggs, two teaspoonsfui of soda.
and four spoonsful 01 creamtartar.' rui
in flour last and'knead well.
Molasses Prxs. Take two teacups
of molasses, one of vinegar, and three
heaping lablespoonsful of flour, wcrup
in a cup of water; add a lump of butter
the size of alien's eg.5; stir ii while
boiling until it becomes a thick pas'e.
Flavor with nutmeg tir lemon.
A Dish or Sxowv
T;ike n Urge
pi-crs', pare Oaf
cocoanut, break it in
the- dark skm, and alien grate on a
coarse grater: ijServe ihe grated nut in
small glass dishes, to-lx--. en iri ith ices,
preserves, jellies or joints
t i

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