Phillipsburg herald. [volume], June 26, 1884, Image 2

About Phillipsburg herald. [volume] (Phillipsburg, Kan.) 1882-1905

Image provided by: Kansas State Historical Society; Topeka, KS

                
THE BABY OVER THE WAY.
Across In my neighbor's window.
With its drapings of eatiu and lace,
I see, 'neath a crown of ringlets,
A baby's innocent face.
His feet in their wee, red slippers,
Are tapping the polished glass,
And the crowd in the street look upward,
And nod, and smile, as they pass.
Just here, in my cottage window,
Catching flies in the sun,
With a patch on his faded apron,
Stands my own little one.
pia face is as pure and handsome
As the baby's over the way.
And he keeps my heart from breaking,
At my toiling, every day.
Sometimes, when the day is ended,
And I Bit in the dusk to rest.
With the face of my sleeping darling
llugged close to my lonely breast,
I pray that my neighbor's baby
-May not catch Heaven's roses, all ;
But that some may crown the forehead!
Of my loved one, as they fall.
And when I draw the stocking
From his tired little feet,
And kiss the rosy dimples
it his limbs so round and sweet
I think of the dainty garments
Some little children wear,
And irown that my God withholds them,
From mine, so pure and fair.
May God forgive my envy !J
1 knew not what I said ;
My heart is crushed and humbled,
My neighbor's boy is dead !
' I saw the little coffin,
As they carried it out to-day ;
A mother's heart is breaking
In the mansion over the way.
The light is fair In my window,
The flowers bloom at my door ;
My boy is chasing the sunbeams
That dance on the cottage floor.
The roses oi health are blushing
On my darling's cheek to-day ;
But baby is gone from the window
Of the sad noase over the way !
Unknown.
A TItEASUKE IN HANNAH.
It was here In Indianner,
That I sparked aud married Hanner,
Which is probably the reason
I've a story to relate.
Well, the world was all agin me,
And there weren't no good luck In me,
And my toes grew sore a-kickin'
'Gin the horny shins of fate.
On the farm somehow or other,
Storms kept c hasin' one a-nuther.
Till they trampled down my harvest,
And they mildewed out my hay,
SUll, I'd time enough to gather
All my crops in puriy weather,
If I hadn't run lor office,
Which (the office; ran away.
But my Hanner, in a manner,
Held aloft the family banner,
For she kept the pot a-bilin',
Day and night she'd spin and weave,
While 1 kept a lectioneerin',
Till the neighbors got to sneerln'
Jefet because she made the livin'
And 1 thought we'd better leave.
Well, we kind o took to roaming,
Till we lauded in Wyoming,
It's the most confounded kentry
That a lloosier ever struck 1
Injln fighters, women's righters,
Long-nosed 1 ankees, prome inditers
I'm all business, but what's business,
Where no one but fools have luck?
Fust I merchandized and busted,
For a plus oi black terbacker,
Let alone a bag of flour,
But my Hanner went to cookin',
And lust thing 1 knowed, sh3 took In
Twenty boarders, and the money
Goodness sakes, she made a power !
Well, my life was growin' sunny,
With the shine of Manner's mouey.
But the woman righters ran her
For a Justice of the Feace.
. And you bet it riz my dander
For to 6ee her turnin' gander,
Kupercedin' uv her husband,
Leavin' him among the geese.
But the long nosed pome Inditers,
Injin lighters, women's righters
'Lected her, but you can bet yer
Boots 1 didn't lectioneer,
Ard told her, that's what I did,
That I'd finally decided
That the kentry wasn't healthy,
And we'd better come back here.
So we come back to Indianner,
And I must coniess that Hanner
Has 'lectioneered so honest.
That she hasn't spent a dollar,
And my life is once more sunny,
Hanner" s keeriul of my money,
And she's now a modest female,
Not ashamed her spouse to foller.
NAMESAKES.
"Close the shutters, Kitty. "What a
wild night it is, to be sure!"
"The rain is coming down in floods,"
said a young girl, peering out into the
pitchy darkness.
A barrack ground, stiff and ugly under
the most favorable circumstances, look
ing like some desert waste in the howl
ing wind and driving rain, was just vis
ible. "Why, Aunt Bell,,' she continued,
pausing with one hand on the shutter,
"here is a name scratched on this pane
of gass. I never noticed it till this
minute.
"What is the name?" asked the
eld lady, indifferently, half asleep in her
cosy arm-chair by the fireside.
"K i n 1 o c h, Kinloch, Scots Greys,
1816," read the girl; "and then 'Kitty'
written very badly just below."
"Kinloch! Kitty!" said Aunt Bell,
starting up with sudden interest. ""Why,
that must be the same man!" Tken she
sank back again murmuring: "Ah, Kit
ty. There was love in those days and ro
mance, too!"
"Is there no love now?" said her niece,
coming to her aunt's side and kneeling
down on the hearth rug.
The ruddy flames and glow from the
fiie lit up the girl's chestnut hair, fair
complexion, and bright hazel eyes.
Aunt Bell looked lovingly down at the
piquant little face held up to her, and
said: "Now and again we meet some of
the right kind; but would you like to
hear the story of that namesake of yours,
Kitty?"
" V ery much."
"Well, fifty years ago, as you can eas
ily reckon, I was a girl of 19, and was
invited to spend the Summer months
with my aunt, who had one of the finest
houses in this county of Kildare.
"Several regiments were stationed at
the camp and at a neighboring village,
so you may imagine the girls of the party
and I looked forward to having a gay
time. Oh! those few short Summer
months, Kitty! I grow young again
when I think of them! The rides across
the Curragh in the fresh morning air,
when in parties of ten or twelve, we
would gallop for miles on those breezy
stretches of emerald turf; the handsome
officers who enjoyed having hide and
seek in the dusky evening hours all over
the old-fashioned house, starting out of
the corners and from behind the doors
and chasing us breathless down the
slippery oaken corridors. Then, tired
out, we would stroll into the garden, and
under the trees there would be songs,
flirtations, and whispered confidences
and promises made by the score and
never fulfilled.
"What a mad, merry time it was! And
the maddest, the merriest, the hand
somest of all was a young Scotch lieuten
ant, Kinloch Kinloch. His mother was
Irish, and had bequeathed her good
looks and. propensity for joking. And
now for Kitty, the heroine. She wa3
the daughter of an old gardener wno
lived about a mile away from my aunt's
house, and of all the distractingly pretty
women that have made men do foolish
things, I am sure Kitty was one of the
prettiest."
"What was sne liter"
"No description could come up to the
original ; but I can tell you that she has
the Irish blue eye; a complexion like
milk ; hair of the bngntest and silkiest
chestnut, curling in little rings all over
her brow and neck, and a slender, up
right figure, the envy of half our girls.
One day, as a large party of us were
standing chattering under the trees.
Kitty passed us with a basket of fruit,
"Kinloch for the first time noticed the
girl, and seemed struck dumb with
amazement.
"He stood at a little distance and kept
his eyes fixed on her.
"It was love from that very moment,
and every one noticed it.
"All the other young fellows, of course,
immediately s.warmed round the girl's
basket, and fiegan helping themselves
with not so much as "By your leave."
Kitty began expostulating, but they
put her off.
" 'Sure Kitty,' said one, 'and you would
like us to have the best, I'll be bound.'
"And another, ' Mahone, one kiss from
that cheek with the bloom of the peach
upon it will save you from these rascally
thieves, lor I will fight them all for such
a favor!'
" But Kitty was not to be bribed, and
seemed about to resign nerseu to tne
loss of her fruit, when Kinloch shoul
dered his way into the group, and giving
the last speaker a friendly push, cried,
Leave the girl alone, Grant !' and then,
turning to Kitty, took the basket out of
her hands, saving. ' It is too heavy for
your little arms, and there will come no
one stealing your fruit now, I'm think
ing!'
"'I thank you,' said Kitty, gratefully,
and walked along by his side.
" 'That is the first time 1 have seen
' my lady' allow any one to fetch or carry
for her,' said my brother.
"There is no gainsaying Kinloch, then,
as I can tell vou. Harry ' I cried : 'for he
alwavs cets his own way in what he
want?.'
" 'EsDeciallv when it has to do with
pretty girls !' sneered Grant.
" 'Treason!' we all shouted in a breath,
' Kinloch is the same to us all, to every
body.'
" 'Of course said Grant, recovering
his temper; ' but are you not all pretty
girls?'
"We laughed, and did not deny the
soft impeachmant; so the momentary
breach was healed.
"That was the last time we noticed
Kitty coming up to our house with her
fruit.
"We knew nothing we could have said
or done would have prevented her,
but we were not quite so sure about Km
loch, who, ever since that little episode,
had wandered about like a distressed
lover.
"One day we met Kitty in on of the
lanes and said to her, 'How is it you nev
er come our way now?'
"The girl blushed.
"Father prefers to take up the things
himself," she murmured: for which
painfully apparent fib we instantly for
gave her.
"The days passed on, and Kinloch
who had formerly been the .whole life
of our expeditions, was now generally
absent.
"Where he had been was evident, for
we often caught a glimpse of chestnut
hair shining through the trees, or the old
picturesque shawl draped over Kitty's
head and shoulders, with her round,
dimpled arms appearing just below.
"Kinloch's regiment had been ordered
away to another part of Ireland; and one
morning a few days before he was to go
we begged for his company to a picnic
we nad arranged to nave witn one or
two other families.
"Thanks, very much," he said, "but I
am afraid I shall be too busy."
"Oh! but you must come," we all cried.
'We counted upon you."
"But I ! have so many things to do
to-day."
"Here he stopped and blushed. m
"We girls were looking very inquis
itive, and some of the men had a per
ceptible sneer on their faces.
"He has got his lady-love to bid
goodbye to I daresay." suggested Philip
Grant.
"Kinloch turned on him with blazing
eyes. We all kept back. They were like
globes of fire.
" 'Confound it, sir!' he cried," and sup
pose I have! what is that to you?'
"We all looked at Philip, he was very
white, but he shrugged his shoulders in
differently and wisely forebore to an
swer. "Kinloch's temper cooled down as rap
idly as it had arisen.
" 'I am sorry to disappoint you, girls,'
he said, gently, 'but you'll have to excuse
me.' And, bowing he walked off.
"We watched his upright, manly fig
ure striding along till he disappeared and
then we all looked at each other and
sighed.
" 'A clear case,' said one girl.
" 'Head over heels.'
" 'What will he do?'
" 'How can he marry her?'
" 'Kitty can look after herself.'
"'But I'm sure she is in love; she
never has been before.'
" 'He will go away and forget her
He gave the bridle rein a shake,
Said, 'Adieu! for evermore,
My love!
And adieu for evermore.'
" 'Never!' said I; 'nothing of the kind
will happen. I am sure he will marry
her.'
"That evening Kinloch made his way
to the old gardener's cottage. His face
was pale, but he had a determined look
in the corners of his mouth, and he car
ried his head well thrown back and
stepped lightly along.
"The girl had just set her father's sup
per before him, and had gone out to rest
in the garden and watch the still beauties
of the night.
The air was fresh and in the heavens
the full moon was hurrying through her
star-spangled course. The reeds in a
neighboring stream rustled and shivered
in the breeze, and a large night moth or
two came sailing up and bumped against
Kitty's white kerchief, on their way to
the fatal candle that was shining in the
window.
The girl looked up to the sky and
tears filled her eyes.
Was it the brightness of the moon?
"Why do you weep, Kitty?" said a
voice at her side.
No need to turn to look for the speak
er! The girl buried her face in her hands
and sobbed afresh.
"You are going away?" she said.
"Yes, I am going away," said Kinloch;
"but you will come with me, Kitty, for
you love me."
"1 love you, but i snail not accompany
"liut you must, x nave spo&en to
the old priest, and he is ready to marry
us."
Kinloch," she said, looking up into
her lover's face with a sweet, serious
smile, "you have made me love you, for
I could not help it; but you cannot make
me marry vou."
"Oh, but you will, darling; won't you,
Kitty?" he went on eagerly. "You know
I can marry now, because I came of age
the other day, and I have much more
than my pay now. Is that what you are
thinking of?"
"How could I think about. that? Why
will you not understand, Kinloch? Your
proud old father 'and your silver-haired,
stately mother; how could they bear for
one of their sons to marry an Irish peas
ant girl?"
" 'You have nothing to learn from the
highest lady in the land, my darling,' he
said, fondly; 'and younger sons are not
"But she shook her head resolutely.
"'And this is how you lightly fling
away a man s happiness for lifer
" 'A few days pain now to save you
years of regret in the future.'
"The young man looked at the girl
perplexed. Where could she have
learned such sentiments? Where had
she gained the strength to express them
so freely r
"He then said, slowly and solemnly, as
if taking an oath: '.Look yonder, Kitty!
That is the evening star. So surely as it
will shine in the heavens five, ten or
twenty years, as surely will my love re
main uncnanged ior you. sua me come
back when you will, Kitty, and if I have
breath in my body and strength to do it,
I will come.'
" 'Come back in ten years, Kinloch. I
will be true to vou and wait till then. I
will try and improve myself make my
self more worthy of your love.'
" 'Keep as you are, Kitty remain un
changed, said the young man, jealously,
'lest when I come again I shall not see in
you the last look 1 took awav witn me,
my life, my love!' he murmured passion
ately; and kissing her sweet brow and
mouth, folding her in one last embrace,
he sighed and left her.
"She turned to go into the cottage. A
large downy moth which had been
bumping against the little window sailed
in before her, circled thrice round the
candle, and flew into its alluring bright
ness. The candle flickered and went
out; the moth dropped down with a thud
upon the table, dead.
"Kitty, with eyes blinded by tears and
with shaking hands, relit, though some
what tardily, the light.
" ' Kitty ? my girl,' said the old man
pointing significantly to the singed in
sect, ' don't be as foolish as that silly
thing. Its eyes were dazzled, and it had
no strength to resist the fatal fascination.'
" ' Father,' said the girl, stooping down
and kissing his gray locks, ' you may
trust me. "
Here Aunt Bell stopped.
"Is it interesting? Shall I go on?"
"Oh, do! Did he come back ?" said her
niece.
"Well, the years passed on, and the
girl was ioked and teased, and had many
offers of marriage: but she was firm and
would listen to none.
"At last the voung fellows grew weary
of their fruitless attempts at love-making
and the greater part leit her alone.
"A few, more unkind, would ask when
she expected her young gentleman Home
and taunted her in cutting speeches and
insinuations.
" Nine years went by, and then there
came the battle of Waterloo, when olh
cers and men went down in hundreds to
gether.
" Still no word from Kinloch, and Kit
ty's heart, which had never failed in its
lightness, nor her step in its speed, now
sank and faltered for the hrst time.
" Early in the next year in fact
on
New Years night the omcers gave
a
ball, and every girl and young man
for
miles around was invited.
"Girls were in great demand, and
went down to my aunt's house especially
for that night.
'I was anxious to see Kitty myself,
and to find out how the years had passed
over her head.
"You think, perhaps, 26 was rather old
to be called a girl do you, Kitty?
"Well, I felt almost the same as I did
when I was 16, and quite as ready to en
joy a dance or flirtation, I can assure
you.
"Kate Danly that was her name
went to help the ladies unshawl them
selves, and to be ready with needle and
thread when an unhappy damsel with
torn skirt or flounce should require her
assistance.
"She was then 28, and the young girl
ish beauty had developed into the most
lovely of women. Only when her face
was at rest, and you caught the suspicion
of an anxious heart upon it would you
have guessed her age.
"She wore a pale tea-rose-tinted gown,
with ruffles of lace of her own making at
the neck and sleeves.
"It was a wild and stormy night with
out, just such a one as this, but it only
served to enhance the brightness and
animation of the scene within.
"The dancing of the high-heeled shoes
and the silvery laughter rose higher
than the wail of the wind, and the tink
ling wine-cups drowned all sound of
rain.
"Suddenly there was a lull; we stopped
in our dances ; a chill blast seemed to
have. entered the room; we turned and
saw a silent, dark figure standing in the
doorway. -r-
"He was tall and handsome, but his
large black cloak, carefully slung over
his shoulder, was dripping with the rain
and making large pools on the floor.
His legs, booted and spurred, were mud
up to the hips.
Just at that moment the clock struck
twelve, and the year 1816 was broken.
Some of the "more excitable girls
screamed and then ran behind their
partners.
Was it apparition!
for the coming year?
Was it an iil omen
"I seem to frighten you, good people.
Does nobody know me?"
Kitty at that moment was bringing!
She heard the voice and turned round,
trembling, with a wild cry. "Kinloch,
Kinloch, I knew you would come back!"
And amid a crash of breaking glas3 for
she let the vessel slip from her hands
she bounded to bis side and then
disappeared in the folds of his great
"How splendid, Aunt Bell!" said
her niece, drawing a deep breath; "but
if she married him then I do not see
why she should not have done so be
fore." "Ah, but she was a wise girl, little one;
she knew it would test his constancy
and prove if he really loved her. A
young man's love at twenty-one, as she
Knew very wen, would not be his choice
at thirty-one."
"What became of them, aunt."
"Oh, th ey married and traveled about
a good deal, and finally both died out in
India within a few months of each other.
There was one son, and I believe he is
in the army also. Come, Katie, I shall
go to bed and not wait up any longer for
your father."
lhere is a new lieutenant comms in
Mr. Perry's place," said -her niece as she
bade her good night.
"The young men are not what thev
used to be," sighed the old lady. "Some
little whipper-snapper, I'll be bound,
with feet that would go in your slippers.
vjooo. nignt, cnudiei '
Kitty went slowly down stairs and non-
uereu over m ner mina tne story oi tne
beautiful Kate Daly and the faithful Kin
J 1 . 1 " t At 1 - 1
loch. She went to the window and undid
the shutter. She pictured to herself the
young man coming to the window and
scratching his name on the glass, and
then taking the girl's hand in his own,
slowly guiding it just below.
bhe leant in the deep shadow of the
window seat and strove to realize each
scene in the little drama. There, under
that very door, stood the black robed
figure they had all shrunk away from in
the midst of their mirth. What? Was
she dreaming? What stood there at that
very moment?
A figure darker than the gloom of the
room. The rain poured in floods outside,
and the wind whistled and moaned
round the corners of the house.
The figure came a little further into
the room. She saw, by the misty light,
he was a tall man with a dark cloak over
his shoulders, booted and spurred, with
mud up to his hips.
She felt as if the whole scene was to
be played again before her very eyes;
but she looked in vain for the pretty
girls and ladies in their puffed sleeves
and short waists, their flowing curls and
high-heeled shoes. Kitty where was
she?
And here she blushed to herself in the
darkness.
There was a Kittv: but not the one.
The man came up to the window, evi
dently thinking no one in the room.
The girl shrank back as the wet cloak
brushed against her cheek.
"Kinloch!" she said, half doubting
whether the figure would answer, for she
could hardly tell yet if she was dreaming
or no.
"Who spoke my name?" he called out,
startled and looking round.
l did," said Kitty, leeling very
abashed, almost at his elbow.
He glanced down, drawing away his
cloak.
"I am sure I beg your pardon.
thought the room was empty. I must
have come into the wrong quarters ; ar
riving so late I must have mistaken the
block. I hope you will forgive such an
intrusion?"
Kitty's grand castles in the air all fell
to the ground with a crash. How com
mon-place ! He was only the new Lieu
tenant, after all; but he did not look the
whipper-snapper her aunt had prophe
sied.
"Then you are not Kinloch?" she said
in a disappointed tone.
"My name is Kinloch," he answered,
wita a pleasant smile.
"My aunt was telling me about this
Kinloch." And Kitty tapped the frame
with her finger. "I will tell you the sto
ry some day, u you like : but you came
into the room just as she said your name
sake did, dressed in the same way and
everything. But, there ! I suppose you
are not even a relation."
"He was my father," said the young
man. quietly. "So no wonder we are
something alike."
It was now his turn to say in a disap
pointed tone. "But your name is not
Kitty, I am sure."
"Yes, it is," said Kitty, eagerly. Then
she stopped ; a sudden rosy flush rushed
over her face. "At least, no it is"
But she could not deny it, for it was
Kitty.
"These are our namesakes ; shall we
write our names below them, Kitty?"
"Some day, perhaps."
A Memorable Scene.
From Ben Perley Poo re's Letter.
The electoral votes for President and
Vice-President were counted in the hall
of the House, on Wednesday, the 13th of
1861. The Senators went there in proces
sion, headed by the Vice-President, ad
vanced up the middle aisle and took
seats in the area in front of the Speaker's
desk. Vice-President Breckenridge took
the chair of the Speaker, while the latter
sat at his right hand. The tellers took
position at the clerk's desk. Senator
Trumbull, of Illinois, Representative
Pnelps, of Missouri, and Washburne, of
Illinois, were the tellers; on their right
was the clerk of the Senate, Mr.. Dick
ens, and on on the left Mr. Forney, of.
the House. The Vice-President said that
according to the Constitution, both
Houses of Congress had assembled in
order that the votes might be counted
and declared for President and Vice
President of the United States, who were
to take their seats on the termination
of the present term, the fourth of March,
1861.
It was his duty to open the electoral
votes, and he proceeded to perform that
duty. The votes were accordingly open
ed by States, and the separate vote of
each State announced by the tellers.
When the name of South Carolina was
called, a suppressed laugh was heard
from all parts of the House. Vice Presi
dent Breckenridge then announced the
whole vote to be: For Lincoln and
Hamlin, 180 votes; for Breckenridge and
Lane, 72 votes; for Bell and Everett, 39
votes; for Douglas and Johnson, 12 votes.
He therefore declared Abraham Lincoln,
of Illinois, and Hannibal Hamlin, of
Maine, to be duly elected President and
Vice President of the United States.
There was no demonstration of any kind
on the floor of the House, or in the gal
leries. The Senate then retired and the
House adjourned.
A Wily Toastmaster.
Philadelphia Press.
Not long since Mr. J. Russell Lowell
was present at a London dinner, at which
he did not expect to speak, and hence
was not prepared. Toward the end of
the feast, however, the obsequious toast
master approached him, and put into his
hand the usual, slip of paper, which, in
nine cases out of ten, provokes immedi
ate indisposition. In real or feigned
horror, the American Minister exclaimed:
"What! Am I to speak? Why on earth
didn't you give me notice?"
"Bless you," replied the toastmaster,
"we never do; if we was to, we should
have a gent talking all night."
Spraying Orchards. , !
Country Gentleman.
H. bhepley. of Nevada. Mo., reported
to the Missouri State Horticultural Socie
ty an account of his experiments in
spraying orchards with London purple,
to destroy the canker worm, and he
stated the expense of the operation. The
mode oi spraying for the coddling worm
is quite similar, although performed us
ually at a ainerent time in tne season.
Mr. bhepley did his work on a large scale.
at an expense of only three cents a tree,
in the following manner: He placed three
empty coal oil barrels in a wagon and
niiea mem wun water; ne tnen tooK a
pound of London purple for each barrel,
nrst mixing it wen in a pau of water,
and pouring it into the barrel. The wag
on was driven along the windward side
of the row of trees if there was much
wmu, ana wun a iountain pumn witn a
fine rose, the liquid was thrown over the
trees, lhe water m the barrels must be
constantly stirred during the operation,
to prevent tne poison from settling,
Great care should be taken not breathe
any of it, nor to allow the wind to carry
the liquid toward men or horses. With
two teams and four men three or four
hundred trees could by sprayed in a day.
The entire cost, including pumps, bar
rels, poison and labor, was about three
cents a tree for twice spraying.
We have never known an instance.
out of many trials, where this treatment
was not entirely successful with the
canker worm, or where it did not de
stroy most of the coddling worms' and
give much fair fruit which before was
nearly ruined with this insect. In rainy
weatner it snouid be repeated two or
three times, the first applications being
wasned on. we nave preferred
green to London purple, as being
uniform in its degree of strength
not adulterated.
Paris
more
when
For the canker worm the work should
be done early in the Spring ; for the cod-
aiing worm wnen tne apples are hall an
inch m diameter, and repeated a few
days afterwards. After spraying, sheep
or other animals should not be turned
into the orchard to eat the scatered
herbage, till a heavy rain has washed off
tne poison.
It mav be interesting to remark that
the young coddling insect, when hatched
from the egg laid in the blossom end of
the fruit, weighs less than a two hun
dred thousandth part of a man, and it is
therefore killed by a quantity so small
as to have no effect whatever on human
beings. Even this minute portion
all washed off by rains before the fruit is
grown.
Best Way to Apply Poultry Manure.
Prairie Farmer.
If every farmer, and every keeper of
fowls, even on a city lot, only knew how
valuable poultry droppings really are
not a handful of them would ever be
allowed to go to waste. A single table
spoonful where needed will make
thrifty hill of corn, where, without it
there would be only a sickly growth of
puny stalks. Prof. Voelcker, of the Royal
Agricultural Society of England, advises
as the least expensive and best way of
using poultry manure to mix it with dry
earth, ashes, and the like, into a com
post. Mixed with about twice tha quan
tity of dry, earthy matters of this kind
it will soon be reduced into a fairly dry
and powdery state, in which it mav be
readily sown broadcast or with the drill,
and found useful in growing any kind of
garden vegetables. or root crops, such
as turnips, carrots and mangels, it is ad
vised that poultry manure be mixed,
after reducing to a powdery state, with
an equal weight of superphosphate, and
the mixture drilled inlat the rate of 500
pounds to the acre. In making poultry
manure into compost with earth, Prof.
Voelcker warns against mixing quick
lime with it, as the effect would be to
liberate the ammonia, the most of which
would escape and be lost. On the
other hand, he recommends as a positive
advantage mixing soot with this com
post. In the absence of soot, the next
best thing, in his opinion, is to mix
burnt plaster, to which a small quantity
of superphosphate is added, the free
acid of which will effectually prevent the
escape of the ammonia. A mixture of
two parts burnt plaster and one part su
perphosphate may be kept in readiness
to mix with the fresh chicked droppings
for the purpose of absorbing the excess
of moisture, and thus facilitate its being
reduced to a dry and friable nature.
Three parts of fresh chicken manure and
one part of the preceding mixture of
burnt plaster and superphosphate if kept
under cover for a few days and turned
once or twice during the time, and then
passed through a screen or sieve, will be
found to be most efficacious when ap
plied at the rate of from 600 to 800
pounds to the acre.
A Bleb Little Girl.
Washington Republican.
The richest little girl in the world is
the seven-year-old daughter of Captain
George H. Perkins, of the navy, wno is
well known in this city. She is worth
$7,000,000 in her own name, the amount
having been left her recently by her
grandfather, William F. Weld, of Boston.
Mr. Weld was the father of the little
girl's mother, and when he died four
heirs, including the child, came into pos
session of the bulk of the fortune, $28,
000,000, which was divided into four
portions. The sum of $20,000 and a val
uable residence in Boston were be
queathed to Mrs. Perkins, wife of the
Captain, and $20,000 annually to be used
in cariDg for the little millionaire heiress
until she reaches the legal age and
claims her millions. This makes Capt.
Perkins' income in actual cash $40,000,
without including his Government sal
ary or the rental from his magnificent
residence in Boston. Secretary Chandler
yesterday characterized the story that
Capt. Perkins had resigned from the
navy to look after his estate as untrue,
and said that he had been ordered on
board the steamer Hartford. The Cap
tain had applied for one year's leave,
with a view of resigning at the end of
the year. The Department, however,
declined to grant the request, as he had
been away from duty for two years. The
Secretary said the Captain was one of
the best officers in the service, and that
he would not resign because he loves
sea life too well.
The Secretary to the Queen,
' The Times announces "the resignation
of Mr. Lohlein, who for many years has
acted as a Secretary to the Queen at
Windsor." Underneath is another para
graph, in which it is said Lohlein offers
a reward of 50 for information which
will lead to the discovery of the person
who broke into his room in Windsor Cas
tle about two months ago and abstracted
a quantity of valuable jewelry.
There has been a great deal of gossip
about the business, and the "resigna-
tion" La3 caused almost as much excita
ment in the royal household as did ths
death of John .Brown. Lohlem came
Coburg with Prince Albert in 1840, and
he was in his service as principal valet
till the Prinee's death, after which ha
was transferred to the Queen's establish
ment. Lohlem was not a "Secretary "
but was "personal servant" to the Queen.
He was the only person about the Court
with whom John Urown never attempt
ed in any way to interfere, but "the
TTicrhlanrlpr" xsrtxt Knrmnspfl tn rvA wnr
jeafous of Lohleins influence. His sud
den disappearance irom the scene is,
therefore, considered to be decidedly re
markable, and altogether it is a very
curious affair. Lohlein has lived en
tirely at Windsor for a long time past,
and has occupied a house within the
Castle precincts. He retires on a good
pension.
Disagreed About Cooking'.
Boston Herald.
A young married couple, Charles and
Nellie Jourdan, were before Justice
Smith at Essex Market yesterday, saya
the New York World, the former to. an
swer for threatening to abandon his
wife.
"Young man," said the magistrate
sternly, "why do you wish to abandon
your wife ?"
Because of her cooking," he answered.
"Her tea, coffee and soup taste like dish
water, and the meat and vegetables are
only half done. J udge, what would you
do if you had a wife who couldn't cook ?"
"Judge," said the wife, her eyes flash
ing indignantly, "I'd like to see a women
of my age beat me cooking a beefsteak.
The trouble with my husband is that he
is not used to my cooking. His mother
is one of these old-fashioned cooks."
"That's just it," ejaculated the husband,
"and that's the reason I wanted you to
tak cooking lessons from her."
"What do you take me for, anyway ?"
said the angry wife. "I think that my
mother is as smart as yours, and I learned
from her."
"She taught you to make tea and cof
fee very nicely, " sneered the husband.
"She did, and if you come to my house,
Judge, I'll give you the nicest cup of cof
fee you ever tasted in your life. Oh, you
won't come. Then let me fetch you a
cup to-morrow."
"I never drink coffee," said the justice.
"Then let me tell you why the coffee is
so weak. He has a schedule of how
much and what I should buy during the
week. I'm allowed half a pound of cof
fee a week. Think of it, Judge. Half
a pound and two cups each a day. Do
you wonder now why it's weak?"
The magistrate smiled and severely
lectured the husband, after which the
couple left the court room.
- A Wealthy Tramp.
Atlanta Constitution.
Rufe Lickskillet is one of Atlanta's
most worthless vagrants He goes about
whining and begging for a dime, when,
if work is offered him, he is too busy to
attend to it.
A few days ago he approached Mr.
Whangup and asked for the small sum
of five cents.
"Oh, by the way, Rufe," said Whang
up, "I've got some work for you to do a
fence to repair; what'll you take the job
for? About two days' work."
"Ten dollars," promptly answered
Rufe.
"Ten dollars!" gasped Whangup. "The
idea; why, there's no material for you to
furnish."
"I know that," smiled Rufe, "but you
must remember the time I'll put on it.
My time is money to me."
"Then you should quit begging."
"Why," asked Rufe.
"Because, if time is money to you
you ought to be pretty flush, as you've
got so much of it to spend in bar
rooms." Decorated Dinner Plates.
Troy Times.
The wife of Senator Benjamin H. Har
rison, of Indiana, has decorated eighteen
dinner plates in a novel manner, which
was wholly her own idea. On each she
has painted a bird of a different species,
and on the border of the plate a verse in
old English text of poetry written by
one of the best authors about that par
ticular kind of bird. This not only has
the merit of originality, and so excites
the interest and admiration of those who
see the plates, but has the further ad
vantage, as every verse is one which has
been little quoted, of suggesting topics of
conversation at a dinner party when the
plates are used, which is always an ines
timable boon on such occasions. Mrs.
Harrison said she was surprised to find
how much good poetry had been written
about birds which alluded to or de
scribed so many different species. She
says she found verses enough to serve
for another dozen plates entirely differ
ent from those she has finished.
Asparagus.
J. B. Moore, of Massachusetts, says
asparagus is a leading market crop at
Concord, where half the amount in the
State is grown. He first plows very deep,
or twelve or eighhteen inches, manures
very heavily, and plants in furrows eight
inches deep, gradually filling up as the
plants grow. The rows are four feet
apart, the plants twenty inches in the
rows. Twice this distance in the rows,
with enough manure, would ultimately
give finer asparagus and more of it. He
justly remarks, however, that the thick
er planting brings a full crop sooner. A
bed is in perfection from eight to twelve
years. Salt, Mr. Moore says, is of no use
whatever the practice has only been
handed down from one - to another for
more than a hundred vears.
Puck's Editors.
H. C. Bunner, the editor of Puck, is a
clerical-looking young man under 30
years of age. He wears side whiskers
and double glasses. He contributed to
the Century and was once a reporter on a
New York daily. B. B. Valentine is the
associated editor. He is an Englishman
and about 40 years of age. The "Fitz
noodle" papers'are his work, and one ' of
his joyful duties is to read through the
poetical effusions sent to the office. The
third man is R. K. Munkittrick, profess
ional poet, who is perhaps the best
known man on the Puck staff. He and
Bunner turn out an enormous amount of
verse between them; Valentine never
wrote a line of poetry in his life. Mun
kittrick is only half through his second
score of years, and recently married a
lady with a handsome fortune.
It is reported
that twenty people
have been poisoned in
Ciudad, Victoria,
isiexico, D3 eaung lood prepared in a
copper kettle.
The salary of the mayor of New
York is $10,000. It was formerly $12,000,
but was reduced by legislative enactment.
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