The Manitowoc tribune. [volume], November 12, 1868, Image 5

About The Manitowoc tribune. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1866-1878

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UNDER THE FLAIL.
ET JOHN W. EDDY.
The old barn stands 'mong the strutting stacks.
As full as the harvest could make her.
And laughs through a hundred straining cracks.
At the wealth of many an acre
The reapers song with its tuneful rhyme
No longer keeps time with the sickle,
But now she laughs in a merrier chime—
The flails are beginning to tickle !
The seasons wax and the seasons wane.
And the harvest-time never shall fail,
Bnt the golden good of the ripened grain
Is gathered from under the nail.
!My full-grown heart with its wealth of song
Once stood 'mong Its gathering pleasures.
Like a miser, selfishly all day long
Recounting the worth of its treasures.
Till one was struck with a deadly blight
That came from the never-seen sea ;
The treasure was lost—but high in the night
Anew star was lighted for me
Let, f ill the flail on the noened sheaf
Till it yield its golden t icompense :
Beneath the heaviest strokes of grief
Are the brightest grains of Providence.
• Home Journal.
MR. WHITING’S MISTAKE.
A woman, in calico dress, with a towel
pinned over her hair, stood shaking and
beating up a pillow, upon the upper bal
cony of a square gtone house ; and a man
stood brushing the dust and specks from
his coat, upon the balcony below. The
woman was Bridget Gedakes, and the
man was Paul Whiting.
Now it happened that just beyond the
church, down a side street, was a little, i
low wing growing upon the body of a
painted wooden house; and here lived
Miss Alma Disbrow, a wealthy maiden
with frost-bitten curls, who always wore
a rustling black silk gown, a heavy gold
chain, and an eye-glass.
Miss Disbrow’s father had been unfortu
nate enough to be a pioneer in this part of
the lake country, so long ago as when the j
Governor’s wife rode to church in a tip- \
cart drawn by oxen, and when the town
was lighted by glow-worms instead of t
gas.
But his daughter. Miss Alma, was for- |
lunate enough to live so lately as when
the most desirable street of a flourishing =
commercial city rax directly through the
heart of her father’s swamp lands. And '
still later when, in token of her being un
married, and an only daughter, she came ,
into possession, by her father’s will, of the
principal part of his rich inheritance.
Upon that, turning her back upon all ;
adventurers, and shutting her |
eyes against her brother’s longing j
boys and girls, she gave the best located j
lots of the whole for the building of a !
church and rectory ; and then throwing j
out this wing from the house of her I
youngest and least disliked brother, she
settled herself down in it to sit and look
all day at her bountiful gift.
But Miss Alma had eyes as sharp as a |
brass pin ; the better to see with, my dear:
so,-beside the high stone church, she per
ceived a great many things. And upon
this particular morning she sat in her
Parker-rocker, rustling and rocking, with
her eye-glass in one hand, and the morn
ing paper in the other. On the leather
cushion of an old arm-chair, by the sun
set window, sat her confidential, a black
dog, with a while face, named Benjamin.
This dog had a great deal more considera
tion, and many more privileges, than her
brother’s children; and it was into his
pointed ears Miss Disbrow, who had not
another weakness in the world (unless in
the matter of a front tooth or so,) had the
habit of dropping everythin? she thought,
or knew, or guessed. And the dog Benja
min, as the man Benjamin might have
done, always listened without interrup
tion, and never repeated a thing she said.
“ Benjamin,” cried out Miss Disbrow,
so suddenly, that the dog jumped upon his
feet, “as true as yon are born, Mrs. Baby
has only just this moment come to help
about clearing up after the church-social.
Well, now, I do say, if that is not real
mean! Just come! When there she is
boardiwj with nothing under the stars to
do, not even to made her own bed ; and
poor, little Mrs. Grelling, with her six
children, and all her housekeeping cares,
has been here at work fully half an hour.
I cannot stand such shirking, lazy ways, I
declare I can’t!”
Benjamin vawnedand stretched himself;
and Miss Disbow moved her chair nearer
the window, and looking out at the cloud
ed skv, the bro-wn-touched trees, and the
wet walk, she saw presently the figures
upon the two piazzas of the square stone
house at the corner.
By that time the ladies were through
with their work of clearing up at the
vestry, and had gone clattering home in
their high-heeled hoots ; the scrub-women
and the hoys had done all their running
out and in, and slopping about with pails
of water; and the old white-bearded sex
ton, in his round, steel-bowed glasses, that
made him look like a gray owl, had locked
the door and gone to his day’s work, saw
ing wood at one of the grand houses on
the avenue. So Miss Dishrow had plenty
of time to tnrn her observation and* her
eve-glass toward her neighbors’ balconies.
To tell the plain truth, between you and
me and Beniamin, Miss Dishrow had for
some time felt that the Whiting family
needed more looking after than they got
from the sun, moon and stars, and the city
watchman, and she had long been trying
to act the part of the good Samaritan, and
go with the oil and the wine, when she
should have discovered the nature of the
family wound. So. whenever one of the
Whitings came in sight, she put down her
paper and put up her glass.
“ Benjamin,” said she, presently, drop
ping her glass, and rocking till lier dress
rustled like an oak tree in a north wind —
“ Benjanfln, von cannot what has hap
pened now!”
Benjamin did not seem to be inclined to
try, the task being so hopeless, and Miss
IDisbrow went on. “That Bridget Gedakes
—she is a reckless thing—l’ve long seen
that, and wondered Mrs. Whiting kept her
so—she has been and left a pillow on the
balcony railing. Went off and left rt;!
Of course the wind took it, and so there it
lies, ruffling, embroidery and all, right
down In the putter, liable to lie stolen by
every passer-by. Now, Benjamin, would
you, or wouldn’t you, go over and tell
them ?”
Benjamin’s face, about one eye, was
black, and the rest of the face, being en
tirely white, this gave him a peculiarly
knowing expression when he cocked up
that eye, as he had a way of doing. And
now he turned this black eye upon Miss
Dishrow, "with quite the appearance of
winking it at her. Perhaps, indeed, he
did. Anyhow, there was evidently some
invisible freemasonry between them, for
Miss Dishrow instantly responded, just as
t hough he had spoken.
“ Well, then, I will, Benjamin. Why
are we put in this world together if not to
help each other?” said she, as with an air
of virtuous responsibility she threw a
little maize-colored rigolette over her
weather beaten curls, and a white break
fast shawl over her shoulders. Then put
ting on her gloves, with the dignity of a
circumnavigator, she started across the
street.
One might fancy she would pick up the
unfortunate pillow upon the way ; but no
—I hope she was above meddling with her
neighbor’s things. Certainly! She walked
impressively to the door and rang the bell,
which was instantly answered by Mr.
Whiting himself, with a carpet-bag in his
hand and his hat upon his head.
“Going away, are you?” said Miss Dis
hrow, diverted for the time from her orig
ini! errand, by an opportunity of inserting
the wedge of inquiry.
“ Ah! Miss Disbrow’ Yes, I am going
to Chicago on a little business trip. Won t
you come in V ”
“Thank you, Mr. Whiting, not this
morning. Does yonr wife "accompany
you ? ”
“No, she doesn’t. She is going to Cin
cinnati for a few days” replied Mr. Whit
ing, who was as guileless as a spring chick
en and nut much more of a mouthful for
the maneuvering black fox, who always
found a great deal more flavor in anything
she had unearthed, by skiiinU digging.
“ You had better come in,” continued he,
cordially, “ Mrs. Whiting is busy pack
ing, but she will be glad to see you.”
And the deluded man really believed so ;
for, although he had lived' in such close
relation with Mrs. Whiting for five years,
he was only a man, afte.' - all.
But Miss Disbrow was a woman, and so
she knew- a great deal better than Jto be
persuaded a person is glad to see callers
when packing. “ Oh, no, indeed Mr. 1
Whiting! Thank you; but I just ran
over, in a neighborly way, .to tell you of a
little accident I happened to observe from
my window. A pillow fell from the bal- 1
usirade where your chambermaid very
I carelessly left it; and is now lying upon
the sidewalk. I was fearful it might come
to grief before any of the family missed it.
Good morning.” And so speaking, Miss
Disbrow bowed and rustled away.
“ Benjamin,” said she, mysteriously,
when she reached her own rocking chair
again, “ I cannot see whv Mrs. Whiting
takes the time to go to Cincinnati when i
her husband is away. It would be my
choice not to leave the bouse alone with
that flighty Bridget Gedakes. Or then, t
why not Mrs. Whiting go to-dn.y, while
her husband is here to see her off! I can't
understand it.” I
And with this, Miss Disbrow fell into a
fit of musing, and mused so long and
silently that Benjamin fell asleep, and
dreamed he knew where there xvas a wood
chuck’s hole with the woodchuck in it.
Meantime Mr. Whiting kissed his wife
(probably,) took his valise, and went off,
happily unconscious of a cloud no bigger
than a man’s hand already coming up in
his domestic sky. He thought of no
shadow darker than the bank of heavy
dampness hanging over his head in the
heavens. And that very evening those
vaporous clouds, having sulked long
enough over the wretched condition of
the muddy streets, made up their mind,
and expressed it by coming down in an
emphatic fall of snow, that glided from
umbrellas and drifted against windows,
like a slipping-off of great white blankets.
By day dawn the streets, and roofs, and
steeples, were white as a miller’s cat, and
the air rang with the scraping of shovels,
and jangling of sleigh-bells.
“ Of course Mrs. Whiting won’t think
of starting after such a snow, with every
prospect of the roads being blocked. Of
course not, Benjamin,” said Miss Dis
brow, seating herself to the occupation of
looking upon the things of her neighbor
with all the eyes of her glasses. Watch
ing them so intently, that actually a pair
of pigeons flew into the belfry of the
church, and a pair of ragged boys peeped
into the vestry window without her know
ing it. But her watch was rewarded, for
at precisely a quarter past eleven, a close
carriage came up to Mrs. Whiting’s door.
“As sure as you are horn, Benjamin,
she is going!” exclaimed Miss Disbrow,
apparently as violently astonished as
though she had been looking all the morn
ing for a sight of this very carriage. ‘‘And
two trunks ! What can the woman want of
two trunks, just going down to Cincinnati
for a few days ?” she continued, appearing
to suspect the old trick of the Trojan horse.
“ Well, now, I can’t see why she takes so
much baggage. And as sure as you are
made, Benjamin, she has anew traveling
suit throughout, hat and all. A suit of
silver gray poplin, with a muff ind a col
lar of Astrachan wool, and an A.aska hat.
See look? as girlish as you please,” added
Mi’S Disbrow, bringing her opera glass,
which always lay conveniently near on a
leap iy, to bear upon the small figure of
her neighbor, who was turning hack at
the door for a last word to Bridget; seem
ing, as she stood there, to the untried eye,
as cheerful and innocent as a Burgundy
rose. But, alas! things are not what they
seem!
“ If that woman is ever dissected,! want
to see her heart, Benjamin. I believe she
has no more than yon could put on the
point of a needle. Ido so" resumed Miss
Uisbrow, putting down her glass as the
carriage slowly ploughed its way along the
snowy street, and taking up the book
mark she was embroidering tor the pulpit
Bible.
The sun shone, the pigeons whirred past
the windows, the school boys snow-balled,
the engine screamed, and the cars rumbled,
and grumbled and glided out from the de
pot, disappearing around the long curve,
out beyond the city limits, and so away
into the limitless somewhere of the wide
world. And with them went little Mrs.
Whiting, blilheasabluejay, and charming
as a June morning. But although she
looked so, what if, after all, she was not
simple-hearted as a daisy ?
“ Did you know Mrs. Whiting over here
had gone away. Aunt Alma ?" cried out
her niece Moraretta, bursting into the
room that afternoon in her usual abrupt
way.
“ Certainly, niece. Take care, child !
Don’t upset that pot of primroses.”
Miss Disbrow always enjoyed a call from
Moraretta, something as one would see a
calf taking his morning walk among one’s
verbenas.
“ Moraretta, a little more and you would
have thrown down the shade over my wax
flowers ! Did you want anything ?”
“ Why, no, Aunt Alma. I just come ir ,
that is all. But I was wondering who
.Mrs. Whiting went off with, and I thought
perhaps you knew. ’
“ Why, did yen see anybody with her ?
What do you mean ?” asked Miss Disbrow
suddenly, so interested that she forgot to
chide Moraretta for swinging a pair of
scissors by her ribbon, to the imminent
peri! of Benjamin’s eyes and of a pier
glass.
“ Yes, I saw somebody ; and so did Bella
Mosier. We were coming through the
depot, on our way from school, like we
always do, when we saw Mrs. Whiling.
I saw 7 her, and so, did Bella; and just as
we said, both together, ‘ There is Mrs.
Whiting,’ a gentleman came up and
kissed her very affectionately, and she
looked ell in a flutter, and so did he ; and
then they took the cars tor Cleveland.”
“ For Cleveland f Moraretta, are you
sure ? ” exclaimed Miss Disbrow, in vestal
ma’am, sure. That was what
I thought so queer, for her
IrfHks were marked Cincinnati; we stood
by them and saw the cards. You may
Bella if it wasn't so. There she is, going
by this minute. Bella! Bella! Come in !”
she cried, running to the window, tapping
on it and nodding and beckoning.
Miss Disbrow’s sense of outraged pro
■nuch shocked by the scau
ta’s story, that she permit
of decorum and insult to
her window 7 without a word,
ndow itself shook all over
rtification. But Bella came
raretta in girlish life and
hoydenism as one bramble-bush is like an
other. And then out of the mouth of two
witnesses Miss Disbrow was forced to be
lieve.
“Did you ever see the man before?
How did he look, and howdid he appear?”
she asked.
“ Oh, ho wa^ perfectly splendid, and he
w r i dressed elegantly!” cried the enthusi
astic scbooi-eirK “ But I never saw him
before ; neither did Retta. I ion’t think
Ibe lives here; he came from the Cincin
; mti ears. You saw him, didn’t you
Retta ?” said Bella Mazier.
“Yes, of course t did. And then he
looked around as though hq expected to
see somebody, till ho saw Mrs. Whiting
and she wap standing like the was waiting
wasn’t she Bella ?” 61
Well, there, Benjamin, what do you
™ake of that ?” said Miss Disbrow) after
the girls had chattered themselves out of
the roots* and out of the house. “ Don’t
you recollect I suspected all was not right
when I saw those two immense trunks
and little Mrs. Whiting herself dressed up
like a doll? I do wish I knew what to
think.”
All day long Miss Disbrow sat pulling
this and that together, until the opposite
i house grew fairly hideous under its shadow
of evil; and all night long she lay awake
upon her old-fashioned mahogany bed
stead, still putting this and that together.
I By day dawn the next morning, Miss
I Disbrow was looking out to see if it had
fared with the gray mansion over night as
i with the cities of the plain. But no ; sen-
I tence against an evil work is not executed
speedily ; and there it stood, massive and
square, against the reddening eastern sky.
And at that very moment she saw Mr.
\\ biting, with the general look of un
kempt haggardness belonging to a traveler
just out of a sleeping car, going through
the stately but dishonored doorway.
“ Benjamin !” cried Miss Disbrow, nerv
ously— “he has come home ! Perhaps she
has left him a note! Perhaps—oh! per
haps, he is reading it now! Oh, Beniamin!
Ought I to go over and tell him what we
know? Ought I?”
Benjamin did not reply, but he looked
thoughtful, which was more satisfactory
to the inquirer: and Miss Disbrow sat
down and rocked, with her face toward the
church, as the Jews in exile turned their
faces toward Jerusalem.
“ Benjamin,” said she, presently, “I will
go. It is my duty. The next train to
Cleveland leaves at 7:40; and there is not :
a moment to lose.”
So she went.
Mr. Whiting answered her ring this
morning as before, and though he looked
a little surprised at the untimely call, he
seemed no wise agitated or under a cloud.
“ Mrs. Whiting has not returned,” began
the spinster.
“No, ma’am. Ido not expect her be
fore the last of next week. Is there any
thing I can do for you, in her absence,
Miss Disbrow ?” returned the wronged
husband,
“Nothing. Mr. Whiting—nothing for
me. Where did I understand you to say
Mrs. Whiting has gone? Could it be
Cleveland ?"
“No. Cincinnati. She has gone to her
sister’s, Mrs. Gaegon; perhaps you know
her ?” replied the unconscious man, won
dering to the tips of his boots, Miss Dis
brow was there. “ Another pillow gone
over, maybe, or, perhaps she has seen
Bridget, giving cold pieces to a beggar at
the back gate,” mused he, listening with a
hungry ear for the breakfast bell.
But his wonder and musing were cut
painfulty short.
“ Mr. Whiting,” said Miss Disbrow, sol
emnly, “ I am afraid I have bad news for
you. Your wife did not go to Cincinnati,
as you suppose; she went to Cleveland.
And she did not go alone.”
Mr. Whiting stared helplessly at the
speaker, unable on the instant to take in
such dreadful tidings.
“What do you mean?” he asked stu
pidly, al last.
“ What I say is true, Mr. Whiting. I
have it from parties who saw her go. She
has gone to Cleveland, and she did not go
alone,” repeated Miss Disbrow, nodding
so wisely, she might have been an own
aunt of Solomon’s.
Mr. Whiting was as innocent as a cup of
new milk, but he had as many nerves as a
woman ; and if he had not ir an born a
man he would certainly have >een a blue
bottle fly, humping about restless and dis
tracted. Therefore, as soon as he had
fairly comprehended Miss Disbrow’s dis
graceful story, he was nearly wild.
“ He took it harder than I could wish,
Benjamin. Harder than I could wish.
Poor man 1 1 don’t know i chen I have
pitied anybody so before, and truly, Ben- j
jamin, I am afraid I shall have no appetite
for my breakfast; and you know it is fish
balls to-day, and I am more partial to fish
balls than anything. It is too bad ! so it
is.”
And Miss Disbrow sighed, partly for her
own loss, and partly for the loss of her I
neighbor.
“ Yes, Benjamin ! There he goes. Yes
—going to find her; and when he finds 1
her —what then ? What then, I ask you, i
Benjamin ?”
Benjamin did not know—he had no I
means of knowing—so he did not tell.
And after smelling at a bottle of cam- 1
phor, Miss Disbrow went on ; “It does !
seem to me, and always has, that if Mr. [
Whiting had not been a born idiot, he
might have known better than to marry ;
such a pretty bunch of lace and feathers. 1
But a man is always a fool about a woman ,
until he marries her.”
While Miss Disbrow, full of wisdom and '
of sympathy, talked thus behind her ;
glasses and her window-curtains, Mr.
Whiting went down the avenue to the i
depot, half frantic with haste and horrible 1
fancies, blaming himself miserably, as he
went on his miserable way, for his blind
ness and carelessness, while a thousand
things, overlooked and forgotten before,
straightened and explained themselves in
the light of this shameful flight.
Once in the car, the train at its swiftest,
seemed to crawl like a sick catterpiljg.r ;
and oh, how tediously often and long they
stopped at every wood-pile and hamlet f
shanties! Suddenly they stopped, not
much of anywhere, and never started
again.
“ What is up now ?” cried out’ Mr.
Whiting, impatiently.
“Nothing is up. A bridge is down,” an
swered somebody, in such a provokingly
cool tone, Mr. Whiting felt like asking
him to fight. “We have to go around
three miles in a sleigh, and take the train
on the other side. Fine chance for a
sleigh-ride,” added the contented soul,
whose wife sat in the seat beside him, cro
cheting a very minute pink sacque.
' are enough! First an hour of igno
minious waiting, then the crowded, tedious
transportation of five hundred men and
women, and each of their five hundred
trunks, over and back. A cycle of time
to a man with a swarm of bees in his
heart.
But “ all things come round to him who
waits,” and at last they steamed off beyond
the broken bridge, slower, though, than
ever; for the road was washed, and the
train was heavy. Yet at last that ride
ended also, although it was away through
the night, and finally daybreak, and even
h'-oad morning before the belated train
i cached Cleveland.
It was too early for the street and
icing off-time, there were no coache* in
waiting; so Mr. Whiling started at once
to walk to the house of his wife’s father.
The day had broken rough and windy,
as i*. always does in the beautiful Forest
City; and the clouded sky frowned
upon the dtiiserable husband as well
as the smoky-stained shops and sloppy
sidewalks. Even Commodore Perry,
upon his pedestal in the park, seemed
to look stonier than ever, as he
gazed off upon the icy lake, with a
hard sort of pity that forbore to look down
upon the human wretchedness he had
himself done with years and years ago.
Mr. Whiting hurried on, hardly com
prehending his errand, or what he feared,
until he came to the house of his father
in-law —a pretty gothic cott n ge ; set far
{ back on a lawn, behind linden trees The
i house was shut up and silent; but Mrs.
V, biting was always a lark at rising, and
j as her husband involuntarily looked up at
i the window of the room they had so"often
he saw her just looping back
| the curtain, as cheerful and bright as a
| buttercup. And before he was half way
I up the walk she was through the doorway
j and down to meet him, smiling like a
j morning-glory.
“ I didn’t expect you before to-morrow,”
she cried, in girlish joy. li I thought you
wouldn’t get my letter in time. Nobody
is up but me ; Ist’t that splendid ? Nobody
in the whole house i "We will go down to
breakfast before they know,yoa are here.
Why, how delightful! I could just hug
that old mail-carrier for taking around my
letter in time ? But wasn’t it magnificent
that Theodore happened to see me ? He
said it was all luck and chance he did not
go_out the other side of the depot. And
we were just in time to catch the Cleve
land train.”
“ Theodore ” was Mrs. Whiting’s eldest
brother, just on his way home from India.
And directly at the mention of his name,
a stone of as many as twenty tons burden
fell from Mr. Whiting’s heart, which, in
consequence, than sponge
bread.
“So you thought you would come right
home with Theodore, instead of going to
Cincinnati to see Sarah Gageon,” said he.
“Why, yes; Sarah is here, you know.
Didn’t I write you that? All of us, broth
ers and sisters, are together, now you have
come,” answered Mrs. Whiting, growing
sweeter at every word she spoke, iu the
eyes of the happy husband.
Mr. Whiting never told his wife his com
ical and tragical mistake, and she never
suspected the embroidered velvet cloak
and ermine furs he bought for her that
very day were in sober reality, thank-offer
ings.
Women’s Homes.
Harper’s Bazar takes a very sensible
view of what might properly be called the
“ home question.” In substance, it argues
that while many a sermon is preached
nowa-days upon the duty of the wife to
make home attractive to her husband, it
is none the less the duty of the husband to
make home pleasant for the wife. Here
is where the woman’s life is chiefly spent,
and her convenience and pleasure should
be consulted. Many men will freely
spend large sums of money on their stores
and offices for their own personal comfort
or gratification, but grudge every dime at
their dwelling houses. They come to look
upon their homes as mere lodging places,
and so loug as they can find a comfortable
bed and good food they are satisfied, for
getting that the wife and the children ate
to pass the whole day at the house. : ;
The Bazar goes on to say mat men are
apt to think that the general ordering of
the house naturally belongs to them, but
this is wrong ; the home is the wife’s do
mam ; she should plan, arrange and con
trol, for does she not know better than he
what will best promote her convenience
in all the details of housekeeping ? “It
would be just as absurd for her to under
take to be the architect of his warehouse,
and to place the desks, drawers and pigeon
holes of his counting room, as for him to
divine from his omniscience the most con
venient spot for her cupboards.” Sensible
sentence this and a pity that every hus
band could not read it. Again, the home
stead should belong to the wife in her own
right; she would then feel confidence in
her position, have an object in all her
labors, be stimulated to make home beauti
ful, be sure of a shelter for herself (and
husband) if adversity should come. Wo
men know these simple truths, but hesi
tate to tell them, and therefore we expect
a thankful recognition of our gallantry in
calling attention to these few points.
To Rent to Parties Without Children.
A week before the commencement of
the quarter in Paris a gentleman came to
the proprietor of a house and commenced
the following conversation:
“ One of my friends who is unable to
come himself on account of illness has
sent me to rent for him the second floor of
your house.”
“ Your friend is not married ? He has
no children V”
“ No, sir.”
“ I will accept him only on these condi
tions My house is very quiet; and to
make sure, you will be good enough to
mention that the tenant is a bachelor, in
the contract.”
The sick man’s agent agreed to these
terms, and, by virtue of his power of at
torney, signed a lease of the rooms for
three years.
When the day for taking possession of
the premises came, four children, the old
est of whom was not more than ten, ar
rived with the furniture. On learning
this the proprietor rushed out in a rage,
i and, addressing the officious friend, who
i was superintending the transportation of
the furniture, reminded him of the special
; agreement in the lease.
“ My dear sir,” he answered, “ you have
i rented your apartments to my oldest son,
' that young lad who is sucking barley
j sugar at the foot of the stairway. I as-
I sure you that he is not married nor the
father of a family. You have nothing to
fear from his children for a long time to
come : —only he extends to his father and
i brothers that hospitality which your sig
j nature authorizes him to exercise the next
I turee years.”
Brevities ami Levities.
—There is a story about an English
geologist now “going the rounds ” which wonid
have delighted Bncelund or llugh Miller. The
gentleman had spent some hours one hot day .ast
summer <*ollectlng specimens. Al the close oi his
investigation he returned home, dispatch'ng a
well-filled hag by a donkey driver. This genius,
thinking that it was a pity to overload his animal,
and thinking that stones could be picked up in any
section of the parish, emptied the sack, and at .he
railway station refilled it with paving stones and
semi-pulverized bricks. The moral for geologists
Is evident—“ Put not your trust in donkey driv
ers.”
—Mr.Brown called in ata neighbor's,and
was urged to take supper, which he did, the old
lady all the while saying: “l"mafraid, Mr Brown,
you will not make a supper ; you have eaten
nothing. Do eat some more.” After he had step
ped out, he heard the old lady say toher husband:
“Why, I do declare, I should think Mr. Brown
had not eaten anything for a month.”
—A German wrote an obituary on the
death of his wife, of which the following is a copy ;
“If mine wife had lived until next Friday, she
1 would have been dead snust two weeks. Nothing
jis possible with the Almighty. As de tree tails
so must It stand.
—A woman at one of the New York
city dispensaries applied for medical aid, stat.ng
her disease to be flirtation of the heart. “Notah
uncommon ailment with your sex, ma'am,” said
the doctor, with a twinkle of the eye.
—“ I feel it my duty to dilate,” said a
tedious orator. “Better die late than never.”
| shouted a veice in the crowd.
—Somebody has recently invented a
“carriage-bed" for invalids. We Eave slept ;u a
: buggy bed. It was nearly a perpetual-motion ma-
I chine.
—Young todies are very economical.
, They resort to tight lacing in order to avoid
i waste-full-ness.
—Why is a selfish friend like the letter
; P ? Because though he Is first in pity, he is the
last in help.
—Why is the letter G like anew bon
net ? It tores pretty looking lasses to pretty
looking glasses.
—“A backward spring” is, produced by
presenting a red hot poker to a man's nose.
—The man who could not keep hia feet
; sold his boots. *
—A revenue cutter is the man who does
! not pay his income tax.
—Would you be strong, conqutr yoar
j self.
—A spinuer’s motto—“ Life js red. ”
! - Handy thing—a glove ’
HOME, FARM AND GARDES.
I —English bee-culturists stupefy the In
sects with chloroform, and then safely re
move the comb.
—We ?ee it stated that coal or gas tar
applied about a corh-crib will keep the
| grain from devastation by rats.
—lf you would not have your horse
acquire the habit of hanging in the halter,
do not strike at him in front when young.
; —The best food for fattening fowls is
said to be ground oats mixed to a dough
with water or milk. The latter is the
best.
—Professor Spooner objects to sawing
off or shortening the horns of cattle. It
gives pain to the animal and impairs its
strength.
—An item of importance in plowing is
to see, before beginning, if there is any
defect in the surface of the ground that
i can be modified or corrected.
—The Norfolk Chronicle condemns the
use of check reins on horses. They spoil
their mouths, impair their tempers, and
render them generally uneasy.
—Stanchions with open mangers for cat
tle are to, because the strong steal
from the weak. A partition board three
feet high would obviate the difficulty.
—A Kentuckian -writes to the North
western Farmer that of a lot of telegraph
poles put up in Kentucky, the chestnut
rotted first, the cedar gave way next, the
locust stood years longer, and were
still nearly sound.
—Cisterns should he cleaned and put in
order to be filled for winter. It is well
also to look after the arrangements for
supplying the farm stock with water dur
ing the winter. If there -is not a supply
in the barn yard, perhaps a few dollars ex
pended rightly will bring down an unfail
ing stream from a spring.
—The following is said to make an ex
cellent liniment: Take the whites of two
eggs, beaten to a froth, a wineglass of vin
egar, a wineglass of spirits of turpentine,
and a wineglass of alcohol, beating it all
the time. This liniment must be put to
gether in the order mentioned above, or it
will not be thoroughly incorporated.
Very superior in all cases of sprains,
bruises, &c., on man and beast.
—To make a cake without eggs, take
two cups of sugar, dissolved in three cups
of buttermilk; sift one quart of flour, and
work into it two large table-spoonfuls of
butter, (or good sweet lard with a little
salt); one teaspoonfnl of finely pulverized
soda. Stir these to a smooth batter;
flavor -with extract of lemon or vanilla,
and bake in a quick oven. This will keep
three days, end is better the second day
than the first, if it is put in a stone jar and
.Covered close as soon as cold.
—A correspondent of the Country Gen
tleman, at Canandaigua, N. Y., dug 188
potatoes from twelve feet in a row planted
with large potatoes, and from an equal
space planted with small potatoes of the
same variety, the Early Goodrich, he dug
187 potatoes ; each lot weighed 25 pounds.
The rest of his potatoes were planted with
pieces cut from good sized potatoes. Sev
eral trials with these gave from 21 to 27
pounds from twelve feet in the rows.
—Our corn-growing readers will do well
to select now the seed to be used next
spring. The best time to do this is when
the corn is ripening, but it may be done
with good advantage when cutting or
husking the crop. In either case the best
ears in size and shape, in smallness of cob,
and firmness, and solidity and depth of
kernel, can be better selected than from
the crib next spring, at planting time.
The influence of judicious selection is often
underestimated.— Exchange.
—Eggs and Potatoes—Remove the skins
from some boiled Irish potatoes, and when
perfectly cold cut them up in small pieces,
about the size of a grain of corn, and sea
son with salt and pepper. To a quart of
potatoes thus prepared, take the yolks of
six eggs and the whites of three and beat
them well together : have some butter in
a frying pan, and when it is melted put in
the potatoes; when they are quite hot,
stir in the eggs, and continue stirring so
as to mix them well with the potatoes,
and until the eggs are set; then pepper
and send them table in a hot dish.
—Cellars are too often a neglected por
tion of the dwelling. At this lime of the
year they should be thoroughly cleansed
and put in order for the reception of win
ter stores. The walls ought to be white
washed, and the ceiling also; it renders
them not only sweet but lighter. Then
farmers all understand what they neglect
to practice, viz., that vegetables/ as pota
toes, beets, turnips, Ac., retain their flavor
better if packed in earth and kept from
the light. For this purpose bins should be
constructed around the cellar next to Jhe
walls. Then there should be a closet for
canned fruits, Ac., to keep them clean, dry
and dark; and hanging shelves to hold
various articles and keep them from mice,
for these vermin will occasionally infest
the best cellars. Go down into your cel
lar, honest farmer, and look around, think
for what it is intended, how much it con
tributes to the comfort of your family,
and how much their health may depend
on its condition, and you will resolve that
it is as worthy of care and attention as
, the parlor. —Rural New Yorker.
The Housekeeper.
Good Doughnuts. —Three eggs, one cup
sugar, one cup cream, one teaspoonful
soda. Salt and nutmeg.
To Dye Black. —Rusty nails, or any rusty
iron, boiled in vinegar, with a small bit ol
copperas, makes a good black.
Pop-overs. —One egg, a piece of butter
the size of a walnut, a little salt, one cup
of flour. Bake in small tins.
Eat with sauce.
Suet Pudding. —One teacup suet, one of
molasses, one of milk, one of raisins, three
of flour, two eggs, one teaspoonful of soda.
Salt and spice to taste. Boil three hours.
Watery Potatoes. —Put into the pot a
piece of lime as large as a hen’s egg; and
how watery soever the potatoes may have
been, when the water is poured oft’ the
potatoes will be perfectly dry and mealy.
Pork Pudding. —One coffee cup full of
finely chopped salt pork, 2 cups of water ,
add enough flour to mold it, roll thin, cut
it so as to make two rolls, steam labours,
eat with sauce same as for apple dump
lings. If you wish, spread with fruit be
fore rolling up.
Apple Marmalade. —Take any kind of
sour apples, pare and core them, cut them
in small pieces, and to every pound of ap
ples put three-quarters of a pound of sugar.
Put them in a preserving pan, and boil
them over a slow fire until they are re
duced to a fine pulp. Then put them in
jelly jars and keep them in a cool place.
Oyster Patties its Batter. —Make a batter
with the yolk of one egg (or more, accord
ing to the quantities of oysters you intend
to prepare), a little nutmeg, some beaten
mace, a little flour, and a little salt; dip in
the oysters, and fry them in lard to a nice
light brown. If prefemjdafclittle parsley
may be shred very with the
batter. The he made
thicker, and
a patty, or put mold,
oyster peing dropjlHHßißni covered
over, and the whole baßetr as a pudding
would be.
Tomato Ketchup. —One peck of toma
toes, one great spoonful of cloves, allspice,
cinnamon and nutmeg each, half a large
spoonful of black pepper, half a teaspoon
ful of cayenne, and a pint and a half cf
vinegar. Stew the tomatoes and strain
them.
Tapioca Pudding. —Put one teacup of
tapioca to one quart of water, one hour,
in a shallow dish. Then sweeten to taste
and flavor with lemon. Have ready six
large sour apples, pared and quartered,
to be placed over the top of the
the round sides up; sprinkle a little salt
over them ; bake until the apples are done.
Eat with cream when cold.
Quinces Preserved Whole. —Pare and put
them into a sance-pan, with the parings at
the top; then fill it with hard water:
cover it close; set it over a gentle fire till
they turn reddish; let them stand till cold
Put them into a clear, thick syrup; boil
them for a few minutes; set them on one
side till quite cold; boil them again in the
same manner; the next day boil them
until they look clear. If the syrup is not
thick enough, boil it more; when cold, put
brandied paper oyer them. The quinces
may be halved or quartered.
Preserved Pears for tJee Table —Peel three
pounds of pears and place them in a stew
pan ; cover them with water and let them
stew for two hours. Take them out and
put them in a brown jar with three quar
ters of a pound of loaf sugar and two
tablespooufuls of the water they were
stew’ed in to each pound. Add a little
camPed lemon, cut in small pieces, or a
few cloves, if preferred. Place the cover
on the jar and stew them in an oven for
two hours. Golden syrup sufficient to
cover them may be substituted for sugar
and w r ater.
Apple Roll, or Apple PucUling. —'Make a
paste with one-fourth of a pound of butter
to one of flour mixed with water, not
very stiff. Peel, and slice rather thick,
tart apples, roll the paste very thin, or as
thin as the bottom crust of a pie, spread
the apples on the crust so as to cover it,
dredge on a little flour and roll it as tight
ly as possible. Cut the ends even and put
it in the steamer, or wrap it in a thick
cloth and boil it. It will take one hour
steady cooking. Serve with butter and
sugar. Cut it in thin slices from the end
when serving.
An Economical Disk. —Steam or boil
some mealy potatoes; mash them together
with some butter or cream, season them,
and place a layer at the bottom of the pie
dish ; upon this place a layer of finely
chopped cold meat or fish of any kind,
well seasoned ; then add another layer of
potatoes, and continue alternating these
with more chopped meat until the dish be
filled. Smooth down the top, strew bread
crumbs upon it, and bake until it is well
browned. Avery small quantity of meat
serves in this dish. A sprinkling of
chopped pickles may be added if handy,
and when fish is employed, it ea*s belter if
first beaten up with raw egg.
Head Letters.
Of all the official work done in Wash
ington, none is regarded with more inter
est by the transient visitor than the Dead
Letter Office. Here sit some fifteen or
twenty gentlemen—for it is a fact disgrace
ful to humanity that females cannot be
employed, so many obscene letters poison
the mails—continually engaged in open
ing the four or five millions of letters that
annually find their way there. More than
15.000 letters are daily emptied on their
desks, asking to be opened. When the
It.ier is found to have valuable contents,
those contents are endorsed upon it. and
the letter returned to the envelope. A re
cord is made of all such letters, and they
are at once returned to their writers, with- |
out return postage. So perfect are the
arrangements that it is hardly possible
that a valuable dead letter which has once
reached the office, should fail of revisiting
the w r riter, if it is in the power of the De
partment to discover him. During the
past year 35,000 letters, inclosing $ 143,234,
were received at this office, and nearly
29.000 of them, containing $130,620, were
restored to their owners. But besides
these money letters, there were 21,000
dead letters, containing bills of exchange
and other valuable matter, appraised at
over $5,000,000; over 49,000 containing
photographs, jewelry, etc.; and 97,000 con
taining stamps and articles of small value;
nearly all of them were returned to the
original writers, and the reason why any
of these letters fail of being returned is not
the fault ot the Department, but of the
writer, who either send an unsigned let
ter, or who will subscribe herself “ your
loving Susie,” or “your affectionate
Adieand as Government knows no first
names, all such letters are consigned to
the chopping box and then to the paper
mill to reappear as white paper.
Since writing thus far,l have once more
visited the Dead Letter Office, a visit that
always gives pleasure and gratifies curi
osity. Here I saw clerks taking about SSOO
a day out of the letters so profusely scat
tered over their desks, and among the va
rious articles recently taken out of their
envelopes I noticed the following: Slip
pers, valentines, a duck’s head, thermome
ters, false teeth, pistols, mittens, fern
leaves, false hair, laces, paper collars,
epaulets, horns, pipes, watch-cases, hoops,
albums, dolls (one of them two feet high;
it must have required a monster envel
ope !), butterflies, mats, medicines, silver
goblets of ful: size, ear-rings, butter-knives,
spoons, gold and silver watches (very little
gold or silver about them, however), shells,
purses, soap, sugar, tea, coflee, bows and
arrows, books, pictures, a box of cigars, a
bottle of Jamaica ginger, & squirrel’s tail,
prisms, combs, boxes, etc. —Hours at
Home.
The Tear and Its Home.
Chamber*? Journal recently anlyzgd the
tear, and talked of its home, in the follow
ing rather practical than poetical manner ;
The principal element of a tear is water;
the water, upon dissolution, contains a
few hundredth parts of the substance
called mucus, and a" small portion of sail,
of soda, of phosphate of lime, and phos
phate of soda. It is the salt and the soda
that give to tears that peculiar savor
which earned for tears the epithet ot
“sa't”atlhe hand of Greek poets, and
that of * ! bitter” at that of ours ; “ salt” is,
however, the more correct term of the two.
When a tear dries, the water evaporates,
and leaves behind it a deposit of the saline
ingredients; these amalgamate, and, as
sem through the microscope, array them
se’.ves in long crossed lines, which look
I'.ke diminutive fish bones.
Tears ars secreted by a pi and called the
“ lachrymal gland,” which is situated
above the eyeball, and underneath toe
upper eyelid on the side nearest the tem
ple. Six or seven exceedingly fine chan
nels flow from it along under the surface
of the eyelid, discharging their contents a
little above the delicate cartilage which
supports the lid. It is these channels or
canals that carry the tears into the eyes.
But tears do not flow only at oertain mo
ments and under certain circumstances, as
might be supposed; their flow is con
tinuous ; all day and all night—although
less abundantly during sleep—they trickle
softly from their tender sluices, and spread
glistening over the surface of the pupil and
eyeball, giving them that, bright, enamel,
and limpid look which is one of the
characteristic signs of health.
It is the ceaseless movement and con
traction of the eyelid that effect the regu
lar spreading of the tears ; and the flow of
these has need to be constantly renewed
in the way just mentioned, because tears
not only evaporate after a few seconds,
but also are carried away through two
little drains, called “lachrymal points,”
and situated in the corner of the eye
near the nose.
—lt is said that all the foreign ministers
atWashington—including the English and
Turkish—are Catholics. ~
—The Baptists number fiC.OOO in Mis
souri • '•
The Great Medical Mistake
01 former days was an utter neglect of sanitary
precautions. Moefflcient means were adopted for
the prevention of sickness. Sewerage was un
known in cities ; drainage was rarely attempted
in the country. Heaps of offal were left to rot In
the public streets, and domestic cleanliness, the
great antidote to febrile diseases, was sadly neg
lected. It is not so now. Wise laws, philanthropic
institutions, and a vigilant sanitary police, have,
to a great extent, remedied the evil. Xor is this
all. Preventive medication has helped mate
rially to lessen the rates of mortality. It is not
too much to say that tens of thousands escape
sickness in unhealthy seasons in' consequence of
having invigorated their systems in ad
vance by a course of IIOSTETTER'S STOMACH
BITTER. This pure and powerful vegetable
tonic and alterative comprises the •'xtracts and
essences of a variety of roots and herbs, renowned
for their strengthening, soothing, vitalizing and
purifying properties. These medicinal agents are
incorported with a spirit absolutely free from
the acrid poison which defiles, more or less, all
the liquors of commerce, and their effect is dif
fused through the whole frame hy this active, yet
harmless stimulant. The result is snch a condi
tion of the system as renders it all but impervious
to the exterior causes of disease, snch as damp,
fog, sudden alternations of temnerature. Ac.
Strength, and the perfect regularity of all the
functions of the body, are the best sa r e-gnards
against atmospheric poison and th ’ effects of un
wholesome water, and HOSTETTER'S BITTERS
are the best strengthening and regulating medi
cine at present known. For dyspepsia and bilious
ness they are asi-Ecipic absolute.
-
Tho Great Household Remedy.
In the whole history of medicine there is no
remedy so universally popular as MISHLER'S
HERB BITTERS. It is a mild, generous and effi
cacious preparation, containing no deleterious
ingredients; it is a never-failing purifier of the
blood—always stimulating it into healthy action;
and it removes or obviates all derangements which
are the first origin of disease in the physical
system. Thus, it is a far more reliable medicine
than any other. Those who have used it know it
cured them ; those who have not. know it cured
their friends and neighbors; and what it does
once it will do again, for it is adapted to all ages
and conditions, in all climates. It is a constant
safe-guard against disease, and a perfect regulator
of the digestive organs. Sold hy all druggists and
storekeepers^
—The executors of the Edwiff A. Sti
veus estate have employed Gen. McClel
lan, at an annual salary of SIO,OOO,
to superintend the completion of the
famous Stevens battery at Hoboken, and
which, when afloat, is to be tendered as a
gift to the State of New Jersey.
XTEI).-One good Agent, mle or female, la
' ’ every village and town m the United States, t
seU the.lni -re-art Po.-h* Potiretitan, a now Invention of
almost universal app! cation Rapd sae and large
profits. Retails for Will smu sample on receipt
of one applicant? for agencies. address wl'h
stamp. AMEUI AN POCKET POLICEMAN MANU
FACTURING t 0.. P. O. IU.X S IS. Chicago. 111.
V V. SCIENTIFIC SCHOOL & MILITARY AO4D
• emy, Peekskill, N. V. Refer to Faculty at West
Point. Clrenla-s maybe had of Z. S. StiiiLi, Supt.
This Is an entirely bow scientific preparation dlscov
ered hy Prof K AH, Chemist, United States Laboratory,
contains no Nitrate of Silver, Sulphur, or other delete
rious drugs.
IT NEVER FAILS
In any case fo bring back, by a few applications. White
or Gray hair to its original color, Fair Hrntcn or Black.
It prevents the hair failing out, and promotes a
new growth Having no sediment, it Is the best Dress
ing in the World. Every Druggist in the United States
sells it. Prepared by
ROBERT RITCHIE fc CO..
chemists. 19l Lake street. Chicago.
Samnle bottle s nt free on receipt of sl.
IN YEN TO ICS wanting patents, send stamp for circu
lar, to Dodge & Mt'NN. +s> 7th-st., Washington, D^c
A CENTS WANTED
IN EVERT COUNTY to introduce our New Star Shut
tle Sewing Machine. The only GOOD LOW-PRICED
LOCK STITCH MACHINE manufactured. For Circu
lars, Sample Sewing, etc . apply to
E. SMITH A GO., 113 LaSalle St., Chicago.
■ . IT ~ ~j ’ “VICTOR
r- TREAD-POWER
;.7>, "SSlsa
I ern and
b Crushers.
■ . r. -Cr.-i & ‘ . t. ■■ Send
w- for Circular.
BLYNYKR. FEARING & C 0.,.
IH-I Wasldngton street, Chicago.
BEYMYER, BAY & CO.,
Mansfield, Ohio.
BLYHYER, NORTON & CO.,
Cineiunatl. Ohio.
\S IM ST IP .* TS I Ask yonr Grocer ior Peiissinb e
ViiiSbrio 1 Ctdeb Vikhoae. Celebrated for Its
purity, strength and pajatableness. Warranted to pre
serve pickles. PREMIUM awarded at the U. 6.
Fair. 111. State Fair, and Chicago City Fair. Largest
works in U. 3. 339 and 341 State St.. Chicago.
Circular Saws.
Vto f4? , '
biSsta^
&/&&& >\
■:%., o„I%\
Circular Saws or one temper over tbe whole rial*
Malay, Mill, Cross-Cut and Gang. Equal to any made
in the world, tor *ale by all dealers, and the makers,
LIPPINCOTT & BASE WELL. IMttebnrgh. Pa.
Farms & Fruit Lands.
The Illinois Central Railroad Company have for sale
In tracts oi 40 acres and upwards, 71*0,000 acres of choice
farming and fruit lands, all lying adjacent to their road.
For grain-growing, stock-raising, and every purpose o*
profitable agriculture, these lands possess every req u
site of soli and cllmata.
TISE FKl'lT REGION
of Southern Illinois is noted f its wonderful fertility
In tbs production of apples, ars, peaches, and all
kinds or fruits. During the season ot 1867, the Special .
Fruit Express Train brought over 600,000 boxes of
peaches and SO.OOO bushels of strawberries to Chicago
alone, from thence furnishing the first fruits of the
season .o a!! the northern markets. 300,000 acres of
these fruit lands are now offered for sale on favorable
terms.
’Title In Fee from the Mtate.
All Station Agents are provided with plats, showing
the lands for sale in their vicinity.
nr Information given upon ail points at the office of
the Land Department, ,I,S Michigan avenue, Chicago,
or a descriptive pamphlet, with maps, showing the
exact locality of all ttie lands, sent to any person writ
ing for the same, in any language, to
JOHN B. CALHOUN ,
Lard Cokmissiokir, Chicago.
Ab Antidote ‘or Tobacco.
jricat remedy ir. variably remove* all dtsmy*
XoTnA<tvro % imd is entirely Vegetable and harjmess.
It is bNoftn excellent appetizer. It purifies thproood.
InvigoraiSßthe system, possesses great non riffling and
strengthen power, • nables the st*niagn to nigrst
the heartiest makes sleep refreshing, nd estab
lishes robust Cinoker.i and Cfneicersfor Fifty
Years Cured. Fifty Box, post free.
A T.eatise on tho InJlm Mi.s Fflivts cn Tobacco, wit.’i
lists of testimonials, etc., sent free.
Agents wanted. T. K. Abbott, Jetse-f
City, N. J y/V
A Clerotma.v s TamMoxiV One Box or A?nf*
dote cured my broker and
Kev. I. oem aker, Kenta's Station, Pa.
Health Strength Oa eleven
Ih.-i. of firsthand am restored to sound Mh by Tiding
the S. D. Bowles, Prospectjftll, Mo.
the IT. S. Treasury, Secretary'
Ple®e send a supply of Antidote. The one revived
yfis done iU work surely. G. T. ?*bOABI
F Copyrighted ]
Motes—From letters and reports received:
I- Your Axe Is bound to be Tee a!o.
11. It will cut fe per cent, better. .
HI. My brother lost one arm In the war, out wlm
your Axe, he can cut as well as any one else can.
IV. If I could not get another, twenty-five fs2s) del*
lars would not buy It.
V. It will ent hoop-poles better than any other Ai 11 .
VI. I would not be without it for anything.
For =Y? hff all responsible dealers, and the makers,
LIPPINCOTT A BARF WELL.
PrTTSBTTBGI* P* ~ .Sr,!♦ owner** of rho Parents
IHJK K i I D K!1 VI NKGA It. made fromcider
1 In ti ;i Lou-a, on t^i itic prii.cqden, M* l
or drugs. All inquiries, au arered. F. f. SAbfc. Fract
ai Vluogar Maker*Cjromvffß* Co*p. T.