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THE LITTLE GIRL OF LONG AGO. I am sitting hire to-day in a n rr’:.li>cent way, Living over al) the dear departed years Ere my locks had grown to gray, ere old Time had made me pay A toll of disappointment, grief and tears. I'm again a care-free boy. with an opulence of joy. And the conscious pride of being called the beau Of a dainty, winsome miss, who enthralled me with a kiss— A little girl who loved me long ago. I can see the gingham dress that I used to mutely bless, And I see the pink sunbonnet that she wore. While, as plain as then, ah. yes! I car. trace the tangled tresa That her snowy brow adorned and rip pled o'er. And her eyes they thrill me yet, blue as some meek violet That grew within the wood we used to know Ah, ’tls queer Time will not let me, in after years, forget A little girl who loved me long ago. Though I’ve children, tall and wee—one I'm trotting on my knee — And I love them all as dearly as my life; While I'm sure no one could be more a helpmate unto me Than their mother, whom I'm proud to call my wife— ‘'Dear, you’re sweet,” I say to her, "as. I'm sure, you ever were. Hut to picture you a girl enchants me so, That there's nothing can occur w hich will swerve my love from her— The little girl who loved me long ago." —Roy Farrell Greene, in Farm and Home. LOVE’S BLUNDERS By Kate M. Cleary. (Copyright, IM), the Author*' Syndicate > "When she was as gay as a linnet. And she was as fresh as a lark. Never a day but some minute We met betwixt dawning and dark!" Anon. IT was her latest fad, perhaps the most absurd—the wearing of glasses. She had enjoyed the brief pleasure of many voluntary and un necessary experiences. She was young, to be sure—preposterously young to wear a gown that came to her ankles. Iler youth may be urged in extenuation of her tendency to indulge in caprices. That is if per- ! functory explanation is desired, A girl having an erect young form mold ed in the prescient, curves of gracious i womanhood, eyes the blue of "ragged I robins,” and hair which, like that of Miles ilalpine's Jeannette, was "A silken and beautiful snare!" surely needs apology no more than the w ine of which Rosalind makes mention i in her delicious epilogue needs a bush. ‘ She begged the family dentist to Hud | a place in one of her perfect front i teeth where he might insert gold, be cause it "looked so pretty.” She had taken tip many new modes of dress — perhaps because she looked well in anything. She had gone through suc cessive stages of physical exertion so cially considered—croquet, tennis and I other mild dissipations. She wore her i hair a LaChionois, a la Pompadour and ! a la the almond-eyed damsel of the . land of the cherry blossom. When it ■ was just the thing to wear jaunty < glasses, having a slender gold chain : attached to the bodice, or looped back i to merge itself securely in one's hair, : the chill of exclusion possessed her. She couldn't wear eyeglasses. Iler sight was too ridiculously good. No one would believe her not even her credulous mother for whom her daugh ter’s every whim was a fresh delight. But it was too bail! The glasses were distinctly becoming. Mary McCrea ■ was 20 times better looking since she had found it advisable to affect them. ! They gave <ne a literary look- at all events a look of aloofness an air of distinction. Why wasn't she far-sight ed, or near-sighted, or afflicted with astigmatism, or in any way so fash ioned that a pair of rimless glasses ad justed over her straight little nose would add to her attraction? She broached her difficulty to her mother. 1 "We put off wearing glasses as long as we could in our young days,” re turned her confidant. “We thought doing so indicated age. My great grandmother could thread a needle with a hair from my head wfien she was 70." The accomplishment of this vener able ancestor failed to interest Loraine. Apart from her fancy for fads she was a very sensible girl. The remark of a famous wit and playwright to a cer tain lovely lady might have referred to her: “For such a well-dressed wom an you have really some sane ideas.” She did the work of stenographer tn a law office where acumen and critical judgment were required. Her pen-and ink and charcoal sketches found nd miredss and buyers. The management of the household, while nominally in control of her mother, lay in her own slender, capable hands. Ami even the neighbors admitted that the way she kept her three small brothers on an allowance remarkable chiefly for itu diminutive proportion, was extraor dinary. “ I haven't been to the matinee once since 1 started saving to semi Bobbie to the Athletic club," she assured her self. "And'as “Lor gloves I haven't any ! So I think- I'll buy a cheap pair." She meant glasses not gloves. She colored guiltily when the saleswoman offereu to test her eyes, "Haven’t time." she exphtimd, hasti ly . She picked up a pair at random. They were rimless, jaunty, with a slim, dangling, goldin chain. She was quite breathless when she found herself on the street with her treasure. When she board- d the open car for home, she adjusted the aids to vision she had pur chased. She lanc ed "Very onv was looking at her. As this impression grew her air of studied nonchalance be came more profound. She lumght an evening paper. She stan d hard at the printed page. But the letters merged iu one purple blur. Even facts took on grotesque and perplexing outlines. When she reached home her young brothers guyed her. Her mother only was as discreetly and sympathetically ■silent as the widowed mother of the one girl of her flock alone knows how to be. For awhile she was desperately uncomfortable. She did not wear the glasses in the office, but the dread possessed her that on her trip to and i from luncheon she ignored “the girls” who likewise found vent for their youthful energy in office work. Hi r reading and she read a good deal — was done surreptitiously. She, who had always walked so fearlessly, and with footfall so assured, began to hesi tate at a street crossing or the step of a curbstone. She dreaded lest she should make a descent of unpremedi tated abruptness. If she had known anything about Dundreary she would have sympathized with him in his dread lest he should sit down before he knew he sat down! When al night she took off the glasses she insisted she required, she was ashamed to confront her own sweet reflection in the glass. The con sciousness of hypocrisy weighed heavi ly upon her, but the moment of contri tion was belated in its arrival. It is possible its advent would ha vs been delayed much longer than it *B* I were It not for the fact that Ned Del | mere was back from his vacation, and ■ had not come to see her. She knew he had returned'. The fact wasduly chron- ! icled in. the little suburban paper. And | Allie Lyne had met him and said he was handsomer than ever—had a mus- I taehe- think of that! Loraine thought of that, and of « good many other things. Between the embarrassment of her glasses and tie defection of her devoted young lover she grew positively thin and haggard— as far as 19 may. Ned, who had been her shadow since they had graduated together from the high school! Ned, who had impoverished himself taking her to theatersand sending her flowers! Ned. who had written her loads of the loveliest rhymes and nonsense from the northern wilds whither his firm had allow ed him to go for rest and recuper ation. Was he deserting her? She had answered his every leter. To be sure her replies wen 'ittle airy, gossamer things, bright and shift ingas a cloud of butterflies. But she had written noth- I Ing that could offend —estrange him. ; She heard of him, now here—now : there. She began to think that he had ; never really cared for her. And ahe w as not one to wear the willow publicly for any man! She would accept Roy- Millard's invitations! She would go boating- with him in the park! She would.- Ding dong! Ding—dong! Dinsf — I ding—ding! She looked around wildly. Too late! ■ The cable car flinging frantically around the corner had crashed into her resentful meditations! Going back to the office after luncheon, wrapped In the childish abstraction of passionate pique, her sight dimmed by the fash ionable pince-nez, she had stepped tin- ■ heedingly before the modern jugger ' naut. A Babel of hoarse cries arose. She ■ shut her eyes—stepped backward. I "Al! right! In here! No—l’m not hurt—in here!” So much she heard in a voice that ; sounded somehow like her motor's— I just as comforting, as full of **weet and compassionate protection. Then the people, and the car. and the big po liceman, and the blanched visage of the motorman, and the sharp, inquisi tive countenance of the newsboy all merged in waves of blackness which whirled, eddied, swept into a cornu copia of illimitable perspective, and I w ent down with the roar of overwhelm- ■ ing waters! When reason asserted itself she was in the little emergency room back of the drug store. "What happened?" she asked, and struggled to sit up. “Keep still a little longer, dear heart!” whispered Ned Delmere. ' She drank the cordial he held to her I lips. She looked him straight in the eyes. " Tell me!" she entreated. He explained how the accident oc- ■ curved. "You were not hurt,” he con | eluded. “The man stopped his car just as it touched your gown. You fainted ’ front fright. That was all.” "All!" she exclaimed. "No! I should - not have become bewildered were it not for those dreadful glasses. I wore them | because I thought they were becom i ing. I really could not see with them!" ! "5 ou won't have to wear them again." he touched. "They were splin tered under 'he wheels where they i fell. But Loraine! Why would you I not recognize me when I got back from : the north? 1 stopped you on Dearborn i street. You held your head very high. , ’1 am not acquainted with you, sir,’ | you said, and passed on.” I “Did I say that to you?” I "Indeed you did." j "Weil!" She set up, clasping her I hand*. She drew a long breath. “Was !it the mustache -or the glasses—or both? You know I'd never"—her eyes : finished the sentence her lips had be gun. “W ouldn't you?" eagerly. He was on his knei s beside the druggist's lounge | "If you only knew how I've suffered "Don't I. though? You dear—" | “Beg pardon!” Thetiruggist retreat led hastily from the doorway. "The ! young lady you rescued, sir- ” "lias quite recovered, thank you. ; Will you call a cab? Take my arm dear, as if your sight—” ' Her radiant gaze laughed back hit I quizzical glance. "How can you like vnin girls?" she i whispered. "1 don't!" (promptly). "I only like , one! And I don't like her!" \ t ail Trl|>. , \skit vlliat is a convenient Tall trip for me to take? ■ Te’lit You n ight step on a banana I peel or try to balance ou a cake of soap : at the head of the stairs.--Baltimore , American. ■ POULTRY FATTENING. Expert* In Fnrope and Canada !fow V*e Machine* to Prepare Fowl* for City Market*. Poultry fattening experts in Europe and recently in Canada finish off the product with machines, as illustrated. The food consists of ground grain and milk mixed to a thin, pasty dough. Il is placed in a cylinder, from which the small pump cylinder operated by foot power forces it into the fowl’s / ,4ft. d \ FATTENING MACHINE. crop through a rubber tube. The crop is filled twice a day, and the process is so rapid that an expert will feed 200 or more fowls per hour. Operators as sert that the treatment is not at all painful to the birds. After feeding they are at once re placed in the small box coops, as il lustrated, one fowl to a coop. Grit is supplied. If a chicken seems ailing it is placed in a large run for a day with out food. The machine fattening proc ess occupies about three weeks. Considerable difference is noted in the readiness with which fowls put on ! flesh, even when of the same breed. I Large-boned specimens are preferred, j The method is used only for selected i birds. During the last week of the iffwlF- ; i ■ll FATTENING COOPS process it is customary to add a small quantity of pure fat to the meal and milk, to improve the delicacy of the flesh, allowing a tablespoonful of the fat per day for each lot of ten fowls, gradually increasing to double that quantity.—Farm and Home. Dysentery Among; the Bees, Dysentery affects bees only while in confinement, and is first observed by bees soiling their hives and emit ing a disagreeable odor. It may be caused by poor management and un favorable conditions, as well as by poor honey and long confinement dur ing severe weather. Should bees in the cellar show signs of being badly affected, carrying them out for a flight some fine day in winter, or warming the cellar up to 70 or 80 de grees, may help. This, of course, only applies when there are but few col onies in the cellar, and would do harm should there be colonies not af fected. In fact, it would be doubtful if anything but good settled weather in spring will affect a cure. Should any of our colonies show signs of dys entery towards spring, we simply let them alone, and when the proper time comes put them on the summer stands.—Rural World. When Henn Get Ton Fat. When a leghorn hen weighs 5V 2 pounds, or even five pounds, she is fat; and when a plymouth rock ben gets up to eight pounds, or a brahma reaches ten pounds, she is getting too fat. The best signs other than weigh ing them are their sluggish movement, their desire to wait for their food in stead of scratching, broad appearance behind, falling of the belly (near or rear), especially with old hens, a smooth, glossy appearance—often red on the hind portion of the body-—with perhaps loss of feathers. Body deep and a heavy appearance are also signs. One or all of these indications are to be observed; but the surest plan is to kill one supposed to be too fat, and she will show nearly the conditions of all the others in the flock if the food given has been heavily of grain.—. Farm and Fireside. Turkeys Thrive on Charcoal. According to one writer on poultry, pulverized charcoal is a fine thing for turkeys. He tells about two pens of turkeys of four birds each. One pen was fed on meal, boiled potatoes and oats. The other pen was fed the same way with the addition that they had a pint of finely pulverized charcoal mixed with their feed. They had also a plentiful supply of broken charcoal in their pen. The eight were killed on the same day, and the ones that b.ad the charcoal weighed IF, pounds more each than the ones that had uo charcoal. This is important if the birds were of equal weight when they were put into the pens or if the dif ferences of weight were taken in-o consideration at the time they were DRIED EGGS IN CANS. The Latent Way in Which the Amari* can Hen Im Dintrihutlnjt Her Nutritious Produet. The portable hen is the latest thing adopted by the commissary depart ment of the army. It lays fresh eggs every day, is guaranteed to produce eight dozen, just as they are required, and weighs only two pounds. Requir ing neither food nor water, it can be carried conveniently in a soldier’s knapsack, and all he has to do when he wants an omelet or a “scramble” is to unscrew the “critter” and ex tract from it with a spoon. Dried egg in cans is, to speak more exactly, the army food of the immedi ate future. It is put up by a number of manufacturers in various parts of the country, but chiefly in Missouri, under different trade names, such as “evaporated egg,” desiccated egg," and "crystallized egg,” From two to these firms the war department has purchased large quantities of the stuff, and thousands of cans of it hare been shipped to China and to the Philippines for the use of our troops. One pound is equivalent to four dozen fresh eggs, and it affords an admir able substitute, being to all intents and purposes simply hens’ eggs with the water extracted, and "keeping” for years, even in a tropical climate. Dried eggs have been utilized large ly in Alaska of late, in the Klondike, and at Cape Nome. They have been furnished to British soldiers in South Africa, in Yankee cans. In this and other ways the American hen is dis tributing her product all over the world, and recent arctic expeditions have carried similar supplies with them. —National Stockman. ON A SOUND BASIS. From n Mere Pastime Poultry Keep ing Ila* Developed Into a Sound aud Safe Buxines*. Half a century ago poultry keeping was simply a fashionable amusement and pastime. The.beginning may be said to be about 1847 to 1850, at the time of the introduction of the Shang hais. Those who have some knowledge of the history of the past have a fair idea of what poultry has accomplished. Thej casual observer of years- age* saw only enough of it to disgust him with the whole business. Men who were engaged in it saw enough money in it, and as many as had judgment enough to curtail expenses and reduce, stock at the right time came out with a little money and more or less experience, the latter worth perhaps as much in the long run as the money. A great many so-called fanciers, however, went into the business merely for the sake of the speculation and excitement it afforded, and went out of it without knowing or caring anything about the ultimate results, of the’ poultry interest at large. Fanciers of this type (and it is possible that there are a few of them in the business yet) were interested only in the proceeds, with no thought of what poultry breeding has done for the im provement of the general stock of the country and the increase of the prod ucts of the poultry yards of the nation. There have always been some fanciers who were true fanciers not specu lators—who worked for nobler ends than merely to make money. The money end, of course, was not lost sight of, but it was not the governing pur pose.—Farm and Fireside. LABOR-SAVING IDEA. How D rowed Chicken* Can He Kept In an Excellent Condition All Through the Winter. Instead of feeding all winter the chickens that are kept for occasional eating, have a lot dressed up when freezing weather comes and pack them in a box. Set this box into a larger BOX FOR PACKING CHICKENS box and fill the space between with now, well packed. I Fit a cover to the inner box and cover the whole top with snow, well packed. Fit a cover to the frozen there will be little danger from any "January thaw” and a pair can be taken out. thawed, cooked and eaten whenever desired, without any fear that the remainder will not keep well. —N. Y. Tribune. AMONG THE POULTRY. Athin turkey sells hard and at a low price. Wood ashes should not be used in the poultry house. A leafless tree or the top rail of a fence is very poor protection from storm or cold. A little thought, a little time and a very little money will add much to the comfort and health of the hens and to the profit of their owner. A few bushels of garden soil put in to the hen house now will come handy before next April. Try it and see if we are right in the statement. If soft food is fed it is an excellent plan to have a cover of slats over the trough which will permit the fow'r to eat and yet keep them from getting into their feed. Keep the old turkeys for breeding purposes. Select a few of the best young ones to take the places of those that have fallen by the way during the year, er that are too old.—Nation i al Fural. The New Cnp Defender. Now being built, is confidently expected to be the fastest sailing vessel ever built. Its construction is being kept a secret, but it it whispered that it will easily hold the cup. America i» rapidly coining to the front. A good example of this ; s in that famous household remedy, Hostetter’s Stomach Bit ters, which has defended health for half a century past. It holds the record for the cure of dyspepsia, indigestion, constipation, nervousness, biliousness and la grippe. There is no doubt but that a judicious grumble is of great use, for manv a bike is never oiled until it squeaks.—Aliy Slopes. There I* a Claim of People Who are injured by the use of coffee. Re cently there has been placed in all the gro cery stores a new preparation called GRAIN-0, made of pure grains, that takes the place of coffee. The most delicate stom ach receives it without distress, and but few can tell it from coffee. It does not cost over 1 as much. Children may drink it with great benefit. 15 cts. and 25 cts. per pack age. Try it. Ask for GRAIN O. There is no great achievement that is not tne result of patient working and waiting. —J. G. Holland. State of Ohio, Citt of Toledo, I Lucas County, i Frank J. Cheney makes oath that he is the senior partner of the firm of F. J. Cheney & Co., doing business in the city of Toledo, County ami State aforesaid, and that said firm will pay the sum of One Hundred Dol lars for each and every case of catarrh that cannot be cured by the use of Hall’s Catarrh Cure. FRANK J. CHENEY. Sworn to before me and subscribed in my presence, this 6th day of December, A. D. 1886. A. W. GLEASON, [Seal] Notary Public. Hall’s Catarrh Cure is taken internally and nets directly on the blood and mucous sur faces of the svstem Send for testimonials, free. F. J. CHENEY & CO., Toledo, O. Sold by druggists, 75c. Hall’s Family Pills are the best. The silence of a friend commonly amounts to treachery. His not daring to say any thing in our behalf implies a tacit censure. —Hazlitt. To Cure a Cold in One Day Take Laxative Bromo Quinine Tablets. All druggists refund money if it fails to cure. 25c. The amateur camera fellow may have a hard time of it, but he also has a snap.— Indianapolis News. We refund 10c for every package of Putnam Fadeless Dyes that fails to give satisfaction. Monroe Drug Co., Unionville, Mo. Sold by all druggists. There is no flattery more delicate to an unmarried man than to know a pretty wom an's tears.—Town Topics. Hale’s Honey of Horehound and Tar re lieves whooping cough. Pike’s Toothache Drops Cure in one minute. The third day after a man has put an article on sale, he becomes something of a cynic on friendship.—Atchison Globe. Have you ever experienced the joyful sen sation of a good appetite? You will if you ehew Adams’ Pepsin Tutti Frutti. There is only one thing which, properly speaking, always has its face value, and that is a kiss.—Town Topics. Piso’s Cure cannot be too highly spoken of is a cough cure.—J. W. O’Brien, 322 Third Ave., N., Minneapolis, Minn., Jan. 6, 1900. Some people help others; others help themselves.—Atchison Globe. 811 forerunner 'of fosomnfa I jgj M nervous pros- s Wrecks the strong enough to stand _ _ up under the strain of MM* WA MW* sleepless nights? It. is Ml* tS plain that nothing in the WW world can possibly take the place of restful sleep, __ —— _ yet many try to eke out FggS gS an existence without this W sustaining power. Their ww nerves are in such astate gUB EB XS of tension that sleep is Mwfcwflr ■ W B an impossibility, or at __ _ | __ oww best is a series of hideous I dreams. It is not strange I that physical and mental weakness, amounting soon to complete prostration, follows inability to sleep. There is no let-up to the strain. Vital forces are drawn upon, confirmed invalid ism results. < The recuperative power of natural sleep is wonderful. Complete physical aud mental exhaustion gives place, after a few hours of quiet slumber, to a full renewal of energy. The fatigue of body and Ur. Greene's NERVURA FOR THE BLOOD AND NERVES. ?jKpi Wi '■ I i a » \ Wshvjil du ; W if, mil f Wil If M THE CHANGE OF LIFE Is the most important period in a wo. man's existence. Owing to modern methods of living, not one woman in a thousand approaches this perfectly natural change without experiencing a train of very annoying and some* times painful symptoms. Those dreadful hot flashes, sending the blood surging to the heart until it seems ready to burst, and the faint feeling that follows, sometimes with chills, as if the heart were going to stop for good, are symptoms of a dan gerous, nervous trouble. Those hot flashes are just so many calls from nature for help. The nerves are cry- WLa & 'V~ y Mrs. Jennie Noble. ing out for assistance. The cry should be heeded in time. Lydia E. Pink ham’s Vegetable Compound was pre pared to meet the needs of woman’s system at this trying period of her life. It builds up the weakened nervous system, and enables a woman to pass that grand change triumphantly. “ I was a very sick woman, caused by Change of Life. I suffered with hot flushes, and fainting spells. I was afraid to go on the street, my head and back troubled ine so. I was en tirely cured by Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound.”— Mrs. Jennie Noble, 5010 Keyser St., Germantown. Pa. ■Skß&i fIBBB Dr Williams' Indian Pile W® j I eminent will cure Blind. X S KI Bleeding and Itching SMBgJEg Files It absorbs the BSSN’bJSS tumors, allays the Itch- 13 tals W log at once. acts as a St no M fij vS poultice, gives Instant re- ” .to SW lief. Prepared for Piles ■ andltcblngof theprlvata parts. At druggists or by mall on receipt of price 50 cent* and 81. Off. WILLIAMS MEG.. CO . Props . Cleveland. Ohio The Question of Dessert Is easily and simply solved with a package of Burnham’s Hasty Jellycon. It is only necessary to dissolve a package of it in boil ing water and set away to cool. The result is a delightfully pure jelly, and an ideal des sert. The flavors are orange, lemon, straw berry, raspberry, peach, wild cherry and the unflavored “calfsfoot” for making wine and coffee jellies. All grocers sell it. PA ANAKESISS: W-i W Her anti PONITIVE- S 6r ißß ,V < VKE.H PILES. m W W for free sample address “AA A KESIS.” Trib une building. New York. mind disappears entirely while all the muscles are strong and the nerves absolutely calm. ! Sleep is the indication given by Nature as a guide to human plans to restore health. It shows that there are inherent in the wonderful human organism powers of recupera tion which must have oppor tunity to assert themselves. Based on this clear demon stration, Dr. Greene’s Nervura blood and nerve remedy was constructed by Dr. Greene to help Nature combat the ills that attack men and women. What no amount of powerful drugs could possibly accom plish, can be successfully and promptly effected by healthy blood and nerves, the kind of blood which flows in strength ening flood to every portion of the body, the condition of nerves which permits awak ened Nature to seize its op portunity to restore to perfect health. Mrs. FLORENCE TAYLOR, of 4 Court land Plaue, Bridgeport, Conn., writes : “ For four years I was troubled with nervous debility and hysteria in a most aggravated form. It caused sleeplessness and mental depression, and for months I was confined to my beil My constitution wasted and I totally lost my appetite. I had many doctors, but they failed to give me any relief. I was advised to try Dr. Greene’s Nervura blood and nerve remedy 1 rrssin a terrible condition when I begau its use, and almost immediately there was a wonderful change came over me. I regained my appetite, the dtxztness in mv head departed; it renewed mv interest in life and made me feel.'in fact, like another person After taking six bottles I thankfully proclaimed mv self strong and well Those six bottles did for me what hundreds of dollars and numerous physicians failed to do ” Dr. Greene’s Ner vura is the Remedy that Cures. Full explanation ol these matters given by Dr. Uroene on request, with out charge. Dr. Greece's n ’dress is 35 West 14th Street, New York City. Consultation with him either by call or letter is absolutely free.