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3 . ! I 3 i ' r. - i if : DEMOCRii Y idtxioM iftirr .'--uu v ----- r:- " '"."V"- ' . - ' ; ,Yo,JGQI .-i C5- Jlottets j(4thfr.i)emocratic Party, and the Collection of Local and General News. . . - vu n ;, Two Dollars per Annum; in Adyance Spring's Banquet. coring cias as to ni oanquet With chime of snow-firtii hells. -v And spreads hisfeast of an ties In sheltered dales and dells. He pledges us in eroous on da. Pear), amethyst and cold, , V- " x-With amber wine of sunlight. Of preeiousness untold. M . , Keek rioleta hi ha' d -maids are I n modest purple drest. Hie lackeys, dandelion cay. 4 In preen, with yellow vest ; 'i J And bntteroups and daisies. In many a grassy field. - , Stand ready, at his bidding, t Fresh store of sweeU to yield.. .. , In depths of dusky woodlands ' The May-flowers hear his oaJl, " --'And timid, pale-faced liverworts, Tbe lowliest of all: , ... " "While delioate anemones Are brushing to behold" " -The pranks of emtio oolumbines - - Decked out in red and cold. Bright butterflies, with massages. Flit through the fragrant air. And stir of preparation Ts annndiiiff evervwhere. FrnBeloaeBt-ladn branches, Tha rlad musicians sing. And carol forth tha chorus, ' . , i AU Hail, to joyous Bprinc 1" -?i i . . ' - ; rBut 8princ's a trioksy fellow : ; He lures us out to roam. -r Then, spite ef all his dainties. -. i " He lends us huncry homo. " For boney-drops and dew-dropa, - 4 And even sunlight wine. Are surely insufficient ; Foe mortals who would din I - Tet heed his InTiUtion 1 ' " " " For pretty 'tis to see . - His notion of a banquet. .? 7 . i His festive rerelry. So, with the clad musicians,. Let every creature sine. -' ' i ' And eaml forth the chorus. ' ' ; i V , f All Hail, te joyous Bprinc 1". , IN THE BROOK. iSvIvia : lare.' had 'tome bacfc. Thia piece of news, Vhiepering front one to sutotber,Tas enough to set all the caps iii Baybreok nodding, -anct.,to;, stir the village int fippl of Tmttsaal excite ment. - - . ,1 wish J icould make you re Bay bToohr asritf' stood "that day, knee-deep in fallen yellow leaves, and rimmed by mountain' "range s of pale 'blue which seemed melting jnto the pale Novem ber 8ky.; Hush was 'the predominant 'character -of the-place. .The bare and -eongless woods into which the long etreet pluDgod at either end, where it sought the epen country, were no stiller than the v jllage at its-" busiest center. There was absolutely no sound in the sir, no voices, no hammers, no stir of occupation,, only :. the cawing of crows in the fields, and one faint shriek from a distant, locomotive ten miles away. The closely-shuttered houses looked dumb and lifeless. There, was life enough going on in back regions, life, and' hard domestic trial, but it wfan not visible textile road. The men jpQfhe place, gathered in the customary " itjcle .about tha poet-o.ifice store, can- vsTjed, if at all, in low husky tones, - T$ying their talk, with: the Life and in. terest of frequent expectoration. The. side-walk was deserted- ' Once or twice in the course of the morning a woman with fluttering garments passed along . pc, dodged into this door- or that, but er presence brought no 'relief to th rrevailing sense of lifelessness, or rtike it only with "that . slight surprise crhich we experience when some bird,' a robin pf4elated woodpecker, bnisher u in Tthe wintry woods. t-But-for all' this peaceful exterior, Bay brook did not. lack its gossips; In' the -remote : kitchens, where so ' much" unseen, business was done, great, inter change of neighborly chat was going on; - it Mis Wilder' a, for instance, old MiB" Philbrick had run ..over "'cross lots" to interview hereronyon the topic of the day, and Mis' Wilder, taking out. .her knitting and banishing " the girls'' in - clamt-ily contrived en and -to the buttery, had fairly settled down for en joyment. While Hepsyand Fris, in dignant at being sent off, and 6n very tip-top of curiosity, were doing their lit tle all to overhear through the chink of -the door. ' ; " " " . - " Who's Bylvia Dare?" asked Pris, catching the name amid the tantalizing bum, hum, hum of the low voices. I don') know," replied Hepsy, with wide "open eyes. . "Somebody awful, I guess,' ." .-' ' : Poor Sylvia ! r It was not so very long ten or twelve years at utmost since she left her native village, and already her name was a strange one in the ears of the generation who now usurped her place. . She wasn't " somebody awful'.' then. .The elders remembered - her, a willful," beautiful girl, carrying all before- her with' "the insolence of youth and. vanity, "flirting now. with - this young man, now with that, and break ing more than one heart. They recol . lected the time of her brief engagement to-Phil.Thorpe tha likeliest fellow in the county and his wretched looks when, some months after it was all bro ken off, she vanished from home to re turn no more. " " Gone on a long visit .to orne friends ' in York," old Miss Dare said, in & last -effort to- save her darling's credit ; but a year later, when she lay dying, the poor aunt confessed -the truth,-he did not know where Sylvia was,"- she- Lad never known, Neither word r.or 'sign had come from 4taeichil-"Wince she went away. A dark cloud of surmise rested thenceforward over- the .fate o( the village beauty, never . lifted until now, when, marvel ous to relate, she had come back. - "But when did she come back?" -asked Mis Wilder. Last night," replied Mis' Philbrick, bringing her cap nearer. "Jehiel For bes was to the depot with his team, and l v-. ci J : -J . 1, uo loivutju iier uycj, outs uiuii b orej. nor give no -sign who she was, and be neter ' mistrusted at"- first she waa so changed . I ...Not much of Jiand some Sylvie- Dare left, I reckon. But by-and-by he asked where did she want - to be set down? and she says, says she, in a kind eft . hesitatmg voice, 4 Ja old Miss Dare alfve yet? 1 ' And. their Jehiel he said, 4 Why, tidr 'Mis" Dare 'died a Jong piece back,'not more'n a year after her niece-went-otf.'-- And at that she Icind of choked, and 'pulled down her veiL and thenJ ehrel jruejsed. So he didn't say "anything more till they got real near theJ Village, and then he asked again where would she-- be set down ? And at first sWa didn't Vnswerpand then she said i'.Oii. J don't know i drive to the kaxasv where Miss J)are usedtoJiye, Perbaus-iJiev'll take me there -to board,' Bftys.ghe, "and sbeburstriight out; Crying. Jebel; iays karfelt real bad, and be took 1 .. . virij - : . t; t;- -. , ... her ihere and fixed it all straight with Mis'-Clark, and febe'e got the-roomier aunt-uted to have. Mis' Clark don't know yet who it is she's got ' board ing with her. She 'n. Mr. Clark's pretty much strangers yet in these parts, you know. But I wouldn't won der if somebody was to tell her before long." "Poor Sylvie! I hope not,"Eaid the gentler woman. "And Jehiel says she's so changed ?" " . ' (- " He says she don't look: to him as if she was long for this world," responded Mis' PhilbrickJ : " Dre dful : thin and holler, and with a cough that it shakes vou all to nieces to hear. Poor cretur. as you say, Mis Wilder. The way of the transgressor u nam mere s no doubt about it I Well, I must be goin'." " Mother," cried Pris and Hepsy, re leased at last from their buttery, " who u Sylvia Daze that you and Mis' Phil brick was talk:ng about? Do tell us about her." " She's a poor child who used to live here, and who's come back to die, I'm afraid, replied the mother, cautiously. " Don't mind about her, girls, but come up stairs with me, and help pick over the carpet-rags. It's time they was sorted out." And in the excitement of matching blues and yellows, and arranging for black stripes . and brown, Hepsy and Pris forgot their curiosity. But their mother did not forget, and prayed long and earnestly that night for the wan derer brought so strangely back to her horse.' - i ' : : Meantime Sylvia was lying in the bed where, as a child, she had slept beside her kind old aunt. The room was little changed.--: There was the old-fashioned. cherry bureau, the maple .wash-stand, the pine shelf in the corner, on which Miss Dare's black-bound Bible used to lie. Sylvia even recognized " the musty smell which breathed from the closet, a sort of ghostly waft from by-gone and traditional appareL There was the wall-paper,, with, its wavy pattern, which once she had loved to follow" with her finger until it lost itself in : the rcorner angle." There was "the .-small looking glass which had reflected a fair young face in. those other days, not so very long ago; and, the -.broken,- slat in the blind, net mended yet,. through . which the sun sent its morning greeting. His beams lay, a bright spot, on the same strip of faded carpet. - Could they Tiave been lying there all this time ? Sylvia thought, pursuing her recollections with languid interest. She felt tired too tired to rise. She would lie still for a day or two, and then' she should be better. And she wondered.' if anybody would remember her ? would come to see her ? and for the first time in years a painful curiosity to know what had been said of her absence awoke in her mind. - Once she had not cared. Could it be-true,' what Jehiel said, that her aunt's death had really had anything to do with Aa(?t,Arid Sylvia closed her ye,f then opened thenr again, and' tossed fever ishly about-. , s-j v-n All that day and the next' she lay lan guid and restless. Her landlady came now andr ; then,, bringing up tea -ami such other'ttles suggested thSmi selves; but a sharp inquisitive manner had replaced, the fussy - good-ntur-:of her earlier greeting, and Sylvia guessed that herstory was known. '' Why had she come back ? she " asked herself, in fits of miserable despondency. She did not know that it was but the instinct of all bunted and dying things, turning with desperate- longing to the morning covert where their race began, and which to the end is home. M " " - The third morning was warm and sunny. A- oreamy naze soicenea the mountain: outline and clothed the bare woods with many-hued mists. Sylvia felt stronger; Rising feebly, she dressed, and, wrapped in a shawl, sat down be side the open window, rne pure air, the -quiet and peace of all out-door things, the lovely penciling of the elm boughs; as they fell between her eyes and the. sky,' thrilled her ' with vague pleasure.-- XsoDody seemed to be mov ing; all things slept or appeared to sleep, though blue smokes curled from chimneys, and here and there the upper half of a front door stood open to ad mit the air. How pretty, how - hushed it was ; how like the old life, and yet how different. By-and-by a girl came by a girl about the ' age of that girl who had passed from all these peaceful things so long ago. As she walked she glanced upward, and, catching a glimpse of Sylvia's head against the side of the window, paused, stared curiously and then hurried on again with a look of sly confusion. Sylvia shrank back. Why bad she come again T she again asked, herself. . ' ; - The next day was Sunday. A bright and fitful Bun shone in at the pane, but the clouds had deepened on the moun tains, and the winds blew with a keener edge. Jt braced Sylvia's languid frame like atonic Looking out toward noon, she saw orderly groups of people pass ing home fiom church, aha a desire to leave the house seized her. Perhaps she bad been mistaken ; perhaps nobody would know her, after all, or. knowing, some kind soul might speak tenderly and pityingly to her. Even pitv would be sweet, thought bylvia in her loneli ness, and wrapping herself in shawl and veil, she crept down stairs and into ine sweet. People were not going home from church, however. An unusual throng was . pouring through Squire Welch's gate, and moving in long lines across the brown meadow which lay beyond, What could it mean 7. " Where are the folks going?" asked Sylvia of a little boy who stood with pocketed nands near the gate. , " Down to see the . baptizin','! replied the boy. - " Aint you goin'? There's ten on 'emibaside the Elders a goin' in. I guess the water'il be pretty cold too." Some vague:' recollection floated through Sylvia's mind, as her feet rather than . her will bore , her along in the track of the procession ; recollections of a baptizing to which she had been taken years before.'. ". Yes, it . ; must . have been here that -it took place ; here, where Bayberry Brook pretty Bavber? ry, from which the village borrowed ita name rah deepest. . But at first sight of the stream, curring through its banks of sedge and golden grass, this . t remembrance forsook her. lost in a tide of other thoughts. .' Half her childhood had been passed in this meadow besiae the brook. There was the shallow where she and Phil built the dam. Under that bank he found the lark's nest which he showed her and kept a secret from all the other girl?." Just then she had caught her first trout.. She remembered how the hook got tangled in her curls, and how Phil worked for half an hour totting :iti out. .ke could feel his ngers now, and see the. bright boyish face close to her ' own, and feel 'his breath on her cheek.". And on that hummock strangest memory of all they had sat thatevening when he asked her to mairy him, Poor Phill She had felt sorry about him sometimes of late years. She wondered if he were alive yet if he had quite got over feel ing bad about, her. But pshaw! of course he had. And thus the path, pursued almost unconsciously, brought her to the bank where people were standing in silent attentive groups. For a moment Sylvia shrank back. Then, perceiving that no one turned or seemed to notice her presence, she ven tured to linger, even to press forward a little, and soon, absorbed in what was going on, she forgot all else. Directly beneath where she stood lav the deep pool in which. Bayberry,. losing for a time its happy, rippling murmurs, ran with placid and noiseless force. The farther bank was soft with tufts of yel low grass. - There stood, the choir, and even as she gazed the leader raised his hand and led the air of a wild, sweet hymn, full of that blended triumph and pathos which distinguishes the Metho dist hymnal, and which seems caught from, those early days when, on lonely bill-tops and Cornish moors, John Wes ley stood and poured his burning mes sage into the ears of the common ' peo ple, 'who heard him gladly. Never under gay English skies did the strains ring with gladder meaning than now beneath the !blue New England heavens, with the distant solemn mountains looking on, and the plash and jingle of Bayber ry Brook sounding each note like an unseen accompaniment. - One verse no . more then, a bustle and stir took place in the crowd below, and, slowly emerging; two figures descended the bank and passed into the water. i One ' was a gray-haired . Elder : the other ayoung woman, with long, stream ing hair and black garments, btep by step they gained the center of the pool, where the water, was deepest, and, standing waist-deep, paused, and turned so as to face the people. . .Sylvia bent forward, i She heard the sacred formula pronounced, saw the girl's head with its heavy tresses' bend suddenly backward and vanish beneath - the- swirling- waves. Another moment it rose again, and drip ping and gasping the girl was led by the Elder toward the shore, and assisted up the bank by her friends, while a wild strain of welcome rang from the choir. Another baptism followed, and another. Thenrsomev unusual -excitement shook the- audience as a tall man's figare-ckme forward leading a young woman by the hand Sylvia' just caught sight' of the girl's face as thev passed : a fair, modest one), framed in flight, braided hair; but the JSider advanced, and "-placing him self between the two, led them into the broofcrrXhe words lof ctmsecratin wtere uttered, the dark head and the fair van ished, in turn beneath the water, and the forms turned again toward the bank, the young man holding up the girl with a strong arm. Her sweet, drip ping face was quite unruffled in expres sion. His Sylvia gasped as she gazed wore a look of steadfast, honest peace, which made the strong features -absolutely beautiful.. It was Philip Thorpe, i i i .i. . i u but a man, every inch of him ; a man of whom a woman might well be 'proud. And just then a gust of wind seized and blew aside her veil, and Philip's eyes, as he slowly ascended the bank, met hers, and he knew his lost, love's facel , " How dreadful . white Phil Thorpe looks, don't he? ' whispered somebody near- by in the crowd. "1 wouldn't wonder if he'd taken his death of chilL" "But Mary Allen don't," was there- ply. ' She's just .as pretty and calm as if she hadn't been in the water at all. No wonder Phil thinks such a heap of her. - Jiilder Quinn he wanted them to go in separate, but Phil wouldn't hear to it. she and me's going through iile together, and we're going to be baptized together,' he said. The Elder couldn't do nothing with him. 1 don't blame him one mite, for my part." Sylvia heard no more. . The burning flush which bad rushed into her face on meeting Phil's eves gave place to death like pallor and a feeling of sickly faint- ness. With desperate footsteps she hurrie I back across the meadow, feel ing each .moment as u she must sink. The wild, sweet strain of the choir pur sued her . .. He will save you . He will save you - : Be will save you just now. ' Just now , . He will save you just now." Would He? Oh, if He would! When, a girl is, in country parlance. " sitting up with a young man," it is desirable that her parents should make a practice of going to bed early. Farmer Allen ana his dame were not behind hand in this respect. .'They knew what was expected of them, and duty, fortu nately, coincided with both habit and inclination. . So by 8 o'clock all was stiH that Sunday evening in the old home stead, except for the distant creak of some bedstead : bending - under the weight of a sleeper;-and- the crackling oi tne. ample . pre upon the kitchen hearth, .beside -which the lovers sat. Philip was in the farmer's big chair, and Mary on a low stool drawn up close to it. rihere were tears on her fair cheek and Philip looked grave and pale as he stroked her Bmall fingers in his broad paim. . . "And so it's been like a cloud over the day the day we said was going to be so happy, Mary. ''Not that -it hasn't been happy, dear I must : take that back happy in some ways. But all the time 1 am seeing that face that poor changed face." . ... -. .- " If she good looking still ?", faltered Mary, ' - ' 4 .'V No,',' not . good ' looking now. You needn'.t worry, dear. The bright pretty .faoe. of fW,. times, js all tgoner. Nobody i" - "I will have to fret any' more over 'Sylvia Dare's beauty." ; ; "Oh, Phil, I'm not worrying," said Mary, almost crying ; " it's only only" " I know, dear," very tenderly. " It's only that to-day, of all days, you and I were to belong entirely to each other and ' to God. .And we do, -darling. . I wouldn't go back if I could to that old time when Sylvie made me so miserable. This new time is more to me than that ; and you, my Mary, a thousand times dearer than ever she was. But some men can't ever forget the past, or lay it aside, or bury it awsy out of sight, and I am one of them. My love for bylvia Dare died long ago.- I wouldn't dig it up again if I could by saying the word. But when 1 saw her lace to-day, so un happy, dear, so changed, I forgot all that has come between, all her wrong and my anger, and saw only the little Sylvia who used to be my sweetheart at Bchool and play with me beside Bay berry Brook. Don't be angry with me, darling, but help me to think -what we can do for poor Sylvie." Angry, Phil" kissing him " why, how could I ? I love you all the more for being so tender-hearted iust like a woman, dear for all you're so big and strong. But what can we do ?" 1 am trying to think, darhng. . If you were my wue it would be easy. We would go together to Sylvie, and comfort her together. But it won't do for me to go . now ; and if you made friends with her, people would talk so. Even your '' . - ; " But Phil," cried true-hearted Mary, " why need we mind people's talking if what we do is right? Tell me that you wish me to go and I'll go to-morrow. Or you needn't tell me : I'll go any way, because I want to go. And, dear,", the sweet face grew tender; "you know we said that we would try to look out for something good to do something we could help or give to in memory of this day when we professed church mem bership together. Perhaps this is the very work. Perhaps He has sent this poor thing specially to us; who knows, Phil?" While thus tender soul took counsel over her fate, Sylvia stood alone beside Bayberry Brook. A long afternoon of fever had bred within her such restless disquiet and impatience of the confined air of her room that, haunted with the to escape, she had risen from her bed about 9 o'clock in the evening, and, wrapped in a shawl, had crept un perceived from the house. - The night was wild and gusty. It had rained heavily over the mountains all day, and masses of heavy cloud, driven by the wind, were now scudding across the sky, catching up in their folds and then releasing the moon,, whieh here and there gleamed out with fitful splen dor. A boding moan came on the breeze, significant of coming storm. It fell like some' awful,'' tortured human voice upon the ears of the half-delirious girl, as with Vapid steps she passed along the meadow-path, now silent and de serted. Gaining at last the bank where in the morning she had stood, sbe paused and ' bent over, with clasped hands, weeping and talking to herself. .. . , v un, what a a read ml, dreadtui world it is !" she sobbed : " I didn't know how dreadful - till I came back here. That girl's face ! Did my face ever look like tha? so happy and quiet ! I had for gotten girls could look so ! . How Phil changed when he saw me! He turned white, and his eyes stared as if I was something awful. And I am 1 I am a ghost ! the ghost of little Sylvia Dare, who used to play beside Bayberry Brook. Oh, if I could only go back and be her go back to the time when.! went to school across this meadow, and Aunt Orphah used to call me a 'good child !' Good! Ah, no! Nobody will ever say that to me again ! .. " If there was only some way of going back going back ! Any way to get rid of the burden of one's self! What did that hymn say " " He will save you just now V Not me ! That couldn't mean me ! I wish it did. I wish the Elder would take hold of my hand and lead me in and dip me under, as he did this morn ing, and say those words, and all these wretched years could slip off and float away, and I could rise up again washed clean, with a face like that, girl's, and walk out and begin over! , Oh dear! That would be good I" he hlled her hands with the water and poured it over her burning head. " That is nice," she said " nice and cool. Perhaps, if I went in and stood just there where Phil btooaV this morn ing, x snouia do cooi au tnrougn, ana this pain would go away.' I'll leave my shawl. here, though, to keep dry till I came out." . She threw the shawl upon the ground and waded in. The stream had risen since morning, fed by the mountain rains, but she never heeded the added depth. Intent upon reaching the mid dle, of the pool, where the morning's baptism had taken, place, she hurried forward. Now the' water was at her waist now above her breast. A hasty slip her footing gave way the water was over her head. Instinctively she struggled, for one moment grasped the air then a sudde gladness possessed her: "Just now," she murmured, with a wild smile on her white face then gave herself to the stream and sank The moon plunged into sudden eclipse of cloud; the wind sounded with dreari er moan then, ere the ripples of Syl via's passa'ge had: ceased in the brook. the silvery radiance again streamed forth and lit the eddying circles. The breeze died into stillness, and bush and night possessed the place. They found her in the morning. The stream had floated her downs Utile way to where a tiny cape of yellow grasses arrested its flow and there, half in, half out of the water, she lay pillowed on the slope. The brown waves played lightly-with her garments and fanned and caressed her form as a mother caresses her child.'' A smile of perfect peace rested on' her lips. She was fa'r and young and innocent i the deep bap tism' of Death had washed awav all stain of life's anguish, and sbe seemed as pne fallen aieepr s , , j-v o 5 1 .J She looks dreadful happy, dqa she" said old Mis' Phil brick. . But fhuip and Mary were' heavy a - - ' " wet were going to be so good to her on the morrow," they siid to each other ; " if she had only knowti if she only had lived one dy longer !" In the meadow, not far from the water s edge, is Sylvia s grave. Bough hands laid her to rest and smoothed the brown sods over her; but many kind words were spoken, and no harsh ones, for the village folk were not ungentle at heart. The mui mur at Bayberry sounds forever past her bed, and Philip's little children come sometimes to put daisies and pink mallow-buds on the mound. And sometimes, though rare ly, Philip comes himself, and stands, and thinks, and stoops to brush a stick or a dead leaf from the grass. The blue sky arches her in, the curving mountain chain encircles her- and so Sylvia rests. Farm and Garden. Sprouting Potatoes to Advance the Crop. The Germantown Telegraph says : " Sprouting white potatoes will advance the crop two weeks. They should be cut so that about two eyes are allowed to each piece, and these should be planted in hot beds with very thin covering of soil ; or it is better to plant in boxes and set these in a hot bed, so that after they are properly sprouted they can be at once carried to the place of planting. ' If the nights should be anyway cold, protect 'with thin cover ing of straw when the plants make their appearance above ground. Some per sons who want a large quantity sprouted. cut the potatoes as desired, and spread them on boards, boxes or crates, in a dark place, and when sprouted, say from an inch to an inch and a half, ex pose them to the light, moistening two or three times a week with tepid water. They should be planted out so that there is not more than two inches of soil over the top of the sprouts." Poultry son the Farm. The ordinary farmer has this advantage over the pro fessional poultry keeper his fowls cost him little in the way of food and almost nothing for care. He usually labors under the disadvantage of not giving his fowls enough care, and of managing some things about them with a -great disregard tor true economy. 11 is towls, during much of the year at least, live on food that would otherwise have been wasted, or on that the eating of which is ; a positive advantage to the owner. This makes . the eggs . and . . poultry obtained almost a matter of net gain. But because the fowls cost little, fur nishes no good reason for keeping those that are useless and such are kept on many farms. .. In many cases the stock never , reduced by sale only by deaths from old age, disease or accitlent, and by killing a good share of the young for home use. We imagine that quite a numoer oi our -readers, if they would take the trouble to look at their stock of poultry, would find one to a half dozen cocks which had better be disposed of, on ac count of old age, quarrelsome disposi tion, or because they are, m every way inferior fowls, simply . left, over, having accident ally escaped killing ' ' ' when young and also-a-goodly number, oi venerable - hens, , or those nooDiing on frozen feet," -etc ' To-, keep such .fowls over the winter ' will .'.cost something j and all this cost will be a loss, for, even if they do not die, such fowls are almost useless.; It will be much better to dis pose of them now, sending those fit for eating to market or to the home table, and killing and burying the others. Many farmers would do well to thus reduce their stock one-half. Better care of the remainder might follow with ad vantage in many cases. It possibly will be neither advisable or necessary to build a poultry house, but some comfor table place should oe provided wnere the fowls may be protected from storms and cold winds, by day as well as night. Every consideration of economy will dictate good feeding during winter, so as to prevent the low is oe coming poor. Fowls with insufficient food or exposed to severe storms will not lay well ; while it is eouallv true that very many persons do get a goodly number of eggs during the" winter months, by giving good food and comfortable quarters to young, healthy hens. We certaimy would hot advise farm ers to purchase large numbers of fancy poultry, but on many farms the - old stock has run down by long interbreed ing, poor care, and no selection. In such cases a change is certainly desira ble, and this should be had by obtaining a good cock, either from a neighbor's vard or from some fancier. For our selves we should decidedly prefer to have fowls of some established breed, and would not feel satisfied with a stock widely varying in size, color, and form. But whatever class is kept, some care in selection will be necessary to keep them from degenerating. Weeiern farmer. AUike Clover in Michigan. Samuel Booth, Branch county, Michigan, writes the Western Bur alt ." A year ago list spring. I hesitatingly purchased enough of the seed to sow twenty-five acres, it taking at the rate of four and one-third pounds to the acre,. at one dollar per pound. . l sowed in the month oi Apru on ground prepared for and sowed to wheat. I harrowed the ground and afterward plastered it. Notwithstand ing the dry season, I out from the ground about forty tons of hay in July. I drew m my barn nve tons lor ieecung ; the balance I stacked, and in Septem ber thrashed it and got eighty-nve bushels of seed. Before cutting I brought in some stalks which measured four feet in length. The field on WlllUlA IV nSO BVVTll X0 UlgUl lUUUl ...... j soil dark sandy loam, i am leading this winter mv entire stock, consisting of horses and cattle, on the hay that was thrashed. They never thrived better on any feed than they do at the present time. It is free : from fuz and dust, and the stalk, unlike the other clover, remains green alter the seed has ripened, and the cattle seize it with an avidity that would plainly indicate its superiority over the common red clover.- It is also excellent for the honey bee, equal if not surpassing the white clover.- The first cutting pro duces the seed, and afterwards excel lent pasturage, but if preferred for hay and no seed.i it nroducea two- crops. With the knowledge t have of it, would not reoontmend it fof light, yeuunj B9UUY auu. Hints for the Housewife. ' Lemon for a Cough. -Roast the lemon very carefully without burning it ; when it is hot cut and squeeze into a cup upon three ounces of sugar, hnelv. powdered. Take a spoonful whenever your cough troubles you. it is good and agreeable to the taste. . Barely has it been known to fail of giving relief. , ; A Relish for Breakfast or Lunch. Take a quarter of a pound of good, fresh cheese ; cut it up in thin slices and put it in a spider, turning over it a large cupful of sweet milk ; add a quarter of a teaspoon ful of dry mustard, a dash of pepper, a little salt, and a piece of but ter as largo as a butternut ; stir the mix ture all the time. Have at hand three Boston crackers finely powdered or rolled ; Bprinkle them in gradually ; as soon as they are stirred in turn the con tents into a warm dish and serve. , . Scalloped Potatoes. Boil in the skins, peel quickly when done, and rub through a cullender or coarse sieve, or m'sh smoothly ; season highly with Bait, pepper and butter; add two or three hard boiled eggs -chopped fine. . Four eggs to a quart of mashed potatoes are nice ; but if not plenty two will an swer. - Fill a baking dish with it, and bake long enough to form a delicately brown crust. Serve as soon as taken from the oven. ; ' A Brilliant Stucco Whitewash. Take clean lumps of well-burnt lime, slack it in hot water in a tub, and cover it to keep in the steam. - It should then be passed through a. fine sieve in a fluid form, to obtain the flower of lime. Add a quarter of a pound of whiting or of burnt alum, two pounds of sugar, three pints of rice flour made into a thin and welT-boiled paste, and one pound of glue dissolved over a slow fire. .. It is said to be more brilliant than plaster of Paris, and it will last hlty years. - it should be put on warm with a paint brush. . . Boiled. Ham. -Cat thin slices from the middle of the ham, as true and uniform as possible, having the knife very sharp. Hut it by carelessness some parts are thicker than others, roll the thick part out, stoutly, with '. a rolling-pin , Soak an hour or two in warm water, unless the ham is quite fresh. Have the grid iron perfectly free from roughness, and well heated; then broil over a brisk fire, turning constantly, that no part may be black: If cut thin enough, it will take but a few minutes to broil. When done, butter and pepper to suit the taste. For breakfast, an ooielet, or eggs cooked in some acceptable way, should always go with ham. . ' Spiced VeaL -Chop three' pounds of veal steak and one thick slice of salt fat pork as fine as sausage-meat ; add to it three Boston crackers rolled, hne, three well-beaten eggs, half a teacup of toma to catsup, a teaspoonful and a half of fine salt, a teaspoonful of pepper, and one, grated lemon. ..Mould it into the form of a loaf of bread, in a small dripping-pan f cover with one rolled crack errand baste with ) a teacupful of ' hot water . and ; melted butter, with - two tablespoonfuls of the, butter. -. Bake for three hours, basting every' little while (this 'makes it moist). ' Make the' day before it is desired :for 'the tabled slice very t thin, and garnish,- with lices of lemon and Jjits of, parsley, : . ; ... . , i7. Current Items. I IIakriit Becchkr Stowx makes $15,- 000 yearly off her Florida farm. A daughter of James Russell Lowell was married in Cambridge, Mass., a few days ago, to idward Burnett, ot isoston. ' ' At the sale of Le Grand Xockwood's collection, in New York, last Thursday evening, sixty-two pictures . brought $43,190. . Richmond, Va., furnished to the market, in the six months ending March 31, 7,227,802 pounds of chewing tobacco, and 591,956 pound ol smok ing tobacco. . , - . , Conoressmkx : have until ' the 1st of July to fill vacancies .in the Naval Academy at Annapolis, lhe present number of cadels is 215, while the max imum allowed by law is 334. " ' Ths Pennsylvania oil region contains 2,000 square miles. ' Of this' space only ten square miles are actually worked. Last year's yield was about 5300,000 barrels of lorty-three gallons each. Rev. Stcaet' Robinson, of Louisville. has sued the Missouri Democrat lor oU,- 000, for alleging that he had' recom mended during the war that infected clothing should be shipped to the .North. , At the ruins of a malt house, in the burnt district . of Chicago, lately, work men came upon smouldering material, which burst into flames on exposure to the air. The fire had smouldered for six months. . ; ; ; Td tttiilAnta rtf AmhAMt fVkllecrA. yw : 1 J : .: i .UA 1 .r a pa to be permitted to attend a dancing school. Some time ago the young gen tlemen asked for this privilege and were refused. : Dr "M" r.n ri atr niurit. Colonel IL R. Mo- W1U j.ovv v " - road Association, was robbed at a hotel in Grenada, Miss., of diamonds, a gold watcn, si,zuu, ana aio ui tui icuui . ' ..i i j -ii - valued at several mousanu uwuvb. of BADtiats of West Tennessee, North Missouri, and Arkan- . -mm- 1 1 J .A oaa iv onocinn in rvi AmnniK. iihh hca that body to saise $200,000 in the event ... . . ., -r . : . xt : that the csouinern xtapiisu uiuiotuij, Of lireenvilie, O. J., remmeu iv vicinity of Memphis. Js a leading bank - in Stockholm all i .u.Viira a.ira fni" nima vears oast .otiafutr.nT'ilv filled bv females. " ' . -'J That is what might have been ex pected. Jfivery one wno ua ever m trusted a secret w wrauu m.uwm thev make first-rate tellers.' ; . A notk from a gentleman who was ' snowed up '-in Maine, states that during the last storm so" 'much snow tVi bflvholft of the noo -v o J outside door of the house where he was stopping, . that, it took' two men two days to shovel it out. And that wasn't the hardest storm of the month by any means, ' A Canni-Ballad. TPs about an ancient cannibal man. Who eume from an islaixi near Japan. a canmoai man wno wv tourn ana old. When Barnaul bouzht him and naid In srotd. Ani whether the man or Barnam was sold. Xou will learn In this solemn story..- ,- His teeth were sharp as the teeth of a law. -. And be bad two rows in bis lower jaw Filed and nnlished. and ready for one . .... On mf muttnmftr fnll .f iiliftfl. Or the first fine baby that lay around loose. .. nor oabies were all nis sriory. A sad mistake for a cannibal band - - ' ' ' ' 1 i To come to an almost babyless land. s , . - For babies are stranralv ont of atvle r You may travel the country many a mile. Without tne litrnt ot a baby-smtie Unless with tne lutca and lnsL. Bnt H&rn(im leant bis man In a eaffe. Thouirh he felt quite sure, at the fellow's ae.' That his oannibalistio feats were done. Unless he should eat a man for fun: And onoe, on the sly, he fed him one. w hioh wasn't a wue proceeding-. For, bavins; tasted a white man's meat.4 i He was always ready to kill and eat , And he looked with lonainr at rosy cirls . . Who came to the show in shining? cnrls. With cheeks like peaches and -teeth lkk pearls. ana ne wondered now tney las tea. .... -. . It happened one, when the flesh was weak. ' That he snatched a bite from a rosy cheek : When Barnum entered the oaaje to beat him. The cannibal thought he had oome to treat him. And so straightway becan to eat him, - w ltnout even salt or pepper. s .. And though he was strinsrv and awful tour h. . . For a toad eanare meal he Droved enough- AIas 1 alack 1 what a terrible omen i It reaches to women as well as showmen - t That whether cannibal. Greek or Roman, . ts aver so ota, vou c&n trust no man.. 1 1 , Varieties. Poor a as A burning shame." ' . " Spell-bound lildreri at school. ' ' Th compositor's" grievance -Out of sorts. " Tat elephant lives 200 years."-r-.Er. If you don't believe it, buy one and see for yourself.' ' V" - - That Vermont girl who: splits a cord of wood daily, will be woo'd. by a raft of fellows when she grows up, ( A pen-portrait in an Indianapolis paper of Godlove Orth -says " he -uses a deal of hair-dye.'? - Well, don't, whom Godlove die young ? " . Ti . Tioiiil ?t-i'l .'I '. A German lately married says : r'' Id vas youst so eay as a needle cood valk out mit a camel's eye'as to get der be hindb vord mii a voomans. ' .,- i' ; '. j - Thbbb was a little maid. . . - ' j. -Vt hen the neighbors' hens had laid : Their eggs in her father's sardeu, . ; ; j ' She used to sell them, so , She bought some ealioo . -. - - ; o -- ; And made herself a bowling Dolly Varjen. Th building for women students at Cornell University, will, be commenced this year, and is to cost about $150,000, with a . gift -pf v $100,000 besides. Women will probably be admitted next September. ., , ,r."-V i --. " A sim plx mode of avoiding the spread of Small-pox has been discovered in Ala bama. - They let the patient die . safely by himself, hire a negro, to bury him, and shoot the negro -as.- soon asi them at is hnjshed.- j .. .5.; ,r. -t r. : , .Walter, a five-year old, was surprised t breakfast by' the presence of " at diminutive egg, served' for; his special delectation He thus accounted for the egg's smallness : " Mamma, I think the ehieken was learning to lay.; i : j -tt " A sntANaiit. meeting a' man in the streets of Boston, a few days since, roughly accosted him with,1 44 Here,' 1 want to go . to the Tremont House I? The deliberate reply was : " Well, yon can go if you won'be gone long." A ladt was once reading to a little boy aged seven the story of the resur rection of .Lazarus. . Seeing.. peculiar expression on his countenance when tne condition of Lazarus's body was men tioned, she sought to divert , his ; .at tention from the circumstance by asking him what ne supposed xne aiscipros aiu when he grave wa opened ? - Dunno," said he, "I s'posethey held their noses." A chapter of " Notes in Rome," in an English magazine, opens with the - fol lowing anecdote :. " Did you visit Rome in your travel asked a gentleman in the interval ot a waltz, oi nis parraer who had jutt returned from doing the continent of Europe. : 'Rome? Romer replied the young lady, in a hesitating voice; 'let me- see.' Did we-go; to, Rome? O yes. , That is wnere we , saw a woman shaving a dog on the steps of a church.'" - A T.ADT was asked by her Biddy, about the . nature of - the next : world, and whether it would be just like this. The lady being blessed with a happy family of eleven children, has a skeleton in the unoA TV, fiiA ttbnru nf . fttnckiiifr-basket that never- gets-empty, and at whose side sne has spent many j . With this spectre - before her eyes she replied to T ... , r II Li T J 1 k:l. the gin piayiuny s a uuu w shall be required to darn stockings after midnight." " Sure and that's thrue for ou, mum, for all tne pictures oi angeia ! have ever seen were barefutted." Fraudulent Pensions. T. ia iutimntiul ibst a. vast number of claims for pensions growing out of the rebellion, probably one-fourth, are fraud- . m . i J A. xLa men tv A plan nas oeen propweu w aiAM;-;A.An Ar PanttAna -svnd tr i.HA y.s sii ifinniuiini va A oavfcf - - Congressional Committee on Pensions, . . . ., f r 1 1 J 1 by which the sysiem oi irauu wuiu w destroyed, and which would ieaa o detection of fraudulent claims hereto fore granted. : It is to publish in each county alphabetical lists of all persons to whom pensions have been or shall be granted, giving the residence, xkc., of each person pensioneu, anu w iuruu thereof" to each Federal and State officer of the county. This, it is believed, would result in Baviug uumuu. of dollarj annually to the Government, and in bringing to punishment all con cerned in tne irauas, anu wuuiu tiwra the Commissioner ot .Tensions to mod ify the requirements of his office so as to render it possible for all honest claim ants to comply with them. ... A dispatch from Dt. Peters, of Litch field observatory, Hamilton college, an nounces the discovery by him of another planet at 2 o'clock on Wednesday morning. It was in 11 hours, 56 min- utes, 52 seconds of right ascension, and 4 degrees, 45 minutes south declination, with a retrograde motion of 39 seconds toward the north," 3 minutes per day. It ia a star between the 11th. and 12th magnitude, '"'.- ...-. '-' " , - . - i .i ; " ft 1 '