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Pi OEM UPPLE HVT. lEOST T. VOL. 3. PHCENIX, MARICOPA COUNTY, ARIZONA TERRITORY, SATURDAY, MAY 31, 1879. NO. 24. y n m .-- BEE LD. The Governess. BY lfTHAX Z. URXEB. Child laughter, ringing and hearty. With the swifi-paced music ascend. Where a great lady givea a party To the children of her friends ; And hither and thither moving The governess takes her way, Her varied acquirements proving In helping the dears at their play. Happy mammas and misses Of her own age throne the hall, Bat her part in t he dances and kisses Is to be bat of use to all. Schoolroom by day, and at even To encourage, amuse, and what not, There is little in life to leaven Her work-a-day, bumble lot. Snnbbed by her elders daily, Teased by the littla ones, Or patronized half gaily By tbeairish, grown-np sons, What wonder if groans be lurking From her smiling air apart. And if bitter thoughts keep working In her tired and homeless heart 1 Bat the party at last is ended, And the day's long taskwork o'er, To her little room she has wended. On the cheerless " upper floor;" And then what wonder if, falling By the couch so lowly there, 'Her soul, with its thoughts to gilling. Should refuge find in prayer ? But the swift-paced mubic which lately So fretted her frame and mind, Seems to breathe now, solemn and stately, Like an organ's voice reaigreJ, It whispers so softly and slowly, So sacred and sweet it seemp. That at last, with a patience holy, The governess seeks her dreams. X. Y. Ledger. The Prodigal Boy. . t i i , . . vsiie nan autumnal atternoon as a country gentleman, named Louis Dwight, was out for an hour's ride in his vehicle, he came upon a group of urchins sporting in the road, and among mem saw nis son, a Doy ol ten, flying his kite. The novel thought struck him of giving his son a ride, while still flying hia kite, and so by his desire the child took the seat by his side, the horse trotted on, and the kite-string, through the back of the wagon, still held by the pleased youngster, main tained the traveling kite in the air. It was, however, not long before the boy lost his hold of the stick, upon which the kite rapidly descended from its gay - attitude, and disappearing behind some trees, fell into a swamp beyond. To regain what was so much prized by his son, if possible, without too much effort, the father drove back, and now saw that one of the group of chil dren had already started in pursuit of the missing toy, and was wending his difficult course through the swamp, frm which in due time he made his way back, with a shout of joy, bring ing the unharmed kite and its roll of twine, which on reaching the road, he presented with smiling grace to their owner. "You are a gallant and unselfish boy," said Mr. Dwight, giving him a handful of pence: ' what is your name?" " Herbert Archley," said the youth, blushing at the compliment and lifting his cap in recognition of it; and then, turning to his playmates, he divided among them what he had received by tossing the coins into the air and say ing : " Come, boys, here's for a scram ble !" His companions proved themselves not slow to accept the offer, and young Archley, sharing in the scramble with high glee, took his scant portion with the others. " You are too generous by half," ex claimed Mr. Dwight, admiring the boy's benevolence quite as much as his good-natured service and politeness. You must learn to be more careful of jpur means when you grow older, at least; or you will find it a thankless and very rude world to live in." . "Ah, sir," said the boy, with a brighter glance even than before, and again doffing his cap, " father taught me never to be mean, and to be unsel fish always makes me feel happy." His looks told the truth as eloquently as his words and tone, as he stood kj there in the road, his fine, open, hand some face rosy with health and beam ing with intelligence and joy a far more beautiful object to contemplate than even the declining sun, whose light .displayed him to such advantage. "The bub is lengthening your shadow, my boy," said the gentleman, reflteting for a moment. " And even so it is with the light of experience, which in creases the shade of sorrow the longer it shines. Take my advice, my boy, and hereafter never give all your spare money away. Be liberal, as your father taught you ; but save at least half for yourself. There is no virtue in being prodigal; often it is au error, and prevents both the power to be just and to be generous." " I thank you, sir, for the advice, and 7 will remember and try to fol low it." " Good afternoon, my boy !" " Good-bye, sir." As they rode home, which was not far from the neighborhood, Mr. Dwight learned from his son that Herbert Arch ley was a poor boy, living with his widowed mother; that he was a forward scholar, and so generally a favorite that presents were often made to him, and these he almost as often dis tributed among his comrades, between whom he seemed to make but little dis tinction. Within a few days Mr. Dwight again met young Archley, and repeating his injunction to ' save half at least," gave him a money-box for that pur pose. And the boy, smiling, again promised, and, applauded by his mother, did as he had been advised, careless and thoughtless of how it ac cumulated, from month to month. The gentleman who had been so interested in him often gave him small sums, like others, though debarred, like others. from rendering his mother assistance which an honest pride forbade her to accept, and of which health and in dustry prevented her from being in absolute need. A year passed, and, chancing to be in the company of evil associates, Arch ley got into trouble with them. They committed some theft, in which he did not share, and of which he was igno rant until he was arrested, like them. and tried as their accomplice. Infor m ation of the affair being brought to Mr. Dwight, he felt convinced of the boy's innocence, and after questioning him undertook to plead his case; which influence, however, only suc ceeded so far against the false testi mony of the really guilty that Archley was fined for trespass while the others were more severely dealt with. The shame of the accusation seemed to overcome the grieved boy far more than the fear of punishment, however unjust; and he wept more bitterly than the young reprobates who had thought to make him share their punishment as well as their disgrace. "You need not shed tears, my boy,' said his temporary protector, soothing ly, so that all could hear. " None who know you can think harm of you. The best are often injured by false evidence beyond their power of defense against law; and in this case, the penalty it prescribes for you I believe you can pay, without depending upon anybody but yourself. " My mother is so poor, sobbed the boy, " that I don't like her to pay so much; and how can 1 pay it i " Y hat have you done with the box?" " Oh, I forgot that;bnt I don't think there can be much in it, for the little I have saved up in it." " Send for it, and we will see about that." The little box was therefore brought and opened in court, and, much to the surprise of the boy, far more was found in it than was demanded to meet the penalty. This discovery cheered young Archley, for he was now relieved from his mortification at dependency by being able to pay his fine with his own money, which he did with some pride; and, with his mother, his friend and his box, he marched out of court amid the cheers of his joyous playmates. " You see, my young friend, that by being provident, without being mean. you have been able to rescue yourself from difficulty," said Mr. Dwight, on parting with them. Bear the lesson in mind, in future, as well as you have kept your promise, and you will find it of service throughout your life, long after I- am dead, perhaps. There is more than the amount you have paid. I wished you to send for the box, only the better to illustrate what virtue there is in providence, and how thought less prodigality might have left you without one friend to serve you." The lesson thus learned had a doubly good effect, and the boy was more care ful as to the character of his com panions ever after. 1 he manilold changes of a few more years, transformed the boy into a man, involving otner alterations in the con dition of his life. His mother slept in the grave; his good friend, Mr. Dwight, had moved away, he knew not whither; and he, in a neighboring town, no less popular as a man than he had been as a boy, had, by dint ot intelligent enter prise, acquired a thriving business, of which he was the head. Fortune long seemed to favor the young man, and otten the image and counsel of his early good adviser came up before him, and the pleasant re membrance made him yearn to see him But, unfortunately, the advice which he remembered he did not follow. His benevolence and confiding nature, his eagerness to oblige, and his impulsive sympathy at every signal of distress. became known to all around him, and by slow and sure degrees the unstinted exercise of his uncalculating charity annulled the good results of his honest industry, and carried his affairs grad ually into the background, where prod igal generosity often leads and leaves a man, and where debt incurred by help ing others bring distress and ruin upon the deserted banKrupt. Herbert Archley failed, and found few friends to praise, pity him, or de fend his honesty of purpose, and none who were able or dared to help him To him came now the old experiences of the too benevolent, who have less means to sustain than heart to prompt generous actions; and though fortune did not so utterly forsake him as to con sign the well-meaning debtor to a jail, his freedom to wander seemed no lib erty to him, who, as he left the town, a poor and censured man, could not leave its recollections also behind. The imprisoned thought was itself imprisonment, as, when far away, he brooded, in poverty, over, his follies and misfortunes. " Were not ever thoughtful step we take in this world thronged with proofs of our insignificance and ignorance, we might dare attempt to grasp at and ar raign the wisdom of the Almighty," he reflected as he mourned. " Yet, in what light I have, it sometimes seems unjust that charity should be the cause of its own punishment, or be per mitted at all to suffer. But, now, how well I recollect the counsel given me by that good man in. my youth to be kind, without giving all away, and that one might be provident without being mean. He gave me a fatherly lesson in those happy days, and I was wiser, because more mindful, even then; but grown confident by success, I neglected the advice which would have spared me the trials I now bear; the los3 of good repute and the ingratitude of the undeserving, for whom I have injured the worthy; and the tongue of scandal, for inability, which is miscalled dis honesty, oppresses me more even than the lack of means, with which, if not thrown away in acts of mistaken be nevolence, I would gladly repay all But yet, to sit down thus and meanly mourn, like Job, will never lift me u again. There must still be time and opportunities to redeem myself. I am still young and strong, and may yet prove wiser, if 1 faithfully follow the counsel of him who understood me well in my boyhood. Henceforth will do so. I will strive hard again and the lesson of the little box shall be my guide as I toil." Animated by the resolution he had formed, half the load which had op pressed him vanished. Among strangers he entered anew into the mazes of business, and though his melancholy memories sometimes made his strug gles less energetic than he wished their discouraging effect was more than offset by the great object he had in view the ultimate power to clear his reputation at home from all stain. Stray gleams of success- multiplied and gathered, as he proceeded slowly but steadily toward the horizon of his hopes, and at last ripened into the in spiring dawn. Often, while the night of his distress was vanishing behind him, the old prodigal impulse which had caused it would return upon him but he checked it by the memory of the little box; and while not mindless of the claims of those who were more needy than he, he learned to feel that there was yet sometning nomer man extravagant benevolence; to be just first and then generous, and that beside what was due to his creditors, there was much due to himself. By this line of conduct he rose again to substantial prosperity. Experience had not been wasted upon him, and his second ordeal was triumphant. The memory of the little box was a talis- manic guide to him. One-half of all his profits he uniformly put by for fu ture days; and freed from all former indebtedness, he found himself, in the prime of life, not merely commended for being generous as well as honest, but secure against the wiles and wails of impostors, and wealthy without hav ing been a miser. Thus enabled, by a courageous ad herence to the provident rule which was at first repugnant to his nature in joy and honor to the town which he had lett in disgrace, ne revisited me scenes of his youth, and as he wandered among them and revived their associa tions, he thanked uod that he was now as happy as he had ever been when he played there. The old cottage was torn down, but tne grass grew green over the graves of his parents, and he felt that their souls were in a change less home. The natural landmarks re mained unaltered, and as he strolled along the chief road of the village, he paused awhile at the spot where, re turning from the swamp with the kite. he first met the good man man, Louis Dwight. " He must be quite old now if alive," mused he. Let me see; I was then ten, and he, perhaps, forty my own age now. Three score and ten the alioted age of man. He may be dead; or if not, I suppose I shall never see or hear of him again. How like a dream it all seems ! Here I am stand ing alive. Here is where he gave me the pence, opposite that very tree; and here is wny. bless me, who comes here ? If this isn't the old gentleman himself, my eyes or my memory fail me. It was a bowed old man, in worn and faded garments, who was approaching, walking slowly, with a cane. Archley raised his hat respectfully as he drew near. He had truly recognized him It was Louis Dwight. But his old friend and adviser did not recognize him so quickly, though he paused and returned his saluta tion. " His sight may be poor," thought Archley; " but I will test his memory bv a surer method. Old gentleman was born in this village, and have been absent many years. I have been stand ing here for some time, looking upon the scenes which are more interesting now than they were when I played here, thirty years ago, " Thirty years ago !" exclaimed old Mr. Dwight, staring at him. " Why, I used to live here then. " Did you, indeed ? Then perhaps you might be able to tell me what be came of a very fine gentleman who lived here at the same time, but went away before I did. He was out riding one day, and I saved a kite for his son; and on this very spot he gave me some pence for it, and some very good ad vice into the bargain. His name was Louis Dwight." " And yours is !" " Herbert Archley." "Why," cried the astonished old gentleman, holding up his hands to heaven; "merciful Providence! is this you, my dear young friend ? Let me give you-a good hug!'' And faltering toward him, he gave him an embrace which was returned with interest, and then, in brief, they exchanged histo ries that of Mr. Dwight being far more melancholy than Archley's. His son was dead, his property all gone, and he was now a dependent upon charity, where once he had lived in affluence. Archley heard in silence, with tears; but he brightened them with a smile as he said : Mr. Dwight, I believe that God has ordered that we should meet this day, and we meet, sir, never to part until one of us is dead. Ion are now poor, but 1 am rich. All mat 1 possess I owe to your early lessons to me. I will protect and comfort you while life lasts, and repair your losses as well as I can." And here Herbert Archley proved true to his word; and thus it was that good advice, in kindness given and with reverence obeyed, resulted in a rich reward to both. The bread of wisdom had been early cast upon the waters, and it returned "after many days," - in the shape of substantial I gratitude." The Latest Snake Story. Two of the pioneers of Colorado hap pened to meet in Denver yesterday, and the conversation turned on early expe riences and adventures. The story that produced the most thrilling effect upon the auditors was a snake story, and as both parties vouched for the truth thereof, it would be highly indecorous for a Newt reporter to suggest any doubt as to its literal correctness. And thus the story was told by the "major:" " Jim and I started out in the mount ains early one morning after black tailed deer. We had no luck up to noon, and then found ourselves on the side of a precipitous mountain. The trail was wide and plain, and we soon came to a spring that had burst its way out of the solid rock. Here we both stopped to get a drink. I used the cup first and then , handed it to Jim. lie drank, and then stepped off sideways to take a look down the side of the mountain and in the valley. As he stood thus his shoulders reached to level with a shelf of the rock which projected forward some little distance over the trail. As i rose up irom the spring something attracted my atten tion to this rocky shelf, which was only a few inches from Jim s neck, and ex actly on a level therewith. To my hor ror I saw thereon an 'immense rattle snake. The horrible reptile 'was all coiled, his eyes were snapping, his forked tongue protruding, and every thing indicating an immediate spring. Jim stood perfectly stolid and utterly unconscious of the slightest danger, Any motion on his part, even the slight est. I knew would be instantly fatal. What to do I could not think. 1 dared not call or shoot. Everything depended upon his remaining perfectly still. Af ter a second's further reflection (and the time seemed an age) I dropped softly down so as not to be out of sight of the reptile. 1 then moved iiKe shadow toward my unconscious friend Breathlessly I watched him from fear that every second he would make some slight movement of head or body, and any motion I knew meant death. Soon I was near enough to feel mat 1 could get a firm hold. Without another thought or the slightest word or warn ing 1 then grasped Jim by the arm and side and bronght him heavily down with a crash npon the trail and among the flinty rocks. As I did this I saw what seemed a flash of lightning dart out from the rocky shelf, which I knew to be the stroke of the reptile. But my friend's neck was not where the snake had hopod. and Jim was safe." And what did J lm say when you slung him down in that style ?" asked one of his auditors. " He commenced cursing me in the meanest sort of way," replied the ma jor, " till X made him stand up and look at that shelf in the rocic. W hen he saw that, and the snakes as well, and saw. too, how near ne nad been to horrible death, he turned around and took my hand, but he didn't say any thing more, because he couldn't speak.' Danbury News. How a Toad Undresses. A gentleman sends to an agricultural paper an amusing description of " How a Toad takes on nia uoat and Jf ants. He says he has seen one do it, and friend has seen another do the same thing in the same way : " About the middle of J uly I found a toad on a hill of melons, and not wanting him to leave I hoed around him. He appeared sluggish and not inclined to move. Presently I observed him pressing his elbows against his sides and rubbing downward. He ap peared so singular that I watched to see what he was up to. After a few smart rubs his skin began to burst open straight along his back. .Now, said 1, old fellow, you have done it ; but he appeared to be unconcerned, and kept on rubbing until he had worked an his skin into folds on his sides and hips then grasping one hind leg with both hands, he hauled off one leg of his pants the same as anybody would, then stripped the other hind leg in the same way. He then took his cast-off cuticle forward between his fore legs into his mouth and swallowed it; then, by rais ing and lowering his head, swallowing as his head came down, he stripped of? the skin underneath until it came to his fore legs, and then grasping one of these with the opposite hand, by con siderable pulling, stripped off the skin; changing hands, he stripped the other, and by a slight motion of the head, and all the while swallowing, he drew it from the neck and swallowed the whole The operation seemed an agreeable one and occupied but a short time. A ConD Dinner. Says a Siberian traveler: Our dinnerparty was extreme ly merry. Each one laid his stores un der contribution. Some brought out frozen bread, others frozen cavaire, others frozen preserves, others again sausages which could not be bent even if put across the knee and pulled with the strength of both arms. (Jan you imagine, without laughing, the appear ance presented of seven half-famished people sitting at a table with thirty dif ferent dishes before them, and unable to touch one, except at the risk of break ing their teeth. Nothing could be done, except to wait patiently for the various dishes to be thawed by sitting on them. At the close of the dinner we ate excel lent fruit, which had been kept frozen. Throughout Siberia, as soon as very cold weather sets in, all fruits are placed out of doors, with a northern exposure, that the sun may never touch them. They are frozen through and through, and retain their flavor as com pletely as if they had just been plucked from the tree. New York Post: It is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a nee dle than it is for a young woman in a fur-lined silk cloak to walk along with out lettiog it flap open just a little to show that the fur is more than mere border. Garibaldi in Rome. Since the days of Bienzi Borne has witnessed no more touching spectacle than the arrival from Caprera of the wasted form of Garibaldi. His ene mies doubtless will allege that some thing like a theatrical intention under lay the reception, but in making the allegation they will only show that they know that neither the man nor the country with which his name will for ever be associated. People are asking what is the object of his going thither. The Italians have everything they ever desired in the shape of unity, liberty, and independence. The once resound ing cry of " Furori i barbari" has long since been answered, and no foreigner rules a single rood of truly Italian soil. Tuscany is as free as Piedmont, and Venice shares the fortune of the Two Siciles. A Pope still dwells in the Va tican, but he does not own, beyond its precinct, an acre of Italian soil. Me has eeased to be a temporal lord. Italy is one of the great powers, and sat with its fellows at the Congress of Berlin. A few months ago some scatterbrained fanatics raised the ridiculous cry of " Italia Irredento 1" but it - has long since died away; and even if it still lin gers in the mouths of a few incurable agitators, it is incredible that it should be adopted by Garibaldi in his declin ing years. From the first mention of the so-called New Guinea project many persons declared that its name was only a bund, and that the Garabaldian party are meditating a descent on a large scale on the coast of Macedonia. We can not say how this may be, but should the suspicion turn out to be well founded, Europejwill look to the Italian Government to frustrate what would be a conspiracy against the gen eral peace. The fact that he enjoyed the countenance of Garibaldi ought, of course, in no degree to shake the de termination of the authorities. The expedition, if projected, will have to be ruthlessly stopped; and should Gar ibaldi protest he would have to be re minded that, though he is a most il lustrious and highly honored citizen, he is only a private person, and must defer to the laws as completely and ab solutely as any other Italian subject. We will not, however, believe, with out good evidence, that the illustrious invalid intends to irritate and scandalize some of his most sincere admirers, by lending himself te an act of unwarrant able piracy. His name is a precious possession to modern sentiment, which would regret to see it overclouded by fresh errors. If he had fallen, a sword in hand, at juentana, it might nave been said of him that he was felix op portunitate mortis. He was denied that good fortune, and he has brokenly lived on in a world which seems to have got beyond him. His faith would have assured him that Borne would be come the capital of Italy, and the cry of " Boma o Morte !" would have been rendered yet mere memorable. La mennals used to say that no life had its full complement of heroism that did not close on the scaffold or battlefield. Garibaldi apparently will have to be content with the set gray life. He will love Italy to the last, but he should love her wisely no less than well; Italy, like himself, wants rest. It is said by some that Garibaldi, feeling that his life will not be of much longer dura tion, would fain die in Borne. It is a sweet and holy wish, which every brave man will reverence. London. Standard. The "People's" Tribute to Beacons field. The gold laurel wreath intended for presentation to the Earl ef Beaconsfield as the people s tribute to the premier may now be seen, by ticket of invita tion, at Messrs. Hunt & Boskell's, 156 New Bond street. Mr. Tracy Turne relli, with whom the idea of presenting this wreath originated, wished it to be entirely the gift of working men and women throughout the United King dom, and the amount of each person's subscription was limited to Id. The wreath, which has been execuied by Messrs. Hunt s Koskeli at oost price, is valued at 220, and it will, theretore, represent the contributions of 52,800 persons. As the wreath lies on its deep crimson colored velvet cushion, it is an exceedingly beautiful object. Four branchlets of bay twisted in pairs are fastened to the thicker ends by a gol den tie. Every leaf, each stAm, stalk, and berry is a carefully studied imita tion of the part it represents, and the faces and under sides of the leaves be ing veined and worked over with a fine- pointed tool, so as to produce the ap pearance of the pores, the play of light and shade on surfaces so varied is very great. The models were specimens of the laurus no bits, the sweet smelling bay used by the Bomans for the corona lau- rea. The wreatn weighs ramer more man twenty ounces, and the gold used is twenty-two carat of the same fineness as a sovereign, only tne alloy in tne wreath is silver instead of copper, There are forty-six leaves, and on the back of each may be seen, on turning over the wreath, the names, one, two, or three on eaoh leaf, of the eighty towns in the United Kingdom that have sent contributions. London 1 tmes. A Fish With Feet. Mrs. E. W. Harris, captured a day or two ago, in a branch near (Jooper s well, a most curi ous specimen ot nsn species, ac about two inches in length,, and has aflat head like a cattish, but just at the point where it appears to join with the body on each side is a feathery pro jection resembling diminutive wings. Under the body there are ieur feet formed, as it seems to the naked eye, of four cartilageous membranes. Placed in a dish of water, it crawls upon the bottom, but when stirred swims rapidly around like the ordinary fish. Deep pink linea extended down the body on both sides and also under the belly. Bread Making-. The following letter from Mrs. Con rad Wilson furnishes instruction for making the wheat and corn bread, sam ples of which were recently on exhibi tion at the first annual fair of the far mers' clubs, recently held in Boston In making wheat bread 1 set my sponge in the morning as early as pos sible, using half a cake of eompressed yeast to about seven pounds of flour. Make a stiff batter of about one pound of flour with the water quite warm When light I mix my bread immedi ately, for if left too long the sponge falls and the bread is not so good. Use salt to suit, and warm water to mix with until quite stiff. When the dough is light mould it into loaves and set to rise again in a warm place, until light, and bake from one half to three quarters of an hour in a good oven, as that has much to do with good bread. For corn bread take one cup of wheat flour and two cups of corn meal. I use the whites of two eggs, one-third cup either sugar or molasses, two teaspoon- fuls melted lard or butter, two table spoonfuls cream of tartar, sifted with the flour, one teaspoonful soda, dis solved in warm water: mix with sweet milk to a stiff batter. American Culti va tor. - What to Do Wheic Poisoned. Free draughts of sweet oil are said to counteract any poison; but the follow ing specific should be as well known as coffee for laudanum, and spirits for rep tile bites. - 1 he best antidote for arsenic poison is a chemical substance called hydrated peroxide of iron, freshly prepared. which can only be obtained of a drug gist. But do not wait for this. While it is being sent for. and at the first mo ment after discovering that arsenic has been taken, pour down dose after dose of water slightly warmed, promoting vomiting by thrusting the finger or a feather down the throat. Seep up this until the stomach has been laterally washed out at least a dozen times. A friend of ours took a teaspoonful of arsenic in mistake for cream of tartar, but discovering his error soon after, he ran to a stove and drank all he could of lukewarm dish water, throwing it up as fast as he took it, in this way swallowed and vomited half n pailful of water. He recovered without any other remedy. This treatment is good for most kinds of poison if adopted soon enough. Scientific American Careless Wives. It is very com mon to hear the remark made of a young man that he is so industrious and so economical that he is sure to be thrifty and prosperous. And this may be very true of him so long as he remains sin gle. But what will his habitual pru dence avail him against the careless waste and extravagance of an uncalcu lating, unthinking wife ? He might as well be doomed to spend his strength and life in an attempt to catch water in a sieve. 1 he effort would be hardly less certainly in vain. Habits of economy, the ways to turn everything in the household affairs to the best account these are among tlie things which every mother should teach her dangnters. Without such instruction, those who are poor will never become rich, while those who are now rich may become poor. Peach Mabjialade. Take ripe free stone peaches. Pare, stone and quar ter them: to a pound of fruit allow three-quarters of loaf sugar and half an ounce of almonds. Blanch the almonds in scalding water, and pound them un til smooth. Scald the peaches in a very little warm water; mash them; mix them with the sugar and almonds, and put the whole into a preserving kettle. Boil it to a thick, smooth paste. Skim and stir it well, and keep the kettle cov ered as much as possible. Fifteen minutes will be sufficient to boil them. When cold, put up in glass jars. To Die Straw Hats Bbown. For one dozen, take one ponnd of soda, dis solved in boiling water, and let them lie in this until they turn a dark yel low, then lift, and in another vessel dissolve four ounces of green copperas in boiling water; let them lie in this I from ten to fifteen minutes, handling them all the time: take them out, and give them a warm water bath, and they are finished, the chemical action of soda or copperas producing either light or dark results, as required Tomato Pickles. Slice green to matoes, sprinkle one cup of salt over them, let them stand all night, boil them in two quarts of water and one auart of vinegar twenty minutes, drain through a sieve. Take two quarts of vinegar, two pounds of brown sugar, quarter ot a pound of white mustard I seed, two tablespoonfuls of ground I mustard, allspice, cloves, ginger, cinna- mon. and one teaspoonful of red pep- per; put all this together and cook live minutes, Do not let knives be dropped into hot water. It is a good plan to have a large tin pot to wash ia, just high enough to wash the blades without wet ting the handles. Keep your castors covered with blotting paper and green flannel. Keep your salt spoons out of the salt, and clean them often. Pulverized alum possesses the prop erty of purifying water. A large spoonful stirred into a hogshead of water will so purify it that in a few hours the dirt will all sink to the bot tom, and it will be fresh and clear as spring water. Four gallons may be purified by a teaspoonful. Dbting Sweet Cokn. Take it while it is young and tender, strip off the husk all but a little to hang it up. Hang it where it will dry quickly. You can cook it on the cob or hull it off, just as you like. Crockery with gilt bands or flowers should not be wiped. It should be washed quickly, rinsed and drained un til dry. Agriculture in the United State. Wheat and animal food being the principal food products exported, let us see bow the amounts raised in Eu rope and America stand to each other. The population of Europe is a boat 300,000,000; that of the United States a little less than 50,000,000. The ratio of Europe to the United States id 6 to 1. Knowing the grain produced, we have this result : Batio Population Wheat per 1mo1 Europe 300,000,000 3H,m 1S6 l.U United 8tates....48,000,000 Stio.Oi.SOO 760 We see at once why we are exporting wheat and flour to Europe. There is five times as much wheat raised in th is country in proportion as there is in Europe. If the people of Europe did not raise a large proportion of oats, po tatoes, vegetables, it is plain there would be an immense deficit in grain food. As it is, there is a large de ficiency in the supply of wheat, amounting to near 300,000,000 per an num. Of the wheat raised in Europe, one-third is raised in Bnssia, and hence from Odessa, and the southern ports of Bussia, a large amount of wheat is shipped to England, France, and Ger mny. A good deal of wheat is shipped from Egypt and Turkey. Still, it is palpable that if Europe is to have any tolerable supply of wheat, the United States must furnish a large part of the deficiency. In the year 1878 w ex ported (including flour) 125,000,000 bushels wheat, and it is probable we shall export more this year. Ia look ing into the condition of Europe we see nothing to encourage the idea that the people there will raise a larger pro portion of grain. There is a constant tendency there, as there is in this country, to increase the civio and arti san population. Berlin and the cities of Germany. Paris and the cities of t?m r.i.il i.. I!,,!, .n,na i i o r.rt 5E especially the northern part, which is incapable of raising large crops of grain. Then some of the best parts of Europe, such as the Turkish and Grecian territories, are so badly governed and kept in such com motion that they do not produce near as much as they might. On the whole, it is quite evident that Europe will con tinue to demand graiu of us. Indian corn is now in demand, and list year we exported over 100,000,000 bnshela, If it should be as much liked as pota toes, we may export an immense amount. We shall probably double the export of corn. Intrinsically it is a mack cheaper food than wheat, but the ocst of transportation from the West, where it is chiefly raised, is a great drawback on its exportation. Our main export of corn, however, is in animals. Let us now look at that part of the busi- ness. The animals wiucn produce nearly all of animal food exported are cattle and hogs. The proportions in them between Europe and America, taking the ratio of population as be fore, six to one, are : Ptoportioa .60 tu 1 Cattle Europe 80,000,000 America ..-23,000,000 it oca. EarODe S7.5oo,uO0 .12 to 1 America 25,100,000 oO to 1 We see again that America has double the proportion of animals which there are in Europe. Hence, we also see how our export of animal food has be come so great. Bussia is the only country in Europe which at all ap proaches the United State. In sheep, Europe equals the United States in proportion. Herein our country is at fault. We should raise more eheep. We export none, and we do import large quantities of wool. Looking to the above facts, we may conclude that at present, with present prices, and the large demand for provisions and beef in Europe, stock raising is the most profitable part of our atrrieulture. At thia time the States of Ohio and Illinois are probably in proportion the largest stock raising communities in the world. In 1S70 Ohio had 8.818,000 domestic annual. and Illinois 6,925,000. Beports of the last two years seem to show that Illi nois may now have the most. Texas and the Argentine Bepublio (South America) having an immense number of cattle, may have in proportion to the number of people a larger number of cattle. But there are no pop ulous communities anwhere equal in this respect to Ohio, and none in Europe. In 1870 the following were the proportions between some States of this country and Europe : In Oluo, to eacu penton In Illinois, 3.7 In New York, In Peunsjlv'a, ,1.1 .X44 .4-1) .1 W .1.11 In Gt Britain, In Russia, In France, ' In Germany, it will be seen that the proportion in Great Britain is only two-thirds; ia France, only one-half: and ia Ger- many.-only one-third. It is true tnat m the course ox civilization me numoer of animals diminishes with the density of population. While this would ap ply to Southern Europe, it will not ap ply to Bussia or to North Germany. Bussia in Europe has more than half the density of population as Ohio. Corr. Cincinnati uazette. As the coat of a horse begins to loosen, the skin is often irritable. Thia may be corrected by giving in the food daily one ounce of an equal mixture of sulphur and cream of tartar for a few days. Good grooming with a soft brush and a blunt currycomb should not be neglected. If the gums are swollen, rub them with a corncob dipped in powdered borax. One hundred English farmers go into bankruptcy every week on account of the importation into England of American beef, says a high Euglish au thority. Doubted. In puichasing fruit trees, see that the roots are not too closely trimmed. Large tap roots should be particularly intact. 1