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THE GRENADA GAZETTE.
LADD A PITV| l l«lMM4 Msaaftn. GRENADA« mss. GRANDPA ON GENIUSES. Now, folks may talk agin the tribe, An' say they're all a mighty shtriest An" low-down set—an' I'll allow That they are sorter kinder thrif'less; But tbo' he aint got so much sense As some, aint got much go or grit or Git-up-an'-git, a genius is . A mighty interestin' critter. We bad one on t down our way A spell ago. He was a poet— Leastways folks said so—though I gwow 1 never seen a thing to show it! Be was a simple sorter stick; An' though he made the gals all titter, Somehow I kinder liked the fool, 'us critter. An' studied up the He liked it on the farm, an' tuk A powerful Interest in the flocks an' Herds, on' uster, so Sal says, Write lays to hens and odes to oxen, (Though what he owed 'em 1 can't see) ; She read era when she swept the litter. An', though I liked him, Sal she said He really warn't a Christian critter. He warn t so smart as some, perhaps; The boys all thought him chicken-hearted Because he was so gentle like, But once they got his dander started— The time they skinned the cat alive; He walked right in, wal, I should twitter! An' just missed skinnm' them alive, The queer and contradictious critter. He never did a stroke o' work, O, but he was almighty lazy ! He just ud Paper enough to drive you crazy; We'd hear him talkin' to himself, his great big eye-balls glitter, Hut nothin' ever came of it— * A genius is a harmless critter. ' write an' spilo An' f What's that you say? He's writ a book? An' sold it, too? Wal, now, I never! Au' jroin' to make his fortune, sure? Wal. dura It. now ! But did you ever? if Sal'd had sense they might a hitched. But then somehow he never hit her; An' who in thunder'd ever think A genius such a likely critter! —Hoston Ulobt. HIS MATCH. What Was Accomplished by a Plucky Little Step-Mother. Everybody said that Orphies French was crazy to think of marrying Hector Hunter. In the first place ho was too old. (He was thirty-five and Orphies only eighteen.) In the next he was a widower with four children. (Orphies, being an only child, was unused to children.) And lastly, he was the «rossest-grained, most miserly man that ever existed. Every ono in Hillwood knew him. They knew he had been the means of liis first wife's finding an early grave; and now ho wanted to break Miss French's heart; pretty, dimpled, brown eyed Orphies the pride of the village, mid the admiration of all. How she came to choose a surly, sel fish man like Hector Hunter was a Wonder to everybody. It was well known that- blue-eyed, sunny-faced Charlie Chester stood ready to lay down his life for her sake, and that James Singleton had offered himself to her at least three times. Either would have been considered a good match, and yet it was quito evi dent that Hector Hunter was the man she loved, and s#c had been known to watch beside him day and night when lie was ill, and refuse all food till she was sure he was out of danger. Yes. Miss French did love him. She tgod to him, too, and that sun Was ( By morning in June was to witness her bridal. She was to be married in the little church where she had been bap tized, in the presence of those who had known and loved her from a child. So what was really nobody's busi ness was everybody's business, and proved the topic of conversation throughout the entire village. All her girl friends pitied lier; all her male ac quaintances envied Hector Hunter. All the matrons bewailed her fate; all the sires hinted that the bridegroom was a lucky man. Finally came the organ peals, then the solemn service—for it was solemn —and then pretty Orphies went down the aisle leaning on the arm of her sour-Vooking husband as smilingly as If her path were strewn with roses and her future ns clear as a lake at even when the glory of the setting sun rests upon its placid bosom. "1 can't afford to take a wedding trip, Orphies," Mr. Hunter hiul said the night he slipped the engagement ring on her finger, and listened to the shy "yes" whispered under the tree that grew back of her home. "It costs a good deal to live nowa days. The children need clothes, and 'twill take a five-dollar bill right out of my pocket to pay the minister. You won't care, will you? You had just as settle down ns a sensible woman, Boon hadn't von? That is the way my first wife did. And Orphies said "yes, she'd do any like the dear little thing he liked, thing she was. So as soon as her gray-haired pastor hud made her Mrs. Hector Hunter, she walked quietly across the village com mon to the large, gloomy-looking bouse built on its edge, and closed the •door in the faces of those looking after her with a world of commiseration in their eyes. "She'll regret this act of hern, or niv is not Mirinda Highflyer," said narrow-minded spinster to an name one other. "She'll look like a wlltod rose by the time she lias lived three weeks witli tlioso fihildren," said Miss Dean, the village dressmaker, to her customor, MrsFliut. "I know all about them. I once made • dress for the first Mrs. Hunter, and J had a chance to see somo of their ac tions." We'vo lost our pretty Orphies for said gray-haired Fanner Slo •Rude hand* have picked our and, well. ever, cum, sweet-briar rose and there is none other so fair." night, to bring had had those "We arc going to have Orphies French for a step-mother," said the Hunter children, pressing up to the window which commanded a view of Hiilswood common and church. "She's awful pretty, but it's a mystery how she came to marry father." "You know the young folks so well, Orphies, that there is no need of an in troduction," said Mr. Hunter, as his young bride kissed one rosy face after another, and sat down in his dead wife's rocking chair with the youngest ma on her knee. "When we are rested we will go over the house and take a look at things, then we will have some dinner. I dis missed the housekeeper to-day, as I knew we would not need her after you came. Her month was up, and as a pen ny saved is a penny earned, I let her go. Rosa Bell is large enough to help you about the house. She is sixteen, and as tall as you are. I guess you will pull together first rate." Pretty Orphies looked at her step daughter questioningly. "1 hope so," she said, quickly. "Yes," kissing her, "I am quite sure that we shall." That kiss won Rosa Bell. "Arthur," she said to her twelve year-old brother, the moment the door closed behind her new mother, "take heart I do believe there is a change coining. The second Mrs. Hunter is very sweet and smiling, but I should not be surprised if father had found his match. She doesn't say a great deal, but there is a look in her eye which makes mo feci funny." "He'll tame her before long," answered Arthur, with a knowing shake of his head. "She'll have to knock under the same as the rest of us. I wonder if he'll let me go out on the common to-night? The boys are get ting up â base ball match. Tom Jones was here this morning, and made me promise I'd come. The Skinflints are going to play against the Ironsides, but I'll bet on the—" "You mustn't bet at all," interrupted Rosa Bell, tying on her apron and bustling about the poorly spread table in the room adjoining. "This is father's wedding day, and it isn't at all likely he'll let you go off. Come, Kathie, peel those potatoes for me. Then set the chairs up, and tell the folks dinner is ready. I wish I had something better to offer her," she added, looking ruefully at the platter of fried pork in the center of the table, flanked on either side with a dish of apple sauce and a huge loaf of wheat bread. "I wish we had silver forks and glass goblets, like Hattie Andrews' folks," said Kathie, hurriedly removing their brown jackets, anil tumbling them into the blue earthen dish which Lettie brought from the closet "Weil, if Mrs. Hunter is as hungry as I am, she won't think of any thing but dinner," exclaimed Arthur, bringing Up the chairs with a good deal of aoise. "That apple-sauce is scorched, Rosa Bell; I smell it. Father wwn't relish that." "Well, I can't help it," answered the girl, in a discouraged tone, "lie »dn't have sent Martha off just at this time." was said, head. with all That as and his and out lier, look but tion no did, just had and ing ho a a to \ said a plcns the tin* behind lier, and Orphies stepped into her seat at the head of the table. She had ennngocl her wedding dress for a simple calico, ami a white apron was tied about her trim waist "Mar ant voice a as as tha was getting old, Rosa Bell, want a younger maid-of-all-work. Never mind the forks, Kathie, I have some better ones in my trunk. Hector, We it strikes no* this dining-room is rather small," looking about the dingy, poor ly-furnished apartment. "It must be enlarged in some way. You must see Dunham about it at once, as it must be attended to before warm weather sets in. Dog days are so trying in Hills wood." » I on of In "My dear Orphies"— -Mr. Hunter turned his severe eye on the dimpled face opposite—"it would cost a mint of money to enlarge this room." "Not so very much," Hunter, composedly, done at home. I think papa said the cost was one hundred ;md fifty dol lars." said Mrs. "We had ours to ny "One hundred and fifty dollars!' cried Mr. Hunter, staring at his young wife as if he thought her crazy. "Why, my dear Orphies, you speak as if money grew on bushes, and could be picked us easily as berries. Besides, I never heard the first Mrs. Hunker complain that this room was close." "Poor thing!" said Orphies, pitying ly, "perhaps she didn't dare to. Wlmt were you saying*, Arthur? A base hall match on tînt common? Why, that's delightful. Don't stay at homo on my account, I beg of you. Go and enjoy yourself while you can? boy I'd go with you, As it is 1 will sit by the window with papa and watch Oh, Hector, 1 forgot to tell W; Of. a he a Were I a in the game. ! Florence Freeman was married think the you yesterday, and who do you bridegroom was? Oh, you would never guess, so I might as well tell you. It was Percy Whitman, and such a dis play as was made. Not at all like our humble union." "Why didn't you take him, then?" growled Mr. Hunter, whose feelings were somewhat "riled" by the proposed change in his house. " at one time, didn't he?" Orphies laughed gleefully. "I didn't want him," she said, had rather have you than a dozen Percy Whitmans." And then, springing up, she threw her arms around her husband s neck, greatly to the children's astonishment, a as Ho wanted you ac •I and, if the truth be told, to h.s own as well. of "We will need some wood for the morning, Hector," said Orphies, that night, as her husband was preparing to change his boots for the comfortable slippers he had commanded Kathie to bring him. She had found so much to do, and had entered so heartily into the duties awaiting her, that her wedding day had passed very much the same as those spent under her father's roof. "Father never chops the wood," ntured Rosa Bell, seeing the look of Mam surprise on her father's face, ma alwavs did it, and when she died I is of is at looked after the kindlings." Orphies gave the batch uf dough she was kneading a vigorous turn. "That isn't a woman's work," she said, with a determined shake of her head. "Come, Arthur, help papa in with the wood, and then we will hear all about the base-ball match. Hurry, Hector, my dear. No, no, Arthur isn't strong enough to cut those great logs. That is your work. He w ill bring it in as f:ist as you get it ready, and baby and I will come and see that you do it properly." Catching the little one in the round, white arms bare to the elbow, and dotted here and there witli patches of flour, Orphies danced out into the woodshed, followed by the grumbling Hector and the amused children. "Didn't I tell you father had found his match?" whispered Rosa Bell to her brother. "He never did this in his life, and yet he doesn't say a word; I'm glad she's come." "If she keeps on the way she has begun, I'll stand a chance of getting out to play once in a while," answered doubting Arthur. "I had just a jolly good time this afternoon, thanks to lier, and if 1 never get another, 1 can look back on that" Orphies had been married a week, when people began to look for open war; but if there was any the young wife kept it to herself. To he sure, life was not all sunshine, but she expected a few rainy days would creep in. She had married Hector Hunter in spite of the reputa tion he bore. Why she had done so no one knew, but probably Orphies did, for in spite of the apparent dreari ness of her lot, she was sunny, sweet tempered and happy in her new home, just as she had been in her old. True to her word, Orphies went to work to enlarge the dining-room. She had painters and carpenters, masons and plumbers, till Mr. Hunter was beside himself with rage, and threat ened to go away if that state of affairs continued. Orphies calmly listened to all his speeches; and when the room was finished to her satisfaction, pulled her easy chair into the most comfortable corner, brought out a new pair of slippers and foot-stool, then presented him with the bill and the most charm ing kiss in the world. Strange to say ho paid the former without a word, and returned the latter with interest Still holding her tight but invisible rein, and atoning for her harsh meas ures by the most loving caresses, Orphies at length succeeded in subdu ing lier unruly steed and getting him to bend to the yoke. But her ideas of improvement did not end with the enlargement of the A two-storv dining-room, added the following spring. The parlor was refurnished and a great piano for Arthur's special use was brought from the city. "My children shall be taught to love tin* i* Imme," said the determined little mother when her husband battle«! against what he called a foolish piece <»f "Rosa Bell is quit«» 1«1 extrav; junce. Young enough to g Tomlinson is partial to her, and I had rather have him feel free to cull where into society. be see be I can have a chance of judging of his to endeavor to meet her on the street corners or at the village post-office. Books and music have an ennobling influence over the young, and 1 had rather have Arthur master of the piano than of the billiard-table. In order to keep our boys and girls we must exert ourselves to please them. Give the husks at home, and they will most assuredly seek the wheat else where." To this speech Mr. Hunter replied in curt but decisive worths. Heg is master of his own childre character th; of the •ssed he i, and as to having his house tilled with compa ny from morning till night, he would not. It was out of the question. He couldn't tiffin'd it. Gas was expensive, and the wear and tear of carpets and furniture was something to be thought my sit tell W; Of. But, after following Rosa Bell about from corner to corner a few evenings, and breaking up a few privat«* inter views with young Tomlinson, after listening to Arthur's boyish bets over a game of billiards, and breaking up Katliie's intimacy with the girls ployed as "cash" i he gave in, and quietly put all respon- ' sibility on his little wife. Though young in years, Orphies was a wise little woman. Never ns much a Blind «& Co.'s store, the It dis our passed her lips. "I told you so Calmly accepting the burden, she car ried it along as she had intended to do when fate gave hor Hector Hunter for a husbaiKh Ami the man whom all the village had feared on account of his crabbrdness said never a Word. Books, music and paintings found as papers, their way into his home, llis house was always open to the young, and the old always welcome to the warmest place beside his hearth. When Rosa Bell's engagement with young Tomlinson became public, and people congratulated him on his enter prising son-in-law. he smiled qui«*tly. When Arthur came horn«* from college you •I ' it h honors, he blushed with loaded pride; and when Kathie received her diploma, and was pronounced capable of taking a high rank as public school teacher, he hugged himself with great w satisfaction. Though always thoughtful and con siderate of his young wife, In* was to never known to acknowledge her su periority by word of mouth. Man-like, J he refused to give her her due, and the i only praise she ever received for her trial and « arc was from the lips of her son Arthur the day he was admitted to the bar. th<* "I tell you, Tomlinson," he said to that interested brother-in-law, "all I am I owe to my plucky little step mother. My father probably meant well, but 1 should never have reached the place I occupy to-day if he had not met his match." —Boston Budget. to so to his of a is IMPORTED COSTUMES. or Stylish Gowns and Short Coats Designed In Paris and London. While there are many novelties of color and many new combinations of shade and hue seen in the French dresses imported for street wear, they are noteworthy as a concession to the simple styles demanded by New York women of fashion. There are still Western trade, which demands more ■ color; but these styles are this season j less bizarre than in former days. The ! cloth dresses which have formed a feat- ' uro of each season's importation f«»r several years are superseded by cash mere, Henrietta cloth and light silken j cloths of soft wool. Gowns uf Henri-j «*tta cloth are shown in all the prevail- j ing cloth colors made up in combina- i tion with the faille Français, bengaline 1 urni moire silks. There are many j gowns of soft wool in Quaker (irai-, j silvery French gray, navy-blue and other dark shades, which are finished ; with trimmings of white islet in as pyramids of fine plaitings j in the skirt, forms the vest, ami is ; used a 9 a piping cord on the basque ! and drapery; in some cases it forms i a the entire underskirt * A stylish gown of navy-blue cash- 1 mere was made with an irregularly j draped skirt. The edge of the under- j skirt and the drapery was stitched with ■ red sewing silk in clusters of five rows, , about a quarter of an inch apart, just | above a two-inch hem. The under skirt of the dross was slashed on either side and displayed fans of cream-white wool with a red selvedge at the bottom, The stylish little house bodice of (his gown was finished fastened at the side under « revers of red selvedge. many gay little gowns, as there are pronounced styles in hats and bonnet imported to meet the Southern and 'lids 1 ith a white vest f the File collar was also formed of this gay selvedge and square buttons of brass set on the revers, in groups of three, completed the bodice. Some exquisite little gowns in mixtures of indistinct figures and in several shades uf wood-brown are made with full cream-white vests, which are helil in a wide cluster of honeycombed shirnngs a few inches below the collar and ät the waist. Iii some cases tin entire underskirt is of cream-white wool, but it is almost covered by the the the side drapery showing only at held from the waist- i inches I •here it i- oftc line to within lifl.ee of the bottom in : culs full clos.' r< shirring«, whence it falls m Braiding fle. for ■hen it cream-white wool with golden browns or Qu:tk"r drab-. or shades allied to br dull blm* Gobelin shades and nav\ him*. Braiding of -il on dead whit cloth i th«* new green shades The short London coats VUS, ! it b i •nolens t'imbin«'«! French grav, gravi-h him* an <»f 1«1 vliich harmonize imported ii with all shades of cloth be the general choice thm summer for s with ordinarv wear; onlv a few g his her an we in jackets of the same material are ported. Many long as well as short coats. •raps are There are raglans with deep capes, that obviate the necessity of sleeve; raglans ith the sleeves and capes coming fro sleeve and showing only in front: ami long plain coats, which reach inches of th«* bottom of tin itliin a fe sually loose in front and close fitting at the hack ami are made of smooth-faced cloths These dress. w raj «s nr ornamented with wide passementern 'iste. he • hands of mrk as He cords or flat Hercules braids ln)r«h*re«l with picot-edged Russia braid, backs of these wraps are usually quite full over tin* tournure and this fullnes is held in various ways—sometimes in shirtings, sometimes in a large mini f standing plaits. Sonn wraps are open at the back, times large pocket-flaps are placed the coat at the back, below tin* si«le little ami other The ! Soin« - up ' was forms. There are many gay for church-going u'casions that •rely drap«* the shoulder«, displaying the rich toilette worn beneath them. These •raps may front with he in Tosea shape—short i long pointed ends in some eases teach ing nearly to the bottom «J tin* dr«*s skirt- ««r in ipes that are fastened down in a point back an«! front at the j waist; car do for all his at merely cover • in capes the shoulders and are straight ou the edge.—xY. F. Tribune. —Amateur actor—"I think I wns great iu that death scene, Charley," Charley—"Yes, indeed, old man. Why, when you fell back and expired and your lif«*less form was carried away tin* applause was fairly deafening. I never saw such a delighted audienc Sun. the and -A'. Y. - A crank in Washington tin* other day demanded the arrest «>f tin* Wcatlu-r Bures Chrifiti'in I'nio staff for dealing in futures TREATMENT OF COLTS. w ph a liquid f Thw * A Why It t»l»oul<l lie inftereiit ¥ ot VVork-llurii'i. Nature furnishes the oung colt lii«'li inexactly [ f the d. J !. adapted to its want a a in to keep up animal heat—casei build up its muscles and bone—oil t« lubricate and cushion its joints, and i av ou t a t to round out its form, dam contains sugar f.r i e-pirati* to The nutriment of this food i- in solution, requiring a very slight amount of di gestion to change it to blood, feeder of the young colt should make th<* change from iho mother's milk a* Tin The of little violent as possible; therefore it is advisable, when that can be done U teach the colt to drink cow's ; i'k at weaning, and giv«* it about four quarts the per day with other feed. The wean ing can be made very graduel by giv ing two quarts of cow s milk with a quart of bran twice per day, and after a little while give a pint of oats, be sides grass. Early-cut and nicely cured hay should be given when grad is gone, and also a few carrots, beets the er. the or turnips. These roots w.ll be an almost perfect substitute for grass. Grain should Ik* ■n in very small er. quantity at first, and not usu- : ally more than two quarts of oats per p day. during the lir.-t winter, prefer food in a semi-liquid state f-*r j the colt, and think that bran and I g ■ cow's milk are much bet ter ban oats i j the first winter. All green food i c I ! much more easily digested than dried. : ' and, therefore, the roots are an excel «ut addition, and ke.-p th- stomach and all the secretions in a healthy con j dition. It is alwavs f «und that : healthy, well-forme«! colt makes fine I j progress when the d m vie! i supply of milk. Th<* in t«»'Jig. 1 should try to imitate nature, and fo j nish an abundant supply of food to tie j colt, containing the same elements I as soluble condition tt- possible .-< ; that this fine growth which the c•.!* j not be lost, but continued undiminish ; ed. Very much depends upon the ! first winter. Often an attempt to - • • K i a few dollars in f<'ed has resulted ... the loss of ten times the amount in th« 1 value of the horse grown. One < j no' afterward make up for j deficiency at this period. Libera! ■ feeding and rood care produce a lib , r.il return. The coll should have the | means of exercise in the open air. each day, and its stall or stable sh have a drv dirt 11 ding. Plank floors cause of Tribune.. B it w. 1 • r «• it fee I 1 made upon the milk « f the dam shun 1 } 11 ; :i ; old ! r with good bed- | are the fruitful bad feet. — Mm neap . WOMAN'S HARD WORK. So not Hard, Indeed, Th Any Kind I- renn it ted. Neilhcr in civilized, semi-civiliz* d nor savage nations do women g proper relaxation and rest. The sav ages make « f their women creature' : comparable to beasts of burden. Hu j C« manche warrior tak - better car- 1 « f | his horse than he «l«*es of his wife. The Turk or the Arab citlu-r locks her 1 up as a prisoner or makes her a -lav. to minister at once to his appetite ami , his wants. In many countries the wife does It I« all the drudgery i household, of tin 1». ■-►id' - ft part I drudgery of the shop, the mine There are Europeai hold 1 i whirl •here the sturdy yeoman thinks i: v!l enough to v k" his f.* and Id- : < ■bile lie trots *o\v I«) tin* plow , tentedlv behind the hand!. -! nbghto .cii a :d republican Ev« in ! France it is omen 'oninum sight t<> till hau! i b i ig mai !" i Inch tli" cart. ft ..a w sells the fruits and ve 111 this goodly , pockets the proceed-! land, indeed, it is s< but « veil here the v r harder ihan k ■thin«* differ«-!!: vornan s v«»rk I I the i an The man employed in the factory he quits woman drops her thread in the mill t The ork si re-t. r pick it up again in the home. ' fanner's wife gets up before day to get the farmer's breakfast and him a-fie Id. His vork is tli.' going down of the sun. lasts all the day. and when the dark ness comes she sits down and pirns her sewing, or her knitting, or her mending, poor. Imr-olf while the good man smokes. This is no fancy picture. It is every-day 1 if«» in of households. And the •oi k soul, to re voary the thousands I! »'ll «' gageil in the higher occup «. lit«-! - ature, the arts, etc., are bourn by no lighter thralldom, have homes and husbands and chil liin — 'f drei). The man of letters si ! up in his « fli<v or Ids «len. and niv - his mind and h - i i 1 r t « - the work in ha ul. 'Vhen 't i- dom- !r rests until another dnv bri igsitswrk. The woman of etters i- lucky, i !«•«• I. if she can concentrate her mi id for her work. And the time being U| *n-ami li«*n it i- d«me thee arc a th her j i'ifc 1 ami one demands upon h woman's position of lion anil , tie r, and in fV.tilling th<*ni the hours that should be «riven to r.\-t are 1 occupied. Tln re is no gr liter drudge in the world than the woman K ' «T" »'• iio nu j dertnkes to do man's Sh« vork and ! an's work, to«*. Boston lier <iltl. •.ever restA.— l poultry man thinks that the cause . f failures in the manv —An expen ! A I attempts to|kcep fowls in large num bers is dun to lack |«»f care, farmer will x'ise at four o'clock in the j morning to feed and milk the cows, will carefully clean out the stalls and prepare beds for the cows, and his work docs not end till late, but lie will not do so much f«*r the hens. Yet the lions will pay live times as much profit in proportion to labor ami capital invested as the cows. COLORING FLOWERS. A New Y'irlt Fiuriit Talk« About *•« i rwki of U h Tr»«Je. ros**?'' "Shall 1 write your name on this "How will you do it?" asked a re* porter of this dealer who w handling a beautiful jacqueminot rose. "As easily as writing on paper with a pencil and without injuring the rose in any way." •*Tell me about the process." "It is done bv ? electric needle. The needle consists of a very fine piece of platinum wire arid is connected with a very powerful battery, rose mur-t, of course, be handled very The carefully or the entire flow«*r will be destroyed. Take one of the leaves of the flower - one of the most prominent ones an«l a permet one, and place under it a piece of glass. Then, with the needle, quickly write your name over the lent The needle must b«* held very tightly, but it must touch the flow er. The electricity conveyed through the needle kills the parts that it touches and drives all the color out, leaving the name distinctly written, This will show best on colored flowers. like this re«l rose, or on a yellow flow er. It can bo done on a white leaf, well as on the p ut not show as g r ,. e n?" ..y er y easily. Some fl-risis clain: I that coloring flowers is a trad»- secret, : bllt nothing of the sort. When the Ern raid ball was given in B: »ok'vn careen-tipped carnatioi I na .: K „,. cre ^ Jw j, j U ,t ... chemical experiment, to cmr these flowers 4 Col« you make white carnations o-ry W e re Ev TV prominent in the d*-c 'rations. one present at the b ill wore "ome in thei! of odd-lot king A great m: that they had r a! peared that ev**i some amateur tr ir*i*• . «• trying to buy some <f the j I grow in their gardens this Anv bo lv wi summer, n easily van 19 to 1 } KIV ,. fl.iuers. some Tli.'v are <>i !v the iniinii vliite car lilt of 8 U way o doctor ! hey are ; them ; is d .no bv f • - i i t .! - ; em it not be the plant, put ia the - bud and bolie acid. The acid strong enough to inja and just enough sb- u ,1 bo ! 8 | q tor it t Me into Hit VC the This er. it lias opened, an i greenish tint vhen w-1 to make th color dec par th should be »ashed in a solution of car bolic acid after it lias been picked. This method can be number of the colored flowers are wanted, as they can be dipped into the solution a handful at the time. The color does not take hold of the us ■: •hen : rs j n batches on j time is no |bject. a very yrerv c » or* | ing can be given to the flowers, After they have been picked the 1 ] (i;ive g should be cmvfu'.iv squeezed in t | ie , 0 f These tic manner, but ap* s. Li flowers in an a hands the leaves : should null on y loft ho id the : fa v-'ii her»* the - -, r By this a little i look fuan - Just i touched. hav>* l X . r«h in : Ti be made to , edges of th.' ' and a light uade t V' . s Î. The can made 1» black that one av i r , other color flow, r-?" "Just as easily as to o.or th" ear Lilv of the valley made blue or r- d or any « I have taken a spray of li ;• of the v I lev a'd be mtions. 1 •r. ad another blue and The large lilies ok verv peculiar, asiiy be cob-nd and their ' gn ve n ow can bo n: They can be li allies ai large to wish could send lots light lover f letters to some av, and dream <>f examining the leaves of Idles or roses to find mes ho fair duly in thi would ev« ne S ' f ff u-li lo0< j 10 >r*"ty s with the oddlv-eolorod loan one at rang c««dc of pigi flowers. A blue rose mi ;ht another, and d, a green caruatio g voll« on. i>" r i i' i; ' k< - t j 10 s n. I): tie re n s, and so .dors o' ers con'd he made t< svme th mean anv ; hi 5 Ot th « g. lu far. a ew Ian .V'' to ho ew cm! - r e d sors a rang« '! Til * ] Ti M floral b«*auties. mais . J car acid on the tin; vas, 1 boli. dor them discovered by a New Y rk boy. ve. vhn j 1 months had spent a gi eX , penmen:mg. Sine; th E i < ra!«l ba l iJiev have been named the Emerald 1 jq n k. M _.v. )' M end Exp> Wormy Chestnuts. 'll tho old, old "May 1 venture to story. Mi-- Miu-le," he -a >l treinu ! l.nisly; "the old, old, yet « ver new, storv of-" "Pardon me, Mr. Sampson, If 1 " interrupted the girl, "but to me, the story |yeu ! cause you pain, I gently, rish t«« tell i- a chestnut. j "A chestnut?" "Yes, Mr. Sampson, I'm already en gaged; but I will be a sister-" "It isn't as wormy as that one," murmured Mr. Sampson, feeling for his hat.— A'. Y Sun. Degrees not s:riven for by stu dents or others—lUoos below zero.