Newspaper Page Text
PUBLISHED AT PftgT TOBACCO, CHARLES COUNTY, MARYLAND, EVERY FRIDAY MORNING, BY WELLS, EDITOR AND PROPRIETOR, AT TWO DOLLARS PER ANNUM IN ADVAN
Volume 30. ■ From the AlcHne for October. FOREST SPRING. I. Tall, arching birches toward the sky Their leafy branches rear on high ; They roof me o’er with living green, With rifts of azure in between, Where fleecy clouds in quiet lie. Upon the mosses’ velvet seat I pause to rest my weary feet. And stooping downward *o the rill, My hollowed hands with water fill, And quaff the liquid pure and sweet. Low bending o’er the sparkling spring, I hear !he water-spirits sing; Their merry games I see, perchance, Or watch them in their fairy dance, Unseen of al! the sportive ring.* I see them hide among the weeds, Or pelt each other with the seeds ; Or launching in an acorn boat, Upon the mimic ocean float And climb the rigging of the reeds. I hear the thrush’s tenor deep : Its music almost makes me weep, Recalling as it does to me Full many a pleasant memory, , That passing years had lulled to sleep, Poor, troubled singer, seek thy rest, I cannot aid thy lonely quest. For thee and me, perhaps, is grief, But lapsing years may bring relief, And may be what we have is best. 11. Once more to aid my noon-tide dream I pause beside the murmuring stream, Where rippling shadows interlace Upon its bright and dimpled face, And pebbles from the bottom gleam. The water-sprites no longer play On lily-pads their quaint croquet, For gazing down into the deep I find them lying there asleep, With weeds tucked round each little fay. But wakeful faces still I see Upturned to take a peep at me, Surprised to note so strange a thing Reflected: in their quiet spring, And wondering what the form can be. Sleep, fays, in peace! odo not fear That I will harm your streamlet dear; Pour-out, 0 thrush, your glorious strain! I love thee, and I’ll come again— The spring to see—thy song to hear 1 Sit imu.sittj . From Wood’s Household Magazine. JOHN . STEPHENS PERICARDIUM. BY ELEANOR KIRK. “ftow I am p-oimr to toll whatmy husband said to ing, Doctor, word for invalid, Mrs. Stephens, lay back again on the sofa pillows, the very picture of misery. The family physician, who was called, on an average, to the Ste phens mansion three hundred and six ty times a year, drew a chair close to the couch, and waited quietly for his patient to open her book of complaints. “Last night, you see, Doctor, I had on ill turn, and he wanted to come'for you; but when I got so that he dared to leave me, he concluded then we’d better let you sleep.” “Much obliged to him,” said the Doctor, with a little sarcastic emphasis on the personal pronoun. “Last night waa the first undisturbed night’s rest I have enjoyed for a week.” Mrs. Stephens con tinned: “This spell was the same as I had the last time you were sent for, Doctor—” “A slight nervous attack,” broke in the physician, “nothing more.” “Well, it don’t make any difference what you call it, it was mighty hard to bear; but let me tell you what my husband said first, Doctor, before we go into symptoms. When he was go ing down to breakfast, he says to me, 'Kate, what shall I send you up?’ “Says I, ‘I don’t want anything in £he world but a good strong cup of tea. ’Tell Bridget to send it up in the little <aa-pofc.’ I saw, Doctor, that he didn’t move after I said this, so I turned and looked up ftt him, and such a picture of rage and disgust I never saw in my life. Finally, says he, ‘Tea! tea! tea! Its nothing but tea from morniug till! Rghti Kate,’ says he, ‘you are the color af a Chinaman now. Why don’t yon order a good piece of beefsteak, and a ff -brown bread, and a cup of 4hat would be a sensible jbreakJa^t l* . “‘Bnf, J/3hn,’ says I, ‘you forget that lam sick and have no appetite,’ J was all ready ho cry, but I was determined that he shouldn’t have the satisfaction ||| pf seeing the tears fall, ** ‘Forget,’ says he; ‘forget ? I wish to Heaven I could forget! It’s noth ing but grunt and groan from one year’* end to the other! I have lost all patience with ysu,’ says he. ‘When we lived in part of a house, and you did your own housework, you were as well and happy as anybody, and no paan ever had a pleasanter little home than John Stephens; but what have I pow to leave, or come back to?’ and ®he pert ®opacco Qfimes.. this, Doctor, is what he ended up with, — “ ‘Kate,’ says he, ‘you are nothing more nor less than a drunkard! and, in the sight of God, more culpable than most of the men who stagger through the streets; because the majority of those poor devils have some sort of an excuse for their conduct, and you haven’t the slightest You have a luxurious home, a husband doing his level best to make you happy—every thing under the light of the sun to please you, and yet you will persist in swilling tea.’ Yes, Doctor, swilling was the word he used—boo! hoo! hoo! Oh dear me! to think I should ever have lived to have heard such dread ful language out of my husband’s mouth; and then says he—‘and mak ing me as miserable a wretch as walks the earth.’” “Pretty plain talk,” interrupted the Doctor, with a shrug of his broad shoulders. “Oh yes,” sobbed the victim, “and so awfully coarse and unkind. If I had had a spell, and died there before his very face, I don’t Believe he would have cared a snap of his finger. I tell you, Doctor Ellis, there is such a thing as a man’s getting hardened.” “Evidently,” replied the physician, with a laconicism absolutely painful. “But my husband has nothing in the world to trouble him but just my poor health; and I am sure I can’t help that.” This remark was mo-re in answer to her companion’s tone and manner, than the one single word that had ac cidentally escaped his lips, and this the Doctor felt. “Anybody would think, by the way ' he goes on,” continued the irate wo man, “that I enjoyed myself with spasms, and cramps, and fainting fits. Anybody would think it was a pleas ure. to me to feel, every time I see a funeral procession, as if the hearse was vest such a 1 eia verv eniovahle last words; the man’s eyes grew lumi ■ nous, and his whole face declared that , he considered himself master of the situation; and if Mrs. Stephens had not been so entirely taken up with her , own ailments, mental and physical, that honest countenance would have betrayed him. “You say,” he began, Settling him self in the large easy chair, and assum ing a strictly professional air, “that your husband has nothing to trouble him hut your health; how know , that, Mrs. Stephens ?” “How? why how do I know any i thing? By the evidence of my-senses. Don’t I know that John Stephens has a splendid business that looks after it self, a magnificent income, and money enough to live on the bare interest, as well as a family need to live, if he never entered his office again while he has breath ?” “But money isn’t everything, Mrs. Stephens,” • proceeded the physician, with a calmness almost mephistophe lian. “There are other troubles be side money troubles. How about health, madam ?” “Health?” repeated the lady with a smile, she intended "to be sarcastic to the last degree. “Health ? Dr. Ellis! Why, there isn’t a healthier or a sound er man than my husband in the whole United States. He eats more in one meal than I do in three months.” “There is nothing the matter with your husband’s stomach, Mrs. Steph ens.” Dr. Ellis shaded his face with his hand and waited further developments. Mrs. Stephens mistook this attempt at forced concealment for emotion, and immediately assumed a sitting posture, brushed her hair away from her fore - head and looked piercingly into her companion’s face. “Why do yo.u accent the word ‘stom ach’ so strongly, Dr. Ellis ?” she’ in quired in anxious tones. Mrs. Steph ens was forgetting herself, and this the Doctor hailed as an excellent omen. “Only that I might make you un derstand that a man’s digestion could be most unexceptionable, and yet he be far from sound in other directions.” i “Then you mean to tell me that my 1 husband is sick ?” “I do.” “Perhaps you will go still further, and say dangerously?” FORT TOBACCO, MARYLAND, OCTOBER 34,1873. “If you desire it.” “Oh, Dr.' Ellis, how cold and unfeel- 1 ing you are! I should think you ought to know by this time,” —and just here Mrs. Stephens broke down entirely, and sobbed as if her heart would break. “Ought to know what, Mrs. Steph ens?” inquired the Doctor, with u.n called-for deliberation. • “You ought to know—to know — that my —my husband’s health and life are of a good deal more consequence to me than my own.” “Ah, indeed,” interrupted the phy sician, with an elevation of his bushy eyebrows, immensely suggestive of a contrary opinion, as well as several ex cellent reasons for said opinion. “Dr. Ellis, will yon be kind enough to tell me what’s the matter with my husband ?” Mrs. Stephens was now<qn her feet —tears all wiped away, eyes flashing with resentful spirit, and only a little quiver of the lip, to show how deep a wound the kind heart in her bosom had sustained. There she stood, re proachful, defiant, determined, woman ly. The Doctor was delighted, and such an honest face it was, that he car ried round with him from door to door, from sunrise to sunset, every day in the year, that it was a mighty hard matter to keep it from an immediate betrayal of the whole purpose. • “Mrs. Stephens,” said he, “you have , no cause to be alarmed. If lean only get your co-operation in this business, ‘ I feel certain that I shall be able to make a well man of your husband in a-few months, at the longest; but, as true as I sit here before you, I cannot do this alone.” “Why have I informed of . this before ?” in Mrs. Stephens, imperiously. “Who was there to inform you, mad , am ? Your husband does not know , his condition, and I should really like to he told when you have been suffi ciently calm to hear all that was ne fought to have understood that my own h eat than cl com forT arenOTn ing, com pared to my husband’s.” Mrs. Steph-* ens was weeping again. “There is no sacrifice I would not make for him.” “Curious creatures!” muttered the Doctor; “delightful bundles of contra dictions ! How the mischief should I know, Mrs. -Stephens, how much you care for your husband? I am sure you have spent the last half hour com- 1 plaining about him. Is that the way women generally testify their regard 1 for their husbands?” “Oh, don’t Dr. Ellis, please don’t,” ’ pleaded the terrified woman. “I will never complain again—never—if you ' will only let me know what I can do for him. Do you know, Doctor, I htwi begun to think lately that something must be amiss with him, he was grow ing so irritable. Poor dear! how wick- j ed and thoughtless I have been.” \ “This, then, is the trouble. I shall ( take it for granted, madam, that you , dinow something about physiology, and ( can follow me without difficulty ?” “Oh yes—yes, for mercy’s sake, go i on.” | “Very well; I find that the pericar dium—” • | “The pericardium?” repeated Mrs. Sthephens. i “You know what that is, I suppose?” ; Evidently Mrs. Stephens’ anatomi- 1 cal knowledge was limited. She shook her head in despair. , “Something about the /heart, isn’t j it?” she asked at last. “Yes, the pericardium is the mem- 1 braneous sac that holds the heart.— 1 Well, sometimes this sac—it is no mat- 1 ter about particulars, Mrs. Stephens,” ( and Dr. Ellis suddenly came to a stand i still. 1 “It is enough, though, for me to say 1 that we are both passably anxious that this heart should remain where it be longs. Mr. Stephens must be amused. - He wants the opera, the lecture, the social circle, entertaining books—a : happy home—music. You play and ] sing, do you not, Mrs. Stephens?” “Oh yes—l used tq,” and Mrs. Ste- ) phens’ tones were so pitiful now that < big Dr, Ellis really and truly was o- ] bliged to wipe both his eyes and his , nose. Before he was aware, the lach rymal duct had got the upper hand. “Well, try it again; yet a teacher, ] and go to practicing.” ( “But how am I going to manage my spasms?” sobbed the lady. j m 4| “Well, perhaps* between us both— I you using your wml poier, and think ing of your out will: him, and taking —and 1 doing my best in we may be able to subdue them; Wfc you must re member this, madam—do not let Mr. Stephens have that you think anythiaitis the matter with him; and, not treat him like an invalid. him and all that you you used to when you were Another series of from Mrs. Stephens. The Doctor arose to His patient had entirely forgotten he had left no prescription. ~ : Sw * . “About tea, Doctor?’* she asked, as he prepared to leave. /Do you think it very hurtful ?” * . i “As an occasional to&ic, I have no objection to tea; hut daily bever age, madam it is an injeHfioh of the devil. Good morning. / John Stephens sough* his home that evening with a heavy h: art. His wife he believed a confirmed invalid, or hy pochondriac—it mattered little which; one was as bad as the cr-her. His re monstrances and pleadings had proved of no avail; he was doubtful even whether his wife loved ) im. He open ed the door softly with* his latch-key. This had becorrie seldom did the gentleman show himself to his wife until after the dinner bell /had sum moned the family to tl? 3 dining-room. A strain of music m£t and transfix ed him on the very tlv fshold. Abt’s beautiful song was rendered, and his wife was the ian. He was just in time to hear —PC “The eyes thaUpatin' r.'wecp Are the .all.’ ’ Eor a full jetSmm /harming voice had been as grave. he muttered. He opened the parljf qRr and p<*eed In. There was -MwMSphn Over as he had ever seendler. ’ “What does this mean, Kate?” he > asked, with outstretched arms. “That 1 have given jap tea, and am going to try hard and be well! I guess my voice will all comeback, John.” “X guess so,” he replied, folding her tight to his heart. Three months after this the cure was so radical, that Dr. Ellis made a clean burst of the whole thing; and there is no word or set of words that can provoke so hearty a laugh in the happy home of the Stephens’ as this physiologically scientific one, — Pericardium. 1 "-■= IfhdflLdlisff Hairy. . Improved Implements. The disscussiou at the evening meet*- ing of the New York State Agricultu ral Society, Sept. 29th, was on the Ben efit of Improved Implements of Agri culture, and was opened by Hon. Geo. Geddes, in the following remarks: One result of this improved machi nery is a demand for more mechanical skill in the management oUa farm.— The mere has less general knowledge*now than most farm hands had a quarter of a century ago. An immigrant just from over the sea can soon be taught how to bind grain and handle hay tolerably well if he tries. But he must have a very well qualified teacher. | While the American 1 plow and our tools for mellowing and sow ing seed, are the any in the world, the labor up to the harvesting Be crops, and in the maimfacture and cheese, is not essentially n as before the great in some of the most of agriculture. Still there are less men now employed in pffffiortion .to the whole population in producing food, than were before the year 1852. The census tables gißthis reduction at about one-third, by a late writer in the New Alex. Delmar. While the wrk of haying and harvesting is lessened more than this proportion, yet it is not probable the whole labor of the farm is lessened more than one-third. , The question arises, who ia most benefited by this cheapening of the food and raw-mate rial for the clothing of the people?— The price paid for farm labor, when reduced to the gold value of the money paid, is quite double the price paid for like service thirty years ago. So the first benefit of the improvement of ma chinery enures in this case to the la borer himself. Eor the employer pays more extra compensation to his men - than is saved by the improvements in •_ implements. The prices of the pro- ducts of agriculture are larger than they were thirty years ago, or the pro ducers could not pay the prices now e ruling for labor. i- But the elfect of this doubling of the • t compensation of agricultural Iphor and liberating one-third of the persons for -11 merly employed, and giving them to r other industries, is felt in all branches t of business. The laborer now has mon i ey to provide his family with comforts j unknown in his mode of- life thirty years ago. The immediate consequence • of this plenty of money with the peo • pie who -will work, are better educa tion, and more independence and ele t vation of character. Savings Banks j. have larger deposits,’'merchants sell more goods, and all branches of busi ness are quickened. But a very seri -3 ons objection has been made by Mr. : Delmar, in his article in the Times, to the influences df the improvement of y the implements of agriculture, and that is—over-production of grain crops. We are told that the population of 3 North America is 52,000,000, and that 16 bushels of the cereals is all that can t be consumed by each individual—all ; branches of consumption being taken into account, including the amount converted into liquors, starch, &c., and ! the amount fed to animals, and he gives - the quantity of cereals produced by [ this population at 1,725,000,000 bush els in the year 1870, which is 35 1-5 1 bushels each, and he says that the far ‘ raers of the United Sates alot^j^sid - ered, produce 40 bushels of [ the whole people, which is . their power of consumption. This calculation like many others based upon census returns is manifest ■ ly erroneous, for 1870 has been so long • past that by this time we should know i exactly the' effects of such over prpduc i tion upon the prices of grain. Since 1870 the crops have been reported as 1 good, and by this time would, by such calculations, be on hand an inconceiv able immense quantity of unsalable grain. For it is now claimed that we > export only a very small percentage of the crops produced in this country. Mr. Delmar says he “learned in his late tour in E Ul> ope, in the charac ■ ter of delegate to the Statistical Con i gress, and from other sources, that the . world is to-day producing more bread . than it can eat, and he says that “we, " it! participants in an over-done industry, s and the sooner we abandon the policy of endowing agricultural colleges and ( turn the minds of our children rather 1 to proficiency in mechanics, the better.” 1 This is the first that any of us have heard of there being any danger of - over-production of food growing out of anything that agricultural colleges are doing. ! These alarming figures have fright b ened the learned Doctor of Divinity 1 who edits the official organ of the most ; numerous denomination of Erotestant , Christians of this country into saying: ' “It is plain that in a merely commer -1 cial sense, agriculture Is an overdone form of industry. In the parlance otf the street, farming does not pay —can- i not be made to pay,” and that “there is great danger that this superabun dance of material wealth, if not em ployed for some higher purpose, will lead to habits of luxury and dissipa tion that can result only*in the utter demoralization of society.” I cite these speculations of men of figures to show that the improved ma chines of agriculture are charged with vas# responsibilities—even the ruin of the nation by feeding the people too well. To allay fears that may have been caused by these alarmists, let us say ’ that there certainly is no such surplus 1 of food, nor has there been, as this manipulator of figures says there was in 1870. For if such an access of ■ twenty-four bushels per capita had been produqed, it must either be stor ! ed, with the crops since raised or ex ported to other countries. If it was yet here, the prices of grain could not 'be as high as they are. To export such a surplus, calling the average ! weight per bushel fifty pounds, would ■ employ 5,700 ships carrying 100 tons each, and taking each four loads in a , year —for the total weight of such a ! quantity of grain would not be less > than 22,800,000 tons, and would fully ’ tax all the trunk-lines of railroad and all the canals, to the exclusion of all ! other business from the west to the , east. We have heard much complaint of the high prices that manufacturers of . implements and reapers put upon them, and of the resulting too large profits that they receive. — - No actor, according to the Danbury News man, has yet been able to coun terfeit that expression of joy which a i man shows when discovei-ing a ten . cent stamp in his paper of tobacco. iSf-A man in Peoria claims to have a stone that Washington threw at a ’ wood-pecker on his father’s cherry tree. UgrAn lowa clergyman who had a ! donation party lately, has beans enough i to last him thirty seven years. i The Contented Man. We never knew more than one mai y who was perfectly satisfied with th( - weather at all times and under all cir y cumstances. It was Chubb. No mat ter what the condition of the weather, e Chubb was always contented and hap -1 py, and willing to afirm that the state -of things 'at'any given moment was the 3 very best state that could be devised. 3 In summer, when the thermometer - bolted up among the nineties, Chubb 3 would come to the front door with t beads of perspiration standing all over J his red face, until his head looked like • a raspberry, and would look at the sky ■ and say, “Splendid! perfectly splend ■ dd! Noble weather for the poor and i for the ice companies and the washer women ! 1 never saw such magnificent ■ weather for drying shirts. They don’t shake up any such climate as this in Italy. Gimme my nmbreller, Harriet, while I sit out yer on the steps and en ‘ joy it.” In winter, when the mercury would creep down fifteen degrees below zero, and the cold was severe enough to freeze the inside of Vesuvius solid to the center of the globe, Chubb would sit out on my fence and exclaim, “By gracious, Adder, did you ever see such weather as this? I like an atmosphere that freezes up your very marrer. It helps the coal trade and keeps the snakes quiet. Don’t talk of summer time to me. Gimme cold and give it to me stiff. When there was drought, Chubb used to meet us in the street and remark, “No rain yet, I see! Mag nificent, isn’t it? I want my weather dry. I want it with the dampness left out. Moisture breeds fever and agfce, and wets your clothes. If there’s any thing I despise it’s to carry ah umbrel ler. No rain for me, if you please. When it rained for a week and swamp ed the country, Chnbb often djfopped in to see us and observe, “I diinno how you feel about this yer rain, Adele 7 but it allers seems to me that the heav ens never drop no blessings but when we have a long wet spell. It makes the corn jump and cleans the sewers and keeps chewing tobacco from get ting too dry. I wouldn’t give a cent to to live in a climate where there was no rain. Put me on the Nile and I’d die in a week. Soak me through and thro’ to the inside of miy undershirt, and I feel as if life was bright and beautiful, and sorror nothing but nonsense.” On a showery day, when the sun shone brightly at one moment and at|be next the ram’ poured m torre&ts, Olmbb used to stand at the? window and ex claim, “Harriet) if you’d’ve asked me how I like the weather, I’d’ve Said, lust as it is now. What I want is weather that is streaked, like a piece of lean and fat bacon, a little shine and a little rain. Mix’em up and give us plenty of both and I’m your man.” Chubb was always happy in a thunder storm, and one day, after the lightning had knocked down two of his trees and torn his chimney to pieces, we over to see him, He was standing by the prostrate trees, and he at once re-; marked, “Did you ever know of a man; having such Tuck as that? I was going to chop down them two trees to-mor row, and as that chimney never dfaw’d well, I had concluded to have it rebuilt And that gorgeous old storm has fixed things just as I want ’em, Put me in a thunder storm and let the lightning play around hie and I’m at home. I’d rather have one storm that would tear the bowels out of the American conti nent than a dozen of yer little dribblin’ waterin’-pot showers. If I can’t have a rippin’ and roarin’ storm I don’t want none.” One day Chnbb was upon his roof fixing a shingle, when a torna do struck him, lifted him off, carried him a quarter of a mile and dashed him with such terrible force against a that his leg was broken. As they car ried him home we met him, and when we asked him how he felt, he opened his eyes languidly and sard, “Immor tal Moses I what a storm that Was!— When it does blow, it suits the senior member of the Chubb family if it blows hard, I’d give both legs if we could have a squall like that every day. I— I—” then he fainted. We want Chubb elected president. He is the only man in the universe who don’t growl at the weather, and he ought to have glory and honor. — Max Adder. Save Money. It is well worth saving, and you can save it by buying a Sewing Machine, and get one of the best and most per fect machines in existence. The Elias Howe Sewing Machine has reached a point of excellence and perfectness e qualled by no machine in use, and the constantly and rapidly increasing de mand, which is almost beyond their manufacturing capacity to supply, is convincing evidence that the merits of this machine are being appreciated by the public. Moreover, it is sold at ar moderate price and on easy terms. The Southern people should bear in mind that many machines are sold in the South at an advance price of fif teen dollars over New York prices,— Call and see the “Howe.” Joseph T. Port Tobacco. BSP* A man in this county who don’t take any papers, says he can’t find a word in the dictionary, because the blasted hook hasn’t got an index. The Late Dr. Nelaton. n The Paris correspondent of a medi e cal journal gives a pleasant remin > iscence of the celebrated Dr. Neal ton, >| physician to the late Emperor, whose r, death was recently announced by ca -! ble: e “As I passed into the liali I heard e groans, evidently of a child in great I. pain, the door leading to the sick ward r war ajar, and I heard the voice of a b man talking earnestly with a little’ i sufferer. There was something very r affecting in the imploring tones of the 3 childs’s voice and the tender and sym f pathizing replies of the physician, and - it seemed to me not wrong to witness I unseen, through the crack of the half - open door, the scene that was passing t within. On a narrow pallet near the : window lay a fine boy, nine or ten years i old, dying of cancer, developing itself , between the eyes and behind the nose, • It had not shown itself externally, but r had destroyed the sight, and was at ' tended by excruciating suffering. By i his side sat a stately white-haired man, . holding with one hand the two of the i little patient, while with the qther he caressingly smoothed his hair. The child told the story of his pain, Ah % je s souffre tant! ( 4 0! I suffer so much 5 ), - to which the old man listened patient : ly, promising to devise some relief.— Then he rose to leave, but first bent i over the boy, and with tears dropping from his eyes, kissed his forehead as ; lovingly as a mother. The white hair ed man was the world-renowned Nela ton.” r. - tSf*A courteous mail often succeeds in life, when persons of greater ability fail. The experience of every man fur nishes frequent instances where con ciliatory manners have made fortunes for physicians, lawyers, politicans, mer chants, and indeed individuals of all pursuits. In being introduced to a stranger, his affability or the reverse creates instantaneously a prepossession in his favor, or awakens unconscious ly a prejudice against him. To men civility is, in fact, what a pleasing ap pearance is to woman; it is a general passport to favor —a letter of recom mendation written in a language that every person understands. The beat of men often injure themselves by ir ritability and consequent rudeness; whereas men of inferior abilities have frequently succeeded by their agreea ble and pleasing manners. Of two men, espial 'in all other respfpts, the courteous one has twice the ad vantage and by* far the better chance of mak ing his* way in the world. --a :< -l ', K - s ; , , Recipes. Soft Gingerbread. —Melted butter half a coffee-cup, molasses two cups, one egg, one tablespoonful of ginger, one colfee-cup of sum* milk, two heap ing teaspoons of sooa -added the last thing before baking, and fleur to make stiff batter. Bake at once iman oven with steady heat. No cake burns as easily as molasses cake. Baked Tomatoes. —Take them when fully ¥ipe, cut off a slice from the stem tide, scoop out the pulp of toma ■J |toe, and mix with it bread crumbs, butter, pepper, and salt. . Fill the empty shell with this mixture, replace the dices, put them in a shallow pan, s (and bake an hour. * Baked Eggs—A matron says: Beat up six eggs, one tablespoonful of flour, six of sweet-tailkf melt your butter in the frying-pan; when hot turn sthe whole in, well beaten and bake in a * hot oven. *®*“Sam,” said a darkey to his eb ony brother, “how am dat yaa telegraf carries de news froO dem wires?”— “Well, Caesar, now s’pose dar am a dog free miles long.” “Nebber was such a big dog; do’n b’lieb dat!” “You jess wait minnit; Ts only illustratin’, you stupid nigger. Now, dis yaa dog, you see, jess puts his front feets on de Hoboken sho, and he puts his behind .feets on de New York sho’.” “Yesser.” “Now, s’pose yon walk on dis yaa dog’s tail in New York--*” “He’ll bark, won’t he?” “Yesser.”-—’ “Well, where will that dog bark?”-—: . “In Hoboken,*l calculate.” “Dat am jest it. You walk on de dog’s tail in New York, an’he bark in Hoboken; dat’s de way de telegraf works.” “Yes ser, dasso-dasso I You’s right, by got* m Equal Rights.—The Anti-Railroad war in Illinois is not without its hu morous side, earnest as the opposing , parties are. / “Take your arm from around that woman,” shouted out a railroad offi cial to a passenger tljp other day, “Why/’ replied the man, “she’s my wife; I have a right to have my arm ■ around her,” “Not on the railroad,” rejoined the conductor. “The new law forbids all unjust discriminations,’ and as I haven’t got a woman for every man op this train to hug, I can’t permit you,” jjSfNowadays every little village politician has his axe to grind, while the late lamented Washington had nothing but his little hatchet. , *@°-When you hear a man say the i “world owes him a living,” don’t leave any hams laying around loose, Number 26.