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FRED SASfcUER, Editor.
V 01.14. We Want Your Trade. We aiv all it you. ami if prices will <l<> it. von are ours. We only iriv.- you a t w items ami prices Just to learn von wlial we are doing. ~ t i t 0,1.. ml ('ii a a lie jut vil Turkey Red Faille Damask, <>o inches i" i y.i. -<■ and all a "“'l' I"" f,,|| Opa.|e Window sha.les, yanl wide, ;e per j-ard. any quantity you lesi siirin ,r roller, all altaclnnenls, ready want. , in M >puiip ■ Clark s Spool Cotton, :lc pel spool. He avv' f line y Chinese Straw Malting. .TO Star Washing Soap, Srper cake. different desairns, tlte per yard, same (mod- Cronin Frm-ze’rs'^l/’Sic. dS ßest quality Japanese Cotton warp fan- 1 Quart lee Cream Freezers, $1 the. ev art inserted Stair Mattings. the per yd. 3 Quart Coffee l.oilec tie. same as others ask 4fle for 000. l strong v arpet Broom fte. " stained Screen Doors, any size you Six Cups and Six Saucers, >lc per set. lies Pins, 2 uoz. for le. " Fancy (>ak Queen Ann Screen Doors, flood quality Fins. “ Urge Papers for any siz.e vou want, title. 1 , ~ , , , , T ... , Window Screens, lit any size win- Children s Darden Sets, Hoe, Hake and dow, 17c. ‘ | Shovel, all for tic. Call and die,, ns a look : particular mention, our Millinery Department. We are ilways luisy. Come we will treat yon rijjlit ; money Rack if yon are dis satisfied with your purchases. I’ohte and attentive Clerks in attendance. Over fit* departments to inter est yon. Mail orders will receive prompt attention. No Rraneh Stores. BLUM BROS., 743, 745 and 747 Kiyhth StSoutheast , WASHIITOTOUST 3D. G. FERTILIZERSatREDUCED PRICES WE ARE SELLIN6 Peruvian Guano at s3s* to .f>so. ACCORDING TO QUALITY Fine Ground Bone with Potash at $25. Baugh’s General Crop Grower at S2O. ALSO BAUGHS HIGH GRADE FERTILIZERS, Pui l'( iu, On fy, Vuhacco's Potn-lo s- Truck and Fruit Trees AT REDUCED PRICES FOR CASH. J2T \VRITE FOR PAMPHLET and PRICES. BAUGH & SONS COMPANY 412 East Lombard St, BALTIMORE, MD SURETY BO IST IT'S FURFTTSHBD. Home Lfficx N. W. Corner Clurles and Lexington Streets. BA.T.TIMOHE. MD. RESOURCES Derembei 31, 1895 lei m'is a '- TIL - - ■ ' ' XitesKitvE KEgi iUFMent and Unmviiki> Profit? - “ ..#. *••>* SMIH,77K.3* THE OLDEST AND sTKONBKST SURETY COMPANY IN THE SOUTH. BECOMES Suin'TY on BoiuD ot Executors. Alministratoi>. ami in all umlerthk ngs in linlicia Pr<xee<ling'. /Vrit nothmu to court iff with the business of J.invycrs. Acc**pit*l lv Hie I N II'ED STATES (iOVKKNMKNT a** >*>lh surc’von Bonds of every description. BECOMES SURETY on B >nds ot SHERIFFS. REGISTERS OF \VILLS. ULKRKS OF t’oUKTS. COLLt ‘ TnUS and oilier t Otic ah ol Slates. Cities and C unities. Alsonn Bond-of Cmtracfors and Fin plove.-1 f Banks. Mercantile 11 *nses. Kailroal. Express and Telegiapli Companies, and on those otoFFi . EKs OF FHATF.RN AL ORGANIZATIONS. UERtION E. ROLLER, EIMIIX WARFIELD, Secretary and Tkeasurf.il President Magruder A: Wilson, Attornys. Bicycles “BETTER THAN EVER.” four elegant models. $85.00 AND SIOO.OO. Akt Catalogue Ekee. central cycle MUG. CO., Vo. 72 Garden Street. Indianapolis, Ind. <TI)c firing (Scorer's ime truer AND SOUTHERN MARYLAND ADVERTISER. UPPER MARLBOROUGH, MD FRIDAY, JOISTE 36, 1896. |Joftrtj. • j WHY NOT KKFOKK? I You will come when my l ice i< as pale as the dow ers. The lily-white dowers >ou strew on my hier; You will come at the close of the long, lonely hours. And show how you loved me when i am not here: When the long watch is over and life is no more. But why not before, friend; O, why not before? Vou will bring of these dowers the best an 1 the rar est. To lay on my casket in beauty and bloom. You will whisper my name ’mid the proudest and fairest. And tell how my going has left you in gloom. When nothing cm c untort the heart that is sore; Then why not before, friend; o, why not before? Vou will come to my grave with a heart almost broken. Anl think of the kind words you oft might have said; You will wish, O, how keenly, the words could he si>okeii That now can not till the dulled ear of the dead. When your voice cannot reach me on Lethe's daik shore; Then why not before, friend; O, why not before? You will sing of my songs, y.ui will tell of my story. And weave the bright garland of praise round my name: Your will crown my cold brow with the laurel of glory. When vain is the glory and useless the fame— When the poor heart is still and the longing is o’er; Then why not before, friend; O. why not bef rc? B Beautiful Jssiiy. “Seek the Pearls beneath tin Tide.” Tliv following is th‘ Commencement Essay <>f Miss (J. livin' Townshend on flic occasion of her gradual i n from St. Cecelia's Academy. Washington. If What a world of t bought is concen trated in those few words! How many persons have started out in search of the precious pearls of life, lint have re ! turned empty handed, or hearing only wretched imitations. Their pearls, or what thev deemed as such, were found glidin'*' on the surface, whilst the •■•reins of purest ra\ serene.” remained deep concealed Leneath the tide. Honor is a pearl which many seek. Imt soon they find that superficial or spasmodic work can never win endnr ing fame; —that those whose names re verlterate from age to a ire are only those who learned early and late to dive deep lieneath the tide of popular prejudice and opinion and persever ingly to labor for some undying prin ciple. Reality too is a precious pearl which every on would wish to possess. Rut alas! how many are content with the tinsel ornaments of external grace. **lt Is not so much the setting we should prize As that which in the setting lies.” Real lieauly emanates from the heart where truthfulness, sincerity and mi alfeeted modesty,—the sweetest charm of excellence, th.- richest “'em in the diadem of honor lies deep concealed, reflecting its soli light in deeds of gra cious usefulness, in manners amiable and unassuming, in sympathy ever ready and sincere, in charily gentle, active and imoLtnisive. All men are in search of the pearl of happiness, lint frivolous and worldly minded people never find this precious gem. They seek it in the llasli <>( worldly gain, or in the glittering folli cles that float around in the shallow waters ot worthless pleasure; lint they liii< 1 ere lilt- has ended that the gleam which dazzled and attracted them 'was only the sparkle of decay, and that their hands grasped nothing Imt Litter 1 seaweeds of remorse. Wiser people, however, dive deep Iteiiealh the waves of out ward show, and discover (here j the pearl ol purest happiness gleaming j in ail its splendor. The sweetest homes, homes to I winch in.-n in wean life look Lack with yearning too deep for tears; homes whose recollect ions linger round them like the Leantifnl sunshine and sweet air tilled with the fragrance of (lowers. —are homes where each one has dived deep Leneath tile 11m■ lid - o| unselfish love, an.) found therein 1 he sweet . pure pearl of happiness. Rut who would seek for happiness without seeking know ledge also. The desire for knowledge is never, perhaps, more strongly developed than in early tile. Children seek this pearl with earnest zeal, and are willing to sacri fice ii lll< ■ 1 1 enjoyment tonLtain it. The desire to know lives within them as a sn red lamp Lnrning Lefoiv the shrine of truth. Rut knowledge, wisdom’s pearl so fair, is not to Le tumid in shal low coastings, nor by leaping Iron) rock to rock as nianv youths suppose. Deep Leneat h the tide of steady and persevering research gleams this fair . pearl, and only patient toil can find it. Main . sin*h as Newton. Raeoii. Kep ler and Farradat sought this pearl from cat'll childhood: Imt they did not, like too main ol hers do. drop out ol the race Lefoiv the goal was reached, tin, out hey toiled, diving deeper and deeper Leneath the tide until at last they dis i covered gleaming in all its beauty and SUCCESSOR TO THE PRINCE GEORGIAN radiance some precious pearl ofscience, which now illumines not only the name of the discoverer, l>nt the path of all who come after him. Again. there is the pearl of love which wives to life the ilea res' .sweetest zest. Hut love cannot he lionghl with gold or pomp ol kings. True love lies in the heart that shrines the purest, noblest things, ami deep beneath the waters of selt-sacrilice it gleams easting a halo around those who are fortunate enough to possess it. The dark shad ows of tile cannot mar the brilliancy of true alfection. but only serve to im part to it a greater lustre, as stars shine brighter iii a midnight sky. There yet e\ists a pearl f>t still high er perfection which till men claim to seek and prize, a pearl for which every other may without loss be sacrificed; — Ihe inestunable pearl oft ruth. Like the beau.iful, pure anemone swayed by Un winds and tossed from side to side but still retaining its beauty, so the real pearl of truth tossed upon I he I roubled waves of life still retains its purity among men. The pearl of truth, though gleaming with greatest brillian cy, is tin- most dillieuit to find because it lies deepest beneath the tide. Still every obstacle ’must t- overcome t obtain this most precious of gems, for it can not be too highly esteemed. Miehes, pleasures, beauty, power, even the dearest ath-etions of the heart, which are but temporal pearls of bliss, must often be cast aside to wive place to the pearl ol truth which alone can purchase for us everlasting happiness. We have been taught to seek these pearls so true. Hy loving parent.- anti dear teachers too; O'er life’s dark stormy way. so f ir anti wide. They hade us seek the pearls beneath the tide. 0 may we, laden with these pearls ol life In our Hlest Home he anchored safe from strife, Where all true gems eternally will shine Reflections f.om the Source of Truth divine deleft Hlisffllniuj. FORTY-ONE SOUS. Monsieur Aristide < Him poll lot. a re tired merchant. a widower with an on ly daughter, is seated iu the diniug room near the table, upon which he easts despariuw glances trom time to time. The table isset for two persons, and Iwo chairs sire drawn up to it. Since live minutes to six the ex merehaut widower with one child has waited for his daughter, ami. as the clock now marks half-past, one may appreciate the extent of his hunger. Not to have begun upon the desert at half-past, one may appreciate the extent of his hunger. Not to have begun upon the desert at half-past six ! It is alxmt to strike the half hour now—it is striking—it has struck. The two doors of the lit tle rustic clock open and the imperti nent bird, shaking its wings, sounds its "euekee" iu a particularly ironic tone. For thirty-live minutes an excellent soup has lieeu spoiling little by little, and. worse than all. he does not know what may be happening, for good or ill. to his beloved daughter Charlotte at this moment. Cruel anguish where in in the iiupiietiide of the heart and the pangs of hunger intermingle ! At this moment llertrnde. the old nurse, family cook, young lady’s maid —iua word, a veritable female facto tum —■•liters the dining-room grum bling. ".Mademoiselle left as usual at four o’clock for the music lesson. The les son lasts an hour. Allowing half an hour to o<i anil as long to return, she -hoiild have been here, as she always is. at six o’clock.” "And now it is thirty-live minutes past-" "Milt t he omilibi|> is freipleut l\ full." ■ A plague on the omnibus! ’ “i'erhaps. a' the weather is tine, madhuioiselle has taken a walk ami will return home on foot by the wav of Mue de ia I’alx. and there are many | milliners ami jewellers and pretty things to attract a young person | .. along I his route. ■•rile deuce take the fashions and the jewelry, ami the girl herself, if she keeps nn- waiting like I.l li ! I --11011111 like to know what one wishes to see alter the dinner hour has arrived." "Not to mention the lovers -the dan dies that follow pretty passers-by to whispei to them a com "till, see! Lovers, indeed! Von j an- laughing at me. tiertrude. Thank the Lord. Chariotle understands how j to -.end such rascals lothe right about.’’ ■ I’hiTe i- perhaps nothing in it. and 1 mat lx- fool. but how a father can have his daughter rim alone t hroiigh the streets. 1 ” "Mini! Mun! In Ihe name of heaven! Von know .on the coni rary, | tlerlmde Charlotte never hurries her-! self.” 1 am glad you can jest about it Rut mark my words, this will all end badly." i Monsieur Chaponlet refuses to listen i further, lie has taken a sudden reso- • lotion. "Gertrude, take away the soup.— I Keep it hot, and bring me my Loots; 1 1 am going to meet her." Gertrude, still mumbling, removes ' the tureen, and is returning with the Loots, when the door bell peals out ' joyously. 1 •That is Charlotte at last!” exclaims 1 the father, who has just taken olf his ‘ slippers. 1 "It is mademoiselle.” repeats tier- 1 trnde. who in her haste to open the 1 door drops the Loots mum Monsieur * Chaponlot’s plate. ( Charlotte enters like a miniature ■ whirlwind; She is small and graceful, with laughing eyes and llnffy hair—is • eighteen years old. has little feet with 1 arched insteps, and pretty hand, per fectly gloved ; heside a thousand other charming details there are dimples in her cheeks, and she has a elean-ent lit- , tie chin, and a soltly-ronnded form.— In a word, she is an adorable little I’a risienne, a Lntterlly. all ribbons and lace. Mowers and furbelows, with all the gods of her father's shop upon her dainty person, but assuredly nothing of the shop about her. • Von have come at last." announces the father ironically, as he seats him selfat the table and unfolds his napkin. “Oh. papa. I was just going to tell yon." "Sit down, sit down llrst ; yon can explain while eating, and 1 will under stand yon Letter then. The deuce! I have waited long enough already.— Gertrude—the soup.” "Rut. papa, you can't think. I've ~a I a real advent lire." "A n advent me!" cries Monsieur ('ha ponlot. starting up. inst as Gertrude gives him a glance of reproach as well as trinmp. aluuv the tureen, as much as to say. "i told yon so!” "Ves. papa, an adventure, in I he om nibus. with a young man. * In the omnibus, with a young man!' Merciful heavens!" "Oh. papa, an adventure with a voting man who was altogether rnmnie it f mt, I assure yon." "I would have yon know, my dear, that a young man who is coin mi il fnut never has an adventure with a young lady—above all in an omnibus. Ex plain yourself." "That is easy to do little papa, and really it isn't of the least use to make such big eyes at me and talk to me in such a voice. 1 had forgotten my pocket I >ook —a thing that is liable to happen any day —" "Oh. yes, especially to those who haven't one. do on." "1 didn't discover it until the con ductor demanded the fare. What was I to do? Should I pass fora pauper— an intriijmifr. perhaps? I turned first as red as a poenv. then I felt my face pale. llap,.ily. as the conductor held out his hand, a young man at my side, placed a piece of silver in it. and said •For two.' This gentleman had under stood the cause of my embarrassment and paid for me.” "So. mademoiselle, yon accept six sons from an unknown man? Reiter a thousand times to ha ve explained the eiivnmstanees to the conductor—tothe drivei —to the comptroller —to any bodv. One does not forget one s pocket book when going on ah omnibus, or better still, one does not go on an omnibus alter having forgotten one's pocket Imm ik. How do yon propose to return these Qx sons to this young main? For I hope yon do not intend keeping t hem." "Rut. papa. I have his card. See here: Monsieur Ageiior Rlanehot. | snnernnmeran t<> the Ministry i of—" ’ | Tin* father, without waiting to heir nn. tv,snatches the Lit of past-board from ' t'.ie girl and cries: "\\ hat. not contest with lending yon thirty centimes in violation of all the pmprieles this gentleman gives yon his card beside! lie is the pettiest, | ini rigner. the lowest of the low—your j i young man who 6 < •./•■ H fnut ' "Now. papa, be reasonable: to return the monev.it was. of course, necessary to know his address.” Monsieur (’ha pon lot linds no suit able repli to this ingenious reasoning; but ! with a gesture indicative of ill-hnmor, j throws his napkin i>n the table. "I am fated not lodine to-day Ger trude, go engage me a carriage. 1 wish to return this Agetioi his six sons at | once, and ti ll him a leu plain truths i beside." "Oh. papa. papa, yon won't do that! II would In' base ingratitude! Only think ol' it. This vontig man lias extricated me from a very unpleasant -it nation." "Unpleasant situation! Let me alone 1 do not care to be lectured, especially l>\ a rattle-brain who loses her poeke-j hi m )k. • Monsieur puts on his boots and takes his came and hat. all the while growing more and more morose. Gertrude enters. "The cabman is below. Rut he only promises to lake yon t here, not to wait for you." "Very well. I can gel another cab to bring me back." So monsieur departs, after slamming the door, while Charlotte, blushing and trembling, recounts to her old friend Gertrude how she is much better ac quainted with Agenor than she dares to confess to her father; that for a month at least she and he have taken the omnibus at the same time, each evening, and that, without seeming to do so, she, Charlotte, has noticed, and so forth, and so forth!" “A line affair indeed!" exclaims the astonished servant, all in a tremor of excitement. Agenor is in his bachelor apartments, and in a sentimental mood is gazing at the hand that his charming neighbor in the omnibus lias touched while tak ing the card lie gave her. Suddenly there comes a knock ;t the door, which opens abruptly. A large man out of breath, his hat over his ears, his cane in his list, enters uncere moniously. “Sir," he exclaims, “to say the least of it, your conduct is unworthy of a French gentleman. A gallant man does not thus take advantage of the in nocence, the inexperience, the artless ness. the embarrassment of a young girl. To profit by the absence of a father and a poeketbook, to brutally offer to a young person who is alone, not only thirty centimes, but a visiting card, may be a good investment, but il is very bad manners. Rut here they are. sir—your six sons. My daughter and 1 wish nothing further in common with yon." And the large man, alter perorating with such volubility, begins to search in his pockets; but before Agenor, who is literally dumbfounded, can utter a word, a new actor appears upon the scene. It is the cabman, who comes in furiously brandishing his whip. "This is line! I tell you I will bring you here, but not wait for yon. and you accept the terms. Von even ord er me to make haste, and when I ar rive yon shoot off like a zebra, as slip pery as an eel. without paying me and calling me to wait. That won't go down, I tell you! I mean what I say. One trip means one trip, nothing else. Come, hurry up,citizen! Sojmiirhoirr, if that worries yon. but 1 want my thirty sons, and 1m- quick a I tout it!" Agenor does not understand: but the large gentlemen, who has precipitately dived into each pocket, then success ively turned them all wrong side out without appreciable result, grows pink and white, then crimson, then violet, and now shades off'into green—a rain -Ikw in a plug hat and overcoat. "1 have forgotten my—my pocket book!" "That's an old trick." roars the eal>- man. “but yon can tell that to the com. missary. It won't answer with me"— and he prepares to seize the arm oft he unfortunate, who, in despair, on the verge of appolexy, meekly submits. Rut Agenor, a veritable providence to the family, gives the cabman the nec essary amount, and orders hint away. “Permit me," the young man says, with exquisite politeness to Miqisienr Chaponlot. who barely has strenght to articulate: “Certainly, my dear sir. with pleas ure. but give him only twenty-live cen times pouiiiinrr —no more." The father ot Mademoiselle Char lotte, who lint recently could not un derstand that a person has not alwais [as much as thirty centimes about one i to pay in an omnibus, now admits that I he is very happy to have some one ad vance tile sum of thirty-live sons to slop the month of a pitiless cabman Thus, notwithstanding the diverse - and unusual emotions he has jn9 ex perienced, it is with an almost gracious smile that he says to Agenor: "Monsieur—Monsieur Ralnehol. 1 [ believe I now owe yon forty-one sons. Il von will do me the pleasure of din ing with mi' this evening, we will set tle I his lit Ile affair. A merchant does not like old debts—besides short reck onings make giMid friends. A quarter of an hour later Gertrude places an extra plate on the table of the Cha pon lots. It is si ill placed there even dav. for the next mont h the bans of Mademoiselle Charlotte and Mon sieur Agenor were published. And Rapa Chaponlot says to any one who 1 cares to listen to him: "Never bornlw. Oye fat her-ol fami lies; it costs too dear. 1 once owed a j debt of fort v-one sons, and in order to pay il I had not only to give away my j daughter, but eighty thousand francs as her ilot.” A fool learns Irom no one. .V wise I man learns from everybody. Highest of all in Leavening Power.—Latest U. S. Gov’t Report Rpyal S ABSOLUTELY pure HI hit' AMI KOIkV I* ASTIR KS PKKFKR ABLE FOR DORSES. Many persons have an idea that the moist meadow lands, entirely free from rocks, afford the best pastures for horses, from the fact that such condi tions are favorable to the rapid growth of the hoofs. It is true the feed is gen erally more luxuriant iu the rich bot tom lands, Imt while animals fatten quite readily on it, they are much sort er and have far less endurance than those raised on the higher ground. As regards the feet—and a horse's foot is really of very great importance —the place where they are raised has very much to do with it. There is so much in inheritance that possibly ex cellent feet might be retained for a sin gle generation where the conditions were really very unfavorable, but there cannot be many successive generations without a very noticeable effect. Where the wear is the greatest nature is stim ulated to furnish the hardest and lest material to withstand it. The Morgan horses, that were for merly raised on the mountain pastures of New Hampshire and Vermont, al most always had excellent feet when they were put to service on the road, feet that in most instances stood them for a lifetime, even though shod by a most bungling and least scientific of blacksmiths. In the desert lands in the east there is something aliont the sharp sands that wears out the feet very rapidly, so rapidly, in laet, that no horses, however sound and good their feet naturally may lic, could with stand much usage unless their feet were properly protected. 11 was undoubtedly in these regions that horseshoes were first invented, and il can readily be seen that the old adage. "Necessity is the mother of in vention." was here brought aliont very naturally. In Xenophon’s account of the notable march of the ten thousand, and in numerous other descriptions of the other marches of calvary, are ac counts of the horses lieing frequently rested for weeks, in order that their feet might grow sufficiently so that the march could be continued. All who have ever seen an Arabian horseshoe, which is a solid plate of steel that covers the whole sole of the foot, have often wondered that the Arabs, who are said to lie such generally ex cellent horsemen, should make use of such a device. Still, Irom those who have traversed the deserts where such shoes are used, we have learned that tile best of horse shoes wear out very rapidly, and that as soon as the shoe is gone the foot wears away to such an extent that the horse soon Incomes too footsore to be used. Oil some of out' trotting tracks, where the clay or loam is mixed with only a comparatively small portion of sand, of somewhat the same nature, shoes are worn out very rapidly. Observing trainers, who have had experience on many different tracks, have noticed that at Mystic the same weight ot the shoe wears only aliont half as long as on many other tracks, the small amount of sand which the soil of that track contains actually cutting and wearing the slim' away with unusual rapidity. From that we can get some idea of the rapidity with which shoes would be worn out in crossing those eastern deserts and that alter the shoe is gone the feet would also be ver\ rapidly worn away. It i- very notable, however, that horses raised in those regions, as a rule, have most exei'llent feet. On the other hand, on tin* low land of Holland and other sections where the conditions are similar, the damp ness causes the feet to grow rapidly, and though the hiMil is soli it is not worn away nearly as fast at il grows, and consequently has to be pared con tinually. On mans of the most fertile stock farms in out* own country the feel of (he rolls and brood mares have to be very frequently pared to keep them from becoming grown out abnor mally. Rv constantly cutting and rasping awas a fairly good foot is kept, but it is in■( likely to be quite as good as the one grown where the frequent touch of the rocks and ledges wears it assay sufficiently to offset the natural growth. This is to some extent, naturally reg ulated, as to the coll or horse, on be coming footsore, either avoids stepping on the rocks or touches them so liglit ls* and daintily as to svear as little as possible, svbere otherwise he would strike as heavily on the rocks as on the Established 1802 N 0.27 grass. The selection of a pastnre is in many instances merely a matter of convenience; anil is purely made from a dollars and cents standpoint ; still, oftentimes a mistake is made in select ing the low meadow lands in prefer ence to the higher and more rocky and at the same time much rougher ground of the mountain pastures, Climbing the hills and mountains strengthens the lames as well as the muscles, and ths result is every way a Letter ani mal in consequence. On a very-rough pasture horses are not half as likely to kick each other as where is is smooth, and even stumps are beneficial in this respect. For farm work, and in many in stances lor a considerable amount of driving on the road, liorses are actual ly I letter olf if not shod at all, though shoes are necessity wherever the natural growth is not sullicient to compensate for the wearing away, and as a provision against slipping on the ice in winter or on the- city pavements at all seasons ot the year. In the stables it used to he an old-time notion that the young colt ought to stand on some very soft material, and for that reason the drop pings were allowed to accumulate per haps for a whole winter. Nothing could Ik- much worse, except where the stables were actually so cold that the whole was frozen solid and remain ed so for a considerable* portion of the time. • Many of the country hams and stables are built so as to afford con siderable room that is partly under ground. with perhaps one side level with the ground. Usually in such places there is no floor, and for a con siderable portion of the year these barn cellars are actually quite wet. It is true in these conditions the wear of the h.ml's is not great: but this mois ture and rapid growth, particularly unless especial care is taken, is very apt to occasion thrush, a condition that is practically unknown where colts and horses stand on the hard fnsirs in winter and run in the rocky mountain pastures in summer. If the barn cellars are to lie used at all for the horses, it would be a great improvement to fix them much ■ as the macadamized roads are built, ■ and there would really be no necessity of any covering over of dirt as the finely crushed rock would really l>e 1 better for the feet of the houses and colts. A warm damp atmosphere and situation is much less conductive to the general health of the horse than the dry and colder one, the feet being by no means the only part that suiters. ' We would at any time far rather see the feet of a valuable colt running in rocky pastures, than to see the frog, and. in fact, almost the whole sole, 1 wasted away by thrush, as is often the ease where they have run in soft, damp places and the feet not been properly cared for— Vision, in Ameri ca a Horse Breeder. <■0(111 health Alula good appetite go hand in hand. With the loss ofappetite, the system cannot long sustain itself. Thus the fortifications of good health are broken down and the system is liable to attacks oi disease. It is in such cases that the medicinal powers of Hood’ Sarsaparilla are clearly shown. Thousands who have taken Hood's Sarsaparilla testily to its great merits as a purifier of the blood, its powers to restore and sharpen the appetite and promote a healthy action of the digestive organs. Thus it is,not what we say but what Hood's Sarsa parilla does that tolls the story and constitutes the strongest recommenda tion that can be urged for any medi cine. Why not take Hood's Sarsapa rilla now' He (rather proudly)—Ves, m\ an cestors were among the supporters of Louis XVI. Indeed, one of them veas beheaded. She (dreamily)—Strange how inev itably heredity works, isn't it ? Lost his head, you said A n I rishman's definition i f wit; Wit is the lava which conies from the month of a lively crater. * Fosilick—Cigarettes, really do some good in lh(> world. Haskett—How?" Fosdick —They kill bacilli and dudes.