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Tlie liWer’s Choice. BY MXfiY AIXGK DE VERB. Here are roses, red and white '*• Thanks, dear,—no. s*kture oaiots them all too bright.” “Isit sot” Well, then, take this lily’s face.” "Chill it seems, From its calm and stately a race Coldness gleams.” “ lajok—blue violets, you said They were sweet!” Best their sweetness seemeth shed At our feet.” “ Heliotrope, the dearest flower On the earth 1 ” “ Nay, it fades before ail hour. Little worth !" " Heart’s ease—that you! surely keep 1” " If you might Lay it on niv spirit, deep Out of sight!” “ So I cannot please your sense; You implore One fair gift to carry hence, One—no more: " Yet each choicest bud I bring, You refuse! ” “ Sweet, from out their blossoming Let me choose, “ Kneeling—like love’s humblest slave. Do nut start! Can yon guess which flower I crave Now, sweetheart!” —Scribner’s for April. The Good-for-Xothing. “ Richard’s main fault is that he’s just good lor nothing,” and Josiah Broadbent tapped the ashes out of liis pipe in a very desponding way. “ I don’t believe that, Josiah. Na ture does not put such a grand dome over a fine lace for * nothing.’ Rich ard has not had a fair trial, that is all about it.” The subject of this conversation sat at an open window at the other end of the long parlors, and as the two older men looked toward him he raised his eyes trom the book in his hand to follow the upward flight ot a white-winged flock of pigeons. Rational, full, deepset eyes, and a bright, keen face, surrounded by soft, light, curly hair. Most people would have looked at such a face in a man with dim doubts and foreboding. Richard was a stray soul in a stray body in that plain matter-of-fact fam ily. None of the Broadbents had ever been the least like him. Yeo men, woodstaplers, spinners and weav ers, great hard-headed, hard-fisted Yorkshiremen, what kin to them was this bright, clever youth, who looked like a knight just stepped out of a fairy book ? At first Richard’s love for learning had rather amused his household. Old Josiah was not averse to seeing his son carry off all the honors of his school, and when the people spoke of the lad’s attainment, and of the prom ising career before him, he thought of course they meant that Richard would greatly increase the business of Broadbent & Sons, and perhaps in the end get into Parliament. But Richard showed no disposition for business, and after a year of fruit less and aggravating efforts to find something he could do in the works, the trial had been abandoned. His elder brothers, Stephen and Mark, were very fond of the lad, who was ten years younger than either of them, and whose beauty and bright ways had been their pride for twenty years. Indeed, Richard’s mother died at his birth, there “ big brothers” had adopted “ little Dick ” with all their hearts, and when he complained that the smell and noise of the works made him ill, Stephen had spoken very decidedly to his father about forcing the trial further. “ There’s plenty o’ brass i’ Leed’s bank to keep him, father, and Mark and I can well fend for oursel’s. Let the lad be. He’s none like us.” And Josiah, having also a tender spot in his heart for his youngest son, had sighed, and left Richard very much to his own devices. But every now and then be wanted his grumble about the lad’s shiftless, good-for nothing ways, and this night he had had it to his chief friend, the Rev. Samuel Sorley, Rector of his parish. Mr. Sorley knew Richard better than either his father or brothers, and he was glad the subject had been opened. “Josiah,” he said, gravely, “tell Stephen and Mark that I want Rich ard for four years. You can give him a thousand pounds or not, just as you trust me, hut at the end ot that time I think I’ll prove Richard Rroadbent no fool.” “What wilt do wi’him, Samuel? Send him to Oxford ? ” “ Thou must ask no questions, Josiah. I’ll have the lad entirely at my own dispo.-al.” Then the two men looked toward Richard, again, hut he had left his seat, and was strolling off toward Saurhain Park. They walked to the window and watched him, and his father lifted the book he hud laid down, and with a mixture of con tempt and indignation threw it aside. At this moment Stephen Broad bent entered the room and said, angrily: “ Father, Dick’s off to Sanrham wood again ; I’m willing enou’ to let Dick play the fool i’ our house, but dang me if he shall meddle i’ t’ squire’s.” “ What do thou mean, Stephen ? ” “ I mean that our Dick an’ Miss Saurhain have goiten some love non sense together. I know it. I tell thee how; Jim Harkness, going home from t’ works has seen them meet iv ery night. Now I ween’t have it.” Father and son were both equally angry and distressed, but this circum stance so favored the rector’a propo sition, that it was eagerly seconded by Stephen, and was regarded as set tled. Then the rector put himself in Richard’s way and met him just at dark outside Saurham Park. He was a man accustomed to look well after his parishioners and their child ren, both temporally and spiritually, and therefore Richard was neither as tonished nor offended when he said: “Who have you been walking with, Dick? Tell me the’truth, my son,” “With Agnes Saurham, sir.” The light of love was still in the young fellow’s face, and the rector could not help noticing how handsome he was. He did not say to him • You have no right, Richard—the young lady is lar beyond your station. Y on are going to make a deal of troub le,” and so on. On the contrary, he praised Agnes’ beauty and wonh, and then showed him how lawfully the squire might refuse her hand to any man until he had done something to prove himself w-orthy of it. “ What can I do, sir ? ” “ i will tell you, Richard.” And then tlie old man took the young one’s arm and talked so sol emnly and so earnestly that Richard caught his enthusiasm, and whatever Mr. Sorley’s plans were, he entered heartily into them. “Ybu shall have every help that money can give you, Richard, only* mind, I will have no love making, and your proceedings shall be kept a secret from all your friends. I don’t want Stephen and Maik running up to see you and meddling in my plans. One thing however, Richard in sisted on: he must see Agnes once more, aud tell her he was going away; and Mr. Sorley agreed to this, on condition that he saw the squire also Tlie first interview was easy and satisfactory enough; Agnes praised his ambition and genius, prophesied all sorts of honor to him, and prom ised to wait faithfully for his return. Iler father was a different person to manage, and Richard’s heart quaked as he entered the squire’s own pecu liar parlor. It was a sunny room, littered with odds and ends of hunt ing and fishing matters; and the squire was sitting on a big, old fash ioned sofa, playing with a couple of thorough bred black Euglish terriers. He said, frankly enough: “Good-day, Richard Broadbent;” but he di<l not trouble himself to rise, for the Broad bent’s had been tenants of Saurham from the days of King Stephen. That in these cotton-spin ning days they had grown rich did not alter their position at all in Squire Saurham’s eyes. Fifty years ago the great landed proprietor did not con sider mouey as an equivalent for good birth; so the squire treated Richard pretty much as lie would have done a favorite servant. “ Miss Saurhain says that thou art going away, Richard. What for lad ? ” “ To study, sir.” “ Yes, yes, ‘When lands and money all are spent, then learning is most excellent.’ I have always heard that; but, lad, thy father has money—why need thou go study ? ” “ Because, Bir, I wish to make a great name, to become famous; then, sir, perhaps, Squire —then —” “ The dickens ! Speak out lad— then what?” “ Then, sir, perhaps you will per mit me to tell you how dearly I love Miss Saurham.” “ No, Richard, I shall never allow anything of the kind. If ’twere Dot for old Josiah I would say worse THE FLORIDA AGRICULTURIST. t ' ri " than this Come, Giddy, come, Rattle, Ve will go to the hay ficld. I hope thy study, Richard, may teach thee to be more modest and sensibl|.” Richard watched the sturdy figure in its greep coat, white corduroys, and buff top boots across the lawn, and then, with a very angry feeling in his heart, left the Hall. He disap peared soon afterwards, and after a lew desultory inquiries from various acquaintances, he seemed to be for gotten. The Breadbeut mills went on as usual, Josiah, and Stephen, and Mark passed to and from them as if their life was ordered by machin ery ; and once a week the rector went up to their house, smoked a pipe I with Josiah* and generally said, as he left: “All is well with Richard, Josiah —very well indeed ! ” - In the fourth year of his absence there was trouble between the mill owners and the operatives. The masters were everywhere threatened, and many mills were set on tire, and the excitement and terror was hardly allayed even when the prominent offenders haid been imprisoned. Their trial w'as one that affected the inter ests of all '•manufacturing districts, and the spacious court house was crowded. Josiah, of course, was present; Mark and Stephen. Now, if tjjere was anything these men had ait almost idolatrous res pect for, it the paraphernalia of the law. TBise advocates in their black gowns, those grave men in their imposing wigs, those wise look ing calf bound volumes, the pomp and ceremony of the sheriffs, con stables, and criers, were to them the most obvious representative of the majesty of English law and power. Concelve*then, their amazement, when prominent among those gowned advocates, giving directions to other lawyers, and demeaning himself as one having authority, was Richard Broadbent. Old Josiah flushed and trembled, and touched Stephen and Mark, who were also too much af fected to do anything but gravely nod their heads. But when the argu ments were over, and Richard Broad bent rose as a special pleader in the matter, curiosity changed to amaze ment and amazement to enthusiasm. Such a speech had never been heard in West Ui|lknA4*dQ£.e.. Jt -was cheeron ana,™eo™o, PUTeveirTrork shiremen’s Idngs were weary. 1 The good rector had his reward when he stood beside \n&protege, and saw the squire and the city magnates crowd around the brilliant young law yer with their congratulations. But far greater was his joy when old Jo siah and Stephen and Mark pressed forward with radiant faces and full hearts. They were not men given to speech, and the happy father could say nothing but,“ God bless thee lad!” while Stephen’s and Mark’s pride and love found its full expression in,“Well Dick, Dick!” But no words could be more satisfactory. The good-for-nothing had found his vocation. Two years after his de parture from lieedshe had been called to tlie bar at IGray’s Inn, ami since then, by his tafit and eloquence had made himself ine of the ackowledged leaders of the Oxford circuit. There was lothing now that his father and bi t hers would not have done lor him, mt he asked just the one thing Jos ih was loth to move in. He wish* I him to speak to the squire about his daughter. Josiah promised, butie was thinking of de puting the bsiness to the rector when the wa; opened unexpectedly. Coming out f Leeds bank he met the squire, w o had a troubled and preoccupied lok. He passed Josiah with a nod, thn suddenly turning and touching him said: “Josiah Broad bent, your hcise and mine have been long friends, h ? ” “ Say that Squire. Broadbents served Saurhdns when King Stephen was fighting 1 r the crown o’Eng land; they ar just as ready to serve them now.” “ I believe , Josiah. I want four thousand ponds. My boy Roger has got into t Juble. I would rather owe it to yoti than mortgage Saur ham.” “Thou cai have ten thousand pounds, twe y thousand, if thou need it, squii, an’ Josiah Broadbent wants no se<rity but Squire Saur ham’s word- ie wor a bad un if he did.” Then Josii, standing there on Market stree laid his bank-book on a bale of wood, aud signing a blank check, put it into the squire’s hand. • The fewest words in such cases are best. With the tact of a true gen tleman he turned the conversation to josiah's son, and finally hesitating a little, said: “ There was some bit of youthful love making between Richard and my Agnes : thou didst not know it belike, Josiah.” “ Yes, that for what he were sent away mainly; but he’s as fond as iv er about her. Thou mustn’t strive wi’ him, squire—love is beyond our ordering.” *• I had no thought of it now. Richard has proved his metal. You may tell him if Agnes 6ays ‘ Yes,’ still, I’ll never be the one to say ‘No.’” *’ Thank you, Squire, it’s a great honor; and if so be you’d niver name the money to the young tin’s, I’d take it kind. That’s between us, Squire; I can’t draw a sword for you as Ru fus Broadbent did for the first Squire of Saurham, but I can draw a check for you, aud I’m proud and glad to do it.” As Richard had secured Agnes’ “Yes ” the future arrangements were easily settled, and within a year love ly Agnes Saurham became Richard Boadbent’s wife, and the squire has had good cause to be proud of the alliance. Old Josiah also, lived to see his son not only one of Her Maj esty’s counsel, but also Member of Parliament for his native city, and a Baron of the Court of Exchequer. Thus the good-for-nothing in a spinning mill was good for an honor able and noble career in a court-room A Parrot’s Practical Joke. In his new volume on the voyage of the Challenger, Sir C. Wyville Thompson relates an incident which may be cited in proof that animals are not destitute of the sense of hu mor. The vessel stopped at the port of Bahaia, Brazil, and some of the voyagers went to Santo Amaro, a town about twenty miles distant. There anew line of tramway had recently been laid, with a sharp in cline to a steamboat wharf. Dr. Thompson’s party arrived in season to take the trial trip on the new tramway. As the truck that carried the party went down the incline, the agonized cries of a child, followed from beneath tfoT wheel* *lCfant/y the brakes were applied, and the truck stopped with a jerk. The scientific party jumped out and looked around and under the truck in vain. A lot of swarthy native children stood near the rails, looking on vaguely and curiously, but not as if anything had happened to any of their number. When the passen gers, mystified, returned to their seats, a parrot, hanging in a cage on the truck, burst into a loud, mocking laugh, and was at once recognized as the performer in the previous scream ing and moaning. Although Dr. Thompson is not familliar with the Bahian Patois, he is convinced that the observations thereupon addressed by the truck drivers to the parrot included some vigorous language. —Bob Ingersoll asked a preacher whether the tatted calf was male or female. “Female, of course,” replied the preacher, “ for lam now talking to the male,” which was considered an excellent sell on the wicked Bob. —Horses have an instinctive love for soft water, and refuse hard water it they can possibly get the former. Hard water produces a rough and staring coat on horses, and renders them liable to gripes. —From Leavenworth comes the terrible story that a man living there tried to founder his mother-in-law the other night by dancing a polka with her until she got thoroughly wanned up, and then giving her all the iced lemonade she could drink. —The New York Medical Record describes a case in which thee was a history of a rib being broken three years previously, and in which a point ed piece of bone was passed through the perinaeum, after causing an ab scess, showing that other bodies be sides needles and pms may traverse the body without casing internal in jury. RECIPES. Useful Recipes. —Keep fresh lard in tin vessels. Keep yeast in wood or glass. Keep preserves and jellies in glass. Keep salt in dry places. Keep vinegar in wood or glass. Keep meal and flour in a cool dry place. Sugar is an admirable ingredient in curing meat and fish. Lard for pastry should be used hard, as it can be cut with a knife. It should be cut through the flour, not rubbed. Crusts and pieces of bread should be kept in an earthen jar, closely cov ered, in a dry, cool place. In boiling meat for soup, use cold water to extract the juices. If tho meat is wanted for itself alone plunge in boiling water at once. Lemon Jelly. —One package of gel atine, add one pint of cold water, juice of six lemons ; let them stand one hour; then add one quart of boil ing water, two pounds of white crust sugar, strain, and put to cool. Orange Pie. —Grate the yellow rind of one fresh orange, take the juice and pulp of two large oranges; add to them one cupful of sugar and the beaten yolk of three eggs; mix one cupful of milk with the whites of the eggs beaten to a stiff froth; bake in puff paste. Egg Bread. —Egg bread is not cheap, but it is good, and young housewives, whose yeast sometimes plays tricks with them, will find it a great resource. To make it, take one pint of milk, two eggs, butter the size of an egg, one-half cupful of sugar, three teaspoonfuls of sea foam, flour enough to make a batter; bake. This makes one loaf. To Cook Tough Meat. —All kinds of poultry and meat can be cooked quicker by adding to the water in which they are boiled a little vinegar or piece of lemon. By the use of an acid there will be considerable saving of fuel as well as shortness of time. Its action is beneficial on old, tough meats, rendering them quite tender and easy to be digested. Tainted meats and lowls will loise their bad Igpte-tind odor if cook tt and if’not towel too Ireely, no tasTe of it will be acquired. Favonte Meat Pie.—' Take cold roast beef, or roast meat of any kind, slice it thin, cut it rather small, and lay it wet with gravy and sufficiently peppered and salted, m a meat pie dish. If liked a small onion may be chopped fine, and sprinkle over it. Over the meat pour a cupful of stewed tomatoes, a little more pepper, and a thick layer of mashed potatoes.— Bake slowly in a moderate oven, till the top is a light brown. This makes a very good dish, and is a very great favorite with parties who do not usu ally like meat pies. Beef Soup. —For a common soup secure a beef soup bone or shank, and add to it the bones of your waste beef left over. Boil four hours—all meats for soup to be put in cold wa ter. We take two potatoes, one car rot, one turnip, two onions, a piece of cabbage; chop fine and add these 7 U V,T ,]? our before dishing up. We add half a teaenpful of rice, with pepper and salt, about the same time. Boil constantly, keeping tightly cov ered. Our biench neighbors add flavoring spices and herbs, but we like a plain vegetable soup, an d never Jail of having a spicy one. Don’t use too much meat. Gem Tarts. Bake some light sweet gems after the usual fashion only they are prettier to be round! When they are nearly cold, take a very sharp pointed knife and cut the crust. around and separate the two hah es, breaking them across the cen tre. Have ready some fresh hot ap ple sauce, beaten up lightly or strained, as for marmalade, and put one mee heaping spoonful on each half of the gem. Set as many as you wish in a baking tm, put a stewed raism in the centre of each, sprinkle a little desiccated cocoannt over them, and set them in the oven to brown slightly while the dinner is being served. Serve warm. It makes a plain but pretty desert, and one almost always available, while it requires but little time in its prepar ation.