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J. F. WALLACE, PUBLISHER - AND- PROPRIETOR Published at Winslow, Arizona. Advertise—and save tne sneriu the 1 trouble of doing it for you. The Sait Lake Herald prints g poem entitled “It Wasn't Him.” We suspect, then, that it was he. The father of waters is just recover ing from a prolonged tear; he ought to be confined to his bed now for quite a while. The telegraphic market reports say that “salted codfish are sluggish and in active.” This probably is due to the way in which they are cut decollete. An 8-year-old girl and a 12-year-old boy are said to have eloped in West Virginia. They probably may easily be identified by the dollies they carried along. A New York woman 79 years old got married the other day “because the spirit told her to do so.” After this she should use nothing but rectified spirits in her business. A Boston paper suggests that the strets of Chicago could be cleaned by turning the Chicago River through them for flushing purposes. Boston , doesn’t comprehend the Chicago River. When Simonides offered to teach Themlstocles the art of memory, he , answered: “Ah, rather teach me the art of forgetting; for I often remem- ] ber what I would not, and cannot , forget what I would." The ancient English prize fighter, Jem Mace, has arrived in this country, . but it is difficult to see what attracts him here at this time. Mace belongs ] to an age long since past, when fighting was not done with the jaw. ■——— The attractiveness of the French cap ital was never better shown than by the case of a young American lady who would not take medicine for a cough. She didn’t wish to get rid of It, she ex plained, because she got it in Paris. Little Greece may be coerced by the greater European powers, but she seems to have more real pluck and courage than all of them combined. Bhe has given Europe the greatest ob ject lesson It has had in modem times. The British Museum is not as sleepy an institution as might be supposed. It has arranged for the publication of a portfolio of thirty-two facsimiles from the earliest printed books in Its col lection. The rush for such a literary treasure will probably surprise the museum trustees. As the Ice in the river which no force can displace melts and floats away un der the warm and penetrating rays of the sun, so the cold estrangement which so often follows an offense, and which is so hard to unseat, melts away almost unconsciously under the benign Influence of candid confession. The Alabama Legislature talks of confining the carriage of firearms to citizens “of good moral character and possessed of a reputation for peace and quiet,” who have S2O with which to pay for a license. There might be some people without the requisite S2O, but it is safe to say that no freeborn citizen of Alabama would be deprived of the contents of his pistol pocket by reason of character or reputation with out Indulging in some unlicensed pistol practice. When you are convinced that a paper Is dishonest and deceitful, stop It. When convinced that it is unclean, stop It. When it lacks enterprise and falls to give you the news, stop It. But don't stop a paper that you believe to be hon est, courageous, enterprising and clean slmpy because its editor has written his own sincere views instead of yours or somebody else’s; for if you do, you are putting a premium on insincere Journalism and serving notice on an editor that the way to succeed is to write what he thinks will best please his readers instead of what he honestly believes to be the truth. ‘The Rock,” which is the organ of the ultra Low Church party in the English Church, cordially agrees with the Pope’s decision against the validity of American orders. It says that, as a matter of fact, the English Church at the Reformation did reject the sacerdo tal idea of orders which is taught in the Roman Catholic Cllurch. This would indicate that the Low Church men in the English Church intend to use the Tope’s decision as an excuse for breaking away more completely than ever before from the traditions of Roman Catholicism. If so, a renewal of the controversy between the High and Low Church parties may be looked for. A story which tries to identify Os man Pasha with Charles A. Crawford, who deserted the Confederate army in disgrace thirty-three years ago, is go ing the rounds of the American press. The story was first started in 1878, when Osman Pasha made his famous defense at Plevna against the Rus sians. It obtained great currency at that time and many believe it to this day. There is no ground for this iden tification. Crawford, it is true, left the country and is supposed to have taken service in the East, as did several other Confederates at a later date, but it lias been firmly established that Osman Ghazi was born at Tokat in Asia Minor In 1832, and that he entered the mili tary service in 1855. It would be fit material for the novelist to connect the cowardly deserter of Bull Run with the hero of the matchless defense of Plevua, but unfortunately it cannot be done and adhere to the truth. Solon made a law forbidding men to speak evil of the dead, for it is pious to think the deceased sacred, and just, not to meddle with those that are gone, and politic to prevent the perpetuity of discord. He likewise forbade them to speak evil in the temples, in courts of justice, the public offices, or at the crimes nr else tn nav three drachmas to the person and two to the public. ; For never to he able to control p:n sion shows a weak nature and iil-hroodirg and always to mod rate it is very hard, and to son e 'mpr.srible. An ! laws must look to pos-Jollities 1 maker designs to t t >h few in l id r to their amendment, and n* t u ,;i no purpose. It has been commented upon as ;• >“ *•* . what strange that in the year of mas sacre in Armenia no man of that eoi.u try has risen to the stature of a hero, gathered around him a band of his countrymen and. if nothing better, died fighting. There is much to account for the submissiveness of the Armenians, and if their men have given no con spicuous evidence of valor, the Ar-, nieniau women have afforded ample proof of heroism. On several occasions, when resistance was hopeless and j when confronted by the alternative of Islam and worse or death, they have welcomed the latter by throwing them selves from lofty rocks or into rivers. There have been and there are heroines among the Armenian women. A sailorman or marine who comes aboard his ship drunk is let alone if he j minds his business, goes forward, and goes to sleep. The quiet man will prob- ; ably receive no further punishment than to have his liberty restricted for a time. But if he announces as soon j as he gets to the top of the gangway ladder that he is able, willing, and even eager to massacre and to do up all hands on the ship, he immediately finds himself in a peck of trouble. No where can a man who is hunting for fight find it so quickly as on the spar deck of a man-of-war. Marines, who have no manual work to do on a ship, j like an occasional stint of violent ex- ! ercise, and they gloat over a chance like this. The drunken sailorman is man-handled with a swiftness that makes his head swim, although he will often stay w r ith the game until he has knocked out the whole first attacking party of marines. A few welts over the head with the shank of a bayonet do the work for him, however, and he is i carried, howling and struggling, to the brig, up In the eyes of the ship on the j berth-deck. If he Is particularly vio- j lent he is chained to a stanchion. It would be well for the public to j keep cool about Cuba and commit some useful data concerning the island to memory. The greatest length of Cuba i from east to west Is 700 miles, and its | greatest width is 135 miles. Its area, including dependencies. Is only a little less than that of England. Cuba had 1 in 1894 1,031,696 inhabitants, 05 per I cent, of whom were white. The cap ital must have a population of more than 200,000, since ten years ago its inhabitants were estimated at 198,000. It is a powerfully fortified city. Next in population to Havana comes San- j tiago de Cuba, with more than 70,000. ; Puerto Principle has nearly 50,000. Here is a country which would afford scope for many campaigns to an army j better organized and led than that of Spain, more especially as the island has a mountain chain which affords innu merable fastnesses for guerrilla hands. These facts and figures should be borne in mind by those who wonder at the duration of the war and the tremendous i exertions Spain is making to get at close quarters with the elusive insur gents, who know far too much to risk a pitched batle in the open. Each side has a literary bureau that manufac tures fakes in quantities to answer the demand for news from Cuba. As a matter of fact, it Is difficult and dan- ; gerous for business men in this eoun- ! try, with interests in Cuba, to learn the state of affairs otherwise than by word of mouth from somebody recently from the scene of action, the censorship of the Spaniards making it perilous to in trust to the mail anything relating to the operations in the field unless it be eulogistic of the Spanish side. Golf. One of the great advantages of the game is that you can play and have good sport even if there is no one to go around with you. You can try to beat your own best previous record, and, if possible, to lower the best score ever made by anybody over the course. If you succeed In this last, you will have gained the proud distinction of holding the “record for the course.” Another good modification of the game is the "foursome,” where there are two part ners on each side, striking alternately at the same ball. But the ordinary match Is against one adversary, and there Is no reason why a girl may not play an Interesting game against her brother. She may not be able to hit the ball quite so far, but once near the hole, where accuracy and not strength is required, she should be able to hold her own, and it is an old saying that many a game is won on the putting green. Or, again, she may be handi capped by an allowance of so many strokes, and in golf, as in billiards, handicapping does not detract from the interest as it does in tennis. There is no fun playing tennis against a very much weaker opponent, for you win rather on your skill, and this is fatal to true sport. Large Enough. A foot traveler through one of the hilly regions of Ireland came one day to a curious little cabin, so small as to seem hardly fit for human habitation. While she was whimsically considering as to whether it might be the abode of tlie famous “good people,” about whom so many loving superstitions cling, the figure of a short, stout old man emerg ed from the cabin and stood confront ing her in smiling silence. After salu tations had been exchanged the travel er laughingly told the old man that she had half fancied his dwelling the home of the good fairies. "No, lndade, ma’am, but it’s a good warm place, God bless it.” replied the old man with a genial smile. “But surely you cannot stand up in It?” the traveler said. “An’ fwlmt nade to sthand, ma’am?” returned the owner of the tiny house. “Shure, an’ Oi can come outside to do that same, an’ whin Oi’m inside it’s me self that can aither go to bed or lie down, ma’am!” There was such a warmth in the smile with which this cheerful philoso phy was propounded, that the traveler , was not disposed to pick flaws in it, and smiled in acceptance of its truth. Young man, stay with your mother as ■ long as you can; you cannot deceive anvono else. BABY HAS GONE TO SCHOOL. The baby has gone to school; ah, me! What will the mother do, With never a call to button or pin, Or tie a little shoe? How can she keep herself busy all day, With the little hindering thing away? Another basket to fill with lunch, Another “good-bye” to say, And mother stands at the door to see Her baby march away; And turns with a sigh that is half relief And half a something akin to grief. She thinks of a possible future morn, When the children, one by one, Will go from their homes to the distant world, To battle with life alone, And not even baby he left to cheer The scattered home of that future year. She picks up the garments here and there, Thrown down in careless haste, And tries to think how it would seem If nothing were displaced. If the house were always as still as this, How could she bear the loneliness? MOTHER LOVE. The flaming red of the evening sky •was paling into violet shadows. Night came upon the earth, over the little vil lage, and the lonely house near its bor ders. Dark shadows crept into the low, old fashioned windows. They painted the whitewashed ceiling a somber black, and filled with gloom the narrow angles of a room In which an old woman sat bending over her knitting. Not a sound was heard save the mo notonous click, click of the needles, and now the whirr of the clock just be fore the striking of the hour. “Eight o’clock! It is night. Before long he will be here.” A sigh relieved the breast of the gray-haired woman. She pushed aside her knitting and set the smoky little oil lamp going. This she placed near the window that the light might greet the wanderer on his fiome-coming, and then took up her knitting again. Three years had gone by. It was au tumn now, and the old woman sat in the self-same place near the big warm stove, waiting for the return of her ! only son. I'esterday he had been re leased from the army at the expira | tion of his term of service. But the ! night passed, and then a day and an other night, and still her son came not. j Almost a week went by, full of tedious waiting. One day at noon the postman j rode up to the little house in the | meadow. “A letter, Mother Ivatlirine, a letter from your ‘only one’!” he cried. He recognized the stiff, ungainly charac ters of the absent peasant lad. Mother Ivathrine fortified her eyes with her old horn spectacles and hob bled with her letter into the broad strip of the noonday sun that came stream ing through the small window. The ! wrinkled hands trembled, as she broke the seal. Is he coming home at last? No, not yet! On the wom-eaten bench the old 1 • Is |y|3u •* l ~ i - WITH A BOUND IUE MAN KNELT AT HER FEET. woman dropped, clutching the letter which was soon soaked with the tears that rained from her poor old eyes. No, her lad was not coming! He may never come again. He was locked up In a prison cell because he had killed a man In a drunken broil. “Mother,” he wrote, “I am innocent. I don’t know how it happened.’ ’ Yes, she knew. First a boy’s rejoic ing, because he was free to go home, then a spell in the tavern over the wine cup—a quarrel, insulting remarks, j , fierce, angry blows, a knife, and then, murder. Yes, she knew! Three more years to wait! At the I end of that time his sentence would have expired. The trembling lips never complained. The wrinkled hands reso lutely wiped away the tears. Mother , Kathrine arose, put on her Sunday , bonnet and her friendless mien, and , went to see her relations in the village. She told them, hesitatingly at first, and then glibly enough, that Jano, her . only son, had shipped as a sailor on a big man-of-war and was making a trip around the world. The relations lis tened to her tale with astonishment, and praised the lad’s courage. Soon the ' whole village knew it. The women , came and congratulated her, and she, simple woman, turned dissembler in : her old days for the love of her son. I Mother love must shield him from disgrace. The villagers must never know that .Tano was a murderer. No, nor Katha, his sweetheart, who loved ’ him and had been true to him, count ing the days till his return. • In the night, when the villagers slept, • Mother Kathrine sat weeping before ' her Bible, and prayed for .Tano, her - only son. Another care presented it > self to the ever-tlioughtful mother “ ; heart. Jano must have new clothes - when he returns, and money—his sav ings from his long journey. And she began to save and stint to pile up a lit tle store of silver. Like most women ’ of her age. Mother Kathrine was fond ‘ of the sugar in her coffee, but from now on she drank it unsweetened. All day 1 and half the night she knitted socks for ’ a large concern in the city, and every I week she carried the humble product i of her industry to tlie store for the small, hard-earned pay. Nobody ever ’ saw Mother Kathrine at these things, . for nobody must ever know, for Jauo’s i sake. Thus, the time sped by. Three years u j —and this was the day that would bring him home. The old woman e opened the cupboard and took from within a package of warm, woolen r socks, a knitted kersey, a pair of new . boots, and a large silk neckerchief. These things she laid out on the white pine table. From under the pillow of s her bed she added a coarse linen bag, 1 such as sailors carry, filled with clink ing coin. Thirty silver dollars! The I little fortune had grown apace, and Mother Kathrine chuckled with glee whenever she thought of her boy’s sur prise. Bread and ham, sausage and butter, and a mug of cider made the old pine board look like a Christmas table. Ev erything was in readiness—Jano could come! On the bench by the stove she sat waiting, straining the half-deaf ears to catch the sound of his footsteps. It came. The door opened slowly. As if stricken with palsy, the faithful old mother sat glued to her seat. The tall form of a man, stooping as he en “WHAT IN GOD’S NAME DO YOU WANT HERE?” tered, stood in the moonlight that came with him through ffie door. Two dark eyes looked into hers out of a white set face. The mother’s arms opened wide. “Jano!” With a bound the man knelt at her feet and buried his head In her lap. Jano, her only son, had returned! *** * * * Mother love had banished the peni tentiary specter. The villagers wel comed him cordially. The lads who had grown up with him took him to the tavern, and demanded that he tell them of the strange sights he had seen during his long absence. Jano related what he had heard others say, and what lie had read in hooks. It was like gospel truth to the young men, who had never been twenty miles away from their village. After the first days of greeting Jano hired out as a farm hand and worked untiringly. In the evening Katha, his sweetheart, came to the little house, and the three sat together and made plans for the future, when Katha and Jano would be man and wife. Soon Jano forgot the ugly past. It seemed like a dream that had nigh wearied Mother Kathrine and her son to death. One sultry afternoon Jano came along the dusty turnpike with his rake over his shoulder. Toward him trun dled the bent and ragged figure of a man. A tramp, thought Jano, then stopped suddenly, pale as death. The beggar, too, made halt, when he saw Jano. “Halloo!” cried he, with a sneer, “my mate from No, 7. Don’t you know me? Lanky Jake, your old cell-mate?” “What in Cod’s name do you want here?” stammered Jano. The beggar laughed. “Picking up what I can get—don’t you see?” Jano put his hand in his pocket and took out a dollar. “Take that,” he said, “and go away. Don’t go to the village, and don’t tell anyone that you know me!” The ex-convict pocketed his coin. “Ashamed to know me, hey?” “Not that,” said Jano, with a shud der. “But they don’t know here that I’ve been In prison. I’m leading an honest life.” “I’d like to do that myself. Have no fear, I’ll not tell ’em. You were good to me in those days!” He laughed and hobbled away. Jano stood still and looked after him till he disappeared from view. “The storm has passed,” thought Jano and hurried home. He had scarcely turned when a good looking young jieasant, who had watch ed the scene between the two, emerged from behind a thicket and hastened after the tramp. That night in the tavern over glass upon glass of fiery wine and silver coins piled up to the height of five, the handsome young farmer learned from the tramp jano’s secret. He was Jano’s rival for the love of Katha, the pret j tiest girl in the village. The next even ing Jano, as was his wont, hastened to Katha at the end of his day’s labor, to bring her to his home for the chat un der the apple tree, and the walk back through the blooming fields. This night Jano looked into a pale, distress ed face, and eyes, frantic with fear, were riveted upon him. “Katha!” he said. “You are crying. What troubles you?” Katha buried her face in her hands and sobbed aloud. “Katha, tell me, your lover!” He lift ed the hands from her face. “Jano,” faltered the trembling lips, “by our love, tell me, is It true, that you have not been around the world, but have been in prison the while?” Jano was horrified. "Katha —who told you?” The girl paid no heed to ills question. “Is it true Jano?” she reiterated. “Yes!” From the finger of her right hand Katha took the little gold baud with “WAIT OUTSIDE UNTIL WE BREAK THE NEWS TO HER.” which she had plighted her troth to him. She threw it at his feet and left him. "Katha!” Jano did not rave. The blow stunned him and the loss of the girl seemed small when he thought of his mother. “Poor mother! You have hungered, and tortured, and stinted yourself for nothing. To-morrow everyone will yell it into your face that your son is an ex convict, and your old days will he filled with shame and misery. Poor moth er!” The night was unusually dark, not even the stars came out. The crickets chirruped in the corn to lighten the gloom. The splash of the river was eery and sad. and from away off there came a shrill cry of anguish. In the dawn of the early morning a little procession wended its way to- | ward the village. Two men carried a stretcher, over which a black cloth was thrown, outlining a human form. Be hind the bier strode the miller and the justice. "I don’t know r how he got into the mill pond, but when we found him he was stone dead. He must have come down with the current in the river.” “I wonder,” said the justice. “I’m sorry for the old woman,” con tinued the miller. “To be taken from her like this, after waiting so many years for him!” “Yes, poor old Mother Kathrine!” reiterated the justice. They reached the little house. “Wait outside,” said the justice, “till we break the news to her!” The sun was on its upw’ard way. The sky was aflame with red. Its reflex licked the tiny windows, swished over the white pine table, and over the face; of old Mother Kathrine, who sat with folded hands in her armchair. The small white head inclined upon the breast. A sweet, peaceful smile hov ered around the pale lips, only the wide-open eyes w'ere glassy and set. She had been spared the blow'. On Horseback. One must travel on horseback in Ice land, as there is no other method of transportation in that roadless country. Even the bridle paths are remarkably simple in their construction. Bridges are a rarity, and the general methods of crossing a stream are by ferry or swimming. The houses are partly of earth and partly of stone and have a turf roof, which in summer time is so green that it can scarcely be distin guished from tlie surrounding fluids. Timber work is seldom to be found. Iceland being a woodless country and the cost of transportation from the sea ports being very great. Wooden houses are only found in the two principal towns. The Icelandic house, however, Is no hut, but possesses intricate in teriors, and is sometimes quite artisti cally arranged, though more frequently it is little more than an earthen bur row, low’, smoke-stained and filthy. A good deal of the interior dirt is due to the fact that the houses are mostly built without fireplaces. For the ae- | commodation of their sheep and cattle the farmers have small turf w'indow less houses, erected a short distance from the residence. The stables have no stalls, and the horses move about as they like. Generally speaking the farmhouses are built close together, each farmer requiring a large grass walk for liis flocks, which sometimes are very numerous, and for hay for the winter store. The Icelandic agricultur ist cares nothing for gay colors, and his house is always painted of a som ber gray or a dark red. Cereals can not be grown with any success in this country, the only native grain being a wild sand-oat, from which an eatable kind of bread can lie made. In addi tion to grass, which is the principal vegetable produce of the country, little else is grown beside potatoes and tur nips. Did Not Hold His Peace. I attended a mountain wedding in McDowell County in West Virginia, said a postoftice inspector. Everything went along smoothly at first. The cabin was brilliantly lighted with candles, and one of the best fiddlers in the coun ty was present to furnish music for the dance to follow the w’edding cere mony. Nothing occurred to mar the proceedings until the minister came to tlie point where he invited any one who had anything to say w'hy the cou ple should not enter the bonds of mat rimony to speak or thereafter hold his peace, when a rough mountaineer arose and said: “Anything ter say, parson? Waal, I reckon I hev. I l«ev alius intended ter marry thet gal myself, an’ tliet feller knowed it, so he jess kept outen my w T ay. I sent Mm word ter prepare for a lickin’, an’ he lef the country, but kep' a wrltln’ to the gal. Now, I’m here to make my word good, an’ ’fore this liyar event goes any farder the taller-faced coward jess has me ter fight.” In vain the preacher tried to restore order. A ring was soon squared in tlie center of the room, and the men went at it. In about ten minutes the groom announced that he had enough, and : the victor, taking tlie arm of the blush- I iug bride, deliberately changed the ; groom’s name in the marriage license to his own, while the vanquished lover made his escape. Everybody appeared to be satisfied, and the marriage took place as though nothing had occurred to mar the solemnity of the occasion. Jenny Lind’s Last Appearance. “The last time Jenny Lind sang in public was on July 23, 1883, in the Spa, Malvern Hills, England, writes Mrs. Raymond Maude, daughter of tlie i “Swedish Nightingale,” in the Ladies' j Home Journal. "The concert was in aid of the Railway Servants’ Benevo lent Fund, and indeed was a red-letter day to the country folk who came from all the country round with the modest i eighteen-pence which secured them | standing-room. On one of my walks, during tlie last sad week I helped to nurse her, 1 found an old woman in a remote cottage who eagerly asked for the ‘good lady who was so i!l up there." Upon finding who I was she assured me that it would have been worth even more stinting and a further walk to have had such a treat in her old age as that s’nging.” Lived in Goat-Hair Tent 9. Rupshu. a district on the north slope of the Himalayas, 15,000 feet above the sea level, and surrounded by moun tains from 3,000 to 5,C00 feet higher, has a permanent population of 500 per sons who live in goat-hair tents all the year round. Water freezes there every night, but no snow falls on account of I the dryness of the air. The people are shepherds and dress in pajamas and a long cloak, wearing an additional cloak in unusually cold weather. Not So Slow. Menelik's capital will soon have all the attractions of Paris. The Negus has ordered trom a Meiningc-n artist a panorama of tlie defeat of the Italians. j A woman does not care how cold she | is, if only she doesn't look frozen. TOPICS FOR FARMERS A DEPARTMENT PREPARED FOR OUR RURAL FRIENDS. When and How to Plant Corn—Beet Sngar as Food for Stock—Mistake of Covering Seeds Too Deeply—Clean Out the Grain Fields. The Corn Crop. The corn should be planted w’hen the soil Is warm and moist. Have the ground mellow and rich. Put the corn in with a planter, and drop 200 pounds of some good corn fertilizer In the hill. Bone phosphate or dissolved bone, either will answer. If the sod was plowed last fall, the cut-worms will be killed by the frost. Spring-plowed sod should have a dressing of coarse salt, two and one-half to three bushels to the acre. Fish or bacou salt will do. Sow’ the salt broadcast after the first harrowing, and cross-barrow it in. The young cut-w’orms and the larvae of the -worms will be killed by the salt, and the salt will also benefit the corn. When no salt can be used, and there are many worms, harrow and roll the field once every five days, and plant the field the last of the month. Tlie hot sun and the constant stirring of the ground will kill out the worms. Plant corn on well pulverized sod. If you plant on fallow or thin soil, and have little manure, spread the manure broad cast as far as it will go. Harrow it in well, and then j>ut the corn in with a little phosphate In the hill. If the manure is very coarse, it should be plowed under not more than four inch es in depth. It will not pay except In a small way to manure corn in the hill. Phosphate alone will not bring a crop of grain where the field is destitute of vegetable matter. Beet Sugar for Stock. In the beet sugar producing sections of France low-grade sugar has become low enough in price to make a cheap stock food; but experiments made by Prof. Malpeaux show that it will not do for dairy cows. In repeated tests, the addition of sugar to the ration caused the cows to lay on flesh with out increasing the yield of either milk or butter a particle.—Massachusetts Ploughman. Coverine Seeds Too Deeply. The mistake iu spring planting that is most common is covering the seeds too deeply. It is a good rule to put only twice the depth of the seed in soil over it. This with some very fine seeds means merely sowing on finely pre pared seed bed, when they will natural ly fall into the depressions, and then pressing the soil over them. The root naturally strikes dowm for moisture, and a very slight hold ou the surface, so as to give the young p'ant light and air, is best for Its early growth. There are usually plenty of rains In spring, so that some soil will be likely to be washed over surface-sown seeds, and this is better than any way of covering them by cultivator, harrow or drag. Even the smoothing harrow is apt to cover small seeds too deeply. Gross and clover seeds are sown early euough so that alternate freezing and thawing does the work of covering better than man caR do it Grain Fields. Go through the grain, walking be tween the grain drills, and cut out the rye, cockle, garlic and other weeds. This should be done early, before the wheat heads out. An acre can be gone over In an hour. Clean grain is worth several cents more per bushel. Oranne and Lemon Trees. The youug oranges and lemons raised from seed last year should be trans planted into larger pots. After trans planting, water Immediately, and set the plants in the shade in the green house for a few days, until they are well rooted. Seeds of the best oranges and lemons may now’ be sown in boxes of good garden soil. Sow the seed about five inches apart and two Inches deep, and cover with fine earth. Set the boxes upon the ground, partially protected from the hot sun. The soil should be kept moist. Fruiting orange and lemon trees should not be set out before the 20th of the month, when the weather becomes warm and set tled. Set the trees partially In the shade. From six inches to one foot of the top earth in the tubs should be taken out and good garden soil put back. Wash the Leaves off and water every two weeks each tub with one gal lon of weak manure water.—The Amer ican. Summer Forage Crop*. Corn is tlie best soiling crop. Oats, peas and barley, sown early in April and the first part of May produce a rich feed for all stock, especially for milch cows and young pigs. In a moist season the crop will be a heavy one. It is valuable for rich clay beans. Sandy or gravelly soils are too dry and hot. Plant corn in drills lain two and a-half feet apart. One bushel of corn and GOO pounds of bone phosphate will plant an acre. One acre, grown on rich ground, in connection with pas ture, will feed twenty-five cows for a month. Make four sowings—the first about the 10th, the second about the 25th of May, the third on the 10th and the fourth about the 25tli of June. Dwarf Apples. Dwarf apple trees, as objects of orna ment, as well as luxury, are scarcely less valuable than the pear. They need but little space, come into bearing im mediately, and a small plantation of them will supply an abundance of fruit of the finest quality. Their Importance for small gardens and suburban grounds has been altogether over looked. Shallow Tillage Beat. All tillage of crops should be shal low. The time to go deep Is when the ground is plowed in the fall. Deep tillage of a growing crop serves no good purpose whatever, while It is very Injurious to the plants. It is folly to move the soil in which the roots of a plant are growing unless it is desired to check the growth of the plant What is needed is intelligent shallow tillage. After every rain the crust that forms on the surface must be broken up, and any Implement that runs one or two Inches deep will accomplish that pur pose. During a drought the surface of the soil gradually packs and forms a crust, and hence surface or shallow cul tivation is as necessary as after a shower. Shallow cultivation will de stroy weeds quite as effectively as deep while it can be done with less than a fourth of the labor. The time to de stroy weeds is just when they appeal above the surface. Thorough tillag* includes the destruction of all weeds as soon as they appear. Neither weeds nor grass of any sort should be allow ed to rob the soil of one atom of its fer tility. This involves watchfulness and labor, but not hard labor if the righi kind of tools are used and used in time How Much Tile Per Acre? There are two extremes in tile drain ing. The beginner is apt to think tile drains are only needed where watei stands on the surface In hollows, and has to be drawn off. But when this is done, it leaves the soil in these hol lows so much dryer and better lilted for cropping that the farmer sees that even the uplands, that had been sup posed dry enough, need draining also. Usually the first drains are put in too shallow. That, if continued, means a large useless expenditure for tile. No where should underdrains be dug less than three feet deep. They will then drain perfectly two to two and a nail rods on each side of the underdrain. The soil will hold so much more water with a deep drain that it will not re quire larger size than will a shallow one. Care for Tranpp’anted Trees. Thousands of dollars are every year w’asted by neglect of proper care for trees that have been transplanted. The most common cause of this is in the idea that plenty of w ater applied to the roots can be made a substitute for frequent cultivation. Newly trans planted trees really need little water on the soil. The roots of newly planted trees cannot at once begin to supply plant food from the soil. They need time and contact with moist soil, but not too wet, before new rootlets can put forth. To keep the soil sodden with water while the roots are in this semi dormant condition is to rot them. Less water with thorough surface cultiva tion, to keep the surface soil loose and prevent rapid evaporation, is what is needed. If water is applied it should be In moderate amounts, and often by spraying so as to keep the buds from withering until the roots can supply them with moisture. Swine Notes. The true secret of profitable breeds is in the feed and care given them. Health is the first thing for the swine breeder to look after. The healthy hog makes the best gain and gives the most profit. See that the young pigs get plenty of exercise in the sunshine and that they have a dry place to sleep. Wet bedding and damp sleeping quarters are a fruit ful source of diarrhea in young pigs. The hog Is but a machine to convert corn and other food Into pork, and pork brings what we are most iu need of—money. If the hog Is a machine, and we are going to keep some of these machines for use, w r e surely want the very best attainable. With right management a sow’ should produce two litters of pigs each year, and two, or three sows will usually sup ply all the average farmer will care to feed and fatten. With care in breed ing and in fostering these can be so dis tributed that some will be preparing for the market at all seasons. Sorghum has been fed to pigs with success. At the Arkansas station sor ghum stalks, when filled with sugar, were fed with no bad results, but on the other hand quite favorable returns. At the Wisconsin station skimmlngs were fed fi'om the evaporating pan with fair success to pigs. All runts are not born runts, but many have their runtiness thrust upon them. In his early life a pig will go backward or forward very easily. Al most every pig will make a good pork er If started right. Give the runt a lit tle extra lift. A little boiled milk sev eral times a day sometimes works won ders. Poultry Point*. A fresh egg has a llmellke surface to Its shell. Examine the droopy hen. It Is prob ably lice and Immediate attention is necessary. Scatter lime broadcast over your yard. It is a splendid thing for both young and old fowls. Too much soft cooked food is not good for fowls. They need some em ployment for the gizzard. Keeping poultry with success Is not a difficult feat to perform; the chief re quisite is common sense. Don’t try to keep all the different va rieties of poultry. Two or three varie ties of the best are plenty. Overfeeding is expensive. It not only costs more for feed, but the hens get too fat and lay no eggs. One good thoroughbred fowl can of ten be sold for as good a price as a doz en poor ones and cost no more to raise. Clean up and disinfect all feed and w’atering troughs. This Is especially necessary If wooden troughs are used. The gizzard of the fowls masticates the food, but this can only be done by the aid of sharp, gritty material. Be sure this is supplied. Don’t fall to whitewash the house outside as well as inside. It adds to the appearance and really is as much benefit as the inside work. Broken bones are often more highly relished than when ground. A hen will sometimes refuse hone meal and yet will readily eat broken bones. Feather pulling is the most perni cious of all vices. The habit usually comes from idleness and can generally be prevented by keepiug fowls busy. If the ground around the poultry house door gets muddy in soft weather, throw coal ashes for a few yards from it so the hens will have dry feet all of the time. Justice in South Africa. Some idea of justice as it is adminis tered in Johannesburg, South Africa, may be derived from the following se lections from a newspaper which has just been received from that portion of the Dark Continent. One of them reads: “A cab driver named Cornellis, convicted of driving a couple of female passengers out of town and assaulting them, was ordered to pay a fine of £SO or undergo four months of hal'd labor.” The other is as follows: “Hermann Chio Chlssin was to-day mulcted in the sum of £SO for selling a bottle of liquor to a Kaffir.”