CHRISTIAN IN ESSENTIALS, UNITY; IN NON-ESSENTIALS, LIBERTY; IN ALL THINGS, CHARITY. XXXIII. SUFFOLK:, YA„ FRIDAY JANTJA^Y 3, 1880. Number d. |)oetrg. WRITE THEM A UTTER TO NIGHT. A curtain young man who does not Hvevy/fur fron\ the Bum office has nffSgflktg*} to write to his mother for some time. Recently bo received a letter Addressed in bis mother’s hand writing, within was nothing but (he following poem. Read and see what yon think that mother thinks of her son. Don't (O to the theetrs, concert or bsll, But slay in four route to-night, Deny yonrseir to the friend! thnt call, And a good long, letter write— W rite to the ltd old folks at homo, Who alt when the day is don«, With folded hands ami"downcast eyes, And think of the absent one. Don't selfishly scribble, "Excuse my haste, Sr the time! to write," ding thoughts go wandering bat*, •y gone night— t their needed sleep and rest reath was* prayer id leave their delicate babe ier love and care. - [ Don't let them feel that you've no more need Of their love or counsel arise, For the heart grow* strongly sensitive When age has dimmed the eye— It might be well to let them believe YoUBever forget them quite: That you deem it a pleast re when far away, Long letters home to write. Don’t think |hat the young and giddy friends Who make yonr past time gay, Have half the anxious thought for you That the old folks hate to-day The duty of wrifhu do not put off, Let sleep or pleasure w Jr. Lest the letters for tdfii j , - ; longed __ V ngliill, Rector. Will Paul’s Ubtrrcii, StfiToil uingand aU-to'4 in looked and Im< Church.—Rev, ,is CREAM OF THe —One by one come In) desolate da**. It is only to day tit'toucheth »1,AA I ore thee I w on thy ti.ee. Ldok straight Some guiding rays shin path. Go on with praisi that thon canst see.— Wi _When a young mam to wait, ho has mastereile hardest lesson in life. Few truljeain, but ka who does has gal' the light Gladden. s learned X of the fundamental pti iowledge of all lat all success, an'd need uoe‘*tn»l other things necessary be added to him. —There are a great many dead weights in all our churches—people who add nothing to their spiritual ac tivity or their strength in any direc tion. They are barnacles on the boat. They clog the voyage they are sworn to help. What we want is, not more fruit iu the garden of the Loidf^Cut better fruit; not more names on the charch regisi holier hearts among the peopli Interior. -Mr. Moody, in jhis late at Treraot* Temple, told a incident or a lady who hei come ont $8 a convert lest be debarred from going to tre. But Mr. Moody assn red lieifchat she might jg anything that dif not interfere with giving her sapOme love to Christ; and she came oit fi lally on the Lord’s side. Soon (iter , jbe want to the theatre, b| t inaead of any enjoyment in it shaiou adher er so tw ’’bled iCkst. tV ion!e'not stay through, and she afterward de clared that the whole thing was so changed, and looked so different from what it had formerly seemed that she had.iio relish for it whatever. Aud this is bnt a common experience of theatre-goers who become hearty and earnest^ Christians.—Congrega HonalUt. —It seem .to me nature designs very few people to be scholars, but when so man& make a failure oTlife we are greatly surprised aad say they had a good education when in reality it was, for them, the worst ed ucation in the world, because they were not fitted to do their work. The result of education should be to ele vate one’s uses, bnt sometimes stu dent himself reminds one of the cheap woodeu box in which his books are packed. We certainly have different capacities for assimilation of mental food, and I ftink that to be gifted with a tenacious memory and <t brain tjtat is not constructive, and a little bMrt that. will always be poor and have nothing to give is a most mel ancholy statemf6--affairs. There is a certain kind^^ „ ■'N^r, which if ft jbiser v?i|| knon MR. MOODY AND THE INFIDEL. Mr. Moody in one of bis recent ser mons at Cleveland, gave a most in teresting account of the conversion of a sceptic to Christianity. He was in a little town in Illinois, a number of years ago, and bad just commenced the ^raud work which has since swelled into such glorious volume. “I could not preach,” be modestly said, “but could get up little meet ings and talk. At the close of one of these meetings, a lady came to me and said, ‘Mr. Moody, I wish yon would come and see my husband, and talk with him about his soul.’ I consented, for the seemed greatly burdened, and asked for his name. When 1 beard it, I said, ‘you must excuse me; I can’t go to see that man, he is a booked infidel, a gradu ate of the Eastern colleges, and I am a mere stripling, I can’t go and meet him.’ *1 would like yon to go, Mr. Moody,’ she replied, ‘and talk to him about bis soul.” ‘You bad better.” said I,‘have some one who is older; I can’t meet him in argument.’ ‘It is not argument tye wants',” said she, earnestly; ‘he fias bad enough oi that; what he needs is SOME ONE TO INVITE HIM TO CHRIST. She pleaded so bard, that I went down to see him. I went to his office, and after shaking hands and introducing myself, told him my er rand. He laughed at me, and said I had come oh a foolish errand—that he did-net believe in Christ or Chris tianity, or in the Bible. I talked to him awhile and brought out some of his infidel views. Finally I said, 'Judge, 1 will be honest with you; I can’t meet you in argument, but there is oue favor I would like id re quest of you.” “VVhat- is that t” he asked. ‘That when you are convert ed, you will let me know.’ ‘Well,’ said be, ‘I will grant you that re quest,’ and with a good deal of sar casm he repeated, ‘I will let you know when I am converted.’ As I went out of his office I heard the clerks snicker. They thought, no doubt, I had made a great fool of my self. “A year aud a half after I went back to that city. I was the guest of a frieud, aud while one day in the sitting room, a servant came in and said there was a man in the parlor who wished to see me. It was the old Judge. “When I saw you last,’ he said, ‘I told you^ when I was con verted I would let you know, aud 1 have come to toll you that I am con verter!.’ I said, ‘Judge, I wish you would tell me the whole story.’ He took his seat aud said, ‘Well, I will tell you. My wife and children had gone to meeting oue night, and there was no one in the house but the ser vant and myself. I got to thiuking, and said to myself, suppose my wife and my children are right aud I am wrong. Suppose they are all on the way to heaven as they profess to think, and I am on my way to hell. I just dismissed that thought at once. The next thought was, Judge, do yon believe there is a God who created you t Yes, I believe that. This world never happened by chance. Then came the thought^ if there is s Creator, and one that created yon the one that created you could teach you. ‘Well,’ be said, ‘that is so; the God who created me could teach me.’ Aud he smiled and said, ‘The fact was, Mr. Moody, ’ I ’’THOUGHT NOBODY COULD TEACH ME 1 I sat there by the fire; I was too proud to get dowu on my kuees. 1 said, “O God teach me I’” It was an honest prayer. And if there is an honest infidel anywhere to-day who will make that prayer out of the depths of his heart, God will teach him more in five minutes than all the infidels can teach him in twenty years. “He said God began to teach him, and he began to see himself in a dif ferent light. He had been, in his own estimation, one of the best men that ever lived, ‘but now,’ said he, ‘1 began to see myself a sinner.’ That was something new. He felt a bur den upon him, and things began to look dark. Fearful that his wife might return and see that something ailed him—that he was troubled, he went to bed and pretended tor sleep. But he did not sleep a wink that night, aud before morning he began to pray, ‘O God save me! take away this burden—this load of sin 1’ But he said he didn’t believe in Jesus Christ; he didn’t WRnt any daysman between him aud God ; didn’t want any mediator; he was going straight to the Father; sfcras i settle the question without But the load gr greW darker. “Yf fceu the gPpiiii*' Geoige Id that to the to his wife ho was not feeling very well, anrl would not stay to break fast. He wanted to get away, and went to his office. All the time he kept on crying, ‘O God, 'take away this burden.’ At his office men came to see him on business, but he could not do any busines. He tried to tell his clerks what to do, but could not tell them. He told them they might take a holiday. Then he locked the door, got down on his knees and cried, ‘FOE JESUS SAKE TAKE AWAY THIS I.OAD OF SIN !’ He said a bundle rolled off wlieu he arose from his knees, and his heart was as light as air. Said he, ‘1 won der if this is not what my wife has been praying for these years—if it is not what the Christians eall conver sion I Ho started for home. His wife saw him coming, and thought he was coming home sick. She met him at the door, and said, ‘My dear, are you sick ?’ He looked up and said : •No, I have been converted!’ ‘Mr. Moody,’said the Judge, ‘twenty-one long years that wife had prayed for me, and she could not believe her ears when I told her I was converted. She said : “Come into the drawing room.’’ There 1 knelt down, aud made my first prayer with my wife, and, Mr. Moody, I have had more en joyment in the last three months, than in all the rest of my life put to getlier.’”—Christian at Work. HOW HE LED HIS YOUNG FRIEND TO CHRIST. [a the workshop o' a certain man, who never troubled himself about the Christian training of those commit ted to his charge, there were two ap prentices of very different charac ters. One of them, brought up at his uncle’s, has learned from him to sanctify the Sabbath. It was his joy on this day to go to the house of God and to seek edification by the study of the word of God and religious books. He was also distinguished by a pious aud God-fearing life. -The other? the sou of a well-to-do mechan ic, had seen his father lead a careless and godless life. He never troubled himself about God aud eteruity, aud devoted himself wholly to the pleas ures of this world. Sunday was to him nothing but the day when he could devote himself without inter ruption to these pursuits. On Mon day he was full of the pleasures of his Sunday, aud often vexed his pi ous associate with his profane and taunting remarks. The latter, see ing that his friendly words of advice were of no avail, said nothing but only prayed in silence for his misgui ded friend. Once wheu the latter was making fun of the other’s Sab bath-keeping, the other, while they were at work together, related to him in a meek and loving way, several ex amples, showing bow swearers and gamblers and bad husbands had been so chauged by attending to the word of God, that they became an honor and a blessing to their families. He warmed up with his subject as he proceeded. Then he went on to speak of the persecutions and sufferings en dured by the apostles for Christ’s sake, and exclaimed with deep emo tion, “O how can we despise God’s precious word, in which he reveals to us his wonderful love! I wish you eacffU havu seen my father on his dy iuf^bed, aud heard him, as he said to me, ‘My child, ever love God’s word. Search the Scriptures. Follow him as long as you live. Then, like me, you will live happily aud die peace fully.’ I shall never forget his last words.” The memory of his father made the young mau very earnest, and after a moment or two of silent meditation be remarked that for some time the other went on with his work iu si lence. He was impressed by the change in his manner, and at once suspectiug the cause kindly said to him, “Will you go to churgh with me next Sabbath?” He answered, “Yes.” The Sabbath came, and the two friends went together to theliouse of prayer. The solemn air of the place aud the devout songs of prnise made a deep impression upon the young man, who had not been iu a church for a long time. And when the min ister read the text, “How shall we escape if we neglect so great salva tion 1”—aud spoke of the danger of the sinuer aud the blessedness of those who are saved, pressiug the subject with powerful words upon the audieuce, su'd exhortiug them not to make light of the salvation v^feich is inOlrfist, and not to despise I id heaven, be could what was going ou ^egan to weep aud ■eeting he went to ptl, to dine, but he enter into the light conversation of the family. An ar row bad-eutere<l his heart, which made it impossible for him to laugh. They thought he was sick ; but he hastened to his fellow-apprentice to tell him of his anxiety. Ho met him mast affectionately, and led him to Christ and to the divine word. His burdened conscience was comforted by the promises of Scripture. From that day he became a new mau, faithful in all the duties, both of his temporal and spiritual calling. His conversation now became a bless ing to his companion, who was in Christ before him, and the word of God was the light upon their path. The above narrative shows how the quiet influence of the young man, serving God, may prove an incalcula ble blessing; and how a good man, ‘‘being dead, yet speaketh,” aud brings souls to Christ.—Religious Herald. ZEAL OF CONVErlTED HEATHEN WOMEN. Miss Deah, writing from Oroomiab, Persia, says: “The work most encouraging to me is, that women are beginning to work for women. The pastor of the GeogTapa church thiuks he could not carry on his churce work without the help of the women. In the church membership of 150, two thirds are woraen^ Mrs. Shedd, writing of these same Women, says: “Hot one of these one hundred women is al lowed to be a drone in the hive. They divide the whole village, and each one takes as her special charge, more or less, those outside the church. For these women they labor and pray, as they find opportunity, at least once a week. On Friday they meet aud talk over the interest of Zion, the pastor usually with them. Recently they chose six of the best women as deaconesses. Among these the church members are divided, so that each one has her own charge. They help the weaker sisters, in struct the ignorant, guide them in their efforts to extend the kingdom o( our Lord, and last, but not least they settle all quarrels among the womeu. A few Sabbaths ago lour ot the womeu came to the pastor, say iug : ‘If you approve, we wish to go, two and two, to Yetrash, aud other uear villages, to teach aud help the womeu on Sabbath.’” Mrs. Shedd went to Degala, a village, uear Oroomiah, not long since, to assist in the interesting meetings they were having there. The pastor of the church at Geog Tapa was present, and in an elegant address told them of the women’s work in his church, giving some touchiyg incidents con uected with their labors. “The Degala womeu,” says Mrs. Shedd, “are deeply interested; some wept aloud, and then arose to express their desire to ‘go and do likewise. When their pastor asked those who were willing to work for Jesus to raise their hands, every one respon ded. He then organized them lor work after the manner of the Geog Tapa women. The zealous work of these converted heathen women should greatly encourage Christian womeu at home, who are working for their advancement.—Presbyterian. SCENES IN MOROCCO. Oil every side, as you travel through the country, you cannot help noticing the fertility of the laud. Delicious fruits grow almost wild in great abundance—oranges, pomegran ates, apricots, peaches, quinces, al monds, viues and fig trees. Wide fields of grain wave before yonr eyes, as surely they would not, were it not that the soil barely needs to be turn ed over; for, through all the centu ries since this coast was first cultiva ted, not one particle of improvement do the indolent people seem to have made in theirajumsy methods. When a native farmer fiuds ho cau no lon ger sit in the sun and postpone his ploughing, if he is to have any crop a donkey and a goat or a cow and a mule, or any other creature (including his wife) that will pull, aud harnesses them to a plow, which would be a fine curiosity for one of our agricultural fairs, siuce it is simply some sticks of wood bound together so that the sharply pointed end of the main or haudle piece is dragged along a little under the sod. Yet we must not forget that much nearer home a like lack of progress is seen, for, in parts of Mexico, an al most exactly similar excuse for a plow has been used for three huu years, aud may, perhaps, be used for three huudred more. Wheu the caravan reaches a tpwn of considerable size, a stop is likely to be made for some days, in order to allow trading to be carried on. Hut busiuess is uot permitted to worryj the traders mnoh, and, between *jnr -5 "snwfaj* -coabun. 3 •Kl tlmns u many u any ID Mommnnd by ft tat.- £_. A11 3ft and by ftO »bbllih«dbyt.ji_Ci«u5 - ■ entertainments of the village people and the recreations at the camp, the stranger will not lack for amusement. It is to this race, it is always to be remembered, that we owe the Ara bian Nights’ tales. Of these stories, onr translations contain only a selec tion, aud as you sit and sip your coffee, tea or lemonade iu some little cafe of whitewashed stone, you hear the old plots aud familiar names, and many new romances of the same kind, told by men who do nothing else. These tales form the treasure of a very numerous class of men and women throughout the East, who And a livelihood in reciting them to crowds never tired of listening. The public squares of all the towns abouud with such men, whose recitations, full of gestures and suggestive looks, hold a circle of silent listeners spell bound with the pleasing pictures their imaginations conjure. It is said that the physiciau frequeutly recom mend the story-tellers to their pa tients iu order to soothe pain, to calm agitation or to produce sleep; and, accustomed to talk to sick folk, they modulate their voices, soften their tones, aud gently cease as sleep steales over the sufferer. Quite the opposite of this quiet and dreamy amusement, which takes the place of our theatres, are the shows of the snake charmers, who every where collect penuies from admiring groups. They sit on the ground and tjandle the serpents iu every way, al lowing them to coil about their arms, necks, and bodies, and dart long, for ked tongues almost into their faces, while one of the group hammers a tambourine as though his life depen ded on it. I cannot conceive how this so-called music has anything to do with the wonderful control exer cised over the snakes by the juggler; I.should thiuk they would grow cross, rather than be “charmed’’ by its in cessant discords. —Ernest IngersoJl. THE CALL ANO NEED FOR BETTER TRAIN ING IN ENGLISH. Within a short time, people have partially opened their eyes to the de fects of a system which crams with out traiuing, which spends its strength on the petty or the useless, and neglects that without which knowledge is but souudiug brass aud a tinkling cymbal. Voices have been raised which command attention. At least oue school committee and one board of supervisors have moved in the right direction. At least one college has increased its force of in structors and its number of courses iu English, aud has done what it could to stimulate the schools ; aud one president of a university has gone so far as to say, in an oft-quoted sentence: “Imay as well abruptly avow', as the result of my reading and observation iu the matter of ed ucation, that I recognize but one mental acquisition A an essential part of the education®of a lady or a gentleman,—namely, au accurate aud refined use of the mother tongue.’’ We should, however, not bind our selves to the fact that the tefortu has only begun. What a recent article in The Saturday Review says of England is at least equally true of America: “A large proportion of ^ar fellow creatures latorllmler tfuThal lucination that they could _ aray, or " they chose to take the trouble.” They are like the man who told Charles Lamb that he “could write like Shakspere if he only had a SdLto.’’ “All he wants, you see,’’ Lamb, “is the mind.” The scepticism on this poiut which used to pervade the high places of education still haunts the low ground aud must be extirpated before a healthy stale of feeling can exist. So long as people thiuk literally skill easy of acquisition, they will be un willing to have their children spend time iu acquiring au accurate and re fined use of the inpther tongue. To reuder the movement iu favor of those tilings which make for good English of much practical utility, it must spread widely and penetrate deeply ; every school committee must insist that, whatever else is done or is left undone, a serious effort shall be made to teach boys aud girls to use their native tongue correctly aud iutelligeutly ; all our colleges must put English upou a par, at least, with Latiu and Greek, and must prove! their students with ample opportun ties for practice iu writing and speaki jug the langnago they will have use all their lives. If the school. the colleges do this work. *>> well, a short time willy- AUo’ a fme parents to a BougSjfl importance t**r. how twfimss™* U9» as great aa the f ary "tl#r aeri J of OlctUH!*- . - rwr THOUSAND 'COPIES here been i i> thfpublle ichooiTof the U.8. «ow is the ti They must be s no28~4t For sALlk old—a spU }a1so, another s| second-hand T Spring \V agon l of which will t \ Apply to | J|[arm and jftre3ii(. •j j GOOD FENCES. Fences are still the fashion, ami will, we suppose, remain so for -geu jerations to come. He it so; they suit somo districts best, whether stock are to be fenced in or out. Per | haps nothing not directly connected j with tillage ha# so much influence ou | the prosperity, peace anil order of a 'community as the fences. If the fen ces are good, there is prosperity and j good order ; if they are bad, property is unsafe and society often disturbed. A neighbor who habitually keeps sorry fences is a public nuisance. He does not prosper himself, and he ruins the character of all his neigh bor’s stock that runs at large. If he shoots or maltreats stock for getting to his crops over bad fences, he make enemies, and renders intercourse be tween his family and other families unpleasant. He loses in a pecuniary and social way much more than good fences would cost him. It is plain that there should be good fences or none. It is a public necessity—one that the law has re cognized aud made provision for— but which, like many other laws, is not enforced as it should be. Every farmer has an interest in all the fen ces of his neighborhood, and he ought to let his example and counsel bo found on the side of good (ences. There is room for much improvement in the fences of our State. There are numberless fences t*at are absolutely unsafe; some are “high, safe and strong ; and occasion ally* we see one that is not a repulsive object in the landscape. Hut the number of neat ly kept, attractive l'euees is remarka bly small. Too often a wide border of briars, thorns, trees and bushes marks the line of the average fence. They become a wilderness for the harbor of vejmiue and “varmints.” It should not be. Besides the great waste in land, they are unsightly and extremely awkward to repair. It does not show' well for the good man agement and taste of the farmer; such fences rot down sooner; they are sooner destroyed in case of tire ; and they are generally unsafe for turning stock, especially hogs, as ma ny a small break and weak place is hid from the eye of the farmer that; hogs are sure to find. There is need ■ of reformation in regard to the fen ces. Let us have good ones or none : let the public sentiment demand it: aud let each individual farmer resolve to have as good fences as any of bis neighbors. It will be a vast^stride toward the good times we are alb striving for.—Rural Messenger. WATCH YOUR BIRDS. Keep a good watchful eye to your birds and for tlieir comfort and well being, aud they will amply repay you for your care and attention. A care less or indifferent persou is sure to lose, during the,season, many a flue aud valuable bird, aud often the breed is condemned as being so lia ble to sickness aud disease as to be practically valueless, when the reai blame for the undesirable result should be attached to the careless owner of tf#Jbirds. In the fall of the pr''there is always more or less sickuess amongst poultry, on account of the sudden changes in tempera ture, from warm to cold, aud the pre-1 valence of warm days and cold, damp i eveniugs aud nights. If the birds | are not carefully housed and protec- j ted, they are apt to contract some of! the disorders incident to poultry, and : then the breeder has to pay for his neglect. Doctoring sick fowls is gen erally very unsatisfactory, for it is dies before the remedies applied cau be made to reach and cure the dis so apt to iufect. the other members of! the flock that it is generally best to I kill the sick fowl aud thus save the j rest from infection. Cures may be! good enough ; but theu preveutativesj in the shape of good care aud mau-j agement, beats them every time.— American Poultry Journal. Ckeau Toast.—Take two quarts of milk, put a part of it iu a spider and set it off the stove to warm. ht or ten slices of bread, ^JKiem in the warm milk to soften j^Bkthem .toast dish and too often the ease that the sick bird ease. Aside from this, a sick bird is | “M 6a3 * hne lot of Horses iust e l0t aro wv*«l very fine mares. otof*JLES. GGORGE NUliNEY. » SIX years m animal ; * splendid *•% a good op-BOog , ar.d al >e gold It ^tew Linen may be embroidered by rubbing it over with corner Washing* »19 “ soap; it p re roots crackiug. the Flrtrrr~TA"ii1 ,A law supply of Gem and ti^IU V‘L'n, Ja'‘’- <lUHr^ and aud tor sale low at - WEBB’S ABKBT BA A K K E T. BaSKJS [■k-Every housekeeper sho"* Of these useful artiolr “ niarket house ©a M >f heus will pay for them tbeiy are one year old, if *ily cared fee. little eoap to the hinges kdoowcnafc'imr^T French P a n • C a k es.—Ingre-# dientsr: Two eggs, one-half pint milk, twoounees granulated sugar, two ounces butter, floor and jelly. (1) beat the butter and sugar to a cream ; beat the eggs separately, the yolks to a cream, and the whites to a troth, aud add the yolks to the butter and sugar ; (3) stir the milk into these ingredients; (1) butter six tin pie plates; (5) sift two ounces of flour with a tea8pooufnl of baking powder, aud stir it quickly into the ^above named mixture, with • the whites of the eggs; put the butter quickly up on the buttered plates, and bake the pan cakes brown in a quick oven ; (6) dust them with powdered sugar, lay themoue over the other, with a little jelly betweenjdust the top with sugar, and serve them hot.—[Juliet Corson. How to Measure the Height of Trees.— When a tree stands so that t he length of its shadow can be measured, its height can be readily ascertained as follows: “Set a stick upright, let it be per pendicular by the plumb-line. Meas ure the length of the shadow of tbe stick. As the length of its shadow is to the heigth of the stick, so is tbe lengt h of the shadow of the tree to its height, l'or instance : If tbe stick is four feet above tbe ground aud its shadow is six feet in length and the 0 shadow of the tree is niijety feet the, height of the tree will be sixty feet; (G: 4: : 90: 60.) >fn other words mul tiply the length of the shadow of the tree by the height of the stick, and divide by the shadow of the stick.” Fob Weak Eyes.—Bathe the eyes in soft water that is sufficiently im pregnated with spirits of camphor to he discernible to the smell,—a teaspoouful of spirits of camphor to a tumbler of water. For iuflamed eyes use milk and camphor, adding a lit tle more of the camphor than above. Au excellent lotion, commended by a leading Boston oculist, is a solution i of 10 graius of borax in the officinal “canplior water (not the “tincture of camphor.”) Th^i is safe auc} benefi cial as an application in any slight weakness or inflammation of kite eyes due to exposure or weariness. In se rious cases professional advice should always he taken. \ .. To Soften Hahd Watbb.—Take two pounds of washing sod* and one pound of common lime, and boil in live gallons of water for two er three hours ; then stand away to setfl® »nd dip off the clear water from the top, - and put into a jug. Can be used for washing dishes or cleaning, and one teacnpl'ul iu a boiler of clothes, pat in after the water is hot, will whiten the clothes and soften the water, without injury to the hands or clothes. I use au old iron pot to make it in. To Tell a Horse’s Age.—“Af ter a horse is nine years old a wrinkle comes in the eyelid, at the upper cor jier of the lower lid, and every year thereafter he has one well defined \vriukle for each year of his age over uiue. If, for instance, a horse has three wrinkles he is twelve; if four, thirteen. Add the number of wrmk Keeping sheep is pleasant and profitable if attended to properly. A\ ool is a sure thing every year, and brings cash. It has its ups aud downs, but let any man make up his mind that uone but his wife or his administrator shall sell his wool for less than fifty cents per pound, and he will come out all right. Every man should be his own overseer. His eye should scan the whole area of labor and no detail should escape his obversation. He should commend the'deserving and reprove the lazy. So far as possible he should lead and not drive. It is essential that leather should have light. In the care of harness do not enclose in a dark closet or room. Of course harness should be oiled three or four times a year, first washtug with soap and water. .A. slow milker makes a cow imps* tient, which causes her to hold up lie milk. The strippings are the riches part, and if a cow is milked quietly as well as quickly, there will be more,’ as well as richer milk.

Page Text

This is the computer-generated OCR text representation of this newspaper page. It may be empty, if no text could be automatically recognized. This data is also available in Plain Text and XML formats.

Return to page view