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.