THE CHRISTIAN SUN.
IN ESSENTIALS, UNITY ;
IN NON-ESSENTIALS, LIBERTY;
IN ALL THINGS, CHARITY.
Volume XXXIII.
SUFFOLK, VA., FRIDAY APRIL 9, 1880.
Number 15.
LINES.
BY BEV. H. B. HAYES.
Original.
How cheerless ii the piece,
Without Thy pretence, Lord,
The tokens of Tby lore and grace,
The comforts of Thy word I
But when Thy face we see,
How brilliant erery line,
How quick the shodows flee away,
How bright Thy glories shine.
And when this heart lies still,
The pulse doth cease to beat,
The opening scenes of glory will
The deathless spirit greet.
Will open bright the heavenly day,
On that celestial shore.
And clouds of sorrow pass away,
And will return no more.
And then to our immortal King,
Amid the seats of heaVen,
The shining hosts His praise shall sing,
And endless honors be giTen.
election^,
here and there.
—Be graceful if .you can, but if you
can’t be graceful, be true.—Dr. Ar
milage.
—The young lady who can make a
boast of her ignorance of all house
hold duties should be allowed to be
come an old maid.
—He is a church member, but has
not been to prayer meetiug during
the past year. He did not have time.
He belonged to six different “socie
ties,” and they look all his nights.
—Joiniug in the amusemeuts of
others is, in our state, the next thing
to sympathy iu their distresses, and
even the slenderest bond that holds
society together should rather be
strengthened than snapt.
—One who prides himself that “1
am a'plain blunt mau, who always
say what I mean,” and accordingly
goes about saying all things at all
times, without regard to courtesy,
discretion, or Clyistian kindness, is
not a model of fraukuess, but rather
a social pest.—8. 8. Times.
—Friend or enemy, it is important
to know just where your acquuiutau
ces stand. We have a great deal of
sympathy with the western hunter
who “observed” that “the rattlesnake
is a square, honest reptyle, that lets
you know when he means to resootn
business and gives you time to step
ha^k.”
—um i'hiueus xtice was oue ot tue
quaint types of itinerant Methodist
preachers. He had a hard patch Xo
cultivate once, ana when he made his
report to the Conference foliowiug,he
reported the church “looking up.”
The Bishop presiding expressed his
pleasure, but asked for an explana
tion, because no oue expected success
in that parish. Bro. Bice was equal
to the occasion, and added, “Well,
Bishop, the church is on its back, and
can’t look any other way.” There
was a roar of laughter all over the
Conference.—Ex. and Citron.
—The Covenant remiuds Col. Iuger
soil who tauntingly says that “the
preachers in the United States cost
us $12,000,000 every year,” that the
lawyers iu this country cost the peo
ple about $71,000,000, aud the crimi
nals $40,000,000 and that the liquor
bill amounts to about $60,000,000.
According to this there ure some
things which cost a good deal more
than the preachers, among which is
the profession of which Col. lugersoll
is a member.
—There is great meaning in the
words that Jesus was continually us
ing to describe the work that He did
for men’s souls. He brought them
into “the kingdom of God.” The
whole burden of His preaching was
to establish the kingdom of God.—
< The purpose of the new birth for
which He labored was to make meu
subjects of the kingdom of God. Is
it uot clear what it means t The
kingdom of God for any soul is that
condition, anywhere iu the universe
where God is that soul’s king, where
it seeks and obeys the highest, where
it loves truth and duty more thau
comfort aud luxury. Have you en
tered the kingdom of God t Oh, how
much that means. Has any love of
God taken possession of you so that
you want to do His will above all
things, and try to do it all the time t
Has Christ brought you there! If
He has, how great aud new and glo
rious the life of the kingdom seems.
No wonder that He said you must be
born again before you could enter
there. How poor life seems outside
that kingdom I How beautiful aud
glorious inside its gates I
SUCH AS I HAVE.
BY WILLIAM NOBBIS BUBB.
“It just makes me sick at heart
whenever I think of poor Mrs Stiles!”
exclaimed tenderbea,’ted Mrs. War
ren, as she turned a tea cup in a pan
of hot water before her, and then pro
ceeded to wipe it dry.
“Any new trouble, Sarah I” asked
her husband, us he turned the news
paper he bad been reading.
“No, I don’t know as there is: but,
dear me 1 I don’t see how the woman
could live if another drop of hardship
should come to her. Husband in the
insane asylum; her ouly daughter
just dead, leaving those two mites of
children ; oue son with all that he
can do to get bread for his own fami
ly ; the other sou in Texas or some
where ; not a cent hardly' to spend
for herself, as I happen to know. I
just think it’s too bad ; and if ever
there was a deserving creature in
this world, Mrs. Stiles is one.”
“That’s true, Sarah ; but what cau
we do for her I Silver aud gold we
have uoue, you know, but such as we
have I am sure 1 would be glad
enough to give her, if I only knew
what we could give that would help
“Silver and gold wouldn’t come
amiss, l’in pretty sure,” rejoined the
good wife. “I can’t tell any more
than you what we’ve got that would
do her any good ; but she shan’t lack
for a comforting word once in a while.
I couldn’t sleep last night, just ior
thinking of her.”
There is a power of good iu a little
thing sometimes,” remarked Uncle
Jacob, who had been listening atten
lively to the conversation. Uncle
Jacob, as he was called by all the
NVarreu family, was Mrs. Warren’s
only brother, who recently had re
turned to their Ohio home after hav
ing lived several years iu California
and Colorado. “That winter I was
down in that Colorado mining camp,
shut in there with all those rough men,
I thought wore of a letter from the
folks at home than I did of silver or
gold; and once when I get one from
Mary that had one from Willie iu it,
I just went away from the men and
cried. You see, when Willie louud out
that his mother was writing to me,
he wanted to write a letter too; sj
Mary gave him a piece of paper and
a peu, and he went to work to write
papa a letter. Great work he made
of it, to be sure, for he wasn’t three
years old; but Mary sent it just as
lie folded it, and I tell you that piece
of paper, all blotted and crumpled,
was worth morr to me than a bank
note; aud’uo bauk note could buy it
Tears came to Uic eyes of more
tliau one member of that household,
lor Uncle Jacob’s wile and baby
Willie both bad died the previous
year.
Nelly Warren wiped her eyes, and
leaned forward to stroke the cat, at
tempting at the same time to choke
back a sob. Pussy jumped into her
lap, and the little girl sat a long time
stroking the sofi, fur and thinking.
“And the King shall answer aud
say unto them, Verily I say unto you,
Inasmuch as ye have done it unto
one of the least of these my brethren,
ye have doue it unto me.”
This was her “quarter verse.” The
teacher of the Sunday-school class to
which Nelly belonged gave to each of
her scholars on the first Sunday of
every quarter a verse, the teachiug
of which she desired the scholar to
apply specially to her character and
life during that quarter. Nelly had
at once memorized her .verse, and
was on the alert for opportunities of
doing something for Christ by help
ing people about her.
“lietnember, Nelly,” her teacher
bad said to her, “that Christ takes
note of every little thing; aud if you
can do nothing more thau speak a
kind word to a schoolmate, or glad
den some heart by the gift of a flow
er, if you do it for him he will accept
the service as done to him.”
“What can I do for poor Mrs.
Stiles!” was the qnestiou she was
tryiug to answer, as she sat there al
most unconsciously stroking the back
of the drowsy cat.
The question was still unanswered
when the clock announced her bed
time ; but as she went to her room
she said to herself: “I’ll go and see
Mrs. Stiles to morrow, aud I’ll ask
the Lord beforo I go to show me
what I can do to help her.”
* n # • * *
“Mother, may I use the new scrap
book you gave me yesterday just as I
want to t”
“Why, I think you may, Nellie, of
course. I got it for yon to keep those
clippings in you think so much of.
Don’t yon want to use it for that!”
“That’s wbat I intended to do, but
I have a new plan now. When I
beard what you said last night abont'
Mrs. Stiles I thought I’d like to do
something to bring a little sunshine
into her life, so I stopped there just
now on my way home from school,
and I asked the Lord to show me if j
there was anything I could do for her
and I think he answered my prayer
right away. When I went in, Mrs.
Stiles wks reading a letter she’d just
received from Bob Masou. You know
she always thought a great deal of
him, aud he calls her ‘mother’ when
he writes to her, and she says his let
ters are a great comfort to her! aud
he always sends her some little poem
or some other good thing he has cut
from the papers, ami you know bow
fond she is of such tlriugs. In the
letter she got to-day, he sent a little
poem about ‘Trust,’ and she said it
did her so much good she was more
willing than ever to put her hand iu
God’s baud aud let him lead her.
Then she showed me a little box with
a good inauy scraps in it which Bob
had sent to her; aud she said since
she had been obliged to give up the
religious paper she had taken for
years, she just reads over and over
those clippings Bob sends her, and
now some of them are getting quite
worn. I thought, if you’d let me,
I’d till that big new scrap-book about
half lull with my clippings, and give
it to Mrs. Stiles, and she could have
the other half for those she gets from
Bob Mason. It wouldu’t be much to
give to some folks, but she thinks so
much of these things, and she misses
her paper so.”
Uncle Jacob had qorne iu from the
barn while Kelly was eagerly making
her plan known, and as she stopped
for her mother’s approval of it, which
she felt sure would be given, he
said :
“We’ll all putin the whole evening,
Kelly, on that scrap-book, aud if we
find good things enough we’il fill the
book full. I guess Mrs. Stiles ought
to have a scrap-book just for those
things Bob sends her. We’ll get it
for her iu some way.”
Ko household iu the laud could
have beeu happier that evening than
were the Warrens. The table was
left standing in the middle of the,
room alter the supper dishes were
cleared away, and about it were gath
ered Mr. aud Mrs. Warren, Uncle
Jacob, aud Kelly, all interested in
filliug the scrap book. Nelly brought
the book aud her little box of clip
pi:;goj Alia Warren brought out au
otlier lot of scraps which bail been
accumulating lor several years ; while
Air. Warren brought down trout an
old chest up stairs a pile of old pa
pers which had been laid awaj
months before, “because it seemed
too bad to destroy such papers.’
Piora the scraps already cut, Mrs.
Warreu and Nelly begau at once to
make selections and to paste the cho
sen ones into the book, while Air.
Warreu and Uncle Jacob searched
the papers for such tid-bits as they
all knew would delight the heart of
their unfortunate neighbor.
It was late when the book was All
ied, “but it’s been a good work for
as,” remarked Uncle Jacob. “I’ve
got hold of some thoughts myself to
night that I guess will help me to be
a better man. This work’s done me
good, Nelly, if it never helps anybody
jlse.”
The next morning Mr. Warren and
Uncle Jacob went dowu to the vil
lage, and wheu Nelly came in from
school in the afternoon she saw on
the table three new scrap-books.
•This one is for Mrs. Stiles to use as
she may wish ; that one Uncle Jacob
bought for his own use; and the
nther father bought far you,” ex
plained Airs. Warreu.
When Nellie took the two scrap
books to Mrs. Stiles’ poor little home
the good lady had gone to a neigh
bor’s house to tea, so she wrote a
note, and left it with the books just
inside the door. When she returned
from school the next day the follow
ing note awaited her:
Dear Nellie: How did you
knew I have been hungry for weeks
for just the things you brought me
last night! L can’t thank you, but
the Lord will repay you in some way,
for I am sure he considers it a gift to
himself. May he in all your sorrow
send you comfort as you have com
forted me. Come and see me very
soon.'
Your loving frieud,
Caroline Stiles.
“I think,” said Nellie, as she refol
led the note, “the Lord has taught
me that I must not wait to do some
jreat thiug for him, but that he is
pleased and kouored when I give
irillingly and cheerfully such as I
jave.”— S. S. Times.
Nothing costs less, aiul nothing
purchases as muck, as a kind, res
pcctful, courteous and agreeable treat
neat to others.
SAVED FOR GREAT PURPOSES. I
One night in a small (own in the
north of England, a clergyman’s i
house caught fire. ’ The fire burnt so i
fiercely that there was only time for I
the family to run for their lives, i
Some of them were scorched and ;
burnt as they escaped. But one
child, not quite six years old, was
left in the house. The light Irom the
fire woke the little fellow up. He
jumped out of bed aud ran to the
door, but the flames drove him back.
Then he cried for help. His father
heard, and tried to get up the stairs
to him; but could not force his way
through the fire. The father thought
his poor son was lost, he must be
buiut to death. But he knelt down
and prayed to God Tor him. The lit
tle boy ran to the window, mounted
a chest that stood under it, and cal
led to the people below. Somebody
saw him, andshouted, “Fetch a lad
der !” But there was no time for
that; the fl’ames had seized the roof
and it was plaiuly about to fall in.
So one man leaned against the wall,
and another stood on his shoulders
to reach the boy down. The boy
leaped into his arms and was saved
“a braud plucked from the burning
1 dare say most of you know who the
little boy was. It was John Wesley,
God had a great work for John
Wesley to-do, aud he kept him alive
to do it.
Two boys were fencing—that is
preparing to fight with swords as
though they were soldiers. They had
real swords with a button^ at the
point of each, to prevent their hurt
ing one another. One of the buttons
broke, and the sharp sword ran
through the side of one of the boys
and nearly killed him. But it just
missed the most dangerous place,
and the wounded lad by aud by got
better. Another time the same boy
swimming in deepwater; the ribbou
which tied up his hair got loose aud
caught his leg. He struggled to free
himself, but could not. Qe was
about to sink, when the ribbou loos
ed itself, and he was safe. Another
time, when he had grown up to be a
young man, he was swimming in
the river ltbine, wbicb is a very
broad and rapid river. He did not
notice where he was going, and soon
got into the very midst of its strong
current. He said : “The water there
was extremely rough, and poured
along like a galloping horse.” It car
ried him on till he struck against the
strong timbers upon which a mill was
built. The steam forced him right
under the mili, and he became quite
insensible. When he woke up, he
found himself in a piece cf smooth
water the other side of the mill.
Some men helped him on shore. He
had been carticd five miles from the
place where he plunged into the
water. Yet he was net hurt iu the
least. The person I have just told
you about was Johu Fletcher, one of
the holiest men that ever lived. He
became a great friend of Johu Wes
ley, did much good as a minister of
the gospel, and wrote some very use
ful books. God had work for John
Fletcher to do, so he would not let
him die.
Perhaps you have never been iu
such danger as Moses and Johu Wes
ley and John Fletcher were. But you
must remember God keeps you alive
every day and every hour. Any day
au accident might happeu to you, or
you might be takeu ill and die. God
keeps yon alive, and guards you from
all harm, because he has work for
you. Will you ask him, “Lord, what
wilt thou have me-do!” And will
yon try to live so that wheu you see
what he wants you to do, you may
be able to do it 1 But remember, the
very first thing God wishes in those
who serve him, is that they love him.
And then, though he may not give
you quite as grand and well-known
work as he gave Moses, John Fletch
er, aud John Wesley, you can all be
as holy. And God will find yon the
work you can do best.
Hying Words.—Ir is probably
natural that at the last the scenes
which have made the strongest im
pressions in life should be recalled by
memory. The old mouutaiueer, when
he comes to die, with his last whisper,
says his snow shoes are lost; with the
stage driver he is “on the down grade
anil cannot reach the brake ; the min
er cannot get to the air-pipe; the sail
or says eight bells have souudeil; aud
the gambler plays his last trump. A
little girl died a few years ugo, and, as
her mother held her wrist and noted
the faiutiug aud flickering pulse, a
smile came to the wan face, aud the
child whispered : “There’s uo more
desert here, mamma, but all the world
is full of beautiful flowers.” A moment
later the smile became transfixed. Iu
an Eastern city, not loug ago, a Sis
ter of Charity lay dyiug, and at last
from a stuper she opeued her eyes
and said: “It is strauge : every kiud
word I have spoken iu life, every tear
that 1 have shed, has become a living
flower around me, and they briug to
my senses au iuoense meflible.”
EXECUTION OF RIDLEY AND LATTIMEri. |
In taming round, however, Ridley
law Latimer coming np behind him j
n the frieze coat, with the cap and \
mndkerchief—the work day costumei
inaltcred except that under his cloak
ind reaching to his feet, the old man
vore a long new shroud.
“Oh! be ye there?” Ridley ex
daimed.
“Yea,” Latimer answered. “Have :
ifter as fast as I can follow.” Ridley i
*an to him and embraced him.
“Be of good heart, brother,” said
le; “God will either assnago the
lame, or else strengthen us to abide
it.”
They knelt and prayed together,
and they exchanged a few words in a
low voice, which were not overheard.
Lord Williams, the Vice Chancellor,
and the doctors, were seated ou a
platform close to the stake. A ser
mon was preached, “a scant one,”
“of scarce a quarter of an hour,” and
then Ridley begged that for Christ’s
sake he might say a few words. Lord
Williams looked to the doctors, one
of whom started from his feat, and
laid his bands on his lips.
“Recant,” he said, “and you may
both speak and live.”
“So long as the breath is in my
body,” Ridley answered, “I will never
deny my Lord Christ and His owu
truth. God’s will be done in me. I
commit our cause,” he said iu a loud
vpice. turning to the people, “Al
mighty God, who shall indifferently
judge all.”
The brief preparations were swiftly
made. Ridley gave his gown and
tippet to his brother iu law, ahd dis
tributed rememberauces among those
who were nearest to him. To Sir
Henry Lee he gave a new groat; to
others he gave handkerchiefs, nut
megs, slices of ginger, his watch and
miscellaneous trinkets; “some pluck
ed off the points of his hose ;” “hap
py,” it was said “was he that might
get any rag of him.”
Latimer had uothing to give. He
threw off his cloak, stood bolt up
right iu his shroud, and the friends
took their places on either side of
the stake. “Oh, Heavenly Father,”
Ridley said, “I give unto Thee most
humble thanks for that Thou hast
called me to be a professor of Thee
even unto death. Have mercy, O
Lord, on this realm of England, and
deliver the same from all her ene
mies.”
A chain was passed round their
bodies, and fastened with a staple.
A friend brought a bag of powder,
and hung it round Ridley's neck. “I
will take it to be sent of God,'' Rid- j
ley said. “Have you any more for
my brother!"
“Yes, sir,” the friend answered.
“Give it him betimes, then,” Rid
ley replied, “lest it be too late.”
The fire was then brought. To the
last momeut Ridley was distressed
about the leases, and, bound as he
was, he entreated Lord 'Williams to
intercede with the Queen about them.
“I will remember your suit,” Lord
Williams answered.
The lighted torch was laid to the
fagot. “Be of good comfort, Master
Ridley,” Latimer cried, at the crack
ling of the flame. “Play the mau;
we shall this day light such a candle,
by God’s grace, in England, as I trust
shall never be put out.” “/h manus
tuns, I) ominc commendo spirit uni
meuin.” “O Father of ileaveu,” said
Latimer, ou the other side, “receive
my soul.”
Latimer died first; as the flame
blazed up about him he bathed his j
hands in it, ,and stroked his face, j
The powder exploded, and he became !
instantly senseless. Ilis companion
was less fortuuate. The sticks had ■
been piled too thickly over the gorse !
that was under them ; the fire smoul
dered round his legs, and the sensa
tion of suffering was uuusually pro
tracted. “I cannot burn,” he called ;
llLord hare mercy on me : let the
tire come to me; I cannot burn.’ His
brother-iu-law, with awkward kind
ness, threw on mere wood, which
July kept down the flame. At last
some one lifted the pile with “a bill,’
sud let in the air; the red tougnes ol
tire shot up fiercely. Ridley wrested
himself into the middle of them, and
the powder did its work.—History of
England from the Fall of Mosley to
'he death of Elisabeth. By James
Anthony Fronde, ilf. A.
A Southern physician has written
i pamphlet to show that, as he be
lieves, limestone-built cities are heal
thy, and have no record of malarial
disease, and giving the reasous why,
n his opinion, this is true of them.
Re asserts that “limestone is ever ab
torbiug carbonic acid,” no matter
i’roiu what produced, aud, “like veg
station, is ever converting said dead
ly poison into pure oxygen.”
THE APPLE.
The apple is nndoubtedly tbe most
valuable, as well as tbe most widely
known of tbe whole family of fruits.
It has beeu termed by the great “Frnit
Mau,” flowing, as the world-renown
sd frnit of tbe temperate climates.1’
It seems, too, to be a native of tbe
larger part of the whole globe. It Was
well known long before tbe agricul
tnral press came into existence, and
is described by several writers of an
tiquity. Its age and general acquain
tance among tbe uatious of tbe world
even has failed to make it tbe univer
sal favorite that it should be.
Tbe apple will flourish in a greater
variety of soils than most other fruits
and are more prolific as a rule. Tbe
great mistake which tbe average far
mer makes in its cultivation is in
deeming it incapable of higher culti
vation. Few take tbe trouble to do
anything to their apple trees, think
ing that while all other fruits require
care and attention tbe apple tree is
endowed by nature with a supernat
ural vitality, which will save them all
cultivation. Here lies the secret of a
good apple crop. Every tree, wheth
er cultivated for fruit or foliage, re
quires attention and correction, and
none more so than the apple tree.
Most farmers assume that the apple
orchard will take care of itself, and
give it uo thought. Cultivation, care
and attention will do for the apple
exactly what it has done for the peach
and the pear, and the day will come
when the ordiuarv market apple will
command as much attention and bt
entitled to as much commendation
tor luscious qualities as the peach or
pear. Our people must, however,
first divest themselves of the prejudi
cial idea that while other fruits re
quire atteutiou, the apple will take
care of itself.—Exchange.
Making Timber Dit.able.—Au
easy aud simple method of rendering
timber unusually durable, if hot prac
tically iiidestructable, is of the great
est value to the agricultural commu
nity. Fence posts, sills of buildings
and other timber exposed to influen
ces which cause rapid decay, last but
a few years under ordinary circum
stances. It has long been known that
lime is au effective preservative, act
ing in this way by coagulating the
albumen in the cellular tissue of the
timber. Au easy method of prepar
ing the timber has been applied prac
tically by a French mining engineer.
A pit was made in which the tim
ber was placed ; quick lime was scat
tered over it, aud then slaked with
water.
Alter being exposed a lew days to
the action of the lime, the timber was
removed and used as supports for the
roof of a mine. Where unprepared
timber lasted but two years, that pre
pared iu this way has been in use for
several years without the least ap
pearauce ol decay.' This method of
preservation vonnircnds'itseif for its
simplicity and cheapness for farm
use.
Baked Apples.—This is a very
healthful dish, anil may be made a
very enticing one. Pare, and core
large, juicy apples, but do not break
them in pieces; fill the Centres with
sugar, a little lemon juice and a thin
bit of the yellow part of the lemon
rind ; put a clove in each apple ; lay
them in a pan with a little water iu
the bottom ; sprinkle sugar on the
tops and bake; taste them often, and
when done set away to cool. Put
them on ice if you can, the colder they
are the better. Whip cream and
spread over them thickly ; seud pow
dered sugar around with them. If
you cannot get cream, content yopr
self by serving the apples with rich
milk and sugar, or a boiled custard
may be poured over them.
Grafting Wax.—As the graft
ing season is at band, aud so many
inquiries are made about grafting
wax, we give an approved formula
that bas ever given satisfaction : One
pound rosiu ; one-fourth pound bees
wax ; one-fourth pound tallow. If
the weather is quite cold, substitute
two ounces liuseed oil lor the tallow.
This amount—the half of it, or any
multiple of it—may be made, provi
ded the proportions remain the same.
It may be applied to a cloth with a
brush when quite warm, aud allowed
to cool, wheu it is cut iu strips au*
inch aud a half or two inches wide.
Common field clay of teuacious qual
ity bouud around the scion answers
every purpose.
THE actions of men are like the
index ot a book; they poiut out what
I is most agreeable in them.
THE FEEDING VIRTUES OF BRAN.
In an article under this heading in
the A. 1. Time*, Alexander Hyde
shows. Irom the analysis and manu
facture of brau, that it is a very high
value for stock feeding, and that
Graham flour, (that is, flour retain
ing the bran) is a more wholesome
aud nutritive food than flour when
bolted^ In concluding an elaborate
article on the subject, be says :
The conclusion is irresistible that
bran has not been sufficiently appre
ciated as food for stock in past tunes,
and that Dr. Graham was right when
he recommended unbolted flour as
the best for bread making. Graham
flour is specially adapted for children
as it furnishes the material for ma
king bones aud developing good
teeth. Some objection is made to
the use of brau by farmers, as it has
a laxative tendency. This is due to
mechanical, not chemical, influences
the coarse particles, when fed aloue,
often irritating the intestines, especi
ally at the first feeding, if given in
large quantity. This may be obvia
ted by feeding brau gradually at
lirsl, and in connection with hay.
A slightly laxative condition of the
bowels is far heavier than cue of k
constipation; aud if children are |
troubled with the latter, Graham ».j
bread is just the food they need.
One great recommendation of bra.. Ji
as food for stock is that it makes
the manure pile so rich. A large
proportion of the inorganic matter
(ash) in brau is composed of the va
rious phosphates, just what most old
soils need, these salts having been
carried off in the milk aud meat
sold. We have seen w onderful chan
ges produced on old farms by lib
era! feeding of cows with wheat
brau. 'lhe pastures in a few years
have renewed their age. ltye bran
is not quite so rich iu ash as wheat,
but it makes an excellent food for
producing milk, as it coutains over: .
12 per cent, of protein compon
just the thing tor cheese-making,
and over 2 per cent of fats. Indeed,
dairy farmers generally give the
preference to rye bran, and one rea
son is that it is fiuer, and does not
induce such a laxative condition of
the bowels.
Huw Japanese Keep Meat.—
The Japanese keep meat fresh in hot
weather by placing the raw flesh in
porcelain vessels and pouring on it
boiling water, whereby the albumen
of the surface is quickly coagulated
aud forms a protection against the
further action of the water. Oil is
then poured on the surface of the wa
ter so as to prevent the access of air
and consequent putrefaction of the
meat.
Cold Slaw.—Cut the slaw up
tine, take a teacupful of vinegar, with
.a little salt, pepper, mustard aud su
gar, a lump of butter about the size
of a waluut, 5 teacupful of sour cream,
1 egg beaten up and mixed with the
rest, set on the tire to boil, stirring it
occasionally; pour it hot over the
cold slaw, coyer up the dish till ready
for the table.
German Coffee Cake.—Taka
bread dough the last time it is to be
mixed, spread thinly on a buttered
tin ; let it rise ; indent the top deep
ly with your huger; sift sugar and
powdered cinnamon over and dip on
a little sweet cream. Bake immedi
ately. It makes a splendid breakfast
dish with coffee.
Stale Bread.—A. nice way to use «
stale bread is to fry it, simply dip
ping it in cold water before putting it
in the buttered frying pan. It will
brown nicely and is liked by many as
well as if dipped in beaten eggs. The
latter makes a nice change in the bill
of fare.
Marshall B. Shaw, of Chester
held, N. H., had one ewe that gave
birth to three lambs, all ewes. Be
fore the lambs were a year old each
had a lamb, while the old ewe brought
forth twins, making a flock of uiue
from one mother within a year’s time.
To Clean Silver.—Never put a
particle of soap on silverware if you
would have it retain its luster, soap
suds make it look like pewter. Wet
a ffauuel cloth in kerosene, dip it iu
dry whiting and rub the plated ware,
let it dry on it and then polish with a
Chamois skin.
A Farmer should always think
iu advance of his work. The whole
plau must be laid out in the head
betbre the hands are put to it.
Plowing should be done only when
the soil will crumble loosely; when
the plow smears the upturned surface
> the soil will be injured.