/
THE CHRISTIAN SUN.
IN ESSENTIALS, UNITY;
IN NON-ESSENTIALS, LIBERTY;
IN ALL THINGS, CHARITY.
Volume XXXtll.
SUFFOLK, YA., FRIDAY MAY 28, 1880.
ISTumber 22.
$
oetrg.
But can they prove the itory tine?
Why count yourself among the “they'’
Who whisper what they dare sot say?
Suspicion may arise from naught
But malice, envy, want of thought.
“They say !”—but why the tale rehearse,
And help to make the matter worse?
No good can possibly accrue
Prom telling what may be untrue ;
And is it not a nobler plan
To speak of all the best you can ?
“They suy I—well, if it should be so,
Why need you tell the tale of woe?
Will it the bitter wrong redress,
Or make one pang of sorrow less ?
Will it the erring one restore,
Henceforth to “go and sin no more ?”
“They say 1“—Oh, pause and look within,
See bow thine heart inclines to sin;
And lest in dark temptation’s hour
Thou, too, shouldst sink beneath its power,
Pity the frail, weep o’er their fall,
But speak of good or not at all.
—Selected.
election^.
HERE AND THERE.
—Loid, I will never come away
from thee without thee.—St. Bet
nard.
—Treat servants as yon would like
to be treated y out self, were you in
their place.
—Many have withstood the frowns
of the world, but its smiles and ca
resses have hugged them to death.
—God walks with the simple; He
reveals Himself to the lowly; He gives
understanding to the little ones ; He
discloses His meaning to pure minds,
and hides His grace from the curious
and proud.—Thomas a’Kempis.
—A French military officer, during
a street riot in Paris, was tired at, but
the shot missed. Turning, with a
sword drawn, to revenge the attempt,
he uiscovered that his assailant was
a woman, aud with Freuch politeness,
sheathed his sword aud raised his hat
to her.
—A rather talkative woman one
day said to Rowland Hill, “I have
been a good deal of late, with some
Papists, aud they have sadly tempted
me to change my religion.” “Indeed,
ma’am,” he replied, “I was not aware
nntil uow that you had any religion
to chauge.”
—Sidney Smith once preached a
sermon from the text: “Oh that men
would praise the Lord.” There is
still need that that topic should be
dwelt upon, lhe small number of
men who go to church, and who pre
sent themselves for confirmation, is
noticeable.
- Richmond churchyard, in Eng
land, coutains a monument, with an
epitaph to the metuory of Robert
Lawes, Esq., who, though a barrister,
“was so great a lover of peace that
when a contention arose between Life
and Death he immediately yielded up
the ghost to end the dispute.”
—Jerry Black is a firm believer in
oldtime orthodoxy. Some one re
marked in his presence that the lines
that formerly divided people in re
gard to religious matters were fading
out. “Yes,” said the Judge, “aud I
notice that the nice distinctions be
tween right aud wrong are going
with them.”
—When Christ was about to leave
this world, He made His will. His
soul He committed to His .Father ;
His body He bequeathed to Joseph,
to be deceutly iuterred; His clothiug
fell to the soldiers; His mother He
left to the care of Johu. But what
should He leave toHis.poor disciples
that had left all for Him f Silver aud
gold He had uoue, but He left that
which was infinitely better,His peace.
“Peace I leave with you, my peace 1
give you.” And eternal life also: “J
give unto them eterual life, aud they
shall never perish.”
—From an account kept by Row
land Hill, it appears that up to June
10th, 1S3L, he had preached 22,291
times. It may, therefore, be fairly
concluded, that up to the close of his
long ministry of sixty-six years he
had preached at least 23,000 sermons,
being an average of nearly 350 every
year. Many of these discourses were
delivered iu streets and Helds. In
reference to these services, Mr. Hill
has said that, as far as he had ascer
tained, more souls were couverted
nnder those sermons than under any
others that he preached. Other emi
nent ministers of the gospel have
been equally indefatigable. White
field, it appears, in thirty-four years
preached 18,000 sermons; and John
Wesley, who lived to about the same
age as Mr. Hill, delivered 40,560.
AN OBJECT^ LESSON.
The aspirations of ambition are in
herent in the human heart. Our
Lord Jesus, preaching the gospel <#f
lowliness and humility, continually
encountered the unholy ambitious of
his followers. From almost the be
ginning of his ministry, down to that
Inst hour when the disciples received
the broken bread at his bands, and
the cup of the covenant, tokeii of his
blood so soon to be spilled, there was
the restlessness o( ambition, the con
tention as to who among them should
be the greatest. Again and again he
was obliged to rebuke this unholy
emulation, and to warn them against
an evil which has so thoroughly root
ed itself in the church, and wrought
such widespread desolation through
the ages'of its existence.
On one occasion ‘‘he came to Ca
peruanm, and being in the house he
asked them, What was it that ye dis
puted among yourselves by the way T
But they held their peace : for by the
way they had disputed among them
selves who should be the greatest.—
And he sat down and called the
twelve, and saith unto them, if any
mar desire to be first, the same shall
be last of all, and servant of all. And
he took a child, and set him in the
midst of them : and when he had tak
en him in his arms, he' said unto
them, whosoever shall receive one of
such children in my name, receiveth
me : and whosoever shall receive me,
receiveth not me, but him that sent
me." iHHi k ix.
“He that is least among you, the
same shall be greatest,” this was the
lesson which our Saviour sought to
impress, and to do it effectually “He
took a little ehild,” au object not dif
ticuit to hud, nor uulumiliar to the
disciples, a child that had no maiks
of perfections, but which undoubted
ly bore the common impress of in
timity and frailty which marks the
members of a falleu race. It is not
said that it was a beautiful child, or
a well dressed child of wealthy pa
rents, or eveu a child trained aud
cultured uudet all gracious influences.
It was simply “a little child” that he
set before them as their pattern and
their example, achild that was taught
to be obedieut, to have its owu wish
es disregarded, to be subject to its
elders and to sacrifice its iucliuatious
to the will aud convenience of those
around ; a child in whom guile aud
malice aud craft and human shrewd
ness had not yet taken root; a child
uucnltured, unsophisticated, undent
ed,—emblem of those whom be had
introduced into his family, who were
born again, who, leaving earthly am
bitious aud pomps behind bad enter
ed upon a new life, aud who were
henceforth to be actuated by new mo
tives, guided by new principles, and
iuspired by new energies, as children
horn of God and made inheritors of
his kingdom.
There are those who despise infan
cy. Heathendom offers her young as
sacrifices, aud casts them into the
burning arms of Moloch. Christen
dom is not wanting in guilty hatr d
of little ones. The very apostles
sought to repel the mothers whocame
to briug their childreu that they
might receive the Saviour’s hlessiug,
but Jesus always loved the little ones,
and those who are most like him are
in deepest sympathy with children.
We have seen persons who cast a
doubt on the conversiou of childreu
or on the prospect of their ultimate
salvation. They have said, “these
children have formed no character ■/
and we have olten thought as we
have marked their conceit and self
righteousness, “What a blessed thing
it would be if as much could be said
of you.” If the characters which men
have formed are to be considered,
they may well cry for mercy. They
may think that with their narrow be
liels and their straitlaced precepts
they have formed some character
which is desirable, but he who sees
things as they are, prefers the char
acler of a little child. He would take
for his building, timber fresh from
the forest, rather than these old
sticks that have been hewed and not
ched aud morticed, and filled so full
of nails aud gravel that it is almost
us much as they are worth to work
them into any proper shape.
“A little child !'—the whole of man’s
mighty capabilities are embodied
there. The old man’s lile is spent;
the young man’s life is ofteu wreck
ed; the man of mature age has habits
which are fixed and purposes which
ure often inconsistent with the divine
will; but “a little child” yields to his
Maker’s plastic hand, and of such
little ones “is the kingdom of heaven.”
Ho who comforteth the mourners
says to each weeping mother in Is
rael, “Refrain thy voice from weep
ing, aud thine eyes from tears: for
thy work shall be rewarded, saith
the Lord ; and they shall come again
from the land or the enemy. And
there is hope in thine end, saith the
Lord, that thy children shall come
again to their own border.” Jer. xxxi.
15—17.
Who can estimate the blessings
which shall thns come to those, who,
though cut off from the pririleges
and dangers of this ealthly life, shall
enter the kingdom of our God, and
there beneath the kindlier skies of
paradise, and amid all the joys and
glories of the better land, shall grow
under the care aud will of Him who
said, “Suffer the little children to
come unto me,” and who took them
in ins arms aud blessed tuem.
However others may question con
cerning their relationship to the hea
venly Father, one thing is certain,
he is the “Father of the father
less aud however the aged or the
mature may doubt concerning their
hope aud destiny ; of the little ones,
Christ said, “Of such is the kingdom
of heaven.” He who sees that king
dom will see the grandest orphan
asylum that the universe has ever
beheld, and there the Fatherhood ol
God shall make make up for the loss
of earthly kindred, and iu the joy
and gladuess of eternity “these little
ones” shall expand in divine loveli
ness beneath the smile of their graci
ous Creator.
“Of such is the kingdom of heaven.”
Let us come down from our lofty am
bitions; let ns condescend to men of
low estate : let us seek to be follow
ers of Him who stooped to wash bis
own disciples' leet; let us remember
that it is enough for the servant to
be as bis Lord ; aud that if we would
be great, we must first be little. In
lowliness and humility we find the
path that leads to honors that shall
never end. God grant that we maj
have wisdom to walk that path.
HELP WHERE HELP IS NEEDED,
It- is a peculiarity of selfish humani
ty to manifest great helpfulness
where no help is needed, aud great
indifference where the necessity for
aid is urgent. Men give gifts to the
rich, where only a smile or a word of
thanks is counted a sufficient recom
pense; but the poor who might be
blessed by their abundance, pine un
uotiued and unkuown.
In Christian labor the same dispo
sition is manifested. Here is a little
church struggling to hold fastagaiust
surrounding odds aud hindrances,
and meu pass carelessly by, or per
haps contemptuously dole out a pit
tance to relieve its need ; while yon
der, where wealth aud fashion and
luxury abound, they are ready to
pour out their hundreds aud thous
ands for purposes of show and world
ly exaltation.
Yonder is a little struggling mis
sion; few people are interested iu it;
there is work enough for all to do ;
but persons sit back and find fault
and turn up their noses and hinder
rather than help, and say they “can
not do anything ;" while perhaps iu
that very little gathering more souls
are saved, and more actual good is
done than in some great establish
ment where money is poured out like
water, aud where influence and wealth
combiued smooth the path and
strengthen the hands of those engag
ed in labor. By aud by those same
persous And some place where things
go with a rush; where multitudes are
staudiug idle; where there is little to
be done aud many to do it, aud they
then show great zeal and energy in
doing the very tliiugs they could uot
and would not do wheu they in
positions where their aid was most
urgently needed.
Agaiu we find one or two persons
laboring single-handed to save souls,
while people stand by, look on, criti
cise, and do nothing; but by aud by
some noted evangelist or revivalist
puts in an appearance, then money is
plenty, help is abundant, and all the
idlers iar aud near rush in, until the
way of real workers is actually crow
ded by persons who having stood idle
all the time when their labors were
really needed, seem disposed to crowd
in where they frequently prove to be
a hindrance raUogr tbau a help.
If people would Riarn to consult the
necessities of Qod's cavse, rather tbau
their own personal inclinations, they
might be much more useful, aud also
greatly increase their own happiness.
Some people are on the lookout for
“good society," and shape their coarse
with reference to that; but if Jesus
Christ had been seeking for “good so
ciety" he probably never would have
come near them; in fact this world
would never have seen his face.
God’s servants are ambassadors; but
no man can be au ambassador until
he forsakes his own home and goes
into a foreign land, where he may be
subjected to many discomforts. He
who would really do work for God
will be willing to do it where it is
needed ; be who is continually wan
dering about the vineyard and pick
ing ont easy places where lie can la
bor, and abandoning the soil which
seems hard and sterile, will be likely
to effect little in the Master’s cause,
and in the end will And that he has
accomplished very little for knnself.
In serving others we do good to
ourselves. The ragged children
whom we fish out of the slums of pov
erty and distress to-day, in a few
brief years may be permitted to take
our places; and while they do work
lor God they will also cherish in per
petual greenness the memories of
those who have led them in the ways
of life.
Help where help is ueeaeu, ana
work where there is work to be done.
There are plenty of people who would
be glad to sing God’s praise in glory
—why do they not begin and Bing it
here ou earth f They look forward
to the time when, they shall be with
God’s servants who serve him day
and night in his temple, but in this
world where service is so much need
ed they hardly serve him at all. Said
one man to a congregation, ‘‘You
« ill sit and sing yourselves ‘away to
everlasting bliss,’ but you are not
needed in heaven half as much as you
are out West on the prairies teaching
Sunday School.’’
The grandeur of Christian work is
but imperfectly appreciated. Work
done for God, done in the strength ol
God, done under the aid of the Spirit
of God, done wherever it is needed,
with unfaltering faith as it regards
its ultimate results, and without one
shadow of discouragement in the
midst of trials and dangers and afflic
turns; work, done not in willfulness
nor in strife, but in the spirit of Him
who did not strive or cry.; constant
patient, earnest, persevering labor in
the Master’s cause,—this it is that
tells for the good of humanity in this
world, and which shall at last receive
the welcome words, “Well done.”
“Go, labor on, spend and be spent,
Tby joy to do thy Master’s will;
It is the way the Master went,
Shall not uis servants tread ii still ?’*
RESULTS Of A DREAM.
Mrs. M——, a lady of more than or
dinary intelligence, lived many years
ago iu Petersburg, Va. She was a
married woman, and the mother ol
lour children at the time of the oc
currence of the incident which I now
relate. The writer received the story
from her own lips before she was call
ed away from earth. She died at an
advanced age, having adorned her
Christian profession by a life of ex
emplary piety.
Martha, her eldest child, was a
beantiful girl, at the time referred to
being about fourteen years of age.
She was her mother’s idol, thongli
her mother was unconscious of the
fact. Handsome in person, sweet in
disposition, gentle in her manners,
and withal devotedly attached to her
mother, she occupied a supreme
place iu her affections. Jnst as she
was verging on womauhood she was
takeu ill, and grew lrom bad to worse,
until tbe death angel came and re
leased the sufferer from the grasp ol
disease.
The mother was positively inconso
lable. Nothing could allay the bit
ter anguish of her broken heart. She
lost her appetite, refused to take her
food, sleep deserted her pillow, and
gradually she wasted away almost to
a skeleton. She wept until she had
no more tears to weep. Her friends
exhausted every device to divert her
mind from the painful subject. Her
pastor prayed, ceuuselled and admon
ished iu vain. It seemed she most
waste away and die.
Iu this state of mind, late one night
she fell asleep, with a few stray tear
drops on her shrivelled cheek. Her
sleep was fitful for awhile, and then
she fell into n profound slumber, and
sleeping, she dreamed. Suddenly, as
she related the vision to me, a bright
and beautiful angel, clothed in the
habiliments of light, appeared to her,
and, iu a sweet and winning voice.
tenderly asked :
“Would you see Martha 1’’
Instantly she responded :
“Yes; abore all things in the uni
verse I would see her.”
“Then follow me,” said the heaven
ly visitant. •
She arose and followed her guide
without a word of further inquiry,
Presently a stately and magnificent
edifice greeted her wonderiug and
half-bewildered gaze. The door of
entrauce was open. She ascended
the steps and entered the resounding
hall, following closely behind the an
gel, not knowing whither he would
lead her. Without even castings
glance behind, or saying a word, snd
denly the angel panned, and with his
ethereal finger touched a secret
spring. Noiselessly a door swuDg
wide open and revealed tbe inmates
to her astonished gaze. There was a
throng of excited revellers in tbe
midst of bacchanalian excesses, flash
ed with wine, and presenting a revol
ting scene of debauchery and worldly
dissipation. The angel pointed his
white index finger at tbe most con*
spicnons figure in the group, the one
who led the dance and was most bois
terous in tbe mirth and festive glee,
i and then turning bis eye on the
mother, said:
“There is Martha; behold her.”
The mother passionately exclaim
ed :
“No, uo; that is not Martha 1 1
was raising her for God and for His
chnrcb and for heaven. That is not
Martha.”
“So yon thought,” responded the
augel in tenderest accents ; “bat she
was your idol. You could deny her
nothing That is what she would
have been.”
The door closed.
“Follow me," said the angel.
She followed with a palpitating
heart. Her mind was filled with
anxious and painful thought. The
angel paused and again touched a se
cret spring, and the door flew open
as <fou gulden hinges. Before her
enraptured eyes there was displayed
a vast multitude of the most, resplen
deut forms she hud ever conceived of
iu human mould. Brows of lustrous
beauty, faces radiant with superoat
nral light, voices sweetly modulated,
and all enrolled iu spotless white.
Not a trace of sorrow was on any
face. It was heaven, and the angel,
pointing to the brightest and most
beautiful of the joyous and happy
throng, said, turning his glad eye on
the mother:
“There is Martha as she is."
The dreamer awoke, bnt awoke
from that dream iu unutterably ecsta
sy—she awoke praising God. And in
relating this dream she said to the
writer: “Dream though it was, to
me it was an apocalypse. I brushed
away my tears. My heart was ie
iieved of its sorrow, aud I now be
lieve, and I have long believed, that
Martha’s death was best for her and
best for her mother.”—Iilustrafed
Christian Weekly.
PAINT THE WART.
When Cromwell was having his
portrait paiutc-d, the artist, tbiukiug
to flatter the Protector,omitted paint
ing the big wart on his face. “Paint
me just as I am,” said Cromwell,
“wart and all!"
There are a good many painters in
the world who use uo brush; but
such portraits as they paint! Some
omit describing the mental wart ■
they see their friends’ deformity, but
they would gladly pass it over. Some,
though, see only the wart, and so
they devote their time aud skill to
painting it, aud they make it as un
lovely and hideous a3 possible. Some
people, again, paint warts where tlieyr
don’t exist, and cover up a face really
attractive with imaginary deformi
ties. These are they who dwell upon
the faults of jfheir friends, and who
graciously supply those which are
lacking.
Paint your friends’ portraits if yon
will—paint even the warts ; but paint
them no bigger thau they are, while
you remember that wbat you fail to
see iu your own lace may possibly be
seen there by others with startling
distinctness.
A great deal of talent is lost to the
world for the want of a little courage.
Every day sends to their graves num
bers of obscure men who have only
remained in obscurity because their
timidity has prevented them from
making a first effort, and who, if they
only had been induced to begin,
would in all probability have gone
great lengths in the career of fame.
The fact is that, in doing anything in
the world worth doing, we must not
staud shivering en the bank, thiuk
ing ol the cold and danger, but jump
iu and scramble through as well as
we can. It will not do to be perpe
tually calculating risks and adjusting
nice chances; it did very well before
the Hood, when a mau could consult
his friends upon an intended publica
tion for a hundred aud fifty years,
and live to see its success six or seveu
centuries afterward ; but at present a
mau waits aud doubts, and cousults
bis brothers, and his uucles, and par
ticular friends, till one day he finds
that he is sixty-five years of age, that
be has lost so much time in consult
ing first cousins and particular
friends that he has no time to follow
their advice. There is so little time
for over-squeamishuess at present
that the opportunity slips away. The
very period of life at which men
choose to venture, if ever, is so con
fined that it is no bad rule to preach
up the necessity, in such instances, ol
a little violence done to the feelings,
and effosts made in defiance of strict
and sober calculation.—Sydney Smith
j
I
I
arm
and Jiresitfy
THE WEATHER.'
The farmer has te deal with three i
great problems, either one of which is
intricate enough to baffle hir best I
abilities—namely, the soil, plauts.and j
the weather. This being the case,the'
farmer ought to be a good naturalist, |
and we will say that every successfnl i
farmer is, in fact, a tolerable natural
ist, whether book taoght or not. He
has a practical knowledge of the piin
ciples, nature, and modes of action of
soils, plants, and the weather. This
cannot bnt be the case withauy intel
ligent man who has passed his life
surrounded by and toiling amid these
things. No man w ho does not know
something of the nature of plants and
soils, and the climate that be lives in,
can do anything as a farmer.
Most farmers get their knowledge
of these things entirely from their
own observation and experience, and
have, therefore, as a general thing
quite imperfect if not erroneous ideas
of them all. A good many farmers
have read the text books on these
several subjects, and have a broader,
more comprehensive, and more cor
rect view of them ; but they have
failed to see where their practice aud
their reading end, and where they
are to be made mutually helpful.—
They do not blend the art and the
science into one perfect system. A
few. it may be do so amalgamate the;
two, aud they are those who are at
the same lime the best practical and j
the best scieutiUc, or if you prefer,;
theoretical farmers. The reason why
they have not attained perfection is,!
that both practice and science are, raj
yet, impel feet. The two have not j
been studied in connection long!
enough. No mere scientist can give
us a perfect system of farming, and
no practical farmer can do it without j
the science ; but ot the two, we bo-j
lieve that the chances are in l’avor of;
the intelligent practical man. Vv e j
are sure that a perfect system of far-!
tiling, if such a work is ever written, ■
must come from a farmer himself. It i
cannot be otherwise. Here is hope
aud a chance for some toiler uow at j
the plow handles.
Of the three groat subjects above 1
named that of the weather must re- j
eeive from cultivators of the soil far t
more attention than uow. The farmer i
may modify his climate to some ex
tent, aud he must study well its chan
ges in order to be able to forecast aud
provide for them iu time. A great
deal may be learned by close observa
tion and a caieful perusal oftbe text
books ou meteorology. Tt is well i
kuown that the direction of the wind j
determines the weather—this topic!
ought therefore, to receive cousidera-;
ble attention and be stndied in all its j
bearings by the farmer. Then the
amount of moisture in the air, rain
fall, temperalnre of the ground, &c.,
will claim investigation. The cause
of early and late frosts and how to
hinder them, should be well under
stood by every one who cultivates
tender plains. The distribution of
heat and of raiufail would determine
when to plant any given crop. A
thousand benefits would come to the.
farmer if lie knew the laws that con-;
trol the weather, aud would turn his i
knowledge to account iu the cultiva-1
tiou of crops. Let our farmers seek
to arrive at this. Let them get one
or two good books on meteorology,;
aud use them in the every day obser-1
ration of tbe weather.—Rural Mes-,
tender.
VERMIN RIDDANCE.
Half an ounce of soap boiled in a
pint of water, and put on with a
brush while boiliug hot, infallibly de
stroys the bugs and their eggs. Flies
are driven out of a room by hanging
up a bunch of plantain or fleawort
plant, after it has been dipped in
milk. Bats and mice speedily disap
pear by mixing equal quantities of
stroug cheese and powdered squills ;
they devour this mixture with great
greediness, while it is innocuous to
man. House ants ravenously devonr
the kernels of walnuts, and shellbarks
or hickory nuts. Crack some of
these, and plate them on a plate near
the infested places, and when the
plate is full of the ants, throw the
contents in the fire. Cockroaches, as
well as ants, are driven away by
strewiug elderberry leaves on the
shelves and other places frequented
by these troublesome insects.
The white of an egg, into which a
piece of alum about the size of a wal
nut has been stewed until it forms a
jelly, is a capital remedy for sprains.
It should be laid over the sprain upon
a piece of lint, aud be changed as
often as it becomes dry.
EXPERIMENTS SUGGESTED.
Intelligent cultivators may acquire
much valuable information for $bcm
"elves, as well as for others, by/ insti
tuting a few inquiries in esperiinc’ir/
iug: which will not require much time,
and which will be attended with much
interest. Among the points for in
quiry we may name the following :
1. The removal of the blossoms of
youngl'rnit on apple? trees for chang
ing the bearing year, which may be
rapidly performed with a pair of
sheep-shears. This experiment is
specially recommended for young
trees, or those which have not borne
many years, as promising to be more
permanent in its resalts than old
trees.
2. Try the effects of keeping the
soil clean and mellow tor several feet
on "each side of neely transplanted
trees, aud compare the annual growth
on such trees with others where the
soil is permitted to become hard, or
to be covered with weeds aud grass.
Also, ascei tain the relative advanta
ges of a mellow and u mulched sur
face, as indicated by the length of
grow th. These experiments may be
tried on peach and other trees, as
well as on apples.
3. If yon have any trees which
you do not value, try linseed oil, pe
troieum, kerosene, &c., on the bark,
and ascertain if the application will
kill them. Try this treatment on
large and smail tree;. apples, peach
and pear. Mix the e ls with water,
in other experiments, be foie applying.
The knowledge thus acquired may be
of much use in treating for diseases
and insects.
T Try the effect of cutting the
toots of orchard trees while growing,
and while iu a dormant state, for de
termining what iuflue ce plowing aud
tearing the roots ms have on the
growth of the trees, performing the
experiment on a few trees of little
vniue.
o. Piant seeds of . iff'erent kinds,
at different measured depths, mark
ing each accurately, :o asceitaiu at
w hat depth they grow best, and pro
duce the best plauts.
C. Try the effects of thiuiiiug the
young frnu on peach, apple and pear
trees, leaving alternate trees with the
fruit uuthiuned. The apples should
not be nearer than tiiree times the
diameter of the full-grown fruit; the
peaches should be at least six inch
er apart; and three fourths of the
fruit of weil-loaded pear trees should
be taken off. Observe if this treat
ment diminishes in any degree the
amount of the crop ; aud also how
much the quality of the fruit is im
proved.—Country Gentleman.
Chafing Breasts of Horses.—
The common practice of using pads
or sheepskins under the collar is ob
jectionable, especially in warm
weather, because it ac cumulates heat
and makes the breast tender. A
better way is to take a piece of thick
and smooth leather, cot it out just
the size of the collar or a little wider,
and let it lie flat on the neck and
shoulders of the horse. This will be
still aud smooth on the horse's neck,
while the collar itself moves about,
and so it will prevent chafing. In
additisn to this, let the breasts of
working horses be w ashed off every
night with clean water.
Bleeding at the nose, it is said,
may be stopped.by a vigorous motion
of the jaws, as if iu the act of masti
cation. In the case of a small child,
give it something to chew on, aud
tell it to chew hard. This simple
remedy has never been known to tail,
even iu very severe cases.
Ingrowing Nails.—'Take a little
tallow amt put it inio a spoon aud
heat it over the lamp antilit becomes
very hot; then put it; on the sore or
granulation. The ellect will be al
most magical. The operatiou causes
very little pain if the tallow is per
fectly heated.
Cleaning Flat Iuons.—Salt will
make your rasty flat irons as clean as
glass. Tie a lump of beeswax iu a rag
kept for that purpose. When the
irons are hot, rub them first with the
wax rag, and then sc.mr with a paper
or cloth sprinkled with salt.
Moths.—A piece of paper or linen
moistened with turpentine and pat
into the wardrobe or drawers for a
single day at a time: two or three
times a year, is a preventive against
moths.
Sty on the Bye.--Cut a fig once
or twice in two, put it in a cup, pour
boiling water ou it, let stand till cool,
not cold; then bathe the eye with
the water quite frequently. It la
sure.
--
Subscribe for the Sun.