SUFFOLK, VA., FRIDAY AUGUST 20, 1880. Volume XXXIII, Number 33, |]o(lrg. THE FOOTSTEPS OF DECAY. The following is » translation from an ancient Bpaniah poem. 0 let the tool iti slumbers break, Aryuae Us senses and awake To see bow suott Life in Its glories glides away, And the stern lootsteps of decay Come stealing on. How pleasure like the passing wind Blows by and leares us nought behind^ But grief at last; How still our present happiness Seems to our wayward (anry less Than what is just. Ahd while we view the rolling tide Down which our Bowing minutes glide Away so fast. Let ns the present hour employ, And deem each fntnre dream a joy Already past. Let no Tain hope deceire the mind ; e Bo happier let ns hope to find To-morrow than to-day. Oor golden dieams of yore were bright: Like them, the present shail delight, Like them decay. Oor lites like hastening streams must be, That into one engulliug sea Are doomed to fall. The sea of death whose wares roll on O'er kiug and kingdom, throne and crown, And swallow all. Alike the risers lordly tide, Alike the humble streamlets glide, To that sad wave. Death levels poverty aad pride, The rich and poor sleep side by side Within the grave. Our birth is but the starting pines. Life is .lie rdnuiug of tbe race, A-.d death the goal. There al^our glittering tots are brought, That path alone of nil unsought Is louird of nil. Bee then how poor and little worth A;e all those glittering toys of esrth That lure us hero. Dreams of » sleep that death must break, Alas I before it bids us wake We disappear. Long ere the damp of death can blight The cheek's pure glow of red and white Baa passed away. Youth railed, and all was Heavenly fair, Age came and laid hie fingej there, • And where are tlief ? Where is the strength that kpurned decay? The step, that roved so blithp and gay ? The heart’s blithe f}ne ? The strength is gone, the step is slow, And joy grows wearisome add woo, ^ Jieleriioiifi. MABEL'S^SECREll The Irst clay of the New Year, and the children were quarrelling! A bad i and Harriet, take year kuit rk. John a«d Henry, you bring nine armfuls of wood vood-sbed. Jjlabel, you mt>y slate and, write, and 1 __' bey are let ^lone, the two babies w|l take care uf themselves. Now for half an hour, jet us have si lence. If anybody speqks let it be in a whisper,” So theif was silence ii tbe kitchen, except tie noise tbe little mother made witi her pie-making, and the occasionallprattle oi the two babies. There was generally a good deal ot noise at Number Tbirteeu; and some times—preity often—it wasn’t pleas ant noise. \ The children were all young, and hU wanted their own way. Hut they bad learned to mind their UIVIUV1* Little Mabel sat with her slate on her knee, looking thoughtful. She wrote' and erased, and wrote again with much pains taking labor. At last she seemed satisfied, and going to her mother said, in a whisper: “May 1 have s piece of white paper and a pencil out of your drawer! 1 want to copy something.” “ W hat is it! Let me see,” said her mother. Mabel hesitated and blushed, but held it op to her, sayiug, ‘‘You won’t tell, will you, mother !” Her mother read it twice over.— Hears gathered in her eyes. “You n'fin’t tell anybody, will yon!” entreated little Mabel. “No, no, oertaiuly not 1 Jt shall be adittle secret between you nud me.” She got a nioe piece of paper, and sharpened the pencil ane** for ^e child, although she was pie makiug. Mubel copied it very carefull/, and laid it away ip the bottom of !>er handkerchief-box, sayiug— “I shall see it often there, and no body goes there but mother and I.” But it happened one day that Har riet was sent to distribute the pile of clean handkerchiefs from the ironing iuto the different boxes, aud aa Ma bel’s was empty, she saw this writing. It was so short that sho took it in at a glance: “Resolved to Alwas spek plesant when Eiviybody speks cros. Mabel Ford.” Somehow it fixed itself in Harriet’s uiind, and that evening she was busy with pen and ink. The resnlt was a writing in Han id’s baud kerchief-box, with a resolution writteu more neat ly, hot the same in effect: “Resolved, that I will try this year to return pleasant words for cross oues. Harriet Ford. It made a difference that was easy to see, when two of the children be. gau to practice this resolution. There was less of qaarrelling. “That’s mine I You better mind your owu busiuess!” said John to Harriet one day, when she took up bis top and was puttiug it iu his drawer., “Rut, John, mother wants me to clear up the room,” said Harriet. “Well, I want the top to stay there I” said John, obstinately. “Well, perhaps it’s no mutter. A top isn’t much litter,” said Harriet, pleasantly. John was fully prepared for a con test. l’ai alraid he would rather have relished one. He stared. Then lie looked ashamed. Then ho spoke. ,iw “What made you say that, Har riet 1” Harriet laughed and colored a lit tle. * “Tell me 1 what made you !’’ John insisted. ‘•Come here, and I'll show you,” said she. She took him into the clothes-press, where was the row of pretty haudker- J chief boxes, each labeled. Sho opened little Mabel’s and took out the clean, soft pile of handker chiefs. “Look there!” said she.— John read. “The good little thing ! She nev er does quarrel, anyhow,” said John. “So 1 thought I had better put one in mine too,’’said Uarriet,and showed hers.— Youth’s Companion. HIS SECOND CHOICE. “Hester!” exclaimed Aunt Susau, ceasing her rocking and knittiug.aud sitting upright, “Do you know what your husband will do when you are dead I” « “What do you mean!” was the startled reply. “He will go and marry the sweet est tempered gill be can find.” “O, auntie 1” Hester began. “Hon’t interrupt me till I have fin ished,” said Aunt Susan, leaning back and taking up her kuitting. “She may not be as pretty as you are, but she will be good-natured. She may not be a* bright as yon are, but she will be good natured. She may* not be as good a housekeeper as you are, in fact 1 think she will not, but she will be good-natured. She may not oven love him as well as you do, but she will be good-natured.” “Why, auutie—” “That isn’t all,” continued Aunt Susau. “Every day you live you are making your husband more and more iu love with that good-natured wo man who may take your place some clay. After Mr. aud Mrs. Harrison left you the other evening the only remark your husband made about them was, ‘She is a sweet wornau.’ ” "An, huuuo—• “That isn't all,” composedly resum ed Aunt Susan. “To-day your hus baud was ball' across the kitchen floor bringing you the first ripe peaches, and all you did vtas to look up and say, ‘There, Will, just see your muddy tracks on my clean floor. I won't have my clean floor all tracked up.’ Some men would^ have thrown the peaches out of the window. One day you screwed up your face when be kissed you because bis moustache was damp, and said, ‘I never want you to kiss me again.’ When he empties anything you tell him not to spill it, when he lifts anything you tell him uot to break it. From morning till night your sharp voice is heard com plaiuiug and faultfinding. And last winter, when you were so sick, you scolded him for allowing the pump to lreeze, and took no notice when be said, ‘I was so anxious about you that 1 could not think of the pump.’” “But, auntie—” “Hearken, child. The strongest, most intellectual man of them all cares more ior a woman’s tenderness than for anything else iu the world, and without this the cleverest woman and the most perfect housekeeper is sure to lose her husband’s affection in time. There may be a few more men like jour Will, as gentle and loving and chivalrous, as forgetful of self, aud so satisfied with loving that their affection die a long, struggling death; bufi «K>8t cases, it takes but a few .Tears of fretfnlness end fault finding to turn a husband’s lore into irritated indiifcrenoe.” “Well, auntie—” “Yes, well 1 You are nut dead yet, and that sweet-tempered woman has not yet been found, so you have lime to beeoine so serene and sweet that your husband eau never imagine that there is a better-tempered woman in existence ”—Advocate and Guardian. THE PRINCE OF MISSIONARIES. Wbau in obedience to the commis sion of Antioch, Paul separated him self to the work of foreign missions, be inaugurated a movement which was not only absolutely novel but also brav'e. Even now, in these days when oar missionaries have the advantages of sUamsbips and telegraphs, and, above all, the endorsement of Chris tendom for their work, it is justly tiAugbt a heroic thing te become a foreign missionary. But how much more heroic it was iu those days of an iofantila Christianity and a pigmy sense of brotherhood, especially when &e mere fact of recognising the equality of the Gentiles seemed to snbqprt the foundations of a divine and exclusive religion already two millenniums old. In fact, the mission of Paul was a reversal of the mission Al Abraham. Great was Abraham’-* call; but it was a call to become the founder of a single nationality and an insolated religion. Greater was Paul’s call: for it w as a call to become the founder of a universal brother hood and a cosmopolitan religion.— He himself wus the first conspicuous illustration of the parable ot the Good Sainuritau. According to this para ble, neighborhood does not consist in local proximity: it is not a matter ot ward, or city, or stale, or nationality, or kiuship, or political parly, or reli gious denomination : it is a matter ot the possibility of relieving distress. According to this world’s teachers, it was the Jewish priest and Levite who were neighbors of the Hebrew travel er to Jericho. According to the Teacher from heaven, it was the Sa maritan foreigner who was the real neighbor of the waylaid Jew. That is to say, every human being who is iu distress, and whom 1 can practi cally help, whether he lives in Phila delphia (ft iu Calcutta, is my neigh bor. Aud of this doctriue of neigh borhood or universal brotherhood, Paul was tbe first superb illustration. Being Christ’s chosen vessel, to con vey as iu au elect .vase his name be fore Geutiles, he magnified his office, feeling himself a debtor to every hu man being, whether Greek or barba rian. And he illustrated the Master’s doctrine of neighborhood because "he had caught the Master’s own spirit. For the Son of God himself was time’s great foreign missionary, commission ed by the eternal Father to our far off and alien race, that he might bind up the wounds of a waylaid and bleeding humanity, and convey it to the inn of his own redeeming grace. As the Father has sent the Son into the world, even so did the Son send Paul into the world. Nobly conscious rf this divine commission, be recSjf* uized iu every human beiug, however iistaut or degraded, a personal neigh bor and brother. And so he won for bimsalf the glorious title, “The Apos tle to the Geutiles.” And for this uibiime vocation he had been in an eminent sense very especially fitted. By birth a Jew, he was familiar with the liviug oracles. By citizenship a Roman, he was allowed a freedom throughout the imperial empire which would have been denied him as sim ply a Jew. By culture a Grecian, be had the ear of the nations ; for Greek was the cosmopolitan tongue. If ever there was au instance of divine elec tion, it was the choice of Saul of Tar sus to become tbe prince of foreigu missionaries.—S. IS. Times. CUPS OF BLISS. BY MBS. ANNIE A. PBE3TON. I bear^this pleasant story the oth er day of an eccentric but very popu lar and pleasant old Dutch lieform Dootor of Divinity. In a village where he was preach ing; as supply, while the settled pastor was abseut in Europe, be was invited to attend the weekly receptious at a fashionable boarding school where two or three of his granddaughters were among the pupils. At the first of these brilliant and select gatherings which he dignified with his presence, Miss Bliss, the as sistant preceptress, a lovely little la dy, presided at the tea-urn. The guests weut to her tb have their shell like Ohiua cups filled or replenished, and sat or stood about the handsome rooms, sipping their tea, nibbling a sandwich, a tart or a bit of cake, and laughing and chatting in the delight fully informal way that made the •‘Locust Hill Seminary” teas the most popular social events iu the village. When tea was announced the fine old gentleman, who asnsnalhad been making himself generally agreeable, ! stationed himself beside .Miss Bliss, j and, as each cup was tilled, took it from her hand and passed it with a pleasant word t# the waiting guest After a while, having turned all eyes iu his direction by a witty repartee, and while every one waited with at tent ears to catch his next words, he j said: “At (trst thought it would seem lo be quite an exhibition of generosity I on iny part lor me, before I am scrv-! ed myself, to take these cops of Bliss | and pass them on until this whole large company is supplied; and it j would bs a generous act, were 1 not! sure that a sufficient quantity for the! needs of all present was back of the lair dispensing hand.” His listeners ail laughed at the pretty and apt play upon the name of the lovely young lady behind the tea-urn, but the aged miuister con tinued gravely: “It is just the same with the mes sage of salvation which I am holding out to you all, week by week. Was there only enough for the saving of enc soul iu this township, human na ture is so weak that 1 might be temp ted to retain that portion for myself instead of offering it for your accep tance ; but I know there is an inex haustible supply, so I have no temp tation to be selfish in the premises, and am only influenced by uiy desire for jour highest good. The message reads, ‘He, every one that tliir.sloth, ou/oe ye to the waters’—all joti have to do is to come, without, money and without price, and partake that your souls may live.” Tlieu, iu a deep voice, he continued, “What strauge ideas of politeness govern society ! What one of you is there, who would come here and of fend your hostess by refusiug the delicate aud delicious refreshments provided for your entertainment.— Yet day by day for years you do not hesitate to grieve jour Maker by re fusing the clip of Eternal Life, which is being continually held out to you by the bauds of Hie servants.” A gentleman who was present said the effect of these unexpected words, as expressed upon the laces of the gay company, was startling. It was putting an old thought in a new light, and when oce sweet young girl stand ing near the speaker said iu a trem bling voice: oeueve, sir, tuat wo would all gladly accept of that cup, if we had you to offer it to us aud to tell us about it”—others clustered eagerly about him; and the result was, the tea ended by the offering of a fervent frayer, followed in the days to come by a general awakeniug of religious life amoug both teachers and pupils iu the gay, fashionable, worldly youug ladies’ seminary, and a permanent aud most happy change in the tone of the school.—Christian Intelligencer. The Northern Christian Advocate gives the following occasion of an in cident of an interesting account re cently bad in Syracuse, X. Y. The meeting of the Woman’s For eign Missionary Society was held iu the First church on Monday after noon. The meeting was largely at tended and full of interest. Bishop Feck presided. After the report by Mrs. J. L. Willard was presented, Rev. Dr. Reid made the first address, speaking words of encouragement to the noble women of the church. Ur. Reid was tallowed iu a beautiful ad dress by Mrs. J. Easter. Mrs. J. L. Humphrey, late returned missionary, gave a thrilling account ot tier expe rience in the work in India. Toward the close of the services the Bishop asked the two ladies who are about to embark for Japan, to address the meeting. Mrs. Long, wife of Kev. Mr. Long, of the Uolsten Conference, tho made first address, relating her convictions in regard to the step she was taking. Iu a very tender aud womanly way she made the impres sion on all hearts that she was truly** in the lino of her duty. Miss Myra Haven, daughter ol Chancellor Ha ven, stated also with much clearness and force her own struggles and con victions iu coming to the conclusiou she had formed. She had consecra ted herself to the Lord, inquiring, “Lord, what wilt Thou have me to do 1" Then she had goue to her closet, aud with her Bible before her, asked Qod to reveal to her His will. Every passage ou which her eyes fell pointed to the missiou field. The Spirit enforced the Word, and now the transaction was doue, aud she felt that Japan was her adopted coun try. She should give it her lire, be it | long or short, for she felt it was the will of God. AH eyes were wet with tears as these dear daughters of the Church related in tiieir simple arid hcautilul way their convict ions and experiences. The report of M rs. Sec I'etarv \V illanl, gave assurance that the ladies ol Syraca.se are not im miudlul ol their obligalinrrsf white these new bonds just formed w ill only inspire great zeal in the cause of the Woman’s loreigu Missionary Society in tiitgre. a Chinese Temple Tubbed In to a ‘‘Jesus Chapei,!”—a large Chinese beatlren teiuple has hilel\ been turned into a Christian place ol worship in the north ot China. At a place called Sliioh Chin Thug, ihe Biiuaiouaries Stanley and ,Smith look ed at the galley where, at dead of uigbt, the gods w-eie hustled in. The summer rains had caused a hit ol a large god tu crumble olF. 'i he uien call it “Diviue Mud !” as the missionaries took up a handful of | he rooUteueileluy, aud threw it down, saying, ‘‘Lhist to dust, mud to mud !' The teuiphi looks very pleasant, in 1 ts chituged character, i hr* tw o large bells npw call Ihe people to worship the li\ lug Coo, instead of recalling, the idol, as the, supposed, from his teats aid slim.hers. 1„ j ho. limit temple ^uaiuyii c'ai ■< ,,i tiling spir its null tcuii’jlpmuU'U ,i:f still remain. i ue la.gor temple j makes a vtny mat im-Moa cimpei. with its Wuitcncu vi a.Is ami .scar'ei. painted post and beams. I he wood (II iuceuse-talde lias been t ;;l n iuto a preaching iahic. a;.d Urn hmi ehes are made Inm ihe ’platform 1 which an^poiied :1a- :,;,,;, Oil the temple iron; ii., •. : a j.u.^e• tablet, with ‘‘Jesus Chap. ." h.,Pi tiful Chinese cii.i: act: ; , |. ihe old Taooist -:gu. This templu How Slauds as a din tiut witness.to the until that <,.i » Spirit, ami from lime to time a . glorious gospel is proclaim!d in n. rhn villagers and way side tiavelcrs • liave a* yet finch of the truth to fatalism I i.lt: n: a; i:d.— A Hardshell Baptist minister, living Somewhere on the frontier ol .Missou ti, was in the Libit of saving to his family and to life ehnreh: ‘‘Friends, ron need not take any unusual care >f your lives; tie moment of your leath was written before the founda )f the world, ainlyou cannot alter it.” 3is wife observed when he left on Saturday, to uiees one of his frontier Missionary engagements, that he iressed the flint olhis rifle with mi lsual care, put dry*powder, fresh tow, wid took every pains to make sure ;liat the gun woald go off' iu ease he tame upon an Indian. It struck her, me day as she saw him in the saddle with his rifle on his shoulder that his jenduct contradicted his teaching, uid she said to him: “•My dear, why do yon take this was ‘writ’ be tide with you t If it fore the foundation of the world that you were to be killed daring this, trip by an Indian, that rifle won’t prevent it; and if you are not to be killed oi Bourse the rifle is unnecessary; so why lake it with yon at all F* “Yes,” he replied, “of course my dear, yon are all very right, and that is a very proper view; bik see here, my dear—new—ready—flat then you see, my dear, suppose I should meet id Indian while 1 am goal,! and his : time had come and I hadft’t my rifle with me,what would he dol Yes, my dear, we must all coutribil toward the fulfillment of tl of Providence. i our part decrees 1 No man ever conquered th w.orld dy piuing lor its riches, liters, or amusement; neither ear mi over come it by talking against it,( or by groaning beneath the burdens, alllic tious, ami disappointments which are inseparable lioui tin' earthly lite But this is “the victory that over cometh the world men our faith”— the faith by which God is made our truat'aud heavenmir treasure. \\ itli such a faith one can he happy w hetli 6T he be rich or poor. hen \\ dber lorce saw his wealth melt like snow , iu spring, he did not torture his soul , with useless regret, but turning his eyes away from his wretched estate.1 said, "1 know not wiiy my life issp|r ed so long, except it. he to show mat a man can he as happy without a tor tune as with one.” lie was able to make this sublime exhibition became iu losing his worldly susteuaneo life still retained his chief treasure wliic* was laid up iu heaven and was dnili foretasted in his spiritual fellow sliiJ with the living Jesus. Happy W U-1 berforee! And happy, too,is overyl u:an who constantly prays with St.l Augustiue i “Lord, let tny soul flee! from the scorching thoughts of the wor(d, uuder the cover of Thy wings, that being refreshed by Thy shadow, she may sing merrily. In peace 1 will lay me down and rest.—Zion's Uerald. if » - • . r jpiiUt 'M rs. Thcti' I.. !i , ■ that tl.r dilih. , dim.* have : • .ill their (:i .. . .should hr; mi . more. Tot- ; the i.l!n d;.\ iiml storhiit <>!' ■ pay to i'- c ninny lai me; .-. li' j on iho • I liny sort i»-U- . them while then •from mole nr, Ayein, ni.iM'. ditelnnl as ■ can be m* : • not sullieieliiiy NOlRC liit illS 1‘ • ; 1 of It, Vet U ;i j y; ready boned• lor drained. !.-■ d; toiling iii-. before l iju a u. • ; tuunit a• : «11;J i: v KUiCb ia She and > ai e. pidt*.. i.r ; iCMC: :; is \ . • SI Ye. {,-:•> rail a or !• r Gem*r b!.. : . ! iiaii l.. ■ innu Hit- ri", . ■ l,‘ in the laud ’i 11 irW , : an 4>:«3ent«. .. . , ;n.s : proper cV.v* limners to protect rk as they t-ime ;•>ereet • . jjuvp;o*e for : . s I he snows ■ r. , ii dors unt , .4 , „ . • • U'lOt'Sf IsS . uc (lo. . ; halter of i.. ,ut: Jiuikling .:ttln'£ leisure ... e not as well ■ bes inland '» ve that is :n-d, ,iid .while! or verjj little i v otfid be! a lit lid bet-! his ndlter . .iiliire ! - ; ..eon but j As | many open j .b and are i.an atfoid i . iaiii o.. 1 i 1 i>, i-. ..* ihum o 1 up. j>. : 1 or 1 a...b ! lit* oiliMf;.; < j 11 i re s 1 a«> i r them 1 iota wilt! aid or . h>i in ... i;. ... he adhered \ ■ ■ Woodhilul • ' jrrt lieeb> a suet ion is no, .>,■ : . i blush lor tii,.- > : i he arran^cmt • ml of tlie , ad expen . • iI this ;■ :V.intake. , . » s.s ten res ;» i iie sjoirl: i.r only in 1 r.iiti make ad si] on£. ■a.•f ifties 11 - fo enclose • sled if they . 1 lie m pi are .. and should a : don^ii some .!!iissnb .... idler ; our f.il ! aces; . .. mei on-.ht to . a.-, i'eiices. a i.aiii buiiuiims and ground: . cutty very bad, entailing- much inuideaml in a u> extra steps- ;;s the farmer daily trudges arc:,: i a -to the other. Many build u di. ... regard to this matter, remains uucorrected . v perhaps lor generations. i.a.lit much trouble be avoided, but tin: expen.se of budding :.... materially les sened-by placing :h tana buildings, such as barn, tables, eat tic sheds, feed Utia.se:, and d.i . : . for wagons ami harness, in. proximity and its far as p. ? ■ - uu ler the same shelter. Tne ml . ■ of such an arrangement w. :.l:l beti adily seen in stormy \Ve;t: i.er. i . eases where the tanner smew we would auv .e tilts topic close — Viue mince corrosive sublimate; sluice well before using it. Wbea applying it rub well with a cob. Af ter the tistnla baa advanced several days, take one quart whiskey and on* quart soft soap, put together in a kettle and make it boiling hot, and while it is boiliug hot pour it grada ally oh the diseased part. This nu/ seem severe, hut it is a certain car*, ion will have to coniine the hors* m he can’t jump about. Rub the burn with bog’s lard, and it will soon get we!!. When the fistula has broken, the following is a sure cure: 1 *s. Milestone, 2 oz. red precipitate, 9 os. arsenic; pulverise well together; in sert to the bottom of the lislulu by means of a quill. Keep well cleaned and continue the application natil the fistula will come out by the root*. ! lien apply mustang Liniment freely. Another most excellent remedy for the listula is to keep the place clean and well tilled with a mixture of salt and soft soap. This I am using now with good success. Bleeding in the neck in all cases is very profitable, what is good for fistula is good for pud evil.—J. J. O., in Courier Jour. Since the heavier work of the sum mer has been completed, we know many, progressive farmers have been busy preparing compost and other manure for future use. Some we bav* heard ol were composting marl and muck from the swamps—or rather it was not muck, but the partially de ity ed vegetable matter, and iu some nases peat, the accumulation of ages. This matter from the swamps iu cow biuation with marl makes a moat ex i'eileut manure for almost any crop, the proper proportions are one fourth marl to three-fourths of the other.— The two may be taken directly totb* ib id and deposited in large heaps convenient to the ground to be ferti lized. Got out now it will be fit for use iu October, at which time it may he broadcast and the laud plowed.— iir the heaps may be left till next spring and the compost applied at i he time in the drill or hill.—Rural Messenger. Cooking Kick.—Pick over the Coe ami wash it iu cold water; to one pint of rice put three quarts of boiliug water aud half teaspoon of .-ait.; boil it just seventeen minuted Uoui the time it begins to boil; to ■ off all the water; sot it over a mod ■ ate lire with the cover off, to sto s fifteen minutes. Take care and accurate. The rice water first poors iff' is good to stiffen muslins. Wasii your horses and cattle sionally in this weather, with carboH soap; the flies are not partial to f md will trouble your animals me css. Also, don’t be too particnlai sweep down tho spider webs in y 'tables ; spiders eat flies, and v fly caught iu a cobweb is reny liorn all farther temptation tr your horse. Okra Gumbo.—Pat in one spoonful of lard, cut up the r aud adi he lard with a of flour ; let it fry awb’lf -T0U quart of okra cut up-buy eioh tvvo spoonfuls of onfluubl,J,3i‘rT'' eu ; cook about fiviaa try oue quart ot wateTOM SMITt About 15 minutes pepper and salt t y p . PPDDiwaai^ at50c Botter Raping t*^poo^UGST0Rf, li.tie water, audt boiling water; add’.tion 0,‘ p° as large as a walm taste. Just before t WEBB. a teaspoonful of let— Serve hot. r., m -iy " J ELLY.—Plum,Si and apple, are ma f.i uise, cover with each pint of juice hal hod, skim, try a lit it jellies pnt into cover with sugar aa per ou top, 1 he seed of unfiowsn it*t healthy feed that can be « horses in wiuter and spring* pint a day keeps them in h£’ spirit, with sleek coats, and mated than any other far*01* vents ‘‘heaves” and aom iasos. " B0* All sears made t, urge branches of treo. minted or tarred, or Va ected from the ees become holla K POPU nature decay, fjori, at whole iug tluough oltail at •riming. 3 Drug store. a and Mason’s. SUB'S Drag Store.