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 — Vi<sVcu i l n[a _
.Much iitii.-. : £Ue farms
merely by eh the It eattoa of
houses. _\i . i.u.e to attend
to it.
Thus even farmer, i; tie will look
around, will be p:--.:y sure to discov
er something that weal . add to the
value of his farm, increase its produc
tive capacity, or u.al.e atm life labo
rious and unpleasant. Neglect of
these tblugsentails nmay discomforts,
losses, <ta«lvexatious, a little change
here ifW?. there would aecomplish
much to yoitr pet aland oeenuiyy
bctietir. Take u: a or two around
your liirms. . e . . d, ermine what
should be dor . . tin :: employ the
opportunity^.: , i the. present
leisure to do it. .. l.-isucnijer.
A (iDBEKii; So van Iln'L'A — As
Clio season for snake stos irsand.snake
bifis is at hand, some ono advises
limiters, fishermen, and all seekers
airor pleasure iiitlu, woods and fields
t:lk'' *,th »ii their tours a
supply of ammonia^ which, taken m I
wardl.v, is an almost: certain rented\!
lor the lute ot the most poisonous
tept.les. When taken inwar<yy the I
ammonia should he dilated with wa-1
ter, hut taken in as large and -strong
.1 dose as t he patient ran well swab I
knv without taking the skin from the
mouth and throat, and it should be
ipplied at the satin time to the wound
ititil the pain ami swotting are sab
le ed.
I Aetu.K Little-, Put.—Hind ;llui ,
lire oi one lemon, y: co of butter 1
»r.e ot a walnut, two apples chopped 1
ie, one egg, one cup ot sugar. Hake [
'\h upper crust.
\ V
TRFATMf NT IN FISTULA AND POLL '
EVIL. %
To cure fistula iu horses, when it
hist in.ikes its appearance, til* fol
lowing remedy will do: One-half
pint turpentine, oucbalfpint alcohol
■Hid <>ue 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.