SUJN
IN ESSENTIALS, UNITY;
IN NON-ESSENTIALS, lIBERTY;
-.... . , , . i uM-.iit «--- ■**»’■*■ L*-1-*" • - ■ r*»— —
IN ALL THINGS, CHARITY.
Volume XXXIII.
SUFFOLK, YA., FRIDAY SEPTEMBER lO, 1880.
.TNT umber
36.
AGA!ftST_THE COLO.
BY MARGARET J. PRESTON.
"Alfa Pvltr stood mid watrmd himself.”
The rrrjr Christ of whom he bore
Si< l» bold, brave witness but a few
S^'l day* agone—the Christ he knew
Had raised from death one week btlore,
Lazarus of Uetliany—he saw
Now in the dutch of Roman law,
Dragged midmost o’er the pavement stone,
ioutid, mocked, forsaken of his own,
And—"stood and warmed hinuelj !"
He patched the soldiers rudely strip
A nay the robe the Marys made,
And pluck the inner garment frayed
By brutal wrenchings— marked the lip
Shiver, as o'er the flesh laid bare,
Plevf gusts of chilling midnight air ;
Yet, by the sight not smitten dead,
Above the brazier's flame be spreud
His hantJs—warmed himaelf!"
lie lie»fd u maid say, “Here, hcliold,
One of this man's disciples: lie
Speaks with the speech of Galilee.”
Ail, liken—all, there, his blood rail cold ;
And ns the leaping blase rose higher,
Among the crowd that girt the lire,
With sharp, reiterate, angry “Any,"
He thrust his arms and pressed his way,
And crouched, “and warmedhimself
“Yes, thou art one of them.’ He .heard
*1 he charge come back and back again,
Tossed from flic-mouths of jeering men ;
Xnd as with oaths be flung the word
Straight in their teeth, he sudden turned, „
And ah, that look 1—it burned and burned
As if Gehenna's hottest coal
Hud down into his deepest sonl
Dropped, while "he warmed himself.”
JIis hands lit could no more uphold ;
Remorse, despair, self-loathing, woe,
,pu 'e at his heart; he did not know
ir it well’ night—if it were cold—
He neither l.'okcd behind, before,
Nor dared, though she who kept the door,
Said, “Surely this was he who drew
The sword on MalchuS; Malchus knew
Him, as 1 'he' wantted himself.”
But prone upon the ground he lay,
Abject thro’ horror, rucked with shame,
Too stricken to name the Master’s name,
Remembering, till the dawn of day,
How thro’ His mystic anguish, hty.
Had mingled with that cootpen_v
Of mockersdn the High Priest's
As one of them, and watched it a.
“And ‘stood and warmed l\
» * * So is it still 1 We skulkTfar
With scarce the scoffed-at Christ in sight,
Nor do the wrong, nor dare the right,
Poor, trembling cravens that we are I
And while our Lord is being betrayed,
We lurk nmong His foes, afraid
To own Him ; yet, like him of old,
We comfort us against the cold,
And, stand and warm ourselves 1
—Sunday School Times.
^eluiion^
THE RESULTSOF MISSIONS.
rprt.'ui a lecture delivered at the
Foreign Missionary Institute, Chau
tauqua Assembly grounds, Mew York,
Tuesday, Ai.'gust 3d, 1880, by Henry
K. Carroll.]
Missionaries have oeeu at work
many years, and millions of dollais
have been expended. The results
oiijjUt, therefore, to be large, eveu
alter due allowance has beeu made
or the preparatory stages of missions
and for special difficulties. Hut what
shall bo included in the term “re
sults!” The “results” which the
churches look for are spiritual in their
iituro, hut many desire to know the
tionetary value of missions. Some
people cannot grasp the idea of sue
Jess except iu the form of dollars and
tents. So much money, they reason,
tas been invested iu missions. How
inch have we received in return t
Sphere is little difficulty in answering
this question, because there is no
dcubt that missions have a value to
commerce, as well as spiritual vuiuc
They have conferred great benefits on
mankind in commerce, morals, poli
tics, society, science, and education,
tMid it is proper to include these bene
flt£» in estimating “results.” Missions
exer*' an unmeasured influence on
man in all bis relations in Hie. They
have gou « to the salvage and degra
dcd people of the South Seas and
Africa, and wrought a revolutio:
among them. .fhel they were en
gaged in wars of’ plunder, devasta
tion, and slavery, without peace or
security, society, o< industry; now
they form peaceful communities, with
society and governu eut, and follow
industrial pursuits, t ms contributing
'^o and receiving fron the markets ol
(the world. Sir Tlidt as Fowell Bus
Jon says tlyvt most! of the trade ol
Lagos, which amou| s to $4,000,000
a year, is due to thej industry of the
natives of Sierra Le ne, trained uu
der missionary ausp les. A hundred
years ago Capt. Coo was murdered
by ,t)|e savages of t e Sandwich Is
lands ; now HouodIi n is an impor
tant commercial por , with a trade ol
#
over $3,000,000 iv year. Other is
lands, which used to be the terror of
shipwrecked sailors', are now valued
for their commerce, and it is estima
ted that every additional missionary
sent to the South Seas is worth $50,
000 a year to British commerce. Com
mercial-enterprise follows closely af
ter the Central African missions, to
which the thrifty merchants of Scot
land and England gave liberally, be
licYing that the money was well in
vested. A merchant urged the mis
sionaries in New Guinea to push for
ward as rapidly as possible, iu order,
ho said, to develop trade. The mis
sions in India have been repeatedly
recognized li.v Indian statesmen as
gf.the utmost value to the govern
ment. Lord Lawrence,,who was gov
eruor-geueral of India, said that the
missionaries had done more than all
other ageucies combined to beuetit
• hum. Jjoru rtapier satu missions
“tier hand in Laud with the govern
ment in raising the intellectual stan
dard of the Indian people and in
forming for the service of the state a
body of public servants of intelligence
and morality.” In Turkey the civili
zing and elevating iiillueiice of 1’ro
testaut. missions, affirmed by every
intelligent observer, is immeasurably
great. The same is true of other
mission Helds. Tho gospel every
where makes moral, intelligent, in
dustrious, and useful citizens.
There is another class of results—
the advantages which science has re
ceived from the labors and observa
tions of tbe missionaries. If Sydney
Smith were alive to-day, lie would
see the men of whom he spoke con
temptuously as “consecrated cob
blers” receiving high honors. He
would find in nearly every issue ol
the two leading Euglish literary
weeklies (the Atheamum and Acade
my) uotices of missionary travels and
exploration. He would observe how
frequently missionaries appear in the
proceedings of the Itoyal Geographi
cal Society, as authors of papers or
as recipients of honors. The bones
of a missionary, known wherever
books are known, for his labors and
travels in Africa, lie in Westminster
Abbey, aud his mouumeut in Edin
burgh is not needed to perpetuate
the memory of one of England’s no
blest eitizens, David Livingstone.—
The contributions of the missionaries
of geographical knowledge have been
numerous and important; but they
have also furnished copious and val
uable materials for the students of
philology and ethnography. They
Have reduced many unwritten luu
guages to writing aud compiled nu
merous dictionaries and grammars.
These works, which are indispensable
to the study of.the history, sfcpara
tiott, aud migrations of the greet hu
man family and the kinship cjf peo
ples and tongues, are uow easily ac
cessible.
All fbese and other material re
sults, which alone would justify the
existence of missions, the Cbprcb of
Christ looks upon as incidental. The
single aim of missions is the 'conver
sion of souls, the value of winch no
man can estimate. They werfi bought
with a price which wonld dot have
been-paid for all the universe!besides;
aud all the money which has been
spent on missions is as nothing, in
^the sight of God, compared with the
worth of the son! of the moist degra
ded heathen of the wilds of Africa,
tbe jungles of India, or thof icy soli
tudes ol’Greenland. If missions have
brought one soul to the knowledge,
love, aud worship of the one true
God, they have done that over which
ifhe angels in Heaven rejoice. But
'the l'ruits of missions are not few or
hard to find. Every, mission and
every mission station tbyt has been
planted bears them. In India, which
has been, perhaps, the hardest field
of all, there are about 9a,000 native
Ubriatiaii com mu mean tB; m Africa,
80,000; in Polynesia and Australasia
78,000; in Madagascar, 68,000; in
Cbinu and Japan, 18 000; in Burrnah
20,000. In these Helds alone there
are upward of 850,000 communicants.
The total in all fields is, perhaps, over
half a milliou, besides the adherents
(those who have renounced heathen
ism or other untrue religions and ac
cepted Christianity), who are more
than twice as numerous. There must
be fully 1,700,000 souls who, as mem
bers and adhereuts, own and glorify
the name of Christ. But these are
uot all the fruits. Thousands, having
lived the life ot the righteous, have
gone to receive the reward of the
righteous.
And what shall 1 say more J For
die time would fail me to toll of Mada
gascar, aud of Fiji, and of Hawaii,
tu*l of Burma!], aud of peoples who
I through faith and the preaching of
missionaries subdued the kingdoms
oiaarkness aud superstition, wrought
righteousness, queuehed the violence
of war, eslenped from idolatry ami
barbarism, oat of weakness were
made strong, waxed valiant in light,
and turned to flight the army of
aliens which had encompassed them.
That they might obtain a better res
urrection, they have hud trials of
mobkjugs and scourging*, of bonds
and imprisonment; they have been
tempted, cast oil' by family and
friends; they have been destitute,
afflicted, tormented, esteeming the
reproach of Christ greater riche* than
the. treasures of Kgypt,
,<As the constraining love of Christ
shall run from heart to heart, like
celestial fire, melting away the muss
es of pagans aud unbelievers, the
time of the fnlfllmeut of the prophecy
ofjJohn will be near at baud, when
it slAll be said: “The kingdoms of
the world are become the kingdoms
of our Lord, and of bis Christ; aud
ho shall reign forever and over.”
ROBERT RAlKESJJF GLOUCESTER.
Whether or no Hubert. Haikes was
the first man to gather cliililren to
getber l'or instruction on the Lord's
day uiay tie questioned. It would
not be light to atlirm that the germs
at least, of what we know as the Sab
bath-seiiool, are not to be found loug
prior to his day. Iudeetl. not with
out success are those germs traced at
least as far back as the Jewish syna
gogue. But it js due to Hubert Haikes
tnat we have to-day that institution
which wo call the Sunday;school, and
which has been and is so mighty an
instrument of good.
Hubeit ltaikes was born in Glou
cester, England, Sept. 14, 173o. This
beautiful ca. he lral town, somewhat
famous for tile names it has given to
English history,was his home through
tlie whole of his life. His father was
the proprietor of a newspaper of con
siderable importance and iutiueuee,
the “Gloucester Journal,” and Hob
ert, who was brought up to the prin
ter’s trade, succeeded him in the con
trol of the paper.
Haikes seems to have been a born
philanthropist. Long before be com
menced his Sunday-school work he
had been doing what he could to re
form Gloucester jail, where the condi
tiou of the prisoners was most pitia
ble. His labors here earned for him
the title of “Teacher of the Poor.”
Of the condition of society some idea
may be formed from a paragraph in
liaikes’ Journal of -June, 1783, which
says, “The prison is already so full
that,all the gaoler’s stock of fetters
is occupied, and the smiths are hard
at work casting new ones.” Another
paragraph shows the direction in
winch his mind was turning : “The
ships about to sail for Botany Bay
will carry about one thousand miser
able creatures, who might have lived
perfectly happily in this country had
they beeu early taught good princi
ples, and to avoid the danger of asso
ciating with those who make sobriety
and industry the objects of their ridi
cule.”
His labors among the prisoners
turned Haikes’ attention to the youug.
Seeing some wretchedly ragged chil
dren playing in the street, and learn
ing of the noise and riot which made
the Sabbath hideous, he engaged four
women, who kept what were known
as “dame schools,” to leach such chil
dren as he should send to them on
the Sunday. These teachers were
paid a shilling per Sunday for their
services.
The flrst school was started in the
house of a Mr. King, in July, 1780.
Haikes established a second one im
mediately in his own parish. All the
conditions that he required of the
children were, “clean faces, clean
hands, and hair combed.” They were
instructed in readiug and writing,
and in the catechism. The results
were soon seen in the change for the
better in the streets of Gloucester.
This work of Haikes was very dif
ferent, as is at once apparent, from
our modern idea of the bubbatb
sehool, particularly as developed iu
this country. But the work grew.—
Itaikes advocated it, with singular
self-forgetfulness, but with much
force, in his Journal. The numbers
of schools in Gloucester multiplied,
aud the idea was taken up all over the
kingdom, so that in 1789 there were
nojess tbau 300,000 Sabbath-school
scholars in Great Britain. The sys
tem everywhere commended it seif.
has promised to effect a change of
manners with equal ease aud simpli
city, siuce the days of the apost les.”
The Wesleyaus are said to have
originated the idea of conducting
Sunday-schools by nnpaid teachers.
All the Nonconformists were ready
to recognise the value of voluntary
Sunday-school work, aud gradually
this method entirely superseded the
earlier one, and gratuitous instruc
tion became the universal riile.
Robert Raikes was a man of great
an lability, and at tbe same lime of
tiriunesR. He was singularly modest,
but withal possessed of strength of
character and practical tact, lie is
described as “father tall, somewhat
portly, of fajr completion, and most
benevolent expression of counte
nance.” At the age of sixty seven be
retired from business with a compe
tency. He died at his residence in
Gloucester, April 5, 1811, iu his sev
euty-sixtb year.
The commemoratiou of tlie iea'eu
ary of the formation of Raikes’ first
Sunday-school, took place iu Lon
don, occupying the week from
Jane 20 to duly !?. On the last
day the Raikes’ memorial statue on
the Thames Embankment was un
veiled. Tbe whole oeCasion was one
of great interest.—Illustrated Cltrix
tian Weekly.
THE PRECIOUS BIBLE.
We are begotten by the word of
God : it is the instrumental means of
regeneration. Therefore love yom
Bibles. Keep close to your Bibles.
Yon seekingSinners; you who are
seeking the Lord, your first business
is to believe in the Lord .leans Christ;
but while you are yet in darkness
and in glooiu, Ob,love your Bibles aud
search them! Take them to bud
with you ; and when you wake up in
the morning, if it is too earl* to go
downstairs aud disturb the bo\ ■», get
halfan-hour of reading u]\>tairs.
Say, ‘.‘Lord 1 guide we to that text
which shall bless me. Help too to
understand how i, a poor sinner, can
be reconciled to Thee.”
1 recollect how, when I was seek
iug the Lord, I went to my Bible,
and to Baxter’s “Call to the Uncon
verted,” and to Allen’s “Alarm,” aud
Doddridge’s “liise and progress :”for
I said in myself, “1 aiu afraid that I
shall be lost; but I will know the
reason why. I am afraid 1 never
shall find Christ; but it shall not be
for want of looking for Him.” That
fear used to haunt me ; but I said,”I
will hud him, if he is to be fouud. I
will read. I will think.”
There was never a soul that J^ijl
sincerely seek for J§S8Slatfbe, World,
but by-aud by be stumbled ou the
precious truth that Christ was near
at baud,aud did uot want any looking
for; that He was really there, only
they, poor blind creatures, were in
such a maze, that they, could uot just
then see Him. Oh, cliug you to
Scripture! Scripture is uot Christ;
but it is the silken clue which will
lead you to Him. Follow its leading
faithfully.
Wheu you have received regenera
tion and a uew life, keep on reading,
because it will comfort you. You
will see more of wbat the Lord has
done for you. You will learu that
you are redeemed, adopted, saved,
sanctified. Half the errors in the
world spring from people not readiug
their Bibles, Would anybody think
that the Lord would leave any one of
his dear children to perish, if he read
such a text as this,—“I give unto my
sheep eternal life, aod they shall nev
er perish, neither shall any pluck
them out of My hand ?” When I
read that, I am sure of the final per
severance of the saiuts. Bead, theu,
the Word, and it will be much for
your comfort.
It will be for your nourishment,
too. It; is your food as well as your
life. Search it, aud you will grow
strong in the Lord and in the power
ot his might.
It will be for your guidance also.
I am sure, those go rigbtest, who
keep closest to the book. Oftentimes,
when you do not kuow what to do,
you will see a text leapiug up out of
the book, and paying, “Follow me.”
1 have seen a promise blaze out be
fore my eyes, just as wheu ag illumi
nated device flames forth upou a pub
lic buildiug. Oue touch of flame, aud
a seuteuce or a design flashes out iu
gas. I have seeu a text of Scripture
flame,forth iu that way to ihy soul;
I harg, known that it was God’s word
to me, e»i,d I bare goue ou my way re
^oioipg.—u rgeon.
TH£ TENDERNESS OF CHRIST.
Here is another! He is tbe most
bruised and broken of all; one who
bad 'imagined himself strong iu faith,
giving gjprj to God—but one who
bad ignomiuiously bent before the
blast of temptatiou and bad denied
his Diving ii^ster with oaths aud
qilrses. tfan there be aught of ten,
deruess manifested towards Ihe rene
gade apostle t ‘^Surely he has placed
himself, by his heinous guilt aud cra
ven cowan}ice, beyond the pale of for
givet^ss. Ko,; wheu we might have
thought the heart be had ungenerous
ly wounded was alienated from him
forever, there was first a “look” of in
finite love—a melting glance, which
(seut him forth to weep bitter'tears
I over foul ingratitude; and subse
iquently a message, entrusted to the
angel-guardian of the sepulchre and
conveyed by him to the free women.
‘-Go your way, tell His disciples and
l’eter" Mark xvi. 7. “Go, tell the
most faithless of My .followers that
even for him there is still a place in
My tonder regard. Go, tell this wan
dering bird, with drooping wings and
soiled plbmage, that even for him
there is a place of shelter still open in
the clefts ol the liock.” Nay, more;
when Jesus met him subsequently on
the shores of Genuessaret, instead of
dragging afrpsh to light, painful mem
ories of abused kindness and broken
vows, all now too deeply felt to lined
being recalled, no severer utterance
for uu worthy apostasy was pro
nounced than the gentle rebuke con
veyed in the thrice repeated chal
lenge, “Lovcst thou uin 1” * * *
indued, when pronouncing some of
His most impressive woes and tbreat
cnings, Christ appears, at limes, as d
Jie dreaded IcsL any broken hearted
one might nnsioterpet Jiis sayings,
and eouslrne llis wraLii against sin
and hypocrisy as indicating a want of
consideration to tliu penitent. Take
as an exampte the occasion when Ho
had been proclaiming stern words re
gaidmg tne contemporary “siulul
generation”; more espcially rebuking
them for their blind unbelief iu tbe
midst of light and privilege; declar
ing that for thhse eitics which hail
scorned His message (Choraziu, Beth
saida, and Capernaum,) it would be
more tolerable itt tbe day of judg
ment for Bodorn and Gomorrah than
fur them. He seems suddenly to
pause. The storm has exhausted it
self. Possibly amid the crowd who
had just listened to these vocables of
wratb, His omnisceut eye discerned
some trembling outcast—some brittle
reed or sapling bending beueath the
hurricane. He will not sutler it to^
l>e broken. He will not permit the
wind aud earthquake and tire to pass,
without being followed by a “still
small voice”—uud then it is that the
words (unparalelled imthetr tender
ness aud beauty among' all He ever
spake) come like a gleam
tempest, or like a rainbow encircling
with its lovely hues the angry skies,
‘Come unto Me, all ye that lahot aud
are heavy laden, aud I will give you
rest.”—Clifts of the Hock.
HOW A MILLER COLLECTED THE PAS
TOR’S SALARY. .
A worthy miller—as the srory is
told iu the Rev. Duncan Dunbar’s
memoir—was once paiued by hearing
that the miuister was going away for
the waut of support, the church hav
ing decided they could no longer
raise his salary. He called a meet
ing aud addressed his brethren very
modestly, for he Was-oue of the poor
est among the epmfortable farmers.
He asked if tbe waut of money was
the only reason for this change, and
if all were uuited in desiring the ser
vices of the pastor, could they still
keep him. There was but one voice
in reply. The pastor was useful and
beloved ; but the flock was so poor !
“Well,” replied the miller, “I have
a plan by which I can raise his salary
without askiug one of you for one dol
lar, if you will allow me to take my
owu way to do it. I will assume the
responsibility for one year, Have I
your consentl”
Of course they could not refuse
this; although they expressed sup
rise, kuowiug ihe miller to he but a
poor man.
The year drew a close. The
miuister had been messed iu his la
hors, and no one had been called on
for money. When they came togeth
er, the miller asked tho pastor it his
wants had been supplied! and bis sal
ary promptly met. He replied in the
affirmative. Wheu the brethren
were asked if they were any poorer
tnan at ttio liegiuiug ot tho year,each
one replied “No,” and asked how they
could he whcu they had paid uothirg.
He asked again. “Is any man hero
any poorer lor keeping the minister f”
and the reply was the same as before.
“Tiled,” he said, “brethren, i. have
ouly to tell you that you have paid
the salary the same as you always
did only more of it, and with grentei
promptness. You remember you
told me to take my own way in this
matter, and I have done so. As each
ol you brought his grist to the mill, I
took out as much grain as I thought
youf your proportion, and laid it
away for the salary. Wheu harvest
was over I sold it and have paid t lie
miuister regularly from the proceeds.
You coufess that you are uo poorer,
.ao you never missed it, aud therefore
made no sacrifice. Now I propose
that tie atop talking about poverty,
and about letting our minister go,and
add enough to bis salary to make us
feel that wo are doiug something t”
Jlr Dunbar used to say, “Oh, for a
miller iu every church V’
|;mn mul '|ire::i(Ie.
*» J
HAVE YOU GOT A BRiER HOCK ?
If you have, now is tlio time to be
using it with the greatest advantage
I to yourself and farm generally. First
| grind it sharp and then take it out to
I the ditch sides and fence corners, and
■Cut away the briers, weeds and.shrubs
that have sprung up during the pres
ent year. They are soft and easily
cut now, and the work of dealing the
ditches and fences can lie done in
shorter time and with less labor than
at any other period of the year. Xo
other implement we ever saw is so
good as the brier hook for this work
— w»rl; that is so generally neglected
because it is such an unpleasant job
at other seasons and with otherimple
ments. Every farmer ought to have
one or more brier-hooks, and ho
M1UUIU UU St't'II USIIIg IIICII1 llUUlli U1IS
time annually. lie can accomplish
as much in a day at tiiis .season with
this tool,s#i lie can in half a wee!: in
winter with the grubbing or lulling
hoe. Every ditch side and fence lock
on the farm should be neatly cleared
of the intruding bushes aud thorns.
The fences will last longer for having
the suu and air let in to them, and the
farm generally would wear an improv
ed appearance for having this work
done now.
On many farms, no doubt, there is
also a wilderness of weeds about Mi -
grounds and out-buildings that ought
to be removed. As it is they harbor
insects, vermin, snakes, &c., shade
and rot the fences, and are a nuisance
generally. The brier-honk is just
the implement to cut them with, after
which they may be taken to the farm
yard or compost heaps. Grass about
the lawn and yard has grown long
•and unsightly alsoA The same imple
ment, made sharp, will shave it off
at the surface very neatly, if rightly
handled. Cut it at once and cure it
for hay.
Thus this implement, employed at
the right time and in the right way,
^becomes one of the most valuable
and necessary upon the farm.
Strange it is that so few farmers own
one. Good management on the farm
consists in knowing when to do a job
to the greatest advantage. It does
the work easily, quickly, and in small
jobs, as the right time fordoing them
comes around. Bear this fact iu
mind, aud mind also that you do not
forget the brier-hook and that now
is the time to use it.—Rural Messen
ger.
TANNING SHEEPSKiNS.
The following directions are copied
from the Country Gentleman of.Au
gust 31st, 187 L:
“Take two long-wooled skins : make
strong suds, using hot water; when
cold wash the skin in it, carefully
squeezing them between the hands
to get the dirt out of the tvool; then
wash the soap out with clean cold
water. Now dissolve alum and salt,
each half a pound, with a iittie hot
water sufficient, to cover the skins,
and let them soak in it over night, or
twelve hours; then hang over a pail
to drain. When well drained,
spread or stretch carefully over a
board to dry. When a little damp
have one ounce each of saltpetre and
atom (pulverized), and sprinkle tiesh
side of each skin, rubbing it well;
then lay the flesh sides together, and
hang them iu the shade for two or
three days, turning the under side
uppermost every day until perfectly
dry. Then scrape the flesh side with
a blunt knife to remove any remain
ing scraps of flesh ; trim oil' project
ing points, and rub the flesh side
"ith pumice or rotten stone, and
with the hands.”
Clays.—Treat- them generously and
kindly but do not keep them tat, nu
less they are turned off into beef. A
cow is a1! machine, a laboratory lor
I converting raw material into milk.
If little be given little will be receiv
ed. All animals should have exer
cise especially those kept for breed
ing. Some of them are naturally lazy,
but they will be better for stirring
about in the opeu air. It is cruel to
! keep animate tied up or shut up for
! days at a time. They need light too.
; Direct sunshine exerts a powerful in
; iluenee for good on animals as well
I as on plants. Do uot overlook a
■ good supply of pure watei two or
| three times a day, or good ventela
| tiou and proper cleaning of stables.
! W ben the ground is frozen and cov
ered with snow, if may be well enough,
ou pleasant da.vs'to scatter thefodder
and allow the stofck pleuty of room' to
to pick it up; but when muddy uo
i oue but a sloveu will feed fodder ou
the grouud. Gool racks should -be
I made lot the sakeobf coavenieuco and
bcououty;
SELECTED RECEIPTS.
Soap for Wan:.—A j»i«*ce of while
Castile soil]) is bettor than wax for
smoothing white sowing cotton, anil
is especially good for the very yonng
seamstresses who have not learned to
kiuqvtheir small fingers quite clean.
The blackest seam will be white after
one washing, 'f soaped cotron bo
used.
I
Genuine Boston Bboavn Bread.
—Sift together three teacupluls of
Indian meal, two of rye meal (not
flour), one of wheat Hour, a teacupful
of syrup or molasses, a teaspoouful of
salt; mix with one quart of sweet
milk, in w hich one tablespoonful of
soda has been dissolved. Bake four “
hours in a moderate oven in a cover
ed pan.
A Fine Bread Budding.—Take
three pints of milk, boil arid sweeten
it with half a pound of sugar; add a
small grated nutmeg and half a pound
lot butter while it is warm. J’otir it
boiling hot. oyer twelve ounces of gra
ted bread crumbs, and cover it up for
tv time. Beat up ten eggs and mix
all together, and then bake iu a dish
or pie-plates lined with pastry.
Fish Fritter*.—-Take tlia re
mains of any fish which has been
served the preceding day ; remove all
ol the bones, and mince line; add.
equal quantities of bread crumbs and
mashed potatoes; stir in two beaten
eggs; season with pepper and salt;
add enough ci-catu to make the mass
of the proper consistoney to mould
into little balls, and fry them in boil
ing iard.
Stuffing for Fish.—Chop a small
onion and fry it in a tablespoouful of
butter; when turning yellow add
three ounces of bread crumbs, a table
spoonful of water, pepper, salt aud a
little chopped parsley ; stir all well
together, then take from the fire and
add the yolk of a beaten egg. If the
bread is verj dry it can be soaked
for a few moments iu cold water; then
squeeze dry.
Chicken Croquettes (Delmon
ico.)— Two sweetbreads, boiled; one
teacupful ol boiled chicken, hashed;
one boiled onion, one teacupful boiled
bread and milk, quarter pound but
ter, salt and pepper. Chop chicken
aud sweetbreads very fine, mix in
well the other ingredients, shape into
rolls, then dip in the yolk of an egg,
then iu cracker dust; drop iuto boil
iug lard aud fry brown.
Tojiatoe Meat Pie.—Cover the
bottom of a pudding-dish with bread
crumbs, then make a layer of cold
roasted mutton chopped fine, then
j layer of tomatoes sliced, then another
I layer ef bread crumbs, another of
’ meat, and another of tomatoes, then
! cover with bread crumbs and bake
until the crust is done brown ; season
as you put the different layers in
| with salt, pepper and small pieces of
\ butter; it will bear high seasoning.
Serve hot.
I Corn Meal Pudding with
Fruit.—Three pints of new milk,
one heaping cup of corn meal aud one
even cup of flour; four beaten eggs,
one cnp of white sugar; two table
spoonfuls of melted butter; one-half
pound of raisins cut and seeded ; one
teaspoonful each of tak and eiuna
mon; three teaspoonfnls of baking
powder sifted with the flour. Scald
the milk and stir in the meal, then
add the sugar, beaten eggs, butter,
spice and fruit,,, well dredged wilk
flour. When well mixed aift in the
flour and beat fast for two minutes.
Bake in a buttered dish iu a well
heated oven. It will be done in from
forty-five minutes to an hour. Should
it brown too fast cover with paper.
Fat as soon as done with creamed
butter and sugar.
Apple Short Cake.—Stew te
der, juicy apples in a very little w
until they are smooth and
then season them with sugar, a 1
blitter and a pinch of salt. Ma
short cake of a pint of floor
with two teaspoons of baking,
aud a little salt. Bub a pieeei«%
ter half the size of'au egg tho«=
into the floor aud mix it inf
dough with sweet milk, ab
cupful. Divide the dough
equal parts ; take ouq
a floured board and
handling as little as ]
into a medium-sized j
brush the surface xi
melted butter; thei
ol thi No
| auce ot Uie uough :
| tirst piece. Bake
until done, tbea div
which will separate,
where it was butte
lower half uud spree
erous laver of the
But ou the balance a
dowu; butter and'a
pie sauce and served
cream.