THE
IN ESSENTIALS, UNITY; IN NON-ESSENTIALS, LIBERTY; ALL THINGS, CHARITY.
SUFFOLK, YA., FRIDAY OCTOBER 8, 1880.
Volume XXXIII
Number AO.
tired mothers.
A little elbow leans upon your knee ;
Y’our tired knee that has so much to bear ;
A child’s dear es are looking lovingly
From underneath a thatch of shining hair.
Perhaps you do not heed the velvet touch
Uf warm, moist fiugeis holding vours so tight;
You do not prize this blessing over much,
You almost are too tired to pray to-night!
But it is blessedness. A year ago
1 did not see it as I do to-day ;
We are so dull and thankless and too slow
To catch the sunshine till it slips away.
And now it seems surpassing strange to me,
’lhat while I boie the badge of motherhood,
1 did not kiss more oft and tenderly,
The little child that brought me only good.
And if. some night when you sit down to rest,
You miss this elbow from your tired knee;
This restless, curly head from of your breast,
This lisping tongue that chatters constantly —
If from your own the dimpled hand had Blipped
And could not nestle in your palm again ;
If the white feet into the grave had tripped,
i could not blame you for your heartache then.
I wonder so that mothers ever fret
At little children clinging to their gown ;
Or that the footprints, when the days are wet
Are ever black enough U» make them frown.
If I could find a little muddy boot,
Or c»p or jacket on my chamber floor,
If I could kiss a rosy, restless foot,
ADd hear its palter io my borne once more—
• If I could mend a broken cart to-day,
To-morrow make a kite to reach the sky,
TherG is no woman in God's world could say
She was more blissfully content than I.
But Oh ! the little pillow next my own
Is never rumpled by a shining head ;
My singing birdling from its nest has flown,
The little boy I used to kiss—is dead I
—May hiley Smith.
PITCHING TOWARD SODOM.
When Lot separated from Abra
ham he pitched his tent “toward*
Sodom.” He did not go to Sodom,
and it is not certain that he intended
to; but while he left Abraham be
bftid upon the breezy bills, be pitch
ed his tent ‘ towards Sodom,”aud the
next thing we find of him he is in
Sodom. To be sure the men of Sod
orn were sinners exceedingly, and his
rightesus soul was vexed from day to
day with their unlawful deeds; but yet
he hud “pitched his tent towards Sod
oid,” and dually we see him inside oi
the city. There may have been ebau
ces for money-making in Sodom.—
Possibly he had iuvested in coruei
lots, and thought by speculation to
acquire wealth. His wife had got
tired of moviug around as Abraham
did, and wondered perhaps how
Aunt Surah could bear it. For her
part she wanted to settle down and
take some comfort. So Lot perhaps
UullL mm U I1UUKU, »U J UJUUO wuau
called a permanent settlement. But
it was in Sodom. Sodom was all
around him. Not only was his house
in Sodom, but Sodom vras in hie
house. “The men oi'Sodoui were sin
ners exceedingly ; and the women 01
Sodom were no better; and ere long
Lot found his whole family hopeless
ly contaminated and defiled by the
prevailing ungodliness.
Lot did not stay loug in Sodom,but ■
yet he stayed too long. He got oui
of it in a hurry ; but he did not get
out soon euough. He leit all of bis
wealth there; he left some of his
children theie; his wife, looking
back, perchance th the flue house
where she had hoped to spend her
declining years, was smitteu with the
curse of God, and left a mouumeut ol
his wrath. And when Lot1* old, im
poverished and lonely, found his
shelter in a mountain-cave, he found
that the curse of Sodom followed him
even there, and the abominations
which vexed his soul amoug the
Cities of the Plain, still clung to him
and covered him with unspeakable
disgrace, aDd made him the father ol
two accursed natious, which were
excluded from the congregation of
the Lord, through all generations.—
Gen. xix; Deut. xxti. 3 6.
There are many men to-day who
are pitching their tents toward Sod
om, they have not settled there, nor
would they on any account think of
making Sodom their home, but they
pitch their tents that way, and the
end is not difficult to divine. To
wards Sodom at first, in Sodom af
terwards, then cursed with Sodom’s
curse to the latest geueratious ; this
is the result of pitching the tent to
wards Sodom.
When will men learn to beware of
dallying with siul How much bet
ter to be a pilgrim with Abraham,
alone upon the distant hills, than to
have Sodom’s pride and tulluess of
hiead and abundance of idleuess, and
Sodom’s shame and overthrow at
last.
CARING FOR THE LAMBS.
When Jonathan Sturgis, the. emi
nent merchant, was but eleven years
ohl, he kept his grand father’s sheep.
Complaining one day that the boy
wild was sent to help him lay nnder
the tree and read, leaving him to do
all the work, his grandfather kindly
replied, “Never mind, Jonathan, my
boy, you watch the sheep and you
will have the sheep.”
He who takes care of property us
ually has property; lie who takes
care of clothes, always has clothes;
and ho who takes care of money is
not likely to be destitute of it Ana
frequently that which seems least
worthy of our care is the most im
portant thing of all. The care of the
pence'is more important than the
care of the ponuds. The “stitch iu
time” is the great thing which settles
the question as to whether we are to
be clothed or ragged.
The most important thing in the
family life is the baby. The grand
parents will soon be gone ; lather and
mother have about reached their
highest point of growth, and must
soon go down. The young people
have grown up, and it is almost im
possible uow to teach them what
they should have been taught years
ago, to save their lives from disaster
and wreck ; but the baby,—he has ail
oi life before him. Itightly trained
he may out live them all and out-do
them all, and be a power lor good iu
the world, lie should have the fami
ly’schielest cate; and a family which
eliminates the baby from its circle,
puts away the chief reason for its ex
isteuce, and may count itself a failure.
No wonder that such families die out.
What have they to live for! They
ueglect the little ones, and so can on
ly expect deterioration and decay.
A keeper of sheep who should ueg
lect the lambs, and devote his time
and attention exclusively to the old
sheep, would in a few years have on
ly a Hock of toothless ewes aged with
ers who would give no promise of
growth or increase, but would be dy
ing off and thinning out every year.
A wiser mail would take special care
of the lambs, and so mako provision
for a vigorous growth and an increas
ing dock.
We have seen persons who pro
•eased to feed the dock of God, who
took little or uo interest in the ehil
dreu—little or no care of the lambs.
What has been the result! Not
withstanding all their zeal aud intel
ligence, their churches have dwindl
ed, their children have grown up in
sin or have been led away to other
associations, aud the docks bear all
the marks of deterioration aud decay.
They did not take care of the lambs,
aud they lost them ;—others cared for
them aud gained them.
The United Presbyterian sensibly
says;
“YVe have frequently presented the
complaints of the denominations that
their membership does not increase.
There are^ revivals, during which
large numbers are received and en
rolled, aud there are encouraging ac
counts of statistical prosperity in
many quarters, yet a tiual summing
up discloses'the unhappy fact that if
i here has not been loss, there has
been but little gain.
“Now, the natural growth of the
church population ought to yield a
a large yearly increase to the enroll
ment ; and if no gain is made by con
versions from the world, there should
be evidence of numerical strengthen
ing. The fact that this is not so,
shows that the Church’s children are
not true to their obligations. They
wander off from the early home and
Christian fold, losing themselves iu
the worldliness that solicits and ab
sorbs their devotion. Whatever can
be done to resist this tendency will
be well done.
“ I he hope of the Church is in its
own children. Mission schools are
good, and saving souls iroui death,
they may be expected to add some
thing to the force of the Church, but
the real dependence for stable andef
lective strength must be in theyoutb
born in the Church aud inheriting its
blessings. We are gla<l, therefore.to
see any appropriate effort made to
more fully gaiu the youthful heart,
aud secure its spiritual consecration.”
A teuder interest in the young,
shown in the days ot their awkward
uess aud Iguorauoe, will be amply re
paid. Such interest iu young persons,
manifested before they are old en
ough to enter worldly “society” aud
before they become entaugled in the
snares which Satan spreads for their
uuwary feet, would save many of
them from the dark experiences of
vice aud sin and sorrow, and anchor
them “within the veil,” before the
tides of folly aud fashion sweep them
from all their mboriuga, and wreck
them on dangerous coasts.
THE SOUR MAN.
There are Borne people who will not
consent to bo made happy. They
find their greatest satisfaction in in
cessant grumbling uud repining
against destiny. Of all the bores that
are inflicted upon our social life,none
is more disagreeable than, the soiir
tempered imiu ; he is not content with
being miserable himself, but insists
on malting everybody else so, if be
can. It is not best to let such an one
have his own way. If he would be
content to confine his mutteriugs and
mnruiurings to himself, and to main
tain a strict seclusion, he might be
pardoned and pitied; but when he
thrusts his grievances upon society,
he then becomes, as Dogberry elo
queutly observes, “most intolerable,
and not to be,endured.n
The sour man is always sour; the
milk of human kindness in his heart
is curdled ; there is no sweetoess in
the acid principle of bis composition;
nature has giveu him a quantum suf
fioit of lemon juice, but has forgotten
be saccbariue ingredients : he is sour
from the rising of the sun to the go
ing don not the same, in sunshine
and moonshine, twilight and gaslight.
When he wakes in tne morning he
grumbles because it is time to get up;
his cofi'ee is always too hot or too
cold ; his toast and bis steak either
orerdone or uuderdone ; he finds no
thing satisfactory in the morning
papers. Wbeu he goes out he iuva
riably grumbles at the weather; if it
is a little cool he calls it arctic weather;
if mild, he compares it to the tropics;
should it drizzle, he declares it rains
pitchfroks; and a gentle breeze is a
hurricane.
A man’s life divested of the social
virtues must uecessarily be one ot
wretchedness, for they constitute as
truly and essentially an iuiegral part
of his own happiness as they conler
happiness on those around him :
In ourselves the sunshine dwells,
From ourselves the music swells;
By ourselves our life is fed
With sweet or hitter daily bread.
— Christian Advocate.
THE WOMEN AT THE SEPULCHER.
On that ominous Saturday the gates
of heaven seemed closed. The hopes
of the disciples seemed quenched by
the dark adumhrution that shadow
ed every thing. Christ’s body was in
the grave; his spirit gone to a world
nntraversed and unseen. If ever
there was au hour when man might
despair, this was the hour. Now, to
contrast with all this our position aud
privilege, is to emphasize our obliga
tion to bring a deeper, more persua
sive, aud inspiring love, a more loyal
attachment, aud a victorious joy. He
who was dead is alive again, alive for
evermore. On Ins head are many
crowns. He will guide us even to
the gates ol'the celestial city. The
Marys brought sweet sjjices. We
bring praise and the joy of triumph,
an adoring desire to do his work—
such as they could not bring.
A consecration like this makes life
truly sacramental. They did what
they could in bringing the spices and
ointment. Out of their small eu
deavor came illustrious revelations
which changed all things. Out ef
our small endeavor may come an en
ergy which will irradiate and crys
allize all service, so that life shall
take a glory to itself which we re
ceive from above.— Dr. K. S. Storrs
in “ Homiletic Monthly.”
THE TRUE WIFE.
Oftentimes I have seen a tall ship
glide by against the tide, as if drawn
by an invisible tow line with a bun
! di ed strong arms pulling it. Her sails
unfurled, her streamers drooping, she
had neither side-wheel nor stern
wheel; still she moved on, stately, in
serene triumph, as with her own life.
But I knew that on the other side of
the ship, hidden beneath the great
bulk that swam so majestically, there
was a little toilsome steam tug, with
a heart of fire and arms of iron, that
was tugging it bravely on; and I
kuew that if the little steam tug un
wiued her arms and left the ship, it
would wallow and roll away, and
drift hither and thither, and go off
with the effluent tide no man knows
where ; aud so I have known more
than oue genius high-decked, lull
freighted, wide sailed, gay-penuoned,
but for the bare toiling arm aud
bravo warm heart of the laithful lit
tle wile that nestled close to him so
that no wind or wave could part them,
he would have gone down with the
stream aud been heard of no more.—
O. IF. Holmes.
Hear as little as possible of that
which is to the prejudice of other
people.
WAR AND_WHISKEY.
, We havfe often expressed onr con
viction that if we could have stopped
the grog or whiskey drinking politi
cians, North and South, 'for six
months, the war that deluged our
land with Mood would never have
occurred. We reasoned from analogy,
ltum is producing fights every day in
the year, and when a man is half
drunk ho has neither sense nor pru
donee, but is ready for a fight, no
matter if the odds are against him.
Curiously we have just met with
a fact which confirms our opinion
formed years ago. The Newark Ad
rertiser relates the following:
“In his address before the, Woman’s
Christian Temperance Union, Kev.
Mr. Crouway related an iueident
which attracted great attention, and
made a marked impression. Iu 1*65
be took several thousaud prisoners
from Montgomery to Mobile, Ala
ttama, among whom was Admiral
Raphael Semrnes, who commanded
the celebrated privateer, Alabama.
This distinguished officer related a
little of the secret history touching
the origin id' the rebellion.
“After the electiou of Lincoln,
twelve of the leading men of the
South, representing six States, as
sembled in the St Charles hotel. New
Orleans, and spent a whole evening
in discussing the question as to what
the South ought to do under the cir
cumstauces. For an hour and a half,
eleven of these statesmen were averse
to war ; one only being in favor of it;
then, however, whiskey was sent lor,
and all partook of it quite freely, be
coming, before the expiration of the
third hour, quite inebriated. While
these distinguished southerners re
mained sober, they were averse to
war; but when they became intoxi
cated they were unanimously iu favor
of war; and it was the opiuion of the
admiral that if liquor had been let
alone that night, the terrible w&r,
which cost the North and the South
so many thousands of millions of dol
lars, and so many precious lives, and
evil influences which we have still
with us, would never have occurred.”
Dram shops demagogues and pot
house politicians North and South
were ever ready for war; and drunk
en generals and tipsy surgeons took
very poor care of precious lives con
fided to their charge. The whiskey
bottle is responsible for an amount of
mischief and misery which only the
Omniscient One can estimate.—
The Christian.
THE BROOK AND DAM.
Ou a summer afternoon, I took a
walk over the mountains.
Everything was beautiful, the sun
shone brightly, nature was decked in
green, aud everything charmed the
eye.
As I sauntered along, I came to a
brook, across which some children
had built a dam, turning the water
from its accustomed course, Ieaviug
the old course dry and barren. 1 took
my cane,. and commenced picking
away at the dam, aud very soon the
water gushed forth, aud followed ou
in the old accustomed course, moist
eniug, refreshing, aud giving uew
life to everythiug arouud.
As I sat upou the bank and looked
at it, I could not help saying to my
self: ‘-How much this is like our
every-day experience.”
God’s mercies aud blessings flow
and are flowiug from rhe spring of
eternal love; and we, by putting the
world between us aud God, turn
these Ldessiugs away.
They are flowii^ just as freely as
ever ; but we have made a dam that,
turns them away. But as soon as we
attempt or show the least disposition
to remove the obstruction, God, by
his power, is removing unseen, more
than ever we could do, aud soon the
Water or the blessings flow on. We
are refreshed, a uew life is started in
us ; and it is not confined to us alone,
but benefits all arouud us.
That we are cold or careless is not
the reason ; we have been putting the
world between ns and Christ, who
only is the source of all our peace, joy
bappiuess aud life.
Caunot we all learn a lesson from
the brook I
Men will cheerfully give op their
property to save the life ol the body,
and yet, for the sake of property, they
will sacrifice the life of their souls.
The hardest thing for a man to do
is to own that he has made a mistake
in his judgment. It is an impeach
ment of his weak side—his mind.
The most ignorant have sufficient
knowledge to detect the faults of
others; the most clear-sighted are
bliud to their own.
Subscribe for the 8ON.
4
THE RUIN OF TIME.
Time is a part of duration, ft
waits for no man ; but ever continues
to move onward in its firm and un
alterable course.
When we pause to reflect, it sad
dens our hearts to know that onr
time is bat short at best, flow im
portant then that we improve it. In
our jonrney through tile, clouds maj
overshadow' our pathway ; but tie not
cast down, lor “beyond jhe clouds
tbe sun is still shining.” U'e must not
ex|>ectour lives to pass smoothly on,
without anything to distuib them ;
but we should look on the bright
side; so that when time shall fail us
here, we may not look back and
mourn over unimproved and mined
time. The most fatal and ruinous
loss of time is that exhibited by those
who delay a preparation for death.
“Time, like death, is an impartial
conqueror.” Everything that now
exists, whether great or small, must,
sooner or later, fall beneath thescytlie
of this grim old monster.
Most of tbe sublime and beautiful
objects that now surround us, wil 1,
ere another century has passed, have
crumbled into dust. Let us look bark
upon some ot the wrecks of the old
world ; such asthepy rauiids ol Egypt
and the colossal statues oL Home ;
we will see how time has imf/vfnted
its footsteps npon them, and brought
such objects to utter ruin.
When we look upon the face o( a
beautiful and innocent child, its
bright eyes sparkling, its rosy cheeks
so bealtblul, its little heart so buoy
ant with hope; we sigh to think that
before; ball' its^ hopes are real'zed,time
will have left traces of care and sor
row on that brow , and will have
changed that youth to old ago—
Every thing so beautiliil will eventu
ally be hewn down by the hand of the
“Buin of Time.”
With these thoughts I will close,
hoping that, wheuour career on caitli
shall have ended, and death which is
the lot of all, shall have overtaken
us; we can console onrsetves with
the thonght.tliat we have improved
onrtimeto the best of our ability.—
L. B. B. in Institute Jewel.
HUSBAND AND WIFE.
Where husband aud wife really
love each other they get along well
through all the vicissitudes of life,
because one iiumeasmable source oI
liappiuess always remains to them,
whatever disasters betide—aud that
is their uufailing sympathy for each
other. Nothing less than this en
ables a couple to endure with equa
nimity all the cares, aud anxieties,
aud disappointments of married life.
Nothing is more common than to see
two young persous marry with the ap
proval of tho families aud all the
Irtendson each side. “What a for
tunate match for both of them!”
every one exclaims. To outside ap
pearance such it is. A little time
elapses—it may be a few years, it may
be only one—when to the surprise of
their acquaintances, it is announced
that the marriage has turned out un
happily. The explanation is simple
—there was no love betweeu them.
There was a degree of friendship,
aud there was a muturl expectation
of advantages from the cou
ne^fbn—but love there was none.—
#or the ordinary transactions of lite
respect aud friendship are all that
are required. It is not in marriage.
Nothing there will supply the place
of love. The belief that there are
substitutes for it is the rCck on which
many a young couple/have trusted
their happiness,only tHitiud it a total
wreck.
The more quiet and peaceably we
get on. the better—the better for
ourselves, the better for our neigh
bors. In nine cases out of ten, the
wisest course is—if a man cheats you,
to cease dealing with him; if he is
abusive, quit his company: if he
slanders you. take care to live so that
nobody will believe him.
Everyone ought to be busy, but no
one ought to be so busy, that he can
not do his work well. An overworked
inau is like a certain plough of which
we have heard, which turned up a
great deal more than it could turn
over.
A man who has a fixed purpose, to
which he devotes his powers, is in
vulnerable. Like the rock in the sea
it splits the troubles of life, and they
eddy round him in idle foam.
The weather may be dark aud
rainy ; very well—laugh betweeu the I
drops, and think cheerily of the blue
sky ai.d sunshine that will surely
Come to-morrow.
Seeming difficulties generally van
ish before faith, prayer, aud perse-]
verauce.
THE AUTUMN FALLOW.
There, are still .some farmers who
persist in leading their next year'
cultivable hind unfailuwcd until
spring. A ^greater mistake was never
made ill farming. Many have proved
this experimentally to their satisfac
tion, and with them nothing is allow
ed to prevent.the fall and early win
ter fallow, but there are others who
pretend they cannot see any advan
tage in plowing twice before planting
ouee, and for these this article is in
tended.
The advantages resulting from.an
tutun fallow ,ue several. In the first
place, whatever grass or weeds may
be upon the hunt now has time to
thoroughly decompose before spring,
and this alone, besides the plant food
thus added to the soil, is of great val
ue in loosening up the ground and
rendering it finer and easier to till all
through the next stimirier. But il
the plowing is delayed till spring this
vegetation does not have lime to rot,
very little p ant iood in a shape to be
appropriated by that year’s crop is
added to the soil, and the weeds and
other coarse litter aie i'i the way and
impede cultivation. In tlie second
place, lauds ol a ciajey. texture are
greatly beneiitted by exposure to the
whiter freezes, much of the coarse in
ert material is broken down by the
powerful Huger of the frost, and re
duced tu au impalpable powder easy
for the roots of growing crops to as
similatef. By this means bothchem
ieai and mechanical changes in tin
character of t lie soil are effected, by
the aid of w hich the aetion of com
mercial or other fertilizers is render
ed more effective and remunerative.
If the land is hot plowed before
spring the frost has no opportunity
to work upon the soil, for it is very
rare that freezing of the soil takes
place in fields covered with dead
grass and weeds. It is only exposed
soils that can freeze during winter,
and inverting the turf with theinval
cable turn plow is the best method at
present known of exposing it to the
actioii of cold.
lhiidly, corn and other land, fal
lowed now, and re fail owed in spring,
works better the season through,
i crops grow off more readily and the
time and labor of cultivation is short
ened, the land is rendered more pro
ductive, and the crop, whatever it
may be, is less affected by changes
in the bydrometric state of the at
mosphere. All these facts have been
abundantly substantiated by experi
meut, and are now well established
agricultural truths. And we may
add as another advantage of some
importance, especially marked in
some cases, that autumn fallow is de
structive to large numbers of harmful
iusects ill some of their forms as eggs,
larvae, and pupa?, in this particular
alone uo doubt often paying for tfie
whole cost of the plowing in the ex
ewptiou of the future crop from these
baneful agents.
Here, then, 'briefly are some of the
chief reasons for farrow ing your cul
tivabie land in autumn—reasons, the
effect of any one of which wou!d»com
peusate for the cost of the job, and
some of which would pay the cost
many times over, it is not our pur
pose uow to smtoit the doubters with
ao over long article. We did in the
outset intend to draw a picture of a
field left alone to the spring farrow
— it is a really attractive theme, or
at-least a prolific one to write about
— but remembering that those we
now address know how it is them
selves,” we w ill leave them to reflect
upon rlie reasons above advanced,
which we hope they wilido usthehou
or to read at least once, and then, it
they are still doubtlul,we will draw a
compromise and get them to try a
few acres in the middle of some field,
leaving the rest to be treated in their
usual way. If they will make the ex
perinrent honestly we will be satisfi
ed at the result, whether they con
elude pro or contra as to the value ot
autumn farrow.— Rural Messenger.
Charcoar, laid fiat while cold on a
burn, causes the pain to abate iibme
iliatly j by leaving it on for an hour
the burn seems almost healed when
the buru is superficial.
The farmer vyho is above his busi
ness, and entrusts it to ot iters to man
age, in due season has no business to
attend to.
No farmer who buys corn, pork?
fodder, bay, and oats, as a rule, for
teu years, cau keep the sheriff away
from his door iu the end.
TOiube
C
HOW TO COOK OYSTERS.
! in yd Oysters.—Select the lalrg
(e-;f,ilij«in beaten egg and then in
1 flicker Crumbs; fry in equal parts of
buttct* and lard. Corn meal can be
: H-ed instead of cracker.
i) u.oped Oysters.—Butter a
b'Cj, dish, put in the bottom a layer
d crackers roiled line, upon this a lay
r nl oysters ; season and add bits of
oiiflcr; oil ornate the layers until the
I '^s'1 is's lull, last a layer of crackers;
;usr before putting in tho oven pour
niik b an egg beaten in it. 15ake
- half ,ui boar.
Oyster Stew.— Bring three pints
i of water to boiling, season and add
II he juice .from one quart- of oysters;
!*vlien it boils, drop in the meats and
i'.v-i crackers rolled line, and let it
| boil up once ; remove from the lire
; i once and turn into a soup dish in
! which it a.- been previously placed a
piece of blitter t lie size of a small
| egg, and a half pint of^sweet cream.
Oyster Pie.—Make pastry and
bue a deep dish. Put a layer of oys
ters in [lie bottom, cut butter in thin
“•ices and lay on top. Hub some
bread crumbs tine nod season with
pepper and salt; cover oysters well
wuh these; so ca.tinne a layer of
oysters and one of crumbs uutil your
dish is full ;‘tbe la f layer should be
crumbs; cover with pastry, strain
juiee and put in just before covering.
< ’lams can be used the same way.
A BRiLEIANT and useful future is
predicted for the milkweed, which
has heretofore been considered culy
.1 enuiberer of the ground. Its seeds
yield a finer oil than tiuseed ; its gum
can be used iu place of Iudia rubber;
and from its lioss a fabric resembling
Irish poplin has beeu made ;\vhilethe
y oung shoots are used in the spring
by some people instead of asparagus,
[ which they resemble iu flavor. So it
is given out, but we do uot know on
what authority. If true all will re
joice. The only thing that the milk
[ weed has heretofore beeu good for,
was iu removing warts, for which
purpose we have never known it to
fail.
(.’orx loses one-fifth by drying and
"heat one-fourteenth. From this the
estimate is made that it is more prof
itable for farmers to sell nnshelled
ora in the fall at 75 cents than at
j 00 a bushel in the following sum
| mer, and the wheat at §1.25 in De
cember is equal to $1.50 in the suc
ceeding Jane. in the case of pota
ioes—taking those that rot and are
otherwise lost together with the
-hiinkage, there is but little doubt
•hat between October and June the
loss to the owner who holds them is
not less than thirty-three percent.
The first requisite of good andsuc
cessful farming, is to prepare the *
grouud well. Flow deep and pulver
ize thoroughly. To merely skim over
“flic ground with a sorry plow, and
depend on the seasons to do the rest
fur the crop, is unwise, the result of
ignorance or laziness—both a crime
in these enlightened days of civiliza
tion' Those who take good care te
prepare the grouud well for the re
ception of seeds, are the men who
hardly ever fail to make money farm
ing.
Save Your Sugar.—Every house
keeper should know that sugar boil
ed with an acid, if it be but for three
minutes, will be converted into glu
cose, which is the or in of sugar
found iu sweet apples. One pound of
sugar has as much sweetening power
as 2-jf pouuds of glucose. In other
Aords, 1 pound of sugar stirred into
the fruit after it is cooked, and while
vet warm, will make the fruit as f
sweet'as 2J pounds added while the f
fruit is boiling. Cpi
Meat Bread.— A beefsteak chop- • *
ped up tine and baked with Hour aud
yeast iu the form of a “meat-bread”
loaf is the latest dietlc sensation. It
is asserted that meat thus treated en
tirely disappears during the process
of purification, the nut rive principles
becoming incorporated with the
blend. M. Scheurer Cestner has just
been explaining the process.
Agriculture is the foundation
interest of the country—an interest
which is the source of supply
physical wauto of all classes,
nursery of euergy and virtse
equally essential recuperation
waste aud enervation
healthful pursuits.
INDIAN
the
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