THE CHRISTIAN SUN.
IN ESSENTIALS, UNITY
IN NON-ESSENTIALS, LIBERTY;
IN ALL THINGS, CHARITY.
Volume XXXIII.
SUFFOLK, VA., FRIDAY OCTOBER 22, 1880.
TXiimber 4-2.
|oe(rs.
not knowing.
I know »ot what shall befall me;
God hum » milt o’er my eyes;
And eo at each step In my onward path
Be makes new scenes to rise.
And every joy he sends me
Comes with a strange and sweet surprise.
I see not a step before me
As I tread on another year,
But the past is still in God’s keeping,
The future bis mercy shall clear,
And what looks dark in the distance
Hay brighten as I draw near.
For perhaps the dreuded future
Is less hitter than I think ;
The Lord may sweeten the waters
Before 1 stoop to drink,
Or if Marsh must be Marsh,
Be will stand beside the brink.
It may be He is keeping
For the coming of my feet
Some gift of such rare blessedness,
Some joy so strangely sweet,
That my lips will only tremble
With the thanks they cannot speak.
Oh. restful, blissful ignorance,
'Tis blessed not to know;
It keeps me so still in those arms
Which will not let me go,
And bushes my soul to rest
On the bosom that loves me so.
So I go on not knowing;
1 would not it I might;
I would rather walk in the dark with God
Than go alone in the light. .
1 would rather walk with Him by faith
Than go ulone by sight.
My heart shrinks back from trials
Which the future may dispose,
Yet I never had a sorrow
But what the dear Lord chose ;
So 1 send the coming tears back
With the whispered words, —He knows.
—Selected.
^eteciionsS.
-_t—
FOR PARENTS _AND TEACHERS.
Ambition, give it what speeiou
name .von will, is the sworn euem.v t>
all virtue, the Source of the mo i
dangerous ami detestable vices, eve
ry one being disposed to gratify it ii
his own way. It is forbidden by ua
ture and religion.
Virtue and ambition are absolute
ly incompatible. The glory of virtue
is to descend. Observe how Jesrn
Christ reprimands his d'sciples, when
they ask who should be first. aiuoiij.
them. He takes a little child ami
places him in the midst. Ah! when
he recommends the humility so suits
ble to our frail aud miserable con
dition, it is because he did uot con
sider that power, even supreme, was
capable of constituting out happiness
in this world. He did not confess tbt
superiority over the rest on that dis
ciple whom he loved the most; but
as a reward to the love of him who
had beeu faithful unto death. Hi
bequeathed to him with His dyiug
breath his mother as a legacy.
A preteuded emulatiou instilled in
to children renders them for life in
toleraut, vain glorious, tremblingly
alive to the slightest censure, oi U
the meanest token of applause. They
are traiued to ambition we are told,
in order to their /prospering iu tin
world ; but the wpidity natural t<
the human mind iflanore than sufiici
eut for the attaiuiAit of that object.
Those who are iliclRnble of rising by
their taleuta^HdeidsQif to iusiuuati
themselves into the jfejoil graces o
their masters by (fatten ,tyml to sup
plant their equals by calyimuy. 1.
these means succeed uot, they con
ceive an aversion for the objects oi
tbetr emulatiou, which to their com
rades has all the value of applause,
aud become to themselves a perpetu
al source ot depression, chastisement
and tears.”—St. Pierre.
“When vittue is banished ambitiou
invades the hearts of those who are
disposed to receive it, and avarice
possesses the commuuity.”—Montes
quieu.
L.
Did our young, readers ever think
how little it tabes to stain their
character t A drop of iuk dropped
into a tumbler of clear water black
ena the whole; and ho the first oath,
the first lie, the first glass—they
seem very trivial, but they leave a
dark Btaiu upon one’s character.—
Look out for the first stain.
“This little fellow,” said Martin
Luther, of a bird going to roost, has
chosen his shelter, and is quietly
rocking himseit to sleep without a
care for to morrow's lodging, calmly
boldiug with his little twig, and lea
viug God alone to think for him.”
Subscribe for the Bun.
CROSS CHRISTIANS.
“Wliat a fine thing it iato feel good
natured.” This waa said to me by a
brave, loving, overburdened young
wife and mother. The quivering lip
and moistened eye with which it waa
accompanied told a story of a strog
gle deapite the smile that shone
trhongh the mist. When 1 threw my
arm around her and said, ‘‘Yon dear
little woman, your poor: nerves are
juat worn out; you must rest,’’the
shower came, and as soon as it held
up, she said, “I’m afraid I’m cross all
the time.” Her only remedy was rest.
But it is a fine thing to feel good
natured. There is no denying the
fact that there is mnch to cross ns in
this wrangling world. Leaving out
the common causes of troublesome
children and incompetent servants,
the lesser autioyauces of life are
legion. The omissions and commis
sions, the derelictions and peccadilloes
of our dearest friends and constant
companions are a truitfnl source of
distress or discipline, according to
the use we make of them. We sub
init to a great sorrow, bnt do we con
sider from whose baud these petty
trials proceed f
Sometimes we begin the day with
sn unaccountable degree of irritubil
ity, and if we were frauk would say.
aa did the candid little three year
old, “I don’t waut to be good ; I’m
going to be bad to-day.” We feel
confessedly cross. We indy search
out the cause. Our diet, in quantity
and quality, uay have affected the
system just enough to put the bean
mt of tune. Then must the soul lit
doubly on guaul, for there will bt
teetl of watching and fighting quite
is much as praying.
“What becomes of all the amiable
. oung ladies!” asked a querulous
bachelor, “mothers and wives ure so
II tempered.”
Cross parents are in danger oi
arneriug an unsightly crop by atm
iy, when the reaping conies. Bettei
teat ter seeds of kindness.
“I uever suspected myself of bail
emper till I bail a halt-grown, head
trong boy to contend with,” is the
•ouiessiou of aiiotber parent. Th<*r<
it is, the cures and crosses of life
choke out our be'ter impulses, ami
>e are surly instead of suuiiy. Thus
ve fail to atioru the doctrine and to
recommend the religiou of the Oue al
ogether lovely.
Is grace at fault! No; it is al>
efficient even for this. We do not
orget the great natural differences
>f temperament and constitution.
“Grace grafted on a crab stalk” i>
lot often productive of lucious fruii
Yet we must, grow in grace and gra
:ijusness despite of difficulties, God
Helping us. We have no right to be
•rabbed. We must esteem it a sin
to exhibit crossness laying our weak
nesses of body aud mind, our causes
-outrollable and uncontrollable, at
he feet ot Him who is touched with
4 feeling of our iutirmities. Can we
not be kiud aud pleasant for Christ’s
sake! It is the genial, sweet-tem
pered Christian that is attractive and
influential. It is the wisdom of sunny
icartedness that wiuneth souls and
uriieth many to righteousness.—
American Messenger.
To < ffer effectual pray er, a man
must-realize his own absolute noth
ingness, except us God kelps him.
He must be ready to ackuowledge
lis own utter imperfect ness, and be
earnestly desirous of the divine mer
cy. The mau who has a disposition
10 cover up his sius—to make them
ess than they really are in number
■r enormity—must be rid of that dis
position, for the reason that God
iwelleth ouly with him that is of coii
i rite spirit. If we come before God
iu the spirit ot penitence for wtong
loiug, aud say, “Father, forgive me!”
or, desparing of our own strength,
cry, “Lord, save, or I perish 1” there
is no earthly pareut that is half so
eager to bless and strengthen us.—
But this is the feeling that must ani
mate our hearts when we come be
fore God—the feeling of humble de
pendence upou His mercy ; a willing
ness not ouly to acknowledge where
iu we have done wrong at any time,
but a purpose, by the grace of God,
to break off our sius by righteous
uess. Such a prayer as this is sure
to command God's blessing.—Eton’s
Herald.
Shout Boles fob Home Use.—
Put self last..
Wbeu others are suffering, drop
a word of sympathy.
Tell of your tfwu faults rather than
those of others.
A place lor every thing and ev
erything in its place.
Hide your own little troubles, but
watch to help others iu theirs.
Take bold of the kuoh and shot
every dour belaud you without slam
ming it.
A DIVE FOR LIVE.
“VAN BIBBKB’S BOCK” AND ITS
THRILLING STORY.
Jnat below Kanawha falls, in West
Virginia, is an overhanging rock of
immense size jutting out about one
hundred feet over a seething whirl
pool, and it was once the scene of a
remarkable adventure.
The Iudiaus were in hot pursuit of
Van Bibber,a set tier and amanofdis
iinotion in those early times. Be
was bard pressed, and all access to
the river below and above being cut
off. he was driven to this jnttiug rock,
which proved to be the jumping off
place for him. He stood on the rock,
iu full view of the enemy above and
below, who yelled like demons at the
certaiuty of bis speedy capture. He
stood up boldly and with his ritle
kept them at bay. As be stood there
he looked across the river, saw his
friends—his wife and her babe in her
arms—all helpless to render assist
ance. They stood as if petrified with
terror and amazenu-ut. She cried at
the top of her voice,
‘•Leap iuto the river and meet
uie 1”
Laying her babe on the grass, she
seized the oars and sprang iuto a skill
alone. As she neared the middle oi
the river, her husband saw the In
dians coming iu full force and yelling
like demons.
“Wile, wile!” he screamed, “I'm
coming ; drop a little lower.”
With this he sprang from his crag
and descended like an arrow into tin
water, feet foieiuost.
The wife rested ou her oars for a
moment to see him rise to the surface,
he little skill floated like a cork,bob
bing aboat on the boiling flood, li
was an awful moment; it seemed ai
age to her. Would be ever rise !—
Her earnest gaze seemed to penetrafi
i lie dept hs of the water, and she dart
ed her boat fnitber down tlje stream.
He rose uear her,'in a moment the
boat was alongside of him, and sh.
oelped him to scramble into it amid
• boner of arrows and shot that the
baffled Indians poured into them —
I’lie daring wife did not speak a word;
^ei husband was more dead than
dive. *aud all depended upon bei
'trengtn being maintained till they
could reach the bank. This they did
just where she had started, right
where the halm was still lying, crow
ing and laughing. The men pulled
the skiff high on the laud, and the
wife slow ly arose and helped to liti
Van Bibber to his feet. He could not
walk, hut she laid him down by bis
babe, and then seating herself, she
wept wildly, just as any other woman
would have dune uuder the cireum
stauces. That babe is now a grand
lather, and tbm rock is called ‘‘Van
Bibber’s Kook” to this day.—Ooldeu
Days.
THE FOUNTAIN OF LIFE AND LIGHT.
In one of mj early journeys in Af
rica, I came, with my companions, to
a heathen village ou the batiks of the
Orange river. We had travelled far,
nud were hungry, thirsty, and fa
tigued; but the people of the village
rather roughly directed us to halt at
a distance. We asked for water but
they would not supply it. I offered
the three or four remaining buttons
left on my jacket for a little milk,and
was refused. We had the prospect ol
auother hungry uight, at a distance
from water, though within sight of
ihe river. When the twilight drew
on, a woman approached trom the
height beyond which ihe village la.v.
She bore on her head a bundle ol
wood, and had a vessel of milk in hei
hand. The latter, wuhout opening
her lips, she handed lo us, laid down
the wood, and leturued to the vdiuge.
A second time she approached, with a
cooking vessel on her head, and a leg
of mutton iu one hand and water in
the other. Sbesatdovvu without say
tug a word, prepared the tire and put
on the meat. V\ e asked her again
and again w ho she was. IShe remain
ed silent, till'ad'eotiouately entreated
to give us a reason for such unlooked
for kinduess to strangers. Then the
tears stole down her sable cheeks,and
she replied : “1 love Him whose ser
vants you are, aud surely it is my du
ty to give you a cup of cold water in
his name. My heart is lull, therefore
I canuot speak the joy I feel to see
you in this out of-the world place.”
On learning a little of her histoiy,
aud that She was a solitary light
burning iu a dark place, I asked her
bow she kept up the light of God iu
her soul iu tne eutire absence of the
communion of saiuts. Sue drew from
her bosom a copy ot the Hutch Hew
Testament, which she had received
from Mr. Helm when in his sehool,
some years before.” “This,” said she,
‘is the louutaiu from w hence I drink;
this is the oil which makes my lamp
to burn.” I lookt d on the precious
relic, printed by the British aud For
eigu Bibe Society, and the reader
may conceive my joy while we mm
gled our prayers aud sympathies to
gether at the throue of our heavenly
Father.—idea. Dr. Moffatt.
THE READY HAND.
A Sunday school teacher was out
looking up an absent scholar. With
neatly clad feet she was picking her
way over the muddy crossing. Just
before her was a young girl carrying
a pail of water. A blast of wind
swept around the corner, and snatch
ing her. shawl from her shoulders,
held it fluttering behind her. She
set down her pail at the curbstone, to
wrap it again about her. The lady
behind her reached out her hand,and
laid itover her shoulder, saying kind
ly,‘“Wait a moment and 1 will fiud
you a pin.”
As the search went on, in a free,
pleasant way she said, "As I came
on behind you Just now, something
made me tbiuk of a woman who went
to draw water from a well nearly
two thousand years ago, and fouud
something very precious there.”
The piu was found, and the kid
covered hands were put out to gath
er together the edges of the faded
shawl. The pale face of the girl was
lifted in amazement to the lovely
countenance so near her own, but the
kind voice went oh: “I have a beau
tiful card at home with the picture
and the story upou it. Will you tell
uie where you live, and let me bring
it to you w hen I come this way next
week 1”
•‘Yes, truss,” said tue girl in a tunitl
voice, giving her name and number.
“Very well; 1 shall not forget you
but will certainly biiug it to you tin
next time 1 come.” Hie girl carrieo
the water into tbe bouse, with a Hus
upon her cheek aud a flutter of jo.\
u her heart. There was but Hub
in her hard life to make it bright oi
ideas, nt, but this thougbtlul act ami
kind word aud promise of tbe lad.i
seemed to create a little rill of joy
vhieh flowed through her heart am
nude tbe week, until the promise
was fulfilled, quite unlike the ordin
ir> weeks ol her life. Nor did tin
seek end it. tor her wonder at wba
the story might be proved a goon
preparation of tbe heart to receive it
Like the woman oi Samaria, she, to
longed to draw water from this wot:
derftil well, aud tbe lady, iu lessous
of kind and patient instruction, at
length led her to the “fountain open
ed for sin aud unclean ness.”
How rich was the harvest of hei
“little deed of kindness,” her “little
words of love!” Did she think whet
she scattered these tiny seeds that
she should reap pearls so soon? We
do not thiuk she eVcU thought or a
harvest; her heart was so full of lov
iiig-kiuduess that itconld hut express
itself thus. If the heart be full ol
love, the lips will he ready with lov
ing words, the hand with kind deeds
aud generous gifts, which are fitting,
ornaments of the Christian at w ork.
Bkotheb, Consider !—That b;
your absence from Divine Servic.
you influence others to be absent,am
you injure the sacred cause whicl
you are sworn to sustain.
That by your freedom of criticise
on church matters you discourager,
your rector and weaken the euergie.
of the church.
That because you cannot give t<
the church as much.as your ueighbo'
or because you a^e poor, it does uoi
follow that you are not to give at all.
for God judgeth a giver not so uiucl
according to the amount w hich lie 01
fers ns the spirit in which the offti
ing is made.
That in the matter of religious du
ty you are uot to think so much ut
what you have doue.but ot what you
leave undone, lu this way only cun
you preserve an humble spirit auo
grow iu grace.
That no gain is made by broodiuj
over past troubles and failings. Tin
only course is to rise above them aui
make another effort.
That wherever you are the churcl
is your home, and though oftitue.
ainoug strangers, yet iu God’s housi
you caunot he a stranger.
That if we wish for strength to d«
and patieuce to endure, they cai
come ouly by asking of God yom
Father, through Christ who is you
Elder Brother.
It is narrated by the great sculp
tor, Michael Angelo that, when ai
work, be wore over bis forehead
fastened on his artist’s cap, a lighted
candle, in order that no shadow from
himself might fall upon his work! It
was a beautiful custom, and spoke a
more eloquent lesson thau he knew !
For the shadows that fall on out
w ork—how often they fall from our
selves 1
Good examples proceed as natural
ly from good thoughts as roses fron
their bushes; and bad actions pro
ce<-d as naturally from bad thought.'
as weeds (Tom the impure places ot
the earth.
I DON’T CARE.
Some years ago there was a bright,
talented boy, coming late ont of
school. He had been kept in by his
teacher for bad conduct. As he step
ped into the street, a friend of his—
a noble man, and one who always de
lighted in helping boys —said lo him:
‘‘I am very sorry to see you coming
ont of school so late/’ The boy re
plied in a careless, nugentlemaiily
way, “1 don’t care.”
Now, remember that I was inti
mately acquainted with this lad. 1
knew his father and mother. 1 hey
were excellent people, and denied
themselves many things that the'
might give their son the advantages
of a good education. This boy was
taleuted—no one in school more so
He could stand at the head of his
classes whenever he tried to, but he
didn’t care.
This spirit of “I don’t care” grew
upou him, and at last his father took
uim ont of school and put him into a
store. But he failed there, for he
didu’t care whether he pleased his
employer’s customers or not. After
remaining in the store a short time,
he was dismissed. He didu’t care,
but father and mother and sister car
ed, for they shed many tears on ac
eonnt of his failure.
Some years ufrer this I saw him
driving a dnt cart, iu tro .vsers aim
shirt, and bareioot; but he didu’,
care.
For several years I did uot hem
tuy thing trout tii o. One day, I as
'-ertaiued that lie liad shipped as ;
Miiiniim sailor for a foreign pert ; bm
on shipboard, as everywhere else. In
lidu’t care, and when the ship reach
•d her harbor, the captain kicked
nui ofl' the ship. After wandering
about a lew mouths on a foreign,
shore he died of fever, and lies bur
ed thousands ot miles from his home.
Upon his tombstone,truthfully might
■e inscribed these words:
••Here lies a once noble talented
toy, who eatne to an untimely grave,
"because he didn't care !” — Youth'.'
Visitor.
CHILDHOOD SHOULD BE REVERENCED
I plead for a loving re'erence I'm
“hildhood. If the L-rd uses t lie weal,
-ide of man, aud if lie is engaged to
wiu his ultimate victory" oier the
lev il by feeble man at his feeblest,
heu God blessed the children I It
seems to me that iu the Lord’s bat
le there is always a babe in ihe fore
rout. The armies of" ohleu times
placed a hugli champion in their van,
ike Goliath of Gath ; bur it is not so
u God’s army ; there a baby leads
lie way. Pharaoh oppresses Israel,
md crushes the people dowu till
heir cry goes up because Of then
ore bondage; God is going to de
over them. How does the work be
gin J Here is the opening of the
ampaign: "‘And the daughter of
Pharaoh went dowu to the river to
wash herself,’’ aud there she* spied a
ittle ark made ol bulrushes, which
-he sent her maid to fetch, aud there
vas a Hebrew child withiu it. ‘‘Aud
>ehold ! the babe wept.” Ihus was
he champion of Israel introduced
ipou the scene; the goodly child
> horn his parents iu laith had hid
len was he by whom God would
weak iiabab iu pieces. The stilt
oltier story of the battle of the Lamb
•pens iu like rnauuer: ‘-(Juto us a
•bild is boru, uuto us a sou is giveu.”
•She brought forth her first Horn
sou, and wrapped him iu swaddling,
mottles, and laid him iu a manger.”
fhat was Iae signal for the heat ot
lie conflict ; that babe led the way.
the holy child Jesus is at the head
>1 all our marches. One may weil
iouor infancy aud childhood siuce
his is the case.—Examiner and Cliron
cle.
Tain'll.—“As 1 was ruling in the
•ars, uot long since,” sanl the pastor
his morning, “I overheard a couver
ation hetweeu t«o men. One was
xplaiiiing to tue other how he hail
-eitleil some difficulty, and remarked,
I had to lie a little, bat 1 tixed up a
lice job.’ Ah! did uot that uniu
uiow that in thus welding liuks of
-and he litoke links of gold! Didn’t
leknow that, in meudiugoue wretch
•d rag of u garmeut, he had stripped
uimself naked of the goodly raiment
if truth ! Did he uot know that, iu
dxing up that ‘uice job’ with an uu
iruth, he was plautiug barbed ar
rows iu his heart that would produce
moral death t” Far better that the
difficulty bad remained unsettled
ilnui that a lie should have .beeu
told.—Ex.
A promise is a just debt, which
-hould always be paid for honor am
louesty aie its double security.
Subscribe for the Sufi) AM****'’ '
SMI4H, '
»k OettouAItlis. |
Jarm and JiresiHe.
j j
PLASTER.
A free use of plaster on the farm
would he worth many dollars above
the cost of the articles in the course
of the year. Not only on clover,
wheat, and other crops in spring, but
on many garden crops and corn. &c.,
in dry or wet summers it world be
found profitable. But above all as a
deoderzer about the stables and cat
tie sheds, and on decaying organic
manures and compost heaps to pre
vent the escape of amtmmla, &c.,
would it pay the farmer to use it ,
freely. While it is an article cheap
in itself, it requires but a small quan
tity for deorderizatjou or fertilization,
a very few bushels being enough to
apply on a whole acre of any crop ;
and a very light sprinkling of it in
the stables, &e , will lay the odor and
render the rooms s«eet.
Its power ol arresting and Using
escaping ammonia, gives tliis article
its chiefest agricultural value, and its
affinity lor that gas is so great that
it attracts to it the ammonia not only j
of the earl h and of manures, but of
the air also. As a top dressing f'ot
young and growing ciops, as well a
ot newly plowed soils, it is therefore
invaluable, and it also furnishes to!
the soil some lime and a ljrtle sul
phurieacid— both important element
,u the production of crops. , In view
■if all these qualifies, we find lain!
plaster to he one ot the must esseu
ial and valuable fertilizers the farm
-r can employ. Its, use is far to !
red,-.and we would urge every farmer-'
who wishes to improve his land : ipid
ly, and make good crops at little cost,
to keep a supply of plaster a 1 v. ays on
hand In spring on wheat, oafs, rye,
nit ley, clover, any ot' the grasses
potatoes, and m short,oil almost any
•rop, he will find it imparting a bean
■ 1 t'u 1 green color and proniotin,. rapid
growth ; and for preventing the loss
if the most valuable elements of or
ganic manures' while undergoing de
•cmposition, t here is no ot her article
it nil equal to it for practit i pm
• loses. Fiery barnyard, st .bie, eon
lied, hen house, privy, and compost
neap should have a sprinkle of i>
om e every week, or as olieu as the
odor becomes apparent to the smell
t he use of it for this purpose would
cost but a tritie during the y ear, and
would pay for itself many times in tin
richer character of the manures
saved. If you have never used ii
make a test of it aud prove its value
— Hum l Messenger. ^
HINTS FOR 8CT0BER.
Live Stock.—A little extra feed
brings cattle and horses to the be
ginning of winter in good order. The
tops ol carrots, beets and turnips tna.v
be fed to good advantage, and there
is a great deal of sweetness in the
October pasturage. Where much
corn is planted, there will always be
soft ears and ••nubbins” w hich are
best led to horses and pigs.
Swine.—Pigs will fatten nearly as
fast on potatoes' this month as on
corn next. They do best on cooked
feed, and the grain ought to be
ground.
Sheep.—This month we speak for
March lambs. Half-fed sheep are of
ten rtiu into market from sections
i where food is scarce, and it pays web
I 10 secure such to feed tor the winter,
turning them oft' fat in the spring/
The feeder should be satisfied it by so
doing, he works up his w heat straw
aud torn into manure, getting pat
tor his gram aud cash outlay, a in.
that duly. .41
COF.N COBS,
Thf* cobs oi' Indian corn contain'a
large amount of potash, its ashes con
tain twice the amount ot that mineral
than the ashes of the willow, which
coutaius more than any other wood,
Potash is one of the minerals for
which the farmer pay s in one shape
or another large sums of money, and
this frequently when there can be
seen lying around his premises i:*h
economized quantities of this v*'
hie material. When the potas^,
IVil ground with the com this
amount of potash will be fi ■■'** ’
' manure, as the auirnal tin SXUFF
! not equal the amount-W j-GS,
! the vegetable kma*
.CT 11 iVL’D rpo i.
might not lie be J SERIES,
A. S. PLF.Y.
BEDDING FDR STOCK.
It is economy ti give the horse,
cow and other stoek housed through
the w inter, a good bed. It has much
to do towards saving feed and keep
ing stock in a thriving condition, to
say nothing of the obligation man is
under to provide wed for the dumb
animals for him given to have “dom
inion over/’ Better to give stock
comfortable beds through the nsual
season of necessary shelter and sta
bling, as they can 'r l v,, ided with
very little difficulty orexpcuse. There
is usually refuse fodder, straw or oth
er matter, which can be utilized and
made into manor, by this process. A
large amount of the excrements, by
this practice, which would otherwise
be lost, can be saved. Fine sand
makes a good bca ..ing material, and
a good dressing for any heavy soil.
Sawdust is another article that can
be used advantageously for the same
purpose. There is no farmer who
cannot provide plenty of litter of
some kind for his slock, and this by
all means lie should do, and will do,
if he understands bis business and
consults bis own interests.
THE WAY TO IMPROVE STOCK.
The cheapest, best aud only way
fur small farmers of limited means to
improve their stock to advantage, is
to purchase a pure bred male. Wheth
er it-be hogs, sheep or cattle, a thor
oughbred male she .hi pay for him
self in a very shot, time. A good
Jersey or short hoi a bull, herd reg
istered. and well adapted to the wants
<>f the ordinary fa' or—good for all
practical purposes, can bo purchased
at from §100 to 8150. It no
longer pays, e _ under very
unusual circumstances, to raise com
mon stock of either hogs, sheep or
cattle. A good milk or butter cow
ihvavs demands a good price, and a
sorry one is hard to dispose of to ad
vantage, and very seldom pays to
keep. This the farmers all over the
Smith are beginning to understand,
and hence the improvements going
miu the native herds throughout
tua country. Never use a grade bull
aii-’er any circumstances, when the
-emcee of a thoroughbred can be
procured at a moderate price.—Dixie
I Funner.
£
TURKEY FATTENING.
There is a great difference of opin
I uiu iu regard to . attening turkeys, .
| imt experience has shown breeders
that the best way to get the greatest
j number of pound" __ is to feed
I the bird.4 all they cau eat, right from
| ihe time they hatch out until they
j are ready for market. While th6y
ire running at large is the time to
[develop them. They undoubtedly
\ get uineh food iu the fields, the shat
i ered grain, ttie “hoppers,” worms,
! etc., but then the' must be supple
mented by daily or twice daily feeds'
j not bearcoutinemeut,especially wm ’
I m small docks or singly, and sb . turned
i never b ■ confined lunger than a w. . IT
i ^ . -vA-LL.
or ten days oetore killing. Au
! nary rail pen is one of the be.®*TVABE,
j r lie purpose, for they like to^
j the ground. At tu's time r
cipally ou cooked or ^o‘f ’ before buy«
| plenty of milk if you
I giving occasions!1* JCS. P. WBBR
to keep <Jhe “—
of grain at the bain. Turkeys
p..HAT s g 1 R T OF MIJfEi
!•■[> fever since Adam
^ {breed to go in
rl to the clothing busi
- j utss it has been the
’im of man to have
4s'1 good-fitting shirt
1 ■ °vv otteo have we
heard men complain
o f uncomfortable,
oud-fittiug shirts :
v*d many is the
u 0 we have ap
£WCUlt£<i men on
esieeiueu, so b>td
»ms stuck
rPjjp. ,-.h in their
that you
purird have to go
.ad them and
* over their
til Shier to titlk to
It has been
wonder for a lontr
w kuee. It ig true the™h . °"' lke“ “ h«<l
: •■« »■*• *■■ *»* coh,Tn
,cu w*ar over-st“nd- **»
''wn49\rf;ir iov“ wvo'vr s/ul
• 0'ir.-f you Jo;, tome at f oci n5,rt,^*n<l3 (>»i of
••' =1«« *hini
"“«-'veil, you hud betier irire tJ» -V°
■ . i 1-fthf.u buy their owa rYtrSint m0n“-r
^ w, old uipq, young
wanrto have comf'*rt
in! to .save money ami n
'UK ' r.v I'KN I' SHiKrs
■ ■' r, who is the sole