Volume
IN ESSENTIALS, UNITY; IN NON-ESSENTIALS, LIBERTY; IN ALL TIIINGS, CHARITY.
XXXIII. SUFFOLK, VA., FRIDAY NOVEMBER 12, 1880. Number 45.
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||odri).
•-■——
BE OF GOOD CHEER.
Though tanglcl hard life'" knot may bo
And wearily we rue it,
The silent touch of Father Time
Some day wilt sure undo it.
Then, darling, wait;
Nothing is lute
Iu the light that shines forever.
We faint at heart, a friend is gone;
We chafe at the world’s lmreh drilling-;
We tremble at sorrow on every side,
At the myriad ways of killing.
Yet say we all,
If a sparrow fall,
The Lord keepeth count forever.
He keepeth count. We come, we go,
Wc speculate, toil, and falter ;
But the measure to each of weal or woe
God only can give 6r alter,
He sendeth light,
He sendeth night,
And change goes on forever.
Why not take life with cheerful trust,
With faith in the strength of weakness?
The slenderest daisy rears its head
With courage, yet with meekness :
A sunny face
Hath holy grace
# To woo the sun forever.
Forever and ever, my darling, yes—
Goodness and love are undying;
Only the troubles and cares of earth
Arc winged from the first for flying,
Our way we plough
\ In the furrow “now I”
But after the tilling and growing, the sheaf;
Soil for the root, but the sun for the leaf—
And God keepeth watch forever.
—Mary M. Dodge.
THE GUARANTEE.
Very heavy burdens are carried in
this world. Christians have these
burdens laid on them, as well as un
believers. Indeed, it is not unlikely
that Christians suffer more tbau men
of the world. The latter do not
think; they often take life easy.—
Then there is a class of afflictions,the
bitterest of all, which do not reach
the unbeliever. The Christian moth
er’s heaviest sorrow is, perhaps, on
account of a son, for whose salvation
her spirit knows no rest. Her sor
row may have passed even that point.
Then, again, it is through affliction
that God prepares his chosen ones for
the kingdom above. It is in the fire
that the gold is to be refined until it
is thoroughly purged of all alien prin
ciples. “In the world ye shall have
tribulation.” “Exhorting them to
continue iu the faith, and that we
must through much tribulation enter
into the kingdom of God.” We
thiuk it is a great mistake to paint
the Christian life as a path of flowers.
“And others had trials of cruel mock
iugs and scourgings, yea, moreover,
of bonds and imprisonment. They
were stoned, they were sawn asun
der, were tempted, were slain with
he sword?1' -'
The early Christians courted mar
tyrdom. They carried it to a point
of fanaticism. It was their idea that
by sealing their testimony with their
blood, they earned a crown that ordi
nary Christians would not receive.
We know very well that the man-'
liest traits of the human character
are developed by a life of hardness,
and we know very well that the tears
that silently steal down the cheeks of
t he mourner are like drops from heav
en to nourish within all Christian
graces.
What shall the poor Pagan do—
what shall the unbeliever in a Chris
tian land do, when his heart is wrung
with anguish! when the night grows
so deep that he can see nothing but
the blackness of darkness I Where
shall the eye be turned to pierce that
thick veil I
And, oftentimes, the Christian is so
hedged in, and the wheels of His
chariot are so slow in coming, that
hope almost dies, Blow follows blow.
Years succeed years, and there is no
relief. What then ?
In that case, wo may recall the
phrase, “God, that cannot lie.” We
do not doubt his power to deliver, or,
if deliverance be not well, to overrule
in a better way. He has also prom
ised to stand by us. So that here are
the Power and the Promise—and then
we are assured that it is “impossible
for God to lie.” Darkness reigns su
preme ; you cannot see anything to
comfort. The case seems without
remedy. Then, we urge, “it is impos
sible for God to lie.” (Titus i. 2.)
“That by two immutable things, in
which it was impossible for God to
lie, wo might have a strong consola
tion, who^have fled-it>r refuge to lay
hold up6n the hope set before us;
which hope we have as an anchor of
the soul, both sure and steadfast, and
which entereth into that within the
vail,; whither the forerunner is for ns
entered, even Jeans, made a high
priest for ever after the order of Mel
chizedek.” (Hob. vi. 18.)
We have said nothing of God’s
Love :
“What shall we then say to these
! things 1 If God be for us who can be
against us? He that spared not flis
own Son, but delivered him np for us
all, bow shall ho not with him ilso
freely give us all things? Who siall
lay anything to the charge of God's
elect. It is God that justifieth. \Vho
is ho that condometh ? It is Christ
that died, yea, rather; that is risen
again,'who is even at the right hand
of God, who also maketh intercession
for ns. Who shall Separate us frim
the love of Christ? Shall tribulation,
or distress, or persecution, ^>r famine,
or nakedness,or peril, or sword ? i.s
it is written, For thy sake we dre
killed all the day long; we are Ac
coanted as sheep for the slaughter.
Nay, in all these things we are more
than conquerors through him that
loved ns. For I am persuaded that
neither death, nor life, nor angels,
nor principalities, nor powers, nor
things poesent, nor things to come,
nor height, cor depth, nor any other
creature, shall be able to separate ns
from tbe love ot God, which is in
Christ Jesns our Lord.”—Central
Presbyterian.
THE DIVINE GLORY AS A MOTIVE IN
CHRISTIAN LIFE.
Noble and potent are many of the
incentives to duty which arises from
within our better natures, or are ex
cited by the calls of need from with
out. Such are a deep conscientious
ness, the love of the right for its own
sake, a sense of the absolute authori
ty of all truth, a delight in purity,
sympathy in suffering, and love for
our fellowmen. But do one of those
motives, nor all combiued, can insure
the integrity of character, llnd the
fulfillment of the highest mission iu
life. The grand incentive is that
which was the constant and all-sway
ing thought of our blessed Master,su
preme love for His Father in heaven,
and devotion to His glory.
This will be found to be, in every
way, most hopeful. Especially will
the light from the divine glory guide
us along the line of duty when the
path is dark, and we are in doubt as
to the most excellent way. Our best
purposes often get entangled among
our wisest thoughts about the meth
od of accomplishing them, nutil at
length we doubt the merit of the orig
inal iutention, and are easily tempted
to abandon it. Starting upon a jour
ney through the dense wilderness,
my guide, who could not be with me
at the time, gave me this counsel:
“If ydu miss the path, remember that
the plape you are to come out lies jnst
east; %iep that direction and the
path will find you. It must come in
there, however much it may wind.”
So the divine glory is the moral east,
the end of all paths of duty. In all
doubt of the detailed steps take your
direction by the great end. Couse
crate yourself anew to the will of your
heavenly Father ; be sure that yon
have that unselfish impulse to serve
only him; then go ahead as best yon
can. You will probably soon discov
er the path lying at your feet. And
if the path never appears to the sat
isfaction of your judgment, you may
have the better satisfaction of know
ing that it will end in what is just
right and best; for this is the prom
ise, “Inall thy waysaeknowledgeHim,
and He shall direct thy paths.”
But this incentive, if faithfully fol
lowed, will not only guide us in the
way of duty, it will inspire us with
strength to pursue it. No other mo
tives are sufficient to keep the moral
energies persistent and forceful in
their oporatious. The staunchest
conscience sometimes gets limp under
temptation, like a hickory bow when
wet, so that it fails to send the arrow
of duty straight to the mark. So love
and sympathy, however strong at the
start, often fail to keep us up iu the
way of doing good, through, perhaps,
a misuuderstaudiug between ns and
the object of our kindness; or our
charity loses toue when we find that
it is not sufficiently appreciated.—
Those reservoirs of motive are not
high enough to raise the stress of ac
tion to the highest duties. It will be
found that for the unselfish and un
worldly career demanded of the Chris
tian, there will be need and-incentive
out of self and beyond the world. For
this there must be inspired a “pas
sion for God, a conscientiousness
which is enamored of divine holiness;
a sympathy and love which are sus
tained by the love of God shed abroad
iu our hearts by the Holy Spirit given
unto us.” When 'our ambition is
raised from the baubles that glitter
along the earth like perishable dew
[drops, to tlio divino glory which fills
| the heavens, as the eagle is said to
soar with his e.ve upon the sun, then
the promise will be verified in onr cz
rperience: “But they that wait upon
’the Lord shall renew their strength;
[they shall monnt up with wings as
eagles: they? shall ruu and ,?<•
weary ; and they shall waflfc.OO
faint.”—Illustrated Chrislivfcl-30
■ -1-_...__.-earn
THE SUNNY H0MFtierc.
I know a room where si*,
gets, and there is a brea
mer and mignonette in t
ever T think of it. Then
comes home and throws off overcoat
aud hat without looking to see what
becomes of,them. There is a broad
table in the light, strewn with papers
re
•trft-i
road
in tt
resu
prof
aud
loom
and
coal
two
n
aud magazines, women’s work, with
a litter of rose leaves dropping over
a wide sofa of the days
ges, fresh covered in
them from a central vase. There is
of the Geor
chiatz, with
terns aud harebells for patterns, and
a tired man goes down there witjfa
great rnflfied pillow under his should
ers, and opens parcels and letters,
droppiug them on the floor, as the
most natural place for them. A girl
has been painting, and her water
colors and papers lie on a side table,
just as she left them to rusl* for an
impromptu ride. I have never been
able to discover any disarrangement
of the household economy by this
flight. Somebody left a shawl on a
chair. There will be nothing said
abont it at breakfast nest morning.
There are no laws there against
playing with the curtain tassels, no
regulations as to how often the snowy
curtaiDS may be put uf or left down.
They do not last the season out,crisp
aud speckless as thq neighbor’s do
across the way, but ihe only conse
quence is they are eftener new and
clean. There is nothing very fine
about this house, but thiugs are re
newed oftener and look brighter than
they do in other houses. The chaiys
have uo particular places, and any
body feels at liberty to draw the sofa
out when it pleases him. There is no
primness about the place. If there is
grass on the lawnj it is meant to be
i^ked ou, and the geraniums are
fJfuled and petted and caressed as if
they were children. Do you know
there is a magnetism in greeu leaves
aud growing flowers derived from the
earth’s heart, that makes it good to
handle and feel them f This house is
known as the place where one dares
to break fast. There is no ceremony
of waiting. Coffee and cakes are put
where they will be hot; the table is
cleared to suit the housekeeper’s con
venience, and a small one'set for the
late comer.
Nobody lies awake at night till the
light ceases to shine nnder yourebam
ber door, if you want to sit up and
read a volume through. There is an
unwritten law of convenience for the
household which regulates better
than any Code Napoleonic. And the
benefit of allowing people to be a law
unto themselves is, that they are much
betler-natnred about it when they do
obey. There is indulgence and re
pose in this lovely home, and a great
deal of time for things which most
people cut short—an hour’s play with
the childreu, a “right-down good”
chat with a neighbor, a day of letter
writing ouce a fortnight. Disorder
does not imply dust or* soil of auy
kind. It does not include shabbiness
or mean chaos. It meaus “leave to
be”—in most cases, thinking of peo
ple more than thiugs. Order is sim
ply harmony of a few notes. Disor
der is the flowering, branching melo
dy of one theme—and that theme, in
dividuality.—Southern Churchman.
THEN ! HAVE GOT IT.
Some years ago I was leaving a ball
in Glasgow, in which I had been
preaching the gospel, when a respect
able man, with a very eager face,
stretched onb his hand and grasped
mine saying, “Sir, I am very anxious
to get salvation.”
“Then,” I said, “God is very anx
ious to save you.”
He listened earnestly to hear what
I would say to him, hopiug some
\vord would give him peace; but I
only put the gospel to hiui in the
most familiar text of Scripture. As
I reminded him that “God so loved
the world that He gave His only be
gotten Son, that whosoever believeth
on Him suould not perish, but should
have everlasting life,” he stopped me
by saying:
“But 1 do believe in Jesus.” ***:
I replied, “Jesus said, ‘He that be
lieveth on Me hath everlasting life.’”
A look of astonishment and joy im
mediately broke ovet; his face as he
said, “Then I have got it 1 Thank
God, I have got everlasting life.”
• *
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NO SABBATH.
Id an essay on the Sabbath, writ
ten by a journey-man printer, in
Scotland, there occurs the following
passage. Kead it, and then reflect
for awhile what a dreary and deso
.lute page would this life present if
fraySabbatb were blotted out from
^calculation.
lti?8'ukcfellow 1 think how the ab
struck tfonbe Sabbath w 0111(1 b°P°
notives f slave the working classes
mixing » m we are identified. Think
&c. Tw|,0ing on in one monoton
2JS?L-ifieterual cycle, limbs forever
on the rack, the fingers forever strain
ing, the brow forever sweating, the
feet forever plodding, the brain for
ever throbbing, the shoulders for
ever drooping, the loius forever ach
ing, and the restless mind forever
schemiug.
“Think of the beauty it would ef
face, the merry-heartedne88 it would
extinguish, of the giant strength it
would tame, of the resources of na
ture it would drain, of the projects
it would wreck, of the groans it
would extort, of the lives it would
immolate, and of the cheerless
graves it would prematurely dig!—
See them toiling and moiling, sweat
ing and fretting, grinding and hew
iDg, weaving and spinning, strewing
and gatheriug, mowing and reaping,
raising and building, digging and
planting, striving aud struggling—
iu the granary and barn, in the fac
tory aud in the mill, in the ware
house and in the shop, on the moun
tain and in the ditch, on the road
side and in the wood, in the city and
in the country, on the sea and on the
shore, in the day of brightness and
of gloom. What a picture would
present if we had no Sabbath!”—
Cen. Presbyterian.
OUT OF SELF.
The question of prime importance
to you is not, Are you a Christian !
but, is Jesus Christ your Saviour !
These questions may seem to aim at
the same point; but they involve
very different processes of mind in
their answering; and herein consists
the superiority of the latter form ov
er the former. Your hope of salva
tion must not rest on what you are,
but on what your Saviour is and does.
If yau look at yourself to find a
ground of hope, you will never be
satisfied—unless you are deceived.
But if you look at Jesus, you can see
reason enough for hope. Jesus
Christ came.into the world to save
sinners—not Christians, but sinners.
If you are a sinner, you may be sure
that you are one of the very class
Jesus Christ came to save. If as a
sinner you trust yourself to Jesus
Christ as the Saviour of sinners, He
will not fail you : you may be sure of
eternal safety. The question, Am 1
a Christian I has troubled many an
anxious mind for weary years; and
the more the inquirer has pondered
it, the less hope there has seemed of
its settling. But there need be no
such trouble in settling the question,
Is Jesus Christ my Saviour I Whom
did Jesus Christ come to save T Are
you one of that class! Do you want
him to save you ! Is he able to do
so! Is he willing! Do you trust
yourself to him ! These are the ques
tions for you. The more you look
away from yourself, aud the more you
fix your gaze on Jesus, the firmer
your ground of hope will be. There
is a great deal of time wickedly wast
ed on self-examination that might be
profitably given to the contemplation
of the Saviour.—S. S. Times.
Another Hoop.—Two neighbors,
says Spurgeon, a cooper and a farm
er, were spending an evening togeth
er. Both were professors of religion,
but of different communions. Their
conversation was first upon topics
relating to practical religion, bnt af
ter a time it divulged to the points
of difference between the two denomi
nations to which they belonged. It
first became a discussion, aud then
a dispute. The cooper was the first
to perceive its unprofitable and inju
rious tendency, and remarked, “We
are springing apart from each other;
let ns put on another hoop—let us
pray.” They kneeled down aud
prayed together, after which they
spent the remainder of the evening
lovingly together, conversing on the
things of the kingdom in which they
both felt an equal interest.
* A gentleman had a board put up
6n a part of his land, on which was
written, “I will give this field to any
one who is really contented.” And
when an applicant came, he asked,
“Are you contented!” The general
answer was, “I am,” And his reply
invariably was, “Then what do you
want with my field t”
l
THE DEAD PRAYER OFFICE.
What becomes of the nanswercd
letters 1 Thousands of them find
their way to the dead letter office.
Some never reach the person for
whom they ^were intended because
the postage is not paid; some fa:I
because they are directed to the
wrong office ; some cannot be sent
because the address is illegible ; and
and some because the matter enclos
ed is unmailable. These float
through the mails, are examined at
different offices, marked “rnisEent”
aud finally they fall into the dead
letter office. There they are opened
and read, and, if valuable, are for
warded, if not they are given to the
flames. Such is the accuracy and!
skill of the postal officials that very j
few letters ever fail to reach their j
destination.
Some prayers never reach God be
cause they are not addressed to God's
office. They are directed to the au
dience. Here one prays a “sharp
cut” to some stubborn brother, or
rebukes some error in theology in
another, or drives some keenedge
blade of censure into another, directs
a severe criticism to some who are
rushing into fashionable follies, and
sometimes (shame on us) the -very
supplication which we offer in teuder
est tones, iu behalf of the weeping
widow aud helpless orphans, is .in
tended more for those who kueel in
mourning before us than for God
who sits in glory above us. God’s
office is not w our neighbor’s care,
and if we direfet our prayers to that
point, they will certainly go to the
“dead prayer office.”
Again, there is a prayer upon
which the address is illegible—not
because it is a rough scrawling “hand
write;” these can always be deciph
ered, but because it has so many ex
tra flourishes. This prayer is utter
ed in a pompons, grandiloquent style.
It is full of long words, scientific
terms and classical quotations. The
writing on the envelope is very much
in keeping with the style on the in
side. The ink was fancy, and it
soon faded, the pen was the tongue,
and it did not see the color in the
prayer. How different when indited
by the heart! It is no wonder that
this prayer gets lost, and finds its
way iuto the “dead"prayer office.”
The last prayer we notice is the
unavailable prayer. There is a
great latitude allowed us in the pos
tal matter of our government, but
there are a few things which cannot
even get into the mail bags. Sharp
edged tools and corroding acids, uo
matter how securely wraped will
not be transported through the
mails,these are put in a seperate box
aud sent to the dead letter office, or
they are captured by the first post
master that handles them. Many of
our prayers, if answered, might be a
blessing to us, but they would fall
like a shower of daggers upon onr
neighbors. Sometimes in our pray
ers we half way complain of the
strange providence which has befal
len us, and argue the case with God ;
then the prayer is full of sharp point
ed arrows. Is it at all strange that
kind answers are not returned 1 The
corroding of selfishness or •sensual
ity or pride is sometimes in our pray
er. Such a prayer is lost on the way.
It is poured out in midair. It is nev
er answered, and well for us that it
is not.
“No legally “stamped,” sincerely
directed and well-meaning prayer ts~
ever lost. The answer may be de
layed, but the prayer is “on file.”—
Advance
An Amusing Incident.—In a lit
tle village in Virginia there lived a
family named Ransom. They were
not very pious people, and never
went to chnreh. Once however, dur
ing a revival, the family were prevail
ed upon to attend preaching. When
they made their reluctant and tardy
appearance the services had just be
gun, aud when they had scarcely tak
en their seats, the minister gave out
the first hymn, reading it somewhat
thus: “Return: ye ransom sinners,
home.” “All right!” cried the head
of the Eausoms, getting up in a rage,
and clapping his hat on his head.—
“Come along, old woman aud gals,
we’ll go home fast enough, and every
body in the old church knows wo
didn’t want to come.”
I say it deliberately, and with
profouud convictions, I am thank
ful of God that I am a poor man ; a
thousand times have I felt a pro
fouud seuse of gratitude to God
that my Father was a poor man.
I think it not unlikely that if in my
youth I had money to spend free, 1
should have gone to destruction.—
Marvin. ^_
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' A LITTLE LAND WELL TILLED.
Many a farmer has learned that “a
little land well tilled, a little lionse
well tilled, and a little wife well drill
ed,'’ are among the greatest ;*id
most invaluable of earthly blessings.
Thrones, riches, and fame are lt*s
productive of real happiness, and he
who enjoys health anti a country
home, witli some rural queen for hi.^
companion, needs not to travwl far
for earth’s riches gifts and pleasures.
From the earth springs every good
arid satisfying gift., and a well tilled
farm may be regarded as the source
of everything that man needs.
But the term “a welt tilled farm ’
is indeed a comprehensive one. In
its fullest sense, it means a thorough
and continual development of every
resource and capability of the farm
that can tend to • the beast. Every
plant of the farm is turned to some
account, hew farms, perhaps none,
are thus thoroughly developed. Ag
riculture has not yet arrived at this
•state of perfection, but we rejoice to
believe that it is gradually approach
ing that coveted gaol. When laud
shall be folfy developed, when the
cultivation has become thorough,
when every recourse shall yield re
sults, when every foot of soil shall
drop its monthly, quarterly, or semi
annual gift into tjte'nands of the in
dustrious and skillful husbandman—
when farming from the perfection of
art and science shall seem more like
a healthful recreation than laborious
and exhausting drudgery, when all
the powers of nature wisely directed
shall lift from man the burden of toil
—then will one acre yield the result;
of five now, and a “little farm” will
excell many a great one of the pres:
eut day. Then the farmer who does
no! have some crop growing and
something maturing at all seasons
will be regarded as very much be
hind the times—the one who caiiDot
go to his farm any month in the
year and get something to bring him
“a dollar or two,” will be looked up
on as extremely unfortunate.
To this height agriculture is tend
ing, and will attain at no distant day.
The time is coming when it "will not
be deemed necessary to employ a
score of laborers to perform some j
paltry and perhaps profitless job.
The farmer himself on his little farm,
preparing for one crop as ho gathers
another, sowing while he is reaping,
and garnering at the same time that
he is planting,—and doing all with
the slow and easy movement that in
sure perfection, will realize more
from his own efforts than many a
planter gleans from the service of
twenty laborers. Escaping a world
of vexation and ilhtemper arising
from the ignorauce or stubbornness
of the laborer, his only assistants
those of his own household, who can
not see that farming will then be a
pleasanter^ employment than now—
that the little farmers will be the
thrifty and independent farmers of
the land.
That these results are not only
possible, but particularly attainable
in a short series of years we positive
ly assert. The whole secret of it
lies in concentration—concentration
of labor, energy, manure, skill,
thought,and acres. Men must learn
to measure the size of their farms by
their available amount of the j>bove
articles. It is idle to expect to make
money, or even a decent living, on a
large farm without adequate means.
If you are oh a large place fear not
to curtail your cultivable area to suit
your means. One acre' well fertiliz
ed, thoroughly cultivated, and rapid
ly rotated, will yield more profit than
five given to a single crop. Better
own a little land and till it well than
a large farm without the means to
develop its capacities.—Rural Mes.
i senger.
IRREGULAR WEAR OF HOOFS.
In cases of irregular wear of the
hoofs the only remedy consists iu re
moving the excessive growth by par
ing with a knife. Only so much
should be removed as to give the
foot an approximately natural shape.
It this is attended to regulary once a
mouth or every six weeks, no further
trouble may be experienced. Such
deviations in the natural shape ot
the hoofs are generally the conse
quence of want of wear, as in cases
where cattle are kept indoors during
a long period. In paring such feet
due cai'e must be exercised not to
cut too close to the vital part or to
draw blood, iu which cose bad results
may follow.— Western Rural
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SALT FOR TREES.
Voting fruit trees can be made to
grow and do well in places where
old trees have died, by sowing a
pint of salt on the earth where they
are to stand. After trees are set,
continue to sow a pint of salt around
each tree every year. 1 set twenty
live trees in sandy soil for each one
of seven years, and only succeeded
in getting one to live, and that only
produced twigs a few inches long in
nine years. Last spring 1 sowed a
pint of salt around it, and limbs
grew three and a half feet long. In
‘.t!ie spring of 1877 I set out twenty
live trees, putting a pint of salt in
die dirt used for filling, aud then
skwed a pint or more on the surface
after each tree was set. All grew
a;iif they had never been taken from
the nursery. Last spring I set 30
more, treating them in the same way,
andsthey have grown very finely.
Thefealf keeps away insects that in
jure the roots and renders the soil
morel capable of sustaining plant
growth.—Ex.
SETTING ORCHARDS.
Mr. Tm. Saunders, horticulturist
iu charge of the public gardeus and
grounds at Washington city, obesrv
es that the outside rows of trees in
an orchard.always grow more thrifty
than interior rows. He attributes
this to the cultivation of the soil in
the fields alongside of the orchard
giving room fipr the ramfication of
the roots in cultivated soil. He
thereupon suggests that trees be set
in two rows, twenty-five or thirty
feet apart, then a space of 300 feet
or more, and two more rows of trees,
and so on over the ground ; the in
tervening 300 febt of ground to be
cultivated in such crops as may be
desired, and the space between the
rows of trees to be-put in grass as
soon as they begin to bear.^He
thinks the cultivation of the ground
would keep the trees healthy, and
conduce to their bearing fruit. Mr.
Saunders thinks double rows of trees
would shelter the crops between, and
be beneficial iu that way.
FENCE POSTS.
“The decay of wood imbedded in
the earth is difficult to guard against;
but a simgle precaution, costing nei
ther money nor labor, will increase
the durability of posts put iu the
ground by 50 per cent. This is by
simply taking care that the wood is
inverted, i. e., placed in the opposite
direction to that which it grew.
Experiments have proved that oak
posts put in the ground in the same
position as that in which they grew,
top upwards, were rotten in twenty
years, while their neighbor, ent from
the same tree, and placed top down
wards iu the soil, Showed no signs of
decay for several years afterwards.
It is supposed that the capill^y
tubes iu the tree are so adjusted as
to oppose the rising of moisture
when the wood is inverted. What
ever the cause, the fact is of impor-.
tauce.”
LEAF AND FLOWER IMPRESSIONS.
Oil a piece of white paper on one
side: hold the side that is oiled over
a lamp or pine-knot smoke till quite
black surface, as the veins and fibres
of the leaf show plainer on the under
part; now press it ou all parts of' the
leaf and put the black oiled sides on
the page of a book (made for leaf
impression) with an extra piece of
paper ou the top to prevent smut
ting the opposite page; press it a
few moments; then remove the green
leaf, and the impression will be left
on the page as beantifnl as an en
graving. Flowers of single corolla
can be pressed in like manner. Many
of the geraninm leaves make beauti
fnl impressions. The impression
book may be made still more inter
es ting, by giving botanical classifi
cations of each leaf and flower.—The
Garden.
PRESERVATION OF FRUIT BY BURIAL.
Last January a California fruit
dealer took two hundred fresh le
mons fresh from the tree and buried
them in the ground to see how they
would keep. Four months after he
dug them up and found them in per
fect preservation, as sound and fresh
and nice as the day they were bur
ied. Every one knows how well po
tatoes keep when properly covered
by earth. Apples would doubtless
do equally as well; and possibly the
same method may answer for grapes
and other more perishable fruit. It
would not cost muelrfio try a Few ex
periments in this direction, and suc
cess could not fail to be advantage- /
ous.
Subscbibe ibr the Sun,