111E- 1.01.11 cunts.
Miss Tabby w' s a stoutly built Eng
”lish Woman about thirty-five years oi
sage, and she was accustomed to take
' an early walk round Regent‘s I’arl
every morning, between six and sevm,
when the weather permitted. She
called it her “constitutional."
She was a daily governess, and
worked for a meager salary on winch
she supportcd her aged mother.
' This was the titre when 1:1.1lies wore
side curls such as those which so 1:11-
'becomingly decorate portraits of the
late Mrs. Browning.
Miss Tabhv was by no means a
beauty; her face was too bioad her
‘mouth too wide, her lips too thin and
the upper one too long; but her teeth
were white and strong and l'Gf"lZlill‘.
Her eyes were the sweetest in the
vworld, and web merry ones they Were
.too!
Miss Tabby were false .cv-rls. She
had some real ones, but they were
very scanty. and to supplement them
she wore on each side of her face tlll‘ct
dark brown ringlets that dangled from
:a little side comb, so she had only to
stick the comb into her hair and there
"they Were. ‘
As I have mentioned, Miss Tabby
'was a great walker. It was three miles
around Regent’s Park, and she did it
in an hour. She walked with a long
stride and a springy gait. and with a
certain heave of hct plump shoulders
that was quite perceptible through the
Paisley shawl whi h formed the inva-
riable wrap in the walking costume of
that period.
One lovely morning, when the park
had put on its brightest dress of ver-
dant green to greet the advent of the
London season, v.‘.1en the hawthorn,
lilac and chestnut trees were out in
bloom, delighting t‘1e senses with their
beauty and frag ance, Miss Tabby
commenced her walk precisely at
.seven o‘clock.
This morning sl'e stepped jauntily
'nlong, holding up 11er dress over her
hooped skirt quite unaware that there
was 'a tall military gentleman not very
far behind her.
“Fine walker,” said the gentleman.
looking critically at the lady in ad-
vance of him. “Sic must have been
"drilled at some tire in her life by a
sergeant. I believe she could keep
133.81) with me. and I never yet foam? a
woman wlzo could do that; but then. to
‘13:? sure, an old bachelor like 1115's it
does not often walk with ladies. What
a sensible woman she must be to wean
those stout boots!”
Just then the lady in front dropped
something; it was a little blacky
{noun thing. all wiggles. The gentle-
man stopped. looked intently at it.
poked it with his umbrella. but could
make nothing of it. He finally stooped.
‘jpicked up the strange object gingerly
with his first finger and thumb, and
holding it at arm's length, gazed at it
.for some time.
“Looks like hair,” said he aloud for
being a lpnely old fellow he was accus
‘tomed to talk to himself. Diving has
icily into his pocket, he biought out his
:Spectacles, set them on his nose, and
studied the mysterious article minute-
'Iy. “By Jove, it’s curls!” he cried, and
hastened after the lady.
Miss Tabby’was startled when he
wvertook her, and taking off his hat
with a grand military bow presented
her with the .ringlets. She dropped
her dress, raised both hands to her
face, felt on one, side an abundance of
hair and on the other a vacuum. and
with a little embarrassed laugh put
out her hands for the curls. After in,
sorting them in their place an inspira
tion seized, her, for this London-bred
uldinaid was as guileless as a little
child. so gazing up innocently into the
old gentleman‘s face, she said naive
to.—
» “Will you be my looking-glass. sir,
and tell me if they are on straight?"
"Really, ma’am. 1 cannot tell. 1 am
-—a'.1em—not accustomed to shell
thi .‘,‘S."
"All, well." said the lady, who had
by this time recovered herself-posses-
:sio-n, "it does not greatly matter. I
.1s1‘1‘1p11se they will pass in a crowd. But
.just fancy what I should have suffered
if 1 had gone through Camden Town
"with three stout curls on. one side of
any face and two half starved ones on
the other! All the street boys would
have been guying me." And shr 1. milk
her ringiets at him and smiled.
t
The general was a sedate man with.
a very small sense of humor; but when
ZMiss Tabby drew this picture of her-
self he remembered how funny she
looked when he first overtook her,land
he laughed until the. tears stood in his
,aeyes. \Viping them away with a great
‘white silk pocket handkerchief, he
said.—
“‘110 you know you have made me
lilaugh for the first time for ten years?"
“Have, I?” she returned. with a
itwi-nkle in her sweet brown eyes. “My
friends tell me I have a faculty that
way. But i beg your pardon. sir; l
really did not mean to do it. and I
thank you very much for my lost
murls."
“The laugh has done me good,” said
the general.
Miss Tabby waited for him to con
1111111111 his walk, but he said,—
“As we seem to be out for a con'sli
tutional, have you any objection to our
walking together '3"
Miss Tabby, with all her sweetness,
7had a great deal of firmness of charac-
ter—what is called backbone: there-
fore at this question her long upper lip
«closed tightly down upon her thin un-
der one and the smile faded from her
face; she considered for a moment.
then answered very gravely,—
“As I am no longer young, and you
l
:appear to be a. respectable elderly gen
fireman, I suppose we can safely wall
together round the park. "
They began the1r conversation by
15341111113 of the weather. People in Eng-
w 111‘ E KL Y
land always do this. They advance
from the weathersto town topics, an
finally becoming confidential, talked a
themselves. Miss Tabby _was rathe
itshast when she found she was walls
:1": with a man whose name was wriv
ten in the history of' the British Err
pire; but she comforted herself by rt
net-ting that he was but a man, afte
all, and so went on as if nothing ha.
happened
“Aheml” coughed the general. “Wil
you accept the shelter of my um
b1oll1?”
The matter-of fact lady replied tha
she would be glad to do so.
“Ahem! Will you be offended if
suggest that, by taking my a1m yo:
will receive more benefit from it.”
Miss Tabby at once took his arm.
They walked on until they arrived a
the ugly little street in which she lived
l-Ier home was a few doors from tha
of the Italian conspirator, Mazzini. I
was hailing desperately when the;
reached the door, therefore Miss Tab
by felt herself compelled to ask be
new friend to take shelter in th.
house. She devoutly hoped be weak-
refuse, but he accepted the invitatio1
with the most cheerful alacrity, ant
followed her into the diminutive parlo
where her mother sat at the breakfas
table awaiting her.
Mrs. Tabby was the fac- simile of he.
daughter, allowing for the diffe1enc.
in yea1s.
“Mother, let me introduce to yet
General Banning who has come t1
take shelter from the storm.”
The general bowed over Mrs.
by‘s hand in his best Sir
Grandison style. |
“You will excuse us,” said Miss Tab
by, “if we proceed with breakfast, at
I am due at Hyde Park Corner at ter
o’clock.”
“Certainly," said the general seating
himself without further delay at the
t.able
Miss Tabby soon rose, and donnim
her wate1p1oof said, —
“I must commend you to the feudal
mercies of my mother, general, as l
have a long walk before me.”
“You do not mean that you are going
to walk all that distance?” he asked.
“I shall take an omnibus part of the
way.”
The general rose from his seat. drew
himself up to his full height—Miss
Tabby thought his head would toucl:
the ceiling—and said in his best mili
tary manner.—
“I desire, Miss Tabby, that you re
main here until I fetch a cab."
It was not long before he became
frequent visitor in Camden Town, ano
by-and-by he ventured _.to take the
ladies for a stroll in the Botanical anc
Zoological Gardens.
He never escorted them to Kensing
ton Gardens; he was afraid of meeting
some of his rich relations, who might
make inquiries concerning the ladies
that he did not care to answer: He had
quite a considerable fortune, and al
though his brothers did not care for
him, they had a great affection for his
money, and they kept their eyes or
him for that reason. But as for any
attention they ever showed him, it
never went farther than an invitation
to a grand party now and then.
Things went on this way until the
end of September ~wheu the fashion»
ables had left town and Regent’s Park
looked very deserted. wet and dreary.
It was raining as usual. one Saturday
morning. as the general and Miss
Tabby were proceeding arm in arm
under one umbrella. After quite a
long silence the general said.—
“Do you remember Miss Tabby, the
remark I made about your walking
when first we met?" '
“Oh. yes! You said I was the
Walker. for a lady, you ever saw."
“And did I not say anything else?”
“You said I was the only lady who
could keep step With you."
"Well. don‘t you think, as we walk
so well together, we might as Well
keep step for the rest of ouriives?”
Miss Tabby hesitated and blushed.
She had not blushed for years until
that spring morning a few months ago,
Tab
best
‘when the general presented her with
the lost curls, and ever since then she
had been troubled in this particular.
Usually when she answered the gen-
eral she raised her eyes to his face;
she had to raise them a long way, as
his height was considerable; but to-
day she looked down at his boots and
remarked unconsciously to herself that
he had his goloshes on, while she had
forgotten hers.
“Well. Miss Tabby, I am waiting for
my answer.” said the general.
Now he had on an Inverness cloak:
it had a very large cape which hid the
plump hand that'rested on his arm: he
therefore thought he might safely give
it a little pressure.
“Well. general." said Miss Tabby,
“do you think your relatives would ap-
prove of me?"
“Bother my relatives!" said the gen-
eral. “I am not going to marry to
please them. but myself."
The lady finally gave her consent.
and so it camelto pass that a few
weeks afterward they we1e m .1 rr‘ed in
the little church at Highg ate by its un-
pretending ministei: and the gener'sal I
brother, the rich Indian merchant. and
his family were greatly astonished
when they received a very large enve-
lope containing a smaller and more or-
nate one. from which they drew two
ends tied together by a little silver
cord. '
On the smaller ones were engraved
the words, “General Banning, V. (3..
Hanover Terrace, Regent‘s Park.”
And on the larger one, “Mrs. Banning,
Hanover Terrace. Regent’s Park.”
Great was their consternation, and
many were the disagreeable remarks
passed upon the couple by those rich
and selfish people; but they never
knew how much happiness was sigui.
'1‘1ed by the little silver cord that tied
the L111 118 together.
MRS. JAN-E B. ROWE.
Charle: _
A Handkerchief Bag.
A handkerchief bag is ex‘remely
useful for'travellers. When one goes
away for two or three days with but
a handbag or a small satchel one‘s
handkerchiefs are very liable to be-
come tUmbled or soiled before one is
ready to use them. But if kept in a
little bag they will come forth as fresh
and dainty as when they were put in.
The making of the bag is within the
power of any one who cansew and
do simple embroidery.
Buy a quarter of a yard of fine shirt-
ing linen. Rinse and iron it before cut-
ting. Cut off from one end five inches,
and double forthe bottom of the bag.
making it an even square. On one half
outline in the prevailing color of the
embroidery the word, “Handker-
chiefs.” Baste a two-inch hem across
\i. gigg— .1 J
‘20:}? "AK A
'75.)“ « gay
i ‘l «1 "it ’1"
\ $1142 ’37
|
K
\m"? '/ £1
"f . 2-7 ,1"\ -'
the other piece of linen, and below
this embroider scattered flowers. Vio-
lets, with stems but no leaves, lend
themselves most readily to this de-
sign, and are suggestive for a hand-
kerchief bag. Then join the ends,
Stitch the hem, and three-quarters of
an inch above stitch again, to make
a place for the drawing ribbons. Put
a frill of narrow lace on top of bag.
Gather the bottom, divide into quar-
ters, and sewon the bottom piece, first
turning in the edges and basting them
together. Get two yards of narrow
violet ribbon—wash ribbon is prefer.
able—for drawing strings. A little vio-
let powder laid insde, or some drops of
perfume, will add to the att1actions of
the bag as a dainty, acceptable gift.—
New York Tribune.
Ma's. Gladstone/5 Influence.
A woman’s silent influence over the
affairs of a nation is shown in the ca-
l‘ccr of Mrs. Gladstone. She-is not a
social or political leader, nor in any
way a diplomat in pettico-ats. She is
responsible, however, far more than is
generally known, not only for her hus-
band‘s vigorous health at his ripe old
age, but also for his great ability to
accomplish the amount of work which
he has through his public life and
since his retirement. When he was in
office it was her ceaseless care that
he should not be distracted by any-
thing that she could prevent, words
' that meant remarkable self-abnega~
tion. The interests of a growing fam-
ily of seven children with a. fond and
proud mother might easily have made
considerable demand upon the father’s
attention. but neither this nor any so-
cial duties, nor any household perplex-
ities, were ever permitted to touch his
leisure from statecraft cares. Her
watchfulness has not decreased these
later years; she is still his best physi-
cian, and saves his strength in innu-
merable ways, trifling in themselves, but
important in the aggregate, and possi-
‘ ble only to one who has made such
saving a life study. Blessed herself
with excellent health all her life, she
wears her 83 years lightly, and still
shows many traces of the handsome
Miss Glynne, who captivated the ris-
ing young M. P. over half a century
1go.—New York Evening Post.
S's: ping on the Stomach.
Sound. restful sleep, both. by night
and by day, is more easily induced if
from the first; the child be taught to
lie on its stomach and face. The only
necessary precaution against suffoca-
tion is the provision of a smooth, fiat.
somewhat hard htair mattress without
a, pillow. The advantages of this po-
sition are many. Some one has said
that half the diseases of infancy re-
sult from keeping the stomach too
cold and the other half from over»
heating the spine. By adopting the
position suggested as the uniform one
during the hours of sleep, the stom-
ach and abdomen are kept so warm
as to prevent colic and stomach ache.
and materially to aid the digestive
process, while the spine and back of
the head are no longer overheated by
the increased temperature of the
sleeping child. It may be a. c0'inci-'
deuce merely, but. it is at least a sig-
nifioant one. that all the children.the
writer has known to_ rest habitually
face downward. have been unusually
sound sleepers, and have enjoyed
more than average good health—Har-
per’s Bazar.
To Wash \Vhite Feathers.
Soiled white feathers, after being
washed,‘ are dried by patting
shaking over the fire. A dull silver
knife must be used to curl each fibre
for the best effect. In preparing for
washing, pour boiling water on shav-
ings of white soap and a little soda.
When a lather has been formed that
is not too hot for the h~,and each
feather is washed separately; If the
lather becomes dark-colored, another
must be made. The rinsing water
should be cold and a trifle blue.
and.
nuawAnk
soAzn
DRAPED SKIRTS FOR CLOT'HV GOWNS.
Very Much In Favor but made
Bright wltn Gay Trimmings.
1153' Special Arrangement with the N.Y. Sun.)
All the shades of brown, from dark-
Brawn
est wood color to the palest ecru, are.
greatly favored for entire gowns, but
there is invariably some combination
of colors to brighten the effect; cerise
green, and the pink velvet shades are
especially popular.
Fancy plaid silks are used for the
bodice and sleeves in many 0f the plain
gray and brown gowns, with the bolerc
and epaulettes of the material. Anothei
model carried out in the new corded
material, dark blue in color, has a
bodice of green and dull redLiberty
gauze, with yoke and plastrons of the
material back and front alike. em-
broidered with green. The latest novel:
ty in cloth gowns is the draped skirt.
caught up on one side, to show a skirt
of contrasting colors. Fawu and white
are the colors in the model and brown
and gold braid is the trimming. Anoth-
er fawn cloth gown. with a zouave. is
trimmed with black and gold braid and
shows an under bodice of fawn and
black checked silk. ‘
The Eton jacket is a great favorite
for cloth gowns and it is in all possible
shapes and styles of trimming. The
newest cut is longer in front than at
the back. where it is short enough to
show the belt. The jackets are made
with and without 1-eve1-s,‘fastened over
one side. and are cut out in the 11ch
like the boleros to show the under bod-
lee. Another model for a black'and
white checked wool gown shows a
white cloth vest, an inner vest of
black satin, which also forms the belt.
and a touch of orange velvet at the
neck and wrists.
One very noticeable feature of dress
this season is the hand work neces-
sary to carry out the various modes of
trimming. Tucks are set into all sorts
,11‘:
“b.1111
of materials, and except in wash
gowns, and sometimes there. the sew-
ing is all done by hand. Pipings and
milliner‘s folds, carefully blind
stitched, trim skirts and waists, and
tiny pipings of contrasting 00101 are
set in on the edges of boxizontal tucks,
bright red or green being used with a
gray cashmere. and the bodice and
sleeves both being tucked round. Even
the collar bands on new gowns are
tucked, and whether the material is
silk, velvet, or organdie has nothing to .
do with the case; tucks, we must
have.
Like Blany Others.
“I thought you were going to get.
your share of the pie,” said the man
who had stayed at home.-
had stayed at home.
“I guess I couldn’t wait 12111;;-
enough,” said the man who had gun:
to Washington in a sleeper and Culll-L‘
back in the smoker. “i seem to ‘1‘
got no further than 111.: 3.11.;1.”——~-
an‘apol is .l on 1' nul.
[Where streets are "turnoikes"
n.
..
‘ \Vith rows of cheese on (lair
- honor.
G—‘1_ff;1‘..
FOR 1101's 11111
THE TOWN OF “USED-"J'Sadjf’
Grandma. lives in a. funny place,
The town of “Used-to-Be,”
and peouls
ale ",folks "
And a. nice but supper 111111113
Where' IS the town of “Usem-to-B "1’"
In grandma‘s memory briIht.
“The way?" Upstairs to grandma‘s room
(The cozy room on the right).
“When can you go there?" Twilight's hes!”
For the dreamy glow in the grate
Lights the Way to the town of "Used-t1.-Be,‘
And nobody need to wait.
And ugh! the sermons (:1 m in urc' long,
And three of them Snbhat. '.':“-l . y
In a "meeting place" so 0.11.1.11 11 11:1: 1'
IYhere the “tight-stove‘ zit-.11 "
11.: .~"1\'I’-. '-'.
But if grandma. shows you 11 summer scene,
In a farmhouse and orchari fair.
; 311911-113,
And bees in the clover-5w: 1»: air.
And there. beyond in the ki
G1 andma herself at. the w; .1
Spinning. singing. afafr ,\‘
‘ You say. for you can but. 1 -
“\Vhat a. dear, dear town of "Cred—31:39:
But grandma‘s voice drops in 11‘.
And she says‘ with a. lief-sad,
smile,
“ ’Twas all so long ago."
—Bos‘1.on Transcript.
Cil\\'l1’1,("
1;:11‘2-5.‘ wcct
Snake Swallowed :1 lion Cn‘o.
1‘1IcKinley, a cub was dozing
beside the stove in the winter quarters
of Lemon Bros.’ circus in Argentine
one morning not long ago, and not far
from the little sleeping fellow stood
several'large boxes of snakes.
There was not a human being; in the
room. It was as still as death.
Suddenly the head of a large South
American boa constrictor appeared
above one of the boxes. It ros slow-
lyu up into the ab until about two feet
of its body was in sight. ’lhen its
head dropped over the side of the box
and it began moving across the floor.
The snake moved up to within a few
feet of the lion cub, when it paused.
The cub’s tail was closest to the snake.
It glided closer yet, and then drew the
tail into its month. As the tail disap-
peared a wide spie-ading of its jaws
took in the entiie hindouaiters of the
cub. Men Iinlcy awoke, and be gun to
cry in a plaintive voice. Swiftly its
body disappeared, and louder grew its
cries. The mother of the only lion cub
born in. captivity in the United States
heard the walls of her offspring, and,
looking between the bars of her cage,
comprehended the situation at a
glance. She sprang to the bars and
let outa roar that b1ought eve1y ani-
mal in eveiy cage to its feet, and pan
demonium btoke loose. The mother of
McKinley roared incessantly, while
he lions joined in the chorus, and
.en the sea lions bcl lowed, and soon
the elephants began to trumpet Ti
1' .1
.11.. -1,
turmoil of the animals reached the/cir- ,
cus attaches in another building, and
they ran quickly to the scene. One of
them ran to the elephants, which were
tugging at their chains and trumpet-
1112‘,
them. Others tried to extricate Mc-
Kinley. One man caught McKinley by
the paws, and the other men held the
snake, and they all pulled together.
McKinley stayed where he was. Mat.
ters w e1e approaching a crisis It
was eit 11:21 the life of the snake 01 the
cub. A quick consultation was held,
and it was decided to sacrifice the
South American native. Knives were
procured, and the snake was cut in
two. The snake was handicapped by
its meal. It did not. ake long to sever
the body, though, and then they tried
to pull the cub through, but it stuck,
and stuck tight. It was necessary to
split the snake‘s jaws and pry them
apart before the cub could be released.
Then McKinley was taken out. He
was nearer dead than alive. ‘
His Opportunity.
A story which is not new is‘well told
by G eorge Cary Eggleston. A large
company had been invited to a ban-
quet at the mansion of Signor Faliero,
in France, and just before the hour,
the confectioner. who had been mak-
ing a large ornament for the table,
sent word that he had spoiled the
piece.
“If you will let me try, I think I can
make something that will do,” said a
boy, who had been employed as a. scul-
lion. “ _
“You!" exclaimed the head servant
in astonishment. “And who are you ?”
“I am 11111111110 Canova, the grandson
of Pisano. the stun: cutter, ” replied the
pale- faced little {1‘- Flow.
“And pray what can you do?" asked
the majorfilomo.
“I can make you something that Will
do fOr the middle of the table, if you‘ll
let me try.”
The servant was at his wits’ end, so
he told Antonio to go ahead and see
what he could do. Calling for some
butter, the scullion quickly mouldeda
large, crouching lion.
Dinner was announced, and many of
the most noted mere hauts,, princes and
noblemen of I enice were ushered into
the dining-room. Among them were
skilled critics of art work. ,W’hen their
eyes fell upon the butter lion, they rec-
ognized it as a work of genius. They
examined it. long and carefully, and
asked Signor Faliero what great sculp-
tor-thud been persuaded to waste his
skill upon a work in such temporary
material. .
When the distinguished guests
learned that the lion had been made
in a short time by a scullion, the din-
ner was turned into a feast in his
The rich host declared that he
would pay the boy’s rxpcnses under
the best masters, and he kept his word.
but Antonio was not spoiled by his
good fortune. He remained at heart
the same simple, earnest. faithful boy
who had triedsohard. to become a
good stonecutter in'the’shop of Plano.
Some may not have heard how the
boy
first great opportunity, but all know
“11' 15.11.111.111. one of the greatest scap-
mrs 0-? all time.
and with an iron prod quieted ,
Antonio took advantage of this!
. 'wherc.
Cleanliness in Dairy WOrko
Life. it has been said, is made up 01
little things, and it can.- be said that
dairying is made up the same way—in
fact, any business is made up of little
things and details, and if these are not
properly attended to, failure results.
One. of the most important details of
dairying is cleanliness. This should be
observed from the milking of the cowsl‘;
to the packing of the product-butter
especially.
The daily cleaning of,dairy utensils
is one of the important factors in pro-
moting cleanliness. All the milk in 01
on a dairy utensil should first be
rinsed off with water far below the
scalding point before any water up to
that point is used. If soaking water
is used at the start the milk is cooked-
and then it is almost impossible to re-
move it from the article—especially the
creases or scams if any there be.
If scalding water is used on a milk
strainer of fine meshes before the mills
has been rinsed with water of a lower
temperature the strainer will be about
as good. as ruined and the same will
result if the milk is allowed to dry in.
Therefore, if the user is not ready to
rinse off the milk as soon as through
usng let the strainer be put under wa
ter and left there till it can be proper-
ly cleaned.
The cans of portable creameries.
should be kept scrupulously clean. This
can be easily accomplished if attended
to every time they are‘emptied and the
rules above mentioned observed.
The water and ice tank of a portable
creamer-y should be carefully looked
after. In the first place care should
be taken to thoroughly rinse off all saw-
dust that may stick to the, ice before
the latter is placed in the tank. Next.
he sure when straining the milk not
to spill any of it into the water. But
if any gets into it then change the wat-
at O'llC‘E¥—€Sp0Cl1‘llly during 'warm
weather.
Every dairyman should have a dairy
room or house, and it should be lo-
cated where no foul odors would be
likely'to reach it.
That cleanliness is next to G-odlincss
is especially true when applied to
lairyin-g.—I\'estern Rural.
Orchard Planting by the \‘faysitlc.
This is receiving more attention in
some parts of our older states and dc-
serves much more than it gets any.-
Our public lands are so near
exhausted for homesteads, that the su
perabuudance of land in the Unitet
States 'will not allow us to he waste
fill in its use. In Germany the plant
ing of forest; trees by the roadside i:
no longer a practice. The highway:
are a continuous garden. The owne
of adjacent land has charge of th
roadway fruit; but the roadway 1:2'
ficials assume charge of the care ant.
protection of the trees. The railway
are now following the growing custom
and planting apples and pears alon
the sides of their tracks. There are 1
few sections in the United State
where apple and cherries have to
some years been the common roa
trees. The fruit, so fun as I can set
is no more subject to molestation tha
that which grows inside the lines o
strictly private ownership. I foun
nearlthnca, N. Y., choice cherries b
the side of the road; and the tree
were loaded with undisturbed frui
Possibly most of us would consent th.
even half of such fruit' should refres
the wayfarers, if we could utilize th
streets. and have half the product
co1zil1ehsation for the planting. In th'
section of the state, apple trees li
some of the roadways, but more a
tenti‘on is given to orname iztal shru
bery, extending the lawns to the strte
ditch.,—E.'P. Powell, New York.
:SWIss Chard. _
It seems strange that this generalt
useful and valuable vegetable shou
not have found a place in every far
garden. It is a form of beet in. whi
the leaves are the only part used, t
roots being small and fibrous... Tl
general culture of the plant is mu
like that of the ordinary beet with tl
exception that it requires more r001
as the foliage of each plant makes
good sized bust For boiled salad
greens. the young plants pulled 0
when thinning the main crop are 1n-
suitable, or the blades of the larg
may be used for the purpose. But t
best and most valuable part of t
plant is its large pure white stem
midrib of the leaf. These are cut 1
small pieces, stewed and served wi
11 white sauce, as used with aspa’rag
and celery. This is one of the m
prolific crops in existence, as only t
outer leaves are pulled off for use, .
new ones are growing from the he
in rapid succession. Moreover, it is
very ornamental plant, the variega.
forms of which are well adapted
grouping in lawns or flower gard
—American Agriculturist.
Pumpkins are Excellent.
Pumpkins are excellent food 1
cattle. hogs and chickens. Such
change of diet is beneficial a
profitable in toning up the system a
saving more and ‘costly foods. Th
can be grown very cheaply, for 1
field will produce a crop of corn
pumpkins at the same time. The 1
necticut field pumpkin is especia
adapted to growing in corn, and th-
is nothing to prevent every far It
having 50 to 100 and more loads ev-
year. There is little extra work
planting them just a few days bef 1
the corn is plowed the first time. W
they are mature, haul out to the p
ture or hog lot and break while
loading. Either hogs or cattle will ’-
them and it u‘iil surprise you to see 1
21111.1...iy oath and the be ucfit 1::1‘1'1'
Norwalk Chronicler