Tn 1+3
nvnnin
(1 (.Aml'rrn
sans IN TROUBLE.
I've got a letter, par-son, from my-son
away out West,
'An’ my 01' heart is heavy as an anvil in
my breast, '
To think the boy w hose future I had
once so p1oudly planned
Should wander from the path of right
an’ come to sich an end!..
I told him when he left us, not three
short years ago,
He'd find himself a-plowin’ in a mighty
crooked row—j '
He’d miss his father’s counsel,
mother’s prayers, too;
But he said the farm was hateful,
he guessed he’d have to go.
I know
youngster in the West,
But I believed our Billy had the cour-
age to resist,
an’ his
a 11’
An’ when he left I warned him 0’ the '
ever waitin’ snares
That lie like hidden sarpints in life’s
pathway everywhere.
But Bill he promised faithful to be
keerful, and he allowed
He’d build a reputation that‘d make
us mighty proud;
But it seems as how my counsel so t o’
faded from his mind,
An’ now the boy‘s in trouble of the very
wustest kind.
I—Iis letters came so seldom that I some-
how sort 0’ knowed
That Billy was a—tramping on a mighty
rocky road.
But never once imagined he would how
my head in shame,
An’ in the dust’d waller his 01’ daddy’s
, honored name.
He writes from out in Denver, an' the
story’s mighty short;
I just can’t tell his mother,
her poor 01’ heart.
An’ so I reckoned, parson, you might
break the news to her—
Bill’s in the Legislature, but he doesn’t
say what fur!
——Denver Post
THE WEDDING CAKE.
“But what shall I do with it?” he
asked helplessly.
She looked up at him and laughed
as he stood dangling a square white
box by its satin ribbon.
“There’s a. certain insanity in treas—
12-1'ing another fellow’s weddiig cake.
Won’t you take it—as a gift?”
"Thank’s, no,” she answered. “1
have a sufiiciency; begidcs. the charm
-is broken if you give it away.”
“Charm ‘3” he echoed. “What charm
has an infinitesimal piece of cake that
would not stay the appetite oi a mos-
quito? Silly custom this, anyhow,
of~”
“Do you mean to say,” she interrupt—
ed solemnly. “that you have attained
unto years of discr,etion and have
never t1ied the cha1m that lies in a
bit of. biides cake?”
. “'«Never’! ’ he averred.
She looked so bewitching in her
bridesmaid array that he would have
sworn to any fact 01' fala‘cy whatso
ever, could lie thereby prolong the
tete~a—tetc. In seeking a spot where
perchance that ubiquitous best man
might .be eluded, he had found this
curtained corner of the porch.
‘Then you must try it before you
are a night older,” she said, with a
pretty air of authority. "Cut a card
into seven slips and give me a pencil
and I’ll do the rest.”
He obeyed wit-h unwontcd docility.
“This is merely a short and sure
way to find out whom you are to
marry,” she resumed.
“I know whom I want to marry. I
don't need a piece of cake and seven
clips of paper to tell me that."
”\Vhom one wants to marry and
whom one marries are not always the
name individual!” she replied sen-
ten-tio-usly.
“Oh!” was his only audible remark.
“Now,” she went on, "I shall write
a. name on each of these six pieces
and leave one a blank—for bachelor—
bood, you know.”
“Um!” he assented.
“Then you will place them under
your pillow, with the wedding cake,
and draw one out each morning; the
last one—"' with a pause of emphasis.
“I understand,” he broke in. “The
last shall be first.
of six names; one is so indelibly
written on my heart tl1at—”
“Oh, I can arrange that!” she inter-
rupted blithely. “You know they must
be written by some one else, anyway
~so1ne disinterested person.”
“()h!”—very humbly.
But as he 'watched her brows wrin-
kle in perplexity, he concluded that
it was not such a. bad thing after all,
this idea of tying up wedding cake
in boxes, and he became convinced
that weddings, on the whole, were not
such a bore when he saw the ubiqui-
tous best man peer into the half light
of the veranda and retire precipi-
lately.
“There’s one thing I' forgot,” she
was saying, “each slip must 'be do
stroyed as it is drawn out, and only
the last one read.”
“Humph! Strict requirements,
these! It would give a fellow some
satisfaction perhaps to know whom
he had escaped.”
“Oh, but the charm won’t work un-
less you do! Promise now”—impcr~
atively.
And he promised. Then~—
“Q11, I say,” he cried, interrupting
her writing again: “You’ll put your
own name down, won’t you '3"
“Shall 1?” she queried, doubtfully.
"Well, rather.” And though the
light was dim she saw something in
his eyes that made her add hastily:
it‘ll crush
“Oh, very well, since it is by re-
quest.”
11 at t t c :1: t
On the eighth day thereafter she re-
ceived the following telegram:
~“Your name seventh. Has
worked?”
And it was not till their honeymoon
was at its zenith «that she told him
confidentially—amt each 'bit of card '
[1,616 had borne the same name, and
there had been no blank. ~F1'om the
Montreal Herald.
charm
' 4
thar’s big temptation for a.
’Seven Uses for 3 Lemon.
No family should 'be without lem-
ons. Their uses are almost too many
for enumeration,
The juice of a lemon, taken'in hot
water on awaking in the morning, is
an excellent liver corrective, and for
. stout women is better than any auti-
fat medicine ever invented.
Glycerine and lemon juice, half and
‘half, on a. bit of absorbent cotton is
But I can’t think :
the best thing in the world wherewith
to moisten the lips and tongue of a
fever—parched patient. ‘
A dash of lemon juice in plain wa-
ter is an excellent tooth wash. It not
only removes tartar, but sWeetens the
breath.
A teaspoonful of the juice in a small
cup of black coffee will almost cer-
tainly relieve a bilious headache.
The finest of manicure acids is made
by putting 'a teaspoonful of lemon
juice in a cupful of warm water. This
removes most stains from the fingers
and nails, and loosens the Cuticle more
satisfactorily than can. be done by the
use of a. sharp instrument.
Lemon juice and salt will remove
rust stains from linen without injury
to the fabric. Wet the stains with
the mixture and put the article in the
sun. Two or three applications may
be necessary if the stain is of long
standing, but the remedy never fai's.
For an excellent flavoring for cus-
tards, jellies. etc.. take a. quart glass
jar and put into it a pint of good pre-
serving brandy. _Into this put the
lemon rinds after squeezing them for
lemonade from time to time until the
jar is full, keeping it sealed except
when open for use, and you will have
a pure lemon extract, as good 01' better
than any which you can buy.
How to Take Care of Lamps.
The light of oil lamps is so much
softer and less injurious for the eyes,
than flickering gas. 01' even electricity.
that it really should be used instead
of these in all nurseries and children’s
rooms. and the only drawback about
lamps is that they require such care-
ful tending to keep them in a safe and
bright condition. But. 53i1en :1 e011-
scientious nurse, 01' a mistress who 1111-
dertakes their management. herself.
all will be well. One very necessary
thing in'lamps is that'ihc oil reser-
voir be kept, scrupulously clean inside:
no oil is so pure that it does not leave
a sediment, and, if this sediment be
allowed to accumulate. the succeeding:
oil fails to burn as brightly as it other»
wise would. Lamp reservoirs should
be washed out once a week with 110:
water and pearlash and be allowed to
thoroughly drain and dry before new
oil be added. The burner should also
be. frequently cleaned—once :1. day, in
fact——and every orifice should be thor-
oughly cleaned out; the wick should
be wiped at the top with a piece of
soft rag, to remove the charred edges.
and if the wick should be found to
burn rather cloudily, it may be neces-
sary to remove it the next. morning
and soak it for an hour 01' two.in vin-
egar and water. It s11ould\be quite
dry before being again placed in the
burner.
The Dignified “'oman.
The dignified woman never has any
complaint to make of familiarity on
the part of men with whom she comes
in contact either socially or in busi-
ness life. Her dignity is a shield
against insult and the brightest jewel
in her crown of womanly attributes.
The dignified woman of necessity
need not be so frigid in her dcnn-anor
as to be. repellan't. but she can iv:
possessed of a winsome swcet111 ss all
her own which is emphasized by the
quiet calm that is the outward evi-
dence of mental equipoisc. The flip-
pant badinage which so many women .
think attractive to the other sr-x fails
to win half the admiration that is :1(:- i
corded the quiet dignity of
who never allows herself ’to lapse into
any familiarity of Speech 01' action 011
the (no '
which a false construction might be,
to such an extent that a large price
placed. If nature has not endowed
woman with this cemmcndahle char-
acteristic it is well to set about its
cultivation at once, for it is a well
known fact that it is quite as easy to .
train a set of manners as a set of mor-
als, and as the attribute of dignity can
be classified under both headings it is
easily seen what rare advantages must
accrue to the woman who wins it for
her ow11.—Buffalo Inquirer.
“She is TMy Dictionary.”
The wife of the sculptor Flaxman
was greatly responsible for her hus-
band’s success. Sir. Joshua Reynolds.
c‘hanlcing to meet Flaxm'an soon after
his wedding, said to him that his mar-
riage was a mistake, since it would
ruin him as an artist. . On reaching
home Flaxman sat down by iris wife,
took her hand in his and said:
“Ann, I am ruined as an artist.”
“How so, John?” said she. “How
did it happen and who has done it?”
“It happened in- the cnurch and Ann
Denman has done \it.”
Then Ann declared that great he
should become, .and that no one should
say “Ann Denman ruined Fl'axman for
an artist.”
Their means were. small, but by
work and economy on the part of the
wife F'laxman at the end of five years
was able to go to Rome, Where he
studied for seven years. For thirty.
eight years Flaxman had in his wife
a. cheerful, wise and appreciative help-
er. He was himself a perfect child in
business matters, but be fully appre-
ciated ibis wife's cleverness, and im
questions‘ot ddfllculty'“ he.Would say:
“Ask Mrs. Flaxman—slhe is my dic-
tionary."—Chicazo Record.
ml
' Bostonese, you know,
"Carhsle Indian school
A NOBLE CHARITY.
Motors Who Attend to the Care of a Hons.
as Well as Nurse the Sick.
An order of sisters has been estab-
lished in New York, whose work in.-
presses one at first sight as being the
truest charity. It is called the Little
' Sisters of the Assumption, instituted
originally in England, and its object is
to care for the sick poor in their
homes. The sisters work not only as
nurses in the limited sense of the
word, devoting themselves exclusively
to the sick room, but more especially
looking after the care of the house
and the needs of the little children in
the case, for instance, when a mother
is obliged to star 5111 bed and leave
everytlhing to the working husband
and the three or four little ones who
may be about. The sisters go early in
the morning to such a home, and. after.
giving thesick one whatever care and
medicine she needs, they put the house
in order, wash and dress the children
if necessary, cook for them and for
the mother, stay as nurses through the
dav when they are needed, and be
fore they go they have the father’s
dinner or supper cooked and ready
for him, put the children to bed and
everything for the sick
the night. The
novices, besides being trained as
competent. home nurses, are thor-
oughly taught every detail of house-
work, and as their services are'free to
all who need them, they must be a real
blessing to the afllicted poor, for whom
sickness is a dreadful thing, not only
in itself, but even more, perhaps, on
account of the absolute neglect of the
necessary duties of decent living that
it generally involves. The Sisters are
supported by voluntary contributions,
and-these they are not permitted to
receive individually, but the offerings
must be presented at the convent as a
free gift. Many of those whom they
care for give whatever small sum
they are ableyto in gratitude for rtheir
services, but it is wholly unlooked for,
and is a matter always of their own
personal feeling of indebtedness. The
support of the order must depend
naturally on the charitably disposed
among those who are blessed with
this world’s goods, but undoubtedly
manv of these, to whom the care of
the sick poor has been a very real and
heartbreaking problem, are glad to en-
trust their means to these good Sis-
ters, who have solved it so \vcll.~*St.
Mary’s Hospital News.
arrange
mother during
“BILLY RAILROAD,” THE GOAT.
He Is Owned by 3 Railway and Is “'oi'th
Big Bioney.
The International and Great North-
ern Railroad of Texas has a trained
goat in its employ. The goat receives
no salary for his services, but he re-
ceives the best of treatment and seems
to fully appreciate the important po-
sition which he holds with the rail-
road corporation. This goat is used
to load slheep on cars, and is well
known to all the shippers along that;
He was raised in Mexi- ;
line of road.
co, near the town of Lampaz-os. on
the line of the Mexican National Rail-
road. To all appearances he was only '
an, ordinary goat and great was the
surprise of his owner when. about a
year ago, the goat, of his own free
will, paid a visit to the stock pens at
Lampazos, where a shipment of goats
was being loaded, and led a big flock
of stampcded animals back into the
pens and into the cars.
The value of this particular goat
was quickly recognized, and for sev-
eral months the .had regular
ment as leader in rounding 11p and
loading shipments of goats at Lam-
pazos and other places along the line:
of the Mexican National. He had the
Mexican name of “Guillermo Ferro-
carril,” which in English means
“Billy Railroad.” A few months ago
a large shipment of sheep was to be
made from Laredo, Texas. 011 the line
of the international and Great North-
ern road. “Billy Railroad” was sent
for, and he handled the big flock of
sheep better than a force of twenty
men could have done.
“Billy” has been ,cmployed at al
most every shipping place on the line
of the International and Great North-
ern road. and his value is appreciated
was offered for him by the Southern :
Pacific company. He is now owned
jointly by the Mexican National and
the International and Great Northern
roads—Chicagg Inter Ocean.
Speaking Boston Indian.
Evidently she was from Boston. for
know all about
the Indian question. She was wit-
nessing the Indian sham battle at the ‘
exposition grounds and was deeply- -in-
terested in L0 and his ma'nne1 of.
fighting. After the battle she ap-
proached one of the noble Sioux and
made an effort to engage him in co.—
versation.
“Heap much fight,” said the dear-
creature in that choice language that
all good Indians are supposed to un-
derstand.
Lo gazed at the dainty maiden from
Beantown and answered never a word.
“Heap great show," said the fair
maiden. “Injun heap fight. Bigpow-
wow, hugh!”
Lo smiled a stoical smile, drew his
blanket closer about his stalwart form
and replied: ‘
“Yes; this is indeed a great exposi-
tion, and we flatter ourselves that our .
portion of the entertainment is by no
means the least attraction here. May
I ask who it is ’that I have the honor
of addressing?”
The dear girl from Boston was than. '
dcrstruck. She blushed a rosy 1ed-
even Boston girls can blush when they
thaw out—and hastily fled.
She had been addressing one of the
graduates.—
Omathorld'Herald.
employ- ’
Care of Chickens in Cold Weather.
Kerosene is the cheapest of all in-
secticides. Therefore, don't be afraid
to use it liberally on the henroosts 10
prevent lice. Apply during the winter
for lice do damage even in cold weath-
er. As the weather grows colder and
the hens have to be confined, it is ad-
visable to place a rusty nail in their
water. Cormneal mush is a most ex-
cellent fattener, and especially if fed
warm. In-case it. takes away the
fowl’s appetite feed some fruit and
vegetables, such as apples and cab-
bage. These will not cause any less
of the fattening foods. Construct nests
so that hens must get down into them
if you don’t want them to eat their
eggs.
eggs unless she can get to them con-
veniently, and generally she requires
lots of room for this purpose. If you
cannot obtain meat for your fowls
buy them some cottonseed meal. Feed
it daily in proportion of one pint to a
mess of soft food sufficient for ,200
hens. Milk also is an excellent ”sub-
stitu'te for meat, being preferred by,
some poultry keepers to anything else
mentionable. No matter how well bal-
anced it may be, endeavor as much as
possible to give your hens a change
of ration. Be sure to provide a scratch-
ing piace.. Cover the floor with fine
dry leaves or chaff to the depth of not
less than a foot. Among this scatter
daily a handful of wheat (millet seeds
are preferred if obtainable), and let
the fowls scratch for it. The fact is,
the more they are induced to scr'atch
the better they will look, the happie.
they will be, and the more eggs thev
will lay. Do not forget to examine
your hen house and see if it is in good
condition. If there are any cracks stop
them at once, for to have wind and
rain thus get in is frequently the cause
of roup. Also clean out the hen house
at least once a week, and sprinkle the
floor and roasts with crude carbolic
acid, and every fortnight put a few
drops in the drinking water. See that
the drinking water is kept fresh at all
times, and when the weather is quite
cold never fail to warm it.—Troy
Times.
Storing Boots for lVintur.
Roots intended for stock ferd.
whether beets, turnips, potatoes or
artichoke-s, should be stored closa to
the feeding place. A barn collar is
undoubtedly the best for this, and if
it is a. basement barn so much the bet-
ter, as the feed will then be on a
._ level with the animals, thus requiring
a minimum amount of work in feed-
ing. If stored so that the ventilation
is good and frost cannot reach the
bins, the roots will keep from late
iautumn until grass comes in sprng.
ifurnishing throughout the wjn‘z'cr
months ”the succulent feed nec;ssary
to secure best results with dairy
Icows, sheep and hogs.
} The chief point to observe is to pro-
vide as nearly perfect ventilation as
possible. There is much more danger
from heat than from cold. After de-
,ciding as to the location of the root
=bin-s, build them so that the bottoms
‘will be at least six inches from the
floor and the sides the same dis stance
from the 11 ails of the cellar. 1f the
[bin is a large one. provide partitions
! every six or eight feet. Keep the win-
dows and doors of the basement open
until there is danger from freezing.
if a warm day. or_seve1'al of them.
should occur. close the windows and
doors during the daytime and open
them at night. The roots are thus
'kvept cool and in good condition.—
American Agriculturist.
IVintering Celery Outdoors.
A 11111111 says : Last autumn I de-
cided on winte1ing my celeiy in the
.' garden as here in Essex 00., Ontario,
. Canada, we have usually mild winters,
so instead of lifting it and~putting it
in the cellar in the usual way, and by
which a year ago, owing to the warm
weather up to Christmas, ‘I lost a
large amount, I continued adding a
little more earth to the rows as the
nights became frosty, eventually-cov-
ering it entirely over. Then as the
frost increased I put on- a layer of
coarse litter from the manure heap.
which drew out the frost of perhaps
one inch which crusted the earth over
the rows. From time to time I added
more as I thought it was needed. The
. manure heap being close to the celery
bed a few minutes only was needed at
any one time to do the work, and there
‘, has not been a time during the winter
:but with a fork and spade in a few
minutes I could take out f01 in1medi~
ate use what was required. It has
{ matured g1 andlv developing that
melting crispness and nutty flavor so
much desired and sought after, some
times in vain, in our winter celerv.
' and today, F.eb 14,1113 fresh as in au-
_ tumn, and I have not lost a single root.
The labor has been a. mere trifle com-
1 pared With the old method of digging
and cellaring.
For Budding Horns.
By the use of a stick of caustic pot-
ash incis'tened and rubbed around the
base of the budding horns on a calf
when it is about a month old, the
growth can be stopped, and if prop—
erly done, taking care not to touch the
flesh with the potash, the Operation
5 will be painless. ' If the potash does
, touch it will cause but a slight burn,
not a severe one. But until-this is
generally done, there will be use for
the dehorning instruments, and where
f many cattle run together it is cruel ,
.not to use them.
A hen rarely attempts to eat.
fill? Ell.
1'1-1 E 3551'
WASH l N G POW D
N ORWALK BUSINESS DIRECTORY.
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um" NO OUTSTANDING CLAIMS
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d. Wise Keep a
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ii. gain 3t Fire. ___
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