T H E 1:?- v " EN].
A PHILOSOPHER.
In winter time he’s happy
When he's pelted by the snows:
In summer time he’s singing
I he gathers one sweet rose:
And earth seems ever better
For the happy way he goes.
If dark the tempest’s frowning
And no stars are in the night,
He thanks God for a shelter,
And sleeps and dreams of light.
And somehow earth is brighter,
For he ever makes it bright.
And so, in joy and sorrow,
He walks his earthly way,
-And thanks God for to-morrow,
'» And does his will to-day.
And somehow Earth is brighter
For that lesson—love—obey!
-—At'lanta. Constitution.
A 1111111 GAZE.
A few years after the close of the
war I was one of a party of‘men from
my town of Harrison and the adjoin-
ing town of Bnidgton who went to
Gambria county, Pennsylvania, and
worked in the woods for the late Hon
oraible Abraham A. Barker, 11 cong1ess4
man from the Keystone state. ,Our
camp was in a large tract of pine
woods where settlers and squatters
were few and far between.
An old hunter, Galvin Trott, whose
acquaintance I made, speaking of the
wild beasts indigenious to that region,
instanced the catalmount. otherwise
known as the North America tiger, as
the kind most to be feared, albeit it
was rarely seen in those parts.
He said that a catamount’s usual
trick was to watch for his prey from
ambush. up in a tree, and when the
intended victim was suffic1en11v near.
lea-p down upon it, fasten his teeth in
the neck, cutting the jugular vein.
and causing speedy death. But some
times this terror of the forest would
be encountered on the ground; in
which. event. if one was unarmed. the
only hope of escape layin quietly fac-
ing the animal, catching its eye be-
fore it made a spring, and litieally
looking it out of countenance.
I little thought that I was to be af-
forded occasion to try what seemed to
me a very doubtful expedient, to say
the least.
Myjob was ox-teaming, and my
route was a logging road, of. a decid—
edly primative kind—simplygi wide
pathway cut through unbroken woods.
too rough for ca1ri1age use, but an-
swering for logging purposes.
It was a bright day in early autumn.
and I was returning to camp. I had
halted the oxen to give th-ema short
rest, had s-a-untered some rods ahead
of them. intending when they had suf-
ficiently rested to order them to ad-
vance—a man-date they were sure to
obey. All at once, from behind a pine
shrub beside the road. not over six
paces fro-m me. appeared the form of
a huge animal of the cat species,
which I knew only too well was the
terrible catamountl
The animal at once crouched down
close to the earth, his face towards me,
while his tail begun that peculiar gen
tle twitching movement which with
the cat kind forebodes mischief.
That I. like grandfather’s clock,
stopped short, goes without saying.
To turn and run was my first impulse.
but I well knew this would be a fatal
move. I was unarmed. and to advance
would only serve to abridge my prob-
ably few moments of existence.
What the hunter, Trott. had told me
flashed SiCI'OSS my memory, and I re-
solved 1to try the life-or-death experi-
ment.
Now I had known what it was to
face hostile cannon and rifles, but in
the excitement of battle one in a
measure loses his consciousness of
danger, and besides. a battle is a lot-
tery in which the number are not all
blanks, but in this case. alone
and unarmed as I was. and in the
heart of a great forest, far from hu‘
man help, to stand and face at close
‘ange a pair of eyes which represent-
(1 what was more deadly than gun-
uzzles, was the most appalling posi-
ion I was evci in. I hemmed from
1ead to foot, and I could feel the cold
wont start fiom my for:.ehe1d but I
neived m1 self to. the task, .11 d at
11cc. with head slightly advanced, fix-
d 'my eyes directly on those of the
.atamount, which evidently wasrcady
,or the fateful leap.
How long I thus stood I cannot say.
t iiziglit have been five minutes. it
iight have been ten minutes. but to
e it seemed at least half an hour. It
vas a dramatic tableau in real life——
ve two thus posed. his eyes riveted
n mine, my eyes riveted on l1is,>neith-
r of us for an instant removing our
aze. Events in my past life. and
oughts of the dear
born I might never see again swept
rough my brain in quick succeSsion,
ut the central idea that it was a game
r life, with the. odds tremendously
_ainst me, held me straight to the
we, and I faltered not.
And I was destined to win!
Presently the catamount rose to his
11 height, gave a low, disgruntled
owl, as be, for the first time. avert-
his head, then slowly walked 0.
a right angle, into the woods.
remained motionless except keep-
g my face turned towards my re-
ealting foe. At the edge of the
icket be halted and gave me what
“oved to be the last look: seeing my
me still upon him, he gave a sec‘
11 snarl. and disappeared in the for-
t.
Yes, thank God! I was saved.
1 silently returned to my team, and
noiselessly as possible resumed my
may, which ended without further
cidcnt.—-Exchangc.
‘ally—NO“. that you have partaken
a good dinner, are you equal to the
k of sawing some wood?
l'irei Tim—Madam, equal is not the .
1"»‘l' woxd, I'm superior to it.
'viewed.
ones at home,
' . 4‘
OUR YOUTHS’COLUMN.
Benjamin “rest, the Artist.
He has made a likeness of little
Sally! exclaimed his. astonished and
delighted mother, and she kissed him
with‘ much fondness and Satisfaction
“My mother’s kiss,” he said, after
wards, “made me a paintei. ” And, in-
deed, he immediately proceeded to say
on the spot, that he believed he could
make a picture of the flowers she had
in her’ hand.
Kittie Benjamin West, son of Quakei
WeSt, was only six years old when this
incident occurred. He had done
nothing" to indicate the bent of his
genius until that day in June, when
one of his sisters, who had married
and had a little daughter, came with
her infant child to pass some‘days at
her father’s. While the mother and
daughter were gathering flowers in the
garden, Benjamin was left to guard the
sleeping infant in the cradle. The
child happened to smile, which charm
ed the boy. With the instinct of gen-
ius, the .lad, who, at this time, his
biographer declares, “had never seen
an engraving or a picture,” and 'cer-
tainly had never seen anyone use a
brush, seized a pen from the table,
and, with the red and black inks, en
aeavored to delineate a portrait.
And so this boy, who wanted four
' months of being seven years old—fox
he was born on the tenth of October,
1738, six years after Washington—
drew not only his first picture, but the
first he ever saw. When his mother
and his sister came in, he tried to con-
ceal his work; he was afraid they
would be angry, but the mother ex-
amined the picture attentively f01
some time, and then burst forth with
the exclamation that it was the picture
of the slumlbering babe, and lavished
kisses instead of frowns upon him.
Benjamin, at school, kept on draw-
ing with pen and ink; and the In-
dians, who at times came to the hos
pitable mansion, were amused by his
sketches of birds and flowers. They
taught him his first lesson in mixing
paints, giving him the yellow and red
ochers which they used; his brother
added a piece of indigo. The Indians;
taught him larchery, also. Needing
hair brushes, he seized upon puss again
and again, until his father thought the
cat’s dilapidated appearance was due
to disease.
A gentleman~Mn Pennington—visit-
ing his father, noticed the drawings
about the room. On his return to
Philadelphia, he sent to the boy of
eight 11. box of paints and pencils,
with pieces of. prepared canvas and
six beautiful engravings—the first pic-
tures he had ever seen but his own.
Next day, in the garret, from dawn to
noon, from noon till eve—school for
gotten, dinner swallowed in haste—
young Benjamin painted subjects from.
those engravings. The schoolmaster
sought the truant, and his garret-
studio was discovered, and his picture
That picture, which his
mother feared to have him spoil by
another touch, was seen by'West in
the same room sixty-seven years later,
side by side with his sublime painting,
“Christ Rejected." He then declared
that there were inventive touchs in his
juvenile essay which, with all his ac-
quired knowledge and experience, he.
had never surpassed.
‘ Such is the boyhood story of Ben-
jamin West, one of America’s earliest
and one of the world’s greatest paint-
ers, whose name is celebrated wher-
ever art is esteemed.
- A, B, C’s in China.
It is not improbable that of all their
studies, the almond eyed youngste1s of
China find uniting the most enjoyable.
They use a small brush instead of a
pen, and dau-b on the ink with a lavish-
ness dear to the juvenile heart. They
write one letter over another till the
page is as black as a cooking stove.
and the copybooks become so wet that
it is necessaiy to hang them over the
fence to d1 y .
Theie me no public schools in China,
or, indeed, school houses of any kind.
But the boys and girls of the flowery
land repair to the houses of their
teachers to pursue their studies. They
do not sit upon the floor, as is com-
monly supposed, for although they
have no school furniture, such as is
used in this country, they are provid-
ed with common chairs, upon which
they sit while studying. During reci
tations they stand around their teach-
er. . ‘ . 1
Long before reaching the school
room, visitors may hear the pupils vo-
ciferously shouting their lessons and
making :1 din which is,‘ to say the
least, confusion to one unaccustomed
to this method of study. But when one
realizes what an arduous task it isto
learn one’s A, B. 0’s in China, it is
no longer a matter of surprise that
study-ing aloud is permitted. Think of
committing to memory'214elementary
characters! (These characters take the
place of our alpha-bet, for the Chinese
language has no alphabet like ours.)
That is what the Chinese boys and
girls must do; and that is only the be-
ginning of trouble, for these characte1s
are grouped together to form words,
of which there are more than 50,000
in the Mongolian language. More-
over, some of these words have forty
different meanings, the significance of
a word varying with its inflection. An-
other peculiarity of the Chinese writ
ten language is that the beginning of
the book corresponds to the end of one
of ours, so that the pupil appears to
us to begin at the end of the last line
on the last page, and to, be reading
backward—St. Louis Globe Democrat.
Moth eta—Johnny,
dreadful ,lau‘guagej
Johnny—Well, mother,
uses it.
“Then don’t play with him; hes no
fit companion for yOU.”—London Tit-
stop using such
Shakespeare
'i'HEY WERE GENEROUS BANDITS.
'I’aid Ofl’ a. Mortgage and Then Robbed the
Sheriff.
Those_who are conversant with the
ways of the Southern people are aware
that at the ,close ofth'e War it was a
frequent occurance for “01’ massa” to
leave a little plot of ground to his
slaves who had served him faithfully,
or in some other way provide for their
future. This was the case with Aunt
Jennie Harris, who was" left, by the
will of her old master, quite a com-
fortable home in Missouri, between
Harrisonville and Pleasant Hill. But
‘with the usual negro prodigality,
which could never realize-that an end
might come to their fortune, Aunt
Jennie placed a mortgage on her home
for $1, 400; Time passed and the very
day when the mortgage fell due came
around and there was no provision for
paying it off. Notice had been receiv-
ed that the sheriff would call that day
at 3,1 o’clock and if the money was not
forthcoming the mortgage would be
foreclosed and the piece of ground
taken away from her. So that morn-
ing she’ sent her two sons into
town to see if they could raiSe the
amount by a second mortgage. ‘This
was in the fall of 1878.
While they were absent two men
' rode up and asked for a drink. The
old auntie waited on them, and while
doing so told her trials and tribula-
tions, not pausing until they were in
possession of every fact of the case.
The two men appeared interested
in her story and alighting from their
horses-asked if she could get them
some dinner. With the hospitality
born in the colored race of the old
regime she hastened to kill and fry a
chicken, bake some sweet potatoes and
mix up a corn pone.
“What’s yo’ bus’ness?” inquired the
old colored woman, with easy famil-
iarity.
“Oh, we are cattle buyers. Riding
around the country buying up cattle.”
“Wha’ yo’ b’on?” was the next ques-
tion.
,“In Scott county, Kentucky.”
“Fo’ de Lawd! Dat wha’ I cum
frum.” and auntie redoubled her en-
ergy in getting up a delecatable dinner,
during which she explained again and
again. with many a 'moan, that the
sherifi was to be there at 3 o’clock
that afternoon to forclose the mort-
gage if she did not have the money to
“lift” it, and her doubts of her boys’
ability to raise the money in town.
It was an excellent dinner just such
a one as none but a Southern house
servant can get up, and when it was
eaten one of the men asked:
“How much is the dinner worth?”
“Fo’ de Lawdl” auntie replied, “yo’
don’t suppose one Kaintuckian want
to charge another fo’ 3. dinnah?”
“Well, I’ll tell you how much .we con-
sider it worth. Just $700 apiece.” And
counting out the ‘money they each
handed her $700.
Then followed one of those scenes
never witnessed probably except when
an old slave is the chief actor. The
old woman never doubted the sin-
ceritv of the men. She fell on her
knees and prayed, shouted, “hallelu-
53.11” and called dowu all manner of
blessings on them.
“Is yo’ angel?” she asked.
“No,” one of them replied. “We are
flesh and blood. You say the sheriff
is to be here at 3 o’clock?”_
“Yes. massa.”
“And will come
there?”
“Yes. massa.’
“Well, you make him sign your pa-
pers all right and give you a receipt
before you count. out to him the
money.”
The old negress promised faithfully
that she would and the two men rode
awav. "
At 3 o’clock the sheriff called and
when he learned that the money was
ready for him released the mortgage,
took the money and started home.
Half a mile from the cabin as be
down that road
was passing through a strip of woods
two men—the cattle buyers—stepped
out and relieved him of the $1,400.—
Chicago Inter Ocean.
llIodern Tea Drinking.
Tea drinking has become very
fashionable among us of late years.
almost as much so as it was in Eng-
land a century ago: but the prevailing
customs at the table are different. The
“teacup times of hood and hoop" had
their own etiquette. of a sort not like-
ly to be revived. What should we
think now of a fashionable lady who
cooled her tea with her breath? 1
Certain [other customs may be re-
membered in this country among us
who had grandmothers trained in the
ceremonies of a later day. One of
them consisted in putting the spoon
in the cup to show that no more tea
was desired; another was that of turn-
ing over the cup in the saucer for the
same purpose.
Etiquette also demanded that the
tea should be tested from the spoon,
and that the hostess should then in-
quire, “Is your tea agreeable?" Cer-
tain scrupulous old ladies ask that
now, and the question savors of a more
sedate and gentle day than this.—
Philadelphia Ledger.
An Old 011 Clock.
An interesting specimen of the. old
oil clock used in the seventeenth cen-
tury was shown at a clock exhibition
in Berlin. This particular clock con-
sists of a tube of glass in-the outer
receiving frame, on which the hours
from eight in the morning until six in
the evening are indicated. The glass
tube is filled with oil, and the Wick
in the receptacle consumes each hour
just a certain portion of it. which,can
be seen by the numbers on the outer
frame, and the time of day according-
ly. Of course; this. oil clock never had
a reputation 1’11? accuracy, but in those
days there acme no trains or steam-
ships doctrine that time is
money '1‘ -' 5 ' “can prupmmded.
prints to Home Cheese Makers.
A person who is a good butter make)
and used to'handling milk, will usually
have the best success in amateui
cheese making. In the first place, a
proper heating apparatus should be
. employed. One" of the most common
and yet serious mistakes of an amatem
is to employ in cheese making mills
that is too sweet. To insure success
the milk should be ripe, that is, in the
summer it should' be kept in a cool
atmosphere until 12 hours old, and it:
the spring and fall, 24 hours. It is
often more convenient to ripen the
milk quickly, which may be done by
using'a “starter,” adding to it a small
quantity of overripe milk. This start.
or, however, should never be so sou:
as to the loppered.
Do not try to prepare your own ren-
net. Buy a reliable brand of extract,
or rennet tablets, and you will always
know its strength. Do not use you1
finger for a thermometer, as experi-
ence never makes it as reliable as mer‘
cury. Be thorough in all detail work,
just as makers in the big factories
have to be. Do not apply rennet when
the temperature of the milk is upder
84 degrees, and keep it at that heat by
covering your little vat until the co-
agulated mass is ready to cut up. Do
not scald the curd above 100 degrees
if you can‘help it. If you do, the life
of the rennet is injured, which is need-
ed later on to properly cure the cheese.
Remember that initial milk maturity .
hastens the cooking process of the curd .
at .3’ lower temperature than would
otherwise have to be employed, and at
the same time insures a better and-
tirmer quality for the accruing cheese.
Through the whole process of home
cheese making, extra 'care must be
taken on account of the small quantity
of material involved to keep the curd
warm. In summer it should go into
the hoop .to be pressed at a tempera-
ture of 70 degrees, while in spring and
fall 75 degrees is better. Guard
against the other extreme, for too hot
curd pressed will result in off flavored
cheese. Use a fine soluble salt such
as you employ for butter, and if.you
desire colored cheese, a reliable brand
of buter color is none too good. Ma-
ture your curd enough so that it will
result in a firm, close grained cheese
afte1 curing.
Generally in the spring a slight show
of acid, 1-8 to 1— 4 inch str_ings by the
hot iron, is sufficient, while in summer
12 inch is better. TeSt every point as
you go along, and let nothing go bv
chance. That is the way the factory
makers do, and it is the main reason
why they turn out even quality, high
grade stock. Last but not least, do not
skim the milk but make full cream
cheese and you will be amply repaid
for its superior quality. -—G.eo ‘.E New-
011,,1n Agiiculturist.
‘Dehorning Justified by Experience.
All evidence goes to show that de-
horning subdues the animal, removes
all restless or turbulent disposition
and replaces 'viciousness with doci‘lity
This is most pronounced in case of
bulls. A marked» difference is noticed
in the entire herd. Instead of
chasing, goring and .butting, the uni
mals walk along quietly in a body, like
a fleck of sheep, and have no more de-
sire to molest than they have to be me-
lested. This is of especial value when
passing through lanes and gates where,
with horned cattle, much injury is
likely to be done. At the watering
trough, instead of one or two standing
guard and preventing the approach of
the weaker cattle, all crowd in to-
gether and proceed at once to satisfy
their‘thirst. As many as 18 dehorned
animals have been seen to drink from
a trough 7 feet in diameter. It would
be dangerous for half a dozen to do so
(if they had horns. Such altered con-
ditions are advantageous alike in
dairying and in fattening stock, the
sense of quiet and security enabling
the animals to better assimilate their
food and thus give a larger and richer
yield of milk as well as show mow
rapid improvement in laying on flesh—-
H. D. Hemenway in Agriculturist.
\Vinter Protection for Grapevines.
If the vines are trained to stakes,
simply cut the strings which act as
supports and allow the vines to fall to
the ground at the base of the stake.
Press down and hold in place by
throwing a few spadefuis of soil upon
the vines. No other covering is neces-
sary. Do not put on too much earth.
as this will tend to. make the vines
tender. Let them remain on the
ground until all danger from frost is
past, then place a fork under the vines
and shake them free of soil. Vines 011
trellises are treated in the same man-
ner. It is usually advisable to prune
before putting down, as there is then
a smaller amount to be cove-red.
Pruning Largo Limbs,
All pruning ought of course to be
done irhen the limbs: are small. But
circumstances often necessitate the
taking off of large limbs that may long
have been overlooked. or may perhaps
have died. It is a mistake to saw off
such branches close to the trunk. The
wood soon cracks, evean {severed wul:
a coat of paint, the water gets in and
a decayed tlunk soon results. Cut 011‘.
the limbs four
trunk, sawing from four sides to a
raised point at the center, as shown
In the cut. This projection is not
handsome, but it will never crack
~-.-— 3
open far enough to admit water to the 1
inches at least from the ‘
L.
7‘
The sudden Epidemic of Grip has startled the coun-
try.
The doctors .confess they have no sure Cure~for
for it, and this is seen to be true in the sudden death
of- Garcia and Ex-Senator Brice and the alarming 1n-
crease In the death rate.
Brazilian Balm.
No fatal disease of Grip Was ever known Where
BRAZILIAN BALI was promptly used-
It hits the germs, arrests the progress of the disease at
once, and, takes all the evil effects out of the system.
Colds, Grip, Influenza,
Old Coughs, Asthm
'Gatarrh, Pleurisv, Bronchiti .
IT IS A‘ PERFECT REMEDY.
\AAAW
For Sale by
EDWARD P. WEED, Wall Street.
P. AW.- BATES’
42 rpm 511111,
You can find as fine an assortment of
11111111116111er W111
As can be found 111 any Yard" 1n the
State. Look it over and get
prices before going elsewhere
" "O. Wilson,
GENERAL INSURANCE
Real Estate and Invest-
. ment Agent, . .
Room 3 GAZETTE BUILDING.
NORWALK, - '- - CONN
’ MONEY TO LOAN
W. FERNALD,
Practical
Bookbinder
Books Called For and
’ . Deliver-eds,
Po”stal cider; PromptI-y
Attended to.‘ '
32 FRANKLIN STREET,
SOUTH NORWALK.
Orders for Bookbinding can oe 1e
at. the GAZETTE, OFFICE.
W
MEEKEll 129M. ill}?
' mDEALEBS‘ IN—
GOAL, W000, BBIGK, BUILDING
MATERIAL, -:- FABMIIIG'
,ursnslts, 1 m. -‘ _
111111111 eou‘. 0011111111
Smith Street. Norwalk. '
is. m. and7.1.5p m.
Piano Lessons.
MR3. GEORGE W. BRADLEY, (daughter
of the late Wm. B. Nash), gives efiicient
and satisfactory instructions 9n the Piano at
her home. 193 Main street.
PLYMOUTH ROCK ICE
811110111 PllllEl
Stores and families supplied. Lowe
’ rates.
ELLS 81 00., l I North Ave.
Norwalk.
NEWYIOIII‘E,D ,NEwaAVEN a HARTFORD
—an D1031: Drvrsror
DECEMBER 4,1898.
Trains leave South Norwalk as follows
FOR NEW YORK— Accommodatibn
trainsat 9. 36, 11:403.. m., 1.11, 3.04, 4.07,
5. 33, 6. 41, 8, 11,10. 20 p. m. Express trains
at 4. 55, 5. 45, 6.15, (local). 6.55, (local);
7.13, (local), 7. 54, (local), 8.16, 9.03 (100
9.58,10.35, 11.35. (local) a. m. 2.27;
2. 25, 5.10 5.55, 7.55 p. m. For Wash2ing-
ton via Harlem River 12. 53 a. :11. (daily)
SUNDAYS—Accommodation 9. 053.. m.
5.35, (local), 7. 20, (local)10. 10 p. 111. E2
press 4.55, 5.45 a..m
FOR NEW HAVEN AND THE EAST-
Accommodation trains at 6. 28, 7. 42,
8. 46 and 11.4221. m., 1.12, 2.42, (to Bp’t‘,)
4.,18 527, 6.,27 7.28 (to B’pt), 9.15
and 11.15 p. m. Express trains at 1. 11
1.20 9.,11 10.05,11.08 a. m.,12.,02 3.05
5. 04 (N augatuck Express) 7. 05, 9. 05 «
P-m
SUNDAYS-Accommodation 7.42, 9.12
Express J 11 and
1.20 3.111
C T. HEMPSTEAD, Gen. Pass. Agent.
News and Opinions
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The Sunday . SUN
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Price 51: a copy. By mail $2 a yet
Address Tan SUN, New York
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. . ' ‘3
Norwalk Chronicler