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About The Corvallis gazette. (Corvallis, Or.) 1862-1899 | View Entire Issue (Oct. 16, 1885)
A WOMAN'S QUESTION. MRS. MIOWXIXG. Os you knorr that you have asked for the eostliest thing Ever made by the Hand above ,4. woman's heart and a woman's life And a woman's wonderful love; Do you know jou have asked for this rjrice less thin'! As a child niiht ask for a toy, Demanding what others have dlea to win. With the leeklcss dash ot a boy! Tou have written my lesson of duty out, Manlike you have questioned me; 556w stand at .the bar o.r my woman's soul Until I shall question thee. Tou require your mutton shall always be hot, Tour socks and your shirts shall be whole ; I require your heart to be true as God's stars' And pure as heaven your soul. Yau require a cook for your mutton and beef; 1 require a far better thing; A seauutriss you're wanting for stockings u l.shirts I look fo:- a man and a king. A king for a beautiful realm called homo And a man that the maker, God, Shall look upoa as He did the first And say, -'Itisvery good." I am fair and young, but the rose will fade From my soft young cheek some day; XeVl you lov me then, 'mid the falling leaves, As you did 'mid the bloom of May ! Is your hejrt an ocean so strong and deep I may launch my all on its t;da i A loving woman finds heaven or hell On the day she is ma le a bride. T require all things that are grand aud true, All things that a man should be: If vou give this all I would stake my life To be all you demand of me. Iyou ca::n it b this, a laundress and cook You can hire with little to pay; But a woman's heart and a woman's life Arc not to be won that way. Till: TWO nVSTIIKIKS. HAXI MAPES DODGE. We know not what it is, dear, this sleep so deep and still ; The folded hands, the awful calm, the check so pale and chill; The H, s that will not lift again, that we may call and call; Tire strange white solitude of peace that set tles over all. We know not what it means, dear, this des olate heart-;aiu. The dread to taKe otlr ffkily way and walk in it a?ain ; We know not to what sphere the loved who leave us go, Sar why we're left to wonder still, nor why we do not know ; Bat this we know : our loved and lost, it ther ein ,.uJU come this day Hioul 1 come and ask us, '-What is life!" no one of us could say. life is a mystery, as deep as ever death can be; flf-Y?.,V ' Tet, oh ! how sweet ft is to its, this life we live and see '. Tli fa njiit.issv.fay,- these vanquished ones end blessed is the thought Siya death is sweet to us. beloved, though we may tell you naught ; We may not tell it to the quick, this mystery ' of death; Te may not tell us, if ye would, the mystery of breath." The child who enters life comes not with knowledge or intent, So those who enter death must go as little children sent ; Nothing is known. But I believe that God is overhead, And astXe is to the living, so death is to the dead. - Why I Couldn't Sing. BY GEO. F. HALL. ft was a beautiful Sunday morning ft May. The birds chirped gaily in the treetops, bow rally leaved: the 'flowers in the garden and on the lawn were rich with delicious perfume; and everybody and everything seemed blessed with a kind of heavenly sweet ness. I ;had only recently come to the 'city in which occurred the event I am about to descr.be, the greatest event 'f rf life. I'll tell you briefly: fc'resii from college I had plunged i into business with great zeal and was succeeding finely. I lived with an i ancle John and his excellent family, in tee of-the most delightful suburbs of the city.' The home was a most ?lcasant one, and so all went smooth y enough till cousin Violet induced me to go to church with her for the first time ;I mean the first t:me since -f bad been in the city! Before becom ing so absorbed in entering business 1 'aa.il been a constant church-goer, and went too, as all college boys do, with a piiiTSosef;?). "While in sc hool I had leaned some-credit as a singer and had 'na-ssed it" two years in our chapel xho r. Knowing this, cousin VioletC a splend d contralto by the way, deter m ned tjiat I should sing in her choir. We were just entering the grand old shtrrcn that uncle's people nad long attended, when -Violet first mentioned the astounding fact that she haddeter- mined to make my first appearance at church as remarkable as possible, and completely bew4d.ered.rae by speaking bo the usher as follows: "Sat ns with' the efioir, please," and he boldly' 'stepped ahead, with a . gt snos telling1 me to follow. What cor'I do? In vain d'd I re- ai ons irate by wild glances an 1 hurried whisperings the l.ttle hoax led me stra-gSt down the long aisle, an i r:ght ap to the awful, majestic, sacred look ing ckoir. I thought I should faint aei'er before jyas I so completely taken. ButT could onl. make the best of it, and so with a satisfied a'r, but venge ful look at my smiling cousin, I calmly of k my place. ... . I was twenty-three and in all my roars had not met the girl' whom I deemed worthy of any serious attest '-on n My part. In fact 1 was called Sceptical -as regarded the worth of the opposite sex, regarded women as handy creatures about the house, as a mother, or s:ster: but the thought of "loving" and "wedding" never entered my mind. But it is 1 ttle we know to day what our minds will be to-morrow. " and it is not infrequent that these cool headed people (1 pride myself as one of the coolest) are the more often changed. Yes, "wise men change their minds most often." In a few moments the organist be gan, and soon the r ch, deep tones of the great organ caused me to forget my embarrassment. The first hymn was announced, and the choir arose. Although unfamiliar with the mus'c, I sang with perfect ease, and saw that I was really attracting attention. In all that vast aud:ence not one disapprov ing face did I see as I poured forth the best bass I could command. The minister proceeded to read from the Holy Scriptures, while I began a survey of his auditors. With calm in difference 1 adm'red the intelligent faces before me and was proud that I could maintain my composure, before such an assembly, and under such cir cumstances. The good people listened intently, devoutly trying to catch every word as it dropped from their pastor's lips. Everybody seemed most deeply interested no! There was a young lady who was not! She sat near the center of the congregation, and Oh, my stars! she was looking my way! A blonde, about twenty-one I judged, and very beautiful. My face! Was I blushing? If so it was the first time in my 1 fe. But she blushed; her eyes dropped for a moment, and then looked at me again. Oh, such eyes! I sat spell-bound till the choir arose to render the anthem, and. horrors! I had to look over my neighbor's shoul der to get the page, and then awk wardly fumble my leaves, finding the place uist in t me to come in on the last str&'n of the first part. Where was my voice! And how I trembled! What could have been the matter with rue? Well, the anthem was finished, and I had certainly lost my credit, for I did sing shamefully. But those blue eyes in the center of the auditorium were upon me, and I couldn't s'ng. The minister went on with his ser mon, but for mv life I d d not know what he was ta'king about, and fear, I cared less. The same with that little blue-eyed lady she couldn't keep her eyes on the preacher at all, and what was she to me that I should watch her so close ly? But there was a queer feeling in my breast I determine! to meet that girl- And so I "made eyes" at her rnd she "made eyes" at me till the last word of the bened'etion. When we had left the church, Violet presented me to many of herfr'ends as we pas-ed through the vestibule, but not one could I have recognized two nrnutas afterwards, so far in another direction was my mind, I turnel upon her some what indignantly "Vi, what evil demon possessed you to play such a game on me?" "Why, Charley, how do you like Miss Mansfield?" "You are eluding mv question, but who is Miss Mansfield?" said I. "She is a beautiful blue-eyed blonde that sat near the center of the church, and who couidn't tell for a seal skin what was the preacher's text. Yes, the same that completely absorbed the attention of the new member of our choir to da', and made him sing the second verse of the last hymn while neighbors were singing the third. Ah, cousin, you did finely to-day!" "Vi, I don't understand you. You are talking in riddles," said I. "Poor fellow, you are to be pitied for your thick-headedness," said Vio let, with twinkling eyes. I said no more, but walke i on thoughtfully. Desp'te my best efforts I coul 1 not drive those delicious blue eye-; from my mind's vision, and sonie how 1 fe t that Providence had a hand in th:s business, and I began to change by views of life entirely; and yet I had not met her. The next day I was rushed in busi ness as usual, but to the great amaze ment of the clerks I gave many dis cordant orders, more mischief caused by blue eyes. Hurrying across the street late in the afternoon I was startled by cries of "Ruuaway! runaway." Glancing up the street which led from Parts Drive. I saw a magnificent span of blacks dashing at break-neck speed, the line dangling on the ground; and something in the screams of the occupants of the carriage nerved me to save them, when on most occa s ons of this kind I wouli have been the tir.-t to clear the track, and let folks attend to their own runaways. Summoning all my courage I pushed through the scampering crowd and sprang for the bits of the runaways as they came tearing along, caught them, and by a most desperat" struggling, in which 1 was dragged a long way and severely bruished. stopped the team. Just then the careless coachman came panting to their charge "Sure, sah, I beg de pah don ob yer, boss, but de onery fools lit out double quick down dar, while l'sgibben some pennies to a poor beggar passm by. sah. I do, sah, beg pahdon, sah, and Hebben hang dat beggar." -f course as soon as the carriage stopped its occupants were not long in alighting, and whom should they be but my blue-eyed Miss Mansfield, and her mother! Before I could speak she rushed to me and took my hand "Oh, Mr. Allerton, we cannot thank you enough for this! You have saved our lives. Pardon me, sir, but I can not forbear an expression of my grati tude to you, and hence take your hand." Then Mrs. Mansfield, a kind-looking noble old lady, pressed my hand also, and I coul t not but blush in trying to excuse myselc and in ask'ng them to regar 1 it simply as an act that any gentleman wou'd have done. "But. Mr. Allerton, you are hurt. Oh, dear! Jeff assist the gentleman into the carriage, quickly, sir. Come That's all I heard her say. I- stum bled and fell unconsc ous to the ground. The struggle had greatly fatigued me, and besides one of the horses ha 1 truck me w.th his i.oof in mv e.iorts to check him. When I recovered from my stupor many hours later, 1 found myself in a large and elegan'; chamber in a strange house; a physician was bending over me, and at the foot of the couch stood tha' glor:ous blue-eyed girlM ss Mans field, her lovely face all earnestness. "Oh. Mr. Allerton. you wer badly hurt, but I hope you are feeling better. I'm so sorry " "Thank you, Miss Mansfield," said I. 'l am not scriousl f hurt, am 1, doctor?" "You will soon be all right, sir. if you keep quiet and cheerful," said the phys c an: and then lie bade me good day, and after holding a ser ous secret consultation with Miss Manslield. con cerning myself I supposed, w.thdrew. Then the blue-eyed little lady, whom, it appeared, had voluntarily made her self chief nurse, bathed my forehead, and arranged some flowers near me, all the time quietly and earnestly talking to me. I seemed enchanted, and for some time did not speak, but watch'ed her in thoughtful silence. At length I said: "Miss Mansfield, you have a pleasant home, and you have been very kind to me in caring for me durins those un conscious hours. How strange it all seems!" "it is you, sir, that has been kind. We owe our lives to you. What would papa say if he knew of our narrow es cape! Papa is in New York now, but will return soon. But. Oh. Mr. Aller ton. we can never thank you " "Pardon me, Miss Manslield," said I, "but how came you to know my name?" "I saw you at church 3'esterday, sir," she replied, blushing, "and I was so bold as to inquire of our pastor th's morn'ng who you were. You'll excuse me, sir, for being so prying, but but but how came you to speak to me so familiarly?" "I also saw you at church and asked my cousin, Violet Rowland, your name. You'll excuse me I trust, for I I couldn't help it. And now that 1 must call you nurse, may 1 know your "Yes. sir, you may call me Annie, and I will but pardon me if 1 pre scribe sleep to on now, and when you have restt and tea." And blue-eye 1 Annie floated out of the room, an angel if nry eyes were re sponsible. I almost felt glad of the ac cident already, although it meant loss to me by absence from business. But my shock was a severe one and for weeks 1 lay in a critical condition. In all this time there was no one who could possibly be so kind and so sooth ing to me as Annie. Of course my rel atives and friends from both far and near came to me. But none were, so faithful as Annie, and, in fact, I didn't wish them to be. So long as Annie was in the room, so long as I could look into those dear blue eyes, just so long was I contented and happy. 1 recovered slowly, and was finally able to sit on the piazza a few hours each day. Annie was alwas with me, or near at hand when not in my pres ence. I grew passionately fold of her, and manv were the long happy chats we enjoyed. Uncle John's from the first had urged my removal home, but Annie's papa on his arrival soon after the accident refused to give me up un til I should fully recover. It was a beautiful night, and the stars twinkled in the heavens, the half full moon smiled over the tree-tops, and all earth and heaven seemed peaceful as I sat alone in a little arbor in the Mansfield gardens. I was hum m ng one of Schuman's Impromptus, when the familiar and beautiful ligure of Annie appeared. She was strolling in the garden, and well, she strolled as usual to this quiet spot where w-. had for some time been wont to si' and talk the evening away. "Well, Mr. Allerton, you seem hap py, and I'm glad that it is so.' "Now, Annie, how do you know that I am happy?" said I. "Oh. you wouldn'tbe humming such an air if you were not." "Come and sit here, Annie. Do you remember the time I first saw your blue eyes the time I sang a hymn while the others of the choir were ren dering the anthem, or something like that?r' ''Yes: what of it?" said she. "That day I was a changed man. Never till then did I ardently admire woman. Since then, and partly, I suppose, through a power of e'reum stances. I have learned to love woman. To morrow, Annie. I return to Uncle John's again. But, oh, what will a home b3 to me without you. There, there, I mean it Annie, dear blue eyed Annie, I love you; aye, I feel that you are all in life to me. But but, Annie, do I love in vain?" "No, Charles." and she thoughtfully gave me her hand, while two great tears stood in those happy blue eyes. We satin silence a long time, for Cupid is dumb as well as "blind" I believe. At length Annie looked up and said: "I know now why I couldn't sleep one Sunday night, the same evening of the dav mv dear bov couldn't sing!" I met her merry blue eyes, and as they looked so much sweeter, even than ever before, I couldn't refrain from meeting her lips Annie is mine to-daj " Good Usage as an Authority. If a discussion arises or a bet is made in regard to the pronunciation of a word the usual authority consult ed is a dictionary, and generally Web ster's or Worcester's, but why should they always decide? In matters of et iquette or orthography general usage should be the accepted authority. Ta ken all in all, there is no guide like good usage, and the man who is most perfect in his choise and use of words, as well as the details of good breeding, is either one "to the manner born," to whom it comes as natural always to do and say the right thing as it does to breathe, or one who has the good sense to observe closely and a ready intellegence thai enables him to grasp qu'ckly, the true standard, and to be out of danger of perpetuating solecisms or social blunders. But for those who continually make m'stakes, which they know to be mist kas. and yet do not take the trouble to correct them, there is no excuse or hope. The wages of operators in the VP am sutta woolen mills at Fall Kiv.-r verc advanced lately 10 per cent. Reports from Tonquin say that 10,- 000 Christians have been massacred in the provinces of B.endinh and Phi yu. FOB THE OliO LOVE'S SAKE. DDIB DAY BA1.STON. This way, he said, is smooth and green and fair; Thero are no thorns to wound and bruise thy feet; Where summer reigns, and starlike blos soms sweet Bend to the wind's low call: thy path is there ! And mine! Alas, no downy mornings break, Across the valley where my path hath lain. And yet, though youth be dead and faith be slain, I keep this token for the old love's sake. Above the urn that holds no hidden flame Of altar fires that long have pas ed away, I yet may pause, and in the ashes gray Bead with dim eye3 the old familiar name. And if.some shadowy memory should awake, If once again my eyes with tears grow wet, If in my heart should spring some vain re gret, Nay, do not scorn me for the old love's sake '. As one who sees in old remembered nooks, With eyes that have grown sad with cease less tears, The same glad beauty of the long-lost years, And hears again the song of summer brooks, So if from troubled dreams I could awake And feel thy warm, soft kisses on my face, I think the sweetness of thy winsome grace Would touch me only for the old love's ike 1 FARM, GARDES AND HOUSEHOLD. Breeding Roadsters. The great essentials of a good road ster are endurance, gameness and speed. Without these qualities he can never be a first-class road horse; though, of course, if you superadd to these qualities beauty, docility and style, ou materially increase the val ue of the animal. Experience, the best of teachers, has shown us that no horse can possess endurance, speed and game without being well bred. Starting, therefore, on this theory, that no horse is fitted to get, and no mare is fitted to bear, a colt intended for a road horse, unless he or she be well bred, let us inqu re what are the qual ities most to be desired on the part of each. A horse, to be a mover of the right sort, must have his me.hauisni as perfect as a chronometer watch. A certain style is necessary to go fast and to stay. We all know that those horses which have gone fastest, and been noted stayers, have been possess ed of wonderful power across the loins. 1 have never seen a successful trotting horse in this country without a powerful quarter, and I have seen most of the famous ones. Oi course it is necessary to perfection to have with this powerful lever behind, a sloping shoulder, deep chest, a good rib and good legs; but unless you have the powerful quarter, all these good qual.ties are of no avail. 1 would, then, endeavor to have both dam and sire provided with this essential, and and if not both, at least one of them. Then the attempt should be to get the sloping shoulder, blood I ke neck and head. It is true with an upright shoulder ahorse may be fast, but there is not the same ease of action which is essential for endurance, as in the slop ing shoulder. Dr. S. H. Adams, Mechaniesburg, O. Vermont Hints on Breedlns. In no country in the world is the keeping of horses for the purpose of pleasure as well as utility, more large ly disseminated among persons of all classes, than in the United States: and the desire and ab lity both to keep bred horses, of a high grade, is daily gaining ground both in town and country. Among all classes the desire to raise valuable stock is on the in crease. It was said in former t mes by a farmer, concerning some miser able, broken-w.nded, r.ng-boned aud spavined old mare, "Oh, she vill do to raise a colt!" But it is now well understood that the breeder had better shoot such a mare at once, than to un dertake to raise a colt from her, so fat as his own pecuniary benefit is con cerned. If you get a colt from a poor old worn-out mare, the foal will be nothing but an abortion and a d's grace. The mare should have size, symme try and soundness, as well as beauty and good blood. She should have a heavy frame, and a little more than the average length from hip to shoulder, sloping hips and wide chest. She should be gentle, free from vicious habits, and free from all constitutional diseases and deformities. Never breed from a sulky, balky or vicious mare, unless you wish to perpetuate the evil. In the choice of a stallion for breed ing good horses, the more blood, com patable with the size required, the better. The pure blood and h:gh-bred has greater quickness, strength, health and vigor of constitution, as well as freater courage. The blood should e on the side of the stallion. Breed up, not down. Never put a mare to a stallion of inferior blood. The stallion should also be free from vices of tem per and disposition, as he will surelv transmit them to his progeny. He will f mat transmit aisease ana niattorma tions. and therefore these should be avoided. Joseph E. White, Rutland, Vermont. The Cause of Garget. Garget may be due to one of several causes, or to a comb nat on of them. These may be divided . a: o causes oper ating from without the ana mal ex trins e causes - and those having w th in the animal intrinsic causes. While the foregoing div.sion comprehends all cases or simple inflammation of the udder, we may have to do with what may be considered specibe mamit s. i. 1 e., inflammation due to infection, or the transm ssion torn one cow to an- other: and. again, to garget due to the ! eruptive diseases, such being the vac- j cine of the. coir, epizoot.c eczema, i - . . Extrinsic causes are comprehended i nrd r 'njuritis of various k nds, as from k ok. m ss too g ea. draughts : of air. t 1 t'.le t dd n:r. cuts. W'e.. I o 'h . ih sudde i weather c'.ange-,. j faulty n.ak aacl oo '-stojk jg. Tha I intrinsic cau-es are those set in action by sudden and unwise food changes, as from a spare indoor feed to a flush pasturage, or from a light grain feed to a full ration of o 1 cake, etc. Tu berculosa often manifests itself in a severe garget, defying all remedial ef fort. hese, together w.th the predis position which exists in all deep m lk ers, may be said to comprise the in trinsic causes of garget. The svmptoms of s mple garget are so fani'l ar that little need be said of them. There is every gradation from the case with no general symptom, the slightly increased temperature of the udder, together with a hardly percep tible hardening of it. as the only man ifestation of the disease, to the case w.th well marked general and local symptoms, such as high fever, gener al rigors, quickening pulse and respi ration, loss of appetite, cessation of rumination, together with extremely hot and painful udder, with milk flow stopped or continuing only as a much changed, thin yellowish fluid, or as a half solid and blood-tinged mass. Dr. F. E. Rice, Hartford, Ct. How IHnch Grass Seed Per Acre? Prcf. Beal says some practical far mars sow five times as much seed as others; he doesn't know which is right. Prof. J. W. Sanborn recom mends six quarts to six bushels; the poorer the farming and the more dis honest the seed dealer, the more seed will be required. On a rich so 1 in fine tilth, with seed known to be of good quality, he would use six qts. of timothy and six pounds of clover per acre; on a course, poor soil, with seed thought to 1 c impure or damaged, an unlimited quantity of seed will be re quired: for general purposes, 12 qts. of timothy and 10 lbs. of clover per acre, are desirable. Ex-Commissioner Le Due figures out that (3 lbs of t'm othy and 8 lbs of clover will furnish the proper number of spears of grass. Ma or Alvord: If a mixture is de s'red for hay, tall meadow oat grass and clover are the best for maturing with the orchard grass. If for pastur age, us3 one bushel each to the acre of orchard gl ass and Kentucky Blue, to which sis or eight quarts of medium red clover may well be added. Sow half a bushel per acre of timothy in August, with no other seed. A late crop can be obta'ned from mixing red top and Kentucky bluerass, a bushel of each, and if the land is somewhat light aud moist, alsike clover (say four quarts) mav be added. But alsike varies so with locality that it seems necessary for every farmer to be gu tied by a trial of it. Of all the clovers, the medium red is the most satisfactory, but on account of its early blossom ng and drying, I would not use it w.th any of the grasses except orchard and tall meadow oats. Clover, like t mo thy, is most profitable unmixed, and may be sown on fall or spring gra n, i) or 80 lbs to the acre. Then cut on ly one year and turn under for corn rr some grain crop. We succeed well in sowing clover with oats, but prefer to cut ot the oats and cure as hay, while early in the milk. Phil M. Shniger, Illinois: Nine lbs each of clover and timothy. Prof. William Brown, Ontario: 15 lbs of grass seed and 8 lbs clover. Other contributors to the Rural New Yorker express equally varying views. The fact is, every farmer must use h;s own pract cal judgment in this matter, based on h s experience w'th his own soil, and his knowledge of its capacity, aid of the variety of seed sown. Thorough preparat on of the seed-bed is a most important matter. Stacking Corn Fooder. Fcrm and F.resiue. I long ridiculed the idea of stacking corn-fodder, believ ng that the advant age ga'neu would fa 1 to compensate the extra labor involved. I had been in the habit of cutt ng into 12x12 shocks, on the ground in a sharp, con ical pde. and stack one or two others around it, secur.ng the tops w.th twine or stalks. When "properly put up. I found the fodder kept well, except the outside lay er of stalks, wh ch would, of course be bleached. Of course there came a storm, occas onallv, which tore open many of the shocks and filled the tops with snow; and I have found no part of my larming work more' dis agreeable than wading through mud and slush, ankie deep, to get a shock of fodder thus torn about, with the re sult of having the wet snow soak my hands and arms and crawl down mv neck, laying the foundations for a rer manent "catarrh: or even worse, after the thaw had been followed by a hard freeze, to have the stalks to tear loose from the frozen ground in the face of a bitt ng blast, spending time and la bor enough upon one shock to have handled three or four in good condi tion. All this I bore with equanimity for vears, as well as the still greater vexation of occasionally beinr com pelled, during a long continued "soft spell." to go upon my growing wheat with team and wagon and witness the ruin wrought by hoot's and wheels. Fortunately, a few years ago. I was compelled to remove the crop from a certain held before winter set in. I had it bound with twine and found the expense much lighter than I ex pectedand then set two men to haul ing it off and stacking it. The fodder was laid in two courses, with the tops inward, and the middle kept high enough, with bundles laid lengthwise, to give sufficient pitch to turn the wa ter. The stack or rack, was built in sections, each about twelve feet long, and the whole was carefully topped out with bundles, set quite step, and then covesed with straw and weighted down. In feed njr, but a single sect on was opened at a time, thus reducing the exposure to a minimum. The expenseof stacking wsts found to be much "less than was ant c.pated. The work was. done when both ground and fodder were dry. consequently th grow.ng "rain was not injured by the team. anSth fodder wasooniparative lv esy to handle. The bundles had been made of medium size, and were easilv handled with a two-fined fork. The stacking beipg doae so early, the fodder had not been damaged by the the weather, beyond the necessary bleach nz that occurred before husK in". and whe t once in the stack, onlv th" huts were exposed. This tirst stack was fed (,ut during an except oaally Voftf pell, 'and every bundle came out bng n aid frisit a joy both to feeder a: d fed. It would be impossible to say that stacking w.ll pay, in a pecuniary sense, in every case; but my experi ence in th's and subsequent years has been snoll thnt T cfinulil hd rpn- enrru to be caught at the setting in of winter Franklin county, O. F. M. Mulching Wheat. Farm and Fireside, The great injury done to the wheat crop of this year, 'by the drying winds of March and April, lends a new in terest to the que tion whether this in jury may not be largely obv ated by covering the grain during the winter with a light mulch of straw or liht manure. Th:s question is one vvell worthy of investigation, and one which might quite as well be settled by nhe ordinary farmer as to be referred to the experiment station; but it is one which cannot be decided by a single season's test, for the rea'on that dur ing the majority of our winters no such protection seems to be necessary. It is only in exceptional seasons, like the present, that its use seems apparent. The following test is recorded in the report of the Ohio Exper.ment Station for 1S84: "The winter of 1882-3 was very se vere on the wheat plant. In Decem ber one plot of one thirty-second acre was covered with a light coating of straw. This seemed to protect the plants from further injury, and the ex periment resulted so favorably that if was thought best to test the matter more thoroughly the next season. "Accordingly three plots were set apart to be treated with straw mulch. One plot was covered very slightly; another was covered about twice as heavy, and upon the third three times as much was used as on the first. "The yield for the uncovered wheat was at the rate of 38.9 bushels per acre; for that lightly covered, 45.5 bushels; for the medium covered, 32.y bushels; and under the heavy cov ering there was a total failure, the mulch and snow together evidently smothering the plants. el "The winter of 188;5-i was quite dif ferent from the preceding one. in stead of the ground being bare most of the time, and the temperature ex ceedingly variable, there was an un usual amount of snow, and the weath er was quite uniformly cold. Under these conditions, the straw mulch, ex cept where sparingly used, proved an injury instead of a benefit." This experiment, it will be seen, is very defective, in that the actual quan tity of straw used is not given, and that in the use of such small plots the errors arising from accidental varia tions of so 1 are liable to be so multi plied in reducing the results to acre age ratios that they may wholly ob scure the results obtained. Moreover, the plots for experiments of th:s char acter should always be duplicated, in order that the errors arising from va riations of soil may be corrected by comparison of duplicate results. Nevertheless, the results of the experi ment encourage further investigation in this line. During the similar winter of 1874-5, the writer spread a load of coarse ma nure, fresh from the stable, on a por tion of a wheat field peculiarly ex posed to the west wind. At the liar vest there was a very wide difference between the yield on the mulched and unmulehed ground, that where the manure was spread be ng apparently double the other. This experiment was still more defective than the one just quoted, and is only mentioned here to introduce the suggestion that a portion of the coarsest of the manure which may have been intended for top dressing, be left until immediately af ter the wheat is sown, and then ap plied as a mulch over the more ex posed portions of the fields. This'work mi"ht be done in Janu ary with still greater advantage to the wheat, if the manure could be so pre served as to be accessible at that time. Where the manure is kept under the shelter there will be no trouble on this point, the only care needed being to prevent it from freezing in large lumps on the field. We hope this matter will receive more attention than it has yet had, and that those who may have ac quired auy experimental knowledge on this-subject w.ll communicate it for the- benefit of others. Romanization in Japan. Japan otiers perhaps the only his torical nstance of a nation voluntari ly abandoning its manners, customs, belief's-and learning, within the short space f a generation, in order to adopt a foreign civilization, of which it recogaizes the overwhelming su periority. Japan has just made anoth er great stride in progress: she has adopted the Roman alphabet. The old ideographic characters have been a serious obstacle to study, ever since their acBsipt'on to cast type. As each: new word required new signs, and as the number of these were enormously inc reased by the expansion of learning in Japan, the strain entailed upon the student's memory became something indescribable. An ordinary public school student was obliged to com mence his task by loading his memory with at least 4.000 ideographic char acters. But if he wished to graduate in a higher college, be had to learn, not 4,000. but at the least 8,000 char acters to familiarise himself with which required six yea?s of constant appl cation. The reform has begun not so rap idly, perhaps, as canld be wished, butt upon a very solid basis. A society has been formed called the "Soc;ety of Romanization,"' with a meniAership oA more tihan 1,000 persons, many ot whom are princes and government officials, and the government warmly supports this reform. K Hotel Clerks in Persia. You travel in Persia on horses don kei s and camels. The are no rail roads and no hotels, excepting a small one at Teheran and $ne good one at Casbus. In traveling one takes h's cook aion and pwts up at TacanS puhlio houses built lor tho. purpose and called "chappah. hane.,'' Thev are very dirty and fn'I of vermin, and your servantshave to c ean, them out b:fore; thev are inhabitable,