THE INSIDE TRACK.
Brooklyn Eagle.
B. J. BETtDETTE.
He came to the bower of her love
Twanging his sweet guitar :
He called her In song his snow-white dove,
His lily, his fair, bright star,
While I sat close to the brown-eyed maid
And helped her to enjoy her serenade.
He sang that his love was beyond compare
(His voice was as sweet as his song;)
He said she was ture and gentle and fair,
And I told her he wasn't far wrong.
I don't know whether he heard me or not,
For his E string snapped like a pistol-shot.
He told how he loved her o'er and o'er
With passion in every word.
In songs that I never knew before,
And sweeter ones ne'er were heard.
But the night dews loosened his guitar
strings,
And they buzzed out of tune like crazy
things.
He sang and played till the moon was high,
Oh, sweet was the love-born strain ;
And the night caught up each tremulous sigh
And echoed each sweet refrain;
But I laughed when a beetle flew down his
throat.
And choked in a snort his highest note.
She liked it: and I did just so-so;
I was glad to bear his lay ;
I ever echoed him. soft and low,
When he sang what I wanted to say.
Till at last I leaned irom the window, and
then
I thanked him and asked bim to call agaia
And then he went away.
FARM, GARDES AD HOUSEHOLD.
American-Bred Horses.
Fifteen mill'on of horses are now
owned in America, and more than
1.000,lO'J a year must be bred to keep
up the supply. The largest portion of
these are use! for agricultural a id
heavy draft purj o-es. and such horses
bring from ,17o to $250 each. It
would be impossible to breed them if
it were not lor the importation of Per
cheron norses. Five hundred stal
lions are now annually imported from
France to the United States. The
immense wealth they are adding to
the nation will be better understood
when it is known that the first cross of
a Pen-heron stallion w.th a native
mare doubles the selling value of the
colt when matured. Large numbers
of Percheron stall ons are exported
from the United States by Canadian
breeders to renew the old French
blood so highly prize 1, and also to give
quality, style and act on to the large
English draft and Clydesdale stock
which has been bred there so long.
Seed Peas.
Will seed peas three or fotir years
old grow as well as if only one year
old asks a correspondent. Yes. bet
ter, if Major Alvord's experiments are
to be depended upon. Those experi
ments which were made at the cele
brated Houghton farm seem to es
tablish the fact that seed peas, two or
three years old produced better crops
than younger seed. If well kept peas
will retain their vitality for five or six
years. But we do not know why they
should be Letter with age, and to be
candid, we doubt if anybody else does.
It is true that during the t me men
tioned they are as good as if onlv
a year old, but we seriously doubt if
they are any better. Sti:l Major Al
vord is a careful man, and he has
reached his conclusions only with care
ful eNjieriments. We have" only our
own opinion to back us, and he seerns
to have more than his.
Competitive Agriculture.
The requirements of agriculture are
constantly growing more and more im
perative in their demands for educated
and intelligent farmers. The competi
tive tendency of the age makes this a
necessity. The closer the competition
the better must be the system of farm
ing followed, and the adinin strat ve
ability of the farmer. Profits are very
small under the best system of manage
ment. and where any mismanagement
is allowed no profits whatever can be
expected. Then the farmer should be
so trained that he will know how to
avo'd mismanagement in all his oper
ations. Agriculture is a business a
profession just as much as manufac
turing, bank ng. law or medicine, and
it should require, and does require, as
much special training as either of the
others. This spec al training must re
ceive more attention in the future
than in the pa t, and farmers must
have such education to 1 e successful
as makes other business men success
ful. I' tie tlie Urn li on tue Con.
Live Stock Mon: hly.
But a few farmers ever think it nec
essary that a cow should be brushed.
We have seen neighbors laugh and
ridicule what they call over-niceness
and fussiness, when the cows were
curried and brushed twice a day, with
as much care as was given to the
horses. "What! curry a cow? Never
heard tell of such a thing!" But a
cow needs it even more than a horse,
and for several reasons. A cotv, whose
milk i used for food, unless she has a
perfectly clean skin cannot give clean
m;lk, and then butter will be bad. The
skin should be in a perfectly healthful
condition and the blood pure, or the
milk will be impure and unhealthful,
and the butter or cheese will be taint
ed. Neither cleanliness nor healthful
.ness can be secure! without regular
brushing of the sk n and the removal
of all the filth that will gather upon
ill-kept cows. This should be done be
fore the cows are milked, both morn
ing and even'ng. The morning clean
ing should be a thorough ore; a sim
ple brushing to remove dust and loose
hair-; w.ll be sufiicient for the even ng.
It will help very much for both horses
and cows to have the stables so floored
that the animals can bekeptfrom foul
ing themselves.
Winter Seeding.
Various times of the year have been
recommended for sowing grass seed.
Many plow and seed down in August
and have good success unless Septem
ber proves too hot. which is often the
case. It has frequently happened that
when we have a piece of corn ground,
all plowed and manured for wneat n
autumn, ; nd have an opporlun ty ti
sow wheat and grass in March or early
in April, when the frost is out of only
two or three inches of the surface, we
have had a good catch. As soon as
we had mowed an early piece of June
grass last summer we broke it up with
the intention of sowing corn for fod
der, but the extreme drought prevent
ed. We consequently manured it in
autumn and harrowed it thoroughly,
expecting to seed to grass as late as
possible in autumn, as one farmer of
our acquaintance has been successful
with very late fall seed ng, the only
uncertainty be'ng the trouble of hit
ting upon the latest opportunity be
fore winter sets in. Failing to hit such
a time we decided to wait until spring
before seeding this piece. But on the
12th of January, the first snow having
disappeared and the thermometer be
ing up to sixty or seventy degrees we
found that the frost was ncely out of
some two inches of the surface, so we
stepped out between the showers and
sowed six quarts of herds' giass seed
on about a charter of an acre of
ground, and had a great mind to sow
the two acres already prepared.
Economzln Time on tlte Farm.
How to use time to the best a lvant
age in the busy season of the year is
what every farmer should study well.
It is not enough that he works hard
all day long. sca:cely taking time to
cat lis meals, if his work is not done
right, n the right t'me and in the
right way. Doing the work in the
right time w 11 save much unnecessary
labor, by keeping all kinds of farm
implements ready for use whenever
neeiled; keeping fences up so as not to
be troubled with runaway cattle; but
especially in the ra sing of ( rops it is
neiessary to be in t me, both in seed
ing and harvesting and keeping the
weeds down in the spring of the year,
so as not to let them get a start, or
they will be hard to conquer later in
the season. To do things in the right
way includes a great deal, and only
the outlines can be given in a short
article like this. The first th ng is to
do one thing at a time and do it
thoroughly, not to be shfting from
one work to another, for in th;s way
much time is los'. One thing which is
much overlooked is to have everything
handy; have all kinds of feed close by
where it is to be fed; have the corn
crib near to the hog pasture, the hay-
close to the barn or stable, and wa!er
both for cattle and house use near at
hand, for in this way it will not take
more than half the time to do chores
as it will if everthing that is fed must
be carried, even if not thought to be
far. It is surprising how much time
will be walked away for nothirg in
the course of a year. Order should be
strictly observed in everything, in hav
ing all kinds of tools and having them
in their place when not used. While
no method can be mecanically follow
ed in divid ng up the labor on the farm
still it can be arranged by establishing
certa n rules so as to save much t me.
In this wav more can be done in ten
hours work than in fourteen where no
order is followed; therefore It is neces
sary to plan well before commencing
on al! kinds of work.
Farm Notes.
A heaUhy fowl will drink fifteen to
twenty t'mes a day. and in a clo-e
coop, or in hot weather, st'll oftener.
Separated early and raised up by
themselves, pullets are worth at least
a quarter more for use than if allowed
to run w th a lot of cockerels.
Diseases of the Tver and kidneys are
very common in hogs. The difficulty
in this case, and in most cases, comes
largely from improper feed.
Horses should have water often if
thev are working in the held. They
doubtless sutler much from th rst, for
they are never watered except at
morning, noon and night.
There is no better food for young
pigs after they have learned to eat,
than good threshed oats. If given drr
and alone, the pigs will chew at them
till they get all the kernels, but they
will swallow little or none of the
husks.
The most des'rable eggs for setting
are tho-c the freshest lad. A liberal
dally sprinkling of tepid water upon
them when incubation is near its ac
complishment, say a week before
hatching, :s an a d to the free issue of
the chicks at maturity.
Don't keep corn stored too long in
the crib, waiting for the advance in
prices that may possiblv come by-and-by.
The natural shrinkage in weight
and the demands of rats and mice
alone may wipe out more than the pro
spective ga'ns.
The best way to induce a turkey hen
to care for a large number of ch:cks:
Wait till she gets ready- to sit, give her
as many eggs as she can cover well,
and a week later set several hens;
when they hatch give all the chicks to
the turkey, and she will mother them.
Lack of water will make fowls Pght,
however libei ally they may he fed.
In an experiment where some fowls
were killed twelve hours after feeding,
but without water, the undigested
corn was found nearlv whole in their
crops. Where they had access to wa
ter the crops were empty, showing that
the digestion had been rapid.
To improve a stiff wet clay soil or
one that is dry, 1 ght and sandy, sow it
down to red clover andharvestit while
in bloom. Then sow a second crop
and plow it uner while green, in the
Jail. The strong, tough clover roots
wedge themselves into t' e clay and
make it loose and friable. On the
other hand, the same strong, tough
roots compact the loose sand, hold it
together and keep moisture from dry
ing out.
Now is the time to profit by the ad
vice you got from the agricultural pa
pers last winter concern. ng the care of
implements. You are, of course, very
busy, but there is no sound reason why
you should neglect to store the tools
that you hae no further need of this
season the cultivators, double shov
els, corn ployvs. mowers, reapers,
binders and ha rakes. Gather them
up and store them away as soon asy-ou
have done w.th them.
When a farmer becomes burdened
with a b'g lot of poor stock, etc., he
is then in a fair way to lose money,
and to become discouraged and reach-
to declare that farming don't pay.
Poor stock will burden any farmer,
and the wise man who owns any of
this class of auimals will make every
endeavor to get rid of them as soon as
he can stock up judiciously with bet
ter ones.
Nearly half a century ago, Joshua
Van Cott, a great horse authority on
Long Island, used the following re
cipe for curing heaves in horses. It has
been regarded as a precious secret un
til quite recently: Take forty sumach
buds, one pound resin, one pint gin
ger, half pound mustard, one pint un
alacked lime, six' ounces cream tartar,
four ounces gum guacuni, one pound
epsom salts: mix together, divide into
thirty powders and give one every
morning in the horse's feed before wa
tering him.
Sheep on the farm are almost a ne
cessity in these times of advancement
in farming. Tlie highest authorities
on agricultural economy claim that
there must be a variety in stock as
well as in crops to attain the greatest
success on the farm, and sheep are. ad
mitted to be the best adapted to foul
lands. Their size makes them very
convenient to furnish meat for the
farmer's family. Their products are
marketable when there is little else on
the farm to bring in ready cash. They
fit well to the large gap between hogs
and cattle.
The place which the pumpkin can
be made to fill on the farm is an im
portant cue. As a lood for cattle, it
is excellent, and alter removing the
seed may be fed with profit to milch
cows. Horses are f oad of them. Hogs
revel in the.r rich and appetizing juices.
Sheep eat them with avidity. Chick
ens, ducks and geese feed on them at
every opportunity. As a w.nter food
for all kinds of stock they are excel
lent. Pumpkins are so easily raised,
are so valuable, and are so easily kep
1 11 winter, that the iarmer who fa 1
to plant them neglects an importan
item in his farm economy. Plant an
save pumpkins, and the result will b
astonishing.
Havana Tobacco Dying out.
The truth is that good Havana to
bacco is every year growing scarcei
and scarcer, and promises before lone
to be all but unobtainable. The quali
ty of tobacco, like that of other agri
cultural produce, depends on condi
tions which batHe the most careful
cultivator. Since 1881 there has been
no really line-l'.avored, aromatic leaf,
and though high hopes are entertained
regard. ng the coining harvest, these
anticipat ons may be doomed to disap
pointment, f-omething, however,
more serious than wind and weather is
at work in the detraction of Cuban
tobacco. The soil itself is getting
worn out. Tobacco is one of the most
exhausting of crops, and in course of
ages the chem cal elements on which
it subs sis have been so extracted and
converted into ashes all over the world
that the earth is no longer capable of
imparting them to the" hungry plant.
Art ficial manures have accordingly
been had recourse to, with the results
that while some of them have proved
fairly useful, many have so poisoned
the delicate herb that, in order to
eliminate them from the so 1. the
ground has been sown with other crops
Even then ears must elapse before
the drugged plantations can recover
from the treatment to which they have
been subjected, wh le there are proph
ets of evil who are not slow to affirm
that no compound of the chemist's
laboratory, and no fert lzers from the
Peruvian shores, will ever supply the
Cuban earth with the tobacco food of
which the harvests of two centuries
have robbed it. Under these circum
stances it may be imagined how many
of "the real Havanas, sold in London
and Paris as such, have ever seen the
city from whioh they derive their
name, or what percentage of the sup
pos t ous Cabanas Excepeionales. or
Partaga Conchas, can claim to have
the remotest connect'on with the
humblest field in the "Spanish Ire-laud."
Another Trunk Tragedy.
CMcago Herald.
'Talking about the trunk tragedy
at St. Louis,"' sa d a lady who was re
turning from a visit to one of the Wis
consin summer resorts, "that's noth
ing beside a trunk tragedy I saw up at
the lake. A woman came to the hotel
about ten days ago, and the first thing
we heard was the great trouble she
had had in getting her trunk. About
every hour of the dayshe went to the
hotel office to nquire after her m ssing
Saratoga. We noticed that she had
nothing to wear but an old gray trav
eling dress, and she was stared at a
good deal in the dining-room and on
the piazza after dinner, but we made
allowances for her m sfortune and
rather sympathized with her. She was
all the time taking on about her bad
luck and telling of the beautiful dress
es she had. Her dear, dead husband,
who had left her a lew months after
their marriage, was wealthy, and had
bought her everything she asked for.
She said she had no less than twelve
nice dresses in her trunk and more at
home that she couldn't bring. You
can imagine that we all became rather
curious about her wardrobe, and some
of us were as anxious for it to arrrive
as she was. And she was making
good progress with the men, too, and
about hooked a wealthy widower from
Milwaukee.
"One evening just after dinner the
porters were bringing up some bag
gage, and the widow yvas on hand as
usual looking for hers. This time it
was there, and she clapped her hands
in joy. But the very next minute the
men let it fall; it came down the steps
right at the end of the piazza. It
struck a corner and burst, and lefore
us was spread the widow's wardrobe.
The crowd gathered around, and there
was quite a sensation."
'Had she told the truth?"
'Yes, she had. There were the doz
en dresses, but they were all lor little
girls, at least six different sizes. As
she left the house early next morning
none of us, nor the Milwaukee widow
er, either, were able to learn where
she had been keeping her children
poor thing.
The modern martvr who suffers at
(he steak is i he chap who lives at the
cJie.i'i board hous..
The Art of Embalming.
. T. San.
Two men sat silent in a handsomely
furnished store on a leading New York
thoroughfare. A small portion of the
furniture and ornaments pertained to
the living, the remainder to the dead.
It was an undertaker's establishment,
and the younger but more solemn per
son was a professional embalmer. In
ansyver to the reporter's questions, he
said:
"Gen. Grant's embalming was work
of the finest kind something to be
proud of. It was done by the leader
of our profession, and with the best
material in the market. There are
many mortuary directors who profess
to be embalmers, and who know a
smattering of the art; but they are un
worthy of the name. Real embalmers
are few in number, there not being
more than ten in the entire country.
To be one, an undertaker must have
a sufficient knowledge of surgery, med
icine and chemistry, and must also
have considerable artistic sense. This
makes a rare combination.
'The chief element in embalming
consists in removing a large portion of
the blood from the body and substitut
ing therefore some powerful antiseptic
fluid. Many experiments have been
made in respect to these fluids. I can
hardly recall how many peparations
have been tried. Brine, salicylic acid,
diluted creoso e, soluti ons of sulphate
of zinc, and the iodide and chloride of
me aL Yon see, the fluid used must
bo nearly colorless, or eke verg'ng on
l.li-iod cole r, and must not cause dis
coloration. This precludes the use of
falts of ( opp;;r, iron, manganese, and
chromium, and also compounds of sul
phur. "A solution of chloride of zinc was
at one time in vogue, but in several
ins ances it produced a ghastly bluish
tinge, and so went entirely out of fash
ion. Tne so-called Egyptian i'.nd wa i
a standard pie-iaration for years. It
was so named by its manufacturer,
who claimed that it was the same liquid
as wa- used in preparing the mummies
of Egypt. It was improved upon, how
ever, by some American chemists, who
now have a i r. c it al monopoly in sup
plying embalmers with the fluid. Their
manufacture is styled the Oriental flu
id, and is made in Boston.
"In embalming, a large vein and
large artery and a small force pump,
connected with a vessel containing tne
antiseptic fluid, is applied. The j ro
cess requires from two to four hours.
The. natural movement of the circula
tion is followed. As the fluid enters
the vessels the blood s forced out. The
longer the time the better ihe result.
A short those enables the operator to
remove the blood only from the larger
vessels. In a longer period the fluid
I asses from the larger to the smaller
vessels and into the capillaries. This
d's'.ends the skin and produces a life
like appearance.
The cost of 1'ie process is from 15
upward. Embalming grows more
common every year. In the past
thirty months our establishment has
embalmed about 200 subjects. We are
still behind the ancients in our work.
In the man. a subject well treated
lasts three yea; s. This is afar aver
age. It would be longer if it were not
tor occas on-.l cases in yvh'ch the an
tisept c liquids seem to lose the'r effi
cacy. There s however, a distinguished
chemist in Italy who claims to petrify
a subject by us ng some silica, e pre
paration. Though I have not seen the
process employed, yet I have been
shown specimens which resembled pet
rifactions. "A second duty of the embalmer is
the same as that of an undertaker, to
make the sub'ect as life like and nat
ural as possible. There is a divis on
in the profession at this point. Some
endeavor by art to restore almost all
the characteristics of life;others merely
endeavor to remove the disagreeable
insignia of death. As for myself, I
think it proper to conceal the marks
of wounds, accidents or disease. No
art can take ayvay ti e horror of death.
Its excess makes death the more'terri
ble by contrast.
"The embalmer runs the risk of dis
ease and blood poisoning. A subject
once preserve 1 and treated is innoc
uous; but in the piocess the germs of
the disease from .which he d'ed are ex
pelled in vast numbers in the bloods
The operator in such cases always run
the risk of contagion and infection.
Blood poisoning is as apt to occur to
the embalmer as to the surgeon. The
danger in all these cases, however, can
be guarded against. Those who are
attacked are n.ne t'mes oat of ten ig
norant funeral drectors, who call
themselves embalmers when they are
not. ' '
The Conductor's Story.
Chlcagu Herald.
"If yon write stories for the paper,"
said a Kock Island Railway freight
conductor, "let me tell yau a" true one
that came under my observation last
winter out near Des Moines when I was
running on the Iowa division. This is
no railroad yarn, but a fact. I saw it
with my own eyes. One day we were
running along and I was on the en
g ne. As we began to cross a bridge
we looked ahead and there was a little
g.rl about six years old clambering
over the timbers. She had some school
books in her hand and was evidently
on her way home from school. The
engineer whistled, when she turned
her race toward us. I'll never forget
that face as long as I live. It was just
as white as the snow on the ice in the
creek thirty or forty feet below her.
But she d dn't scream, nor try to jump
nor do anything. She just looked at
us with a steady glare as if she'd stop
the train with her eyes that we were
unable to do with our brakes. At first
we were all so broke up we hadu't any
idea what to do, and I Deiieve we'd of
stood there like posts if she hadn't
suddenly stretched out her little arms
to us in a mute appeal for help. Well,
sir, that broke the charm, and we all
started up wildly. I swung way out
as far as I could, holding by one hand
and w.th the other motioning her to
get down down between the t'mbers.
Would you bcleve it? That little
thing followed my directions as if !
she'd been a man. And she took her
time to it. too. and climbed down as '
del bcrately as if sho'd been at home.
She was none too quick, though, for
her little brown hood, with a red rib
bon fluttering from it, had no sooner
disappeared between the timbers than
we thundered over her.
" 'Let her out, Bill,' I shouted to the
engineer, 'let her out lively, or that
little thing will never be able to stick
down there till we get over the bridge.
Turn her loose!'
"So Bill let her out. but she'd no
sooner reached the bank than I jumped
off and went heels over head in a snow
bank. I got back to the bridge as
soon as I could and waited for our
long train to get by. Don't mind tell
in' ye that as 1 stood there I did some
thing I never did afore yes, sir, I
stood there and prayed that that little
one might be able to stick it out till I
could get to her. But I guess my
prayers are no good, for when the
train was by I rushed out on the bridge
over timbers by the dozen, expecting
every minute to see that little red rib
bon. But it never showed up. Tears
began to fill my eyes so that I could
hardly see the cross-pieces I have a
little girl of my own you know but
on and on I went, and no brown hood
or red ribbon could I find. Then 1
turned and looked to the ice below,
and there she was. Yes, she had fall
en thirty or forty feet through the
bridge.
"How I got down to her I don't
know, but I got there. I lifted her up
in my arms. Her eyes were closed,
but she opened them, looked at me a
second and then said:
"How did y ou get down here?"
"This quest'on would have made me
laugh if I had felt sure she wasn't
hurt, but as it was I hurried up the
bank and to the caboose. She said she
wasn't hurt much, but I knew she
couldn't tell, and we started for the
next station.
"I'm going home, ain't I?" she in
quired, after we had fixed her up in
our bunk.
"I told her 'yes,' knowin' that min
ute we were goin' right by her house"
I was in such a hurry to get to a sur
geon that I thought it right to deceive
her. Pretty soon she went off to sleep
and she looked so deathly lying there
that all of us went to wipin' our eyes
like women.
" 'Boys,' says I, 'if she never wakes
up I'll quit the road. I never want to
see that bridge agin.' "
"And you have quit the road?"
"No, I'm at the old business. She
got well, and all the spring used to
watch for my tra:n as she would for
her papa cominghome from work. We
never passed her house unless she was
out waving that little brown hood at
us and making that red ribbon dance.
Our engineer used to whistle for her
regularly, and she got so that she
could tell that whistle as far as she
could hear it. Once in a while, when
not in a hurry, we'd stop our train
and have a talk vvith her. She said
she loved us all, even the old engine,
but she has never set her foot on the
track s nce that day she fell through
the bridge. Th;s is a true story and
the little g'rl's name is Lily."
In a Lighthouse.
"Yes, we see and hear some curious
things," said the lighthouse keeper,
"and as for monotony it's enough to
drive one mad. Married men fare bet
ter, as when women and children are
around it isn't quite so lonesome; but
it's bad enough. My Station for a
number of years was a rock about two
hundred feet long and one hundred
feet wide, and in a gale of wind the
house stood right in the water, with
the seas rolling all around.
"Yes.it was shaky. Orffe n'ght I
call to mind especially. It had been
blowing a. gale for two days; the sea
was making a clean breach over the
ledge, and every time it hit the house
it would jump sixtyr or a hundred feet
into the air and come down on the roof
like rocks. On the ledge were four or
five boulders that must have weighed
over two tons: and the first thing we
knew one of them felloyvs came at the
door, burst it in, and in a second we
were all a-swimming. The stone
couldn't get in; it just stuck there, so
we took to the light and sat on the
stairs, and nigh froze to death, all
night. Me and my man took turns in
going up every half hour, and d'ye
know, the lighthouse swung so that
you could hardly keep your feet. I
thought more than once that we'd go
over, but she didn't. The feeling is
different from most anything else.
There is a shaking and vibrating all
the time, and then when the big gusts
come you can feel the whole thing
tremble and quiver, so that you al
most lose your feet.
"One night," continued the speaker.
"I remember some fishermen got
blowed off shore and came in there,
and what a night it was! About mid
night some one sings out, -The lamp's
out!' And so it yvas. Up we rushed,
half a dozen of us, scared to death, as
ten minutes might cost a good many
lives and a vessel could come within
twenty feet of our house before she
struck. By the time we got up we
found the place full of smoke and see
something had fouled the chimney,
and what d'ye suppose it was? You'd
never guess." It was blowing fit to take
the buttons oil your coat; but someone
had to go outside and climb up the
rod on to the very top of the lignt and
see what was the trouble. It was a
close call, and we tossed for it. My
mate drew and started. We tied a
rope around him and up he went and
did the job.
"He came baek alive, but with the
whitest face I ever saw on a live man.
He said he wouldn't do it again for
love or money.
"But what d'ye suppose he found in
the chimney, stuck fast? .Nothing
more nor less than one of these 'ere
Mother Carey's chickens, jammed in
as tight as it could get, and dead, of
course. We get regularly pelted with
birds in the light and that is the rea
son the glass is made so thlcK. as al
most every night one or two birds hit
against it. Somet mes in the spring
and fall hundreds of 'em will strike in
the course of a n ght. You see at this
time the birds are migra ine and fly
ing off shore along the coast and on
foggv n ghts they only -see the blaze of
thelight They make a break for it
and down they go, and in the morning
the rati, ron and "lass will be all
blood and feathers."
General Grant's Career.
aarper's Magatlae.
The story of- General Grant's life
savors more of romance than reality;,
it is more like a fable of ancient days
than the history of an American citi-'
zen of the nineteenth century. As light
and shade produce the most attractive
effects in a picture, so the contrasts in
the career of the lamented general, the
strange vicissitudes of his eventful life,
surround him with an interest which
attaches to few characters in history.
His rise from the obscure lieutenant
to the commander of the veteran
armies of the great republic, his tran
sition from the frontier post of the un
trodden West to the Executive Man
3 on of the nation; his sitting at one
time in a l.ttle store in Galena, not
even known to the congressman of his
district; at another time striding
through the palaces of the Old World
with the descendants of a line of kings
rising and standing uncovered in his
presence; his humble birth in an Ohio
town scarcely known to the geograph
er; his distressing illness and courag
eous death in the bosom of the nation
he had saved these are the features
of his marvelous career which appeal
to the imagination, excite men's won
der, and fascinate the minds of all who
make a study of his life.
Many of the motives which actuated
him and the real sources of strength
employed in the putting forth of hrs
singular powers will never be fully
understood, for added to a habit of
communing much with himself was a
modesty which aHvays seemed to make
him shrink from speaking of a matter
so personal to him as an analysis of
his own mental powers, and those
who knew him best sometimes under
stood him the least. His most inti
mate associates often had to judge the
man by the results accomplished,
without comprehending the causes
which produced them. Even to the
writer of this article, after having
served with the general for nine years
continuously, both in the field and at
the presidential mansion, he will in
some respects always remain an enig
ma. His memoirs, written on his
death-bed. to be published only after
his decease, furnish the first
instance of his consent to
unbosom himself to the world. In
his intercourse he did not study to be
ret'eent about himself; he seemed
rather to be unconscious of self. When
visiting IJ-'t. Louis with him while ho
was president, he made a characteris
tic remark show ng how little hs
thoughts dwelt upon the events of his
life which made a deep impression
upon others.
Upon his arrival a horse and buggy
were ordered, and a drive taken to his
farm, about e'ght miles distant. He
stopped on the high ground overlook
ing the city, and stood for a time by
the side of the little long house which
he had built partly with his oyvn hands
in the days of his poverty and early
struggles. Upon being asked whether
the events of the past fifteen years of
life did not seem to h'm I ke a tale of
the "Arabian Nights," especially in
coming from the White House to visit
the little farm house of early days, he
simply rep ied, "Well, I never thought
about it in that light,"
A Quail Burial.
ForeBt, Forge and Farm.
About eighteen months ago seventy
five qua 1 were taken from Tennessee
into New Jersey for the purpose of col
onizing them. In the spring of 1884
the experiment of breeding the birds
while in confinement was attempted,
two pairs being placed in a large wire
cage that was built in the yard of a
farm house. The birds mated. That
spring one of the b rd bu It a nest and
laid thirteen egrs, and was about set
ting on them when, in consequence of
the breaking of a water leader, the
nest was destroyed. The eggs were
then taked and put under a bantum
and hatched out. That summer the
quail hen died. Last autumn one of
the cock birds died.
This spring the remaining pair, being
a cross pair, mated, and the hen bird
built a nest and laid thirteen eggs.
During the first yveek of her sitting
upon them she was taken sick, and
after moping for two or three days
died. While she was sick, and after
her death, the cock bird manifested
some very remarkable characteristics.
He seemed greatly distressed. The hen
bird had died on her nest. The cock
would run to her and caress her, and
then turn away and call her. He made
queer chirpings and sounds such as lie
had never been heard to utter before.
At last he seemed to realize that his
mate was deal. He then went and
pulled her off the nest and dragged
her body over to the corner of the
cage with backward movements of his
feet. There he dug a hole and covered
her up with earth, leaving only the
long yving feathers of one wing ex-po-ed.
'Ibis done, without uttering
anv further i-ounds, he returned to the
nest and sat on the eggs, and event
ually succeeded in bringing out a brood
of ten young quail. The young birds
are now alive. The story of the burial
is vouched for by a large number of
witnesses.
Burning Up Fortunes.
"If the original forests of the states
of Ohio and Indiana were standing to
day," says a lumber buyer, "the'r
valuation" would be many times greater
than are the" farms which they sacri
ficed to improve. In making thir
farms the settlers in those days de
stroyed millions and millions of dol
lars' worth 'of black walnut. Miles
and miles of fence are laid with black
walnnt rails. One old farmer says that
only thirty years ago he began making
his farm, and that he had worked eight
years in clear' ng it of the black wal
nut timber, eighty acres of which ho
burned up. After thirty years of culti
vation the farm is worth $8,000. If it
had its walnut timber back it would
be worth more than $100,000. This
farmer is only one among thousands
who for years girdled, cut and burned
the great forests they found occupying
the land,"
Item from Salt Lake City paper:
"The unknown woman who was k.lled
at this place about three months a?o
by the cars proves to be one of tho
wives of tho ed tor of tlrs paper,"