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ST. HELENS, COLUMBIA COUNTY, OREGON, JULY 28, 1882.
vol. n.
NO. 51.
COLUMBIAN.
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nours TRIAL.
BY ELTiA W. THOMPSON.
"I do wish," said Mrs. Prndence Hall,
holdinsr ber darnincr needle in mid-air
- for a moment over the coarse blue sock
she was mending, "I do wish you could
see your way clear to marrying Seth
Hallet. lie wants you the worst kind,
and he'd be such a good provider."
"Bat I don't liko him well enough,
Prudy: andT want something besides
meat and tlriuk and two calico dresses a
year."
Mrs. Prudence Hall had sprained her
ankle, and was forced, sorel- against her
will, to sit day after day in an upper
chamber, with a terrible consciousness
that everything about the farm was re
lapsing into chaos and old night for
want of her oversight. Her pretty sister
Dora had come to stay with her; but she
"was only a child, you know." "There
are two kinds of love in this world,"
said Mrs. Hall, after a pause, in which
she had been taking counsel with herself
whether Dora was old enough to be
talked to on such matters at all, and "it
flashed upon her that "the child" was
nearly twenty years old. "Perhaps you
like Seth weil enough to marry him,
only you don't know it."
'"Tell me about the two kinds of love,"
said Dora, innocently. "I thought love
i ii. ii
was iove mu worm ut;i.
."I have never known but one
kind, I
think; Dora. When I married
David
Hall, he was the most well-to-do
man in these parts, and we never had a
quarrel while he lived. He was a good,
practical sort of a man, and never asked
me to do anything unreasonable."
"What if he had ?" asked Dora.
"Well, I guess I should have argued
him out of it. But there is a kind of
love that will draw women through tire
and water. It makes them throw them
selves away on poor, shiftless men that
will never provide for themselves nor
their children, and they know it as well
as anyone else does, ft is the greatest
wonder to me why such a useless feeling
should ever have been created."
Dora had bent low over her work to
-hide her roguish smiles at her sister's
discourse, but at this point she fixed her
deep gray eyes on Prudence, not smil
ing, but simply earnest. "Such love
brings happiness sometimes, I suppose,"
said Dora.
"Next to never," said Prudence, with
great decision. "We ain't made to be
happy, and anything that's too good
alway3 leaves a bad taste in the mouth.
Comfort is a bird in the hand, and you
don't gain anything by letting it fly on
the chance of happiness."
"Did you ever know anyone about
here, Frudence, that threw herself away
for love ? It seems to me they won't
look at a man unless he has a house and
farm all readv for them."
"That's where they're right." said
right,"
Prudence,
high flyin
"You are rather given to
notions, and it's time yon
found out that bread didn't grow ready
buttered. Yes, I did know one girl who
was pretty and smart and had no end of
chances to get married (I think my
David courted her a spell, but he never
would own it) and she would have that
shiftless critter, Joe Raymond, who
never could make one hand wash the
other.. Even when she was a-dying she,
pretended that she had been happy and
wouldn't have done no other way if she
had to do it over again."
'Was she Joe's mother?" asked Dora
qnickly.
"Yes, to be sure; and wen she died
we took him to bring up an work on the
farm. He's more than paid his way, but
he's a rolling stone like father, and
won't never come to anything. I forgot
to tell you he's going to-morrow."
"Going to morrow?" cried Dora, with
a great.start. "I thought his time wasn't
out for another month."
"Well, it ain't rightly out till he is 21,
but he was in such a hurry to be off that
I gave him the last month."
Then silence fell upon them.
These two women had the same father
and mother, though a score of years lay
between them. - Prudence had been
born in the early married life of her
parents, when they were struggling with
a stony New England farm, and there
was work for even baby hands! The
lines of duty and patience were deep
graved in her rugged face, which yet
beamed with a kindly common sense.
But Dora come to her mother late in
life, as an old tree sometimes blossoms
into loveliness after everyone has forgot
ten it. Her little feet had walked in
easy paths, and Prndence yearned over
her like a mother.
'She sat now by the open fire, bending
her graceful head over some delicate
work that Prudence would never have
found time for; her red dress and the
flickering firelight made a picture too
lovely for that dull room. "Prudence,"
she said sudderl, "as this is Joe's last
night, I think I'll go down and say good
bye to him."
"You might call him up here."
"No; I think I will go myself."
"I believe Lhaven't ever told you,
Dora, how much you pleased me by giv
ing up that childish way of going on with
him that you used to have. It did very
well for you to be fond of each other
when you were little, but, of course, it is
out of the question now."
It might have been the red dress and
th6 firelight that brought such a vivid
flush to Dora's cheek as she listened and
turned away. She ran lightly down
stairs and opened the door of the great
farm-kitchen.
A young man sat by the dull fire, look
ing into it as one does into the eyes of an
enemy before the fight an overgrown
farmer boy, in home-made clothes, with
nothing about him to fall in love with,
least of all for the brilliant little figure
that stood waiting for him to look up.
He was too intent on his own thoughts
to notice her, till she went swiftly across
the room, and, taking his head between
her soft hands, turned his face to hers.
"Joe, bad boy, were you going away
without letting mo know?" j
The hard lines of his face softened and
brightened under her gaze till one would
not have known him for the; same man.
"I thought I should not pee you to
nigh," hje. said. i
"You know better; you know I would
have crept through the keyhole for one
last little minute with yon."i
"How long will you wait lor me,
Dora? '
"Till vou come back."
"If it were seven years, j think how
long it would be."
If yon loved me as you make mo be
lieve," said Dora, "you would not go
away at all, but work here until you
could build a little liouse, ana then we
would rough it together."
"No, little Dora, that is not my kind
of love; my mother tried that and she
ived a slave s life.
"Dora, Dora!" called Prudence from
up stairs, "what on earth are you doing
down there?" !
"I must go now; I must, truly," said
Dora, as she felt herself locked in arms
that would not give way "If I live
without you for seven years II shall be a
homely old maid, and you will not
thank me for waiting for you."
He put her away then and looked at
her curiously,as if he had never thought
of her prettiness before. "Do you
know what your name means?" he asked,
earnestly. "I saw it in the papers that
Theodora means 'Gift of God,' and you
have been jufet that to me. If I had
never seen you I should never had a
notion about a day's work or a night's
sleep. I will write whenever I have any
luck and come home on New, Year's eve.
when I do come, and if you wear this
red dress I shall know you have waited
for me."
"I think I shall livo to wear it when
you come home, if it is seven times
seven years, Joe, for women are very
hard tokill," said Dora, slowly disap
pearing from the kitchen. j
"What have you been doing all this
time?" said Prudence, severely.
"I was only giving Joe some good ad
vice." "Well, I hope he'll profit by it."
"So do I," said Dora, heartily.
Tis as easy to say seven years as one;
and we read of Jacob's seven years'
service for Rachel, which seemed but as
one day for the love he bore her.
Rachel's feelings are not thought worthy
to be mentioned in holy writ, but if her
love was like Dora's 'every day seemed
seven years. And here, in a nut shell,
lies the difference between a I man's love
and a woman's.
Jacob had the sheep to mind, and he
did mind them uncommonly well. Joe
went to seek his fortune in new scenes,
and only thought of Dora when he had
nothing else to do. The poet thought
he had set a hard task to men when he
said :
"Learn to labor and to wait;"
But it is immeasurably harder to be idle
than to wait.
Till her lover went away Dora had
never cared to ask herself whether she
were a child or a woman. Sunshine had
been plenty with her, and she had
eagerly sugared and gilded the plain
thiugs that farm life afforded to her.
Before the first year came ; to an end
she felt that she would soon arrive at a
patriarchal age if she did not do some
thing to kill the time which died so hard
on her hands.
"Teach school! I guess not," said her
father, when she broached her plan to
him. "You ain't starvin yet; and if you
want some new furbelows just say so,
and not come at it slantin' ways like
that."
"I don't want anything, father; but
there Is so little to do at home."
"Nonsense! In my time gals was al
ways full of business. Can't you make
sheets and pillow cases and get ready to
bo married? Who knows but some
body '11 ask ye one of these days?"
"Waal, waal. folks can't always have
their 'd fathers in this worJd. I ain't
willin' and that's the end on't."
But this was not the end on't, and
Dora easily obtained a school. She de
veloped a governing talent which
charmed the committee-men, and the
congenial labor in the company of little
children took her out of herself and in
fused new life into her hope deferred.
Every week she walked to the post
office, three miles away, to ask for a let
ter, going in with a bright flush on
either cheek, and coming out pale and
dull eyed after the stab of disappoint
ment. I wonder that people in the coun
try are so anxious to be postmasters; if
they only knew it, they are actors in
more tragedies than any member of a
theatrical stock company. Much sealed
happiness passes through their hands;
but they have to refuse many a
"Mariana in the Moated Grange"
weary women who reach a hand out of
their dull lives for a letter and draw it
back empty.
It was far into the second year before
Joe's first letter came. It was surely a
fanciful and foolish thing for a school
mistress to do, but Dora carried it to her
own little room, and put on the red dress
before she red Joe's letter.
Joe was working the mines in Colo
rado. His luck had not yet come, in
nuggets at. least, but hard work and
sober living were slowly giving him the
advantage over other miners. He was
never so well, and he loved her better
than all the world.
Dora lived on this letter for many
weeks, and she set "Colorado" for a copy
so of ten to her scholars that they will
write that word better than any other in
their dying da. j
Letters came oftener as years drew on;
sometimes Joe was up in the world,
sometimes down; once his carefully
hoarded gold was stolen from him and
he had to begin all over again; but this
was nothiner to a long illness, in which a
friend wrote to Dora as soon as Joe was
out of dancrer. Then Dora envied the
doves their wings.
New Year's day was the hardest of all
to bear; She oould not help a strong
pressure of excitement when she put on
the red dress, which grew more and moro
old-fashioned, and watched the sun go
down on the road which Joe must travel
when he comes home. The next morn
ing she fitted her shoulders sadly to the
burden of another year.
One young farmer after another found
his way to the old farm house on Sunday
evenings, and Dora pushed them down
the inclined plane of discouragement so
gt ntly that they scarcely knew whether
thev wanted to court her or not. It was
not the least of her trials to meet the
entreaties "of her mother and the rough
arguments of her father, when one or
two more persistent suitors would take
nothing less than "no" for their answer
Dora could cive no reasons for con
tinued refusals to marry, only she loved
no one well enough a reason which
should be all sufficient if parents re
mained immortally voung. but it loses
ft w -
weight after sixty.
As the seventh year came to a close,
Dora's heart' be it light in her. Joe had
mentioned seven years, as if ho meant to
come home then at any rate. one wore
out the first day of the "glad New Year"
with busy cares till late in theaiternoon,
when an old man, spent with much
walking stopped to rest himself in the
farm house kitchen. Prudence bestirred
herself to give him a hearty luncheon,
and when he was warmed and fed he be
gan to talk of his travels. He had been
seeking his fortune all over the West,
and never finding it had comeback to die
at home. He mentioned Colorado and
Denver, and when Dora found herself
alone with him for a moment, sho said:
"Did you ever see Joseph Raymond in
Denver?"
"Joe Raymond? Oh, yes! knew him
well; lived with him nigh on to a month.
His wife was a real good cook; couldn t
bo beat out there.
"You say he was married?"
"To be sure; a right smart feller, and
mighty fond of his wife. Wmien are
scUtce in them parts."
Prudence came in, and the old man
went on his way, all unconsconscious of
the great stone be had cast into the still
waves of Dora's heart.
"What's the matter?" said Prudence.
"vou're as white as a sheet."i
Dora's only answer was to start out of
the house and run, as for her life, down
the frozen orchard path by which she 1
could grain upon and overtake this terri- I
blf old man. She micrht have said. -with
with the "holy Herbert:
"My tbo'ts are all a ca&e of knives,
Woun line my heart
Witi scattered em art."
Only misery must have time to crystal -ize
into a memory before it takes the
form of poetry. She stood before the
old man at the turning, bearheaded and
breathless:
"How did the Joe Raymond look that
you lived with?" gasped Dora.
"I never said Joe Raymond,' " said
the old man, peevishly; "I "said Jim
Joe, who" but Dora was off again before
he could finish the sentence.
She ran back through the orchard,
giving thanks with all her heart that she
had not suffered herself to be persuaded
of Joe's faithlessness on one hearing.
Her feeling of grateful awe, as if she had
escaped from sudden death, kept her
from mourning much over the passing
away of the seventh anniversary of Joe's
departure, with no sign of his return.
His letters had wholly ceased, and
there was nothing left for Dora but to
possess her soul in patience. When an
other New Year dawned upon her, she
put on the old red dress more from habit
than any gleam of hope in her heart, and
did not care to look in the glass. In the
twilight she walked slowly down the
orchard path, and leaned on the gate
that opened into the road.
Suddenly a man sprang ont from be
hind the wall.
"Theodora, my gi of God!" he said;
and Dora, though she recognized no
mark of the lover who had left her eight
years before, felt that no other knew that
pass word, and suffered herself to rest
silently in his arms, in the ineffable
content that comes after long waiting.
When Joe and Dora went into the
house, and she looked at him by candle
light her heart almost misgave her; his
luxuriant beard and the manly assurance
of his manners were not at all like her
Joe of beloved memory, and a terrible
barrier seenred to rise up between them,
while Prudence remained in the room
with her company manners, which sat
more awkwardly upon her Sunday gown.
When Dora tiptoed softly "by her
sister's door at a very late hour that
night. Prudence was lying awake for
her. "Don't tell me," she said, "that
you've been waiting 'for Joe Raymond
all this time!"
"I won't tell you if yon don't want to
hear it," said Dora.
"Do you know whether he came home
any better off than when he went away?"
"I really haven't thought to ask him,"
said Dora, carelessly.
Prudence groaned and turned her
face to the wall.
Joe waited only till the next day to
tell Mrs. Hall the story of his success,
which looked very moderate in his trav
eled eyes, but seemed a noble fortune to
her homely ideas.
"I never thought before," said Dora's
father at the wedding, "that a woman
could keep a secret, and I guess it ain't
much more common than snow in dog
days."
"How long would you have waited for
me? whispered Joe in Dora s ear.
"Forever," said Dora, solemnly.
And Mrs Prndence Hall, as she over
heard the word, thanked her stars that
Dora's foolish notions had not wrecked
her at last on a poverty-stricken mar
riage.
Marry lPg a Rich Han's Daughter.
Howard Carroll is the author of the
long biograahical articles about living
men, which have been so much read and
copied from the New York Times, being
personal studies of Horatio Seymour,
Hannibal Hamlin, Simon Cameron,
Alien u. xuurnisn and others, lie is a
A mi w
brisk, cheery young fellow, hardly thirty
years old. He married the interesting
daughter of John M. Starin, the steam
boat owner, who was also a freight con
tractor for tugging everything for the
Hudson River Railroad. After marry
ing, Carroll went to Europe with his
bride for six months and had a good rest,
spending his leisure with Consul Pack
ard and with Campanini, the singer, who
is about thirty-six years old. is worth
6250,000 made by singing, has quite a
domestic wife, who goes everywhere with
him, and is regarded as the principal
man in all his portion of the country, the
only one there who drives a pair of
horses to his carriage.
I said to Carroll: "Wnat are you do
ing now?
"Well, said he, "l am Kept poor
supporting my rich wife. All kinds of
letters are written to me from the news
paper fraternity, demanding pecuniary
assistance on the ground that I am now
just reveling in cold: and when I don't
send it I get a second letter from each
applicant, calling me a pun. Mere is
one saying my fortune has turned my
head -that I am no longer of any ac
count, etc. I wonder if the fellows who
write these letters ever think twice.
When a man marries a girl who has
some problematic fortune to come to her
some years hence, unless her father
should found some public institution
and give his money to that, her marry
ing a poor fellow does not make him
rich, but merely makes her poor. If
she should have some spending money
coming to her. what right has he got to
it? If he would undertake to live upon
it he would be little of a man, it seems
to me. So the fact is. I am doing just
the work I used to do; and I don't think
I have as much spending money as I
had before." Gath in Cincinnati En
quirer.
Willlaui Tecuuisen Sherman.
General Sherman generally feels
pretty lively when he gets among his old
"boys," and they are not in much awe of
him, even if he is at the head of the
army. At Baltimore the other day, one
of them came ud to him. and holding out
his hand, exclaimed:
"Here s one of them old Eighth Mis
souri bummers, General."
"Eighth Missouri; you don t say so?
What in the world are you doiDg here?"
responded the General, warmly.
"There s no hogs about here,uencrai,
said the veteran.
General Sherman looked at him with a
quizzical air and said: "lou boys give
me a great deal of trouble."
And vou gave us a great deal of
trouble, General."
"But I made you fight like thunder,
was the retort ot cue old commanuer,
which raised a laugh.
Another veteran said to the General:
"I have not seen you since you crossed
the Mississippi at Hard Times.
"Were you there? asked the gen
eral.
"Yes, sir."
"Whom were you with?"
"I was in the Commissary's Depart
ment, and your staff rode up nearly
half-starved, and we fed you on pota
toes."
A feeble old soldier, in shaking hands
with the General, remarked that the
bean soup he was then eating was differ
ent'from that they had at Carlisle, "for
here," said he, "you don't have to dive
for the Dean.
"No," said General Sherman, taking a
big mouthful, "this is good.' -
"Been a long time since you ate it be
fore, General?" said another.
"No, was the reply; "I have it every
day at home when I can get it.
The Miner'a Prayer.
Joaquin Miller, has the following in
the Century Magazine for July:
When they had finished the hymn tor
the second time, the man Jrom Maine
grasped the hands of Lazarus and Nut
Crackers and cried out:
"Once moro, boys! Once more! And,
boys, the p nt and mam thing in the
prayin and the singin is tnat uie ma
gits well, of course. But, boys, chip in
a sort o' side prayer for the mine.
ow, all together.
"From Greenland's icy tneo-u-n-t'ins '
Yes, boys, heave it in for the mine, on
the sly, like. Keep her up, now!
'From iDj'y's coral str-a-n',
Where Afric's sunny feo u-n-t'na
lloll down their golden s-a-n'.
Yes,boys,keep weather eye on the mine;
don't cost a cent more, you know, to
come right out flat-footed for the mine, so
that she can't miss in the mornin under
no possible durned circumstances."
A scientist says that every adult person
carries enovgb phosphorus in his body
to make at least 4000 of the ordinary two
cent packages of friction matches. That
is a scientific fact that is of very little
value to a man who comes home in the
night, smashes everything on the bureau
in searching for a match, realizes that all
the 4000 match power phosphorus con
cealed inside of him will not light the
gas.
Birds fljlug- la the IS'IgtiU
One of the phenomena which have
been noticed in connection with the cold
weather of the past four weeks is the
scarcity of some species of birds which
usually make their appearance from, the
1st to the 15th of May. Although in the
milder weather of last month the early
birds came thick and fast, passing on
their way to the north, the tide of migra-
tion has apparently been stayed by the I cide to close the landing depot at Castle
unfavorable weather, which has retarded 1 Garden. We will need & 200 000 in mulr-
o a moll ...II. I
- ncii mo giuHwuj Ycgcwtuwu iu Buiuc
ways. Many of our birds which may be
seen here regnlarly in numbers on cer
tain dates every season have not appear
ed at all, or but few of them have been
seen.
It is well known that flights of birds
oocur quite regularly in autumn before
the storms, and in spring after them. It
is also well known that many birds in
their migrations travel during the night.
resting uuring ine aay. we were pre
a - i a i i r
pared on the rise of the mercury Satur
day evening to note a flight of birds
during the night, and were not disap
pointed. The early hours of the even
ing passed without much having been
heard of the birds, except now and then
the chirp of a warbler, or 4he noise of a
small flock passing overhead.
At eleven o clock, however, bird calls
began to resound high in the air and on
all sides, and from twelve to two in the
morning multitudes of birds were heard
pasing overhead; some low, some so
high that their notes came back like a
faint echo from the darkness. Occa
sionally a flock of warblers or spar
rows would pass, flying so low that
the rustling of their wines could be
heard. Now and then a flock of some
small birds passed high overhead, mak
ing ineir can notes a continuous musi
cal ripple through the night. From the
regions of the upper air, high above all,
came back the tones of the plover and
other shore "birds, all tending towards
the north, This vast multitude of birds
continued to pass throughout the night.
The notes of many, such as the bobo
link, tanagcr, Wilson s thrush and
white-crowned sparrow, were recog
nized ; during a walk Sunday morn
ing these birds and many others
were found in numbers. Those who
wish to observe the smaller land birds,
now on their way to the north, should
be on the alert, for in a few days from
this time very few birds will be found
here, except our summer residents. This
flight of birds, which is probably not
locnl, may extend over the entire portion amount consumed daily, which shows al
of the northern United States, east of the most an equal amount needed for egg
Mississippi, or even further. Countless
millions of biros are now spreading
through these btates, returning from
their wanderings in Southern forests to
their old Homes in the North.
Winder ful Longevity of Our Widows.
The widows of the soldiers and sailors
of the war of 1812 are, fortunately for
themselves and unfortunately for the
public treasury, blessed with marvelous
health and strength. According to the
( latest official reports from Washington,
twenty-six thousand of these interesting
ladies present themselves every three
months before the accredited agents of
the government and draw their pensions
with a precision that shows a high con
dition of financial discipline. Their ages,
individually or collectively, no one of
course will be so nngallant as even to
hint at, but the date of the late war with
Great Britain is pretty rrell back in the
century, and is a more trustworthy
record than even Judge Speir's family
Bible. In the darkness and uncertainty
that develop the pension office at Wash
ington, regarding the possible claims
against the government arising out of
the late war, the roll of the relicts of the
heroes of that patriotic epoch in our his
tory may afford some light and instruc
tion. The total number of killed and
wcuhded in the 1812 fifteen campaigns
was a little more than five thousand. At
the end of seventy years the pension list
of the widows alone outnumbers that of
the casualties by five to one. If the
widows of the veterans of the rebellion
stand by the treasury as patriotically as
those of 1812, the commissioner of pen
sions in 1950 will have a couple of hun
dred thousand of them on their books.
Closing (astle Garden.
"Matters with us have reached a cri
sis," said Superintendent Jackson, of
Castle Garden, yesterday. "We have
no money and no immediate prospects
of getting any, and I Fee nothing for it
but to shut up shop. The Commission
ers of Emigration have had no funds
since the 1st of May. Since then Com
missioner Forest has paid the salaries of
the employes, trusting to the future to
be reimbursed. There are over one hun
dred persons on the pay rolls of Castle
Garden and the Ward's Island institu
tion. We are also in debt about $20,000
for supplies, and on the 1st of July there
will be $5,000 interest due on the loan
on the Ward's Island hospitals. We had
every reason to suppose that the steam
ship companies, which rfre very greatly
benefitted by these institutions, would
be willing to contribute the very mode
rate head tax of fifty cents to maintain
our work. They gave us to understand
that they would do so at our meeting
with their representatives on Monday,
and the sudden announcement of their
refusal was a complete surprise."
"Do you not expect to receive the
$200,000 appropriated for the use of the
Commission by the Legislature?" was
asked.
"No,"said Mr. Jackson. "The appropri
ation bill will not become a law until the
Governor signs it, and that I am afraid
he will not do. The Governor informed
the Commissioners, in conversation, that
it was the sentiment of the Legislature
and his own that the ship companies
should contribute to the support of the
Emigration board, and that he intend
ed to withhold his signature to the bill
until the steamship companies, promise
to pay the very moderate fifty cents head
money for the maintenance of institu
tions which are of inestimable value to
the companies in caring for their passen
gers. But even if the Governor does
sign the bill I think the Board will 1a-
I " - . . .
i ing iQauy necessary repairs, paying our
debts and maintaing the prescnt intnates'
ot the hospitals.
"What is the remedy for the present
state of affairs."
"I can see only one. Let Congress
pass at once tho two bOls before it. This
is the only way to force the steamship
lines to do their duty. The business of
carrying immigrants is enormously
profitable far more so than anybody
outside the steamship offices know ana
these companies shonld be compelled
to contribute this mere pittance for the
expenses of protecting their passengers
from thieves, and caring for them when
sick or destitute.
"Will the closing of the Castle Garden
result in a repetition of the old scenes of t
outrage and robbery upon the poor im-
migrants?"
"There is every reason to believe that
such will be the case. You can easily
see that even if the steamship companies
are so disposed and they can do just as
they choose in the matter they cannot
protect their passengers from the sharp
ers and worse who will infest the piers
of the companies and lay m waitf Jr their
prey. With all the machinery of onr
police force even, we are not always suc
cessful in protecting the enormous
crowds that are coming here now." fN.
Y. Herald.
Inciease of Egg.
The productian of eggs is a thing de
sired by every poultryman, and is one of
the most profitable branches of the poul
try business. Ordinarily every hen will
lay a certain amount of eggs in the year,
but with proper food and cara they will
lay more than if neglected and forced to
search for their own living. The pro
duction of eggs is a great drain on the
hen. During laying time from one and
a half to two ounces-of highly concen
trated food is secreted through the tis
sues every day or every other day. Four
ounces of solid food is the average
proauction ana to supply nourishment
and wastes of the body. To the thinking
mind this is well known, and few per
sons keeping poultry; who have a love
for their feathered flocks,and desirous
of gaining some things by their keeping,
but do feed and care for "them well, ob
tain the best results.
A desirable food for laying hens must
consist of grain in variety, wheat, grass
eeads, oats, barley, corn and buckwheat.
wheat and buckwheat being the best.
But to keep up flesh, muscles and heat.
oats, barley and corn are necessary to
keep them thrifty at all times. Corn
should be used sparingly.particularly iu
summer, as it is too healthy and drying
to blood and j tissues, but with other
grain in cold weather it is desirable and
cheap, and fowls like it much better
than other grain. ,Vegetables and
calceareous matter are absolutely essen
tial to egg production, and fresh meat oc
casionally helps to keep up the "shelling
out. f Poultry Monitor.
An Historic Love Affair.
Says the Easton, Md., Lodger: A
valentine seen by a reporter, which was
sent to a girl in Easton by a youth in
Washington, brings to mind the storv of
a name, and a name of note, in American
history. The name of the sender of the
missive is Return J. Meigs, and the same
Christian name has been in the Meigs
family for several generations. Many
years ago, in ante-revolutionary days,
Jonathan Meigs courted a young lady,
who rejected his addresses. Meigs con
tinued to love the girl, and, though too
proud and sensitive to try a second time
to win her, he determined never to
marry any one else, and to live and die
a bachelor, unless she, of her own
volition, relented. After a few years the
lady did relent, or perhaps got to know
her own heart better, and sent a letter
to her former suitor. Meigs got the let
ter, and found in it only the two words,
"Return Jonathan." It was enough.
Jonathan did return, and made her his
wife. Their i first child was baptised
'Return Jonathan," to commemorate
the brief letter that saved the Meigs
family from extinction; and from tbkt
day to this there has been a Return J.
Meigs in every generation. The sender
of the valentine referred to is the grand
son of Gen. M. C. Meigs, late quarter
master general, now retired.
II (nt to Candidates.
A citizen who lately built himself a
residenee was the other day showing a
friend through it, and when everything
had been noticed and discussed, he
asked:
"Well, do you see anywhere you could
improve it?" ! ,
"Yes, I noticed a bad error right at
the start," was the reply.
"You have no balcony in front."
"But I didn't want one."
"Well, perhaps not, but when you are
running for office and the band comes up
to serenade you and the populace calls
for a speech, you will either have to go
to the roof or come down to the ground
to respond. A balcony is a sort of mid
dle ground just high enough to escape
making pledges, and not too high to
Eromise all sorts of reform. Ought to
ave a balcony, sir regret it if you
don't. Texas Sif tings.
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