10,. -.
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DEVOTED TO NEWS, LITERATURE, AND THE BEST INTERESTS OF OREGON.
VOL... 11.
OREGON CITY, OREGON, THURSDAY, JULY 5, 1S77.
NO. 37.
ir i
mi
f -i
o
THE ENTERPRISE.
A LOCAL NEWSPAPER
FOR THE
r.ruirr, ltutiumn Man ami Fnill I'irt'le
ISSUED EVERY THURSDAY
moritiETOs and y c lzih h eh .
o Official Paper for Clackamas County.
Office: In i:ulrrprl r,iij,Uii;,
One door South of Masonic Building, Main Street.
Trriun of Nubiter!i(ion :
Single Copy, one year, in advance
atuyl. Copy, Mix months, in advance
3-' 50
1 60
Terw r AdrrrtUilli;;.
Trauslent advertiHeiuents, including ail legal
notice. per square of twelve lines, one
week $ 2 50
For each subsequent insertion 100
One Column, cue year 120 00
Half Column, one year o 00
Uuartor Column, one year 40 l0
business Card, one square, cue year 12 DO
SOCIETY NOTICES
OREGON LODGE, No. 3, I. O. O. F.
Meets every Thursday Evening, nt.
7 o clock, in Odd Fellows' Hall,
Main Street. Members of the Order
are Invited to attend.
By order of x. o.
REBECCA DEGREE LODGE. No. 2,
j. v- t.. meets on the Second and yr r
Fourth TnftHday Ereninps of each, month, f j K
iino cioca, in tne uaa renown' Hall. .
Mamberu of the Degree are Invited to'
attend.
FALLS ENCAMPMENT, No. 4,
I. O. O. F.. meets at Odd Fellows' Hall on2 C
the First aud Third Tuesday of each mouth. a$?
Patriarchs in good standing are invited toy X
attend.
MULTNOMAH LODGE, No. 1,
A. T. h A. M., holds its regular coinmunU 51
cations on the First ami Third .Saturdays -
In each month, at 7 o'clock from the th'v-OV
of September to the 20th of March ; and J
1 o'clock from the 20th or March to the ' T
30th of September. Brethren in pood standing are
invited to attend. By order of V. M.
BUSINESS GAUDS.
J. W. NORR1S,
Physician :ml Nurgcon
OKFICfi AND KEMDEXCE :
On Fourth Street, at foot of Cliff Stairwav.
tf
CHARLES KNIGHT,
CANBY. OREGON,
lvliytticimi Ini'jri?4'.
'"Prescriptions carefully filled at short notice.
ja7-tf
PAUL BOYCE, M.D.,
Physician and Misrgcoia,
Oheoon Citt, Oreuon.
Chronic Diseases and Diseases cf Women anil
Children a specialty.
OUice Hour day and night; always ready when
duty calls. auu2.76-tf
DR. JOHN WELCH,
D E N T I s rr .
OFFICE IN OREGON CITY OREGON.
Highest cash price paid for County Orders.
JOHNSON & McCOWN,
.ATTORNEYS and COUNSELORS AT LAW
OREGON CITY, OREGON.
Will practice in all the Courts of the Slate.
Special attention glveu to cases in the United
States Land OtUce at Oregon City. Bapr'72-tf
L. T. BARIN,
ATTOKXKY AT I, AW,
OREGON CITY, OREGON.
Will practice in all the Courts of the State,
uovl, "TS-tf
W. H. HICHFIELD,
luMtllbllNltOtl mIuo '1 (t,
One door Xorth of Pope's Hail,
afAIM HTn OREUU.N CITV, DKKUOX.
An assortment of Watches, Jewelry, and ?
Setll Thomas' Weieht Clocks, all of which VVN
ars warranted to be as represented. t&iiZS
w uepairing done ou short notice; and thankful
for past patronage.
'mI luitl lor County Orler.
JOHN M. BACON,
DIALER IX
tlS
bUUKS, STAilOWliKY,
PICTURE FRAMES. MOILDISG3 AND MISCEL
LANEOUS GOODS,
fit M KM ntl)E TO ItI It.
Orkoom Cm, Obeoon.
ITil the Post Office, Main Street, west sioe.
novl. '75-tf
&
J. R. GOLDSMITH,
Collector and Noliciior.
POIITLAND, OKEGOX.
G"Btst of Teferenccs given. d23-"77
HARDWARE, IRON AND STEEL,
Hubs, Spokes, Rims,
OAK, ASH AND HICKORY PLANK.
SOIlTIIItl P TIIOMl'SOX,
mu31.'76-tf Portland, Oregon.
J. H. SHEPARD,
BOOT A3TI SHOE STOKK,
One door North of Ackenuan Bros,
fc" Boots and Shoes made and repaired as cheap
as tha cheapest. novl. '73 tf
MILLER, CHURCH & CO.
PAY THE HIGHEST PRICE FOR WHEAT.
At all times, at the
OREGON CITY MILLS,
And have on band FEED and FLOUR to sell, at
market rate. Parties desiring Feed must furnish
novl-2 tf
A. C. WALLING'S
Pioneer J5ook ISiiiclery
Pittook's Building, cor. of Stark and Front Sta.,
roilTJLAXn, OKEGOX.
BLANK BOOKS BULED AND BOUND TO ANY
desired pattern. Music BoTks. Magazines,
wapapers. etc., b. und in every variety of stvle
known to the trade. Orders from the country
promptly attended to. novl, '75-tf
OREGON CITY BREWERY.
HUMIIEI .fc 3rA.II:EIt,
.1fjt,in.a P"6"" the above Brewerr, fCY
'"" inform the public that tbey fei.3g)
4aUty pMed U B'ctur ".
OF LAGER BEER
tt"u".S'ab,fln,J nywhere in "the State,
.uucuea and promptly filled.
1
MY MIES LOVE.
A RONDEAU.
O ruby lips, whose Rtaile has stolen my soul.
And drawn from it all love but love of you
Speak kindred longing, absolute and whole.
Swear faith supremely true
O ruby lips !
O southern eyes, whose light baB lit my heart,
And kind lei it to warm and wild desire
Glow with a kindred passion, for your part,
Flame with a kindred fire.
O southern eyes !
O my life's love ! Eyes, lip, hand, heart and soul
Come to me, satibfy me, seal me yours.
Each part is sweet, but ouly lu love's whole
Love's final life endures.
O iuy life's love.
Townseml Slayer, in tinsleys .Vayarinr.
M X Y M EM U I ES .
Swiftly wound the silent river
Where the gras grew deep,
Thronsth the mj-htic bhade and silence
That the wooUluuds keei) ;
Underneath the chestnut strayiug
(Trembling fans o'erheaii).
With the creamy Lljssoms playing.
How my bright hours sped !
As a dreaiu when one awaketh
Seems to me that dsy.
Chestnut blosso;ns, sliding river,
Fairyland of May 1
City walls close in behind me.
Summer joys are o'er ;
Where the sunshine used t'j find me
I shall stray no more.
Other hands will pull the blo:-S'jms,
Cones of piuk and white ;
Mine are woru with daily labr
Tired from morn till iiibt.
Still I muse, but not in sadness.
On those by gone days;
Here my Autumn hath its gladness
Worth a thou -aud Mays 1
from the Leisure Hour.
LITTLE BOBBY.
A SKETCH IN PARIS.
"Well, sir, I am glad to meet you
here," said Mr. ArmsteaJ.
'Ifa, ha! thanks, thanks, thanks" very
ranch, thanks," muttered Mr. Airej in
reply. Mr. Airey had but lately ar
rived in Paris from Bond street, and
Mr. Armstead from I3eacon street. The
Londoner had run against the Bosto
ciau at the corner of the Bno dela Paix.
"Are you going my way ?"' asked Mr.
Airey, lightly.
"1 am at your service, sir," said Mr.
Armstead, with a courteous motion of
the hand. As they moved along the
broad pavement, the Englishman enter
tained Lis friend with a thousand re
marks on men and things. Paris always
loosed hi tongue; for while he tasted
with delight the gaiety and sparkle of
the place, ho found at the same time
much solid food for the moralist. When
he was moralizing, he felt that he was
doisg hi3 duty. And so with sense
gratified and conscience in repose, a
pleasant sun above him, and a good lis
tener by Jus ude, the sprightly gentle
man would comment for hours on the
frivolity of Parisians. When ho had
brought to uu end a nimble discourse
on 'he probable haunts and customs of
a passing petltyras, he found that for the
moment he was without another subject
on which to dilate. So turning to-his
companion, like an amiable social in
quisitor, he asked, "Now, what do you
lind to do with yourself in Paris ?"'
Mr. Armstead, whose share in the
conversation had consisted of occasional
solemn bows -of acknowledment, now
coughed, meditated for some moments,
and then answered slowly and thonght-
Inny, "Well. 1 comedown town ard
walk around."
"But surely," cried the other, "for a
man of your active habits: why, my dear
Colonel Armstead, I "
"Pardon me for interrupting you, but
drop the Colonel, if you idease."
Mr. Airey was vastly astonished. "I
beg your pardon I beg your pardon,"
he said, "but surely why 1 always
thought that yon Americans were par
ticularly fond of military titles."
"Well, sir, wo have had some pretty
serious killing lately, and some of us
do not take quite so humorous a iew
of the profession as we did when it was
confined to Indians and Mexicans."
"But still it is the custom in England
and everywhere for a man who has
served to keep his title. And you, who
were distinguished you surprise me,
you surprise me very much!"
Mr. Armstead acknowledged the com
pliment by bending his head and slight
ly waving his right hand. Aftera pause,
during which his companion watched
him with much curiosity, he said, "It
was found that there was a certain awk
wardness in sending out your sujierior
ofllcer for a bag of nails or a two-cent
stamp."
Mr. Airey felt that like a second Co
lumbus, he had discovered a new Amer
ica. This novel and interesting speci
men must be drawn out, to be afterwards
described and commented upon at all
his clubs. lie assumed an insinuating
manner as he asked the leading question,
"How do you like Paris ?'
Mr. Armstead took time to reply.
"I like it," he said; "but I fear there is
a little too much of the New Englander
in my composition."
"And a capital good thing, too," ob
served the other, encouragingly.
"The Pilgrim Fathers would not have
appeared to advantage on the Boule
vards." "Certainly not. And yet your coun
trymen are, as a rule are they not?
devoted to Taris. You know, of course,
the saying. 'Good Americans, when
they di'e go to Paris,' eh?"
The Bostonian bowed gravely at the
quotation. "Some like it," he said, and
added profoundly, after a pause, "The
American in Paris is too often a Paris
ian hampered by morality."
The Englishman would doubtless
have commented at some length on this
remark; but hi3 eye was at the moment
caught by something which would servo
him even better for a text. Above a
large window, which was modestly cov
ered by musl:n enrtains, appeared the
name and title of Madame Lalonette, ex
premiere do M . Over the name of
the gentleman who had had the honor
of employing Madame Lalonette, a piece
of blank paper was carefully pasted.
"Look! look!" cried Mr. Airey, in
great excitement; "just look at the wo
man's ingenuity. She must have been
threatened with legal proceedings, don't
you see ? So she sticks up that paper,
which blots out the cause of offense,
while it catches every eye and appeals
to every imagination. 'Sophie, my
child,' says one woman, 'of whom was
this Madame Lalonette the premiere?'
'For me I cannot conceive,' says the
other; 'but Madame de Corsaye is sure
to know.' So they rush off to a third
lady, and the milliner is advertised all
over Paris by a single square of blank
paper. It is magnilicenti"
Here Mr. Airey paused for breath,
and was straightway thrilled by the de
lightful consciousness of having been
unusually brilliant.
"I know it," said Mr. Armstead, "M.
Blank is an excruciating mystery to
woman, like the veiled prophet of Kho
rassan." "Ha, ha! capital, capital! and, by
Jove, she is a clever woman! Just look
at that other dodgo!"
"I have observed it," said the Ameri
can. The large window of the ingen
ious artiste was draped with muslin, as
if the mysteries of la mode were sacred
as those of the Bona Dea; but at one
side of the building was placed a tall
sheet of looking-glass, some two feet
wide. While the two friends were gaze
ing at the temple of fashion, the one
bubbled over with remarks on the petty
ingenuity of French women, the other
watched them in silence a3 they passed
that looking-glass. He remembered a
method of snaring birds by like means,
and smiled grimly. One lady just
touched her bonnet in front, another
her braids behind. One stopped and
deliberately arranged the lace at the
throat, another glanced hurriedly at the
glass and then darted across the road in
mute defiance of the observer. Even a
bonnetless working-girl caught a look.as
she slipped back to her work; and a
large nurse, whoso beauty was no more
than health and amiability, shifted her
small burden tenderly, while she had
some fingers on the crisp border, of her
cap. The two gentlemen were still
staring across the street, when a tiny
brougham drove quickly up to the veiled
window.
;'Who is she? Who can she be?"
cried Mr. Airey, and added in a breath,
" Upon my word, remarkably pretty.
One can see in a moment the French
woman of the world grace, elegance,
wit. "
"It is my wife," said Mr. Armstead,
drily.
The Englishman was overwhelmed
with confusion: "I beg your pardon
I beg your pardon; I had no idea,
I "
"Won't you allow me the pleasure
of presenting you to Mrs. Armstead?"'
"Thanks, thanks; delighted, I'm sure.
But do you think we may go in two
men, you know?"
"I am not afraid for myself," said the
Bostonian.
The front room of Madame Lalonette
was tenanted only by gowns, erect upon
wire frames. "Dress-extenders' eh?"
said Mr. Airey. "Average women,"
observed Mr. Armstead; but there was
a twinkle in hi3 eye which softened the
severity of his remark. From an inner
apartment, which was seen through
open folding-doors, came the rattle of
two shrill French voices, one voluble in
the language of the country, tho other
almost equally effective in a mixture of
French and fantastic English. They
were the voices of Madame Lalonette
and of "Mees," so called in the estab
lishment in recognition of her almost
miraculous knowledge of our barbarous
language. Tho double stream of per
suasion, declamation and exclamation
was occasionally interrupted by a third
voice, high but not loud, and with a
very pleasant pronunciation of French.
Evidently the lady was not yet satisfied,
for her tone was a little pathetic. Mr.
Airey hung back in alarm; but Mr.
Armstead. courteously waving him for
ward, stalked through the open doors
with the unruffled calm of a red Indian.
"Prudence," he said, "will you permit
me to present to you my friend, Mr.
Airey?"
"I am afraid. I really am awfnllv
afraid that I am intruding here," said tho
polite Lnglisliman.
"Why, no," said tho lady, with a
slight delay on each word to emphasize
ner negative; ana sue aaaea, you can
help me to choose a winter jacket. Do
you like that?" and she pointed to a
garment, which was floating up and
down the room on a most elegant young
person, who had risen in life by tho re
markable fall in her back.
"Charming, charming! upon my
word, exceedingly pretty:
"Which do you mean?" asked the'
lady, demurely. Mr. Airey was de
lighted. These little American women
have so much self-possession and so
much spirit. They are so friendly with
out being fast. His heart warmed to
her. as it does to all pretty women. He
enjoys their society, as ho delights in
Paris. In their presence he feels him
self kindled to wit; when they are gone
ho will moralize on them by the hour
He is ever ready "to break a compari
son or two" on a charming lady. "It
must be a strange life," he observed.
lowering his voice, "this sweeping up
and down and bending of the body un
der other people s jackets.
"My figure i3 my fortune," remarked
Mr. Armstead, who was standing very
upright by his wife, and staring at the
gliding garment.
"Why it must bo delightful .'"exclaim
ed Mrs. Armstead. "Only fancy being
always sure to have on the very latest
thing!" . ,
"f!nn.l crracious! how frivolous!"
thousrht Mr. Airey.
"It is evident that I must go to my
banker's," said the lady's husband,
"Shall I have the pleasure of your com
pany, sir, or do you remain among the
iacVpta?"
The lady looked an invitation prettily.
tily. ,.
"How charming!" thought Mr. Airey;
aud he sail, "I think, if Mrs. Arm
stead will allow me, I will stop and put
her into her carriage." The lady
smiled, and her husband stalked off
alone to his banker. The Englishman
now bloomed into talk with so much
sprightliness and vivacity, that Madame
1
Lalonette was l-educed to a fixed smile
of appreciation, and Mees could no
longer display Lor ; unique power of
language. Mrs. Armstead rewarded her
cavalier with occasional smiles and
nods, while she gave her undivided at
tention to the business before her. She
liked a prattle at her ear, and had the
rare gift of seeming to understand it.
Having finally decided how the jacket
was to be cut, how it was to be deco
rated and what it was to cost, she' be
came light-hearted, and for conversa
tion's sake began to babble of her
doubts. She wondered if she had
chosen right. Did he think that the
shape would go wil the latest gowns?
Was it too heavy 'f'Vas it not too light?
Would it be very becoming? To all
these questions she waited for no ans
wer; but stepped daintily into her
brougham. Then she gave the gentle
man some fingers, beautifully gloved,
through tho window, and said smiling,
"I have half a mind to go back and
countermand it. Would you bo so
good as to tell me the time. Thank you
so much. How late! And I have for
gotten little Bobby's medicine again. I
guess I won't go back about the jacket.
Home!" Thereupon she was swept
away, leaving Mr. Airey with his hat in
his hand, llo stood holding his hat
and staring after the carriage, until a
fat French lady of fashion pushed him
off the pavement, while her little darl
ing of a dog ran between his legs.
Having unwound himself from the ani
mals chain, and murmured an apology
to its owner, Mr. Airey put on his hat
and heaved a sigh. "I have forgotten
little Bobby's medicine again!" he re
peated, as ho moved away. "And they
talk of the frivolty of French women!
Poor little Bobby!" This moralist has
a tender heart, aud delights to exercise
it. Pathetic were the pictures he con
jured up of the little innocent. He
thought of Tiny Tim and little Paul
Dombey. He fancied the sick child
lying like a faded flower on his small
bed, and lisping blessings on his moth
er, whose whole mind was concentrated
on the choice of a winter jacket. She
had forgotten the medicine again! How
often had she forgotten it? Perhaps for
months that blighted chtld had leen
sighing for the lively tonic, or the dark
brown codliver oil, but tho hand that
should have administered the draught,
whilst its fellow smoothed the pillow of
the sufferer, was poising bonnets or fin
gering fringes. Perhaps at that very
moment poor little Bobby was lookiner
his last look into his mother's eyes and
whispering, ".Never mind, motuev. it s
too late. I shan't want the physic now.
Yon may tako it all yourself." "But
this is weakness," eaid Mr. Airey to
himself, as he found the tears in his
eyes. He went home like a man bent
on discharging a duy. and springing
light as a French thinker from the par
ticular to tho general, wrote in his
diary, "American women have even less
feeling than Parisian."
A week passed, and Mr. Airey had
not called upon his Boston, acquaint
ances. It was no small sacrifice. Had
any one ever told him that he was in
love with a married woman, his neatly
arranged hair would have risen and be
trayed the thin places. Nevertheless,
ou some of those platforms which in
countless number lie between the abyss
of love and the height of sublime indif
ference, the estimable gentleman moved
with ease and grace. The pleasure which
he felt in the society of a charming wo
man was, to some extent, unlike that
which he derived from the.conversation
of his maiden aunt or his former tutor.
The unlike element, whatever it ruay
be, never troubled his conscience; but
when he was forced to disapprove of an
attractive woman, he manfully resisted
his inclination for her company. He
resisted his tendency to call upon the
Armsteads for a full week. "Unmoth
ered mothered heartless, pitiless!" he
frequently repeated to himself, recall
ing the words of Telemachus, and
thereby raising himself to a heroic ele
vation. Yet ho was decidedly bored.
He had walked daily on the Boulevard
des Capucines, the Rue de la Paix, the
Eue de Rivoliand the Champs Elysees.
He had stared into all tho chocolate
shops, and gaped at tie allegorical
works of liubens in the Louvre. He
had moralized before the ruins of the
Tuileries, and had scanned with appro
val that costly triumph of indigestible
gingerbread, distant cousin of our own
Albert Memorial, the new Opera House,
He had laughed under protest at M.
Lecocq's last opera, and stared with
blank amazement at the newest social
problem of M. Dumas a problem on
tho immediate solution of which tho ex
istence of society evidently depended,
while he and the majority of mankind
had been completely ignorant of its ex
istence. Mr. Airey was bored; but
still he would not yield. It is strange,
if we consider his fixed determination,
that he remembered the Armsteads'
number so clearly; yet more strange
that on the eighth day after their former
meeting he had his hand on the bell of
their apartment. Perhaps he went to
moralize, perhaps to offer medicine.
The door was opened by a French maid,
who was crying in a most becoming
fashion. The visitor's imagination was
aroused. "Is it Bobby?" he gasped.
She nodded prettily. She could not
speak for weeping. She led the way
into the first room; and after a momeot't
hesitation he followed her. The sight
which he beheld was indeed surprising.
On the table stood a bottle of physic,
and by it the most delicate of sweet
breads un tasted. Mr. Armstead, his
somewhat rugged face softened by emo
tion, was bending like a breach-loader
with the charge withdrawn, over a com
fortable sofa. Opposite to him was his
wife, who had sunk upon the floor, and
with tears pouring down her cheeks
was soothing the little sufferer. The
little sufferer! Between husband and
wife, propped by the softest pillows,
draped by the softest shawls, important
and deeply conscious of hi3 importance,
reclined the prince of pugs. Mr. Arm
stead came forward. "How do you do,
sir?" he said, "I hoped that you were
the physician. Have you any acquaint
COURTESY OF BANCROFT LIBRARY,
ance with the maladies of dogs?" "None,
whatever," said Mr. Airey, tartly; "and,
indeed, I am glad to see that you can
interest yourself in a dog at such a mo
ment." "At such a moment." repeated
the other, slowly. "When little Bob
by," began the Englishman, visibly af
fected. "Why, this is little Bobby."
At the sound of hi3 name, uttered in
that measured tone which he knew so
well, the sufferer turned a plaintiff eyo
upon the intruder. "Behold how the
great minded suffer," lie seemed to say.
His skin was so loose, that it would
have been well had an accomplished
workwoman gathered it in at his waist.
His coat was starry, and bis tail, that
sign of his nobility, uncurled. The
lines about his ebon visage were deep
ened by illness. The face told of suf
fering, but of a certain pride in the in
terest which it excited. The large dark
eye was turned upon Mr. Airey, but
awoke no pity in his breast. That he
should have expended a whole week's
sentiment upon a sick dog! As well sit
down in the ditch with tbo great Mr.
Sterne to lament over a dead donkey.
"I think I had better go," said the mor
alist, with a glance at Mrs. Armstead.
"I am afraid that my wife is not equal
to conversation at present. I trust that
we shall have tho pleasure of seeing
you under happier circumstances."
"Ah, thanks, I'm sure, ah," murmured
the visitor, and he glanced again at the
lady. She was wholly unconscious of
his presence. She was holding the limp
right hand of the patient in her own,
aud was bathing it with her tears. Mr.
Airey departed abruptly.
The nex morning, as the moralist was
toying with his breakfast, and meditat
ing fitfully on the New England charac
ter, a curious note was brought to him.
It was shaped like a fan. He opened it
with a sniff of scorn. "Another novel
ty!" he exclaimed testily. "Our mus
tard pots are made like beer-jugs; we
shall soon have beer-jugs in the shape
of baths, and baths disguised as hansom
cabs. He spread out the sham fan, and
read the nimble-pointed characters:
"Dear Mr. Airey: How you must
have wondered at my strange conduct
yesterday! I was in the deepest de
spair, and quite unfit to receive any
bndif. To-day all looks bright again.
Tho dear doctor came soon after you
left. He is reckoned very clever, and
attends the dogs of tho best people in
Paris of all parties. The favorite hound
of the Due d'Aumerle. la Marquise de
Baldefee's famous spaniels (of course
you remember M. Casimir's brilliant
mot,) and M. Baretta's new voodle Fra
ternite, are among his patients. He
says that our little Bobby has no seri
ous malady, but recommends a warmer
climate. So we start at once for the
South, aud shall winter at Nice. I
should prefer the Nile, but hear that
the boats are so irritating for dogs.
Will you do me a great favor, and send
me some cleansing tablets when you go
back to London? I would not trouble
you, but they are invaluable for Bob
by's skin. My husband is in despair at
having to leave without returning your
visit. Perhaps we may meet somewhere
in the South.
"Very cordially yours,
"Prudence Armstead."
"I buy tablets for that cur!" cried
Mr. Airey. "Well, I suppose I shall,"
he added. He could eat no more break
fast. He took down his diary, and
wrote in it with the air of one who ful
fills an important duty "American wo
men are absurdly over-sensitive."
Dlacktrond's Magazine.
A New Process in Sugjar Maying.
It is stated that a new process for
clarifying cane juice without tho U3e of
lime has been successfully tried by Mr.
Eastes, tho inventor, at the mill of Mr.
Dart, of Indooroopilly, in Queensland.
The principles of the process have not
yet been divulged. The canes are, how
ever, ground in the usual manner, and
the juice allowed to run in tho clari ti
ers; here Mr. Eastes' operations com
mence, tho invention consisting iu the
treatment of the cane juice with certain
chemicals which materially alter the
color and viscosity of tho liquor, the in
crease of the quantity of molasses at
tendant upon the use of lime being
avoided. At the trials the freedom of
the liquor from gltitinous matter was
particularly noticed, tho liquor feeling
quite warm to tho hand. "When the
liquor ran from the clarifying box to
the cleaning battc-ry, it boiled with a
clear white foam upon it, and scarcely
any skimming tools place. Less steam
was needed for boiling in tho vacuum
pan. In a report given by the Queens
lander it is stated that a perfect crystal
of large size was formed, and that" had
there been sufficient liquor to fill the pan
the crystals would have been of an unu
sually large size. The curing was soon
disposed of, tho liquor not molasses
running away to the tank after leaving a
basket of 1,788 pounds of beautiful
clear white sugar perfectly dry in three
minutes. It is also stated that tho green
tinge of the sugar as ordinarily made
from the same cane is entirely removed.
The density of the liquor was ten deg.
Beaurue. It has been suggested that
tho clarifying agent is hypochlorite of
sulphur, but Mr. Eastes asserts it to be
perfectly innocuous, and that it might
be partaken of in the form in which it is
employed; it is also stated that there is
no probability of the sugar deliquesc
ing. One of the most important points
is that the liquor running from the
vacuum pans as a vehicle for the sugar is
not molasses, but purely crystal lizable
liquor, which requires no further clari
fication, andean be returned, afte"r heat
ing, to the pau, where it is entirely con
verted into sugar equal to the first, and
not, according to the Queenslandcr, a
particle of molasses made. If the re
ports upon this process are true and at
present we have no reason to doubt
them Mr. Eastes' invention is one
which will largely revolutionize the
manufacture of sugar.
Not many women are blacksmiths,
but most of them can "shoo" a hen.
f
The Sweet Potato.
The value of this crop is scarcely ap
preciated. On light lands it is one of
the surest and most profitable crops that
can be grown. Lands of that descrip
tion which will produce fifteen bushels
of corn, may besafely counted ou for a
hundred bushels of potatoes, and the
same manuring which would increase
the crop of corn on such lands to twenty-five
bushela would secure a crop of
two hundred bushels of potatoes. We
havo known crops in East Alabama
which were said to amount to four hun
dred bushels, grown on lands which
would not, with similar manuring and
cultivation, have produced nioro than
twenty-five bushels of corn. It would
not be extravagant to estimate an aver
ago production of ten bushels of pota
toes for one of corn, with tho same at
tention bestowed on the two crops.
Since the first day of last October sweet
potatoes have sold in the Montgomery
market at an average price of seventy
five cents a bushel, and allowing just
half the difference above estimated, say
five bushels of potatoes to one of corn,
this would be an equivalent to $3.75 per
bushel for corn. Estimating the feed
ing value of the potato as one-third that
of corn, an acre of the former would be
worth about as much as two acres of the
latter.
Another recommendation of the pota
to is that instead of exhausting, it is a
renovator of the soil. The vines, which
are returned to the soil, constitutes
nine-tenths of the crop, and as fully
ninety-five per cent, of the product is
derived from the atmosphere, it is man
ifest that the potato crop returns many
fold more to the soil than is removed in
the roots. Every one who has tried it
knows that a crop of any sort grown af
ter potatoes is much improved by it.
We have known the same piece of land
cultivated for ten year3 in potatoes
without any perceptible diminution in
the crop. For this reason it is one of
the best crops that can be grown in
orchards. For this purpose it has the
double advantage of enriching the soil
and furnishing good feed to hogs,
which in rooting after the potatoes left
in the ground, subsoil the land and de
stroy any grubs that prey upon the fruit
trees.
Besides the excellent and abundant
food which it supplies to the tble, the
potato is an economical feed for stock of
every description. Hogs, cows and
horses are all fond of them, and steamed,
they are not only perfectly wholesome
but nutritious. This is the season for
startinor a crop, and we bespeak for them
a liberal share of the farmer's attention.
Southern Plantation.
Ploughing or Burning. The time
was when it was thought that every
thing on the top of the ground should
be ploughed under, and that a crop of
weeds, grass and dilapidated cornstnlks
would materially benefit the soil. That
they possess some value is an admitted
fact, and if turned under in the fall
season, so that they will rot by spring,
are of some advantage to the soil; but
should they remain until spring they
should be burned. The insect world is
possessed with wonderful powers of
multiplication, and we know of no
method equal to good burning to destroy
them. In the early settlement of the
country, when the prairies were burned
regularly every year, many insects now
common and injurious were unknown.
We think we can in a very great meas
ure attribute thejr absence to these fires.
Lands thus cleared are more easily cul
tivated than those not so treated. Many
noxious seeds are destroyed and farm
implements do their work much more
perfectly than when they aro dragging
through great masses of weeds and
grass. These considerations induce' us
to advise the burning over of fields be
fore plowing, and we believe all doing
so will be pleased with tho experiment.
Journal of Agriculture.
Weaning Colts. A Vermont farmer
says he weaned a last spring colt in the
following manner: I fed grain or meal
to the mare when the colt was with her.
The colt soon learned to eat meal with
the dam. After he has been taught to
eat with the mare he will eat as readily
when he is removed from her. I put
my colt in a stable where he could have
plenty of exercise in a large yard; fed
u: rn. 1 ji 1 " .. , ...
liim iiu uuyunu uran mixea witn miiK,
which I soon taught him to drink with
out the bran. I weaned him from the
mare when he was three months old ; he
seemed contented, aud I think did as
well as though he had run with the
mare two months lonsrer. It is much
better for the mare, and more conve
nient if one wants to use her, as most
people do in the country, while the colt
is witn ner. inis way of weaning colts
is very convenient, and one can feed
milk at such times as seem judicious,
substituting grain or shorts for milk at
any reasonable time.
Mb. King knew relatives who left
farms and went to town, some of them
with families of children, and they suf
fered by the change, lost much of their
peace of mind, their happiness. He
likes to see the father spending his de
clining years upon the homestead,
where his children and grandchildren
my come back to visit him. Western
.Aeo York Farmers' Club.
Mr. Henry C. Blair says the United
States is in exactly the same position
Turkey is. This may all be so. But
it's still safe in tho rural districts of this
country for a- Christian young man to
take his girl home from singing school
at 10 p. it. without having her ears cut
off by a Bashi-Bazonk, and that's more
than can be said of Turkey. Com. Adv.
Twenty girls living in Utica have been
arrested for blowing horns liefore the
door of a new married couple. The
Judge spoke of it as "the shockibgest
kind of depraved depravity."
Even if a boy is always whistling, "I
want to be an angel," it is just as well
to keep the preserved pears on the top
shelf of the pantry.
The Morulas After Moving.
Well, I do believe FU never move
again as long as I live.
Where is that fifth joint of stovepipe?
I knowitcani6, for I put it in tho wagon
myself.
We'll have to get a border for that
back bedroom carpet, and then it will
be as much as ever if it will be big
enough.
But where the dueeo did you put the
knives? I can find everything but a
knife.
Well, I think we ought to be thank
ful that it didn't rain. I didn't care so
that the things didn't get wet.
It's hard work, but we're going to
look real nice when we get fixed up.
Did you notice those people that
moved in next door?
Next time I'd get a man that wouldn't
break every thing to pieoes that he
touched.
I told you to carry that mirror in your
hands. You might havo known how
'twould be.
I just felt real lonesome when I went
back to look at the old house.
I do hope tho-io new people will treat
the old cat well.
Don't fret; you'll find it after a v. hile.
We always think we've lost something,
and it always turns up when v e come
to unpack.
Oh, that's just liko pa. He jammed
my slipper in the cake box.
What did you dream last night?
Go round "and order some coal now
the first thirg you do.
And have the gas turned on, too. I'm
not going to work by tallow candles
another night.
Do hunt up the castors to the bed
stead. Let's get one room furnished
anyway.
Well, of all the dirty people I ever
saw! I'd be ashamed to leavo a house
in such a condition! Ugh!
Ma, see these two bottles I found in
the closet! "Bloom of Youth," and
"Harrington's Hair Dye!" ."Throw the
nasty things away. I knew that wo
man used hair dye by the back of her
head! Stop! You may save the dye."
Errors in Marriage. Many people
think they have made a mistake in mar
riage, whu their mistake is only in
their behavior since they were married
Good husbands make good wives, and
good wives make good husbands; and
the scolding and intemperate, or slat
ternly partner often has bimelf to
blame for the misery that cloud the
life and desolates the home. Multi
tudes wlio feel that their marriaere was
a mistake and who make their existence
a life-long miry. might, by a little
p.elf-deninl. and patience, and forbear
ance, and trentleness. the old-time
courtesy, make thir horn' brighten
like the gat"8 of Eden, and bnng back
again the old love that ble"ed the happy
rrnhl&n rJnvs (mne 1)V. SnPPOSO the wife
does not know quite a much as yon do;
well, you snowed your very great jung
ment when you thought her chief
omrai rr fin lirmnnnrl . Or. if VOUr hus-
band is not the most wonderful man in
the world, it simply illustrates the wit
and wisdom of the young woman who
once thought he was, and could not be
convinced to the contrary. So, per
haps, you are not so unevenly mated
after all; and if one has had better op
portunities since marriage, then of
course tuat one snouid teacu ana cuiu-
rof-A nn1 n C mi rner a thfl other, and SO
both journey on together. Hall's Health
Journal.
"The wide-spread-fallacy that, if per
sons are able to live without work, it is
their right and privilege to lead an in
active life, is an error as fatal in its ef
fects on health as it is fallacious in
principle. Men of light occupations,
and women whoso circumstances do not
compel them to work, a great majority
of whom neglect physical exercise,
thereby become so deficient in muscu
lar development as to be weak, delicate,
and sickly ever the prey to nervous
ness, dyspepsia and that long train of
chronic diseases that afflict the human
race. "Wo pity their condition, because,
for the most part, the evils they suffer
are brought on by ignorance of the
laws of their being. To place our
selves on good terms with such, we
will not now blame them for what, per
haps, might be called culpable ignor
ance, but good-naturedly address our
selves to the task of removing from
their minds the veil ..of ignorance that
has caused all the ills which scourge
them." Phrenological Jotrnal.
Social Life. Any great movement
for good in social life begins at home.
It begins with fathers and mothers.
The first and highest duty is to make
home cheerful and attractive. Husband
and wife must do this for each other.
Without this their mutual affection will,
dry up. If they have children, it is
their duty to make home sweet and
precious to them. Children with good
homes seldom go to the bad. Girls
who have learned to trust their mother,
in their whole round of thought, sel
dom get talked about. Boys who are
made to feel the strength of a father's
and the tenderness of a mother's love,
seldom run wild. Their natural love of
fun and mischief does not bind them
over to the devil's service. Pleasant,
cheerful and bright homes, then, are
the great demand. They may be poor,
but they can still be pleasant and at
tractive and good. The heart and spirit
are more than furniture and dwelling.
As soon as the publishers of religious
weeklies discontinued soliciting sub
scribers for chromos, and throwing in
their publications as an inducement to
subscribe, the circulation of their pa
pers Ml off fifty per cent. This speaks
well for th art taste of American peo
ple. Korriklcncn Herald.
My experience in rdantinc p.nm ha.
been that more can be raised per acre
wnere tnere is but ono stalk in the hill
than where there were six; better two
than five: three than fonr? thai: ia thr
stalks per hill give the beat yield.
jrraine f armer.
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