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About Oregon City enterprise. (Oregon City, Or.) 1871-188? | View Entire Issue (April 11, 1878)
?! : ; CiO if v " - DEVOTED TO NEWS, LITERATURE, AND THE BEST INTERESTS OF OREGON. TQL. XII. OREGON CITY, OREGON, THURSDAY, APRIL 11, 1878. NO. 25. v. x ' W Is i k i . -V ii THE ENTERPRISE. A LOCAL NEWSPAPER' " T O X T H K "rir , Bailneu M nn and Family Circle ISSUED E V KB X TflfRSDAI. FSOHIITOB A'D fCSUIBIU. O5oiol Paper for Clackamas County. Office: lu Xluterprlse Bulldtus:, On door South of Masonic Bulldinjr, Main Street. Trms ofAuburliitlua: Single Copy, one year, in advanoe Single Copy, aix months. In advance t i 50 1 SO Tvrata efAdttrtltlac Transient advertisements, including all legal notices, per square of twelve lints, one wenk $ 2 K) 1'or each aubaequent insertion 1 00 One Column, one year 1U0 00 Half Column, one year Co 00 Quarter Column, one year 40 00 Maalnese Card, one square, one year 12 00 SOCIETY NOTICES. OREGON LODGE, No. 3, I. O. O. F Meet every Thursday Evening, tv, 7H o'clock, in Odd iellowa' Hall. mbiu 9trco(, iueuiuem oi me urutji, ire Invited to AtU-x.J. Byoulerof N. G. REBECCA DEGREE LODGE, No. 2, v. v. r., meets on tne Fourth Tuuhdnv Kvliim nr Second and 7tTY' r each mouth, B j 'ellowH Hall. Jlj" mt 7S o'clock. In tha n.l.l p- Members of the Decree are Invited to FALLS ENCAMPMENT, No. 4, . v. j. jr., meet, at Odd Fellows' Hall odQ (A the First and Third Tueadav of moh Patriarchs in good standing are invited to MULTNOMAH LODGE, No. 1, . m . m a. ii.. noius its regular couimuui Mtlona on the First nrl Thir.i tt,i..- in each month, at 7 o'clock from the authY or September to the "80th of March? and H o'clock from the Stith of March to the ' 50th of September, invited to attend. Brethren in ood standing are uy order or W. M. BUSINESS CARDS WARREN N. DAVIS, M. D., f'bysieiaii auel Snrgcoaa, Graduate of the University of Pennsylvania. Or rice at Clii-f Hovub. CHARLES KM! CUT, CANDY, ORKOOS, I'liysiclaii and Druggis!. tW'Pnacrlptions carefully flllod at short notice, jaf-tf DR. JOHN WELCH, DENTIST. OJriCK IX OREGON CITY, OREGON. Highest cash price paid for County Orders. E. L. EASTH AEV1, 1TTO It E Y -AT- H A W, OBEGON CITT, OREGON. Special attuntion given to busincsa in the U. S. Land Office. Office in Myer'a Brick. JOHNSON & McCOVN, ATTORNEYS ani COUNSELORS AT LAW OREUON CICY, OREGON. Will practice in all the Court of the State. Special attention given to cast in tlie United states Land OlDce at Oregon City. 5apr 7J-tf BLANKS Or EVERY DESCRIPTION FOR Sale at thisofiice. Justices of the Vteace can gl anytniag in their line. . r. wabd, eaoBoa a. babdiso. WARD &l HARDING, IBS, T7"EEP CONSTANTLY ON HAND A GENERAL IV. assortment of Drugs ami Clieutieals, Prranrr.r, Noaiu, Comb, and liraabra. Xrnura, Nnnporlt, SbenlttrrBrart, I'anrT and 'J'ollrs Arlirlci, ALSO Merotene Oil. Lamp ST'Iiimnev. Wlaee. It'ult.T. Iainte, oil.. VaraJtbci u fl M Nlnd't PURE WW AND LIQUORS FOR MEDICINAL PURPOSES. PATENT MEDICINES, ETC, ETC kl Physicians" Prescriptiona carefully com peunded, and all orders correctly answered. K Open at all hours of the night. All accounts must be pnid monthly. Bovl,l73tf Willi) t UAIIDING. W. H. HIGHFIELD, Llslabllslictl slnoo 4U, Ojue door North of Pope a Hall, MAIS ST.. OKKUOV tITY, OittlUON. Aa assortment of Watches, Jewelry, and eu xuumas m eigne Clocks, all or -which are trttTintl t.S l.A VAnVAaAn..t 7R. pairing done on abort notice; and thaujtiui ftr past patronage. Castti Paid tor County Orders. JOHN M. BACON, BOOKS, STATIONERY, PICTCRS VRAMES. 1IOCLDING3 AND MISCEL LANEOUS GOODS. mtHMHlDEIOOKDCr.. Omiao Citt, Obgos. e7At the Post Office Uain Street. Treat side. novl, "73-tf A. C. WALLING'S Iionccr ISooU ISiiidcry Pittoek'a Building, cor. of Stark and Front Sts., I'OllTLAXI), OREGON. BLANK BOOKS RULED AND BOUND TO ANY desired pattern. Muaio Bocks. Magazines. iawspap.r.. etc., bound in every variety of etyle known to the trade. Orders from the country prompuy attended to. novl, TS-tf OREGON CITY BREWERY. rJ ' purchased the above Brewery, wiati,, lnform th, pubUo tbat they are - i.Prpr,d to mnfaoture a No. 1 OF LAGER BEER, rd Vu',? obuill anywhere in the State. Ordtsre selietua and promptilUled. Drrasts Apticar Ilousekeepinsr. Duck 3'our house from iffts ard out, Let there be au inmost shrine Where to praise, with gift devout, Love both human and divine. , . After that, the holiest room Heap with choicest things that grow; Spare not jrold nor silver show, Autiergrts, nor forest bloom. Man's wrought marvels dautiest. Colored canvas, chiseled stones, Comforts few, but all that'a best, Kuch that special beauty own. Then as worldly station calls All your home in order set, ' Nor throivrhUtnty prido forget Chambers still outrank the halls. After, if you more can spend, 2s'eal!jr decorate the shell; Next your crumbling fences meud, - L'iy your road-beds, deep and well. But beware, less thee beguile Care on outward things to waste; Save in heart-shells fair and chaste, Where does fortune really smile ? ilatbilde. ' ili93 Carlyle found her crying ia an intelligence office one day, and in a spasm of philanthropy brought her home. "What do you mean to do with her?" said Nic, caressing his chin. Nic always broke in ou his cousin's little enthusiasms in that way. "Save her!" said Miss Carlyle, mag nificently. "From what?" "From her friemls, of course; just what every pretty woman needs salvation from." "Her friends? Didn't know she had any. "Who are they?" "Men." "Oh!" said Nic, innocently. Miss Carlyle had a genius for benevo lence. A kind of breezy, contagious benevolence that made every one she talked with swear he would go the very next day and commit some rash act of generosity. Every oue but Nic Somer ville. His genius, if he had any, lay en tirely in the region of painting and idle ness. Aie himself had some faint glimmering on the subject of his dormant ability, and ventured to question his cousin one day. "Do you really think I have auy talent, Inez?" Le had said with astonishing meekness. "Yes, for going to the dogs," sJid Inez, cruelly, and the conversation dropped. Nevertheless Mis3 Carlyle contrived to furnish him with luxurious apartments and artists1 materials, and Nic lounged on his way n joiciug. Privately, Inez had a great deal of faith in her cousin's genius. By and by, when he should ac complish something worth while, she meant to senu him abroad, iu the mean time no amouut of dependence could crush Nic'a spirit. Ue sat in Miss Car lyle's chairs with his feet on Miss Car lyle's mantel, and ridiculed Mis3 Car lyle'd fondness for picturesque beggary. Yesterday it was a blind musician; to morrow it would lie a penniless poet; to-day it was Mathilde. "I mean to make her a tidy, indus trious servant, Nic: she is just the kind of a girl to pick up foolish notions, and I mean to prevent it." "But it will never do, Inez. There is something ducedly impertinent in the mere fact of a servant being handsome. It's an insult to one's frieuds. What woman wants to bo overshadowed by a maid?" "N onsense! Mathilde shall wear a cap something dainty and subdued. The poor child is not to blame for her beauty.1' "Certainly not; what reason under heaven is there for hiding it under a cap? What is the boasted freedom of this re public if every man with line eyes must put on spectacles, and every woman with a pretty foot wear wooden shoes? You astonish me, Inez!" "Nonscuse !" repeated Inez. Nevertheless Mathilde wore a cap. The merest suggestion of lace and Paris muslin, very dainty and subdued in it self, but developing a demure coquetry on Mathilde's Swedish gold hair. Miss Carole contemplated the result and told Mathilde she need not wear caps, they were bad lor the scalp. "You sec, I wa3 right, Inez; the girl will never make over into a servant; might as well try to make a lady of Biddy Ilyan in the kitchen. You can t smother a lot of. pale yellow hair and a blush-rose complexion, with a square of muslin and a yard oi V eleuciennes. Its a reform against nature. "What would you have me to do, then?" demanded Miss Carlyle; "the powr child must "work or starve. "Of course it's none of my business, Inez, but unless you can rna&e a lady oi her it seems to me there would be a poetical propriety in letting her starve If I were a girl with big sky-blue eyes and long lashes I'm sure I'd rather die in a tragic, horrible way, and be made over into a poem, than have my beauty snuffed out with a cap. It's barbarous. Why not try making a companion of her. ' A Pfininlnirtn I TV n sf tti .-.r t i iff TVKrtn I am thoroughly tired of my own so ciety I will poison myself. Besides, she can neither read nor write. Women ao not make companions of pretty idiots; they leave that tor men. "Oh!" said Nic, with the most densely innocent air, "The fact is" pursued Miss Carlvle. "Mathilde is a happy, biddable little thing, who doesn't know she is pretty, anu win maKe an excellent servant it no one tells her." "bae doesn t know she is pretty? Of course, then, my dear cousin. I take back everything. I have been laboring under a monstrous error. I suppose Mathilde stuck those little blue bows in her hair, and hung those bits of coral in her ears from some groveling spirit of vanity. No doubt there is a severe utility in such things, beyond my ken. Excuse me, Inez. WBat an ass I have been making of myself!" and Nic sauntered lazily out of the room. Mathilde certainly was a h3ppy little thing. She flitted about Miss Carlyle's dining-room like a domestic humming bird, blushing in the rarest way when anyone spoke to her. They all became accustomed to her beauty after a while. Miss Carlyle grew a little proud of it, taking it quite as a matter of course that people should remark Mathilde along with the china and port. Later, Ioez forgot that Mathilde wa9 remarkable. Forgot it, that is, as a mat ter of ever preseut consciousness. As a matter of fact it lay dormant in her brain, until something made it unpleas autly alive. "You have an exceedingly pretty ser vant," said Clavers Loraine, wheu Ma thilde bad opened the door for him one day; "one doesn't often see that pure oval in blondes." Miss Carlyle was a brunette, but then she was ia love with Clavers Loraine, and Hushed a little. "Yes, Mathilde has a dollish pretti ness; she is a good girl, neat and indus trious. "When are the McVeighs ex pected?" "In September, I think. About this girl Mathilde, did you call her? she certainly has good blood in her veins." "O I am not sure about blood. White lilies grow out of black soil, 3ou know. One thing is certain. Mathilde has not enough good blood in her to make her lazy. Is Eunice McVeigh's engagement out?" Miss Carlyle began to wonder if it paid to save Mathilde. Servants with purely oval faces might prov expensive. But that was a summer cloud. One day a rose dropped from Mis3 Carlyle's hair, and Clavers Loraine picked it up aud kept it. It was an amber rose, very rare, and very becoming, and Loraine had it in his hand when he left the room. Five minutes later, Inez went into the dining room, where Mathilde stood by the open window, blushingdaiutily, with a rose in her hair an amber rose, very rare, and very becoming. "Did you open the door for Mr. Lo raine, Mathilde?" "Yes, miss." The girl drooped her eyes and colored exquisitely. Inez went straight to her cousin, a carmine spot iu either cheek. "You met Clavers Loraine at the door, Nic; did he have a rose in his hand?" Nic yawned and stretched himself. "A rose? Yes no let me see. He had a lambent lire iu his eye, aud a ten der pathos iu his voice, and an elastic triumph in his step, aud no doubt he had an intense yearning iu his heart; but I don't think he had a rose iu his hand. Why?" "Are you sure?" "Of course I am sure. Don't be sav age, Inez; he niviy have put it in his pocket." Mis3 Carlyle went back to the dining room. She put her hand to the plough. Mathilde must bo saved. "Who gave you the rose in your hair, child?" Mathilde's long lashes fell and her lips quivered. Miss Carlyle had never seen her half so charming. "A gentleman 1 must not tell, he said. Are you angry, Miss?" "No, Mathilde. This gentleman, has he given you anything but rosea?" "ies, Miss; ribbons sometimes, and a necklace; but I never wore it," sobbed Mathilde. "lias the gentleman ever told you he loved you?" Inez was remorseless. The carmine spots fadef. "On, yes, Miss, but I didn't believe it. I didn't know it was wrong. I I " Poor Mathilde broke down, sobbinsr pitoously. "Listen to me, child, "iou must forget this fine gentleman. He will bring you nothing but harm. You must send back everything he has given you. Do you understand me, Mathilde?" "Yes, ma'am," whispered the girl, through her tears. The next day Clavers Loraine asked Miss Carlyle to marry him. That lady surveyed him icily. "This display is entirely unnecessary, Mr. Loraine." "So it seems. You are sure you un derstand your own heart, Inez?" "Perfectly." "Very well; so be it;" and Clavers Loraine went abroad. Inez looked at her cousin through a mist of unshed tears. "I have nothing ia the world but you, Nic. You shall be a great painter, and I will be your patroness. You will never forsake me, will you?" Nic dropped his cigar with an injured look. "Don't be cruel, Inez. I'm sure I'v; never shown any disposition to desert you, have I?" "No, no, you have always been kind and good," Miss Carlyle spoke dreamily. "But men are so false so very false, Nic." "Exactly, Iuez. That's the reason I prefer women. I'd rather spend my life rirht here in your house than knock around among men like other fellows. I would, indeed. They're a beastly mob, Inez most inhumanly beastly." Mis3 Carlyle smiled a shadowy, tremu lous smile. "I don't mean to let you stay right here in mv house. Nic. You must go abroad. When you are famous, and the world is better for your pictures, you shall come back, and we shall grow silver- haired together. It is a bleak sort of a world. Nic. don't you think so?" "A regular. Sahara. I wonder if it pays this everlasting grind. If it were not for you, Inez were you in earnest about sending me awayf ic goes inrougn me like a two-edged sword. It does, in deed." Miss Carlvle was in earnest. She did not find it easy to forget fine gentlemen, and Mathilde was there to help ner re member. So she threw herself into Nic's future warmly, aud was busy all day Ion"-. The night before his departure the young artist grew almost patueuc. J;" You have been deuced ly good to me Iuez. I have a fancy to remember you just a3 you are to-night, flushed and be neficent. Dou't trouble yourself to get up in the morning. Good-by." When Miss Carlyle got up in the morn ing Nic was gone and eo was Mathilde. "Forgive me, Inez," he wrote; "we are married and gone. Have you forgetten the war of the roses? I took it from Loraine at the door. It was a mute, in glorious fraud, but he went away so soon it was not necessary to explain. Did you dream you were saving Mathilde for your ungrateful Nig?" Miss Carlyle forgave them instantly. She was in a forgiving mood. She wished the sins of the whole world had been crjiniitted against herself, that she might Yripe them out with one mag nificent gesture. Then she wrote to Cla vers Loraine. "I have done you a great wrong," she s-ud. "When you come back I will tell you about it." Clavers Loraine came back and forgave the wrong. "I thought yoa were in love with Ma thilde," said Miss Carlyle, humbly. "Mathilde who is Mathilde?" "Don't you remember her? the girl with the purely oval face?" "A yellow-haired doll!" "She is Nic's wife now." "Heaven be praised. I was always jealous of Nic." - When they were married Nic sent them a dainty bit of canvas from Dresden. An open window, a . square of apple-green sky, and in the foreground a Swedish blonde with an amber rose in her hair. Prince Gortsehakoff. This brilliant liussian minister, one of the most able diplomatists now living, to whom his country owes its present power ful position in Europe, more than to any other man, was born July 16, 1789. Un like his kinsman, Peter Dimitrievitch, he grew up with no taste whatever for a mili tary life, but turned his attention entirely to civil aflairs, in which he early showed great talent; a talent that, for a long time, was not appreciated by his countrymen. His first mission was to London as Secre tary of the Russian Embassy, when he was twenty-three years old. While there he. studied English life aud habits, and gained a kuow ledge of them which has, iu later j-ears, served him a good purpose. Thirty years after his first entrance into public life began the really brilliant part of his career. It was during the Crimean war. Count Nesselrode was then at the head of Russian affairs. Perceiving the importance of keeping Austria neutral, he disjiatched Gortsehakoff to Vienna for that purpose, bidding him to accomplish it, "at any co3t." lie fulfilled his mis sion well, skillfully fighting the influence of Western Europe and excited Hungary, so that Russia was saved "from her great est peril." It was through his consum mate tact and ability that the treaty or Paris was signed by his country in 185G. That year he succeeded Nesselrode as Minister of Foreign Allan's. JIis ambi tion was to restore the prestige of Russia which was lost during the Crimean War, and he bent his whole euergies to the ac complishment of his purpose. All are familiar with the sending ot a circular in 18G0 to the European powers, iu which he remonstrated against foreign interference in Neapolitan affairs, which were then in a disturbed condition. He refused abso lutely to associate himself with England and France in their unfriendly treatment of the United States during the rebellion. At the time of the Polish insurrection, he showed a firm determination not to allow outside dictation about the internal poli cy of Russia, and was rewarded by ad ditional popularity at home, and increased respect abroad. His ability and success gave to him at last the position of Chan cellor of the Empire, to which has since oeen aaueu tne dignity oi oerenc mgn ness. In 1870, by availing himself of the Franco-German war, he managed to se cure the revision of the treaty of Paris, by which the Russian influence was re stored in the East. Prince Gortsehakoff is at the present time nearly eighty years old, but retains full possession of his faculties, and is the moving spirit iu all Russian counsels His quiet, courteous manner is very pre possessing, and his well-chosen words carry weight whenever spoken. Itecent telegrams speak of iailing health, and oc casional confinement to his room, signs that betoken a possible near approach to the ending of a most brilliant life. Rus sia can ill spare him, the master spirit of her diplomacy, at the present time. lo- letlo Made. The newspapers are fond of telling Ftones about the cowardice which women are alleged to show in the presence of a mouse. A severe masculine censor once declared that the most grave and wise gathering of women, for the most im portant aud serious purpose, could be ut terly thrown off its balance by the letting loose of a mouse in the room. That was men's theory. Here is fact: "While a judge was holding court at Van Wert, O., a few days ago, a mouse took advantage" ot his preoccupation and climbed up in side his pantaloons. The attorneys and attendants became aware of the situation when the judge suddenly gave a jump, clapped his hands to his legs and stamped on the floor. The sheriff rushed to the res cue, and the spectators rose in their seats, not knowing what was about to happen. The judge whispered to thesueiiff, a law yer shook the intruder out, and in the general confusion that ensued, the mouse escaped." Fancy the howl of derision that would have gone up lrom "the su perior sex," if this had happened in a court presided over by a woman! Thk Intermartuage of CocsrNS. Two double cousins married, perhaps, eighty years ago. They are now dead. They lived in Harris county, GaM and raised twelve children, all of whom lived to be sixty years old and upward. Alter nately a deaf and dumb infant was born, making six ot sound body and six amict ed. The six deaf and dumb children lost their sight at sixty years. Three of the un fortunates are, or were, boys (we don't know how many live or have died) and three girls. Oolumout Enquirer. COURTESY OF BANCROFT LIBRARY, Three Good Lessons. "One of my first lessons," said Mr. Sturgia, the eminent merchant, "was in 181S, when I was eleven years old. My grandfather had a fine llock of sheep, which were carefully tended during the war ot those times. I was the shepherd boy, and my business was to watch the sheep in the fields. A boy who was more tond of his book than the sheep was sent with me, but left the work to me, while io lay under the trees and read. I did not like that and finally went to my grandfather and complained of it. I shall never forget the kind smile of the old gentleman as he said : "'Never mind. Jonathan, my boy; if you watch the sheen, you will have the sheep.' - "'What doe3 grandfather mean by that?' I said to myself. 'I don't expect to have sheep.' My desires were moder ate a fine buck worth a hundred dol lars. I could not exactly make out in my mind what it was, but I had great confi dence in him, for he was a judge, and had been in Congress in Washington s time; so I concluded it was all right, and went back contentedly to the sheep. After I got into the field I could not keep his words out of my head. Then I thought of Sunday's lesson: 'Thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will make thee ruler over many things.1 I began to see through it. Never you mind who neglects his duty; be you faithful, and you will have your reward. "i receivea a seconu lesson soon alter came to New York as a clerk to the late Lyman Reed. A merchant from Ohio, who knew me, came to buy goods, and said, 'Make yourself so useful that they can not do without you.' I took his meaning quicker than I did that of my grandfather. "Well, I worked upon these two ideas until Mr. Reed offered me a partnership in the business. The first morning after the partnership was made known, Mr. James Geery, the old tea merchant, called in to congratulate rae, and he said : 'You are right now. I have only one word of advice to give you: Be careful who you walk the streets with.' That was lesson number three. "And what valuable lessons they are I "Fidelity in all things; do your best to your employers; carefulness about your associates." Let everybody take these lessons home and study them. They are the foundation-stone of character and honorable success.: Moravian.. Mint to Drive Away Rats. Four years ago my barn was regularly infested with rats; they were so numerous that I had great fears of my whole grain being destroyed by them after it was housed; but having two acres of wild peppermint at grew in a held of wheat, alter the wheat was harvested the mint was cut and bound with it, and drove the rats from my premises. I have not been troubled with one since, nor am I at present, while my neighbors have any quantity of them. reel confident that any person who is troubled with these pests could easily get rid of them by gathering a good supply of mint and placing it around the walls or base of their barns. Canada Farmer. Orange Marmalade Allow equal weights of oranges and white sugar; peel and quarter the oranges careful to re move the inner thick skin from the yel low peel. Boil the peel in clear water once, changing- the water once, about fifteen minutes after it first boils. to remove the bitter taste. When ten der, I boil it slowly for three or four hours, drain in a colander and cut into delicate shreds with a very sharp knife. To prepare the pulp, remove the Beeda and white stringy outside part; squeeze out the juice and thin pulp into a bowl and pour over the sugar; cover the pulp with water and boil until tender; then pound the pulp in a mortar, or cut into small bits, and with the water in which they were boiled add, with the sbreded yellow peel, to the sugar and juice. Put the whole into a porcelain kettle and boil. When it begins to thicken it must be tried occasionally by letting a little cool in a spoon upon ice. Great care must be taken that It does net burn. When as thick a3 desired, turn into cups or tum blers, cover with paper wet in brandy and tie down tightly. Boiled Ciiickens, Deviled Sauce. Have two or more spring chickens, singe, draw, pare the wings, cut off the sumps, split by the back, crack the main bones, put the legs iasid, natten sugfitiy, season with salt, white and red pepper; baste with melted butter, sprinkle a little fresh bread-crumbs over, then broil slowly and well done on a very moderate charcoal fire; dish up on slightly buttered toasts of bread, and serve with a deviled sauce either poured around or in a sauce bowl. Cheese Fritters. Slice thin a half dozen large, tart apples, and prepare half as many thin slices of cheese. Beat up one or two eggs, accoruing xo ine . i . . . i Quantity requireJ, ana season iiign witn salt, mustard and a little pepper. Lay the slices of cheese to soak for a few mo ments in the mixture, then put each slice between two slices of apple, sandwich etyle, and dip the whole into beaten eggs; then fry in not butter like oysters, and serve very hot. These fritters are an ad dition to any breakfast table. Waffles. One egg, one cup of milk, one and a halt cups ot hour, one table spoonful of melted butter, ODe teaspoon ful of sea foam and a pinch of gait. Sift the sea foam and salt through the flour. Beat the egg very light, add the milk and stir in the flour. If you measure both flour and milk with the same cup this batter will be just right. Have the waf fle iron very hot on both sides and very well greased. Almost everything de pends upon the baking. They must be eaten as soon as baked. Tea Cake. One cup of sugar, two and one-half cups of flour, one table spoonful of butter, on cup of milk, one egg, one teaspoonful of soda, and two teaspoonfuls of cream of tartar; dissolve soda and butter in a little warm water and beat all together for fifteen minutes. Bake in small cakes or a loaf. To be eaten hot with butter. A Clauclestiiie Marriage. On Tuesday were borne from a sump tuous house high up on Fifth avenue, for interment in a Connecticut town on the I'New Haven Road, not far from this city, the remains of a revered wife and mother. Half a century ago, wheH she was the only unmarried daughter of an old and wealthy family of the town in whose cemetery her body now rests, she came to New York in the bloom and vivacity of a youth just conscious of its own power, to visit the friendly household of one of our first merchants. A prolongation of her sojourn here did not excite the re monstrance of her parents until they -were surprised by information that her delay was possibly occasioned by the frequent calls c-f.- j:':Mtl-man, a lieutenant of the British' navy, whose attentions seemed ominously serious, when her mother took the iamuy carriage precipitately lor the city to convey back forthwith the giddy damsel, upon arraignment before the maternal bar the young lady did not deny the frequent visits of the alleged suitor, whom her New York friends had seen no reason to interfere with; indeed, upon stepping into the carriage to go home (there was no New Haven Railroad then), she said quite coolly: "It's useless tj find fault now, ma, for I am married." ouch, indeed, was the startling fact. After a short and only finally suspected summer's courtship, she and the lieuten ant had been clandestinely married, and before the horrified mother and romantic daughter had been in their Connecticut home twenty-four hours, the bold young sailor was there, too, to claim his wifal But he found her a prisoner, locked in her own room, and both parents met his appeals with steady refusal to acknowl edge his authority. The girl was but a child, they said, not conscious of her own mind, and they should resist with every possible form of law any attempt to re move her from their custody. The hus band, urging that they loved each other, was told that she whom he had made his wife, in name only, now bitterly regretted her sentimental folly, and wished to see him no more. Ascounded at this asser tion, the young man passionately im pugned its truth. Would he be gener ous enough to give her up, he was asked, if she herself assured him of her decis ion to that effect? Chivalrously, though too rashly, perhaps, he agreed so to do, confident, undoubtedly, that she would prove true to him. And then came the most extraordinary scene ot the little drama. A married 6ister strikingly resembling the yet im prisoned virgin wife had been hastily summoned from this city for the purpose, and artlully dressed to intensity the re semblance, hurriedly entered the room where the Lieutenant was present, with a friend for a witness, to learn his fate, and, with simulated sobs hastily hid her face on her m'other's bosom. Supposing her to be the wife whom he agitatedly called by name, the deceived husband begged her to go with him. "I wish to remain with my mother I" wa3 the appar ently tearful answer, without so much as a glance for him ; and without another word, the Lieutenant bowed to parents and child, and at once withdrew with his friend from the room and the house. On his way back to New Y'ork by steamboat a favorite dog that accompanied him leaped overboard, and he, plunging instantly over to the rescue,was drowned. Tli Court of the Kin? of Italy. The Qainnal Court, instead of being occupied with the easy life of the past seven years, irresponsible, gay, and merry, is quite terious and collected. The King is ordering his new households, examin ing old Turin Court archives, and trying to adapt the stiff aristocratical rules of the Piedmontese Court to the modern free spirit that reigns about him. At first it was decided that the Queen's household should be arranged according to the se vere rules that directed the formation of King Humbert's mother's court, but that decision had to be set aside. The daily- journals took up "the subject instantly, and handled it with audacious republican freedom. In the old days only ladies of the highest rank could serve a Queen of Piedmont; now the Court of Italy must be a mixed one, and the political value, not family value, of its attendants must be considered. No li3t has yet been given out of the new ladies of the Queen; for the moment there have been no changes made. Life at the Qnirinal is very quiet. The Queen of Portugal has been ill with a cold. Every morning her Majesty, Queen Marguerite, pays her sister-in-law a visit, and this visit is an early one, at 9 o'clock. At 10 the Queen breakfasts, after which she receivea visits, reads, and has her son with her. At 4 o'clock she drives out with her chief lady of the court, the Marchesa Montereno. I often meet the royal carriage a closed and quiet looking one, wish simple liv eries on the Porta Pia road that beau tiful passegiata that used to be called "the Cardinals1 drive." whore the views are enchanting. After a drive of some dis tance from the gate, her Majesty and companion leave the carriage for a walk, as every one does for that matter who drives on that charming road. Corres fondtnc of t7ie New York World. "Poor, but Respectable." "They are poor, but respectable," is a phrase very often used, or misused, since it seems to infer that the fact of poverty ia evi dence against respectability. No one who knows the poor intimately can for a moment assent to such a heresy. There ia no class of society in our couatry, where all the virtues which confer a just claim to respect more generally abound, than among the poor. While the idleness or vice which produce the far larger por tion of squalid misery which exists should receive no toleranoe, all honor should be paid to the virtue which shines out amid the pressure and temptations of poverty. ' A New Orleans editor who saw a lady making for the only empty seat in the car, found himself "crowded out to make room for more interesting matter." Cows for the Dairy. As a rule, we believe it is beginning to be pretty well understood that the best way for a dairyman to keep his dairy is to grow his own stock, keeping the calves from the beat cows.' If he uses a blooded bull of a good milking family and breed, so much the better so much greater the chances of his hav-" ing a herd of deep milkers.- But all does not depend on breed and pedi gree; much depends on the rearing and keeping. A stunted calf can never fully recover from the shock; nor can a poor ly fed cow ovcrcoma the disadvantage of lack of food. Generous feeding, from the day of birth to the lmuding over to the butcher, is tha most profit able. A dairyman should not aUteinpt to rear more calves than he can keep in a rapidly growing condition, nor more cows than he has an abundance of feed for. All above this entails loss, down to the point where animal life is merely sustained and there is no return what ever cither in growth of the calf or milk from the cow. The cow is often compared to a ma chine, and the comparison is a good one. It follows, therefore, that we want not only the best machine, but must fur nish it the required material for manu facturing dairy products. We want the machine of the greatest capacity and efficiency the one that will do the lar gest amount of material" up into the largest amount of milk the one that will entail the least waste from a given amount of material, and turn out the maximum of product. Now, how can we secure the machine of the greatest capacity and least- waste? First, by choosing the best types of the best families of the best breeds to breed from; and then, by making the most possible out of the progeny. We agree with the National Live Stock Journal that "a poorly developed animal cannot have its secretory system in an active and vigor ous state. Having been fed meagrely, it3 digestive system is contracted and wanting in capacity to furnish sufficient aliment for large milk production. Everything depends upon the rearing of the heifer calf in determining her use. fulness as h milker. A steady and rapid growth from calfhood shows all her secretory organs in the greatest activity; and her digestive organs must have been well developed and active to have pre pared so much food for assimilation in such rapid growth. And, as it is im possible that the cow should yield a large quantity of milk, without digest a large quantity of food, the animal must be trained to this from calfhood. Could anything be clearer aud more self-evidently true? There is avast deal in.training and habit, as well as in nat ural capacity. We must train tho ani mal to all the habits and requirements of after-life, and allow none of these to weaken for want of use. The principle is applicable to the human rfs well as the bovine family, and applicable in every department of life. American- Dairy man. Feeding Houses. For a period of thirty years, more or less, horses have been under my control. I personally superintended the feeding. During that time no horses have died, and Ihave had little sickness. A straw-cutter with a raw-hide roller has been iu continual use till the present time. In the cutting of the foo'd for two teams enough is saved in one year to pay for its purchase. While the horses are eating their dinner, enough can be cut for the uext meal; then watered, to moisten it and destroy the dust, and with it four quarts of meal is ample for one horse. The meal is one-third corn, one-third oata, and the other shorts. A variety is made by giv ing a few small potatoes or carrots week ly. The benefits resulting from this manner of feeding are that we have no sick horses, they being always in good health and order; there is n danger of founder from hired men feeding when too warm; they can cat it sooner, and are ready to go out; neither is anything wai. 'd (by throwing from the manger, etc.) and it does them mora good, I be lieve, as no whole grain is passed or lost. jSeing out of meal for a few days, a num ber of feeds were given them of amall ears of corn, with plenty of cut hay moistened. Two had to be taken to "the city immediately for treatment of colic, and by prompt action at once they re covered. This is the last of whole grain feeding. Of course the same good qual ity of hay and grain i3 given when cut as when they cut it for themselves. C, in Country Gentleman. Farming in the West. A correspond ent of the Itural Neie Yorker, speaking of the shiftless method of farming in the "West, says : It is tho unsurpassed fer tility of our soil that leads to all this. It needs no manure for its first crops, and the few years in which it produces well without it are just sufficient time for farmers to acquire lazy, improvident hab its about taking care of their manure. It is a common thing to hear them ridi cule Eastern tolks about their economy in saving, composting, and applying their manure to their lands. Another trouble is, there are too many producing corn, and the supply seems to be greater than the demand in about five yeara out of six. Every farmer here is expecting to make money to pay his taxes, im prove hi3 farm and pay the accumulated debta of years, by growing on half worn out soil, "foul with cockle burrs, twenty and twenty-five cent corn. - A ILlxt to Duck Raisers. It ia well known that the far-fainad canvass back duck of the Chesapeake derives ita deli cate and peculiar savor from the valiae neria, or wild celery, on which it feeds in those waters. An intelligent agricultur ist has turned this knowedge to useful account by cooping and feeding the com mon domestic duck upon the- tops .and root3 of the garden celery for a week or two before killing them, which is said to greatly improve their flavor and alto gether destroy the rankness which is gen erally observable in the barn-yard fowl. The plan ia worthy of a trial by hon iant. JiocJietler Express. I; s f a M !l U 'i . F -- ; l ; r:--.- 11 4 It ' . t i - - : If" il in - 'i : rl V 1 p m r 1