?!
: ; 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