1882-06-15; Saline Observer

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Saline
bserver.
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Ids.
ETE
NISSLY& EMMERT, Publishers.
SALINE, WASHTENAW COUNTY, MICHIGAN, THURSDAY, JUNE 15, 1882.
VOL. II. NO. 31.
BUSINESS DIRECTORY.
PBOEESSIONAL.
\tj
ty C. JKNTKINS,
Surgical and Mechanical
DENTIST.
Office, 19 South Main Street, opposite first
National Bank,     *
Aim Arbor,   -  IMioli.
D.
P.McLACHIiAir,
Physician and Surgeon,
Office and residence opposite M. E. Church,
Adrian street, Saline, Mich.
&.W-
CHANDIiES, M. D.,
Physician and Surgeon.
AH calls promptly attended to.   Office at residence, first door north of M. E. Church.
>r.
E.
JONES & SON,
Attorneys.
All kinds of legal papers neatly and correctly-
drawn. Collections made and promptly remitted.  Office on Mc Kay street, Saline, Mich.
E. Jokes. Ehank E. Jones.
w:
H. B. GUXDABT,
Attorney at Law,
And Justice of the Peace.   Office overNichols
Bro's. store, Chicago street, Saline, Michigan.
yjCT E. HXTHPHBEY,
Real Estate Agent.
Government Lands located. 20,000 acres of
choice wheat lands for sale. Correspondence
solicited.  Ellsbury, Barnes Co., D. T.
lfY Ss
MISCELliAHEOTJS.
liquid
|arket,
ESSE.
mar-
fiildo
he.
S
^v
Mrs. W. F. LARZELERE,
The Old and Reliable
DRESSMAKER and CUTTER
Again oilers her services to the ladies of
this vicinity.
PRICES K,EA-S03Sr^.SI_iS!
and Satisfaction Guaranteed.     Shop at
-,. residence on Henry street, west.
PflISS A. SWIFT
"Would inform the paople *>f SaUuo and vicinity
that she is now prepare! to d > all kinds of
DRESS   MAKING,
Cutting: I'ndEittniir.    Ail work gauKinteed
to give satisfaction.   K >o:n on M ii:i st.,
Inresidence of Ma Phil) Fowte»".
MRS. CHIPMAN Sf^ITH
has opened a
Millinery   Store !
Over Nichols Bio's drujf stope,
Where she w-ill be in attenda-uo herself, on
Tuesday of each week.
MRS. M. L. FORBES
"SnvitestUe ladies of Saline and vicinity to
call and examine her elegant sew stock of
THE CHILDREN WE KEEP.
The children kept coming one bj ontf
Till the boys were five aad the girls were
three,
Andth* big brown house w» alive with fun
From she basement floor to the old roof
tree.
Lite gardan flowers the little ones grew,
Nurtured and trained with the tendsrest
care;
Warmed by love's sunshine, bathed in it* dow,
They bloomed into beauty, like rosea rare.
But one of th& boys grew weary one day,
And leaning his head on his mother's
breast,
He said "I am tirod and cannot play;
Let ine sit awhile on your knee and rest"
She cradled him close in her fond embrace,
She hushed him to Bleep with her sweetest
song,
And rapturous love still lightened his face
When his spirit had jeined the heavenly
throng.
Then th$ eldest girl, with her thoughtful eyes,
Who: stood where "the brook and the river
meet,"
Stole softly away into Paradise
Ere Hh& river" had reached her slender
feet.
While the father's eyes on the fraves were
bent,
The mother looked upward beyond the
sMfcs;
"Our treasures," she whispered, "svere only
lent,
Oar darlings wero angels in earth's disguise."
The years flew by, and the children began
with longicg to think of the world outside;
And as eksb, in his turn, became a mas,
The iboys proudly went from the lather's
feida.
The girls were womaa so g6ntls and fair
Thai lovers were speedy to woo and win;
And with orange blossomain braided hair,
The old home was left, new homes to begin.
So, one b? one, the children have gone—
The boys were five and the girls were
And the big brown house is gloomy and lone,
With but two old folks for its company.
They talk to oaca other about the past,
As they sit together at eventide,
And say, "All the children we keep at last
Are the boy and girl who in chiidhood
died."
—Selected'.
^^V
Spnng&Sumiiiar Millinery Goods
■A
L
3
.Roonrs over Davenport & Son's stor
CEO, R. SHERMAN,
The old and reliable
fyVagon and Carriage Maker.
Job work and repairing-promptly done at reasonable rate3.  Shop on Chicago St., west.
'*©«
Mi .00.
tames for
lap as
jKEL
MYRON: WEBB,
JUSTICE  OF THE  PEACE,
And, Insurance Agent.
COJrVEVAUOXSG ATTENDED TO PROMPTLY.
Special Attention GiTeu to Collections.
Office 2d door west of the postoffice.
 4fc •
E. A. REYNOLDS,
.Notary Public, Real  Estate,
XK'SDK.UiGa .MfD^CWI.I.EGTION' AGEXCV.
<Jfflce over 2f. C. Putnam & Co's. store-, Milan,
Mich.   All business entrusted to mo will
receive prompt attention.
JPa/br-osslgg*     T'Taa    Boys !
HAUSER& CI.ARK,
Proprietors of
THE NEW LIVERY STABLE,
 At the—-
OIiB AZCBBICAN EQTJSE BABK.
.Dealer in the celebrated
Meriden Co,'s Silver Vfere i
And Watenes, Oloete & Jewelry.
Headquarters at Residence, on Henry St., 2nd
dcor east of Baptist oHureh.
COLORADO MADGE.
The sharp silver born of trie clear
curled moon—hanging so low in the
marvelous sky of Colorado, it seemed
you might tiptoe up and touch it from
the hilltop—slid hastily down behind
Pike's Peak on this evening, as if it did
not like to see what was about to happen.
IRE,
THOMAS iECCLES,
The Pioueer
BOOT AND SHOE MAKER,
Is now located in the Borg building, on
fCMeago St., where he v.-ili be glad to see all
Sis oiti#U3tonier8 and many new Ones.
Repairing Seatly and Promptly Done.
rotation.
T
W-- HELLEf? & $QN,
& Blacksmlthing
Horss aowni
. ^„/ft„/rft3. interferes or ia irregular
K/0^ro^ir Svfusicallandwe will regu-
ln hl8iSe hS mh'«will not anoy you.
Special Attention Given
To horses having weuk and diseased feet,
SHOP OK AN» ARBOR STREET.
GEORGE   e**NIS.
Merchant Tailor and Cutter.
Ihare afull llneof samples of goods carried
by a leading eastern, jotj^ng house.
Which I,
$11 famish my customers «£
Sy!  AllwWarranted/^Op over Davenports & Soa'a store. 	
A.S.BWXOX.      * ~  j.*Tsna**
i        BLITON & ISBELL,
PHOPBIETORS OT THE
Livery, Sale and Feed Stables,
soLge and dray lines,
SaotJi I'ront Street, West Broadway,
•SOWER CITY, DAKOTA^
Office,
l&WEJl o— , ,
•rery?ffur^hedat reasonable rates,
ways
This was in the earlier days of Colorado, when miners slept on their newly discovered claims, A wall of rock
and debris from the mine made a sort
of fortress against the savage and the
storm.
This mine here at Boulder Canon
was anew discovery—the richest, the
most marvelously rieh that ever yet
had been found. But as all this has
been said of nearly every discovery,
these glaring adjectives add but little
to the outline of this crude little sketch.
This claim, like all other fearfully
rich ones, was also for sale. That was
why it was so rich. That was why all
sorts of people from all serts of places
came straggling in through the narrow
passes left in th9 walls to where Colonel Bill "Williams and his friends
grouped about their pine-knot under
the stars of Colorado.
Old Kit, the last of the trappers, a
withered, dried-up old man, ready to
blow away like a leaf into the river of
death—a man who had held possession
of all this land of gold long years before—sat moodily aside smoking his
last pipe of tobacco. Suddenly he
started up, or rather half-undoubled,
with his hand to his ear. "What's
that?"
"Guess you've got 'em agin, Kit."
"Got 'em agin? It was a woman, I
tell you. But I forgot, you new fellers
can't hear like old Mountain Kit. Yes,
fchar it is agin! Injun women up
yonder! Injin women in trouble.
Somebody's after 'em," muttered the
old man, as he again doubled up and
silently sucked his pipe-stem.
"Shouldn't wonder. Snagley, the
agent, is red-hot after Madge, ypu
know," syueakeJ out the little doctor.
"Yes, Madge and her old mother
have got away from the Reservation
again," growled Ginger.
"And is he goin' to take Madge
back?" queried Kit, sympathetically,
as he again half undoubled. and shuffled forward.
"Take her back, if it takes the
whole United States Army," said Ginger, savagely.
"Poor gal, poor gal!" mused the old
trapper, "Why her father, boys, was
white. Yes, white as—as—well now,
he was as white as the whitest. As
tor Madge, why, she is whiter herself
than that agent is,"
The old man was full of rage, and
stood almost erect.
"Now, you look hero" and Ginger,
like the bully that he was, came close
up to the old trapper, "Snagley the Indian ageat is a paid of mine in a trad-
m' post. And you just go- slow. If
he wants that gal he'll have her."
"Have her, will he? Well, not while
old Mountain Kit can lift a fist, he
won't. Now, do you just stick a pin
there."
Bat, from the manner of the miners,
it was clear enough that neither
Madge nor any of her uuhappy race
iad friends in that camp other than
the old trapper.
Suddenly' Madge stood, or rather
crouched, as a, hunted wild beast
might crouch, right there in their
midst. Of course she had come in
through the narrow pass in the stone
wall that had been thrown up there
by the long strong arm of the now
resting derrick, but no one had seen
her enter. She had come as silent and
sudden as the moon had gone'. Her
limbs were as supple as the panther's
—her footfall as light. She looked to
be only a waif—a hungry, tired beggar.
"Hello, Madge, what's the row?"
The girl did not answer. The stern
and unfriendly voice of Colonel Bob
Williams and the half sneer on the
faces of all showed .her at a glance
that she had not fallen among
friends.'
"Madge, why don't you claim to be
white and stay with the whites ? You
have a right to do that and then they
can't take you to the Reservation at
all," added the colonel more kindly.
Should she open her proud lips to
utter the scorn she felt for a race who
could treat her and her people as they
were treated ? Should she stoop to say
my mother is starving up yonder on
the rocks only a stone's throw away,
where she is hiding from the man-
hunters? Did it need any words to
tell these tnen that she would live or
die with her mother ancj- her mother's
people?
"Say,Madge,you could get a job down
at the Hurdy Gurdy House to sing and
colonel, as he looked at her thin, bare,
arm, while she still stood trembling,
looking back listening, her nostrils extended, her pale lips set in silence,
Ginger, meantime, had risen and
moved cautiously around towards the
door or entrance through the great
high stonewall, and, before she eouid
guess what it meant, be stood between
her and her beloved mountains. She
was a prisoner. The hard, merciless"
man laughed wickedly as he threw his
strong arm before her when she was
about to spring past him and escape.
She had not spoken yet. But now she
turned about, half-threw up her hands
in sign of submission, and for the first
time stood erect.
She was tall, and had she not been
starving, she would have been strangely savagely, fearfully beautiful. Had
she been well clad and cared for, she
would at that moment have looked the
royal princess in body that she was in
soul. But this wild rose, set thick
with thorns, was only a bud that perhaps would never blossom.
These men all had seen her before
This canon, this land, these mountains
were her home, her inheritance. She
bad played when a child with the shiny
bits of gold and silver that these
strong men were going mad over now.
Her people had galloped their horses
over all this gold for a thousand
years. But now the white man had
come and was digging, digging, digging everywhere—digging graves for
body and for soul. Yes, all these men
knew Madge very well—her pride and
her recklessness. Not a man there
that did not know how impregnable
was this girl's virtue, how she seorned
and despised them every one, too.
Ginger sat himself down on a rock
near by the. pass in the wall and waited for Snagly, the agent, whom he
knew was after her and would soon
be there. The girl moved about tht-
inclosure dimly lighted by the flaring
pine knots, but did not speak. This
was a wild beast that had been caught
in a cage. She was gliding about as i1
to try the bars, to see how to escape
from the cage. At last her eyes f«1j
on a little uncovered tin bucket back
among the buffalo robes and blankets.
She leaned over cautiously and looked
at its contents. It was full of provisions—sandwiches and a roast fowl for
somebody's supper. The girl glanced
up towards the rugged mountain
above hei\ Then she measured the
height of the stone wall before her.
Her black eyes gleamed with a terrible
purpose. Her mother was starving up
there. She was going to steal this, leap
up and over that wall like a starving
wolf and save her mother, who would
die rather than surrender and go back
to the Reservation.
Old Kit, bent, broken, helpless, had
sat all this time back obscurely in the
corner; but his eyes, his every sense,
had followed and understood her. He
came out from his place and sat between the flaring and fitful pine-knot
light and the little tin bucket. But
bow could he help her, this man who
could not even" help himself? The
girl did not seem to notice him, or indeed to see any one now. She stretched her long slender arms just once, as
if to make certain that they were free;
she drew the thong that girdled her a
little together, put the storm of midnight hair back a little from about her,
piercing eyes, and that was all. She
had not spoken one word. She had
not even deigned to look at the man
who sat keeping watch at the narrow
little pass through the great ugly wa?l.
Only old Kit seemed to suspect her
purpose. The miners talked in little
groups together about their minf-s'
They had forgotten the girl was there
At "length, she seemed ready. She
threw her hand up to her ear as if listening, looked up the ugly cliff above
her where her mother was hiding and
starving, looked hard at the steep and
savage stone wall before her, and then
darting down like a hawk she caught
up the little bucket and leaped across
the open space, at a bound and on up
the stone wail.
Up, up! She stops. It is too steep
for her failing strength. The jagged
quart cuts her feet "ind hands till the
white wall of rock :3 red. Her hands
relax their hold on the sharp rock, and
she falls back bleed*ug and bruised at
the very feet of the man who had
sprung forward from where he was
keeping watch at the pass in the wall.
"Now, what do you mean?" called
out the colonel.
"Told you so!" shouted Ginger, as he
took her by the hair and forced her to
rise.
"Injins will be In jins, boys,"' said the
doctor, and he picked up and set aside
the little bucket.
"Now, I guess you'll help me keep
her here till Snagly comes, won't you ?
I seed you fellers lookin' dark at me as
I sat there, you in particular, colonel.
Well, now, don't you see I'm right.
Enjins is Injins. Tb's the cussed bad
blood that's in 'em. The Injin will out
every time."
"Ye3, send the little cuss back to the
Reservation. Let Snagley have her if
you like" said the colonel, as be
brushed the dirt from a bruised knee
and limped around to the other side
of the fire. I?or he, too, had sprung
up and tried to reach the girl when he
saw her about to fall. But whether to
help or harm was not certain to any
one.
At mention of the Reservation the
girl became wild and desperate. She
threw herself imploringly before the
and steal
OCHAIEER & SCHMIDT,
Proprietors of the TTnion Block
MEAT 1AEKBT.
— All kinds of —
MEAT, POULTRY, FISH ETC. -.~~ ^ yoU'dclaim t0 be white-"then | the little inclosure,
MM^miuiaa°BVvl<ies' 'von eould *et some clothe8«" ur«ed the • —me   man-hunter
strong, bearded colonel and lifted her
face as in piteous prayer.
"Well, what did you go.
for?"
Still the girl did not speak. But
now she could not lift her face. Her
eyes fell to the ground, and she stood
mute, motionless—all bowed and broken before him as he accused her.
"Madge, if you hadn't stole my dinner; if you hadn't done that, Madge,
I'd let you go. Yes, I would; hang it,
gal, I'm sorry for you; yes, I am, and
if you hadn't stole that little bucket,
my gal, I'd a chucked that Ginger out
of that door before two minutes more
and let you go; yes I would, Madge.
But you see now 1 can't, for you've
stole."
The trembling old trapper staggered
forward, and, standing between, cried
wildly:
"She didn't steal! I stole it and I
givittoher."
"What you—you, boneist old trapper
Kit?"
"Yes, I—I old trapper Kit. Now
let her go, won't you ? "
"Yes, I will. Go, gal," and the man
pointed to the pass in the ugly wall.
Just as he spoke there was a rattle
of boot-nails over the boulders in the
little narrow pass, and Snagly, the Indian agent, followed by an officer of
the United States Army, and two men.
with manacles at their wrists,entered
The Indian agent
urged the I —the   man-hunter with the United
States Army at his back—stopped
there and glared at her. The girl lifted her face now in silent petition to
every man there. One after one, as
her eyes met theirs, they turned away
without a word, shaking their heads
sullenly. Three centuries of hatred
towards the Indian was in their blood.
"Caught at last, eh?" triumphantly
chuckled the Indian agent, as he at
length came forward, followed by the
men with manacles at their waists.
He stood before her, gloating at her
utter discomfiture and helplessness.
Now she should be his—his at last,
body and soul.
She stood up, tall no longer. Her
eyes had lost their lustre, her long,
bony arms hung down, low down,
tired, so tired now- Her magnificence
of hair mantled her. What could she
have been thinking about? The fire
burned low at her feet. „ The stars
above her—every one—came out,
stealthily, as it wera on tiptoe and
peeped through the keyholes of heaven
to see what the United States was doing there now under the vast free
skies of Colorado.
"Caught at last, eh?' again ejaculated the brutal Indian agent, as he
took one step nearer to the trembling
child, as if about to lay hold of her.
"Caught, caught! Why, mon, you
speak of her as if she were a dog for
the pound." The brawny Scotchman
who said this had just unrolled himself from a pile of blankets back under the other wall, where he had taken
shelter after a hard day's digging. He
was a foreigner, and of a race slow to
comprehend. He was now for the first
time, since the fugitive had entered
the inclosure, getting pretty well
awake.
The agent only looked at the stranger and then motioned his men to approach. The officer, who evidently
did not like his work, was slow to
obey his master, the Indian agent.
"Oh, save me from that man—from
that man of all!" at last cried the girl,
throwing herself before the. kindly
officer. "I will die rather than be taken. Oh; you did saye me once, You
did help me once to escape—"
"Quiet! You will betray me and
ruin all. I dare not help you, Madge,
where the agent is "
"But it is death to be taken. Oh, it
is more tkan death!"
The girl shrank from the monster
and crouched before the stranger, as
if he could help her. Then, turning to
the ruffian, she cried, as she threw her
long, bony arms in the air, and pointed
to the rocks above:
"Where was I last night? Up yonder on the high, rocky ledge, with my
poor starving mother, hiding! hiding!
hiding from him and his men! And
there were rattlesnakes there * in the
recks, rattling and hissing all night as
we lay crouching, hiding, starving!"
"Poor, poor lass!" muttered the foreigner.
"Oh, why is this ? You all can come
and go at will. But I—I am hunted
down like a wolf.   Why is this?"
"Bah, you lujin, don't take on like
that," sneered the agent, as he again
approached. "Come, your mother
must go back to the Reservation.
Don't you want to go back too ?"
"I'd rather die!" and with an instinct
that saw something kindly in the face
of this quiet but determined foreigner,
she turned to him again and pleaded.
"Oh, sir. long, long ago, my father lived
and was rich in horses and gold in
yonder mountains—long, so long ago,
it seems, for 1 was happy then, and
oh, so wretched now! Long, long ago,
and he loved me and called me Margie. But now, down at that Reservation they mock at me when I pass and
call me 'Madge, Colorado Madge, Injin
Madge.' 0«, I could kill them—kill
them,every one!''
The Indian, agent in the name qf the
United States was growing angry and
impatient. He began to fear that possibly this girl might move this man's
pity, and somehow at last escape him.
He advanced closer, and roughly laid
hold of his shouider. "Come, come
now, I want to be gentle with you. But
remember, I am your lawful guardian,
and 1 musfe take you back. Come, go
back peacefully under my protection."
The girl sprang from him and threw
back her hair. Her whole form shook,
but it was ngt with fear now.
"Your protection! What is it? To
see my mother's people sicken and
perish on the deadly Reservation with
only the Great Spirit to heed or to pity
them? To see a race of warriors die
in savage silence while your Great
Father at Washington, and his chiefs
about him, hug themselves in happiness and boast to the world of peace
and prosperity in the land? Your
protection! What is it? To see little
children starve that you may grow
rich? To see helpless women debased?
To bear your insults, your persecutions? Yours, yes, yours! No! no!
I'd rather liye with the rattlesnakes!"
"Now, look here, none of that! Remember I don't take one more word of
insult. So come. And come right
along now." The brute clutched her
thin shoulder angrily, and threw her
towards the two men with the manacles as he spoke.
But the girl sprang back to the side
of the stranger, and, half hiding there
as the agent again attempted to take
her, cried out in her desperation:
"Don't you touch me! . Don't you dare
to toueh me, or I will kill you!"
"Nae, don't you touch the lass! Don't
you dare to touch her! If you do, be-
dad, sir, I'll—" The mighty fist was
in the air, but he was too angry to finish the sentence. He did not want to
talk now,   He wanted to fight.
Snagley, the Indian agent in the
name of the United States, fell back
before the lifted fist of this foreigner
and the gleaming eyes of the half
crazed girl, and cried: "Captain, I call
upon you to enforce my authority.
Arrest and deliver me that girl!"
"You wretch 1" muttered the officer,
between his teeth, as he drew his
sword; then, hesitating, he let its
point fall to the ground. Whether he
had drawn his sword for the agent or
the stranger was not certain. "Ob,
you will help me!" cried the girl to
to the officer.
"^fadge, Madge 1 A soldfer can only
obey orders. Alas, the laws make this
man my master. An Indian agent
commands the army!"
Once more Snagley attempted to lay
hold of the almost frenzied girl. But
the man from under England's flag
threw him back and turned to the
girl.
"Come here, me lass!" And throwing one arm around her he shook his
fist at Snagly. "You stop there. There's
the line! Now you cross that, and I
knock you down. No true Briton allows any innocent lass to be put In
chains, whether she be red or black or
white, and I am a son of bonnie Briton!"
"Well, son of Briton you may be, but
Here, sir,
treat her
friendless
I implore
this ain't British soil," shouted Snagly.
The stranger started at this; he heid
his head in thought, and Snagly continued: "No, you ain't on British soil
here!"
"Not on British soil. Not on brave
old Britain's soil." The man said this
as to himself, and then, slowly, tenderly, pitifully, lifting up the now almost
prostrate child, he handed her toward
the agent, saying: "Well then, me poor,
poor lass, I'll have to give ye up. I
can't save ye, lass, I can't,
take her. But please, sir,
gently. She's only a poor,
lass, sir. Treat her gently,
you!"
"Mind your own affairs and keep
your advice to yourself," cried Soagly,
as he again clutched the girl and threw
her towards the men. "There! Iron
her!"
"The girl no longer resisted or remonstrated now. Her bead bent very
low. Meekly and mechanically hei
two bony little hands fell across each
other to receive the cold, rattling
shackles. Her hair hung down about
her bended face, as if to hide the blush
of shame that mantled it in her captivity.
The mouth of Colonel Bill Williams
had been working; had been watering
to devour that monster, the agent ot
these United States. His hands had
clutched till his finger nails nearly
drew blood from his palms. But the
rattle of chains now seemed to awaken
him to a sense of the awful insult that
was being putnponhis country, his
manhood and his presence. He caught
up the nearest thing at hand—a pick
that leaned against the wall; he dashed forward, throwing the men with
their manacles to the ground, and roared with the voice of a Numidian lion
as he cleared the way for the girl
through the ugly wall.
"Well, if this ain't British soil, it is
God Almight's soil, and you can't iron
her! There, girl!—go, as free as the
winds of Colorado I'
The girl started up with all the
grateful remembrance of her race in
the glance she gave her delivers, and
she passed out with her face lifted to
the cliff above. And old Kit stood
there as >h9 passed, and adroitly forced
something in her bony hand for the
hungry mother on the rocky hill. Surely, with the contents of the little tin
bucket went a God's blessing out from
the heart of every man there, save and
except the agent of these United States
and the cowering red-headed deputy.—
Joaquin Miller in Frank Leslie's Illustrated Ifewspag&r.
THE FA.BH.
The King and the Parmer.
King Frederick, of Prussia, when he
was out riding one day, saw an old
farmer who was ploughing a field and
singing cheerfully over his work.
"You must be well off, old man,"
cried the king. "Does this land belong
to you, on which you so industriously
labor?"
"No, sir," replied the old man, who
of course had no idea that he was
speaking to the king: "I am not so
rich as that.   1 plough for wages."
"How much do you earn a day ?"
asked the king
"Bight groschen," returned the man.
(That would be about twenty cents of
our money.)
"That is very little," said the king.
"Can you get along with it?"
"Get along? Yes, indeed, and have
something left."
"How do you manage9"
"Well," said the farmer, smiling, "I
will tell you. Two groschen are for
myself and wife, with two I pay
my old debts, two I lend, and two 1
give away for the Lord's sake."
"This is a mystery which I cannot
solve," said the king.
{■Then I must solve it for you," replied the'farmer. "I have two old parents at home, who kept me and cared
for me when I was young and weak,
and needed care. Now that they are
old and weak, I am glad to keep and
care for them. This i3 my debt, and
it costs two groschen a day to pay it.
Two more I spend on my children's
schooling. If they are living when
their mother and I are old, they will
keep us and pay back what I lend.
Then with my last two groschen 1
support my two sisters, who cannot
work for themselves. Of course I am
not compelled to give them the money;
but I do it for the Lord's sake."
"Well done, old man," cried the king
as he finished. "Now, I am going to
give you semething to guess. Have
you ever seen me before?"
"No," said the farmer.
"In less than five minutes you shall
see me fifty times, and carry in your
pocket fifty of my likenesses."
"That is a riddle which I cannot
guess," said the farmer.
"Then I will solve it for you," rcr
turned the king; and with that he put
his hand into his pocket, and pulling
out fifty gold pieces, placed them in
the hands of the farmer.
"Thecoin is genuine," said the king;
for it also comes from our Lord God,
and I am his paymaster. I bid you
good-by."
And he rode off, leaving the good old
man overwhelmed with surprise and
delight.—Morning Star,
How to Get Eablt Sweet C«kn.
—Judge Miller, of Missouri, being on a
visit some time ago, mentioned to us a
fact discovered by himself, in which a
full week can be gained in getting
sweet corn for boiling. He said it was,
that as soon as the ear is formed, break
the top down or cut it off, but leave
the stock erect in order that the pollen
of the tassel will be sure to dust the
silk of the ears, as they may not be
fully impregnated should the stalk be
topped. He stated that he had experi
men ted for years and was entirely satisfied that it is uniformly practical and
of value. In fact he thinks that the
ear becomes more fully developed also-
This is a hint easy to adopt, and may
be of interest to truckers as well as for
the private garden.
Being Pore-Handed.—Though farmers and gardeners know well the
value of starting early in their war
against weeds, the importance of the
task is very apt to be forgotten in the
hurry of spring-work. We scarcely
need give the advice, as advice, but a
suggestion is always encouraging, and
the more so when we know it to be
true, The great trouble with most of
us is that we lay out too much work
for ourselves to do. We get a great
many things half done,and work twice
as hard as need be, when the same
amount of labor judiciously expended
would have a three-fold result. This
is just how it is in the war against
weeds.
We are accustomed to get into a
"flurry" about getting in the crops in
time and forget the weed-crop is aire idy in, and going on at a rapid pace
We have not unfrequently seen the
greatest exertion in getting in seeds
or plants that wrould have done just
as well a week later, when the same
time spent in harrowing or weecN
ing ground, would have been equal to
four times the time at a later period.
These remarks of course apply more
to garden than to farm-work. Where
horse power is at hand, weeds half an
inch high, if annual weeds, are as easy
destroyed by a broad tooth cultivator,
as if they were but just pushing
through the ground; but in garden-
work a simple raking of the ground
when the seeds are just sprouting is
quite as effective as the best hoeing
would be. A.n hour or two raking out
a garden between the rows of the various crops will iufaet almost render
hoeing unnecessary, and thus save
many a hard day's work.
Cultuee op Cantbloupis.—Regarding a perfect Ciinteloupe to be
among the very higheat grades of fruit
grown in the worl4? we cannot refrain when the season cornea round to
mention how they may be raised with
success. Almost every person having
a garden of any size should try his
hand at it, as it'ean be done with almost as much certainty as raising a
crop of corn. The ground should
have a warm exposure and be friable
—clay mould not being adapted.
The hill should be dug out eight or
ten inches, two feet in diameter, and
filled with well-rotted manure, rich
eo'iI and sand—turnpike dirt is excellent as a substitute for the latter.
Five or six seeds should be placed at
equal distancss about an inch in
depth, and the S'hili" should be even
with the other soil, except the season
promises to be wet when they should
be raised. They should be about six
feet apart each way, and the plants
when they have passed all danger,
should be thinned out to two or three
in a hill. The beds must be kept
clear of ail weeds and grass, and
when the vines commence running,
they should not be disturbed, as the
rooilets connected with the Tine and
by which it is largely supplied with
nourishment will be broken. The
ground, as the vines begin to extend,
should begone over with an iron rake,
especially after a heavy shower, to
loosen it and give these rootlets a
chance to take hold. The seed should
be planted at the time of corn-planting.
Sowing round the hill, a few inches
distant, early radish seed, will generally protect the young plants from
the bugs, and always will be more or
less beneficial. Should bugs appear,
a sprinkle of weak whale-oil soap and
water, or of carbolic acid soap and
water, will soon send them adrift.
5 large a part it plays in the cost of a
year's living, you would satisfy yourself that the garden pays the best of
any part of the farm.
Every farmer should grow fruit for
home use—strawberries, raspberries,
currants, gooseberies, grapes, cherries,
and apples; quite a list, you see, aad
most people esteem the fruits of which
it is made up as luxuries. The same
is true of the vegetables which ean be
grown in the garden. And when to
this list of fruits and vegetables you
add fresh milk and cream, sweet butter and honest cheese, honey, chickens,
and eggs, do you not see that the farmer has more luxuries within his
reach for the gratification of his appetite than any other man can have?
The wealthy man can buy what
the farmer can raise, but he cannot
have it in its freshness, as the producer can. Have a garden.—American Garden.
Planting Seeds too Deep.
Many small seeds fail to germinate
because they are planted too deep.
Even experienced farmers very often
make the mistake of covering seeds so
deep that the plant fails to make a
vigorous growth while small, while
large numbers, who give no particular
attention to the cultivation of the soil,
except to plant a small garden, plant
mo3t of their small seeds so deep that
but a very small portion, if any, germinate. This they do year after year,
without suspecting the cause of the
failure, but attribute it to bad seed. If,
by chance, it is proved to them the
seed was good, then they fall back on
the weather, from which there is no
appeal, it being easy for them to prove
that they planted a few days before a
heavy rain, or a very dry period, so
the seed is supposed to have rotted or
dried up, while their successful neighbors are supposed to have planted at
just the right time to have all of the
seed germinate. We are satisfied that
if all of the facts could be known, that
ten small seeds fail to germinate because of being planted too deep, to
one that f ail3 to grow because of "poor
quality.
When the weather is just right, a
seed will find its way to the surface
from a much greater depth than when
it is cold and wet, so that in a favorable season, there is not so much complaint of bad seed as in an unfavorable season. The gardner who plants
his small seeds very near the surface,
rarely ever fails to have them germinate, whatever may be the state of the
weather.
We ought never to lose sight of the
fact that nature, when left to herself,
plants very near the surface. Prom
this it would seem that the nearer a
seed is to the surface, and obtains
moisture enough to cause it to grow,
the more natural is the condition.
This as a rule wiil secure a more healthy, if not a more vigorous growth. A
plant that has to ^struggle through
several inches of earth before it finds
its way to the surface, begins life in
the open air in a very exhausted condition, from which it frequently takes
many days to. recover.
Qne who has never tried the experiment, will be surprised to see the difference between plants from small
seeds, that are planted just deep
enough to get sufficient moisture to
germinate, and those that are planted
so deep that they have just power
enough" to reach the surface.—Massachusetts Ploughman.
A. House Lit by a Waterfall.
Farm Luxuries.
America is not the only country that
treats its rulers to sewer gas, and the
shameful condition of the White
House finds a parallel in the mansion
ar Bagshot Park, the home of the Duke
of Connaught. In this house, the bull d-
ing of which cost nearly $200,000, the
greatest pains were taken in the arrangement and ventilation of the drains,
Yet the London Lancet states that the
entire system of baths, drains and
waste pipes communicated directly
with the soil drains, and that the sewers were ventilated freely into the
rooms itjwas most necessary to preserve from such infection. Malaria
followed, and the Duchess herself, just
after the birth of her child, showed
symptoms of blood poisoning so threatening that she was removed at once.
Has sanitary engineering any principles, and if it has will any sanitary en?
gineer succeed in applying them?
Db. Lyman Abbott, of New York,
says in a communication to the Xon-
don Christian World: While the
doctrine of eternal punishment is
still generally believed and occasion^
ally taught in New England pulpits,
tiHe only religious teacher there of
any prominence, so far as I know,
who believes in a literal torment of
fire and brimstone, is Dr. Bartlett,
of Dartmouth College."
Plant your pitchforks under the
shade of your cherry trees, point up.
Should your neighbor's boy fall from
the tree they might prevent him from
striking the ground.
It is something to be wondered at,
that so many farmers' families are so
blind to, or, rather, so wilfully neglectful of5 their opportunities to have and
enjoy many of the physical luxuries
of life. We often see homes about
which no fruit-trees grow, and the
garden, if there is one, is but little-
more than a patch of potatoes and a
bed of onions with, perhaps, a few forlorn-looking cabbages.
This is not as it should be. Every
farmer's home should have a garden,
and that a good one, I have
worked in the garden, and observed the results to he obtained from
it, enough to be satisfied that at least
one-third of the living for an ordinary
family can be raised from a garden of
half an acre. To do this, the garden
must be properly attended to. You
woidd not put in corn and expect it to
take care of itself. You cannot expect vegetables to do what corn will
not. You should see that the, soil is
rich enough to encourage and sustain
a vigorous, healthy growth. You
should work it up thoroughly, when
you make your beds. You cannot
have it too Qne and light. After planting your seed, you should see that all
weeds are kept down. You can raise
but one crop from your garden. If of
vegetables, weeds must be destroyed;
if of weeds, your vegetables must be
given up. Of course you may grow
something you may call vegetables in
a garden partially overrun with weeds,
but they will hardly be worth the
name. To grow them in perfection,
all the nourishment in the soil must
be given them.
When you come to think out the
list of vegetables that you can raise,
yon will begin to understand how
much variety a garden can give to
your bill of fare. Potatoes, corn, cabbages, onions, beets, parsmips, peas,
beans, cucumbers, tomatoes, squashes,
lettuce,—is not that a goodly list ?
Prom half an acre, well-worked, you
can have vegetables every day through
the season of them, and there will be
a good quantity left for use during the
winter. Such variety you would not
think you could afford, if you had to
buy them. The use of them, in combination with your other food, will be
conducive to health. If you were to
estimate the value of what you can
raise in a small garden, and see how
Much euriosity has been felt among
scientific men as to to the result «f Sir
William   Armstrong's   experience in
lighting his own house in Scotland by
the electric light supplied by the agency
of a waterfall.   Sir William Armstrong
gave recently an interesting account to
the Institution of Civil Engineers of his
experience during nearly a year; and
the remarks which he made on the subject have just been privately circulated,
in anticipation of their publication in
the ensuing quarterly volume of the
proceedings of the Institution of Civil
Engineers,   The source of power employed is a force or cascade nearly a mile
from Sir William Armstrong's house,
in connection with which he has erecfrd
a turbine from which he obtains 7 horsepower.   The light is directly produced
by the driving of the dynamo-electric
machine from this turbine, and the only
cost beyond the interest on machinery
and renewals is the pay of the laborer
who attends upon the machine at night.
After repeated trials—which proved
unsatisfactory—of the arc system. Sir
William Armstrong adopted the Swan
incandescent arrangement.   He has 30
pairs of lamps, each single lamp yielding as much light as an ordinary duplex
kerosene lamp, which is usually estimated at 25 candles.   The lamps supplied by the company are somewhat
variable in their durability, but with
further experience this drawback will
no doubt be overcome.   The delicacy of
the system is illustrated by the fact that
while leather belts made in the usual
way were employed to drive the generator, each revolution produced a slight
twinkle in the light, when the point of
the belt ran over the pulley. ^To obtain
uniformity it was necessary to use an
endless belt, made like a flat chain, of
leather links stamped out of the sheet
and joined by pins; a form of belt
which gives a very regular motion.   It
is probable that in most if not in all
cases where water is employed as the
motive power, the introduction of an
accumulator will be found desirable in
order to insure perfect steadines's- of
light.   The economy of the method is
very great, and Sir William Armstrong
stated that no deficiency of either candle power or endurance in the lamps
would induce him to abandon the system.   The incandescent light has no
connection with the atmosphere, and
it  has,   therefore,   no contaminating
effect.   It has very little heating effect,
is perfect in color, and is regarded by
Sir William Armstrong as the perfection of lighting for domestic purposes.
A private experiment of this nature,
made by a competent engineer for his
own personal comfort,   has a value
which it is needless to dwell upon.—St.
James's Gazette.
The state pioneers, at their meeting
in Lansing, had many interesting papers: one on the late Win.A. Burt; one
from Senator Perry, on the "Rise and
Progress of Michigan"; and one from
B. O. Williams on "The schools of Detroit from 1816 to 1819." Therofficers
for the next year are: C. I. Walker,
president; corresponding secretary
George A. Greene; recording secretary
I Harriet A. Tenny.
Mrs. Tom Sawyers Party.
.t 	
Mrs Tom Sawyer's cheery little
face was unmistakably clouded, as
she went about her work, one bright
morning.    In order to explain  to !
you the-cause of this unusual occur- !
rence, I shall have to say, first of all, ]
that there never was a more thor- j
oughly ■ aristocratic little town than 1
that of| Ashton.     The Ashtonites i
had   aristocratic  homes,   attended I
aristocratic ohurches, and last  but j
not least in -poor little Mrs. Tom's \
eyes thjis self-same morning, they j
had very aristocratic tea parties.        \
1 Whst had that to do with her?" J
you ask, Well, somehow, partly in j
virtue of her good family, but most- •
ly, I mitst confess, on account of ber j
sweet sunshiny ways, and good true j
sen-e, Mrs. Tom, though her hus- I
band w^s a mechanic, was admitted j
even into the charmed circle of aris- j
tocratic Ashton. Mrs. Tom herself j
wondered h -w she came there, as |
did every body else, but there she i
was, and no one, not even the most
fastidious, had any desire to put her
out.
But it proved something of a trial
to her after all, and this morning
the thorns were very sharp- You
must know she found herself, as the
expression is, indebted to nearly
every one of her friends, not finan- ;
cially, but socially. "Nothing very
terrible about ifesJ^i^LUsay; but
tha is because you know noishing
about Ashton tea parties, ~So oneT"^
was invited until just tea time, when
all were expected to appear robed
in their very best. The table was
loaded -with dainties of all sorts and
de cripfecas. After an evening of
high bre small-talk and gossip, the
company adjourned, each lady present vowing to surpass the hostess
on some future occasion. Sueh were
Ashton tea parties. Do you wonder
that Mrs. Tom sighed?
She went, broum in hand, and
opened the parlor door. It is a cozy, •
cheery room; looked "just like her- ;
self;5' her husband said. Eut the car- '.
pet was only an ingrain, and the fur- i
niture very plain. She shut the door s
and went on into the dining room. ;
That carpet was very much worn and 1
thin in spots. "Eut I enjoy eating in i
it enough sight better than in Mrs. i
George Parker's elegant one, fer hers j
fairly chills me, and this warms me j
up, it looks so homely," said the in- \.
corrigible Tom, who preferred his j
own cozy home to any one's splendor. ;
Mrs* Tom. went back to her sweep- j
ing with a look of indecision on her }
face, and it rested there all the time |
she was dusting and putting to rights, j
"I'll do it!" she exclaimed all at once, j
as she put the last book back, and l
pushed Tom's chair into the corner. |
"I'll do it." I've accepted their j
hospitality, and I'll offer thess mine. |
They know I cannot do as they do, so j
they won't expect it3 and I won}t spoil j
it all by trying to do something I [
can't. I'll make as nice a tea party ■
as I know how my way, but I'll keep -f'
it my way." So it eame to pass that j
afternoon Mrs. Tom went around i
among her friends, inviting them to j
take tea with her the next day. "And i
I would like to have you come early j
and spend the afternoon," she said to \
every one. {
Then she went home and eommene- !
ed the preparations. For tea, she j
would have biscuits and butter, (and j
Mr3. Tom could make biscuits worth j
eatingj cold meat, preserves, and two j
kinds of cake. She .hesitated over the |
cake a little.* She did hate to seem ;
poor or stingy; but she kept firm. "I j
can't afford any more, and I don't bo- 1
lieve in thinking your company comes .
for the cake." |
There was bo little wonderment t
and surprise over Mrs. Tom's invita- \
dons; some even felt a little sorry for j
her lest she had not fully realized j
what she was undertaking. Bus one ;
and all made up their minds to go, j
and help along if need bs. Mrs. Tom j'
met them at the door with a bright i
smile of welcome, took them up into
her own room to lay aside their
things, then down into the cheery little parlor, which never looked cheerier and prettier than to-day. It was I
not grand or impressive, but you felt j
its  bright sunshine the minute you }
entered. |
Such an afternoon! Not one of them i
could remember one like it.   Mrs. Tom I
was  everywhere,  sometimes  with a J
merry jest, sometimes a kindly inquiry,
now with an interesting euriosity and i
its story, another time with some ques-j
lion that led to an interesting discussion. They forgot to gossip or criticise;
they had no time to; it was crowded j
out with better things.   Somehow a
kindly feeling crept over them, and
they showed the best of themselves
far more in this cozy little home, tfaanj
in their accustomed splendor.   When!
Mrs. Tom excused herself, as the clock
struck six, to look after sapper, they]
looked from one to another in astonishment. Where had the afternoon gone?
"I don't know what you've done,"|
said Mrs. Parker, as she bade heri
hostess good-night, ''but I feel-as Iusedf
to'say when a child, "gooder7 than I didf
when I came." j
"We shall all*be glad to come again,"!
said Mrs. Weston, the lady of •Ashton,;
whose husband was very rieh.
"And all I did. Torn, was just to try*
and get the best out of everybody."    !
"If every one would do that, the mil-j
lennium would come in less than nq
time, little woman," responded Tom,'
with a fond smile. j
"What did she do, any way ?' asked
one, as they discussed the strange
party.
"She didn't do anything," answered
Mrs. Parker, promp tly.
"She was just real and true. I nevei
felt so ashamed in my life as when 1
thought of all the parties I had given[
and every one of them spreads. But
I've spread all 1 am going to/' she ad!
ded, with a laugh. "Hereafter, when
I invite you to my house, I want you
to understand it's because I think w^
can do each other good some way, not
because I've a new carpet %o exhibit},
or a new kind of cake to-treat you to.'r
—iren.nfihp.rik Tniirnal \
-•s^.
The widow of Jesse James has signed a contract to make a tour of thj
•country, and sit on the stage while som 3
gifted unknown lectures upon her lat 5
husband's career. She better join k
■ circus and be exhibited with Jumbb
I and GHuteaU's old clothes.
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