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The
Saline   Observer
NISSLY & EMMERT, Publishers
SALINE. WASHTENAW COUNTY, MICHIGAN, THURSDAY, AUGUST 24, 1882.
'VOL. II. NO. 41.
BUSINESS DIRECTORY.
 PBOgBSSIOSTAI,.	
g^ W. GHANDLEB, M. D.,
Physician and Surgeon.
All oalls promptly attended to.  Offloe at residence, first door north of M. E. Churoh.
Q  0. JENKINS,
Surgical and Mechanical
DENTIST.
Office, 19 South Main Street, opposite First
National Bank,
JSL.xi.ri. Arbor,   -  Mlioii.
J)   P.MoLACHLAN,
Physician and Surgeon,
Office and residence opposite M. B. Churoh,
Adrian street, Saline, Mich.
J} JOKES & SON,
Attorneys.
All kinds of legal papers neatly and correctly
drawn. Collections made and promptly remitted.  Office on He Kay street, Saline, Mich.
B. Jones. Frank B. Jokes.
Attorney at Law,
And Justice of the Peace. Office overNIchols
Bro's. store, Chicago street, Saline, Michigan.
W E. HUMPHREY,
Real Estate Agent.
Government Lands located. 20,000 acres of
choice wheat land3 for sale. Correspondence
jollcited.   Ellsbury-, Barnes Co., D. T.
MISCELIiANSOTJS.
Mrs. W. F   LARZELERE,-
The Old and Iteiiable
DRESSMAKER and CUTTER
A.g-ain offers her services to the ladles of
this vicinity.
PRIOBS K/S.A.SOlSr^LSrjE]
aqd Satisfaction Guaranteed.     Shop at
residence on Henry sLreet, west.
CEO. R. SHERMAN,
The old and reliable
Wagon and Carriage Maker,
Job work and repairing: promptly done at reasonable rates.   Shop on Chicago St., west.
M'r'x~»i WEBB,
JUSTICE  OF THE  PEACE,
And Insurance Agent.
COXVT3VAXCING ATTKKDHD TO PROHPTDT.
Special Attention Girea to Collections.
Office 2d door -west of the postoffice.
E. A. REYNOLDS,
Notary Public, Real  Estate,
ISSTJltU-TCB -4--TD C0M.ZSt!IOX XQSSCY.
Office nv.-v v C. Putnam. &:';>'s. itore, Milan,
Mica.   All l):isia-i3'5 •vi-v.t -.'„ ;d to me will
rucjivu :ii*.jm it .1.1011 tion.
Patronize     TIi©    Boys !
HAUSER~& CLARK,
Proprietors of
THE NEW LIVERY STABLE,
 At the	
OLD AHSKIOAN" HOUSE BABKT.
THOMAS ECCLE8,
The Pioneer
BOOT AND SHOE MAKER,
Is now located In tho Burg building, on
Chicago St., where he will be glad to see all
his old customers and many new ones.
Repairing Neatly anil Promptly Done.
W. HELLER & SON.
Horse Shoeing & Blaoksmithin
If your horse forges, interferes or is Irregular
in his gait, give ua a call and we will regulate him 30 he will not anoy you.
Special Attention Given
To horses- having weak and diseased feet
SHOP OJf ANN ARBOK STREET.
GEORGE   EHNtS.
Merchant Tailor and Cutter.
I have a full line of samples of goods carried
by a leading eastern jobbing house, which I
•willf urulsh my customers at
"^VilOIjinS^.ILiHl PR,IOB3-
Ibuymy trimmings of jobbers and give my
customers the benefit. Don't buy anything In
the clothing line until you have examined my
samples and got my prices. I will save jyou
money. All work warranted. Shop over x)av-
enports & Son's store.
A. B. BMTOIT. "W. E. ISB1X1*.
BL8TOFJ & ISSELL,
PROPRIETORS OT THE
Livery, Sale and Feed Stables,
STAGE AND DRAT LINES,
Offloe,   South Kront Street,  West Broadway,
TOVTSB, CITY, DAKOTA.
Stages to   Ellsbury, Hope and Iiybeck leavs
•yery Tuesday.    Land Hunter's Outfits always furnished at reasonable rates,
QOHAERBB & SCHMIDT,
Proprietors of the Union Block
MEAT   MARKET.
— All kinds of —
MEAT,POULTRY, FISH ETC
At Lowest Living Prices.  No. t, Union Block,
gallns, Michigan
EIRE,  EIRE,  FIRE!
 -0O0-
\
Icli-
]try
s i
Protect yourselves against logs b nve, by
Insuring property with
W, H, DAVENPORT, Agent
For the f ollowincr flrsi>elass
oompanles:
HIA&ABA, of New York,
CONTINENTAL, of N.Y.,
Detroit FIRE & MARINE
,. 1SSETTS, $6,000,000
* ■ .*
Losses Paid Promptly.
RATES AS  LOW AS ANY
l First-class Company.
THE STORY OFTHEGAOp.
Across the pathway, myrtle-fringed.
Unaer the maple, it was hinged—
The little wooden gate;
Twas there, within a quiet gloam,
When I had strolled with Nelly.home,
I used to pause and wait,
Befoit I said to her good-night,
Yet loath to leave the winsome sprite
Within the garden's pale;
And, there, the gate between us two,
We'd linger, as all lovers do,
And lean upon the rail.
And face to face, eyes close to eyes,
Hands meeting hands in feigned surprise
After a stealthy quest—
So close I'd bend ere she'd retreat,
That I'd grow drunken from the sweet
Tuberose upon her breast.
We'd: talk-In fitibl style, I ween—
With many a meaning glance between
The tender words and low;
We'd whisper some dear, sweet conceit,
Some idle gossip we'd repeat;
Vnd thenl'd move to go.
"Good-night!" I'd say;   "good-night-goodbye!"
'Good-night?"—from her, with half a sigh—
"Good-night!" "Good-night!" Andthen-
And then I do not go, but stand;
And lean upon tbe railing, and—
Begin it all again!
Ah! that was many days ago—
That pleasant summer time—although
The gate is standing yet;
A little cranky, it may be, •
A little weather-worn—like me-
Who never can forget.
The happy—"End?"  My cynic friend,
Pray save your sneers—there was no "end."
Watch yonder cubby thing!—
That Is our youngest, hers and mine;
=>ae how he climbs, his legs to twine
About the gate and swing.
T.S.£dbertten.
COUSIN JACK.
[concluded.]
'There wa'n't no such fellar there/
says farmer Jones, in an oracular manner. 'But here's his trunk,' pointing
over one shoulder at a trunk in the
wagon.
•No letters?'
'2So, not a letter. G'lang, sir,' this
last ttf his steed.
The girls look at each other in surprise. «Is he often thus fickle, Isabei ?'
<]uestions Bess.
No, he must have lost the train. I
suppose he came on from New Tork
yesterday, and that accounts for the
appearance of his trunk. He was always punctual when he lived in Boston; perhaps New York has corrupted
oim.' For Isabel, and. m fact, all these
girls, were natives of, and firm believers in, Boston. There is no later train
roin Millforth, so the girls must resign themselves to patient waiting for
the remainder of the day.
- 'Well, I might as well write a letter.
L'm too much dressed to do anything
else,' Bess remarks, and the girls return
co the "lawn" disconsolately. Prue is
not disconsolate, however; she pins her
white dress firmly around her, that no
dust or bramble may harm it, dons her
large straw hat, and starts for the
•>Took. Just beyond the old house the
country road winds through a grove of
-mall maples, standing in light beauty
against the background of dark pines,
while through their midst a clear,brown
brook runs noisily along, bordered by
the freshest grass ever seen and bright
wild flowers from earliest spring until
late autumn. "Where the road crosses
the brook a rail and two slender posts
warn the traveller of the chasm below.
On one side, an old roadway goes
through the biook, originally intended
for a place to water horses; it has now
fallen into disuse, and is very stony for
a road, but 'just immense for a pond,'
Harry says. So he has dammed the
brook; and by the little pond thus formed he and Pruo have spent many hours.
But the dam was swept away by a recent heavy rainfall, and Harry is toiling to rebuild it. He has made a trench
to divert the course of the brook, and
is manfully laboring to construct a new
dam of stones and mud.
'O Miss Prue.' he cries, as she appears
upon the scene, 'if you'll just take this
stick and hold this stone in place.'
So she pushes her dainty sleeves high
on her arms, and grasping the stick
does her best to help rebuild the dam.
For an hour they work, and at last it
i* done; the brook is turned back; the
pond fills; success has crowned their
efforts. Prue and Harry are so busily
watching the little cascade as the
water first falls over the dam, and &o
full are their ears with its" roar, that
they do not see they have an interested
spectator.
A young man, who had walked quickly down the road and now pauses just
above them, s ems to be much interested in the picture before him. It truly
is worth a moment's glance: Harry, a
veritable "barefoot boy," with hat
pushed back from his flushed face, and
orown arms akimbo, stands ankle-deep
in the water, at one side of the pond;
while, at the other side, is perched upon
a large rock a light figure, gracefully
draped in white, with bare, round arms
and plump hands grasping firmly a
stout staff to make secure her foothold. Her face is hidden by an immense straw hal.
The young man would like just a
glimpse of the face that belongs to this
comely figure. He rests his hands upon
the rail, and leans forward, hoping thus
to look beneath the hat.
Oh, fatal curiosity I The rail is old
and rotten, the posts have been undermined by successive floods, they are but
a "hollow mockery."
There is a loud crash, and our hero
makes his debut into Hillside society
in a sudden and unexpected manner.
In vain he attempts to recover his balance, he only gives more impetus to the
rail, which falls across the elevated
dam, while he and the posts drop, with
a tremendous splash into the pond.
Noi unheralded is the advent of our
hero. Our two engineers, roused from
their reverie of satisfaction, raise the
echoes of the wood by their voices.
Harry utters a roar of consternation
at the destruction of his dam; Prue,.
who turns quickly, and sees a young
man and two old posts falling into the
pond in inglorious confusion, while a
tidal wave sweeps over her feet, and she
is spattered from head to foot, screams
vigorously.
And there is our hero on his hands
and knees in the pond—a most forlorn
object—he would like to say something
expressive of his feelings, but his
mouth is full of water, "However," he
thinks, as he raises his head like a turtle, and emerges from his impromptu
bath, "I've a good chance to look under
the hat."
But the fair face beneath the hat is
filled with merriment, as its owner
deftly fishes the young man's hat from
the pond, and jumps lightly from her
rock to the shore. To say that he felt
annoyed would be to express his feelings
slightly; but the whole affair is so irresistibly comical that our hero must
make his best society bow, as he receives
his dripping hat from Prue, and jf'ins
heartily in her merry laugh.
Harry is disgusted, and comes to
them rubbing his eyes with his fists,
and howling forth: 'Don't see what
you're laughing at, come and spoil my
pond, me and Miss Prue've been the
whole afternoon damming. Tou're
real mean.'
Prue stops laughing, realizing that
this is indeed a dire calamity to Harry,
and saying, soothingly: 'Never mind,
Harry, dear, I'll help you again tomorrow.'
'Yes, and I'll help, too, if you'll let
me, though I don't know as my mother
would let me play with a little boy who
swears in such a ^>o?iderous way at a
poor brook.'
The young man says this with a
smile, a peculiar kind of smile, which
Prue has learned to associate with a
pun. She does not see the point of his
witticism, but she does recognize the
kind of smile, and a sudden idea comes
into her head. She says, quickly, '"Was
that a pun ?'
•Well, it was meant for one—a sort
of cousin to a pun.'
•Oh! then you must be Cousin Jack!'
exclaims Prue.
•I am 'Cousin Jack' to some folks,
and,I should be most happy to count
you one of the number,'says Jack; and,
as he looks into her fresh, pure face, he
thinks: 'It was almost worth that
plunge after all.'
«I didn't mean you are my Cousin
Jack, but Isabel's,' says Prue gravely;
'she has told us about you.'
♦Then, of course, you can tell me just
where to find Hillside.'
'I'll show yoH the way. I'm going
there now, myself. Come, Harry, we'll
fix the dam to-morrow.'
'So you call Isabel the pun,' says
Jack, as they walk up the road together, 'I thought you must be the pan I
was cousin to, you made one so easily.'
'I made a pun!' exclaims Prue, in
surprise. 'I can't make a p"un if I want
to.   I never made them.' •
'But you did,' replies Jack; and Vae
proceeds to explain her own unconscious
wit to her, and the two aiegood friends
at once. Before they reach the house
Harry dashes into the quiet front yard
like a flash of lightning from a clear
sky.
"Your old Cousin Jack came," cries
the broken hearted boy, "and he burst
my dam all to pieces; there he is now,"
pointing to the limp, white figure and
the dripping black one that come quickly up the road and in P^the gate in perfect silence. ^
"Don't speak to him," says Harry in--
dignantly. Isabel speaks: "Jack Har-
land, where did you come from ?"
"New York direct, by the water line,"
answers Jack, looking ruefully at his
moist costume.
"Prue," says Bess, severely, "have
you been introducing him to your favorite brook?"
"He did it himself," Harry asserts.
"True, my young friend. I fell in
with this young man's pond and out
with him on the way here; and now,
Isabel, please introduce me to the rest
of the party."
"No, sir; you are not my Cousin Jack
at all. "When you look like a civilized
being I'E introduce you. Your trunk
has come; you'd better make yourself
look as dry as your wit appears to show
you ought to be."
Jack is glad of this chance to escape
from the amused audience before him,
and goes in quest of room and trunk.
Prue must change her faded white
dress. "It serves me right for
playing in the brook in such a costume,"
she says. Bess insists upon going into
the house with her, to "learn the particulars of the fight."
Harry is hu-ried off by his two sisters, and so lo.ibel is left* alone. She
looks very young and innocent; but I
fear she is deep, for she is planning her
campaign.
"If he'd come across anyone else in
that way it would have been bad." she
soliloquizes, "but Prue never flirts, so
that is all right. Bess .shall not have
half a chance at him. He used to be
devoted to me, and only needs a little
encouragement to be so again. I'll
read French with him every morning.
I guess I can make him do it." And
when Jack comes out to the lawn arrayed in faultless attire, Isabel is sweetness itself. She says: "Dear Cousin
Jack, I am so very glad you have come.
I have been so lonely. These girls are
just as nice as they can be bat they
can't be like old friends or relations,
yon know."
One of Isabel's principles, if you can
call it a principle, is "never speak ill of
other girls when young men are talking
to you." She thinks if is poor policy.
"It only makes the gentlemen dislike
you and .think you're jealous." she
says.
The supper bell rings and the cousins go to the dining-room, where Isabel introduces Jack to the other girls,
with due formality.
He relates his adventures, how he
missed the regular train, and took one
which left him a few miles further
from Hillsdale, ana how he had walked
thither 'by way of Harry's pond."
"Ob! water-fall was there," Bess remarks. And Jack soon feels quite at
home, and as if he had known these
girls all his life.
The next day he helps Harry rebuild
his dam ; but the obdurate boy can see
no good in Jack ; first impressions are
lasting ones with Harry, and, moreover,
he discovers that he has a rival in the
good graces' of Prue. Jack is fond of
taking long walks, and asks permission
to accompany Prue on her botanical
quests. Singularly enough, Bess discovers the fact that she has been keeping too still for the good of her constitution, ahd she must take these walks
too, and Madge and Lucy always do
what Bess does, so they go, too. Isabel
is not to be left behind, but she does not
enjoy these walks, for Jack does not
seem inclined to talk to any one but
Prue; he will carry her tin box and dig
up all the specimens, and when he is at
the house he is much more inclined to
study botany than French, or even Eng
lish. Bess asks him in vain to 'read
English, with her, just to improve her
accent, and give it the  New York
twist,' but no, he 'has no time-'
Isabel is distressed, but she can do
nothing. All her plans fall to the
ground and she feels that she is a much-
abused individual. It is a little trying
to see the matter-of-fact way in which
Prue receives Jack's devotion. She
thinks but little about the matter apparently, except that she considers him
a very agreeable young man, and a
great help to her in her botany. He
improvises from an old table, a board
and some large stones a press for her
plants, and here he and Prue spend
many a blissful hour. Perhaps fair
Prue does not stop to think why they
are such happy hours. Jack tells himself that he must have 'fallen in love
with Prue at the same time he fell into
the brook.'
Bess is in an unusually quiet state.
•Nothing lively turns up,' after all, for
her. She had planned a brilliant campaign; she would beat Isabel on her
own ground, and monopolize Jack. 'But
with Prue it's different,' she meditates.
•I only hope she won't make a goose
of herself, and refuse him."
An extract from a letter Jack writes
to a friend at the elose of his vacation
tells the rest of the story.
•You want to know if there is any
game here, and if I brought my gun.
1 did not bring my gun, but I have been
successful in capturing the very best
kind of game the world affords, the
lovliest little girl you ever saw, and she
has promised never to run away from
me. I didn't have to use a gun, you see.
Cupid did the shooting. Mean fellow!
he hit me, too, and awfully hard at that!
However, congratulate me.'
So we see that Prue did not 'make a
goose of herself.' As for the other girls,
they must philosophically take refuge
in the proverb that tells of the frequent
fate of 'the best laid plans of mice and
men.'
THE mOTTSEHOLD.
Dog Fat for Consumption.
New Tork World.
The attention of a reporter of The
"World was attracted while at the dog
pound by two boys who were carefully
skinning and dressing a dog that had
just been drowned according to law for
vagrancy.
"What are you doing that for?" was
asked.
"Fer consumption," replied one of
the boys. "Fer a two dollar bill," said
the other.
It was finally explained that many
residents of the east side of the city believe that dog fat is an infallible cure
for consumption.
"The boys told you the truth," said
Dr. Ennever, the veterinary stationed
at the pound, who was next questioned.
"A great many people believe that dog
fat and even the flesh of dogs is a sure
cure for consumption, and on an average one dog a week is taken from here
and reduced to medicine."
""Who comes after them ?"
"Generally women, either Germans
or Jews. They come up here, and after carefully examining all the dogs,
select one that seems to be healthy and
fat. They then point out their selection 1o an attendant, who ties a string
round its neck or marks the animal in
some way so as to identify it. The
woman is told on what day that particular beast will be drowned; she returns
at the time specified, gets the body and
turns it over to some of the hoodlums
round here, who for a dollar or two
skin it and take off the fat. If she
wishes the carcass they dres3 it .for her
just as a»butcher would a lamb or calf.
No, yellow dogs have no value in this
way; a black dog is always chosen in
preference to any other color, if he is
fat and healthy."
"How do they take the medicine, as
I suppose they call it?"
"In different ways. Some reduce it
to oil and take it as a liquid by the
spoonful: others try it out and then after it gets cold spread it on bread as
you would buttei and eat it so."
"Do they eat the meat too?"
"Yes; and as a matter of fact its not
bad eating. I've tried it myself, though
I was not aware of it at the time. It
looks like young veal."
"Have you any regular customers ?"
"We had one, a Mrs. Farley, who
used to live at the corner of Avenue A
and Sixteenth street. She was pretty
far gone with consumption, but she
used to come every other week for five
or six months and get a nice fat dog. I
Lave not seen her for some tim9, but I
don't think she's dead. Some one told
me she was living over on Ninth ave.
But as a general thing we don't know
our customers' names. This superstition is so general on the east side that
many of the drug stores keep dog fat
or oil in stock. There are any number
of these household remedies for different diseases. Through Yermont and
New Hampshire the fat of skunks is
used as a cure for croup and rheumatism. Then at the south negroes use
dogs' flesh as a cure for rheumatism.
The dog must be jet-black or the medicine is without effieacy. "When the
animal is chosen it is tea. on nothing
but the lungs and liver of raccoons until it is so fat it can hardly walk, when
it is killed and eaten. After that if
the patient is not cured he is perfectly
assured that his pains and aches are
attributable to some other cause."   '
During the last six years over 48,000
dogs have l)een drowned at the pound.
So far this year 3,007 have been received, 2,674 drowned, 98 redeemed, 3 returned by order of the authorities and
232 are now awaiting death.
De Chair and Aram —An Alexandria dispatch of August 5 says: Latif
Effendi returned yesterday from Arabi's
lines. He reports being present at the
following conversation between Arabi
and Midshipman DeChair:
Arabi—"Would you rather remain
with me or return to Alexandria?
De Chair—I wish, to return,
Arab!—Why?
De Chair—My duty is with the guns
at Alexandria.
Arabi, then, addressing his officers
said: "This boy is an example to yoju
all. Do not allow a hair of his head
to be harmed. I only wish he was born
an Egyptian instead of an Englishman."
A Bit of "Wilderness.
One who has tried it says there is
nothing like a "wild garden" to rest the
weary house-wife when the ever recurring "to-morrow and to-morrow and tomorrow," baking and churning and
cleaning and mending grows too monotonous. To make such a garden, select a portion of the yard that is shaded at least a part of the. day and is not
too far from the dwelling—fourfeenby
eighteen feet will be found a very satisfying size. Fowls and all sorts ©f intruders must be rigorously excluded,
no matter how rude the fence so it
serves the purpose and does not exclude
the view within, even when sitting
down on a rustic seat which must be
arranged near by. Next go to the
woods the first time the gbodman is
driving that way, or to the wild prairie,
or even along the roadside many a treasure may be found; go equipped with a
spade and an old can or basket; dig up
with plenty of soil so the roots will not
be"exposted, several of every kind that
you can And of the sweet flowers that
you loved so well when a child; set
these in your enclosure and carefully
mulch the roots with the dead leave-*
and grass you found where they were
growing.
Shrubs and vines, if desired, are Oest
planted elsewhere; they make too rampant a growth for your little garden,
and shade the smaller plants too much!
Do not set the flowers in rows or in
any particular order, but dot them
about here and there in clumps of a
kind, setting them pretty close together
so as to leave no room for weeds—tut
the latter will give little trouble if the
ground is kept well mulched. The
garden will be completed when it contains one of every sort of desirable
wild flower that grows in your vicinity, and when you have a succession of
bloom from early spring to late fall.
The very thought of such a garden is
reBtful. No hoeing, no weeding, and
yet it will present you with something
fresh and lovely every day through the
growing season. Do not get discouraged at mishaps the first year; a little
perseverance will replace failures and
a little watchfulness will bring respect
for your bit of wilderness. The old
dog will cease to think the shade of
your May apples a desirable place for
peaceful dreams when he discovers
tbat that particular locality is subject
to sudden showers. It will happen in
the course of years that the survival
of the strongest will drive out some
delicate favorite; then you must apply
your restraining hand and teach the
would-be monarch that strength is not
the only test of worth. In the fall before severe cold weather begins, follow
natures method and blanket your gar
den with a few inches of dead leaves;
if not obtainable, short straw or h£y
will serve tlie purpose; this mulch must
not be raked off m spring; a light coafc
ing of fine chip dirt from the woodpile
will be found beneficial at any time.
The annual mulch and top dressing
with chip manure is all the cultivation
such a garden as has been described
received for over seven years, and it
has been a perfect success, giving s wee
re»t and recreation to both mind and
body of the owntr, besides supplying
to thelittle ones of the household inexhaustible material for valuable botanical study.—J". Jf. M. in Tribune.
Tomatoes as Food.
When it comes to shedding light on
the world Pennsylvania beats all the
rest of the States. It isn't her example, howevpr; it's her kerosene.—Philadelphia Chronicle.
Tomatoes, remarks an authority, are
not without some defects as an article
of food. They are not, like milk, a
perfect diet of themselves, and besides,
like most other articles of food, they
contain some obnoxious qualities. But
they need not be thrown aside on that
account. Nature has provided us with
sufficient excretory organs that obnoxious matter in our food, if in moderate
amount, is*readily cast out, and the
body is protected against any material
injury. Were it not so, we should be
obliged to throw out of our dietary
many kinds of food now eaten, not only with impunity, but with advantage.
Thus, red cabbage, cherries and peaches
contain prussic acid, which is a deadly
poison when taken In sufficient quantity. The very small amount of the
poisoning acid these vegetables contain
is cast out of the system without any
material injury to the person using
them. A positive good may actually
be derived from the use of food containing some such foreign matter, by way
of giving increased activity and strength
to the excretory organs from their exercises in casting such foreign matter
from our bodies, provided the quantity
is not so great as to overburden them.
Since we are all the time liable to take
in our food substances the tendency of
which is harmless, a good development
of efficiency in our excretory organs is
necessary to protect us against the pernicious effects which might otherwise
occur. Almost every kind of grain and
fruit in use contain more or less things
which in a larger amount would prove
hurtful. Unless we closely study our
food, we are taking them in when we
little suspect it. A Frenchman, not
many years ago, discovered a substance
in wheat bran, under which the high
heat used in baking, dissolved out and
spread over the crumbs of bread of
which bran forms a part, and discolored it, and hence the brown stain peculiar to graham bread. But from this
discovery such bread has not been rejected, but continues to be accounted
among the most wholesome kinds of
food. Rye is seldom used without containing more or less ergot, but rye
bread is also reckoned among the most
healthful. Tea contains tannic acid,
apples contain malic acid, lemons and
oranges citric acid, on one of which is
used either in nutrition or respiration,
but they only become objectionable
when uned excessively.
 ^
Unclean Cellars.
Dr. Footo-s Monthly.
At the late meeting of the Sanitary
Association, Dr. Bell is reported as having said that one of the first places to
reform in the school house is the cellar,
whence, he said, arise foul gases. He
further remarked that he knew "hotels
in New York, some of the largest and
highest priced, with cellars forty feet
deep, which breed pestilence, and disease-exuding miasm more fatal than
those of the marshes of New Jersey."
It is gratifying to see that physicians
and others are calling attention to the
cellar. A few years ago the Health
Monthly gave an editorial on the
subject, and so far as we know were
the first to call attention to the dangers
which lurk in the cellar. Shortly after
that article appeared we were pleased
\
to see that Henry Ward Beecher alluded to the same subject in a sermon.
Cellars in city houses are bad enough,
but generally they are not so fruitful
of mischief as the cellars in farm-houses.
Every fall the provident farmer lays
away in barrels and bins an inexhaustible supply of potatoes, turnips, carrots,
apples, etc.. As spring approaches the
work in the fields is so pressing he forgets the decaying vegetation in the
cellar, and all summer long this decay-
-iBgjtuffis allowed to remain sending
miasm up through the house every
time the cellar door is opened. If the
mechanical work of the house is not
perfect, it finds its way through the
cracks and crevices of floors and walls.
It will well repay the trouble and expense to~~fenovate the cellar every
spring. House-cleaning should not be
considered complete till this is thoroughly done.
Winter Bouquets.
How beautiful are our flour gardens
now! But we should not forget that
winter is coming, when everything will
be covered with snow and ice; therefore,
a few hints on collecting flowers and
grasses for winter bouquets, I think,
will be in order. .
Helichrysums should be cut while in
bud, just before they fully open. Ac-
roliniums should be allowed to fully
open, and then be cut, on a bright, sunny day. Globe amaranths, or winter
clover, can be cut any time before frost,
only do not let them grow too old. All
these are straw flowers, and do much
toward beautifying our homes in winter. We need, however, some grasses.
For bouquets without grasses are like
birds-without feathers. Very few of
us, I am sorry to say, grow ornamental
grasses. But to a certain extent Dame
Nature fills the deficiency, for we have
a large number of grasses that are really beautiful when arranged with Ever
lasting". Eed-top oats, chess or barley
heads are very beautiful, if cut while
green, and dried in the shade. The
flower-stems of Ribbon grass and Briza
Maxima are also valuable.
. My main object in this article was
not so much to give definite directions,
as to put the readers of our Household
Department in mind that now is the
time to gather the articles for their winter bouquets.
A Good Suggestion to Housekeepers.
Housekeeper.
No one knows until they have tried
it, said an experienced housewife, how
much they may. change the aspect of
things about the house by using a little {
varnish. On a sunshiny day take the
old chairs and tables out on the porch
or by the open door, and, after thoroughly wiping and dusting Uiieni off
with a-aampclotb, apply a thin coat of
varnish and so cover up scratt^es and
marred spots of all kinds. It* will be
dry in a very short time, and you will
be surprised to know how much good
you have done. -A flannel cloth, with
a very little linseed oil, is good to rub
furniture with, but the greatest care
must be exercised to prevent any oil
being left on the wood to attract dust.
It must be rubbed until you would not
know, except by the improved appearance, that any oil had been used.
» ■
For mantel lambrequins the pleasant-
est summer wcrk is done on the new
coarse linen canvas called Aida canvas,
and wrought in double cross stitches
with single zephyr wool. This work
grows rapidly, and is simple and easily
done. The -fringe is knotted when
bought, and the needle-woman ties in
wools of different colors in each strand
of the fringe; a border of drawn-work
is also completed above the fringe.
Heavier felt lambrequins are ornamented with couching in large stars, red,
olive and old dull blue, on olive, brown
or gray felt. For ornamenting a long
cover for the top of a buffet fruit designs are much used, such as bunches
of cherries, clusters of strawberries, or
blackberries strewn all about, or else
there is a large fruit piece on each end;
while others have designs of fish, punchbowls, a trussed turkey, oysters on the
half-shell, or perhaps a plum pudding
is represented with brandy burning upon it.
Girls and- Housekeeping.—Mrs.
Livermore contends that If mothers
would train their girls as housekeepers,
at the youthful period when girls
would be delighted to learn, they would
then take to housekeeping as naturally
as ducks take to water. She does not
recommend, however, that instruction
should be confined mainly to domestic
duties, or that marriage should be considered the principal aim of the fair
sex; but advocates a system of broad
and liberal tuition, which will fit women for any of the probable contingencies of life, render them self-dependent,
and fully develop their varied faculties.
STRANGERS TO OUR SHORES.
A FAMILY OF GELLADA APES CAUGHT
WHILE ON  A   FORAGING   EXPEDITION IN ABYSSINIA.
New York World.
A family of apes of the Gellada species are now domiciled at the establishment of Messrs. Chas. Reiche & Bro.,
55 Ciiatham street. They are the first
of this order ever seen in this country,
and were caught on the highest peaks
of the Simien Mountains, in Abyssinia,
in October last. Two are males and
one is a female. The larger male is
about four feet in height, and, like all
others of the species, its body is sparsely
covered with thin black hair, while the
head and shoulders are covered with a
thick, heavy growth of jet-black hair
nearly a foot long. There is a triangular bare spot on the'breast and leading
from it are two bare streaks which go
half way around his neek. This spot
clearly shows to the attendant the temper of the animal, as it changes from a
milk-white when docile to a deep crimson when in anger. As he was unusually quiet when the World reporter
was present yesterday morning the attendant volunteered to "stir him up"
and show what a temper he had. This
was done and instantly the white spot
changed to a livid red. It is said that
they are so vicious that the natives, are
afraid to hunt them. Two German
travellers, Messrs. Schrimper andHeug-
lin, claim that these apes grow to the
size of a man, that they live in caves
and subsist usually on worms and insects which they obtain by turning
over the boulders. They sometimes,
however, come down in troupes of
thousands to the valleys and devastate
the cornfields of the natives. It was
on one of these foragbig expeditions
that those now in this city were captured. The method of hunting them is
to chase them with fleet native dogs
which depend solely on their speed and
vision, as they have not the power of
scent, so that if they once lose sight of
the object of their chase the hunt is at
ouee abandoned. The only previous
specimens of Gellada apes ever captured were sent to Germany. The fact
that those now in captivity eat hay and
oats is regarded as extremely singular,
as they are the only species of the ape
tribes known to do so. Each one of the
family has two large "tusks" in the
upper jaw about four inches long. In
the same consignment Messrs. Reiche
& Bro. received two young African
elephants thought to be brothers of
"Jingo," the elephant lately sent to the
London Zoological Gardens to take the
place of Jumbo.
Work and Play.
Play has been defined as doing for the
sake ol doing, while work.is doing not
for its own sake but for the sake of
what is done. Work looks to results,
and it is the end that crowns it. Therein lies the manfulness of labor as dis-
tingu shed from the childishness of play.
The impulse to action is instinctive.
With the infant, action is spontaneous
and automatic. It has no purpose at
all—none at least that the infant himself knows anything about. With the
man who is something more than an
adult baby every act has, or ought to
have, conscious motive and an intelligible object. Iu his moments of leisure
he is more reposeful than the child, because he sees nothing to be gained in
being otherwise, This explains a great
part of what is called the natural indolence of mankind. Supply the laziest
man living with inducement, give him
something desirable to compass, and he
will show that he is not wholly without
energy. But no sane grown man hankers after unnecessary and resultless
work. It is a mere matter of common
sense not to do anything unless there is
some use in doing it. Pleasure or simple exercise may be the object of activity, and either of these is legitimate and
sufficient reason for putting forth an
effort; but when there is nothing whatever beyond the effort, and no accompanying good of any sort in it, the man
might as well give himself a rest.
      » » »	
In reply to the question. "Will the
cominst man be bald?" the Norristown
Herald affirms that "he generally is
when he first comes."
Amateur Incompetents.
Typographical Advertiser.
We see every day stately and substantial edifices being built up around
us.   We frequently conceive the idea
of building for ourselves.   Our first
move is to consult some reliable architect, from whom we receive the plans
of the b uilding.   These may receive alteration   or improvement  from  our
hands.   We give the plans into the
hands of a  trustworthy  builder, by
whom, under the supervision of the
architect, the building is erected.   The
building is turned over to us, finished,
as a safe and  comfortable  place  of
abode.   This Is as it should be.   But
suppose we, who know nothing about
the science and mechanism necessary
to erect a house, sheuld endeavor to
build one.   Would we live in it ?   Certainly not!   'Tis nothing but the offspring of incompetency and botch-work,
and our lives would not be safe in such
a rickety edifice a moment.   We wish
to guide thesft remarks, in   a gentle
manner, in the direction of that prolific
being—the amateur printer.   Now be
it far from us to discourage the aspirations of the rising young of this generation.   But the miserable evidences we
see on all sides of their attempts in
the mysteries of typography, compel
us, through  charity, to peremptorily
shut down all support, aid, and encouragement they may look to us for. Who
that has regard for success, for reputable position among the business classes
of the community, will circulate, in
broad daylight, these emblems of printing, of the rickety building pattern, in
this age of beautiful typographical development!   Did these imitative tools
of the "art preservative" remain in the
hands of the youth, as toys, no condemnation might be issued   against the
pleasures resulting from such use. But,
as is often the case with many boys,
after two or three years' apprenticeship
in a printing office, and having barely
learned the correct position and requirements of type-setting, graduate into the
world full-fledged   printers—so  with
this other cla s.   Their model press no
sooner starts working than.flushed with
ardor, and desirous of conquering the
difficulties of a visiting-card or a drug-
label, they circulate themselves among
their   friends  soliciting  work.   And
cases have been known where  their
aspiration so intoxicated them as to
cause them to issue a card of their own,
with the mystic word "Printer" in close
proximity to their names!   Their building will not stand, and he who lives in
it or patronizes this class of spoilers
will surely come to grief.   Cheap work
brings cheap results.
* No sounder advice than this can be
given.   When  you  desire   creditable
printing—printing that will be read by
an enlightened community, who will
judge your wares or business qualifications by the manner you set them forth,
when you desire to encourage legitimate trade, to support competent workmen, to frown down all botcher3, go to
headquarters—go to the   architect—
who is tbe printer; go to "the builder—
who is the competent compositor—and
you will have work that will stand—
printing that you will not be ashamed
of, and that will bring you trade and
profit.
 « ♦ .	
Instruction in Forestry.
i
ing desire on the part of land agents,
land stewards and bailiffs to acquaint
themselves with the scientific and technical treatment of plantations, woods
and forests, as a means of fitting thkn
for the more satisfactory management
of landed estates in the United Kingdom.   The memorialists believe tliat
no suitable provision exists at any! of
the great centres of instruction in England for the teaching of natural science
in its special reference to forestry, nor
for the scientific teaching of sylviculture in any of its branches; and arejof
opinion that by grafting itinerating
classes for observation of the practical
method adopted in the regularly w orked
forests abroad on classes for scientific
teaching at home, established in connection with such, a school as already
exists at   Cooper's   Hill, satisfactory
means could be afforded of enabling
students to obtain the requisite know!-""'
edge, both theoretical and practical, jto
qualify  them for entering  upon the
duties appertaining to forest management, whether in India, the Colonies ior
elsewhere.     They   therefore  express
their earnest hope that steps may jbe
taken by the Council to establish a department for the teaching of forestry
in the Royal Engineering College jat
Cooper's Hill. ;
 1 » ♦ > i            i        j
Ten Thousand Clerks. !
The growing interest which is being
developed in this country in the cultivation and preservation of our native
forests seems only to be a part of a
general movement in the same direction in older countries. Thus a memorial has just been presented by the
Council of the Society of Arts, London,
to the Secretary of State for India "calling attention to the great and growing
demand for the services of persons
skilled in forest cultivation and analogous occupations, in India and the
Colonies generally, and to the increas-
The government and its employies
bear a relation to our city somewhjat
similar to that of a college and its students to the little New England village
where it is located. There are enough
officeholders who are residents of Washington to make a good sized city bf
themselves. In the various departments the work goes on the same f rob.
one year's end to the other, and one
would scarcely realize how great the
number of employes in the various departments is. The number Is about
10,000. This is exclusive of the eapit-
ol, city postoffice, and district government offices. This body of government
employes form not only a large but ja
very intelligent and agreeable element
of the population of Washington. A
large proportion of them are people Of
thought, education, andxefinement,and
their presence would ba an acquisition
to any community. j
The remuneration of the employes bf
the departments varies somewhat, biit
generally the salaries range from $900
to $2,000 for clerical work, the ikit'er
being given to those who occupy Responsible or particularly important positions, and the first generally to copyists,
a great many of whom are ladies. The
latter are hard-worked and they work
well and receive the smallest remuneration, but the wolf is. .kept from tjie-
door of many a family by their'earnest
endeavors. A great many of them onj^e
belonged to families of wealth, but reverses came, and they are glad to be
able to work for a living. In the treasury department there are 500 lady
clerks; and in the bureau of engraving
and printing as many more. In the
treasury and interior departmen'ts
changes are most frequent, and it jis
there mostly that women are employed,
and every now and then there arexju-
mors of pending changes which get
their hearts fluttering with dread until
the danger Is over. I
A position in the state department^
considered a permanent thing. It jis
jrun on a plan similar to our army and
navy. Whensome one dies promotions
take place, and there is a chance-^cai,,,
an appointment. In the war and nayy
departments, also, changes do not oftjan
occur, and many a clerk, whose hair lis
now white, entered the service when a
young man. Employes perform their
labors in a remarkably satisfactory
manner. In fact, itis apparent tliat
the government clerk, taken on the
average, has greatly improved in maiiy
respects within the past dozen years.|—
Washington News.     . I
A Poor Woman's Tribute.      !
Cincinnati Commercial. j
Death, a universal certainty, is! a
universal shock, but when the victim
is one widely known, widely useful and
influential, and more than* all, widely
beloved, the surprise is joined to universal grief. Such is the invaders
tread in the circles of our city. Dr. "W".
H. Mussey, whose name is a household
word, lies cold in death; as swift as a
weaver's shuttle was the flight from
time to eternity. Every department
and every individual has lost a friend.
The poor have lost a" benefactor.      I
Walking through the husy market
place this morning a little aged la!dy
was met; whose habitual presence |at
the services of the Y. M. C. A. lias
familiarized a large number with tihe
kindly, withered face. Though poor
in this world's goods, utterly without
relatives, she is rich in. faith towird
God. As we met her hand was eagerly extended, and with a quick grasp
came the words, "Do you know Mx.
Mussey is dead ?" "Oh, yes, Dxr "Mjaa
seyisdead.^ Did you know him?"! I
replied, surprised at her excited manner. "Yes; he was the best friend I
ever had; he is all the friend I have'' in
this world." t
"How is it?"
"Why, for twenty-eight years he has
paid my rent.   Oh, I must mourn
him." *.  v^
The tears flowed like rain over fhe
wrinkled face as she continued:      t
"Not long since he met me and sjaid.
I looked too thin and weak, andhe-vjyas
afraid I didn't have enough to eat, And
then told his boy to buy me a basketful
of good things, and said I must jeat
them all up, and get fat; and after the
boy left, he put in my hand a two foliar and a half gold piece and told mk to
buy a new dress; and that's the way he
has taken care of me for all these long
years. Oh, what shall I do? Iamiull
of mourning;-' and again she wept!almost heart-broken. I
for
Domestic Hapehs-kss.—The harmbny
of married life depends almost entirelyjup-
on dirua ers. It is not the state of the hfeart
so much, as the condition of the stomach,
which makes a man happy. It is better for
a -woman—rank heresy, we know—to "be.
able to make a cheerful home than to -•palkT
Greek. Before marriage, the ability to §ing
divinely and to play impossible music 1 are
very attractive; but •when two people settle
down to the steady Tvork of loving <>aeli
other for forty or fifty .years,, the Mtclien
inevitably emphaizesitself, and the chalices
of success are greater with a coriiely
house-wife than "with an accomplished
beauty, -who knows everything except how
to make the house attractive. |.
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