1882-06-29; Saline Observer

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PS
NISSLY & EMMERT, Publishers.
>d
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BUSINESS DIRECTORY.
PKOFESSIOjSTAI,.
a W. OHA.-rTDI.BS, _T. P.,
Physician and Surgeon.
All callspromptly attended to.   Office at; residence, first door north of M. E. Churoh.
tlty
0
C. JENKINS,
Surg hit and Mechanical
DENTIST.
Office, 13 South Main Street, opposite First
National Bank,
___tn j_-rTDO_".   -  _v_icii.
or.
Tt P.jffdjACELAKT,
Physician and Surgeon,
Office and residence opposite M. E. Church,
Adrian street, Saline, Mich.
T7i JONES & SON,
,   *        Attorneys,
Ail kinds of legal papers neatly and correctly
-drawn. Collections made and promptly remitted.  Office on Mc Kay street, Saline, Mich.
E.JOSES. __j_sk E. Joses.
T
T^IE.
B. GIKD AST,
Attorney at Law,
And Justice of the Peace.   Office overNichols
Bro'e.. store, Chicago street, Saline, Michigan.
W e. _arjvcPEE.sy,
Real Estate Agent.
Government Lands located. 20,000 acres of
choice wheat lands for sale. Correspondence
solicited.  Ellsbury, Barnes Co., D. T.
j>,
Sg.
SEISCEIiIxAKEOirS.
rsE,
fVlrs. W. F. LARZELERE,
The Old and Keliaole
DRESSMAKER and CUTTER
Again offers her services to the ladies of
this vicinity,
PS-ICES K,EA.SOISr^.BXJSi
and Satisfaction Guaranteed.     Shop at
residence on Henry street, west.
MISS A,
Would inform the p^opl-* < >r Valine and vicinity
that she is now nreparel ii>d vuli kinds of
DKESS   MAKING,
CattincriindFittin-x.    AH work gnu-intee'I
to give satisfaction.   Il«mi on St-tin st.,
In residence of Mis. Pa li Fowfcr.
mmSzGHwm&n smith
an* open;-'
pel
oner?
_"if-_-»_. Br
Store
Ov
W_?resh/3 willl>
Tuesday of each w
'a drug: store.
in tttt->i 1 '-"ivft*MM?if,on
RflRi
RS.
FOR3ES
f
Invite* fit:" It die* ofgaiine and vicinity to
call and examine h»r t-l'*garit ne,v stock of
SL.. Sprioi&Syiiefliffliiaiflool
Booms ov<?r Davenp >rt & Son's stor
THE KING OP THE PLOUGH.
| Tha sword is re-shesiued tit its scabbard.
' -J^r* riflehangs ran- on the wall:
ISO longer we quail hi i.he hungry
'    Ilotrusn ofthe ravenous ball—
The war-cloud has hurled its last lightning-.
Its last awful thunders are stil 1,
While the Demon of conTuct in Hades
liies fettered in force a?, it will:
Above the broad fields uial he ravaged,
What monarch rules blissfully now?
Oh! crown him withbavs that arc bloodlesK—
The King, thebrave 3CUig of Oie Plough!
A KiDg! ay! what Kuler more potent
Has ever swayed earth by liisn<. civ
A. monarch! ay, more than a monarch—
A. homely, butbountifnl Goal
He stands where in earth's sure protection
The seed-grains are scattered aud sown,
To uprise in serene resurrection
VVhen Spring her soft trumpet hath blown!
A monarch! yea, more than a monarch.
Though to)l-dro_s are llilcS: on his brow;
Oh! crown him with corn-leaf and wheat-
leaf—
The King. thestrongKiDg of the Plough!
Through the saadow and shiue of past ages
(While tyrants were blinded with blood,)
He reared the pure ensign of Geres
By meadow, and mountain, aud flood—
And the long, leafy gold of his harvests
The earth-sprites anu air-sprites has spuu.
Grew rhythmic when swept by the breezes,
Grew loyal when kissed by tbe Mitt ;
Before the stern cnarrn ol his patience
What rock-rooted forces must, bow!
Come! crown hint with corn-leaf and wheat-
leaf—
The King, the bold King of the Plough!
Through valleys of balm-dropping myrtles,
By banks of Arcadian streams,
Where the wind-songs are set. to the mystic
Mild murmur of passionless dreams;
On tha storm-haunted uplands of Thule,"   •
By the ice-girdled floods and fioes.
Alike speeds the spell of his godhood,
The bloom of his heritage glows;
Amonarch! yea, more than a monarch—
AH climes to his prowess must bow;
Come! crown him with bays that; are stainless— _
The King, the brave King- of the Piou?h.
Par, far In earth's uttermost future,
As boundless of splendor as scopp,
I see the fair Angel—Fruition,
Outspread his high heralds of Hope;
The roses of joy rain around him,
The lilies of sweetness aud calm,
Por the sword has  been  changed  to  Ice
ploughshare,
The lion lies down with lamb!
O angel majestic! We know thee,
Though raised and transfigured art thou—
This lord of life's grand consummation
Was once theswart ICtng of the Plough!
MY MOTHER'S. GB_7E.
GEO. R. SHERMAN,
The old and reliable
*^-^1t¥agon and Carriage Maker,
!     r«      \ Jfob work and repairing promptly done at reas-
f     ",      "        onable rates.   Shop on Chicago St., west.
!
iPfr
rmoM WEBB,
THE   PEACE,
I&1.00
nes foi-
as
.EL
JUST
And Insurance Agent.
•COXYEXXSCISB ATTENDED TO PROMPTLY.
Special Attention (xiven to Collections.
Office 2d door west of the postoffice.
E. A. REYNOLDS,
Notary Public, Real  Estate,
insckascs as_ coij£j2gtiox agkncv.
Office over JT. (•. Putnam &C.»'s. store, Milan,
Jfieh.   Ail Jiusinos? entrusted to me will
rec.'ive prompt attention.
Patronize.    Tlr©    Soys I
KAUSER~& CLARK,
Proprietors of
THE NEW LIVERY STABLE,
 At the	
GxjD AMERICAN HOUSE BAB1T,
RE,
8. B1EHEMAHM,
Dealer in the celebrated
Meriden Co.fs Silver Ware !
And "Watches, Clocks & Jewelry.
Headquarters at Residence, on Henry St., 2nd
door east of Baptist church.
THOMAS ECCLES,
The Pioneer
BOOT AND SHOE MAKER.,
fa now located in the Burg: building, on ■
Chicago St., where he will be glad to see all
his old customers and many new ones.
Repairing Neatly and Promptly Done.
Ition.
W. HELLER & SON.
Horse Shoeing & Blacksmifbing
If your horsft f or#>T>, tatei-n»re-* or i« irregular
In his gait, j?ive i« a enll nad ve will regulate him so he will not anoy you.
Special Attention Oiyen
To horses having; wexk and diseased feet.
SHOP ON aNX ARBOK STREET.
The trembling dewdrops fall
Upon the shutting flowers; like souls at rcsi,
The stars shine gloriously; and all,
Save me, are blest.
Mother, 1 love thy grave,
The violet, with its blossoms blue and mild,
Wave o'er tby bead; when will it wave
Above thy child?
'Tis a sweet flower, yet must
Its brightleaves to themorning tempeslbov??
Dear mother, 'tis thine emblem; dust
Is on tby brow.
And I could love lo die;
To leave, un tasted, life's dark, bitter streams-;
By thee, as erstin childhood, lie,
And share thy dreams.
And I must linger here,
To stain tbe plumage of my sinless years,
And mourn the hopes to childhood dear,
With bitter tears.
Aye, I must linger here,
A lonely branch upon a withered tree,
"Whose last, frail leaf, untimely sure,
Wont down with thee.
Oft from life's withered bower,
in still commotion with thepast, I turn
And muse on thee, the only flower
In memory's urn,
And when the evening pale
Bows, like a mourner, on the dtm.biue wave,
I stray lo hear the night winds wail
Around the grave.
Whereis thy spirit flown?
I gaze above- thy look is imaged there!
I listen, and tby gentle tone
Is on the air.
O come while here 1 press
Sly brow upon thy grave, and in thosemild
And thrilling tones of tenderness,   «
Bless, bless thy child.
Yes, bless your weeping child;
And o'er thine urn, religion's holiest shrine,
O give his spirit, nndefiled,
To blend with thine.
A EED M1TTEM.
g
CEOROE   EH MIS.
.'Merchant Tailor and Cutter.
I have a full line of samples of goods carried
'bya leading eastern. j)boing house, which I
• will furnish my customers at
* "WHOLSSALB  PRIOE-
I buy my f rlmming-4 of Jobbers and give my
.eoatomera the benefit. Don't buy any thing in
the <;lothing line until you have examined my
ssampleg and got my prices, I will save you
iinoney, AH work warranted. Shop over Day-
senports _ Boa's; store.
„„ w. is. isiuM/.
BLITON & ISBELL,
PROPBIETOBS OK THE
LiverVi Sale and Feed Stables,
STAGE AND DBAY LINES,    .
Office,   South ^^treet,W Broadway,
TOWER CITY, DAKOTA.
Stages -to  ^^^^&&tJTe
eVerSfShe&So^ble rates,
QOHAIBEK & SCHMIDT,
Proprietors of the Union Block
MEAT  MARKET.
'    — All kinds ot -~
MEAT, POULTRY, FISH ETC
At _owestLirfn_ Prices, ffo, %.XTnitoC Bioofc
faline, Michigan.
It was the afternoon o£ a clear, sharp
January day of 1861, and the company
numbered fully two hundred men; there
were men and women, boys and girls,
flying and circling about in masses,
singly, by dozens, and by twos and
threes, oyer the frozen surface of the
beautiful Silver Lake, in Rockdale, a
suberb'of the beautiful city of B .
JS"ew England is dotted with these small
bodies of water, and it is astounding to
recount what a surprising number bear
the name of Silver. And so, on Silver
lake, this goodly company was disporting itself with all the gaiety and zest
the keen, brazing air and exhilarating
sport combined to produce.
Among .the crowd were many lads
and lasses who imagined they were fond
of skating, and came to Silver lake for
no other reason. It was singular, too,
to note how much more gracefully the
"outward roll" backward or forward
could be accomplished by joining hands
or being linked together by a walking-
stick.
Abbie Latham, the daughter of the
'Squire, with her rosy, comely figure,
and fresh, handsome face, could have
led awkard .John Horton, on or off his
skates, anywhere, with an apron-string
or thread for a conductor. _Tot so with
John. He could lead her nowhere ; and
the more the girl could balk and tantalize him, the more she seemed to enjoy
the skating and Ms company, Many a
ludicrous figure he cut, and many a
fall he endured by lier sudden and unaccountable turns aud sbiftings, and
her mirth and glee were at the highest
at John's repeated failures to follow her
difficult and tortuous windings. John
was overgrown and massive, his twenty
years of existencenot having yet served
to properly knit together and round out
the proportions of hisframe. She was
blithe and quick, and as graceful as she
was skillful in the use of skates.
Apart from the throng, this afternoon, John espied a little rod mitten
lying on the ice, where it had been
dropped by some one of the numerous
children. Miss Abbie saw it, too, and
as John, by one of his graceful movements, essayed to stoop and capture the
article, she refused to release his hand;
but, just as he bent forward she gave
a wicked pull, and John, unbalanced,
was sent sprawling a rod or two beyond. A peal of silvery laughter was
her sympathetic comment, as with a
graceful curve she turned and caught
the tiny thing in her band.
John blushed at his awkwardness,
and held out his band to receive the
mitten.
But the captor only held it before
him, and gently moved away.
'Won't you give it to me V he asked.
«I will find the owner.'
'I can find the owner more easily
than you. I can't trust you; you would
fall and cru^h the poor thing in trying
to deliver it.' And she saucily laughed
again.
4Xou made me fall,' said John, in a
grieved tone. 'You are always doing
these things. If I skated more and
studied less, I'd soon be as much an
adept as your friend, Joe Sfcaples.whom
you are always praising.'
.'As graceful as Joe Staples?'   And
Observer
'%**~**~*s
SALINE, WASHTENAW COUNTY, MICHIGAN, THURSDAY, JUNE 29, 1882.
VOL. II. NO. 33.
tae hilarity of the young maiden made
John Horton's sluggish blood course
through his veins till his face was as
red as the scarlet kerchief that encircled
his neck. All the rest of that afternoon John was gloomy and silent. He
moved around mechanically, or rather,
automatically, and his companion con-
eluded to serve no more tricks upon
him.
The sport finished, the two wended
their way to the house of Mr. Latham,
John's fair companion failing to rally
him into anything like conversation.
He answered her only in monosyllables
and seemed morose and preoccupied.
As he was about to take his leave, John
said, seriously, and a little sarcastically, "Abbie, I'm going back to college,
to-morrow, and I hope you will enjoy
the rest of the skating season in companionship more graceful than mine.'
'I hope I shall,' replied she, in the
same tone. 'You must feel bad about
something; perhaps it's the mitten; you
had better take it, no not now—I won't
give it up. If I ever think enough of
you to surrender it, I'll send it to you by
express.'
And then she smiled on John, with
rare sweetness, but John had seen that
smile before, and felt she was only
mocking him. So with a solemn good
night, he buttoned his coat close to his
chin, and with hands resolutely thrust
into his pockets, turned homeward, resolved to waste no more time with
skating girls, who judged young men by
the dexterity they exhibited in handling
their heels.
Among the earliest volunteer regiments that left for the seat of war in
the summer of 1861, was the 70th
Massachusetts, with Lieutenant John
Horton as an officer of Company B.
Like hundreds of others he abondoned
his books for the sword, and had passed nights and days in study and drill,
to fit himself for his new position. Horton enjoyed the reputation among his
fellows of being rather an anchorite.
He was reticent, sometimes gloomy,
and although he performed his duties
acceptably, he had thus far failed to
show any distinguishing qualities for a
military career. The officers had arranged to have an "opening," in the
colonel's quarters, and thither all who
were not on duty repaired. The evening was, of course, most eujoyable,
for nearly every * one had received from home some gift or token to remind him of a mother, sister or sweetheart, sometimes of all three. Horton
was present, cool, gloomy and indifferent. He did not expect any present.
His family was scattered, and many of
those nearest to him to whose loving
sympathy he would naturally turn at
this time had passed away. He did
not feel in a sentimental or sympathe-
etic mood, and yet no particle of envy
entered his mind in witnessing the enjoyment of others. As the major held
up a small paper box, however, and
called out 'Lieutenant John "WV Horton,' the latter started and felt his face
aglow in an instant. He took the parcel
and in spite of entreaties, in which not
a few jokes were cracked at his expense,
placed it in his pocket till the conclusion of the festivities, when he retired
to the comfortable quarters he shared
with Lieut. Carter.
Horton conducted proceedings with
weighty deliberation, and at last shook
from the box a little red mitten snugly
wrapped in a piece of white tissue
paper. No note of explanation appeared^ and Horfcon met his companion's
gaze with a look in which were pictured at least half a dozen of the emotions
that affect the human mind, the principal one being surprise.
For the next three evenings our
hero was engaged in writing letters—
or rather a letter—for no sooner was
each one completed than it was torn in
pieces and burned. Horton felt himself in a tight fix, and hoped the enemy
wouldmake a demonstratin on the camp
that he might get out of it. He had
rather face a hundred cannon than undertake to acknowledge the reception
of that mitten. He knew he had loved
Miss Latham, but his big sensitive
soul had been terribly lacerated by her
apparently heartless behavior, and he
had concluded to become indifferent,
to all womankind. This might be
another of her heartless tricks, but
when Jack recalled her Avoids, "If I
ever think enough of you to surrender
it I'll send it to you," he felt the little
witch did entertain some regard for
him. Still as she had vouchsafed no
kind message with the surrender of the
mitten, he was at a loss how to act.
The evening was mild and calm.
Scarcely a sound disturbed the sleeping
camps, and as the enemy across the
Potomac were believed to intend no
hostile demonstration, the utmost precaution had not been taken to guard
against surprise. As Jack stood gazing
into the darkness a succession of flashes
lit up the gloom, and the sharp report
of small arms broke the stillness. "Hello! here's for fun J" exclaimed Jack, as
he rushed for accoutrements. The
long roll called the men into line, and
in a few moments the regiment was
prepared to receive tho enemy. Being
one of the officers at hand, Lieutenant
Horton was ordered by the Colonel to
to go forward with a detail of men,
and ascertain the true state of affairs.
Our pickets were retreating the firing,
being answered by stray shots from
the enemy; no judgement of their numbers could be formed, but our panic-
stricken pickets reported them to be
ten thousand strong, at least. Horton
determined to keep cool, and ascertain
for himself the number of the enemy.
He had had little experience of fighting
as yet, and his position was by no
means a pleasant one. In this ma-
nouvre his excellent judgement was
proved, for after studying the situation
as long as it was prudent, ho hastened
to the Colonel, and informed him that
the force consisted of not more than a
regiment of infantry moving directly
for the camp.
A hot skirmish ensued, the fight last-
cd for an hour or two. The demonstration closed with the retreat of tbe
enemy, on whose heels Lieutenant Hot.
ton, whose fighting blood was up, hung
with a tendency that surprised his
brother officers. Jack braved danger
with a coolness that was amazing, and
directed the firing of his men where It
would do the most good. Ifc wasJ his
ambition to capture somebody or something, and be did, a Confederate captain and two privates who were 'sur-s
rounded" by himself and one of his
soldiers. But Jack, fired by this success rashly" pressed ahead for more
plunder, when he was laid low by a
bullet through the shoulder.
Jack Horton was the hero of tnat
night, and was mentioned in the commander's report for his coolness, correct judgment and unflinching bravery.
It needed just such an occasion as this
to bring out what was in the man; but
jack was modest and didn't presume
he had done more than he ought. His
wound was a. painful one, and in a few
days he was on his way to Rockdale,
where the reports of his achievements
had preceeded him. Jack couldn't help
feeling a little curious about how Miss
Abbie would greet him if he chanced
to meet her. He hadn't the remotest
idea of calling on her however. His
time was his country's, and all his leisure moments were passed, even in
those invalid days, in the study of military tactics.
Just before his return to the army,
he attended a fair at Rockdale in aid
of the soldiers. The young lailies were
the principal attractions at this, as at
all the fairs, and among the young
ladies, none were more attractive than
Miss Abbie Latham. She drove a remarkably successful business -at the
flower-stand, one of her principal patrons being Joseph Staples, who purchased at least half her stock, and distributed it with a lavish hand. He
had not gone to war, but had, at least,
and without compulsion, hired a substitute. His patriotism was ardent as
he assured Miss Abbie, but there were
to him other glorious attractions nearer home.
Lieutenant Horton's face was paler,
and his form had become more trim
and manly. His features Abbie noticed
bore an expression of sadness and suffering; he moved without awkwardness, and all the young ladies declared
him to be thehandsomest soldier in the
hall. He won the sword that was voted for, on this occasion, as he deserved to. Jack's heart throbbed a little
as he met the gaze of the young
lady; hut if he felt any emotion it must
have been slight; she was very busy
with her customers, yet, as the lieutenant bade her good evening and turned
away, he saw her eyes droop and a
faint blush steal over her cheek. For
two old friends, so long separated, the
meeting was decidedly cold and formal,
and Jack felt chilled to the marrow.
In the stiring events of the next two
years Horton bore his ftdl share—at
Fredericksburg, Chancellorsville, An-
tietam,Getfcysburg,the'Wilderness,doYVB
to Cold Harbor, where at the head of
his regiment he fell desperately wounded in the terrible and unsuccessful assault on that stronghold. He was conveyed to the hospital at "Washington.
For days Horton's life hung on a thread,
his fevered brain mercifully rendering
him unconscious of suffering. As he
awoke one morning, a soft and gentle
hand was soothing his brow, when the
dampness indicated that the fever Avas
broken. He tried to open his eyes but
was too weak; speak he could not; and
many hours passed before he could discern what was around him. Since the
night of the Cold-Harbor fight his life
had been a bland. He remembered
nothing. And now he saw before him
the physician, and the nurse with a
sweet, pale face, that looked familiar,
but he could not recall the name of its
owner. Again trying to speak the surgeon kindly whispered, "keep perfectly
quiet, and all will be well," and the female attendant, at his motion,withdrew.
The next morning his, dim vision discerned the same pale and anxious face;
and a gleam of wondering inquiry passed over his countenance as he gazed
upon her. At last he feebly whispered:
'Where am I?'
•In the hospital, and with friends,'
3he gently answered. He would have
spoken more but she withdrew. The
next day he was stronger, and he asked,
'Where have I seen you?' At a sign
from the'physician, the nurse answered:
'At your old home. Don't you know
me? I'm Abbie Latham. You are
getting better now, and will soon be
well.'
Miss Latham was sitting by the side
of his cot. arranging a bouquet. The
wounded man had begun to feel like
his old self, and permission was given
him to converse all he desired.
'How long have you been in the hos-
tal, Abbie?'
'More than a year,' she replied in a
sweet, womanly voice. Jack thought
he had never beheld a fairer creature,
the scenes she had witnessed had touched and chastened all that was lovable
and womanly in her nature. She was
no longer a girl—she was a tender,
thoughtful woman.
'You have saved my life,' said Jack,
his eyes filling with tears.
_To, no. Your strength has triumphed. I have done what little I could.
You were terribly hurt!' And her eyes
filled, as she took his hand and gently
pushed the locks from his forehead.
Jack never had felt so happy before
in his life, despite the solemn character of the conversation. 'I can never
repay you Abbie.'
•Perhaps you can,-Jack,' she replied,
with the sweetest and most confiding
smile. 'I found something in your inner vest pocket which has paid me already. And she took from a bloodstained enArelope the little red mitten.
'Then you knew by that token that I
had loved, and had never forgotten,
said Jack.'
'But, Jack; why didn't you answer
my letter? It was cruel of you. I sent
one by po3t to apprise you of my present.   Mr. Staples took it to the office.'
'And I never received it! but all's
well that ends well.'
The little red mitten is a treasured
relic iu the Horton family, and it has
been a Avondering question to the several cherubs that gladden the household Avhy mamma has never knit a
mate to it.
THE FARM
ETothmg Better than Farming.
As a rule, the whale of to-day is as
peaceable and inofCensivo as a'mack-
orel, and stories as to their fits of rage
had come to be regarded as mythic.
But an Australian schooner quietly
pursuing its Avay in March Avas suddenly charged upon a large sperm whale
with such tremendous energy that he
stove a large hole in the starboard bow.
"While water and provisions were being
thrown in ho Avont belovv for the logbook and ship's papers, but tbe vessel
Avent down before he could reach the
deck.
HAbit.—A fish, having entered a
net, complained of the difficulty of
getting out. f'There would be no nets,"
replied the fisherman, "if there were
no difficulty of escape. If you will
have the fun of going in, you must
take the pains of getting out—or staying."
There are a certain class of farmers
who are never satisfied with the results
of their labor, and they look upon the
mercantile business as something to be
envied, and to be got into as soon as
they can raise the necessary capital.
They seldom consider how the successful merchant has striven to establish
himself in the way of making money,
and how watchful he has to be to sustain himself; still, there is no reason
Avhy the same processes may not lead
to as great successes on the laud as in
thestore; indeed, it is a common experience that it is so.   Hundreds of
men every year make money to their
entire satisfaction out of agricultural
or horticultural pursuits.   They   are
not so well knoAvn—do not make as
much show as a storekeeper—agriculturists are too much scattered to make
this imposing  appearance:   but   the
profits Ave speak of are there as surelyj
in the one case as in the other.
These successful businesses are simply the result of a series of experiments as to Avhat can be done. Hardly a business that we know of, that
may be pointed out as illustrative of
great success, achieved that success in
the line marked out for it at the start.
A general knowledge of some one thing
may have suggested the enterprise, but
one after another, as some parts would
be better understood, the least profitable Avouldbe dropped, and, in many
instances, firms that began dealing in a
dozen articles Avould end in only a few.
We have frequently pointed out the
fact, and urged on cultivators that this
is the only way to get into the special
crop business. There is scarcely a district of county in the Avhole United
States but that is able to grow some
one thing or a few things a little better than another thing. It should be a
continued subject of experiment on
every farm as to Avhat will groAv and
thrive remarkably well; and haA'inj
found this out, what would be the
prospects of a good market for it. It
is rare indeed that any one who raises
just exactly what his neighbor does,
ever makes a great stride in the way
of wealth. He makes out of wheat, or
co n, or pork, a fair average living
price; and if he is a little more intelligent than some as to the niceties of
cultivation he may make more than
his neighbors; but the rich farmer is
generally he, who, by careful observation and calculation, is able gradually
but surely to get out of the beaten
track.
The Value of Grass.
It Is said that few understand the
value of a blessing until it is taken from
them, and this is essentially the case
with grass, which is peculiarly the product of" the colder climes. Southern
people boast of their cotton and corn,
and those who go south, AA'rite in ecstasies of the oranges, bananas and
other tropical products; but those who
best understand the true interests of
the South, would sacrifice them all for
grass. Just now, some of the best efforts of the south are turned toward
the production of grass, and the success Avith this or that species forms a
staple topic with correspondents of
various agricultural newspapers. The
trouble heretofore seems to have been
the lack of original investigation
among the Southern people. They see
the grass in the North, and they bring
the seed and soav it South. They try
orchard-grass, and blue-grass, and green
grass, and red-top, and timothy, and
because it fails to a considerable extent, they sit down and cry that grasses
will not do South. There are hot country grasses as well as grasses of the
cool countries. The woods, hills and
valleys of the South, abound with
species just suited to their climate, and
might by experiment and observation,
be just found to meet their agricultural wants. And then there are grasses
from other hot countries Avhich might
be introduced and tested, which would
be found to be perhaps even better
than their own. This Avas the way
here in the North. Hone of our popular grasses are native of our own soil
unless possibly the bluegrass,and even
this is a native of Europe. All in cultivation have been -introduced from
countries Avhose climate and conditions
are somewhatlike our own.
Nature herself, or rather accident,
is teaching the south this lesson. A
small creeping intruder called the
Bermuda has appeared, and is taking
possession of the soil, as it does not
seem to produce seed. It creeps along
from place to place, rooting from its
joints* aud yet according to Mississippi and South Carolina papers, yields
amazing crops of grass, furnishing hay
in good quantity besides continuous
pasture for most of the year. These
creeping grasses are just what the
South needs. It is just Avhat holds
the soil together, and would probably
preA'ent the great land Avashing, of
which the South now complains. Tlie
best grasses are those which creep a
little, and yet have a tufty appearance.
Our red-top, and green-grass are of this
character. No doubt tropical countries
have just such grasses suited to the
South if they were zealously AArorked
for.
At any rate, so far as good tufty
grasses fit for forage is concerned, there
is the native cane, Avhich is a grass,
and one remarkably popular, Avith all
sorts of herbivorous cattle. There is
no reason why this should be left to
groAv in the Avild Avoods, aud cattle left
to gather a precarious subsistence as
best they may through the winter.
From all Ave havo learned from travelers personally and from writings of
intelligent men, the South has in this
cane-grass alone an element of agricultural prosperity far superior to anything our Northern farmers have, but
ifchasbeeu entirely neglected by the
cultivator.
As we have said, grass is a much
greater blessing to a community than
either cotton or corn, and those who
are so anxiously looking all over tho
Avorld for the agricultural reconstruction of the south, will watch with
much interest the development of the
Southern grass question.
Wigs.
"Wigs cost all the way from $10 to
$100, according to the Oneness of the
hair and the excellence of the workmanship. The most costly wigs are
made on a foundation of hair lace.
This kind is called the ventilated wig.
You can part it anywhere like natural
hair, and the appearance of the parting
will be like that of the natural scalp.
Each hair is carefully selected, and
knotted to a mesh of the lace. The
flesh shows through the meshes of the
lace with great naturalness. That is
the kind of a Avig the blonde young
man wore. Cheaper wigs are made by
fastening hair to long threads and sewing strips of it on a foundation less
THE HOUSEHOLD.
The High Price of Meats.
"Well.niy dear," says Mr. Familiman,
as he arises from breakfast, "what
shall we have for dinner?"
Those of our readers who are heads
of families probably ask this question,
day after day, the year round. Man
generally defers to the judgment of his
-sp*" ^tv»-» luuuuanuii ieKS  Detfcer haif on matters relatmg toYood
costly than hair lace.   Even those can- -n-^ ,-,„<.„ .„ 4 ^„„^ „_._.. ? .„. _.v.
not be detected by the ordinary observer, although when you knoAv a
man Avears such a wig you are sure to
notice it. Very often, however, toupees are put on Avith so much skill try
mixing the ends Avith the natural hair
that the art is not perceptible. I think
the tendency is uoav to conceal baldness
rather than let it be seen. True, in
the summer some young men get their
heads clipped, like State Prison convicts or the boys in the poor-house,
but I think the fashion is less favored
than formerly.
"Some experiments have been made
in the direction of transplanting hair
into the skin, but thus far Avithout success. * You know you may stick a pin
through the outer skin Avithout pain.
Hairs have been drawn through holes i
thus made, and roots of hair have been
planted in the skin. But the result
has been to create a little inflammation
and suppuration at the point of contact of the hair with the skin. The
hair lace foundation is the latest improvement, and that is fifteen years
old. The cheaper foundation is called
the "weft" or Avoven. The costliest
hair is that which curls naturally. The
curls may be imitated, but no respectable dealer Avould sell them for natjral
curls. The fraud Avould soon be discovered. There is a better opportunity in a curled wig to conceal our art.
The locks may be carelessly disposed
with more success than where the hair
is straight. Of course I know the
names of many prominent men in all
the professions who wear wigs, but it
it a point of honor with our profession
not to reveal them. We would as soon
think of betraying the name of a lady
Avho wears puffs, braids, switch or
curls of artificial manufacture.
"Many men wear wigs quite as much
for their health as appearance's sake.
It has been found that bald-headed
men are subject to colds, neuralgia and
catarrh. A bald-headed man hi an
audience near a window is a nuisance.
When ethers-Avant the windoAv open to
secure ventilation, he, in consideration
for his bald pate, wants the windoAv
shut. If he puts on his hat nobody
sees that he does it because he is bald,
and he is thought unmannerly. Some
professors and doctors wear caps, but
they look old, and wigs are much better.
"The market is always well supplied
with all colors and shades ot hair, the
best of which is imported. Men don't
•wreathe their brows Avith well-saved
combings,' as women commonly do. It
would not pay men to save the combings. In men's Avigs the cost of the
hair is not so much as the labor. In
women's Avigs the hair is the costliest
part."     - 	
Don't!
Don't let the weeds get the start of
you. Keep the ground wellstirred.and
not only Avill-the weeds be kept down,
but the crops will be greatly benefited
by the loosening and comminution of
the soil—a more important matter, indeed, than the killing of the weeds.
Don't fail to thin out the fruit, if
your trees are heavily loaded. Inexperienced growers are apt to rejoice in
the number of their apples or peaches.
"What a magnificent crop I shall have,"
is the thought of such a one, as he
looks with delighted anticipation upon
his loaded trees. But it isn't numbers,
but size and quality, that count at harvest-time. Thirty or forty fine large
apples are easily worth a hundred or
more small, half-grown specimens.
Two-thirds to three-fourths of the
fruit which sets may often be removed
with advantage.
Don't neglect the kitchen garden. If
properly laid out, so that most of the
work of cultivating can be done witha
horse, the time and trouble required to
keep it in order will not prove a heavy
tax. and the satisfaction derived will
be large. Fresh vegetables in good
variety add much to the pleasure and
wholesomeness of the table, and if
there are children on the farm (that
best of all the farmer's crops) it won't
lessen their attachment to farm life to
be fed plentifully with green peas,
sweet-corn, delicious Limas, and other
"garden sass" in season, freshly gathered.
Don't forget the garden aud orchard
insects. Their name is legion. They
don't forget to be on hand at the proper
time, nor to attend strictly to business.
Learn what they are. Find out their
habits. Keep a sharp eye out for them.
Apply the proper remedies so far as
you can discover what they are, as
promptly as possible. Try to get your
neighbors to do the same, and rid the
whole "country side" of them. Combined action will often do wonders in
clearing a neighborhood of undesirable
visitors. At any rate do your part, and
set a good example.
FOLK NOTES.
The golden wedding of Mr. and Mrs.
Harvey M. Watterson Avill be celebrated next Monday evening at the
home of their son, the Hon. Henry
Watterson, Louisville, Ky. The elder
Mr. Watterson was in ^Congress from
Tennessee years ago; but of late his
active interest in politics has been
chiefly in following the career ofv his
distinguished son.
James Gordon Bennet has paid $S0,-
000 for a residence adjoining his oavh,
cor nor of Thirty-eighth street and Fifth
avenue, New York.
Cyrus W. Field and daughter wilh
tAvo maids lias sailed for Europe,
Edward PierrepOnt, son of the late
Minister to England, has received the
degree ofIB. A. from the University of
Oxford.
General Sheridan and John McCul
lough, the tragedian, will take a sum
mer trip together through the Yellow
stono country.
Rev, A. K. Potter of Springfield,
Mass., Avill deliver the oration at the
eightieth anniversary of the founding
of Greenwich, R. I., Academy, June
22d.
A number of saAV mills in Muskegon
are running night and day.
His duty is to purchase, after a decision
is reached, not to decide himself. So
Mr. Familiman puts on*his overcoat and
brushes his hat, preparatory to going
"doAvn town."
Mrs. Familiman has been thinking
on this subject during the discussion
of the morning meal, and she answers:
"I think some nice steak will be about
as good as anything."
So Mr. Familiman goes to the market
near-by and accosts the white-frocked
gentleman who there presides.
"What are you getting for beef this
morning ?" he asks.
"Well," replies the butcher, "we are
getting thirty-three cents for sirloin—"
"What!" ejaculated Mr. Familiman,
isn't that the highest yet ?"
"Well, yes," says the knight of the
cleaver, "that's about as high a figure
as it's touched."
Mr. Familiman leaves the market
without purchasing. He feels that
Avith his large family and modest salary
the price of steak is too high for him,
and so, perhaps, he wends his Avay to
the nearest fish market, and orders some
fish sent up to his house.
ButMr. Familiman does considerable
thinking as he goes to his place Of business, and finally he concludes that he
wilLgo down to Faneuil Hall and see
what prices rule there. Perhaps he
thinks the butcher in the vicinity of his
home is charging ridiculously high, and
that he can do much better in the large
market. So, during the day, he goes
into the market and inquires the price
of beef.
"Well, sir," says the market man,
"we shall have to charge you thirty
cents for sirloin to-day, and twenty-seven cents a pound for rump."
Mr. Familiman is surprised at the
difference in prices of the market man
and the butcher near his residence, but
he is still unwilling to purchase at such
prices. "What were you getting a year
ago ?" he inquires.
"A year ago," responds the market-
man, "We sold sirloin at twenty-five
cents a pound. Rump wesold for twenty or twenty-two."
"Have all meats advanced in prices
in the "same proportion?" asks Mr. Familiman.
"Yes," replies the butcher, "the advance has heen *all along the line.' We
are getting from four to six cents more
a pound for all kinds of meats than we
got twelve months ago. ~ Roasting
pieces, corned beef, all kinds of steaks,
in fact, meat of every kind is higher
than a year ago, and," ruefully says the
dealer, "It is pretty certain to keep on
going till July or August."
Mr. Familiman has an idea that the
advance in prices of meat means a corresponding adATance in the profit of the
marketman, so, observing his rueful
countenance when he makes his prediction, he says:
"Don't you dealers rather like this
high price of meats ?"
"Bless you, no," emphatically replies
the butcher. "We are actually losing
by it. "Why, there isn't a ghost of a
profit on these prices. "We get our beef
and sell the choice cuts at profitable
prices, but what we call the coarse
meats Ave have to sell at about what
we can get, and the rule is that we seldom make much of a profit on the sale.
We have to sell the beef and I don't believe there is a butcher in the market
who don't feel rather blue about the
prices he is getting."
""Well," says Mr. Familiman' "I have
known that beef was higher in price,
and had some idea that perhaps for a
week or two, or at all events, not more
than a month, the prices might remain
high, but this state of things would
continue as long as it has and bids fair
to continue, as you say, till July or
August, causes me at once surprise and
dismay. Can you tell me what the reason of this advance is?"
"I can give you my opinion," says the
butcher. "We have different ideas
about the cause of this rise, but as near
as I can get to the truth of the matter,
it seems that, to begin with, many raisers of cattle iu the West and Southwest,
owing to the high price of corn, on
which the animals are fed, sold out last
fall, and the supply was thus decreased.
Then, again, shippers of beef to foreign
ports were active buyers, and engaged
steamers for three months ahead to
ship beef, and the quantity necessary to
fill the foreign demand had to be provided. The result is that beef was really
getting scarce, and prices naturally advanced. Then the immense immigration into this country causes a great
demand. These thousands and thousands of people, arriving every day,
must be fed, and so, there being more
demand for the article, the price of
bees, already advancing by reason of
its scarcity, is given an additional up-
Avard tendency. Then, to conclude the
list of causes which have combined to
effect the present condition of things,
there were the terrible snow storms of
the past Avinter, causingthe destruction
of immense numbers of cattle, n the
disastrous floods in the West. Why,
the overflowing of the Mississippi river
did almost incalculable damage to cattle raising, the amount of stock which
was destroyed being enormous. You
will see, my dear sir, that the present
high prices of beef are not due to any
single cause, but to a combination of
many causes, each sufficient in itself to
affect the market, and, when united, to
have the effect of sending prices up until they are now higher at Chicago (the
great center of thp business) that at
any previous time, being the highest
ever knoAvn. Of course, I mean on a
gold basis, for prices during the war
are not taken into account."
Mr. Familiman has listened to the
butcher's explanation with much interest, and acknowledges, at tho conclusion,
that he has obtained some new ideas on
the subject of the causes whichregulate
and determine the prices of our food
supply.   He now asks the butcher:
"What is the prospect for a decline
in prices?"
"Well," is the reply, "I think, as I
said "before, the prices will continue to
advance until July or August. Grass-
l fed cattle Avill then be brought in, re-
' lieving-the market, and then prices will
drop. Of one thing I am very aure,
and that is, that the higher beef goes
the quicker it must drop, for the high]
prices cannot be sustained. 1 told youj
how they are affecting us in the matter}
of profits. We are anxiously lookingj
forward to the summer months, when}
we expect the drop Avill come." j
Mr. Familiman feels that he has obtained much food for reflection, but he j
thinks that perhaps he can get some}
more information in another line of the!
business, and so thanking the butcher j
for his information, he enters a stall j
devoted to the sale of hog products, and j
asks: j
"How has the advance in the prices I
of beef affected the prices of pork ?"      >
The prices of hog products, he is told,
always sympathize with beef to a cer- [
tain extent, and are, at the present time,
uniformly higher than they Avere a year
ago.   He is told, for instance, that ham, \
which at this time last year sold for 11 I
cents a pound, is now sold for 14 or 15; j
that ribs for roasting and frying have j
advanced from 10 cents to 12 ; that l
sausages are now 12 cents, while they ]
were 10 cents last May,   Bacon, he is i
told, now sells at 14 cents, an advance j
of two cents over last year's price; j
while smoked and corned shoulders each
have adyanced two cents in price, the  |
former from 9J to 11-J cents, and the ;
latter from 9 to 11 cents.
"Is there is no other reason for the
advance in the price of hog products  :
than that of sympathy with the upward ;
movement in prices of beef?" asks Mr.   j
Familiman. j
"Yes," replies the dealer. "There is i
a smaller supply of hogs, and then the j
high price of corn^aiSS^^jjdt116 D11S" \
ness. The cold of thepast wifi*er, the j
snows and floods, have combhuJd>d^_j
force prices up by destroying animals, f
and then a not unimportant considera- \
tion is the large immigration into t^e !
country, which creates a great demand, j
Sometimes speculators Avill force prices i
up, but there is no element of specula- j
tion in the present advance; it is due j
entirely to legitimate causes, the prices j
holding high proving this.J' *       j
A Mad Elephant,
A Calcutta letter to the London
World says: "Mola Buksh belonged
to the Maharaja of Benares and Avas
lent by him one January to a small
shooting party in South Mirzapur, consisting of three gentlemen,two of whom
had with them their wives and children. He was without tusks, of great
size, and of what amateurs call beautiful points; staunch Avith tiger, trained
and tractable, but credited from the
first known of him with an uncertain
temper. On the 15 th of the month he.
took part in an expedition into the
jungle, pelted a wounded tiger in a
ravine with clods till the brute charged
and fastened on his ear, then got his
foe between his legs and kicked him
from hind foot to fere foot and hack
again till he was done for. On the
29th lie carried some of the party, including two ladies, for an outing, nothing unusual being observable in his
manner excejxt a rather excited rivalry
with a horse wliieh was cantering by
his side. On arriving at the camp he
Avas fed as usual by female hands and
his affection humored by having a
biscuit put actually into his mouth.
He had, however, about hint rather a
managerie smell, for which a bathe ii*
the neighboring river was prescribed.
In perfect peace of mind all retired to
rest. But at midnight came the cry:
•Mola Buksh has killed his mahout!'
This was true, but it was generally
thought that the act was accidental.
The paroxysms had come on him about
2 a. m. He at once tore himself loose
and went in search of his second attendant. This man vpas «a purloiner of
grain, inattentive and cruel and greatly
detested by the animal. The mahout
and his deputy were sleeping side by
side under a tree shrouded in their coverlets, as the manner of the country
is. Mola knelt on his enemy and killed
him, and, perhaps, in attempting to rise,
slipped on to the mahout, who was a
drunkard, and not likely to be easily
awakened or to think of rolling aside.
At any rate, some hours afterwards,
when the animal returned and saw the
bodies, he only looked down at that of
the mahout, but seized the other and
tossed it hither and thither All was
alarm, naturally, in the camp. Cots
Avere slung up in the trees—one fortunately a banian—and the ladies and
children put in comparative safety.
Morning Avas anxiously looked for.
When it .came, however, the coast was
clear. Mola Buksh was passing his
time in wrecking a village at some little distance, unroofing the houses, and
plundering the sweetmeats and grain.
The other elephants had been driven
into the jungle; the men were armed
and vigilant; the servants on the
watch. As no alarm Avas given, a
forced march Avas determined on, and
off the whole party set for an encampment ten miles on. This was reached* **'
in safety, but the elephant was soon in
pursuit, upset the camels, loads and all
on the road, flung to right and left the
burdens deserted by the flying coolies,
caught up two unhappy lingerers and
killed them both, and pounded away
over the hill stones A\'ith madness in
Ms head and the unnatural activity of
overheated excitement in his limbs. On
the 26th the fit subsided, and Mola
Buksh walked into his stables at Ra-
muggar, the fort of his master, near
Benares, glad to have his wounds attended to. He had been a week on the
loose—had killed twenty persons and
Avounded others, and had destroyed a
great deal of property.
Qtoebn Vigtoeia recently spent some
time at Men tone/and when she left
she gave $3,000 to xthe poor of the place,
a set of diamond studs to the Mayor, a
portrait of herself and the Princess
Beatrice to the English Consul, a gold
Avatch-chain to the \station-maSter, a
gold pencil-case and pin to the under
station-master, and a ring to the Gom-
missaire of police. This rather contradicts the general opinion of her
Majesty's penuriousness.
Hamilton Fish's residence, at Sec-
ond-ave. and Seventeenth-st., stands
upon ground which Avas formerly a
part of the farm of Peter Stuyvesant.
Mr. Fish's mother was a Stuy vesant,
and theland has been in the possession
of the family for over 200 years.
There is said to be no deed of it in ex-^
istence. *
The ISTew York East Conference at
ijs recent session, recommended Methodist ministers hot to marry a person
whose divorced wife or husband still
iurvives,
jjffljprwtiuijp'JjiiiiUW
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