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The Exeter Advocate, 1895-3-21, Page 5COMM' THRO' THE RYE. BY MUER B. MATIII.IRS. f CONTINUED, l Under the trees it is very cool, very quiet. The sunbeams flicker faintly through. the screen of green leaves and unripe fruit overhead ; the gnats whirl giddily round and round, spending their one summer's day in ceaseless revolu- tions ; the birds are singing their blithe •clear song, and though they sing all at •onoe, and each in a different key, there is • ' not one note of discord in the whole eon- •cert. The sky is one stretch of deep, in- tense blue. flecked with clouds that show white as snow ag,iust its vivid color ; a rustling, creeping little breeze, warm with the breath of new -mown hay and dog -roses, is stealing about us, frolicking softly with our hair and lips ; and as I he flat on the grass that makes so yield - 0 ing and luxurious a couch for our young bodies, I am lulled into an exquisite dreamy sense' ion of delight at the mere fact of existing on tbis beautiful, rich - hued, glorious Jane day. The parrot ceases to make naughty remarks, he puts his head on one side, and appears to be thinking; perhaps he is remembering the days of his youth, perhaps he too en- joys the perfect day and hour, who can tell ? The rabbits wander about, the raven stands motionless on the one slen- der leg that must ache so often ; :Tack is silent, but for some prosaic reason, I am -certain, not because his soul is filled with pleasure. "Nell," he says, presently,. while I am 'wondering why the clouds fall into gro- tesque likenesses of earthly things, not .heavenly --human faces, castles, pities, Bills—"I'm going to the top of Inky field, will you come ?" Never yet did I disobey Jack's behest, so I sit up, but very unwillingly. "The ;governor will see us," I say suggestively; "Inky field is right before the dining - room windows, you know." But Jack takes no heed to my caution, •so we return to the garden by the way •that we came, and inveigle all our ani- mals into their abodes, save our crippled 'rabbit, who escapes to a verbena bpd, and there disports himself. .A. rabbit is an aggravating beast to catch; he has a way •of remaining perfectly still till one's hand almost touches him, and then starting -suddenly off in a jiggetty-jog fashion highly impertinent, while the . pursuer measures his length upon the sward, ' angry and empty-handed. At last, how- -ever he is caught, and' Jack octanes him -away, while I sit down on an adjacent seat and fan myself with the top of my double skirt, which I use as duster, fan, -on for ornament indiscriminately. Mother and Mrs. Skipworth have just gone in, but every one else is walking about in a leisurely way; Alice and Milly under the south•wall, Dolly and Alan sitting close together in the sun like two plump little partridges, dogs straying about, and fry dimply visible in the distance, every- thing, in short, looks peaceable and com- fortable, .when from the veranda issue two black figures—can it be'? Yes, it is Skippy and the governor! Ie the wine corked, or have their stories run dry ? I am too close to them to escape ; not so, however, the rest, who vanish round 'corners, behind trees, over palings; any- where, and the garden, that a moment ago was full, is now empty. Papa's ap- proach may usually be known by the flight of everybo iy else in the opposite -direction ; and I think he has a vague suspicion of the fact, for he looks about him sharply as he approaches. Jack, lucky fellow, has hidden himself in the rabbit hutch, and from a well-known loophole see his eye fixed upon me with • a mixture of pity and self -gratulation. I have pulled by hat straight, set my feet in the first position, and am doing my best to look modest, sabatical and cool. The last is the most difficult of all, and papa stops short and surveys me with the admiration that any new or particularly starting phase of my ugliness always -evokes•frgm him. "What's a -muck?" he says contemptu- ously ; "can't you keep your mouth shut?" I elose it with a snap and a rebellious .glance that he is about to call me to ac- oount for, when an. unwary fry, ventur- ing into the open, attraets • his attention, and away he goes like a shot; horribly active as he is, as any one can aver to whom he has given chase. I heave a deep sigh of relief, and turn away to make good my escape, when Mr. Skip - worth lays a fat and detaining.hand on my arm, and in an unctuous voice bids me sit down. He has got me into the seat, and wedged me in with his overflow- ing body before T get my breath back and recognize the fact that I am in for a ser- mon, and that he will presently come back and finish me off. I cast a despair- ing glance at Jack, who is close prisoner as well as I, but oh ! the rabbits won't stand. upon their hind legs and preach him a sermon. "My dear," says Mr. Skipworth, clos- ing his eyes slihtly, whether overcome 'by the sun or Madeira itwould be hard to say (how I hate being "my deared") did ,yon hear the sermon to -day?" "Yes, sir." "And what did I say ?" "Something or other about Methuse- lah." "No. I spoke of grace, the effects of :grace. Without grace," he continues, folding, his fat hands, and simmering gently m the hot sunshine like a seal, "we are lost, vile, miserable creatures, lower than the beasts of the field." "You and I may be," I said stoutly, "but mother isn't; she is much more like an angel," ''You. are a wicked girl," he says, turn- ing slowly and surveying me ; "you are also ignorant. Do you know that all mankind is born. in sin, and that even a new born babe is tainted with evil ? It would appear that the infant is aware of that fact, for what is the first thing it does on coming into the world ?" "It howls," I say, briefly. "It weeps," said Mr. Skipwortk, re- bukingly ; "and why does it weep ?" "Because it's hungry," I say, prompt- ly. • " romptly., It does nothing of the sort," he says, irately ; "it weeps beeause it knows it is born in sin." "Oh, poor little soul," I say, laughing immoderately. but—but your Pardon, Mr. Skipworth, but—but its such a ri- •diculeus idea, as if it knew anything." "Your levity is exceedingly unbecom- ing, miss '7says . my pastor, in a voice that reminds me of vinegar tasting through oil, g "I beg your pardon, I do, really," I say :again, stifling my mirth as well as I can, "but when you Were a baby --I suppose you were a baby once, Mr. Skipworth ?" "I suppose so," he says, stiffly. "Did you ever cry ?YY "I have always been told," he says. pompously, 'that I was an unusually reasonable Infant, and that my voice was seldom heard." `! Then you could not have been born. in sin," I say, triumphantly, "for you said just now babies cried because they wero sinful, and, of course, if they don't cry they can't be sinful; don't you see, sir ?" But Mr. Skipworth does not see ; my impudence has at last had the desired ef- fect of making him turn his back upon me, and as he stiffly rises I make my escape, barely in time though, for I am scarcely hidden when the governor ap- pears rout d the corner, looking red and heated, and as though the fry had led him a chase for which there will be a heavy reckoning to pay by and by. CHAPTER, 115, , The morn in russet mantle dad, Walks o'er the dew of yon high eastern hill." It is 5 o'clock in the morning. Through my open window come the pure notes of the lark's song, the cloth -of -gold roses nod their creamy heads in at me, heavy with dew drops, and whisper, "Come out! came out P' Yes, but surely they do not mean to say, "Come out and see a pig killed." My mind has somehow or other made itself up, and, though I every mo- ment expect to hear Jack's footfall below, I am attired in a night-gown, no more. Who that has tasted the first spotless freshness of the early morning could go back to dull, senseless sleep in that white bed yonder? When Jack is gone, I will dress and go out into the lanes and fields, and get a bunch of fresh wild flowers. I will— There is Jack. 1 mount the win- dow and present my white -robed form to his astonished and disgusted gaze. So you're not coming ? ' he asks, in an indignant whisper, heedful of Amberly, whose room is below mine, but reassured by the rythmic regularity of her snores. "So you're a—" "Don't be angry," I say imploringly. "I'm not a coward, and I'll do anything else you like, but I can't do that." "Oh ! I dare say," he says scornfully, "I dare say ! Well, I'm going, but be- fore I go I may as well tell you that I'm disappointed in you. [ thought, mind you, Nell, I thought you were plucky enough to be a boy ; but I'm mistaken, you're only a girl." • "I•know I am," I say, almost in tears, "that's just why I can't go and see it; boys feel differently about those things." "I should hope so," says Jack, signifi- cantly, 'I should hope so," and turns on his heel and goes his way`,'pigstyward, leaving me to the miserable conviction that he is perfectly right, and I am a very small and cowardly person indeed. By and by I pluck up sufficient spirit to put on the despised feminine garments that I hate so thoroughly. How cum- bersome and useless and ridiculous they are ! how my gowns, petticoats, crino- lines, ribbons, ties, cloaks, hats, bonnets, gloves, tapes, hooks, eyes, buttons, and the hundred and one etceteras that make up a girl's costume, chafe and irritate me! What would I not give to be able to leave them all in a heap,• and step into Jack's cool, comfortable, easy gray gar- ments ! When I am dressed I go through Alice and Miller's room on tiptoe. A. sunbeam is lying on Alice's nut brown head; a blackbird is singing on the win- dow -sill,, but she sleeps soundly on, Out in the garden the grass is all silvered over with dew, and the flowers are open- ing their beautiful eyes one by one ;• all night have they stood pale and still, but now, with the first quivering beams of the sun, they have awakened, and stirred and trembled, turning eagerly toward their king, who is rising in such pomp of amber glory out of the great eastern plains of translucent sea -green sky. As yet there is that faint, chilly freshness in the morning air that is . like some strange, intangible, wind-blown perfume as though the breath of the moonlit night had tarried behind and were merg- ing itself into the dawning warmth of the morning. There are a nameless stir and throb of expectancy in the air, as though all na- ture were awaiting the advent of her master; field and meadow, flower and garden, stretching out toward his golden splendor and swift vivifying beams. When I have fed the animals—who are as wide-awake as though they had the work of the world to perform, instead of nothing to fill the long hours but sleep- ing and eating, while, strange contra- diction ! the human beings who have their lives to carve out, their names to make, and their souls to save, sleep soundly and long, awakened, not by the sun or the birds, or because they have had rest enough, but because (oh, prosaic reason) they are called—I take my way across the dew -spangled meadows, where the cows are being milked, and John the milkman and Molly the dairymaid are sitting on contiguous stools, and flirting at the top of their voices, and loudly con- fiding to each other those gentle secrets that are usually supposed to be of a some- what private character. There is nobody to listen though, save the brook, the birds, and me-; and as I am behind them they are not put out of countenance by discovering that I have been an involun- tary listener to their love -talk. After all, I dare say, flirtation et five o'clock in the morning is as agreeable and amus- ing as at any other time, and a great deal more sweet and wholesome than in the evening. I do not get much of a nosegay for June, bountiful month as she is, gives not half the, wild flowers that follow spring's footsteps and gem her mantle so preciously ; I only find some dog -roses, travelers' joy, a few ragged -robins, a handful of moon daisies, some meadow - sweet, and honeysuckle. Turning into the orchard, I run against Jack coming from the opposite direction; he withdraws himself with dignity, but does not look very angry, so I proceed to try and make my peace after a sneaking feminine fashion. "Was it very nice ?" I ask, in a propit- iatory tone. • "First-rate, wouldn't have missed it for anything." "Did it squeak much?" "Awfully; didn't you hear him ? There will be some rime acon though, and I shall take a ham to school." "Bacon! ham ! Three hours ago it wag pig a breathing, enjoying, reasonable , now—" "It is Pimpernel Pair to -morrow," I sayjsuggestively, hoping by a change of subect to divert Jack's thoughts from my delinquencies, upon which I am cer- tain they are now running. ; it is no good, the governor I know , go." won't let us "1k/ether is going to ask him ; lot us pray that the answer may be favorable:" Eight o'clock strikes as we turn in at the back door, and at the sound. we both start as if we had been shot. To drag off our hats, and make' a rush for the break- fast parlor; is the work of :a moment and. by grab good luck' the governor t his morning enters the room at ten seconds piastthe hour, instead of 'on the stroke, as is his wont, Now, there are laws and laws in our house, to break which is a very serious matter, but to be late for prayers is e. crime, 'l -o fall sick, tear our clothes, toll 1 es, steal fruit, and roll in the flower - beds, is bad, and will be punished accord- ingly, but to be late for prays rs,!—for better were it for that luckless wight that he or she had never been burn. I wonder if, when I am gaits old, T shall ever be able to f Irgeh that awful, sickening mo- ment, when, having torn do A n the stairs at headlong speed, I found the door shut, and heard papa's voice booming away with angry fervor inside ? Our family,devotions are conducted in a curious fashion, but one that is emi- nently satisfactory to our youthful and irreligious minds. The governor goes through chapter, prayer, and benediction as hard as l e can pelt, without a mo- ment's pause, from beginning to end, and when the chapter is ended, and we have rapidly reversed ourselves, we are ` scarcely settles on our' knees when the book, closing with a smaek on amen ! shoots us all up into the perpendicular 'again. Every now and then the morning scamper is agreeably diversified by .the unseemly couduct of the canaries, who, when papa begins to read, begin to sing; the louder he reads the more shrilly they shriek, until he pauses to say, in a voice of thunder, "Take those wretched birds down !" then. settles to his stride again with a furious countenance, while the culprits, from an abased position on the 'floor, twitter de- risively. Prayers being over, breakfast is brought and partaken of much as. the Jews partook of the Passover (save that we have seats), in hot haste and the short- est possible time. I think papa's digestion has been mur- dered long ago, and ours are on the high road to destruction ; but, fast 'as we eat our meals, we heartily wish we could do it faster and getaway. This morning we are cudgeling our brains as usual to find a remark that shall be neither too fresh • nor too stale, nor too familiar, nor too dangerous for ventila- tion, and every natural subject that sug- gests itself to our minds we reject in turn. The governor would not understand it, or he would wonder at our impudence, or— something.We are all nervously anxious to talk ; it is from no obstinacy or contu- maciousness that we' 'sit tongue. tied, but somehow the stream that flows so over bountiful among &reel -Yes is in his pres- eece reduced to a few'scanty drops. Am- berley is pouring out the coffee, limp, and meek, and drab, and fair, with -putty -col- ored curls concerning which we have never ceased to admire the self-restraint that has restrained the governor from pulling them in his frequent rages. "Do you think it is going to rain, papa ?" asks Alice,: making her small vot- ive offering in a voice that refuses to come boldly forth, but seems to be stran- gled half -way. The sky is one clear vault of blue, and it has not rained for a week. "I don't know," says the governor, crossly. Apparently he has seen the pumping -up process, and is not grateful for the effort. Alice looks over at Milly with a glance that plainly says, "Your tarn now ;" for it is a point of honor with us that when one makes a remark each shall fol- Iow intarn, and thus divide the labor of conversation. - "Dorley killed a lot more snails last night," says Milly, looking at papa ; but the snails go the way of the weather, and no notice whatever is vouchsafed to this delicate morceau. It is Jack's turn now, but he is stolidly eating his breakfast, with a mean and reprehensible indifference to his duty ; therefore it devolves upon me. "The pig was killed this morning," I say, starting with a tolerably loud voice, and dying gradually into a very little one. 1'It made such a nose." But, alas! the pig goes the way of the snails andthe weather. There is another anxious silence, bro- ken only by Amberley's meek voice offer- ing the master of the house more coffee, but upon being told it is filthy stuff she collapses, and so do we, and sit counting the moments to our departure. Jack sneezes violently, and we look at him gratefully ; it makes an agreeable little diversion, but he must not do it twice, or he will be ordered out of the room. Papa has finished his bacon and coffee. and we are just thinking we may venture to rise and make our escape, when his angry voice makes us bound in our seats. "Can't you talk, some of you?" he asks, eyeing us wrathfully. "There you sit, gobble, gobble, gobble, with never a word among the whole lot, and behind my back you can bawl the house down; a set of wretched dummies !" And so he dismisses us with a few more expressions of admiration and good -will. "I am afraid Pimpernel Fair looks rather bad," said Alice, when we reach the school -room. "After all, itis not much of it !" says No,Millit is not, ar'd in our heart of hearts we despise it, with its one eireus, its penny peepshow, and its fat woman ; but 1t is better than nothing, and,when one has looked upon nothing but the face of one's own family for twelve months any- thing is agreeable to the eye, and, now that it seems to be receding in the dis- tance Pimpernel fair looks very attract- ive indeed. Amberley comes in—Amberley to whom it is given to labor heavily at the tillage of our brains, and whom we look upon as a sedate and amiable old cow, who never kicks up her heels or does anything un- expected, but gives down knowledge in any quantity or quality whenever we cheese to apply for it. She is a queer creature, Amberley. We used to play her tricks and try to drive her out as we did all our other governesses, but she op- posed a passive re-istance to all our en- deavors, that in the end cong;uered us. We might as well have knocked our heads by the hour against a stone wall. 'For oh ! she is so meek ! Give us a passion- ate person, an impulsive person, a person who loudly declares she will have her own way, but a meek, obstinate woman, no one can stand against her Lessons begin, and after our different fashions we attack the Tree d Know- ledge. Alice goes at it gayly and a good heart ; hull; sweeps at its prickly rind ; I skirmish round it ; and Dolly and Alan sit down before it with moderate appetite. Happy Jack ! who goes by with his dog unk m o who possess • and unlucky ' at his heels , yp the taste and spirit of a boy and the use- less body and petticoats of a girl !' ,.0IIAPTI8R lv. We are wontingin the schoolroom for by the skin of our teeth we are saved`, for , mother, who has one With a sereno front, but, we believe, trembling knees, to ask her lord and master's 1raeious consent to our setting out for Pimpernel fair, She had been absent a quarter of an hour, which we are all inclined to think a hope- ful sign, as his "Nees" are usually short and sharp, and for him to e»ndescend to argue a matter promises well: Here she comps ! 'We tumble one over the other to the door ant fling it wide. No need to ask her, she has ". es !" written all over hor in big capitals. As she sits down we swarm around her, until she looks like something good encompassed by a hive of buzzieg, noisy bees, "You are coming with us, eh, mother?" I ask eagerly. "No, dear, I think not ; there is:baby, , youknow," "We are not going to have all the fry at our heels, I hope ?", asks. Jack, with some anxiety. "The two nurses are going with four of them, and Miss Amberly will take you elder ones." "Hurrah !" et les Jack ; "if there's any- thit g I hate it's going out in dozens. And what time are we to be back ?" "Six o'clock. And don't make your- selves ill with gingerbreads, dears." "111!" wo all echo in chorus; "who. couldget ill on nothing ?" "We have not a rap mother," I put in on my own account. "There was a shill- ing somewhere among us last week, but it was sb valuable, and we took so much care of it, that somehow it got lost. One of us hid it away, and forgot where we put it." "I will give you a shilling each," she says mother, "and you must make it She takes out her purse that is se muoh too slender for the size of her family ; and though wo all scorn the scanty shilling that is to fall to our share, we do not say so. Shall we give one additional pang to that tender gentle heart ! The gover- nor must have his hunting, his shooting, his horses. We must -be kept so long without a sight of the queen's counte- nance , as almost to forget what she is like ; and I am certain when we are grown up we shall bespendthrifts. When mother has given us our shillings and kissed us all around, she goes away,and we also depart to make our toilets, and beautify ourselves according:, to our scanty means and several lights. Alice puts on a white hat with a long white feather, sole tale of an ostrich that . the family possesses, and considered by us Adairs to be the ne plus' ultra of beauty and fashion. Whatever our othershort- eomines may be in the matter of dress, when that feather is in our midst,•.and Alice's blooming face is under that feath- er, we feel respectable, and defy anybody to beat us. She also wears a white cloak and a black silk dress, and, when it is all put on, where will you in the whole of England find a fairer, sweeter sixteen - year -old than Alice ? Milly has put on her out -door gear as uncompromisely as usual. Tack appears with a button -hole the size of a small cabbage, that gives him an uncommonly gay and festive air; and I, having tilted my Leghorn hat to the back of my head, for the better obser- vation of men and matters, we descend, and find Amberley awaiting us in a green bonnet, and with a large smut on her nose. We admire the former, but are much to delicate to point out the latter to her, so it goes to the fair with the rest. Pimpernel is only a mile away, but a noonday mile in June is a long one, and 'be rthe'time we reach High street wo are very hot indeed, and very thirsty. It is the second day of the fair, and the fat farmers and their fatter beasts, have waddled off the scene, while their smart wives and daughters have appeared upon it, and are walking about in raiment compared with which Joseph'seoat was a mere joke, exchanging jests, and cracking jokes with, their friends, and looking,. thanks to the exceeding heat, very sticky and exceedingly moist. Behind and about prance their maid -servants and hinds ; every Jill who has a Jack, hangs fondly to his arm, and, while her large crinoline hangs affectionately against his legs, she casts a scornful and triumphant glance at . the unappropriated Jill who sidles by, deeply conscious of her forlorn and degraded state. Hard by Punch is setting a bright ex- ample to the British householder as to the management of his wife and family, and we pause under the shadow of Lawyer Trask's door to see the instructive little drama played out, and the ends of justice defeated. ('rO BE CONTINUED.) To Ent Flesh on Cows. Prof. Sheldon, in an address to dairy- men, said that "it is no doubt true that a deep -milking cow will, as a rule, not carry much superfluous flesh during the lacteal period,, and, indeed, there is no special demand that she should do so. All the same, however, I have had cows, capital milkers, that always were in good condi- tion as to flesh r -and, indeed I have had others that almost milked themselves down into bags of bones. There are all sorts of cows—good, bad and indifferent ; and in this there is hope, for the power of selection is included within the limits of the species. I am not aware that we badly want to breed cows that will al- ways be fat—fit, as it were, for the butch- er—during the lacteal period. This is not what we are aiming at in reference to practical dairy cows, though it is don;: commonly enough even- now, and still more commonly in years gone by, in re- spect to blue-blooded Shorthorns ; great- ly to their disparagement was this done, for it involved in many eases the delib- orate and intentional abandonment of all desire to cultivate a deep -milking capac- ity in these cattle, and so they became discounted in the eyes of practical dairy farmers, No ; what we are aiming at is to develop the capacity to give quantity and quality of milk, and to lay on flesh quickly with good food when not in milk. It is the aptitude to milk well when in milk, and to fatten well when barren, that we ought to cultivate and develop in all, or almost all, our breeds of dairy sows, and not necessary to do these well, both of them, at the same time. This line of breeding involves, however, as a prominent feature, the ability of cows not only to get into good condition whilst- dry for calving, but also to keep up their condition fairly well during the milking season. Our cattle, in order to yield plenary profit to practical dairy farmers should bo master of two trades, so to speak ; should, in fact, have two strings to their bow—viz , milking and beef -reek- ing. We want them to yield a maximum quantity of rich milk for three or four seasons—it is seldomlworth while to milk a cow beyond her 'sixth year—and then to round themselves off int, good car- casses of beef in as short a time as may suit their own and our convenience," Haste, trips its ;own heels, and fetters and stops itself. 11/ i for Infants and Children. pigiorgaiwaiwissmsarsr Dothat Pare C�ed'H E RS, i ®IJ Know Boric, Bateman's, props, Glodfrey's Cordial, 'many so-called Soothing Syrups, and most remedies for children are composed of opiunt or morphine 1' Do You Know that opium and morphine are stupefying narcotic poisons Do You Know that in most .,ountries druggists are not permitted to sell narcotics without labeling thein poisons P Do You Know that you should not permit any medicine to be given your child unless you or your physician know of what it is composed 1 Do You Knew -that Castoria is a purely vegetable preparation, and that a list of Its ingredients is published with every bottle ? Do You Know that Castoria is the prescription of the famous Dr. Samuel Pitcher. That it has been in use for nearly thirty years, and that more Castoria is now sold than of all other remedies for children combined f Do Yon Kuow that the Patent Office Department of the 'United States, and of other countries, have issued exclusive right to Dr. Pitcher and his assigns to use the word " Castoria" and its formula, and that to imitate them is a state prison offense 1 Do You Know that one of the reasons for granting this govermnent proteccionwas because Castoria had been proven to be absolutely harmless? Do You Know that 35 average doses of Castoria are furnished for 35 Cants, or one cent a dose ? ' Do Yon Know that when possessed of this perfect preparation, your children may be kept well, and that you may have unbroken rest P Well, these things are worth knowing. They are facts. , The fan -simile signature of is on every wrapper. Children Cry for Pitcher's Castoria. Usefulness of Birds. A eorrespindent of the Tribune re marks that some one at abort intervals breaks out in print anent the woful de- crease in the number of "our friends the birds." To be const -tent; these laments ought to set forth how lively and delight. fel bears and deer and the like were, for these belongedrto the wilderness no more certainly than many or our native birds. "Let each farmer become a committee of one to protect," etc.; but the only real protection consists in clearing out your- selves and letting the land revert to the forest. When you go to cut wood you select old, ripe trees with dead tops, or dead altogether, rather than young grow- ing timber, and the result is large tracts of woodland with hardly a decent resting place for a woodpecker. On clearing up a lot of old stump you think you have made an improvement, but the bluebirds don't think so. They go elsewhere to build, and so it goes, one species losing its food, another its resting place. "Owls are the farmer's friends ; they devour mice." No doubt, butmiee are almost extinct com- pared with the census of years ago,:so the owl's occupation is gone. Graybeards with long memories are the ones to worry. I can remember when the wild pigeons covered the land at times, and I regret their absence now ; but my children, who never saw one, do not miss them in the least. We cannot expect birds nicely adapted to the forest to flourish amid lawns and cabbage gardens; the ink - slinger is wasting time and writing fluid in his demands that they shall do so. Birds amount to nothing as insect - fighters, they will corner them the same year the yellow birds run out thistles or the seed -eating finches use up the grass family; their utmost efforts in all these cases resulting in a judicious thinning, which makes the rest do better. It is not the scarcity of birds that makes insects plenty ; it is the illimitable feast spread for them by farmers and fruit -growers. Cats,' skunks, ploughed -up nests, etc., do not seem to diminish ground birds and song sparrows, and all our devices of traps, poisons, guns, etc., have failed to stay for a moment the conquering march of the English sparrow. The sole differ- ence is that the latter find favoring con- ditions, while our wildwood species do not. No doubt most people who write as above are really thinking more of the pleasure of seeing and hearing the birds than of any profit arising from their in- sect eating. I should be glad to see them back again, but I never shall. Things pertaining to the wilderness cannot be served on the same plate with civilize• tion, unless they can be molified in some this distinguished regiment has ever since been known, arose from the dark color of their uniform tartan. How the regiment would have behaved during the rebellion of 1745 it is difficult to conjecture, but, unfortunately, it was abroad at t�:!' 'tame, Most of the other Highland r _teents were raised in 1798 and the following year. Two well-known Irish regiments were also raisedat this time—the Eighty- seventh (Royal Irish Fusiliers, or "Faugh a Ballagh") and the Eighty-eighth (Con- naught Rangers). The Rangers. from their plundering propensities in the Peniusula, were styled by Gen. Piston the greatest blackguards in the army." He Worshipped Grindstone. Once Mr. Gladstone had been cutting down a tree in the presence of a large concourse of people, including a number of "cheap -trippers." When the tree had fallen, and the prime minister and some of his family who were with him were moving away, there was a rush for the chips. One of the trippers secured a big piece and exclaimed: "Hey, lads, when I dee, this shall go in my coffin !" Then cried his wife, a shrewd, motherly old woman, with a merry twinkle in her eye: "Sam, my lad, if thou'd worship God as thou worships Gladstone, thou'd stand a better chance of going where thy chip woudna burn !" All Were On. Mrs. Newcomer -Is there a green gro- cer in the neighborhood ? Mr. Newcomer—I guess not. I have tried them all, and they won't sell any goods on credit. AU Mean the Same. ''Is your rector high church ?" "Oh, yes." "I suppose he calls sin, then, a moral obliquity?" "1xigher than that. He calls it a psy- chological eccentricity." when Baby was sick, we gave her Castoria. When she was a Child, she cried for Castoria, When she became Mies, she clung to COritria, When she bad Children, she gave them Castoria. Newspapers the Bost Medium. A prominent local manufacturer of fine grades of linen collars tolls us that he has come to the oonclusion after the ex- penditure of many thousands of dollars, that newspaper advertising pays better way than any other form of advertising, He. REV. L. W. SHOWERS prefers it even to that of highgrade mag- azinesh flaring announcements on, buildings, fences or billboards. Gives His Experience With Organic Heart Disease—The Dread Malady on the Increase. For many years my greatest enemy has been organic heart disease. From an un- easiness about the heart, with palpitation more or less severe, it had developed into abnormal action, thumping, fluttering and choking sensations. Dull pain with a peculiar warm feeling were ever present near the heart. I have tried, ninny phy- sicians and taken numberless remedies with very little benefit. Seeing Dr. Ag- new's Cure for the Heart advertised in the Kittanning, Pa.,. papers, I purchased a bottle and began its use, receiving ale moat instant relief. I have now taken several bottles of the remedy and can speak most highly in its favor. The choking, abnormal beating, 'thumping and palpitation have almost entirely dis- appeared. The remedy is certainly a wonder -worker, for my case was chronic. Rey. L. W. Showers. Elderton, Pa. Well-Raown Regiments. The origin of the famous Forty-second or Black Watch is familiar to many, After the rebellion in 1715 the Govern- ment, with a view of bringing the High - lenders more into touch with Y he rest of the people, caused six companies of.thorn to be raised, The command attach cam - parry was given to the chief of a clan. Their duties at first were not strictly military, but more those of an armed police, disarming the Highlanders and. preventing depredations in the lowlands, They executed these duties so much to the satisfaction of the Government that in .L78O the companies were formed into one regiment and enrolled in the line, The name "131ack 1Vatcli," by whish and is entirely wit out faith in Unless we find God to -day somebody else may loose Him to -morrow. MOST SUCCESSFUL REMEDY FOR MAN OR BEAST. Certain in 119 effects and never Meters. Re! proofs below: KENDALL'S SPAWN CURE I BoXr2 Cnrman. Henderson do., 10, Fob.24, '14. Dr. 11. J, Ifrxnnnr Co. Dear Slav 1 lee. 1 lend used ono of that liorw, Book,, and oblige. I havo,tead a {Treat that of your rancho's Spavin 0,110 with olid ancon • It le a ri 0Y• ul me Iici, , 5 good ao ce f i tooneb tURmatotin, . an (teach lu on li and five timl,9 anrOd hat. 1 mop a Bottle on hand dll tlia'time. Youretruly, CBAs, I'owsrs, KENIDALL'S SPAY N cu�E. Dr.1). ,T. linamkr,r. Co, f:'twros, bio., Apr.1,'92. Dear Sirs—I have used several battles of your „ xandall a Spavin Cato with brach menses. 1 t,nnlc it the best Liniment I Otter used, 11015 re- liso'cci0n8 L,prb, ono Blood A ,nvin and kfticd. ited• Bone Species. T3dve r000nunendei(( it to Several of 'my friendswho ere taunt pleased Wath sea Jeep it, i2espees. ntltuAv', p. o. Bortit, For Sale by all nruggisis, or address uM yin•. ,7;:..1: iSCEN'3ii,mr,.D 0011f,15A 1Txr EtioseURGH FALLS VT. , li