The following text may have been generated by Optical Character Recognition, with varying degrees of accuracy. Reader beware!

The Newnpiiper. A ne«i|)ApAr wont thruuf^h Uireo etagos, it •eenieU to luoiâ€" (U it waa iinport&ut for tUu day, (flHti« Di'it day it was lltitift afltdv, Cii tho titiiu CAditf whuu to pouterity tlin paper waH worth Uh woinhi iti tioid.â€"JJr. Ournutt on tha Itriti^h Museum Library. U<kk1 ttruthroa of tlm daily (]aill, Wtiat wordii cf gr«cti duih CtarnotlBay '.' Althuutjii. for ail tho ink wr Hi'ill. " A Pr-iiny buya " tmr print today. And tfjouKli to-uiorrow dikti tlio hay Whurto fut«j in holy writ m told) Id Kunan'K blu 'tU cast away â€" Wu HhaH bo worth uiii wmght in gold. Yo hoadlouiiecribet), who toll to Oil Allotted *â-  Bpaoi " withtmt delay ; Yo hack-*, atU'iitiv** tu yi)ur drill, A pi'iiny buys your print to-day. Know all inon now, oyes 1 oyos t When future coiituricH unfold This viTv pcunya lininp lay- It will bo worth its weight in Koltl OjK>iid<*rouH pagC'H. which dintill Tht) Vf n.»m of thu long dull fray Hotwlxt thtt Pestlu and tbu Pill â€" Thn»o puiinios buy your print to-day. Whun tuturu timt:^ tbu Tiinrs Hhall wt:i^h. At what huKe price will you l^o Bold Wlion ito tho brokoii baiikrtdiaiuay) You will bo worth your woifiht in jiold '.* I.KNVUI. <ioo<i roiuier, mako thy roadint^ pay ; A j>uuny buys our priut to-day ; lint when tho world is waxiu^: uld Wu lUiall bo worth our weight in gold. -I'all Mail Gazette. SHIRLEY ROSS : A Story of Woman's Faithfulness. " la it for mo?" ho asked slowly, for hia eyelids Becined wi'li^litid with lead, and the words wcrii diQiculi to utter. " Yta ; but, Guy, old fellow, dear oldfcl- low, how can I tell you 7" Uawald said in a tonu of iiitiuao diutrees. "Tell me what V Shirley?" The wurda caniu brokenly, hoarsely ; he had started up from his chair, but bo could hardly ataiui in his weakncaa sod yiddi- nesH. " This note is from her," Oswald said unsteadily, "Guy, try to bear it, old fol- low ; it waa perhaps for th(^ best." " The note. Give it me." Uu opened it with unsteady trembling bands, and looked at it withea|jc'r,BiKhtleBH eyee. " Head it to me," ho said to Oswald, in k hoarse strained voic-e ; and Oswald's own eyes were dim as ho read tho few words Shirley had traced before she left the friends whom she had loved and trusted and went out into the world alono. " I am (;oinf{ away, (juy, because I love yoa, and because it is best (or us both. Bome day perhaps Heaven will be merciful and let us meet agam ; but, if you can, for- get me, and forf^ivu all the misery I have rouHhl into your life. Do not seek me, dear : it will be useless. 1 could not brin^; â- hame into >our life. If this pains you, my darliu*,', remember that 1 did it in love. Ileaven forever bless you, Guy 1" A niotnent's dead silence followed the perusal of the letter ; then Guy put oat bis Darning, trembling; hufid. " 1 do not understand," he said, in a â- trained, broken voice. " Is she ^ono?" " Yes ; she went in tho ui^ht -alone. Old fellow, iluar old fellow, what are you going to do? ' " I â€" am noing "- Guy was stajjijerin^j toward the iluor as ho Hpiiko -thore was a pause botwi< II each slow word â€" " gointt â€" to â€" my darliri;;. Oswald lio you â€" tlunkshu hasâ€" Kone away alone? 1 saw -" liis voice died away, a threat darkness fell opon bis sif;ltl ; ho slrelched out hia hands with n l)lliiil groping inoveini'nt terrible to â- ee, and »t(.>u<l swayiu){ for a moment to and Ire ; then, before Oswald could interiwao, ho fell forwaid senseless at his feet. CIl.M'TKU -XXXVIIl. A dinf;y little room on the first floor of a dingy hotiao in a din)4y part of Londonâ€" a house standiii|{ 111 a faded street with two irregular rows of tall dark looking houses, which even the summer siiiisbine, a sickly sunshine here, could not cheer or brighten. Judging from the appearance and size of tho iiouHcri, a passer-by would have con- •idere<l that they had been at one time ten- anted by piTaons in a different and better position III life than that of their present occupants, but that, in their failing fortunes, tboy had been let out in oRices and floors to different lodgers, for on most of the doors wore several plates and bell-handles, with names of the various tenants. It was not a disreputable street by any means ; on the contrary, it was respectable and steady, and in the immediate neighbor- hood of some superior wjuares and tor- raoB , but it was also in tho vicinity of â- ome far inferior ones ; and it was plain that the inhabitants of these latter were more fre<|ueiitly in tho dingy debatable ground than the inhabitants of tho former, for tho people to be met there woro mostly shabby, busy peoplo. It is never wise to judge by appearances, and [Mirhapa in London esiiecially ', dingi- Besa and dirty windows and grimy cariiet- less stairs are somotinios better vouchers for res[iectability than bran-new olhces and plate glass and mirrors. At any rate, the governesH agency whoso ollicu was in a dingy room of the dingy house at tho rxir- ner of the street was a ras[>ectablo and trustworthy place enough â€" inoro respt^uta- ble jierhapa than many of such establish- ments. It was reached through a dirty oarpet- leuH passago, and up a biiro grimy staircase, and It was itself a dingy Ituor-cloihed room oontaining a high desk table in tho centre and two or throe chairs, while a door on the left opened into another room, rather less comfortless, where clients uoiild inter- view ladies whom they had any thought of engaging. Dingy as the rooms wore, the summer Bunshino found its way oven hero ; it â- treamud through the dirty panes of glass, falling in a bright streak of light on tho fa<led and soiled (covering of the floor, on the piles of letters and papers scattered on tbeae8k'table,onthegravebut not unkindly- looking woman who sat before it and ro- oeived the applioants and on two ot the lat- ter â€" one ai|uiet, Udylikegirl neatly dressed, the other a showy handsome damsel, who •tood on this hot July day waiting for her audience while tho former was having hers with tho grave faced woman, who, letter In band, was giving her the address of some sitnation likely to suit her. " I havo already answered several," tho girl was saying rather wearily ; "and peo- ple are always either siiiteil or want more aooomplishmenta than I am possessed of." " Yes," said tho kindly voice from the other sido of the desk, " people are unreasonable in asking (or so many accomplishments from one {lerson ; but your great drawback. Miss Johnson, is your not being a proficient musician." "I know," the girl replied sadly, "but I have no chance of becoming that, Miss Milton." " Well, they do not want music here," said Miss Milton, smiling, "sol ho[M> you will bo saccessful. Let me know at once, if you please." " 1 will, certainly. Thank you very much." The girl tripped away, looking much brighter, and with a light step went down tho grimy staircaso. Ilalf way she met another applicant coming up, a slender girl in black, who leaned rather heavily on the balustrade, and who had pushed away her heavy crape veil from hor white thiu face, out of which her oyes seemed to shine with a feverish lustre. They passed each other in silence, and, while the one went out into tho sunshine, tho other went on and knocked timidly at the door on which " Governess Agencyâ€" Miss Milton" was painted in white letters on dark brown ground. "Come in," Miss Milton said from within ; and a slight shadow fell over her face as sho saw the slender drooping figure that entered the room with a deprecating look in the sweet sad eyes which went to Miss Milton's heart familiar as she waa with pain and disappointment and sorrow in the poor ladies who sought her aid. The smartly dressed young lady was expresBing her opinions and ruiuirementa in a decided and peremptory tone. There waa 111) need for her to "go out" she said ; but she wanted to see something of tho world, and would like tu accompany n family travelling abroad. Uer list of reciuirements was a long one, and varied, for her " p» " had given her tho very best rest a little, andyou will tell mo then, education to be had for money. Miss Milton thought that it was a pity sho could not have also acijuired some refinement, and a manner which would make her a suitable companion for girls who would bo wcmen and honest men's wives perhaps some day. " I havo nothing, I think, likely to suit you to-day," said Miss Milton quietly. " If you will leave mu your addroas, I will write to you ; and meanwhile, if you are in this neifjhborhood, you might call again." " Oh, very well ; there is no immediate hurry ! ' responded tho young lady, sweep iiig away in her piok gingham dress and lace-trimmed hat| aiid then tho slender girl in black came forward and stood by the desk. The pitying f:lance deepened in Miss Milton's eyes as she looked up at the little, eager, pale face with the pitiful, tremulous smile Uickering on tho white lips. " You have not been successful?' Miss Milton said kindly. "No." " Did you see tho lady â€" Mrs. B{)oarB waa it not?" " Yes, but â€" " " You did nut suit her?" "It was not that," the sweet, unsteady voice answered, "but â€" " " You are tired You have walked all this way in the sun,' said Miss Milton gently. " Sit down and rest a little, and you will toll me then. " I am not tired," the girl answered, oon- ijuering the agitation which waa so visible in the shaking hands anil i|aivering lips. " But sho oaked mo so many iiuestions â€" and then hIio would not engage mo." Her head sunk forward upon her broast, and a burning blush of shaine rose in her pale face, coloring it from chin to brow with a crimson glow. " Why not?" " liecauao I could not give her any reference." " Ah, I thought so !" Miss Milton said, with a sigh. " Itut what is to bo done, Mrs. Grant ? You yourself, in her place, would have done the same thing, it is im- possible, you know, to take a (leraon into one s house, especially for such an impor- tant post, without knowing something of their anteoedents." " Hut I told her," Mrs. Grant answered simply, " that there were reasons why could not refer her to my friends, and that sho might trust mo ; and - and sho only laughed." There was a minute's pause then ; the hot red glow was fading out of thu sweet pale face, and she loaned wearily against tho desk, looking at Miss Milton with very wistful eyes. " 1 am afraid," tho latter said, with a little reluctance, " that, unless you can give a reference, you will find it very dilli- cult to obtain a situation, Mrs. Grant- in fact, 1 may say, it will buiiiipousible. And il is not to be wondered at. Ladies cannot 1m! too particular," she added a little stitUy, " in their choice of a governess." "XSut 1 told her, as 1 told the other lady whose address you gave me, that 1 wo lid try so hard to please her," was the earnest answer. " 1 am sure she would not have regretted taking mu. 1 would have been so kind to the children, and ho [Hirsevering, and â€" oh, she might have truated iiiel" " 1 do not seo how you uoultt havo e.x- pected her to do so. It is such a suspicious circumstance, you having no reference, Mrs. Grant. You must exuuse my speak- ing so frankly ; it is for your own sake. Is It i|iiito impossible for you to write to any of your friends? ' " Il is impossible," the young girl ans- wered â€" for, though sho seemed to bo a widow, sho had not yet passed her girl- hood " lint yon are anxious beyond everything to obtain a siluatiun ?" " Yea â€" oh, yes!" " Andâ€" and " â€" Mias Milton hoaitatcd, and glanced at the papers before her -"you told me that you woiUd soon be at tho end of your resources ?" " Yes," Mrs. Grant repeated. " And if you ito not obtain some work, you may he reduced aliiioat to destitution?" MisH Milton continued earnestly. " U is a terrible thing to be in London without friends or money. You had better make up your mind to write to your friends." " Hut even if it be terrible," the girl ans- wered steadily, " to be without friends and gotten now ! I think aometimea," she con- tinued, lifting her wistful eyes to the grave face watching her, "that it wis wrong and foolish to leave them â€" but I did it for tho best â€" I did it for the beat I" Uer voice had risen almost to a wail as she repeated the words ; but, meeting Misa Milton's surprised glance, she colored and instantly checked her agitation. " I beg your pardonâ€" 1 forgot," abeaaid, in a low voice ; then sho wont on very pleadinglyâ€"" Mias Milton, could you not help moâ€" could you not let mo aay you know me? Ah, you need not be afraid to recommend me â€" you need " I think you hardly know what you are asking me," said Miss Milton coldly. " You are asking mo to put my name to a false recommendation ; and such a thing might be tho ruin of my agency alto- gether." But you do know me 1" Mrs. Grant cried pitifully. I beg your pardon. I know you merely as an applicant at my otiioo for a gover- ness's situation. You came to me two or three months ago, asking me to enter your name in my hooka, and I did so. I know nothing further of you, except that none of tho ladies to whom I sent you would en- gage you, and also that three or four times, when I gave you an address, you refused with evident terror to go to that house. All these are suspicious circumatances, Mra. Grant," continued Miss Milton, with dig- nity ; " and really I am not justified in overlooking them even as much as I have done." " Butâ€" but I have done nothing wrong," said Mrs. Grant brokenly ; she seemed too bowed down even to resent the words. " You forget that I have only your word for that," returned Mias Milton, compres- sing her lips in a displeased manner. Only my word 1" tho young widow echoed, looking up with startled eyes. " Only my word I" she repeated haughtily. And do you do^bt my word ? Do you think I would tell you a lie?" My dear Mrs. Grant, there is no oc- casion for heroics," said Miss Milton quietly. I am oblii^ed to be very circumspect, and indeed I have dopartuit from my nsnal caution in tho matter already. I (eel in. terested in you, and in your solitary posi- tion, and I have done what I could (or you â€" more oven than jxirhaps I ought. There is no necessity for you to turn against me because I have been unaoccessful." " I did not mean to be ungrateful," was tho earnest answer; the momentary anger bad died away, and she stood pallid and trembling, leaning against the desk once more. " You havo been very kind to me, butâ€" but indeed you might safely assist me further. I know that 1 am asking a great deal, but " " Yuu are asking what I cannot grant, ' Miss Milto snid (lecidedty. " I have my good rrpute to maintain ; and I think this such a strange and extraordinary ro()aeBt of yours, Mrs. Grant, that really I must decline to give you any further addreasea. A person who tuuld ank for a false recom- mendatioB would be the last person in the world suitable for a govurness or any posi- tion of trust." '- iJo you mtan that 1 am not to trouble you again," asked Mrs. Grant, standing erect, with a trembling dignity which had something very pathetic in its unconscious grace â€" " that 1 am not to come here any more?" W " I should prefer your not doing so," said Miss Milton, in a rather shame faced manner. " You see 1 have my position to keep up. 1 am really very sorry ; but 1 will return you your registration fee if you like, although 1 have no right to do so, as vou have had so many addresses and let- ters." " There is no need to return it," Mrs. Grant replied steadily; " and I should re- gret del ply that your position or your good name shuiild sufler through mo. Thank you for all the kindness )ou Uavo shown me. 1 will not trespass on it further. Good-morning." She turned away with her usual pretty dignity and grace, which struck Miss Mil- ton even in her annoyance and displeasure, and which brought back a thought which had struck her before, that tho young widow waa not in the position to which sho had been accustomed. She answered hor " Goodinorning " rather sullenly and shamefacedly, for, although sho was doing only what she honestly considered her duty, she felt a pang of self reproach as she saw the slender, weary figure, in the heavy black garments which looked ao sorrowful on that sunshiny summer day, move toward the door. There the widow turned, all the pride and haughtiness nieltingout of the palo face as she looked toward Miss Milton. " Thank you, sho said softly, stretching out liur hand with a little gesture of faro- well. " You have been very good to me, and I -1 thank you." She opened tho door before Miss Milton could reply and passed out, closing it after her ; and Misa Milton resumed her book- keeping with a mixed feeling of relief, regret, and coinpnaaion which was very unusual to her, and which she tried to dismiss in vain. " 1 wibh she had taken back hor fee," she muttered, as she copied some addresses in her business likehaudwriting. "Of course, she has almost had the money in stamps, et cdtera) ; but she looked so solitary, and â€" 1 wonder what her story is ? Kven sad- der than moat of tho sad ones I hear hore so often !" Meanwhile Mrs. Grant had gone slowly and wearily down tho grimy staircase, her heart heavier even than it had been when she mounted it half an hour before ; and, when she reached tho bottom, she rested her head fur a moinont on tho baluater, in utter depression and weariness lioth of mind and bo 'y. She had walked many miles in the hot sun that morning, and she was faint with fatigue ; but the pain at her heart and the Weariness of her spirit were greater even than her weariness of body. It had l«Bn somti littlo comfort to her in her loneliness in London to come to the agency and talk to Miss Milton, oven when the latter had no address for her. If Miss Milton waa not busy, sho was quite willing j to talk to her ; and tho poor young widow I was too utterly solitary not to bo glad to money in London, it is better to be so than , havo any one to speak to in tho great wil- to give trouble and pain and suffering to deriioas whero she seemed to bo cast away those whom yon love." I and lost. Now she could never go back " But surely their ignorance of your con- there again -never 1 dition must give them mare trouble than ; She felt very desulato as she lifted her anything else?" j head, pulled down her crape veil, and went 'I'ho sweet troubled fftco dropped a littlo. ' out into tho street. It waa very hotâ€" ao " At flrat it did iMsrhaps," sho answered ; hot that the boat made peoplo langnid and " but now so many months have gone by weak. Mrs. Grant's heavy crape trimmed thatâ€" thatâ€" oh, surely they wiU have for- draperies were uot a very suitable attire for such weather, and sho felt their weight and beat dreadfully as she walked on. It was a day to make one long for sea-breezes and cool drinks and freab fruit, and to make the stuffy London streets almost nn- bearable. " What shall I do? What shall I do ?" the young widow aaid aoftly under her veil as she went down the quiet street ; and, as she stood still for a moment to consider whither she could go or what she could do to obtain some employment, a handsome carriage dashed into the street, bringing the inhabitants to their windows to look at the stylish equipage, at which Mra. Grant glanced carelessly and uninterestedly as it passed. It contained only one lady, a hand- Bome fair-haired woman in cool grayattire, trimmed with a profusion of lace, who passed the black-robed figure without notic- ing it. But at the sight of the occupant of the vehicle Mra. Grant turned pale as death and pressed both hands to her heart in terror ; and, waiting only to see that the carriage stopped at the door of the agency oflice, she walked on hurriedlyâ€" so hur- riedly indeed that she alinoat ranâ€" until she had placed three or four streets and squarea between her and it. Then she atopped, panting, trembling, breathleas, leaning against the iron rail- iugof an area for support. '• What ooul.l she want there ?" she said to beraelf in a paroxysm of terror. " Has she heardâ€" does she know ? And Miss Milton has my address, and she will give it to her ! What shall I do nowâ€" what shall Ido?" She walked on a little way, clasping and unclasping her bands in her agitation and distress. " I dare not go home," she muttered. " Sho will have followed me there ; and I could not bear she should see me thus â€" she, of all peopleâ€" she always hated me ! Oh, Ueaven help mo, what can I do? There is no UBo entreating her forbearance, although I would even do that to spare him the re- opening of the wound which is perhaps healed by now. My darling, how can I apareyou? What can I do?" She opened her purse and began counting its contents with feverish eagerness and trembling fingers. They vs-ere not difficult to count, for the little purse, a dainty silver- mounted toy, was light and almost empty â€"half a sovereign in gold, shiilinga and half-crowns suQicient to make with the gold piece the sum of one pound, and two or three pennies. She counted the coins twice ; but she could not increase the sum, poor childâ€" all the money she possessed in the world, " That will not take mo far," she said, bitterly ; " but il will be better to go away, If she knows I am in London, she will soon hunt me down. Ah, it I had only stayed! But I did it for tbe best. And now to got to a railway station," she added, with a sudden lifting of tho graceful head, as if she were try ing toshakeofi berdepres- sion. "How am 1 to find my way toone?" Sauntering slowly toward her was a policeman ou his beat ; and she went up to him quietly and asked him to show her tho way to the nearest railway-station. " Do you mean on the Metropolitan line?" he asked. Noâ€" oh, no! I want to leave London," she aaid eagerly. " And where do you want to go ?" " Anywhereâ€" It does not matter." Tbe good natured expression of the roan's stolid face changed to as keen a look of suspicion as that face could assume, and ho surveyed her (roin head to foot before he nswered. Mrs. Grant lifted her head haughtily. " Will you direct me, if you please ?" sho said, in quiet, measuted tones ; and Bomething iu her manner forced him to answer. That is I'addington Station just op- posite," ho said, jerking his chin in the direction he winheil to show her. " Thank you." She turned and crossed the road, still with her veil down, and entered tbe station. It wan comparatively quiet just then, tho travellers by a tram which was about to start were few, aud Mrs. Grant had no ditllculty in making her way to the plat form. Whore is that train going ?" ake said to a jHjrter standing by. " Torquay," ho answered shortly. Torquay I She could not go there ; she might bo recogiii/.ed. Does it stop anywhere on tho way?" Yes, it's a i'arliamentary." Is that the only train leaving just now ?" " There's one for Hereford in ten min- ute« ' " Thank you." Sho turned from him and entered the booking-otlico. " A ticket for Hereford," she said trem- ulously. " Kirat-olaas?" said tbe official sharply. " No- third." " The other sido of tho booking-oftice." â-  Mrs. Grant looked at him in a rather be- wildered manner ; then she began dimly to understand, and found her way to thu other side of thu booking-otfiue, where the second and third-claas tickets wero issued. There was no third-ulasa to the next train, tho booking-clerk said, and Mra. Grant's heart sunk heavily. " What is the price of second-class?" she said tremulously. " Nineteen and threoi)ence." " Will you give mo a ticket ?" sho said eagerly ; and. having paid for it, thus re- ducing her stock of ready money to one shilling, she hastened out of the office. " Any luggage, ma'am ?' " No," sho an.swered shrinkingly ; and she fancied as she got into the train that tho porter looked at her suspiciously ; but, to her alarmed and e-\citod fancy, every one appeared to watch her. (To beoontinued^ FAEM AND GASOEK. Ilarbarlo Vawperw. Stranger (to fellow paasengor)â€" "From tho west, sir?" I'assBnger- " Yes.Oshkoah." Stranger -'• I'm from Kalamazoo, myself." Passengerâ€" " That sol Kalamazoo is a (unny name (or a town." Strangerâ€"" Yea, I s'pose it does sound (unny to a man from Oshkoah; but wo Kalamazoo people are used to it." Mr. Gladstone, says tho Liverpool I'ott, ia aa halo and hearty to day aa is the aver- age man in his GOth year. At a recent reception some one addressing him expressed tho hope that ho was well. " Very well," repliocl Mr. Gladstone; " there i-i nothing JottlDcs that May Ii« Stadled with ProHt at the Initle-Nook. Manures consisting of potash, phosphoric acid and ammonia, or nitrates, appear competent to grow large crops of wheat continuously. An Knglish authority has compnted that in the last three or four years more pigs have died in the United States from cholera than have been raised in the British Islea. The Maasschusotta Cattle Commis- aionera, after due investigation, report that bog cholera in that State ia f«l by feeding swill containing germs of the disease brought from the west in freaii pork. It ia scarcely possible to have land free from weeds ; seeOa of tho couuuou weeds seem to be everlasting, and are so uomer- ous that tbe plants still continue to appear after many years of moat persistent de- struction. It has been found in California that a cold air blast dries fruit iu the moat satis- factory manner. Samples of (ruit dried in this wayâ€" prunea, apricots and apples â€" two years ago are still iu a perfect state of preservation. A correspondent of Orchard and Garden- has bagged many clustera while iu blossom to protect them from rose bugs, and the uniform result has been thai tliey have pro- duced no grapes unless the blucsoma were ready to drop or already off when bagged. Tbe value of any kind of farm stock is very largely determined by its feeding the first year of its life- Bre«-ding counts for much, though every uucccssful breeder knows bow greatly tbe character of a young animal is changed by iuuutritiotis or improper food. There is no quicker or handier way ol disposing of refuse, soda, muck, weeds, etc., than to rot them down in a compost heap. Surely dead animals are best dis- posed of iu this way. Thu most common fermenting agents used iu the compost heap are stable manure and nigbl-aoil. I'ro(essor Arnold has said : " The sooner the minds o( dairymen are disabused of the idea that the ripening of cream and the development of high flavor of butter lie only iu the souring of the cream the better will il be f jr their reputation and their pocketa, and also for the consumers." Begonias grow wt II iu a light, sandy loam with a small aidition of leaf mold. They are quite at homo in the tbade, ' ut require a moist, vt'arni temperaiure to fully develop the beauty of the foliage. They do tolerably well as room plants, but the dry air robs the colors of their brilliancy. Nevertheless, they are still handsome aud interesting plants in rooma. When hens learn to eat eggs they never forget tbe trick, and should be killed before they could teach others the habit. KggS should be gathered twice a day during cold weather, and only glass or porcelain nest eggs abould be left in at night By noticing which hena try to break lhri>e imitation eggs the gulty fowls can sometimes be dis- covered. Improved plants are like iiiipiovcd ani- mals ; their very improvein. Lt makes it necessary that the care by %fcbub they were produced should bo continunl. When this la not done they may not do nearly as well as an old kind, habituated to aoiiie extent to hardships. It is a fact that scrub- farmers succeed beat with scrub stock and scrub crops A little charcoal thrown to ilio piga con- fined in pens will b.' readily laien, aud will apparently do them more goiul than the grain. It seems to bo e-ipecitillv uc«-deil by pigs fed mainly on corn, which is apt to sour on their stomachs and lUstroy their appotitoB. rigs that aru kept where they cau reach fresh soil will often eat it, and there is no doubt that it ia giMd for them. It has been asserted tliai a given amount of food and attention will produce aa many pounds of chicken lle«li a-i it will of hog tlosli. If so, why cannot farmers make poultryraicingprofltablearul eai nutritions chicken meat instead of so inii'li bacon ? A pound of fowl tieah will iir.Kluco more physical strength or muscular pjwer than a pound of fat bacon, but there are many (leople who do not believe it. By repeated cropping with the same crop soils are more quickly e.\h>.usted than where a rotation is practiced Tho rotation ia also useful in avoiding diseaRoa and insects which attack vegetaticii. It would appear from recent oxperimeula with elec- tric light upon the growth of planta that this light is capable of replacii g sunlight, but whether this cau be done luonomically has not as yet been proved. Staggers are tho result of congestion of tho brain, duo to overfeeding. I'iga are more often overfed than any other auimala, and it ia the aource of nearly all tho dis- eases to which they are sul'jei t It affcots tho nerve centres in tho brain itiid spinal cord. Give the piga no feed ai all (or forty- eight hours, but only water, ilieii begin feeding very lightly, and give tJie food in a shallow trough, so that it can be taken up only slowly. To prevent tho work of the borer on {Hiach trees tbe Kirm ami ifi'm<Teioiiimonds that all the earth around the tr.e bo cleared away for a foot in diameter on each side of the trunk and down to tho roots. Kill any borers that may show evidence of being present, and then paint the tree to eight inohes above the ground with a mixture composed of three pinta ti»h oil, three pints soft soap, two pouiula whale oil ao«p, and two pounds sulphur and return tho earth ta tho roots. The J/a'/wt givea tho following as on in- fallible preservation of eggs : " X'ake a teacupful of salt and lime the size of an egg, and pour boding water on them. When cold, drain off the liiiuor and put il on the eggs. 1( too atroiig there will bo a crust on top ; i( so, add more water. This is (or two gallons o( liquor. There i» no receipt that beats this, and it can bo relied upon. Eggs put down in August and used in April are just aa fre«h and make juat aa nice frostings as newly laiit one-i." One benetit which tho (aru\er who sur- rounds his home premisen with artificial groves will realizt", and which i-hould by no inoana be lost sight of, is that such groves invite tho insect destroying birds, which are the farmers' best friends, in protecting fruit or other oropa from the ravages of destruotive inaeulif. It is true that some of them claim a shore of tho small fruita, but not a larger portion, we think, than they are justly entitled to as lemuneration for their work in destroying insects. Then, thov I ., - .. , 1 .1 . J- , ,- 1 *>!»'"> thov are so companionablethat their tho matter with mo except the ineradicable preseuoo on the premises IS worth a groat disease of old age. • deti.