s 
9 
with brush or light smoothing harrow— 
preferably both cover and roll. Seed can 
be had of most seedsmen, but every farmer 
can better save his own seed, for it is very 
easily knocked out with pitchfork or flail. 
J. Cowens. 
(Continued from page 5.) 
He heard the rusty hinges creak, he could 
not stir, he could not speak, he could not 
turn his head away; he shut his eyes and 
tried to pray; upon his brow,of pallid hue 
the cold sweat stood like drops of dew; at 
last he shrieked, aloud and shrill—the door 
swung back and all was still. 
That midnight cry, from room to room, 
resounded loudly through the gloom. The 
farmer and his wife at rest, within their 
warm and cozy nest, awoke and sprang, in 
strange attire, forth from their bed loud 
shouting — “fire!” but finding neither smoke 
nor flame, soon stumb ing up the stairs they 
came. In cotton bedquilts quaintly dressed, 
they heard a deep groan from their guest, 
and full of wonder and affright, pushed in 
the door and struck a light. 
Deep down within the feather bed Lycur- 
gus had withdrawn his head, and, out of 
sight, lay quaking there with throbbing 
breast and bristling hair. They questioned 
him, but he was still; he shook as if lie had 
a chill; the courage was completely gone 
from tall Lycurgus Littlejohn. 
What human language can express the 
modest maiden's dire distress, while stand¬ 
ing still behind the screen, a sad spectator 
of the scene ? What pen or pencil can por¬ 
tray her mute despair and deep dismay ? 
A while she stood and through the door 
she peeped across the bedroom floor; the 
way was clear and like a vise she grasped 
the sausage cold as ice, sprang from the 
closet, and from sight she glided like a 
gleam of light; away without look or word 
she flew like an affrighted bird; without a 
moment of delay, the mystery cleared itself 
aioay ! 
Again the snow gleams on the ground; 
again the sleigh-bells gaily sound; again on 
“Miller’s Hill” we hear the shouts of child¬ 
ren loud and clear; but in the barn is heard 
no more the flapping flail upon the floor. 
The house is down, its inmates gone, and 
tall Lycurgus Littlejohn is now an old man 
worn with care, with stooping form and 
silver hair. He married dark-eyed Susan 
Stow, and they were happy, years ago. 
When, in the merry winter time, their 
children's children round him climb, he 
tells them of his fearful fright, on that far 
distant winter night; and after they are- 
put to bed, when by the fire with nodding 
head he sits and sinks to slumbers deep, 
and quakes and shivers in his sleep, alas t 
he is but dreaming still of that spare bed on 
Miller’s Hill .”—Eageiie J. Hall . in Chicago 
Tribune. 
The Japan Tvy. 
(Ampelopsis Tricuspidata.) 
The Japan Ivy, probably better known as 
Ampelopsis Veitchii, from its introducers, 
Messrs. Veitch Brothers of London, is one 
the finest of wall plants, clinging to the 
smoothest surface perfectly. It seems to 
have strength enough in itself to hold itself 
upright, only requiring something to lean 
against. It is very free-growing and will 
spread out all over a wall and cover it com¬ 
pletely, if planted close to it. The leaves 
are smaller than those of the American va¬ 
riety and grow in threes, whence its specific 
name, tricuspidata. The vine grows more 
compactly, the leaves overlapping each oth¬ 
er in the most regular manner, forming a 
dense sheet of green through the summer, 
coloring exquisitely in the autumn with 
beautiful shades of orange and crimson. It 
is entirely hardy after getting once estab¬ 
lished and grows rapidly. Although not 
an evergreen like its sister the English Ivy, 
it is superior to it on account of its greater 
hardiness in our changeable climate. 
Our cut on the opposite page is an accu¬ 
rate one from a photograph of a beautiful 
vine upon the north wall of a residence in 
Rochester, N. Y., and was made for our 
friend Mr. Geo. S. Wales, to whom we are 
under obligations for the use of it. 
“We both scratch for a living,” said the 
old hen to the editor. He told her to sheer 
off. . 
Be slow to make promises and faithful in 
the performance of them when made. 
