Sept.  10 
598 
A  Visit  to  the  Old  Folks. 
Wal,  I’ve  been  off,  Luelndy  Jane, 
And  taken  my  vacation; 
I  took  the  cars  to  Ashfield  town 
By  way  of  Deerfield  station. 
I  didn't  bev  no  call  to  go; 
I  wasn't  sick  nor  ailin’ ; 
But  wife  she  said  I’d  oughter,  fer 
8be  s'mlsed  th'  old  folks  was  failin'. 
So  I  sot  out  and  took  the  train, 
And  when  I’d  fairly  started, 
I’ll  own  right  up,  Luelndy  Jane, 
I  did  feel  lighter  hearted. 
It  did  me  good  to  see  the  fields, 
The  harvestin’  and  hayin’, 
The  trees  all  seemed  to  nod  to  me 
As  ef  they  were  a  savin’: 
“  You’re  welcome  home,  Jehoshaphat. 
You’ve  been  a  long  time  cornin’ : 
The  brooks  they  seemed  to  babble  It, 
The  bees,  too,  In  their  bummln'. 
And  when  I  neared  the  old  brown  house, 
Where  you  and  I.  Luelndy, 
Were  born  and  reared,  and  when  I  saw 
An  old  face  at  the  windy. 
I’ll  own  right  up,  Luelndy  Jane. 
There's  something  In  a  mother 
Tbet  makes  a  man  a  boy  again, 
And  so,  somehow  or  other, 
Before  I  knew  what  she  was  at. 
She  bed  her  arms  around  me. 
And  said,  “  Why’  it's  Jehoshaphat !  ” 
And  then  my  father  found  me. 
And  then  1  had  a  good  square  meal 
Of  fried  cakes,  pie  and  flxin’s, 
And  honest  country  bred,  yeast  riz, 
Uome-made.  of  mother’s  mlxin’. 
I  paid  the  mortgage  off  the  farm, 
I  hed  the  roof  new  shingled, 
And  painted  up  the  house  new  style, 
With  red  and  yeller  mingled. 
1  bought  new  rockers  fer  the  porch 
Where  mother  sets  a-knltten', 
While  In  her  comfortable  lap 
She  holds  the  purrin’  kitten. 
And  so  I  left  ’em  better  off, 
With  hired  help  to  'tend  ’em, 
And  all  the  money  that  they  want 
I’m  ready  fer  to  send  ’em. 
And  1  tell  you,  Lucindy  Jane, 
It  paid  me  for  my  trouble, 
To  see  the  dear  old  folks  again, 
Kf  it  had  cost  me  double.  A.  K.  h. 
Odds  and  Ends. 
A  Farmer's  Outing.— A  beautiful  prac¬ 
tice  is  in  vogue  among  the  people  of 
Nichols,  Connecticut,  just  outside  of 
Bridgeport  city.  Several  times  during 
the  summer  and  autumn  word  is  given 
out  that  such  a  day  will  be  a  “  beach 
day.”  Then  everybody  in  the  village 
who  desires,  turns  out  and  goes  to  the 
sea  shore  with  the  entire  family,  includ¬ 
ing  the  servants.  It  is  a  round  drive  of 
12  to  16  miles,  and  the  jollity  and  good 
cheer  of  a  village  picnic  cannot  be  appre¬ 
ciated  until  they  are  experienced.  It  is  a 
custom  that  could  be  imitated  with  profit 
by  other  communities.  s. 
It.  N.-Y. — There  is  no  doubt  about  the 
value  of  these  gatherings.  The  farmers 
near  Southold,  L.  I.,  have  a  Harvest 
Home  festival  every  year,  that  is  very  en 
joyable.  Prof.  D.  P.  Horton,  a  farmer 
and  musician,  has  charge  of  this  Harvest 
Home  and  much  of  its  success  is  due  to 
his  untiring  efforts. 
No  Show  for  “Oleo.” — A  manufac¬ 
turer  of  oleomargarine  wrote  our  Consul 
at  Morocco  asking  what  chances  there 
were  for  the  introduction  of  his  goods 
there.  Of  course  he  praised  “oleo”  as 
a  pure,  sweet  product.  He  received  this 
reply,  which  probably  made  him  wish  he 
had  told  more  of  the  truth  about  his 
stuff : 
I  am  sorry  to  say  that  nothing  can  be 
done  in  this  locality  with  the  class  of 
goods  you  speak  of.  Native  butter  «is 
too  plenty  and  too  cheap  to  undertake  to 
compete  with  it  at  the  distance  you  are 
writing.  And,  again,  you  give  your 
goods  a  very  bad  recommendation  to  sell 
to  the  natives.  You  say  it  won’t  turn 
rancid  ;  by  that  the  Moors  would  imagine 
they  could  get  no  stink  out  of  it,  in  which 
case  it  would  be  quite  tasteless  to  them. 
They  say  of  butter  :  “No  stink,  no  good.” 
The  Moors  never  put  salt  in  butter,  and 
to  prepare  it  for  use  they  press  it  into 
coarse  stone  jars,  containing  from  10  to 
40  pounds,  the  aperture  just  large 
enough  to  pass  their  fist  through  ;  when 
full,  or  nearly  so,  they  plaster  the  top 
over  with  soft  cow  dung,  then  bury  it  in 
the  ground,  and  when  it  has  been  there 
from  three  to  five  years  it  is  taken  out 
all  ready  for  use.  It  then  contains  all 
the  colors  of  the  rainbow,  and  as  many 
different  tastes  and  scents.  Butter  is  of 
no  use  to  the  Moor  until  it  is  toned  up  to 
that  pitch,  and  unless  you  can  conjure 
up  an  article  that  will  outstink  the 
Moorish  butter  when  prepared  for  use, 
don’t  write  me  any  more  on  that  subject. 
THE  RURAL  N 
Mice  That  Sing.— Frequent  stories  of 
haunted  houses  have  been  sifted  down  to 
mice.  These  little  animals  in  the  walls 
and  under  the  floors  of  buildings  some¬ 
times  make  so  much  noise  that  servants 
and  others  readily  talk  about  ghosts.  All 
mice  do  not  make  such  noises  as  to 
frighten  people — those  that  do  are  called 
singing  mice.  Several  of  them  have  been 
caught  and  examined.  Harper's  Young 
People  says  of  them: 
They  do  not,  it  appears,  sing  with  their 
throats,  like  other  songsters,  but  with 
their  710868.  Their  vocal  chords  are  vi¬ 
brating  folds  of  the  skin  at  the  outlet  of 
each  nostril,  and  the  performer  can  vary 
the  tone  from  high  to  low  by  using  more 
or  less  force  in  expelling  the  air.  When 
quite  by  himself,  the  sound  produced  by 
the  singer  resembles  that  of  an  iEolian 
harp:  but  in  a  cage,  when  the  small  pris¬ 
oner  is  often  singing  for  effect,  the  notes 
are  much  bolder. 
“  Niggery  Work.” — Bill  Arp  has  left 
his  Georgia  home  for  a  visit  to  Texas. 
Here  is  one  thing  he  says  about  the  white 
labor  in  the  Texas  town  : 
Every  dray  and  hack  and  carriage  is 
driven  by  clever,  wideawake  young  men; 
white  barbers  shave  you,  and  white  folks 
do  everything  and  are  not  ashamed  of 
it.  I  know  young  white  men  in  my  town 
who  are  clerking  for  $25  a  month,  who 
could  make  $50  or  $60  running  a  dray, 
but  they  won’t  do  it  because  it  looks  nig¬ 
gery.  I  know  poor  girls  who  won’t  hire 
to  cook  or  clean  up  the  house  for  the 
same  reason.  All  labor  is  honorable  here. 
A  young  white  man  has  just  made  up  my 
bed  here  in  the  hotel,  and  he  talked  to 
me  intelligently  and  pleasantly  while  he 
cleaned  up  the  room.  He  is  earning  hon¬ 
est  money,  and  will  get  a  better  place 
after  awhile. 
Well,  what  made  such  work  “  nig¬ 
gery?”  The  only  way  to  make  it 
“  wliitery  ”  is  for  white  men  to  do  it  bet¬ 
ter  in  all  respects  than  the  negroes  do. 
Master  of  Your  Dog. — In  a  story  just 
begun  in  the  Century  Magazine,  the  fol¬ 
lowing  dialogue  occurs  between  a  city 
man  and  a  Tennessee  mountain  girl.  The 
man’s  dog  has  just  frightened  the  bull  on 
which  the  girl  was  riding  with  a  bag  of 
meal : 
“Look  thar  now — see  what  you’ve 
done.  Why  didn't  ye  call  that  dog  off  ?” 
“  I  couldn’t.  He  wouldn’t  come.  I’m 
sorry — very  sorry  !  ” 
“  Can’t  ye  manage  yer  own  dog  ?  ” 
“Not  always  !  ” 
“Thenyeorter  leave  him  ter  home, 
and  not  let  him  go  ’round  a-skeering 
folks’  beastes.” 
Why  wasn’t  this  girl  sound  as  a  dollar 
in  her  logic?  What  business  has  any 
man  to  keep  a  dog  that  is  beyond  his  con¬ 
trol  ?  There  is  little  or  no  danger  from 
dogs  that  obey  ;  the  curs  that  disobey  do 
the  damage.  When  a  dog  gets  into  mis¬ 
chief,  he  simply  shows  his  poor  bringing 
up,  and  reflects  the  shiftlessness  and  lack 
of  force  of  his  master  !  Master  the  dog 
or  meat  him. 
A  Baby’s  Promise. — M.  D.  Colquitt 
tells  this  touching  story  of  a  little  boy 
whose  widowed  mother  had  met  with 
more  than  her  share  of  losses  and  trou¬ 
bles.  The  little  fellow  had  acquired  a 
habit  of  saying  “apperafile,”  meaning 
after  a  while : 
It  came  to  pass  in  this  sad  world  of 
ours  that  the  poor  little  sorrow- worn 
mother  fell  ill.  The  dear  baby  hovered 
around  her  all  the  time,  performing 
lovely  little  ministrations  that  seemed 
strangely  wise  for  his  tender  years.  His 
little  hands,  like  crab-apple  blossoms  in 
their  pinky  fairness,  were  so  helpful  and 
steady  ;  the  tiny  feet,  winged  with  love, 
were  fleet  to  do  his  “  mudder's”  bidding. 
Finally,  the  day  came  when  his  dear 
“  mudder,”  or  the  mortal  part  of  her  that 
he  loved,  could  not  last  much  longer, 
and,  calling  the  dear,  wise  baby  to  her 
side,  she  talked  to  him  in  her  low  cares¬ 
sing  voice. 
“  Now,  darling,  mother  has  to  go  on  a 
visit  to  a  sweet,  far-away  country,  where 
God  lives  ;  she  cannot  take  you  with  her 
now,  but  you  must  be  a  good  boy,  and 
you  can  come  there  some  time.  She  will 
see  your  papa  and  your  pretty  auntie, 
who  went  there  when  she  was  like  a 
June  rose — and  all  this  pain  and  cough¬ 
ing  will  be  over.” 
His  great  wondering  eyes  rested  on 
hers,  not  sadly,  but  full  of  interest  in 
his  mother’s  pleasant  journey.  Then 
she  kissed  him,  and  oh,  how  she  strained 
him  to  her  heart !  Friends  gathered 
around  to  say  a  few  last  faltering  words; 
she  answered  them  calmly,  with  that 
unselfishness  that  had  made  fier  life  so 
EW-YORKER. 
BRADLEY’S  SUPERPHOSPHATE. 
'THE  continued  use  of  Bradley's  Superphosphate  for 
long  terms  of  years  by  successful  farmers  throughout 
the  country ,  and  its  yearly  increasing  sales,  prove  con¬ 
clusively  that  it  is  all  it  is  represented  to  be,  and  the 
acknowledged  standard  fertilizer  of  the  country. 
It  is  so  prepared  that  while  it  gives  the  young  plant  a 
quick  start,  it  does  not  exhaust  its  vitality,  but  furnishes 
a  continued  supply  of  food  for  the  entire  season,  and  is, 
moreover,  of  great  benefit  to  succeeding  crops  grown  upon 
the  same  land. 
Bradley's  Superphosphate  is  so  prepared  that  it  is  in 
every  sense  a  complete  fertilizer,  and  produces  the  largest 
crops  of  the  finest  quality  grain  without  the  use  of  any 
stable  manure. 
It  is  in  superior  mechanical  condition,  which  renders  it 
perfectly  adapted  for  either  drilling  or  sowing  broadcast. 
Read  the  Following: 
Plainville,  N.  Y.,  October  27, 1891. 
We  have  used  Bradley's  Phosphate  for  the  past  seven  years.  It  drills 
the  best,  and  gives  the  best  results  on  wheat,  barley,  oats,  and  tpbacco, 
of  any  we  can  get.  We  sow  200  pounds  on  wheat,  100  pohnds  on 
spring  grain,  and  from  200  to  500  pounds  on  tobacco,  with  good  results. 
Our  soil  is  a  dark  loam  and  clay.  We  can  recommend  the  Bradley’s 
every  time.  T.  Hoyt  &  SON. 
BOSTON,  MASS. 
For  Sale  by  our  Local  Agents  generally. 
WESTERN  NEW  YORK  OFFICE: 
26  E.  Main  St. 
ROCHESTER,  N.  Y. 
T^\ 
BRADLEY’S 
1  |  SUPER- 
PHOSPHATE. , 
beautiful,  but  the  last  low  whispers 
were  for  her  little  man  ; 
“  You’ll  come  to  see  me  some  time, 
won’t  yoti,  darling  ?  ” 
He  nestled  his  bright  head  down  on 
the  heart  that  was  growing  chill,  and 
said,  “  Yes,  mudder,  tell  llod  me’ll  be 
dare  apperafile.” 
Society  in  Western  Towns. — E.  W. 
Howe  of  Kansas,  writes  the  Forum  about 
manners  and  customs  of  Western  towns. 
About  social  gatherings  he  says  : 
There  is  a  social  equality  in  Western 
country  towns  that  prevails  nowhere  else, 
and  the  daughters  of  the  blacksmith  are 
quite  as  prominent  as  the  daughters  of  the 
banker,  providing  they  behave  as  well, 
which  they  are  likely  to  do,  as  they  all 
grow  up  together  and  are  educated  in 
the  same  schools.  The  only  social  test  in 
the  West  is  good  conduct.  I  once  lived 
in  a  town  where  it  was  always  said,  after 
a  big  party,  that  the  line  was  drawn  only 
at  color. 
The  Western  married  man  has  no  stand¬ 
ing  in  society  except  by  his  wife’s  side. 
The  men  who  “run”  the  towns  are 
seldom  seen  at  the  parties,  which  are 
managed  by  their  unmarried  clerks.  In 
the  old  courtly  days  a  man  and  wife  had 
a  social  individuality  ;  but  when  a  man 
attends  a  social  gathering  in  the  West, 
he  is  expected  to  seat  himself  beside  his 
wife  and  behave  as  well  as  he  can,  to  the 
end  that  people  may  understand  that  he 
is  not  only  fond  of  the  worthy  woman  at 
home,  but  in  company  as  well.  If  a  mar¬ 
ried  man  should  attend  a  Western  social 
affair  without  his  wife,  he  would  be  very 
apt  to  be  approached  by  a  married  wo¬ 
man,  who  would  ask  him  in  an  audible 
whisper,  “Where  is  your  wife?”  and 
there  would  be  a  certain  something  in 
the  woman’s  tone  indicating  that  he 
ought  to  be  ashamed  of  himself  for  being 
there  under  such  circumstances.  I  once 
knew  a  gay  young  husband  to  exhibit  a 
paper,  signed  by  his  wife,  to  the  effect 
that  he  was  at  the  party  alone  with  her 
knowledge  au4  consent, 
GOOD  BOOKS. 
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