i4 
THE RURAL NEW-YORKER. 
Jan. 7 
JANET THORN'S TEMPER. 
MRS. F. M HOWARD. 
CnAP. I. 
( CfmtAnued .) 
She had never married, and her spirit 
had seemed to be buried with her, until 
in this third generation, leaping the 
boundaries of time, it had reappeared in 
Janet, better regulated by good sense, 
and modified by kindness of heart. 
“ I can’t help it, mother, when I see 
father dawdling and day-dreaming while 
you do the work. And as if that wasn’t 
bad enough, making a litter besides,” 
brushing the whittlings into the pan 
with vindictive force. “ If I were only a 
man.” 
“ Well I wish to natur you was,” re¬ 
sponded the mother meekly, “seems 
though you was more mannish now than 
Jimmy.” 
“ Well, I should hope so!” The girl 
muttered this suggestive speech in an 
undertone as she tossed the objectionable 
chips into the stove—a time-worn affair 
with one door in a state of threatened 
dissolution, the lids cracked and the dam¬ 
per broken. 
Abel had been talking about getting 
a new one for several years but his gen¬ 
erous intentions had thus far been frus¬ 
trated by the crops, (or the lack of them) 
while patience still performed her perfect 
work in the kitchen. 
“ I think Jimmy and I would better 
change wardrobes,” pursued Janet in a 
louder tone as she slammed the dustpan 
on its nail severely. 
“Jimmy’s an awful good boy though, 
J’net.” The mother’s doting affection was 
easily alarmed. 
“ Too good mother—altogether too 
good, if he had some of my surplus tem¬ 
per perhaps he’d amount to something. 
He’s so amiable he’ll let the chickens 
scratch up the garden rather than hurt 
their feelings by driving them out.” 
“ What’s that, J’net ?” A tall youth, 
two years Janet’s senior, blue-eyed, 
freckle-faced and with an expression of 
easy good nature upon his not ill-featured 
face, lounged in at the open door. 
“ J’nets sorter down on ye, Jimmy, 
’cause y’haint got more git up’n git ” 
“ Well, mother, if she’s got enough for 
both of us things are pretty well balanced 
after all. If we were both puckery and 
snappy what’d become of father and you 
between us ?” The young man’s voice 
had the echo of his mother’s drawl, and 
he was like her in many other respects. 
“ I wish sometimes a cyclone or an 
earthquake would come along and shake 
some ambition into you and pa,” stormed 
Janet, as she placed a chair against the 
wall with unnecessary energy. 
“ Oh, come now, J’net, you’re enough 
of an earthquake. What has pa been 
doing now ?” 
“ Nothing /” She turned upon him with 
flashing eyes and a gesture more sug¬ 
gestive than words. 
Jimmy laughed ; an uneasy, conscious 
laugh. “ No way to suit you, J’net, only 
to bone right down to hard work, is 
there? To change the subject now, I 
wonder what that fellow’s spying around 
our place for.” 
“ What fellow?” Janet was gather¬ 
ing materials for bread-making at the 
work-table, and faced about with eager 
inquiry. 
“Oh, a chap with eye-glasses and a 
tall hat. Blest if I didn’t see him stick 
his note down and smell, and he asked 
me all sorts of questions about the soil. 
He’s got pa corraled out back of the 
barn, and he’s putting lum through the 
catechism, best licks.” 
“ Land sakes! I hope y’r pa won’t ask 
him in to dinner,” Mrs. Thorn began to 
smooth down her thin hair nervously, 
and feel around her neck for the collar 
which was not there. “He’s always 
a-doin’ that caper when we ain't noways 
prepared for comp’ny.” 
“ Well, I'd forgive him this time if he 
did,” Janet said, beating her sponge, 
vigorously. “ I feel like a bottle of yeast, 
all corked up and ready to burst, and a 
little change will do me good.” 
“ Sort of escape valve, eh ?” suggested 
Jimmy. 
“ An’ there ain’t a speck o’ meat in the 
house ’cept salt pork,” Mrs. Thorn was 
still intent on her disadvantages. 
“ And salt pork cooked just right is 
good enough for any one.” The girl's 
combative spirit longed for something 
stirring, and the small excitement of 
creating a dinner fit to set before a 
stranger out of her meager materials, 
was a welcome diversion in the monot¬ 
onous round of her small home griev¬ 
ances. 
“Don’t cross your bridge until you 
come to it, sis. More’n likely the man 
will go on to town for his dinner.” 
“ Run up stairs, Jimmy, and bring 
down a panful of those Golden Sweets,” 
coaxed Janet, her good humor quite re¬ 
stored by the presence of even a possible 
emergency. “We will be prepared at 
all events, and baked Sweetings, with 
cream and warm biscuit, are a host in 
themselves.” 
Jimmy’s run proved to be the most de¬ 
liberate species of a slow, shulfi Dg walk, 
and he came down the stairs with a half- 
eaten apple in his hand. 
“I do wonder, Jimmy Thorn, if you 
would hurry if the last day of the world 
had come,” Janet said impatiently as she 
snatched the pan and began wiping and 
coring the luscious yellow fruit. All her 
movements were quick, and Jimmy’s 
slow motions were a perpetual trial to 
her. 
“ Why no, of course not. What would 
be the use ? ” and Jimmy’s blue eyes 
opened wide with a blank look of in¬ 
quiry. 
“ Then if the last trump would not 
hurry you, I suppose it's of no use to ask 
you to hurry down cellar and bring up a 
pan of baking potatoes.” Janet’s voice 
had an accent of despair in it. 
“ Mebbe not, but,” kicking up his heels 
with a great show of haste, “ I’ll try to 
please you for once, Janet, without 
asking.” 
Dinner was nearly ready when Mrs. 
Thorn exclaimed in a flutter of excite¬ 
ment, “ He’s a-comin’ in as sure as fate. 
You run in an’ open up the parlor blinds, 
while I clip up stairs an’ get off this cali- 
ker dress.” 
Janet’s dress was a fresh gingham and 
perfectly appropriate to her work, so she 
met the stranger without embarrass¬ 
ment, and, after an introduction, ushered 
him into the parlor. He looked about 
him with a half smile as the young girl’s 
neat figure disappeared. 
“ I wonder if all farm house parlors 
are cut after the same pattern ?” he said 
to himself as his keen eyes roved about, 
taking in the prim table with its auto¬ 
graph and photograph albums and the 
large family Bible, the “ enlarged ” pic¬ 
ture of Mr. and Mrs. Thorn beaming 
down upon him from the papered wall, 
and the vases of forlorn dried and dyed 
grasses on a mantel shelf. Janet had 
tried to add a touch of grace to the stiff¬ 
ness of the room with a drape here and 
there, and had pleaded for lace curtains 
to cover the distressing stiffness of the 
plain green shades. Abel was perfectly 
willing to buy them in the next winter 
or summer which never came, so the 
green shades were still undraped, save 
with a promise. 
There was one tawdry oil painting, a 
work of doubtful art which had drifted 
into a country auction room, thence to 
Mrs. Thorn's parlor, the very pride and 
joy of her heart, and cheap and gaudy as 
it was, it furnished the one bit of cheer¬ 
ful color in the dreary room. 
“ Who is it, pa ?” Mrs. Thorn had come 
down clad in a faded black gown, her 
second best, and white apron, her collai 
pinned awry in her haste, and smoothing 
her locks with her hand as she came. 
“Sh-h-h. Don’t speak loud,” Abel re¬ 
plied in a loud whisper and holding up 
his long forefinger impressively, “ Go 
around on tiptoe children so he won’t 
mistrust nothin’. He’s offered me $5,000 
for the farm.” 
“Five thousand-” 
“Sh-h-h.” Abel evidently suspected 
his visitor of having unnaturally sharp 
ears. (To be continued.) 
Health 
and Comfort are 
Destroyed 
by the use of poor smoking tobacco. 
The one tobacco that has held its 
own through all the changes of 
time and against all competitors is 
Blackwell’s Bull Durham Smoking 
Tobacco. 
WHY? 
A Fact 
Against Time 
Fears Nothing 
A 
Great Record 
For You 
Good Advice 
Because it’s always pure, always 
the same, always the best. Such a 
record tells more than pages of 
“talk.’’ It’s just as good to-day 
as ever and it is the tobacco for you. 
If you smoke, you should smoke 
Bull Durham 
A trial is all we ask. 
BLACKWELL’S DURHAM 
TOBACCO CO., 
- DURHAM, N. C.- 
Unchanging 
Talk’s Cheap 
Kneelands 
Crystal 
Creamery 
uniy creamery 
with 
Glass Milk Cans 
and 
Steel Plate Water Tanks 
CREAM WITH OR WITHOUT ICE. 
Practicable, Durable, Simple, Perfect, Profitable. Non-rusting, 
Non-corrosive, no Leaking. Sediment removed by bottom skim¬ 
ming. No dipping or slopping of milk or cream. Glasgcans 
give more and better cream and butter. A perfect " ' 
Separator” for small dairies. Send for catalogues to 
Cm prices to^' Crystal Creamery Ce„ 
first purchaser. 44 Concord Street, Lansing, Mich. 
New Jersey Agricultural Experiment Station. 
James neilson, acting director. New Brunswich, N.J., Nov. 25>1§92« 
Messrs. Baugh and Sons Company, Philada., Pa. 
Dear Sirs : — In Bui 1 etin §9 0 f this Station the val¬ 
uation of Baugh's Raw Bone Meal, Sample No. 4§9§> 
page 35> ’is reported as $29.12 per ton. Owing to a 
clerical error 'in computation this reported valua¬ 
tion is $9.72 t>oo low. The correct valuation is 
$3§»§4 P er ton. 
Y*ours respectfully, 
Acting Director. 
DISG HARROW 
f#f# ffit«ff tttt ttft* 
“KEYSTONE” 1# 
# 
# 
# 
# 
# 
* 
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* 
Ball Bearings 
make light draft 
and don’t wear out. 
Double Levers 
adjust each gang, 
independently. The 
best for hillside or 
level. 
Square Shaft 
square hole discs 
square hole spools 
one piece, square 
hole washers. No 
loosening or turning 
on the shaft. 
Scrapers 
adjusted by drivers 
foot and rigid ornot 
as you wish. 
Pulverizes fall plowing, spring plowing, 
stubble, breaking. 
Useful spring, summer, fall. Often saves all 
plowing. Turns under manure, grain broad¬ 
casted, etc. Made 4-5-0-7-8 feet wide. Send 
for free book “THE REASON WHY.” 
KEYSTONE MFG. CO., 
STERLING, ILL. 
or ST. LOUIS. KANSAS CITY, 
COUNCIL BLUFFS, COLUMBUS, O. 
(Mention this paper.) 
Small interchangeable syrnp 
pans (connected by siphons) 
cleansing and storing, and a 
land led for 
CHAMPION EVAPORATE 
U For MAPLE, SORGHUM, CIDER, and FRUIT JELUES-Mk l 
Corrugated Pan over Firebox, doubling boiling capacity., 
Automatic. Regulator. The Champion is as great an 
improvement over the Cook Pan as the latter was over the old iron 
kettle, hang on a fence rail. Catalogues mailed free on application, 
THE G. H. GRIMM MFG. CO., Hudson, Ohio, Rutland, Vt., and Montreal, Quo. 
