u>Vf\.VA\ A\\mvM\\m\\\iWu\\\ AAV. 
y'j:< 
S-y.S&H 
■ '/.?■ 
mm. 
thick. After this, lie 
folded an old piece of 
hop-sacking, and put, it, 
two thicknesses, over 
them. That was no way for a boy to do. 
Whatever is worth doing at all is worth fin¬ 
ishing. You had better not say burdocks 
to me.” 
ale, you know.” 
Sally didn’t 
know, but she 
nodded just the 
same, and John¬ 
ny went on : — 
“Caustic lime, 
that is stone lime, 
that has just been 
burned, has no 
carbonic acid, be¬ 
cause this has all 
been driven out, 
by the heat. If 
WC put it in the 
bottom of the 
leach, when the 
lye drains down 
through it, the 
lime withdraws 
the carbonic acid 
from the potash, 
because it has a 
stronger affinity 
for it than the pot¬ 
ash has. But if 
you use the car¬ 
bonate of lime it 
cannot act in this 
manner, for it has 
all the carbonic 
acid it can hold 
before you put it 
in the leach.” 
“1 guess what, 
you say is true,” 
remarked his sis¬ 
ter. "You re¬ 
in e m b e r last 
Spring, when I 
set up the leach 
myself, and used 
that old lime, the 
lye wouldn’t 
make soap; the 
grease all floated 
on the top, and I 
had ail my troub¬ 
le for nothing. If 
But this was not all. When Mr. Vitral 
found that Johnny was trying to study 
chemistry without any one to help him he 
said he would charge him nothing for (he 
bottles. 
“ How do you manage to pulverize things ?” 
asked he. 
“I pound them with a hammer on the 
door-step,” said Johnny. 
“ That is a very poor way,” answered the 
druggist; “you must lot me help you a 
little,” and he gave him a small mortar, 
about two inches across inside, with a pestle 
as smooth as if it had been turned in a lathe. 
“Here are some tobacco pipes and corks 
also, ’ said he; “ ii you have studied your 
chemistry yon will know what to do with 
them.” 
“ Yes, I know,” replied Johnny, and 
thanking Mr. Vitral very gratefully, he 
started back with the chemicals and the 
pipes packed in his dinner basket; but the 
corks and the mortar and pestle he carried 
in his pocket. 
Now, light here, you must notice how 
Johnny’s hopes were more than fulfilled. 
This is always so when people are not afraid 
to work, and are willing to do the very best 
they can. To be sure the reward does not 
often come as soon as it did to him, but it 
always does come some time or other. It 
has never failed with anybody, not even 
once since the world began. 
It was bedtime when Johnny reached 
home. He put the basket safely away on a 
shelf, for he knew that one must always be 
very careful with chemicals. As to the mor¬ 
tar and pesilc, they were sheer good luck. 
They would be so handy, and, besides, they 
were worth a dollar and a half. Late in the 
evening, when his mother went to see if lie 
ltntfiomtl. 
HOW JOHNNY STUDIED SCIENCE. 
BY UNCLE OATSTRAW. 
[Continued from page 49.] 
The morning after his experiment with 
the saleratus and vinegar, Johnny was up 
early, and away out in the field behind the 
barn, searching it over very carefully. What 
was lie doing that for? We shall sec. 
After breakfast he went to his father and 
said, 
“ Don’t you remember you promised to 
pay me five cents apiece for all the burdocks 
I would dig up in the lot behind the barn ?” 
“ Of course I do,” was the answer; “ it 
was covered up in his cot, she found that 
Johnny had taken the mortar and pestle to 
bed willi him. 
When school was over, lie went home 
without loitering, for, like all other folks, lie 
commonly kept out of mischief when he 
had any thing else to do, and now be had 
quite a piece of work on hand. He had 
said to Sally in the morning, with, a very 
wise look, that making soft soap was a 
“chemical operation. - ’ Accordingly, she 
toid him that, when they put up the leach in 
the afternoon ho should boss the job. You 
see that as soon as Johnny began to make 
himself useful his sister began to like him 
better. This is the way with sisters gen¬ 
erally. 
When the leacli-tub 
was ready, Johnny r _- — 
carefully piled some = — ' • • 
sticks two or three s-r—-- 
inches thick in the hot- HH -7 
tom, and then laid 
straw on the sticks,very V ..-i 
smooth and close, and 
pher. “ I suppose you’ll be asking next why 
the simple potash, which is named caustic 
potash, will make soap, while the carbonate 
of potash will not. This is why : Every kind 
of grease, no matter where we get it from, 
is composed of certain acids called fatty 
acids, and a substance known us glycerine. 
These acids are united with the glycerine, 
just as the carbonic acid is united with 
the potash in the carbonate we liave just 
been talking about. The caustic potash lias 
Johnny’s face grew very long at this, but 
be persevered. “ I will say burdocks,” said 
he, “ for I mean it this time ; will you give 
me live cents for each one now ?” 
“Yes,” replied the old gentleman; “but 
you must not leave a single one.” 
“ All right,” cried Johnny, in high feather. 
He knew now how he would manage to get- 
the chemicals. For, you see, lie had done a 
very shrewd thing. When he went out in 
the morning he counted the burdocks, and 
found that there were just eighteen of them, 
At five cents each this would amount to 
ninety cents. But he had done more than 
thi3. He had dug up one of the burdocks, 
and by his reckoning it, took about half an 
hour. It required so long because lie had 
to dig with a hoe, fur lie was not strong 
enough to use a pick or a crowbar like a 
man. “ I can,” said he, " dig up one every 
morning before I go to school, and two at 
night after 1 come back, and 1 shall fiuisli 
the job in a week.” This was business-like, 
and this way of calculating everything be¬ 
forehand was one reason why Johnny suc¬ 
ceeded in his undertakings. It is the reason 
also why some men get, to be rich and hon¬ 
ored, while others who do not consider how 
they w ill proceed from the beginning clear 
through to the cud, never amount to any¬ 
thing. 
You may he sure that JoiiNNy kept his 
resolution about, the burdocks, and in just a 
week he had them all dug up by the roots 
and laid in a heap by the pig-pen. His 
father eouiited them, and paid him—two 
twenty-five cchL stamps and four lens—in 
all just niuety cents. The same evening, 
Johnny went to the village, two miles dis¬ 
tant, to get the chemicals from tlifidniuprisLa 
the straw. He did this 
because the straw is to jS Hg 
woodshed. " Not that” 
1ms bean slaked a long 
time. Lelus take.some 
store lime, and slake it 
and when the lime had 1 ! ill 11 
crumbled to pieces, he 
put it into the leach 
with a shovel. 
“ You see,” said he, 
“when you slake lime 
with water, nine pounds of water unite with 
twenty-eight pounds of lime, and if you 
then leave it exposed to the air, this unites 
with twenty-two pounds of carbonic acid. 
It is tins carbonic acid that plays the mis¬ 
chief when you put old lime in the bottom 
of a leach. You leach the ashes to get the 
potash from them, but this potash in the 
ashes is itself combined with carbonic acid, 
and makes what the chemists call a carbon¬ 
ate of potash. V hen this acid combines 
with any substance like potash or soda the 
new substance is 
oolloil n A/I kMil _ 
.TOIINNY L»UIO 1‘A.UlXC A'1117 LKACH. 
c with it much greater affinity for the fully acids prodl 
if you than the glycerine has, and so it drives out 5. 1 
unites the glycerine, and unites with these acids to cause 
i acid, form the compound which we term soap, again 
e mis- The carbonate of potash will not do this, and i 
lottotu because it has a stronger affinity for the car- are p 
;ot the bonic acid it has already, than for the fatty ccedi 
in the acids of the greases” then, 
i acid, “Now let us fill up the leach with wet propt 
arbon- ashes, and pack them tij-jungainst the sides tunic 
nbincs of the tub, so that all tfiPwa ter will have to soum 
la the soak through the ashes instead of partly 0. ’ 
in v j j u if u u 
wUhofi't losing 'its GRAND?APA TO HIS LITTLE GRANDCHILDREN-(See Page 83.) 
carbonic acid, I suppose I had what you call leaking between the ashes and the sides, questions until 
a solution of carbonate of potash instead of This will cause the potash to be more com- 01 ,)0oks > by < 
one of pure potash.” pletely dissolved out, and we shall have 5 £, U ? 
“ Exactly,” answered the young philoso- strong ley, and your soap will be made easy.” office has Mav 
Pretty soon, about an hour before sunset, 
the leach was finished. Then Johnny and 
his sister had a long talk about carbonic 
acid, and a very interesting little experiment 
with it. But 1 shall have to tell of this an¬ 
other time.—[To be continued. 
- +++ -- 
EDUCATIONAL NOTES. 
Eugene Timeviunu’s queries. 
Eugene Timeuman, Steuben Co., N. Y., 
asks six questions, and 
-—-——- requests scholars to nn- 
:jU||;-l,,|!||! swer the same. I will 
| |l|j fill 1 1 1 answer with brevity: 
||]l| ij|| j|ij 1. “What is dew?” 
Ijljj V j | | Dew is the moisture of 
I lf| I |l|i the air condensed by 
ill | I I coining in contact with 
I II bodies colder than 
■ I itself. 
i 2. “ Why is there no 
dew on a dull, cloudy 
| | [ night?” Because the 
M I clouds arrest the radia- 
| tion of heat from the 
1 I earth, and (as the heat 
pSffljira ij cannot freely escape) 
jUrlWilll; the surface is not sufll- 
I | cicnily cooled down to 
■T'j I II | 1 chill the vapor of the 
|lj 11|| I I ill air into dew. 
V I I 111 8. Why is there no 
"Aj || j j 11 1 I dew on a windy night?” 
;J|| H j j ; J Becuiisc the wind ovup- 
Twi' ■! !' I I 1 orates the moisture as 
V liljjjjjjj fast as it is deposited. 
i U.ii of the striugsetsla 
j motion the sound¬ 
waves of the air, and 
produces musical notes. 
5. “ What is the cause of echo?” The 
cause is similar to a wave of water striking 
against a smooth surface; it la turned back, 
and waves moving in an opposite direction 
are produced. We hear first the sound pro¬ 
ceeding directly from the sonorous body; 
then, if the sound-wave strikes against a 
proper surface, at a suitable distance, it is 
turned back, and we hear a repetition of the 
sound. This we call an echo. 
0. " Why do not birds fall down in sleep¬ 
ing on their 
perch ? ” Their 
loot act as air- 
pumps, exclud¬ 
ing the air be¬ 
tween them and 
the surface with 
which they are in 
contact; and the 
atmospheric pres¬ 
sure keeps them 
from falling.— 
School Boy,. 
Windsor, Shelby 
Co,, 111, 
How lo Lc n r u 
Jtookkeepiug. 
A Cincinnati, 
O., correspondent 
asks: — “ What 
course of study 
should a young 
farmer, who has 
no knowledge of 
bookkeeping pur¬ 
sue, to be able to 
keep farm ac¬ 
counts properly?” 
The advice we 
give is what we 
practiced when a 
y o u u g farmer, 
a n d with no 
knowledge of 
bookkeeping. We 
b ought Pres¬ 
ton’s Bookkeep¬ 
ing ,(Mayhew’s, 
or Bryant & 
Stratton’s are 
improved works,) 
and studied it 
sufficiently to get 
the principle, 
then opened a set 
ofbooksand went 
to bookkeeping 
on our own ac¬ 
count. Of course 
we made m i s - 
takes; but when 
we got into a tight 
place, wc went to 
some good book- 
(See Page 83.) keeper in town, 
and asked him 
questions until wc learned how to keep a set 
of books, by double entry, as well ns most 
of the graduates of commercial colleges. 
You can do the same thing. The Rural 
office has Mayhew’s Bookkeeping for sale. 
TENNYSON’S SONGS. 
[The following Songs, from " The Window, or ttio 
Sonya of the Wrens.” by Alfred Tennyson, will 
be pronounced exquisite, charming, delicious, etc., 
by many a reader of the Rural . J 
I. 
Vine, vino, and eglantine, 
Clasp her window, trail, and twine! 
Rose, rose, and clematis, 
Trail and twinu and clasp and kiss, 
Kiss, kiss; and make her a bower 
All of ttowers, and drop me a flower, 
Drop me a flower. 
Vino, vino, and eylatuino, 
Cannot a flower, a flower bo mine / 
Rose, rose, and clematis, 
Drop me a flower, a flower, to ktxs, 
Kiss, kiss—and out Of her bower, 
All of flowers, a flower, a flower, 
Dropt, a flower. 
Where is another sweet as my sweet. 
Fine of the fine, and shy of the shy! 
Fino little hands, flue little feet, 
Dewy blue eye. 
Shall I write to her? shall I ru? 
Ask her to marry mo by-and-by ? 
Somebody said that she'd say no. 
Somebody knows that she'll say ay ! 
Ay or no, If asked to her face? 
Ay or no, from shy of the shy, 
So, little letter, apace, apace, 
Fly! 
Fly to the light in the valley below. 
Toll my wish to her dewy blue eye. 
Somebody said that she’d say no; 
Somebody knows that she’ll say ay 
Sun comes, moon comes, 
Time slips away, 
Sun sets, moon sets. 
Love, llx a day. 
“A your bonce, a year hence,” 
“We shall both be gray.” 
“A month hence, a month hence,” 
‘‘Far, far away.” 
“A week hence, a week bonce,” 
“ Ah, tin* long delay!” 
“Walt a little, watt a little, 
You shall Ux a day.” 
“To-morrow, love, to-morrow, 
And that’s an age away." 
Blaze upon her window, sun, 
And honor all the day. 
op 
Hortcs for Mimtliets. 
AGNES BUBMANN; 
O :Fl, HE A.3ST3D SHE. 
Translated from the Norwegian of Chrlstof Janson, 
for Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
CHAPTER V. 
Renewed Warfare. — Nature — Peace. 
[Continued from page (Id, last No.] 
The Student rejoiced that he had won, at 
least in some degree; but now be felt that 
lie was deceived. He had half thought that 
Agnes would have sought him, to question 
and confide in him; lie relied on the tears 
he had seen—on that “ Forgive me" she had 
uttered—but all in vain ; be no longer met 
her on llie highway, and yet knew she was 
at home, and that, she went out every day. 
He understood how this was to be accounted 
for, and he was very sad. Had she no more 
heart than to bo able to find repose in emp¬ 
tiness ? Would she not see him any more? 
But why did this make him sad ? He could 
leave her to her fate; had he not written 
to his friend that lie had only tried an ex¬ 
periment? Why, then, did he put away his 
books before be was quite ready, when the 
time-piece showed the hour at which Agnes 
generally went out? Why did he look 
around when he was out, wondering why 
she was no more to be seen? Was it possi¬ 
ble that the sympathy which he had felt for 
this innocent child-nature, and of which he 
had written to his friend, was deeper than 
he would acknowledge to himself? Could 
it be possible that Agnes, as she now was, 
had yet retained any of this sympathy ? 
There were a few spots near the village 
which the Student preferred toothers. One 
evening, the weather being mild and fine, 
he was on his way to one of these in order 
once more to see its beauty before the au¬ 
tumn had entirely deprived the trees of their 
foliage. He ascended a bight from which 
a glimpse of Uic sea was visible. Suddenly 
he heard a rustling in the diy grass, and 
turning, saw Agnes with her parasol. He 
went, towards her; perceiving him, she 
blushed, and bent her head. He noticed 
this, and going up to her, said, looking 
straight in her face, “ Have I frightened you, 
Miss Agnes?” 
“Frightened me?” she answered, trying 
to laugh. 
“ Yes! you perhaps think that I have not 
noticed how you have avoided me. Don’t 
think that 1 cannot read in the expression 
of your face the truth of what I now say? 
You do not like my company; you feel ill 
at ease and troubled, and imagine that I 
treat you as a child, and wish to play the 
schoolmaster. If I have ever done so, I am 
heartily sorry, and we can part forever; it 
will be hard for me to do that, because 1 
feel particularly drawn to you, as a weary 
traveler to a clear fountain. But you may 
now resume your walks unmolested. I will 
talk no more to you. I am sorry you did 
not let me know that this was your wish 
sooner, and then I would not liave troubled 
you so olten.” 
