SEPT 7 
602 
THE RUBAI. HEW-YORKEB. 
Ciiomij. 
UNCLE BOB AND HIS CHILDREN. 
S OMETIMES l feel like laughing at Uncle 
Bob, to see the way he manages or mis¬ 
manages his children. Sometimes I think he 
is a goose, and then again, when I see how 
much he loves them and they him, and how 
most of them trust him, I think he can’t be 
far wrong. I don’t live very far from Uncle 
Bob, and 1 have to see and hear some things, 
whether I want to or not. I will not under¬ 
take to tell how many children he’s got, but 
there must be somewhere from seven to 12. 
Most of them have pet names that fit about as 
well as if an elephant were nicknamed a snipe. 
There’s something a little crooked and queer 
about the oldest boy. He’s different from 
Uncle Bob and Aunt Bob and all the rest of 
the family. He has a voice like a fog-horn—I 
guess, although, living in Colorado, I never 
heard a fog-horn: but I’ve read up about it in 
the cyclopedia. Anyway, Uncle Bob calls 
this youngster “‘Sweet Note.” 
It is one of Uncle Bob’s ideas to give each 
one of his children something. Perhaps he’ll 
give one a colt, and another a calf, and an¬ 
other so many hills of beans. The other day 
I saw him give one of the little girls 55 cents 
for some cabbages he had sold from her row. 
“How’s this ?” said one of the hectoring 
hired men. “How’s this ? Here you are tak¬ 
ing money for cabbages you never planted, or 
irrigated, or plowed or hoed.” 
“'Well,” said the little thing, “I know I 
didn’t; but I brought the young plants to Pa 
and he set them out and gave me any row I’d 
a mind to choose, and I chose the best of 
them all, and they are mine and I’ve got the 
money—and so! ” 
The little thing has the money up in her 
box stowed away, and when somebody’s birth¬ 
day comes, or Christmas, or a circus, or she 
wants a ribbon for her Sunday hat, Little 
Cabbages, (I’ve forgotten her nickname) will 
out with her money and spend it with great 
delight, and, most likely, for somebody else or 
for some article of clothing, and she’ll do the 
business as circumspectly as many a woman. 
One day I spoke to Uncle Bob about it, and 
asked him if he wasn't afraid the youngsters 
would mis spend the money ? 
“Bles3 your soul 1” said he, “no. People 
have to be educated to handle money as well 
as to handle a hoe, or a horse or a sewing- 
machine.” 
Most of the children make Uncle Bob their 
banker. I heard one of the neighbor’s boys 
saying to one of Uncle Bob’s boys: 
“Catch me putting my money into father’s 
hands! He’d never let me have it when I 
wanted it.” It isn’t so with Uncle Bob. 
But Uncle Bob had a picnic with Sweet 
Note, that I guess rather discouraged him for 
a while. The boy wanted a certain black filly 
that was just coming three years old. She 
was a proud stepper and swift. The boy was, 
like most other farmers’ boys, capable of rec¬ 
ognizing the best animal on the place. Said 
Uncle Bob, after long consideration: “ Coal 
Dust is yours on these terms: I must be the 
judge of what work she shall do, and at what 
age you shall ride her, and how much. She 
shall never be sold except by my permission. 
If she is sold the purchase money shall be 
placed in tho bank there to accumulate for 
you until you are 21.” 
All this was agreed to; but, O my! what a 
change the ownership of that mare made in 
the boy. He was so proud of his new posses¬ 
sion that he got braggy. Then he grew al¬ 
most insolent to his father when the latter 
cautioned him not to ride her very far. 
“Look here. Pa,” said he, Do you think, 
for a minute, that I’d ride Coal Dust to death 
because she happened to be m ne?” 
“Not intentionally, but you might not use 
judgment and might very easly spoil her.” 
By and bye the boy got his heart set on a 
bicycle, and made offers to swap the mare 
for one. He carried the matter so high that 
Uncle Bob bought the mare at a small valua¬ 
tion which the boy put upon her—say, about 
half her true value. When the boy was tired 
of his toy you should have heard him beg 
But the father was firm, and I take notice he 
isn’t giving the boy any more spirited fillies. 
Lots of folks can’t stand prosperity. I re¬ 
member one spring I was helping Uncle Bob 
to plant potatoes, when up marches a boy 
about 10 years old and says he: “Pa, how 
many potatoes may I plant and hare for my 
own, if I’ll get the seed ?” 
“ All you’ll find seed for,” says the old man. 
No more was said. After sundown off posts 
that small boy to the trash-pile where some¬ 
body had dumped some sprouted potatoes. 
He pulled one sack out of the edge of the riv¬ 
er. Then he cut the potatoes as steadily as a 
judge. He gave me five cents to help him 
after chore time, in the dark. He dropped the 
potatoes and marked them and gave them a 
most all-sufficient hoeing. I believe he got 
five dollars, more or less, out of that happy 
thought. Pretty soon he says to his father, 
with his eye on a fine grade Holstein heifer— 
“ What’s she worth. Pa f” 
“ 01 about five dollars; ” said Uncle Bob. 
“May I have her for five dollars ?” 
“Yes.” 
“All right,” said the boy. “Keep the four 
dollars you’ve got of mine, and I’ll pay the 
rest some time.” 
Then he went to picking up bottles and old 
iron out of the trash and soon he had the 
other dollar. You should have seen that 
youngster skip when he had her paid for. 
“Perhaps I’ll have quite a herd by the time 
I’m of age,” said the boy. 
In four months’ time Uncle Bob offered the 
boy $10 for his heifer, and the boy just 
laughed at him. Take it all in all, I do be¬ 
lieve Uncle Bob and Aunt Bob have an amaz¬ 
ing faculty for interesting their children on 
the farm. The other day I heard that two of 
the children were forming a partnership and 
going into the hen business. o. h. 
MAGAZINE REVIEWS. 
H ARPER’S MAGAZINE for September 
has a long article by Theodore Child 
on American Artists at the Paris Exhibition. 
The fact is .noted that in ls89 America boasts 
an dlite of artists whose names are cited in 
company with the most illustratious, and w o 
can hold their own brilliantly among the great 
masters. The number of oil-paintings exhib¬ 
ited in the United States section is 335; black 
and white drawings, water-colors, etc., 127; 
wood-engravings 103; representing 252 artists. 
The most eminent of all the American artists 
resident in Europe, James Me Neil Whistler, 
exhibits his pictures in the English depart¬ 
ment. Reproductions are given of many of 
the most famous paint’ngs, and many others 
are very vividly described. James Lane Al¬ 
len gives “ Kentucky Fairs” a very realistic 
pen-picture of a local institution peculiar to 
that State. The first fair was held in 1816, and 
was instituted by a distinguished soldier and 
honored gentleman with a taste for agricul¬ 
ture and fine cattle, who announced that on a 
certain day in July he would hold on his farm 
a “Grand Cattle Show and Fair free for every¬ 
body.” This was a typical English cattle-show, 
and had little semblance to a fair. This was 
near Lexington. The following year another 
show of cattle was held similar to the first, and 
here was formed the first State Agricultural 
Society of Kentucky, which was the second in 
the United States. After holding two or three 
annual meetings this society disappeared, and 
but little if anything was done for the next 
20 years, when again revived, prizes were of¬ 
fered for essays helpful to the farmer, and 
some eminent citizen, generally the Governor, 
delivered an address. Previous to this time, 
no ladies had attended the fairs, and it was 
thought a bold thing when a woman and her 
friend came under the escort of a gentleman 
to witness the showing of her own fat cattle. 
From this time the character of the fair 
changed, until it became a great holiday 
week with all its attendant mirth 
and gaiety, its courtesy and genuine 
Southern hospitality. Since the war the fair 
has changed greatly, and is now more a 
horse-show than a cattle-show. “The Oldest 
and Smallest Sect in the World,” by Rev. 
Dr. Hurst, describes a small religious com¬ 
munity now numbering about 150 souls, 
which has existed for nearly 3,000 years in the 
small city of Nablus in northern Palestine. 
Theodore Child contributes a richly illustrat¬ 
ed article on “ Holy Moscow,” in which he de¬ 
scribes many notable sights and curious cus¬ 
toms, both holy and unholy. “ London 
Mock Parliaments” describes the Society of 
Codgers, a semi-political debating club. The 
article has numerous illustrations. Then 
there is a very improbable story, “ Joe Gil- 
fillan;” and “The Religious Monument in 
France;” an instalment of “ A Little Jour¬ 
ney in the World;” “Editor’s Drawer, etc.” 
“‘Jupiter Lights,” a very interesting serial by 
Miss Woolson, is concluded in this number. 
Harper Brothers, New York. 
tkrimts. 
A JERSEYMAN’S JOTTINGS. 
L AST week Axtell, the famous young trot¬ 
ting stallion, trotted a mile in 2:14, thus 
reducing his previous record by three-fourths 
of a second. The result was telegraphed all 
over the country and it was a very slow daily 
paper that did not print at least half a column 
about it. I doubt if the free advertising ob¬ 
tained by this telegraphing and publishing 
could be bought for $50,000. Who gets the 
benefit of it ? Well, the gamblers who “back 
time ” against Axtell or, vice versa, the 
crowds of people who go to see the horse trot, 
and the owners of Axtell or of other horses in 
his line of breeding, who are after big service 
fees. It’s a great business, this trotting horse 
raising. I don’t care to go into it; I am too 
slow; my horses would get ahead of me. The 
influence of the business is bad. Some farm¬ 
ers think they see a quick cut to fortune in 
breeding fast colts. It has always occurred 
to me that a man in order to raise trotters 
has to give up farming proper and be¬ 
come a regular horse jockey. If a man wants 
to do that, all right; but don’t let him try to 
be a farmer and a fast horse breeder in the 
same year. Either the horse will rush the 
farm work so fast that it will fly all apart, or 
the work will so hamper the horse that he 
will be good for nothing. 
Horse Racing is the favorite sport of thous¬ 
ands of Americans. What is there so demor¬ 
alizing about it? The dullest man cannot 
help admiring the courage and almost human 
intelligence displayed by the first-class trot¬ 
ting or running horse. In the performance of 
the animal itself, there is everything to ad¬ 
mire and nothing to condemn. Where then 
does the harm come in? Why are thoughtful 
religious people so universally opposed to horse 
racing? The railroad upon which I travel 
when I go to the city runs to one of the fash¬ 
ionable race-courses. Every night I come 
home from the city I pass through a crowd of 
men returning from tho races. A look at the 
crowd will satisfy anybody there that is some 
thing absolutely soul-destroying at the raco 
track. WhatfacesI Greed, craft, despair, heart¬ 
less exultation are all there. It is the most des¬ 
perate, absolutely demoralizing crowd that 
one can imagine. The professional gambler 
with his cold, cruel face, walks with the to¬ 
tally depraved “ tough.” We teel instinct¬ 
ively that they are both armed ready to com¬ 
mit murder on the smallest provocation. Hero 
is the boy learning lessons in vice and crime, 
that he never can rub out of his mind. Here is 
the trusted clerk desperate and haggard. He 
has lost the money he took without per¬ 
mission from his employer. 
It is only a matter of days and hours now 
before his crime must be made known, and 
his good name blasted forever. And so the 
crowd rushes by to the ferry, some are curs¬ 
ing frightfully, others shout with glee, others 
rush past with the silence of desperation. 
Whenever I pass that crowd the utter wretch¬ 
edness and cursedness of the whole thing 
come so strongly upon me that I feel that if I 
had a son who had been drawn into that fear¬ 
ful whirlpool, I should be tempted to pray 
that he might die before he reached the end of 
his course. I am not speaking of the rich peo¬ 
ple who enjoy the sport safely, never losing 
enough to render them desperate. They per¬ 
haps feel that they may safely enjoy the 
races, though I cannot understood how any 
fountain that pours out such a stream as 
that I have often spoken of, can help soiling 
all who come near it. Racing without gam¬ 
bling seems impossible. Those who take up 
the handling or driving of trotters must ex¬ 
pect two things:—1. The money they obtain 
is essentially gambler’s money. The trotter 
creates no property. He merely facilitates 
the passage of money, in the form of bets, 
from one man to another. 2. The racing 
horse practically creates a place for gamblers 
and other vicious characters to ply their de¬ 
moralizing games. 
Some farmers may like to be in such a busi¬ 
ness. For my part, I prefer something a little 
more in the line w th my ideas of religion, 
even if it is a little slower. 
A walking record is something I would 
like to see worked up. I would like to go to 
see the horse that can break the walking 
record. Why not do away with trotting at 
our fairs and encourage fast walking matches 
instead. The farmer’s pace is the walk. If 
one horse can be so bred or trained that he can 
walk a mile in one minute less time than 
another horse can, that increased speed is 
worth money. Some of the breeders of heavy 
draft horses ought to start this matter. I 
can’t think of any way in which they can ob¬ 
tain so much fame and business. The trotting 
and running horse folks have everything their 
own way in the matter of records. For one 
good farmer that is interested in knowing 
that Axtell trotted in 2:14, there would be 
five glad to know that Bob and Frank hauled 
3,000 pounds a mile in 10 minutes at a fair 
walk. The preeders of Shire horses claim 
that their animals are superior walkers. Let 
them come to the front with walking records 
—with or without loads. Let the thing be 
persistently followed up and they would soon 
see a great interest taken in it, and the result 
would be in every way healthful. Our fair 
managers ought to take this matter in hand. 
It is well worth pushing. 
A corn-cutter.—The Rural prints a note 
from a man who made a cutter out of a hoe. 
I have tried it and like it well. A sickle is a 
poor thing to cut corn with; you can’t strike 
or cut in the right direction. Most of the 
cutters sold have the same fault. This idea 
of tne hoe ought to give manufacturers a hint 
about a new tool for this work. The hoe 
must be ground sharp; by the way, as far as 
that goes, hoes should be sharp all the time 
anyway. 
JSUmtising. 
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Practical Hints 
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Also Manufacturers of Complete Fertilizer. 
WM DAVIHON & CO., Baltimore, Md, 
Wf ANTED—To correspond with a party who 
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V. ChTOVEY, Wartburg, Morgan Co., Tenn. 
For a Disordered Liver try Beecham’s Pii.i.s, 
General Advertising Bates of 
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