Ileabwg for tjjc fotntg. 
THE HUMBLE BEE. 
R. W. EMERSON. 
Insect lover of tlie bur, 
Joy of thy dominion ! 
Sailor of the atmosphere, 
Swimmer through the waves of air, 
Voya^rar of llpUt aiul uoon, 
Epicurean of J uno. 
AV'ait, I pray thee, till I come 
Within earshot of thy hum— 
All without, its martyrdom. 
When the south wind in May days. 
With a net of shining' haze 
Silvers the horizon wall; 
And, with softness touching all, 
Tints the human countenance 
With a color of romance; 
And inf using subtle heats 
Turns the sod to violets— 
Thou in sunuy solitudes, 
Rover of thn underwoods, 
The green silence dost displace 
With thy mellow breezy bass. 
Hot midsummer's petted crone. 
Sweet to me thy drowsy tune, 
Filling of countless sunny hours. 
Hong days, and solid bank of flowers, 
Of Gulfs of sweetness without bound. 
In Indian wildernesses found; 
Of Syrian peace, immortal leisure, 
Firmest cheer and bird-like pleasure. 
Aught unsavory or unclean 
Hath my insect never seen, 
But violets and bilberry bells, 
Maple sap and daffodils, 
Clover, catcllfly, adder’s tongue. 
And briar roses dwell among: 
All beside was unknown waste. 
All was pictured as he passed. 
■-♦ ♦♦- 
AN ALLEGORY. 
BY M. A. 0. 
Down among the blue-grass meadows and wav¬ 
ing cornfields of old Kentucky J first saw the 
light. At that time when the early frost first tints 
the leaves all crimson, golden and brown—when 
the cricket underneath the door-stone slugs Ills 
melancholy song, and the old farmers say one to 
another, •• cool days for September," My advent 
into the world was In exact keeping with Topsy’s 
Idea of originality; 1 was not born, "I growed.’’ 
Without, father or mother, the great mother of all 
looked with compassion on my Impotent condition, 
and wrapped a lleecy snow-wlilte blanket - about 
me, and 1 was rocked to sleep in the great, cradle 
of the universe, and slept for months. I awoke 
with the realization that a great, change was going 
ou about me. 1 had outgrown my first feebleness, 
and tiie spotless cloak of Infancy was exchanged 
fora dress or most imperial green. As the days 
sped by I grew In strength, and the rich, variable 
luster of my dress became the admiration of all. 
In ltssoft, low rustic, the farmer thought he heard 
sweet music. 
But a rapid change took place. The torrid sum¬ 
mer sun looked fiercely down upon me until my 
dress partook of the golden hue of that great lumi¬ 
nary, when I stood forth like that sun himself, in 
pure, pale gold. Now more than ever before was 
my beauty bespoken by men. The uprightness of 
my bearing, the graceful yet modest pulse of my 
head, and each little movement that I made, were 
objects for their admiration. 
Thus passed those balmy, blissful days, which 
wore by far or too short duration, for even while 
men bespoke my many cliarms, t he grasping greed 
of t.helr nature coveted my richness. Anon came 
a day of great confusion. Men went hurrying 
here and there, their shouts mingling with the 
tread of horses, and t he clatter and clash of ma¬ 
chinery, and ere long cruel irons forever separated 
me from that kind foster-mother, from whose bo¬ 
som T had drawn the nourishment that supported 
and strengthened me, until I attained my toll size. 
A new phase of;ilfe was before me. Helpless and 
prostrate 1 lay beneath the scorching rays of an 
August sun, when the strong amis or a man gath¬ 
ered me for a moment In a Close embrace, while he 
bound me to others or my kind. We were then 
formed Into companies and left standing on the 
field where we were slain. A couple of days later 
the hard-handed disciples of Ceres In the most un- 
courteous manner thrust our little company Into 
rude wagons, and conveyed us to a homely build¬ 
ing built, of rough-hewn Umbers and unplaned 
boards. 
My stay here proved to be only the first stage 
of my bondage among mankind. The days passed 
until they numbered a month, and, only the patter 
of the raindrops on the roof arid the shriek or the 
night-owl broke the monotony of my daily life. 
Then carne another change. Human handsearrled 
me Into the very jaws of a riotous, monster who 
speedily disrobed me of my bright yellow dress, 
and I was cast aside arrayed only In a scanty 
covering of an unostentatious auburn color. My 
captors next sent me to a distant city, where with¬ 
out ceremony I was hust led on hoard a noble 
steamer. 'There were no parting handshakes, no 
good-byes, such demonstrations are not for my 
kind. Soon the bell rang out the final warning 
“ all aboard" and we moved away from the wharf, 
and up the broad river, whose banks ou either side 
presented an ever changing panorama of nature. 
We soon passed within the shadows of a flourish¬ 
ing town, and anchored beside a huge stone struc¬ 
ture. A sound came from within lllce the dull, 
low, rumble of distant thunder, which Increased 
to a deafening roar as I passed over the threshold. 
There I realized my utter helplessness. 1 was 
subjected to excruciating torture, and brought In 
contact with base material hard as the nether 
millstone. I was beaten and bruised until my 
heart was crushed within me and my whole nature 
changed. From this rack of torture I came forth 
THE RURAL 
NEW-YORKER 
JULY 5 
clothed In pure white, and prepared for my final 
journey to the great metropolis. 
Once on board the cars, we sped across the coun¬ 
try like the shadow of a cloud, and my destina¬ 
tion was soon reached. Here I was removed to a 
department where various apparatus for trans¬ 
figuration were arranged, and heie I met my ap¬ 
pointed fate. By prolonged mingling with mate¬ 
rials.. heretofore unknown to me, iny whole struct¬ 
ure became changed. My particles were united 
into one plastic body. In which condition I was 
thrust into a fiery furnace. But. the fervent heat, 
Instead of proving my destruction as I had ex¬ 
pected, tended ouly to increase my proportions, 
and to perfect my complexion. 
The hour of my deliverance arrived. 1 now was 
clothed In a hard, shell-llke. brown dress, and 
through my whole being pervaded a most exquisite 
perfume, which seemed to attract a little, hungry 
newsboy, who bought me of my master for a 
penny. To satisfy his hunger was the sole reason 
for which I had suffered so many transformations, 
been through the hands of so many different peo¬ 
ple, and traveled hundreds of miles—It was the ob¬ 
ject of my life. Tlius ends the career of a kernel 
of wheat, 
-♦- 
A WONDERFUL PET. 
You have heard of wonderful dogs and horses 
by the score, hut l fancy you have not often heard 
of a pet elephant. In India, where elephants are 
numerous, they are employed in different kinds of 
service, and I will now toll you a true story of one 
who was a pet. 
Old Soup (for that was his curious name) was 
born more than a hundred years ago, and he lived 
about two yearn since on the banka of the river 
Ganges, near the city of Cawnpore. The story of 
his life would be a very Interesting one, if he could 
only tell It; hut, you see, he has outlived all his 
early (rlends, and so there Is no one to tell It for 
him. 
When Old Soup (or tioupramany, as the natives 
called him ) was young, he. was trained for war; 
and used to go out fighting and hunting with Ills 
black masters, and many a savage battle did he 
have with the hard-skinned, one-tusked rhinoceros. 
Well, old Soup was one day working with a 
number of other elephants and some soldiers In 
loading a ship with bags or rice. Major Daly was 
the olllcer In charge of the soldiers, and Old Soup 
and the other elephants belonged to him. This 
was Just about the time of Old Soup’s hundredth 
birthday, and as the elephants, one by one, 
marched up to the ship’s side and delivered their 
bags of rice, Major Daiy’s little hoy and glri stood 
watching the old fellows ur their work. 
What was the reason 1 cannot say—whether It 
was the heat of the sun, or the hardness of the 
work, It is Impossible for me to tell—but all at 
once one of tlie elephants began to throw his hags 
of nee Into the river, and the major soon saw that 
the animal had gone mud. 
The mad elephant, having killed his keeper, 
turned and ran towards the majors children, who 
were hurrying with their uursos to get lu-doors. 
How they would have fared If they had been left 
to themselves I cannot say; but old Soup was 
there, and when he saw the mad elephant chasing 
the major s children, he dashed in between them 
and fought tlie mad creature until he laid him 
dying on the ground. 
It was a terrible fight. It lasted for an hour and 
a half; and t hough old Soup was conqueror In the 
end, he had many wounds to remind him of the 
struggle. Ills ears were badly torn, and his head 
bruised, and one of his tusks was broken off short; 
but lie saved the fives of hls master’s children, aijd 
I am not surprised that they made him a pet after 
that. 
But he became something more than a pet: he 
became a nurse as well, and orten would he take 
the children out by the hour together; and the 
major said, over and over again, that he would far 
rather trust hla children with old Soup than with 
any number of Hindoo nurses. He became quite a 
fisherman, too, and might often be seen on the 
banks of the Gauges helping his little friends to 
catch the golden tench which abound In that river. 
One of the boys would bait the hook for him and 
take off the fish, but he would hold tlie fishing-rod 
with the Up of his trunk, and would always know 
when he had a bite, and would land the fish as 
well as any one.— Children's Magazine. 
THE HORTICULTURAL CLUB. 
“ Dolly Dutton” Sweet Corn. 
I have sent, a package of sweet corn of the 
above new variety to each member of the club 
whose name and address 1 have on my list. It. Is 
said to be the earliest sweet corn ever introduced. 
It is a very dwarf growing sort, the stalks reaching 
a bight of from three to four leet. 'The ears are 
small, averaging from four to five Inches; the ker¬ 
nels are or medium size, tender, very sweet and 
delicious, it ripens from seven to ten days earlier 
than the Karly Minnesota. Plant it soon after 
you receive it, one kernel In each hill, and the 
hilts one by two and one-halt feet apart. Give It 
the best of care and cultlvaUon, and be sure you 
save some for seed for next year. I shall be pleased 
to receive reports of how you planted it, and how 
your gardens are prospering. New members can 
join at any time. Uncle Mark. 
-- 
WHAT SHE THINKS OF THE CLUB. 
Dear Rural:— With many wishes for your suc¬ 
cess among young and old, I think this Children's 
Club is a good thing, and will help bot h the little 
ones and you. 1 send the names or my two boys 
and a sister, one only six years old. They desire 
to Join the Horticultural club, and I hope to make 
farmers of them—to make them love as well as 
live by the farm. Ouly a few months from the 
city, farm life has many surprises, and I hope It 
will always charm as now. Mrs. M. S. Miller, 
Norfolk Co., Va. 
LETTERS FROM BOYS AND GIRLS. 
Uncle Mark :—I see In the last number of the 
Rural, that Uncle 'True has given up his purposed 
voyage. I have spent many an Idle minute in 
Imaginary voyages, and find It quite pleasant. The 
ouly book I need Is Eclectic Geography No. »; thus 
I make that branch of study very interesting, 
which Is by many considered dull. I am vet y rond 
of vegetables, but care but little for flowers. I 
think a rich source of pleasure and profit for the 
cousins, would be to have a swaftn of bees. Pro¬ 
cure, ir possible, Italians, In a good movable frame 
hive, and never handle them without smoke, 
which makes them harmless. If you have no 
smoker, twist a roll of cotton rags an Inch thick, 
fight one end and hold uear the entrance, and 
blow the smoke Into the hive for a moment or so 
until they set up a peculiar hum, then wait a mo¬ 
ment and blow again; they are now ready to 
handle. It any elevate their sting, give them 
some smoke. Respectfully yours, 
Pickaway Co., Ohio. Allen Lewis. 
The Little Carpenter. 
Of course all the cousins know what a bee Is, 
but I don’t koow whether they have all noticed 
tlie wonderful home of the carpenter-bee. The 
carpenter-bee Is rather pretty and has a sort of 
auger with which It, bores in wood. Its house is 
quite a wonder, the doorw ay Is round. Just the 
size of the bee's body and opens Into a long pas¬ 
sage from which smaller openings lead Into the 
cells. In these cells the eggs are laid. Along with 
the eggs are put a number of spiders, on which 
the young bee lives till It la large enough to come 
out. Before the young bees are full grown the 
old bee gets some clay with which she fastens up 
the doorway and then leaves the young bees to 
make their own way out. Edith H. Taplin. 
Bergen Co., N. J, 
[1 am Inclined to doubt the carnivorous uature 
which Edith attributes to tills bee. The lame 
feed upon pollen or bee-bread the same as the 
larva: of other bees.j u. m. 
Dear Uncle Mark:—I would like to belong to 
the Horticultural Club. I love flowers and like to 
take care of them. I have some of my own. 
Mamma has some very nice plants, grown from seed 
sent by the Rural. My brothers have land every 
yea i' to grow crops for pocket money. They raise 
pop corn, potatoes and beans. I will ask them to 
Join the Club and toll you how much they make. 
1 can catch the horses, ride the colts and drive the 
milk to the factory. 1 have a little pet kitten, and 
I am eleven years old. Please give my love to 
Uncle True and the Editor. I am going to the lot 
to pick potato bugs now. Your affectionate niece, 
Oneida C'o., N. Y. Alice Sparrow. 
[The Editor and Encle True thank Alice for her 
love and send her their affection In return.] 
Deak Uncle M ark :—We have taken the Rural 
only this year. We have been living In the coun¬ 
try only a few mouths, und have not had oppor¬ 
tunity to have much of a flower garden. This fall 
we hope to have a flower garden. Unfortunately, 
the moles have destroyed most of our Rural flower 
seeds. We hope the loss will teach us the lesson 
to be more careful, our lovely yellow Jasmine, 
low and tall Ivy grow in wild profusion, and Lave 
been excelled but by Tew garden flowers. I would 
have been very glad to have been a recipient of 
your new radish seed. I would like to join your 
traveling party also : or has It been abandoned? 
Norfolk Go., Va. Helen J. Wilson. 
Dear Uncle M ark an n Cousins:— I want to Join 
your Horticultural Club, If you will accept me. I 
like the Rural, oh, ever so much, and especially 
the lettere from my dear cousins. I read of their 
earnings, which Induces me to tell that I, a twelve- 
year-old school girl, with only two years’ expe¬ 
rience in farm fife, have sold $ii worth of chick¬ 
ens. 1 thought I did pretty well, but perhaps the 
cousins will laugh at such a small sale after read¬ 
ing Robert llarhlson’s letter. My garden Is doing 
nicely, and my watermelons thrive well under the 
directions given In the Rural. I like Miss Jack’s 
letters, and would like to hear again from Miss 
Blair. Frankie M. Brooks. 
Dane Co., Wls. _ 
Dear Uncle Mark :— I am a little girl, ten years 
old. I go to the academy, where 1 read In the fifth 
reader and study arithmetic, and Colton’s geog¬ 
raphy, grammar, spelling, writing and drawing. 
1 have a little sister six years old. We have a 
flower bed this year, ten feet long and four feet 
wide, Tided with Pansies, Verbenas, Plilox, Pe¬ 
tunias and a number or other plants, with some or 
tiie Rural seeds. 1 am sorry that 1 am too late 
tor the package of radish seeds. Please enter my 
name and my slater’s on your Horticultural Club. 
Oswego Co., N, Y. Ettik Robbins. 
Dear Uncle Mark and cousins :—It would give 
me great pleasure if you would receive me into 
your circle. 1 would like very much to join your 
Horticultural club. 1 have taken great Interest 
In our little corner, i have a vegetable garden 
and am also a great lover of flowers. Uncle 
Mark, I think that story, “An Tlgly uirl,’’ is a 
splendid story. This is the llrst letter i have 
written to Uncle Mark, so please do not throw It 
Into the waste-paper basket. Lake Side. 
Wesleyvllle, Pa, 
Uncle Mark :—Please take me Into your circle 
of boys and girls. I will try not to trouble you too 
much. 1 like flowers very much, although I have 
but a few house plants, but l have sown a good 
many seeds, and hope they will do well, l think 
it would be nice for the members of the Horticul¬ 
tural Club to exchange plants with one another. 
Please put my name on the list of the Horticultural 
Club. I am thirteen years old. Yours truly, 
Madison Co., Iowa. Ida M. Wilson, 
•abliatl) limiting. 
“FOR MY SAKE.” 
Three little words, but full of tenderest meaning ; 
Three little wordB the heart cau scarcely hold; 
Three little words, but ou their import dwelling-, 
What wealth of love those syllables untold ! 
*' For My sake" cheer the guttering, help the needy, 
Ou earth this was My work, I give it thee; 
If thou wouldst follow in thy Master's footsteps. 
Take up My cross, and conic, and learn of Me. 
“ For My sake ’’ let the little ones be tended. 
All that X gave unto thee safely keep; 
I took them in My arms, received, and blessed them. 
Do now the same for Me, " Feed now My sheep.” 
*’ For My sake" let the harsh word die uuuttered 
That trembles ou the swift impetnottB tongue; 
“ For My sake ” cheek the quick rebellious feeling 
That rises when thy brother does thee wrong. 
“ For My sake ’’ ever press with patience onward. 
Although the race be hard, the battle long; 
Within My leather’s house are many mansions, 
There thou shalt rest and Join the victor's song. 
And if in coming days the world revile thee, 
If “for My sake” thou suitor pain and loss. 
Bear on faint heart, thy Master went before thee. 
They ouly wear Ills crown who share His cross. 
O Thou, dear Lord, who walked on earth incarnate, 
Fain would we follow, but we fear to fall; 
I,o! at Thy feet we bend, Thy aid imploring, 
Our only plea that “ For Thy sake " we call. 
[Sational Baptist. 
--- 
ST. PAUL AND INGERSOLL. 
The most eloquent of materialists. Col. Inger- 
soll, Monday, delivered a discourse over the re¬ 
mains of his brother. Side by side with his oration 
we give the words of St. Paul :— 
So also Is the resur¬ 
rection of the dead. It 
Is sown In corruption, 
it Is raised in Incorrup- 
tlon :— 
It Is sown In dishonor, 
It is raised In glory; It 
Is sown In weakness, it 
Is raised In power ;— 
It Is sown a natural 
body, It Is raised a spir¬ 
itual body. There Is a 
natural body, and there 
Is a spiritual body. 
And so It Is written, 
The first, man Adam was 
UlOdC a living 80U1; 1U*- 
last Adam was made a 
quickening spirit. 
Jfowbelt that was not 
first which Is spiritual, 
hut that which Is nat¬ 
ural : and afterward that 
winch Is spiritual 
The first man is of the 
eart h, earthy: t he second 
man Is the lord from 
heaven. 
As Is the earthy, such 
are they also that are 
earthy: and as Is the 
heavenly, such ure they 
also that are heavenly. 
And as we have borne 
the Image of the earthy, 
we shall also bear the 
Image of the heavenly. 
Now, this 1 say, breth¬ 
ren, that flesh and blood 
cannot Inherit the klug- 
Uom of < lod; neither doth 
corruption inherit Incor¬ 
ruption. 
Behold, 1 show you a 
mystery; Wo shall not 
all sleep, but we shall all 
be changed. 
in a moment, In the 
Iwlnkllng or an eye, at 
the last trump; for tHe 
trumpet shall sound, and 
the dead shall be raised 
incorruptible, and we 
shall be changed. 
For this corruptible 
must put. on lncorrup- 
tlon, und this mortal 
must put on Immortal¬ 
ity. 
So when this corrupti¬ 
ble shall have pm on 
IhCOiTuptlou, aud this 
mortal shall have put on 
Immortality, then shall 
be brought to pass the 
Baying that Is written, 
Death is swallowed up 
in victory. 
o Death, where Is thy 
sting 7 O Grave, where 
is thy victory ? 
The sting of death is 
sin; and the strength of 
sin is the law. 
Blit thanks be to God, 
which glvi'th us the vic¬ 
tory through our Lord 
Jesus Christ. 
My Friends: — 1 am 
going to do that which 
the dead oft promised 
Uni t he would do tor me. 
This loved and loving 
brother, husband, fath¬ 
er, friend, died where 
manhood’s morning al¬ 
most. touches noon aud 
while the shadows still 
were falling towards 
the West, lie had not 
passed on fife s highway 
the stone that marks 
the highest point; but 
being weary for a mo¬ 
ment, he laid down by 
the wayside, and using 
his burden for a pillow, 
fell into that dreamless 
sleep that kisses down 
his eyelids still. While 
yet In love with fife and 
ruptured, with this world 
he passed Into silence 
away. Tlfis brave and 
tender man In every 
storm of fife was oak 
and rock, but in the sun¬ 
shine lie was vine and 
llower. He was the 
friend of all heroic 
souls. Ho climbed the 
hights and left all su¬ 
perstitions far below 
while on hfs forehead 
fell the golden dawning 
oi the grander day. He 
loved the beautiful, and 
was with color, form and 
music touched to tears, 
lie sided with the weak, 
and svllli a willing hand 
gave alms. With loyal 
heart, and with the 
purest hands he faith¬ 
fully discharged alt 
public trusts. He was 
a worshiper of liberty, 
a friend or the oppressed. 
A thousand times I have 
heard him quote these 
wools: “For Justice alt 
place a temple and all 
season Summer.” He be¬ 
lieved that happlneas 
was the only good 
reason, the only torch, 
Justice the only worship¬ 
er, manhood the only 
religion and love the 
only priest. He added to 
the sum of human joy, 
and were every one for 
whom ho old some lov¬ 
ing service u> bring a 
blossom to bis grave he 
would sleep to-night be- 
.ncai.n a wilderness or 
flowers. Eire is a nar¬ 
row vale; wo strive in 
vain to look beyond the 
nights; we cry aloud, 
und the only answer is 
the echo of our walling 
cry. From the voiceless 
hps or the unreplying 
dead there comes no 
word, but In the night of 
death Hope sees a star 
and listening love can 
hear t he rustle of a wing. 
He who sleeps here when 
dying, mistaking the 
approach of death for 
the return of health, 
wldspored with the lat¬ 
est breath, “ 1 am better 
now." I sit us believe, 
In spite of doubts and 
dogmas, lu spite of fears 
anu tears, that these 
dear words are true of 
all the countless dead. 
And now, to you who 
have been chosen from 
among tlie mauy man 
he loved to do the last, 
sad office for the dead, 
we give his sacred dust. 
Speech cannot contain 
the love we bear. There 
was, there is, no gentler, 
stronger, manlier man, 
and now for wife and 
children, tor myself and 
mine, we tender to you, 
one and all, our dearest 
fife. 
WhlcU does the reader prefer?—New? York Mail, 
