THE ftURAt 
-YORKER. 
for tl)f Bomig. 
^ . bout the meanest thing that 
boys and girls can do is to 
make fun of their sisters when 
have company. I don’t 
, sbJo^wmI want to see auy of such work 
done. When I see boys and 
g ir l s going about the house 
slamming doors, shouting aud 
saying things that will make 
sister feel uncomfortable, I 
seem to lose my eyesight and 
see nothing but a Jot of young 
bears who are doing their best 
to worry aud plague those who love them. I 
like a brute bear far better than I like a human 
bear. The brute knows no better than to be 
selfish and cruel. It pays to be ladylike and 
gentlemanly. We can’t possibly begin too 
early irv life to make ladies and gentlemen out 
of ourselves. 
One bad thing about eats is that they want 
to catch birds. A cat is far more cruel than a 
dog. There are two little birds that come 
about our house just after every meal. They 
seem to know the time of day. They will pick 
up crumbs and hop about almost within reach 
of one’s hand. They are so tame that I tear 
the cate will pounce upon them some day. I 
should be sorry to have that happen, for I like 
to have the bir<ts about. I don’t think it 
would do auy good to whip the cats even if 
they did get hold of the bird. It seems to be 
a cat’s nature to be sly and cruel. One of our 
cate met with an accident last year. The dog 
snapped at him aud broke his jaw. Now one 
tooth stands right out. He is a good mouser, 
though, but he hates all dogs, I cau tell you. 
D. Woodward & Son, of Clinton, Mich., 
write me that they would like very much to 
send a plow to every one of the Cousins who 
tried for the prize. It w’onld cost a small for¬ 
tune to do it, though, there were so many. 
Tiiey will send a plow at cost, though, to any 
who tried and failed. This is the best they can 
do. and those who want to know more about 
their offer should write them. 
The heus are very fond of purslane, or 
“pussley,” as most people call it. Pull up a 
little and throw it into the hen-yard, aud see 
if I am not right. I lived in a family once 
where the people saw in a paper that “puss- 
ley” would make very good greens. We had a 
very large mess cooked, but it was never eaten 
up, and we never had any more cooked. 
I am inclined to think that most mistakes are 
made because people try to do things in a hurry. 
People want to rush and get things done so 
that they can take up something new. That 
is frequently why they fail. It is what we do 
well that counts for us. I notice that people 
who are so anxious to do everything iu a day 
are always discontented and unhappy. Take 
time and think out your work before you do 
it. One thing well done will count for more 
than a dozen things half done. 
Health is the most valuable thing one can 
ever have. I know it, because I have been both 
sick and well. Youth is the time to lay the 
foundation for a sound constitution. Take 
plenty of sleep. Most boys are glad to do 
that, anyway, I guess. Never use tobacco or 
liquor. I hate to see a boy put his brains into 
a paper aud burn them up, yet that is just 
what these boys do who smoke cigarettes. At 
school the boys used to smoke liay-seed or 
grape vines. They thought It was great fun, 
but I notice that every oue of them to-day 
carries the markings of tobacco on the face. It 
is cut there just as plainly as though some 
one had taken a knife aud cut dec*]) lines all 
over the face. Let tobacco alone boys, and 
drink red-hot iron sooner than take a glass 
of whiskey. 
A great many people think they must have 
something stronger than water to driuk in the 
harvest field. I have never found anything 
better than good butter-milk. When I was a 
boy they used to make “switched.” This was 
a mixture of water, molasses aud ginger, and 
it was pretty week stuff too. I think water 
would be stronger than that. It would cer¬ 
tainly quench the thirst more completely. 
Lemonade is good when we can get fresh lem¬ 
ons, but it generally costs considerable to make 
it. Don’t driuk too much of anything. When 
you driuk water it pays to stop aud ’‘taste” it. 
In that way it will go down the throat slowly 
aud do you more good. 
It is hard to keep the flies out of the house 
now, isn’t it! Good screens at the doors and 
windows are a great comfort. Some flies seem 
to wait, and when the door is opened, even a 
little crack, in they rush. They are bound to 
come where they can do the most harm. It is 
hard work sometimes to drive them out, yeti 
out they have to go, or there will be very little 
comfort. I never thought much of “fly 
poisons” or traps. It always seemed to me 
easiest to guard the doors and windows with 
screens, and then drive out all the smart little 
fellow's that got in. Driving out the flies is 
something like washing dishes in the fact that 
we seldom get any credit for the work, even 
though it is very important. 1 am sorry to 
say that some men appear to take “woman’s 
work” just as if it was a matter of course. 
They never notice that nine times out. or ten 
dinner is on time, but how they grumble when 
it comes a few minutes late. Such men ought 
to “change works” a few times. Then they 
would have more patience. My l>oys are going 
to make men of another stamp, I know. 
I hope there is a croquet set at your home. 
There ought to be, I am sure. Croquet is a 
good game, and it does one good to play it. 
I like all these things that make life a little 
easier and brighter. I don’t like to see people 
going about with great long faces, and taking 
many bottles of medicine when all they need 
is a little brightness and fun. Trouble and 
care are afraid of a good croquet ground, aud 
they won’t follow people onto it. I don’t be¬ 
lieve much iu complaining or in “bad luck” 
you see. We can make life just about what 
we want to, if we will only make up our minds 
to do it. 
I like to see people figure on what I call a 
cash basis. You ask some people how* much 
they are earning, or how much money they 
have, and they will tell you some great amount 
of money that fairly discourages one. On 
asking questions about it, we will be pretty 
sure to find that they included iu this sum 
what they expect to get, aud what they hope 
to owm. That is a very poor way to do busi¬ 
ness. If you have live cents in cosh, aud 
property that you might sell for $5, if you 
could find a purchaser, it is a great deal wiser 
to sav, “I have five cents,” than it is to say, 
“1 have *5.05.” It is the same way with what 
you earn. If you get $3 a week, say so, and 
do not try to make it seem more by figuring 
like this: next year I may have $5, the next 
year $7, the next year *10 and the next *15, 
and so I am really getting now. That is 
the way some people figure, anil a poorer busi¬ 
ness policy, it would be hard to find. I knew 
a boy once w T ho said be made *100 a month as 
a book agent. I found that, he was out just 
half a day aud sold one book, but he figured 
that had he kept on he might have made the 
£ 100 . Men or boys who work on such a prin¬ 
ciple will never prosper. Remember it boys. 
Never go beyond your means, and be sure to 
understand just how much you are worth. 
THE STORY OF A DISTRICT SCHOOL. 
A COLLEGE BOY’S DIARY. 
( Continued .) 
“Can you tell me how far it is to the Bear 
Creek school house?” I asked as I ueared him. 
“I reckon I kin—its nigh about four mild.” 
His little eyes seemed to run all over me as 
I stood before him. He examined mo from 
head to foot. When his inspection seemed 
complete, his under jaw thrust itself out with 
a movement that 1 could hardly understand. 
He appeared to have formed some decided 
opinion with regard to my personal appear¬ 
ance. 
“Yer the new master, ain’t ye!” 
He did not raise himself from his position 
near the post. The little eyes seemed to 
sharpen as he looked at me, and oue boot ad¬ 
vanced a little. He did not wait for me to 
answer, but went on with a voice tliat sound¬ 
ed like a saw. 
“You jest bring yer baggage—wnatever ’tis 
—an’ pack it in that waggiu. I’m goin’ right 
out, ’cause our folks wauter finish butcherin’ 
to-day.” 
He seemed to push the post, away from his 
shoulder, which process brought him to his 
feet. The great boots savagely placed them¬ 
selves in the best position for supporting their 
burden. He seemed like a man of very few 
words, aud there was no reason why I should 
continue the conversation alone. 
I walked back to the station and secured 
my satchel. As 1 came tugging back with 
it, I saw him sitting in his wagon waiting for 
me to come. He might easily have driven 
down to meet me, but that was evidently no 
part of his plan. 
“Ain’t got many cloes have ye!” he said, as 
I placed my burden iu the wagon. “Jes’ well, 
I guess; there ain’t no call for dressin’ up 
when ve go boardin’ round. Ain t no reason 
why the master should dross up no mor’u the 
common run o’ folks. I can make me a good 
livin’ wearin’ a pair of blue jeans pants, an’ 1 
don’t see why you can’t. I made up my mind 
a good spell ago that I wouldn’t never take no 
prize to no beauty show, an’ I expect that has 
i saved me a heap. They is plenty more folks 
, that orter come to the same mind," 
I had no desire to combat this theory. What 
he said appeared to be time enough. It is nev¬ 
er safe to engage an unknown opponent iu de¬ 
bate when the issue can be avoided. It is not 
always the most fluent speaker that wins iu a 
debate. 1 took my place on the seat beside 
my new friend. 1 hardly knew where we 
■w ere going, but there was something in his 
manner that shut out all inquiry. He sat 
heavily on the seat with his head thrust for¬ 
ward, in advance and not above his round 
shoulders. Now and then he turned his head 
and allowed liis little eyes to stray over me. 
“Git up!” at last he shouted with a flourish 
of his whip. The fat red horses started at a 
lazy walk, which pace seemed to fully satisfy 
the driver. We passed out over thelowbill, over 
a country road running among fine farm houses 
and smooth fields. I began to feel that l ought 
to talk. It was quite uncomfortable to lie thus 
silently riding with a total stranger. After 
thinking over what I had better say, I fell 
back upon the weather as most likely to create 
a discussion. 
“This is a nice day Mr.-” I paused to 
let him fill out the sentence. _ 
“Thet shows ye aint no jedge of the weather, 
or else ye live in a swamp somewhere—it don’t 
make no odds which as I knows of.” 
Haviug thus proved my inferiority, he went 
on. 
“My name’s Hardhack. I’m the moderator 
up to Bear Crick Deestriek. John Mouser’s 
treasurer an they is a feller named Forest down 
by the school-house up fer director.” I caught 
at this last name at once. It was that of the 
author of the letter that tempted me into 
Bear Creek. 
“I hail a letter from him. Nice man I sup¬ 
pose, aud a good officer ?” 
"Don’t know nothin. One of these yer 
city fellers come out here an thinks he’s goiu ter 
run us by haw an gee. Wc put him in fer direc¬ 
tor ‘cause he’s the last man ter move in. He can 
talk the juice outer a tree, but I’low he’ll quit 
a heap of it long afore school lets out. These 
fellers that wants things all sliced and dried, 
aint got no call fer Bear Crick, I kin tell ye. 
Somehow 1 began to consider this as a gentle 
hit at me. I made haste to change the con¬ 
versation a little. 
“ What sort of u school have you here— 
pretty well advanced?” 
“ School's all right ef the teachers hadn’t 
been dubbin’ it back fer the last five years. 
The last three Winters we’ve lied men teach¬ 
ers, and everyone on ’em gut put out—last oue 
gut whipped inter bed so’st he stayed there 
fer a spell others they hod boss seu.se enough 
fer ter run. We tried a number o’ years ago 
hevin’ a woman teacher, but that didn’t do no 
good. She undertook fer tor whip otic of the 
big boys ouct, an’ he lip an’ kissed her; that 
bruek up school fer thet Winter. Forest up 
here, he wanted fer ter hire a woman teacher 
agin this Winter, but l see right through thet 
bizness—he lives nigh the seboolhouse, sos’t 
the teachcr’d wauter board to his house au’ 
he’d git pay from the deestriot. 
“A heap of folks in the deestrict wanted a 
big fat feller as lives four miles south of town. 
He ain’t no teacher at all, but he kin s-ing a 
good song an’ speak a dozen pieces fust-rate. 
But John Mouser wouldn’t hev him ’cause he 
licked his brother’s little boy ouct, and Forest 
he see how things was goiu' so’st he voted agin 
him too. I wanted fer ter put in my sister’s 
boy. Good, clever boy; aiu’t. no scholard as I 
knows of, but it’ll take an ox fee ter down him 
in a wrnstle. He cud hev stopped to my house 
so’st his board wouldn’t u cost the deestrict a 
cent. 
“ When it come ter pickin’ out a master, wo 
all sorter voted agin each other till we sorter 
settled on you. Didu’t nobody waul ye as 1 
knows of, but we bed fer ter hev somebody, 
an’ here ye be. If them other fellers hadn’t 
stuck out so, we’d a beu well fixed.” 
(To be conliH UPil.) 
NOTES FROM THE COUSINS. 
Dear Uncle Mark: I am a little girl nine 
years old, aud would like to join the Y. H. C. 
I like to read the nice letters from the Cousins, 
and if you will be so kind as to print this, I 
will write again sometime. My Mamma has 400 
little chicks, Wyandottes, Hamburgs tuul Fly- 
mouth Rocks; I get up early every morning and 
help feed and water them. She has 10 little 
turkies, too. They are the Mammoth Bronze. 
We sent to Kentucky for a trio this Spring. 
We had some little pigs running out, aud they 
ate up one nest of IK eggs just wheu they were 
ready to hatch, and tlu-y got b > eating Mamma’s 
little chicks, too, so Papa hud to shut them up. 
1 have two sisters and three brothers, so I do 
not get lonesome. We love each other so much 
that we never quarrel with each other. Your 
little uioce, bertie dille. 
Edgerton, Kan. 
[These pigs deserved a shutting up, I am 
sure. I am glad they got it. Write again.— v.m.] 
Dear Uncle Mark: I wrote you a letter 
last Fall, and it was not printed, so I thought I 
would write again. I live on a farm of 340 
acres. I am 11 years old. I have one little 
sister. She is two years old. Her hair is just 
as curly as it can bo. We have three work 
horses, and are breaking two colts. We have 
three colts a year old this Spring, and one that 
is two years old. We raise a good niauy Short¬ 
horn cattle. We have 10 little calves, and 
about 26 little pigs. I have two cows and a 
little pig. I received the Rural Garden Trea¬ 
sures, and we planted them, aud there were a 
great many came up. School was out about 
three weeks ago. We raise the Plymouth 
Rock and Houdan chickens. We think the 
Houdans the best layers we have ever had. We 
had about 70 little chickens, and something 
caught them all but 50. We caught a skuuk 
and two rats. I have a nice lot of pansies, 
and I had good luck with all of them except¬ 
ing the ones I tried to raise iu a box, and they 
nearly all died. I have some California pop¬ 
corn planted, and some onions. The sets will 
soon be ready to pick. We set out a young 
orchard of cherry and apple trees, aud they 
all lived but one. Your uiece, 
Sidney, Iowa. nina a. dodge. 
Dear Uncle Mark. I wrote oue letter to 
3 *oti and seeing only part of it in print, I 
thought I would ivrito again. We had only 
three days of snow here, and only about two 
weeks of frosty M*eather. I think that is 
pretty good weather, dou’t you? I live on the 
bank of Nelialem River, it is very pretty in 
the Summer. We have a good many floivers 
here that grow wild. It would take too long 
to tell all their names, so I will not trouble 
you with them. I am getting my flower 
garden ready to plant my flower seeds. I 
will write and tell you how nice they are when 
they bloom. Papa catches lots of Salmon here 
iu the Summer, also trout, flounders, lauiprey, 
eels, crabs, clams, mussels, etc. Nelialem is a 
good climate for fruit, sucb as plums, apples, 
cherries, etc The wild fruit are huckleberries, 
blackberrries, gooseberries, etc. We have 21 
head of cattle, two horses, four pigs, two eats, 
ami lfi chickens. Your niece, 
Nohalem, Oregon. daisy dean. 
Dear Uncle Mark: I do not see many let¬ 
ters from this State, so I would like to join the 
Y. H. C. I am nine years old and live on a 
farm of 200 acres. We have 16 cows this 
Summer, and seven horses. We raised over 
1,000 quarts of strawberries last Summer, two 
kinds, Glendale aud Wilson, I think the Wil¬ 
son is the best, but the Glendale grew the larg¬ 
er. Mn canned 50 quarts, and preserved as 
many more; they are very nice. M 3 ' little 
brother aud 1 go to school Summers (the snow 
is so deep we can’t go much iu the Winter,) so 
we do uot work as much in the garden as 
some of the Cousins, but wo raised some 
turkeys and have not sold them yet for they 
only pay five cents per pound here yet; 
Isn’t that cheap? There is a nice spring of 
water 011 our farm that never freezes; it. used 
to be covered with a kind of rock (petrified 
moss) about the size of a cauldron kettle, with 
the bottom up, the water came out of a hole 
iu the side I like flowers very much. My 
Mamma has a great many. Your nephew, 
Alb ert Lea, Minn. Ray k. dills. 
Dear Uncle Mark: We are two little girls 
—Katie, aged seven, and Florrie, aged 6 
years—that wish to join the Y. H. C., as we 
are very inucl) Interested in the letters from 
the Cousins’ and your answers uml good ad¬ 
vice. We attend school and can read the 
Cousins letters when the words are not too 
long. We have a pet canary named Pete; he 
is a grand singer. We are raising an Aider- 
nev calf which we call Pansy; its mothers 
name is Buttercup. Wo raised some very 
line peppers last Summer, aud took some to 
Aunt Sis for pickles, as she hasn’t auy garden. 
She gave me (Katie) a very pretty Testament. 
As soon as we can write so that you can read 
it, we expect to write to you. Papa has writ¬ 
ten this for us. 
KATtK B. * FLOKVUE V. CLINE. 
Catousville, Md. 
[Let us have a letter in your own handwrit 
ing.—u. m.) 
gftiiMfUantattss 
That Tired Feeling 
The warm weather has a debilitating effect, 
especially upon those who are within doors most 
of the time. The peculiar, yet common, com¬ 
plaint known as “that tired feeling,” Is the 
result. This feeling can be entirely overcome by 
taking Hood’s Sarsaparilla, whiuli gives new life 
and strength to all the function* of the body, 
“I could not sleep; had no appetite. I took 
Hood’s Sarsaparilla aud soon begun to sleep 
soundly; could get up without that tired aud 
languid feeling; and my uppotlto improved.” 
R. a. Sanwkd, Kent, Ohio. 
Hood’s Sarsaparilla 
Sold by all druggists. *1; six for *5. Mado 
only by C. I. HOOD & CO., Lowell, Mass. 
IOO Doses One Dollar . 
