THE RUBAI WEW-YORKER 
Dear Uncle Mark: I fear I have long ago 
been classed with the “Silent Cousins”—if 
cousin I may be called—for my negligence. 
However, I’ll try and do better in the future. 
We have not. had a half-inch of rain since the 
28th of April, and crops are suffering terribly. 
Corn is hardly two feet fligh and it is tasseling. 
Of the late potatoes we planted, only about 
one-third came up. Wheat and oats are very 
poor, about a third of a crop. Hay on an 
average yields about 200 pounds per acre. A 
neighbor cut 00 acres, and obtained about five 
tons. There will not, be more than an eighth 
of a crop of apples, and they will fall from the 
trees unless we soon have rain. Berries are 
The Gar- 
half so good as the candy we made at home. 
I saw a man selling great pieces of what he 
called California gold. I bought a piece of it, 
because he said it was worth at least $5. Then 
I paid to sit on a horse while a man turned a 
crank and moved us around in a circle. The 
motion was not half so pleasant as that in a 
swmg hanging on the limb of an apple tree. 
Then l saw a man with some little sticks stand- 
ing up on a table. He said he would give ■ r *0 
cents to any person who would knock down 
the sticks by throwing some little balls at 
them. I tried that, but I never could bit the 
sticks; the balls always just missed them. 
When I stopped throning. I was surprised to 
find that I owed the man 80 cents, while I had 
only five cents iu my pocket. A man gave me 
the money on condition that I would work for 
him when 1 got home. I think I worked sev¬ 
eral days before he was satisfied, and I last my 
piece of “California gold.” Now, do you think 
I had 50 cents worth of fuu out of that? 1 
don’t, and 1 have never spent any more money 
iu that way. If you ever expect to have any 
property, boys, keep away from all such busi¬ 
ness as that was. 
f O ME people wonder where the 
men and boys of the future are 
» going to find work to do. We have 
so many men out of work now, 
and so many more who earn only 
just about enough to keep alive, 
that some people seem to be 
afraid the time will come when 
there will not lie work enough to go around. 
What cau lie done then? I have found one 
thing in my life about work, and that is. there 
is only one place iu every trade that is not 
crowded, and that is at the top. Good work¬ 
men are always wanted, and they are very 
seldom out of work. People with money al¬ 
ways want good men that they can trust. and 
they are ready to pay good wages. The great 
crowd and rush comes iu the classes of work 
that anybody can do. The poorest pay is 
given to tbos* who just work with their hands 
and never think about what they want to do. 
To make a good workman a boy should begin 
before he is id years alii to think about what 
he has to do. It takes a life-study to make a 
great man, or to excel iu any line of work. 
Till wp eun’t. hwrin this study any too soon. 
scarce. 
den Treasures were planted, but not one of 
them came up, although they were watered. I 
guess the reason was because tbo sun beat 
dow n so hot that it dried the water away be¬ 
fore the seeds derived any benefit from it. 
Away up here iu Michigan the thermometer 
registered 101“ in the shade. The earth has 
often been so hot that it would nearly blister 
my feet when 1 went barefoot. Some of my 
girl Cousins, in the city especially, may be 
surprised that a girl of 15 would go barefoot; 
but I do sometimes, aud enjoy it, too. That 
recalls to my mind one day w'hcu a young man 
who was working on the farm said his shoes 
hurt his feet. 1 asked him why he didn’t go 
barefoot for a while, just to rest bis feet, aud 
what do you suppose his answer was? “Be¬ 
cause I’m afraid it will make my feet larger.” 
I laughed at him, and told him that I had 
been barefoot a share of every, one of the 15 
Summers of my life, and his foot was larger 
than mine Well, this isn’t what I meant to 
write, but I let my thoughts run away with 
my senses. I guess I had better go back to 
in}’ subject. The vegetable garden is quite 
fine; thanks to the watering Mother and sis¬ 
ter give it nearly every night. Fires are all 
around. Many people have lost about all 
they have. One gentleman had an orchard 
of over 1,500 trees and he lost all but 15, and 
When fire once gets in 
THE STORY OF A DISTRICT SCHOOL 
the two holes in the leather, slip it over the 
hen’s foot aud tie a knot close to the leather to 
keep it from slipping off. The whole thing is 
shown in the picture. Yours truly, 
Vineland, N. J. FRED chalmer. 
A COLLEGE BOY’S DIARY. 
(Continued.) 
It may be imagined that this announcement 
did not add to the pleasure of my ride. I 
wanted to turn back, but it was now too late 
for that. We rode on m silence for a short 
time. My compauion seemed to feel that he 
had done his duty by stating so exactly the 
circumstances of my engagement as teacher. 
The pleasant Winter I had figured out as 
“principal” and “teacher of elocution” had 
been rudely interrupted. 
Suddenly tbe moderator pulled at the reins 
of his horses. These fat animals were only 
too glad to stop. We halted at a cross-road 
which ran its muddy length through a wide, 
flat pasture up to a thick grove, where it was 
lost from view under the trees. 
“Ain’t passed no examination yit, hev ye?” 
The moderator fixed his small eyes on me as 
he asked this question. “Cause ye can't, never 
take up no school till ye kin show yer papers. 
That’s a tied-up rule in Bear Crick deestriet. 
If ye ain’t got no papers ye better git out an’ 
toiler that road through them woods, take the 
fust turn to the right an’ the second to the 
left an’ it’ll bring ye to the super'tendent’s 
house—he 11 examine ye. I’ll lay a boss, so’st 
yer head’ll swim when ye git through. Ef ye 
pass ye better find yer way over ter Wolf 
Crick deestriet. Ye kin stop to my house ef 
ye wanter. but its a standin' rule fer the direc¬ 
tor ter board the master the fust week fer 
nothin’. Snper’tendeut's name's Greening. 
He’s ot all the school books they is, an’ a 
couple o’ dictionaries, I reckon, an’ I expect 
he’ll put ye through a course o’ sprouts." 
There was something about the moderator’s 
method of making these suggestions that made 
it impossible for me to argue with him. I got 
out of the wagon aud he at once started his 
horses again. As I stood in the mud, he called 
back: “I’ll take yer hag down to the director’s 
house seein’s I'm goiu’ by.” 
There was but one course for me to follow. 
Turning in the direction indicated, I picked 
my way as best 1 could through the mud to¬ 
ward tiie grove. There was a thin strip of 
grass at either side of the road, and I man¬ 
aged to make the journey without any serious 
damage to my boots. 
At las-t I found myself in front of a low, 
white house, about which the barns and other 
buildings were clustered so closely that the 
house seemed in danger of being pushed 
into the mad. At first sight I was unable to 
detect auy human being in sight: at last the 
upper part of a man started up from the side 
of a large pig-pen which stood conveniently 
near tbe kitchen door. His clothes were so 
nearly the color of the boards that I had been 
unable to tell the difference. I remember 
drawn the plow. I have received it from D. 
Woodward & Son, ami it is something entire¬ 
ly new in this part of the country, for the 
jointer is on the other side of the plow. 
Everybody thinks it is very nice. We shall 
try it as soon as the wheat is drawn off the 
field. My Grandfather is going to make me 
a nice present for getting it He is going to 
take my plow to Rush to try. We are having 
vacation now. From your niece, 
ABBIE WARD. 
his house and barn 
a meadow it is almost impossible to put it 
out, the earth being so dry that it runs under 
the sod. Great damage has also been done to 
the forest, in fart nearly all of the woods 
have been burned over, and where the fire 
runs it not only destroys the trees, hut the 
soil also. Goodbye, 
“BROWNIE.” 
[1 am glad you are sensible about your feet. 
1 would like to go barefoot myself if I had 
time. I don’t think much of the people who 
are always af raid their feet will seem large.— 
V M.) ’ _ 
Dear Uncle Mark: I have a little bird; 
it sings about all the time. Wo moved last 
December to Worcester, and the little bird is 
over to my Auntie’s, lie was 14 years old last 
Summer. I had two birds but one of them 
die<l. 1 have 48 chickens and a cow, Papa is 
taking care of a farm, he has six cows, nine 
calves, four pigs and throe horses. I go to 
school. 1 have no brothers uor sisters. The 
corn came up aud was doing nicely and one of 
our horses got out and went into the garden aud 
ate the corn and broke it all down. I live at 
the Military Academy. There are 42 boys in 
the school. Your niece, 
Worcester, Mass. ETTA L. GILBERT. 
Dear Uncle Mark: Ever since I could 
read I have boon reading the letters from the 
Cousins. As soon as the pupers are brought 
home T always see what the Cousins and Uncle 
Mark have to say. Grandpa lakes the Rural 
aud would not do without it. Unlike many 
of the Cousins I have neither brother nor sister. 
At present my pets are two canary birds, two 
pigs and one lit tle dog. Last Suiqpier I rais¬ 
ed for myself eight ducks, one goose, ami four 
turkeys. This year I want to get a setting of 
the Wyandotte eggs. I think I would like 
them. I au i going to try fora prize on the Bird 
Cantaloupe, Your nephew, 
Effingham, Ill. noble mitchell. 
[I wish everybody could get a prize.—u. M.] 
Dear Uncle Mark: As I bnve not written 
for some time, you have probably taken my 
name off your list. In my garden last year, I 
had several kinds of radishes, lettuce, parsley, 
beans, peas, sweet peas (which were lovely), 
mignonette and zinnias. Most of ray nicest 
flower seeds didn’t come up, which was quite 
discouraging. 1 don’t know what was the 
matter with them. Quito a good many of- 
my radishes had a worm iu the root. 
Could you tell • me how to prevent it ? 
We have had some very cold weather here. 
At one time it was 15 lielow zero. You ask 
how many think there ought to be a law 
against the use of tobacco. I think there 
ought to be, and 1 wish there was. I also 
think there ought to be a law against the 
use of intoxicating drinks. Don’t you? It 
don’t, do people any good to drink it, but it 
does them lots of norm. 
Duchess Co., N. Y. BESSIE C. UNDERHILL. 
[Lime will kill the worms. I am glad you 
are for temperance,-—u. M.] 
than they really do. They are apt to make 
themselves appear ridiculous. Be careful 
about that. If you have learned something 
out of a book, don’t be in a great hurry to tell 
people about it. It is safe enough to conclude 
that it is no new thing, or it never would have 
been put iu print. Never volunteer informa¬ 
tion to older persons. That always looks bad, 
and it makes a poor impression upon stran¬ 
gers. If you are asked for your opinion, give 
it, and say nothing more. Don’t be afraid 
that people won’t understand that you kuow 
so much. Knowledge is one of the things 
that we can’t hide. It is sure to be noticed. 
There will be plenty of time for you to make 
your mark after you are 80 years old. Boys 
who shoot up so quickly aud appear to “know 
it all’ before they are able to raise a heard, 
generally end like those plants that shoot up 
to a great height and then fall over because 
their stems are not large enough to support 
them. Don’t, think you can erowd into your 
head in a few years what it has cost others a 
lifetime to learn. It. eau’t be done, boys, aud 
you will be better aud wiser men for finding it 
out. Go slow, take your time about learning 
things, but remember what you do learn. 
Some hoys always like to call “cry baby” 
when they see a girl crying. That is too mean 
anil cowardly for any of my boys to do. Some 
girls cry too easily, perhaps, but most of them 
are braver than a boy would be under the same 
circumstances. The boy or tbe man who will 
stand by aud laugh at the sight of a girl or 
woman crying, has no place with me. Girls 
should do their best to be Crave, yet who 
wants a girl or woman to he as strong or 
rough as a boy or man ( It is a man’s business 
to do the rough and hard part of the work. 
That is what he was made strong and rugged 
for. Many women go dragging on through 
life without auy kindness or sympathy. They 
stand it as long as they can. for years some¬ 
times, aud then they just break down. No¬ 
body seems to understand how much they have 
done ami how noble they have been How 
about your mothers, boys: do they need help 
that you can give them? If they do, and you 
neglect to help them, what can we think of 
you? 
Why should people always wartf, to spend 
money when they go off for a holiday ? I think 
the practice is a poor one. Most people, wheu 
they go to the fair or to a celebration of any 
kind, feel badly if they can’t take along lots 
of money to spend. If they bought useful 
things it would be well enough, but half the 
time they won’t do it. They buy cakes aud 
candy, or a dinner not half as good «s one they 
could have brought from home, and very 
likely make themselves sick for a day or so. I 
believe it is bettor to keep your money iu your 
pocket at such places, or, better still, to leave 
it at home. I can remember the first time I 
ever went to a fair. I had 50 cents to spend. 
X bought some peanuts and gome candy, not 
Dear Uncle Mark: lam a little girl 12 
years old. I would like to be a member of 
the Y. H. C. My Papa is a farmer, he takes 
the Rural, and I read the letters from the 
Cousins with much pleasure. We have five 
cows, three horses and two mules, three 
calves aud 27 hogs. This is the first letter I 
Dear Uncle Mark: It has been nearly a 
year since 1 wrote my first aud only letter to 
you. I have been very busy, but I have read 
the Cousin’s letters, aud often thought of you. 
We have a nursery, and raise small fruit and 
the hardiest kinds of apples. The severe Win¬ 
ters have killed a great many varieties We 
have over 00 varieties of grapes. 1 like Moore’s 
the best of the black ones, the Brighton of the 
red, and the Lady of the white. We have 
some grape cuttings which were set out about 
May 1, and some of them are 10 inches high. 
I like all kimls of fruit which I have tasted. 
■edling raspberry. It came up 
Papa has a sei 
among the grape vines three years ago. It 
(.ore last, year for the first time. It was as 
large as the Gregg aud more prolific. A tip 
took root near, and Papa left it, This Summer 
it is five feet each way and has over 100 fruit 
stems, and is larger than the Gregg. Papa has 
picked 2,300 oil’ the old one, and 1,805 oil’ the 
yearling, and there arc a few which are not 
ripe yet. They looked beautiful before auy 
were picked. We have several other seedling 
raspberries and quite a number of seedling 
grapes bearing, also a strawberry. We have 
about five acres of strawberries. They bore 
quite well considering the very dry season. I 
can make 500 or 600 berry boxes iu a day. I 
like to make them. Papa sold his berries in 
Marshalltown. I went with him nearly every 
day for quite a while. It is seven miles. 
Marshalltown is the county seat of Marshall 
County. It is a city of about. 12,000 inhabi¬ 
tants. It is a very pretty place located an the 
Iowa River. TheSoldier’sHomeis located there. 
There are some saloons, but a great many of the 
people are iu favor of Prohibition and think our 
county will be cleared of alcohol aud tobacco 
before many years. There are no saloons in 
our town. We are temperance people. Mam¬ 
ma belongs to the IV. C. T, U. 1 am a tem- 
perance girl, and I hope all the Cousins are. I 
water my flowers, but they are not as nice as 
they were last year. I guess that you are old 
and look young. Is that the way of it? 
Your niece, clara cripps. 
Albion, Iowa. 
[I hope you will do all you can to make tern- 
peranee reign in your county. Every farmer 
boy and every farmer gild should help in this 
work, because there is nothing that can make 
farm life so bad as whisky.— u. m.] 
NOTES FROM THE COUSINS, 
Dear Sill: I saw the picture of a handy 
coop in your paper. I made one, but did 
not like it. I knocked off the slats that the 
door closed over and make a hopple uud fast¬ 
ened it to the coop by a staple, I then took a 
piece o£ grape twine about nine feet long, 
