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THINK THIS OVER. 
“Now here’s the secret that doth lie • 
In every great life’s plan, 
His work—It was a man’s w ork 
He did it like a man.” 
There’s a point for you young man 
In this short verse above— 
It will help you when you plan, 
To win at work or love. 
All the blanks of life come in 
To those who try to shirk; 
And the only men who win. 
Take off their coats and work. 
For the world is like a rock, 
Where eneli must carve his name, 
The strong with a sturdy shock, 
The weak with fear and shame. 
And the gray moss hides the work 
Of those who strike in fear, 
Of the men who run or shirk 
When trouble's form comes near. 
But the years can uever hide 
The w'ork of these who know 
That their strength, their hope their pride 
Goes into every blow. 
Get up from your chair, young man, 
Don’t sit like a lazy Turk, 
Success has a better plan, 
Take off your coat and work. 
The weather is much cooler. We have had 
a very suddeu change in this part of the coun¬ 
try. These quick changes from heat to cold 
and from cold to heat are dangerous. People 
are apt to take cold, for they are not prepared 
for the change. A summer cold is very dis¬ 
agreeable. It seems to throw things all out 
of shape. The sun is shining and the air is 
warm and pleasant, anti vet your nose and 
head are all "stuffed up.” Be careful during 
this changeable weather. If the temperature 
changes so that the mercury drops 80 degrees, 
you will need more clothing on. Don’t think 
you know more about such things than your 
elders. You do uot. 
Almost every person drinks tea or coffee, 
but I never could see what good it does them 
to do so. I think it is more of a habit than 
anything else—it may grow into a very bad 
habit. 1 have seen men and women who 
had injured themselves severely by drinking 
too much tea and coffee. Of course they 
drank great quantities of a very strong mix¬ 
ture, but they all had to begin with small 
doses. As 1 have often said, 1 believe in tem¬ 
perance even in the use of water. I think 
milk is the best drink. Some i>eople want a 
warm drink in the AT inter, and I am sure that 
a cup of warm water with a little sugar and 
milk in it will do just as much good as a cup 
of coffee. I have lived in places where they 
made a drink out of roasted rye or beans or 
carrots. The people appeared to like these 
drinks, but it always seemed to me that they 
wanted them because they were warm, rather 
than for auy nourishment there might be in 
them. I am always sorry to see people giving 
coffee to a baby or a young boy or girl. I 
think such a practice is all wrong. 
We have a parrot at our house. One morn¬ 
ing we heard a very strange noise down by 
the barn, and on hunting it up we found this 
parrot perched up in a tree. A man walked 
up unseen and caught the parrot by the leg. 
How he did scream aud bite. We have him 
in a large cage now. He can’t talk, but he 
keeps up a great screaming, particularly 
when he is hungry or angry. He is very fond 
of corn. It is funny to see him eat the grain. 
With his hooked upper bill he tears the germs 
out of all the kernels. He seems to like the 
germ best of all; then he eats the rest of the 
gram more slowly. I have an idea this parrot 
flew away from the city. He is not a country 
bird by auy means. 
Every farmer’s boy in this country, who 
has good health, holds in his head and hands 
the chance to make a fortune. Don’t ever 
forget that. The fortune may come in various 
ways—money, a good farm, knowledge or 
other good things. The point to be under¬ 
stood is that any stout boy can make about 
what he wauts to out of himself if he will ouiy 
think so. It takes patience, perseverance aud 
courage, but it is worth all it costs to be able 
to say: "I made myself.” I want our boys to 
think this over. There is no use m giving up 
aud saying: “Its no use, I can’t do these 
things.” You can do them if you will only 
think so. Boys must save all they can. Get 
a bank account started just as soou as you 
cun. No matter if you only have 10 cents to 
put in, malm a start. Take care of your 
health. Keep out of all bad habits. Think 
about your work and don’t let your mind run 
to play, except while you are playing. Read 
all the good books you can and let all dime 
novels go into the tire, where they belong. 
Watch your chances aud keep cool, aud you 
Will come out all right, 
THE RURAl NEW-YORKER. 
AUG M 
I want our girls to can corn enough to 
last all Winter. I am very fond of sweet 
corn. There can’t be too much of it in the 
house—in my estimation. It is as good as 
canned fruit. There should be euough put up 
so that the family can have some every day. 
I don’t believe iu doing such things by halves, 
you see. This idea of putting up a little fruit 
and a little coni so that the people get only 
a taste of it now and then, doesn’t suit me at 
all. I want enough to eat, and I don’t be¬ 
lieve in playing the miser with any health¬ 
ful food just because it is good. I don’t feel 
much like telling how to put up corn, be¬ 
cause our girls know a great deal more about 
cooking than I do. I kuow how our folks pre¬ 
pare it though, and I know it is good enough 
for me. They cut the corn from the ears aud 
place it iu glass jars, crowding it down hard. 
Then the tops are screwed tightly on, and the 
jars are placed iu a wash boiler of water. 
Cloths are placed between the jars, and the 
water is boiled for three hours. When that 
corn comes out in the Winter it is fit for 
kings. I hope our hoys ami girls will have 
tons of it to eat this Winter. If there is any 
better way of cooking it, I want to know 
about it. 
THE STORY OF A DISTRICT SCHOOL. 
A COLLEGE BOY’S DIARY. 
( Continued .) 
“ But why can’t a man go in there and re- 
’orm the school ? If he miuds his own busi¬ 
ness he’ll get along all right;” I said, strong 
u my belief. 
“ I expect ye aiu’t never taught no deestrict 
school hev ye ? Don’t you never try no refor¬ 
min' over yunder. You keep yer bones hull 
in’ git through yer time an’ you’ll find you’ve 
lied job enough fer one year. Ye needn’t 
tell nobody I told ye so, but I’d jes as soou 
beach in Afriekv as ter teach to Bear Crick. 
[ went over thar last AVinter fer ter visit 
schools, an’ thar set a big feller, 50 pounds 
heavier’n you be, au’ them boys hed him so’st 
he didn’t dare fer ter wink. 1 set thar till 
a piece o’ sweet cake bit me in the ueok, an’ 
then I gut up and went out. I never sed 
nothin', but t bet's jest what Bear Crick is.” 
I shall always think he took pity on me in 
his examination. Doubtless he felt that he 
who took bis life in his own hands and 
marched against Bear Creek ought to have 
his burden made as light as possible. 
“ I aiu’t a gonter give ye no searehiu’ 
examination ; I’ll jest ask ye a few ramblim 
questions so’st tor go through the motions. 
Now, you take the word ‘please.’ Kin that 
be used iu auy other wuy than as a verb ?” 
"Yes,” I answered after a moment’s thought 
—" as a noun.” 
The spectacles fairly slipped down over the 
nose in their excitement at this answer. The 
examiner leaned back with a loud laugh of 
satisfaction. The tight coat improved the 
opportunity to grasp his shoulders with a 
tighter grasp. 
"I sorter flggered on that. I knowed that 
would ketch ye. Ain’t many on ’em kin git 
round that. Ain’t much on grammar up to 
college, be they ? Now I’ve gut me u diction¬ 
ary hero—I wish you’d sorter pick it up au’ 
show me where please comes iu fer a noun. 
He laughed again as be bi ought u rusty old 
dictionary and placed it in my hand. 
" You fellers don’t know it all yet, do ye ? 
AVe kin stump ye yet. I’m sorter hungry to 
see that noun please.” 
1 turned over the leaves and pointed to the 
word plea, aud read the definition, aud then 
gave the plural, plea s. 
"But that aiut what I sed. I sed please— 
the verb—jest Uke please do this, and please 
do that. I aint talkin’ about nothin’ else.” 
The spectacles crawled back on the nose, 
and the coat took another grip at the should¬ 
ers. The examiner was wise in his way. He 
had run for office in Clay Valley too many 
times to push anything that savored iu the 
least of uncertainty. He made haste to take 
the book away. 
“Gut a putty fair grip on grammar, aint 
yol ’Pears ter me ye must hev made a meal 
or so o’ dictionary. Now, I’ll see how ye be 
on Aggers. Guess I kin pass ye on grammar, 
seein’s they aint no great call fer it over to 
Bear Crick.” 
He handed me a large slate that had been 
resting on the shelf over the stove. 
"Ye kin do yer flggerin’ on that. Now, 
’sposin’ I had three bosses worth £100 apiece, 
and six cows worth £50 apiece. The hosses 
kin earn £8 a day workiu’ on the road. ’Bpos 
in’ them cows ter overage 10 quarts o’ milk a 
day, which pays the best, flggerin’ hay, au’ 
grain, an’ milk, uu’ butter at the goin 1 prices? 
That’s the sort o’ flggerin’ we wautdoue down 
here. You work that out, und I won’t ask ye 
no more questions.” 
My work on the college farm helped me 
here, I had handled stock enough to form a 
fair idea of the amount of food consumed by 
au animal and the proportion of butter to 
milk. I worked the question out carefully, 
knowing that it would lead to a long discus¬ 
sion. I threw in all the long chemical terms 
I could remember, hopelessly jumbling them 
together for the benefit of the examiner. I 
think I proved the advantage to rest with the 
cows. Mr. Greening came and studied the prob¬ 
lem when I put the slate down. He appeared 
surprised to think that I had worked it out at 
all. He was bound to find fault. That, in his 
opinion, was what his office was created for. 
"Gonter feed them hosses on medder hay, 
aint ye? Ye can’t get no seeh hay ez I’ve gut 
fer no secLi price. Then agin, ’pours ter me ye 
gut them cows givin’ solid butter, au’ ye gut 
my family drinkin’ nigh outer a gallon o’ milk 
apiece. Thou agin, what’s them?”—and he 
pointed to a long list of crippled chemical 
terms that would have injured my reputation 
forever iu the eyes of my professor of chem¬ 
istry. 
"I thought I’d put in a few of the chemical 
elements, so that we could get nearer the cost 
of feediug. There’s a phosphatic carbohy¬ 
drate, a nitrogenous albuminoid, and a double 
sulphate of a sesqui-oxide, aud”— 
1 1 guess that’ll do. I expect you’ve figger- 
ed it down clos’t enough. Them big words 
sorter shave the profits offeu the hosses. Guess 
I’ll make me a copy o’ tliet, so’st I kiu use it 
when the next teacher comes by.” 
The examination was over, and armed with 
the precious certificate, I started at once for 
Bear Creek. 
(To be continued.) 
LETTERS FROM THE COUSINS. 
Dear Uncijc Mark: I live on a farm of 175 
acres, and a large river runs through it, full 
of all kinds of fish. We have 10 cows and 18 
steers. Just now we are making lots of but¬ 
ter. A\ r e have 40 hens; one lays such a small 
egg and there is no yelk in it. Don’t you 
think that is funny ? I have to walk a mile to 
school. A\ r e have seven months’ school in the 
year. I am 13 yews old, and the only one at 
home. I have one sister, but she ts married. 
I have planted the Rural Treasures, and hope 
they will do better than they did last year. 
(July a few blossomed, it was so cold. 1 had a 
lovely canary bird. I bung it out-of-doors, 
aud a wild bird flew against the cage and 
killed it. Papa said if 1 would try for the 
plow and get it. he would get me two new 
pairs of shoes. I have looked all through the 
big dictionary aud found all I could. Your 
niece, maud Raymond. 
[That egg is queer enough. Too bad about 
the bird. Sorry you did not wiu the plow.— 
u. M.] 
Dear Uncle Mark: I would like to join 
the club if you would let me. I am 13 years old, 
aud live iu Schuyler Co., two miles from Bur¬ 
dette, on a farm with our Grandfather. I 
have one sister. Mother says Grandpa has 
taken the Rural more or less since it first 
started, and we like it very much. We culti¬ 
vate a great many summer flowers. I have a 
nice bed of pansies. I have not done much iu 
the line of gardening. I like to raise stock 
aud poultry best. VVe keep throe cows. Oue 
of them is a Jersey, and Grandpa gave her 
calf to sister und 1. AVe keep her in u stable 
most of the time. Her name is Flossie. I feed 
her milk three times a day, with cooked oil- 
meal morning and night, and a cup of oats at 
noou; then the curry-comb and lots of kind¬ 
ness will do the rest. Sister and I sold t WO y Bar¬ 
lings for £30, and we have a line young cow- 
which we call Topsy. I have raised 51 chick¬ 
ens this Bummer, and exjiect some little turk¬ 
eys soou. Bister uud 1 always save some of 
the money to take a paper. The name of it is 
the Youth’s Companion. I have raised 13 
canary birds, aud have sold some of them. 
They make lots of music. 1 like all kinds of 
farm work, and house-work, too. I will stop, 
for fear of the waste basket. 
Hector, N. Y. LENA bennett. 
[You are flue stock farmers. A great many 
men could learn lessons from you.— U. m.] 
Dear Uncle Mark: As 1 have not seen 
very many letters from this State, 1 hope you 
will uot forget to print this. It is very dry 
here. We must go miles in order to get 
our cattle watered. We live 14 miles from 
Green Bay, and one juile from Neslioto River. 
You may wouder why 1 say we have to go 
\% miles iu order to get our cattle watered. 
It is because there is a large field of wheat 
just near the river. In the Summer we can 
find many wild fruits, such as strawberries, 
raspberries, blackberries, cranberries, etc. 
The cranberries are of two kinds—high-bush 
cranberries and low-bush cranberries. But it 
is too dry to grow anything, and ulso too dry 
to keep water iu the wells. There will hardly 
1x3 auy berries this yeur. My Papa is in Iowa 
at present, visiting my uncle. My uucle has 
i}00 lieus, 04 cattle, and I don’t know how 
many turkeys. They have also four horses 
and one colt. Your nephew. 
Brown Co.. Wis. lewis w. peterson. 
[We must have plenty of water. AVithout 
it we can do little work.—U. M.] 
Dear Uncle Mark: I am a lit+le girl 10 
years old and I waut to ask you if I can join . 
your club. My brother gave me the pea seed 
that you sent him and I planted them and 
they came up, but the rabbits ate them. I 
have a flower garden, a pet hen, a cat, four 
kittens aud a calf and two mocking birds. I 
have two sisters and three brothers. 
Dennison, Texas. fern munson. 
[We are glad to hear from you. What a 
lot of pets you have.— u. m.] 
Dear Uncle Mark: I am a little boy 11 
years old. I took your advice and set that 
hen on 11 Guiuea eggs. I will tell you her suc¬ 
cess. I am going to try for the melon prize. 
I have beds of carrots, onions, letuioe, beets, 
peas, radishes, corn, melons, tomatoes, cab¬ 
bages and beans. The Alaska Peas are in 
pods. 1 planted the Garden Treasures, but 
the ealves got in aud killed thorn all. I go 
trout fishing sometimes. 
Your nephew, James stevens. 
Kirkdale, P. Q. 
Uncle Mark: My other letter was not 
printed, but I am uot discouraged. We are 
having n raiuy season now, it has rained so 
much on some of the hay it is uot fit to put in 
the barn. Some of the farmers have spread 
their hay on the fields to rot. We ha ve a great 
many flowers this year. There were a great 
many poppies among the Garden Treasures. 
A great many of the flowers we did uot know 
the names of. We do uot like the Horsford 
pea, it is bitter after it is cooked, we like the 
Prince Albert the best. We have three colts, 
their names are Prince, Jenny and Nell. I 
should think you would have quite a time to 
keep in memory all the nieces aud nephews. 
Your niece, inez g. moon. 
Oswego Co., N. Y. 
[It is lucky my memory is good—U. m.] 
Dear Uncle Mark: If I will not tire you 
I would like to ask if you fouud 105,000 differ¬ 
ent words in “Clinton Chilled Plow,” or, that 
was the whole number which you received 
from all the Cousius. My sister thinks they 
could not have been all different. I think 
you must have been completely tired out with 
them. Too bad you had uot au Aunt Mark 
to help you. You are so patient with the 
boys and girls I thought you must have several 
of your own. Those were funny verses about 
"A Memory” in the Rural. Mrs. Brooks 
said she should think they might to be spoken 
in our school. I think that boy and girl must 
feel very happy at receiving their plows. 
Y our nieee, 
HATTIE BELLE HOTCHKISS. 
[I added all the words, on all the lists to¬ 
gether.— u. M.] 
Dear Uncle Mark: I suppose you will say 
another "county heard from.” This is King 
County, W. T. As I was reading the letters 
from the Cousins, I wondered what they all 
looked like, or what Uncle Mark was like. I 
wish you would have your picture in the Ru¬ 
ral, as Mary Wager-Fisher did, then we 
could all see our uncle. 1 will not describe 
myself until I see if this makes its appearance 
in the paper; then 1 will tell you what I am 
like, and see if you want me for a niece. We 
live four miles from Beattie, that Queen city 
you read so much about. My Father has a 
hop ranch, and I have raised 31 canary birds 
to sell to the Indians when they come to pick 
hops. I get $5 a pair for them. The young 
Indians are very fond of pete. I will uot 
write any more at present, but if I hear from 
this I will describe our place and my occupa¬ 
tion while out of school. 
Duwainish. maud m. horton. 
[Let us here from you again by all means. 
I guess I had better keep my picture out of 
print.—u. m ] 
PUjSMUaufoujJ 
That Tired Feeling 
The warm weather has a debilitating effect,, 
especially upon those who aro withlu doors most 
of the tinio. The peculiar, yet common, com¬ 
plaint known ns “that tired fooling." is the 
result. This reeling con ho entirely overcome by 
taking Hood’s Sarsaparilla, which gives now Ilf* 
and strength to all tlio functions of the body. 
“1 could not sloop; hud no appetite. I took 
Hood’s Sarsaparilla and soou began to sleep 
soundly; could get up without that tired and 
languid fooling; and my appetite Improved." 
R. A. SAXrORD, Kent, Ohio. 
Hood’s Sarsaparilla 
Sold by all druggists. £1; six for $5. Mada 
only by 0.1. HOOD St CO., Lowell, Uua 
IOO Doses One Dollar 
