for 1 \)t Bon00. 
THE STORY OF A DISTRICT SCHOOL. 
A COLLEGE BOY’S DIARY. 
( Continued ,.) 
It was hard to say from the tone in which 
this invitation was shouted whether I was ex¬ 
pected to walk off the premises or into the 
house. I decided to adopt the latter view of 
it, so I pushed open the door and walked in. 
I found myself in the kitchen; the members 
of the family not actually engaged in doing 
the chores had gathered there to meet me. A 
man, whom I found to be ‘‘Old Johuson,” sat 
by the stove watching a pan of milk which he 
was beating for the calves. Ho had on on Old, 
beaten hat, the rim of which lopjied down at 
the sides ami stood up straight at front and 
back. Through a hole at the top a tuft of 
gray hair stood up like an Indian’s plume. A 
great brush of gray hair covered most of his 
face below the eyes. An irregular hole, ap¬ 
parently out with a very dull pair of shears, 
had been ojjened in this brush about his 
mouth. Through this opening a set of enor¬ 
mous false teeth glanced into view whenever 
his jaws moved. He wore a ragged coat and 
vest and a pair of patched overalls. On the 
corner of the stove not occupied by the pa u of 
milk, a young woman with very red hair and 
very sore eyes was frying doughnuts. A very 
tall, thin woman, who looked as though she 
had been dried and smoked for years over a 
hot stove, was moving wennly about at the 
work of setting the table, I said "good evening” 
and liuug my coat on a nail back of the door. 
Old Johnson watched me keenly over his pan 
of milk. It was impossible to make out from 
his manner what he thought of me. 
“Howdy, teacher,” he said at last; “how 
be ye? Make 3 r erself ter borne. Ef tliey’s 
anything ye want ye don’t see, jest call fer 
it.” 
The elder woman, who 1 found to be Mi's. 
Johnson, brought me a chair. 1 selected a 
place by the stove where I thought I would 
not be in the way and sat down. I bad had 
very poor luck at starting a conversation with 
the Bear Creek people that I had met t hus far, 
so 1 said nothing but waited for old Johnsou 
to open. He stirred away at bis milk indus¬ 
triously for a time without a word. He mon¬ 
opolized so much of the stove that the red- 
haired youug womau was driven to one cor¬ 
ner where the wood-box on one side and the 
table on the other, made it impossible for her 
to get away from the stove. Having driven 
her into this inelosure, old Johnson piled so 
much wood into the stove that the iron in 
front grew almost red hot. The young wom¬ 
ans’ face grew as red as her hair, and she 
fairly gasped at the heat. Having accom¬ 
plished this much desired result old Johnson 
winked at me in a way that nearly threw his 
false teeth out of his mouth. Then he took 
the pan of milk from the stove and poured it 
into a bucket. 
“Here you Johnny," he shouted, “come here 
an’ git this milk for them calves.” 
In a moment Johnny’s white head came in 
at the door. The little fellow smiled with 
pleasure as he saw me. but old Jobnsou’s harsh 
voice quickly called him back to business. 
“What ye standm’ thar grinnin 1 fer? Git 
out an' feed them calves or I’ll take the strap 
to ye 1 ” 
The little face clouded over at once. Johnny 
took up the bucket and walked towards the 
door. It was pretty heavy for the little arms, 
but he tugged at it bravely. As be turned 
arouud to shut the door, there was a look on 
his face just like the one that had appeared 
when he said, “I’mgonter lick old Johnson 
some day.” 
Old Johnson leaned back in his chair with a 
well satisfied, expression on his face. 
“ What ye got fer an appytite teacher?” 
He said at last. “Most on ’em comes here 
with an appytite like a boss. The poorer the 
the teacher the bigger the eater—1 alluz judges 
’em that way. When I wuz on the school 
board I alluz sed ‘ set by an 1 let me see ye eat. 
’afore I hire ye. 1 I never missed ’em onct. 
They done a poor thing when they ’lecfced this 
Forest, in my place. I ’low v e’ll liev ter brid¬ 
le ye up so’st ter save our vittles.” 
Mrs. Johnson came up to the stove to feebly 
defend the honor of her house. “Why Iry 
ai’nt ye ’shamed? He don’t mean nothin’ 
teacher—its jest his joke.” 
Old Johuson gave me another wink that 
fairly made his false teeth clatter. Then he 
turned his attention to the red haired young 
woman. 
“My hired gal alluz makes it a pint to 
stand up for the master. She said-” 
What the youug woman said must have 
been of a very startling nature, for the idea 
pf having it repeated caused her to scowl in a 
dreadful manner, 
“Look at them sour smiles,’’said old Johnson 
exultingly. “Aint that ere a putty counte¬ 
nance? It’s lucky I gut that milk often 
the stove, fer t hat smile ’oheru would a soured 
it, sure’s ye live. Them calves dunno how 
clos’t they run to a sour supper.” 
This enraged the young woman so gfeatly 
that she shouted “shut up!” and threw a large 
doughnut, which, with a geuuine woman’s aim 
went as far as possible from its mark. 
Old Johuson shouted with laughter till the 
false teeth caught at the back of his mouth and 
choked, him into silence. 
“What’s the fun ’o ruuuiu’ folks ef they don't 
git mad? I’m sorter sorry fer ter see good 
fried cakes wasted, lmt then I s'pose they’ll do 
ter go inter the teacher’s pail 'o dinner ter- 
morrer. Bay teacher, when the boy comes in 
I’ll show ye sum fun. Hu’s a pauper, ye see. 
I tuck him frurn the County house. His 
inanu’s sorter foolish an’ he aint noways 
bright. You wait, till be comes in.” 
Pretty soon Bill Johnson and Johuuy came 
in from the barn. Johnny ^iail soaked his 
face with cold water at the pump. Now he 
polished his red cheeks with the coarse towel 
until they shown like a bright apple. 
“Say Johnny,” said old Johnson, “I reckon 
I'll hev ter make it sos’t I shall hev ter go over 
ter Ben Edwardses ’fore long. How’d ye like 
ter go an’ see yer inarm? 
Johnny rushed forward in breathless eager 
ness. “When do you reckon you’ll go?” he 
said. 
"Wall,” said old Johnsou with a cruel 
chuckle, “I reckon i’ll be sure fer ter go when 
Sunday comes in the middle ’o the week,” and 
both old Johnson and Bill Johnson leaned 
back and roared with laughter at this marve¬ 
lously tunny joke. They seemed to wonder 
why I did not laugh, but I was watching John¬ 
ny’s face. 
LETTERS FROM THE COUSINS. 
Dear Uncle Mark; My sweet peas have 
gone. I am sorry to say they did not blos¬ 
som till the last part of August. I waited too 
long. I asked Papa if the f. ost was out of the 
ground the first of May. and he said he did 
not think it was, so 1 waited till the last week 
of May, and 1 planted the seeds in fine dirt 
under a window and they ran as far as the 
window on strings. I think the reason they 
did so poorly is because the ground is so dry, 
but I waterei it every night after supper when 
the sun was gone. But the driest part of the 
Summer they did not get much water because 
the wells and the creek were all dried up, 
and we had to carry all the water. Mamma 
has a nice verbena bed and I took care of it 
for her this Summer as she is not very well. 
We had a hard wind storm which shook all the 
apples off of the trees aud so we will not have 
very many this year. Hoping I may remain 
a member of the Y. H. C. Your niece, 
LOUISE SCHOENFELD. 
Dear Uncle Mark: 1 have become inter¬ 
ested in reading the Cousins’ letters and would 
like to join the Y. H. C. I am a little boy 
nine years old and live with my Grandma aud 
Grandpa on a farm of lfiO acres. We have 
four horses, three calves and two cows. My 
Grandpa takes the Rural and thinks ho 
he couldn’t live on a farm without it. We 
have sold all our hogs except oue little pig 
which I have named Tiny. I have for a play¬ 
mate a little puppy and he is a grout pet and 
can chase rabbits and birds and 1 named him 
after the Roman Emperor Nero. 1 do not go 
to school, but study at home. For fear of the 
waste basket I will close now. Your nephew, 
LEE BEARDSELL. 
Dear Uncle Mark; It has been a long 
time since I wrote you. I expected to write 
long ago but something would bother that I 
did not get it done. I got the sweet peas, but 
did not plant them or any of the Rural Treas¬ 
ures as Mumma aud 1 were both sick: but 1 
will plant them next Spring, aud I will write 
you what luck I have. We have some very 
nice house plants now, among them are 11 dif¬ 
ferent kinds of geraniums, five different 
coleus, three different, oxalis, two ilowcriug 
maple, two hydrangea, four fuchsias, three 
begonias, and lots of other plants, and I huve 
got six little orange trees started so you see I 
intend to have oranges to eat some day. There 
are no potatoes in this part of the country at 
all. I expect they will be high in price this 
year. I have got a coon for a pet. A little 
pedler came along one d/iy and asked if that 
was a wild hog we hud. Papa told him it was 
a coon. Your niece, 
AMV UNDERWOOD. 
Douglas Co., Oregon. 
Dear Uncle Mark : It has been a long 
time siuce I wrote my last letter to you, but I 
hope the Cousins will excuse my silence. The 
weather is very fine now, just the kind I en¬ 
joy. But I don’t think it will last long, for 
■\Vinter is close at hand, I have been at work 
all Summer. I live on a farm of 200 acres’ 
and father and I did all the work ourselves. 
We tended 40 acres of corn, and put in 80 
acres of wheat this Fall, so I haven’t had 
much time for pleasure, exce pt now and then 
a half a day to go fishiug, and there is nothing 
T like better than fishing. Uncle Mark, do 
you ever go fishing ? I am going to school 
now. T ride to school every day four miles to 
Brownsville, and T have seven studies. As T 
come home of an evening, t drive the cows 
from the pasture. We have four fine calves 
and about .’>() Berkshire hogs. Uncle Mark, 
couldn’t you manage to crowd in a few more 
letters in the letter columns? I enjoy reading 
them so much. I wish we could have a whole 
page every week. The “ Story of a District, 
School” is rather comical—I like it. Uncle 
Mark seems shv about tolling his age. My 
birthday will soon be here. I will lie 17 years 
old. I went hunting yesterday and killed two 
squirrels. 1 went ’possum hunting with one 
of my cousins the other night, and it was 
nearly midnight wheu we got back home, aud 
wo had lots of fun, I tell you. I would like 
very much to orrespond with any Cousin 
about my age, who lives in some distant 
state. Your nephew, 
Brownsville, Mo. K. c. riog. 
[Uncle Mark does not go fishing very often, 
and when he does he has rather poor luck. 
Ho is quite a ball player though, aud likes a 
good game of ball as well as the next one. 
We often play ball with a big rubber ball and 
a light bat. All hands take sides and some of 
the ladies are our best players. The dog 
would make a good fielder, for he will run aud 
pick up the bull in his mouth as though he 
wunted to play too. I like to see boys and 
girls, aud men and women too for that matter, 
play bull. It is a good exercise and does no¬ 
body harm if played as it should be.] 
Dear Uncle Mark: Will you let me join 
the Youths’ Horticultural Club? I am 12 
years old. Pa has taken the Rural N ew- 
Yorker for three years. I don’t know 
whether you can read my writing or not. I 
have not studied writing much,but I am study¬ 
ing farming. Can you tell me what will kill 
cabbage lice. There are a great many on our 
cabbage this years. * ernest furlong. 
Lawrence Co., D. T. 
[Buhach will kill the insects.—u. m.J 
Dear Uncle Mark: I am a little girl, 
nine years old, and 1 thought 1 would write 
you a letter this cold day. We live by the side 
of Lake Champlain and it looks cold and lone¬ 
some. We can see the snow on the Green 
Mountains in Vermont, it looks like \\ inter. 
Wo have a bushel of walnuts aud over a 
bushel of pop corn, so Uncle Mark it' you will 
come and see us you may havg some to cat. 
We have four pigs, two-year-old ones, and two 
young ones. The young ones can jump a 
fence os well as any boy. It is fun to see them 
jump out of their pep. 1 have a cat ; his name 
is Spot. When he is poor he will play and is 
very nice, but just as soon as he gets fat ho 
gets so lazy that ho won’t do anything but 
sleep under the stove. MINNIE SIBLEY. 
Essex Co., N. Y. 
[I have a great, mind to stop work and come 
at once. It is probably more fun to see those 
pigs jump over the fence than it is to drive 
them back again. I have seen pigs before now 
fastened to a stake by tying a rope to one of 
their hind legs. Some people as well as some 
cate get lazy when they eat too much.—u. m.] 
Dear Uncle Mark: I have written you 
several letters and have had but one printed. 
But I am not discouraged, and thought I had 
butter write again, for I guess the Cousins 
have forgotten to write lately, by the looks of 
those advertising columns. * 
I was Ifi years old on Sept. 3rd. 1 had quite 
a number of presents given to me. My sweet 
peas Came up quite well, and were very nice 
(what there was of them), for between the 
chickens and the dry weather there were not 
many left, though I tried to take good care of 
them. My brother ami sister and I have three 
little Bantams (two hens and a rooster) that a 
lady gave us. We have not named them yet. 
Perhaps you can tell us some nice names for 
them. I ruined eight rows of onions this Sum¬ 
mer; the rows were nearly four rods long. I 
would like to correspond with Lena Bennett, 
of Hector, Schuyler Co., N. Y., for she is 
about my age, aud 1 ho|H3 if slm sees my letter 
in the Rural, and wishes to correspond with 
me, she will write me a letter. 
Yours respectfully, sadie e. wrigiit. 
North Ridge, N. Y. 
[I should have to know more about the Ban¬ 
tams before I could name them. It is better 
to name our own things, then we will thiuk 
more of them.—U. M.J 
gUiscfUnncoujs ISUwtitfing. 
DIXON’S '‘Carburet, of Iron” Stove Polish wai 
established In 1X27, uml Is to-day, ns it was then, the 
neatest and brightest In the market ; n pure plumbago, 
giving oft no poisonous vapors. The size Is now doub¬ 
led aud cake weighs nearly half a pound, but the quali¬ 
ty aud prloe remain the same. Ask your goocer for 
Dlyon's big cake. 
THE COCAINE HABIT. 
THE WORST SLAVERY KNOWN—NEW 
REVELATIONS OF POWER. 
Cincinnati Tlmrs-Star. 
When cocoaine was first discovered, the 
medical world exclaimed “ thank heaven!” 
But useful as it is, it is also dangerous, es¬ 
pecially when its use is perverted from the 
deadening of pain for surgical operations, to 
the stimulation and destruction of the human 
body. Its first effects are soothing and capti- 
vati ng, but the thraldom is the most horrible 
slavery known to humanity. 
,T. L. Stephens, M. D., of Lebanon. O., was 
iutervied by our reporter yesterday at the 
Grand Hotel, and during the conversation the 
doctor said: “ The cocaine habit is a thou¬ 
sand times worse than the morphine and 
opium habits, aud you would be astonished,’’ 
he said, “if you kuew how frightfully the 
habit is increasing.” 
“ What are its effects?” 
“ It is the worst constitution wrecker ever 
known. It ruins the liver an i kidneys in 
half a year, aud when this work is done, the 
strongest constitution soon succumb*.” 
“Doyou know of Doctor Underhill’s case 
here in Cincinnati?” 
“That loading physician who became a vic¬ 
tim of the cocaine habit? Yes. Hi* case was 
a very sad one, but the habit cau be cured. I 
have rescued many a man from a worse con¬ 
dition.” 
“What, worse than Dr. Underhill’s?" 
“Indeed, sir, far so. Justin M. Hall. A. M., 
M. 1)., president of the State Board of Health 
Of Iowa, and a famed practitioner, and Alex¬ 
ander Neil, M. D.. professor of surgery in the 
Columbus Medical College, and president of 
the Academy of Medicine, a man widely 
known. Rev. W. P. Cluneuy, of Indianapolis, 
lnd., from personal experience in opium eat¬ 
ing, etc., can tell you of the kind of success 
our form of treatment wins, and so cau H. C. 
Wilson, formerly of Cincinnati, who- is now 
associated with me.” 
“Would you mind letting our readers iuto 
the secret of your methods?” 
“ Well, young man. you surely have a good 
bit of assurance to ask a innu to give his busi- 
uoss away to the public; but I won’t wholly 
disappoint you. I have treated over 20,000 pa¬ 
tients, In common with many eminent phy¬ 
sicians, I for years made a close study of the 
effects of the habits on the system aud the or¬ 
gans which they most severely attack. Dr. 
Hall, Dr. Neil and Mr. Wilson, whom I have 
mentioned, and hundreds of others, equally as 
expert, made many similar experiments on 
their own behalf. Wo each found that these 
drugs worked most destructively in the kid¬ 
neys an 1 liver; in fact, finally destroyed them. 
It was then apparent that no cure could be ef¬ 
fected until those organs could b; restored to 
health. We recently exhausted the entire 
range of medical science, experimenting with 
all known remedies for these organs, and as the 
result of these close investigations wo all sub¬ 
stantially agreed, though following different 
lines of inquiry, that the most reliable, scien¬ 
tific preparation was Warner’s sufu cure. This 
was the second point in the discovery. The 
third was our own private form of treatment, 
which, of course, wo do not divulge to the pub¬ 
lic. Every ease that wo have treated first 
with Warner’s safe cure, then with our own 
private treatment, aud followed up again with 
Warners safe cure for a few weeks has 
been successful. These habits can’t be cured 
without using it, because the habit is nour¬ 
ished and sustained in the liver aud kidneys. 
The habit cau be kept up in moderation, how¬ 
ever, if free use lie also made, at the same 
time, of that great remedy.” 
“Yes, it is a world-famed aud justly cele¬ 
brated specific! Like many other physicians, 
I used to deride the claims made for it, but I 
know n )W fora fact that it is the world’s great¬ 
est blessing, having sovereign power over 
hitherto incurable diseases of the kidneys and 
liver, uud when I have said that, young man, 
T have said nearly everything, for most diseas¬ 
es originate in, or arc aggravated by, a de¬ 
praved condition of the kidneys,” 
“People do not realize this, because, singu¬ 
lar us it may seem, the kidneys may be in a 
very advanced stage of decomposition, aud 
yet owing to the fact that there are but few 
nerves of sensation in them the subject will 
not experience much pain therein. On this 
account thousands of people diu every year 
of kidney disease unknowingly. They have 
so culled disorders of the head, of the heart 
aud lungs and stomach, and treat them iu 
vain, for the real cause of their misery is 
deranged kidneys, and if they were restored 
to health, the other disorders would soon dis¬ 
appear.” 
Dr. Stephens’s experience, that can lie con¬ 
firmed by many thousands whom he has treat¬ 
ed, adds only more emphasis to the experience 
of many hundreds or thousands all over the 
world, that the remedy he refers to is without 
any doubt the most beuefioent discovery ever 
given to humanity, 
