—J.G. Whittier in St. Nicholas.



AFTER TWENTY YEARS.

The following tale of love and faithful waiting is told the New York World by its Canton, Ohio, correspondent:

At the residence of Thomas Barker, three miles from this village, two people were to-day made man and wife. William Craig left his pretty girl sweetheart in a fit of jealous anger on the eve of Dec. 9, 1863, returned a week or two since, found his betrothed still single and true, and this afternoon the long deferred marriage was consummated. All the surviving friends of their youth were present, and many half forgotten associates came from neighboring towns and farms to join in the merrymaking.

Twenty years ago Will Craig worked on his father's farm near here during the day and spent his evenings at the residence of a farmer neighbor. The attraction was Mary Barker, a pretty seventeen-year old girl. Craig was deeply in love and so was Mary, but like many other girls she liked to play the coquette occasionally.

Their wedding-day was set for Christmas, 1863, and the prospective bride felt secure. One evening, however, the pretty Mary pushed her coquetry too far. On December 7, 1863, Farmer Barker gave an old-fashioned "sociable" in honor of his daughter's approaching wedding. Craig was there, of course, but his happiness was marred by the presence of a Pittsburg youth—a new comer. Mary allowed this young man to pay her many attentions.

Craig was madly jealous. After all his attention he thought his betrothed showed too much regard for his rival, and as she only laughed at his pleadings he grew angry and threatened to leave. Her seeming indifference made him desperate, and he declared:

"If you dance once more with that fellow you will not see me again for twenty years."

"You couldn't leave me for even twenty hours if you tried ever so hard," she replied, and with a coquettish smile she went off to dance with his rival.

Craig went home alone that night and the next day was missing. The most careful search failed to reveal any trace of him. The old couple continued to till the farm without the aid of the strong-armed son, and at the neighbor's down the road pretty Mary Barker went about her household labors with a demure air that told plainly how she regarded her lover's disappearance. She refused to "keep company" in the old-fashioned way with any of the young farmers who would willingly have taken young Craig's place. She went out very little, kept a cat and grew domestic in her habits. She had an abiding faith that Craig would return, and to all entreaties would only shake her head and say: "I am waiting for Will." The firm contour of the cheek grew somewhat less rounded, the springing step less elastic, but she would not think of marriage.

Friday, December 7, of this month (December) was just twenty years since the disappearance of William Craig. In the twilight a bearded man of forty came up the walk and as Miss Barker opened the door he put out both hands and said:

"Mary, I have come again."

"I am sorry you waited so long Will," was the quiet reply, as she led him into the house, where each told the story of the weary waiting, and Christmas was fixed upon once more as the day for the wedding.

To the eager questions of old friends as to where he spent the time, he told them, as he had already told his wife, how he had at once gone to Philadelphia, enlisted in the army under an assumed name, then, after the war, gone to Nebraska and taken up a tract of valuable land. This he had diligently cultivated until at present he is in more than comfortable circumstances. The Craigs will leave early in January for their Nebraska home.



WILL READERS TRY IT.

The other day, says an exchange, we came across the following recipe for making ink in an English archaeological journal. Archaeology is the "science of antiquities," and surely this recipe is old enough to be good. It occurred to us that during the summer vacation many of our boys who are longing for something to do, might earn some money by manufacturing some of this ink and selling it in their neighborhood. At any rate the recipe is a good one and worthy of a trial by old folks as well as young people. Here is the recipe, and the way it was discovered, as told by a writer in Notes and Queries:

While examining a large number of MSS. of an old scribe some twenty years ago, I was struck with the clearness and legibility of the writing, owing in a great measure to the permanent quality of the ink, which had not faded in the least, although many of the MSS. were at least two hundred years old. It was remarkable, that the writer must have been celebrated in his day for the excellence of his calligraphy, for I met with a letter or two from his correspondents in which there was a request for the recipe of the ink he used. I found his recipes, which I copied, and from one of them, dated in 1654, I have, during the last fifteen years, made all the ink I have used. The recipe is as follows:

Rain water, one pint; galls, bruised, one and one-half ounces; green copperas, six drachms; gum Arabic, ten drachms. The galls must be coarsely powdered and put in a bottle, and the other ingredients and water added. The bottle securely stoppered, is placed in the light (sun if possible), and its contents are stirred occasionally until the gum and copperas is dissolved; after which it is enough to shake the bottle daily, and in the course of a month or six weeks it will be fit for use. I have ventured to add ten drops of carbolic acid to the contents of the bottle, as it effectually prevents the formation and growth of mold, without any detriment to the quality of the ink, so far as I know.



THE SECRET OF LONGEVITY.

A French medical man who has just died at the age of one hundred and seven, pledged his word to reveal the secret of his longevity, when no more, for the benefit of others. It was stipulated, however, that the precious envelope containing the recipe for long life was not to be opened until he had been buried. The doctor's prescription, now made known, is simple enough; and easy to follow; but whether it is as available as he pretends, the Journal of Chemistry says, is extremely doubtful. He tells his fellow-men, that, if they wish to live for a century or more, they have but to pay attention to the position of their beds. "Let the head of the bed be placed to the north, the foot to the south; and the electric current, which is stronger during the night in the direction of the north, will work wonders on their constitutions, insure them healthier rest, strengthen their nervous system, and prolong their days." It is, he adds, to scrupulous attention to the position of his bed that he ascribes his longevity, the enjoyment of perfect health, and the absence of infirmity.



HOW THE INVENTOR PLAGUES HIS WIFE.

A facetious chap connected with one of our daily newspapers gave the following amusing burlesque on the trials of an inventor's wife:

"It is all very well to talk about working for the heathen," said one, as the ladies put up their sewing, "but I'd like to have some one tell me what I am to do with my husband." "What is the matter with him?" asked a sympathetic old lady. "William is a good man," continued the first, waving her glasses in an argumentative way, "but William will invent. He goes inventing round from morning till night, and I have no peace or comfort. I didn't object when he invented a fire escape, but I did remonstrate when he wanted me to crawl out of the window one night last winter to see how it worked. Then he originated a lock for the door that would not open from midnight until morning, so as to keep burglars out. The first time he tried it he caught his coat tail in it, and I had to walk around him with a pan of hot coals all night to keep him from freezing." "Why didn't he take his coat off?" "I wanted him to, but he stood around till the thing opened itself, trying to invent some way of unfastening it. That's William's trouble. He will invent. A little while ago he got up a cabinet bedstead that would shut and open without handling. It went by clockwork. William got into it, and up it went. Bless your heart, he staid in there from Saturday afternoon till Sunday night, when it flew open and disclosed William with the plans and specifications of a patent washbowl that would tip over just when it got so full. The result was that I lost all my rings and breastpin down the waste pipe. Then he got up a crutch for a man that could also be used as an opera-glass. Whenever the man leaned on it up it went, and when he put it to his eye to find William, it flew out into a crutch and almost broke the top of his head off. Once he invented a rope ladder to be worn as guard chain and lengthened out with a spring. He put it round his neck, but the spring got loose and turned it into a ladder and almost choked him to death. Then he invented a patent boot heel to crack nuts with, but he mashed his thumb with it and gave it up. Why, he has a washtub full of inventions. One of them is a prayerbook that always opens at the right place. We tried it one morning at church, but the wheels and springs made such a noise that the sexton took William by the collar and told him to leave his fire engines at home when he came to worship. The other day I saw him going up the street with a model of a grain elevator sticking out of his hip pocket, and he is fixing up an improved shot tower in our bed-room."



RECIPES.

A hot shovel held over furniture removes white spots.

A paste of equal parts of sifted ashes, clay, salt, and a little water cements cracks in stoves and ovens.

Fried potatoes: Chop fine cold boiled potatoes; heat some butter in a frying pan and put the potatoes in. A few minutes before taking them from the fire stir in some well beaten eggs. Serve hot.

Sardines picked up fine, and mixed with cold boiled ham also minced fine, and all well seasoned with a regular Mayonnaise dressing, make a delicious filling for sandwiches.

Rye Bread: Make sponge as for wheat bread; let it rise over night; then mix up with rye flour, not as stiff as wheat bread. Place in baking pans; let rise, and bake half an hour longer than wheat bread.

One of the best ways to cure sore throat is as follows: Wring a cloth out of salt and cold water, and keeping it quite wet bind tightly about the neck. Cover this with a dry cloth. It is best to use this remedy in the night.

A delicious hot sauce for puddings is made of six tablespoonfuls of sugar, two of butter, and one egg; beat the butter, sugar, and the yolk of the egg together, then add the white beaten to a froth; lastly stir in a tea-cupful of boiling water and a teaspoonful of vanilla.

A Dish for Breakfast: Take six good cooking apples, cut them in slices one-fourth of an inch thick; have a pan of fresh, hot lard ready, drop the slices in and fry till brown; sprinkle a little sugar over them and serve hot.

A little curry-powder in chopped pickle gives a delicious flavor to it. A tablespoonful of the powder to four quarts of pickle is about the right quantity to use, unless you like to use the curry in place of pepper; then at least twice this quantity should be put in.

A good way to extract the juice of beef for an invalid is to broil the beef on a gridiron for a few minutes, and then squeeze the juice from it with a lemon-squeezer. Put a little salt with it. This may be given, as the sick one prefers, cold or hot, or it may be frozen, and given in small lumps.

Rolls: Flour, two quarts; sugar, one tablespoonful; one half cup of yeast; one pint of scalded milk, or water if milk is scarce, and a little salt. Set to rise until light; then knead until hard, and set to rise, and when wanted make in rolls. Place a piece of butter between the folds and bake in a slow oven.

For Earache.—A writer in the Druggists' Circular says: "The remedy which I here offer has, after repeated trials, never failed to afford almost instant relief. It is perfectly simple, easy of application, costs but little, and can be procured at any drug store: Olive oil, 1 ounce; chloroform, 1 drachm. Mix, and shake well together. Then pour twenty-five or thirty drops into the ear, and close it up with a piece of raw cotton to exclude the air and retain the mixture."

* * * * *

THE PRAIRIE FARMER AND YOUTH'S COMPANION

ONE YEAR, $3 FOR THE TWO

It is not required that both papers be sent to one address, nor to the same post-office.

Address Prairie Farmer Pub. Co.,

150 Monroe Street Chicago.



PAMPHLETS, ETC., RECEIVED.

Gunnison, Colorado's Bonanza County, by John K. Hallowell, Geologist, Denver, Col. Price 50 cents, postpaid.

Midland Florida: The Eden of the South. By "Carl" Webber, New York.

United States Consular Reports, No. 35, for November, 1883.

The Saskatchewan Fife Wheat: Its history, from its first importation from the Saskatchewan Valley, in Manitoba, six years ago, till the present time. By W.J. Abernethy.

Price list of Huntsville nurseries, Huntsville, Ala.

Oscar Close, Greendale. Catalogue of nurseries, Worcester, Mass.

Price list of L.R. Bryant's cider vinegar works, Princeton, Ill.

Vich's Floral Guide. Here it is again, brighter and better than ever; its cover alone, with its delicate tinted background and its dish of gracefully arranged flowers, would entitle it to a permanent place in every household. The 1884 edition is an elegant book of 150 pages, three colored plates of flowers and vegetables, and more than 1,000 illustrations of the choicest plants, flowers, and vegetables, with directions for growing. The price, only 10 cents, can be deducted from the first order sent for goods. Rochester, N.Y.

The Great Rock Island Cook Book, dedicated to the women of America, Chicago, Rock Island and Pacific Railway. This book contains a selection of the most useful recipes and other valuable information in the culinary art. It will be found especially valuable for the young housekeepers, as they can hardly fail to become good cooks with such a guide.

Buist's Almanac and Garden Manual for 1884, Philadelphia. This little book is in its fifty-sixth year, and is one of the best of its kind published. It contains a full descriptive list (with cuts) of all kinds of vegetables, and many kinds of flowers.

Report of the crops of the year, December, 1883. Department of Agriculture, Washington, D.C.

The Household Magazine for January comes to us in its usual bright, readable form. It is an unusually good number and will be enjoyed by the ladies.

Catalogue of Clydesdale and Cleveland Bay horses. Imported and bred by the Door Prairie Live Stock Association, Door Village, La Porte, Ind.

* * * * *

REMEMBER that $2.00 pays for THE PRAIRIE FARMER one year and, the subscriber gets a copy of THE PRAIRIE FARMER COUNTY MAP OF THE UNITED STATES, FREE! This is the most liberal offer ever made by any first-class weekly agricultural paper in this country.



OUR YOUNG FOLKS.

THE CITY CAT.

He is gaunt and thin, with a ragged coat, A scraggy tail, and a hunted look; No songs of melody burst from his throat As he seeks repose in some quiet nook— A safe retreat from this world of sin, And all of its boots and stones and that— For the life of a cat is a life of din, If he is a city cat.

He is grumpy and stumpy, and old and gray, With a sleepy look in his lonely eye, (The other he lost at a matinee— Knocked out by a boot from a window high.) Wherever he goes, he never knows— Quarter or pause in the midnight spree, For the life of a cat is a life of blows, If he is a city cat.

He is pelted by boys if he stirs abroad, He is chased by dogs if he dares to roam. His grizzled bosom has never thawed 'Neath the kindly blare of the light of home. His life's a perpetual warfare waged On balcony, back yard fence, and flat; For the life of a cat is a life outraged, If he is a city cat.

The country cat is a different beast. Petted, well-housed, demure, and sleek; Three times a day he is called to feast, And why should he not be quiet and meek? No dreams of urchins, tin cans, and war, Disturb his sensuous sleep on the mat; Ah! cat life is a thing worth living for, If he isn't a city cat.

And even when dead, the cat With strident members uneasy lies In some alley-way, and seems staring at A coming foe with his wild wide eye, Nobody owns him and nobody cares— Another dead "Tom," and who mourns for that, If he's only a city cat.

—Providence Press.



AMUSING TRICKS.

THE FRUIT CANDLE.

Procure a good, large apple or turnip, and cut from it a piece of the shape to resemble the butt-end of a tallow candle; then from a nut of some kind—an almond is the best—whittle out a small peg of about the size and shape of a wick end. Stick the peg in the apple and you have a very fair representation of a candle. The wick you can light, and it will burn for at least a minute. In performing you should have your candle in a clean candlestick, show it plainly to the audience, and then put it into your mouth, taking care to blow it out, and munch it up. If you think best, you can blow the candle out and allow the wick to cool, and it will look, with its burned wick, so natural that even the sharpest eyes can not distinguish it from the genuine article.

Once, at a summer resort in Massachusetts, I made use of this candle with considerable effect. While performing a few parlor tricks to amuse some friends, I pretended to need a light. A confederate left the room, and soon returned with a lantern containing one of these apple counterfeits.

"Do you call that a candle?" I said.

"Certainly," he replied.

"Why, there is scarcely a mouthful."

"A mouthful? Rather a disagreeable mouthful, I guess."

"You have never been in Russia, I presume."

"Never."

"Then you don't know what is good."

"Good?"

"Yes, good. Why, candle ends, with the wick a little burned to give them a flavor, are delicious. They always serve them up before dinner in Russia as a kind of relish. It is considered bad taste in good society there to ask a friend to sit down to dinner without offering him this appetizer."

"The bad taste would be in the relish, I think."

"Not at all. Try a bit."

I took the candle out of the lantern, and extended it toward my confederate, who shrank back with disgust.

"Well," I said, "if you won't have it, I'll eat it myself." And so saying, I put it into my mouth and munched it up, amid the cries of surprise and horror of the assembled party. Two old maids insisted on looking into my mouth to see whether it was not concealed there.

Having soaked a piece of thread in common salt water, tie it to a small finger-ring. When you apply the flame of a candle to the thread it will burn to ashes and yet sustain the ring.

A DIFFICULT CIRCLE TO JUMP FROM.

Take a piece of chalk, and ask, if you make a circle, whether any boy standing in it thinks he can jump out of it. As soon as one proposes to do so, bring him into the center of the room, draw a circle with the chalk around his jacket, and say, "Now jump out of it!"

AN IMPOSSIBLE WALK.

Ask one young lady in the company whether she thinks, if she clasped her hands, she could walk out of the room. On her saying she could, request her to pass her arm round the leg of the table or piano, join her hands, and walk away.

THE HAT TRICK.

Fill a small glass with water, cover it with a hat, and profess your readiness to drink it without touching the hat. Put your head under the table, make a noise, as if drinking, rise, and wipe your lips. The company, thinking you have drunk the water, one of them will certainly take up the hat to see. As soon as the hat is removed, take up the glass and drink its contents. "There!" say you, "you see I have not touched the hat."

THE INCOMBUSTIBLE THREAD.

Wind some linen thread tightly round a smooth pebble, and secure the end; then, if you expose it to the flame of a lamp or candle, the thread will not burn; for the caloric (or heat) traverses the thread, without remaining in it, and attacks the stone. The same sort of trick may be performed with a poker, round which is evenly pasted a sheet of paper. You can poke the fire with it without burning the paper.

AN IMPOSSIBLE JUMP.

Take a ruler, or any other piece of wood, and ask whether, if you laid it down on the ground, any of the company could jump over it. Of course one or two will express their readiness to jump over so small an obstruction. Then lay the ruler on the ground, close against the wall, and tell them to try.

A DIFFICULT LOAD TO CARRY.

Take a piece of wood, such as a lucifer match, and say to one of the company, "How long do you think it would take you to carry this piece of wood into the next room?" "Half a minute." perhaps one will reply. "Well, try, then," say you; "carry it." You then cut off little pieces, and give them to him one by one. He will soon be tired of the experiment.

TO TURN A GLASS OF WATER UPSIDE DOWN WITHOUT SPILLING ITS CONTENTS.

Fill a glass carefully, place a piece of paper on the top, place your hand on the paper, and tilt the glass round sharply, when it will be found that the pressure of the air upward on the paper will retain the water. The glass may then be held by the bottom.

Health and Home says: I want to tell you of something very funny to do, if you have a little brother or sister who does not mind dressing up and standing still for a few moments. My aunt showed me how to do it the other day, when sister Nelly had a birthday party. We took little brother Tommy out into the library and stood him upon a high wooden stool, and dressed him up very finely in mamma's clothes. The stool made him so full that the dress was of just the right length. Then Uncle Ned, telling him to stand straight and firm, carried him, stool and all, into the parlor. I wish you could have heard the girls and boys laugh! He had such a comical look—with his tall body and little round face—just like some of those French Parian figures. One little girl handed him a fan, and then it was too funny to see the tall lady fan herself affectedly with her very small, dimpled hands. All the boys and girls just shouted.—Young People.



BRIGHT SAYINGS.

A writer in the School-Boy Magazine has gathered together the following dictionary words as defined by certain small people:

Bed time—Shut-eye time.

Dust—Mud with the juice squeezed out.

Fan—A thing to brush warm off with.

Fins—A fish's wings.

Ice—Water that staid out in the cold and went to sleep.

Nest-Egg—The egg that the old hen measures to make new ones.

Pig—A hog's little boy.

Salt—What makes your potato taste bad when you don't put any on.

Snoring—Letting off sleep.

Stars—The moon's eggs.

Wakefulness—Eyes all the time coming unbuttoned.

* * * * *

If you would have good health, go out in the sunshine. Sickness is worse than freckles.

* * * * *

HYPOCHONDRIA.

THE MYSTERIOUS ELEMENT IN THE MIND THAT AROUSES VAGUE APPREHENSIONS—WHAT ACTUALLY CAUSES IT.

The narrative below, by a prominent scientist, touches a subject of universal importance. Few people are free from the distressing evils which hypochondria brings. They come at all times and are fed by the very flame which they themselves start. They are a dread of coming derangement caused by present disorder and bring about more suicides than any other one thing. Their first approach should be carefully guarded.

Editors Herald:

It is seldom I appear in print and I should not do so now did I not believe myself in possession of truths, the revelation of which will prove of inestimable value to many who may see these lines. Mine has been a trying experience. For many years I was conscious of a want of nerve tone. My mind seemed sluggish and I felt a certain falling off in my natural condition of intellectual acuteness, activity, and vigor. I presume this is the same way in which an innumerable number of other people feel, who, like myself, are physically below par, but like thousands of others I paid no attention to these annoying troubles, attributing them to overwork, and resorting to a glass of beer or a milk punch, which would for the time invigorate and relieve my weariness.

After awhile the stimulants commenced to disagree with my stomach, my weariness increased, and I was compelled to resort to other means to find relief. If a physician is suffering he invariably calls another physician to prescribe for him, as he cannot see himself as he sees others; so I called a physician, and he advised me to try a little chemical food, or a bottle of hypophosphates. I took two or three bottles of the chemical food with no apparent benefit. My lassitude and indisposition seemed to increase, my food distressed me. I suffered from neuralgic pains in different parts of my body, my muscles became sore, my bowels were constipated, and my prospects for recovery were not very flattering. I stated my case to another physician, and he advised me to take five to ten drops of Magende's solution of morphine, two or three times a day, for the weakness and distress in my stomach, and a blue pill every other night to relieve the constipation. The morphine produced such a deathly nausea that I could not take it, and the blue pill failed to relieve my constipation.

In this condition I passed nearly a year, wholly unfit for business, while the effort to think was irksome and painful. My blood became impoverished, and I suffered from incapacity with an appalling sense of misery and general apprehension of coming evil. I passed sleepless nights and was troubled with irregular action of the heart, a constantly feverish condition, and the most excruciating tortures in my stomach, living for days on rice water and gruel, and, indeed, the digestive functions seemed to be entirely destroyed.

It was natural that while in this condition I should become hypochondrical, and fearful suggestions of self-destruction occasionally presented themselves. I experienced an insatiable desire for sleep, but on retiring would lie awake for a long time, tormented with troubled reflections, and when at last I did fall into an uneasy slumber of short duration, it was disturbed by horrid dreams. In this condition I determined to take a trip to Europe, but in spite of all the attentions of physicians and change of scene and climate, I did not improve, and so returned home with no earthly hope of ever again being able to leave the house.

Among the numerous friends that called on me was one who had been afflicted somewhat similarly to myself, but who had been restored to perfect health. Upon his earned recommendation I began the same treatment he had employed but with little hope of being benefited. At first, I experienced little, if any, relief, except that it did not distress my stomach as other remedies or even food had done. I continued its use, however, and after the third bottle could see a marked change for the better, and now after the fifteenth bottle I am happy to state that I am again able to attend to my professional duties. I sleep well, nothing distresses me that I eat, I go from day to day without a feeling of weariness or pain, indeed I am a well man, and wholly through the influence of H.H. Warner & Co's Tippecanoe. I consider this remedy as taking the highest possible rank in the treatment of all diseases marked by debility, loss of appetite, and all other symptoms of stomach and digestive disorders. It is overwhelmingly superior to the tonics, bitters, and dyspepsia cures of the day, and is certain to be so acknowledged by the public universally. Thousands of people to-day are going to premature graves with these serious diseases, that I have above described, and to all such I would say: "Do not let your good judgment be governed by your prejudices, but give the above named remedy a fair and patient trial, and I believe you will not only be rewarded by a perfect restoration to health, but you will also be convinced that the medical profession does not possess all the knowledge there is embraced in medical science."

A.G. RICHARDS, M.D., 468 Tremont street, Boston, Mass.



COMPILED CORRESPONDENCE.

E.B.F., Scotia, Neb., writes: The weather, so far this winter, has been extremely warm. No snow to exceed one inch since October. Cattle and hogs doing finely. Corn planted early is a good crop both as to quality and quantity, but late planted is soft. Wheat and oats were an extra good crop, wheat yielding from 25 to 35 bushels per acre, and oats from 50 to 75 bushels.

E.B.F.

* * * * *

Cobden, Ill., Jan. 6.—We have been through the coldest weather ever experienced here since weather records have been kept, which is twenty-five years or more. Yesterday morning the mercury reached 24 degrees below at my house, which is 200 feet higher than the village. Reports from lower situations run down to 26, 28, with one of 30. This is six degrees lower than the lowest record ever made here, which was twenty years ago, when on the 1st of January it marked 18 below at my house, with some other records two or three degrees lower. At that time peach orchards were badly killed. There can be no doubt that such is the case now. And if it has been proportionately cold north, I fear that the injury to all kinds of fruit trees must have been very serious.

PARRER EARLE.

* * * * *

Kane Co., Jan 7.—The weather has been intensely cold here since the 3d instant. The thermometer has been from 4 to 28 degs. below zero at 7 a.m., and from 2 to 16 degs. below at 2 p.m. The 5th was the coldest. The mercury dropped to 28 degs. below at sunrise; in some places 32 degs. below. On the 6th, 22 degs. below at 7 a.m.; at 12 m. 4 degs. below; at 5 p.m. 10 degs. below. Domestic animals were kept closely housed, except while being watered. Where they were exposed to the weather, they froze. We have not had such continued cold weather since January 1864, when for ten successive days it was intensely cold. Some farmers are short of coarse feed, and are shipping bran and middlings from Minneapolis, and corn from Kansas and Nebraska. Many farmers who were shipping milk to Chicago, are now taking it to the cheese factories. There has been an over supply of milk in the city. The dividends for October were from $1.16 to $1.25 per cwt.

J.P.B.

* * * * *

THE PRAIRIE FARMER

AND

YOUTH'S COMPANION

ONE YEAR, $3 FOR THE TWO.

It is not required that both papers be sent to one address, nor to the same post-office.

Address PRAIRIE FARMER PUB. Co., 150 Monroe Street, Chicago.

* * * * *

BREEDERS DIRECTORY.

The following list embraces the names of responsible and reliable Breeders in their line, and parties wishing to purchase or obtain information can feel assured that they will be honorably dealt with:

CATTLE.

Jersey.

Mills, Charles F.....................Springfield, Illinois

HORSES.

Clydesdales.

Mills, Charles F.....................Springfield, Illinois

SWINE.

Berkshire.

Mills, Charles F.....................Springfield, Illinois

Chester Whites.

W.A. Gilbert......................Wauwatosa Wis.

SHEEP.

Cotswold.

Mills, Charles F.....................Springfield, Illinois

* * * * *

LIVE STOCK, ETC.

Jerseys for Sale.

One heifer, 2 years old in May, due to calve in April. Heifer, 2 years in June, and due to calve in April. Cow, 4 years old, due to calve in May. Bull calf 5 months old, and one good yearling bull. Address

L.P. WHEELER. Quincy, Ill.

* * * * *

SCOTCH COLLIE

SHEPHERD PUPS,

—FROM—

IMPORTED AND TRAINED STOCK

—ALSO—

NEWFOUNDLAND PUPS AND RAT TERRIER PUPS.

Concise and practical printed instruction in Training young Shepherd Dogs, is given to buyers of Shepherd Puppies; or will be sent on receipt of 25 cents in postage stamps.

For Printed Circular, giving full particulars about Shepherd Dogs, enclose a 3-cent stamp, and address

N.H. PAAREN,

P.O. Box 326, CHICAGO. ILL.

* * * * *

HOUSE PLANS FOR EVERYBODY.

By S.B. REED, Architect.

One of the most popular Architectural books ever issued, giving a wide range of design from a dwelling costing $250 up to $8,000, and adapted to farm, village, and town residences. It gives an

ESTIMATE OF THE QUANTITY OF EVERY ARTICLE USED

In the construction, and probable cost of constructing any one of the buildings presented. Profusely illustrated. Price, postpaid, $1.50. Address

PRAIRIE FARMER PUBLISHING CO., Chicago

* * * * *

MAP

Of the United States and Canada, Printed in Colors, size 4x2-1/2 feet, also a copy of THE PRAIRIE FARMER for one year. Sent to any address for $2.00.

* * * * *

AGENTS

WANTED EVERYWHERE to solicit subscriptions for this paper. Write PRAIRIE FARMER PUBLISHING CO., Chicago, for particulars.



LITERATURE

THE WRONG PEW.

There's one who wrote in years gone by in clear and ringing rhyme— A poet of an elder day and of a distant clime— Who sang of mortal misery, of sufferers long and lorn, "Man's inhumanity to man makes countless thousands mourn!"

The hand that held that golden pen—that golden tongue—is dust; A dust that's dear to hearts that hold his homely truths in trust; And you who read this simple tale of wrath, and ruth, and wrong, May hear the echo of the sob that breaks upon my song!

I sat upon the Sabbath-day within the sacred fane, The sunlight through the windows poured like rainbow-tinted rain; While maids and matrons passing fair, and men of high degree, All fashion's proudest votaries, knelt low on bended knee.

And there was one of stature tall, whose robe of silken sheen Draped quiet grace and courtesy that might have shamed a queen, Save only that her pallid face, and drooping, tear-dimmed eyes, Looked like the Peri's, waiting by the gates of Paradise.

What is it moves that jeweled throng of dainty worshippers? Their hearts have probed the cruel wrong that rankles sore in hers; For she who sat beside her there—ah, heart of hardest stone! Swept forth with stern and haughty stare, and left her there alone.

Then one, God bless her woman's heart! the loveliest woman there, Stepped down the aisle with stately tread, and calm and steadfast air; With gentle voice, and tender eyes distilling heaven's own dew, She whispered to the shrinking girl, "I've room, my friend, for you."

I think earth's sorest sinners need a judge less stern than they Who wear their ermine clasped across a breast of common clay! I think heaven's loveliest angels come among us circling down, To bear the cruel earthly cross, and then regain the crown.

Alas! alas! for paltry pride arrayed in rich attire, And woe is me for priestly praise which is our heart's desire! Would we could seek, like pilgrims gray, beside that sunlit sea, The simple faith that lit the shores of sacred Galilee!

Sometimes it seems that ages past our souls have sojourned here; But God's great angel guards the gate and stands beside the bier; For when some mystic touch awakes the chords of memory, His awful hand holds down the note, and clasps the quivering key.

Bend low, bend low the lofty brow and bring the sack-cloth gown; Throw dust and ashes on our heads, and through the sinful town; I think the green earth grows more gray, beneath its golden sun, Because the good God sits in heaven, and sees such evil done.

—Edward Renaud.



YIK KEE.

After father died some ten years ago, I found, that for three years we had been living on credit. I was eighteen, strong and well, but did not know how to work. In the little back room of the New York tenement house (by the way, the landlady seized my clothes for our rent) I considered my future. I had inherited a great faith in relatives, from my father, so I wrote to seven. I received six polite notes, telling me to go to work, and the following letter:

JONESBORO, COLORADO—JACKSON'S RANCH.

Dear Nell.—I'm your cousin Jack. Your father once give me money to come out West. I've took up land, got a comfortable home, no style or frills, but good folks to live with and healthy grub. I've got the best wife you ever see and seven fine youngsters. The city ain't no place for a friendless girl. Wife wants you to come. She'll be a mother to you. Come right off. I'll meet you at Denver.

Jack.

Inclosed was a check sufficient to defray expenses; so I started. Denver was then only a large town and the depot a barn-like structure. I got out of the cars and stood bewildered among all the emigrants and their bundles. Some one touched me on the shoulder—a roughly-dressed, broad-shouldered man with long, blonde beard and big blue eyes.

"Are you Nell?" he said.

"Yes; and you're Cousin Jack."

"I knew you," he said, as he led the way, "by your black clothes an' sorrerful look, an' them big blue eyes, like yer father's as two peas. We'll git the shader outer 'em when we get home. Yer father was a mighty good man. Bless yer dear heart, don't let them tears come. This 'ere's a dry country, we don't waste no water."

Comforting me in his kind, rough way, he reached his team, a big green wagon, drawn by two wild-looking steeds which I afterward knew to be bronchos. A fat, blonde boy, about twelve, held the reins.

"That's Ted," said Cousin Jack. "Ted, this is Miss Nell, yer cousin; give her a hug." The fat boy solemnly obeyed.

After this he seemed to have a special claim on my affections because he met me first. Jack's wife was a jolly, plump woman, with brown eyes and curly hair. She always had a baby in her arms and another at her heels. She adored Jack. I never knew them to have a quarrel. I soon grew to love the life at the ranch. I liked the big, half-finished house, its untidyness and comfort—its pleasant, healthy atmosphere. I loved the children, the household pets—Shep, the sagacious dog; Thad, the clever cat; the hens and sheep; the horses Dolly, Dot, and Daisy, that did the plowing, and the marketing at Denver, twelve miles away, and were so gentle and kind we used to ride them without saddle or bridle. I learned that cattle grew fat on the dry-looking grass and gave the best of milk. I learned to love the broad plains and the glorious sunsets, and to watch the distant bands of Indians with half fear, half interest. I helped Cousin Mary, sewed and cooked, kept the house and children neat, and lifted many burdens from her weary shoulders. We were so happy. The children and I took long walks over the plains, and Ted and I took many rides on Dolly and Dot, and in the long winter evenings I told the children stories. Occasionally Harry White came over to visit us from his ranch five miles away. He lived with his old mother; he and Jack were dear friends. Harry needed a wife, Jack used to say, winking at me.

One day Jack went to Denver for supplies. He went alone, and coming home later than usual, Ted and I and baby Mame went out to meet him. Jack looked sober and guilty, and seemed ill at ease. If he ever drank, I should have thought him intoxicated. In the wagon was a queer-shaped heap under a horse-blanket. I was sure it moved. When we got behind the barn Jack said, sheepishly, avoiding my eye.

"Well, Ted, I calkerlate I've got su'thing in that there waggin that 'ul astonish yer marm."

Little Mame pulled the blanket off the heap; she had been peeping under it all the while she was in the back of the wagon. There lay a human being. Such an object; short and squat, dressed in a queer blue blouse with flowing sleeves, wide trousers and queer wooden shoes. He had small, black eyes, a shaven poll, from which depended a long thin queue. His countenance was battered and bruised, his clothes torn and bloody.

"There was a row down to Denver," said Jack; "the Christian folks stove in these 'ere heathen's winders, tore their houses down, an' killed half on 'em. I cleared out soon as I could. When I got half way home I heard a noise back o' me, and out crawled this thing. I was so dumfounded I couldn't speak. He thought I was going ter send him back, an' he fell ter cryin' an' jabberin' in that yap of his, an' clingin' onter my han' an' kissin' of it. It sorter turned my stomach. I told him ter set down, give him some crackers ter eat, covered him up an' told him he could live with me. What do you s'pose marm'll say?"

"Oh! Cousin Jack," I said, "of course, she will not care. Your home is a refuge for all the wretched and unfortunate."

"Now don't, Nell," he said, turning as red as a rose, and busying himself about the harness. The Celestial looked at us solemnly: Mame toddled up to him. He looked at her curiously, but did not move.

"Get out, John," said Jack, "you needn't be scared no more; we're to home."

He got out stiffly, and, to my surprise, turned and lifted the baby down. She caught his pig-tail, and pulled it in wild delight. He seemed grieved when I took her away. When Jack told Mary, the good soul found a thousand reasons why he should stay, and hurried to make him a bed in the attic. The Celestial did not say much, but when Jack called him "John," he smiled a sad smile.

"Melican man callee John. Hump. Yik Kee."

So with due consideration for his feelings we addressed him as Yik Kee. He was of great use. He helped take care of the children, did the washing (Mary did not fancy his method of sprinkling clothes) and helped Jack on the farm. We made him one of the family. He was always pleasant and smiling, but was a man of few words.

Cousin Jack added much to his income by trading in hides. Ranchmen living at a distance sold their hides to him and Jack sold them to traders who came around at certain times in the year. Harry White was a partner in the business. He used to go on a sort of round-up and visit the ranches all over the country. The cattle of the ranchmen roamed in vast herds over the plains, protected only by the brand of the owner. Cattle stealing was frequently practiced. Offenders in this respect were shown no mercy. They were convicted, tried, and executed only in the court of Judge Lynch. I never blamed the ranchmen for this; it was impossible to guard the herds in the vast area over which they traversed, and the cattle must be protected in some way. Gil Mead was a wealthy ranchman, who lived about ten miles from us. He owned the largest herd of cattle on the plains. They were branded with the vowels of his name. E.A., which could be recognized anywhere. He always shipped his cattle East to his brother in Chicago. I feared the man. He was tall and gaunt, with deep-set black eyes and low forehead. His home was unhappy; his wife cross and ugly, and his children wild and unruly. This made him more than commonly disagreeable.

I think it was in the fall of '74 that Harry White brought the big load of hides to Jack. Both were much pleased at the bargain they made. Harry gave glowing accounts of a new customer—a ranchman from Chicago, who had taken up an abandoned homestead. He had purchased many cattle from his cousin, Gil Mead, and hoped to rival him in the number and quality of his herd. Jack packed the hides away to keep till December, when we expected the dealer.

One afternoon, not long after this, Gil Mead rode up to the house, looking very agreeable and pleasant. A couple of strangers, also ranchmen, were with him. They wanted to look at the hides, one of the men being a trader, Gil said. Jack was in Denver, so Yik Kee and I went to the barn with them. They looked the hides over carefully, and conversed in low tones, Gil with a suppressed oath. Finally they thanked us courteously and took their leave.

"Hump; no goodee," said Yik Kee, but he wouldn't say any more.

At five that evening, when we were at supper, a crowd of twenty-five or thirty men rode up on horseback. Jack came out and met them, inviting them in to take supper, in his generous, hospitable way. They wanted him to go to Denver with them, there was to be a meeting there of importance to ranchmen. The meeting would be at eight. They had brought with them an extra horse for Jack. Mary looked around for Yik Kee to help her, but he had mysteriously disappeared.

I faintly remembered seeing his white, horrified face peering around the barn at the horses. I noted the visitors ate little—the food seemed to choke them. Some of them watched Mary and the baby in a queer sort of way. When Jack, as was his custom, kissed his wife and babies good-by, one of the visitors, an oldish man, coughed huskily, and said: "Blest if I kin stan' this." They all rode off, Jack the merriest of all, waving his hat till he was out of sight.

When we were clearing up the unusual quantity of dishes, Yik Kee appeared at the end window and beckoned me. I followed him out. Ted was with him. Behind the barn were the three horses saddled. Shep was with them, released from confinement, where he had been secured from following his master.

"Foller 'em," said Ted in an excited whisper. "Yik's afraid they're up to something."

"What is it, Yik?" I said, sternly. "No fooling now."

For answer he twisted his long pig-tail around his neck, tying it under his left ear in a significant manner.

"Hump, he hangee; stealee cow."

"Oh, Mary," I sobbed, remembering Gil Mead's visit, and his strange actions, and dimly seeing what Yik Kee meant, "I must tell Mary," I said, wildly.

"Hump, no," said Yik Kee. "Yellee sick," and he closed his eyes in a die-away sort of manner. "Go now—too latee."

We mounted.

"Mother'll think we're gone to ride," said Ted, as we galloped over the plains. He was deathly pale, poor little fellow, but he sat erect and firm. I saw his father's big Colt's revolver sticking out of his pocket. He was a determined boy. Even in my despair, in my wild hope that I could save Jack by begging on my knees, that I could cling to him, that they would have to kill me first, I could not help a smile at the comical figure Yik Kee presented on horseback. His loose garments flapped in the wind, his long pig-tail flew out behind, and he bobbed up and down like a kernel of corn in a corn-hopper.

It was a soft, warm night, lighted only by the pale young moon and the twinkling stars. We rode as fast as our horses could gallop. Shep was close at our heels. Way ahead, when we reached the top of a little hill, we saw the crowd of horsemen. They were riding toward Denver. We galloped on with renewed zeal. They turned into a cross road leading to Mead's ranch. On this road was a bridge over Dry Gulch, which was in the spring a roaring torrent. Beyond the bridge, across the fields, was the hay-stack of Mead, where was stored sufficient to feed his domestic cattle through the winter. We at last reached the turn in the road. They were three miles in advance, riding rapidly. Yik Kee stopped at the turn. "Hump! Can't catchee. Hangee at bridge. You goee!" He turned his horse and sped across the field, deserting us basely.

We rode on, Ted and I. He was pale and still; my cheeks were burning. We neared the bridge. The high mound of earth before us hid us from sight. We stopped our horses and listened. The men had lighted torches, some were preparing a rough gallows under the bridge; two were uncoiling rope; some held the horses of the others beyond the bridge. The men were masked now, and I could see by the lighted torches that this number was increased. Jack was very white and sad, but he showed no fear.

"I am innocent, gentlemen," he said, slowly, "but I refuse to tell you of whom I bought the hides."

I understood him. Could Harry White be a cattle thief? I felt as if I were going mad.

"What shall we do?" whispered Ted, cocking his revolver?

Suddenly a bright red light illuminated the heavens, followed by clouds of black smoke and a queer crackling noise. A yell from the men—Gil Mead's voice above the rest. The hay-stack was on fire. It seemed to me in the gale around it that I could see a foreign-looking human vanishing across the plain.

The men mounted their horses, Gil Mead at the head, and set off across the fields at a mad gallop. They must save the stack. They left Jack, bound hand and foot, and guarded by one man.

Shep, the wonderful dog, had kept by us until now, slinking in the dark shadows. Now, gliding sidewise and still, he reached the man on guard whose back was to us, and with no warning growl caught him by the throat with strong white teeth that could choak a coyote in a second. The man, who was in a sitting posture, fell back with a groan. Ted struck him over the head with the butt of the revolver, and pulled off the dog. I cut Jack's bonds with a knife. He looked at us wonderingly and staggered to his feet.

"Never mind how we came, Jack," I said; "quick, mount the horse beyond the bridge, and ride to Denver for your life. They will not harm a woman and child."

"Harry White," he muttered, the loyal soul that even now could think of another's danger.

"I will tell him."

"No, no; not of this—only say, if he stole the cattle, to fly the country. They will find out, sooner or later."

He galloped down the road. Ted and I mounted, calling off Shep, who sat on his haunches watching the unconscious man, and then we, too, sped down the road. The hay-stack was giving out great columns of black smoke, but the fire was dead.

Ahead of us was a riderless horse, Dolly, who greeted her master with a joyful whinny. Where was Yik Kee? Then Dot, my horse, shied from the road at a recumbent black figure. It was the indomitable Yik Kee, who had crawled all the way from the stack on his stomach, so that he could not be seen, after lying in the ditch till the blaze had faded out. "Hump! no catchee Chinee; heap sore," he said, laconically rubbing his stomach.

He mounted Dolly, and we rode on to White's ranch. Harry rushed out at the sound of horses' feet, at midnight. There, under the twinkling stars I looked into his eyes, and I told him the whole story. He showed no guilt, but only said we must stay the night at his ranch, for the men would come back to Jack's for him, and then mounting his fleet colt rode off down the road. I comforted his mother as best I could. At day-break we rode home.

Mary was in a wild state of alarm. Where had we been? Where was Jack? and how cruel we were to leave her alone. She said that at one o'clock three masked men had come to the house and searched it and the premises, and had not molested her or the children, only asking where Jack was, very sternly and sharply.

At noon Jack, Harry, the sheriff, and a party of armed men from Denver rode up, stopping only a moment to tell me they would be back at night. I dared not tell Mary, and she worried all the afternoon at their strange conduct. At night Jack and Harry came home, looking tired but happy. Then Jack told Mary, and she clung to him as though she could never let him go.

It seemed the pleasing ranchman from Chicago was one of a band of cattle thieves. He sold the hides to Harry, who, honest and open himself, was slow to suspect wrong dealings in others. The sheriff had caught the men skinning a cow that belonged to Mead, and had captured the gang and taken them to Denver.

The men concerned in the attempt to lynch Jack were sincerely sorry. Their regrets would not have availed much, however, if they had succeeded in their purpose. They gave each of the children ten acres of land; they gave Ted sixty-five, and me, whom they pleased to consider very plucky, one hundred and fifty acres. I felt rich enough, and time has made it very valuable land. The man on guard was our warmest admirer. He thought Ted, Shep, and I wonders of courage. He said when I came down on the bridge with the open knife, he thought his last hour had come.

Gil Mead committed suicide not long after this. He was always queer. No one ever knew that Yik Kee set the stack afire. I tell you Jack rewarded the faithful fellow—gave him a good farm, taught him to work it, and built him a house. The funniest thing was Yik Kee had a wife and three queer little children back in China, and Jack sent for them, and Yik Kee and his family are as happy as they can be. The children play with Jack's (he has twelve now) and get along finely together.

In '75 I married Harry White, which, I suppose, was foreseen from the beginning—at least, Jack says anybody could have seen it. The most serene and satisfied face at the wedding was that of the Celestial. In my inner consciousness, notwithstanding he is a "heathen Chinee," I have the conviction that as great a hero as is seen in modern times is the man of few words, Yik Kee.—The Continent.



HUMOROUS

"A LEEDLE MISTAKES."

"I see all how it vhas now," observed Jacob Handonder, as he came out.

"Oh, you do! You are the man who got drunk and raised a fuss on a street car?"

"I vhas der man, and I tell you how it vhas. You see, I vhas tight. I took too much beer."

"Can a saloon-keeper take too much beer?"

"Vhell, maype I vhas seek. I shtart to go home. Vhen der sthreet car comes along I pelief it vhas my house. I got in und look all aroundt, but I doan' see Katarina. I call out for der shildrens, und eferybody laughs at me. Maype dot makes me madt, und der drifer calls a boliceman, und I vhas galloped down here."

"So it wasn't your home?"

"Not oxactly. It vhas a leedle mistake."

"It'll cost you $5."

"Vheel, dot ain't so bad. I pay him oop und go home to preakfast."

"Be careful next time."

"Oh, I vill dot. Next time I vhas tight I go home on some shtreets midout cars. If I take some ice-wagon for my house I pelief I got cooled off pooty queek."



SHARPER THAN A RAZOR.

A long-waisted man, with the nose of a fox and an eye full of speculation, walked up to a second-hand clothier, in Buffalo, the other day, and said:

"See that overcoat hanging out down there?"

"Of course."

"Well, I've taken a fancy to it. It's rather cheeky to ask you to go down there, but I'll make it an object; I won't give but $8 for the coat, but I'll give you $1 to buy it for me. You are also a Jew and know how to beat him down. Here are $9."

The dealer took the money and started off, and in five minutes was back with the coat.

"Good!" chuckled the other. "I reckoned you'd lay him out. How much did you make for your share?"

"Vhell, ash dot is my branch shore, and I only ask six dollar fur de goat, I was about tree dollar ahead."

A COMING DIVIDEND.

Last fall, when a would-be purchaser of railroad stock called upon Russell Sage and asked him regarding the outlook of certain stock, Mr. Sage replied:

"Splendid idea! That stock is certain to raise fifteen per cent."

"Upon what do you base your calculations?"

"Upon the immense crops to be moved along that line."

The other day the same gentleman again interviewed Mr. Sage regarding the same stock, and the great financier replied:

"Best outlook in the world for that stock! Certain to advance fifteen per cent."

"Do you base your calculations upon last fall's crops?"

"No, sir; it's going to be an open winter, and the line will save enough in snow-plows to declare a dividend of five per cent."

* * * * *

At a party: Merchant—"Ah! How d'do, Mr. Blank? How is your paper coming out? I read it daily. By the way, you are getting up a report of this grand assembly, I suppose?" Editor—"No. By the way, how is your store coming on? My cook buys a good deal of you. You are here drumming up custom, I suppose?"

* * * * *

"Yes," said Mrs. Towers, as she expatiated upon the beauties of her flower-garden, "I have given it great care, and if you come over in a week or two, I expect to be able to show you some beautiful scarlet pneumonias."

* * * * *

THE PRAIRIE FARMER

AND

YOUTH'S COMPANION

ONE YEAR, $3 FOR THE TWO.

It is not required that both papers be sent to one address, nor to the same post-office.

Address Prairie Farmer Pub Co.,

150 Monroe Street. Chicago.

* * * * *

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* * * * *

SCALES.

U.S. STANDARD SCALES, MANUFACTURED EXPRESSLY FOR THE PRAIRIE FARMER

Every Scale Guaranteed by the Manufacturers, and by Us, to be Perfect, and to give the Purchaser Satisfaction.

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To any person ordering either size Wagon Scale at prices given below.



2-Ton Wagon or Farm Scale (Platform 6 x 12 feet), $35; 3-Ton (7 x 13), $45; 5-Ton (8 x 14), $55. Beam Box, Brass Beam, Iron Levers, Steel Bearings, and full directions for setting up.

THE PRAIRIE FARMER SENT 1 YEAR FREE!

To any person ordering either of the following Scales, at prices named below.



The Housekeeper's Scale—$4.00

Weighing accurately from 1/4 oz. to 25 lbs. This is also a valuable Scale for Offices for Weighing Mail Matter. Tin Scoop, 50c. extra; Brass 75c. extra.



The Family Scale—$7.00.

Weighs from 1/4 oz. to 240 lbs. Small articles weighed in Scoop, large ones on Platform. Size of Platform, 10-1/2 x 13-1/2 in.



The Prairie Farmer Scale—$10.00

Weighs from 2 oz. to 320 lbs. Size of Platform 14 x 19 inches. A convenient Scale for Small Farmers, Dairymen, etc.



Platform Scales—4 Sizes. 400 lbs., $15; 600 lbs., $20; 900 lbs., $24; 1,200 lbs., $28; Wheels and Axles, $2 extra.

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THE PRAIRIE FARMER PUBLISHING COMPANY, CHICAGO, ILL.

* * * * *

MISCELLANEOUS



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Send for Catalogue and Prices.

ATLAS ENGINE WORKS



INDIANAPOLIS, IND., U.S.A.

MANUFACTURERS OF

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* * * * *

SEEDS

ALBERT DICKINSON,

Dealer in Timothy, Clover, Flax, Hungarian, Millet, Red Top, Blue Grass, Lawn Grass, Orchard Grass, Bird Seeds, &c.

POPCORN.

Warehouses { 115, 117 & 119 Kinzie St. OFFICE. 115 KINZIE ST., { 104, 106, 108, & 110 Michigan St. CHICAGO, ILL.



GENERAL NEWS.

Gen. Butler is now out of office.

A verdict of not guilty was rendered in the Emma Bond case.

St. Petersburg, Russia, is in a panic over recent acts of the Nihilists.

Two wolves have lately been killed in the vicinity of Douglas Park, Chicago.

Another effort is soon to be made in Congress to reinstate Fitz John Porter.

Brokers in Dubuque have offered $330,000 cash for the B.F. Allen Homestead.

At Winnipeg on Thursday of last week the mercury was 45 degrees below zero.

Albert E. Kent, of San Francisco, gives $25,000 for a chemical laboratory at Yale College.

Judge McCrary, of the Supreme Court, has resigned, and accepted a position as a railway attorney.

The Government of China has ordered the construction of two more torpedo boats at the German port of Stettin.

St. Louis had many fires last week. There were nine outbreaks within forty-eight hours. The firemen were completely worn out.

There were 319 failures in the United States last week—the largest number yet recorded within the same number of days.

There was strong talk at Hillsboro of lynching the discharged prisoners in the Emma Bond case, but better counsel prevailed.

Governor Stoneman presided at a meeting in San Francisco, where arrangements were made to hold a world's exposition in 1887.

The mercury at Charleston, S.C., was 13 degrees below zero January 4th. Through New England the weather was extremely cold.

Mary, the seventeenth wife of the late Brigham Young, died at Salt Lake City Saturday from blood poisoning. She has fourteen survivors.

A pie made of tainted meat caused the poisoning of sixteen boarders and three Sisters at a convent in Montreal. Two of the former are dangerously ill.

It is announced from Paris that the French government is intending to sell the railways owned by the Republic. The Rothschilds stand ready to purchase them.

By a railroad accident near Fort Dodge, on Wednesday last, three persons were killed and several wounded. Among the killed was Mrs. J.H. South, of Bureau Co., Ills.

Mrs. Holcomb, daughter of the murdered millionaire Crouch, of Michigan, has committed suicide. There is some suspicion that she knew something about the murder.

A nihilist proclamation has been issued threatening the Czar. There is much anxiety at Gatschina palace. It is now said the Czar's injury in the shoulder the other day was caused by a bullet.

The United States Consul General at Cairo reports the deaths by the cholera epidemic at from 65,000 to 70,000. A member of the international tribunal says there are still from one to three fatal cases each day.

The Gould system of railroads is about to establish a telegraph school at St. Louis, with a view not only to educating operators, but of selecting pupils from the acclimated people along the Southwestern lines.

The Catholic convent at Belleville, Ill., took fire from the furnace Saturday evening, and in an hour was reduced to ashes. Sixty pupils made desperate efforts to escape, some of them leaping from the windows. Twenty-seven lives were lost.

The Secretary of State at Springfield has issued papers of incorporation to Col. Wood's museum, at Chicago, with a capital stock of $100,000. The Colonel is said to have secured a lease of his old stand on Randolph street, and the Olympic Theatre.

Henry Villard closed his business career by handing over to assignees his mansion on Madison square and other property, with instructions to dispose of the same, pay a mortgage of $200,000, and discharge any indebtedness to the Oregon Railway Company, the residue to be given to his wife.

The directors of the Northern Pacific road held a meeting in New York, on Friday, of last week. A letter was read from Henry Villard, resigning the presidency of the company because of nervous prostration and in deference to the interests of the stockholders. The resignation was accepted, and a special election was ordered to choose a successor. The directors voted Mr. Villard $10,000 per annum for his services. Vice President Oakes reported the line in first-class order except one hundred miles near the junction west of Helena. It is understood that the Oregon Navigation company will reduce its dividends to 8 per cent. The Oregon Transcontinental has raised $3,000,000 in Boston with which to lift its floating debt.



MARKETS

MARKET REPORTS.

OFFICE OF THE PRAIRIE FARMER, CHICAGO. Jan 8, 1884.

FINANCIAL AND COMMERCIAL.

The extremely cold weather of the past week interfered with business very generally. In financial circles, as in others, the arctic wave made matters rather quiet. Early in the present week, however, business at the banks was active. The arrival of delayed mail trains added to the volume of business; but while there was much activity, the monetary situation remained about the same as usual.

In the loan market quotations were 6@7 per cent.

Eastern exchange sold at 70@75c per $1,000 premium.

Government securities are as follows:

4's coupons, 1907 Q. Apr. 123-1/4 4's reg., 1907 Q. Apr. 123-1/4 4-1/2's coupon, 1891 Q. Mar. 114-1/8 4-1/2's registered, 1891 Q. Mar. 114-1/8 3's registered Q. Mar. 100

GRAIN AND PROVISIONS.

The leading produce markets have been irregular for several days past, and the tendency, in the main, was downward. Yesterday wheat was moderately active, but the market was depressed at the close. There was a drop, also, in corn, oats, mess pork, and lard.

FLOUR was quiet at about the following rates.

Choice to favorite white winters $5 25 @ 5 50 Fair to good brands of white winters 4 75 @ 5 00 Good to choice red winters 5 00 @ 5 50 Prime to choice springs 4 75 @ 5 00 Good to choice export stock, in sacks, extras 4 25 @ 4 50 Good to choice export stock, double extras 4 50 @ 4 65 Fair to good Minnesota springs 4 50 @ 4 75 Choice to fancy Minnesota springs 5 25 @ 5 75 Patent springs 6 00 @ 6 50 Low grades 2 25 @ 3 50

WHEAT.—Red winter, No. 2 96 @ 98c; car lots of spring, No. 2, sold at 93-3/4 @ 95c; No. 3, do. 77-1/2 @ 81c.

CORN.—Moderately active. Car lots No. 2, 57-3/8 @ 57-5/8c; rejected, 46-1/2; new mixed, 48 @ 48-1/4c.

OATS.—No. 2 in store, closed 33-1/2 @ 33-5/8.

RYE.—May, in store 58 @ 58-1/2.

BARLEY.—No. 2, 62 @ 63c; No. 3, 44c.

FLAX.—Closed at $1 41.

TIMOTHY.—$1 25 per bushel. Little doing.

CLOVER.—Quiet at $5 90 @ 6 15 for prime.

PROVISIONS.—Mess pork, February, $14 45 @ 14 47-1/2 per bbl; May, $15 @ 15 05. Green hams, 8-3/8c, per lb. Short ribs, $7 42-1/2 per cwt.

LARD.—January, $8 75; February, $8 85.

LUMBER.

Lumber unchanged. Quotations for green are as follows:

Short dimension, per M $9 50 @ 10 00 Long dimension, per M 10 00 @ 11 50 Boards and strips, No. 2 11 00 @ 13 00 Boards and strips, medium 13 00 @ 16 00 Boards and strips, No. 1 choice 16 00 @ 20 00 Shingles, standard 2 10 @ 2 20 Shingles, choice 2 25 @ 2 30 Shingles, extra 2 40 @ 2 60 Lath 1 65 @ 1 70

COUNTRY PRODUCE.

NOTE.—The quotations for the articles named in the following list are generally for commission lots of goods and from first hands. While our prices are based as near as may be on the landing or wholesale rates, allowance must be made for selections and the sorting up for store distribution.

BEANS.—Hand picked mediums $2 00 @ 2 10. Hand picked navies, $2 15 @ 2 20.

BUTTER.—Dull and without change. Choice to extra creamery, 32 @ 35c per lb.; fair to good do. 26 @ 30c; fair to choice dairy, 25 @ 30c; common to choice packing stock fresh and sweet, 20 @ 25c; ladle packed 10 @ 13c; fresh made, streaked butter, 9 @ 11c.

BRAN.—Quoted at $11 87-1/2 @ 13 50 per ton; extra choice $13.

BROOM-CORN.—Good to choice hurl 6-1/2 @ 7-1/2c per lb; green self-working 5 @ 6c; red-tipped and pale do. 4 @ 5c; inside and covers 3 @ 4c; common short corn 2-1/2 @ 3-1/2c; crooked, and damaged, 2 @ 4c, according to quality.

CHEESE.—Choice full-cream cheddars 12-1/2 @ 13c per lb; medium quality do. 9 @ 10c; good to prime full cream flats 13 @ 13-3/4c; skimmed cheddars 9 @ 10c; good skimmed flats 6 @ 7c; hard-skimmed and common stock 3 @ 4c.

EGGS.—In a small way the best brands are quotable at 25 @ 26c per dozen; 20 @ 23c for good ice house stock; 18 @ 19c per pickled.

HAY.—No. 1 timothy $10 @ 10 50 per ton; No. 2 do. $8 @ 9; mixed do. $7 @ 8; upland prairie $8 00 @ 10 75; No. 1 prairie $6 @ 7; No. 2 do. $4 50 @ 5 50. Small bales sell at 25 @ 50c per ton more than large bales.

HIDES AND PELTS.—Green-cured light hides 8c per lb; do. heavy cows 8c; No. 2 damaged green-salted hides 6c; green-salted calf 12 @ 12-1/2 cents; green-salted bull 6 c; dry-salted hides 11 cents; No. 2 two-thirds price; No. 1 dry flint 14 @ 14-1/2c. Sheep pelts salable at 28 @ 32c for the estimated amount of wash wool on each pelt. All branded and scratched hides are discounted 15 per cent from the price of No. 1.

HOPS.—Prime to choice New York State hops 25 @ 26c per lb; Pacific coast of 23 @ 26c; fair to good Wisconsin 15 @ 20c.

POULTRY.—Prices for good to choice dry picked and unfrozen lots are: Turkeys 14 @ 15c per lb; chickens 10 @ 11c; ducks 10 @ 12c; geese 9 @ 11c. Thin, undesirable, and frozen stock 2 @ 3c per lb less than these figures; live offerings nominal.

POTATOES.—Good to choice 35 @ 40c per bu. on track; common to fair 25 @ 30c. Illinois sweet potatoes range at $3 @ 3 50 per bbl for yellow. Baltimore stock at $2 25 @ 2 75, and Jerseys at $5. Red are dull and nominal.

TALLOW AND GREASE.—No. 1 country tallow 7@7-1/4c per lb; No. 2 do. 6-1/4 @ 6-1/2 c. Prime white grease 6 @ 6-1/2 c; yellow 5-1/4 @ 5-3/4c: brown 4-1/2@5.

VEGETABLES.—Cabbage, $8 @ 12 per 100; celery, 35 @ 40c per doz bunches; onions, $1 00 @ 1 25 $ bbl for yellow, and $1 for red; turnips, $1 35@ 1 50 per bbl for rutabagas, and $1 00 for white flat.

WOOL.—from store range as follows for bright wools from Wisconsin, Illinois, Michigan, Indiana, and Eastern Iowa—dark Western lots generally ranging at 1 @ 2c per lb. less.

Coarse and dingy tub 25 @ 30 Good medium tub 31 @ 34 Unwashed bucks' fleeces 14 @ 15 Fine unwashed heavy fleeces 18 @ 22 Fine light unwashed heavy fleeces 22 @ 23 Coarse unwashed fleeces 21 @ 22 Low medium unwashed fleeces 24 @ 25 Fine medium unwashed fleeces 26 @ 27 Fine washed fleeces 32 @ 33 Coarse washed fleeces 26 @ 28 Low medium washed fleeces 30 @ 32 Fine medium washed fleeces 34 @ 35

Colorado and Territory wools range as follows:

Lowest grades 14 @ 16 Low medium 18 @ 22 Medium 22 @ 26 Fine 16 @ 24

Wools from New Mexico:

Lowest grades 14 @ 16 Part improved 16 @ 17 Best improved 19 @ 23

Burry from 2c to 10c off: black 2c to 5c off.

LIVE STOCK MARKETS.

The total receipts and shipments for last week were as follows:

Received. Shipped.

Cattle 25,594 13,722 Calves 353 166 Hogs 45,376 31,864 Sheep 14,206 8,903

The live stock receipts are increasing, and show a large gain over last week.

CATTLE.—The receipts for Sunday and Monday were rather large, being estimated at 6,800 head of cattle, as against 3,700 received in the corresponding time last week. Shipping grades of cattle were active and firm yesterday at $5 @ 6 67-1/2, exporters taking a fair number. Common lots were lower, with sales to dressed-beef buyers as low as $4 25. A good share of the day's trading was done at $5 70 @ 6 60. Quotations are as follows:

Fancy fat cattle $ 6 75 @ 7 00 Choice to prime steers 6 05 @ 6 70 Fair to good shipping steers 5 55 @ 6 00 Common to medium steers 4 25 @ 5 50 Butcher's steers 4 50 @ 5 00 Cows and bulls, common to good 3 00 @ 4 25 Inferior cows and bulls 2 00 @ 2 95 Stockers 3 40 @ 4 40 Feeders 4 25 @ 4 75 Milch cows, per head 25 00 @55 00 Veal calves, per 100lbs 4 00 @ 7 25

HOGS.—The receipts Sunday and Monday were estimated at 18,000 hogs, against only 6,700 received in the corresponding time last week. Although the receipts have been increasing during the last few days, supplies are still remarkably small for the first half of January. The great bulk of the crop has undoubtedly been marketed, but there are known to be a very good number still unmarketed, and it is believed that farmers are unwilling to ship freely to this market while packers are so largely inactive, fearing a decline in prices. Shippers have been taking most of the hogs lately. Butchers took in the neighborhood of 1,900 hogs, leaving a few thousand still unsold. Sales were made of heavy at $5 10 @ 6 25; light at $5 10 @ 5 75, and skips and culls at $3 50 @ 5.

Note.—All sales of hogs are made subject to a shrinkage of 40 lbs for piggy sows and 80 lbs for stags. Dead hogs sell for 1-1/2c per lb for weights of 200 and over and for weights of less than 100lbs.

SHEEP.—The market opened with a good supply, the receipts for Sunday and Monday being estimated at 2,500 head, as against 1,968 received in the same time last week. There was an active local and shipping demand for all desirable offerings, and prices ruled firm at the recent advance, sales being made of fair to choice at $3 65 @ 5 60.

* * * * *

COMMISSION MERCHANTS.

J.H. WHITE & CO.,

PRODUCE COMMISSION

106 WATER ST., CHICAGO.

Refers to this paper.

* * * * *

MISCELLANEOUS.

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THE END