smithclay/nortonstories huggingface dataset:
Year: 1868

BUTTER MAKING The market is so gen.
orally disgraced with bad butter that we are
inclined to heep it before the people-that is,
how to make good butter. A writer in the
Rural American, who has made butter for
three score years, says: My mode of making
butter is this Have pals, pans, churn, tray
and ladle well washed, scalded and dried be.
fore using them. Set the milk in tempera'
ture where it will get thick in thirty to forty
hours, then either churn the milk, or take
the cream off and churn it. Milk should
never be permitted to stand until it begins
to whey, as that will impair both quantity
and quality. If cream or milk is too cold,
put into the churn warm water; if too warm.
put in cold water When the butter is pIop-
erly gathered, put in a tray, and put on cold
water, and work with ladle moderately. Pour
off the water and continue the process until
the water looks quite clear. Then salt with
good Ashton salt, working it through the
butter evenly. and pressing out the water or
milk. Set it in a cool place; let it stand
twenty four hours, and work again and pack.
We milk generally from ten to twenty COWS.
In the winter we make just as nice butter as
in summer. We take two carrots. wash them
clean, scrape of the skin, crate them and
pour on half-pint of water; let stand few
minutes, and pour into thin cloth. and
squeeze into the cream before churning.
This is for fifteen pounds of butter. My cows
are kept in a warm stable, aud fed about a
peck of coarse shorts per COW per day. !
put sixty pounds of shorts in tight box
pour on four pals of boiling water, let it
stand short time, if convenient, and then
add six pals of cold water, when mix and
feed. consider this as good as twice the
quantity fed dry.
Year: 1868

In valley near Perranzabuloe. by
"the buried church of the sands" there
is a wild tradition. The wife Of yeoman
named Penna, while bathing her infant
daughter in pool amid the arched rocks
of Perran, suddenly saw the child, as if in
a paroxysm Of joy, leap from her arms
and disappear in the water. The mothers
terror and agony were soon, however, re-
moved by the babe swimming up to the
surface Of the water smiling, aud brighter
and more beautiful than before. The
mother saw no difference in the child, but
the old crones in the village at once dubb-
ed it mermaid's changeling. Years
passed away, as they are in the habit of
passing, and Selma Penna grew up a
beautiful woman. The squire's nephew,
urged by the praises Of nalevolent man,
rejected suitor Of her mothers, saw her,
fell in love with her, and Eeduced her.
Broken. hearted at her disgrace, she died,
and was buried in the churchyard on the
sands. The night after revel, the
squire's nephew (Walter Trewoofe, stray
ing on the sands, heard dirge, and pass
ing round a rock, discovered a beautiful
woman seated at the mouth Of cavern.
She was like his buried love, bat she dis
appeared when he seized her by the hand.
On another visit to the same cavern, the
maiden, as he addressed her, turned into
a mermaid, who seized him in her arms.
A storm rose, the waves broke round the
rock, and Walter Trewoofe found too late
that the vengeance OF the water spirits
had overtaken him. Still the mermaid
clasped him, till the sea washed them both
to the highest pinnacle of the rocks, and
then bore them out to the ocean. That
night, during the 6ercest Of the storm,
the water spirits were seen tossing from
one to another the corpse of the seducer
and destroyer Of one Of their race.
Year: 1868

Find fault, when you must find fault,
in private, if possible, and sometime after
the ofense, rather than ut the time. The
blamed are less inclined to resist when
they are blamed without witnesses. Both
parties are calmer. and the accused person
may be struck with the forbesrance Of the
accuser who has seen the fault, and
watched for private and proper time for
mentioning ii. Never be harsh or unjust
with your children or servants. Firm.
ness, with gentleness of demeanor and a
regard to the feelings, constitutes that
authority which is always respected and
valued. Ii you have any cause to com
plain Of a servant, never speak hastily;
wait. at all events until you have had
time 20 reflect on the nature Of the Of
iense.
Year: 1868

DIp you ever see pretty girl carrying
parasol to shield her face against "the
sunshine of prosperity or man who
had got wet through In consequence OF
''braving the clouds of diversity without
an umbrella?
Year: 1868

MoDEsTr AND PREsUMPrIoN.-The
modest department Of those who are truly
wise, when contrasted with the assuming
air of the young and ignorant, may be
compared to the different appearance Of
wheat, which, while its ear is empty, holds
up its head proudly, but as soon as it is
filled with grain, bends modestly down,
and withdraws from observation.
Year: 1868

ENoR SALE I'm MoRRisANIA. IN A FINE NEfGHBOR


hood handsome Residence the house three story and
basement with extension and wing finished in the best man
ner the grounds nine city lots are laid out In garden with
choce Kinds OF ft barn stables outhousef Ac The
above can be purchased accommodating TERMS with or
without furniture Half the purchase remain on
bond and mortgage required for of For par
eession Immediately.
Year: 1868

One day when crossing the garden of the
Tuileries, in Paris, | saw in the distance a
group of people.


Being desirous to know what it was that
they were regarding with so much interest
| hastened on, and found that the object OF
their attention was - the bird charmer " OF
whom all the world has heard, and who was
now about to give daily repast to his feath-
cred trends.


With his hat on his head, and his cane
under his arm, he stood by himself in the
grand walk, near the ratings of the private
gardens and taking some small pieces OF
bread from his pocket, threw them one by
one in the air.


The sparrows soon came, and as each
piece was thrown, one or the other caught
it before it fell and went off with it.
Sometimes several of them flew at one
piece, and disputed for the possession. Al
others, in their impatience, they flew close
to the face of their benefactor, as if to de-
mand their share.


Shortly several pigeons, who no donbt
had seen their friend from long distance
arrived, and alighted on the ground, the
bird-charmer put morsel of bread between
his lips, and held out his hand one of the
pigeons came aud settled on it. and took
the bread from his mouth then, gently
thrown off by slight movement of the
hand perched on the pedestal of a statue
close by, whilst another pigeon took its
place.


Several birds came thus in succession
and some. whilst waiting their turn, perched
familiarly upon the other arm of the char
mer.


The people who were gathered around
and children who left their play TO look
at this amusing spectacle, did not IN the
least frighten the birds indeed they took
no notice of them, and seemed to see only
this man in whom they had placed their
confidence, and who appeared to have abso-
lutte power over them.


What is the secret of the bird-charmer
which makes him thus the master of these
timid birds


Nothing, certainly, but patience, gentle
ness, and the food which he offers them he
employs no other witchcraft.


No doubt he is very careful not to fright
en- them in any way, not to speak loudly
or to make any rough, hasty gesture. Thus
reaSSuTeu anu Oiiuo hdhC W
come bolder by degrees, till now they re-
gard their protector with the same freedom
and familiarity that they do the trees upon
which they feed, and where they build their
nests,


In India where the love of birds is car
ried so far as to take care of them in hospi
tails when sick or infrm, we find results yet
more surprising There the jays are so
tame they fly freely in at the open doors
and windows of the houses, and species
of sparrow will go and fech any small article
which may be named by their master.


A French traveller of the late century re-
lates that one of the kings of Labor had
large bands of tame pigeons in his palace,
which he had trained to take part in a
mock battle.


He had taught them to range themselves
in phalanx-to attack, pursue, rush into
the thick of the fight, then to return to
Year: 1868

Lucia G.. Calhoun writes in the New
York Ledger of fashionable weddings, and
administers to her sisters reproof which
would be wholesome, if taken, but which,
of course, will have no more effect than
beating a tin pan. There are one or two
newspapers which prepare for their readers
a detailed account of the most fashionable
which take place from time to
time-entering into all the particulars,
from the curl of the groom's moustache to
Year: 1868

The SIAxEsE TwINs.-The Siamese twins,
Chang and Eng, are going to Paris, for the
purpose of having the ligament which has
always united them, divided by a surgical
operation. They have determined to risk a
dissolution of partnership, for fear that at
their advanced age, sixty-nine years, some
disease may attack one and prove fatal to
both. The bond of union is a massive link
of thoroughly normal and perfectly vitalized
integument, situated near the vital organs,
and which the most expert Paris surgeons
decided twenty years ago could not be safely
severed. The result of the experiment will
be awaited with great interest, particularly
by medical and scientific men.
Year: 1868

NEGRO Schools AT ANDERSON WILL
Chaplain Woodwork writes from Ander-


sonville:


More than two years ago the Ameri-
can Missionary Association decided to
establish colored schools at Andersonviile.


But who would 60? Miss s. NJ. Battey, of


Providence heard that teacher was desired
for the place, and at once volunteered her
services, though before she had had no in
clination for the work She was accepted.
and started for her field, expecting to go
alone; but she was agreeably disappointed
to find that two other ladies had been COM
missione1 to be her associates. The op-
position they met would have deferred les.
resolute minds The rebels were fufious,
and declared that they should not start a
negro school there. They resorted to all
sorts of means to intimidate the girls, sur
rounding the house, night after night,
howilng like demons, and uttering all the
filth and blasphemy of which the lowest ma
lures are capable.


:" Miss Battey told me that she had seen
a dozen faces looking into her window of
an evening, as sinister and malignant as
she had ever conceived. For six months
she slept with her revolver under her pill
low,expecting any night they might attempt
to carry out their threats of what was worse
than death. But they never went to ex-
tremities evidently having a wholesome
fear of that sweet-faced, quiet girl, who
had set herself down in their midst, to do
work for Christ and the poor. The victory
was long since won, and the girls are now
in undisturbed possession of the field, hav-
ing a day school seventy-fve, and night
school of forty. In addition to this they
have gathered the people together on the
Sabbath, and spoken to them the words of
eternal life, and some of them they have led
to Christ When | was there we had in
tended to form a Congregational church,
but as those who should have composed it
could not be got together during our brief
stay. the idea was abandoned for the time,
but it will be carried out ere long"
Year: 1868

THE REDBREAsT.-'' \ robin,' says Mr.
Jesse, lately began its nest in myrtle,
which was placed in the hall of house
belonging to a friend of mine in HAMPSHIRE
As the situation was considered rather an
Objectionable one, the nest was removed
The bird then began to build another on
the cornice of the drawing-room, but as
this was a still more violent intrusion, it was
not allowed to be completed. The robin.
thus baf1ed IN two attempts, began third
nest in new shoe, which was placed on a
shelf in my friend drawing-room. 1t was
permitted to 90 on with its work until the
nest was completed but as the new shoe
was likely to be wanted, and as it would
not be benefited by being used as cradle,
the nest was carefully taken out and depos-
tied in an old shoe, which was put in the
situation of the new one. Here what
remained TO be done was completed; the
under part of the shoe was filled with oak
leaves, the eggs were deposited in the nest,
and in due time hatched, the windows of the
room being always left little open for the
entrance and egress of the birds. My friend
informed that 1t wac pleasing to 500 the
great confidence the robins placed in him.
Sometimes in the morning, the old birds
would settle on the top of his glass, nor
did they seem the least alarmed at his
presence"
Year: 1868

After four months Of constant tray
ei and public reading Mr.. Dickens has
said farewell to A erica. 1T is sad
to do almost anything that is not
wrong for the last time: and | cannot
conceal it from you, that, although
my face viii soon be turned toward
my native land and to all that makes it
dear, 1t IS a sad consideration with me
that in very few moments from this
time this brilliant ball and all that 1t
contains viii fade from my view for
evermore." The sadness of the part
ing is shared by all who have ever felt
the exquisite spell of his rare genius,
and who feel that he is to be classed
among the true human benefRrtcrs.


There has, unquestionablv, been a
certain GOODNESS of feeling toward Mr..
Dickens npon the part of many who
should be naturally his warm friends.
But we think no one who reads. GER
tainly ne. one who heard. the frank.
manly and generous speech. which he
made at the Press Dinner in New
York, will any longer allow the
least cloud to chill the ardor Of his
admiration for one Of the greatest hu-
moristS and most delightful authors in
literature. His last reading in New
\ orll and in the country was almost
painfully interesting. His personal
suffering, which compelled him to keep
one foot upon a chair during the even.
ing, and the shadow Of the one word
which. as he said at parting. had been
impending over the whole reading.
made the occasion very touching and
memorable. Returning slowly, after
ali was ended, and in Difference to the
enthusiastic applause, to the quaint
little table, which was covered with
beautiful hewers, in wreaths and bass
kets and bouquets, he began to speak
amidst the profound silence of the vast
audience. His voice trembled. and
neither he nor his hearers could smile
at the little iests The mement was
too solemn. 1t was the final personal
farewell to a great nation of one whose
name is familiar and beloved but
whose futr life, as he said, lies over
the sea Mr.. Dickens visit has been
both wise and fortunate And we be-
lIeve he viii never regret the deter
mination he made TO come once more
in his maturity to see the country
which he had seen and Judged as a
younger man.-Uaypers Weekly.
Year: 1868

You ought to be ashamed to be so
thoughtless of me when you owe me
so much. Yes, indeed, if I hadn't
adopted YOU you been nothing but
a pauper now and all you are re-
quired to do in return is just the lit.
tie work we two make, YOU migrate
ful thing -


Don't say that I'm ungrateful.n
returned the young girl, half peteous-
ly, yet with mortified look. Its
my earnest wish to please you al
WAYS.


Remember what you're about
another time, then" was the curt re-
ply. as the cover went slamming
back into the fue.


During the words, Susy had turned
her back to Durbv, but as he rose,
taking the bundle, he saw that her
eyes were full of tears and her bos-
ON heaving. The old man compress
ed his hips harder, and his ewes flash
ed worse than the had done during
the heartless harangue of the old 'vix-
en- overhead; and he was about vent
ing his feelings into words, when he
controlled himself, and said earnest
ly:


Poor child good little one! re.
mem Der. Won will be rewarded and
blessed for your kindness to the old
beggar Goodnight - And he
walked quickly away.


1t was eight o'clock that evening,
when, having seen her peevish bene-
factress comfortable sleeping, for it
was one of her duties to read to her
until then, that Susy descended into
the sitting and there weeping
softly but bitterly, she sank into
chair.


80! o." she groaned Il had rath-
er die than live here, and have her
always upbraid and remind me of nv
poverty-and I've tried so hard to
deserve whatever she has done for me.
Who can it be ?' and she started up
al the tinkle of the door-belI. with
the blood rushing in tides to her
sweet face vet, few seconds later,
outwardly calm, but with rain still
a her heart. she was ushering Jack
Derby into the sitting-room and you
can guess his errand there when |
tell you nat a month afterward
there was a wedding a the Derby
mansion, after which its merry old
owner gave Susy a kiss, and fondly
exclaimed


My dear little daughter y
Year: 1868

FIFTEEN ARRESTS were made in Rock
Island, on Wednesday evening, of harvest
hands who we're sleeping on the streets in
order to b ready for the morning train. We
suppose the eternal justice Of that city
would have men sleep in dsors during such
hst weather. Our police are not 90 hard up
for fees as to arrest men for making the
mother earth their resting place and the
canopy Of heaven their bed curtains.
Year: 1868




IN the vicinity OF Spoon rirer in Illinois, Is child
That was born and has lived five years without head
Mrs -, the mother, is the widow of !, soldier for
merly living in Marshall county, WHO enlisted in the
sxtyhfth Or Scotch regiment, and was killed al the
battle o. DevIngton, Mo. She was standing by her
husband during the engagement, when cannon bail
carried his head completely away his body falling into
her arms, and covering her with blood The Shock
affected her greatly When her child was born there
was not semhla"ce Of head about it, The limbs
are perfectly developed the long and the sionl
ders, where the head and neck should be- Smoothly
rounded Of


Bntthe most surprising thing Of all is that the face
iS situated in the breast. Of course there being no
meek, the power of turning its lead is wanting eSeent
ashe ~hoe body Is moved but this dittcnliys is over
come oy the singular faculty it possesses of turning
l's eyes m their sockets enabling it TO see onte as
well on either side those more perfectly formed


he upper portion Of its body is white a. the purest
caucasian from the waist downward il is blood red


ms strange creature now an active boy of five years
old' as to compensate for his deformtv possesses
Inc most clear and bird like tones ever listened to
singing with singular correctness everything it NAV
ana It's voiee at this early age aceomplishes two
octares easily ~
Year: 1868

GRANTS PoLIcY-A Brothers Statement e.
| Washington dispatch of tie 10TH


Every little straw is gathered now to show tie nrob
able policy of the General after his Inauguration, Here
are two OF them: In the railroad car from Chicago
the Other day gentleman said to Grant .Geueral T
hope when you in Office you will let us have neace


nfact as well as in name" To this the General an.
s"ered, " You may be sure will, sir. shall make
peace and solid peace which will satisfy all GOOD
men North, South, East and West" A brother Of
ten Grant, who lives in Chicago is reported to have
SAID few days ago that Grant intends TO enforce tho
reconstruction laws to the letter SO far as that ntx
may De hequeathed him BY the present administration
Perhaps by the time OF his Inauguration the Whole


BUSINESS OF reconstruction will have been disposed of
out ilo according to this aterna authority Grant
WI" execute them strictly. The reason alleged for this
Is that braat hola that the will Of the people is tfa
'aw OF the land, and that in the election Just decided
tf'e people expressed their will TO have these recon
Straetlon measures enforced by inorsng the measures
ano Platform Of the Republican party. From his nat.
us houesty ne does not presume to think that it was
ms personal popularity that impeled the people to
give the Radical tckea majority decided but rather
that 1t was due to their Endorsement of Congress- and
lis policy. So says Grants brother
Year: 1868

OF all the many privileges graciously
bestowed upon Christians by their Divine
Master, there is not one more precious
than that of trusting in Him. 1t matters
not what the exigency may be, under
whatever trials, dangers or difficulties we
may be laboring, it is our privilege to
put our trust in, and cast our care upon
him, with the full assurance that che
careth for us, and will protect us from
harm, so far as he, in his infinite wisdom
may see it to be best for us, and support us
under whatever may be necessary for our
publication and growth in grace. Here
all our desires are bounded by the will of
God. We cannot even desire release
from suffering, only so far as is consisH
tent with his righteous will. They all
centre in the one desire, for the promo
ton of his glory and the advancement of
his kingdom; and if these may be best
promoted by our suffering, we can only
say, "Thy will be DONE" This state of
confding trust in God, and resignation
to his will, is beautifully expressed by
the poet:-


GO This day be bread, and peace my lot;
All else beneath the sun,


Thou knowest if best bestowed or not,


And let thy will be done"
Year: 1868

LETTER I.-INTRODUCTORY.


My Dear F.--In beginning this Sc
ries of letters to you and others, who
like you are on the point of entering
upon the active duties of manhood, let
me bespeak your kind indulgence, and
ask you to preserve and ponder what l
may be inclined to write.


While many of your young cOmpan-
ions were idling their time away, you
were busily preparing for college, and
have already reaped part of your re-
ward. The harvest has matured, and the
golden grain been garnered-not in such
abundance as more judicious culture
might have secured; but still as an earn
est of what the future may yield to
steady, well-directed labor.


1t has been some years since l mingled
in the sports of the campus, and the
studies of the classroom. l am not
old, but old enough to have heard the
stirring call of duty to lifeof practical
effort, old enough to have walked up
from the dreams of my earlier years to
the stern and rugged realities of man
hood. Like many who have gone before
me, and many who now surround me, my
reverie is dissipated, and my time and
my thoughts are now occupied with those
living problems, which are of vital i'm
portance to the common humanity.


You may well imagine, therefore, that
am not what l once was; that in many
respects l am different from what | was,
when my Alma Mater sent me forth from
her classic shades, loaded with her con-
gratulations and her benediction. In its
noiseless passage, time changes the most
stable works in nature, and would change
rs too, even were there no other forces
bearing upon us. But apart from the
revolutionizing effects of time, it is i'm
possible to live in world like this with
out being affected by the subtle influences
which are always silently radiating from
thousand forms of activity around us.


No doubt man has within himself the
elements of a distinctive, individual
character; and it is his duty to train
these into the greatest strength and
beauty of which they are capable. But
this very process of development, even il
altogether uninfuenced from without
would often make manhood entirely diff
ferent from youth. How much greater