The Glamorgan Gazette

THE WUMAN AND THE RACES AN AMERICAN SKETCH. It was iD. Oakland. Off in the distance the band was placing "In the Bowery." The woman sat sewing in a room in a big building on Broadwav. She was doing light housekeeping. which meant that the smaller of the two rooms- she had rented might be converted at will into a dining-room bv the aid of a Japanese screen around the gas stove.* and silkaline draperies over the shelves of'dishes and tins. The larger, with the help of the canary bird in some window, and the ferns and geraniums in the other, with the folding bed with its deceptive plate glass mirror in one corner, the upright piano in another and the sewing machine between the windows, with the knicknacfcs and fancy work and general air of coziness, was certainly a very cheerful combination of parlour, sitting-room and bed-room. The woman was a novice in the artof light housekeeping. She had been evolved into it through multitudinous phases of California life, and after a two weeks' trial she had concluded that nothing could be more delightful. The band had stopped playing some time ago. Suddenly it, began again, just underher window, wish a lively, old-fashioned air, so old that she had for- gotten the name of it; but she kept time with her foot, and looked down into the street to see what was going on. On the white canvas on the sides of the band waggon, In glaring red, were half a dozen or eo letters, hieroglyphics to her. and underneath them the words, Races To-Day." The band went on up the street, and the woman sat looking after it, still keeping time with her foot. She remembered where she had heard the tune then. Along with the music came back a hazy recollection of her childhood; a scene of wild excitement, fine horses and carriages, gaily dressed women and fine, looking men, blue sky overhead and glorious sunshine all around, music, shouting, cheering, clapping of hands, and through all and pervading all the vendors of "lemonade, sars'prilla and Queen Charlotte, peanuts, popcorn and candy the great event of the year—the county fair. The strains of the old-fashioned air grew fainter and fainter, but the recollection of her childhood grew stronger and stronger. The woman glanced about the room in half disgust. Light housekeeping was very pleasant, to be sure, but still it was hum- drum. One needed some little excitement. She would go to the races. To think was to act. It required very little urging to induce Grandma Thompson, who also did light housekeeping in the same building, to don her best alpaca and go with her. Grandma Thompson's age was an unknown quantity, which the discrepancy between her wrinkles and her black wig rendered still more unsalvable; but her heart was young, and she had no prejudice against attending races. So the woman went on her way rejoicing, and in the hall stumbled over a small boy who belonged to the dressmaker on the third floor, and whom, in remem- brance of her own childish delight, she resolved to take to the races. There could hardly have been a more perfect day, and the woman's spirits rose as they waited for the car at the corner. She had even a notion to buy a bag of peanuts from the stand there, but refrained, realising that it would be more fun eating peanuts at the races. When they boarded the car the first revulsion of feeling came. Her childish recollection was of fine horses and carriages. Going to the races in a street car did not seem just the thing, after all. But she dismissed the thought in anticipation of the joys to come, and when they arrived' at the track she entered the big gate in eager expectancy of a renewal of the old delights. Evidently they were early, for with the exception of the boys with programmes and a few stragglers here and there, there seemed nobodv about. Up toward the grand stand it was a bit livelier, however. There was a gay coloured wheel of fortune there, with a knot of men about it, and in a booth opposite, near the judges'stand, a man was trying to enthuse another group into buying pools on the favourites. She went on up to the grand stand. The boy who took the money and gave checks for their seats was new to the business, and it. took him a woeful while to tear off the checks and make the change. And r»ll the while the woman's spirits kept sinking lower and lower. When they had climbed the somewhat rickety stairs they found they had ample choice of seats, for the stand was empty. Evidently it was very early, thought the woman, and leaned over the railing to look down on the carriages below. But bevond half a dozen buggies or so there was nothing there. "Patience!" thought the woman, with a little shiver, as the band began to play "After the Ball," and the reporters filed into the stand reserved for the press. A group of women and children came straggling into the stand, and after them another group, and behind them a man in a linen coat, with a trav. which he thumbed softly as he called, Ice cold lemoaade, sars'parilla and soda water hot or cold drinks heie But nobody responded, and he went downstairs again. Then the bell sounded for the first race. There WAS jurt a semblance of excitement as they picked out their favourites and waited for the signal to "go!" A few more people came into the stand, and a few more buggies below and when the man with the tray came up again the woman ordered peanuts for the boy. Then she settled back to await the tingle of excitement that must permeate even these serious-faced spectators during the home stretch. Her horse did not win the first heat. but her faith in her judgment of horseflesh did not. weaken at that, and she even ventured a small bet. with a mildly enthusiastic girl beside her on the final issue. Ice cold lemonade, sars'parilla and soda wafer— hot or cold drinks here!" The boy taid he was thirsty, so she ordered lemon- ade for him, 8',nd a bag of candy for Grandma Thompson and herself. Her horse won the second heat, and the third also, and she felt a gratified sense of superior judgment, over the girl beside her. The stand was about a fourth filled: there were several nice-looking teams down below, a considerable increase of buggies and poorer-looking vehicles, and the groups of men about the pool sellers wor<i certainly much larger: still the woman said to her- self that there was nothing to remind her of hor childish recollection except the blue sky overhead and the warrosunshiny air. In between the heats came equestrian exhibitions by a woman with a French name and wonderful horses which were a joy to look at. The boy declared they were nicer'n circus horses," and the woman was trying to fix into definite shape certain vague, visionary impressions floating through her mind as to whether life as an equestrienne, with the love and obedience of four or five noble horses, with the dash and er.citfl- ment of rh1:'6 course and fair grounds, might not be vastly more interesting than "light house-keeping" and respectable decorum, when the fourth heat was called. Her horniest it, to the eminent satisfaction of the girl beside her, who, however, paid over hpr nickel solemnly at the end of the fifth heat, and the woman invested in chewing gum for the crowd, Grandma Thompson excepted. Then came tho exhibition of the beautiful Russian horses, and after the special race following, the equestrienne was to exhibit her wonderful jumping horse also the little Welsh pony. During the preparation for this there was a scampcring across the track to the inside fence of small boys in patched trousers and overalls, gingham jumpers and made-over jackets, broad-brimmed hats and hats without auy brim, a motley crowd of joyous, expec- tant, youngsters and when they were ranged a Inng the topmost rail, in the serene and beatific indepen- dence which only the small boy knows, the well dressed boy in the grand stand was consumed with envy and discontent at his surroundings. The woman felt, for him, hut she was responsible to the dressmaker for his return sound in neck and limb. So she directed his attention to a tlock of wild geese overhead, with their musical calling Look out for rain It's going to rain The jumping horse and the jumping pony were worth all the rest of the show, so the small boy averred, with an ecstatic sigh when it was over, 'speshully the pony." 0. Ice cold lemonade, sars'parilla and soda water, hot or cold drinks here, clam chowder, pork and beans, anything!" shouted the man in the linen coat, with a despairing wave of the tray towards the phlegmatic crowd, but nobody responded. There w?\s no use waiting for the rest the best was over, and it was getting late. The woman felt chilled and stiff, and neuralgia pains were shooting through her temples and behind her ears. Grandma Thompson'# black wig waa hidden under the voluminous folds of a brown cotton veil, and the wrinkles showed in ghastly relief in the dying sun- light. All the other women in the car' looked tired and careworn. Only the boy munched candy tire- lessly, and wished he had a pony like that." When the woman had seen Grandma Thompson safely inside her door, she smiled a cheery good- nig-ht," to the boy, trudging up the third flight to his mother. Then she unlocked the door of her combi- nation kitchen and dining-room, lit the gas stove and put the teakettle on. She went into the bedroom and took off her hat and veil, and as she stood absently prinking up her bangs with her hat pin, on a sudden she felt the tears trickling down her face. She did not know exactly why she cried. She was tired, and her head ached dreadfully. A melancholy fragment from Tennyson kept droning itself through her mind, giving n sort of voice to her feelings, and a mors reasonable excuse for crying: Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean. Tears from the depth of some divine despair Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes, In looking on the happy autumn fields. Atid tfciflxR- ui, tiiijiuitthst are no wore." She found herself crying harder as she repeated the lines that relieved her considerably, and presently the could eten smile at her own silliness, as she wiped the tears away and went back to the kitchen to set about getting dinner. When she had eaten it, the neuralgic twinges grew Jess and less sharp, and she felt better able to view life from a philosophical and rational standpoint. And when the little dressmaker came in to thank her for the pleasure she had given her boy in retrospect the afternoon appeared quite charming, and she found herself entering into an enthusiastic discussion of horses and horse-racing, to the edification of her visitor. For of such is the nature of woman.

FUX AND FAXCY. WIIEX is iron like a bank-note ?— -When it is forged. When is iron like a stone throwa in'o the sir?— When it is cast. When is it like a public-house ?— When it's a bar. When would it do to make sausages of ?—When it's pig iron. HE: "Speakitig of their marriage. I think they both made a very good match." She How can you say so? Why she is brimstone personified, and he's a perfect stick!" He: "Brimstone an-la perfect stick precisely the essentials to a good match." SIH POMJ'KV BEOEIX, poking the lire in his smoking room: "This wretched chimney lias got into a most objectionable way of smoking! I can't cure it!" Bedell, junior: Just give it a couple of your cigars, governor: it'll never smoke again WANTED—a strong boy for bottling." is the adver- tisement. in a daily paper. Why a strong boy should be preferable to a weak one for bottling we are left to conjecture. Possibly because the world can spare the strong boy better. Slit," called a lady passenger in a tramear, as she signalled the conductor to stopr" didnt I fell you I wanted to get out at F street?"' I remember that you did," stammered toe man. "And you have carried me three or four streets beyond. Is this the way you attend to your busi- ness ?" "I—I—beg "I shall certnirlv send a complaint to the office!" she observed as she made ready to step off. "Madam, let me explain. Every- one in the car was admiring your beautiful bonnet and wrap, and 1 was so charmed myself that I really forgot, my duty. If you would overlook——" "Was that the reason ? Ah I see, conductor. Your duties are very exacting and onerous, and I shall not add to the situation by any complaints." HE was a Yorkshireman up in London for the first time, and as he strolled alone Holbom for the first time, with his trusty tyke by his side, he became fascinated by the sight of a fishmonger's large open windows in which there were displayed a number of particularly fine crabs. Are those crabs alive ? he asked the fishmonger. "Yes, sir," said the man, and spotting a countryman he said, Put your finger here and try." "No, thank you," replied the Yorkshire- man, but I don t mind putting my dog's tail there to see if they pinch. "Very well, sir," and the experiment was tried. No sooner had the crab gripped the dog's tail than the animal bolted at full speed. Hi, tbere," said the fishmonger, growing alarmed, whistle to your dog he's gone off with my crab." Not I," replied the Yorkshireman. "You whistle to your crab. That night the York shireman had crab for his supper, and the fishmonger had to write one shilling and sixpence off his books as a bad debt. SHE: "You shouldn't make a face when you have found a bad oyster. It shows bad tastè." lie: Yes, I think it does." STVIUNI' Goodness gracious, what lucky men these millionaires are Just think of the money they can borrow." WIFE: Why, John, not ready for church yet?" Husband: "Oh, I can't th:r.k of church this morn- ing. I'm not half through the Sunday papers yet." YOUR brother, the dentist, is very slow and tortur- ing at pulling out teefh." I know he is but you see he's rich, and only follows the business for the pleasure it gives him." HELLO, Shanks Did yer hear dat Jimmy Jink's dad is dead?" "No. Did he leave Jimmy any- thing?" I dunno: but I guess he didn't leave him nuthin' but a orphan." Sun: Well, love is a lottery." TIe: "I don't. think so. Would a fellow with only a sovereign in his pocket have much chance with you [" GAME DEALER: "Sorry we're quite sold out of game. Try some of our famous sausages." Sports- man: "Oh! hang it" man. I can't shoot sausages." Miss MAIDENLY I can't understand why you want to go out so often. You have had two nights off this week," Mary Yes, miss but you would want ter if you was younger." MERCHANT: Yes, Quills kept my books so well that I made him cashier." Friend: "How did he do that?" Merchant: "Excellently. He kept the cash." Vrsrron (in a country chapel): Why do you put the choir so high up in the gallery?" Deacon: Because the bass has such a deep voice that nobody could hear him unless they sat in the cellar." DOWSKY "I hear that Billy New has married a dressmaker. I should think* it would be an econo- mical marriage." Rowney: "Not. at all. He says she sends herse.lf a bill every month, and comes round regularly to collect it." "WHAT do you-mean by a cat and a dog life? Look at Carlo and Kitty asleep on the rug. I wish men lived half as peacefully with their wives," Ah," said the lady, "tie them together and see how they will agree." [ TJIAT was a triumphal appeal of the Irish lover of antiquity, who, in arguing the superiority of old architecture over the new, said: "Where will you find any modern building that has lasted so long as the ancient ?" THE chap who stencils bales and boxes is decidedly a man of mark. WK.KS said he could play at whist, because he mis- took a king for a knave. Mv character, sir," said an alderman who had cleared himself from a charge of bribery, "is like my boots—all the brighter for blacking." "A mnI, is always a girl," says a writer in one of the magazines. Thank Heaven We wouldn't have her anything else for anything in this world. LITTER BEss: "Fred. I'm to write a composition on dogs. Tell me something about dogs. Master Fred: Well, fleas are always about dogs." GI.NTI.F.MAN If you will get my coat done by Saturday. I shall be for ever indebted to you." Tailor: "Oh. if that's your game it won t be done." CAU.EI: (to Mrs. Ilendricks): "Your daughter's husband is an A.M., is he not, Mrs. Hendricks ?" Mrs. Hendricks (a trifle sourly) Yes, he is about a two o'clock A.M." "WHAT caused Chappie's wrath yesterday?"' "A man on a crowded hof-p car got up and offered him his seat. Said he could see Chappie was disguised." A FOOTMAx, proud of his grammar, ushered into the drawing-room a Mr. Foote and his two daughters with this introduction—" Mr. and the two Miss- Feet." "JUST see that trombone player. His face is red as a beet from blowing hard." "Yes, he certainly ought to know what is meant by strains of music. DOCTOR," said the sufferer, as he dropped into the dentist's chair, my nerve is completely gone." "Oh no, it isn't," was the cheerful reply. "Wait till I get a firm hold and you'll realise your mistake." KARL," protested his father, you'll have to stojv this spending business. You act as though you were the son of a millionaire." And are you," returned the young man, going to hold me responsible that I am not?" IF I wasn't a girl," said she, I think I'd like to be a lieutenant of hussars." Why, that's unneces- sary, fraulein," replied the young soldier, gallantly: "yon re sufficiently irresistible as it is." TIIE countess gets tired of the long, weary, dreary play and lean's her box preparatory to going home. Outside the door she finds her servant, sent to attend her, asleep against the wall. Poor fellow," she genlly murmurs, I suppose he must have been listening to it, too." THE Hungarians have a national dance, Th:- osardus—intended to represent the unquiet course of true love." We have never seen the dance, but pre- sume the greater part of it consists of an elderly gentleman kicking a young man off the front steps. A MAX was taking aim at a hawk that was perched on a tree near his chicken coop. when his daughter exclaimed, Don'tailll. pa let it go off by accident." Why so ?" asked the father. "'Cause every gun that goes off by accident always kills somebody,' ex- claimed the child. THE cream of a joke would be lost upon a milkman —he wouldn't know what it was. MAX wants but little here below. But he alwavs wants that littb more than he's got. SPEAKTVO of coincidences, it is worthy of remark that kiss, miss and bliss rhyme felicitously. JILLS ox says that the man who is habitually non- committal has no business on a police-court bench. "An, you make light of my pleadings," remarked the rising attorney as he saw the young lady burn his letter of proposal. YISITOU Do you regret the past ?" Convicted counterfeiter "Oh, no. It's what didn't pass that I feel bad about." "POOR BARKER; he's disconsolate." "Why so?" He's lost everything. Can't even buy enough cordage to hang himself." THERE are many improprieties that men commit blindly, but falling asleep in church is one that they start into with their eyes open. HE "Our new school teacher has a very studious eye, hasn't he?" She: "Yes, I presume that its because there is a pupil in it." THIS is not a very good picture of you, Harold." No, 'm I guess it isn't good, 'cause mamma savi 1 was a bad bay that day."

LITERARY EXTRACTS. SOME SECRET ARMS. — In medieval times the dagger-broad, heavy, and with a stout guard for ordinary use—was rendered needle-like and almost gwardless for concealment, and became the poignard. When the civilian and the conspirator took to wear- ing "cellular underclothing" of steel as more con- ductive to longevity the poignard was furnished with a stout triangular or quadrangular point, from which the blade diminished towards the hilt. and became the mail-breaker or it was made quadrangular throughout, and fluted and pierced so as to carry poison or air into a wound, however slight, and so lead to mortification. Then, too, the throat became the assassin's mark. and the upward blow from seventh rib to heart went out of fashion. The Pazzi struck at the neck of Lorenzo the Magnificent, for fear that he wore armour. Strike high." screamed King Jamie, as he struggled with the lluthven, to young Ramsay, dagger in hand, he wears a doublet of proof." When De Loignac and his bravos killed the Duke of Guise at Blois, their victim was first struck in the throat from behind. In later days every Spanish lady was supposed to carry a stiletto—dainty, bright, sharp as a needle, in her garter or waist-belt—and the Italian dame was seldom without her scissors. These scissors, made in Turkey and Persia, had sharply pointed straight blades of semi-circular section, which, wheu closed, formed a poignard blade double-edged and strong, capable- of piercing a buff-coat, while the straight stems afforded a grip, and the diminutive finger loops acted as a pommel. Many a time in the fiery East and the sunny south alike has a blow with the scissors drawn from the harmless-looking ease thru st through the girdle settled a dispute or avenged a wrong nay, such scissors have rendered vacant the throne of Turkey. In England and Scotland the bodkin, or mercer, immortalised bv Hamlet, which even now finds a place in a lady's workbasket, and the hairpin, now termed a bonnet- pin, replaced the more finished weapons of the Southern dames. The bride she drew a long bodkin Frae out her gay headgear, And strak Fair Annet into the heart— That word she never spak mair. —Saturday ]?ri\:cw. NEARLY LOST.-It was on the oOih of October, 1888, that Lobengula set his mark to the famous concession obtained from him by Mr. HlIdd, Mr. Rochefort Maguire, now M.P., and Mr. F. B. Thompson. In the earliest days of its existence the concession came near to being lost in circumstances which illustrate the romance of life on the Dark Continent. Mr. Rudd, with the precious document sewn within his shirt, set off southward to carry the glad news that the difficult and delicate task was safely accomplished. Hampered by the slow move- ment of his escort, he determined to ride on in advance, taking with him provision calculated to sene him as far as Palapye. He I-, ?t his way, and for five days wandered hopelessly amid the boundless veldt. There came a time when he could no longer sit his tired horse. Only one thing remained for him, and that was to lie down and die. This he pre e prepared to do. First, with feeble hands, lie dug a hole in the ground, buried the concession, and. in a few lines painfully scribbled as a farewell to his wife, gave the clue to its hiding-place. Some hours latera Kaffir, by rare chance crossing that way, found Mr. Rudd apparently £ ead. But he was only sleeping, and food and water being forthcoming, he was able to continue his journey to the Cape, carrying his prize with him.-H. if. Iwy in fhv Fortnightly Hai, /I'. R-EAIIY FOR SAcniDCE.—"I was once sorely tempted to allow a sati," said the resident, spreading a dust cloth over our knees. "Long ago. as I was making my tour of inspection, I camped :'t'nr the castle of a; little chieftain. In the morning 1 heard that lie was dead. Whenhisfather had died, some 10 years before, his 18 wives had been burned. I did not wish this incident to recur remained in the neighbourhood, and took the necessary precaution. Next day after breakfast I was told that a lady wished to speak to me, and, passing into my shemiana, I found a tall native lady, closely veiled, with two female attendants. Sahib ske cried to me, there is an order out in your name, separating me from my lord. We have always heard that the English is a good and just Government, which will not oppress the weak, therefore I cannot believe this great wickedness of you. For years have I been at my lord's hand to cherish and comfort him never have I failed him in his need; now my lord has gone on his long journey, to- day, he yet lingereth, but he will soon be gone, whither, if I join him not now. I shall never find him, and through all the ages he will wander alone! Will you, who are not of our people, dnre to do iliis thing ? His father is there, and his father, and their wives, and they will mock him, saving, Wert thou on earth of such small account that no woman accompanies tbee across the barrier? and that proud woman, the daughter of the Sesodias. was she afraid of the fire, like a Nautch girl?" Sahib! I shall seem unto them as a coward and a deserter, and shame will be on my lord and on inv father's house, and on me. Do not do this act of oppression." I longed, he said, to give the permission she wanted, for indeed it did seejn to me an act of oppression to lay a hand on the customs, nay, the very heart beats of a people, and say. Stop not your way, my way The life and customs of a people are built up together, depend On each other; takeout one brick, the whole edifice is in danger. My cheeks were hot as I explained my impotent sympathy, and it was a relief-when, with a gesture of despair, she swept out of my 'ent. She died that night; there was no su.ti.1/I}'1¡' Bar. THE man who spends most of his days in giving advice to his friends has no need at all to lie awake nights wondering why he isn't popular. W HEX people come to see us, we foolishly prattle, lest we be inhospitable. But things said for conver- sation are chalk eggs. Don't fy tilings. What you arc stands over you the while, and thunders so tiiat I cannot hear what you say to the contrary.—Knu ON AX EXOIXE FooTpLATE.—Fanny Kemble. the actress, was one of the few women who have ridden on a locomotive, George Stephenson being the driver of the engine and her guard. You cannot imagine, she wrote, "how strange it seemed to be journeying .1 ing on thus without any visible cause of progress other than the magical machine with flying white breath and rhvthmical unvarying pace, between these rocky walls, which are already clothed with mosses, ferns, and grasses. hen I closed my eyes this sensation of flying was delightful, and strange beyond description yet, strange as it was, I had a perfect sense of security, and not the slightest fear. At. one time, to exhibit the power of the engine, having met another steam engine, which was uusupplied with water, George Stephenson caused it to be fastened in front of ours; moreover, a waggon laden with timber was also chained to us, and thus propelling the idle steam engine and dragging the loaded waggon which was beside it, and our own carriages full of people behind, this brave little she-dragon of ours flew on." The she-dragon travelled 35 miles an hour, swifter than a bird flies, for they tried the experiment with a snipe." The speed of engines, great as Fanny Kemble thought it then, has been accelerated since, and no woman would be likely now to stand up with her bonnet off drinking the air before her on the foot-plate of a North express engine doing the ">40 miles from Euston to Aberdeen in 12 hours and 15 minutes. Indeed, it is a difficult matter for anyone to get on the footplate at all now. The regulations of every company are dead set against such a privilege. The driver dislikes it; land the fireman hates it quite as much as Lord Bramwell hated a drunkard. The responsibility is altogether too great to be lightly undertaken. It is a privilege that the writer has enjoyed, and at night, too, when everything looked weird, when the shadows flung their gigantic limbs across field and river, and upon hillside when the engine, plunging out of the chaos of the tunnel into the ilaiih and dark- ness of the deep cutting, seemed to shape itself into one's idea of a fiery demon leaping with sardonic glee out of Tartarus, were it not for the rospectuble, contented look of Stubbs, the driver, who is so devoted to his work that he has not time to sin, and never thinks evil so long as he has plenty of fuel for his own stomach and for his engine. But the privilege of riding upon a locomotive is not easily obtained. I had many disappointments before I was permitted, disguised as a fireman s help, in garments, patterned with oil and coal dust, and with a face an.d neck dusky as though I had just come up a pit shaft, to step upon the footplate, and make a pretence of assisting Bob Gaunt, who, with a huge shovel, that seemed to carry nearly a half-cwt. of coal at every lift, was banking up the fire, amid the noise and bustle of the crowded station, and told me in confidence, and with a grin, as the carriage doors were banged to aLd the whistle sounded for away, that we were three minutes behind time, and he reckoned she'd 'ave to 'urrv a bit." No railway company likes to be other- Tylsit. 1 1 ..1_110 linn SOU) The is a the carr foot supr. vibr- nerve, and half expecting every momcm ,1I,1l mo next fierce gust, that finds itself impotent to check the engine's progress, will, in revenge, whirl him off j the footplate into eternity,—" Our Railways," by > John Vendition,

FARMING NOTES. (From the" Agricultural Gazette.") THE HOOT CROPS are very forward, and bid fair to be abundant. Nevef do we remember seeing the coun:ry;;o full of verdure, or corn and grass looking*n;ore luxuriant. The temperature has remained low for the time of the year, but abundance of moisture and sufficient heat to promote growth have been experienced, and their good e.Tects are evident. The contrast between thi. year and last is amazing. If. as we may reasonably hope, we can but have an ordinary summer, we shall see such abundance cf all kinds throughout the country as we have not witnessed for almost t generation. VALVE OF TRR R.OOT CROP. Last winter we were n:)1e to take root crops for sheep-feeding on the land at from 20s. to £:) per acre. In ordinary seasons we can usually take them a\ even less, and when cake is fed it is not uncommon to pay nothing for the roots. On the other hand. we are aware that in the North turnips let at as much as £6 and even £12 per acre, on account of theirheavier weight and the greater est imatien in which they are held. Turnips are worth about 3d. per head per week when let for sheep-fold:ng, and the value per acre will rise with the number of tons. If a turnip crop will keep 100 sheep per acre for one week. its value if disposed of to a grazier is £ 1 t,s,: if it will keep 200 sheep, its letting value for the same purpose is £2 10s.; and if it will support 400 sheep a. week, its value, similarly considered, would be £ 5 per acre. Now. as turnips and swedes will not on an average maintain more than 2uO sheep a week per acre, it is evident that their value for feeding purposes cannot be more than about £210. to £3 per acre. If they are estimated as worth 5s. per ton. then a 10-ton crop wculd also be worth £'2 10s. If 200 sheep eat and waste on an average 203b. of turnips per day. they will eat 12'; tons in one week, and this. again, brings an ordinary 12-ton crop to be capable of maintaining about 200 sheep one week. The value of a turnip crop, therefore, will yarr with the weight per acre and the price of keep, and may be found on basts cf 2d., 3d., or 4d. per week per sheep, according to snpply. The value of swedes is greater than that of white turnips, but. judged by prices usually given for keep in Sonthern England, both are grown at a direct loss although, when the manurial value is taken into account, it may not be a positive loss, but be rather looked upon as a cost on the succeeding barley or oat crop. It must, however, be rememberedthut In estimating the total value of a turnip crop the entire amount resolves itself into three items: First value if let to a customer second, the profit which he hopes to make on the transaction third, the manurial value left on the land. When a farmer lets his turnips he sacri- fices the second of these sources of profit, but if he feeds his own sbeep he secures all three. Again, if a farmer takes turnips to feed on a neighbouring farm he sacrifices the third item. It is, of course, impossible to say what figure maybe employed to represent the profit on the sheep themselves after paying 3d. per week for keep, but in some cases it is considerable, while in others it might prove to be nil. If a farmer feeds turnips upon his own land, and charges hie sheep 3d. per week, and aiso spends 3d. on cake, it is not improbable that his sheep may pay him 3d. per week in addition, or a total increase of from 9d. to lOd. or even Is., which would be satisfactory. Hence, it does not follow that turnips need be grown at a loss, although the general opinion of practical farmere is that they are so grown. It is the riskiness of the turnip crop whnh is the principal cause of loss. A small or failing crop entails nearly the same coste as an abundant one and, as failures are quite as common as abundant or heavy crops, probably the view that the root crop is grown at a loss is correct. In a season like the present there is a prospect of heavy crops of turnips, and this will. we hope, be of great assistance 10 those farmers who both breed and fatten out animals. The business of farming is so complicated that no view can be taken which cannot be turned round and looked at from an opposite direction. Thus a good turnip crop produces high prices, especially of leaa stock, and a failing turnip crop produces a reverse condition of markets. The grazier who needs to purchase cattle or sheep probably does so at greatest advantage when keep is scarce, and he then relies for his profit upon purchasing the cheap foods which art now so freely offered on every market. THE CHEAPEST ROOT CItOP i. obtained on light, clean land after a fodder crop such as rye or trifolium. We have had considerable experience in this system, and find that after a crop of this description tht cultivation of the turnip only amounts to about £3 per acre. Roots after rape fed, or even after roots fed, are also obtained at a much cheaper rate than after foul corn stubbles. Objection* have been urged against tnis system on aeeount of a belief that sheep will not thrive upon a second root crop grown after roots fed. We never doubt the truth of statements really backed by experience, but our own is in this case rather to the contrary, as we find that even lambs will do well upon a second crop of roots taken on the same land. It is evident that if root cultivation can be conducted at a low cost, approximating to £3 per acre, a direct profit on the roots becomes possible, and it must not be forgotten that land which has been double rooted will grow a full crop of corn—such as 80 bushels of oats per acre. It seems evident that we shall need to look more to stock, and less to wheat, as a source of profit, and. were it not for the necessity of a certain amount of wheat straw, the crop might be relinquished altogether with good results. When land has grown a turnip crop, and is in course for wheat, the alternative of a crop of mangel wurzel is worth consideration. If. for | example, we nave fed turnips, or a second growth of rape or cabbage, it is good practice to follow with mangel, because under such a system we may expect some 40 tons per acre. Let this crop be valued at its feeding value per ton. and it will be found to be more < valuable than any wheat crop could possibly be at present prices, even if the straw is sold. We consider mangel wurzel to be worth even 10s. per ton if used for feeding cows, bullocks, or sheep, and, even at 30 tons per acre, this is £15 per acre Besides, there is still the manurial value left on the farm, if not on the field, so that, instead of deteriorating, the holding is improved. Double root cropping produces a state of fertility in land which is sometimes almost injurious, but thete are means of taming land well within the reach of all farmers. Potatoes mav be grown, or mangels may be carted oft' a field and fed elsewhere or even sold when in excess of requirements. PKICE OF POTATOES. We have not experienced the extremelv low prices which we read of with regard to potatoes. The secret appears to lie in not growing too many, and in restricting the area to the requirements of a locality. It is the large grower who is at thenercy of London dealers: but anyone who will be content with three or four acres will find that jM to £4 per ton is generally obtainable. NIVEUSITY OF CTOrS. A little of everything seems good policy. A rick of hay to sell. and a limited area of potatoes to dis- pose of, a few surplus mangel to market, help to in- crease receipts. When land is kept under root and green crops, it is kept up in condition, and a greater variety of live stock can be maintained. Oats are still profitable, and good barley commands a. fair price. In any case, barley is still available as a food for stnck, as of yore, and pays no worse for pig-feeding, because it is cheaper. Peas and beans form an excellent change, and can either be converted into money or into meat, which comes to the same thing. The opportunity of the British farmer scents to be the production of beef at 7d. and mutton at Sd, per lb., with cheap cake and corn, and plenty of green crops of all kinds. A man of great experience Baid in our hearing a short time ago that until corn rose in price there was no hope for farming. "ïrh this statement we cannot agree, as we should then have to give up the idea of making grass land pay. There is no corn there. Arable dairying has proved, we understand, successful in Essex, and there is no reason why this idea should not be pushed a little further. We also still cling to our belief in sheep. They make, if well bred, a better use of their food than cattle, and mutton is dearer than beef. Fat lambs sell well, and a few fat sheep every fortnight bring in money quicker than corn. It is really striking to think that two well-fatted tegs are worth an acre of corn, and then there is what they leave behind them. Corn leaves nothing. The £6 per acre, or perhaps less, leaves the land poor and foul, and nothing but expense to follow. If we look upon tfye cleaning of land for roots as a legacy of debt left us by the wheat crop, instead of, as we seem all disposed to call it, a necessity of root cultivation, we shall be taking a sounder view. Roots are not expensive if grown on clean land, and it is the previous corn which makes root cultivation expensive.

Brnxs.—Children very often suffer from bums, bruises, cuts, and blisters. Many timesa good salve eeded in the nursery or for the schoolchildren, much suffering results from neglect to heal sore cs quickly. A good salve is prepared by melting her loz. of beeswax and loz. of sweet cil. Allow become almost cool then add loz. of spirits of cntine. and mix well toget her. ILY-POLY Punm.NG.—Make a pudding-crust with ounces of suet, or dripping roll it out. leaving .ut three-quarters of an inch thick; top and tail about a pint of gooseberries, lay these on the ro..en- out paste, sprinkle freely with thrown sugar, rail it up like a bolster in a pudding-cloth, tie each end securely, put into quite boiling water, and boil ul AD hour.