than the producer, as through their ignorance greater losses are sustained. A few years ago it used to be customary to indenture boys to capable mechanics for the purpose of having them taught the trade they proposed to follow, and the term of the indenture was rarely for a less period than five years, and often for seven. A good workman well knew that unless a boy put in a good deal of time, he would be a botch, and do more injury than good, hence when a boy was indentured his employer controlled him for a series of years as though he owned him, and as a rule it was for the boy's good. This may have the appearance of barbarism, but it would be better than to have every other boy who undertook to learn a trade prove a regular botch workman. Does a law student or a medical student get through by studying a few weeks or months? Then why should a butter or cheese maker be considered a master workman who has only spent a few months in the factory? I have in mind now a cheese maker who never made a pound of butter in his life, but who was anxious to learn, and for that purpose spent two full weeks in a creamery to learn the modus operandi, and at the end of that time set himself up as a first class workman. Now was he sufficiently educated for the responsible position of butter maker? When we need a doctor or a lawyer, we are very apt to select men of experience, and so it should be with the manufacturers, especially if they desire to place upon the market a salable article. A cheese maker should serve a regular apprenticeship at the business, and when he has graduated be able to give satisfactory reasons for the modes he may employ about his work. But most of the cheese and butter makers are anxious, apparently, to get through their day's work, and do not care for the consequences. If they are lucky enough to make a lot of cheese which happens to suit the market, they are satisfied, and on the other hand, if they, as they term it, are unlucky, they blame the producers with the fault.

I had hoped to be able to give a few points in this paper that might be of value to young men who are about to embark in the dairy business, but I find that I am unable to do so, and therefore beg you to accept the intent for the deed.

In closing let me say to one and all, whatever you do, do

well. Have system about your business; watch details; care for the small things of life; they make the large ones; the details are as important as the great things; begin right and work to some purpose, and success in life is assured; without an aim your work will amount to little.

PLEASANT HOMES MADE HAPPY ONES.

By J. M. SMITH, President State Horticultural Society, Green Bay.

Upon one of the rough, hilly farms of one of the Atlantic states, there stands, or did stand, a few years since, a house, the dwelling place of its owner. It was of fair size, and, with proper surroundings, might have been a comfortable and happy home. On the contrary, everything about it was chilling and forbidding. No lawn or shrubbery in front, no flowers or garden in sight. Not a respectable fence between the house and the highway, or even a lilac bush or a wild rose to bid a silent welcome to the wayfarer, or to relieve the dreary monotony to those who were compelled to make this place their home. Within, the house was as cheerless and destitute of everything but the barest necessaries, as if the owner and his family had been on the verge of starvation. He said he would have no useless gewgaws about him. He dressed in the plainest of clothes, and even these were often dirty, patched or ragged. He lived and compelled those in his house to live upon the cheapest and plainest of food. In manners he was rude, profane and vulgar. Toward his wife and children he was arbitrary and overbearing, and among his hired men he was a tyrant and a savage. His wife, weary and worn out with her burden, lay down and died before the summer of her life was half over, and his children left such a dreary spot as soon as they were able. The owner lived simply to gather property. He died a few years since, leaving an estate valued at $250,000, with no indebtedness. In amassing property in a wild mountain district he was certainly successful; but to him this was all of life. Was such a life worth living?

Let us turn to another picture. Among the schoolmates of my early years was a young lady a few years older than myself. At an early age she married an excellent young man and moved with him to what was then an unbroken wilderness in eastern Michigan. There, in a long, low log cabin they commenced the battle of life together. As the years passed the forest gradually disappeared, and field after field was added to the farm until it was a beautiful one to look upon, as well as a profitable one to its owner. The log cabin still remained, but around it had grown up many shrubs and ornamental trees, and flowers of many colors and varieties nestled about the quiet home from early spring until late in the fall. A beautiful climbing rose had succeeded in hiding nearly all of the logs on one side of the building from view, and was doing its best to hide the roof. How was it within? Let me give you the words of another. A gentleman who owned and lived in the finest mansion in the county called upon her one day, and after chatting a few minutes with her, threw himself upon a very plain lounge in the room and said: "Well, Sarah, you have the most real home here of any building that I was ever inside of in my life."

There was neither church nor school near them, yet a large family of children grew up who were neither ignoramuses nor heathen, but on the contrary are intelligent Christian men and women and valuable citizens. The good husband and father sleeps in the silent city. He left behind him no large accumulation of property, but a name revered and honored by all who knew him. My old schoolmate, now rapidly growing old, is spending her remaining days with one of the children she trained so well. To her children and friends, the memory of the bright and happy, as well as the useful lives of herself and husband, are worth much more than any amount of gold could have been. Surely I need not ask any one in this audience which of the two lives they would prefer. I trust no one here is so far gone in his love of money, simply as money, that he would accept the home and life of the wealthy man first described in preference to that of my old schoolmate.

And yet, when I am traveling in the west, I often see

homes, no, not homes, but places where homes ought to be, that make me fear that many of our people are too eager for money. In their anxiety to accumulate a fortune they either forget or neglect many things that would add very much to the comfort and happiness of a home. The first case I referred to is, I know, an extreme one, and there is very little danger that any one who attends these meetings will ever go to such extreme lengths for money. But my friends I would not have you travel any distance whatever in that direction, as no amount of money could redeem such a life from misery in the end. The wealth of a Vanderbilt might gild it over and perhaps hide some part of it from the world, but nothing could cure it. I referred to the other case because my old schoolmate and her husband came to what was then the west, just as many of you, and just as wife and I came, without money and with our homes to hue out and our fortunes to acquire, if we ever have them. What they did, you and I may do it if we try. Why, then, is it that we have so many places in our beautiful state that can be called homes only as a matter of politeness or as a compliment to our friends? My friends these things ought not so to be, and they need not so continue. Begin now, if you have not already done so, to adorn and make homes pleasant, and you will surely make all within it happier, better and more contented with their lot. Resolve to-day that another spring shall not pass without your having a nice and respectable garden, in which shall be an abundance of all the vegetables of the season. That for at least one month of the year strawberries shall be as plenty as bread is and as free to all. Raspberries should be in the same abundance during their season, with plenty to spare for canning, and before they are gone comes the blackberry, which if your family enjoy in abundance they will have little use for your family physician.

Then when you have feasted your family and friends to their heart's content on berries, comes the grape in its different varieties, of which if you take proper care you may eat until winter. But in our list of small fruits we must by no means omit the little red and white currant.

Would you ask what varieties of small fruit will grow upon

common farm land? Well, if you should ask my friend Mr. Kellogg what varieties of strawberries or raspberries will grow upon your land, he would give you a list of names of each, long enough to make your head swim even to think them over. But I am not asking or expecting you to become experts at first, but only to add to the comfort and beauty of your homes. I will give you a very short list of such varieties as my family, and friends who visit us enjoy. I need hardly say that of strawberries I place the Wilson first. To lengthen the season somewhat, I like the Kentucky the best of any late variety that I have tried. If you wish a very large and beautiful berry of good quality, try Seth Boyden's No. 30. It is with me a very poor bearer, and will only pay as indicated above. If you wish something very choice in quality, get some of Downer's Prolific, or Burr's New Pine, which are both moderate bearers and medium in size, but too soft for market. For raspberries, the Doolittle and the Mammoth Cluster are both valuable and good among the Blackcaps. The Philadelphia is a standard among the reds. I also think highly of the Cuthbert, but have not yet fully tested them. From what I have seen I think well of the Gregg among the Blackcaps and intend to try them the coming season.

I have had no experience in cultivating the blackberry, from the fact that wild ones of excellent quality grow in such abundance near me that there seems no occasion to look farther in that direction. From what I have heard and learned from others, I think Stone's Hardy and the Snyder may be safely recommended as good and reliable. Among grapes the Concord stands at the head for reliability upon all soils and under all circumstances. With me the Janesville has proved more hardy and a better bearer than the Concord, and also earlier, though in quality inferior to it. Still it is like the Wilson strawberry in one respect, it is not really ripe as soon as it becomes colored, but will improve in quality for some time by being left on the vines, or if picked, carefully packed and left in a cool, dry place to ripen. With me the Delaware is a favorite and does nicely. Rogers No. 3 and No. 9 are my early and choice in quality, I think about equal to the Delawares, and a few days earlier;