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? WEEKLY EDITION^ ~ WIXNSBOKO, S. C., WEDNESDAY, MAY 24, 1882. ESTABLISHED IN 1844. ^ * .... Silence is (JolJ. We walked among the woods in spring, When earth vas fair to see, With bluebell and -with cherry bloom ^ And white anemone. S Then one of ua, I think, iorgct & The truth, so often told? f That speech is only silver, dear, But silence often gold. You talked to me of tint and tone, Hr Of subtle green and gray; Of lisht and shade, and glint and gleam, ' And sunbeam's tender play. You made me strain my ears to hear Each tinkling phrase unfold; Your speech, may be, was silver-gilt, But yet it was not gold. ' Ah, me! you thought me savrge then, A Philistinic boy ; I know full well, that sweet spring day You robbed me of my joy. ' The false, aesthetic brass, 'tis true, Your purse could never hold ; Would it had held less silver, then, And greater store_of gold! The eyes to see, the ears to hear. The very siglit and sound ; Bui speak not, for the place -whereon You stand is holy ground ! Yes, look and tnink, if think you can, But leave the thought untold ; For speech is only silver, dear, v.. But silence purest gold. -v. ?- ? , MISS PRUE'S PARTY. "Thirty dollars and twenty-five cents ?and I've 'arned it, mercy knows!" Miss Merriweather glanced down at , the little heap of fresh, nsw green and brown bills lying npon the whitelysconred. pine-table, in a retrospective manner. "Jest to think of the batches of tnr* keys Fve rose?pampered 'em up like they was babies, too?an' the piles of yaller bellflowors and northern spies * I've cut and dried, and tne yards of domestic I've "wove?jes, I do say I've 'arned it gocd I" "An' you orto chuck it riglit straight into the bank, and it'll draw interest." Miss Prue's sister, Mrs. Potter, a little, wilted-looking womar, with a small nub of dusty, flaxen hair pinned t tightly at the back of her head, who was manufacturing pumpkir. preserves in a big brass kettle, swung over the blaze in the fire-place, had one single idea of ? ? 1 * J ? L L Bona comiorc?money mterebii, "Banks ain't always safe," remarked Bliss Prue, half to herself; t:an'I don't see as money's mnch use noways ef you keep it poked in a bank always, so yon can't get it ef yon want to. I reckon ril hev some good oat'n this, anyhow. Fm goin' to give a?" "A ^arty! screamed Meg Potter, a ATTft/1 /Y^ ? ! 1 Y*? A * ?>XL?1 Ck ICU < jacket, that was watering a thrifty plant that dwelt in an ancient coffee- s boiler in the kitchen-window. "Oh, yes, do Aunt Prue! and I'll help you i to make the cakes, and well invite those 1 #?"hft-rmincr 7?1oah<vra f n0f-. fiavo insf. Cdmp 1 from the city, and?" < "No, we won't!'' said Miss Prxie, de- ! cisively. ,:Eit aia't a-goin' to be no t sich a affair : an' I'll tell yon once an' ] fer all it's only a-gom' to be a party for ! poor folks-them as don't never have J no tnrkey or pluzn-pnddin' I'm a-goin' to scratch ronn' in all the highways and : v bywaj3 for the poorest and mizzablesfc. < hfe. an'make'em all come: an' I'm a-goin' ' to give 'em one good zness of frosted I M^V. : pound cake, an* 3emon pies, an' boned ^ turkey, an' cranberry jelly, an' all sich." jG>~ "Fudge I" grumbled Meg, thumping ] her watering-pot down with emphasis, "that won't te nice!" "Landv mussey I" groaned Mrs. Potter, "von always was quare, Prue Merriweather; but this here's the cap ( sheaf. They'll most likely git sick, an' t blame you fer it, an'call you names, an' j vnnr mnr.pv'll all h? wasted. 'whftn vnn 4 might save it up. EE you're afraid of a , * bank, lend it out?" a-goin' to," interrupted Miss Frt? " 'Whcso giveth to the poor lendeth to the Lord.' I'm a-goin' to j lend this much to the Lord, anyway." "J5Qt you won'c gic no interest, * mourned her sister, stirring up her preserves with much dejeesion. "I ain't afraid of gettin' cheated, noway," said Miss Prue, drily. And as there was no hope whatever of persuading her to change her mind, her sister and niece were constrained to make the best of it, and help along with the preparations. "Looks like as if you was a-cookin' % your weddin' dinner, Prue Merriweather," tittered Miss Jemima -Jonquil, , appearing in the doorway with a purple M calico aoron Dinned over her head, and , ? glancing critically at the row of lemon and coceannt pies npon the cupboard, beside which stood a great cake studded with raisins and citron. "I come to fetch your pattern bach; an' seemed like I smelt nutmegs an' things here, so I come this way." Miss Jonquil was chunky and fair, ! 21X1U. a v VLulJ *.lii01.UCUiu.UJ? UAUUCl . and light-gray eyes. "Law me!" she continued, gliding in, 1 and piumping herself into a rocking- . ! chair by the fire, "ef it ain't this very day ter. years ago that you was cookin' 1 np* things jest like yon air now, 'cause yon 'lowed Jim Griggs wonld be back ; from Idyho next day. We all tole yon not to pnt no faith in his promisin'? ' like as not he wouldn't come, he was always so keerless; bnt you wuc jest . that headstrong you would fix fer him, an' hev a party to welcome him, anyhow Beckon yon thought it might be your weddm'-day ef he tuck a notion to suggest it?fer I s pose he hedn't epoke al. ready." ; "You needn't bother yourself none about whether he hed or not," said Miss Prue flushing. "He didn't never come, so I reckon yon was satisfied." "On, no*, Prue!" said Miss Jemima, reproachfully, "yon know 1 was awfully sorry when he didn't come, yon looked so distressed like; an' I pitied you ever since. Seemed like you thought such a heap of Jim; ef he'd only returned, you might a been Mrs. Griggs all this time. But sskes! he must be married long ago; an' I s'pose yon don't expect ever | to be nothing but an old mafd now?" i Miss Jonquil, being fully six months younger than Miss Merriweather, could afford this fling. "I don't expect nothing only what Providence sends," said Mis3 Prue, composedly, setting a plate of cranberry tarts in the window to cooL A great fire rcareu in Miss Merriweather's parlor next day, upon the r andirons, whose glittering Drass neaas ; flashedjbsck the light in broken glints, I and the strange guests were soon as- i sembled, enjoying the novelty and exchanging greetings, comments and criticisms. "Dear me!" said an old lady in a linsey shawl, who earned a scanty living by knitting socks for the village store, "if there ain't Jane Higgs, that washes for them rough miners?and looking as j OKA tVksmorKf TTTOC QG &T1V- 1 U OUC VUUU^UU OUV ?* MV W y body!" "And just see old Daddy Skiikins, with his wall-eyfs and bristles! I know he'll spoil my appetite," remarked Mrs. Baker, who was almost helpless with dropsy. "I do think he might have had sense encusrh to stay awav?the old ape!" Brit Daddy Skifkins, far from suspecting himself of being an object of aversion, was bent on making himself agreeable to all, and trotted abont from the fire to the dining-room door with gleeful exclamations of?<iCrickeyrwhat . ft hunker fire! She's an angel, Miss . .. o llilfr Pru3 is! There's a turkey fcigger'n a wash-tub! Bless her heart! don't it jest make a feller feel like goiir to church What a cake! Ain't it a screamer!" etc., until Sirs. Baker requested him to shut his mouth and not make a fool of himself. Miss Prue felt that she had an ample reward in the happiness she had the means of bestowing upon these poor creatures, into whose lives so few such gleams as this had fallen. "If people would only seek happiness in this manner they would find it oftener," she thought. Meg, who was helping her aunt set the table, foand the affair rather an interesting experiment; and even Mrs. Potter conceded that lending to the Lord was not a bad investment. Miss Merriweather was just finishing cff her table arrangements with a great | glass dish of oranges, when Daddy | Skifkins came skipping out, in much excitement. "Miss Prue," he exclaimed, there's a feller outside sav3 kain't he ccme in, 'cause it's a-snowin' powerful? An' Mrs. Baker an' Granny Larkins says he shain't come in; but seems kinder rong'n on a feller to not hev no place to go, an* I reckon he ain't; an'?" "Of course he can come in," said Miss Prue, settling the last orange. "Wait?I'll let him in myself." As she opened the door, a tall form, in a rough, gray overcoat, all dappled with snow, walked in. "Prue!" exclaimed a deep voice, just a little tremulons. And, without further notice, the tall and saucy stranger gave Miss Prue a very snowy hu<?. "Jim?Jim Griggs?is it really you ?" cried Miss Prue, returning the hug, in fhA of all the* aroests. who had trooped into the hall, with Mrs. Potter and Meg close behind. "It's Jim Griggs and nobody else I" returned the stranger, cheerily." "And every year for the past ten it's been my intention to come home on this very day of this very month, because it's the anniversary of that day I promised to 1 T L ^11 T X. L!11 . 3 ? _ come, wneu 1 got an uui> &uiea m a smash-up, and robbed afterward: and when I goi into ?. traveling condition, come bask X ^rouldn'i, with never a cent, when I had made a fortune; and I vowed a vow not to come till I had it back? which I've done at last?and to come this night when I did. Letters we poor wretches couldn't send oftener than once in six months, and they mostly went astray?all the mail-agent didn't l i.: T puo 1LT ins IUL oaxo-jx^cyiug?ou ? wouidn't risk it, not being any hand to write, anyway, and I always said next year I'll go tsure. I knew you'd wait for xne, Prue, xev darling, and here you are, with everything and everybody, to welcome back the prodigal 1" Mr. Griggs finished his explanation before the bounteous fire, with Daddy Skifkins revolving aronnd him in a perfect ecstasy, and everybody talking it once. Miss Prue took th9 opportunity to indulge in a thankful little cry behind the dining-room door. But it somehow happened that while the guests were ssjoyinj? their banquet?for which Mrs. Baker's appetite was not found to be seriously impaired by Daddy Ski thins' presence?Mr. Griggs persuaded Miss Prue to take a little walk with him a,s far as the minister's residence. "'Pears like it was her weddin'-cinner >he was a-ccokin', after all," said Miss Jonquil, when she heard the news. "But, law saJjes I" she added, with a ;itter, "'tweren't a very stylish affair* I wouldn't have no sich a wcddia'!" "Which remark did not trouble the [ate Miss Merriweather in the least-. Tlie "Wrong Gun. A countryman came into a stoie the )ther day and wanted to buy a shot ?un. The proprietor sized up his customer in a general manner, thought he lad struck just the right man on whom ;o work off some old stock. Th9 far? ?? x * ? ?1. ? ?? n tffV.rt IltJr UlUUgJLIO UC liOCI 1UCU Ck jLUf?u. nuw yas so genial and affable, and became >o much in love with the storekeeper ;hat be nearly decided not to leave the premises, but to remain to enjoy the society of his entertainer. He had been looking at a piece of jrdnance appraisea at $6.75, whan the storekeeper reached back in the corner md brought forth another. "This gun isn't worth so much as that fou have in your hand," saidS&e. "It iooks a little better, but it rats only gotten up to sell. App arances are dejeitful, you know, and traveling rhrough this vale of tears you fcave to cos cioseiy to your steps, a juso ?uu?cu rou this last gun, which I sell by the iozen for five dollars apiece, to teach ,-ou how you might be deceived. It looks a superior article to this one for 56,75 but you can't do near the eiecu;ion with it that you can with the latter, ind, besides, a man with your culture ind general intelligence don't want to be fooling away hi3 time with a popgun j ihat wont knock a red squirrel on a sapling. This $6.75 is more suited to ihe demands of yoor nature," and the iealer smiled his sweetest* "Did you say that five dollar gon wouldn't shoot worth anything?" inquired the customer. <:I did. I've tried it and it is a fraud. I only keep it to show up better goods Kith. I never got cheated on a gun but once and that was the time I bought that gun." "It ain't especially dangerous then, is it?" "Well, I should say not. I shot a tramp between the shoulders with it one day up at home, and he came and sat down on the doorstep and asked my mother-in-law to scratcn ms dsck. Gtm looks good enough, but I don't want to sell it to yon. It won't shoot hard enough to blow the wadding out of the barrel." "Well, I never. Say! are you telling me the truth?" "Gospel truth. You ought to know me well enough to understand that I don't lie about my goods." "Yes, exactly. I'm glad to hear it. Here's your five dollars. Glad I came here. Can't stay long, you know, for my wife's holding the horses outside. I don't care how mean a cr.a is for I want to give it to my sister's boy, and I don't want him to have an article that's liable to go off and kill him. Don't think I could have found as mildX ~ O T*? T7 TT T"1 f) CtJLLL ^tri cu. a t*uj nuv^v vawwj ? ? yon ? Good day," and he was gone. The merchant stepped out to the edge of the -walk as the wagon rolled off up the muddy street, and gazed after it long and anxiously, and then turned and came back into the store and rearranged the cases. He didn't seem excited or grit his teeth or swear, but cfttimes a calm and unruffled exterior mav - n J C*. niae a worm ot wye, auu m ?u.?j some time before the merchant will show a guileless granger a twenty-dollar gun for one-fourth its value simply to furnish him information about the relative merits of sporting apparatus. If you have a fault, stifle it. If you have a virtue, hold fast to it. If you have a friend, stand by him by anticipating his needs, by prompt and full assistance in the time of trouble. If you have a wife and home, treat the f rmer with that love acd kindness which yon swore so to do, and your home, the training-school of your child! ren, make that sacred place the abode I of joy, and its hearth the seat of comfort, "to be held with its noble influences in loving remembrance, long after its honored head has paid that penalty of life, which men below tern death. , WASHINGTON ROGUES. 1 How the Verdant are Swindled at the National C'ipitnl?Gointr to See the Statues ; Unveiled at Arlington and What it Coat*. For several years Washington has been infested with gangs of scoundrels i whose ability in rascality was never i equaled, and whose operations have ' been bevnnd the reach of justice. Their tricks were never practiced nor attempted on the citizens ot Washington, but were confined to visitors from the various sections of thi3 country and abroad. The gangs have long been known as the "monte men." Each gang consisted of four persons, namely, first, the man who "connects"; tha1; is, the man who first approaches the stranger selected for fleecing ; second, the friend of number one, who is generally represented to be a clerk in one of the departments ; third, the old farmer, and fourth, the "ekeer." There have been several of these gangs at work here. One operated across the Potomac, another at the arsenal, and others at different points where booty was promising. Their manner of doing business was something like this: No. 1 of the gang, trim r>iA rivAr Rtat.innefl himfifilf at the Capitol, at the Treasury, at the White House, or some other public place agreed on between himself and confederates. He was genteel in bearing and appearance, scrupulously dressed, with nothing of the flash or fast about him. Of quick instincts and large experience, he could easily choose his victims. He rarely failed to bag his game. If he saw a well-dressed man 1 with a guide-book of the city looking about and ecjoyingthe sights, it did rot take him long to "connect.'1 He would approach the stranger in the most careless gentlemanly manner and ask to be directed to some imaginary place or statue. Of course the man with the guide-book would answer that he was a stranger and could not direct him. The sharper would then say that he was also a stranger, but was then waiting for a friend of his, a department clerk, who had promised to meet him there and show him the eights. Common-place conversation foliowed between No. 1 and the stranger, until suaaemy tne "department clerk" (No. one'e confederate) comes up and greets his friend warmly. He apologizes for his delay by saying that he was engaged with the secretary on some important matters. This, of course, always impresses the stranger. Then the clerk would propose to start. His friend would ask where they had better go. The clerk would say they had better go over to Arlington, that a statue ox Custer, or Lincoln, or Lee, as the case might be, was to be unveiled at two o'clock, and that the President and cabinet and Supreme court and the foreign ministers in their uniforms would all be present and it would be a grand sight. Before this, however, the sharper would find ont where the stranger was from and something about him. If he was a Democrat and from the South, it would probably be Lee's statue that was to be unveiled; if he was from Illinois and a Republican, it would be Lincoln's, and so on. Nine chances to one the stranger would ask to go along. If not, then the department clerk would say to his friend : "Would not your friend (meaning the stranger) like to go along ? I shall have to get two passes anyway and I may as well get three if -wnnld likft to co." Then introduc tions would follow and the end would be that the stranger would go with his newly-made acquaintances. The sharpers would have a row-boat moored somewhere along the shore in charge of a pretended fisherman and would dicker for the boat to row across. A price would be fixed and across the party would go. Being on the Virginia shore the watches would be consulted and it v r 3 il.l 1 1J WOtua D0 iouna iaai> an nuur ut ov wuuiu < elapse before the ceremony would take place. At this point No. 3, or the old farmer, would come in sight. Coming directly on the party, with bluff, hearty manners, he would inquire where "that derned statue was to be unveiled"; that he had been looking around for it for a long time, etc., etc. He would be dressed for the occasion with rough clothe3 and boots, unshaven face and dirty hands. A perfect actor, lie would explain that he was from Kentucky, or Pennsylvania, or Iowa, as the ease might be; that he was buying up cattle or had sold his cattle in Baltimore, and had come to see "Washington, etc., etc., the nf his ecmntv. and so on. He was always chewing tobacco or smoking a short pipe, and made himself perfectly at home. The gentlemanly, well-dressed sharpers would, with quiet dignity, explain where Arlington was, and then tell him lie had plenty of time to get there without harrying before the ceremonies began. Then the old farmer would be some vol able, ask any number of questions and become confidential. All of a s adden he would strike the lead. Ee would explain how he was taken in in Baltimore. He had sold his cattle rtnd had fallen in, he would explain, with a lot of sharpers, and then he would give an account of how nicely he was done for. "I'll be derned ef they didn't get $500 out of me auicker'n h?1 could scorch a feather"; but it was a square thing. They gave me back $50 and showed me how to play the game. When I get back to old Kentuck I'll win as much as $15,000 out of the boys. It's a slick game, I can tell ye." He would then spread an old, dirty bandanna handkerchief on the ground and show the game. Taking four greasy cards from his pocket, which he said the sharpers had given him, he would throw them around faces dowi: in apparently the most careless manner. The stranger did not notice how small the farmer's hands were, nor how supple they were. The handling of cards by these people amounts almost to genius. "Now, gentlemen," he would explain, "you probably think you know where the queen is, but you don't." The department clerk would then say that he would bet $20 that he could pick up the queen. The farmer would take tho bet. "I want you to know, gentlemen, that I'm not broke if I was fleeced in Baltimore." With that he would pull out a "boodle." A "boodle"?it is necessary for me to explain to your readers?is a large roll of what looks like greenbacks, with a few good notes on the outside. The clerk would put down his twenty and the farmer would put down hi". Then the clerk would ielect a card, it would prove to be the queen and lie would take tbe money. This would happen once or twice?the stranger being able, like the others, to see exactly where the queen was. By this time the farmer would begin to get uneasy and threaten to stop, etc., but he would say he would try it once more. Probably at this stage the stranger would see that he had a sure thing, and he would bet a hundred dollars?and lose it, at which the far mer would be greatly delighted. "Now," he says, "let's try it again." The stranger's money would go again, and for the third time in addition. Then the farmer would throw the cards still more deliberately. Surely, the straDger thought, he could win this time, but not so. Getting a good deal excited, the stranger at this period would play "just to get even"?and lose, of course. Finally, as a last coup, the larmer. wholly by accident, of conrse, would tnrn up the corner of the queen. This would uppear so certain that the stranger would bet every dollar he had?and lose! At this critical period down the hill rushes the "ukeer" in the guise of a Yir - - 4 ginian, with slouch hat and long hair carrying a shotgun. He rashes np to the party swearing like a 'senator, and demands their surrender for gambling on his grounds. ''You rascals, I'll have yon all in the penitentiary. Don't you know that gambling here is three years' imprisonment and SI,000 fine?" He grabs the old farmer, and the rest escape to the boat. If the stranger imonrinaa Vina Vinun caring Tori Vif Vila companions he does not say so, for they are two to one. By the time he gets back to Washington he knows very well he has been robbed. He knows, too, that he tried to get the better of "the farmei" and failed. Usnally he i3 ashamed of himself, says nothing, and writes home for money. Sometimes, however, he goes to a police station and irakes complaint. "Where did this thing occnr ?" "Across the river." "Then we can't help yon, sir. Yon were robbed in Virginia." Arid that ends it. ?[Washington Letter. Varieties in Hand-Shaking. The manner in which different people shake hands varies as much as the ones of the voice varies in the same people, and is as much an index to the character as the voice is. We will take some of these people as they are to be met any day on the streets. The large fat man, who does not wear a shirt collar, who perspiref! so mnch, and who is always wiping hi? face with a red handkerchief, reaches as a moist hand that feels like a dime's \*orth of link sansages, and has abont as much life in it as a bnnale of that frnit has. He lays Jtiis hand in onrs in a slow indifferent way, and immediately ceases to take further interest in this operation. I He seems to feel that his responsibility [ in the matter ends when he deposits his hands in onrs. When wo give it a shak6 and find do reciprocal action in it, we drop the thing and realize that the owner of that hand is not the kind of a man we wonl 1 like to ask for the loan of five dollars if we needed che money. Nest we meet a man who gives our hand four or five robust shakes, almost enough to dislocate onr anatomy, asks us how we do, and does not wait for an answer. There is no warmth of feeling or sympathy expressed in the shake. His creditors say that he is a man of promise. He is the sort of a man we would not care to trust with an important secret or a large package of uncounted money. ' * - ?1- - -.1.1. iiere comes tae man who catoaett us by the hand, begins with a crescendo and keeps on until he reaches the diminuendo shake, after which he still retains his grasp, lays hi3 disengaged hand on our shoulder and leads us into a doorway, while he proceeds to disgorge a chunk of uninteresting news that was ancient history a week ago. He does the same thing and tells the : same news to the nest man he succeeds i in capturing. He is the confidential j bore and should be avoided. Wnen we get rid of him we meet a ; wiry, active, quick-gaited man who j gives our hand three energetic shakes j without any trills or semi-quavers j aboui them, but those three shakes, ( somehow, convey the idea that the , shaker is a business man, abounding in , confidence in himself. He does not in- ; dulge in useless compliments or stereo- ] typed phrases. If he has anything to \ say he says it in terse terms as if he was ( writing a cablegram, and passes on. He j is a prosperous merchant, and if he aces j not break down from overwork he will be worthy, aatilion z^ome ctey>~ ? , Next corff&s ?he young old man who struts as he walks. He holds out two ] fingers to be shaken. He is the patroaiz- ] ing crank, and gives us what might be \ called the cold shake. His grand uncle , was "Hair-cutter extraordinary, by \ special appointment, to George the ( Third," or something oi that sort, and j he feels that he owes ib to his grand- , fin/vl^'a mamftnl fn nn t.fiA rliffnitv tj UlUiUW*^ wv ? -~~0 ^ of the family, which he thinks is be3t j done by a penurious use of his digits \ among his acquaintances. To hand him j two fingers to shake would be a good ( way to retaliate if it was not for the : fact that his brain is too small to grasp 5 that amount of a hint all at one time. j The man with a long, thin, cold j hand, who seems to grudge the use of ^ his fingers, and only lends about three : inches of their tips for a single shake, ; is not a man of extravagantly generous i l'mrmlsoq nnd trill Trover be likelv to . die of enlargement of the heart, but , when wo meet a man who gives our hand a tight grasp and a hearty shake. 3 who seems to put his whole soul into , ifc, and to like the esercise so much j that he gives us an encore, so to speak, , we know that he is a friend and to be j trusted. , There are rainy other varieties of , shakes that might i;e described. We believe that not only hand- uhaking, but , the hani icsslf, would indicate a man's character as well as a phrenological \ chart of his head would do. Why does not some one study the subject ? We ; suggest that some crank who is in need j of a hobby should give the matter im mediate attention.?Texas si/iings. - j Japanese Metal YVork. For centuiies past the artists of Japan have earned for themselves a reputation for their skill in the working oi metals, and at the present day their productions in bronze, iron, and steel excite admiration and astonishment. This art industry is of extreme antiquity. Mr. Satow, in his recent hand- ' book of Central and Northern Japan, describes the colossal image of Bnddha : at Nara. It vras first cast in 749 a. m., : and was set up in its present position. It suffered from various accidents, and in 1567 the temnle wtn burned to the : ground, the head of the image falling off. It ja3 replaced not long afterward, and we i^ay therefore assign to the body an a^e of 1140 years, and to the < head about 300 years. Buddha is represented seated crosslegged on a dais, which is of bronze and represents the cal^a of a lotus. The figure is fifty-three and a half feet high, the face is sixteen feet long and nine and a half wide, while 966 curls adorn the head, around which is a halo seventy-eight feet in diameter, on which are images eight feet in length. A roof protects the image, and a staging is erected to assist visitors in examining it. The casting is said to have been attempted seven times before it was accomplished, and 3,000 tons of charcoal were u<ed in the operation. The whole is said to weigh 450 tons, and the alloy is composed of 500 pounds of gold", 1,954 pounds of mercnry, 16,827 pounds of tin, and 9S6,0S0 pounds of copper. The body of the image, and all the most ancient part of the lotus flowers on which it is seated, are apparently formed of plates of bronze ten inches by twelve, soldered together, except the modern parts, which are much larger castings. A peculiar method of ?? ~L?o^c\r\f n/3 CUHbirUCtlUU JLS daiu ivuarg UMV^/bw namely, of gradually building up the walls of the mold as the lower part oi the casting cooled, instead of constructing the whole mold first, and then making the casting in a single piece. The various temple bells, some of which are of great size, are remarkable for the sweetness and mellowness of their tones, which contrast greatly with the harsh, clanging sounds of European bells. They are struck on the outside by huge pine beams 'which are suspended by strong ropes. The postal money order business of the New York postoffice for the first quarter of 1882 shows an increase of 25,020 orders and $178,333.78 in amount over the corresponding quarter of 1881. PRECIOUS STONES. The Business in Diamonds? Diamond ('nt ting:?Value ol Brilliants. The custom-house people are uneasj over the undoubted fact that a greai many precious stones are smuggled intc this port from Europe. It is compar atively easy to conceal them, and thj ten per cent, duty exacted by the gov ernment makes it hard for many morally weak individuals to resist the temptatior to smuggle. The government officers have been aware of the evil for a long time, and have been doing their best to stop it, but the great disparity between the volume of trade in precious stones and the amount of She goods declared at ths various custom-houses by importers shows that the government is defrauded, of a large amount of revenue. The passion for all 'sorts of fashionable gems is rapidly increasing in this country. The price asked for them is keeping pace with the demand, the average increase in cost 'within the past firm vaara fioinc f rnr?vitm .in f rc-Ant v-firA per cent. The discovery of the African diamond mines some six years ago for a while rednced the price of diamonds, but the rapid growth of demand, tin he United States chiefly, has restored the equilibrium, of . the market. The trade are new as'nng ten to fifteen per cent, more for d^z^onds than was asked fifteen montE^g?.--JSase. York dealers in gems have-iad the most prosperous business of tiheir lives within the past year and a half. It is a common thing in New York society to see $10,000 to $20,000 in diamonds on a lady's person. At the fashionable en^^ U ill WrtetlJU men to uu 1U.UiAaj jjiiai, wx au uixe? balls and garden parties at the watering places in swumer, one may literally see bushels of diamonds. Nearly every woman has big solitaires in rings or ear-rings. The large solitaire diainond is not preferred to the clnster. The gentlemen wear few diamonds, and they are likely to be mistaken for gamblers if they wear solitaires. They wear rings and stnds of fancy stones, however, and, while ten years ago they were eschewed by American gentlemen of taste, the ontfit of a man of fashion now is not perfect wiiihont them. Sapphires, rnbies, the amethyst, topaz, the emerald, cat's-eyes and the aqna marine are the stones in most demand for gentlemen's wear. In the year 1881 gems to the value of S8,332,511 passed through the oustom house, which was nearly four times the value of those imported in 1871. Dealers say that ail the more valuable stones are now selling at the rate of ek to one as compared with B71. New York is already one of the greatest markets for gems in the world. Many people here wear uxamyiiua w.uu, uuviuguiuuiuyo, in the same 3ocial and financial position, would not think of such a thing. The briskness of the New York market is naturally centering here all the industries connected vith preparing the gems for the retail trade. Diamonds are now largely imported in their natural state. Ct is only six years since the first 3iamond-cutter who was proficient in [lis business began work here. Now there are quite a namber of these skillsd workmen in New York, and dealers assert that their wo$?~i?superip? to that af either the Datch^ French, fjreek or English cutters and polishers. ' In proof of this rather renfarkable statement, they say that European dealers have recently sept diamonds in the rough to lv j? a- i?' jj j rrtu country 1>U UCU CWCU. JLLLCJ unim that a good many .Karopean-cut stonegj ire cui in a carelceLTnarnei*, and do not jompare favorably^ with the work of American workmen in polish and brilliancy. It takes at least four years to learn the art of diamond-cutting. The liamonds are found in alluvial deposits, md are extracted by washing. Two of ;hem are rubbed together until they re leive a shape in the rough. They are inished by grinding on a revolving disk Df steel, which is covered with oil and Jiamond dnst. Most diamonds are cut in the shape of brilliants, and some in ;he fo:rm of a rose, having a flat bottom md an upper snrface of tiny facets, and ending in a point. A first-class workman con cut and polish about five diamonds a week, and his wages range from 840 to $75. The great secret of ;he tride lies in the knowledge of the jrade of stones and now to cut tnem to make them commercially most valuable, [t is the easiest thing in the world for a workman to rain a stone. A flaw or a 3cratch across its face deteriorates its ralne fifty per ceDt. Perfect brilliants of the first water are now selling in this market: One-half 2arat diamonds, $175; one c^raf, 8550; ;wo carats, ?800. Diamonds of a large iize bring whatever can be obtained [rom the purchaser, as no fired price is stated. When a diamond is over five or six carats it is not very salable. An importer in John street has had two liamonds, each twenty carats, in the market for years, and has been nnable to sell them. The largest gem ever cut in this city was a forty carat diamond. It was off color, however, and was bought by a gambler. Solitaire earrings, two carats, are worth from $1,200 to 81,500, are large enough to produce a striking effect, and many very wealthy people prefer them to large diamonds, which they think look clumsy. The largest and most valuable diamond in America is said to be owned by a Maiden Lane dealer. It is valued at 860,000, f4"TT_^/tovafc ia /tailed V>Ci^UO XXkVJ-J-k ? W VA?*MUWj VUUWM *MV Pearl cf India," and is described as a pure white, cushion-shaped, double-cut brilliant. Merchants [here claim that the numerous imitation diamonds have never materially injured their business. The bogus stones are only passable imitations under the glare of gas. Sunlight readily exposes their real character. Ox course the white translucent stone, free from flaw and perfectly cut, is the most valuable. Yellow, brown and jet-black diamonds are readily found in the market, but pink diamonds are rare.? r VTaw* "VT A* I WOW xuin. JU^'UTOA. Amole-A Plant that Yields Soap. These caoti grow on the American continent from Monnt Shasta on the north to a similar latitude in South America, and from the Pacific coast to east of the Bio Grande, through New Mexico, and western Toxas. The flower stalks are destitute of leaves but are plentifully supplied with branches about eighteen inches long, from which flowers of white and pellow flnlrvrft are snsnended in the flowering season. The bulbous root is from one to six inches in diameter and from six to eighteen inches long. A saponaceous juice is expressed from the root and the fibre of the leaves is heckled for the manufacture of mattresses, cushions, and chair seats. The vegetable soap extracted from the root has been used by the Indians, Mexicans, and otuera for many years as a hair wash, and exceeds in purity our manufacture from animal substances. The preservative qualities of the soap are well known, and its use gives the hair a fine natural glow, preventing decay of the hair and entirely eradicatofV>flr 4rv>r\riT?ifinfl "fTiO lLlg UiXJLlU.X UU. ua vvuw* v* ?mv scalp. C it tie eat the leaves in the spring as a pnrgative. And cut into bits and thrown on water where fish abound, the effect is stupefaction of the fish, when they can be easily taken. The price among the Indians and Mexicans, who sell it in Tucson, is five cents for a bunch of two stalks interlaced (mancuerna). For cleaning flannels the aniole is found vastly superior. It may be hoped that the manufacture and preparation oi amole may become one of the industrial I pursuits of the age.?Tucson Citizen. The YFonderlul Damascus Blade. Great discoveries and improvements have been made in the mannfactnre of 7 steel, bnt it is qnite remarkable, says a I writer in the American Machinist, that , no country has prodnced an article equal . to the Damascus blades. These blades s are eo myths, as many suppose. Many . i ux iLLeni eixsij, iiiyuij m iu? , hands of descendants of Saracen chiefs ! and Esstern princes in European coli lections. The peculiarity of the Damas. cus weapon is not only its beantifnl sur| face, showing myriads of waving zigzag lines running through the metaJ, J but the temper and elasticity of the steel surpasses all other kinds, combining a sharpness of edge with such elasticity as no modern art can equal. The point of the sword can be bent to reach the hilt and then spring back to a straight line, and the same sword would cut through an ordinary weapon without injuring its edge, or sever a silk scarf thrown in the air. All investigations seem to prove that the Arabs produced their finely tempered Damascns swords by nsing two steels of different carbonization, mixing them in the most intimate manner and twisting them in fantastic ways, bnt observing method in their fancy. Nicola Milonas, in trying to discover the process of the Konrdes in the manufacture of their sword blades, observed, first, that tho manufactories in which these blades were made were situated at the declivity of the mountains, near cascades, the water of which, falling from rock to rock, arrived in a limpid state in the reservoirs constructed for its reception, and in which the blades are tempered. The reservoirs are tnemseives piacea in situations where the air i3 very pure. These conditions of purity of air and water are considered necessary for the success of the operation. Second, iron of the purest quality was selected and submitted to a very high temperature. The first tempering is begun when the iron is at white heat; the fuel used is placed on each side of it, and when redhot the iron is covered as quickly as possible with fatty and oily matter, paste made from bones, wax, etc. This operationtends according to the manufacturer, to render the blade flexible. The second ^ ? ?? * ? a/3 a ym A *mi/\ bempeiruig is pcxxvimcu uj oauu pucess, with these differences. The heated iron, after having thrown off considerable quantities of sparks, and having been exposed, is covered with a paste composed of powdeied bones and purified mutton suet. The third tempering is effected bj placing the metal in such a manner that it may be seized by a man on horseback, who rides at full gallop, in order that the blade, which he keeps in an elevated position, may receive the imrvrpssinn r.f thfi air. The fuelused is anthracite and turf. In order to obtain favorable results it is necessary to use fael entirely free from sulphur, and to combine as much as possible animal, vegetable and mineral substances. Imitations resembling the genuine Damascus blades, but far inferior to them in quality, are manufactured at Sheffield, ; Solingen, Germany, and Fiskilstuna, I Sweden. These productions have little to recommend them except their name. Flowers in Ancient Tombs. * ? ? .3 _ JT 1.1. JtUgyptoiogy nas iurnisnea aamirauie matter for the romance-maker, but in i the late discoveries near Thebes there is material which might wake up any L one's dormant poetry. Covering the grim mammies, cured with bitumen, swathed i#.eerements, had been placed a wreath.of fo'^re. The white and blue lutus had been ' gathered, and mingled with them there was a profusion of small delicate blossoms, yellow, red, and white tinted, all garlanded and interwoven. The death's heads peered out from amid the bloom of a past age, Three thousand years had gone since they had robbed death of its terrors, and still these fragile flowers had neither lost color or shape. Putting aside the verses, the sonnets, which these flowers might inspire, modern science - - - a _M t il steps m ana siiencea iuj: tu? xiuu^o uuo sounds of the lyre. What are these flowers ? asks the botanist. With magnifying glass each petal, stamen, and leaf is examined. Dr. Schweinfurth is studying these tender relics, eager to diecover their kind and species- Never was botanist placed face to face with such treasures. Herbariums are frail, fragile, brittle things. The oldest collections known are only of the seventeenth century, and then there are but + <->> +J-1T-/00 n( +Vi/5?n in TrnrlrL Here are floral treasures of 300 B. C., and they are as fresh as if culled but yesterday. Three or four are at once claased, but here is one which has disappeared entirely from the flower beds of this earth, and there is another found only to-day in the furthest Abyssinia. Had Linn sens only been alive, how he would have reveled as he botanized over this field of mummies Packed away with the mortal remains of Queen Isimkheb were various kinds of fruits. Here are sugared dates, almost as fresh as when plucked from the tree. But more than this, as if QaeeD Isimkheb had really broken her fast, here are teeth marks in the fruit, and scoopings out evidently made with spoons. De Foe, in his "Robison Crusoe," made his hero start with amazement when on the shore of his island he saw for the first time the footprints of another man. When Mariette Bey in his necropolis 01 jipis, came across we ijupreoaiuua ui toes and heels in the sands, which the last of the old Egyptian priests had left, the explorer's emotions were indescribable Here with thes9 Theban mummies we bridge over thousands of years, and past eons are at one and the same time both far and near to us. The Impossible GirL He offered her a handsome , opal ring. "Excuse me," she said, while a blush crept over her velvety cheeK; ''opals are unlucky." Then he fished a package of carameis ont of his pocket and attempted to present it to her. "I never tonch them," she murmured, languidly, "as they destroy the teeth und draw the filling out. My mother * v i -.il. 2l_ _ got some oetween ner teeiu me uma day, and her jaws were held together so tight for two hours that she couldn't talk." "You must have had quiet in the house." ' Sir!" "I say you must have had a riot in the house. I mean that your mother must have been so provoked that she couldn't preserve her usaal state of beautiful serenity, but was obliged to give way to her feelings, in spite of her heroic efforts to appear calm. Would you like to go to the minstrels tonight?" "No, I thank yon," she whispered, feelinglv, "I am always saddened by such woeful dreams as 'Camille,' 'Hamlet,' and 'Miss Multon'; aud the last time I was at the minstrels, I saw how those pla/s could be made more heartrending with the jokes of the minstrels worked into them." He then invited her to take a walk, and partake of ice cream and other luxuries calculated to thrill the feminine mind Tvith ectasy. But she refused each and all of them. And the young man danced around with his pocketbook in his hand, and thought what expense men would be eared if all girls were like this one. And he gang : "I i have found me the wife of the future; I've found the Impossible girl." : Then he woke up and ascertained 1 that he had been dreaming. The Impossible girl had yet to be discovered. Fables of Zambri. A famishing traveler, who had run down a salamander, made a fire and laid him npon the hot coals to cook. Wearied with the pursuit which had preceded his capture, the animal at once composed himself and fell into a refreshing sleep, At the end of half an hour the man stirred him with a stick, remarking : ' 3 1 J. Ll "I say i wase up ana Degxn wasting, will you ? How long do yon mean to keep dinner waiting, eh ? " "Oh, I beg yon will not wait for me," was the yawning reply. "If yon are going to stand npon ceremony, everything will get cold. I wish, by the way, yen wonld pnt on some more fnel; I think we shall have snow." "Yes," said the man, "the weather is like yonrself?raw, and exasperatingly cool." A man /^art-Tino> ?. of mm nn s. high ladder, propped against a wall, had nearly reached the top, when a powerful hog passing that way leaned against the bottom to scratch its hide. "I wish," said the man, speaking down the ladder, "yon would make that operation as brief as possible ; and when I come down I will reward you by rearing a fresh ladder especially foa you." "This one is quite good enough for a hog," wa?> i he reply; "but I am curious to know if you will keep your promise, so I'll just amuse myself until yon come down." And taking the bottom lung in his : mouth, he moved off, away from the wall. THE OWL, THE COCK A2vD THE WEAZEL. ! "Awful dark?isn't it?" said an owl one night, looking in upon th9 roosting j hens in a poultry house. "Don't see ] how I am to find my way back to my ; hollow tree." < "There's no necessity," replied the 1 cock; yon can roost there alongside the 1 door and go home in the morning." J "Thanks," said the owl, chuckling at 3 the fool's simplicity, and, having plenty of time to indulge his facetious hu- ] mor, he gravely installed himself upon 1 the perch indicated, and, shutting his ] eyes, counterfeited a profound slumber. 3 He was aroused soon after by a sharp < constriction of the throat. "I omitted to tell yon," ssid the cock, < "that the seat yon happen by the mereest chance to occupy is a contested one, and has been fruitfal of hens to this vexations weazel. I don't know how often I have been partially widowed by the sneaking villain." Foi* obvious reasons there was no aud-s ible reply. THE MAN AM) THE GOOSE. A man was plucking a live goose, when his victim addressed him thus: "Suppose you were a goose, do you t think 'you would relish this sort of ? tiling?" ? ' Well, suppose I were," answered the ? man, "do you think you would like to pluck me?" _ i "inaeea 1 wouid," was me empnauc, natural, but injudicious rep]y. "Just so," concluded her tormentor; "that's the way I feel about the matter." A Talk About Toast. Mrs. E. P. Ewing, in a lecture on cookery at Dearborn Seminary, said that toasting effectually destroyed yeast germs in bread, and converted the insoluble starch into a soluble substance resembling gum, and which chemists called dextrine, so that toasted bread was incapable of fermenting and pro- s ducing flatulence, or becoming sour on c 1.1.. -J. 1. T> J J. J llitf btuiiiuuu. Draau tuaatou iu. j agreed better with a weak stomach than c any other bread. Indeed, a sensitive j stomach would frequently digest toast r when it wonld digest no other article of i food. Hence toast, which was in general c nse as a diet for invalids, could be r safely ana judiciously recommended for them at all times; and the loose talk \ indulged in by some self-styled teachers t of physiology about the extreme un- 6 healthfulness of toast, especially when r buttered, only gave empnasis to me t fact that toasting bad bread and melting a bad butter did not improve the quality t of either, or render them less indigesti- ^ ble or nnwholesome than when in their c original un regenerate condition. Meeting or boiling inferior butter wonld not t make it proper food for a hnman r stomach, and the most skilled maniptt- ] lation would net convert sour, half j baked bread into nutritions, palatable g toast. The latter held so important a place among foods that every one should g know how to make it properly. Yet one of i the best American authorities on culi- r nary matters has said that only about ^ one in ten thousand know how to make c toast, and the lecturer indorsed tne statement so far as to assert that bad g toast was the rule and good toast the j exception. In making toast three directions j should be observed: Cat the bread, v which shonld be somewhat stale, in even slices, abont half an inch in thickness. If the bread is fresh, dry them ] slightly. Hold each slice a sufficient ^ distance*from the fire, which should be ? of clear, bright coals, to keep it from j burning, and let it brown evenly. For t this purpose a wire broiler or a toasting T * ' 5 rnr a. * lorn call D6 Tisea. VYiien me sunauo ui j one side becomes a rich, golden color, turn and heat the other side in a similar manner, until the slice is perfectly toasted. Serve the moment it is done in a warm plate, dry or buttered, and it will tempt the appetite of either invalid or epicnre. And the average individual, said Mrs. Ewing, might indulge occal sionally with impnnity in a broiled quaior a Boston stew, served on toast after this method, without the least fear of future regret or discomfort A Bishop's Mistake. Hn a rafont. rxvftqfnn "Rishon Gilmonr was preaching in the Cincinnati cathedral. It appears that, like some other preachers, he is in the habit of pounding while expounding the gospel. Thepul- 1 pit at the cathedral is situated near the < center of the auditorium, against a large i pillar, and the altar is some distance < away. Seated at the north side of the < altar were Bishop Elder and others, < and on account of the pillar they could i not command a view of the pulpit of i Bishop Gilmour. At about the middle i if his sermon Bishop Gilmour came tc 1 a forcible passage, and hammered vig- i cronsly oil the pulpit, creating a lond ' noise, and kept it up ior nearly a min- ] nte. "Stop that noise," cried Bishop 1 Elder, rising to his feet, and astonishing the congregation, who were at a loss to ' know what to make of the unusual pro ceeding. Bishop Gilmour kept on the ] even tenor of his way. "I demand^that ; there be silence," eaid Bibhop Elder. This bronght the thumping emphasis ' to an end, and the astonished bishop < turned and lacea tne airar. x>isaop Elder now discovered his part of the mistake and said: "I beg your pardon, sir; I thought it was someone in the' : congregation creating the disturbance." There were no other interruptions. How Did He Know. "Please, sir, give a few cents to a poor blind man?'' "Are you entirely blind?" "Yes, sir." ' Ll ' * J? "iiaven c aayimng zor yuu, "I snppose you think because you wear tight pants, and have got yonr hair parted in the rricH.le, yon are somebody. Yon look like that man who was hnng in Washington county last week; you long-legged, red-headed, freckledface galoot."?[Texas Sittings. Forty Chinamen make watches in San Francisco. GILDED STARVATION. Gorzeous Poverty in Manhattan Mansions? How Many Families Starve and Keep a Carriage. The other morning, when a New York reporter went into the butcher shop on Third avenue, immediately around the corner from his boarding house, to deliver a pathetic message from his sick landlady, he met a splendidly costumed female coming cut as ne was going in. Turning around naturally to follow her movements, and still farther to feast his eyes, he saw her step into a carriage at the curb stone, which was speedily whisked away by a pair of spirited and prancing horses. The well-groomed horses, with their shining harness; the black-tiled, greencoated, silver-buttoned and white-gloved coachman; the highly-polished carriage, with its gleaming lamps and windows; the whole equipage, in truth, flashing in the morning sunlight, seemed like a splendid vision from the world of dreams. When it had sparkled and shimmered out of sight, and was lost in 3 tlXO UIUVYU vl VCli-l^ACC, UHO ID" porter turned again into the butchershop. As he did so, the butcher brought a hunk of meat from one of the hooks, and flung it on the great round block at the end of his counter. Seizing a pair of meat-axes, he began hacking away to make mince-meat thereof in an unmistakable spiteful and vicious fashion. "That is what I call gorgeous poverty," looking up and nodding to the reporter. The butcher, it may be remarked, is an old school-fellow, who had the usual presidential aspirations daring his early years; but developing consumptive tendencies, had sought a corrective in his father's business. He had succeeded to the store at his father's death. He had found the corrective. His weight is not less than two hundred pounds. "See," he said, turning suddenly and pointing theatrically to four small mutton-chops and a modest and retiring piece of corned-beef on the counter behind him. "That is what Mrs. Magniloquent Montrose has just purchased. "I should no', be so indignant," he continued, laughing suddenly, "if these oeonle would take their purchases with ;hem. They always want them sent some. Now, this corned-beef and these nntton-chops will make two parcels which my boy conld almost put into his rest pockets. He takes them to a magiificent four-storied, brown-stone mansion on Madison avenue. The mutton;hops are for the family dinner, the :orned-beef is for the servants. There s twenty-three eents' worth. She paid iwenty-three cents out of a beautiful leal-skin pocket-book, lined with blue (ilk. When she paid me I do not thint ihe had twenty-three cents left in it." "Then she pays cash," suggested the eporter. "Because I won't give he? credit, ler husband is a cashier in a large bank lown town. I suppose that he has a landsome salary. But his big house, lis expensively dressed wife and daughers, his carriage and his splendid coachnan, his family's trip to Europe or Saritoga in the summer time absorb everyhing. He has little or no money to nvest in bread and butter and meat. If ; should let my bill run up the money xamU />?1 ATfAO UAAfo on/1 VJLUU 1UJL UUIUICdO) * COj wvw ?uu >ther full-dress paraphernalia. Then 7hen Magniloquent Montrose absconds, is he probably will, why I would be two >r three hundred dollars out of pocket. "Occasionally the Montroses give a linner party, after living at other peo)le's dinner parties for two or three nonth's, and starving genteely in the ntervals. Then I sell them a nice lot >f meat, and am very careful to tret my noney for it. "Oh, yes, it is about the same thing fith the other tradesmen. Mrs. Mon- : rnsA dashes iro to the corner arrocerv 1 tore in her carriage and orders a small : neasure of potatoes and a bar of soap o be sent home, and grandly rides away igain. Yon may see her servants on he avenue almost any morning on her ray to the baker's to bny and pay for >ne loaf of bread. 'Of course, the servants do not like his sort of thing. They usually stay a nonth, Ret their month's wages and go. 'f the servant can't stand it a month and * * - a iL eaves bet ore tne ena 01 it, sne aoes not ;et any wages. A middle-aged female entered the hop at this moment. She was dressed n shabby black. She carried a smail < narket-basket. She began inspecting 'ery earnestly a ronnd of beef that lay in the counter. 'It is not quite far enough in,"'She aid at length; "but you may cut me a jretty thick slice off there." The butcher cut off the slice, wrapped t up and gave it to the customer, who vent away. "You trust her?" "That's Miss Smith, a very different rind from Mrs. Montrose. She gets the rery best porter-house steak in the shop, she waits until the cut is just right. It t is not far enough in or verges toward he sirloin, she won't have it. And she jays promptly every week. "Why, she tnd her cat consume more good meat ;han all the Montrose family?father, nother and two daughters?do together. 3he is an old maid, a dress-maker. She ? x 41%^ ives in tae tuxra siory nuuu iuuuj n> uuc loase over the wap. Sometimes she roes out of town to a country mansion o do a week's work. Sbe always comes sack starved or dyspeptic, or both?at .east she says so. "I tell yon," concluded the butcher, lourishing the knife wherewith he had ust cut into the porter-house steak, ;,nnp +V?o ponplo iii fhia snow how the other half lives." The Import of Potatoes. Potatoes from Scotland, cabbage from Holland, and butter from Denmark and 3ermanj. How rapidly a scarcity in my part of the world starts shipments. Commerce is always vigilant, and the Irought in America gives a market to iistaut producers. The Scotch potato is well liked by many of our consumers, md the imports average 75,000 bushels i month. They pay fifteen cents a bushel duty, but this, as well as freight ind commission, is met by the present high market. A Scotch vegetable house has been started here, with the expec tation that this traffic will be permanent, ft is probable, however, that an immense breadth of potatoes will be planted this season, and this will bring prices down to their former mark. A j year ago potatoes were so dnll that it hardly paid to send them here, and now ' they are so dear that we are glad to re- j ceive them from Scotland. Thus one | extreme is followed by another. New ! York consumes 10,000 "bush-Is of pota- j toes every day, and hence the early crop from Florida and Sonth Carolina is aonarir Pnt&to SDeC aivrojo _A_ - ulators have made money, but only at the expense of suffering among the poor. There are thousands here who j are almost famished, and even the wellpaid working classes are pinched. How welcome to the city will be a resumption of old fashioned prices at the potato market.?[New York Letter. Daring the floods in the West and South recently, a huge catfish was caught in the parlor of the Belmont Hotel, at Columbus, Ky., where it had been landed by the water that overflowed the town. There are 4,698 vessels on the North American lakes. ^ * - M The Bonnd Feet of Chinese Women. Iron shoes are neither nsed nor known in China. The method is simply to use a strong muslin bandage. I have never heard of the bindings being put /vr> a nndoj raorc r\f o ta I think they oftener wait until she is two or three yeais older. In one cf the schools that I had all the girls were in the first year of binding. The youngest was six years old and the eldest eight. Of course, the later the binding is begun the greater the pain. The bandage of muslin usually is tHSee or four feet long and from five to seven inches wide. They commence at the middle of its lengthy passing it under the toes and crossing the two halves over the top, pulling each part tightly, and so on over and under until the foot is covered very tightly. A3 tbe bandage approaches tne neei a fold is thrown around it, with a poll forward toward the toes, to shorten tho ?foot. The pulling forward of the heel in time forces the instep up in a most painful and ugly manner, and just here they often find the greatest trouble in this cruel cu^om, for the pressure ia sometimes so great upon the instep that the skin bursts, inflammation and ulceration sets in, and the child may die. I have heard of but few fetal cases, however, though there might be : i many and we not know of them. V . The,. first, -jeax the foot i?.s^mply,- . :*1?~ bandaged tightly, td suppress * the growth. The second jear all the.small toes are folded down tinder the ioot, leaving only the larger toes in natural ' i position. The pulling of the heel forward and forcing the instep up, has made a little hollow under the foot-, . where the poor folded down toes find a place. I am told that the tight bandaging stops the growth of the nails, so that they do not arive trouble. The same sort of bandage is used, and the binding done as in the first year, only this time from added torture, from the unnatural position of the toes. This process of binding is kept up for jears^ from eight to eleven, and even longer '-p in some cases before the greatly desired tiny shoe worn at Funchau and farther south can be put on. This shoe measures from two and one-half to three inches in length, and a babe a week old of medium size cannot wear it. Of course, all this bandaging is accompanied with the greatest pain. I have many times seen these little victims of custom kicking and scream- ~.>|3j mg while the mother or some one else was binding up the poor little feet. And yet so strong is the admiration for such feet and so great the respect for those who have them that little girls often ask to have their feet bound, and bravely try to suppress the cry of pain; but the larger number are not of such heroic spirit, and rebel vigorously under the torture, sometimes going aside and slyly loosening the bandages for a little relief to the tortured foot, only to be punished and to have the bandages again tightened. As the the process goes on the muscles shrink away, the bones are bent or broken, and finally the foot looks like nothing Tinman Vint, fa an nnBirrlif-.lv hrtnr.ll nf bones, covered with a dry, yellow-looking skin, with just circulation enough to preserve life. There would seem to be real destruction of muscle, from the fact that the feet become very offensive during a part of the time. Frequent bathing in hot water is resorted to, and, if the skin breaks and sores appear, certain remedies are used. A medical friend of mine had an elaborate scroll presented to him by the father of a girl whose ulcerated feet he had cured. The inscrip&ea-on the scroll eulogized him as a great and skillful physician. When the feet have been reduced to the desired size and the bandages need no longer be used to lessen them, they must still always be w.->rn cc give strength and firmness to . rM the crushed feet. I examined carefully onf. pair of such feet (I could never bring myself to look at a second pair.) The woman was thirty years old and weighed aboat 115 pounds. She was quite unwilling at first to show me her feet uncovered. They are generally loth to do this, for tiiey know TTAVT7 TTTfil 1 +V?A OVA TWAcf TITi * cxj ncu vunu uuc Ate u oig iiiwou MMsightly. Very willing and proud are they to exhibit then encased in the exquisitely embroidered tiny satin shoe, but do not like to remove the covering and show the hideous deformity within. The woman whose feet I saw told me that hers were bound eleven years before they became " dead feet"?that is, ceased to pain her; but that even yet, if she stood long, walked much, or her feet became heated, or she wore new shoes, they often gave her much pain. The Hfctle toes were pressed into the hollow under the foot, the heel was lengthened considerably, and she passed the large toe and heel toward each other under the foot, so that they touched- My heart was sick as I looked at this ruin of God's handiwork and thought of the thousands enduring that torture at that moment. TVme/* ova T/wl IQ^TT "golden lilie3" of South Cbiua, and greatly do they wonder at our fullgrown feet.?Independent. Thread and Needle Tree. The luxury of a thread and needle tree! Who can estimate the comfort of such helpfulness at one's very deor ? Fancy the delight of matron or maiden dwelling under such overshadowing I Odd as it may seem to us, there is upon Mexican plains just such a forest growth. Imagine a " sewing-bee" gatnered under snch fair foliage ! No need of spools forever rolling hither and thither; no call for dainty reels compactly wound with snowy thread. Is .. ^ there a seam ready for busy fingers or an appealing rent, just step outside the door of the much favored Mexican house-mother, lay your hand upon a slender thorn needle pushing itself persuasively from the tip of a dark green leaf, draw it carefully from its deli cate sheath, slowly, slowly unwinding with your hand the thread, a strong well-rounded fiber, already attached to . the neeile, and oh! so tenderly folded away by Mother Nature as to hold within itself possibilities of a long Is stretch of the cord. Travelers are enthusiastic over the resources of the masruoy tree: and of its beauty no less, celling us of "clustering pyramids of flowers towering above dark coronals of leaves." The roots well prepared are a most savory dish; with its leaves may be a "thatehincr fit for a oueen,'' and no prettier sisht can b3 met than the cottages of Mexican peasants so exquisitely crowned. The rich leaves also afford material for paper, and from the juices is distilled a favorite barer- " i age. From its heavier fibers the natives manufacture strong cords and coarse strong !clotb. No wonder the maguey tree of tropical climes has attained world-wide fame I?Harper's Bazar. Mr. Wheeler's Plow. Mr. H. C. Wheeler, who owns a farm of 6,200 acres adjoining the village of Odebolt, la. j has tried all kinds of steam plows and found them wanting, but he has at last himself devised a machine which he thinks will prove practical. In action it combines the stationary and traction principles. The engine is run ahead 500 feec and then bv a cable draws up to itself ten plows inline, and this operation is repeated as often as may be necessary. ^ The American Bible society refuses to aid in sending out a certain Burmese -jllS Bible, because the word "baptize" is zMstm translated "immerse.'*