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^ WEEKLY EDITION. TOfNSBORO, S. C., WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 13, 1882. ^ ESTABLISHED IN 1844. | =L | The Lorer's Ehapsody. k A THASSSGmKG TDYL. ^V"'" I "Ah to-??? T lore yon so," he said; " Yonr every glance is joy to me? Tb? poise of yonder graceful head fc*. - T <r The inward-worth that I can see. Your form so plump?with every line That marks its proud and graceful swell? ; P.C^n/iO Vp O A And wraps me with its mystie spell. " Thanksgiving comes; and then for you Br My earnest gratitude shall rise: For who with heart aright and true Could such a gift as thee despise ? K ContriTed to please the inner man, To capture judgment, soul and brain, ^^nd molded on perfection's plan? BC^hat few terrestrial things attain. H Sv proud I am that thou art mine? ^^.Q^th?se perfections are my own, ollhy charms and grace divine Hr -to me and me alone; Ktorioo^halt yet be part of me, "*sny sorrows, dull my pain, HKiani felt V feast my eyes on theo WF B:it not g-^eetress once again. BET For be cad swf * Br - He'd blot of . , , ? What is j?ous bird! my favored one! by night, my dreams by day? My hope when other joys are gone: My fount of blessings glad and gay !" He clasped her close within his arms, ffife A glittering knife flashed by his side, Her head fell low despite its charms; He pore her," with a lover's pride, Within the house, where faithful hands The glowing coals had brightly raked? - And told the bustling kitchen bands He wanted that 'ere turkey baked! pf" ?I. Edgar Jones. SOFT SOAP. A THANKSGIVING STORY. There had been a grand Thanksgivi ing dinner at the Macy mansion, six courses. all told, each and all served ^?- admirable by Matthew, the butler, and little Alf, Matthew's helper. First, there had been soup, oyster and clam soup, with crackers, and celery, and pickled onions, and nasturtiums. Second, there had been a mammoth tur key, roasted to just the right point by Gilsey, the cook; a pair of ducks; broiled pigeons and baked venison, flanked by mashed potatoes, stewed tomatoes, succotash, squash, turnips, / . fresh-bailed pink and white beets, jip 'ijjkpie-sauce, bread and outter; yes, and coffee, too, belonged to the second course, for sensible Mr. Macy, senior, said lie " never cared for coffee after dinner." Third, there had been pies, pumpkin and mince pies, flaky-crusted and delicious, with cheese. Fourth, j there had been pudding?plum-pud* ding. Fifth, ice-cream, cakes and f jelly. Sixth, rosy apples, grapes and winter pears, walnuts, raisins and glasses of cold orange-water. " Such a dinner as to make one too lazy to navigate," said Uncle Phil, settling himself down in a big arm-chair by the open Franklin stove in the cozy j ^ back parlor. " Wasn't it a rouser? Did you ever eat such a dinner before?" asked tenyear-old Robbie Macy, sitting ^own on the rug in front of Uncle PhiL " Humph! I eat a better dinner years and years ago than vo?^ had today, when I was a littlC* ^ 10 larger than you," Uncle Phil sLd, mf . teasingly. And Rob answered* doubttee bow such a good--?nmer .as we had," let alone a better one. Why, mamma said you lived way out West, where lots of Indians were." Uncle Phil laughed. "So you infer, because there were Indians out where we were, that we had nothing to eat. Do you?" "I suppose you had something to j 3at," Hob replied, roguishly; "but 1I / don't believe 'twas plum-pudding and ! great big slices of turkey-breast. Xow, j was it. Uncle Phil?" ""We didn't have plum-pudding, | that's a fact; and we didn't have great j slices of white turkey-breast, that's another fact; but, Rob, we had slices of dark turkey breast?nice, juicy wild turkey, i can tell you it was good, too." "Pho! I don't like dark meat. I'm glad I was not there." And Rob turned a somersault over to Rover, El i who lay peacefully on the other side j of the big velvet rug. "Rob!" "Veil, sir." tt T i-~n ~ *4. ^ oucui x im >uu <t siury auouo <t: Thanksgiving we had out "\Yest, when j I was a boy?" Rob stood at his uncle's knees in less than a minute, with wide-awake, delighted eyes. "Oh! Uncle Phil. Yes, do. You always tell such splendid stories. But perhaps there won't be anything in a Thanksgiving story about bears." And Rob's face grew a trifle serious. " How about Indians ?" " Oh! Uncle Phil, if you can tell a Thanksgiving story about Indians, 111 be the happiest boy in town." "We won't promise, but we'll see about it. Go and call the rest of the I children, Rob." " Come, Dan and Walter and (Xel-j lie !" called Rob. "Uncle Phil is go-! , ing to tell a rousing Indian story."i "Did I say so?" asked Uncle" Phil, trying to look savage. " I know so ! You can't fool me!" Rob answered, wisely. ?" "You can begin now, Uncle Phil," Nellie said, coaxingly, leaning her } curly head Uncle Phil's ps&x. " The company's all gofiefand it'll be so nice to wind up ^ ?ae dav listening to a thrilling Indian frT story." I Nellie shivered in anticipation of i the horrible things she expected to; hear. Uncle Phil, noticing, said : j ' "Don't get to shaking, Nellie. My ; story will be more laughable than ; thrilling, I fancy. And lo ! I begin.' There were eight of us who had | our home in that Western hut, made of j cottonwood logs. But, children, I j thought I saw a pair of black eyes, with a good deal of white about them, peering into the door just now. Perhaps there is somebody there who wants to hear the story." ^ " It's nobody but Ait," Jaughed j Hob; "but I say, Uncle Phil, why, Kv can't Alf come in and listen to the j story? He hasn't anything to do just | " That's thoughtful of you, Eob, HE and just what I wanted. Call him in, And so, a moment later, Alfs eyes W^--. grew rounder and whiter than ever as he listened to the Thanksgiving j " Those were troubled times with j Western folks. The Indians were not I very near us; indeed, father never had a fear in regard to the Indians attackr - ing us. Xo one whom we knew of, living within twenty miles of us, had v been troubled by the Indians. One jt day in October*we children had been i ot?the afte ^on, having a happy gatf* ed yards and yards jfe_frite clematis and beautiV* even Bathsheba - d" aded like a . Bg;t oi the B. r columbines i Bt^islature is not do | Kit iarge class of I $ the ?> J "Such a funny name, Uncle Phil, i Who was Bathsneba?" " Bathsheba was our only sister. A pretty girl, too, I do assure you, notwithstanding her outlandish name, j She had blue eyes and golden hair, and we boys almost worshiped her, because she was so beautiful and good. She didn't dress much like you, Xellie ; but she looked pretty enough, in her plain blue flannel dress, which came down half way between knees and ankles, leaving her white feet bare. I told you there were eight of usThere was father, mother, Aunt Huldah and the hired man, Nick Vose, Bathsheba, Ephraim. Jeremiah and myself. Well, that October day, after we had gathered all the clematis and 'columbines we wanted, we carried them home to mother, tacked the pretty vines all around the cottonwoou logs ana mea a oig jar with the columbines. Then -we were off again?.Jeremiah and I shooting wild game and Eph going with Bathsheba to gather some beautful ferns, which grew in the belt of woods a quarter of a mile from the hut, our home. The short day was drawing to a close and Eph and . Bathsheba had not yet joined us. " 'Come on!' I said to Jerry. 'Let's go home. I'm as hungry as a hunter.' " 'And you are a hunter,' laughed Jerry gleefully, as he pointed to the string of wild ducks which were suspended from my shoulders. "'But, Phil,' he added,'I think we better wait for the others. Mother might be anxious if we should get home without them.' "4 What would make her anxious ?' I asked, scornfully. "' Indians!' Jerry bawled in my ear. '"Indians!' I answered. 'You know better. There ain't a redskin within fifty miles of us.' But even as I spoke "F.nh toward us with Bathsheba in his arms. His face was white with fright, and hers white with what? Was it death? We did not know. Jerry threw down his gun and his prairie chickens, and I my ducks, as we jan to meet them. "'What's fee trouble, Eph?' we both asked at once. " ' Bathsheba's fainted. Can't you see?' he answered, in a troubled voice. '"Run for <inmn -R-at.pr Onir?lr f' And he laid her do^arn on the dead maple leaves which covered the-green sward, still holding his arm tenderly under her head. Jerry ran for water, while I rubbed my sister's hands and asked, anxiouslv: ' What made her faint, Eph?' ' Hush!' he said sternly. ' I can't tell you now. Wait until we get Bathsheba safe back with mother. Then I'll have something that is something to tell you.' " Eph's tragic tone roused all my curiosity; but I knew him too well to question any further. Jerry came with the water from the brook, and he and I bathed her face vigorously. She awoke with a gasp, and looked into Eph's face with a startled, ques tioning look. "'Don't worry, Bathsheba,' Eph said, soothingly. ' We'ie most home, and safe, too ' "Safe, too. What could he mean? Jerry asked him, but received no -answer,, except a warning look. __ JWell, made "a 'seat' out 'of "and Eph. Mfted nerup into it. Then -we carried her home, Eph bringing our game and other things. Father and Xick Yose were away from home, but mother and Aunt Huldah met us at the door. "'There's nothing the matter, mother,' was Eph's cheery greeting. Only she's pretty well frightened at? nothing.' " 'Oh! Eph, at nothing!' Bathsheba said, in a remonstrating voice, as she sat up and realized where she was. " 4 Oh ! mother, 'twas a great, big, fierce-looking Indian who frightened me so. Eph didn't see him, because he was bending over a great, beautiful fern ?hat I wanted so much; but I saw him distinctly. His big, feathered head loomed up out of a ^lump of young trees, and I'm sure his big mouth was grinning in delight over us?two children alone in the woods. Eph was a little way off, and I didn't dare call to him, for fear the Indian j might scalp us; and so I threw my basket at Eph's head. That's all i know about it.' " Mother looked at Eph, and he said, with a laugh: 'And she hit me, too, mother, a sounding thump. I thought i maybe the " cow with the crumpled | horn " had got hold of me, and, turn- j ing to see, I saw Uathsheba motioning j to me. I understood, by the way she ! pointed and worked her lingers, that j she meant there were Indians around.; Then I saw her tumble over, and 1; picked her up and came home.' " 'Well! well!' mother said, m atone j which meant not well. 'I shall be ' afraid to go to bed if there are any j Indians about, and father away and j Kick Vose, too.' " 'It's my opinion that there ain't! an Indian within miles of us. Bath-1 sheba's an imaginative girl. I've no j doubt that 'twas the tree-branches i swaying in the wind that she took for | a redskin's head.' " 'You can think what you're a mind to, Aunt Jtiuiuan; out jl Know uvas an Indian,' Bathsheba said, decidedly, j "Bathsheba was right; for the very j next morning the sad news came that j a whole family, less than a mile from j us, had been murdered in the night j and their log hut left bare and deso-1 late. After that father and Xick j came home every night, whether con- j venient or not, and it was often very inconvenient to come home when they : were miles away, cutting logs; but, as j days and weeks passed by, we heard j nothing more of the Indians and we began to breathe easy again. It lacked only two days of Thanksgiving when father recer' * word from a man over in the nexV^ettlement to come over and attend tocSome urgent business. He took Xick Vose with him and also Eph, he being the oldest, as it was necessary to bring back several loads of lumber, and Eph could manage oxen as well as Nick could. Wall thof votv (ivpninrr .Tprrv and T hurried through our ehores to help Aunt Huldah pick some ducks for Thanksgiving. Mother was sick with a cold and she did not help : but she talked and laughed with us as we worked. Pretty soon we heard steps ; outside, and Aunt Huldah said : ? ?periiaps our men are back. I do i hope they are.' "But Jerry jumped up quickly, and j drew the bars across the door. Bathsheba's blue eyes grew round with ! amazement, and she said : * Why, Jerry, \ do you mean to lock father out ?' "' Look!' he said, pointing to the j little window. Ah! that look! how it; frightened us, and our sick, timid; uiuwitri i<uii> sinicA.ru. -u ivi i/am- , sheba, she wrung her hands in agony.. "'Hush! every one of you,' Jerry ; said, in a commanding tone, as if he was general of an army. 4 Here, j Phil, you get mother and Bathsheba over in that corner and keep guard, while Aunt Haldah and I run up the ladder and look out the loop-hole, and see if there's many of them,'" Alf's curiosity could wait no Ion-1 ger. " What (lid ye see, Massa ? Was it b'ars. big. black b'ars. lookin' in at de windy ?" "Xo, Alf," answered Uncle Phil. " Xot bears, but savage Indians. We I looked out the loop-hole (that's what j we called a little round hole over the : door) and we saw one Indian near our j house, and another, with his back to j the house, a little way oil. Father,; i Xick and Eph had taken the guns, and | j we were at a loss to know what to do i -** T- f a V>i*ooV in : II tills i.Illlkclli."> dUUUlU LL\ IV UlCtta an. ! Suddenly there was a loud pounding j on the door. We went down and! : A unt Iluldah asked what was wanted.' They wouldn't answer, but whacked j away until I thought every minute the j : door would give way. Aunt Iluldah : ! rushed down the ladder, and motioned [ ! to Jerry and me to follow her. We | | went with her into a little room, par- j ; titioned off from the kitchen, where a j ; barrel of the strongest kind of soft; soap stood. We each carried a pail of | that terrible soap up the ladder to the loft, and then crept up from the loft to the roof. Then, creeping along softly to the edge of the roof, we saw j the two Indians flashing their bright I blades into the cottonwood door. "'No time to lose,' whispered Auntj | Huldah. And we three together emp- i | tied our buckets of soft soap over \ rp^skins. Oh ? such shrieks as i rent the air, as the Indians danced around and rubbed their eyes, in awful pain. "We felt sorry, Jerry and I; but Aunt Huldah said she didn't. 4 If hadn't done it, they would have killeSs and scalped us all,' she said, wisely. " Xo one slept that night, and the ducks did not get picked, either ; but by early daylight father came homo. His face was ashen gray as we drew back the bars to let him in. He looked at each of us in turn, then, seating himself in a chair, he, strong man that he was, burst into tears. "' Are you sick, dear father ?' BathcVioh;* cnui orninor nn tn him and rnit j UUVUl. J ! ting her arms about his neck. My I father was a Christian, and, gathering Bathsheba's golden head to his bosom, he said: "Xot sick, child; but overcome with thankfulness, "Word came to us this morning that several families had been scalped during the' night and that mine was one of them. II didn't wait to tell Eph and Xick, but j sent word to them to come home as I soon as they could, and hurried on ahead. When I reached the ' Corners,' I found that the Stevensons were gone, root and branch, and my heart sank within me; but I find my home unmolested, thank God!' Then we told him that we had been attacked and that our weapon had been soft soap. We thought father would j I laugh; but he did not. lie onlv| said,! I reverently: 4 Thank God for soft i soap!' "Xick and Eph came home [that afternoon. They had heard the sor; rowful story, too, and I tell you we I had a general hugging all around, i " And then Thanksgiving .day I | dawned. Such a dinner! Seems to | me I can taste it yet. Any way. I can j remember every single tning we nau. We had roast wild ducks and baked, fish, and the nicest, roundest little roast pig I ever saw. It had a lemon | in its mouth and a bunch of parsley ^pjo^dits curly tail, and it stood oh a K^d^jgrfien parsley, v ^hen $e had Rfettg^ea^'oakied potatoes ahd turnips, and the best succotash and baked beans that could be imagined, and then those broiled quails. Oli! Rob, I wish you could taste such quails." " Didn't you have any pudding? " " I don't think we did ; we had pies ?pumpkin, mince, apple and custard." " And was that all ? " asked Hob. "Xo, we ^ .1 one thing more. t "We all got dc -ir knees and thanked Gocl. F. . * that was the'finishing toucl " A Beard Twelve Feet Lone. Adam Kirpen, of Chicago, who possesses the longest beard in the world, is sixty-six years of age, is five feet eleven inches tall, and a perfect specimen of a robust, though aged, German. By means of his beard he has amassed ! a considerable fortune, but, not with- j standing, he endeavors to sell his plio- | tographs on the plea of poverty. The beard which he at present wears has attained the wonderful lengtli of nearly twelve feet. He disposes of this rather unwieldy appendage when walking on the street by rolling it around a leathern. t>elt suspended about his neck, The length of the beard is such that he can place both feet upon it, and the other end. upon beincr lifted up. reaches a few inches above his head. The beard, which is of a dull gray color, is quite thick, and is the result of twentytwo years' uninterrupted growth. From his youth Kirpen gave evidence of becoming as bearded as F^au. At eleven years of age he was uraer the necessity of shaving, and at fourteen had a large bushy beard, which, added to his robust frame, caused people to frequently confound hiniTS; being his father's brother. "When ho entered the German army I as i.ctilierist his mustache was three | feet in length, and lie experienced i about as much trouble in partaking of ] his meals as Victor Emanuel, of whom it is related that he tied his mustachios together behind his ears when about to eat. He was the wonder and delight of the fair sex, and received innumerable privileges from the officers on account of his appearance. It was not until he came to America that he allowed full sway to the grooving properties of his beard. When the beard was five feet long he sold it to a Chicago museum for $75. From that time, twenty-two years ago, no razor hits been applied to his face, and the | beard has steadily grown and is still ; growing, having increased two feet J since 1877. The hairs branch out like j a tree, some having as many as a dozen ' splits. The old man has one son, but j the beard does not seem to be lieredi-; tary, as he found it a difficult matter ! to raise a beard previous to his thirtieth ! year. His grandfather was remark- j able, however, in having his limbs and I body covered with hair nearly twelve j inches long. Falconry Revived. After remaining under a cloud for a couple of centuries the once fash- j ionable and exciting sport of falconry is again making its appearance. The ; English hawking clul> rented a Scotch ! moor for the season, and tried the j ol.Jll ^.1.o rl/ivnn foln/inc Tho ' OIVUl VI a uv//,v.u nuvvuo. j.**v j majority of the peregrines proved j comparative failures, either through i want of training or inadequate pace to I get up to the swift-flying grouse. The | collapse of these inferior birds is a' proof, at the outset, that none but j well-trained and swift falcons can V ; used with any effect on the moors. On ; the other hand, four of the falcons ! were credited with the best part of one j hundred brace of grouse, which was \ the result of one month's sport. One : of the hawks struck as many as five ! grouse in one day, showing remark-! able skill in " waiting on " above the I setter, remaining poised high in air j till the quarry was roused and then j I making the swoop with certainty. * j Fishes that Sin? and Dan^e. Lieutenant White, of the American j service, in his "Voyage to the Chinese j Seas," relates that, being at the mouth of the Cambodia, his crew and himself were greatly astonished by hearing unaccountable sounds from beneath and around the vessel. They were various, like the bass notes of an organ, the sound of bells, the croaking j of l'rogs. and a pervading twang which : the imagination might have attributed to some enormous harp. For a time | the mysterious music swelled upon them, and linallv formed a universal , chorus all round, but as the vessel , ascended the river the sounds dimin-' ished in strength and finally ceased. j Humboldt was witness to a similar ; occurrence in the South sea, but with- ] out suspecting the cause. Toward 7 | o'clock in the evening the whole crew was astonished by an extraordinary noise, which resembled that of drums J; which were beating in the air. It was j at first attributed to the breakers, j' Speedily it was heard in the vessel, and ; especially toward the poop. It was like a boiling, the noise of "he air , which escapes from tluid in ebulition. The sailors began to fear there was some leak in the vessel. It was heard i unceasingly in all parts of the vessel, and finally, about 9 o'clock, it ceased altogether. The interpreter belonging to Lieutenant White's ship stated that the marine music, which had so much surprised the crew, was produced by fishes of flattened, oval form, which possessed the faculty of adhering to various bodies by their mouths. This I fish might have been the pogonia. The music of the sea is heard in the | Bay of West Paseagoula, and is de- \ scribed by those who have listened to I it as singularly pleasant. "It has for i a long time," observes Mrs. Green, an j American writer, "been one of the I greatest wonders of the southwest. | Multitudes have heard it, rising as it were from the water, like a drone of a bagpipe, then floating away in the distance, soft, plaintive and fairy-like, as if JEolian harps sounded with richer melody through the liquid element; but none have been able to account for the phenomenon. There are several legends touching these mysterious sounds; but in these days few things are allowed to remain mysteries;; some have ascribed the sounds to the catfish." The sensibility of fishes to the sound of music has been commented upon by writers. The alose (belonging to the chipeidte) has been noticed for its love of music and dancing by ancient writers. Aristotle says that it no cr.mnav oofz-.Vioo tlio cnitnrl /vf TIT fYl* OWXI^L l/UWllVO V1JV v?. ?v?w w h sees dancing than it is irresistibly led to join the sport and cut capers and throw somersaults out of the water. yElian declares that the sprightly conduct imputed to the shad by Aristotle was well known to fisherman, who, taking advantage of it. fastened little bells to their nets, by the tinkling of which above ihe fish within hearing were attracted to the spot and netted without difficulty. A somewhat similar mode of catching fish is had .recourse t? by ti e boatmen or t?re IX-fflubeNwho arch across and keep tense upon stronger hung with grelots, a floating net, and so ring in a great number of fist; by the ticklingpof- these bells. Rondolet, the famOus naturalist, gave a romantic Instance of the fondness for music of Ashes. When staving at Vichy lie took a walk with some friends in quest of alose along the banks of the Allier, with violin in hand ready for i. seren- j ade. The air was still, the mcon and j stars shining brilliantly. "When the i party had come to a favorable spot for the operation a net was carefully drawn across the stream, while the violinist, putting his instrument to his chin, st ruck up a lively waltz. A wonderful effect ensued. Scarcely had he drawn^j&bow when the sleeping sur-1 face of thcraters began to move, alose j backs appeared, rippling the silvery j expanse, and after a few strokes a j large party of fish might be seen rising j and leaping in the water, Child Killed by a Bear. The "Washington Critic tells the stoiy of the death of a little gypsy in the arms of a bear in the gypsj camp near "Washington, thus : It appears that several of the children were teas-! ing the attenuated animal, which had I been chained to a sapling by its i swarthy master, when suddenly a threeyear-old youngster, who had been poking a stick at bruin, approached too near, and was seized suddenly by J the animal and crushed to death. One i of the men, hearing the animal growl, ; tried to save the inl'ant, but arrived on | the scene too late. "Whereupon, seiz-1 ing a large club, he beat thi bear ( nearly to death. The child was buried a few hours ' later by the roadside,-and the band j packed its luggage^ and moved along, j hardly missing tl^c little dead infant I from the motley throng of bears, ! monkeys, dogs, donkeys and villainous- J looking humans. The/ceremor y over : the grave of the infant was a very curious one. The entire band taking hold of each other's hands formed a I cirr-lfi arminil the onen hole Cfor it eer- j tainlv was not a grave) and chanted a I doleful melody, tlen like the witches | in " Macbeth " went round and round, j Suddenly stopping, one of the r.ien re- j peated a jargon prayer; then In concert men, women and children chanted ] " Melah, Melah, Melah." This ended the ceremony, and all | hands engaged in covering up the I corpse, which had been placed in the ' grave on a bed of dried leaves, and ; covered copious! ' v.! .'.e same. Statistics of the Presidency. The following is an analysis of the j occupancy of the presidential office irom Xlit- or<ra.lii/.uu<m m uregmuu-; ment under the Federal Constitution to the end of the present term, showing ' the length of serviceof the incumbents and th<; States of which they were residents. It will be seen that the i Eastern States elected three of their j citizens to that high position, serving gne term each. The Middle States elected two and inherited fractions of i two. The "Western States elected live, i who. if death had not interposed, j would have held the office twenty-j eight years. The Southern States : elected seven: Southern States. States. Dates. Ys. Mo. j Washington Ya 1789-1797 8 .. ! Jefferson Va.... 1801-1809 8 ..I Madison Va... .l-SKMSl? 8 .. Monroe Va 1S17-1825 8 .. Tyler* Va.... 1841-1845 3 11 j Jackson Tenn..l829-lS37 8 ; Polk Tenn..184:1-1849 4 .. ! Tavlor La 1849-1850 1 ' T~w * Tonn ISlo-lSffi) 3 n I Westebn States. Harrison Ohio. .1841-1841 .. 1 Lincoln Ill ....1861-1864 4 1 Grant Ill ....1869-1877 8 .. Hayes Ohio.. 1877-1881 4 Garfield Ohio. .1881-1881 .. 6 Middle States. Van Buren N. Y.. 1837-1841 4 .. ! Fillmore* N. Y. .1850-1853 2 8; Buehanc u Penn. 1857-1861 4 .. Arthur* N. Y.. 1881-1881 .. .. ! Eastern States. J.Adams Mass. .1797-1S01 4 .. J."O.Adams Mass.. 1825-1829 4 Pierce X. H..1853-1857 4 .. j ^Elected vicc-prcsi4eut, i Moslem Forms and Ceremonies. The life of a good Moslem seems all interwoven with forms-and ceremonies, and the law of the Koran or some such sacred words seems forever on his lips, mixing most freely with all secular matters. Xo action, however trivial, may be commenced without commending it to Allah. A ilohammedan will not even light a lamp without blessing the name of the prophet. Even the cries of the str:-et hawkers bring in frequent allusions to a spiritual market, as when the / poor watercarrier offers a cup of cool, refresiling drink to all passers-by, crying aloud, ' Oh! may God reward me!" Whatever be the matter in hand, on^ of the com?'ill rtArfom ITT Tiff AT cAmo cnr?h ro J,'Ciiljr >> JLIX LtlliiiJ vtwwv*. m/iuv whvm *v j minder as " Semmoo," aril his friends will reply " Eismillab," meaning in the name of God.,' In truth, the fatalism of which we hear so much seems little else than a strong faith ; a power of living calmly as in the presence of God "(just as the strongest practical characteristics .of a poor Hindoo's faith seems to be a simple submission to the will of the Almighty, under whatever he may recognize Him). So fait^-or fatalism seems well-nigh to mer^*, and our own Scotch expression of "It was been to be" seems tolerably akin to the " Kismet" of the East. I remember an old housemaid ^being sorely perturbed at having knocked over and smashed a valuable china vase; but a few minutes later she recovered her equanimity and exclaimed: "Weel, weel! iz had been lang -i' the family, and it was been to be {.broken !" so laying this flattering unction to her soul, she went calmly Ton with her dusting. Lane, speaking of this continual allusion to the providence of God, mentions that no? Moslem will speak of any future event or action without adding, " If it ?c the will of God." lie explains the; cries of the night watchmen, whose deep-toned voices resound through ike dark hours. One man cries: " 0 Ebrd' 0 Everlasting!'' Another sa%&: "I extol the perfection of the ^living King, who sleepeth not, nor dieth." He tells, too, of a mode of Ijitertaming a party ol: guests in Cair<?by the recital of a kliatmeh, which m&ns the whole of the Xoran chanted ?by men hired for the occasion. Just imagine inviting a party in Londopa to hear the whole Bible chanted 4s a pastime, with an accompaniment of pipes and coffee. Mr. Lane alsofspeaks of the reverence with whiqk the Holy I3ook is treated?alwaysjplaced on some high, clean place, wher^no other book or anything else may fcfc laid above it. He attributes the Moh^nmedan's dislike to printing their sac$|tl books to the dread lest impurity should attach to the ink, the paper, or, above all, ltst the ink should be applied to t&e holy name with a brush made of^og's bristles. "Worse than all, the fcak, becoming thus common, is in doiible danger of being touched by infidels. This dread of dishonoring sacred jjiames extends even to the ninety-nine titles of the prophet and the names Of those near of kin to him. Thus one -man will refuse to stamp his name upon his pipe bowls because it bears one of the . names of to pass through "tlTatire. Atttftliei man, less scrupulous, is blamed because he h& branded. name, which is also a sacred name,"i)ii (S^rjaln cam els and horses. The sin thus committed is threefold: First, the iron brand is put in the fire, which is horrible sacrilege; secondly, it is applied to the neck of the camel, causing blood to flow and pollute the sacred name; thirdly, the camel is certain some day, in lying down, to rest his neck on something unclean. This dread of casting holy things into the fire does not, however, seem to apply to such as can be consumed. A "Mohammedan, finding a fragment of paper covered with writing, will burn it, so that if holy words should be thereon inscribed the flames may bear them up and the angels carry them to Heaven.?Gentleman's Magazine. Canning Corn. A correspondent desires to know something of the process of canning com in the large establishments. The li rst operation is the shelling of the corn. By one machine in use the ear of corn is placed in a groove, back of a wheel, and in the twinkling of an eye the ear of corn is passed forward through the sheller, and the corn drops into a receiver and a clean cob drops beside the machine. An experienced man can shell between two and three thousand pounds of corn a day. The corn is next taken to the cleaner, where two men thoroughly clean it by sifting it through a large sieve.. By this method not even a thread of silk of the Conor a particle of dirt is left in the corn. This cleaner is a recent invention, and it saves the work of twelve women whose part it was to wash the corn. The coin by this new process is also made much cleaner. The next process is to press the corn into the can. This part of the work requires a man of experience in tne ousiness. ine corn is passed from the press to a table, where a woman weighs it and passes it to another who washes it, and she in turn passes it to a third who wipes, and passes it to a boy who puts on it a cap of tin, and it is then ready to be soldered. The cans are then placed on trucks and wheeled into the boiling room, where the cans are first put into tanks of hot water and boiled for thirty minutes. They are then taken out, a small hole pricked in each can to let out the air, and then the cans are soldered again. The cans are next put into steam retorts, where they are left from fifty to sixty minutes. This is also a new process. By the old way it. t.onk four hours to cook the corn. The cars are taken from the retorts and wheeled into a large room, where they are labeled and packed into boxes ready to be shipped. Before leaving the factory every can is tested twice to ascertain if it is air-tight, for if it was not so it would quickly spoil. Maine corn in quality and flavor stands at the head in the markets of Philadelphia, Xew York and other cities, and should readily command the highest prices. The reason why Maine corn stands at the head is that the fruits and vegetables that are grown in climates where the growing season is short are always of a better flavor than those grown in places where the seasons are longer.?Boston Cultivator. It is es timated that nearly 2,000,000,000 pounds of paper are produced annually, one-half of which is used for printing, a sixth for writing and the remainder is coarse paper for packing and other rmrnoses. The United States alone produce yearly 200,0 6 tons of paper, averaging seventeen pounds per head for its population. The Englishman coraes next, with about twelve pounds rer head; the educated German takes eight pounds, the Frenchman seven pounds, while the Italian. Spaniard and Piussian lake, respectively, three pounds, one and one-half pounds and one pound annually, the consumption of paper being roughly in proportion to the education and intellectual activity o^.the people V nPVC THE ORKxIX OF CALCULATION. ; Hotv IWeu Came to Learn to Count by Using . Their Fingers and Tally Sticks. Mr. Joseph Hardcastle recently tie-! livered an address before the Institute ! of Accountants and Bookkeepers on " The Origin of Calculation as I>duced from Evidence in Languages*'" i Mr. Hardcastle said it was not sur-1 prising that during the earlier races of mankind the systems of computation were never intricate or elaborate, as their needs were simple and few. The ~ i i.i xi.- i: nuinuer uiree wus me limit ui anuimetical conception of many of the ancient races, five of others and ten in still others. It "was rather cuiious that none of the ancient limits are expressed by six, seven, eight or nine, but the explanation was given by the speaker later on in his address. In the stricter sense of limits of intelligence, meaning the idea conveyed by numbers, how very few, even in this enlightened age, are able to comprehend and take in large numbers. For instance, take two maps, one containing 1,000 objects and the other. 1,001, and who can dete.cWb^ difference. Yet the same difference (one) divides two and three. Thanks taouagvstem of notation, we can proceed*iirall cases of comparison and estimation as readily as if the maps were of three and four objects only. The word calculation is derived from the Latin calculus, a pebble. There are several familiar Latin phrases in which the word occurs, showing that pebbles were used to count with by the Komans. The Thracians used white pebbles to mark fortunate days and a black one for the ancient Fridays. The system of counting and comparing numbers by means of these pebbles was illustrated as follows : There are two Hocks of sheep to be counted and compared. As the first flock passed one by one, a pebble is dropped in a basket for each sheep until all have passed ; then the other flock is enumerated in the same manner. Then a pebble is taken from each basket alternately until one basket is exhausted, and thus the comparative numbers of the flocks are ascertained. The pebble thus played an important part in the calculations of primitive nations. Some nations, however, had better natural facilities in the chalk and slate found in their countries, and one can hardly imagine a race so low in intelligence as- not to be able to make some rse of such materials. Straight lines were marked with the chalk on the slate until the limit of comprehension was reached, to wit, five, which would be shown by a mark drawn at an angle across four other marks, and this system was continued with similar sets until their minds became clouded and their capacity could reach no further. This is a step in advance of the pebble system and has been handed down to us, and we use it in sets of five. in consulting me cucuonary 11, is found that the word number is derived from the Latin numerus, which is probably taken from numus, a small silver coin, which was possibly used for the same purpose as the pebbles and finally became a medium for the interchange of products. These chalk marks are now called "tallies," and in Webster it is found *hafc,. before thg days of. writing, in 1*^" had a stick on which was marked orTiS^^, the quantity of goods bought and sole.. These two sticks were each a check upon the other, and were received as evidence in courts of justice. Connect the giving with one scoring check and the receiving with the other, and remembering that the number of notches agree, and no matter how many of these sticks there may be the sum of the ffivimr scores will agree with the sum of the receiving scores. A complete system of double-entry j bookkeeping, showing that, as that! system had no beginning, it will have no end. The next step in the onward progress is the system of counting by digits or lingers, which is still employed by children and even by persons of maturer minds. Here is the explanation of the fact that some of the primitive nations could only count up to five, while others could count to ten; the one race only comprehending the use of one hand in counting, the other understanding the use of both. After getting beyond five there is no reason for stopping at any of the inmi ml tare rrhc? rlirrif evefom w-tajiv ^fWwv*A4 is a long step in advance of the other systems. To complete the digit system and remedy its defects a philosophical language is required. The requirements are a means of communication, a mechanical aid to thought and an instrument of record and reference. The combination of the digit and tally systems will give the requirements. Instead of erecting a finger, make a sloping mark I; then to show that one hand lias been used make another stroke at a different angle, meeting the first at its base, thus forming A'. When both hands have been used add to thisV another one inverted thus forming an X, and givingthemeans of symbolizing from I to X. Thus, I, II, III (omitting four for the present), V, VI, VII, (omiting nine), X. By nnrvthpr sten TV and IX are made, the left hand position of I signifying subtraction. This is the Roman system, and is now only used for special purposes, being too cumbrous and wearisome for ordinary use. The only way to improve this method was to improve it out of existence, at least for the purposes of calculation, by inventing a new system. The Arabic notation has done that. There are in this system ten svmbols or figures?6,1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9. Drowned on His Wedding Day. At Baltimore August West field, a young man, a clerk in a mercantile house, was to have been married to Miss Julia Sewell. The marriage license had been procured, a minister engaged, and the guests bidden to a bridal banquet, un tne morning 01 the bridal day, as the groom elect, with a friend, was crossing the Broadway ferry to Locust Point, he com-1 plained of having a chill. "Westfield crossed to the opposite side of the steamer and perched himself on the railing in position to allow the sun's rays to fall on him. Suddenly, when the steamer was in mid-harbor, he lost his balance and fell overboard. lie rose on'-e, and was heard to cry "Julia," and then he disappeared. The body was recovered, and by some mistake sent to the house of his bride elect, who gained her first information of the tragedy by seeing the dead body of her betrothed. Bit Off the Baby's Hair. I A. remancaoie instance ui appearance versus superstition came to my knowledge recently. A gardener's wife having an infant in arms with long hair on its head, was desirous of improving the child's appearance by cropping it, but as it is said to be unlucky to cut a baby's hair, she gained the desired end by biting it off with her teeth! The incident occurred in an adjoining village.?Notes and Queries, A STARTLING RECORD. Li?t ofStfoaniern Lost in the Atlantic-?Over j Five Thousand Lives Lost. It is a startling fact that in the space j of forty-one years since the unfortu- i nate "President" left Xew York, on March 11, 1841, never again to appear ; co mortal ken. nearly seventy-five mail j steamers, including the West Indian j mail-boats, have been utterly destroyed j 'while on their passage across the At-; lantic. Of these, seven, after leaving j port, mysteriously disappeared and have ; never since been heard of; six were run j down by or collided with other vessels; i five were burned: one ran on sunken i ice in the Straits of Belle Isle; another ' went down in a field of ice; two foun-! dered in mid-ocean, and the remainder | of the melancholy list were wrecked! either on the Irish or British coasts, j on those of America, or oh the islands j or rocks off them. Fully eight of these ran in foggy weather on the shores of either Nova Scotia or Newfoundland on their westward voyages, a sufficient warning, it might be supposed, to captains .to give a wide berth in those latitudes. Only one, the Iowa, an American steamer,. was . wrecked- on .the, French coast, near fierboiffg, in 1S&L It is generally supposed that shipwrecks are caused by the rage of the elements, but of all the vessels that went on shore only three or four appear to have directly suffered in consequence of the heavy weather. Comparatively few of these shipwrecks occurred without serious loss of nf 1 nofliro f aiioot> A r>orcAnc VlOVO JJ.1.C, au ;caou ii > k. uivuoauu UM ? ^ , perished among the passengers and crews who were on board. "When the Atlantic was wrecked on Meagher's Head off Xova Scotia, in 1S73, no less than 5G2 persons were drowned. With the City of Glasgow 480 people disappeared ; with the President, 120 ; with the Pacific, 186, and with the City of Boston, the last of the missing steamships, 191. "When the Austria was burned in mid-ocean, 470 lives were lost; with the Arctic, 323; with the Anglo-Saxon, 372; with the Yille du Havre, 226; with the Borussia, 200 ; and with the Schiller, 311. The destruction of other vessels caused the loss of fewer lives than those named, as, happily, fewer passengers were on board; but with several on the list from one hundred to two hundred beings perished. In 1873 no less than six large steamships were wrecked, run down or disappeared, the most disastrous losses being those of the Atlantic and the Ville du Havre. The following list of lost Atlantic steamers is as complete as the records within reach supply: 1841?President, mysteriously disappeared. 1843?Columbia, wrecked on coast of Xova Scotia. 1846?Great Britain, wrecked on coast of Ireland ; Tweed, on Alacrames Reef, off Yucatan. 1848?Forth, wrecked on same reef. 1850?Helena Sloman, foundered. 1852?St. George, burned ; Amazon, burned. 1853?Humbolt, wrecked on coast of Nova Scotia. 1854?City of Glasgow, disappeared, Franklin, wrecked; Arctic, run down ; City of Philadelphia, wrecked. 1856?Pacific, disappeared; LeLyonnais, run down. , 1857?Tempest, disappeared 3Ion1859?Argo, ~ im?~ Newfoundland; Indian '"recked on coast of Nova Scotia; Hungarian, wrecked on same coast. 18G0?Connaught, l)urned. 1861?Canadian wrecked on sunken ice; North Britain, wrecked. 1863 ? Norwegian, Anglo Saxon, j Georgia?all wrecked off Nova Scotia. 1864?Bohemian, wrecked off Nova Scotia; City of New York, wrecked on Irish coast; Jura, wrecked at mouth of Mersey; Iowa, wrecked off Cherbourg. 1865?Glasgow, burned. 1866?Scotland, run down. 1868?Hibernin, foundered. J.OUU Kj HICC\.l OLtlLCi?, ^KXj Germania andCloopatra, both wrecked oil coast of Newfoundland. 1870?City of Boston, disappeared Cambria, wrecked on the Irish coast. 1872?Dacian, wrecked on coast of Xova Scotia; Tripoli, wrecked on Irish coast. 1873?Brittania, wrecked in the Clyde; Atlantic, wrecked on coast of Xova Scotia; Isniaillia, disappeared; Missouri, wrecked on the Bahamas; Ville du Havre, run down; City of Washington, wrecked on coast of Xova Scutia. 1875? Schiller, wrecked on one of the Scilly iles; Vicksburg, went down in a field of ice; Deutschland, wrecked on English coast. 1877?George Washington, foundered off Cape Race. 1878?Metropolis, (bound from Philadelphia to Para, with workmen and materials for the Medeira and Mamore railroad), driven ashore on Currituck beach, X. C., in a violent gale and wrecked; Sardinian, burnt at the entrance of LondonderrvsfeSrbor. * 1879?Borussio, foundered at sea; Montana, wrecke^^n "Welsh coast; State of Virginia, ashore on Sable island and wrecked; Pomerania, ran down in English channel. 1S80?July 16, bottle picked up off Irish coast, containing memorandum signed by the engineer, stating that the steamer Zanzibar was sinking. Vessel left New York for Glasgow, January 11, 1879, and has never been heard of since. City of Vera Cruz, foi '.dered by a cyclone off Florida coast; Anglia, run down. 1881?Bohemian, wrecked on Irish coast; Leon, foundered; Montgomeryshire, lost. 1882?Mosel, wrecked on coast of Cornwall; Edam, run down by the j Lepanto. Both thi ) losses due to fog. Cranks in the Great City. Anybody who goes about much in Xew York, observes the Buffalo Courier correspondent, could point out a score of undoubtedly insane persons who are always at large. One of the queerest is the Queen of Rags, who may be seen daily in the lower part - of the city, fairly festooned with rags ; from head to foot and carrying on her I arm a basket of rotten applt-s. She picks up rotten apples around the j markets and imagines that she peddles them. She is said to be harmless, but so are all the cranks till they do some harm. The woman who owns the City Ilall, or imagines that she does, still calls there the 1st of every month for her rent and wants to see the mayor about it. A very strange character is a sunburned man of about forty, who goes up or down Broadway every day noticing no one. His dress is shabby and soiled, his trousers are i always snort, ms ut'uru uevtri, appaij ently, less than three (lays old, and his ! whole ensemble that of a castaway. : lie is said to be an ex-lawyer. I rej member him years ago as a well dressed i man of somewhat striking appearance. The Canadian papers are telling of an heiress who married the head waiter of a Montreal hotel. This girl had evidently decided to get something to i eat. A KtttAKKAIiLJslj^rERIEA'CL. Strange Career of a Once Famous English Actor?Found the Owbct of a Beautiful liesidcnce in Japan. Some years ago George Pauncefort was a well known actor in this country. He was particularly celebrated as John Mildwav, in the play of " Still "Waters llun Deep." Pauncefort suddenly disappeared from the public gaze, and perhaps nobody would ever have known what became of him had it not been for Joseph Arthur, thebusi ness manager of Willie Edouin's " Sparks." "I found him," said Mr. Arthur. " away back in the interior of beautiful Japan. He had thirteen wivesnatives?and seemed to be happy in the possession of a charming tea plantation." " How did you discover him?" "It was purelyl accidental. Three other persons and myself went inland to visit the celebrated prehistoric statue of Buddha, at Diabutsa. "We traveled by moonlight in the only conveyance known in that country, a sort of perambulator, called a "fiwrickiabaws," liauled by'"natives. At mi'd-night the moon was hiddeirby clouds. In a short time we found ourselves in the midst -of a storm and sought shel1 -3 ? ? ? ? ? ? ^ <* yvvifiA ier unaer me eaves uj. me uuuac we came across. The climate was mild, and, being weary, we fell asleep. Daylight revealed a charming scene. The house, which I could liken to nothing but a large bird cage, stood in the midst of the undulating fields, intersected at regular spaces by little narrow streams of water, kissed by the overhanging branches of bush and tree, and spanned by numerous fairylike bridges. The owner of this house and these lands was George Pauncefort, the English actor, whose^ playing had been witnessed by audPs ences in all the large cities' of the i United States, and some of your old J theatre-goers here and professionals (among these being Mrs. John Drew and Mr. Murphy) remember him as being in Philadelphia." "And what 'took this man to i Japan?" " That," said Mr. Arthur, " is something of a mystery. He is now an octogenarian and something of a recluse. When I saw him he stepped to his door in the early morn clad in a semi-Japanese garb, with long, flowing footong and calash. He wore no shoes; his form was erect, his hair and mustache snowy white, his countenance of a florid hue. He did not seem to be either glad or sorry to see us and we rather invited ourselves in: and as he stood so silent and grave I mentally said: 'John Mildway.' Behind him stood his wives. You have asked me," continued Mr. Arthur, " why he was found in such an out-ofthe-way corner of the globe? I cannot answer that directly, but I think domestic difficulties drove him there." " When we went iuto the house he nnlv uttered three words : 'Mv wives. gentlemen,' but during our stay did not, in the presence of the other parties, express an opinion on any subject or join in the conversation. Subsequently I had a private conversation with him in which he told me many things regarding his past life. He came to this country from England in 1857 and made a great reputation ;is an acmerchant vessef^tS vessel was wrecked off the island of Formosa, near the northern coast of China. He was rescued by the natives, who were not absolute Chinese, but a sort of hybrid race, a cross between the Chinese and Coreans, and were exceedingly savage, so much so that had it not been for a Dutchman who had located there and become friendly with them, Pauncefort would not have I escaped with his life. This Dutchman was engaged on the island extracting dyes from the different woods there and interceded for Pauncefort's life when the natives proposed to kill him. Leaving this inhospitable island, he went to Japan and landed there without money, without friends, having no knowledge of the language or the customs of the country, a lone son of Thespis from afar and with heart bowed down with a weight of woe. At that time there was no treaty between the countries, and the Japanese took no stock in foreigners. However, Paimcefort felt that he had come to stay. He was a man of tact and intelligence, and he acquired the language, in the meantime sustaining himself by writing sketche^of the Europeans and having them translated. Subsequently he i learned tue language wen euuugu | go through tlie country lecturing He i knew something of medicine, and I when lecturing failed him he took to | doctoring, and he suggestingly said tc ! me that lie believed he had succeeded in his medical career in Japan in killing three or four hundred people. Finally he formed a band of native : actors, assuming with great power | some of the leading roles in the Japanese drama, which he pronounces superior in cunning development of plot and sublimity of language to either the French or German drama. Thrice he assumed in the native tongue the role of Yura, the hero of the historical drama of Japan analogous to our 'Hamlet,' and played before the mikado ! 1 - 1 + * flvA Via rfl. j ^i.5 it It?UIO ul tuc 1uiu.v^ jlv! ceiveu unstinted praise from the writers and poets of that country. At his suggestion 1 was led to secure a translation of the play -which is entitled ' Ronius,' and it will be produced in this country next season." " Why did he retire to the tea plantation?" " His acting led to an accession of wealth and fame. He then came tc the conclusion that he would settle down, and sealed to himself a wife? a beautiful Japanese woman, of what is known as the ' Damio' class, or the 4 long-nosed' class. They are as white in complexion as any European, and noted for their beauty. lie then bought a tea and rice plantation, and when 1 vicii-oH him Tip pmnlnvintr ahrmt 150 or 200 laborers, and living a life of ease. He accumulated his othej wives by degrees, I presume, but ali the women seemed to be getting along without domestic jars. At all events Pauncefort has had an experience few Englishmen have had."?Philadelphia Times. Accordinff to X. "W. Avers & Son's American Newspaper Annual for 1882r the number ot newspapers in the United States is now 11,183, being 540 more than was described in this publication last vear. Comparing the list with that of" 18S1, we observe that the number of newspapers has decreased in the following States : Maine, New Hampshire, Vermont, Maryland, Virginia, Georgia, Louisiana and Nevada. Vermont has but sixty-one against seventy-five last year. Each of the other states snows an mcreaseu number, Pennsylvania leading with sixtyeight more than heard from last year, followed by Illinois with fifty-five more, New York"with thirty-nine more, and Missouri with thirty-three more. Only one of the Territories,Arizona, shows a decrease. The list of scientific and mechanical publications foots up 123 against 115 last year. "Please Pass the Salt." A real romance occurred lately In a v : hotel in Montreal. In the hotel the road agent of a respectable company boarded while in the city. In the same hotel an American young lady was domiciled. The lady was pleasant and accomplished. The young gentleman at first viewed the lady admiringly at a distance, but too timid to approachDay by day his interest grew stronger. He had never spoken to her, nor she to him, and, so far as he was concerned, this was what he most earnestly desired she might do. In this dilemma he applied to a friend for advice. " Do you eat at the same table?" asked the 't ; ^ friend. " Yes," was the reply. "Then I would advise you the next time you dine to ask the lady to pass the salt." " All right," sighed the lovesick hero. The next day he intended to put his friend's advice into operation, but was most delightfully balked by the lady asking him to " please pass the ?alt." From that moment the ice was oroken, till at last the lady asked for the gentleman's card, in order that she rr?;<rhf i-nnw.wlmm shft was ronversinc : with. : The gentleman at once handed the lady his business card. Slat- _ ters then^went on smoothly, all the while the couple enjoying each other's companjfegt concerts, operas, etc. At length "this state of matters was brought to a crisis. The lady was ^ about to return to the States. The lover was perplexed and again applied to his friend for advice, who adgged him to pop the question and thus settle anxiety. She was willing to be- " come one with him. The question then ; came, when the happy day would be. She replied " to-morrow." To this the gentleman at first demurred, as he ha^jtfflxain business matters to fix. - ^ssTtold him to leave them alone and i^vrite to his employers resigning his position and leave the rest to her. He complied; they were married and went to the States, where the Canadian gen- . tleman learned that he had married a young widow worth $250,000. In his happiness he did not forget the friend who advised him. He sent that gentleman a check for $2,000 with a letter of thanks for his kind advice in enabling him to become a rich and happy . man, through the possession of a handsome and loving woman. The gentle * JlidJ-L \V LLKJ tenUA.JL\^V*. l/iiv Ui^>*vv dubious as to the reality of the check, and did not present it at the bank for 'M some days. At last he put the matter to the test, and was informed the money had been lying in the bank at his order for a number of days. And so the romance ended, to the satisfaction of all persons interested. ? The Latfr Geography. Q.?"Where are the Poles locatc.l ? A.?At the schoolhouse, town hall or some empty store. Q.?What is a circle? A.?A gathering where the gossips sew for the heathen and tell all they know. Q.?What places have noon at the same time? ^ A.?Factories and boardin^ Aouses. ^ fin /I V?. IIUUS vxv .,v ? ? part of the earth? A.?In the same house with our mother-in-law. Q.?When are the nights the longest? A.?"We should think not by the way ours is borrowed. Q.?What disadvantage in having a bar at the entrance of a harbor? A.?It would take away trade from the saloons in port. Q.?Where do we find the largest and fiercest animals? -? A.?At the menagerie. *'"^1 Q.?Where do you find the greatest number of insects A ,-\f t/in-n /in o hnt niorVlf'. il.?? vyUb U1 bVTtu Vil U uvv Q.?Into what races are we divided? A.?The Horse race, the Boat race and the Human race. Q.?How are the inhabitants of a civilized country generally employed? A.?The men in working and the i women in shopping. Q,?What is mining? A.?Finding out how much you have been cheated. Q.?What is commerce? A.?Selling your neighbor goods at three times their value. . - j Q.?What do merchants do with products of the surrounding country? A.?Gather them together and form a "corner" in the market. Q.?How are the commercial towns connected with the towns of the in teriorV i A.?By "drummers" Q.?What is fishing? A.?Sitting in a boat all day foi nothing, and having to lie all the evening about what you caught and what got away.?Detroit Free Press. ' Oscar Pronounced a Sham. The Xew York correspondent of the Chicago News has evolved an analysis of Oscar Wilde, as follows: The man is a sham. The only real thing about him is his hair. Lacking absolutely in the supreme element of common" sense, what there is good flhmit him is swamned in the mushi ness of his vocabulary and the inordinate self-conceit of "his bearing. In the Lotus club he is a most welcome/ guest, and that club has the exclusive honor of entertaining him. I don't want to be misunderstood as having any feeling against Mr. Wilde, who is a most harmless person, and, in his career of money-making, traverses in no way the path of any other human ? being, but with a calm stoicism that absolutely defies criticism turns aside the shafts that wit and humor thrust ILL XU1U UiiU. piXUWVJJili yuvavvo insults as he pockets the dollars. T have felt, from the first time I saw him in his unique and extraordinary costume, precisely as I felt about Dr. . ^ Mary "Walker. If he likes it let him wear it?it does harm to no one, and makes a living for him. ^ Abont Djin?. "When one is still young and in health it is natural that death should be an object of fear, but it is not true that those who are very sick fear the grave. Dr. Griswold, an eminent physician, who has seen many death-beds, declares that the dying do not fear death, but ramer aesire it. to pass away wnen the time comes is in the order of nature, and we all submit to the inevitable without a murmur. Nor is ' it true that death is attended \vith any superstitious terrors, for, strangely enough, ali physicians agree that the dying think of the past, not of the future. Death itself is not painful; there is no pang of mental agony except in case of wounds or prematgie JB death. There is often terrible suffering from disease, but death is always a relief. It is idle as well as wicked I to make death seem horrible or painful. Indeed to myriads of human 1 - ? 'X. i- 1 AO A A A! j TTfirO* Demgs it is ioukcu ujjvll <u a uua f w from pain and care. In one of the most popular regions of the East? ffl Buddhism?Xirvana, or annihilation, js|fl takes the place of the heaven of the Christian belief., fl