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ABBEVILLE PRESS & BANNER.' ! r< . .M BY HUGH WILSON AND W. C. BENET. ABBEVILLE, S. C., WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 11, 1878. NO. 14. VOLUME XXVI. j| The Path Through the Corn. Warm aud bright in tho summer air. Like a pleasant sea when the wind blows fair, And its roughest breath had scarcely curled The preen highway to a distant wi^rld,? Soft whispers passing from shore to shore, Ah from hearts content yet desiring more? Who feels ail foilorn. Wandei ing thus down the path through tho corn A short space since, and the dead leaves lay Mouldering under the hedgerow gray, Nor hum of insect, nor voice ot bird, O'er the desolate field was ever heard; Only at eve tho pallid snow Blushed rose-red in the red sun-glow; Till, one blest morn, Shot tip into life the young green corn. Small and feeble, slender and pale, It bent its head to the winter gale, Hearkened the wren's soft note of cheer, Hardly believing spring was near; Saw chestnuts bud out, and campions blow, ?^And daisies mimic tho vanished snow Where it was born On ei'her side of the path through the corn. The corn, tbo corn, the beautiful com, Rising wonderful, morn by morn; First scarce as high as a fairy's wand, Then just in reach of a child's wee hand; Then growing, growing tall, brave and strong, With !he voioe of new harvests in its song; While iu fond seem The lark out-carols the whispering corn. A strange, sweet path, formed day by day, How, when and wherefore we cannot say, No more than of our life-pa'lis we know, Whither they lead xis; why we go, Or whether onr eyes shall ever see The whoat in the ear or the fruit on the tree! Yet, who's forlorn ? He who watered the furrows can ripenthe corn. jfet Komance of a Studio, Iu the every-day working world there are hot sunshiue and rattle of carriages, the ceaseless tread of restless feet and the confused Babel of a thousand different sounds. But in the vrry throng of it one can turn iuto a long high hall, climb a wide dim stairway, and enter a totally different place and atmosphere; that is Don Lepel's studio. Four easels are in the room, on each an unfinished picture, and the whole air of the place is that of still, thoughtful, purposeful work, Lepcl is a painter of the moilern school?industrious and thoroughly respectable, with a fashionable visiting list, and a good credit in the Second National Bank. Iam sorry to admit that he is not han-isome. People expect beauty of nrticts- lmt T^ene! is short and rather '^stout, and has other deficiencies not worth particular mention. Still, as ho stands before his easel with his palette on his thumb, culling up on his canvas a face of exquisite beauty, there is a sense of power about this ordinary rann which almost ennobles him. He has been working this warm June day since early morning, and he is satisfied with himself. "I will go to the ",-he says, approvingly; "I thall enjoy a stroll, and perhaps i may take a pull up the lake." That was Lepel's very sensible idea of recreation; end he had quite tired himself with the fir&t part of his programme when he came to a little rustic seat under some pines near the upper boathouse. There was a girl sitting reading at one end of the bench, but she was very young and very shabby, and he did not in the least fear that she wonld consider him an intrusion. At first ho watched the boats, but gradually his companion attracted him. Her form was faultless, and lie found himself dressing and posing it in all the characters which just then occupied his pencil. Of her face he could see nothing at all, for there was a little brown sun-shade between them. This was so far favorable that it allowed him to make a thumb-nail sketch of her attitude, which was extremely natural and graceful ; and he had scarcely done it when fortune played him a pleasant *rick; the girl, in attempting to tear open a leaf, let her tun-shade slip; it tell to the ground, and Lepel stooped and lifted it for her. The next moment they stood face to face, and Lepel exclaimed, in tones ? which were a strange mixture of pleasure and annoyance, "Why, Be? ! Is it possible!" Bee shrugged her shoulders and saiil, petulantly, she supposed it was. "And 1 have been sitting beside von twenty minutes, and did notkuow you." "I knew you." "Why did von not speak ?" "My* dress was so shabby?and my shoes. I suppose you have grown rich." "Do you suppose I have grown a snr?b also, Bee? Sif< down; I want to talk to yon." "Really ?" "Yes, really. Where is your father now?" "He died last summer." "Poor child ! What have you baen doinrr since?" " I can find nothing to do. During the opera season I sang in the chorus, and I made my money last as long as possible. But I am very poor; you can see that." " Bee, I owed your father some money for copying?" " Noj you did not, Mr. Lepcl. You cannot offer me charity on that plea. But if you know any way to get me work, that would be a great kindness ; if not. I must live as the birds do. from crumb to crumb, till winter comes." "Supnose you let me board yon with Signor Z . Tie would prepare you for a better engagement, and you con Id pay me from your first receipts?foi your father's rake, Bee ?" " "Way should you do this for father'* sake ? You were not friends; you had not been to see us for four years. ] heard that you had rich patrons an J hiu grown proud." " Weil, Bee, I will make you .inothei offer. I want a mr>clc!. sny, from tTO tc fonr hours a day. You will have tf stand in very fatiguiug postnres, and ] shall perhaps get cross and nnreasona ble, and forget yon are Beatrice Erliug but I will give yon tho highest terms and pay you every day as you enrn th< money." " What will yon give me?" ' Fifty cents an Lour." " That will do. When shall I come?' " To-morrow at ten o'clock." The conversation had fallen into ? purely business tone, and after these arrangements, Lepel handed her liii card, and said & rather cool " good evening." For now that the thing wai done, he was uncertain as to its wisdom In the first place, he had offered Bee uu usually high terms; and in the second he hid voluntarily connected himsel again, with a clasa of artists for whom hi had neither respect nor sympathy. H< knew that he had been influenced b; Bee's beauty, and that if she had beei ugly or ill termed, Lus remembrance o her would not have le?l iiim to any sue! active sympathy. "It is a bad plan," '-aid the youDj raan to hira'-elf, " to anu'vzo one's goo; deed:*. I h.ive not a bit of self-com plaif-ano6 in what I h'ir(> i^one f.T Ton Erh'ng's daughter ro-nig tit, and i sup poe now she will be a great nuisance t me.*' This renoontre compelled him, eve: against Mb inclination, to recall the gaj h . [ clover, idle fellow -whom he had so lot forgotten. " What au infinite genii ; that man had !" he muttered ; " the j was nothing lie could not turn his penc | to ; and as for music, it was his uali1 1 tongue." J But, for all that, Tom Erling hf j been a failure and a broken prom if; He worked irregularly, ho never ke] j his word, he foil into debt, borrow* monoj, and by continual petty impos tion8 sinned away his most faithfi friends. And yet the man had some e: euses; for he had been set to fight : battle for which nature had provide ! him witb no weapons. Time 1 money i obligations! Tom knew tho value < none of these things. He ought to ha\ lived in somo sunny Italian city, an been cared for as the ravens are. Lepel had at first been charmed wit his easy good-humor, his r.ong and wi and free-handed generosity. But me can't afford to pay success and fame ft : these pleasant things, and he had foun himself compelled to drop an acquain! , anceship which brought him notliin ! but unreasonable claims and annoj ' ances. j Beatrice had then been a shipshod ill-cared-for girl of twelvo years old perfectly familiar with all her father' shiftless, dishonorable ways of raisin, money. Scrambling breakfasts, disoi 1 derly diun> rs, alternate fasting cm feasting, was the girl's domestic strry j She bad picked up a knowledge of ri id ' ing and writing, and Now York had don j the rest for her. In some marvellou way she had acquired lady-like am rather reserved manners, and the knowl edge of hew to make the most of th little clothing she was able to procure But even among her father's asso ciates she had no friends. Ttaese genia I good fellows had nothing to sparo fo themselves. They all spoke pityingl; of "poor little Bee," but not one o them would have denied himself a ciga for her sake. When her father could n< longer protect her, she had even got t( : fear him, and to feel their notico of her I in some way or another, an insult. "* But D >n Lopel's offer was a difTeren thing. She thought it over after he hai left her, recalled his looks and tones and felt satisfied. "You are a Incki ; little bench," she said, smiling, anc j touching almost superstitiously th< rough wood, "and I feel as if gooc lin.l tiortn mnlrinor mf> n nail." The next evening she was rather mor< j doubtful of it. Lepel hail been ven cool, and had made her fiilly earn hej i fifty cents an hour. However, as th< weeks passed away, things prow ploas' i anter. Bee had plenty of tact, and liac j been in an excellent school for develop ing it. She saw at once that Lepel did not tras* her, and that she would have [ to win his confidence. Indeed, Lepel | was constantly expecting to find her the daughter of her father. Ho feared thai she would break her word, forget hei I appointments, or ask for mouey in advance. As her reserve passed away, and she became witty and merry, 01 indulged herself in snatches of song oz a new step in a dan?e, ho expected these moral aberrations more and more. I But thf-y did not come. Bee grow rosy-cheeked and light-hearted, began to dress with much taste, managed her small funds with discretion, and said, ' gratefully, "she began to Bee the good of living." In fact, before the winter ; was over she had got, through Lepel'e influence, a comfortable little business as "model," and was making with hei six hours' hard strain three dollars, e day. The .Tune sunlight in which wo first i'o ^nrrr Tdlnifirr cntV naw uupci O OOUUIU JO uun yi.iJUUij oui* ! light. Somehow the room lias a bright look: perhaps it is t'ua basket of flowers I on the table, or perhaps it mijrht b< such a triflo as a cuuning pair of bronze i slippers trimmed with clierry-colorec I bows that are stauding on tho hearth i rug. Don Lepel has just put then there. It is a very, very cold morning I of course that accounts for the action, j Ke stands looking at them with f dreamy look in his eyes, very unusna to those keen giay orbs, until he heari a clear quick footstep como pit-pitting ! along tile hall. Ttien lie resumes his i preoccupied air and his palette anc pencil. The door opens, and iu comes Bee, Her face is like a rose, he>- eyes like stars; her dark blue suit has bits oi ! snow all over it, and so has her trim lit' I tie hat aud feathers. Sho nods to Lnpel shakes herself jauntily, and then taking off her hat, fans it gently before the fin: i to recurl the feathers. "Better pat on your slippers, Bee. 1 i enn't have you take cold now, with thes< three pictures on hand." i "Which do 1 sit for this morning?" i "Ophelia. I have been painting thf faoo from ma-lemoisel'e's photo; you ! will dress and pose for the character.' ; "I don't feel like tho love-lorn dumse! this momiug. Bill! The idea of an] woman dvinst for love, and the snow. 1 and the sunshine, and the joys of music, ! aud reading, and eating, and walking tc live for ! I suppose she was insane?o' course she was." She was unbuttoning her boots durinc this tirade, and when sho had slippec her feet into the bronze slippers ant waltzed twice round the room, dodging Apollo and Hercules very cleverly, sh< i announced herself ready to begin. In i few minutes the secret of her higl spirits was evident. Lopel rend to hei ! a few lines, and her face and hair ant flgnrd instantly translated theiu; tlx : very droop of her arms was a reveiatioi of physical sympathy. i Two or three times whilj occupiec with minor details ho let her rest, ant ; she trailed the long robes of the Danisl maiden up and down the room, chattinj all tho time in the merriest every-da; manner. " Had Lepel hoard that Clif 1 i ford's picture was sold ? Did he knov ' that Harry Martin and Palozzi had quar rolled ? Was ho going to the Lotos, am ? if po, would he tell her how Miss K ' I j dress was trimmed?" Then sho tol [ 1 him of a now song she was learning, am I obligingly hummed over part of th ! melody. And so back again to th r heroine of a thousand years ago. ) At last Lejv-l ^nys, '* 'Chat will do tc ) Cay, Bee. Will you go and have a [ oyster patv with me, or is Clifford wai! - I ing for yon ?" ; "I don't like oyster pate*. If yo , give me a quail I will so." 3 "Very well, Miss Extravagance, yo have done admirably to-uay, and yo shall have a mail. The.u are you goin to Clifford's ?" '! ,;Why do you tease me about Cli ' ford's? * I am not going to Clifford i any more." i 4' But why not ?" i I "A woman's reason?because I ai not." 3 The next morning, Lepel met h< . i very stiffly. "Before you robe, Boe, - want to speak to you. .Sit down ai] , ; warm your ft'et." f Shn'mifc the nrettv slippered feet c 3 the fender, ami looked curiously up i 9 him. " Well'?" 7 "Clifford was hero ja<;t night, and i i know why you would not go there ye f | terduy. Think again, He';. You mipl i do much worse. I havo tried to be joi j friend, aud I must f-ay thin much." ; j "Oh, You advise mc to marry Cii 1 ford." For a moment her i.ico w; - ablaze with Hcorn, but the next hwc?y< a I nought Lcjiftl'R?just for a moment; 1 >- J hesitated, aud tha chance was forovi o lost to him. Nothing could be mo; cold and sarcastio than her next att n tude. "Clifford has genius, Bee, and ii lg dustry ; he is struggling bravely for n is | position." re | "I bate poor struggling men. I saw 'il : plenty of them in my childhood. Sucre j cess is the one thing forever good. The I successful man is the handsomest man id and the wise m m ; ho aione ia worthy e. I of a woman's love." at She spoke extravagantly, as was her :d | habit under excitement, but Lepel was li- i annoyed at it. ill ! " i do not like your advice," she cons i tinned, angrily. " You favored Mona : tana because ho could cultivate my 'd I voice, and I might thus have a caver ! i with him ; anil now you advise that I )f : become -wife to the poor struggling e j Clifford, in order to save him the exd i pense of a model, I suppose." " Don't be unjust, Bee. I only wishh ' ed to see you cared for." t, ' "Thank you; but I have my own n ! ideas as to what being cared for means." ir j "Do you mind enlightening me?"' d i " Not at all. It means a luxurious t- | home, servants and carriages, foreign g i travel, homo entertainments, and a hus' | band whose greatest joy is to gratify ! my wishes." [m | Lopel hardly knew whether she wa t" in jest or earnest, for she stood up to s make her explanation, anil ended it with g i a pirouette that brought her suddenly . ; face to face with a gentleman who-.e I amused expression showed that ho had ># I been a listener to her avowed matri[. j monial position. e i Then Lepol turned with a bow to his h \ visitor, aud Bee vanished behind an old I < oaken screen?a convenient place for an _ j observation, And Bee was not above e ! peeping at the intruder. He was a man | of about fifty years of age, with a fine 1 ; presence, and that indefinable aurio atI | mosphere around him which envelops r i the confidently rich man. Beo liked j : his appearance, and was rather pleased f i to observe that he glanced around the r j room before leaving it; she was sure 3 that he was looking for her. ) ; There was no more now to be said , about Clifford's hopes, and no more i advice to be given to Bee; Lepel forII got everything in his gratification at 1 ; Sir. Belmar's visit and the orders he , ' had given him. These orders really r ; required eomo supervision, but hardly I :\h much as that gentleman gave them, j i ' In a few weeks he was a very regular i ! vititor at Lepel's studio. Ee said ho i rniinved these visits, and it is probable 5 lie did. Beo's costumes and characters, r her sunny good temper, her queer critir j cisms on players, politicians, artists, i and the world in general, made it a cou ! stantly changing entertainment. 1 If Bee suspectcd that she had inter est- d Mr. Beisnar?which it is likely sho ' [ 1 discovered at once?-Lepel certainly i > never did. He considered his patron , I as a genuine lover of art, and a peculiar j s ! admirer of his own peculiar style and \ ; ; coloring. That ho should admire Bee's j ! kitten-like movements, and applaud all i i her clever, keen little epigrams, was ! , ! natural enough ; he did that himself, j anil everybody else did it. j Tlius the winter passed pleasantly und t profitably away. Bee had saved n little : money, and was taking singing lessons. I ' j " If sho was to liavo a careor," she said, ! > ! spitefully, to Lenel, "it should not bo j ; with any Montana." So now in her I intervals of rest she ?ang scales and I i! astonishing exercises; she said the lofty j ' ' rooms suited her, and they objected to i : her practice in her boarding-house. ' i Lepel had no objections to her rich j musical intervals; besides, it gavo him i occasionally the pleasure of saying, "That is a false note, Bee." ; It was agaiu June, and Lepel had put j tho fiuishing touches to Mr. Belmar's ! t last picture. Ho met that gentleman i one warm afternoon in Union Square, j i ! and tol l him so. Then they turned > toward tho stu.lio, and wont up to look I at it. It was an Italian scene, and Beo, * uresseu as si xusrau penouut \?im u i basket of grapes ou her !eft shoulder, ; was the only iigure. . i "She is n beautiful girl," said Mr. i : Bel mar, thoughtfully, "Either as I , Princess Bee or Peasant B?e she is peri feet. By-the-bye, what is her na >ie?" f " Ser nime," said Lepel, coldly, "is * Beatrice Erlinp*." i " Erling? Erling? Not Tom Erling's daughter?" "Tom Erling's daughter. Djd you 5 know Tom?" N "We were brought up in the same ' . Connehcat village, and went to the same > district school. Tom beat mo iu all the > ! classes, and I whipped him out of them. > Then he fell iu love with my sister?in r snort, there was a quarrel, and Tom : came to New York. He must be poor, * ; to let his daughter?" "He is dead. His wife was an Italian singer who died soon after Beo's birth. J The poor child has no relatives." J ; "I will toll my sister about her. She 1 is an invalid now, with very few pleas' ures or interests. I am sure she will be r glad to befriend Tom Erling's daugh> ter." ' ' In this way it came to pass that Bee 5 rroa ennn vinit.infT fit Miss Belmar's pretty cottage on the Hudson, find that -whenever she was there, Miss | Belraar's brother also found it convenient : to como out with a few new books or I some early fruit. Indeed, the maiden > lady, almost confined to hur house, had 3 given her heart very realily to this 1 bright, pretty child of the only man rIio 1 had ever loved. She couid befriend !j Bee, and do something for her; and this iu itself war-: a great pleasure to the poor 3 invalid, so long the recipient, and not 1 the giver of kindness. j Ho when in early .Tnlv Lepel shut his I studio and wont away for four months, j Bee's small personal effects were removr ed to Miss Belmar's, and she spent the p summer there. Aud it was amusing to see what easily detected little plots and v plans this lady laid in order to bring about a marriage that had b-on already } determined upon. 8 Beo hail never been so happy iu all I her life; the sweetness and coolness find repose, the tender love and ceasele?s at0 tentions, the riding and boa'ing and ^ moonlight strolls, made the time pass 'like an euclmnted dream. Mr. 1 lei mar : watched her constantly, but found nothing in vhinli it was necessary to direct,or l_ I advise her, for with that wonderl'iii adaptive tact inherent in American won men she caught not only the habit but the tone of the circumstances eurround? ing her, and made them a part of her,, I self. g! Early in November sho wont one morning into the city and climbed again f- the familiar stairway lea ling to Lapel's 's ! studio. He had resumed work, and met her with a petulant complaint: ' Where { on earth have you been, Bee ? I have ca ! written three times for you." i She did not answer immediately ; but >r ! sitting down before the fire, and putting I her feet on the fender in her old way, id i she turned her head ami looked rather j sadly down the long room. " Lopel, ,n ' what charm in there is this life, I won* it der? Who that has lived in Bonerma ever left it without a sigh V I I " You don't mean if* say that you arc 8- | leaving it ?" it I "Yed, I came to pay farewell.' I ir ! shall never make money or make morrv ! in this dear old room again. I am going f. to be married." IB "To Clifford?" :s "What an idea! No, Sir, to Mr. ie Belmar. I shall order pictures of you ar n^w, Lepel, and patronise you dreadre iuily." i- "Don't pull my prices down, Bee. That is all I ask." a- " But that is exaotly what I shall do. i Mr. Belmar will have a great many expenses with me. I shall not let hire ' buy any more pictures." She spoke in her old saucy way, bal' ancing her muff first on one hand and anil then on the other ; but in spite oi her jesting way, Lepel saw she was in earnest about her marriago. He said a j few low words of congratulation, and wont busily on with his work. Bee felt I instantly sobered. Was he angry with her? Was he jealous of her good fortune, or selfishly sorry to lose so good a model ? If Bee had believed it any of these things, her tongue would have avenged her, but some look on the grave, sorrowful face made her remember the moment when she had seen Love's confession trembling on his lips. She rose quietly, said a few words of gratitude and farewell, and before Lepel nrtnl/1 nnow?nv flinrr? tt*oa rrr\nn | uuuxu itunnci, iuwuj, nuo ^vuv. Then Lepel, taking from a shelf a pair of small bronze slippers, locked hem carefully away, and with them locked away the one love of his life. He worked harder than usual, worked till the room was cold and dark, then throwing down his pencil, he made his ! only complaint on the subject: ''I don't i blame her; she never knew ; I hardly kne'tv myself. "Well, well, life is full of I ' might have beens.'" ! Again tho January snow is in the brisk cold air, and Lepel's cheery studio has its old look of earnest labor. He is before his easel, but he is not working with his usual serious attention. The reason lies on the table beside him in the shape of a note ol invitation to dinner at Mr. Belmar's. A year haa passed since he saw Bee, and ho is not at all in love now, but still she possesses a greater interest for him than any other women. He wonders how she will look, nnd what she will say, and whether ho | himself ought not to buy a new evening suit for the occasion. Also there is dimly present a pleasant expectation of orders, for Lepel is nevor oblivions to such profitable contingencies. Still, if he had one selfish thought, ho forgot it in nobler feelings when ho saw Beo agaiu that night. Standing in his quiet recess, he watched the beautiJ ful woman, serene in temper, elegant in [ manners, and exquisitely clothed, guide | the whole entertainment charmingly to j its end. Her husband?still her lover ?trusted absolutely in her, and his sister watched her with a pride that wa3 almost motherly; it was evident she was to be a woman of great domestic and social influence. Lspel sat long that night over his studio fire thinking about her. "How often I have scolded her in this very room ! how often she has said 'Thank you' for a two-dollar bill right here on this hearth-rug ! nnd yet how cleverly sho made me feel, without a shade of pride or unkindness, that she was now Mrs. Belmar! Belmar has got a model wife." And Lopel smiled grimly at the nnlv mm he had ever made. "Now no man could slip into a position liko that, and fit it ho exquisitely; but women puzzle rae more and more every year? especially American women."?Harpers Weekly. A Boa Swallows a Blanket. Spc-aking of snakes, Superintendent Brown, of the Zoological Garden, said he could tell a snake story and not a second-handed one either. About a year ago one of the lurgo reptiles in tho collection took eick and seemed to be goiug into a decline. Nothing that fhey could give him appeared to do him any good, and from Ions of appetite and sleeplessness tho Hnake becamc a mere wreck of his former self. A largo blanket had been placc-d in the serpent's I cell for him to bleep upon. One morn' ing tlio keeper found that the blanket : had disappeared. Search was made | throughout the cage, but without suc: cesa. At the same time the snake's body j had swelled to tho thickness of a good| sizod sapling. He had swallowed tho j blanket. But tho blanket wouldn't dii gest, aud the snake became sicker than i before. In this manner ho rolled around like a wan dyspeptic for over four weeks. Finally tho blanket was discharged by naturalcausc-s. Immediately the snako began to ion rove. The it:.? i.:? j BWtUllUg lil IJ13 UUUJ gliiuuuuj umu?uv.u j down and lie grew larger and fatter than j before, till the box became too small to ! hold him. Ho ate like a gormand, and at times fonnd room for two and three j times the customary quantity of food. I The blanket acted an a Bort of medicine j upon bis stomach and cleaned him out , entirely. Now he is fifteen feet along, ! eighteen feet in circumference, and is I the healthiest boa constrictor of the i lot. A change of color was the only j visible eflfoet on the blanket. Under the miscroscope it showed that it had j become a little worn by being rubbed in | the animal's stomach. It came out un| digested and it was carefully packed I away in the superintendent's private I office, where it now lies.?Philadelphia j Timet, The Tower of Niagara. i Dr. Siemens, some months ago, in an ; address which he then gave, referred to i the immense quantity of power whieh I flowed ready-made over tho Falls of Ni| ttgra. In his Glasgow address he again I referred to the subject, in order to show I how this gigantic source of power might I bo utilized to produce action at a dis! tance. "When," he says, "little more i than a twelvemonth ago Ivisited the great ! Falls of Niagara, I was particularly ! struck with the extraordinary amount of i force which is lost, as far as tho useful j purposes of man are concerned. One i hundred millions of tons of water fall ! there every hour from a vertical height ' of 150 feet, which represent an aggrej gato of 1G 800,000 horse-power. In I order to reproduce tho power of 16,800,j 000 horses, 'or, in other words, to pump I back tho water from below to above the | fall, would require an annual expenditure of not leps than 266,000,000 tons of j coal, calculated at au average consurap; tion of four pounds of coal per horse1 power per hour, which amount is equiv1 ulent to the total coal consumption of ' the world. In stating these facts in my ! inaugural address on assuming the [ presidency of,' tho Iron and Steel Insti! tute, I ventured to express tho opinion ; that in order to utilize natural forces of i this description at distnnt towns and ! centers of iudustry, the electric condncj tov might be re^orled to. This view was at that time unsupported by exp!>ri ' mental data sunli as I have beeu oblo j since than to collect.Nature. ? A Joke that vras Lost, How many really excellent, jukes are ! lout for want of proper appreciation, j Here, only n few days ago, when the i [own excursion went up to Minneapolis, a young man sai. up at the Nicollet half au hour one night, after hiselmm had gone I to bed, sewing the le^a of the innocent. ; sleeper'a together. He troupers sewed j tliera strong, and laughed long and silenti ly after he went, to bed, a* he pictured the j soene in the morning. When the moru| inp dawned, ho arose with the plow of ; anticipation in his face, ami as it slowly i faded away ho pat. down upon the aido if J the bed and dejoctedly cnt open, the bottom of his own carct'ully Bowed trousers leg*, and when his unsuspecting chum asked what he whs doing, be sighed and said sadly, " Oh, nothiug." And he wearily thought how full of meanness was this haee, deceiving old worH.?Murlingron Eav)keye. I I A Virginia C'iij Episode. 1 j Droll thingn happen m Nevada. Th ; air out there, as everybody knows, i full of ozone, and ozone in the atmos | : phere makes people wonderfully vigor : ! ous and original. A story which come 1 from Virginia City illustrates the fac pleasantly. It isn't quite assured tha the pleasaut account really comes fron I that place, but it is credited to it, and as the story drifts eastward in the vagn sort of way stories from the Far Wes ; usually do, and is merely in its bearinj a barometrical showing of the conditio] II of the social atmosphere in miuinj towns generally, it muy bo located ii Virginia City as well as anywhere else There came to Virginia City a younj physician from "the States," poesibb j from St. Louis, a talented, nice youiif ! fellow, with considerable genius in mak ing out a diagnosis or a bill, but inherit ing from decent parents a fatal weak ness. He could not overcome a fatu passion for putting on occasionally i clean shirt, for taking his pantalooni out of the tops of his boots and in othe: Trn-rc onnffirminir t,o habits DODular wit! the super-civilization of the Orient. H< forgot he was in the Occident, when ways are different. For a time after hii arrival among the ozone-faced VirginiaCityites he conformed in modesty nni decency to their ways. He wore a dirtj shirt of miners flannel, and tucked hit pantaloons inside his boots, and swore with strange oaths, grew bearded lik( the bard, chewed navy-plug tobncco anc spat wickedly to leeward. He wa? rapidly acquiring popularity and an im mense practice in hiB profession, wher he yielded to temptation and so fellfell as thousands of bright minds have fallen in the past. There came upon the young physiciar a passion for old phantasies. He clung again to the flesh-pots of his early life, and took a course iL suiting to all aboui him and dangerous to himself. As upon the reformed drunkarn comes at times n horrible thirst for drink, as comes to the opium-eater who has tried to save himself an overwhelming passion for the fatal drug, so upon the young j-hysician eame fierco lonarine to wear again a sbiTt ! nil clean, and. washed, and starched to j don in otherwise tho garb of Eastern cities. Of course the infatuated young man knew well enough that ho was wronging those about him. He knew that in putting on a clean shirt he was offering a gratuitous insult to every other man in Virginia City, in the intimation thus expressed of his own superiority. He knew j the risk and took it. He was infatuated. I Ho knew of tho popularity ho had gainj cd. and relied upon it for protection. The rest is soon told. Ono morning ' tho young physician came down town ! with his trowsersworn outside his boots, j His friends noticed it, but said nothing; | they thought it merely an oversight on j his part. The night passed, and tiio next morning the young man appeared upon the streets wearing a white shirt. He had shown tact enough to put on his adornments gradually, but he did not realize tho full terror of his situatien. Still nothing was said. Thero was a muttering among the populace, and ; nothing more. Another day came, and I with it the appearance of tho Eastern j man in public, his rv'iito shirt still worn, ; his pantaloons still outside his boots t und upon these boots, not plriit Nevada ; mud, but a polish of blacking. Then the people gathered in groups, and disi cussed something earuestly. The blind] <id victim of impending fate saw nothj ing. He appeared next day, still clean laud neat, and carrying a cane. That | night the Vigilance Committee met I The next morning proved a clear and , pleasant one, which was a lucky circum stance, as it enabled most of the popula; tion of Virginia City to stroll out and : speculate upon a droll object in the j suburbs. Suspended from the limb of a i tree, swinging gently in the morning i breeze, hung the foolish young physical n from the East. Upon the back of au old envelope pinued to his breast was inscribed tho curt legend: " He tuk risks. He banked too heuvy on Jiia pop'larity." Hut, as said before, the scene of this interesting episode of the ozone-bathed mountain regions may not have been Virginia City. The story comes irregularly.? St. Louis Republican. Fashion Notes, The desire for shaggy goods still con< tinues unabated. Tho small, round turbau is again worn by young ladies. Spotted satin and Bilk suu umbrellas | are quite stylish. j Old gold cnlor aud pink is a favorite I mixture for bow?. It is predicted that gurnets, so long I tabooed by fashion will again bo worn this fall and winter. Fall hats are of black straw trimmed with black velvet and enlivened by autumn leaves or poppies. It is the fashion now to line white : muslin curtains with a color, and to tie i them back with a strip of the same as I tho lining. Monograms are in favor again, and are ! embroidered on slippers, collars, handi kerchiefs, mitts and parasols, in the | gayest colors. Tho broended materials are gradually i reviving the stomacher, and in a short ! time one need not bo surprised to j the waists of dresses as short aa in the | days of one'6 grandmothers'. j Large rouud collars aro made of three i rows of Valenciennes lace, each an inch : wide, laid in knife-pleatings, and finished j at the top by one standing row of the j pleated lace and an inner pleating of I crimped crepe lisse. Black velvet bracelets are revived to i wear with half-long elbow sleeves. They are fastened with square buckles of paste or of diamonds, and aro ornamented with the serpent and lizard brooches that are now so popular.. These bracelets and , rococo buckles are in keeping with the i Wfl mitts and conutrv toilettes ! known ns Trianon dresses. Satan or velvet bodices, known an ! Revolution bodices, are worn with white muslin skirts. These are in coat shape, j with rovers and cape covered with white i lace, as, for instance, ruby satin itli j Venetian point laco or the old Venici j guipure. There is first a white silk pet! tieoat, over which is a white muslin | pleatol skirt, and a washerwoman over skirt bordered broadly with ruby t.itii: i and white lace. A Sad Failure. An ingenious taiior of this city got i lot of emuty pop bottles, put one ol his business cards in each, thou wrapped : every bottle separately in n poisoned j tenderloin steak and throw them intr; I the bay from the ferrv boats, one bj : ono. He natnrally supposed that (he i meat would bo swallowed by sharks, that the poison would kill the latter, j that the fish would float ashore, be cni . liA^loa fliu fnnl ; reported by the newspapers, ami an j original ami effective advertisement kcI cured. That was precisely what happen! oil. Day before yesterday a yachting j parly picked up an immense shark not . far from Alcatraz. Ill it? stomach waf ! found one of the bottles alluded to, and j (he card it contained handed to a re' porter of this paper. The name of the clever merohant it contained will bt published at our regular advertising rates, if bo directed by him. See terms a inside page.?San Francisco Post. FARM, GARDEN AND HOUSEHOLD, g Poultry Note*. The small breeds of fowls are the mcs - profitable layers. b Teuch your hens to break eggs and t eat them by throwing shells to them t whenever opportunity offers. This is a a I good way to do it. , j A poultry fancier has found that lice a will not venture near a sitting hen in 11 whose nest two or three tobacco leaves j I have been placed. i : A writer in tho Poultry World argues 5 J that there is no foundation for the i j theory that one breed of domestic fowl . , is more tender and juicy than another; I \ any fowl badly fed or cared for is necesy I sarilv poor, "stingy" and unpalatable, t but/other things equal, no difference - can be discovered in the taste of the . : flesh of tho various breeds. - | Au old turkey-miser gives the follow1 l ing experiment: Four turkeys wereconi ! fined in a pen, and fed on meal, boiled 3 j potatoes and oats. Four others, of the r! samo brood, wero also at the same time i ' confined in anothor pen, and fed daily 3 ' on the samo articles, but with one pint 3 of very finely pulverized charcoal 3 miied -with their food?mixed meal and j . boiled potatoes. They had also a plenti- j I fill supply of broken charcoal in thoir I t pen. Tho eight wero killed on the same | 3 day, and there was a difference of one ! > and a half pounds rich in favor of the j 3 fowls which had bsen supplied with I 1 charcoal, they being much the fattest j and the meat gvently superior in point - of tenderness and flavor. 1 Hcil.l'iigi and Ant*. A lady writes to an exchange as fol) lows: *' Thinking perhaps I might add a mite that would bo of benefit to some of t the many readers of this department, ; and wishing for a recipe which would be of great help to me, I have, for the first j ; time, taken up my pen to tell what I i i know. To those that are troubled with j i bed-bugs: Remove all your furniture I i from the room, after cleaning it of all I bugs and nits; then placs a pun of coals i in the room and pour a good supply of I brimstone on it; then close the room i tight, and let it smoke; do not open .until the smoke has nil gone out through . the crevices; then take a wet cloth and wipe off the wood-work, and, before placing your furniture back, anoint all the cracks with ungnentnm. I lmve I tried this way twice, and have been very j successful. Also, a good way to get rid I of thofco little red ants that arc so troubi lesome to some. Watch them, and when . j you find out where they travel to, just | I turn kerosene oil into their nests, and ' j do not be afraid to use it. I think you I will soon be rid of them. I got rid of; i them in that way, in a house where I j could not keep anything out of their reach, up-stairs and down; they never j troubled me afterward. Farmer*.' Aids nn?l Kzirmlm. Hedgehog lives on mice, small ro- \ dents, slugs ami grubs?animals hurtfu to agriculture. Don't kill the hedgo ho?. Toad?farm assistant; destroys from ! twenty to thirty insects an hour. Don't j kill the toad. Mole is continually destroying grubs, | I 1 1.a inunnfc ! J lilltUJ, Jk/UlUH."!. YVV/iluo 1U 'vVio mjUii I oils to agriculture. No trace of vege- ; tation is ever found in its stomach, j ! Does more good than harm. Don't kill ; ! the mole. | May bug and its larvro or grub, mortal ! i enemy of agriculture; lays from seventy j to eighty eggs. Kill the May bug. j Bikds.- Each department losc3 sev- j j oral millions annually through insects. ! Birds aro the only enemies able to con- j | teud against them victoriously. They j are the great caterpillar-killer and agri- I j cultural assistants. Children, don't I j disturb thoir nests.?Golden Rale. How to ."Hnkr {'ottm tJlvo ,>IUi?. | A writer in the Southern Farmer nays ! | that his cow gives all the milk that is 1 wanted in a family of eight, and that ; | from it, after taking all that is required ; I for other purposes, 2G0 pounds of butter ] were made this year. ?his is in part his 1 j treatment of the cow: "If you desire to get a large yield j of rich milk, tjive your cow every day j water slightly warm and slightly salt- | ed, in which bran has been stirred at ! the rate of one quart to two gallons of ! water. You will find, if you have not j tried this daily practice, that your cow j will give twenty-five per cent, more milk I immediately under the effect of it, and j she will become so attached to the diet j as to refuse to drink clear water unless j very thirsty. But this mess she will . drink almost any time, and ask for more. : j The amount of this drink necessary is an j 1 j ordinary water pailful at a time, mora- j mg, noon and night. To Free (loss from r.lce. J. C. L. B., Ulster county, N. Y., asks: " What will kill lice on hogs?" Reply:?Give the bogs lmlf an ounce of sulphur daily in their food until they ; smell strongly of it through the skin, which will be* in ten days or thereabout. In the meantime, prepare a mixture of i lard, four parts, glycerine, two parts, ' and Kerosene oil, two parts. Eub this ' upon the brisket, the armpits, and be- j neath the thighs of the animals, and | i anywhere elso the vermin may be found, j When the smell of the sulphur come3 j i through the skin, all the lice that liavo i not been killed by the grease will leave I . at once. To preveut thoir return, keep ' an earthen floor in the pen, or bed the ; ' I hogs with fresh earth six inches deep, | ! renewing it occasionally, and once a j week throw over this a quart of water in i which one ounce of carbolic acid has been dissolved. Cooked .Heats for Fowli. Fowls, as well as dogs, becomo qnar- | ; relsome if fed on raw meat. Besides, cooking makes it more nutritious. When raw, it is rather harsh and crude, com- . | pared with the mild natural diet of worms aud grubs, which are for tiie ! 1 most part soft, aud easily dissolved by digestion. 1 Occasionally, for variety, a little meat < may be given raw. Fish, when plenty, , 1 is more conveniently given boiled, lie- i 1 cause in that stale the foA'ls easily pick i every morsel irom tiie bones, and no : minting is required. Chandlers' scraps i 1 havo the ndvantage of being already | cooked, and on that account, as well as ; 1 ' many others, they are excellent ?The I 1' 1'oult.y World. I , 1 A Tjrolesc Almanac. A curious Almanac is described by a i recent traveler in Tyrol. It, ignores the 1 I alphabet, and goes on the presumption i j that "rending is au unknown ait." [ The picture of a saint indicates his lioli- j i | day, the peasants readiiy knowing the I \ j signs employed. The plow indicates : I the iimo to begin farming, theclover leaf j [ ' signilies the time for seeding, and wood | ? i chopping is prompted by a hatchet. A | ' ! hand signifies cold ; a mouth, wind ; a j ) ! pitcher, rain; and a bat, warm weather. , ! Like tho Ober-Ammergau "Passion j , Play," this almanac is a reminder of (he j ; past. Time was when religious instrucL turn was conveyed by " books for the i t pour," which contained only rude en- J eravintrs. Sorcimens of thet;e are nor ! rare, unci copies of single pago? are j ; common iu wor!;s on ecclesiastical an- j ; tiquity. Pictures, statues, curious head:., i and other iloviccs in aucieut church i architecture had a similar purpose in their origin. Though to modern eyes s they seevn grotesque, they onco had a > devout meaning. " Picture-writing," ; in this cane may be Raid to have survived i the introduction of letters.?Philadelphia Ledger. r -- - t - *. J L A Paragrapher Goes Fishing. I lauded my first pickerel the first eveniug wo were on Lake Minnetonka, I am not a skillful fisherman. I told the boys that I could do a little plain fishing, but I didn't want to be set down for anything with any kind of fluting, I embroidery, knife-plaiting, or anything of that kind about it. I fisbed from the snore, uy tue suie oi a veteran nslier, Mr. A. K. Dnnlap, of Tituaville. He kuow3 every flsli in the lake by name. He can toll by the movement of the line what kind of a fish is at your hook. Something ran away with my line. " It's a pickerel!" shouted Mr. Dun! lap, in intense excitement. " A big fel: low. Take out your lines," he yelled to the rest of them. " Give him plenty oi i room ! Play him 1" he shrieked at me. ! " Let him ran 1 Keep your line taut! j Don't give him an inch of slack ! Look out! Don't let him do that again 1 Let him run 1 Now, bring him in this? Look out 1 Don't let him do that _ __ ill aguiu : By this timo I was bo excited I was on | tho point of throwing down the pole and | rushing out in the lake, intending to ; run tho fish down and kick it to death. | [ screamed to Mr. Dunlap: "You take the pole and land him; I never can." Hu refused. He turned and hurled his own pole, lance fashion, into the woods. " Here I" he shouted, rushing down tho bank about twenty feet below me, stooping down and spreading out his arms. "Here! Now! Bring him in here through the sheal water ! I'll got him. Careful, now ! Careful! Steady ! Ah?" And flip, flap, I had him on the shoro. He was a beauty. A little sunfish, about three and a half inches long. It was a long time before we paid anything. Mr. Dunlap climbed a big birch tree, in the top of which hie pole had lodged, and we resumed our fishing. Preeently Charley Armknecht coughed, and I said: "How funny the frogs sound over in the marsh." Aud then we laughed a long time at tho frogs. A long, long time and very heartily. They were very funny frogs. But Mr. Dunlap fished on very silently, and by and by he said the fish wouldn't bite when there was very much noise. So we held our hush and the fish bit. But they didu't bito any of us very badly. The fishing is excellent almost anywhere in the lake. That evening on the npper lake ono of the boys caught nine large pickerel. "Wheu we came to count the fish, however, it appeared that lie had caught oae pickerel nine times. Ii w:is a very large fish, and they are going to have its skin dried whole for a spectacle-case. I caught more fish than any ono else in the party, but they were all, with one exception, catfish, and I learned, to my amazement, that I harl disgraced myself and the lake. Why ir-n't a lish a fish, I'd like to know ?? Durdette, in Burlington Hawkcye. Coney Island. Conoy Island c~>mes in for a good share 01 notice in tho Now York Tribune, being given some five columus of description and illustrated by several maps. It i -i i t> ii.. 1 is an extraordinary siory 01 mo ouuuru growth and development of a popular resort out of a barren sandy shore. Within less thau ten years, four miles of the beach?a sandy tract on Long Inland at the entrance to New York harbor? was a desolate -wasto, which nobody claimed and nobody visited. There were a few bath houses, and a small hotel where an invalid could half-live, half-starve. A single steamboat did service as a tup-boat, lighter and pass< euger boat. One railroad ran down near the center of the island, but there was neither hotel nor depot at its end. Within four years, and mostly within the past two, seven railways have been constructed; in place of one dilapidated there are three elegant steamers, and four more excursion steamers ply as regularly as ferries, the single hotel with its five shabby rooms has been succeeded by at least twenty, tbree ol which are as good as those at any seaside resort Claimants are plenty foi land which a few years ago nobody would own, and leases that then went 1 - ' J- i._ 11 oegging ill Keveui.-y-uvu uunara cwu mc now held at $30,000 for the two years yet to lap-;e. Where 8100,000 was not in 187-1 invested in hotels, railways, steamboats and pavilions, now fnlly 85, 000,000 is employed, and where fifty persons found occupation three mouths in the year, now '2,500 find constant employment. It is remarkable that n place so convenient to New York and so well adapted for giving the hot and weary people of the city fresh air and water, should be so long given up to "clammers" and "crabbers," or to picnic parties of such a character that respectable people were obliged to keep away or pubmit to insult and possibly worse. Its rapid growth is equally remarkable, and its advantages and capacity for entertaining the constantly increasing patronago is being developed more and more each year. The American Girl In Paris. A Paris correspondent in tho .Boston Trawler' writes ?Among the many wonders of tho Exhibition none is more striking than the little compatriots, tlie dainty, the delicate, and tho irrepressible American <?iil, who has come for the first timo to Europe, and wlio airs her surprise and pleasure with a grace peculir.vlt? Tf io rofciifcliina fn truanf. V V."". -I* ... her m the midst of this dead wilderness of conventionality, so see her set at deliineo the haughty indiffereneo of the blonde maids of Albion, and tlie excessive t/auchcric and over-delicacy of the unmarried French girl. Whfn she comes from England it is scarcely necessary to say that she allows herself to be surprised by little or nothing ; that she treats this pearl of Paris with cool yet well-bred disdain, which would arouse the vindictivenesa of the Gauls could they but understand it. She will drink ico water, ?he will flirt, and she will persist that thoio is nothing whatever which could render it worth her while to remain 0:1 this side of the ocean. She has an impression that. Paris was burned to ashes during the Commune, and she is surprised to find it so well built up again. As for the Exhibition, she declares that it is not as tine as 14 ours," and her patriotism is so earnest that she would like to dtclare her nationality at every second step. Heaven bless her! she is a bewildering mystery? a lovc]y muss of contradictions?a being to be very proud of, and to allow to conduct herself absolntelv as she pleased. Now and then one encounters the serious Bostou young lady, who has como over with the intention of learning Paris and the Exhibition by heart before she returns. She goes at tliH wotk with a prun persistence, find with a disregard for physical discomfort, which makes her apparently more robust English sister holil up her bauds in h"]y horror. The weed known as beggars' lice ie cultivated successfully in parts of Florida and southwestern Georgia. Poor lamls are mado rich aud desnfed lands improved by its culture. Jt takes the place of clover,is a fine producer of milk, stock fatten rapidly on it, it is palatable and nutritious, makes a fine forage, and oan be out as many as three times in a season. TIMELY TOPICS. Signor Cozzi of Verona claims to have discovered a powder removing all explosive power from petroleum. Tho demand for postal cards siuct they were first introduced in 1873 hat increased thirty per cent, annually. > T tl Ori Annnl/ir? Unn AwA<in^fl/1 n 4 v uuo ucun cacouicu av i Valparaiso for killing a shopkeeper in his shop in broad daylight. Though i only twenty-three he had been twenty times arrested for murder, robbery and other grave orimes. Thus far there have been nearly ten ? thousand mines recorded in the Black : Hills, and they are still being discovered at the rate of about one hundred a week. ! For the year ending May 15, 1878, it : was estimated tbat 84,000,009 had been : produced by the gulch and quartz mines. Mr. Tucker, of Fond du Lac, Wis., broke his arm, and the doctors had tc . cut out four inches of the bone, including the elbow joint, though they left the j muscles and ligaments uuinjured. A clever surgeon has just fitted him with i an artificial elbow joint that works like a charm. In the valley near Bautas, Cal., a field 1 of ripe wheat containing one thousand acres was recently destroyed by fire. Three hundred farmers fought the flamet desperately with wet sacks, but nothing seemed to have any eflect until the fire reached a belt of green wheat, there il J stopped. j The marble quarries of Carrara, Italy, | have been worked since the reign of Augustus. They embrace an entire I mountain range. 40,000 tons of marble I were sent to this country from these quarries year before last. The entire working populace in Carrara finds employment in them. David Freshwater, of Carthage, Mo., had a fine farm, but the crops promised to be poor, and the other day one of his hogs died. His cup was full and, seizing a hatchet, he cut several frightful gashes on his head, then jumped into a lake too' shallow to drown him, and finally, climbing a tree, jumped to the ground to dash his brains out, but caught in tho limbs and was taken home ' to recover. i' Odc8 in a while a man iB found whe i ! distrusts saving banks and safe deposit 11 companies, and institutions that take 11 money on investment; who thrusts hif ) I savings into old stockings or trunks, j gets it out and counts it before he goes i to bed, worries about it by day ant i dreams about it by night. Such a mar > | Mr. King of Yesey street, New York, ! i seems to be. He had thirty thonsanc . | dollars in an old satchel which he loekee ' | in a small room in the top of his house, I The money was fingered over daily tc ' see whether it was all there. When ii j came time to go through with that op> : eration on a recent Saturday night the ( | satchel was missing. Thieves had | I crawled through tho skylight and hac I made off with the cash that was to make I Mr. King happy in his old age. ! An exhibition of the written addressee ! presented to the German Emperor aftei : I tho recent attempts on his life has beer opened at the Old Palace at Berlin. ! Besides thousands of telegrams, there are more than two hundred addresses, i j the number of signatures to each ad| dress vurving Between ten and ten thousand . Many of the addresses are perfect works of arb, calligraphically executed . j and adorned with pen and ink drawings, l i water-color paintiugs and photographs, i ! Most of the bindings are in blue velvet, j the favorite color of the emperor, with i i gold or silver clasps, and alto-relievos in j the same metals. Of all tho principal, I political, municipal and learned corporaj tions in Germany are added those 1 rone i : the German residents in Vienna, Pesth, : Dublin, Brussels, Antwerp, Revel, Mos I j cow, St. Petersburg, Switzerland, etc, I j Nearly all the addresses are in German , i but there are several in Latin, Italian ! Hebrew and other languages. The get - j ting up has probably never been sur i i passed for taste, costliness and art. 1 I j Dexterity of a Goat. Dr. Clarke relates that when he wai traveling from Jerusalem to Bethlehem his party fell in with an Arab who had i goat which ho led about the country foi ' exhibition. He had taught this animal ' | while he accompanied it with a sonpr, tc | I mount upon little blocks of wood, placet: ' successively on one another, and ir ! shape resembling the dice-boxes of o ' I back-gammon table. In this mannei ' j the goat stood first upon the top of one '! cylinder, then upon tho top of two, and 1 1 #Aiif flCA flYhi fli*. i Ui LO'l 111 UO Ut MUICW, luui, Mfv ? ?, ' until it remained balanced npon the top ' i ol them all, elevated several feet from ' : the ground, and with liis fonr feet col| lected on a single point, without throw ing down the disjointed fabric on which ho stood. Dr. Clarke adds that this feal ' is very ancient. It is also noted b\ Sandys. Nothing can show more strik ' ingly the tenacious footing possessed bj this quadruped upon the jutting pointf j and crags of rock, and the circumstance j of its ability to remain thus poised maj ' render this exhibition less surprising. J It is seen frequently in mountainous I countries standing securely, though with | hardly any place for its feet, upon the sides and by the brink of the most trej mendous precipices. The diameter ol the upper cylinder, upon which its feel i ultimately remained until the Arab had finished his ditty, was only two inches, and the length of each cylinder was sij i inches. The most curions part of the i performance occurred afterwards,for the Arab, to convince Dr. Clarke's party .of , the goat's attention to his tune, interrupted da capo; as often as he did thie j the goat tottered, appeared uneasy, and upon his master becoming suddonlj silent in the midst of tho song, fell tc ! the ground. t'nrrier Pigeons. Iu his interesting manual of natrirnl history which is now appearing iu smaii installments, Scarpaueri puts that the carrier pigeons of good breed, although 'they may be started, in company and , bound for the name place, fly nnite independently of one another. Each one ' selects its own course, some Inking a | high-r, others a lower flight, and speeds j on its way without taking any heed of its 1 neighbor. The bird?, in f ict-, seem to ! know that they are racing, and each one ! exerts itself to fhe utmost to arrive first at. the goal. Tli the neighborhood of every pigeon house there aie always jcertuiu places, trees, etc., which are ; usually fnvorito resorts of the birds, bn* wiien coming iu in a race the well! bred pigeon never stops for u moment at j any of these hunnts, but liiea straight to its own particular house, frequently arriving there in so exhausted astute as | to bouu?bleto eat the food it is most ; i'oud of. Birds which are sitting, or ; which h'ive lately hitched young, are ; generally tsiu-ti in preference to others i for raciug; but instances have been j known in which carrier pigeons of flood breed which have been taken to n fresli nonie, and which have hatched young there, have deserted their brood and flown away to their original home at the flrfrt opportunity they had of escaping. Items of Interest. ?| Americans eat twice as much salt as V , ihe English. * ' !VTbe graeshoppers have appeared in ! Central America. * : 3 ) - + -JWft | ! What ought not to be done, do not * y "*. | even think of doing. j A fast young uian: The one who eat- j i down on a Dot of yiue. i Should a lady, who jumps at an offer,' be ranked among the athletic ? The fiist piano in the United States was made at Philadelphia in 1775. All honest men will bear watohing. It- ; is the rascals who cannot stand it. Women love flowers aud birds. Tbey are, however, not eo partial to swallows as the men are. , ^ ' ; j James Nutthing, of Arkansas, plnnged i j into a river and rf.HCued a drowning oom- ' panion. Good for Nutthing. Beasts of prey aro unknown in Mads- ' ' ? gaecar, but the rivers abound in alliga* . tors, and scorpions are very prolific, ; A quidnunk iz an individual who goes 1 about stealing other folk's time, arid ; phooling away i is own.?Jo*h Billings. , "How greedy you are 1" said one little girl to another who had taken the best .:.. apple in the dish; "I was going to take i ^ that/' ^ /* I The boy who will ride around all day * ; on a velociDede considers himself tern-. . ' ,! bly imposed upon if he baa to wheel hifl.'. :*3 ,' baby sister two or three blocks. - V . -,'A i i There was a time in this country when . * a ; the man who was sunstruok would etnke j back, but Americans are loosing, their ". ' ! taste for war.?Detroit Free Press. - ' 3 The small boy looks with longing eyes, - * ' -A Upon the applo green; , - ' He will not touch them if he'j wise. Lurking in the core there lies ' ,1 ? Colio and cramp unseen. - , " ' '] The inhabitants of Madagascar are j dying to get hold of an American ship h : captain who sold them 10,000 quart I cans of tomatoes as a new kind of gun- | powder. Their old blunderbusses i wouldn't go off. ' Tho funniest punctuation mark is the , by-fun, of course. Next.? Whitehall i Times. The queerest punctnation mark' f'J, ' is tho peri-odd, to be sure. Next.? . Rome Sentinel. No, thank you, we are not so bold as-ter-risk making another.-.V. ) . Mail. - V'V 'I . The women of Cyprus, like all the ' Greek women, chew great quantities of ! mastic, imported by the island of Scjo, ' fri j and deem it graceful to appear always ' ! biting this gum, r.nd it will soon be in/ , | or.ier for a later Byron to remark, "Maid !i of Cyprus, now we've come, leave, sh,? 1 leave off chewing gnm." ' * , * j THE BDUBLE BEE? * . | ' Buzzing little busybody, Happy liitle hay-field rover. : Don't you feel your own importanoe, > Bantling through theBe wilds of clover f * . r " 43 I " Don't your little wings grow weary - - . 1 Of this never-coabiny labor?When the butterfly owing* near yon, ) Envy yon vour idle neighbor? v. * ' " Stay a moment! Stay an-1 tell me. t Won't my gossip make yon tarry? ' ? Hurry home, theu, honey-laden, / [ | JJttBl, ttB UUBJ VTl^otuu waw;. , M " Fare-the-well, my iioy toiler, I j Noiay little mid-air steamer; ' . . Thon haat taught a who!osom9 Ic88oa. V .. ' /. To an idle daylight dreamer. ? , J A Gorman natftfalist*- .Tajberg, sag. i gosts the industrial application of'the [ J mussel. The well known byetua, or strong silky threads which these animals . , !spin in order to fasten themselves io - V .' rooks and stones, is pointed out as a ; probable raw material to rival the eorae. I what similiar threads spun by the silk; worm. The threads of the pinna,. a [ | mollnsk allied to the mussel, havo been ' j worked into fine fabrics and made into - * ! gloves, and li3ve, for a long time, been ! in common use among the poorer class j of girls and women in Ita.y for each " , purposes. The toughness of the byssua of the mussel is a strong recommendation in favor of its adaptation to some such ?' i use. ' t The annual rate of mortality, accord. ing to the most recent weekly returns , j in Calcutta, was thirty-three; Bombay, ( | thirty- six ; Madras, forty; P^ris, , I twenty-three; Geneva, twenty-one . Brussels, thirty ; Amsterdam, twenty. four; Rotterdam, twenty-nine; Tne-^ Hague, twenty-five; 'Copenhagen, twenty-four; Stockholm, twenty-two;' Cl.ristiania, nineteen; St. Petersburg, forty-eight; Berlin, fifty two; Ham bnrg, twenty-nine ; Dresdeu, thirty ; 3 i Breslau, thirty-two ; Munich, thirty ? j five ; Vienna, thirty; Buda Pestb, i-?1 thirty-nine ; Rjme, twenty eight:, r Naples, thirty-nine; Turin, twenty p?8ii3 < j six ; Venice, twenty -one ; Alexandria, rag > i fifty five ; Now York, twenty three ; ' Brooklyn, eighteen ; Philadelphia, 1 nineteen, and Baltimore, twenty. i A Niagara correspondent unearths ( some interesting literature in a file of the n,itnropf TTnnflfl registers dating back to ^ 1825. This hotel is tho oldest in the ./ gfiSB j village, and its registers contain the antograplis of many distinguished histor- WjSaj _ ical personages. Not loDg ago an old gentleman, visiting tho house, asked r ' permission to look at the book. On. ; turning over its leaves, he pointed out &jk \ his name written thereon fifty years ago. At that time ho was a young mau, just \ entering life, and this was his weddingtour. The name of hi$ wife, evidently a tenderly loved woman, hut now dead, , was inscribed beside his own. The sight of this name was sufficient to overcome . him, and he had to turn away to hide his tears. In those early days it was . . . ' the fashion to write remarks on the books, according to the taste of the . | writer. [ Theater Burning. ? A few statistics, says the London : Builder, taken from the list of theaters > destroyed by fire, contained in tho work J of Herr Folsch, will teach us, if instruc tion wore needed, how highly danger ous our modern stages are. Nearly i every theater in London and Paris has 1 been burnt down in its turn, in London ' alone to the number of thirty-one. 1 During the last thirty ye irs fifty sevea fires were < fiicially recorded in London, and a great many firo alarms may have uever come to the knowledge of the authorities. Of 252 theaters there have been burnt down five beforo opening, | seventy iu the first five years after opening, thirty-eight in from six to ten years ! after opening, forty-five in from eleven ! to twenty years aftt-r opening, tweutyI seven in from twenty-one to thir-'y years I after opening, twelve in from thirty?one to forty years after opening, twenty in from forty-one to fifty years after opm* j ing, seventeen in from fifty-one to sixty i years after opening, seven in from sixty| one to eighty years after opening, eiRnt j in from eighty-one to one hundred I years after opening, three upward of one I hundred years after opeuiug?total, 252. The above figures s'.iow that the average j nge of those theaters destroyed by tire j amounts to about twenty-two and threeI fourths years. On the average about I thirteen theaters are-iestroyed ear-h year, j the worst mouths being from junnar^ I fo March, the ffwr^t tires tnking p.'aoe from July to S>'pterul>? r. M?st of thrm lmve taken place in the puddle of the week, the most fafc:I day* in th* n:ontb being, i'traufrelv, tlie 8th, loih, anl 22 i. Fortunately, of tlie 'iinny ronflugrutionn chronicled <>n!v thirty tit * broke out trhilo rcpr??5< nfations wr<J going on; but t'noso have, on the otLer band, been the most. dangerous on r<0ord. Most of the firoa took place in tie I middle of the night.