The Abbeville press and banner. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, September 11, 1878, Image 1
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.