The Abbeville press and banner. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, July 07, 1880, Image 1

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I 'W' . V- V-; -;-7?-,;NV~""- ' -r~vyr" -.w-.-,* - - . c^-^y?- y-y SSSSS&t 1 " 1 ' ' - ? ? L I * : . . . - ?- - . ' - : "im Vv:., : - IrjlB ABBEVILLE PRESS & MINER | vA:' ,, ' " . -??? ' -j, * BY HUGH WILSON AND H. T. WARDLAW. ABBEVILLE, S. C., WEDNESDAY, JULY 7, 1880. NO. 5. VOLUME XXVL;^-|gj Work. II botoo great angel spake to me to night In awful language of tho unknown land, Bidding me choose trom treasure infinite, From goodly gilts and glories in his hand, The thing I coveted, what should I tuke? Fame's wrcutli ot bays ? The fickle world's esteem ? Nay, greenest bays may wave on brows that ache, And world's applauding passeth as a dream* ' Should I choose love to fill mine empty heart, I With eolt, strong sweetness, as in days of i old? Nay, for love's mpture hath an alter smart, And on love's rose the thorns are inanilold. j Should I choose lilo with long succecding years? Nay, earth's 'ong life is longer time lor tears. I would choose work, and never-lailing power J To work without weak hindrance by the | way, Without recurrence of the weary hour When tired, tyrant nature holds its sway Orer the busy brain and toiling hand. Oh! it an angel came to me to-night, Speaking in language ot the unknown land, So would I choose lrom the treasure infinite. I Bnt well 1 know the blessed gilt I crave, The tireless stiength tor never-ending task' j enot this lite, but beyond the grave It may bo 1 shall find the thing [ ask; For I believe there is a better land, Where will, and work and strength go hand in hand. ?All the Vvar Round. A Precious Little Liar, j i " It is impossible, then?" he. "Quite impossible," she. " I cannot see why!" viciously gnawing his mustache, a discontented light in the handsome gray eyes that are not wont to see anything dikagreeable. "Perhaps not," with irritating com posure; " but that does not alter the case in the least, you know." ^ "You have no pupils at that hour? Tour time is your own in the evening, ! I believe 9" ( "Shall I tell you why I cannot go?' , she asks, desperately, at last suddenly J raising her eyes to his with a quicK flash of lieht that is almost dazzling in its brightness. ] "Yes, if you can," skeptically. " Oh, I can! I have a reason?a most ] frosaic, practical, matter-of-fact reason, j t is because I have nothing to wear!" boldly, but nevertheless flushing hotly at the humiliating confession, and the next instant adding rapidly, as if it . were an alter-thought or some sudden 1 inspiration: " That is, I left my trunk J in JRidgeport. You know I was not sure of giving satisfaction here, and 1 thought it as well not to bring the trunk ! at first." | "And is that your very good reason?" 1 he laughs, carelessly; and then with ' one full, comprehensive glance, he takes 1 in the slight erect figure from the waves ! and puffs ot the high coiffure to the graceful sweep of the " princess " train, : and is evidently well pleased with the result of the inspection; for, although 1 the dress is of the cheapest, cut and fashioned by the girl's own deft fingers, j there is naucht to offend the most ex- ; acting taste or that would not please ' even an artist's eve. " Nothing to wear," ho repeats, softly. "Well,I don't know of'any woman who can so well afford to set at defiance all outward adorning, who can so safely ; dare to dispense with the aid of fine ; dressing and rely solely on her own in* trinsic worth." 1 She flushes again?oh, if that rebellious color were only under the same commendable control as voice and eyes! ; ?but ignores altogether the passionate tenderness of his tone and glance as she ruthlessly returned to a practical point of conversation. " It is verv kind and consoling for 1 you to make the best ot it in that fashion, Mr. Courtland; but you know, and I know, that it would never do for me to attend an affair as imposing as the reception in question is to be, unless I could dress to suit the occasion. Therefore I must submit as best I may to the rulings of an unkind and exorable fate." " A.nd I, I suppose, must profit by the | lesson you teach and submit also; for ' neither would it do for me to absent myself from an only sister's wedding reception even though the one thing is \ missing, the lack of which will render all else 4 flat, stale and unprofitable,' and all because you were heedless enough to leave your trunk." A little while later he takes his leave, mounts the handsome chestnut awaiting him, and gallops at a rapid rate down the broad, countrv road, raisin? a 1 - cloud of fine, white dust as he goes, and finally disappearing altogether from the wistful, longing eyes that are straining themselves tor a last look. And when she can see him no more, not even a vestige of the white cloud, she turns her eyes inward and reviews .ier own heart; and now there comes over the young face a frightened, almost a pitiful expression at she realizes how utterly this young god is enshrined there also. " What shall I do, what shall I do?" she murmurs, half-aloud, and actually wrings her hands as ifin agony. "But," with a sudden return to her usual, wellregulated self, "there is but one thing to do. and that is to fight it out bravely as I have fought out a great many other hard things. And then laughing aloud: "That was a lucky thought about the trunk, and a rather bold stroke, too. Heigho! I wonder if the recordint; angel will hold me responsible for all these miserable subterfuges that this exccrable, genteel poverty forces me into? I guess mammy would shake her blessed old head reprehensibly over my harmless little fibs; but, oh, mamsee, dear, how was I to acknowledge to Philip Courtland that I was oo poor??actually could not afl'ord a dress in honor of his sister's wedding reception? He might have known?L< j he had had the least consideration or I common sense?he might have known j the truth, and yet how should he know either?he who has only traveled, smiling, fortune's high road, how should he i kbe familiar with poverty's dark and devious by-ways?" The next morning finds Miss Adair at I her usual post, diligently bending over | .he t)iano. euiding Natalie's awkward , Kpf little fingers. over the ivory keys, : laudably, .however vainly, endeavoring ;o instill some musical enthusiasm into t he willing ?et totally unresponsive litpjjg tlesoul. Much to Natalie's relief and Miss \d air's annoyance, the door opens and the lesfon is interrupted by the entrance of a servant. "You are wanted in the hall a moment, Miss Cecil; there is a trunk for ~, you." A trunk for me, Maggie??impossifble! I ordered no trunk. Tell the man there is some mistake ;"['and she relentlessly resumes the lesson. 44No, Natalie, it is three-quarters time; accent on first and third beats; do you not understand?" Hut Natalie's good angel is on the , qui vive to-day, and does not mean to I be thwarted. The door opens again, Ifgf and it is the landlady?Natalie's mother ?who appears now. . Indeed. Cecil. the trunk is for .vou i The man will bear to nothing else, and l your name is on it in full. Come at F once and see if it is really yours, for my 1^^ jUrioBity is thoroughly aroused. Yes, jw? Natalie, you may go. Miss Cecil will a inUh your lesson another time." m Tne child waits no second bidding. | - mt gladly slips from the stool, and I 3*oll? a t?wUdeved Joo^ oo her face, ; ollows Mrs. Branscombe's portly | igure into tlie hall. Mrs. Branscombe's rather pretentious ! dwelling, situated just on the edge of the village, is the boarding-house of Lynville, and, as there is quite a sprinkling of aristocracy in and about the sleepy little town, Mrs. B. can truly coast that her boarders are all firstblass, unless, indeed, an exception mav be made in regard to Cecil Adair, musicteacher, who works for her daily bread instructing the numerous little Brans-1 combe's in music in exchange for her board. It is a close, sultry morning in August, and several of the lady boarders have taken refuge in the wide, cool hall, where a pleasant breeze is stirrinc. or are seated on the vine-covered veranda that runs the full length of the house. The most striking figure in tiie group, however, is the burly, good-natured negro, who is stolidly standing guard over nn unassuming little trunk, fanning himself with his tattered straw hat. One glance is sufilcient to dispel Cecil's doubts and assure her that the trunk is really hers. Ala?! there is 110 mistaking it; it has served too long and too faithfully for that. 4' Where did you get it ?" she demands, helplessly. " Who sent it?" " It was Mars' Philip Courtland what told metofoteh it, Miss. 'Now Jelf,' he scd to me, 'ef you gits dat 'ar trunk dar by twelve o'clock, I'll gin you one dollar; ef you gits it dar fo' twelve, I'll gin you two dollars. And I's done it, too, and de two dollars is mine, kase Mars' Phil nebber goes back on his word. Whar will you have it tuk, Miss Cecil?" "What does it mean, Cecil?" ques tions Mrs. Bransoombe. " I do not understand it at all." The ladies, attracted by Jefl's voice, have gathered round eager .with curiosity; one dashing looking brunette especially, who is always interested in anything pertaining to Philip Courtland, has stepped forward, and is superciliously eying the trunk, the negro and Cecil herseif. " It is only this," Cecil begins, desperately, seeing an explanation is imperative. "Mr. Courtland was very anxious for me to attend the reception to-morrow evening. I told him it was impossible, as my trunk was not here, and consequently I had nothing to wear. I suppose he imagined he was doing me a ?reat service " " Oh, certainly," sneered Miss Perrivai, the above-mentioned brunette. " We believe that story. It is scarcely probable that he would have taken such i liberty unless he had been duly authorized or commissioned " " It is a matter of utter indifference to me whether you beiieve or not," returns Cecil, her color burning high. "But I imagine you will, one and all, be readily convinced of the truth of my statement when you know?and know you must? in what an awkward dilemma the whole iffair has placed me. Perhaps it was cowardly, but I did shrink from acknowledging to Philip Courtland that I xmld not afford a dress for his sister's reception, and so I put it on the plea of my trunk not being here, little dreaming he would take such a step as this. Now, not only my extreme povery will be exposed, but the contemptible duplicity I stooped to also, for the trunk is empty?literally emtty I Bring it up to my ro>om "?this to Jeff, as she precedes aim up the stairs with the grand air .hat Philip Courtland has admired as queenly, but that Miss Percival conLemptuously denominates as "giving berselfairs." Poor Jeff! Somewhat crestfallen, he shoulders his burden, scarcely comprehending the situation, but decidedly of ihe opinion that " Mais Phil has done ?one and put his foot in it, for sho'!" Indeed, when the innocently-offending trunk has been carefully deposited in the small room whither he is ushered, he is not altogether certain that it will be safe to deliver the note intrusted to his keeping, but remembering the positive injunctions received along with the note. "Be sure to give it to her, Jeff?Miss Adair. Do you understand ? Put it in her hands. Do not trust it to anv one else," he considers it wiser to face the anger of this pale, pretty girl than to encounter Philip Courtland's fierce wrath should his orders be neglected. L .?? 4- attJI.1 Tftff ?onrnnf 1 tj ? f?, UCIWCCU uwv i:vil3 wcu uiowcvKij choose the leict, and for the first time considers his two dollars sca"cely earned as he reluctantly draws the note from his pocket. "Heah's a letter, Miss Cecil, as he sed I was to give it into yo' hands and nobody else's." The next instant he sliuffle3 out of the room as he shuttles out of our story. Cecil: There is no reason now who you should not come?nothing to prevent. 1 trust you will not be offended at the liberty I have taken; but how could I allow such a trifle to stand between me and a whole evening's happiness. I have so much to say "to you, it seems that I cannot wait until to-morrow evening. I long for, and yet dread ?yes, for once I own myself a coward ?the moment when I shall hold your hand in mine and look into your sweet, truthful eyes and know what my life is to be. Good-bye now until to-morrow night, when?as ever yours, Tl?.. ... M IT 11IL.1I". A dozen sweet, passionate kisses, and a rain of hot, happy tears, to consecrate the little white-winged, love-laden messenger?that is all in the first few delicious moments when she realizes that her heart has not slipped from her keeping in vain?that Philip Courtland loves her. But afterward come a thousand doubts and fears trooping in upon her, trampling roughshod the'beauteous blossom of her love at its very birth. What will he think when she does not come?that she is offended??that she takes this way of delicately answering his question before it is fairly put. Yes, but one construction can be placed on her abence now. On what trifles do our destinies hinge? Is she, then, to suffer this great penance her whole life through to atone for one miserable white lie? Can it be just? Or is everything always to be tyarder for her than for others? But awhile later, when she presents hersell below, sbe ha3 left behind this tumultuous, passion-wrought girl, with rtunlin/i nKonlra on/) fnon-fo lion on no uci UU911VU auu itai imau w, and it is a very calm, pale, unrullled Miss Adair, bearing herself with a certain proud dignity, almost hateur, that goes the rounds of her accustomed duties. I But, alas! she has not succeeded in burying entirely that other unhappy, restless creature; she is not to be crushed out of existence quite so easily, for the next evening when Miss Adair is left in unmolested possession of the premise??the servants even begging an evening off?the other Cecil comes with her aching, throbbing heart, and takes revenge for her short-lived expulsion in the most cruel, uncompromising, exacting fashion. And Philip?what is he doing now, she wonders, waiting for the answer to his precious note?the answer that will never come. She glances in the direction of his home. To-night it is agleam with a hundred twinkling lights, and there is music, mirth and laughter, while she? ah! she is like that foolish peri of old outside the golden gate with never so much as a glimpse of the paradise within. But Philip Courtiand would laugh in derision at the idea of paradise; for in all his life he never remembers feeling himself as remotely removed from blissful regions, or a prey to such tormenting anxiety and susprnse; and it required all the self-control at his command to preserve an unruffled exterior as he passes through the spacious rooms playing the ro)?> of the courteous, host. ' - He succeeds in bis efl'ort, however, find to such Jin admirable extent that even Alicia Percival, in the ready flow of society small talk and easy, careless manner, can detect no sign of the turbulent, angry current seething below. Miss Percival has always been an aggressive element to Philip Courtland ?an element that, had he been consuited in the pianning of the universe, would have been dispensed with altogether. Her showy, coarse style of beauty escaping the vulgar; her loud, bold manner, together with the open, unequivocal, gossip provoking preference she had always evinced for him, had done their work toward disgusting | Philip Courtland. But Philip Courtland is not everybody; and Miss Percival, possessing tliat magic sesame, an ample ortune, society's gates ily open at her approach and society itself, dazzled by the glamour of her gold, fails to detect or forgets to condcmn her lack of culture, her ill-breediDg and innate nnarspnpss. To-ni<rht she is effusively present, and a smile of warmest welcome breaks over her face as she makes room for Philip Courtland at her side, she can afford to smile, for she is at peace with all tl:a world?at least, the small radius that constitutes her world. Her toilet, a costly one, prepared for the occasion, though a trifle bizarre in PhiliD Courtland's artistic eye, meets her views exactly. The one rival she fears?for with all her stupidity she has been astute J enough for that-is absent from the field; and, bfst of all, she is in posses- ] sion of something detrimental to that rivpl?a little something that she has rolled like a sweet morsel under her tongue and means to make good use of at the earliest opportunity. And the opportunity is not long in presenting itself. Philip is only to impatient to gain some clew to t:.e cause of Cecil's nonappearance, and so unintentionally falls into the intentional traD set for him. " No," alluding to a lady at the piano, "she cannot sing equai to Miss Adair. But then, who can? By the way, what have you done with Miss Adair this evening? She is not present, I believe.' "Oh, Cecil, you mean. No, she s not here. It's too funny, I declare; it makes me laugh now only to think of it; and yet it was anything but funny for her." "Whatdo you mean? I do not understand," he asks, with an eager, puzzled air. "No, poor fellow, I suppose you do not understand, or you would never have committed the egregious blunder you have." "I?a blunder! Explain yourself, Mips Percival " " Oh, it was all about that unforunate trunk affair. It seems that a certain vminrr orpntleman sent Dost haste for I Cecil's trunk because?deceitful little imp! who would have imagined her capable of surh a thing??she induced him to believe that she could not attend the reception because she had not brought her evening dresses!" glancinc complacently down at her own magnificent attire. "I don't suppose she ever possessed such a thing. Well, it never occurred to her that he would send for the trunk, and you never saw any one as chagrined as she was when it came, for it had nothing in it?nothing at all. You can fancy her dismay? ' < | or suamr, n buuu n ucatuiu uw jwi shame?at being caught in an actual lie. I suppose it is best to give things their proper names, if it does sound a little harsh; and it was, you know, an out-and-out lie?and Cecil Adair, of all people, with her high-flown airs and graces! Do you remember that first evening you met her at Mrs. Branscombe's, you 9aid that you had never seen such eyes in any women?so clear and truthful, as if you could look hrough them into her very sou)3" " Did I say it to you?1' replies Philip in a low tone. ' I don't remember that, but I know I thought it." And Cecil has determined to be her usual brave self, and crush out of her heart this agonizing, unbearable painmore unbearable yet since it followed so closely in the train of the tumultuous new joy that had of late taken up its abode with her. But the task she has set is more difficult than she feared, and it is the vainest nrpt*>n<ip?i 11st a shallow little sham? to cheat herself that she holds an open book on her lap. Unread, it slips from her fingers, and she surrenders herself 10 a sort of numb despair, heeding nothing whatever, not even a firm, quick step outside, a light leap over the low balcony, and an unceremonious entrance through the open window; not so much as looking up until Philip Courtland's clear voice rouse3 her to consciousness, and even then a consciousness too startled and abrupt to express itself in anything but an amazed, wondering stare. "It is only this," he says, quietly, ir. answer to the mute questioning, "the mountain would not come to Mahommed?Mahommed has come to the mountain." "It would have been wiser, perhaps," she replies quickly and averting her head, "it Mahommed had not * I cannot?I will not believe it," he answers, eagerly bending low, yet in vain, for a glimpse of the face so effectually shielded, "unless, indeed, you are really the atrocious dissembler, the arrant deceiver Miss Percival would make out;" and if it is a diplomatic stroke to gain his point, it proves wonderfully successful, for instantly the head is raised with a motion almost regal, and the angry, indignant eyes flash full into his. " She told you, then, the whole humiliating truth? I knew she would; she has?" " Yes," he interrupted, gravely, rather enjoying this outraged young queen that he longs to take in his arms, "she told me all about it, the whole disreputable story?just what a thoroughly wicked thing you had been guilty of. And do you know, Cecil, I coulc have kissed her for every word as it fell from her lips, unconsciously disabusing my mind as it did of the horrible fear that you had not come because?because?oh, Cecil, you precious little liar, do you think I wili ever forgive you lor all I have suffered this night, or accept but one reparation?" And perhaps he doos not clasp her in his arms, anil perhaps there is not a rain of kisses and a rain of tears, too, for that matter? but I forget; do we not overstep the privileges cf mere o-uu * Nicely Caught. Dana Krura, one of the conductors on the Erie railroad, was approached before train time by an unknown man who spoke to him as if he Imd known him foi years. " I say, Dana," said he, " I have forgotten my pass, and I want to co tc Susquehanna; I am a fireman on the road, you know?" but the conductoi told him he ought to have a pass witli him. It was the safest way. Prettj soon Dana came along to collect tickets Seeinir his man, he spoke when h< reached him: "Say, my friend, hav< you the time with you?" " Yes," said he, as he pulled out j watch, " it is twenty minutes past nine.' ' Oh, it is, is it? Now, if you don' show me yoi'r pass, or fare, I will stoj the train. There is no railroad mai that I ever saw who would say ' twenty minutes past nine.' He would say' nim twenty.'" He settled. The most promising young men o this country are those who "will cal arouna soon anu spllu; ni?i< nixie uuuuuu which should have been paid long ago. [ ?Bloomington Eye. i " Let me have fair play," as tli* fnun tain said to ihs atmoiiph?r<?; TIMELY TOPICS. "Death probably caused by over work." was the ma> ginal remark of i New York doctor on the certificate re lating to the death of one Sophia Rahe a sewing machine teacher whom he ha< attended. The case is a peculiarly sat one. There was a rivalry between th< east and we9t side agents of the com pany by which Miss Rahe was em ployed, and in her eagerness to ouid: her'competitors in the discharge of hei arduous duties the poor girl ofter woi ked from an early hour in th< morning until nine and ten o'clock a night. The Madison Square garden propertj in New York has been sold for $800,0(M to Barnum's Museum company, a corporation organized with a capital o ?3,000,000 for the purpose of erecting the largest exhibition building in tlx world, to be opened early next year Win. H Vanderbilt makes a subscription of a quarter of a million to the enterprise, and is to be a director. P. T, I Barnum and other capitalists will b( I 1 1 1^.4 rtrnfj rtrl Horn 11 TO fll<3#V will lIlll.'LtOVV/Ui l*ivvr .. ... bo president of the company. The building will contain a place for pedestrian and other matches requiring large space, an opera house, a museum, etc. That was a high affair, the banquet given by Francis Joseph, Emperor of Austria, to a choral convention at Vienna a few days ago. At two o'clock in the afternoon tl ey assembled in front of the imperial residence to the number of 2,000, and sang several pieces composed specially for the occasion. The enrperor, the empress and the princess of the blood meanwhile stood on the balcony. When the performance was over, the emperor invited his guests into dinner. (The repast as may be imagined was a colossal affair. More than 800 servants waited at the table. Eight ox< n and fifty bucks were devoured, while it needed 1,500 bottles of champagne to assuage the thirst of the guests. After dessert they smoked no less than 3,000 cigars. Smuggling is easier in America than in Europe. In Canada, it is said, when you buy a bill of cheap goods all that is necessary is to leave with the shopkeeper the name of the hotel on the American side at which yua are stopping. The goods are ready tor you when you return. But in Germany and Austria it is far otherwise. They watch closer. For instance, a few days ago a farmer in Saxony, who lives near the Austrian frontier and owns land over the border, had some men at work in one of his fields in Bohemia, and at lunch time sent them some bread and butter and brandy by way of refreshment. The Austrian customs officers seized the provisions as contraband, and summoned the sender to appear before the high customs council to answer to the charge of smuggling. The Kingdom of L'orea. The prospects of our opening very soon the kingdom of Corea to communication with the external world will, says a New York paper, be welcome to our own and to all civilized people. It is now the sole country on the globe sealed against commerce and progress, and the general and inevitable ignorance of the land, its people, and its customs has been sufficient to make it interestin?, for the unknown is always attractive. This peninsular kingdom of Asia, tributary to China, is mountainous throughout, densely wooded in some istricts, with tolerably fertile valleys. The climate, glacial in the north, is elsewhere like the climate of Japan. Rain is excessive there, and snow is universal in winter. The inhabitants are probably of Tungusic stock, the same as that which has populated all Northern Asia. They are in feature more positively Mongolian than the Japanese, whom they yet closely resemble. Their ' ~ /IJIVniMnir mntorinllv frnm lilllti UUftl', \4I1AC& 111ft U4Mvv.?im... ..w both Chinese and Japanese, is like the latter in its polysyllable form and alphabet of twenty-seven letters. The native alphabet and writing are nearly obsolete, but the Chinese characters are everywhere familiar. The religion and, indeed., most of the political institutions arejb:ised on those of China. The Chinese state deities are generally worshiped; Buddhism and Taoism have many adherents, and the learned classes cleave to the moral system of Confucius. The monarchy is despotic, somewhat tempered by'privileged ranks and hereditary nobility, and the officers are chosen. The Coreans live very plainly, even primitively, their principal food being inferior rice and grain. Some cotton, silk and tobacco is raised; but agriculture is not understood or practiced to any extent, although considerable pepper and giuseng are exchanged with the Chinese lor other products. Minerals are plenty, yet very small quantities ol gold, silver, copper, iron and lead are mined. The population has been estimated at from 5,000,000 to 20,000,000, and is probably in the neighborhood of 14,000.000. The kinedom's policy of strict isolation from other people has included even tbe Chinese, "witli whom they hold no intercourse, except at the annual embassv, accompanied by a lew privileged traders, and of the fairs, periodically held at the Gate-town, near the Mantchusian City ot Feenghwang. The Chinese hatred of everything foreign is intensified by traditions ol ancient enmity between them and the inhabitants of Ch'ao-sien, as Corea was once called. The Mongol conquerors ol China subjugated Corea likewise; bul the Ming; dynasty restored the sovereignty oi that country, which in tim( got its pi-esent name. Christianity wa^ planted there, oddly enough, in 15^2, bj Christian converts among the invadim forces of the Japanese usurper, Taico sama. Until recently nearly all infor mution about Corea came from the ac count of Hamel, a Dutch sailor, wreckec there and detained for thirteen years We have made two offensive expedi tions to the kingdom in consequence o attacks by the natives on our vessels We did not succeed in breaking dowi nnnnlior nflnnln hll tiltr uiiniuia wi uic ^Ltuuuii pwp.v, we shall probably succeed the nex time. Change in the Frog. Nowhere in the animal kingdom i there so favorable an opportunity fo peeping into nature's workshop as i the metamorphoses of the frog. Thi animal is a worm when it comes fror the egg, and remains such the first lou days of its life, having neither eyes no ears, nostrils nor respiratory organ: It crawls. It breathes through its skir Alter a while a neck is grooved into tb llesh. Its soft lips are hardened into | horny beak. The diflerent organs, or aner anoiuer, uuu uul; uivii n. pun > ! branching gills, unci lust a long un | limber tail. The worm has become ; lish. Three or four days more elaps and the gills sink back into the bod; 1 while in their place others come, muc r more complex, arranged in vasculi ; tufts, 112 in each. But they, too, ha\ \ their day and are absorbed, togethi 3 with their framework of bone and ca tiiage, to be succeeded by an entire] \ dliferent breathing apparatus, the ini tii f of a second correlated group of radii;; cuange. ijuiik1* iuc <iuvciu|>cu, n } mouth widened, the horny beak coi 1 verted into rows of teeth, the stomacl j[ the abdomen, the intestines, prepare e for the reception of animal food in plai of vegetable; four limbs, fully equippi with hip and shoulder bones, wii nerves and blood vessels, push o' j through the skin, while the tail, beii I now supplanted by them as a means t locomotion, is carried away piecemt ? by the absorbents, **nd the animal pass the balance of its days as an air-briat ing and flesh-fccdirg batrachian. Georgia's youngest grandmother wenty-sSx yowa old. li?i . Crossties nnd Telegraph Poles. But few people comparatively have - any idea of the amount of timber used 1 in the construction of a single railroad. - We hear that our forests are rapidly disappearing, and we know that niateri ial for building and the luel cause-i the 1 sacrifice of many leafy monarchs of the 2 forest; yet only the initiated know that it yearjy takes 2( 0,000 acres of forest to - supply crossties for the railroads of the > United States. We interviewed a genr tleman who has been in the business i for thirty years, and concluding that his observations and experience would be t of interest to the readers of the Covituo m'ro fhp substance of his talk. It takes 15,000,000 ties to supply ' the demand on our railroads, for which, ' on an average, the contractors get thirty-live cents a ?>iece, making in the f aggregate $5,250,000. In building anew ' road the contractors figure on 2,700 ties ' to the mile, while it takes 300 ties to the mile to keep a constructed road in repair. Contractors of course buy pieces of timber land jis near to the pro posed line of road as possible, paying for the timber on an average of about I SJO per acre, or giving the proprietor ' of the land ten cents for every tie gotten out. The average of a good picce of 1 timber land is two hundred ties to the acre and twelve ties to the tree. The size of n crosstic differs on different roads, but the usual size demanded is eight feet six inches long fend eight inches face. White or burr oak is considered the best timber for the purpose. although cherry, maple, ash and even locust have been used. The last named were first used on the Little Miami railroad, and after a time thrown aside as unfit for the purpose. Railroad men much prefer ties hewn J out with an axe to those sawed in a mill, and many contend th t the firstnamed will considerably out-last the sawed ties. This theory is probably a mistaken fallacy, a3 sawed ties have been placed alongside of hewn ties, and remained sound twice as long. This business gives employment to an army of choppers, who are paid ten cents apiece for each tie. A continued practice makes the choppers quite export in the use of the axe, and a slight man has been known to get out thirty-five ties in a day; yet the average is only ten, while an expert will probably get out twenty. During the war, when ties sold at from fifty to sixty-five cents, choppers were paid twelve and a half cents apiece. Although the contractor gets thirty-five cents apiece from the railroads for each tie, still there is a loss of from five to seven p< r cent, on dockage and stealage. An inspector is sent by the company to inspect the ties. This is generally a clerk from some of the offices, who frequently knows but little as regards the strength or durability of timber, and, in consequence, some of the best ties arc docked and only bring twenty cents apiece. The stealage is where the section men put. in new I ties which have not been inspected and receivea, ana mu to report, tne use 01 the same to the roadmaster. Most all crosstie men also contract for bridge timbers and trestlincr, as well as telegraph poles. For the latter chestnut and cedar are mostly used. They bring about $1.75 apiece, and are cut mostly in the Tamarak swamps of Michigan and the forests of Southern Kentucky and Tennessee. Large sums of money have been made by lucky contractors in the business above described, and each only adds to increased demands. Ohio has over 4,000.000 acres of wood-land, yet the ever increasing demand for railroad purposes alone, if supplied entirely from our forests, would leave us without a single stick to mark the existence of our once dense forests.?Cincinnati Commercial. Dynastic Trees in China. The Chinese are accustomed to associate the fortunes of their reigning families with the lives of trees, and each dynasty has a special tree dedicated to it. The duration of the dynasty is held to be indissolubly bound up with the existence of the tree, and inspection is frequently made of the latter in order to ascertain from its condition the prospect before the sovereign. The appearance of the tree is expected to furnish incontestable prooi of the true state of the empire. It is impossible to assign .in origin to thi3superstition, which is of great antiquity; biU, to go no further back than the fifteenth century, Yungloh, the third of the Ming rulers,' planted a fir tree, which endured until the overthrow 250 years afterward of his descendants by the Manchus. The story is told that Hwan-Tsung, the last Ming emperor, hung himself on this very tree, after having killed his wives and children, rather than submit to the victorious Manchu general, Taitsong. This tree, known as the wry-necked fir, was then chained up by the order of Chuntch, the first emperor of the existing imperial line, and although fallen to the ground, its remains with the chanaround tbem are still shown. As if in revenge for the unfortunate Mines, the popular fancy has evolved another superstition out of Chuntche's act, and it now causes as a current belief that if the chain were to be removed from the fallen trunk some terrible catastrophe ' would haDpen to the Manchus. The Tsing dynasty is also not without its own peculiar tree, which was f planted by Chuntche in the courtyard ! of a temple at Tan-chessu, near Pekin. i So long as this tree exists, so long, it is f asserted, will the Manchus remain sut preme; and there are those who con tend that the luture before the ruler ! may be divined from its condition. 3 The latest accounts are that this tree? f which is of the white-nut species, and I whicii has already attained the respect able age of two centuries and a quarter ? sh )ws most striking signs of renewed - vitality, and as this lnppens to coincide with the state of the Chinese empire, popular credulity is bein; so far con tirmed. .1 t An Indian Game. 1 When not on the warpath, or engaged in hunting. Western Indians spend much of their time in various games or contests of skill. Of these contests one o 3 the most popular is fly in c the arrow, a ,r sport to which the Indians of all tribes J nATinl/lnynKln t Jm O O YlH otfntt Q UCVVflU LUUOlUtlHUl^ V11UV KIIII4 MhKVM 9 tion. n When this game is proposed, each ol r those who wish to join in it lavs on the ir ground something of small value, such j. jl3 a pipe, quiver of arrows, a bow, i. spear, tobacco pouch, or knife, and ie when ali have been collected, the value a of the whole makes a prize well worth ie trying for. if Then bows are carefully examined, a d dozen of the best arrows in the quiver a selected, and the first of the competitors je steps out in front of the rest an^ prey, pares to shoot, not at a mark bul i? straight un into the air. His object is ir to have m many arrows in the air as re possible at the same time; and he whc ;r can send up the greatest number. be> r- fore the first touches the ground, win: ly ttie ?!\me ana an cue prizes. al But few of the most expert of the In nl dian bowmen have been known to pu ie more than ten arrows into the air a i- once, and to do even tiiis requires extra li, ordinary skill and strength. The ar jd rows, ten or twelve in number, arc he*< t;e in the hand that "rasps the now,and th< 2d rapidity with which each is iitted ti tii the string nnd sent upward is trul; at wonderful.?harper's Youny People. ig ol sal An Auburn (N Y J inventor has pni ies ented a car that runs on skates in?tea h- of wheels, and is especially intended to elevated railroads. It runs on groove rails, and, it is claimed, with less frii tion thaw that of the journals now 1 WW. Denr-Mutes. " IIow many deaf-mutes are there in tlic United States?'' inquired a Detroit reporter of a practical teacher of deafmutes. "There are 30,000 in this country. At Flint, Mich., where there is an educational establishment for them, there are 211. About one-half of these people are born with imperfect hearing, and in consequence can never learn the trick of speech. The other half have lost their spcech by diseases of infancy, more particularly scarlet fever. If they have ever learned to talk before losing the power of hearing, thev may retain an indistinct speech all their lives. With some, however, the vocal organs are paralyzed, and those ran never be taught lip-reading. The articulation must be unimpaired ior mis syau-Lu, wuimi brings every faculty into use." "I)o fleat mutes learn professions?" "Not as a general thing. There is an institution at Washington with a collegiate department, *nd a few go into postoftico or custom-house situations. There are three deaf-mute ministers, the first ever ordained in this work. They are the Rev. Henry W. Syle, of Philadelphia, the Rev. Austin W. Mann, who has charge of the itineracy of the v7 est and the Rev. Job Turner, who has the Southern diocesan interests. The deafmute usually prefers to become a me chanic or farmer. They make good citizens, but are naturally isolated in their lives." " Do they intermarry?" "Yes; they prefer to. As a common thing it is not considered a happy union for a deaf ninte to marry one in possession of the faculties of speech and hearing unless, as in my own case, they have been teachers and are in sympathy with them. A youne man will see a pretty deaf and dumb girl and learn the language readily enough, but when the novelty wears off he is apt to weary ol the constant demand of interpretation. He finds a want of companionship in his pursuits and pleasure, and the young wife is still worse off and more completely alone." "Are the children of deaf mutes also deaf and dnmbP" "There is no law ot progemture in this matter. Sometimes they are, but m oe frequently they are not. Children rare often born with this peculiar ity who are the first known cases in the families they belong to. It is a long time before parents will admit, even to themselves that their cherished darling is a diaf-mute, and they try every method to rouse its apparently dormant faculties when once assured that it really is set aside from its birth as one dedicated to a peculiar people. They at once make themselves familiar with the best systems of education that they may relievo by science and culture the monotony of a silent life." A further talk with this practical teacher revealed the fact that the deafmutes have no literature of their own beyond a few elementary text-books; that they can be taught everything that the speaking people can excepting vocal exercises; that they arc naturally quick, good-tempered and happy dispositioned and eager for instruction. They have developed artists and poets. Howard Glyndon, the poet-author of Hartford, is deaf, dumb and blind, a trinity of miafnrhinna rnrr>lv sppn. Her maiden name was Laura Reddin. She is now married to a gentleman who both hears, sees and speaks, and is now Mrs. Searing. Much has been written in the past about this remarkable and highly educated woman. The writer was once shown a silk dress which was exhibited with much satisfaction by its owner, a deaf and dumb lady, as the handiwork of Laura Reddin, who is regarded by the deaf-mutes as a living wonder. Care of Clothing, The care of clothing, to be easy, must be habitual. The hardest part is in forming the habit-, and this cannot too early in lite be formed. Most children love to make mud pies and pJay in the dirt generally, and give little heed to keeping themselves clean. Tfcis is all well enough at times, and they should be indulged in their mud pies provided they nre dressed lor tne work. But it is "poor lolksy" in the last degree to allow a child to play In the dirt with nice clothcs on, or to permit a young person to dress inappropriately while at work. It is vastly easier to change a good coat for a poor one than it is to restore in its prestine condition a soiled coat. It is vastly easier to put on a ^TT/irollc> ihnti ?( ia tn snnncp p;ui in uvciuno aw thoroughly a pair of pantaloons. But the worst of it is that those who neglect to change the ccat and put on the overalls neglect also the sponging and cleansing processes, and let dust gather and spots remain. A clothes brush, a wisp broom, a bottle of ammonia, a sponge, a hand brush, a cake of erasive soap," a vial of alcohol, should form part of the lurnishings of ever? toilet. After nil dust has oeen removed from clothing spots may be taken out of black cloth with the hand brush dipped in a mixture of equal parts of ammonia, alcohol and water. This will brighten as well as cleanse. Benzine is useful in removing grease spots. Spots of urease may be removed from colored silks by putting 011 them raw starch made into a paste with water. Dust is best removed from silk by a soft flannel, from velvet with a brush made specially for the purpose. If hats and bonnets when taken from the head are brushed and put away in boxes and covered up, instead of being laid down anywhere, they will last frosli a long tine. Shawls and all articles that may be folded should.be fold, d when taken from the person in their original creases and laid away. Cloaks should be hung up in place, gloves puiled out lengthwise, wrapped in tissue paper and laid awav, lace? smoothed out nicely and folded, ii requisite, so that they will come out o the box new and fresh when needec again. A strip of old broadcloth, foui or five inches wide, rolled up tightlj and sewed to keep the roll in place, ii better than a sponge or a cloth foi cleansing black and dark colored clothes Whatever lint comes from it in rubbing is black and does not show. Whci black clothes are washed, as they mu; often be previous to making over, fresl clean water should be used, and the; should be pressed on the wrong aid' before being quite dry. If washed ii water previously used for white cloth ing they will be covered with lint. Ii securing clothing against moths, if line] is used for wrappings no moth wil i molest. Paper bags are equally goo if they are perfectly tight, and so ar trunks and boxes closed so tightly tlia i no crevice is left open lor the entranc 1 of the moth <ly. As the moth love darkness, it will not molest even fur hung up in light rooms open to air an . sunshine. J Mcdiclues or trie Ancients* Some of the ancient cures were wors J than the alllictions which they were d( i signed to relieve. Fancy for instanc , tlie following, recommended as wel . tested antidotes for poisons: The hoc 3 ot an ox cut into parings and boile with bruised mustard-seed in whit . wire and pure water. The blood of t duck, drunk fresh and warm, or eh t, dried to powder, and so drunk in . draught of white wine. The blood ol . stag also. If the case was a desperal -I one you were to take a sound liors e open his stomach alive, take out all h 3 entrails quickly, and put the poison< n person naked into it, all save his hea while the body of the horse retains i n.11iivo 1 linnf finri then let llim SWl' well td Papered -.vails are cleaned by beii r wiped down with a flannel cloth ti id over a broom ?r brush. Then out ofl c- thick pieco of etnle bread with the crt In on and rub them down with thla. B gin atthQ top M2d go ?tt*ight down. Common Sense in Advertising i A model advertisement i3 designed , satisfy the rational demand of a pre able customer to know what you 1m got to sell. The successful advertis ; therefore, observes three rules: Fit . he aims to furnish the informati ^hich the public wants; second heai: s to reach that part of the public wh< wants he is prepared to satisly; a ' third he endeavors to make his inforn tion as easy of acquisition by the pub as possible. Many mistakes of judgment have b mide in the various ways adopted reducing the labor of the public in gai ing this kind of trade information. M have plastered fences with their a nouncements; they have erected ftu bill boards and covered thtm with p cards; they have stuck painted signs horse cars and along either side of t slips of the ferries; they have even ( faced the most picturesque aspects nature with their glittering assertioi and thus, instead of winning and gai ing the attention, have awakened abiding disgust and resentment. T fallacy which underlies all these effoi to catch the public on the wing, so apeak, to delude men and women in an unexpected and irresistible desire buy the something which you have sell, is that rational beings do not i about shopping or buying in that wi Who would think of goine to the hoi cars to find out where any particul article which might be needed could bought? Who would think of maki: a trip to the While mountains, or i the Hudson, or along the Sound, or Watkins' glen, or to Niagara falls, foi similar purpose. The commonest and handiest thing the American family is the newspapf and as nearly all shopping procee from the family, from its needs, its i telligence, its tastes, its fashions, it fc lows that the thoughtful and successf advertiser apuroaches the family by tL means. He docs not waste his mon and his time in loadine his advertisij gun and shooting it off skyward in tl streets, at all creation, on the chan that some willing customer may be g ing that way, and they may be broug down; on the contrary he takes accou of the advertising ammunition which 1 has on hand, ana loads and points b gun through the columns of some repu able newspaper at the game he wants hit. Besides knowing that the newspape are the best means of advertising, an how to pick out tlie best newspapers fi his purpose, the successful advertis fully appreciates the importance of pe sistent advertising. Mr. Bryant us< to say that the great influence of tl press depends for one thing upon i power of iteration. Pre?entinz the snn ??- -x. - r?? ?*?;< sunjecs m lunuy luims, ib nuaiij m. attention and acquiescence. Used in tb thorough and systematic way, the a vertising columns of the newspapers a useful and essential to the merchant, means of telling the public what he h to sell, as the clerks behind the counte are to show his goods when the peop come to examine them.?New Yc Evening Post. Life Among the New York Tenement The interval between the close working hours and nightfall afford t best opportunity for learning som tiling of'the crowded condition of t tenement district. Beginning short after six o'clock, an apparently endle procession-of laboring men-artd-worn and children is moving along the sid walk on either side of every stre< Making due allowance for those wl are hastening toward the East riv femes, it is almost impossible to b lieve that nearly all of these per o find room in which to sleep and ta! their meals without going farther th: they can walk, going to their work ai returning; but within an hour this floi of humanity has subsided, and the nur her of riersons on the sidewalks is i ereater than at other hours of the da The vast number have found shelter rooms opening from the dark balls th lead up through four and five stories the great tenements. Then the wi dows, row upon row, begin to lighted up, ana tenement house life shown in another asDect. A fair id of the ."warms of persons housed in tl district may be gained by waiki through the streets, then entering o of the rear houses and going to the re* from which countless rear windows m be seen lighted, and remembering that] each light there is a household. Fn such a point of view the observer loo down upon an apparently boundl( pile of biicks, hollow within, and hi) from cellar to root with humanity; a the wonder grows upon him that t vitiated air rising from the nostrils so many breathers does not befoul 1 fn tll<1 rprv f'lnuds. SO tl aitiiiuopiiuiw bv U4iv , j , _ birds attempting to fly across shall' 1 suffocated, as they are sa:d to fall ii the sulphurpus craters of slumberi volcanoes. That so many persons sle tier upon tier, through the night, a have strength to make their way < when morning comes, seems almost 1 a peroetual contradiction of the n calculations as to the amour t of air quired to sustain life in a person fo: given period1!?New York Sun. How Time Passes in Paris. You may talk about the marvels pneumatic clocks, the convenience monster omnibuses, the rapidity communication between one quarto P aris and another, but it is no use t 1 ing to show that the Parisians have 1 time to spare, and that they are ne in a hurry. They have so much ti that they don't know what to do w ' it. They waste their time like a cl j, wastes his gayety, or a rich man | gold. _ They squander it looking at -* ?" nr> ?,< Hip wnl.Prs flow J SUtlO III 11C?V?U) ui tuv ? ' under a bridge. Did ever any one c r culate the time spent by th? Paris ? in reading handbills and poste 3 When a dog barks at a cat, when t r sparrows make love to each other c roof, when the canary lias escaped i ? the street, at once a crowd assemb 1 ninety-nine per cent, of which does f know what it is ail about- The n I riage of a corner grocer with the dau J ter of the cheeee-mongcr almost exc e a riot; the passage of a coach-and-f II causes grand excitement; the Parisi - will stand lor hours with their fee a the mud to sec a procession which ^ d not pass until the next day, if it j U that way at all. The Parisians d children who amuse themselves e playing at business like school! who play at war. The only difl'en e is that they have taken their am 3 rnent au serieux. If pneumatic clt ? did not exist, and if the day were ( d four hours long, you may be sure ' they would find time to play domii and hang around the church dno catch a glimpse o( the brido.?rarii :e ? TI,?on itrh/i iloah'fi tn rpmn'lfll tlipir C XUUOV n uv/ v.vu.?v 1- year's dresses cannot do better than >f trim tbem with either red or or: d Surah, which brightens up- dark ;c tumes effectively, and on fabrics of 1 a quality it is fast replacing satin, ju: je figured foulards are replacing hi a brocades on summer dresses. The a twilled silk of bright hue looks stj te between the plaits of oat k woolen s e, lyirt also as wide bands alternating ' is box plaits. d rt, ts t 'The new fashion for finishing the of basques is to divide them belov waists into two, four or five spaces each hang straight and separate, i 3g the end in gathers and adii a tass ed each point. Sometime! a ball of j i a put on the points of grenadine oi tefc dresses instead of a tassel. If the l?- hoBafuliehirredbacktneseoDenbrv dUipliy it prettily. L'orositieg of Smuggling. . to A young women of seventeen, wh< )b- trunks had been examined and w< ive found apparently all right, had a pill< er, covored with ticking ana tufted at t st, ends. It was a very innocent looki on article; and when it was opened agaii ms her protestations it was found to cc 3se tain about forty yards of dress sil nd Another instance was that of a you] 3a- woman who had a piece of line clo lie with the edge ingeniously bound such a way a3 to give it the appearan ;en of a bedspread or blanket. A fashioi of able dressmaker uptown for a considf in- able Lime managed to elude the vis en lance of the custorils officers by bria tn- ing in a part of her importations of tl ige various articles that go to make i la- women's wardrobe by scattering the in among the trunks of her friends, t he whom they were alleged tobepriva ie- property, and as such duty free. SI of came to grief finally, and among tl [is, articles seized was the wedding trou in- seau of a fashionable belle. A favori an dodge is to mix up new and old article he of wearing apparel; this is very apt I its succeed nnless thenumberis sufficienti to large to arouse suspicion. ito a fashionable tailor, who impor to large quantities of goods each year, ha to his invoice made out correctly, but 1 set hid an arrangements by which tl <-y- goods, instead of being sent to the cu se tom-house for appraisal, were sei ar directly to his store. This was final! be discovered, the goods were seized an Qg the offender was mulcted in a conside up able amount. to For many years the smuggling < a cigars into this port by the crews of tl Havana steamers was a regular bU3 in ness. Millions were brought in eac =r, year. Generally they were concealed b ds hind the steamer in a package beir n- fastened by means of a cross-piece < >i- wood. If tuere was danger or aetecuc ul the fastening was cut andthepackaf lis allowed to dropdown to the bottom < ey the bilge. These smuggled cigars ai ig done up in packages of 1,000 or mor lie covered with oilskin. Often thej Dackages arc dropped overboard in tb o- lower bay or at quarantine and ai ht picked up by confederates in small boat nt brought up to the city and disposed o In other cases they are kept on sbi] is board, concealed in places where no or it- wouid be apt to look for them, and cai to ried ashore in small quantities as oj portunity afforded. Experience ht r3 taught the customs inspectors where t id look for contraband articles of this kin< and not a week passes that seizures < e smuggled cigars are not made. A shoi r- time ago 15,000 cigars were found i Jd one of the bread-tubs ot a Havan }e steamer, where they had been place it by the cook and covered with dougl They have been found under the boi ns ers, hidden away under masses of cos '13 in me coai-oun&era, nuu w?acu **? d" a buiky cargo. A small shed or woode re bin was found in a coal-bunker not Ion as ago, and in this were 10,000 cigar 83 packed in a small compass. If tc *"s closely watched by the inspectors, tt ' ? crew will take back the cigars and tat rk their chances of smuggling them ashoi on a subsequent voyage. Bay oi which pays a duty of htty cents pi ounce, is also a, favorite article ft 8* smuggling. The duty is almost pr 0f hibitory, and )f even a small amoui can be brought in undetected it pa? ie handsomely. It i3 put up in twent tie twn ?unce bottles, and these can 1 ,ly handily stowed away and taken asho >S3 one at a time. en &Q$.Qopfcied to this ei e_ of the route, however. The Spanii jt. authorities impose a duty of thirt \q eight per cent, on opium, and the meai er adopted to evade the customs office -* TT-?--- iwvAnisxna Smt |0? lib nu.vu.112t QIC YCljr lUguuivuu? miui ng quantities in tin boxes are packed ke tubs and barrels of butter. Cans in opium are packed in large rolls of wa paper which is duty free. They are hi acj t en in barrels of potatoes, and in oth n. articles where they are likely to esca Q0 detect.''n.?New York Tribune. y- ? in ^ The Fate or the Jeannette. n. Grave apprehensions for the safety be the Jeannette exist in official circles jg well as among those wbo from e ea perience are qualified to speak und< standingly of the dangers with which n? winter's sojourn in the Arctic is e ne tended. A Federal officer, who is in ir position to be well informed on t ay subject, asserts with an alarming po [or tiveness that the Jeannette will nev )m come back. He says that the unfurt ,]j3 nate vessel was last seen steeringdircct n?g for a vast field, and by whalers wl cd deemed their only chance for safety nd be in moving as -rapidly as possible Ije an opposite direction. The ice-fic 0f was at that time offWrangel land a ;he directly in the path of a current whi Jnt in winter flows northward, and if t \vi] Jeannette is frozen in as reported, a ito would inevitably be carried northwa jng and out of reach of all succor by t ePi fatal current. Capt. Douglass, a govei lD(j ment coast pilot, indulges the hope th )Ut the ice-held which inclosed the Jeanne ikC has probably grounded on the east sh< ioe of Alaska, in which case the crew m re_ be able to reach the shore, if not too d r a tant, but that the vessel would inevil bly be ground to pieces when the fi< breaks up Where this occurs the hu blocks of ioe are forced upward a over a vessel, completely covering a crushing her by the tremendt of pressure, not leaving a place lai of enough to identify her by. The ice v of begin to break up about the latter p rof of July next. ry- The Thomas Corwln, which has sai ! no to the Jeannette's assistance, will ret ver the ice regions a month before that tii me Should the imperiled vessel be discith ered the relief ship will work towi 11 Id her as the field breaks up and endea his to save the crew if they have not s the ceeded in gaining the shore. This m ing euver will be accompanied by cons :ai- erable danger. Should the crew esc: ian and find shelter among the Esquima' rsP the Corwin will cruise along the she wo making inquiries among the natn >n a who are constantly moving from pi r.to to place, and will in time discover ...iw?.o.,i,At,ta nf tlifhnldexDlorers. w ?r3) W iicicauuuM v* ?**v - -? ( no it is most earnestly hooed, will esc; lar- from their perilous position.- San Fr gli- cisco Bulletin. ites our "?l ["q Largest Hotel iu the World. -vill The new rezime of hotel keepers Rockaway beach are evidently c ?ve vinced that it is the magnitude if hy the magnificence of their enterpri ioys which is to attract the crowds from :nce metropolis. Certainly the chief en us<?- prises there?the mammoth hotel )cks the iron pier?are on a scale unpr >nly dented in this country, and it foil* that almostnaturally.at least in regard to< loes in the world. The Windsor of this r. to might be conveniently stowed :iwa; ian tlif wings of the Rockaway hotel. 15 the hotels at Manhattan beach do present as large a front to the oceai last their new rival across the inlet. . three of the Ix>ng Branch hotels and mire two of those at Saratoga would notsl CqS. so extended and handsome a front. visitor at one end will find it a si >t~as journey to call on his friend* at KlVy other. Laid down in New York cit soft would extend from Filth avenue ne iish to Seventh, Mid fronting the avent kii-u would occupy just six tfhies tlie lei with the Hotel Brunswick. With t several dining-rooms, each larger 1 nine-tentlis of our city hofeis are. 1.2U0 bedrooms, it will probably be to accommodate all the guests who back demand admission. The iron f the nearly in its front, designed to en >, let s'.eamers to avoid the shoals of the --- ..1. x* f lin tiwiisiuntiy 4il)Pi ULUU 1111111^ lllivt mm .iiv i..UUvv?.. el at Barn n island (th? refuse heap of et is metropolis and Brooklyn), is 1.2(H) r silk lon<4 and thirty wide. The lai skirt steamers can approach it with < Braall ones having recently touch* hcnvy c?w.--\Nki? l\>rk IWfomo, - Gentle Hninanllies. )Se Shoo the horse and ehoo the niare; ?re Never let the hoof ?0 bare; ^ ^2 , . -j. , 'VyiB jie Trotting over flinty stones ng Wears awaj the hardest bones. 1S' Life Jias many a stony street Even to the toughest leet; 4 3~ Men, the sturdiest, fled it so th Ere through half ol life they go. in Streaks of blood are in the way, ce Q. Trod by humans every day; ij>. Seen by love's annointed eye While the blinded world goes by; % Yea, if all the sighs were caught, [f Wherewithal ihe air is fraught; m What a gale would swoep the skies >y Laden with man's miseries! te " /. 1 ie Gently then, oh brother man! ie Do the utmost good ycu can: . 8" God approveth e'en the least Deed of truth to man or beast. ^ ? Thomas MacKtllir. . - - * % [y ' " ./-'4 -> ts , .*a; v? ri ITPWS #11? INTEREST. " le *" 16 ?? f g. Chestnuts make good flour. it Detroit has 773 licensed newsboys. 'y The sultan of Turkey lives surrounded j ? by 5,000 soldiers. r" An exchange alludes to the bicycle as " * ^ the circamlocutory beast. ' * 1() What the daily newspaper is to man, i. a friend's visit is to woman. :h Twenty Provincetown (Mass.) vessels ? j e- will hunt whales this season, ? ' * A ton of silver, at the standard rate 31 rtf #1 OQ Oft ia wnrfrh <537 f%7. 'g Seth Green advises larmers to go into frog-ponds. Millions in them! re The shores of Lake Mira, Wis., are * 6t fringed with dead buffalo tish. je Burlington, Iowa, has a horse that le lifts a baie of hay with his teeth. *e Talk well of the town you Jive in or s. the town will not talk well of you. There are about $3,500,000,000 worth ^ of silver in circulation in the world. r. A lady writer thinks every country town should have a cooking school. is Fly time?W h en you hear h er father's o heavy cane thumping along the hall. J. The Harvard college boys consume f 110 gallons ol soup every day at dinner.* rt England has nearly 20,000 gypsies, ' * n and most of them cannot read or write, i, *1 ? Red Surah silk is the favorite material . v a for illuminating dark or sober, tinted . j ] costumes. * f J Was the novel "The Seamy Side" * . # .5 Ij suggested by a "stitch in thesideE" It / q would seam sew. ig Edison is building a factory at Menlo V ' 8, Park for the manufacture of electric^ ,........ >o lamps m large quantities. ie Freckles are not so bad. It is said t ' , :?? that one girl does not object to seeing re them on another girl's face.?Picayune, Sal Soda was sent to the workhouse "r yesterday for telling a lie to tbe officer >r and trying to soft soap the judge after- * ^ ward.?Cincinnati Star. Vv ?s The British peerage originally fcOn- / ' y sisted of earls and barofis: the first dake be was created by Edward IIL, the first re marquis by Richard II., and the first viscount by Henry VI. id Of.the 37,553 miners employed in the ih gold mines' of th?"Wtcifiy of Yiotorlk r ' - . y- Australia, during the last quarter Wthe ' :?ja| as year 1876,28.443 were Europeans, ami , : rs 9,110 were Chinese. 1 ' |;I1 Coroner Ellinger, of New York Says ..." ta about suicides in hot weather: Thelarg-', of estnumber of the suicides at this season ; U* among men are the results of excessive d- drinking, Men drink until their nerv- . er ous systems are shattered and their ? ? - j -!>v -1?1._1 ooaies soaseu wnu iviwuuj, iu?r ctu effects of which are most keenly felt when the increased temperature de- ?,**' velops their internaL fires, and then, in ' moments of desperate disgust With life, they seek death. Another thing impeli- * ot ing many suicides is that foreigners who ;.:V M come here have never become ao accli- 'y ' x' matized until they are here a great many er; years that in case of misfortune they do . . " 1 a not feel, keenly, mentally and in their x~ nervous organizations climatic infia- ? V a ences. Thus, when they find ihemselva- * He cut off from that consolation which they . 81* would have at home among their,er friends, and which would strengthen'JVI:'*' y* them there, desperation stares theoi .in " ,'y the face, and they seek escape in suioide. b0 Another thing which is a great cause of J0 suicide at all seasons now-is tne aecime "vsawy V* of religious faith. Where people center !1~ their entire hopes in their worldly successes, lack faith in a future life, and have lost their consciousness of a con- *'? [*e nection with a world tnat had no begin- . n? nine and can have no end, they have nothing to sustain them when mieforde tune assails them, the petty thwartings -11" and grievances of mundane allairs as sume an ovc weening importance in *? tte their eyes, and they are prone to plunge )re heedlessly into the shadows of the dread ?y unsnown. ' '^'1 ;a- = jld The ^rgentine Bepnbllc. ^ v nd The Argentine Republic, in which nd civil war is reported to have broken >us out, is a confederation of the Rio de la rge Plata, fourteen states or provinces con- . rill taining a popuiation in 1870 of about art 1,800,000. Its area is some 543,000 1 *' K.?fnroA*i square miles, ana it is siiumcu u?n^u led Boliviaon the north and Patagonia on ich the south, the latter country being ce. claimed as a part of its possessions, ov- There are in the Repuolie about 200,000 lrd foreigners?American, Italians, Span-ror iards, French, English, Swiss and Geruc* mans. Except the Andes, in the west, an- and other mountainous ranges in the lid- northwest, the whole region is comipe posed of vast plains, covered alternately ax, with rich pasturage and huge thistles. >re. The climate is both temperate and res, tropical. As agriculture is very backace ward, less than 1.1000 of the soil being the under cultivation, rearing live stock is ho the chief employment of the people. s.pt Millions of cattle graze on the plains, an- along with great herds of mules and horses. Mines of rock-alt, which plenti l! - urp OI fully incrusi me Uiuau ivtviw| ~ much benefit to the roaming beast. The name, River of Silver, is a misnomer, though silver, with gold, copper, suli at phur and coal, is found to a moderate . ion- extent near the Andes. Very little not 1 ining has yet been done, and the prinise, cipal export trade, which is increasing, the ii in wool and hides. Juan Diaz aa ler- Solis, while searching tor a passage into , and the great South sea (1515), entered the ece- Rio de la Plata, and eleven years after ows Sebastian Cubot penetrated nearly to ane, the conllux of the Parana and Paraguay. city Buenos Ayres has virtually monopolized 7 in that region, as large .'is the wnole of ioth Western Europe. After various fornot tunes of war. a gei icral congress declared ti as the independence of the united provinces Any fitio de la Plata; but, some years later, any they were again isolated and once moie how confederated. The Argentine Republic, A however, was mainly an anarchy until uall 1835. when General Rosas was chosen the captain-general and invested with aly, it most absolute power. He established arly I quiet and order for a while; but his dele it j termination to secure the supremacy of lgth ! Buenos Ayrts led to his overthrow. hree | There have since been various uniors han | and disunions <>t the provinces and wars t !in(| there is nun wttn nuiuuuunug T ? able no preset* t piospivt of permanent peace, will seeminsly incompatible with the South pier American repul ses. Tl.e mtire inUabl#* rior has a standing quarrel with Chili, fast | which shuts it away f .<m the ocean. Is of The country lias also any number of inthe ward dissensions and i*M> likely to have /eet tlieni that civil war may be reckoned as gest a natural condition, winch cannot long be Int 'rript *d until the character of the ^ lieicro^enionH population ling totally altered.