University of South Carolina Libraries
r " '' ' ;':1 ABBEVILLE PRESS & BANNER! BY HUGH WILSON AND H. T. WARDLAW. ABBEVILLE, S. C., WEDNESDAY, MARCH 9. 1881. NO. 40. VOLUME XXV. * The Two Apes. Folk.* wer? happy as days wore long Iu the ol.l Arcadian times; When life seemed <>' i v a dance tiii<i ;i aoai: In the sweet-st of all sweet eihue-, Our world grows nigger. and, ntage l>y stage. As the pitiless years have rolle.!. We've quit- forgotten the golden age. And come to tin- R','e of gold. Time went away in a sheepish way l"tw)Ti TlifHsnlv'* :il:iins nf vnnv In the nineteenth century laml>s at play Moan mutton, mi l nothing more. Our swans at pre-<ent are far too sago To live c-i (>>: hvifcl of old: So thcv i'fi;:j.]e tlie er< of the golden ago With the !?>" -. in ill- age of gold. From Cory.Ion's r< ed the mountains round Hear news of his Latest llame; And Titvr.js made the woods resound With echoes of Daphne's name. They kindly left 11s a lasting gauge, Of their musical li^art we are told; And the Pandean pipe of the golden age. Brings mirth to the age of gold. Dwellers in huts and in marhle halls? From the shepherdess up to the queen Cared little for bonnets and Icj? for shawls. And no.hing for crinoline. Bnt how sinij'lioify'* not the rage, And it's funny to think how cold The dross they wore in the golden age Would seeni in the aire of gold. Electric telegraphs, printing, gas. Tobacco, balloon* ami steam, Are little event* that have come to pass Since the days of the old regime; And in spite of Lempriero's dazzling page, I'd give?though it might seem bold? A hundred years of the golden age For a year of the age of gold. MY WEDDING TOUR. I whs only seventeen when Charlie mameu me, aim i wrote mysen iur uie first time Mrs. Charles Vail, Jr., anil saw the initials of the same emblazoned on ' the end of my new Saratoga trunk, when we started on our wedding journey. My ' wedding journey! I can speak of it calmly now, hut the time was when it harrowed up my inmost soul. To this ' day Cliailie becomes wroth when it is , mentioned, and says it is my "blamed imagination;" but he knows, and I know well, that that is only one of those con-: venient little loopholes through which big masculinity can crawl on emergency; and the facts remaining unchanged and indisputable. I shall defy Charlie and ' llw?li? fii tin* Wfivlil. Imagine then, reader or listener, whoever you may be, that the last .silken , train has swept itself out of Trinity , chapel, and the last note of the inevit able "Wedding March" shuddered itself out of the big groaning organ, and that Charlie and I are married. Also, j that the kissing and eiying over is achieved, and the voices of my husband's sisters and my maiden aunts, hailing down blessings on our heads, are happily lost in distance?that the only sound we hear is the rattle and roar of i nn express train thundering eastward, j and 1 am looking out into the golden noonday, watching the fields and roads and villages and woodlands race past us, and sweep back into a stream like ! running water. There we sat, two i blissful voting fools?but it isn't of our bliss or our foolishness either, that I am going to tell you?only of the sin-! gular adventure of our wedding tour. Charlie hadn't told me where we were i to go, ami I rather liked being left in ig- ; uoranee, knowing no more than that we j were being swept away to some little J paradise of our own?it might be to an island of the Hesperides or Crusoe's i kingdom or Eden itself. We stopped : at a good many s'ations by the way that looked anything but paradaisical; but I i saw even-thing through a glass, rosily, | as I sat there demure and mute, by Char-, lie's side. The shadows were growing i short, and it was just noon when we j chmn-wl of enmn \nlln " /*! nflinv U'ltASA J,, v....-., .M.V.1V | long, low, straggling buildings, crowd-: ing close upon the track, and the broad, dusty village street, branching oil' at ; right angles, are photographed upon my memory. Not for anything intrinsically remarkable; there were only a good many teams and farm-wagons, and oi>en carriages, and light carryalls standing about, with the lazy horses rubbing their noses against old wormeaten ]>osts, under the row of drooping green trees, and plenty of people on the platform, crowding together for greetings and good-byes; it was a commonplace everyday picture enough, and not even ti pretty one, except in fragments. There was a general exodus from the car, and n rush dinnerward, as we supposed, toward the swinging sign of Romp "Houko" or ntlir>r ilmvn flip l.izv little country street; and Charlie, looking at his watch, said it was twelve ' o'clock?and didn't I want some lunch? (f? course I didn't, but of course he said i must have it, and immediately started lp. He wouldn't be five minutes, he said, and I mustn't move till he came back. I was to guard our two seats, and let no one come nigh them, and, above all, I was to sit still, and not be led astray by any possible warnings to change cars. " We're going through," Charlie remarked, " so just keep the j seats, and don't pay any attention." I nodded obedience, and Mr. Vail marched out of the car, leaving 1110 to peer j after him in the crowd and catch the la-<t gjunpse 01 ins straw nai vamsniug down the street. I watched the crowd, when Charlie was out of sight, and mused anil wondered over the faces, and built up all sorts of dreamy speculations upon them, as one does in a crowd when they have nothing better to think of. Presently the door banged open, and the voice of some unseen functionary shouted, " Change cars for Bos?ton !" K very body began to scramble their bags and bundles and canes together, and there was a rush among the few who remained my fellow-passengers. I watched them go without emotion, and merely settled myself more comfortablv for the solitary journey through whicL Charlie had indicated?wondering a little where its terminus might be, but in no wise disturbed or anxious thereat. I stared out at the people for five minutes longer?at least so said the fat-faced clock in the " ladies' room " opposite my window, though I made it fifty at lea-it by mental calculation?and then the door swung open again. This time a head projected itself into the car, roared "All out!"?evidently at mo-and vanished again. "I won't get out," I replied, defying the empty air. "Charlie, told meto pit still, and I'm going to. Oh _ Charlie! why in the world don't you come back!" Jlut no Charlie came to answer me, and I began to stare out in the crowd with rather more anxious eyes, and to grow a little hot and uneasy, and to think, with certain unpleasant thrills running down my back, what would become of me if the train should start and Charlie shouldn't come back at all! At this awful point in my meditations the locomotive gave vent to an unearthly ncivoch, which I took for a premonitory svniptom of departure, and I was so terrified that I started up from my seat ji!*: as the little door swung back for the I i third time, to admit of a last warning, like that of Friar Bacon's brazen head. This time the face reappeared on a big, shaggy suit of clothes some six feet high, and was a grim. n<>t to say irate, \ isage. " Change ears, miss ! " said the person gruffly. 'I told you so twice before!" ' T'?rtr> sit still " T ronlietl inewklv. "I'm going through." 1 thought this was tho right thing to say, because Charlie had said it; but it didn't have have the right effect. " Change ears then?there's the Boston train over there. This oar runs back to New York." 1 simply stared at the person, in a dogged war that ho seemed to take verv ill. 'Come !" he exclaimed, waxing impatient. " You can't sit here all day, you know. "Where do you want to go V" "I?I?don't know," I stammered, "I was told to sit still, audi?I must wait till the jierson comes back," The man stared back at me now with iv/vnv ?" Sfliil lie, extending a dirty hand. " I haven't got it," I answered in a meek and conciliating tone. "My? Char?at least, the gentleman who is with me has got them both." " The gentleman ! Pretty fellow he must be ! Told you to sit still, did he ?" I made no reply to this unwarrantable lack of respect in referring to my absent lord, but drew myself up and looked severely out of the window. " Well, you can't go back to New York," observed my tormentor, summarily. " The best thing for you to do is to get out and look for your gentleman, miss." Saying which, he jerked mv liAfT (Invrri frrvm tlip mek. turned the opposite seat, which Charlie had inverted, back into its place and, by a species of moral suasion, caused me to pick up my shawls, parasols, etc., and follow him in abject submission to the door. " Now where did the gentleman go?" he demanded, as he handed me out on the platform. " He went in to got me some lunch," I replied, almost ready, at this crisis, to disgrace my bridehood and cry. 44 And told you to sit still, did he ? Well, you stand right here and keep a lookout for him. There's the Boston train over there, goes in fifteen minutes, and he can't get into it without you seeing him, if he ain't inside already; and my advice is, stick fast to him if you find him, for he must need looking after!" With which remarkable words the man set down my bag, and winked at a bystander. 44 What's the row ?" inquired the person thus invited to participate in the enjoyment of my woes. Then they whispered?about me, I suppose?and everybody stood and stared at me. l'oor little bride! There I stood,holding fust my parasol, with a shawl on one arm,my own"small sacnei on incomer, and Charlie's bigger one at my l'eet,feeling like a very "lone lorneritter" indeed. There stood three men in a knot, contemplating me, and any quantity of the same species coming and going, who all looked at me as they passed, and then turned round and stared again?and there was no Charlie visible in all the range of surrounding country. Dire thoughts began to bo born within me, and to turn me cold and damp with extreme terror; the nightmare of my infancy?"being lost"?came back upon me, and crushed my seventeen ?i ,l luiu iiic; u?" v> ui Charles Vail, Jr., with a fell swoop. What was to become of me? Supposing there had been an accident, and Charlie knocked down arid awfully mangled, or that he had just vanished awav, as onu occasionally hears of.'respectable gentlemen having done, ami never would apj>ear again, or be heard of at all; supposing I were just to stand there waiting, the trains shrieking away in the distance, and night coming on, and all these strange men staring and whispering? Pretty soon I should begin to crv, for I couldn't stand it much longer; and hero I began to feel fur my pocket-handkerchief, and that reminded me of my pocketbook as a slight resource. I dived to the utmost corner of my pocket before I remembered that I had confided it to Charlie, with wifely duty, at the very outset of our wedding trip. At this alarming discovery a cold moisture broke out upon my entire frame. A night passed under the lee of the depot, crouched among my little possessions, now loomed before me?unless I could deposit the same possessions or pawn my diamond ring and my gold brace lots for a night's lodging and a ticket back to New York. I suppose the horror depicted on my countenance was a sufficient challenge for inquiry. I don't know what an extreme it must have reached, but somebody appeared to find it moving, for a benevolent voice presently saluted my ears: "Are you waiting for anybody, miss?" I turned around with a gasp of alarm, which subsided a little, however, when I met an elderly face, spectacled, and benign in the extreme. " Excuse me, miss," said the old gentleman, in a sympathizing tone, " are you waiting for any one ?" " I?I?yes, sir?I'm waiting for?" I came to a dead stop. For Charlie, should I say? "My husband" was a step beyond utterance just now. I only turned scarlet, choked, and twisted the handle of my bag in silence. " Is there anything I can do for you ?" " I?don't know?whero to go !" I burst out quite involuntarily. " They told me to change cars, and 1 didn't expect to, and I don't know what to do." My new friend looked bewildered, and came a step nearer, as he inquired, , iu a solemnly lowered voice: " Are you alone V" " No, no, I said very quickly under my breatli. *" Who is with you V" said he, with a kind of confidential compassion that a little com usea ine. i uiu not, understand it. ! " My???a ?gentleman," I faltered i out. " He went out to get me some1 thing, and he told me to sit still and : not move; and a man came and made me change cars?and I don't know what i cars we were to take?and?and?I?I I don't see him anywhere." Here I choked and fell to biting my ! lips and winking mv two eyes hard, to ' wink the tears down. " A gentleman !" repeated my friend, suddenly. By this time two more men had drawn near to listen. "Your j father?" I "No." " Brother, then ?" very mysteriously, j "N-no." i I began to get very red and uncom! fortable, and to wish that they wouldn't i stare so. ""Where are you going, my dear?" asked the first Samaritan, after a solemn pause of some minutes. " I don't know," I answered faintly. | " He didn't teil me; he just said, when he went to get me some lunch, that I j wasn't to move if the man said to changc cars, for we were going through; and ] told the man so, but he made me change." " That train's a-going back to Ne\* York," said one of the last arrivals, grin ning. " Ooin^ through to Boston. wa? you ?" "i " I dou't know wliere I was going," I answered, very shortly. " Let ine see your ticket," said the old gentleman, feelingly. He had a compassionate way of look- . ; ing at me over his spectacle?; and he hi looked queerer still when I answered i faintly?"He's got it?and?my money te ?and?oh, why don't he come!" Here I cast loose all ceremony, and hi burst into tears. "Oil, don't cry now," said the ol?l, se gentleman, soothingly. " Don't know ! It'll be all right?vou'll be taken care : . ~e An, ..! ,i. i n.bv did lie go V?which way V" "I don't know," I sobbed from be- tl< j hind ioy handkerchief. "Went to get some lunch, did ho j si? say? Well, now, can't you tell me what sort'of a looking person he was, and j oll perhaps we can find him ? Was he vonng , oroia?" . ce "\oung," I murmured, still behind a ! barrier of cambric. W-with a yellow, mustache, and tr-gray clothes, and a j straw hat. "Pretty bad business!" one of the j ho men muttered aside to another. " Sharp j i fellow!" responded ft second. And then j or there were some antistropliesof " What's ! the matter?" "It's a shame!" "Left;, her, did he?" from a small crowd that 1 ' ' had bv this time started up around me. i " Well, now, just come in here and j tlii sit down," said my old gentleman, pater- tin nallv gathering up my bag; "and compose yourself, my dear, and we'll see ; no what can be done. Don't cry, it'll only 1 us flurry you, and won't do any good, you | ' know. There, that's right!" For I (|0 wiped my eves with the remnant of a ; tol sob, pulied my veil down, and was 1 turning to follow him, when, behold! 1 ? as I swept the landscape o'er with one i last look of desperation, there appeared j , Charlie?gray clothes, and straw hat, ' and yellow mustache, and all, coming 1 from the dim distance, with a brown paper parcel under each arm. " There he is !" I shrieked, dropping ' na bag and parasol in my ecstasy, and rush- j ^VG ing down the platform with extended J arms. " There he is ! Oil, call him, : Je somebody?tell him I'm here ! Make j gr : him lnnlr this wnv!" " Where ? which? where is he?" cried j ' half ft dozen men, quite excitedly. " Him in the struw hat, with the bun-; dies ? Halloa, sir! Halloa ! Stop him !" j ?0 and three small boys and one man i ? I started in pursuit. Poor Charlie ! There he came, hurry ing along in our direction, rather swiftly j , it is true, when my four companions ] j"1 gave chase. And just as they uplifted j *ie : their voices, and just as Charlie's eyes, i . sweeping the surrounding scene ap-1c peared to light \ipoii them?just theu did the locomotive behind which J1? we liad been sitting fifteen minj utes before, and which had or | been backing and snorting, and ?* | advancing and backing again, after , Pf the manner of trains, choose its time I . to set up a shriek and a violent mi , ringing of the bell, and to go puffing off! ?* on its wav back to New York. And i ei( Charlie first stared wild, and then turned ; and chased the locomotive; and the I three small boys and the man chased i him, rending the air with shouts of j | " Stop him!" ; J'1! ; But Charlie couldn't keep up with the i toJ train very long, and the impotencv of' P? ' his efforts seemed to break upon him ! suddenly, after he had run himself very hot and damp, and shed all the hot buns ? from his brown paper parcel for twenty . yards along the track. He turned and in faced his pursuers like a man at bay, and ?r' figuratively speaking, they all fell upon | him. en j " Stop there ! where are you going ? on i back after vonr lsidv. von seamn ! ; Ain't you ashamed of yourself ?" ! *ei j shouted the small boy, in ecstaev. ! ; "Wanted to run away, did you? Didn't j 1 do it that time, old fellow !" " What the deuce do you want ?" said j W1 Charley, fiercely. " Where's Sarah ? j j , Where's my wife V" *r( " There sho is!" roared a dozen i j?1 : voices, with appropriate action of as j ' many unwashed hands. " Ain't got rid |1S ! of her so easy yet !" I ^ I will draw a decorous veil over the ' J?1 ; embrace that followed and the compli-1 ments exchanged by the populace, who ai? ! evinced the wildest joy at what was sup- ! i posed to be the discomfiture of villainy. : } I will merely observe that the whistle of j ?? J the Boston train cut short our little j vi-orio mill flint T vrns liitiilprl lm nil tlin 1 *01 i last oar auiid the cheers of the bvstaud- i J50 , er.s, greatly multiplied since Charlie's | |,u i appearance on the scene, and speeded on ; "e j my way by a parting roar from one be-1 . ! nevolent personage to " keep a tight eye ! jl1 j on my young man, for he warn't to lie j i trusted as far as you could see him!" | 00 . Also that Charlie shed bank-notes as well ! as buns in the excitement of the chase, j J"1 ! and that my point d'Alencon parasol with ! ',e i an.agate handle, the wedding gift of my > I beloved Arabella, is probably marching round Blankville at this very hour, ; poised in the Lisle-thread hand of some j an village belle. ( \y I Fc The Pistol and its Victims. ; sts The New York correspondent of the > "l1 j Utica Herald writes: The word pistol i s*r ; is derived from Pistoga, a town in Italy, j 0,1 where the weapon was invented about! three centuries ago. As a dueling wea- j "_r poll it superseded the sword about the . "ll time of the American Revolution. No : co: | sword duels are on record on this conti- j we I nent, but this was for a long time the ?.n 1 approved method in Europe. The pistol , |1L fired by Major Pitcairn, at Lexington, I ],e ' which was the first shot in the lievolu- *?. j tion, is now in the State library at Al-; P" bany. Among other historic pistol-shots , | is that by which Colonel li. M. John- j j'r ; son slew Tecnmseh, at the battle of the j "? ' Thames. The most fearful and horri-1 ble of all pistol tragedies was the death j j0( : of Lincoln. The next in point of dis-;'m tinetion was Alexander Hamilton. The | ('? derivation of the names of noted wea- j j'V pons has some interesting points. Can- 'U1 7 .. e ...l 1 ii x f?n noil is ironi canna, wnicn, in me ljiuin, ; ? means u tube; musket is from the Span- j1111 ish mosclieto?evidently referring to the j a sound of tlio ball and its wound. Itiilc on j is derived from rapio (Latin) or " rip," ; 8C? meaning a ripped or grooved surface, j jv* Artillery is derived from art, since it is j J,e | the highest art of destruction, and yet 'l0 the whisky-bottle has proved much more i1111 > destructive to our race. . Isti Eati 111; and Digestion. t'1 As a dessert I will add a few of my ' favorite dietic aphorisms: An liour of i se' exercise to every pound of food.?We J1.11 are not nourished by what we eat, but *. by what we digest.?Every hour you t ^ steal from digestion will be reclaimed j ' by indigestion.?Beware of the wrath ! (r. of a patient stomach !?He who con- . , trols his appetite in regard to the : . quality of his food may safely indulge 111 it in regard to quantity,?The oftener st' 1 you eat, the oftener you will repent it. fl* ?Dyspepsia is a poor pedestrian; walk . at the rate of four miles an hour and you will soon leave her behind.?The road to the rum cellar leads through the lo . coffee-house.?Abstinence from all ytim- j sa ' lants, only, is easier than temperance, j at s ?There are worthier objects of charity ' A: !! than famine-stricken nations that send p< s their breadstuff's to the distillery.?An egg is worth a pound of meat; a milch oi ' cow seven stall-fed oxen. ? Sleep is b; . sweeter after a fast-day than after a cc , feast-day.?For every meal you lose you tl gar", a better.?Populm- Science. i n< Words of Wisdom. One lias only to die to be praised. Handsome apples are sometimes sour, Little and often makes a heap in ue. It is easier to blamo than to be bet' r. It is not enough to arm ; you musl ? "Would you be strong, conquer yourIf. There is no good in preaching to the ingrv. Speak little, speak truth; spend lit?, pay cash. Better free in a foreign land than a ive at homo. Charity gives itself riches, but covetisness hoards itself poor. Everybody knows a good counsel expt him that hath need of it. The men that hope little are tho men at go 011 working. Thero is no sanctuary of virtue like irne. The scenes of childhood are the memies of future years. Idleness wastes a mau as sensibly as lustry improves him. The idle should not be classed among e living: they are a sort of dead men nt can't be buried. A great part of our existence serves other purpose than that of enabling to enjoy the rest. Intelligence tests ignorance and wism tests follies. But who aro the indigent and who are wise ? The application of common sense in " ' l-K-f io nln-nrc LlliTS U1 IJUUW Ul UIPUIUM xo uniwjn r best guide and monitor. Truth sometimes forces the vicious il depraved to recognize and honor 2 virtue they cannot corrupt. Only the power and potency of turn's laws ar^ manifested to us when : come in contact with them. Less time spent in idle dreaming and voted to tlio duties of life would re us \\Y..Uh and contentment. Don't covet the possessions of any in until you are willing to pay for ?m the price which he paid ; then you 11 not need to covet them, for you can and get them for yourself. Adobe. " Doby " is a word seldom heard in c Eastern or Middle States, and when ard is seldom understood. In Texas, izona and many portions of tlio Paic slupo the term is frequently used, d is well understood by any one that s anything to do with building. Doby" is the vernacular for "adobe," mud bricks, which in some portions the extreme Southwest are frequently ed for building purposes. In Texa3, iwMexicj and Arizona the frontier ilitary posts are almost entirely built "doby" bricks. The buildings jcted of this material are exceedingly* trm in winter and cool in summer, used no doubt by the great thickness the walls, which are made from two three and a half feet thick. "Does," or adobes, ore made and used as [lows : Tlie earth is dug up at any intwho.eit will make mud, and is itered and well mixed until it assumes 0 consistency of baker's dough, raw, hay, lushes or grass is then opped fine and mixed thoroughly it. It is then worked in molds, like dinarv bricks, and laid on the ground dry; two or three days' sun drys them ougli to permit of their being turned thoir edges; in a few days more thay 3 turned again. It takes from eight to 1 days in the summer and from twenty twenty-five in the winter to dry them oroughly. The average size of a loby" is four inches thick, ten inches de and twenty inches long. Four 2n used to the business will make >m five to six hundred a day, aud one in with good help will lay in the wall >m 800 to 1,000 per day. Thin mud * * * " i-_ -- 1 1 il. , useci instead 01 moriar, auu wueu iuh ill is completed it is solid, having no ints lil>e brickwork. Sometime?rot irays?the walls are plastered inside d out, and when properly done it ils much to tlio appearance of the ilding. The to.*n of Tucson, Arizona, ntains a great many " doby" bnil.dgs, some of which liavo boon crected r over forty years, and are yet, in good ndition. Usually these buildings are it one story high, but there are anumr of dwellings in the town referred to at are two stories high, and are bnilt the latest style of architecture. In >xas there are ono or two buildings nstructed entirely of this material at have been in existence for more an a hundred Tears, and they seem to good yet.?Builder and Woodworker. A Struggle Tor Life. A story of almost incredible endnree ami fortitude comes from the fur est. Three men, including E. 1). X tote, superintendent of the stage line, irted from Fort Fettennan, on the per North Platte river, for Rock Creek ition. on the Union Pacific railroad, a buckboard drawn by two powerful rses. The snow was falling fast and ifting badly, and before they reached e twenty-two-mile station they had uipletelv lost the trail, and the horse* re suffered to wander about guided lv by their own instinct. After a ae they left the lmckboard hind them, find endeavored push forward 011 horseback. At one int Mr. Foote was nearly killed by hi* rse, which fell backward into a snowIff A ff?!T (In'u fl.n Ill I'lg"' " ""I" *"" * """ ? " rses worn abandoned and the men uggled along on foot, hands, faces and >t being badly frozen. The three men d three sacks of mail and a canvas overat. The first man would stand on his lil-sack and throw the coat ahead oi ui, allowing him to take one step. Then eh man would follow on step by stop, d the last man picking up the fourth g, would heave it ahead for the lirsl e to step on. In this way they madi: mething like three miles, and len the third night set in they gan calling for help, and in half an mr were answered. Other calls were ide, and they were again answered b\ e firing of a gun, but the wind was sc ong they could not form any idea ol e direction it came from. Again and ain they called, and finally a light was en; and in an hour and a half the\ !ide the last quarter of a mile, finding emselves at the stage station, twenty e miles from the starting point. The iverhad to be dragged the last quartei a mile, and Mr. Foote says: " Wliei: knew that I was safe, it seemed impo* ?le for me to walk. I fell down twice making the'last few yards from tin ible. I had no strength to walk, anc ter entering the barn I could not eat.' " Earn His Sail." When we say of a shiftless fel w that he does nott "earn his It," Ave unconsciously allude to ai tcient custom among the Bomans mong them a man was said to be ii >ssession of a " salary" who had hii .larium, his allowance of salt-money of salt, wherewith to savor the foot r which he lived. Thus "salary' )mes from " salt," and in this view o le word how many tlier* are who d< it " earn their salt! " i TAKING ROGUES' FORTH A ITS. F.M'imIIpiii* tlini Scicrnl Ito Uothcr tlie JMioIouruiilicr-?CriiiiiiuiN Whoic I'or. iraitN lire in I lie (Jullery. To almost every beholder of the , i rogues' gallery at the police centr.il ofj fico, says a New York paper, the question that suggests itself is, "How do ' you manage it:- get these men and women to sit for their pictures ?' Among ! the 1,000 portraits that arc neatly framed aud numbered in the case here k f Artmiirtvrtlivnlc ^Att* fliofr. Ol-O tUif frtll* I ! i?IO pictures. The sitters liave in most . cases postured with ordinary care. There ! is the same appearance of being fixed for the occasion, and the same expression 1 of consciousness that, something is about to happen that marks the collection in photographers' frames. Even most of the men have put on their host ' I looks, as though anxious to go down to j posterity to the best advantage. Dnr; ing tho term of oflice of inspector Byrnes there have beer,, no cases of ab, i solute resistance to the picture-taking I process. Here a?d there a criminal has i objected, and h c to be persuaded and moderately coerced. But the mujority | submit to the inevitable, and make the best of a bad bargain.' rrl>o tilin liuro RniKrllt. t.n AVfl.l1 A 111 A Auw lv" v ~ ~ I ! photographer sta:ad out in conspicuous i prominence among the others. One of I the most amusing is Dutch Heinrich, j one of the Dan Noble gang concerned in ! j the Lord bond robbery. He is the j scamp who once followed a lady who had drawn some money from a bank, j He had provided himself with a linen j duster, with the sleeves spotted with j ink, such as bank clerks wear, and wore it under an overcoat. Ho waited in the j vestibule, and when the lady came out. he dolled his hat and overcoat, rushed out to the carriage, and blandly i said to the lady: "I beg your pardon, 1 madam. There has been a mistake in j the count; you have not enough. Let: ' mo take it back aud I will rectify it." " Oh, thank you," the lady said, and ; { she gave up the raoney. Heinrich's ran j nimbly back, put. on his hut and over- j I coat, and that was the last the lady saw of him or the money. When his picture j wc.s taken he did not resist, but every : ! time the operator got the camera ready I Hoinrichs bobbed about and distorted ! his face so as to destroy the likeness.; ' The one in the rogues' gallery is take* with his head thrown forward sad tt quizzical expression 011 his face, quite unlike his ordinary look. The likeness j was sufficiently good, however, to cause , him to be arrested and convicted on one . occasion. John Kenney, a burglar, adopted the nfiv#>l fvrnpdient of oneiiincr his mouth and bulging out his cheeks, but liis : bioad and commanding forehead and piominent features nuke the likeness i tolerably good. Theodore Davis, a : pickpocket, dropped his chin on his ! breast and put on a dejected air. Meyer ; Stulf, alias Snntchem, a well-known bank sneak thief, shut up his ejen, dis| tended his cheeks, and held down his ; head. Yet enough of his looks was | preserved to enab:e ouo of his victims i to pick him out. A strikiug picture is ' J that of Williams, a shoplift r, who tried resistance. He was held tirmly j i while the snn was at work 011 him. i Consequently his portrait is ornaniented i with a policeman's hands on hi? ears ! and one at his throat, which gives a do- i ! cidedly novel effect. Tho portraits of ! Thomas Oasey a Bowery pickpocket, ; j and Oscar Dtiko, a forger, are made to include portions of the oflicers who held them. That of a burglar named , Fowler shows tho policeman and the ! nijjpers, the tightening of which ut the j ! wrist served as a reminder that he, i had better keep still. Tho baldest head j of the lot seems to bo that of Frank I Simmons, an old offendor, who be at for- i ! ward so far that the top of his head was J ! taken. But he could not conceal his : j prodigious nose, which always betrays i j him. One of the most distorted faces in j the gallery is that of James Tighe, alias | Pop Tighe, a sneak thief, who has been I n? n TT'r>l n mi nut. ' * recif??ui?ti:u. UO uu uunv,?vwu*w : numerous visitors. Pop screwed up bis j face as if ho hail been eating green per- j simmens, but it availed him not. 13ill j I Vosburg, the Oarmel bank robber, had j to be taken with tlio nippers on. with | his eyes closed and his features awry* i George Farren, the forger, Billy Ogle, j the forger, and Eddy McLean, tb-3 hotel . sneak, all tried similar games to prevent J recognition, but they were uusuccess| ful. James Reynolds, arrested for robi bery, came the nearest to a disguise, j He threw his head back, shut his eyes and puckered his mouth until ho looked ! as if he had been tasting gall and wormJ wood, but he has lineaments that he 11 could not disguise. Peter Luther, alias | Banjo Pete, arrested by Inspector : Byrnes in Philadelphia, was very averse 1 to having his picture taken, and tried i various changes of position. His like-, ness would, however, be recognized by | any ono who lmd once been impressed 1 by his face, "'here are some others in the gallery who have evidently tried to ' look odd, but the number of that class i is decreasing oaily. ! Many pictures have been taken out of the rogues' gallery. Sometimes the i subjects are dead or have reformed. In : j the latter case the picture is not de; stroyed, but is kept with a record of the : reason for taking tho picture out. If 1; the culprit turns up as a criminal again, 11 he is again made to contribute his pie . fnvo in flm Tji nnn case re ; IU.U I cently Inspector Byrnes caught an of j fender who had had his picture taken 1; out by his friends. Tho next day tho 11 man took his place among the rogues. ! All tho pictures thus fur removed have ' i been at the request of friends of the ' j criminals, and upon j>romisc of reform. ! In no case have any legal proceedings 1 j been taken to causo tlie removal of a ' j picture or to obtain damages for its ! i use. There was a case recently in Louisville, Kv., where a man named Arnold, i charged with dealing in counterfeit 1 ; money, after his acquittal instituted a I suit against the United States officers ; | who took his picture. Ho lost his suit, ! however, and Judge Barr held that, under the circumstances, the officers 1 | had a right to take his pictnrc. i There are many striking instances of ! the value of pictures to assist in the de!! tection of criminals. Tho venerable j Mrs. Ogden Hoffman was onco rol bed | ; of her pocketbook on the rear platform 1; of a Fourth avenue car. Sho was positive that she could pick out tho man ' | who robbed her, and on visiting the j ( rogues' gallery instantly picked out the ;! picluio of a well-known thief named i Fatty Dolan, tho companion of lied 1 j Learv, who was detected picking pock[ i ets at the Paris exj osition, and served I five years in a French prison. Inspec[ j tor Byrnes caused the arrest of Dolan, ; and not long afterward, by some myste1 rioua channel, Mrs. Hoffman's watch I was. returned. Tho famous English 1 swindling swell, Lord Beresford, was - j recogn;zed walking on Broadway with 3 | an elegantly dressed lady by Detectives 1 i Dusenbury and Eadford. His lordship | waei highly indignant, and protested i ] against the action of the detectives as 3 j an outrage. He was confronted with his > ! picture, however, which had been sent I i hero from England, and the lady was " j advised to go home. f Those and hundreds of other similar ' cases havo so signalized tho value of j pictures that no criminal is allowed to go without some sort of a likeness bv which ho may be traced. They are ol inestimable value in furnishing aid to the authorities in procuring evidence on the trial of criminals. There is a regular system of bookkeeping and records l t 1 T j__ T? J! wnicn enaoies inspector nyruus iu iuinisli at a minute's notice the record of any proruiueut criminal. Each is known l\v a number, and each arrest and conviction is recorded in a book. " Adulteration of Fowl. ; Adulteration of food is one of the common devices of rogues the world over. How the sugar is sanded and the ' flour plastered and the cornmeal sawdusted and the coffee-bean assorted with his brother bean of less exalted price, are facts so similar as to bo the most ancient themes of the humorists : who fill the odd corners of comic almanacs. But in great cities this meau offense of dishonest dealers rises to the disrnity of a grand conspiracy against | the purses of the poor as well as against tho health aiul even tho lives of people ! of all conditions. In London, in Paris, in Vienna, in Berlin, in all the cities of Europe, the adulteration of food, and the trade in articles prepared to enable retail dealers to adulterate for them selves, is pursued with a persistent ingenuity that is always at war with the police, for this traific is contrary t> law in all those places, and receives a great deal of attention from the authorities. "With us, however, this traffic h s at tained the dos-elopment and grandeur that all the institutions of effete Eurepe acquire in this atmosphere of freedom. influenced oy ine euurgei.ii; character of our people and the liberality of our laws, the vendors of vitiated articles have come out of the alleys and remote corners of life, llaunt themselves in magnificent establishments, and sell rotten animal fat for butter, not by the furtive ounce or the pitiful pound, but by shiploads at a time. It is commerce now Our theory of government and legislation is that most of the small evil3 of life cure themselves, aud that a dishonest dealer will not get custom, and therefore caDnot live in the presnnn.x nt fVm linnnsh rloalm* at tho next corner. Tho simple fact is t bat it is the honest dealer who cannot live, wiiile tho other thrives 011 every hand. Bat this theory that the people can tako oare of themselves has discouraged the legislation that in other countries t&kos oare of them as to these difficulties. Hence the rogue has praotically his own way?bread, meat; wine, whisky, beer, bntror, are all sophisticated. There is lmrdly an article of common use on the foliln ti.of rtnn can be sure to have pure at all times. Sausages are made in the city from the putrid carcasses of auinjals, in which thero is a regular traffic. How butter is made in the large oleomargarine establishments has of lae been repeatedly described, and there is no reason whv people should be ignorant on this' point. It is within the power of the board of health to suppress this traffic so far as it touches the legal authority of that body, but we suppose the money given does not enable it to sustain a proper scrutiny over the retail trade of the whole city. It has reached the mild thieves and watches the bad moat with some success, but otherwise 1 * * 1 -e "rtA* llOTrn tao piunnerers 01 ui? ijuui whole field to themselves. One of the grave consequences of the development reached by this villainy is that before a great while it is certain to react injuriously upou that enormous trade in the necessaries of .life that has grown up within a few years between this country and Europe. Au honest pursuit of that commerce would carry it eventually to proportions yet unimagined; for the cheapness of production here, our ingenuity in the contrivance of methods for putting in a distant market the most unlikely productions, our energy and capable commercial sjjirit, would give us the absolute command of the food markets of the world, as we have now of a f. w points in Europe. But oleomargarine will destroy the European market for American butter; trichina) will destroy the market for our hams, and a few well authenticated cases of poisoning from American canned goods will shut them out of half the countries in Europe.?JVeio York Herald. Power ol Example. Example is power. It is alike so in the circles of wealth and refinement and in the haunts of poverty and ignorance. It tells everywhere, and makes its mark for good or evil all over the world of men and thought. All history is but a reiteration of the power of example?power to bless and refine, or to - * tt?i bl.glit aud nun mimanuy. uiuwaa no teachings impress us with this truth, we are indeed poor students of human history. One lias well said that "History is philosophy teaching by example." Example is power for good. Every man has influence, moie or less, in his sphere of life, and that influence, in the very nature of the place, must tell on his fellows. If he be a good man, his example must and will do good. It cannot be otherwise. A pure and virtuous life, like tho sun in the heavens, must shine and bless, brighten and warm in the morn I world. So it has ever been, and so it ever will be. Truth aud purity, like so many gems in the life an 1 examule of the cood man, cannot but shame and condemn error and vice in others. A fault d?t11 newr with remorae Our mind so (livplv move Ah when another'* guileless life Utir error doth reprove. Example is also a power for evil. rT"'""" "<"? 'infiinnfinr* tllfl fiXt(!tlfc of a IUU1C X.-3 uu bail man's iuflucnco in tho world; its moral reach is indeed fearful. "One sinner destroyed! much good," is the testimony of the wise mau, as well as the practical teaching of all experience. Ail instrument of incalculable harm in any community is the man who arrays his liCe and example against virtue and religion ; and yet thousands of our fellow-beings seem only to live that they nmy blight humanity with the influence of their wicked lives and evil example. Their work in the world is that of dstruction, for they literally " destroy much good." Cicero gave his followers the best of counsel when he said to them : "Be a pattern to others and then all will go well: for as a whole city is infected bv the licentious passions and vices of men, so is it likewise reformed by their moderation." S(('.iclchiiig a Lady-Killer. A lady-kiiler endeavored to engage a young lady in a flirtation the other day by signaling from his window to hers which was opposite. After exhausting nil the language of tho handkerchief flirtation without making her understand he resorted to the sig. s used by ci.eaf mutes when talking to each other. The lady smiled and shook her head, intimating that she did not comprehend. A sudden inspiration, however, seemed to seizo licr. She took a piece of paper end wrote in large letters the following: "I do not understand the handkerchief flirtation nor the dumb languago, but ' my husband knows both. Ho is downstairs. I will call him up and he will talk to you." Ah sho turned away from the window tho lady-killer did tin"1 sam?\ H<> has not been seen since. FOR THE FAIR SEX. Sarn'H Jeweut. j Mile. Bernhardt exhibited her costly , I collection of diamonds and other beau[ tiful gems during her recent engagement in St. Louis and Cincinnati. The estimated value of the jewelry is ?75,000, but several of the pieces cannot be replaced and are therefore invaluable, i One bracelet contains 5,000 diamonds and is worth 810,000; then she possesses l a string of these precious stones three , feet long, which Mile. Bernhardt wears j coiled around her neck or wrapped i around her arms as a bangle. Her rarest ! piece exhibited is a basket composed of | alternate rows of diamonds and sapphires. i The eleven sapphires are as large as filberts, of pure azure hue and cut in beryl shape. It is diflicult to place any value upon them because there is no sapphire collection of equal brilliancy, size and color in the world. A Vii??Air 17unn nn Two Spanish beauties in Paris, the Countess Multedo and Senorita Penedo, had a narrow escape of being suffocated by natural flowers in their hair and the trimming of their ball dresses as they were returning homo from Queen Isabella's soiree in a closely sliut-np carI riage. The flowers were profusely emI ployed in garlands. The ladies for some i time chatted gayly. One of them then I became silent and then the other, uount Multedo, who was with them, grew j alarmed when neither of them replied j to observations he made and questions i he put, and all the more so that he felt j oppressed by the perfume of the flowers. When he caused the carriage to stop and | opened the window he found them in! sensible, but they soon recovered when j taken into tho air; they, however, ' caught a severe cold from the sudden I exposure. Children's Wlilte Drewtes. j. White pique dresses with red or blue j woolen sword sashes are being made at 1 the furnishing houses for the spring j dresses of small boys and girls. The ; simplest styles are in best taste for these I little dresses, and while some embroidj ery is necessary for trimming them, they ; are easily spoiled by having too much of i it. The very deep round collar and 1 square cuffs should be cut from the i half-yard wide Hamburg embroidery, ! and a ruffle of similar pattern should be placed at the head of the Spanish flounce ?not below it?and tho woolen sash should in its turn head the embroidered raffle. Such dresses are, - of course, all in oxie piece, and are fastened in front. One stylish model has the back in three pieces, that . is, irithoufr a seam ,1/litrn tlm milKnr A j single broad middle form7 while. jkJie j wide side forms begin in the shoultfe? : seams. These meet the Spanish flounce, ! which is in double or perhaps triple box ; plaits, and is very deep, beginning under i tho embroidered ruffle, and being j merely finished below with a hem. The I front is in close sack shape, without | darts or side forms, and has a row of . embroidered insertion, with edging each | side of it down the front; this conceals j the buttons and button-holes that fasten i the dress. To make it more dressy, two j pretty tabs, like side pockets (or else j three or four, if preferred), may be made I of the insertion and edging, j and used for passing the cashi mero sash beneath. White mus' lin dresses for children are made sack j shape, with three box plaits down front . and back alike, with the Spanish flounce | very deep, fully plaited, instead of being ' gathered, and, as we have noted for pique I dresses, with a separate embroidered rufi fle falling over the top of the plaited I flounce, instead of edging it below. For boys, such dresses may be buttoned in I front, and instead of three plaits, have a j single wide box plait like that on gentle' men's shirt fronts, or else several narrow | tucks a third of an inch wide may be used, as this gives a skirt-front effect. For children's colored dresses, the I Mpiih'h 7Piilivr oinchams of solid color. i %; ~ o?o??-? | or in finest bars of single threads of ; blue or j)ink on white, will be made up i in square-necked Gabrielle shapes, and worn over embroidered white slips or guimpes of muslin and needle-work. The whole front of some of these colj ored dresses is laid in narrow box j)laits from the low neck to the frills at the | foot. These are the French designs, but I American mothers prefer fuller dresses. The princesse designs, yoke slips, and i box-plaited sacks will be retained for j ginghams, prints, and white muslins. | For woolen dresses, especially for those ' of larger girls, the bias and pufted eHoots already described for skirts will | be repeated, especially in striped and ! plaid woolens that look best when cut ' bias.?Ilarp&'s Bazar. Fnshion Notrn. Extra wide scarfs of Spanish net ' spangled with gold beads and edged ! with gold laco are imported. Plain and figured sateens are among | the new cotton fabrics. They are genj erally used in combination. Roses in all shades, from the palest ! pink to the deepest damask red, are i made into garniture for ball dresses. ; A pretty lace pin imi ates an antler's ! tip, and is made of tortoise shell wreathn.l ifiHi o?i-r>n? nml V>nn.n? in colli. Some of the short skirts look as if j they were made of scraps of half worn gowns, so varied are the trimmings. Some of the new dress models show i the polonaise with belt around the waist, skirt short in front, trimmed with cords and tassels, shawl points at the sides, and a narrow bouffant tournure at the j back. I Floral garnitures mingled with light i diaphanous materials, such as embroi1 dered and spangled tulles, gauzes and j delicate tinted silks, are exceedingly i fashionable for ball dresses, but with | heavy brocades and velvets no flowers are worn; they would not harmonize. In gloves, fashion calls fur six buttons, or as many more as the wearer can i nflVvi./1?fn'nlra {iw n\v>ninrr hpincr re gariled as a satisfactory number. It is ! whispered that sometimes, since the lingers become soiled while the upper ! part is still clean, practical economists match the shade in two buttons, which, being despised of fashion, are therefore cheap, and sew thorn on to the many buttoned tops, hiding the join under a ! bracelet. It is said tiiat some of the costumes worn as house dresses arc copied from , church windows, the deep, rich mlori ing being found very effective. Worth, the Parisian dressmaker, as a i general mlc, it is said, makes no charges < for linings. Lately, however, li-- departed from his custom by requiring payment for the fur lining of a cloak he made. The fur used was Russian sable, and the charge was ?8,000. A new material for flounces is a silk | and wool stuff with a satin surface woven . in plaits. j Irish point lace is quite a favorite with ; aristocratic society dressers. The fiolnu . j formed of this exquisite lace are of twe I shapes, the one nearlv covering the fronl ; i of the basque, the otker extending onh ,' midway, and flares in a pretty style al , | the throat. The prices of these eleganl dress accessories are from 835 upward i : Laces of all kinds will figure con . ( snicuously in the toilets designed foi i the slimmer spasnn. Low Life in Egypt. From my window, in what I believe to be the most southern hotel in nil Africa above Cape Colony, at Minien, in Upper Egypt, writes a correspondent from Egypt, I looked down into the in! terior of tho houses of many of the agricultural laborers, if luuses the simplest structures can be called. They consist of a clay inclosure, of irregular | shape, six feet high and ton or twelve 1 feet square. Across one corner of this enclosure is thrown a few bundles of reeds or canes, which form a ohelter from tho noonday rays of the sun. The 1 door of this inclosure opens into a sim- j ilar one, but* without sncli shelter, in j which at sunrise stand a donkey and a 1 buffalo cow and her calf. This yard opens into the street, from which it is I Uw rt /Iaav aP r?loifrnn/1a ! | oc^axaicu uj u uvv/i vi j/ujiuvv? ?w\%w* j I This structure the Egyptian calls his i home. Hero he lives, here his children J are born, here he expects to die. The j whole affair probably cost five dollars ' beside his own labor. In the neighbor\ hood of the town he may rent a small << I plot of ground at the rate of ten dollars ' per acre; ho also possesses the buffalo cow and her calf, a donkey and a few ,<y goats; then perhaps ten dollars e' worth of tools, furniture and clothing, and ornaments for his wife! si and family. This ends the catalogue of j n Achmet's worldly possessions. Yet Ach- [ ci met is the most independent man in the \ world, and it is just this independence | li j that ruins him; this absolute freedom J y i that keeps him in such abject poverty. ]j ' Ho wants help from nobody; lie shares : : his talk with nobody. Ho is utterly ; j j ignorant of the great modern secret of ; ^ ; power, tho division of labor. He does j ? J not support a shoemaker, because ho j _ j and his family go barefoot the entiro , I year; nor a tailor, because his wife, | .. | Fatima, takes the cotton cloth from the j " bazar, and, sewing a few seams, makes A upon a similar and most simple plan all j j1. | the garments of tho L mily, nor does ! I ho need a woolen mill, for ho site at the i ! door of his hut spinning with a single ;.Sl ! spindle sometimes all day long. Nor do n j his needs extend to a wagon maker? | 8' : the donkey transports everything ho ro* : 1 ! quires, his home-made, sun-dried bricks, 1 his ha.v, himself, Fatima and his child- j)' j ren. He wants no miller, for Fatima, ^ j turning one flat stono upon another, j o | grinds the corn and wheat to a coarse j 1 powder. j He needs no hatter, for he rolls his j g i turban of white muslin himself?and i h ! this, to tho European, is the most at-! n j tractive work of art < f which Achmet is j ; capable. Ho scarcely patronizes the | j comb maker, because his head, for ! p I cleanlinead - sake, is shaven as close as j n I ?1W?i e\4 a. PmnL: TTn rAfiniroa no I , i ble lefttob^BcruF nlwpetb^- n i mg magical tests from the Jidmi, 1 which a scribe, who swem-legged at rj , the corncr of tho street, is reif^ to j j write at a moment's notice ; and these are the cheapest and best preventives 1 and cures for all diseases. Even his h disssipations are of his own preparation. : j1 : He gets drowsy on his tobacco raised i " i on his own bit of ground, which ho j11 I smokes as a cigarette, rolled by himself. ! He smokes or chews the hasheesh tl I grown by stealth in his garden; and he d J intoxicates himself on the date spirit y i which he has fermented and distilled tl i in his primative alombic. Fatima's T i entire domestic establishment has no a i work for a ccoper, for all her vessels, | except an iron pan, are of coarso i ii i earthenware. Nor does she need a | si ! churn, for I saw her from my window | h I use tLe most singular and primitive I j chum in tho world. She brought I it 1 from somo mysterious corner a skin of a e I last year's goat which had been taken ! J from the animal as nearly hole as j S1 i nncsililA. Tr> pjif.h of what renresented i ?? i tho legs of this animal she tied to the i (j | end of a cord, then brought tho other ! ^ . ends together in a knot, and suspeuded j r] I the whole to a peg five feet above the J ground in the wall. She now proceeded j a to open tho skin at tho neck and pour ; j into it buffalo mi k or cream from a j large jar. Sho blow the skin full of air, ! , and, tying tho neck slightly with a ! strinsr. sat down upon fcl-e ground to | J shake it. For rive minutes s o snook | ^ it with both hands back and forth, the J i buffalo cow herself looking on with a ; P I most knowing expression, and rumina ! ' ; ting slowly the while?then the air was let off and a fresh supply bl >wn in from J* } the lungs of the woman. This alter- ' ; nate shaking and supplying with air a was continued for half an hour, wtien j n . there was evidently a mass of batter j P j rolling about within the bag. The but- ' ^ i termilk was poured off into the cream j * jar and carefully preserved, the butter j v . squeezed into a coherent lump, and the j J operation was completed. ?Pictorial \ * World. White and Clean Teeth. i Cleanliness of the teeth is to the eye v : what purity of breath is to the sense of g smelling. Nothing, indeed, is more desi-! u rable in the appearance of a lady than R clean, white teeth, and the gums the n color of the rose; nothing more repul- p sivp than unclean, discolored and tin- u caroil for teeth, thickly incrusted with ^ tartar. The most beautiful face ami lips ' e arc disagreeable if the latter, when open, 1 t exhibit the offensive spectacle of neglect- i fi ed teeth. The whiteness of teeth is liable t to be lost by the influence of various | c causes, und they are tarnished by the a action of different elemeuts and by the i I exalations of the stomach. When the ' I loss of whiteness is occasioned by the j i production of tartar, a coral stick may g be used to clean the teeth and to remove ' the tartarous salt: the blackness of the c ! tooth may be sometimes corrected by o j pulverizing equal parts of tartar and t salt, and, after washing the teeth, rub I them with this powder. The gums can- f not be healthy unless they are firm and c red, and adhere to the roots of the teeth j ? ?these quantities depending, in a great j < measure, on the health. The gums are 1 *3 liable to a variety of accidents which 11 impair both their health and beauty, and j ^ which often transform them into very ' I unsightly objects. Sometimes they j 1 i grow soft, swell and appear full of liquid t j and corrupted blood; at others, they t i project, and cover a groat part of the : < | teeth; they also become inflamed and s j painful and affected with offensive ulcers, t A good cleansing mixture may bo made < ; by amalgamating an ounce of powdered ;8 myrrh, two spoonfuls of white honey j < aud a little green sago in tine powder; < wet the teeth and gums with a very lit- f , tie of this at night and morning. Pow- 1 dered charcoal is also an effective article ' for cleansing and whitening. * A Madstone. ' '! < , i There are many persons in the West ( j who believe in the curative powers of j J the madstone. A man who was bitten t , \ by a mad pig near Tecumseh, Neb., j ( ' j traveled all the way to Savannah, Mo., , 1 ' to try the famous madstone owned by 11 j Uncle John Nelson. The stone, imrne-!, '! diately adhered to the wound, which is j j ?1 said to be proof positive that the pa- < ? tient'8 blood was poisoned, and remained j J' clinging to the sore from early morning : : until sundown, when it dropped off. 1 ? t The patient departed, feeling that he , t had been cured. Uucle John Nelson , _ has owned his madstone since 1848, and j - lias used it in over 100 cases where men [ haro been bitten. Ho avor^ that it i never failed to work a cure. I To Mount Shasta. To lord all Godlaud 1 lift tho brow Familiar to tho moon, to top' Tlic universal world, to prop Tho hollow heavens up, to vow Stem constancy with stars, to koep Eternal watch whilo cons sleep, To tower proudly up and touch God's purple garment-herns th it swoop Tho cold, blue North?oh! this woro much I Where snow-bom shadows Lido nna Hunt I knew thee, in thy glorious youth, And loved thy vast face white aa truth; I stood where thunderbolts were wont To smito thy Titan-fashioned front, And heard dark mountains rock and roll; I saw the lightning's gleaming rod Iieach forth and writo on heaven's scroll The awful autograph of God. ?Joaquin Miller, in Independent HUMOROUS. An exquisite young lady calls aa ox a male cow." "Taken prisoner and handcuffed," lid the bad boy when he "was apprehendi and had his ears boxed. Olive Logan says that Bernhardt can aailo in 200 different ways. This ia tore than the greatest drinker in Toledo 3uld do.?Detroit Free Press. Whenever you hear a man asking if fe is worth the living you can make ap our mind that he indorsed a bill and nd fn nnv it, T)>drnil Free Press. A New York photographer has taken 10,000 negatives. Flanders says he has iken twice that number from as many retty girls, and isn't discouraged yefc. Boston Ti'anscript. Mary Anderson has been appointed ghthouse keeper at Round Island, 'his, of course, is not Mary, the tragic ctress, for she knows nothing about ght houses. ?Picayune. A theater manager hidLydia Thomp- ^ ou's wardrobe to prevent her irm^^H laking an engagement with a rival. lipped the clothes in his vest pocket^EBH lodern Argo. The Herald has an article headeS^MB 'Frauds in Butter." We haven't read^^ k, but suppose it lefers to substitution f jute for the genuine artiole of hair. -IjOicell Citizen. " What is your wife's particular little ame?" asked a friend of a henpecked tet usband. " When she gets thoroughly Sua iadf" he answered, " it's draw-poker, % . -Brooklyn Eagle . flag The Baroness Burdett-Ooutta _ has !M| relented her intended husband with aSH lagmliceiit stud of thoroughbred hun-S 3rs. Her affection for him is a stable? ne.?Philadelphia Bulletin. In spesjdmpaf uiniug eensation. Takes after hi^lp The idea of the biggest head knowing le most is all nonsense. The mastoon had the biggest head of his time; et he didn't know enongh to go into le ark ont of the rain and be saved, he mosquito, with scarcely any head % t all, was wiser. The Russians have succeeded in tak1 g Geok Tepe. We've bad out ' #? l: 4>rT* Jspicions IOT hUUlU uuiu man uimj u ad their designs on Geok Tepe, and 'e are not surprised that they've taken A Russian will take anything ex-. . >' ept a pill.?Rockland Courier. ? " What are you doing there, Jimmy?" lid a mother to her meddlesome boy. Looking for a lost 'art," replied the elver into science, mince pie, black- ' erry jam, etc. " Let me assist you to ; > ise in the world," responded Las ma- . jmal relative, as she fondled him with ' broomstick.?Keok uk Oale City. The slowness of the waiters at a Gal- . > eston hotel is getting to be proverbial. fler waiting until he was tired out, a ' ' entlcman called the waiter and asked V hen his turn was to come. "Can't ill, sir. I've got to wait on that other entleman first. He leaves on the train j-moiTow morning."?Galveston News. " Good night, darling," ho said to l'A fvrtffnjl drtttm f.llA 070.1 lr rtf ft Ul in JiU IWfclWV* Vtv/I.u w?*w ? 'bird street resilience the other eveiyag,^ nil he had the words hardly ont-of his louth when his feet struck a slippery lace on the walk and ho came down ith a crash. It was astonishing to now how suddenly that young man's oice of tenderness could change to the lost vehement emphasis.?Fullon ''imcs. Burglars' Tools. Occasionally the public are favored rith accounts of tools used by bur* lars, accompanied by dissertations pon their remarkable character as reaids quality of material and worklanahip. Those accounts bear the im* iress of having been written by persons mfamiliar with the subject, and what ^ ias been done and is common knowldge among artisans. Particularly is Iia nnalitv of the steel used bv bOT ;lars insisted upon until it would seem hat " cracksmen " possessed steel works i their own r.-'.ioreinthey made a rare nd valuable pre duct solely for their lurposes. There is nothing to prevent ? inrglars from obtaining the finest steel 'cf f they have money; thej have only to j: ;o into a John street store and pick out phut they want; and this comment is ailed out by a mild wonder on our part i a to how the reporter k^ew whether he goods he saw were of fine steel or )oor steel ? What would be fine steel or a wedge would be very poor for a srowbar, and vice versa. Aud as re* j, " - !- J-*?1 A llmir -y jaras me ingenuity uiaju?j <;u m , :onstruction, there is none whatever. There are appliances in daily rise far J|j nore ingenious than any burglars employ ' vhich would answer their purpose still )etter than any they use, anu it is a matter or genuine surprise amcng mechanics vX hat they have never been adopted by he "fraternity." Noiseless rachefc" -MJ h ills for example, which is the only in* .trument we feel called upon to name ;hat are so compact that thoy could be * :arried in a man's breast pocket easily; vlso tools that will drill anything, even . hilled iron, which is so much harder , ^ han a file that the latter cannot make ^ i mark upon it. There are no " new >rocesses" for hardening steel, no ' latest processes " that burglars possess i special knowledge of. The wondrous 'tool" that draws together iron bare ^ :hat protect windows?consisting of "ft tt: couple of screws with projections"?is juite an unnecessary burden for a thief to carry, for most of the iron bars 5? ire the veriest 6hams in existence; ?. easily removed by drawing a few wood* screws so that the whole grating could je carried off in ten minutes. If it irere of any value it would be in many instances. Where the bars are let into ? '* :he stone sills, as they sometimes are, ^ it is an easy task to wrench them loose. J Matters that look formidable to a per- ^ jon unfamiliar with the subject, are of jo importance to exports.?Mechanical "< Engineer. Manner is of importance. A kind no ,s often more agreeable than a rough