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BY HUGH WILSON AND H. T. WAKDLAW. ABBEVILLE, S. C., WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 14, 1881. NO. 15. VOLUME XXVL?|jg Wlial is the (iain? What is the qain? If one should run a no'?l.* race, And at the last, with wary pace, Win to the goal, and find his years A harvest field of was J? uid tears, Of tarmoil and of l>u rir ?! trust, Rich with dead hopes and hitter dust, And strife and sneer an.1 ceaseless pain, What is the gain? What is the pain? When, having reached a sunlit height, Through barren -'verps gloomful night, Hoping to see bey.>nd the ^rest Fair lands of beauty and of rest, There lies before, strctched far away Unto the confines >.r the day A desolate and sliatkh ss plain. What is the gain: wv,?t To sail for months of e;<! 1 snd toil Across wide seas, where winds re coil, Only to gather strength and roar A louder challenge than before. And tind, when thrown foge thick ami dun The rocky coast at List is won, No haven from the storm-vexed main, What is the gain? What is the gain? The race is won, we see the light, We conquer where the storm-winds light; We show the way to those who wait With faint hearts by the walls of fate; Our banners flutter i:i the van Of battles fought for thought and man. And ignorance and darkness wane, This is the gain. A WIDOWS FfiOPGSALS; Or Testing a Lover Worth Having CHAPTEIt I. "My dear Mrs. Hartley, what can ! say more to convince yon of the truth?1 " Nothing, Mr. Robert*. I am not i girl now, but a woman of thirty." " Surely not. You don't look twenty five." Mrs. Hartley's eyes opened a littl< more widely, and* she gave Frant Roberts so searching a look that ho say that he had made a mistake, and hast ened to try and recover lost ground. "You doubt me again," he whispered " I tell you that in my eyes \ou do no I seem to be twenty-five. Mrs. Hartley ?Julia?why are you so hard upon tlu man who loves you with all his heart V "Because I am a widow, Mr. Roberts and trouble has made me bard ant wordly.'M " Yes, because you were married to ? man who could not appreciate youi worth, and who did not do his duty bj you." "Suppose we say no more about mj late husband, Mr. Roberts," said tht lady, coldly. " Mr. Hartley was a jusi man, even if he was stern." "Yes, yes, of course," said the other, "Oh, what an unlucky wretch I am. Here am I trying to advance my cause; I came to the picnic on purpose; I have implored you to listen to me, and here I am constantly saying things you don'l like, and making myself stand lower in your favor than I did a month ago.'"Nonsense, Mr. Roberts," said the lady, smiling, and her face wore a ver\ winning expression as she spoke. " W'lij cannot we remain friends as we have been before ? Wiry," sue aauea, jaugning, " should I marry again V" "Why?" he whispered, passionately, and certainly Frank Roberts just ther looked very manly and handsome as he pleaded his cause with the fair widow, "Why?" he whispered, bending toward her ; '"as a duty as a woman?to make the man happy who loves you with all his heart and 'soul. Oh, Julia, be merciful to me when I plead to you like this, when?Oh, Heaven! this is toe bad. You are laughing." "Guilty, Mr. Roberts," said the widow; "but how could I help it when I find you talking to me like a hero in a story. I can only think it droll, and of course I laugh." " If I did not know you to be all thai is tender and lovable and good," he cried, " I should think your heart was of stone." "Now yoxi are trying the complimentary tact, Mr. Roberts, and yoc know what I baitl about my age. Please do remember that I am not a young girl." " I remember nothing but that I love you passionately," he cried, "and thai I would do anything, even to plunging into yon river, if it would make yon happy." " And pray how could your doing such a sillv thing as jumping into the watei and getting muddy and wet make me happy ?' she asked, merrily. " You would be happier if I were dead," he cried, tragically. "Good gracious, no!" she cried. "There's plenty of room in this world for both. Bnt now look here, Mr. Roberts, you say yon have fallen deeply an love wi'li me." " I adore yon,"' lie cried, rapturously. "Hcaven.s, wlmta goddess I must be," she said, merrily. " Well, then, you worship me, and I understand from your discourse, Mr. Roberts, that you would do anything to make me happy." "Indeed?on my soul I would." " There is no occasion to bwear it, Mr. Roberts," said the widow. "Proof will do." " How can I prove it ? Tell me," he cried. " By talking no more nonsenso to mc for the re*t of the day." " Mrs. Hartley ! Julia!" "And by taking me at once back tc the slope there, where they are spread ing the cloths, and giving me some dinner." " I will," he cried. " For I feel half starved?goddes: though I be," she said, mockingly. "Bnt one moment more," he said. "No, no, nor half a moment," slit said, liinily. "We shall have the good natured people. of the party making al kinds of unpleasant remarks about mi frivolous behavior as it is " " Why should we care for the ill-na Tired remarks of the malevolent ?" h< exclaimed. . 'I don't know whether you neet care," she paid, quietly, " but I care ? ! great deal, and 1 do not disown it. Ill natured, scandalous remarks make mi feel uncomfortable. Now, Mr. Roberts will you give me yonr arm, or shall ' walk" back alone 7" " My arm?my hand?my heart!" hi exclaimed, passionately. "Oh, Julia!' ' Gracious, man," she cried, flushing with impatience, "didn't 1 tell you tha I was horribly hungry ? Goddesse want feeding like other people, and w had just made a bargain that you wer not to talk any mors stuff. There goe Miss Rollton, young, sanguine and fas cinating, waiting for a cavaiier. G and talk to her. She'll enjoy thing that only worry me. TVhv, what a sill; man you are to want to marry an elderl widow, instead of some nice, brigh young girl. Frank Roberts, the handsomest ma v in the large party, heaved a deep Big! and offering his arm led the lady bac to where beneath the umbrageous tree the substantial cold collation was raj idly being spread, and soon after Mr: Hartley was seated upon an overcoa folded into a cushion, and dining wit excellent appetite off the various viand of the feast. CHAPTER H. ' r * ? The scone of the above mentione conversation was a pleasant green pat in extensive grounds on the banks of tt river Thames at Cookham. The pla( was dotted with well-dressed peopl* forming atoms in the whole of the gres picnic being held on as lovely a Jur . J as ever added beauty to that charn ing portion of our national river. It might have been supposed thi upon such a day happiness would ha\ ruled supreme; but it was not so, for se1 eral members of the party were not i the best of tempers. For instance, Mrs. Hartley, beneal her pleasant smile, felt anything bi content. More than that, she was rathi l bored. The protestations of Frar Robert* troubled her. She liked hi well enough, but she had her doubts liis stability, and a suspicion had planted itself firmly in her mind to the effect that he cared more for the handsome sum of money left unconditionally to ner oy her late husband than he did for her handsome face and thoroughly honest heart. Then, too, Mr. Frank Roberts, after I contriving his opportunity to make a l declaration, had b- en st.> dissatisfied by i the result that he hid gone aside, after placing his inamorata in a good place, i to obtain a glass of lemonade, and swore at the attendant for not putting in mote i sugar. j Doubtless there were other disconI tented swains and ladies, but with them i we have nothiug to do, but will turn at or.ee to a couple who were strolling slowly by tiie river's brink; an elderly man with bent shoulders and white hair, and one about middle age, slightly grizzled, and with a massive head and thoughtful face, that would liavo been plain but for his magnificent gray eyes. " Hah !" said the elder, in a sour tone of voice, "some men do make fools of themselves; and how can you be such an idiot, Morris, as to let that showy butterfly of a fellow carry off a really good little woman from under your nose I can't think. I always fancied you loved her." "So I do, doctor, with all my heart." ' Then, hang it, man, marry her." " What, and make her unhappy, doc! tor? No, I love her too well for that." I "Stuff and nonsense, man !" "It is no stuff and nonsense, doctor. I She cares for Roberts. Look at them ! vonder. Why should I interfere ?" "Because it isn't right, aud I don't like it. That fellow Roberts is a scoundrel, I'm sure; and all be wants is the widow's money; and as soon as be bad got that be would break her heart. Hang it, man, go and cut him out. Go | and propose." I { "I did, doctor." " "Well?" II "She bade me wait; asked for time. I I esteemed her delicacy, and have waited. There is the result." "Humph!" said the old doctor. 5 " Well, I'm sorry?deuced sorry. Hartt j ley was o verv old friend of mine, and in ! ' bis last ii.iic.-ii be said to me: ' Of j - course, it's natural that my dear young : wife should some day want to marry again. Watch over her, doctor, and Eee t if you can that she does not become the r Ptfy of a scoundrel.' 'Tie your money i > up tight,'I said to him. 'No, doctor,' | he said, ' I love her too well to insult j > her like that. God bless her?I've I every confidence in her. She shall do j as she pleases, aud I thank her for bear-1 t! iug so long with the whims and caprices j of an old husband.' Ha ! it's a strange ! r world." Luke Morris nodded his head and joined the party at dinner, where he ! tried to cast oft' bis gloom, and fat.; j 1 throwing him neaikthe pretty widow, he was quiet and polite to her, almost to i the point of reserve; but through all she j could read a chivalrous respect to her | > feelings, and she knew that he had seen ! ' her interview that morning with Eob) erts. ' Directly after dinner the doctor came J 1 up smiling and asked Mrs. Hartley if ! she would take a stroll with him. She ! agreed with alacrity, telling herself that i .she would then be free of lovers; and ! they went down to the rivet's side, I 1 where, in the course of a long conversa-1 ' tion, the doctor turned it into a series ; of remarks concerning the early life of j ? the late Mr. Hartley. 1 "As good and true-hearted a man as 5 ever I knew," said theMoctor. "He was, indeed!" said the widow, ! ' and she wiped away a very genuine tear. ' | " I esteemed him us much us any man ^ I ever knew, for I think he tried Lard to ' ' atone for the past." ! ' Atone for the past, doctor?" said ' the widow, wonderingly. " Ye-es! The way he got his money,1 ! you know." 1 "Got his monoy, doctor?" cried the' 1 widow, turning pale. " What do you 1 mean ?" " Well, my dear, it's hardly worth ' j raking up; but I always thought it my i ! duty to tell you in case you felt dis' posed by a few acts of charity to try and make up for what there was wrong in it." 1 "But, doctor," she said, excitedly, * " pray explain yourself." > "There, there, don't be in a flurry," he said, taking another pinch. "No* body knows it down here; but Hartley ' used to keep?" ' He leaned forward and whispered 1 something in her ear. "Oh, doctor !" she cried, turning pale 1 1 and then bursting into tears. " What j ' | have you done? I could never be happy j 1 again if I kept that money. Oh, how | dreadful!" 'I "Hush. hush, mv dear child; what are you talking about? What nonsense. It wasn't you fauic." " No, indeed!" she saiil. " But sooner ! than keep money got in that manner 1 I'd go and perform tho raost menial! duties." t " But yon don't mean to say yon would give it up?" lie said. " Give it up? Every penny, doctor," | she said, with her eyes flashing and , cheeks flaming. " I could not keep a , shilling. I could not do it, and? Yes, j Mr. Roborts. Thanks, not now; I would rather, sit here for a while; or, no, I! will go for a walk with you, if you will have me," end darting a sorrowful, half-1 angry look at the doctor, she rose, took Frauk Roberts' arm and they strolled away. "How lovely the country is," said Roberts, before they had gone far. ' "Delightful!" she replied, dreamily. " i "I could live here forever with a ' sympathizing heart," ho said, with a sigh. "That sounds a long time, Mr. Rob} erts," she said, quickly. 4 "Ob, no," he cried, "not with you. The daya would glide by like a dream of 3 bliss." " "And what about the years, Mr. Rob* erts, when I had grown old and plain ? 7 You forget that I am your senior, and that I am not a frirl of twenty." " I forget nothing, and yet 1 know 3 nothing," he exclaimed, "only that you are the only wolnan I could love, and * | that I love you with all my heart." 1 " Indeed?" she said, langhing. " " "Why, what can there bo in me?a 1 s poor, penniless widow of thirty, to at' tract so handsome and voung a man as 1 you?" " Mocking again," he said, appealing? ly. " How you love to torture me, Julia." ? "Excuse me, Mr. Roberts; I am Julia ' only to my nearest and dearest 3 friends. "What is more, I am not mock 0 ing. What I said was the simple sober 0 truth." 3 " What! that you are a poor, penniless * widow?'' he said, laughing. 0 "Yes," she said. "From this day 3 forth a little annuity of eighty pounds a y year is all I have on which to live." 7 "You are joking with me, Mrs. Hart? [ ley," he said, iaughiag; "but why do I you tell me all this? What do yon supn | pose I care about whether you are rich '? or poor ? To me you will always bo k rich in every virtue, and now once more 13 listen to my prayer." }~ "Yes, when I have undeceived you," she said. " Mr. Roberts, it is my duty [? to let you know my true circumstances, b I feel assured that you have too gener's ous a heart to have approached me from mercenary motives." " Thank you, and bless you," he exclaimed. " It is you only that I love." " Under these circumstances, then, I d i have concluded, as I am poor and the h j handsome income I have enjoyed goes le | from me at once, that it would be un :e|just to yon to accept your generous 2, i offer to make me your wife. We will it i remain friends then, Mr. Roberts, but le that is all." a- "Do I understand you aright?" he exclaimed. it i " Perfectly," she replied. re "I shall try and bear it," he said, in a v-1 resigned tone of voice; " but never while in | this heart beats shall I cease to love yon | or to pray for your welfare, dearest Mrs. th ! Hartley." at! "Thank you, Mr. Roberts," Bhe said, 9r quietly; and somehow, instead of theii tk steps taking them farther from the m company, they began to approach then of rapidly, joining a group of ladies, ant in a few minutes Mrs. Hartley was without a cavalier.* chapter in. "I always doubted him," she said to j herself. " He did want me for my j money. Heavens, what a wretched j world it is for a man to be protesting and J , swearing as h?j did, and then to give up j j so easily as soon as he heard that I was j j penniless. Well, thank Heaven, that in j I ore escape." ! She remained very thoughtful for a , j time, for there was the other proposal; j 01 marriage she had received, the one to i j which sho had promised some day to J I give an answer. j Suppose Luke Morris, the quiet, j I thoughtful, manly student, should prove | | to lie as sordid as Frank lioberts. I As she mused upon this, hardly heed- ; I ing the babblo going on all around, she j : trembled at the glance within which she .obtained of her own feelings. It came j ! upon her by surprise that she really ! loved this quiet, middle-aged man in , ! despite of his plain features and stern j ways. "And suppose he did prove to be only ( ! a money-wooer ? Oh, it would be dread- , ! ful!" she muttered, as the tears started ; I to ner eyes. i, She had hanlly dashed them away j j 1 before she paw Morris approaching.slowly i ' and thoughtfully, and in spito of the I : suffering which she knew it would cause I lier, she made up her mind on the instant j to open the ball by telling Mr. Morris j of her altered circumstances. i "Ah, Mrs. Hartley," he said, approach- j ! ing her with his grave smile and extend- j ing his hand, "other people engross j ! you so much that it is only by chance ; ; one can get a word with you. May IV' \ He offered his arm, and trembling! ! and changing color she took it, and he I led her along the river side, both of r them being silent, for ho was thinking j ? deeply, and she was beating about for i r | words to commence what would be to ] g her now a most painful subject. I r 1 She felt that she was growing more | ^ and "moro agitated, and as if sooner than j j lose mm, to wnom sue now reanzea mat ther heart clung, she would retract her c intention of giving up her late husband's c ill-gotten store. 8 Luke Morris relieved her of the diffi- j culty of speaking bv commencing him- f self. " My dear Mrs. Hartley," he said " a j picnic party of pleasure seems an ill- j c chosen timo for speaking to you, but j g there are matters of such urgent import j e in our lives that we are compelled to i s seize any opportunity for saying what 8 perhaps may prove distasteful things." a " Yes?of course?exactly," she stam- v mered. "There," he said, turning upon her a j e grave, kindly smile, "I meant to speak I to vou in plain and simple words, and I j c find myself, old as I am, as agitated as ; some vouth. I will try and be plain." I ? "Yes," she said, quickly; "please," I j and her breath came shorter in he- I 8 agitation. ! "I have just learned some very ser- j '0 ous news." ' T "Indeed?" she said, her voice shak- j 1 ing in spite of herself. | ? "Yes. I have learned from two j s sources that your late husband's fortune j leaves you at once, and that yon will be i almost penniless. Is it true'?" v "Yes," she said, "quite; and you i j have come to say that I was not to think I j( anything more of what you asked me a ^ short time back." j j] Ho looked at her half surprised, halfI n hurt, and then smiled sadly. ^ " May I ask you one question ?" he I c said. "Yes," she replied, in a quick, sharp, j g, agitated way. " It is a plain one, but my happiness i ^ depends upon your reply, and I ask you : ^ boldlv, have you promised your hand to i ? Mr. Roberts?" jo "No!" she cried, witii her eyes flash- i ^ ing scorn, " nor to any such mercenary j ^ creature." j n "Then there is hope for me, Julia," j g he said, in a low, deep voice. month back I felt that it was presump- j a tuous to ask you, and that my senti- j Tf. ia oHll 1 uii^uio uii^uu wv imojuu^cui xv am I ^ presumption ou my part, but I cannot ^ be charged with sordid motives now, ], and I am glad that the money I looked j upon as an obstacle is no longer there. ^ I cannot offer you much more than a ^ comfortable home, but I will try and n make that home rich, Julia, with the devotion of a life." _ She panted and trembled and tried to [ speak, but her emotion choked her, and 0 so overcome was she by the different q way in which matters had turned, that n in spite of her strength of mind, she y broke into a passionato burst of hystericat weeping, and unresistingly sobbed ij herself calm upon liis breast. a Luke Morris blessed the thick clumps of bushes that hid them from the rest of ^ the company, and ho blessed the day? a Mrs Hartley's poverty?he blessed her c for letting him draw her unresistingly closer and closer to his breast, where E she sobbinglv told him that she should c only be a burden to him for life, and n finally she walked away with him, radiant and happy, and with her cheeks u and eyes telling tales. They passed Frank Roberts soon after 0 with one of the Grantby girls, a rather j, plain brunette, with a handsomd posi- ^ tion; and Roberts looked a little con- 0 scions, though he need not have troubled himself, for the blush on Mrs. Hartley's cheek was called forth ^ now, not from meeting him, but on account of meeting th6 old doctor, who j, looked curiously from one to the other, j. "May I tell him, Julia?" whispered g Morris. I "Yes." | "Doctor, Julia Hartley has iiromisod to be my wife," said Morris, j quietly. * j. "Has she?" ciied the old man, and j 0 his scarred, wrinkled face lit up witli a | broad smile. " I'm glad of it. Julia, [ my child, I'm glad of it, for you've q won a true, sterling man for a hnsband; and as l'or you, Morris?oh, I'm ashumed of you ?3 011 mercenary dog." "Mercenary? I mercenary," ex-i c | claimed Morris. " Well, come, that is j good. Why, you told me an hour ago | j that Mrs. Hartley's fortune was gone." " To be sure I did." " And it is quite right," eaid Mrs. I Hartley. "At least it will be gone." I " Not it, my dear," said the old doc| tor, chuckling. " That was a dodge of ^ mine to try for you which *of your lov- , ers was worth ' having. It was my < touchstone, and you eeo it showed you 1 : at once that Roberts was' base metal, j ^ and Morris here true gold." " But do you mean to say, doctor,' i cried the; lady, "that what you said j about Mr. Hartley's propertv was uu-1 true?" j j "Every word of it, my dear." s " Then you are a base, cruel, wicked j r old man; if my poor dead husband, j I whom you called your friend, could i ( know how you defamed him?" " He would slap mo on the back as j he used to do, my dear, and call me his . true friend for securing by a trick a! j genuine honest man for his wife, in- i 1 stead of a heartless, mercenary scoun-' drel; and, God bless you both, 1 wish i t you joy." j f Mrs, Hartley only exclaimed "Oh!" j | and when tho doctor pressed her hand ' j | she evidently forgave him, for she j 1 i pressed his warmly in roturn. But ] ! when Frank Roberts found out tho ; < 1 truth, ho was furious, and called the j ] doctor a bad name, that perhaps it (1 ! would be as well not to mention here, 1 while he said it again for the benefit of 1 1 Luke Morris on the morning when he ' | led the pretty widow to church to I change her name. The Two Ways. When we pick a person to pieces, pose his follies, criticise his maimers, 1! question his motives and condemn his j actions, we are making, not the best, but the worst of him. If, on the con-1 trary, wo search for his good points and > bring them to the front, if we make all II allowance for his faults and errors, | and withdraw them as c ich as possible from the notice ofoth6* we are making 1 I the best of him, both in appearance and I reality. In shielding his reputation we >! are preserving for him the respect of I j others, which goes far toward promotII ing his own Belf respect. THE NIHILISTS. One'of Thom DcncribcH the Attempt to Blow 8 Up the Cznr. The New York Herald contains a long communication from Leo Hartmann, a h Nihilist, now in this country, describing a; the mining of the Moscow railroad and tl the attempt to blow up the czar. In ti that enterprise lie was assisted by Sophie b Perov.sky, who has since been executed; b Goldenberg, who committed suicide in b the St. Petersburg fortress, and others. The work wai prosecuted under many ci difficulties, and once they barely cs- p caped discovery by the mine caving in in s] the middle of the' street during a heavy fi rain storm. They were unable to push tl it as far beyond the track as was neces- b nnvv tha Rnrmlv nf dynamite was not as b ,vv~v' j ?~ ~"ri?j ?- --?/ large as it should have been. On the g: night before the explosion the conspira- o: tors celebrated it with a bottle of wine, fa Hartmann describes the scene as fol- ol lows: cl "The windows of our house are closed E and covered by thick draperies, leaving p' ao chink through which a treacherous ai ray of light might crecp. Around the ti dining-table eight persona are seated? pi seven men and a youne: woman, Sophie in Perovsky. Two members of the admin- n] istrative council, on their way from the ni South to the capital, ar* our guefcts for sc to-night. In the middle of the table ci sight daggers are stuck crosswise into di the boards. Eight revolvers lay under- gi aeatli. By the side of this pile a lurid ta 3ame?alcohol, with salt?burns, casting i ghastly, unearthly light on all the pa mle, emaciated figures sitting around in ;he table. The effect*of this flame may uj ;ruly be called horrible. It gives to the ca ace a li-nd hue as that of a corpse. We cl rnd naturally suffered much by our qt nining work. Onr faces wore deeply re urrowed with wrinkles?the sleepless ex lights, the constant anxiety and pus- sb jense had left their marks on ns. And ro low, in that ghastly light, the table ns :eemed to be surrounded, not by living in r>pji. lint, hv cornses who had risen frora he grave for a midnight festival. The sic nstruments of death before us, the co leathly hue of our faces?all this spoke P* if the grave; only the eyes gleamed and m< [littered with a greenish light, perhaps be till more ghastly to look at than the ch mmovablo corpse-like paleness of the sh aces. tii " The flame burned unsteadily, sen ding mi ong, dancing shadows on the walls and th eilings, and this added still to the rei [hastliness of the picture. I shut my su yes and distorted my face into the ame horrible, convulsive grimace I had pa een on the face of my friend Oeinsky flu nd three others whose hanging I had th witnessed. w " ' That is how I will look, then !' I a 1 xclaimed. , Tl "'Stop that!' cried my neighbor, dii lenching my arm. ' It is too horrible.' all " Seeing what impression our ghastly A1 experiments' produced on the others, be was involuntarily caught myself by the th< ame feeling. The wine was poured out u*o the glasses, we drank to the success pi ? our plan and began in a subdued im oice our beautiful revolutionary hymn -matchless in its simple passion, in its th lowing feeling for liberty, in its deep sh orrow for the people's sufferings." sol Tiie work of firing the mine was left Pa d one whoso name he does not divulge, pr< 'hile Sophie Perovsky gave the signal, aoi n the confusion tliu.t ensued they both ift the house and repaired to quarters cle 1 another part of the city prepared for liem. The same night they took the 3 ight express for St. Petersburg and Rai 'itneSsed the arrival of the czar at the apital. tic Of Nihilism and Nihilists Hartmann abi iys: g& "Solovieff, the author of the third at- dii smpt against the life of Alexander II., 1 as unable to see an animal killed. He fro ras an uncommonly good and delicately tiv rganized man. And yet he surmounted th< is almost unconquerable aversion to &t loodshed in order to kill the czar. For vai lyself I may say that, though a good cai hot, I have al svays had an inseparable Th version lo shooting other than wild til nimals, such as wolves, vultures, mad ftt ncra nnd snnli like. But I would calmlv he nd cheerfully kill a man who treads so< rider his execrable foot 90,000,000 of Pa uoian beings, bathing in their blood. a^> 'or I consider such a man a thousand ?* imes worse and more dangerous han a wolf or a mad dog. An ani- f01 ml can kill five, ten, perhaps be wentv men, while our barbarous des- ^ec otism has destroyed thousands and se1 housands of lives and stifles tho spark f liberty and intelligence out of 'JO,- ar( 00,000 of other lives. But I hear the loral and virtuous reader remark, in our attempt to blow up the czar many ? anocent people might have suffered. Pr "hat is true. But to this we have to ho nswer?first, that us in all warfare so et( n our struggl9 against czardom, those Fo rho serve our foe are our enemies too; *ec nd secondly, that even if a few inno- f8 ent lives should perish, Ihis is a ne- *n essity which no great war, no great ya novement for the freedom of mankind ^ 1 an escape. We deeply regret thin of lecessity. But we aro deeply and ro< ratefnlly conscious of tho fact that Fo mtil now the Russian revolution lias *e? ost much less innocent victims than SP( ither similar movements. We remem- sh' ier that during tho great war which tho P? imerican nation waged for the abolition ft" f slavery, General Sherman was com- *i? lelled, by the stern necessity of war, to c^( ack the city of Atlanta, whereby hun[reds of women and children perished trc ndiscriminately. We consider ourselves hu lappy that the Russian revolution has leretofore not been stained by one "1( ingle drop of a woman'R or a child's anocent blood. air "And yet, in the eyes of many of my 8^v eaders I shall nevertheless remain a ^U1 riminal. Those readers are exceed-' co.] *> / It mnrol noKnno Tllfvtr fcVlPfl tOfirq mi u5XJ AL4V^A4AA ? iver the dreadful fate of Alexander II., on nd pass whistling and humming a ?1C uerry tune beside the misery of 90,000,100 bathed in their own blood by the aonster in human shape they mourn tai iver. They consider every attempt of S1? , people to shake off a dastardly yoke ^ riminal. "Be it so. But to those for whom *aI iberty is the true, the supreme goddess cef if their life, whose hearts throb for the e*c uffering, the struggle and the heroism dn if other nations?to those true and best nen, who are the honor, the strength ^r .nd the hope of every people, let me inf ;ddress these parting words: "What we ba: Nihilists want is liberty for our people. Ls soon as our struggle shall have reulted in a republic such as the one wo w: ind here in the United States, wo shall s^( >e the first to welcome it. "Wo shall be inspeakably happy to be at least ablo "0 lot to hate the chief of the State, our President. A republic in ics present orm does not, it ii> true, give every citi- lzt :en the full produce of his labor, does an lot banish social us well as political iuustice and inequality. But it teaches iverv man to think for himself; raises lim from the degraded state of a slavish gi' >rute to that of a self-conscious, liberty- sh n-oud citizen." lis ? p| Chinese Uesls. lij Thero aro two kinds of Chinese beds, co md both are arranged for a complete to (hutting in by means of hanging cur- en :uins and tapestry. The expensive kind T1 ;s like a sort of cage, having a flat m wooden roof, just the size of the bed fn proper, supported at a height of about nc 3ight feet from the floor on four corner m posts and two intermediate ones. Then so there is a sort of frieze or entablature th woik running around horizontally, te above and below, so that when yon .tre m in bed you arc safely penned in a t ort gi of cage, and cannot possibly tumble bf out. The carving on these beds is a sometimes very rich, and they cost tb much; but the ordinary and cheaper re kind is made of two frames of wood, ? shaped something like the skeleton of an old-fashioned " settle," which are stood up on th9 floor, facing each other. A mattress is placed on the sc projecting part of these frames, and a te couple of slight sticks across the top; pi then curtains and haDgings shut all in, ti and make it look as pretty as the taste it and money of the owner are able. In- st side there is a cotton quilt, laid on the st mattress frame. The occupant of the e: bed lies on this, having a little roll of It stuff for the head, and for covering a o< very thick cotton quilt. p PRESERVE THE HEALTH. nnltnry Prrcnutlnnn to Prevent the Spreniliiig of Infection* DlnenHcu. The New York State board of ealth jMiblishes the following memorodum of sanitary precautions against le spreading of contagious and infecous poisons, because most of them can e " stamped out," and all of them can e controlled. These rules are applicale to any locality: Cleanliness and ventilation are in all isiis and everywhere of the first im- ! ortance. The diseases which aro ! pread chiefly from pluce to place and j om person to person by means of ieir om infection or contagion r.ro to e regarded and treated as enemies, to e resisted and stamped out. The pronation of some of them with the help f local causes, seen or unseen, and the itality, as well as spread, of each one f them is increased by personal un eanliness and local unhealthfulness. 'iphtheria, measles, scarlet fever, tyhoid fever, puerperal fever and smallpox e the most pestilent of thes a infecous diseases in this State. But tyhoid fever and malignant cholera are ifectious by means of excromental atters rather than from bodily emaitions. Typhus Rpreads by its perinal contagion, and it originates among owded and uncleanly people. These iseases and all infections and contains require disinfection and all saniry precautions that prevent infection. Smallpox, scarlet fever, diphtheria or easies.?The patient should bo kept a separate room (preferably on an jper floor} from which, if possible, rpets, curtains, stuffed furniture, othing and other articles not relired for immediate use, should be moved beforehand; and no person :cept the physician, nurse or parent ould bo allowed to enter the sick om, or to touch any of the articles ed therein, until after thorough disfection. To disinfect clothing, etc., in the ?k room.?Keep in the room a tub ntaining a qnarter of a pound of sullate of zinc and two ounces of cornon salt to each gallon of water. All 'd linen, bowels, clothing, handkeriefs, etc., used about the patient, ould be allowed to soak in this solu>n for at least an hour before reoval from the room, and afterward be oroughly boiled, separate from the st of the family washing. Never send ch articles to a public laundry. To disinfect discharges from the tient.?Use the same disinfecting lid as in disinfecting clothing, but ree times stronger, or use copperas iter, made by dissolving a pound and lalf of copperas in a gallon of water. le latter answers for all excremental j ^charges, while the former is^best for j 1 articles of clothing and fnrniture. ! 1 vessels used in the sick room should i disinfected with one or other of ese disinfecting flnids, unless im;diatelv immersed in boiling water, sinfect the discharges and clothing mediately. Typhoid fever.?The poison lies in a discharges from the bowels, which ould be at once disinfected with the lution of the zinc-salt or of copperas, rticular care should be exercised to event any possible contamination of arces of diiuking water with these icharges. Bed clothing or other artiss soile d by the evacuations should be lated with the solution, and be boiled. Dysentery and cholera.?Adopt the ne regulations as in typhoid fever. Typhus fever.?Enforce free ventila>n and disinfection of clothing, as ove described. Attend to the fumi- j tion of the sick room and its bod- I ig- I To prevent the body of the patient i im spreading contagion.?In the erud-1 e diseases, especially in scarlet fever, I 3 patient's body should be annointep | least twice a day with oil, lard or j 3eline, containing about'ten grains of , :bolic acid or of thymol to the ounce, lis process should be maintained unthe bran-like scaling of the skin is auend. The zinc-salt solution should used as directed. Before again asjiating with unprotected persons, the tient should have several complet* lutions, including thorough washing the hair with soap or borax; and none the clothing worn for several days be e the disease declared itself should j again used until thoroughly disin- j :ted and ventilated in the open air j reral davs. A.void visiting houses where there i 5 any of these diseases. Occupants of 3I1 houses should Dot visit. Disinfection of houses and apartments. Fumigation with sulphur is the only j acticable method for disinfecting the 1 use, as well as furniture, bedding, I !., that cannot be steamed or boiled, r this purpose the rooms to be disin:ted must be vacated. Close the rooms tightly as possible, place the sulphur j iron pans supported upon bricks in J sh-tubs containing a little water, set ] on tire by hot coals, or with the aid a spoonful of alcohol, and keep the sm tightly closed twenty-foiir hours, r a room of dimensions equal to ten j it square, or 100 square feet of floor- j ice, at least two pounds of sulphur ! ould be used; for larger rooms, pro- | rtionally increased quantities. After | nigahon, the freest possible ventila- j n should be practiced. All woclen ! )thing, silks, furs, stuffed bed-covers, i ds and other articles which cannot L_ ! :ated with zinc solution, should Le 1 ng in the roojn during fumigath n, . sir surfaces thoroughly exposed, and sir pockets turned inside out. After-' rd tliey should be hung in the open ! ', beaten and shaken. Pillows, beds, j iffed mattresses, upholstered furni- , re, etc., should be ripped open, tho j ntents spread out and thoroughly fu- j gated. Carpets are best fumigated J the floor, but should afterward be re-1 >ved to the open air and thoroughly i ttten. Many of such articles may be iinfected in an oven -or steam-heated )k, at a temperature of from 212 de2es to 250 degrees Fahrenheit, mainned for live or six hours. Disinfection of premises, etc.?Cels, yards, .stables, gutters, privies, 5s-pools, water-closets, drains, sewers, should be repeatedly and profusely jnched with copperas solution, wi.ich easily kept ready fur use, at full i n l.otilrnf nnrfom. I uj Cb Uttoauu I-Ui-vjtixia* about sixty pounds of copperas in a L-rel of water, and renewing the supr from time to time. Corpses should be thoroughly washed Lh :i zinc solution of triple strength; j :>uld then be wnipped in a sheet wet tli this strongest disinfecting solum, and buried as soon as practicable. L\ote.?There are no substitutes for :anliness and fresh air. The deodor:ra, which are much used as disinfectts, arc deceptive. How ?o Eat .1 Watermelon,. Instruction in eating watermelon is ven by tlieBaltimore Ameri&tn, which ould be good authority, as it is pubilied in the melon region. The hotel an of cutting a watermelon like a tu), and putting a lump of ice in it, is ndemned, because ice should never nch the pulp; bnt a burial of the unit melon in ice for two days is wise, jen cut lengthwise and eat between oals. "People deal unjustly with this nit sometimes by ealing a hearty din r (irst, and then topping olT with a t-lon, and then if a moral earthquake is up in the interior they charge it to e melon. The watermelon was innded as an episode?an interlude?a >m:in<*e without words?a nocturne in eom and red?not to bo mingled with icon and greens. Its indulgence leaves certain epigastrial expansion, but lis is painless and evanescent. The rnedy is to loosen the waistband and -take another slice." Money Well Spent, The urgent necessity of providing >me substitute for the apprentice Bj3sm, which has, in a large measure, issed away, has given rise to the creaon of a good many technical schools i Great Britain. The movement is imulated by a recognition of the iperior opportunities of instruction sjoyed by German artisans, and by th :ct that England iB no longer able to Dmpete with Germany in several deartments of skilled industry. / jy ; I?0R THE LADIES. Reappearance of the Iloopnklrt. A ripple prevalent on the surface of fashionable society is occasioned by the question whether crinoline is to be or not to be. American modistes, merchants and society leaders are far from beiijg in accord regarding it, and to-day the hoopskirt, crinoline, fardingale, or by whatever name it may be called, neems to occupy a position in the doriain of fashion not unlike that assigned to Mohammed'n coffin. Yet the guess may be ventured that the reappearance of this article of dress in a modified form, and shorn of its exaggerated proportions, is only a question of time, and that in the near future it will be as universally worn as it was ten years ago. History shows that it has held its own with here and there a lapse of a decade or two, in 6pite of the merciless criticisms and the jibes and jeers of the stern 9r sex, from the days of Elizabeth down to the era of the displeasing "tilting" hoop. The amplitude of crinoline as worn in this country at that period was a serious objection to its use. It was also rightly urged that women occupied more than her proper share of space in the world, monopolizing all the room in railroad cars, on the pavement ami in home and social circles, and "help" in the kitchen made herself in more senses than one "too big for her place." The hoopskirt, if made in moderate proportions, is an accessory of dress most agreeablo to the wearer. Aside from the question of taste and fashion, it is promotive of health and comfort, and relieves women of many grievous burdens and resulting ills due to the oppressive weight of the many skirts usually worn in the absence of crinoline. In England the hoopskirt appears to be less in vogue than it was early in the season. This is no doubt largely due to the example of the English princesses, who speak of it as "that hideous invention." But despite the disfavor with which it is regarded in the royal household and by leaders of fashion here and elsewhere, its reinstatement as an indispensable article of dress may bn confidently predicted.? New York Evenivg Post. Fanhlon Notes. Black watered silks are combined with plain silk for autumn wear. A very handsome fan is of dark red silk with sunflowers painted upon it. Long, loose matinee sacks are made cf dark cashmere, trimmed with throo lines of gold braid. An Italian straw shepherdess' hat has a largo bow of pink moire ribbon and a tuft of rosebuds. Parrots' and doves' heads encircled with brilliants are a favorite decoration on bonnets and for the hair. Broad linen collars worn with gingham suits are embroidered with a narrow vine or dots to match the dress. The Princess of Wales seems partictdarly addicted to "polka spots," and this makes them quite popular this season in muslins and mulls. Handkerchiefs are of blue, pink or lilac, with the name embroidered in script. Others are of ecru linen, with a whip, horseshoe or other sporting emblem. Young ladies wear their hair in ropelike coils flat on the back, so broad they extend toward the ears and knotted mysteriously at the top, whence they project over the head. English fashions are gaining year by year greater weight in feminine attire. They have always been authority on tailor-made garments, but now their j anthrtvif.v in Hnrpn.fiinc to other denavt T- O ?r I ments of dress. With riding habits are worn plain Byron collars of white linen, with a small knot of flowers fastened at the throat and the handkerchief is tucked in the front of the dress, showing a small corner of it. One of the most beautiful toilets worn at Saratoga was of heavy Spanish lace, black and beautifully embroidered in gold thread. With this was worn a superb Brazilian topaz necklace and bracelets, and a topaz aigrette clasped the golden plumes in the large Reubens hat. The Newspaper in a Farmhouse. People who live near the great thoroughfares, where thev have access to two or three dailies and a half dozen weeklies, do not fully appreciate the value of a newspaper. They como, indeed, to look upon them us necessities, and they would as cheerfully do without their morning meal ad their morning mail. But one must be far off in the country, remote from " the maddening crowd," to realize the full luxury of a newspaper. The farmer who receives but one paper a week does not glance over its columns hurriedly, witn au air of impatience, as does your merchant or lawyer. He begins with the beginning and reads to the close, not permitting a news item or an advertisement to escape his eye. Then it has to be thumbed by every member of the family, each one looking for things in which he or she is ; most interested. The grown-up daughter looks for the marriage notices, and is | delighted if the Editor has treated j them to a lovo story. The son who is : just about to engage in farming, with j an enthnsiasm that will carry him far in j advance of his father, reads all the crop j reports and has a keen eye for hints J about improved modes of culture. The : younger members of the family come in for the amusing anecdotes and scraps of fun. All look forward to the day that : shall bring tlio paper with the liveliest j interest, and if by some unlu?ky chance j it fails to come it is a bitter disappoint- j ment. One can hardly estimate the j amount of information which a paper j that is not only read but studied can ' cany into a family. They have, week j by waek, spread before their mental j vision a panorama of the busy world, } its fluctuations and its coneorns. It is j tbo poor mnn's library, and furnishes as I much mental food as ho has time to consume and digest. No one who has | observed how much those who are far j iTray from tho places where men most | congregate value their weekly paper j can fail to join in invoking a blessing 1 on tho inventor of this means of intel- ! lechml enj oymen t.?Cadctr Rapids R" j publican, Every .Man Wis Onn Doctor. Many a man who, if his horse or cow j is sick, sends at once for the veterinary ' practitioner, will run the risk of pre- j scribing for ailments of his own that are on the face of them quite as serious I and as much in need of professional j treatment. He wjll take the advice of an ignorant I neighbor as to what is " good for " an \ illness, when ho would laugh at tho j idea of going to the same person for ; counsel in any other business or con- j corn whatever. In the days of our ; grandmothers, when the household j materia medica consisted of "roots and yarbs," with a fesv simple drugs like epsom salts, this domestic or "lay" prescribing was less dangerous than in | these latter days when concentrated i and powerful agents have become so j common and familiar. The household remedies of the olden time were rarely liable to do much harm, even if they did no good. Tho cure was generally in reality left to nature, though tho "roots and yarbs" got tho credit of it. But most of the drugs of our day are not of this inert or negative character, and the danger in their use by tho ignorant is a real or serious danger. Tho most powerful medicines that unprofessional people of a former generation ventured to fool with bore about the same relation to those in vogue tbat gunpowder does to nitro-glycerine; yet the latter are used even more recklessly than the former ever were. A little knowledge is not always a dangerous thing, but when it leads a man to think that he can "doctor" himself, in ailments of any serious nature, the old and often-abused proverb is indisputably true.?Journal of Chemistry, An enterprising book publisher is about to issue the Oomet Series. It will be deyoted to tales. POSTAGE. The Different RrUen to Different Countries" An Interesting Table. The figures give postage in cents. Where the italic c is nsed, matter must Re be prepaid. When the a is used, additional postage is charged on delivery. an Employment of both letters means com- 111 pulsory payment and additional charge. The quoted rate is on each half ounce: so Africa 5 Jamaica 5 Algeria 5 Japan 5 th Argentine Con fed ... 5 Liberia 5 an Ai-pimvnll, c 5 Madagascar, c 23 or Australia, c a 5 Maderia Islands 5 T Austria 5 Malta 5 ~ Azores ...... 5,Martinique 5 Bahamas 5 Mexico 5 Belgium 5;Morocco, cfl 15 Bermuda 5 Mozambique 5 V( Bolivia, c a 17 Natal 15 wf Borneo 5 Netherlands 5 jq] Brazil 5 Newfoundland 5 _a B. Honduras 5 New Grenada, ca... 5 Buenos Ayres 5 New Zealand, c 12 co Lturmah 5Nicaragua, ca...... 5 aci Canada, c. 3 Norway 5 of Canary Island 5 Panama, c a 5 1* PoMmin-r nn 17 I 1 Ceylon 5Patagonia, ca 27 lai Chili, ca 17Persia 5 aa China 5 Peru 5 . , Costa Rica, c a 5 Phillipine Islands... 5 ^ Denmark 5 Poland 5 tul Ecuador 5!PortoRico 5 pa Egypt 5 Portugal 5 tri Falkland Islands 5 Roumania 5 eaj Fiji Islands, c a 5.Russia 5 Finland 5 St. Helena 27 ?r< France 5(St. Thomas 5 ari French Colonies..... 5 Salvador 5 stfl Gennany S.San Domingo 5 S0] Gibralter 5;Sandwich Islands, c. G Gt. Brit, fc Ireland.. 5 Scotland, c. 5 Greece 5 Servia 5 A.E Greenland 5 Shanghai, c a 5 of Grenada 5 Siam, c 10 ^hl Grey town, ca 13 Spain 5 ^ Guadaloupe 5 Sweden 5 , Guatemala, c a lOjSwitzerland 5 Guiana 5 Tripolis 5 till Hayti, ca 5 Tunis 5 fch( Holland 5 Turkey 5 CQ1 Hondurns 5 Uruguay. 5 ^ Hungary 5 Venezuela 5 l^a Iceland 5 West Indies, a 13 an India 5|Zanzibar, c 5 en Italy 5| Capturing a Bear. It will be remembered that a sad and *n fatal accident occurred at Madison a c?: few years ago, by a team being fright- 816 ened at a performing Frenchman and a grizzly bear, and that it cost tne city a good deal of money to settle the costs. *c Other towns resolved that they would P1' not have any more bear performances inl in the streets. There was no town thaf ?P was loaded forbears, after that accident. a ( any heavier than La Crosse. Tho a? Mayor, Joe Clark, was red hot, and ho c" told the Chief of Police, Hatch, never asi to allow a man with a performing bear m" to come into the town. Hatch didn't m' want anything better than a bear fight, m< and he said he should smile to see a m' Canadian Frenchman get up a bear cr' dance in that town, as long as he walked 80 tho streets. When the new Mayor, ^ Smiley, took the office, he had only one * ' order to give the police, and that was to j?r keep an eye out for bears. There was consternation in La Crosse on Tuesday, when a boy came up to the police office ^_? I and said there was a man down town iU j with a performing bear, and Hatch spit ^i j on his hands and told Pernue Clark to j follow him. The bear was hitched to ? ! the hind axle of a wagon, and the owner 80 j was in a saloon taking a drink. Hatch j*1 said he would go in the saloon and cap; turo the man. and told Pernue to bring J? I the bear right up to the station. Pernue ac i didn't exactly like the way the thing an was divided up. and he suggested that J maybe be had better go in after the man, and let Hatch take the bear, as he was ie.( an old boar hnnter, but Hatch said the man was a desperado, and he'd better an surround him. So Hatch went in and 80 got the unresisting Frenchman, and m( tarted oil, telling Pernue to hurry up a ' with the bear. Pernue is a man that, if ^r< he wanted a bear, had rather hire a man 9? to go after it, but the eye of the chief : was ou him, and he walked up to the an j bear and took hold of the chain and e.c ! said, "Come along, Mr. Bear." The ^ ! bear reached up one claw and took hold ne of Pernue's clothes about the small of j tho buck and closed his claws and i twisted a little and there was about a ^h j pound of coat tail and pantaloons cloth ka : and shirt that all came off together in a ^ie i wad, and with a pale face Pernue A. started up towards the lockup to help he ; Hatch hold the man. He overtook an them as they arrived at the calaboose, "1 and Hatch asked him why he didn't T1 bring the bear, and he said he came up yi to lind out of the Frenchman what the *8 bear's name was. He said he never ?ei could take a bear if he didn't know its *Dl name. Ho put on a rubber coat to ne cover tho place where the bear stepped *r( on him and by this time Sam Campbell and Dave Littlejohn, the other police- .pb men, had arrived, and they all went $7 down after the bear. The boys made a mi good deal of fun of Pernue's clothes, and St Sam said the way to handle a bear was *n to look him right in the eye and par- be alyze him. Pernue said he would let *s Sam paralyze the bear, but before he th got him paralyzed on more than one hi: side the bear would rip all the clothes be off him. Arriving at the wagon, Hatch ari said he would stand on the wagon m( tongue, and hold it down, and they et< could surround the bear. The bear was let laying in the sand asleep, and they got by all around him, and were just going to th nnnnpo nn ln'm wlion lie rnsft nr> and Ul( the air seemed full of bears. The air an; seemed fairly fixed. With one paw he to grabbed Campbell by the slack of tho sc^ trousers, and with tho other ho clawed on Littlejohn on the shoulder, and he Ge ripped their clothes scandalous, while to Pernue got behind a dry-goods box and to Hatch held on to the wagon tongue. ?J The bear 3tood up on his hind feet with both forepaws full of blue flannel cloth- ^ ing, and the police held a counsel of war ?h; 011 the wagon tongue. Finally they all rei got hold of the wagon and hauled it to a01 the lockup, the bear following, uud then Th they gave the Frenchman his liberty and fi?' three dollars if ho would take his bear an< L o?i1 f ho loaf, fliov X lj ilLUl ^t't Ullb ?J1 uuu tuu amuv . saw of him ho was going towards Winona, locked arms with the bear, laughing, and the police went to a tailor shop o seo if it would cost more to mend ftv( heir clothes than it would to get a new on cuit. Now they get together evenings gor and talk over the bear business, and aQ( Hatch asks them why they did not oblor- ere oform the bear, and use some judgment. ? Peck's Sun. gj.jj otfc The Belle of St. Louis. C0I The belle of St. Louis is in trouble "d? again. The last time she was heard the from sho was about to bring a suit for Th breach of promise against Mr. Tilden, sou we believe, but was fiually persuaded to at discontinuo it on the ground that she oxl didn't know Mr. Tilden and he had the never heard of her. Now she has been wn flirting with an actor belonging to an tw< opera conipmy. and according to his but story exchanged letters and photo- Th graphs with him. Tlev brother and his she friend invited the actor to meet them, of; gave him a thrashing, made him give up wh her photographs and undertook to per- suade him that he had been fooled by anr the .voung lady's laundress who had cor personated her mistress. But the actor ma declined the honor and stuck to his wa: story. The belle of St. Louis is now em out of town awaiting developments.? on< Free Press. foe ?? Wfl Heavy Gambling. as " What is the biggest winnings you j"1 ever knew of ?" I asked of an experienced New Yorker. "I have heard many fabulous stories," . 1 said he, " but I will speak only of what I know. J saw Ben Wood, former pro- J15-3 prietor of the Daily New, one night at a game of faro, a game made up of u gamblers, win S125.000. Ho borrowed 82,500 from Judge McCann to begin on, and he went away with every pocket ] stuffed with checks and bills. The cigar seller in the gambling rooms told 8Uj me that Wood that night smoked $70 iar worth of cigars." flC( "That is impossible." " A fact, I assure you. He took cigars < costing about $1 each, and lighting one sta end began in his nervous way to eat tho to other, and in about two minutes he hii would take a fresh one "?Correspondent hii St. Louis Republican. Btt The women who fold the Parisian ah dailies receive from ft] to 81.20 a night, pi, SCIENTIFIC NOTES, Int At last there is an effort making to y telegraph wires underground. The xh ng-suffering character of the American ople could not be better illustrated An, an by pointing to the hideous poles d wires that are permitted to disfig- Tw e the streets of our great cities. a P It is probable that very soon the 8 uthern part of the Territory of Utah 8 11 supply enough of antimony for i is country, and render unnecessary g y importation of that substance. The e, mined abont 140 miles from Salt Th( ike City, yields from sixty to sixtye per cent, of antimony. Tas Drs. N. Gerber, P. Radenhausen, H. >gel and L Janke recommend to iigh rather than measure milk sub- " itted for analysis. For the determi- ^ ' tion of the dry matter they prefer to 1 agulate the milk with alcohol or etic acid and dry without the addition k sand. ^ g The transportation of monoliths of ge size on rollers is by no means new, stri Lieutenant-Colonel Woodthrope has Id the London Anthropological insti- In( te, on March 8, in a very interesting per on the Nangami Negas, one of the So bes inhabiting Assam, on the north- Stri 3t frontier of India. These people It i ;ct long blocks of stone, which are To awn up to the heights on which they s ind, to commemorate the dead or s me notable event, "on sledges run- j ig on rollers." In some respects the g igami differ from the other hill tribes the district. They are better looking in their neighbors; they build their us^s on the ground and not on piles wood?the Khasias alone besides imaolTOq ft/lnnfc t.his rvranfcicn?and I I 5y wear a kilt adorned with white ' aries, wbile all the other tribes of "j? gas wear only a flap of cloth in front d behind, or discard the behind part tirely. his cec A Philanthropist's Mail. i Mrs. Elizabeth Thompson, the wellown philanthropist of New York, is cm nstantly beset by applications for as- ver itance from all parts of the country *0^ d for a bewildering variety of ob- the jts. In an interview with a New >rk reporter, 6he thus describes one ? jrning's mail: This is my morn- pro sfs mail, you see, and the first letter I nig ened was a request to buy a bell for Th: jhnrch not a hundred miles away. I Am 1 daily appealed to for money to build Cir urches, buy bells and organs, or I 9ist clergymen to means for a few tac Dnths' vacation, or to increase their hui sager salaries, till I am lost in amaze- doi snt. I wonder why there are not was oro communions in one, why so many (di eeds, why so many empty pews and sot few practical advantages! Now I Jat< ilieve in churches and the sacraments; < kAlinra in oil fViaf. i'a nacantinl fn fV>n owth and exaltation of humanity, ^oa it I cannot for my life comprehend ?? o necessity of so many different CM iys of worshiping and honoring onr a ^ aker, and the necessity of so many gj] fferent routes to heaven. I believe jan at greater good on earth and honor to ^ is holy name would be attained if ft ^ me of these numerous churches were g^( rned into school-houses or workshops, ist look over the pile of letters and u will find applications for means to complish all sorts of things. Here is application for a contribution to lild a church in Arkansas costing ^h< 0,000, which, if I grant, I am prom-. ' id that the name and the amount i? ?en are to be engraved on a tablet tru d placed in the church. This is a ] licitation for money to publish a jdical book, which the writer says is ev( gigantic benevolent work." This is , >m the financial agent of a Western liege. He says : "I desire you to en- R 1 y with us the luxury of building up d sustaining it. We need a larger dowment and new building?would ^ ;e the pleasure of giving you a promint place in the history of the college." This letter is from a woman asking r $200 in cash, or, if she cannot have ' at amount, $26, to enable her hus- an< nd to join the Odd Fellows, when, if mt gets sick, he will receive benefits, wa man in Chicago writes and says that i : wants $4,000 to buy a grocery with, ly ; d that if he had such a start he could 8ta nanago to support himself and family." pC; lis one i3 from Missouri. A physician j th a familv and an income of $1,200 ^ in need of surgical instruments, and quests me to send them at once. He ' closes me a long list of articles that I 1 ver heard of before. Here is one )m a temperance lecturer, who invites 1 3 to aid him in the broad field of ] lilanthropy, by sending him about Jar 5 worth of illustrated views. And a ant irried lady from city, in this cai ate, writes to ask, "would I be so kind of my gracious goodness to provide ou r with pocket monov, as her husband sp< one of those kind of men who it; inks more of his money than of of s family, consequently keeps a tight pil ild upon hiB purse-strings." Then here th< 3 a dozen or more solicitations for ey< )ney to start or sustain newspapers, a p ad infinitum et ad nauseam. These ria ,ter applicants are easily disposed of ho* filing their letters. Not so with On ose who are within personal reach of wit i. They come. And if by chance I she i induced to give aid or even audience the one of those who have a request or a stu leme to benefit mankind, I am at pai re possessed of an affliction worse to brc t rid of thau the neuralgia. To give, cril assist, to investigate and then refuse tall continue, is to be just like a woman the ivh itover that means. But after all to i d and done, to become disgusted ne3 1 *? ? ^V\rt/inncn T til irjllig IU UU guuu, ugvaiwv wuu j, ject benefited is unworthy is to of ider charity a worldly calculation, anc 1 not the impulse of a grateful heart, "si at a fellow-creature suffers is suf- lik< ient reason for us to try to aid him, bar 1 the remembrance of that act is, ' ielieve, imple recompense. firs ? 1 The Indian Who Did It. out ii dealer in hardware on Jefferson , 'nue has had a strawcutter standing , the walk in front of his store for <( ne days past to catch the public eye, , 1 yesterday forenoon two boys discov- ? id it aud had considerable sport feed- (l ; papers under the knife. They were , il at work, one at the wheel and the lt ler feeding all the old papers he , lid find, when along came three Cani Indians with something less than a . msand baskets hitched to them. ey were evidently father, mother and , i, and when they saw the strawcutter ? work thoy came to a dead halt and . libited great curiosity to know how 6 old thing chewed up papers in that SUP nner. After some conversation be- . * ?en them the Indian put down his *? ikot and made a closer inspection. e boys fell back to give him a fair * ?w, and as he pickcd up a long strip paper the squaw began turning the w.y eel in about 4 6 time. p * The machinery worked beautifully, ? I a grin of quiet delight had just _ nmencod to spread over the red * n's face when the end of the paper 3 reached and the knife sliced off the . 1 of his forefinger. There was jast 3 howl, accompanied by a jump three sa7 t high. When the Indian landed he Pe^ s as silent as the grave and as straight an(cj a beanpole. He looked from his ger to the strawcutter and back, took ai the general laugh from the sidewalk W1j :hout giving himself away, and with k * dignity of a sultan he walked over his baskets, resumed his load, and ai relied off with his wounded hand in . i pocket and his nose set on a bee- ^ fl for home.?Detroit Free Press. ,,, ____ : fcho I sto A Tied Wrist. ! an< Boys are too often cured of bad judg- ran ;nt by a melancholy example, or bj i aro Tering for it themselves. The Merii- inv i (Y?7is.) Lender relates a sad and fatal ( art iident that-will suggest carefulness to I ch< who read it. ! wit George Ives, a boy twelve years old, ! the irted t j ride one of his father's horses tbn water with the halter fastened around Mr } wrist. The horse ran away with for m, throwing him off, and dragging m on the ground and. among the f imps, crushing his head and one arm Sa: nost to a jelly. He. was alive when qu: eked up, but died in a few mtnut?B, : He / v ? ? Mowing. o the fields both young and old With gay hearts went; o pleasant fields, all green and golil, All [flowers and scent d first among them old man Mack, th his two grandsons, Harry and Ji'cl;0 eager boys whoso feet kept time es'less fashion to thi-s rhyme: lharpcn the scytlio and bend the bac!?, 1 wing the arm for an even track; 'hrough daisy blooms and nodding gruw Itraiglit and clean must the mower pass. " are are tasks that boys must leam, n.it found iSwg In any book? !ka on the harvest and haying ground, , By wood and brook. en I was young but few could brinj tho field a clcaner swing. t you must tako my place to-day, ; tho grass and scatter the hay, o sharpen the soy the and bend the back, wing tho arm for an even track; JjaK Tirough daisy blooms aud nodding yragn XjB traight and clean must the mower p:u>?. ?$jj ?? . jr. night and clpan is tho only way? You'll find that out? ather things than cutting hay, I make no donbt. be sure through the nodding grass light and clean with yonr scythe to pass; :J\ e far bet lor than any play mow tho grass and toss the hay, . v.^HJ 0 sharpen the scythe and bend the b.ok, $? wiug the arm for an even track; hrongh daisy blooms and nodding grasa traight and clean must tho mower paw.' . . >&a ?Harpers' Young Futk3^^ +' HUMOR OF THE DAY. |H Sow is it that the dresses ladies KrjKwfjM wear out are mostly worn indro's V-BH M it and Wisdom. /^IwB Che milkman evidently looks nj< battered quart as a meaiaiiL^M W momy.?Boston Transcript. V morning paper remarks facetfs^H t " No man likea better to sit& *UE itomera than the 'butcher. BNI^PSh sa, it mat W$?titarfc?cHiliat there arB||g 3 of customers who don't like to rr-r0Bjjr!l iir butchers.?Louisville Courier 1 Chicago woman caught- a bnrgiaiHjira .wling around in her back jar-1 ht and threw him over a high fenco.Mggg is seems to confirm the theory tliatf^B itrican women are growing stout.? icinnati Saturday Night. i Leadville man in one week was zfc ^ ked and scratched by a catanount, > rt by an explosion, had a boulder roll ^g| xn on lilm and stave in two run. a a 3 kicked by a mule. And a !o \Y tor remarked that he had "b i-n aewhat annovod by circum.-tauces 3ly." ,M 'Bill! hey Bill! yer daddy waLta 1!" " What does he want with ma?" ,ra Bill, waist deep in the river. luess he wants to make ye a nice le," howled Jack; "he's trim mi n* off ;;.v ickory stick abont three foot long." J, merely remarking that he is not ae and does not need a cane to swim ' _.v! ;hu strikes ont for a sand island abont inndred yards from the Burlington kga >r e.?Bawkeye. WISE WORDS. The chains which cramp us most are-.v/rSj )8e which weigh on us least. The only amaranthine flower on earth' virtue; the only lasting treasure, Prefer loss before unjust gain; it brings grief but once, and this fo*^?0 tfone are so invincible as half-witted Dple who know just enough to excite >ir pride, but not so much as to cure" sir ignorance. [nsult not misery, neither deride in- 'lp oiity, nor ridicule deformity; the first 3W8 inhumanity, the second folly, and?^? i third pride. ? Fhere is a gift that is almost a blow, i there is a kind void that is rai licence; so mncu is taere in uia y we do things. JVhen the heart is pure, there is hard- -jjgl anything that can mislead the under- Ti nding in matters of immediate rsonal concernment. Misfortunes are moral bitters which ' ^ en restore the healthy tone of the nd after it has been cloyed and sick3d by the sweets of propriety.' ^1 ^ady Artists on a Lark in Maiiio. /flj Life had quickly settled into regu- ' ity. Every^norning sketch books W i easels, paint boxes and palettes ;v^J ne out; the girl* broke up into groups two or three, and started out in van- '? s ways to work.. Not a picturesque VSj 5t but had sketchers encamped abpttf > a dilapidated ?et of bars, the scorif*'.^5S cows but the delight of an &rlisfr; a e of rocks in an orchard, the thorn in ? flesh to a farmer, who ptared open- -j ;d to find it attractive to somebody; iath through the woods; or a luxu- jja nt group of tall ferns. The neighbor- *jfS 3d was an unworked mine of wealth., e could not turn in any direction- hout seeing a charming spot that ' oS s longed to carry away with her, and ?v i only regret of the enthusiastic-' dents was that each one Lad not twOf TV/f^j rs of hands to work with. Dinner a mght them all home, and then came -'i :icism, comparison and much pleasant > . ^ k over canvas and paper, ending?in * i Lark's Nest?in nailing the studies 4 the wall, and making ready for the ' ct day's work. Before long some of the daily needa % cnrlish humanity became pressing, *;-:y I a party was made tip to visit the 5'3j ;ore " of the neighborhood?a barn- % ? place, with drugs and dress goods, dware and groceries, all in one room. '?:^j 'Have you straw hats?" asked the ^5 A t girl. 'he clerk was sorry, but they were iS of hats. ' What! no hats in a chorns from party who had been seized with an { ' jition for broad-rini hats. I should like some shoe-buttons," an the second. 'hese, alas! they never kept. What! no shoe-buttons?" in ono ith again. Please show me somo ribbons, ke up the third. he clerk regretted to say that rijtK s were not in stock. What! no ribbons?" cried rus, in dismay. Writing paper, if you please," cried fourth, sure that hbe at least, could ply her wants. he clerk was embarrassed. Hh began - 'V have a horror of the chorus, and itated whether he had better slip out " i back door and let Lis inquisitors-;*-^ I out for themselves his (stock, or ither he had better lauj?h. He dejd on the latter just iu time, for '% *3 ;gv began: I want some rye flour for sunburn." 'A 'he man shook bis head. 1 What! no rye flour ?" 'lip had been looking about, and see- '?? ' potatoes, a thought struck her. 441 , girls," she beg.iu, in eager whiss, " now we're out herein the woodn, J 1 no callers, we might eat?onions !" ' Onions! onions!" whispered one I another. " Delightful! so we -9 i!" m II love onions!" cried Clip; and, ??] ning to the amnsed shop keeper, ied: " Please send us up a bushel." .'he man laughed, Out again he shook head. ' What! no onions ? Oh!' and,, -vl 'roughly disgusted with the country re, the party went out in search of )ther. After that, whenever in their ables, which extended for many miles und, they came near to a store, they ariably went in and asked for those icles, expressing their surprise in ." rus as at first, and always ending ;h the demand for oDious, which, by > way, tliev were never able to g^t in i land of farms and garden*, th uigh 8. Duncan offered tone;i<l to Portland them.?H'erper's M<vjaei?e. ?? Stone coffins occur among tue Anglosons as early as 695, and,were not ite obsolete before the r?-icn of nrv VIII.