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pARBEVILLE PRESS AND BANNE3M i ~ i BY HUGH WILSON. ABBEVILLE, S. C.. WEDNESDAY, MARCH 14, 1883. NO. 39. VOLUME XXVH.lj?M B; v THE ICE KING. Since the cl ys of old a geni bold |B 9 Has reigned in the frigid North; Hto.staturc so high he reaches the sky, 9 And shakes the clouds in his wrath; His body is broad as broad may be, And he strides alike over land and sea. H When he sallies forth from his throne in the North He is clad in armor bright, MB And his shield and spear and helmet queer Shine like the stars of niuht; And woe to the foe he finds in his path, V For none may resist his terrible wrath. > Wherever he goes before him he throws K A carpet soft andjwhite, H And marshy brakesjand the rivers and lakes H He bridges in a night: And he covers the fallen in his train ? With a winding sheet of frozen rain. Hj His breath, like the breath of the tyrant E Death, R Destroys as it passes by; You may know his path by the marks of his U wrath B] On the plain and the mountain high: H He filches the warmth from the noontide Nor stops on his way till his work is done. Then he hies him back o'er the self-same track ft To his throne on the polar shore. And he places a ban on the efforts of man To cross his barriers o'er; HMHHL- And he brightens his days and illumines his nights JM With the flashing rays of the i>olar lights. ?Free Press. I ninws^ptunce. 0 It was the siege of Paris. The Em press Eugenie had fled from the Tuile ries, the provisional government had B been organized under Trochu, Paris was in a state of wild alarm and the jl i ujoiiui m iiuua v> ci c ait'auil v inaivmy their way toward the city, investing one point after another and rapidly cutting off all communication between the l>esieged ciCV and the surrounding country. Winter was coming on; food and fuel becoming scarce; business was entirely suspended; the boulevards were fdled with idle, aimless loungers, gazing with sad and hungry yes upon the long fdes of troops that marched before them. Into the quiet and aristocratic precincts of the Faubourg St. Ilonore the grim ghosts of famine and bloodshed had not made their way, and the luxurious entresol of the fashionable hotel where Ninon, the gay little Baronnede Yalcour, took her abode during the gay Parisian winter, was all alight with < sunshine. Ninon was leaning back in : her cushioned fauteuil with the toes [ of her slippers extending toward the fire, and her head thrown back wearily, looking the very personification of ennui. L " Fifino, you bother me. Go away." Fitine depart', but returns again in the space of two minutes. , t "Madame, vici monsieur." Madame turns her pretty little head : HHV- and takes a comprehensive glance at V the tall young officer in the uniform of > UK the national guard. . " The Prussians have not eaten you ; B up yet?" inquires Xinon, with a yawn ' that she does not take the smallest B pains to conceal. I " Not yet. "Would it be a great ' 5 source of relief to madame if such an B event was to take place?" HT " Rather." 9 " Don't you care for me at all, Xi nun?" B " Don't be silly, my child. Tell me ' 0 what his excellency General Trochu is H about, and when you propose to stain ] 9 that elegant uniform with Prussian j 1 ^ "Poor Paris!" The young officer 1 -sighed and shook his head. 1 "Paris is very ni'-e?all but the B Prussians; and no one is giving any ' K parties. That annoys me." H "Ninon, are you really as heartless [ fl as you seem ?" : B "Just about. "What do you want : H me to do?" 3 H " Tell me you love me, Xinon, just a B "ButI don't." H The boyish lips trembled, and a ,,-r ?... j it.?it i rgifcib ware ul dviIUW opic<Ui. over the fair, fresh countenance. Then he knelt down by her side, and a \ single tear fell on {he little hand that he stooped to ?~--?$vinon, Ninon, won't you iove ( " You are a stupid boy, and you must ^ go or I shall never eat my breakfast. 1 You are a very nice boy, Armand, but 1 you look as if you were going to cry." "Ninon!" The word sounded like a cry of pain. Then he kissed her hand again and turned to leave her. " I shall not come again, Ninon." ] Madame de Baronne disfigured her 1 pretty lips with an incredulous little ] move, and the door closed upon her 1 boyish lover. Paris Uj a state of siege?a city of < 2,000,000 inhabitants surrounded by 1 the force of a powerful enemy, and all i supplies cut ofF. The streets were (filled with a gaunt and hungry crowd i of desperate men and despairing women. 1 The sounds of distress and suffering ] began to make themselves heard even j in the luxurious quarters of the Fau- ' bourg St. Ilonore, where Ninon de Val cour wore out her days in wailing over ( the dullness and dreariness of the gay I capital. The high prices demanded for ; all the necessaries of life began to ex- | haust even the princely De Valcour revenues. The establishment must be i reduced, and Baroness Xinon awoke : out of her long dream of luxury and ; laziness to face life for the first time i seriously. 1 One among Xinon's friends was | f missing. The boyish form of the young ] officer, with his untarnished uniform i and unused sword, appeared no more among her guests. At first she smiled j at his absence, then insensibly she be i gan to watch for his coming, and as the days passed one after another, 1 Ninon grew anxious. ( It was the evening of the 24th of ( November. Ninon was sitting alone, i when a quick, hurried tread sounded , behind the chair and the clanking of a 'sword startled her. 11 Armand!" she exclaimed, as she turned and encountered the excited glance of the young officer. "Yes, Ninon! At last Paris is aroused. To-morrow will be a grand sortie. With 100,000 men we shall leave Paris, march upon Champigny? on to Villers. Ducrot has sworn to re-enter Paris onlv victorious or dead. I have come to say good-bye. Before to-morrow night Prussian ball or bayonet may have quieted forever the heart that loves you so passionately. Kiss me, Ninon, and God bless you." Ninon lifted the brown hair from " the fair young forehead; a moment her lips rested there, and she murmured. i" God bless you, my Armand!" And | - then he pressed her passionately against | his heart, and left her. lp- the morning the troops were in motion. "With stern and set determination they moved forward, looking neither to the right nor left, lest the sorrowful faces of the women they loved should unnerve their hearts and unsteady their hands. At the head of his company rode Armand de Kochecoeur. He did note turn his head, but the hand that held U the bridle rein shook as the heavy tread of his powerful horse bore him Hp slowly on beyond the gaze of the |T V bright eyes that looked down upon him. Quietly Ninon watched him go, steadily she looked after his retreating form. A soft mist clouded his flashing eyes, and as the distance hid him further from her view she murmured gently, " Armand, God watch over All day long, that terrible 30th of November, the incessant roar of cannon echoed back into the stillness of the city's streets. Paris held her heart in anguish. Outside the walls the sickening drama of battle, with all its horrid accompaniments of tumult, noise and bloodshed; inside the no less horrible torture of suspense, as those left behind waited with blanched faces and bated breath for news from the scene of conflict. Among the foremost in the strife on that terrible morning rode the boyish oflicer, Armand de Rocheca'ur. The pure blood of his Xorman ancestry coursesjwildly through his veins today. France is his life, and he would give his life for France. j'^iirjy in uio uueruoon ^nauipigiiy yielded to the passionate attack of the French troops. Amazed at their defeat, the (Jermans fell back to recover from their bewilderment produced by this almost their first reverse. Then, rallying from their surprise, reinforced by fresh troops and protected by their batteries, they fell upon the French with a sudden fury. With a wild feeling, half fury, half despair, Armand saw the line give way. " Cowards !" he muttered below his breath. Then turning suddenly to his men he cried: 41 Courage! Will you go back to your women and tell them you tied from Prussian guns? On! on! Ounqueror die like Frenchmen !" Then he rode forward; but the terrified, panicstricken men were deaf to his call, and suffered him, to go alone. With his right arm uplifted he rushed toward the Prussian line. Xinon has listened all day to the sound of that terrible cannonading, waited all night in frightened suspense for news from the scene of battle?for tidings from Armand de Kocliecceur. In the morning no word has come. Dark circles have appeared under the brown eyes and their brilliancy is all faded, gone out in that long night of watching. Restlessly Ninon paces the long salon. Finally a sudden impulse seizes her, " I will go and find him." She finds him at last. As she approached his bedside she trembles. She looks upon the white bandages that lie upon his eyes and shoulders. Then she speaks to him, and the glad smile that flits across his lips reassures her. His single hand goes out to meet hers, and he tries to speak. A warning gesture from the nurse attract Ninon's attention, and she whispers: " Do not talk, Armand; you must get well first." From an old soldier who watches over him Ninon learns the history of the sortie. As she listens to the story of how bravelv the vouner soldier bore himself on that dreadful day there is a look of newly-found happiness in the brown eyes. Suddenly they fill with tears, and her lips murmur softly, "I have found him, the prince." The sister of charity comes and whispers, gently and pityingly, "Madame, he will be blind." " Armand, my love! God help jrou!" Then she lifts her tear-stained'face, lit up with its wonderful light of love and pity, and, looking at the sympathetic countenance of the poor sister, whispers, "He shall see with my eyes." * Tho sister looks into the depth of : the lovely eyes raised to hers, and : thinks, "He is not much to be pitied, ( the brave man." Through long nights of fever and J lays of weary restlessness Ninon , watched by her lover's side, strength ' returns to the crippled body, but the j sorrowful eyes always wear that help- ( less, vacant expression peculiar to the < jlind, and the strong right arm is , represented only by an empty sleeve. J He is not forbidden to speak now; . mu one ciay as ne nears vinou s iooir : >tep by his bedside, and the soft rustle . )f her dress as she bends over him, he says: "You are always with me, ! N'inon, are vou not? or do I dream ,t ?" * ; " I am always with you, Armand." " What bring you here ?" 1 " Because I love you, dear." " Love me ? But I am a cripple md blind." "Yes, Armand. Your right arm md your eyes you gave to France. Will you give the rest to me?" "Ninon !" and the left arm, the only )ne he has, draws her quickly and passionately to his side. Her soft breath [tfay* against his cheek, and as his lips meet hers Armand, my prince, I love you."?FroirT^thv " French. How Arabi was Degraded. Tlio T.milfin Tflenrivnli. t.flls how Arabi Pasha and his companions were publicly degraded in accordance with the sentence passed upon them: The prisoners all showed themselves extremely nervous, especially Toulba, svho visibly shivered with fear. None of their English friends were present to reassure them and to convince them that they were not being led out for the hist time, which more than one of them seemed to apprehend. Arabi, Mahmoud Sami and Yacoob Sami were brought up in the first carriage, followed by Abdella, Ali Fehiny, Toulba and Mahmoud Fehmy in the second Ihey were escorted by mounted police with drawn swords. In spite of the sxtreme secrecy observed, the inhabitants were grouped along the road and a considerable crowd had [gathered at the gates of the Kasr-el-nik barracks. For the most part the onlookers preserved tue silence habitual to an Egyptian crowd. Here and there, however, there was a murmur, "God help thee." In the third?the innermost?court of the barracks, drawn up in columns on the right, were the new gendarmerie. On the left were the regular infantry. Almost the whole of the existing armed force in Egypt, except the cavalry, may be said to have been present. A few English ofticers, accompanied by Consul Moore, as the representative of Lord DulTerin, were grouped in the court. The galleries of the first lloor barracks were filled with British officers and a few ladies. Immediately upon their arrival the prisoners were led into the open space between the columns of troops, and a ring was formed round them, the subordinate officers carrying naked swords. The under secretary of 3tnte for war then advanced, and, after calling out the names of the prisoners, read aloud the khedivial decree, that their rank and decorations of every kind should be taken from them, and their names erased in perpetuity from the Egyptian army list. It was added that these decorations should be delivered immediately to the police. Mahmoud Sami ?ir>np nnswprpfl in acauiescence. The officers then led the troopers inthecry, "Long live our khedive," thrice repeated, after which the ring was broken. The prisoners were then led back to the carriages, at the steps of which an Egyptian major took the opportunity of remarking to them that they had ruined Egypt, and ought to have had their throats cut. Apart from this individual instance, noinsnlt was offered to the prisoners, nor was any evidence of hostile feeling given. At 3:15 o'clock this last act of the Egyptian revolutionary drama closed with a march, the troops playing the khedival anthem. The prisoners appeared to feel the manner of the degradation more than the actual deprivation which they suffered. They protested, nevertheless, against the assumption by the khedive of the power to divest them of decorations conferred by the sultan. General Anderson, the engineer in chief of the Northern Pacific railroad, says that trains will be running between Chicago and Portland by August rlne*t , ,_ FACTS AM) COMMENTS. The population of Manila was being decimated by cholera, says a colonial paper, when a trcmenc1 jas hurricane swept over the island and acted as a meteorological antiseptic, for on the following day not a single additional case of cholera broke out, and none have been reported since. Beyond the Mississippi river there are 1,200,000 square miles not settled by white men, and of this area 240,000 square miles, embracing much of the best land, are included within Indian reservations, while much of the remainder consists of mountainous tracts, lands inaccessible or sterile, and arid regions which cannot be irrigated. Lumber is now being manufactured from straw, the standard size being thirty-two inches in width, twelve feet in length, and the thickness the same as the average of surfaced boards. One ton of any kind of straw will yield 1,000 feet of boards that may be handled as ordinary ones. This lumber can be produced and sold in competition with wide walnut at about onehalf the price of the latter. The Xew Yorker of forethought now goes downtown attended by an ambulance and a nurse, and his wife ! keeps a room prepared after the fash- 1 ion of a hospital ward to receive him when he is brought home to her as a , victim of the gas company, or the ] elevated railway, or the steam-heating J corporations, or prostrated by an un- , expected shock of electricity, crushed by a falling telegraph pole, or burned in a fire trap of some kind. How un- , happy is the provincial! j It is estimated that there are 200,- j 000 vagabonds and beggars in the ] German empire, including thieves, ] pickpockets and other swindlers, and \ the authorities estimate the annual . loss to honest people by their opera- ; tions at the enormous sum of $25,000,- j 000. Many of these evildoers are j brought before the magistrates from i time to time, but both judges and juries are accused of administering too ? mildly even the mild laws of Germany ^ against vagabondage. The evil has , become so great that the goverment is understood to be preparing a severe ^ law for bringing scoundrels of the r vagabond class to justice. s t Mine. Xilssou, the Swedish night- a ingale, tells a reporter that she will e probably make her home in New d York. " I have really nothing to bind me to the other side of the water," she c said. "I, as you know, come from a i peasant family. I am proud of it. c My father and mother, who were Swe- a dish peasants, are both dead. I am the a youngest of a family of seven child- \ ren. Well, my brothers and sisters g are still alive. They are yet peasants, c fond of their free life and will never n change. I can understand them, but u with the change that has taken place e in me by education, musically and li otherwise, and by my iissociation in p the world, they cannot understand n me." n Some of the Southern railroad com- 11 panies have gone into the business of g raising forests, and the results are o likely to be advantageous. It has been o discovered that the moisture of the r soil in many parts of the Soutli is very fi destructive to the ties, and the creo- f soting process to protect the wood has s proven so expensive that the compa- v nies have determined to use the wood e af the catalpa and ailantus trees. s< These woods are said to be more du- v rable in a moist soil than any others b now used, and to secure a supply large ii plantations have been seeded for both t! varieties in equal proportion. Upon s the Iron Mountain road catalpa ties g have lasted nearly fifteen years. Both s trees are rapid in growth and easy of p propagation, and flourish in the moist ii soils of Missouri, Arkansas and Texas, $ They, however, are not likely to turn the prairies into sweet-smelling forests. The Journal des Mines gives an ac- r count of a most wonderful and valu- , able process just discovered at liru- ' nnn's works on the Loire. France. ^ The Journal says a lump of African [ ore, weighing thirty-two pounds, was broken up into small fragments and . placed in a crucible, and as_soQn as the VfiTT at'reu "iieat a reacting'sulT r stance was added, when, in three minutes, the liquefaction of the ore was complete. The product obtained is ? iron. All those employed in the es- f tablishment, engineers and workmen, were stupefied at the result. The acting aiibstance above mentioned cost t twenty-five cents per ton. Jiy means t of this process a blast furnace, instead of producing twenty-two tons of cast t iron every twelve hours, would turn out twenty-two tons every fourteen . miuutes, besides which the furnace | would be self-cleaned at each oper- t ation. These facts are making quite a stir in the manufacturing district of c the Loire. j, E. A. Denison, son of Lord Londes- c borough, died in Denver, Colorado, a short time ago. The career of this young gentleman was romantic and checkered. His father was a member | of the Cunningham family, but changed his name to Denison on re- t ceiving a legacy. When Lord Londesborough died young Denison's mother married Lord Fitzgerald; between him j and his step-children much ill feeling existed. At eighteen years of age the ' young man was requinvi bv his step- f father to enter the army, but this he refused to do, and ran away to I3el- ? gium. Here he was reduced to such j straits that he was compelled to dis- j pose of all his personal property, and, as a last resort, he shipped on a vessel r to Philadelphia as a cabin boy. lie landed in this country penniless, and accepted employment at picking strawberries, making from ten to twenty-live cents a day. j This means of livelihood could not last long, of course, and he was compelled j to write to his step-father for assistance, and was granted an annuity of j ?100 until he became of age. In 1881, , having reached his majority, he returned to England and obtained some . of the private fortune that belonged ' to him. While on this visit he recei ved 1 a document from a Welsh lady recom- ( mending him to all patriotic Welch- 1 men, which afterward proved of great value to him. Shortly after his return , to this country his means again became J exhausted, and in " roughing it" in the West he contracted a pulmonary . disease that eventually took him oft. . Arriving at Denver, he secured a situation as an express driver, but afterward worked on a sheep ranch. About , a year ago, being taken suddenly ill, he went to board with a "Welchman named Jones, who cared for him until his death. Grit. A lumberman broke his leg in the "Wisconsin woods and desired to go to his home at Sorel, Canada, where he could receive good treatment. But .Sorel was a thousand miles away, and he had only a few dollars. In his dilemma he resolved to travel cheaply as freight. He made a box six feet long, two feet wide, and sixteen inches high, marked it "this side up with care," and had himself nailed in and shipped. Some wide cracks gave him air and he took along a supply of food and water, lie got along very well, though not without discomfort, until he arrived in Montreal, where the bog was set up on end and the inmate left standing on his head. lie was forced to make an outcry. He had been threa^ays on the journey. WEBB FOR THE FARM AND HOME. Soil for Flowers. The trouble with many people in raising flowers from seeds is that they are not careful in the preparation of the soil. Some people plant in clay soil,* and then lay the blame on the seedsman because the seeds did not come up. The best tiling for clay soil is fine coal ashes mixed freely with the soil in the spring. Another cause for failure is that the soil is soured by angle worms. The best remedy for this is salt. Last spring I had some fine candytuft plants, and when about two inches in height I transplanted them into another bed. At first they grew very well, but the next morning I was very much surprised to see that some of them had disappeared. In dicrcrincr where thev were planted, I found that the worms had drawn the plants into their holes. I then scattered salt in the bed, keeping it away from the roots of the remaining plants. The result was that I never had such splendid flowers. From my small experience I think that one part salt to live parts ashes, well mixed, is the best thing for clay soil.?'Progressionist. CoiuUincntnl Fooil for Fowl*, There are so many different preparations now so extensively manufactured and sold in all parts of the country for poultry food, each brand claiming some particular excellence or superiority, it is next to impossible for \ novice to tell which one to take, and 3ven old breeders are equally at a loss in making a selection. Those breeders who give their birds unlimited range at all times often wonder why condimental foods are so largely bought and so generally fed by poultry feeders throughout the country; yet it is simple enough, this demand, when we remember the fowls <ept in confinement, either entirely or ;liroughout the full breeding season, ire liable and subject to disorders ind ailments, while the lack of exercise laturally begets a Sluggishness which nust, in a great measure, be overcome jy special feeding and by special food. A.ny one who is posted on breeding live itoek will readily understand this, .vhile those who are not will, ere long, jain the necessary experience. There is, no doubt, many a case vhere the use of condimental food is lot only useless, as far as good results ire concerned, but soon becomes positively injurious, the same as tonics to i sick'person are of great benefit, propTly taken, while they would prove lecidedly injurious to a healthy, igorous person. Judgment and oinmon sense must lie the guide n this matter as well as in all ither departments of successful manigement, and the exercise of both is issuredly needful when feeding stock | nth a preparation the nature or in- ! pedients of which are not fully known ir their action on the system clearly ' tnderstood. Red or cayenne pepper is ; tsed to a considerable extent by farmrs and breeders, when a mild and 1 lealthy tonic is needed. For thispuriose it is most excellent, but, like 1 nnnv nt.lipr trood things of this life. ' J 0 O' ~ ? aust be used in moderation. A weekly 1 deal of it, with the cornmeal or other ! lixed and moistened food, will do a 1 reat deal of good to the birds, both ] Id and young, whether the poultry be ' n an extended range or confined to \ estricted quarters. There are some ^ oods which are made and sold to urther special purposes, noticeably < a the "egg foods," some of 1 ,'hich are good and others decid- < dly not. Any food, however, which i erves to keep the fowls healthy and i igorous, no matter whether it is la- 1 eled " egg^food" or not, will assuredly 1 nfluence egg production, and that is i lie basis the manufacturers of such 1 applies work on when preparing their oods, and that they can and do get 1 trong testimonials from prominent i oultry-breeders is not at all surprisng to those who are posted.?Poultrj/ > lonthJrj, ] About Fnttnnlng Cnttle. ( The following is summarized from 1 eports of the experimental depart- 1 lent of the Ontario Agricultural col- 1 ?ge: 1 Most animals eat in proportion to 1 heir weight, under average condi- ' ions of age, temperature and fatness. ' Give fattening cattle as much as ( hey will eat and oft-times a day. 1 JNeyer givejrapid changes of food, 1 iut change often. I A good guide for a safe quantity of ;rain per day to maturing cattle is one lound to each hundred of their weight; hus an animal weighing 1,000 pounds nay receive ten pounds of grain. Stall-feeding in the fall will make ' he winter's progress more certain by ; hirty per cent. Give ;us much water and salt at all imes as they will take. In using roots it is one guide to give ust so much, in association with other hings, so that the animal may not ake any water. In buildings, have warmth, with omplete ventilation, without currents, >ut never under forty degrees nor iver seventy degrees Fahrenheit. A cool, damp, airy temperature will ause animals to consume more food vithout corresponding result in bone, nusele, flesh or fat, much being used o keep up warmth. Stall-feeding is better for fat-making han box or yard management, irespective of health. The crowing animal, intended for >eef, requires a little exercise daily, to iromote muscle and strength of contitution; when ripe, only so much as o be able to walk to market. Keep the temperature of the body ibout 100 degrees, not under ninetyive degrees, nor over 105 degrees Fahrenheit. Don't f -<iet that one animal's meat nay be anc <er animal's poison. It takes t..ree days of good food to nake up for one of bad food. The faster the fattening the more profits; less food, earlier returns and tetter llesh. Get rid of every fattening cattle jeast before it is three years old. Every day ;m animal is kept after )eing prime there is loss, exclusive of li an ure. The external evidences of primeness ire full rumps, flanks, twist, shoulder, pores, vein and eye. A good cattle-man means a difference of one-fourth. lie should know the likes and dislikes of every animal. | It pays to keep one man in constant attendance on thirty head of fattening | catue. Immediately when an animal begins to fret for food, immediately it begins to lose flesh; never check the fattening process. Never begin fattening without a definite plan. There is no loss in feeding a cattlebeast well for the sake of the manure alone. No cattle-beast whatever will pay for the direct increase in its weight from the consumption of any kind or quantity of food?the manure must be properly valued. On an average it costs, on charging every possible item, twelve cents for every additional pound added to the weight of a two or three-year-old fat tening beast. In this country the market value ofr store-cattle can be increased thirty-six per cent, during six months of the fattening finish. In order to secure a sure profit, no Btore-cattle beast, of the right stamp and well done to, can be sold at less than four and a half cents per pound, live weight. Farm and Garden Note*. Do you want good fleeces next year ? Keep the sheep full and comfortable; } every day and they will do the best for you. A Pennsylvania fruit-grower, when he plants a strawberry bed, applies manure at the rate of thirty to forty tons per acre, and dresses it annually afterward with a fall mulch of twentylive tons more. lie raises 5,000 quarts to the acre, and they are big berries. The red spider may be banished from plants by the simple process of cutting olT the infected leaf. A leaf | once attacked soon decays and falls off; but then the animals remove to another. By carefully following this amputation plants will become remarkably healthy. The cause of club-root in cabbage is claimed by a German experimenter, "N'oronin, to be a parasitic vegetable, which lives and feeds on the healthy tissue of different cruciferous plants. All weeds of that order (producing pods, like turnips, mustard, radish, etc.), should be eradicated while land is being rested preparatory to a renewal of cabbage growing. Fowls in spring do not suffer so much, for as the warm days come on they gradually lose relish lor stimulating food, and thus wean themselves. The large breeds do not stand heavy feeding as well as the smaller birds. All the Asiatics, the Dorkings and Houdans take on an immense quantity of fat, whether confined or at large, whereas the Spanish, Ilamburgs, Leghorns and Games will lay off the surplus.? Country Gentleman. Gladiolus bulbs should be planted in succession, at intervals of two or three weeks, through the months of April and May. They should be planted about three inches deep, a little pure soil or sand being laid over each before the earth is closed in about them, an arrangement which may be advantageously followed with bulbous plants generally. In hot summer weather they should have a good mulching of half-rotten manure, and, as soon as the flower spikes are produced, liquid manure may occasionally be given them. ItecIpcR. Steamed Brown Bread. ?One quart of Indian meal, one pint of rye flour; stir these together and add one quart of sweet milk, one cup of molasses, two teaspoonfuls of soda; add a little salt and steam for four hours. Cabbage Fried witii Cream.? Chop a quart of cold boiled cabbage, fry it five minutes with sufficient butter or drippings to prevent burning, season it highly with pepper and salt, and stir into it half a cupful of cream or of milk with a teaspoonful of flour mixed with it; let it cook live minutes longer, and serve it hot. Chicken Soup.?Cut a chicken into pieces and simmer it gently in a gallon of water until the meat is in rags. Skim well, strain, and return the broth to the pot. Add a cupful of rice and a tablespoonful of parsley; let it simmer for another hour. Season with pepper and salt; add a cupful of boiling cream just before serving. Bread Cake.?A pint bowl twothirds full of bread dough; add to it one teaspoonful of dry soda, two-thirds of a cupful of butter, one cupful of jugar, three eggs, one cupful of chopped raisins, cinnamon, nutmeg and cloves to taste; no extra flour is required, but is must be well mixed or there will be jtreaks in it. Bake as soon as mixed in a patty-pan or a biscuit-tin. Scotch Eggs.?One cup of lean, jooked ham, cut very fine; six hardboiled eggs. Cook one-third of a cup 3f stale breadcrumbs in one-third of a cup of milk to a smooth paste and mix it with the ham; add one-half a teaspoonful of mixed mustard, onehalf a saltspoonful of cayenne and one raw egg. Mix well; remove the shells from the boiled eggs and cover each with the mixture; fry in hot fat for two minutes, drain and serve hot or :old. Plum Pudding.?Three cups of 3ifted Hour, three eggs, a wineglass or molasses (this will give it a dark solor), one and a half pints of milk, one large cup of suet chopped very fine, one cup of currants and one of raisins; add mace, cloves and cinnamon to suit your taste, one teaspoonf ul of soda and two of cream of tartar; lio 1 for at least two hours and a half, but three is still better. The two and a half are sufficient to cook it, but the other half hour's boiling gives a certain lightness to the pudding, which is greatly to be desired. Eat with any good pudding sauce. An Indian Poet and Avenger. There are on the Comstock many mti'ii who were well acquainted with John Ridge, who was a really remarkable man. He was a man who could sit upon a point of-iocks in the high Sierras for hours gazing down upon Kh? vnllpvs tliA huorft nines and turn v"v o- r [ bling canons, drinking in and enjoying the beauties of nature, so absorbed in thought as hardly to move hand or foot; yetarousethelndianinhimandhe was a man of steel and without a thought of anything humane or poetical until his vengeance was satiated. It was as two different souls within the same body. His Indian name was "Yellow Bird." John R. Ridge was the eldest son of Major Ridge, chief of the Cherokee Nation, who was murdered in his house by a deputation of the rival Ross party, and John Ross in consequence became chief. The little John was concealed in the weeds, saw his father stabbed and shot to death and swore vengeance on the murderers. "When he became a man he armed himself and went on a still linnt, on the warnath and followed on the trail until he had slain thirtytwo of them. At length the mysterious death of one of their number, in 1849 aroused the vengeance of the Ross men who, suspecting the author of their calamities, pursued Ridge several hundred miles over the plains, but being well mounted and in company with the celebratad Charley Macintosh, he made his way in safety to California. Some time in 1859 Mr. Ridge was editor of the Marysville Democrat, and one night received a dispatch from Weaverville, stating that a party of Cherokee Indians from Cherokee 13ar were on a spree in town and one of them was boasting that he had had a hand in the death of old Major Ridge and had stabbed him five times. That same hour the avenger was on his trail. "Without mentioning his purnose to any one in the printing oflice Ridge hired a horse at the livery stable and started for Weaver ville, over two hundred miles, but somehow the enemy got telegraphic intelligence of his coming, and on his arrival not a Cherokee could be found on Trinity river. Mr. Hidge died a few years ago in Grass Valley, universally lamented and leaving to the world the most glorious poem ever written in California? that on "Mount Shasta."?Shanta ( CaJ.) Courier. The New Five-Cent Piece. A numismatist writes to the Philadelphia Times as follows: I have before me the new five-cent piece, and I must say that I feel disappointed, as I had expected the design was new and original and the work of Colonel Snowden, of our Philadelphia mint. But as soon as I saw them I remembered that I had coins of a similar design in my collection. I therefore hunted them up and I herewith send you a rubbing of the reverse of the five reis bronze piece issued by Portugal in 1868, which I consider almost like our new piece, with the designs of the wreath altered. The obverse, or head of liberty, I find to be an exact counterpart of the head of Isabella, of Spain, issued on the four pesos of 1861, with the difference only that this is a laureeated head, whil ours is a tiara. A BARBAROUS FESTIVAL, A2rzri7AIi CELEB EATIO XT OP THE "BOSCH" US CAXBO. Allornc Mounted by a Sheik Walking Over Men's Prontratn Bodies? A Cruel 81?h Wltne.iNCd by Assembled ThounnndM. A Cairo (Egypt) correspondent of the Philadelphia Press writes: The " Dosch" luis taken place here with the customary pomp and eclat, and as very little, if anything, of this rtnrnant of barbarism is known across the Atlantic, a description of it will be found interesting. Unlike the Holy Pilgrimage to Mecca, this ceremony is not ordered by the Koran. During the glorious days of the Saracens in Egypt, on the birthday of the Prophet in each year, a number of criminals undergoing long terms of imprisonment, or condemned to death, were tightly bound with ropes, and then laid prostrate on the ground in rows, when twenty mounted Saracens, in full armor, galloped their horses over their bodies, returning by the same way Tho.ie of the unfortunate wretches who were lucky enough to escape unhurt received their liberty, this ordeal being a test of their innocence or otherwise, whilenodoubt whatever existed as to the guilt of the killed and wounded. Since then this cruel practice has undergone many changes, and has now come to the faithful laying themselves down of their own free will, to be trampled upon. Incredible as this may appear to civilized people, hundreds of fanatical fellahin are to be found in Cairo every year, ready to take their places under the horses' hoofs on the last day of the festival of the birthday of the prophet. This festival lasts nine days, during which the gardens of the Ezbekieh, in this city, are covered with tents and marquees, in some of which dancing, music and theatrical performances go on all day and far into the night; in others, food, coffee, sherbet, cigarettes and other delicacies are distributed freely to all applicants; and in others the dervishes and their disciples perform the zikka, a religious and exceedingly laborious exercise, producing a species of hysteria called "milboos" by the Egyptians, generally ending in the spitting of blood and very often in ueauu j.uere aic tuau uunjuiuxa, . story-tellers, sword-swallowers and i many other entertainments, to which the natives flock in thousands. At night all the public buildings and palaces of the pashas are magnificently illuminated, and the garden of Ezbe- 1 kieh beams one mass of variously col- < ored lamps. The harems of the viceroy and other notables drive through the grounds in their carriages, throw- ; ing sweets and small coins among the crowd, and the whole of Cairo is making merry. Early on the morning of the ninth and last day of the festival, the gar- , rison of about 8,000 soldiers of all ; arms march with their bands and bat- j teries of artilleries to the Ezbekieh , gardens, where they form and await the arrival of the khe- ] dive, who soon appears, ac- i companied by his ministers. His ( highness is immediately surrounded < by beautiful maidens with uncovered \ faces (contrary to Turkish habits). The bands play the khedive's march, , and the high priest offers up prayers, ] after which the khedive proceeds to i sacrifice a sacred ram, assisted by the i chief of the guild of butchers. A eu- j nuch holds a golden basin containing . a. ...l.m, 11.^ 1 1. * waier, wniie uie puteuiaie wasnes ma ( hands. This, however, is only the beginning of the ceremony, as immediately afterward the sheik of the saadeyeh, or dervishes, appears at the j gates of the mosque known as El Has- ? sanich, where he has spent the pre- j vious eight nights and days in prayer j and fasting, and, turning his face 1 toward Mecca, remains in prayer for i several minutes, after which he starts . on foot and alone toward the Ezbe- ] kieh. On the road. he is joined by ] great numbers of dervishes of various sects, hailing not only from Cairo, but ] from every part of Islam, their stand- j ard-bearers displaying the distinguish- | ing flag of their sect. These are the devotees who are ( about to undergo the ordeal of the ] "Dosch." Their appearance is anything but pleasing, and a stranger unacquainted with Moslem fanaticism j would undoubtedly attribute it to | strong nocturnal potations, as the i great excitement under which they are laboring appears unnatural, and , a- t.. i 11..1 i ?i: ' seems 10 ue impeueu uy airuuger awm- , ulants lhan any religious exercise could afford. The excitement is, how ever, quite natural, its consequences : being dreadful, and the general ap- , pearance of these men is sickening \ to a nature ordinarily sensitive. Ar- ] riving in front of the mosque of the . sheik, El-Beckru, or chief priest, the J sheik, who is supposed to have been , praying and fasting, and who hitherto j has been heading the procession on 1 foot, mounts a magnificent white Arab stallion, with flowing mane and j curved tail. A guard of honor j of grenadiers from the viceregal guard now surround the priest, , who advances toward the pavilion of j the khedive in the Ezbekieh, followed . by a mixed mob of. fanatics, dervishes, StHIIUiiru-JJCUi Ciwamuio, uiuiumcio j and soldiers. On their arrival at the j south end of the grounds, immediately facing the khedive, the devotees, urged by the dervishes, throw them- , selves flat upon the ground, and are j immediately carefully arranged and j packed close to each other in a straight , line, having their heads all one way, and their hands stretched in front of them. They continue their horrible cry of Allahu, which is taken up by , the priests, dervishes and spectators, ' all of whom become very much ex- ' cited. When all the arrangements are com- \ pleted, the police order the bystanders to be silent, and the mounted sheik 1 informs the devotees that he is about J to ride over their prostrate forms, and that this ordeal will wash out all their . sins; that any culprits who expire will ' go straight to El "Waddy or Paradise, ! the glory and beauty of which no liv- ; ing man can even imagine, while those ' who remain on earth, after having offered themselves to be sacrificed for : the greatness of Islam, will ever be honored as saints. lie then puts spurs to his horse, which is of powerful ; build, highly trained and unshod, but ' niwov'si JiAuitat.ps t.n nut its foot on the ' first human form ; this difficulty, however, being got over by a severe application of the spurs, and by the aid of some gentle inducements administered by the attendant priests, he ambles freely, but with singular care, over the whole of the prostrate wretches, each man being trodden upon twice. It is rarely, if ever, that the horse misses its footing, placing one foot on the shoulder of the man, and one hind foet upon the hips of another. Immediately the sheik has passed, those of the men who have escaped unhurt leap up, shouting the usual "Allahu!" and are at once surrounded by their friends and other bystanders, who hasten to kiss their robes and offer them money, pipes, sweets and cigarettes. The excitement at this particular moment is intense, and the cawasses, or police, are extremely lively and energetic, keeping the mob back, using the blunt edge of their swords on the eager fanatics. No attention whatever is paid to the dead or dying, although the groans of the latter are heartrending. Dead and dying are roughly tossed into a cart and taken away, although the funerals which follow in a day or two are carried out with great pomp. The use of instrumental music in church worship is increasing in England. FASHION NOTES. Sleeves have a tendency to bouffant tops. Linen collars are straight clerical bands. Heels of the most fashionable shoes are low. Velvet basques grow more and more in favor. Electric beaded jerseys are among Paris novelties. In Paris, shoes and stockings mus match the dress. Flowers are worn in profusion on Paris ball dresses. Gathered flounces with pinked edges and soft drooping puffs are the trimmings for Ottoman silk skirts. Very long deeply curved aprons that are caught up high on each hip are on the newest French dresses. velvet Iienn Quatre caps are worn by little girls. They have box plaits around the brim and the crown is a soft puff. | Long casaques of velvet with open pagoda sleeves complete the newest , cloth suits; a shoulder cape id added for the street. Brussels laces in the old-time threadpatterns are restored to favor, and are used for flounces on black Ottoman silk dresses. Necklaces and lockets are entirely out of fashion for street wear. The only necklace used, except on full dress occasions, is the silver collarette, high and close, like a dog collar. For full dress there is the merest thread of a gold chain, with a fanciful pendent of an artistic cameo. Among elegant new trimmings may be mentioned bead passementerie on white and delicate colored velvet and black jet or satin, in the semblance of "eye" peacock feathers. These are arranged to form the front of a satin or velvet evening bodice; trimming to match is arranged for the sleeves and skirt. The newest polonaises are very bouffant at the back and fitted like a jersey at the waist and over the hips. The front breadths are clinging and are usually closed to form a wrinkled apron. The polonaise is used for cloth and camel's-haT and cashmere dressts, and is considered too ordinary a style for handsome calling or reception dresses. A very handsome evening dress is of white satin, brocaded with nasturtium 1 blossoms in rich shades of red, looped 1 up over an underskirt of ruby satin, * trimmed round the foot with a ruche 1 of rose-colored satin. The peaked 1 bodice, cut low and round, is of the ? brocaded material, piped with garnet * red and rose color. In the hair a J wreath of nasturtium blossoms. All the spring woolen materials are f very soft and supple, draping grace- c fully, and light in weight. The prin- e cipal colors are dahlia, fawn color, f Russian green, dark royal blue and seal ' and golden brown. Many of the designs are in large checks of two shades, ? usually dark grounds with lighter hair 1 lines intersecting, or with pointelles of jbright color at unequal distances. The :ostumes composed of these tissues are r simple in style, many having the skirt e plaited at full length, and a tunic lined y, with plain surah of a bright shade of :apucine grenet or old gold merveil- ? leux. Velvet, or velveteen of the 1 best quality, are very fashionably em- ? aloyed with woolen materials, either 1! n larrrn nnrt.irma lilffl hn/linfl riMTIPls. " '"*Ov f ? "? r > ind wide revers, or as crossway bands, jollars, cuffs and pelerine. ????? ri Bismarck's Home Life. ( Maurice Busch.once the friend and sec- s etary of Prince Bismarck.has published t several interesting articles about the e powerful chancellor, the title of which fl s "Bismarck in his Dressing-gown." We are informed that Bismarck, not- t withstanding his outward appearance j md reputation as a boor, has a soft t aeart and qualities that are an abso- j iute contradiction of the opinion in j which he is generally held. He has s hours of fearful despondency, in which T tie asks whether the advantages he gained for Germany are worth the a blood spilled for them, in which he t doubts whether he has made any one j happy. In his younger days he was ] [onu oz nuinor, anu even us lave ao mc a French war he often had a laugh at s his wife's expense, of whom lie tells s the aged emperor: "She would like e to see all the French?men, s women and children?murdered j and spiked, just because one of her c 30ns was wounded during the war. t And I suppose," adds Bismarck," most a mothers think the same. I should not like them to get at me just now." Bis- a marck was a passionate hunter in past $ lays, and his favorite game was the r bear and wild boar, which he hunted a in Russia when minister at the court ] of St. Petersburg. He is fond of na- v ture, but he is indifferent to art, and s indeed there is little to show artistic -y taste either in his palace at Berlin or c in Vii? pasties and country houses. But he likes music, and when somber c thoughts overconle^im he gets Herr f Von Kendell to play toTsjn, and after a while softly hums the melodies. It p is a well-known fact that he has few -] friends, but in his youth he had many, y Among these is one whom he remem- t hers with loving words even now? a the American historian, John Lothrop r Motley. jIn his young days Bismarck was an ^ itheist, but now he has come to a belief t in One whose power is supreme and j,in whose hand all things rest. He t writes to the countess that he cannot 0 ?onceive how any one can be really a juite liappy while he denies the exist- j< jnce of the soul and eternal life. " I should not be the man I am were I not c i true Christian." And indeed it could scarcely be possible that such a lastng, faithful friendship as that which lias sprung up between Prince Bis- y narck and the German emperor could jxist if their opinions differed upon ^ ;his point. Bismarck is an excellent linguist. , [lis French is equal to that of a native ( Df Geneva, and he speaks and writes * English fluently. He speaks German * unthmit. t.hft slightest accent, not a x .1 O ' , very common thing in Germany, , strange as it may seem. He learned . Russian in St. Petersburg, and the Emperor Alexander II. was greatly , astonished one day when Prince Bis- tnarck made him quite a little speech in perfect Muscovite. But he has got rid of all his classic lore, and once said: "I dare say no one would be- 1 lieve it if I told them I was once proPicient in Latin. How I should not be t able to write a correct letter, and Greek I have forgotten altogether." j Bismarck is not a rich man, if hisposition be considered. His property, Schonhausen, in the Altmark, was all ^ he possessed until the day when agrateful country voted 400,000 thalers as a , gift to recompense him for his faithful j services. This sum was devoted to the i acquirement of Varzin, his favorite j j place, and his resort whenever he is ' ^ fatigued by cares of state or worried j} by enemies and opponents. But landed <, property in that part of Germany does J not bring much income, and Bismarck j was heard once to say : " If I had } bought Varzin only to walk and ride ( about in it would be all very well, but ( as it is I can grow nothing on the land but clover." There are, however, extensive forests, which are at once the ] pride and delight of the chancellor. His ( salary is 54,000 marks a year. For some time the letter-bags in the village of Cardross, Scotland, have been carried by a collie dog, who has. ' never made a mistake respecting his destination, nor has he ever lost anything. The postoflice authorities, i however, ordered the services of this11 faithful and intelligent public servant} to be discontinued. A Bank of England Story. A London correspondent of the Boston Journal writes: The first person I met on entering the Bank of England was a venerable porter in a quaint uniform, which dates back, I think, a hundred years *or more; it left agreenand-buff impression upon me, but I cannot accurately describe its details. The porter led me to a room where the executive officer of the bank was to be found. This officer, Mr. Gray, is entitled "chief accountant," and his position corresponds very much to that of cashier of one of our banks. Mr. Gray, who sat at his desk surrounded by a corps of busy clerks, and who Is a gentleman of the most courteous and unassuming manners, gave me aLfiordial welcome, and under his guidance I visited every department of the bank, and had everything which I did not understand at a glance explained to me. The capital of the bank is fourteen and one-half millions sterling; its circulation in the hands of the public about twenty-five millions sterling; its deposits, on no portion of which is interest paid, average in these days olirmf. fhirfr.fn'A milliAno ofonlmrt VUXkVJ-\ir\ \J UlAJUUilO Ouvllliigt It circulates no smaller note than five pounds, but this seems to be the only limit to denominations; in a frame in the building is a canceled note of the Bank of England for a million pounds sterling, and, if I remember rightly, the banker poet Rogers had hanging in his library a canceled note of the same nstitution for ?30,000. I have heard that a note for ?10,000 jnce had a singular history. It was paid out to one of the directors of the jank who soon afterward lost it under jucli circumstances that he was satisied, and succeeded in satisfying the jank, that it had fallen into his fi replace and been destroyed. He was jiven a new note, for which he re;urned a proper receipt and guarantee. Many years afterward the original note iVas presented for payment; the bank >ndeavored to disown it, but could not, 'or it was genuine and in the hands of m innocent person, and the bank lad to pay it. Its history was hen looked into, and it was ascerained that, instead of being jurned, it had been carried lp the chimney by a draught, md had found a safe lodgnent in some cranny in the flue. Here t had remained until alterations in -lie house necessitated the removal of he chimney r then it was discovered >y a workman, who regarded it as e egitimate find, and who presented it :or payment. Right here I may as well elate another story of the bank, of vhich there are many, both in print md as legends, but of which I will let Vinan + rxrr* oorxrn oo anoniTnonc A coivor 'A&VOW V If V 0^1 T XJ CM O^/VViUIVUkJI J.JL MV ?? VI vorkman, while poking under ground, ound that by raising a flagstone he ould penetrate into the bullion room >f the bank. Amazed at the discoviry, he pondered over it, and finally included that he would utilize it to lis pecuniary benefit without stealing, le therefore wrote to the directors, isking what reward he would receive f he should meet them at any aplointed hour of the night in the billion room, and thus reveal to them a node of ingress of which they were mtirely ignorant. They named a sum vhich would make him indedenpent or life, and to their overwhelming suririse he kept his promise by popping ip through the sewer, for which he reeived ten thousand pounds or so. This 3 supposed to have happened long ago. T/ hat to Do la Case of Fire. The papers have lately told us of a mmber of distressing deaths by fire. Jreat .hotels and warehouses have uddenly burst into sheets of flame in he night, and frantic people have ither perished in the dreadful blaze .r tVirciivinrr thamQolvM from wifi lows, have been dashed to pieces in he street. I hope that none of my oung friends may ever have to pass lirough so awful an experience. But f you should be surprised, at night or n the daytime, by the presence of moke in your rooms, do not lose your vits if you can help it. Remember at such a moment that ilthough you are in great danger, here are friends near who will try, if >ossible, to come to your assistance. )o not open doors or windows wildly, md waste no precious moments in tanding and screaming for help. Intead, think if you can of the straightst way out, quickly wrap a thick hawl or blanket around you, covering 'our head and your hair, and then xeep on your hands and knees to he door of the stairway. There is ilways air to breathe near the floor. If you are in the room with others, md a lamp io upset or some floating Irapery takes fire, recollect that you flnmna Imt f I1U3L SllJUUlCi luc liauico IJ j Uj4unmb rug on them, pulling curtains or tangings down, and cohering them vith a carpet or a quilt, or in some imilar way stop the current of air on vhich fire feeds. If a child's apron atches from the grate or stove, wrap shawl or blanket about the little reature promptly, and roll her on the loor. You cannot be too careful with regard to matches, candles and lamps. Those of you whose homes are lighted vith kerosene or other oils should ask lie person who takes care of the lamps ilways to fill them in the morning, lever doing so after nightfall. A iroperly filled lamp is not likely to exilode. Servants should be warned o be extremely careful in the use of :erosene. They should not he allowed 0 pour it upon their kindling Wuod in i rder to iignt a nre quicKiy. .jtiuire iu | rule never to trifle with fire, which 3 a great comfort in its proper place, ut a dreadful foe when beyond our ontrol.?Harper's Young People. A Singular Apparition. The famous specter of the Brocken ,'hich frequently appears in the Hartz lountains seldom visits this country, ut it was seen not long ago from the ^oujabe range in Nevada by Mr. R. A. larr, of the coast and geodetic survey, rho gives this account of the atmosheric phenomenon : " Suddenly, as I tood looking over the vast expanse eneath me, I saw myself confronted y a monster figure of a man standing ft midair befor me, upon the top of a learly-defined mountain peak, which iad but the thin air of the valley below or a resting-place. The figure was inly a short distance from me. Around t w?rc two circles of rainbow light md color, the outer one faintly deined as compared with the inner one, vhich was bright and clear and disinctly iridescent. Around the head >f the figure was a beautiful halo of ight, and from the figure itself shot ays of colors normal to the body. The light stfrtled me more than I can now ell. I threw up my hands in astonishnent, and, perhaps, some little fear, md at this moment the specter seemed ,o move toward me. In a few minutes [ got over my fright, and then, after ;he figure had faded away, I recognized ;he fact that I had enjoyed one of the liost wonderful phenomena of nature, since then we have seen it once or ,wice from Jeff Davis peak, but it has lever create such an impression upon ne as it did that evening when I was loing service as a heliotroper, all alone, >n the top of Arc Dome." Southern cotton mills increase remarkably. During the last four months ?f 1882 they took 130,000 bales of staple, an increase of thirty per cent, from 1881, while the Northern mills took but 928,258 bales, showing an actual decrease of nine per cent. A genuine red Indian, belonging to a Berlin museum, is making a great sensation among the young women of that dty, who send him photographs and l^ve-letteifc'/ , j STRIVE, WAIT AND PRAT. G J? Strive; yet I do not promise ; - pg8 The prize you dream of to-day Will not fade when yon think to grasp it, And melt in yonr hand away; J Bnt another and holier treasure Yon wonld now perchance disdain, B Will come when your toil is over, 'jrffil And pay you for all your pain. Wait; yet I do not tell yon 1 'Tie hour yon long for now Will not como with its radiance vanishe J, rlpgfiaB And a shadow npon its brow; wJ3w i far throngh the misty future, With ivcroim of ftarry ligki, ^ JSgSH An hour of joy y<m know not Is winging her eilent fligU. 'PrS7T"tbough-tt?-gift4ronflakloi May never comfort yonr fears, i-.-rcfU May never repay your pleading, Yet pray, and with hopefol tears; An answer, not that you long for, Bat diviner, will come one day; Your eyes are too dim to see it, Yet strive, and wait, and pray. HUMOB OF THE DAY. The best butter?A goat. ~ ^' ''3 The children's kingdom?Lapland. A three-year-old boy in admiring lijs baby brother exclaimed: "He's got a "" boiled head like papa." ___ A man never loses much timeln in-^^iM terviewing a bee. He generally cofires-^T^M right down to the point.?Statesman. There are in France 28,000 Jteople ~JjB who never remark, "I will see you ^^4 J later." They are blind.?New York Commercial. teSmfm Pies date back to the time of the Ro- BfffiyaS mans and came originally from Picardy. Some of the original pies are still on KaSBflB sale at railroad restaurants. rcpsffl The man who believes in a place for -MhM everything and everything in its place Kupfl never has a postage stamp when he flraH wants to post a letter.?Fuck. jjgjSM Since the recent hotel fires, the land-' KySftj lords find themselves like the feebleminded class, a little empty in the up- Xhh per stories.?Boston Transcript. Annthpr 'larrrpct. t.oloqrrmA in fchn WScmSk world" has just been erected.' An ex- BH change says: "It brings the moon so BagM close that the man can be distinctly VflfsBj heard yelling, 'Don't shoot.'" jslgSH The meanest slight a girl can put K&wn upon an admirer is to use a postal card in refusing an offer of marriage. It proves that she doesn't actually Care H3H two cents for him.?Philadelphia EM Chronicle. A Pittsburg firm has brought outa BjttM new masculine bat which they have S0H christened the "Jersey Lily." It MSB wouldn't be economy to'invest in such a hat. It is too easily " mashed"?; Norristovm Herald "Look at you!" shrieked Mrs. Ecomi, jBgaWI as the nurse let the baby tumble. " Two inches nearer the wall and that BffljflW child would have smashed a fifty-dollar -'BaggM statuette and the hall lamp." And; BaSH then they picked up the baby.-ifaw*eye |||j9H Never despise small things. The BmBI ma/imiiU/v 4V.nl flin/va anfOAfltr Vvtt VAn* lilUd^uiLU tiirto cui^o onccvy bedside becomes a power when it gets 'WfSsBI its work in. The little tack that lies SoflS so meekly on the floor may turn in an unguarded moment and make you jjgBH howl with pain. Pittsburg has anew steam hammer ffijfjfi which can strike a blow of 44,000 jjEgM pounds. It is consoling to a man to gsl8| know that there is something in the PfcgjB world that can go down as hard as he "opjjjH does when his feet get on a coal-hole cover.?Boston Post.. An Englishman shooting small -MBgBfl game in Germany said to his host g that there was a spice of danger in ? shooting in America. "Ah!" said the Braca host, "you like danger mit your sport. RJsHB Then you go out shooting mit me. l<jS&aC xhe last time I shoot mine law in the schtomack." A German statistician 6,000,000 rats were drowned by Hoods in that country. "Over remarks the DetroitFree Pre^xWw^mH man works for two weeks witl^w^^HH trap and a pound of cheese one poor old rodent, he brags as if he had won a horse face." MmB ' PHTLOPENA. We walked adown the spring-clad lawBH^^ral|H The winds were vague ana vernal; P^bSHBWe split the almond-shell in twain, < ^ U And ate ita doable kerneL "1s9S0 She crashed within her hand the BwepEajBM "jesBflfiB Pangent-perfamed verbena? ig|jHH " Who first says 'Yes,' when next w?aMwfcXS., Qaoth she, " pays Philopena." The fall had dropped its frosty dewB; The leaves of gold and crimson Were taking on sach soberer hues . BjjSBj As skies the sunset dims on. ij|Q^HH We walked the lane, now bleak and bare, ' ' HH| Iandmy Angustina: \ BO And she said " Yes." and, then and there, She paid her Philopena. ?Puck. B HEALTH HINTS. If an artery is severed, tie a small BbKH nr hsiTwllrprr>hif?f tlffhtlv above it Hlaral WiU v* V? _? 0 ? until a physician arrives. The Birmingham Medical Review recommends for chilblains equal parts of dilute nitric acid and peppermint water, to be applied daily at first and | then twice a day. ^jrfl A German physician speaks highly pM&g of the use of soft soap as a local appli- Be @ cation for sores or glandular swellings, |^||g| abscesses, discharging canals and cavities, felons, etc. It is not 'a new remedy by any means, but one which. seems likely to be neglected where ib ( might be of real service. Quite a pleasant preparation can be made by. dissolving the soap in a little cologne '.vater.--Dr. Footers Health Monthly Milk and lime water are said to j prove beneficial in dyspepsia and weakness of the stomach. The way to make the lime water is simply to - procure a lew lumps vl uiuhkacu ^39 lime, put the lime in a fruit can, and water until it is Blacked and cf the consistency of thin cream; the lime M settles and leaves the pure and clean lime water at the top. A goblet of cow's milk may have six or eight tea- .}j|j spoonfuls of lime water added witk~ good effect. Great care should to . ^3?1| taken not to get the lime water too ? strong; pour off without disturbing the precipitated lime. Sickrfess of the 'oSj stomach is promptly relieved by <jrinking a teacupful of warm water with a teaspoonful of soda dissolved in it It brings the offending matter up all the better. A WolPs Dislike for Music. j It is well known that domestic dogs ' " dislike music, but the hatred oi it seems to be much stronger in a wolf. Dogs become familiar with it, and have learned to endure it; but to the wolf it is intolerable. It would be well for Jgj those who live in countries infested by | wolves to arm themselves with some ^ loud-sounding musical instrument, as ":ji the following anecdote would suggest. A Scotch bagpiper was traveling in I Ireland, when he encountered a wolf, which seemed to be very ravenous. The poor man could think of no other way to save his life than to open his wallet and try the cffects of hospitality, He did so, and the savage beast swallowed all that was thrown to him with |aj| such voracity that it seemed as if his 1 appetite was not in the least degree The whole stock of provision was, of p|||? course, soon spent, and now the man's only resource was in the virtues of his bagpipe. This the monster no sooner ftSSB v./*..*,} than hetook to thp. mountains as itcaiu ?? ?. ? suddenly ;is he had left them. The ^8> poor piper did not wholly enjoy his deliverance, for, looking sadly at his. ^|$S3 empty wallet, he shook his fist at the. departing animal, saying; "Ay I are ||^H| these your tricks? Had I known your . ? humor, you should have had your musi<j before your supper."?Harper's Younj