The Abbeville press and banner. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, May 30, 1883, Image 1
, ABBEVILLE PRESS AND BANNER: 1
BY HUGH WILSON. ABBEVILLE, S. C.. WEDNESDAY, MAY 30, 1883. NO. 50. VOLUME XXVII. J9
~ " ? ? I - nmm i ?eeorfw?n? ' %
THE MODEL AMERICAN GIRL,
A practical, plain young girl;
Not-afraid-of-the-rain young girl;
A poetical posy,
A ruddy and rosy,
A helper-of-self young girl.
At-home-in-her-place young girl;
A never-will-lao? young girl;
A toiler serene,
A life pun and clean,
A princess-of-peace young girl;
A wear-her-own-hair young girl ;
A free-from-a-stare young girl;
Improves every hour,
No sickly sunflower,
A wealth-of-raro-sense young girl.
Plenty-room-in-her-shoes young girl;
No indulger-in-blues young girl;
fl K1 An K An V?
V/A4 IIC1 WIUW)
To fraud not a bow,
She's a just-what-she-seems young girl.
Not a reader-of-trn.sh young girl;
Not a cheap jewel-flash young girl j
Not a sipper of rum,
Not a chewer of uum,
A marvel-of-sense young girl.
An early-retiring young girl;
An active, aspiring young girl;
A morning ariser,
A dandy despiser,
, A progressive American girl.
L A lover-of-prose young girl;
Not a turn-up-your-nose young girl;
* Not given to splutter,
Not "utterly utter,"
But a mattcr-of-fact young girl.
A rightly-ambitious young girl;
Red-lips-most-delicious young girl;
A sparkling clear eye,
That says, " I will try,"
A Fure-to-succeed young girl.
An honestly-courting young girl;
A nover-seen-llirting young girl;
i A quite ana pure,
A modest demure,
A fit-for-a-wife young girl;
A songht-everywhere young girl j
A future-most-fair young girl;
An ever discreet,
We too seldom meet
This queen-among-queens young girl.
?Virgil A. Finkley, in Cincinnati En quirer
UNDER FALSE COLORS.
" A literary man, eh V said Octavia
Glenn. * Author of 4 Stray Leaves'
and ' Floating Fancies!' Then why in
the name of all the muses and graces
isn't he about his work V"
Little Fernanda drew herself up
with some excitement.
" He is having his spring vacation,"
said she. " He is resting his overwearied
brain a little, before the public
shall become clamorous for more
writings from his pen."
" Oh !" said Octavia.
" Yes," nodded her younger sister.
x "And, ch, Octavia, you can't think
how cli;: ining he is! I have always
sighed to know an author. And he isn't
a bit conceited or set up !"
" Isn't he ?"
"Xot a particle. He has written
his autograph in my album, ana given
me a copy of 'Floating Fancies.' And
Mary Martinez is quite wild about,
him. And, Octv?"
W ? Wftii v
1 "PJease don't say anything about
1 the store," coaxed Fernanda, "i have j
) given him to understand that you art* I
^ taking a course of lessons in music and |
I thorough bass. It i>n't genteel to be a
j shop-girl, you know, and?"
"Hoity toity I" said Octavia, with a j
tcss of her really handsome head. :
This is a pretty state of things, and 1
all about a man who writes hoiks. I
Isn't it just as genteel for me to sell <
buttons and co'ogne and lace barbes '
as it is for him to sell his writings ?
And haven't I a right to earn my own <
living in any way that I choose?
Fernanda, I didn't think you were such
a goos? 1"
" He is very particular about such
things," said Fernanda. " He didn't i
want an introduction to Melissa Plumb :
after he heard that she worked in the ;
factory.n j
"More fool he!" said Octavia,
crisply. ]
"He is a gentleman, you know," j
pleaded F i man da.
"Pshaw !" said Octavia. ]
i "Odlv's ri<rlit?Octv's riffht. mv 1
VVV ~ - V ~ o .
dear,"said old Grandfather Glenn, who
had been sitting so still in his arm-chair j
near by that neither of the girls sup- 1
posed that the subject of their dis- j
course was known to him. 44 A true
gentleman honors the woman as earns j'
her own bread. There's a deal of 11
electroplate in this world, and some of i
it is laid on so skillful you can't dis- .
tinguish it from real silver. But the J
silver's silver for ;U1 that, and the j
other's only humbug !" j,
Having uttered which oracular sen- \
tences old Mr. Glenn once more re-1
lapsed into silence. j,
"Grandja is so queer!" said Fer-j!
nanda, with an injured expression of ]
countenance. "But you'll promise me, I.
won't you, dear ?"
But Octavia only laughed, and went !
out into the kitchen to see if the bread
Was ngni e:i(>ugn u.r wis uiw.
Mr. Fitz Arragon was certainly
rather handsome. lie was dressed I,
very elegantly, also; he wore what j
was either a diamond or a very < x- j
rellent imitation of one on his linger, j,
and his cravats were simply sup rb. ;
lie looked at Octavia Glenn with sum.; j;
interest'when they w. re introduced.
"You are fond of music?' he said,
in that soft, insinuating way which ;
Fernanda found so irresistible.
"I don't object to it," said Octavia,
bluntly.
"It's a divine gift," said Mr. Fitz
Arragon. "May I ?u>k if you are taking
lesions from Ferrani or Agiamonte
?"
"Neither one of "em," said Octavia. j
And at that juncture Fernanda;
hurriei the literary man away to look
at a beautiful cluster of trailing arbutus
which some one had just j
brought in from the woods.
"There's no telling what Octy !
I would blurt out if you once gave her
I the chance," said she. j
fi .And she did not breathe freely uniil
I Octayia had left the old farmhouse and j
I gone back to her duties in the big
I fancy store on Twenty-third street. j
Octavia herself felt as if some dis- j
agreeable pressure were removed from
her existence. She was a frank, noble- j
H9 natured girl, who was saving up her
earnings to pay off the mortage on old
H * Grandfather Glenn's farm.
H She delighted in work, not only for
/ its own sake, but for the beneficial re
j: suits it could produce ; and she had !
BE sufficient of courage and self-denial to
live plainly until her object was at- j
tained.
She occupied a fireless hall bedroom
in a shabby little downtown boarding j
house, patronize<l mostly by the guild
of working people, whose only recom- j
mendation was its scrupulous neat- j
ness.
She wore cotton gloves, dyed-over j
gowns and the plainest of plain bonnets,
and through it all she respected
herself.
Stay, though?we have not told it
all! There was one extravagance in
which Octavia Glenn occasionally indulged
herself?that of charity. She
had a class of innocent-faced children
in the mission school, of an evening,;
and she was a diligent worker in the
,* ranks of a quiet benevolent society,
which wrought a great deal of good
without any blowing of trumpets.
4^- And one day when the feeble old
* porter at the store fell ill and his place
was vacant, Octavia Glenn constituted
herself a committee of one to inquire
into the matter.
"Of course you can do as you like, |
i Miss Glenn," said Mr. Idem, the pro- j
j prietor of the store. "But Kerrigan
f I lives in a most dismal neighborhood, i
1 and I'm not sure that it is altogether j
1 :afe for you to venture there after
1 1
ilafessL; k _____
"After dark is all the time I have,"
said Oct a via, brusquely. "And K
must lie a great deal worse to live
there than to go once in awhile. I
think I'll risk it."
So she begged permission from the
boarding-house ko-per to make a little
farina jelly over the cooking-stove
when the heavy, blackberry dumplings.
which were to regale the boarders
for dessert, were tak< n up, bought a
few strawberries and a small slice of
sponge-cake, and set forth to visit old
1m rrigan, the porter.
It was a dismal neighborhood, indeed.
where the poor o'.d man lived?
a neighborhood wher piles of ashes in
the narrow street made a sort.of model
of the Kocky mounta ns, on a small
i scale, and layers of cabbage-leaves and
damaged lettuce festered in the gutter;
where rivulets of s>ap!-uls trickled
across the pavement; and there ap:
pear d to be more feeble groceries
Itli-ui tlierc wcrp Thft verv
I ga-ligh's sulked I ehind thei; cloudy
! lanterns, and the o::- :isiv?n:il passers
I prowled by like homeless i :its.
" Number ninety-nine." said Ocj
tavia. briskly walking into a thread!
and-needle store, where an old woman
! sat f;ist asleep behind the counter.
"Does Mr. Kerrigan board here?"
The old woman roused herself and
looked about.
" Second tloor back," said she, and
inst intly fell asleep again.
Octavia smiled.
" I can iind my way myself, I don't
doubt," she thought.
And she did.
The whole house seemed to be damp.
Blotches of blue mold had broken out
here and there on the ceiling, the walls
felt damp and clammy to the touch, as
if Octavia had put her hand by mistake
on a snail; vegetable-scented
whiffs came up now and then from
the cellar, and the room in which old
Ferrigan lay gasping with rheumatic
pains felt more like a dungeon than
anything else.
Xo carpet was there, no table, only
,.1, o *1 iritnrl bnrncDTUi
d MICH, WUC1C c? Ui^iUiVU uviuoviiv
lamp had smoked its chimney into a
black cylinder; no chairs, the window
uncurtained; and the shabby bedspread
was tattered and soiled until
its pattern was beyond all recognition.
Octavia's soul recoiled from this impersonation
of hopeless poverty.
" Can 1 do anything for you, Mr.
FerriganV" she asked, after she had
tenderly administered the farina-jellv,
the fruit and the sponge-cake, straightened
up the bedclothes and trimmed
the lamp afresh.
"It's very good of yon, I am sure,"
said the old man, with the plaintive
courte y of his nation. " And I'll not
deny it was a word of comfort and
kindness that I was wearying for.
But it won't be needful long, I'm
hoping. I've sent wonl to my son?
he's a bookbinder, miss, and doing well
at his trade, but it is natural like, don't
you see? as he wouldn't like to be
dragged down by such a useless old
dug as me!"
" But he is your son, isn't he?" cried
Octavia; "and you're his father?"
" i aith, and that's true, miss, dear,
said old Ferrigan, with a sigh. "Bat
he's a fine, ambitions young man?a
raid gintleman to look at, and of a :
Sunday you couldn't tell him from the i
gentry themselves. An' he may ;
marry a granl lady yet?who knows? <
?an' he wouldn't like me tobespoilin' ;
his chances. So I jus-t keep dark, Miss i
Glenn ; an' sometimes I think?Lord
forgive me!?that I'd be better dead 1
an' out of the way. But I sent word ;
to him day before yesterday. An' j
he'll come?I think he'll come !" the ]
..1.1 mnn o.l/lnrl ii-itli n c/virr>olv rniilililo i
i'lU 111(411 auviltl, ** avi* ii uvw*vv?^ mv.v.4v.v ,
sigli. ]
At that moment a careless step )
came up the stairs?the door was ;
pushed open and a tall figure strode in. J
"Sick again !" said a petulant tone, i
"It appears to me. old gentleman,that ]
it's your chief mission in life to make I
trouble for other people. Well, what
is it now ? If it's money you want,
you may as well understand, lirst as
last that I can't let you have any. i
You'll have to swallow that absurd
prejudice of yours against charitable >
institutions, or?" #
lie stoppe.l short, impelled by the
imrried gesture of the old man's c
tiand.
" Somelx dy's here ?" said he, peer- <
ing through the semi-darkness. ]
14 Well, why couldn't you say so ? Who t
is it ? The old hag downstairs, or?"
"It is I, Mr. Fitz Arragon," said ]
Octavia, quietly advancing?" Octavia i
Ulenn." f
" Oli, I beg a thousand pardons!" t
said Mr. Ferrigan Fit/. Arragon, bur
riedly assuming his "company " manners.
" If I could liave imagined that <
such an honor as this was in store for (
me?" <
" I don't know what you mean by i
such honors," said Octavia, bluntly. <
" I am a working girl; you area bookbinder.
We have neither of us any i
reason to he ashamed of our calling; 1
vet I see no necessity for line language
iind stilted titl- s. Your pour old father ]
is very ill. and seems to be in need of
the commonest necessities of life. 1
Suppose y. u si-11 your diamond ring i
mid help him V" 1
That was the end of Mr. Fitz I
Arragon's pretensions. lie never ]
came back to the country solitudes 1
a _'a:n, to Fernanda Glenn's bitter dis- ]
a; pointment.
* iiut how could he face them all. i
itfter it was discovered that his "author- i
ship" of "Stray Leaves" and " Float- i
ing Fancies" was confined only to i
putting the covers on the same, and \
that the real author was a stout, short,
ul 1 gentleman in spectacles, and that ,
even hi> name was a fabrication of his 1
own ingenious brain?
<>1.1 \lr Vnrruriin ilipil Pnrlmns ;i<
l.e himself had hinted, it was the best
iin-J wisest thing lie could do. i
But Octavia Glenn's kindness and '
watchful cure soothe I h;s last hours, j
;ind she had the s itisfaction of getting
tiie pri e ot :i decent funeral out of '
the ambitious son.
"A jay in borrowed plumage!" she
thought." "I never despised any one
so mu< h in my life !''
And when Fernanda bewailed her
delusion, old Grandfather Glenn only
smiled and said: <
Didn't I tell you that he was only ]
electro-plated?''
Makiutr Cheese With Berries.
Nature ha->, it appears, provided an
admirable substitute for renni t in the
manufacture of chet-se, the articlu
being the berry of a plant known to
botanists as the Withonio coagulans. !
The shrub thrives in the Punjab and .
Trans-Indus territory, and has long J
been used by the Beloocheis and
Afghans to curdle milk. But its com- 1
plete ettica y was not demonstrated 1
until lately, when the berry was oilicially
experimented with at a farm belonging
to Sir .lames Ferguson, the
present governor or Bombay. There- .
port published by the government says ,
that a complete success was achieved, j
a perfect curd b;ing produced, and ,
the chce.se turning out excellent in j
every respect. The method of pre- j
paring the puneria?so the berry is (
tailed, fr^m the Persian name of ,
cheese?is to put some ounces into a ,
small quantity of cold water, and to .
- ' i?
allow mis u> sunnier uj mc oi .m v*. .. .
fire for twelve hours. At the end of (
that time about half a pint of the tie- (
coction will suffice to curdle fifty-five ,
gallons of milk, the quantity of berries j
employed being two ounces. With a
view to the more extended cultivation
of the shrub, an experimental plantation
is about to be established at th<
government botanical gardens ; t; 1
Naharanpore. Perhaps it may be j
found to have, also, a medicinal valu! j
as an astringent. '1 h'; natives in the ;,
Northwest seem to have used it for'
other purposes besides chcese-making. 1<
?London <ilobe.
AN UNCOMMON INDUSTRY, j
THE ESTABLISHMENT OF A HEW j
YOBK MEMORIAL ABTI8T.
Commercial Vnlne of Obituary I'octry nn n
Thriving .llenntof Support?l>e?cripl ion !
of a Novel IIUNincnN- How ii l-i Conducted- i
It will scarcely be supposed that
obituary poetry has any commercial i
value, save that attached to it as an j
announcement at so much per line in ,
the obituary columns of u newspaper.'
Yet it is a fact that an enterprising!
woman in Xew York, Mrs. Kintzer by
name, does ;i very thriving business as j
an original poetess by profession.
A Journal reporter called upon the ;
lady in her busy little factor)1 near
Houston street in the Bowery, and 1
found her to be a prepossessing, bright J
little woman with a keen eye to busi-!
ness and a thorough knowledge of the (
wants of her customers. An entire ,
(loor constitutes the establishment of j
the "memorial artist," as she calls '
herself. The front room comprises a j
factory; the second room serves as a j
sample room; the rear room is fitted j
upas an oflice. The "factory" was j
fdled with long strips of p'cture
molding. Boxes of glass were placed ;
against the sides of the wall. In the j
center of the ro >111 several young j
girls were seated at long tables finishing
the frames, mortising the corners j;
and pasting the backs.
"I employ over a dozen hands the I
year round,"' said the memorial artist,:,
"and sometimes more. My wage.;
bill amounts to nearly $200 a week,
and doesn't include commissions to
agents. Everything here is produced ]
by machinery." i
" Including the poetry?" suggested
the reporter. ?
The satire failed to strike. " Oh,
dear. no. 1 never heard of poetry
being made by machinery. I pay
liberally for the verses, whi-h are sup- ,
plied by a clever young man who ]
writes advertisements for a large \
clothing house." i
"And how do you succeed?" <
" Well, I can't complain. You see j
tlie death rate in New York is very <
high, and just about this season of the (
year and during the fall I am very (
busy. I have branches also in Cin- (
ii+i r?-*Tr Kiiuhnnrl m?lTIflI
viiuiuLi n mui. .... 0-., j
and I think of opening another in St. ]
Louis." (
44 What cities have the highest death s
rate?"' j
4,Xew York, Cincinnati. St. Loui?, a
Xew Orleans and Chicago," and she
rattled them ofT with the gilmess of a <i
schoolgirl at annual examination. L
44 And how docs the memorial artist c
conduct her business?' s
14 Well, I'll tell you. I cue out every c
morning the list of deaths from the j
papers, select a number of names and L
send out my agents to canvass the I
bereaved families with memorials. If li
you will step this way I'll show you t
how it is done." e
The lady led the way into the sample- p
room, a neatly furnished apartment, t
upon the walls of which were sus- s
pended a number of "frames" con- d
tabling artificial wreaths and wax h
(lowers of various kinds. In the center a
a black space filled in with gold letter- ji
ing set forth the virtues of the de- c
cta.->ed in obituary verse. A blank | c
above and another below the verses j
served as the spot in which the name | a
;ind th*> age of the defunct party was | p
to 1 e tilled in. p
The frames were very tasteful and k
the general elTect was. to say the least, a
irtistic. Some wreaths were made of tl
ivy, others of white roses, another of e;
lilie.s and so on. In the back room? h
the ottice ?which was carpeted and ! o
provided with desks, sat three young I fi
utn entering names into a book, b
irransing for the next day's canvass. | (J
Several columns of death notices lay | tl
upon the table, ready for cutting and f<
pasting into a refercn e and order A
jook. o:
" How many people die daily in New ; g
York?" asked the reporter. jg
"I can't tell you exactly, because ' b
ny business is not confine! to New I a!
i'ork al< ne. It includes Brooklyn, j f;
Tuijirui .Tprspv Iloboken a
m?I even more remote distances." si
"Anil what do these pretty things e:
?ost V" cr
" From three to twenty dollars, ac- is
lording to the time, labor and quality, j w
Most of my business is c< nlucted on ai
;he installment plan. A party orders i je
i memorial, pay for ?10 or *15, and ;"
:>?avs one-third of the price down, the j
iaiauce in installments from twentyive
cents to $1 a week, according to j fr
;heir means." li;
"Do you incur many bad debts?" 0I
"No, I can't complain on that ac- js
;ount; poor people look upon ? debt i
>f this kind in the light of a sacred j |?
)blig;ition. Jleside, a large part of j cj
nv business come-; to me from cus- ni
omers who recommend their friends. ^
A couple of months ago I sent, several I ]j.
nemorials to Cincinnati t > people who [ rj
lad lost relatives by the floods." ! jn
" Are your customers very critical as j sr
regards the poetry ?" 0j
"I find tli.it some prefer to use | jE
;heir own corn j options, and when this j tf
is done I usually deduct something I jj
from the price of the memorial, llut ;i]
this only applies to very few. Per- j 9
liaps you would like to lead some of | r('
the original verses?"' Ilere the lady 1 ^
produced a small volume of sample
poetry applicable for all sorts and con-! ^
;litions of defunct humanity. Their 1 jj,
construction was of the most primitive
character and the style was pat- aj
terned after the usual monotonous j,
ring of such productions. ^
Here is a sample: ir
"InElla's death wo mourn a friend SJ
rt ho conquer'il Death. Pe ice was her end. tj,
Although we shall not see her more
We know she treads the he ivenly shore."
Thi! demise of an infant is cliron-1 Jl
[fled after the following: I1
' All is still and silent. Thy childish voice ^
at rest. j :l;
So more we'll hear thy prattlo. Thy mother's ! si
anguish'd heart j ;l|
Throbs now for resignation, as fervently she *
yearns ] .
For hope and consolation?to God in faith ; J'
she turns." I u
? It!
Rather Hard to Please. j k
u
A Philadelphia girl who won t marry j,,
says: I tliink tin; distaste for married 1
life does not exist so mu';h with young ^
men as many suppose. If there werej^j
;iny of the right kind of young men? j 0
young men with noble principles and Sj
superior intelligent e as well as per- j,
sonal graces-it night be different; I0
hut the race seems to be dying out.! j,
With my present tastes and views I jr
nm not liable to marry any one, so 1 j ^
JUSU (lclHUU utxauau 1 ?VU mv/iv, VHJIM- j
ment out of that than anything else.; jj
There is no difficulty in getting part- i -jj
tiers, and that is all I think society j (j,
men are good for?to dance with. j r.
Elephant's Milk. j ti
The composition of elephant's milk, 11
according to the analysis of J)r. Ques- 51
tiuville, in the Mouitmr Srienttjii/nr, i
is similar to that of cream, but its | y
consistency is different. lis odor and ; "
tast are very agreeable, and the taste | S(
is superior t > that of most other kinds
of milk. It is about equal to cow's I
milk in quality. In view of these j
facts, La Nature, of Paris, does not!
lespair of seeing the day when an ad- [>(
venturous speculator shall bring a
tro>p of elephants to be driven through [(
the streets of the city as goats are now j
ilriven, to furnish each customer with > _
his cup of milk direct from the teat- | ^
o
Farms in the United State*. ii
The following table shows the num- i11
Iter of farms in the United States in ^
lbSO, and the number in 1S70:
18S0. 1870.
To';il number of farms. .4,03^,907 2,2o!),C8;j
Uni'o.- ICO acres 2,208,.'574 2,07/5,31:8 v
One l.u ldi e I to .rAX) ;ic cs.l,(W5,983 C o.'Tit
FivahundieJtj 1.00Jacres 7;>,'JT2 15,873 <(
A. thousand acres aud over 28,578 8,720 1 f i
Consumption.
Dr. Felix Oswald in the Populai
Science Monthly defines consumption at
essentially a house disease, and says:
Irrespective of race differences anc
special dietetic habits, the habitual
breathing of vitiated air leads to the
development of pulmonary scrofula
And science has furnished the
rationale of that result. Physilogy
has demonstrated that air is gaseous
food, and respiration a process of digestion.
The atmosphere furnishes
the raw material of the pulmonary
pabulum; at each inspiration th(
organism of the lungs imbibes the
oxygenous or nutritive principleof the
air draught, and excretes the indigestible
elements. By breathing the
same air over and over again, the atmospheric
element becomes azotized;
i. e., depleted of its life-sustaining
prineip e, and therefore unfit to supply
the wants of the animal economy. The
continued inhalation of such vitiated
air nils tue respiratory organs wiin inaigestible
elements, which gradually accumulate
beyond the dislodging ability
of the vital forces, and at last corrupt
the tissue of the congested organ and
favor the development of parasites
Consumption is one of the
diseases that seem to confirm
the tenets of the gorm theory.
A tubercular diathesis is favored by
stagnant impurities in the circulatory
system, by a warm and humid climate,
iind counteracted by cold air and other
antiseptics. Six years ago a German
physician demonstrated that the progress
of pulmonary scrofula can be arrested
by a pectoral injection of carbolic
acid; and one of his countrymen
lately ascertained that the tubercle
veins are alive with microscopic parasites
that multiply like the spores of
\ prolific mushroom. The first development
of these lung devourers
would seem to amount to a sentence
if speedy death; yet their fecundity
r\\-s*nr\r1a + r?f <vorfnin infoc
Klll&lJ UAV/CVVIO Hiuv VI. V/wA vittt* iiivv.1
iinal parasites, and the vis vitre has
nethods of her own for dealing with
such foes, is ever to begin the battle
'or life on the pole condition that we
lo not complicate the difliculties of
lie undertaking by counteracting her
;fforts or by perpetuating the influ;nce
of the original cause. Cease to
'eed the Jungs with azotic gases and
i)r. Kock's animalcule will starve and
lisappear as surely as man worms will
tarve and disappear if we change a
jork and sourkraut diet for bread and
ipples.
In all latitudes the disease known
is pulmonary consumption is caused
iy the breathing of vitiated air and
an be subdued by outdoor exercise,
ays Dr. Oswald, and while he does
./.* 1'HV nuru/l l'of\ in nil Qt.niTPS tllP.
irogress of the disease can be arrested
iy outdoor exercise alone. This writer
elieves that outdoor life will cure the
iitman organism of any disease not
oo deep rooted. An hour's walking
ach day will keep the lungs catarrh
roof. The night air superstition is
o be abandoned and all bedrooms
hould be kept well aired night and
ay. A rain shutter should be at
and so that in stormy weather the
ir can be admitted. After the preudice
against open windows has been
tired, the repugnance to outdoor exeris<!
in winter must be overcome.
The best lung food is good air, and
fter that fresh, sweet cream. Salt
ork is the worst, and salt meat,
ickles, pungent spices, cheese and all
inds of intoxicating liquors are to be
voided. The diet recommended for
lose troubled with pulmonary disases
is composed of graham bread,
oney, beans baked with butter instead
f pork, and a liberal dessert of sweet
ruit, as sweet grapes, pears, strawerries
and stewed prunes. J)r.
'swald savs it is fallacy to suppose
lilt the night is an unfavorable time
)r the assimilation of a hearty meal,
inimals rest after repletion, and some
f them never sleep till they have a
ood meal to digest lie prescribes a
lass or two of sweetened cream just
efore going to bed, not as a food, but
i a medicine. It is an established
ict, he adds, that fat counteracts
tuberculous diathesis. Consumptives
lould sleep much in pure air, avoid
ccitin,' emotions and stay out of
owded assemblages. If the danger
recognized in time the virus can be
orked off by outdoor exercise. The
tide is an able discussion of the subct,
and it will repay perusal.
How Billiard Balls arc Made.
Tim mnnnfsmfaim nf hilliiml halls
om celluloid and bon^ilate is a pecu;ir
industry from the fact that the
ily factory of the kind in the world
in this cily. A large proportion of
le balls now made are of celluloid,
nt only for the reason that the malinery
is not as well adapted to the
lanufacture of bonsilate balls. The
me will come, however, when all
dls will be made of the latter mateal.
The celluloid, which is received
i large white sheets, is first cut into
nail square pieces about five-eighths
: an inch in size These are placed
ito mold?, previously heatid by steam
> the proper temperature. They are
iea placed in the hydraulic presses,
id with a pressure of from 1,5U0 to
000 pounds to the squaro incli are
Highly molded, heat at the same time
3ing applied. The various positions
F the blocks in the mold give the ball
ic peculiar mottled appearance when
riish:;d. Experiments have been made
y grinding the celluloid to a powder,
nil using it in that form, but nothing
as succeeded so well as the present
let hod. After being taken from the
lolds, the balls are turned absolutely
jherical, by an exceedingly ingenious
evice.
The pro . esses in the manufacture of
oasiliate balls are quite different in
lany respects. The material is placed
i the molds in powder, and the balls,
ttcr being roughly pressed up, conderably
larger than the required size,
re covered with rubber and tin foil,
> prevent the material from being inired
by water, and are then placed
ruler water pressure. By ine;ins of
lis, which is the only machine of the
ind in existence, the balls are placed
ruler a pressure of from :{,00()to 4,000
ounds to the square inch. The water
niching tlie ball at every point, and
le pressure being equally transmitted,
le result is a perfectly pressed sphere,
F iiiL.I tj.n citiui ciwu'ilic <rr:ivitv in r>n<?
I JUOl tliV iJJUUV .J|?VV*uv
iot as in another. Without this aparatus,
the successful manufacture
f billiard balls from bonsiliate would
ave been impossible. A simple but
lgenious contrivance is also employed
) ascertain when the balls are perictly
jioised or balanced. They are
rst weighed and are then placed in a
;it dish of mercury. This subtle fluid
fitects the slightest shade of inaccuicy,
and the balls are put in the lathe
ad corrected until they are absolutely
ue. Not only billiard, but pool and
agatflle balls are made. The prices
t which they are sold are far below
10^e charged for ivory, ranging from
l?.50 to $13.50 per set of four balls
>r billiards, and from $20 to $50 per
t of sixteen balls for pool.?Albany
'JIW.
Hough mi the Policp,
Sometimes tlie easiest tilings sup
osedly prove tlie most difficult. A
mntry clergyman who visited tlie
oliee headquarters in Brooklyn can
jstify to the truth of this fact. Being
esirous of seeing the Boston rogues'
allery he seemed to be satisfied with
frame containing photographic busts
f the police captains. Having examled
these portraits carefully, he re-'
larked, says the Journal, with an air
f conviction, " It's easy to tell crimials;
there is depravity in every line
f their countenances."
The United States in 1880 imported
alf its buttons, a fifth of its
ombs, an eighth of its perfumery an J
3ur-flfths of its jewelry.
THE BAD BOY AND THE BAND
HE GETS UP A SERENADE IN H02T0B
OF HIS FA.
The Old Gentleman Kntertnlna the snrMinilti*4
With a Speech nnd Itorrrnliiiu-nt*-.
Serion* Trouble ni the Cliurrh.
"What was it I heard about a band
serenading your father, and his inviting
them in to lunch V" said the gro*
eery man to the bad boy.
" Don't let that get out, or pa will
kill me dead. It was a joke. One of
these Bohemian bands that goes about
town playing tunes, for pennies, was
over on the next street, and I told pa
I guessed some of his friends who had
heard we had a baby at the house had
hired a band and was coming in a few
minutes to serenade him, and lie better
prepare to make a speech. Pa is proud
of being a father at his age, and he
thought it was no more than right for
the neighbors to serenade him, and he
went to loading himself for a speech,
in the library, and me and my chum
went out and told the leader of the
band there was a family up there that
wantpd some music, and they didn't
care for expense, so they quit blowing
where they was and came right along.
Xone of them could understand English
except the leader,and he only understood
enough to go and take a drink
when he is invited. My chum steered
the band up to our house and got them
to play 'Babies on our Blo?k,' and
'Baby Mine,' and I stoppe 1 ad the men
who were going home and told them
to wait a minute and they would see
some fun, so when the band got
thrmicrh t'?i? sppnnrl tiinrv find t.hi?
Prussians were emptying the beer out
of the horns, and pa stepped out on
the porch, there was more nor a
hundred people in front of the house.
You'd a dide to see pa when he put
his hand in the breast of his coat, an 1
struck an attitude. lie looked like a 1
congressman, or a tramp. The band
was scared, 'cause they thought he
.was mad, and some of them were
going to run, thinking he was going
to throw pieces of brick house at them,
but my chum and the leader kept
them. Then pa sailed in. Jle commenced,
'Fellow citizens,' and then
went away back to Adam and Eve, I
and worked up to the present day, j
giving a history of the notable people
who had a-quired children, an:K kept I
the crowd interested. I felt sorry for I
pa. cause I knew how he would feel i
when he tame to find out he had been I
^old. The Bohemians in the band that I
couiun i unuersianu j^ugusri, me/
looked at each other, anil wondered I
what it was all about, and finally pa
wound up by saying that it was every I
citizen's duty to own children of his I
own, and then he invited the band and i
the crowd in to take some refreshments.
Well, you ought to have seen i
that band come in tne hous3. They i
fell over each other getting in, and I
the crowd went home, leaving I
pa and my chum and me
and the band. Eat? "Well,
I should smile. They just reached for
tilings, and talked Bohemian. Drink? i
Oh, no. I gu si they didn't pour it I
down. Pa opened a dozen bottles of i
chain| agne, and they fairly bathed in
it, as though they had a lire inside. I
Pa tried to talk with them about the I
habw but thev couldn't understand.
and finally they got full and started I
out, and the lea ler asked pa for three
dollars, and that broke him u;>. Pa
told the leader he supposed the gentlemen
who had got up the serenade had
paid for the music, and the leader
pointed to me and said I was the
gentleman that got it up. Pa paid
him, but he had a wicked look in his
eye, and me and my chum lit out,
and the Bohemians came down
the street bilin' full, with their horns
on their arms, and they were talking
Bohemian for all tliao was out. They i
stopped in front of a vacant house and j
began to play, but you couldn't tell j
what tune it was, they were so full, <
and a policeman came along and drove i
thorn home. 1 guess I will sleep ?t !
the livery stable to-night, cause pa is i
oftul unreasonable when anything i
costs him three dollars, beside the i
champagne." I
" Well, you have made a pretty mess I
01 11, SIIIU IIIC grui ' Y ni?iu. it a <v
wonder your pa does i t kill you. But <
what is it I hear a'lout the trouble a' '
the church ? They lay that fo dishness 1
to you."
" It's a lie. They lay everything to [
m<\ It was some of them ducks that !
sing in the choir. I was just as much J
surprised as anybody when it occurred. ]
You see, our minister is laiu up from \
the effect of the ride to the funeral, 1
when he tried to run over a street car, !
and an old deacon, who had symptoms
of being a minister in his youth, w;is
invited to take the minister's place
and talk a little. He is an absent- J
minded old party, who don't keep up 1
with the events of -he day, and who *
ever played it on hiti knew that he '
was too pious to even re;ul the daily 1
papers. 'J here was a notice of a choir '
meeting tc bi read and I think the
tenor smuggled in the other notice, '
between that and the one about the '
weekly prayer meeting. After the 1
deacon read the choir notice he took <
up the other one and read,' I ain re- <
quested to announce that the Y. M. C. <
Association will give a friendly entertainment
with soft gloves, on Tuesday i
evening, to which all are invited, t
Brother John Sullivan, the eminent c
Boston revivalist, will lead the s
exercises, assisted by Brother f
.^lade, the Maori missionary from 1
Australia. There will b: no slugging,
but a collection will betaken up (
at the c!o:>r to defray expenses.' Well, j
J thought the people in church would ?
sink through the lloor. There was not ,
a person in the church, except the poor \
old deacon, but what uil lerstood that j
some wicked wretch had deceived him, j
and I know by tlio way the tenor
tickled the soprano, that lie did it. I
may be mean, but everything I do is
innocent and I wouldn't be as mean
as a clioir singi r for two dollars. I
felt real sorry for the old deacon, but
he never knew what he had done, and
I think it would be real mean to tell
him. lie won't be at the slugging
match. That remark about taking up
a collection s-tthd the deacon. 1
must go down to the stable now and
help grease a hack, s j you will have to
excuse me. If pa comes here looking
for me, tell him you heard I was going
to drive a picnic party out to "Waukesha.
and may not be back in a week.
By that time pa will get over that
Uohemian serenade," and the boy filled
his pistol pocket with dried apples and
went out and huntr a sisn in front of i
the grocery, "Strawberries two shillin I
a smell, ami one smell is enuff."?(J. 1
W, Peck. |
Shoes of a New Sort.
About 150 prisoners in the Maryland
penitentiary are engaged in t ie
manufacture of merino shoes. The
merino shoe is ma le of coarse wool
from South America. It is put through
tlio usual processes of cleaning and ,
carding at the penitentiary, and is then j
steamed, hardined and made into a j
tough, pliable cloth about twice the ,
thickness of ordinary shoe leather, and j
in general appearan -e not unlike the .
uppers in arctic overshoes. The solos !
are made in the same way, of the I
same material, but are harder and j
heavier. The shoes are not impervi- j
ous to water, but a e intende 1 for use j
principally in the diy, c. ?l.l climates of j
the North. It is stated that, no matter
how low the temperature, the f^et ,
will never g t cold wlm enca-ed in J
these shoes. Tlie shoes aie shipped j
j)rincipally to tiie North an.I Northwest,
where they are used in the ltirn- !
ber camps.
The national debt of Franco is *
$4,683,840,000. j
H m 'r ti
THE FARM AND HOUSEHOLD. j
HogR?Enrly Maturity.
There is no profit in keeping a hog
until it is eighteen months old, and
although such an animal may possibly
reach the weight of 400 pounds, the
heavy weight will not compensate for
the food consumed. A pig farrowed
in April and slaughtered about
Christinas will more than return his
cost, for it must be taken into consideration
that dining that period lie
will be but a pig, and the earlier feedings
small in quantity. lie should
weigh 250 pounds "when killed,
especially if a grade Essex or Berkshire,
and the carcass will contain a
fair admixture of lean and fat. Very
large hogs are very often cnly fit for
thu lard tubs, and very o'ten only for
the soapmaker. The quality of the
meat influences the price, and the dif
ference of only one cent a pound
amounts to quite a sum in the whole.
The profitable hog is the one that is
grown quickly, fatted without delay,
and marketed before it begins to consume
the food laid up for winter.
Proper Feed for Chickens.
A Dutchess county (X. Y.) poultry
raiser sends the following excellent
and practical article to the Country
(Jerdlemnu: For young chirks just
hatched 1 use a custard made of equal
parts of eggs and milk. The young
things eat very little, and that must j
be wholesome and satisfying. To
have strong, sturdy chicks, they
should remain on the ne. t at least
forty-eight hours after hatching.
As soon as all th: eggs which will are
hatched, I clear the nest of shells and
unhatched eggs, throw the hen off the
nest (having previously placed food
and drink within her reach), and id
low her to remain until her wants are
relieved, alter which she will return
and be quiet for the forty-eight hours,
or until time to remove her, with her
brood, to the coop or building where
they are to remain until weaned. If
a steady sitter, and the eggs are all
right, the hen will hatch them out
uniformly. Long before the chicks
begin to hatch all unfertilized eggs
should have been removed from the
nest. At the end of the first twenty-four
hours I place some of the custard on
a shingle in front of the nest, and the
hen, if a good mother, will call her
brood and feed them. This food is
the very best they can take, being
Boft, digestible and nutritious. It is
nearly the same nourishment that
heretofore has supplied the growth of
the chicks. I generally arrange to
have several broods hatch at the same
time, when there is little trouble. I
reed the chicks sometimes half a dozen
times a day when small. They do not
run at large, except m me very
warmest portion of the day, until
after several days, and if the weather
is bad, not before a week old. I continue
this custard, beginning when
two or three days old, to introduce
with it cracked corn, wheat or buckwheat,
so that they may become accustomed
to it by degrees until capable
of subsisting on it entirely. "When
fed whole grain, or even meal, the
chicks must be allowed plenty of fresh
irink (water is the best) and run on
the ground or where they can have!
free access to gravel or coal ashes. J
For green food I use chopped onion |
tops if I can get them. Jf not, I give J
,'inelv cut lettuce, fresh tender grass j
3r running mallows, of which they are j
i-ery fond when in confinement. My i
>hicrks Jilwavs thrive: I seldom l \s;
in)'. To make the custard I take one
?gg, well beaten, and add three tablespoonfuls
of new milk and bake in a
small shallow pan. Tiiis preparation
makes a custard so stiff that it will
[jreak into lumps and none is wasted, as
ivould be the case with softer food. It
is better than hard-boiled eggs. I have
used bread and milk, but it is not so j
;ood. One egg makes sufficient food
jer day for eight or ten chicks at first,
)f the small breeds. The larger breeds j
)f chickens can sooner be weaned off. i
rhe expense is not great, taking into I
iccount the nice, thrifty condition of [
;he fowls. They keep ahead of all dis- i
?ases, and there is no loss if careful to |
prevent accidents. They make fine
jirds when grown up, and splendid j
lens for egg production. With the
dosest calculation it takes about a j
'Ushel of corn per year for a hen. If
>ther grain is used with it of course i
?. ? ! A ?11 f.?. |
oss win ue required, mu <m iu?,
;hrift and profit must be given one j
eed of corn daily. Without it they I
(list stop short of the desired result, I
whether it bo flesh or eges. I feed !
idult or laying fowls a soft, warm feed j
n the morning, and find the quantity ;
)f eggs increased by doing so.
Farm find Garden Notes.
Every farmer should keep by his j
nanure pen a few barrels of plaster,!
ind as often as once eacli week should '
itrew ovt r the contents a sprinkling of
? ??,i ti,ia uiiAiilfl rnntinue
JlilMCJ. UiHl nil.i
hiring the entire winter in warm celars.
Tho yield of cheese from Jersey milk
s surprisingly large. It is at least
;wenty per cent, greater than the yield
roin average milk. Only eight pounds
)f it are required to make a pound of
jheese when it requires ten pounds of |
)ther milk.
A fruit-grower placed tobacco stems
iround the trunks of peach trees, and I
;here is not the sign of a borer in any !
)f the trees so treated. He set the
items around the butts of the trees and
;icd them at the top. It keeps off rab- j
"'infcp
JUS <13 WCIl iii >* iuiv.A. i
The common harrow can. bo applied
;o many more purposes than its com-;
non one of preparing the ground for J
seeding. It is one of the best imple- J
nents for fining manure after it has
)eeo spread broadcast, more thoroughly i
nixing it with the soil and making the
nanure doubly effective.
When horses eat their oats too
apidly the evil may be checked by i
dating some clean cobblestones in the j
x>x. The liorse will thus be compelled j
,0 pick his oats slowly, mast Hit*; them i
liore thoroughly, and thqy will do him \
mich more good than if hurriedly i
:aten in the ordinary way.
A writer says that he has never '
'ailed to cure garget by the use of!
jeans. Ho feeds one pint of bean i
neal, mixed with other meal, fur four ;
successive day?, and has found fiat j
juantity sufficient to cure the worst[
a>es. ile thinks if cows were led 1
,vith bean meal several times a year !
;hcy would never be troubled with
jargct. j
A veterinary professor says that,
'the great majority of ringbones in 1
,'oung horses comes from the failure j
II ?]iort-?n the toes." To tins may be j
idded that ringbone is apt to-be formal
f colts are allowed to stand < n a plank
loor, or anywhere else where the foot- ]
ng is hard, during the lirst eighteen
nonths of their age. Whether in j
itable or yard dnring this period, let I
hem have earth for standing or w;:lk-t
ng, free from slone or gravel.
The way in which an old veterin-1
irian cures ringbone is described. lie
-ies the animal down, to guard against1
ricking. ltun a sharp-pointed knife:
hrough the fetlock, wh *n a whitedadder
will pop out. J{tin a need'e '
ind thre;id through this, draw it out'
ind remove the bladder with a l<n'fe. i
Hie cure is so n efi'e: ted without nariu
,o the horse, if taken early, and the j
ingbone will not return. 1 Jut if al-1
owed to harden it cannot bo so re-1
noved.
A correspondent of theGermantown
Velei/raph says : Fresh, clean hog's
ard rubbed three or four times on any
cind of warts on horses and cattle will
remove them on three or four applications.
I have removed the warts time
ifter time, and have never been able
;o find the wait a ter tho fourth
ippUcation. If I should send tho
Uttia name for lard and tell men to
pay fifty cents to the druggist for
about two cents worth of good lard
this remedy would be oftcner usid.
Charcoal is highly recommended as a
preventive of disease in sheep, and in
an English pamphlet the following
recipe for its use appears : The charcoal
should be given mixed with the
food, except in urgent cases, when it
may be mixed in water or thin gruel,
and given as a drench. The dose is
one pint to every twenty-five head of
sheep or lambs ; one-quarter pint per
head for full-grown < attle, horses or
p'gs; half the quantity for young
cattle; and two tea poonfuls to one
dessertspoonful for young calves.
It is a source of great economy to
cut all hay, straw and fodder fed to
cows, even though there be no mixture
of meal or bran with it. They will eat
up v< ry closely much that would otherwise
be left and wasted if fed long.
Dry cornstalks, that so many farmers
j have neglected on the ground where
j they grjw to become a nuisance when
! preparing fcr (he following crop, it'
cut at the proper time, and after curing
stacked and kept dry, cut and crushed
with a suitable machine, fed to the
stock in winter would become a
source of great profit. Pure, clean
water should at all times be accessible
to the dairy cow, and is as essential
for health and profit as fe"d, and without
both of good quality and liberal
quantities the best results will not be
obtained.
IIotiMcliold Hints,
A tablespoonful of turpentine,
boiled with your white clothes, will
greatly aid the whitening process.
Boiling starch is much improved
by the addition of sperm or salt, or
both, or a little gum arabic, dissolved.
Salt liberally sprinkled over a carpet
before sweeping will absorb the dust
and dirt and brinsr out the colors as
fresh as new.
If stove polish is mixed with very
strong so.ipsuds the luster appears immediately,
consequently there is less
dust to breathe and blacken.
Paper and plaster are active absorbents,
and when they become thoroughly
saturated with various effluvia,
nothing but entire renewal will cleanse
them.
Carpets should be thoroughly beaten
on the wrong side first and then on the
right, after which spots may be removed
by the use of oxgall or ammonia
and water.
There are a great many times when
a glue-pot in the house is a " wellspring
of pleasure," and is an economical
investment, especially when of
the kind here described: Buy at a tin
shop one small tin can, costing five
cc nts, and a large one, costing about
ten cents, in which the smaller can be
set; live or six cents' worth of glue
will mend a great many broken arti*
*ii ? ?1,: ?
Cll'S Or Will liisien i/inuys t/iiab uuvt; uccome
unglueil. Put tlio glue in the
small cup with a little water; put boiling
water inth.^ larger one and set the
glue-cup in it; in a f3W minutes the
glue will melt and be ,*eady for use.
Recipes.
Tea Rolls.?Here are directions
for making excellent rolls for tea: One
quart of Hour, one half-teaspoonful
of salt, three teaspoonfuls of baking
powder, one tablespoonful of lard, one
pint of milk; mix in as soft a dough
:is you can handle easily, and take pains j
not to work in much flour on the I
kneading-board; cut out in narrow
strips, a! out five inches long; rub the
top over with a little sweet milk, and
bake in a hot oven.
Ham Helisii.?Fry the yellow fat
of ham, which is usually discarded
as gross, with any thin slices of cold
veal, mutton, or even salt beef, a nice
brown. Lay aside and keep warm.
Bruise equal quantities of any cold
vegetables, cabbage, potatoes or cauliflower,
and also fry in the fat which
still remains in t'.ie pan from the foregoing.
Warm a dish and place the
vegetables at the bottom, laying the
slices of meat neatly on top. Must be
served hot. Garnish with lemon peel
and fried parsley.
Potato Socv.?A quirt of milk,
mx large potatoes, one stalk of celery,
an onion and a tablespoonful of butter
Put milk to boil with onion andcclery.
Pare potatoes and boil thirty minutes.
i'lirn Olt DM3 Wilier uuu iiiiisu Iiuc aim
ligl.t. Add the boiling milk and the
butter, and pepper a id salt to taste.
Hub through a strainer, and serve immediately.
A cupful of whipped
cream added when in the tureen is a
great improvement. This soup must
not be allowed to stand, even if kept
h it. Served as soon as ready, it is excellent.
Kick Cueam.?Boil two ounces of
line rice in water for live minutes,
strain it, and boil until tender in a
quart of new milk. Kub the rice
through a sieve to a pulp, and .add to
it any milk not absorbed in the boiling;
half an ounce of gelatine
to a pint of the rice and
? :i i- 'I'krt rtotnfi n a nnn lia
IIJ11K. ? IIC ^l.iutiuv>
soaked and dissolved either in milk or
water. Stir over the lire until mixed,
swe. ten and flavor to taste. Stir
the cream occasionally until cold, then
lightly mix in the whites of two eggs
beaten to a strong froth; when on the
point of settling put it into a mold.
Statistics of a Masher.
" Charge that," said a well dressed,
part-his hair-in the-center young man
to one of the barbers in a prominent
Superior street shop yesterday morning.
The barber yelled "next," the
young man ] assed out, and a Leader
reporter took a place in the chair. "Do
you oltvn get swindled by men like
tlio one whom you just shaved?"
asked the reporter. "Very often," the
barber answered, a-s he began laying
on the lather. "You see it ain't convenient
at all times lor u gentleman to
spare it'll UvIlL5 UII (I ouiniay iiiv/iixiuq,
and he is compelled to ask for credit.
As a usual tiling these pert young
things one sees in the streets making
mashes, are hard up, especially after
they pay their weekly bills. For instance,
the average corner pet gets
about $5 per week. When Saturday
night comes he makes the following
expenditures
Board $1 .r-0
Kooin rent 10
Part payment on the $25 suit, now
nearly worn out 100
Washing 40 ]
Four cignrs to smoke on Sunday 10
One pair of socks 0f>
l'nyment ou diamond stud 50
< >no ' dickey ' 50
I'u'.tcnhole bouquet 05
One shine . 05
Payment on his girl's Christmas
present 50 [
Perfumery 05
Paper cull's 05
Paper collar 03
Candy, French, to chow 02
m *- nn
<?"
So you sou when Sunday morning
arrives he lias not the required
dime with which to pay for a shave.
The next week, by denying himself a
pair of socks and by upending
liis cutis, he saves a dime and
meet* his barber bill. Wo, of course, '
are careful never to trust a young man I
of thn class for more than one shave, j
for were we to do so it would be ut- !
t: rlv impossible for him to ever cat h 1
up, and then we would not only lose !
t ie twenty c. nts but tho patronage as
well. I o:tvn advi-c young fellows to
cut themselves loisjfrom buttonhole
1 ouquets, 'shine?,' candy and such
luxuries,- but they would invariably
tell me that they would be no good jis
mashers if t'ley were to do so. You
ask what a 'dickey' is, why bless my
heart, you are a green one. A 'dickey'
is a paper bosom, made so that it can
le easily mistaken l'or a $3 shirt. Oh,
yes, many gentleman wear them. I
venture that half the young men of
Cleveland aresiaves to the terrible deceptive
' dickey.' "Cleveland Leadtr.
IN THE MICERATOR'S JA WS.
WHAT TBS UNITED STATES DOES
WITH WOHWOUT MONEY.
Ground to Pnlp and S >lil to Pnpcr !>laUei??
An AvcranoVf S2?00<),000 a Year Ncvrr
l're.ient. U liet Redemption.
A Washington letter-writer lias aaa
an interview with the United States
treasurer in regard to the final disposition
of womout notes sent to the
treasury department for redemption.
The correspondent asked:
' What is done with this worn and
mutilat.-d money when it is presented
for exchange?"
"It is sent to the ' raacerator,' a big
iron machine in the basement of this
building, where it is ground to pulp,
and the pulp soil to paper makers,
who get the color out of it and make
it into paper again."
" You used to burn it, did you not?"
"Yes, but the present system was
found preferable, as it destroys the
money more effectually, and the sa'.o
of the pulp brings something into the
treasury."
"Are the worn greenbacks redeemed
with other and new greenbacks of the
same denomination?"
"Xot necessariiy. Most of them
are redeemed with new greenbacks,
except where g )1<J, silver or New York
exchange is asked for; but as to denominations.
we usually crive whatever
is asked for.'
Of greenbacks and gold and silver
notes there hal been redeemed this
year up to date $103,000,000, of national
bank nutos, $72,000,000 hadbeeD
sent in for redemption, and $10,000,000
of the lot had been decided " fit" for
circulation and sent out again.
Of the currency thus redeemed, onedollar
notes form a very large proportion.
They are worn out faster than
'iny of the other bills, in spite of the
tact that the silver dollar is constantly
being thrust forward in the vain attempt
to make it take the place of the
greenback dollar. In the redemptions
last year of the greenbacks alone there
were $8,368,000 in one-dollar bills redeemed
and destroyed, 4,010,000 twodollar
bills, 3,544,000 five-dollar bills
and 1,380,030 ten-dollar bills. The life
of the dollar green back appears to be
very brief. Of the 26,000,000 onedollar
notes issued between 1875 and
1879, known as the "issue of 1875/'
25,000,0U0 have come back torn and
ragged and dirty, and been redeemed
with others, bright and new and crisp.
Yet of the 230,000 ten-dollar bills of
the same lot issued at the same time
not half had yet come ba :k at last accounts.
Of the "issue of 1878," which
still continues, 10,000,000 of the 13,000,000
one-dollar bills have come
back, some of them scarcely a year old.
Of the " issue of 1880," which began
three years ago, but is still running,
4,000,000 of the one-dollar fellows
i ,i j - i.i.A n t 4--.,sv
came uacit useu up in me uiai twu
years. The ten-dollar bills are much
longer-lived. Of 158,000 ten-dollar
notes is ued between 1880 and 1882,
only 10,000 came back during those
two years, or about six per cc-nt. of
the whole number issued, while of the
one-dollar bills of the same fcsue
nearly twenty per cent, came back in
the same time. The total amount of
greenbacks and other government ob ligations
(silver certificates, fractional
currency, (tc.) which have been
redeemed and destroyed since tho
beginning of the issue of these obligations
is about $2,500,000,000, nearly
eight times the amount now outstandj
ing, and nearly four times as much as
was afloat in 1865, when the largest
quantity of this sort of obligations
($098,000,000) was in circulation. A
great deal of this money that has been
issued by the government in the past
twenty-two years has never come
back for redemption, and will never
come 1 a?k. The government is gainer
millions upon millions of dollars in
this way. It is estimated by the
treasury department, for instance,
that. si.000.000 was burned ud in the
Chicago fire. Other millions were lost
and destroyed during the war, others
are lost or sunken and blown up in
steamboats, others burne.l in burning
buildings, and many millions were lost
from careless pockets or worn out and
never presented for redemption. Nobody
sees .any paper fractional currency
in circulation now, yet there is
nearly $15,000,000 of it that has never
been presented for redemption. It is
probable th-.it not $1,000,000 of the
$15,000,000, of this still out will
evf r come in. Experts estimate that
at least one per cent, of the money
thus issued bv the government never
comes back for redemption, and that
the government has been gainer from
?35,000,000 to $40,000,000 by this process
in the past twenty years, or nearly
$2,000,000 a year.
Pilncess Louiso.
A writer in the Scotsman draws this
pen picture of Princess Louise, the
wife of Canada's governor-general:
Princess Louise has been styled the
beauty of the royal family. But that
is only by comparison. She has regular
features, an agreeable expression,
true and clean, no nonsense, no falsehood
in it; a fair skin, shoulders which
a sculptor would be under no temptaM?->n
tn pnrr??r?t. in IllOldinff a bust Of
her; an elegant figure, n >t light, not
airy or angelic; a iittle heavy, but pliable
and graceful, and a smile that
lights up her face. Her disposition is
English; that is, serious bu" capable of
humor, and with a keen appreciation
of the finest things and purest things
in art and in life. Least of all Victoria's
children she resembles the old
royal family, and most of all of them
the Gotha branch of the house of
Saxony. She thinks for herself, is independent,
original, sensible and impulsive.
If she had not been drilled
in the experience and restraints of
court, life, her feelings would often
run away with her judgment. She
has a splendid talent for housekeeping. >
without which no woman is fit to live,
even a prnees*. She served an apprentice
at Osborne cottage to a cook,
" * * . XI.:
confectioner, iaunuress ui uas uiiujj>,
seamstress and dressmaker. Every
day for years a dish appeared on the
queen's table, at Osborne that was
made by one of her maji sty's
daughters; oni e a week a tin box full
of cakes, whi h were mixed and baked
by them, was sent to the .lerinan
crown prin -ess, with fruits and llowers
from the cottage garden, Prim ess
Louise started in married life with th?
determination not to be the rival, on
their own ground, of plutocrats' wives.
There was to be comfort as well as
elegance in her establishment, but i o
ostentition. At ltideau Ilall, her
Ca-iadian official abode, she affects
more state. Louise entertains del ightfit'ly.
though she is liable to I'o get
mere feathers and flounces in company
and becomes really at sorbed in intelligent
conversation with a ielect few of
her guesti--.
Under t!:c Ilntbaul.
Gentlemen should never fail to in
vestig.ite beneath the sweat bands of
their new hats. These bands are
stitched in by girls, and it has come to
be quite ;i common tiling for them to
either write their name and a Idress on
the inside of the band, or to write it.
sometimes including a little note, upon
a slip of paper stitclu-d in. If a girl
is of an aspiring nature she honors
only the most expensive hats wit!) In r
name; but oftentimes the name of a
don't-care girl may be found in th:j
plainest kind of a felt s'ouch. It is
authoratively stated th it several good
matches have been cemented upon the
basis of a hatband n >te.? Wa'erbury
Airuriean.
Minneapolis (Minn.) as everybody
know.-1, is the grcatesv dour manufactuiing
city in Am iriea. Its product
in 1882 was 3,124,919 barrels.
Hark! as the twilight pale |j
Tenderly glows, ' %
Hark 1 how the nightingale :|
Wakea from repose I f
Only when, sparkling high, ,
Stars fill the darkling sky, |
Unto the nightingale J
Listens the rose. $
Here where the fountain tide ~ ^
Murmuring flows, . rijHj
Airs from the mountain side $
Fan thy repose.
Eyes of thine glistening, $
Look on me, listening; A
I am thy nightingale, % . }
Thou art my rose. ^
Sweeter the strain he weaves, Ti
Fainter it flows
Now, as her balmy leaves M
Blushingly close. . ?* JSj3
Better than minstrelsy, C. m
Lips that meet kissingly
Silence thy nightingale? H
Kiss me. my rose! fl
?Bayard Taylor (hitherto unpublished).
HUMOR OF THE DAY, IjH
A plucky job?Dressing fowls.
The gossip is liko a bicycle, in that
sh e is exceedingly liable to run a person
Xow is the time to lend your skates
to your poor neighbor. It will show
your generosity.
The New Orleans Picayune raises
the question whether a goat can -bo
relied upon in court as an evidence in
rebuttal. " ,
The most difficult arithmetic that a -A
man has to face is when he tries to re- 3?
concile a f 20 salary with a $30 wife,
" Let every man add a good name to {;|aB
his other capital," quoted the forger ; '^jp
when he fixed up a ten-thousand-dolinr
check.?Drummer.
Women do not marry for love, or
money, or dry goods. They marry in
hope that they may have spring house- ^
cleaning to do,?Courier-Journal.
Doctors are generous men. "Win ;;;
ever knew of a doctor rushing out to p
chase away boys who were taking ' '?S
fruit from his trees ??8omervilUK
To throw a stone at a neighbor's _ V||g
chickens, and have it fly through plate ,-V-a
glass windows, entitles a man to thfi
credit of being a crack shot.?Waterloo V'jgs
"We often hear the expression that ->^8
"the fire has gone? out." And it is .
said that in some of our large places
you can actually see the fire escape,
?Marathon Independent.
"A little too much repose about the .
mouth lor it to be natural," was the .
remark of a husband to a We3t End iqa
photographer who had taken bis wife's
photograph.?Boston Post. / '' yjgB
A little boy astonished his compan- .iaS
ions the other day by telling them i%|S
that he had "a spanking team at -4*%
his house." An excited crowd of boys
had. walked nearly home with him, ^
when one of them asked: "What d'ye .
call 'em?" "Pa aad ma," was the reThe
hair of n giri - employed in an
P-sstern cotton mill was caught in the 5m
machinery, torn oil her head and
ground into bits. But tlie girl didn't v j3g
mind it much. She kept right on at
her work, simply remarking that it
only cost her $4, anyhow. This is one ||
of the advantages of art over nature. >^9
And now the small boy unravels the .
ancient stocking to secure yarn with
which to make a baseball. And when
he has the ball made, he cuts the leg '
off one of his father's boots to make a '.'?4
cover of; and when the parent dis? ; |j
covers the liberty taken with his boot, >
the small boy wishes he had used it as
lining for his trousers.? Puck.
A "fashion" item says: "Thelo^*
Jo tlm rrirtof faahinnalitn ?33m
CJLIgO OUCkjJis lO UUV A&AVrWV AMNM?VMM>N.aW ^ ?J
'or pills, which should be coated with
silver, and look very inviting." Tills
appears to be a new departure in fash- v?J
ion intelligence, and next it will be in 1
Drder to "describe whether the nuw M
shape in porous plasters is octagon or :$j!n
oblong, and if they are trimmed with . V^H
gimp braid or guipure lace; and wo ?"
may be told that the most fashionable
tints in castor oil are terra cotta and .
fawn color; and that liver-pads are cut fgtaBij
in the form of a heart, with scalloped H|ls|
edges, and lined with ciel blue satin.? B*18h
Norristoum Herald.
Anecdote of a Justice. {'-Wjm
About thirty years ago, when
Thomas R. Sherwood, the newly r''C|aS
elected justice of the Michigan supreme
court, was a younger man th^n |s j||
he is now, there was a lawyer
living in Kalama/.oo named N. A. B. I
B. was the possessor of a most irasci- jS
ble temper, and when things did not I
go to suit him he was apt to lose it, I ;ffll
and in the excitement used to throw Q| |ejj
inkstands, compiled laws, supreme
4 ^ -i-1 J
court reports ami oiuei unsauco unuu/, a
at offending lawyers' heads. This 1
would be followed by an arrest and I
fine for contempt of court, and deep y-^l
repentance. B. was a member of the _ ;J
church, and after one of his outbreaks J
he would make public confession, ex- '
press deep contrition and be forgiven. J
After a while these outbursts of
p;ission got to be a great nuisance, and
the lawyers agreed that the next time
he got on the rampage the man toward
whom his wrath was directed was to ~"^jj
take up the quarrel and give Mr. B.
what Paddy gave the drum. At the
next term of court Judge Sherwood
made some remark which enraged
Mr. B., who promptly reciprocated by |
firing a copy of the session laws at his ]
head. Sherwood responded with his j
good riftht arm, and in less than a
minute the lawyers had formed a ring
and Sherwood was knocking B. out in
truly scientific stylt* Soon B. <red
" enough," but was s4 used up that he
had to keep his bed for a week. The
judge fined each of the lighters Siuu. A
popular subscription was raised,
the business men of tlie city chipping
in, and Mr. Sherwood's fine was paid.
Whan able to get out Mr. Ji. again
confessed to lii.s fellow church members,
and he was forgiven. These two
events, being "knocked out" and Mr.
Slierwood's line being paid by popular
subscription, were too much for li.;
his proud spirit was broken, and tver
after he kept his tamper and eschewed ^
emphasizing bis arguments by the aid <
of missiles. i J
A Fire Burning Fifty Years.
A friend sends vour Jack an account j
? " ? ' ? 11.. oi.t. E
ol a lire at a ccuain p?ue iu me otuio
of Pennsvlvana which lias already ~j
burned for more than fifty years, and I
is likely to < < ntinue for years to come. I
The s>tory goe.s < n to say that, about "
half a century ago, some men opened a
mining "drift" (or passage for an
underground road) into a mountain
about four miles from Pott ville, and
that it was m u il, at that time, to build _
a large (ire at the mouth of the drift 1
in midwinter to prevtnt its being '
blotk'd up by snow and ice. Onw
Saturday night iu 1835 the fire was 4
left unguarded, but Monday morning I
disclosed to the miners the result of Sj
their folly. The timber of the drift
had ignited ami the flames had beea
communicated to the coal in the mine.
The mine had to be abandoned, and all j
efforts to quench the fire, which con- jjt
stantly grew more intense, \tere Injfl
soon given up. The underground JJS
(ire had its own way, and in time
turned the mountain into a burning/ . 1
A few vears aero. when I
the ilames were nearer "the sur I
f;u-e tlian now, the sky was lighted >
u;> with a ruddy glare at night, while i
ruin and snow disappeared in clouds jj
of vapor as th(-y fill on the hot, J
parched surface. l'?;ople who endeav- I
ored to open mines in the same vicinity M
have been repea'e lly driven out by th? -yl
fire.?St. Nicholaa* " J