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TWO POOR OLD SOULS. 'Tis Christmas night; the streets are bright, And many windows are alight, And mirth seems monarch everywhere, For sounds of laughter fill the air. But in a little room which knows No gleain save what the fire shows Sit, gazing at the glowing coals, Two poor old souls. Round them no happy children press With words and smiles of toudemess; To them no friends bring greetings gay? Their friends are dead or far away, Or else forgetful. At tlieir gate, Foot deep in snow, no singers wait To cheer with quaint aud jolly trolls These poor old souls. And yet twoicoreof years did he Do much to add to Christmas glee With pictures drawn with cunning art By skilful band from gentle heart, And she has told of Christmas time A hundred tales in prose and rhyme. Now recompense no creature dole3 The:e poor old souls. And many a feast, in days gone by, They've spread, when fortune lingered nigh, And they but little knew of care, And bade their comrades come and share; And there?how joyous was the scene, The walls all hung with Christmas green!? Their healths were drunk in brimming bowls, These poor old souls. But, ah! they faltered in thj ra~e, And newer life sprung to each place, Aud seized the wreaths they'd not resigned; Ami thus, discrowned and loft behind, In time too brief they wore forgot. Alas! it is the common lot, And will be while earth onward rolls, For poor old souls. Left and forgot, until once more Their names are brought the world before, And theu, perchance, some one will tell How such a picture pleased him well, Or such a story gladness shed Upou his children as they jjead; But this will be when death's bell tolls For two old souls. ?Margaret Eytinge, in Harper's Weekly. ON CHRISTMAS EYE. All day long the steel-colored clouds had hung heavily over the snow-mantled hills; all day long the old farmers had nodded the r heads sagely at each other, and said: "There's more snow in the air;" or, "We'regom1 to hev a spell o' weather." But it seemed "that the old farmers were wrong, after all; for just at sunset the clouds parted away, the sun, all garlanded with golden beams, laughed over the frozen laudscape, and the beautiful evening star came to keep his sncred vigil above tbe Christmas Eve. 'An ideal view," said Mr. Mackenzie,* stopping on the crest of the hill to observe the sweet serenity of the. old church, garrisoned with leailess poplar trees,and the frozen river which reflects the red sunset in front; the solemn majesty of the White Mountain range beyond. "Upon my word, we sojourners in the ! semi-tropical valleys of Santa Barbara haven't any conception what the word Christmas' really means! I should like to be artist enough to paint this scene. Let me see. 'The first house after you pass the toll-gate; painted red, with white trimmings; gable toward the road; old well-sweep to the rear.' Yes," with a nod of the head, "this is it!" Mr. Rolf Mackenzie was coming East after ten yea: s' residence on the fair Pa-' cific coa t. He had gone thither to make his fortune. He had made it, and now he was on the way to fulfill an old loveengagement with Mary Brown. They had become affiaui cd ten years ago. I nlike the generality of men, Rolf Mackenzie was steadfast and true, even though ail these converging years, he had gradually become aware of an evergrowing uncongeniality between himself and Mary Brown. "It would have been better for both of us it' 1 had left myself unfettered," he thought. "In tlio-e days I did not know wh tt I wanted, and I suppose she didn't, either. But a promise is a promise, and I dare cay Mary will make a good wife to me. I suppose I shall find her changed. I'm changed myself When a man has tided over his thirtieth year, he can't expect Time to deal gently with him"' And with these rather unlover-like meditations, Mr. Mackenzie rapped on the door of the red house with the Lombsrdy poplars in front of it and the wellsweep behind. It was all new to him. He had been only in the second year of his sojourn in California, when Mary's father, Bela Brown, had sold out the old Vermont homestead and moved up into the Maine forests. But what were ^ few score of miles, more or less, to a man who has ] crowed the Sierra Nevndas and eaten sandwiches on the precipices of Cape Horn? He ra; ped again. There was no answer, and he did what he would have done at a Los Angeles ranch?opened the doO/ and walked in. The room was bright with blazing logs and candle shine. The mantle was decorated with clusters of holly; wreaths of laurel leaves glistened overhead, and festoons of the beautiful princess pine were fastened over the che ip engravings and the "Map of the United States'' on the walls. The kettle sang; the cushioned rocking-cha'r was drawn up in front of the hearth, and a volume of Jean Ingelow's poems lay open on the round worktable. "As pretty an interior as ever I saw in my life," said Mr. MocKenzie, looking comnlacently round. "Geraniums in the window; holly and laurel loaves; Jean Iu<.e'.ow! 1 begin to have new hopes of >! aty, after all. She has kept pace with the times a little." At this moment there was ft little shriek. The door leading into the backkitchen had opened; a lovely young woman, in * deep-blue merino dress, with h.ops of paler b'ue ribbon in her hair, stood in the porfcd, with a glass dish of apple-sauce in her hand. , "Mary!" Rolf Macken'ie held out both hands. He meant to have ad>anced boldly and kissed her, as a man should salute his fiancee, but a certain sense of propriety prevented any such demonstration. "You are not frightened, are you? It's only I." "(Jnlv you." The blue eyes? Mary Brown's eyes had deepened and grown larger and more liquid, it seemed?were fixed wistfully upon his lacc, as if she did not quite understand. "Didn't you get my letter?" "No. What letter?" "I pon my word," said Mr. Mackenzie "anything like the stupidity of our postal arrangements, I nevor knew. I mailed that letter just one week before I started. So I've taken you by surprise eh?" "Y?yes." murmured Mary, blushing delightfully. "Well, welL Father Time had not I been so rough with Mary Brown after all," thought Holt. For a girl of thirty, she really had a wonderful complexion?and that way of crimping her red-gold tresses all over her head was extremely becoming. It made her look full ten years younger than her actual age. But you are glad tDsee me, Mary?" Something of the old romantic tenderness?a sensation that he had deemed dead and buried long ago?had risen up into his heart, and quivered in his voice. It was all right. He was as much in love as ever! "Father will be glad to see you, I dare say," demurely answered Mary. "Please to sit down, Mr.?Mr.?" "No 'Mr.' at all,'' said Mackenzie, half vexed, half amused, at this very evident coquetry. "Call me Rolf, why don't you?" The large lashes fell over the blue eyes. "Rolf rounds so very familiar," she murmured. "But I call you Mary, don't I?" "Oh, yes, but you arc so much older tbau I am.-' He bit his lip. So far as he could remember there was just eighteen months' dilfcrence in their ages. But upon these enK5n/*fa nnn OAnl^n^. VPrtf Wftll rnntrfl. diet a lady. "Is your father well?" he asked, by way of starling upon a new and entirely safe topic, as he watched Mary's nimble fingers?how plump and dimple they were, to-be-sure!?arrange the drapery and set the rouud table for the coming meal. "Quite well," answered Mary, expect him in every minute. He went over to Berksdale to a funeral this afternoon, and people have no sort of conscience about letting him come home in decent time. I suppose he is a comfort where there is an iliuess or death." Mackenzie lifted his eyebrows interrogatively. Bela Brown was a very worthy man, a; he remembered him, but short of speech, and entirely devoid of imaginative qualities. If he was a comfort to bereaved souls, it must have been a talent which he had developed very recently. But he made rift pnmmAnf. nn f.hft fjtrt "Fine wintry weather," he remarked. ''Quite so," said Mary. "A decided contrast to the climate I have left." "Yes?" questioningly. "May I ask where?" "The little coquette I What will she pretend to be ignorant of ncxtl" thought Mackenzie. | But he only answered, pleasantly: "Santa Barbara, you know. Under the Coast Range." "Oh, iranta Barbara!" Her pretty, oval face brighteacd. "I've heard so much about Santa Barbara of late, from a neighbor of ours!" "Ah!" said Rolf. Mary sat down now, and folded her hands on her lap, with her sweet face turned away from the fire, and her large, blue black eye9 sparkling with anirna tion. "I wonder," said she, musingly, "if you have ever met a Mr. Mackenzie there?" "A?Mr.?Mackenzie!" ho repeated, wondering-what the meaning of all this was. "It isn't a great place, like New York or Boston, you know," reasoned Mary. "People do meet each other there?" "Oh, yes; certainly." "And this Mr. Mackenzie? He was tall and good-looking, with dark eyes and a heavy beard." 'Well, yes, it does seem to me a? if I had met him once or twice," said Mackenzie, grimly determined to let Mary cairy the joke as far as she pleased. "Well," snid Mary, smiling roguishly, "it seems that Mr. Mackenzie, of Santa Barbara, is engaged to our nearest^ncighbor?a young woman up toward Cedar Kiver?only ubout half a mile from here, if one goes through the woods; and what is very funny, her name is just the same ns mine?Mary Brown!" "Eh?' gasped Mr. Mackenzie. "She isn't so very pretty," added Mary. "She's not young, you know,and her hair is thin, and she wears a frisette, and somehow it seems to alter the whole expression of her face. And her sight lias failed, doing line sowing, ana sue has been obliged to take to spectacles. And she's?on, so slim, and 3pare, and sharp-elbowed!" Air. Mackenzie sat holding tight on to the arm ot his easy chair, while a sensation akin the trickling of ice-cold water down his back took possession of him. He comprehended it all now. He had found the wrong Mary Brown this Christmas Eve. '1 he right Mary Brown was still waiting, Gorgon-like, to turn him to stone. "But for all that," chirped on this sweet voiced siren, "Mr. Thomas Briggs ?he keeps the toll-gate just below?has fallen in love with her. And?they are married. Father married them, and he got his fee in cider, apple sauce and pumpkins," she added, with a laugh. "And since 'the wedding she has got a | letter from this very Mr. Mackenzie? i T?.ilnh Mnrkpnzip. of Kueben. or some ' such name?that he is coming home this ' Christmas to marry her. It was an old i engagement, she says; but he hadn't , written very regularly, and she didn't think he intended to keep his word. And Briggs w.:8 here on the spot." "Yes?exactly!" said Mr. Mackenzie, | with some difficulty curbing his extreme desire to jump up and fling his hat into the air. "L'riggs was on the spot!" "But," resumed Mary, "what will the poor man say when he gets home and 1 tind3 his sweetheart married to some one else?" j "I should think," answered Macken1 zic, "that he would say it was the luckitst cscape he had ever had in his life!" j "But he was her lover once!" "Y?yes; but that was ten years ago. These long engagements take all the life out of a love affair. Mackenzie was reaJy and willing to marry her, but " "Oh!" cried Mary, with a little ri.-ing inflection, "then you did know him well;" i "Like a book!" cried the visitor, glee-. ; fully. "In fact, I'm Mackenzie myself? ! Iiolf Mackenzie! And?I beg a thousand pardons, I am sure, but I fancied you ; were Maiy Brown,grown younger instead : of older. I might have known that time never went backward." 'Oh!" cried Mary. "And I " i "You've told the truth," said Macken: zie. "It's always the best thing to do." "Was it a dreadful blow?" svmpathetI icallv murmured Mary. "Did it take ' vou by surprise?" ' ' - II -i. -11 t T | "iNOC a DlOW, ill mi; uuii b i iuii jimi ' it's a relief? But now, Miss Mary, I suppose I must go right on." I "It's very cold." said Mary, "and this ! road is frightfully solitary. And they ! even talk of some one's having seen a bear somewhere on that mountain ledge last week. You?you'd better stay with father until morning. I am sure he would i be happy to entertaiu you." "Andyou, Miss Mary?' pleadingly "Why," she said, with the same arch sparkle under her eyelashes, "I should j like to hear all about Mr. Mackenzie, of | Santa Barbara. It gives one such a new idea of life, you seef" I "Very well, then," said Mackenzie; | "I'll stay." Presently tho old clergyman, Mary Brown's father, came in, and renewed bis daughter's hospitable entreaties. Mr. Mackenzie spent Christmas Eve at ilie jjarauuugt;* On Christmas Day he walked over to Bela Brown's, -where he congratulated the bride?a faded, washed-out looking woman now?and shook hands with the groom most cordially. "I hope you don'D lay up nothin' agin me,'said Mr. Thomas Briggs, rolling his light eyes solicitously around in theii sockcts. "Not in the least. I wish you a merry Christmas!" cried Mackenzie. "And I dare say Mary will make you the best wife in the world!" "But I'm sorry you sot so fur outen the road last night," said Briggs. "When I said the first house beyond the toll-gate, I meant on the left-hand side, not the right." "Oh, it does not in the least signify!" said Mackenzie, genially. "The Rev. Mr. Brown entertained me most cordially." And thus basely did he conceal the secrct of his kind apprehension. Men arc, morally speaking, rank cowards. Perhaps it is unnecessary to add that Mr. Mackenzie married Miss Mary Brown, after all. "And it's jest as well," said the tollkeeper's bride. "I could never hev brung myself to go so fur West. And they do say the climate '11 agree fust-rate with old Parson Brown's bronical tubes. Mary she's young and flighty, but of course my Cousiu Bolf has a right to marry as he pleases." And the next Christmas Eve was spent by Mr. and Mrs. Ilolf Mackenzie under the shadow of the palms and manzanitotrces of sweet Santa Barbara.?Helen Forrest Graves. Bennett and the Waiter. A writer in the Brooklyn Eagle tells this story about James Gordon Bennett, proprietor of the New York Herald: On New Years night three years ago, when Mr. Bennett reached the Union Club well nigh exhausted with the social duties of the day, he noticed in a dazed uort of way that several of the club met were presenting .Jacob,the veteran waiter, who looks after the coats and canes of the members, with more or less small change as an earnest of their sincere regard. Mr. Bennett seemed to realize that, something of the kiud was expected of him and called Jacob. ' Jacob," he said, "you are a good fellow. Here is something for you," and with much fumbling he hrnnoht out a $20 bill, which the de lighted Jacob accepted with many bows aud scrapes. "Stop, Jacob," said Mr. Bennett, feeling in anther pocket and producing another bill. Jacob, overpowered," was making off when "Stop Jacob" again brought him to a standstill, and still another bill made its appearance. rlhe comedy was getting amusing and went on until Jacob had a hat full of money?all Mr. Eenuett had. The old man consulted some of the members as to what he should do with it and was advised to tell Mr. Bennett the next day that he must have overpaid him in a fit of abstraction. So, when the proprietor of the Herald arrived at the club the following day Jacob said: "Mr. Bennett, I think you pave me more for my New Year's than you intended." Bennett probably had no recollection of giving Jacob anything, but he replied in His gravest tone: "How much did I give you, Jacob;" "Eight hundred dollars, sir." Such an answer might have staggered even a man with an income of $1,000 a day, but Bennett, without a suggestion of surprise, said: "Cuite right, Jacob; that was what I intended to give you." Ben. Franklin's Parents. Benjamin Franklin's father pursued his culling in Boston, and died there January 10, 1745. He, his wife and others of his relatives were buried near the center of the Granary Burying Ground, on Tremont street, and over the tomb has been raised by liberal citizens of Boston a neat, Granite obelisk twenty-one feet in height,and bearing among other inscriptions the following, copied from an earlier stone, and composed by their sou feajamin: t : JOSIAH FRANKLIN AND ABIAH HIS ! : WIFE LIB HERB INTERRED. : : They lived lovingly together in : ; wedlock fifty-five years, and without : : an estate or any gainful employ- : : ment. By constant labor and honest : ; industry..maintained a large family : : comfortably, and brought up thir- : : teen children and seven grand', hil- : : dren, respectably. From this in- ; ; stance, reader, be encouraged to dil- : ; igence in thy calling, and distrust : : not Proviilenca J : He was a pious and prudent man; ; . she a discreet and virtuous woman. ; : * THEIR YOUNGEST SON IN FILIAL REGARD TO THEIR MEM- 1 : : ORT PLACES THIS STONE. % : * ?Cincinnati Commercial Gazette. National Anthems.. We find the following in the "Notes and Queried" column of the San Fnncistfo Call: Referring to a recent inquiry and reply in this column concerning the American na ional anthem, a correspondent sends the fol owing, showing that there is some dist nction between the "National Anthem" and what he terms the "Official Anthem.'' "The American ofticral anthem is 'The Star Spangled Banner.' This is played at 'colors' and whenever men-of war are put into commission. The tune ot America' is known only as 'God Save the Queen' to foreign navies. 'Hail Columbia' is by some thought a national air, but is really 'Rule Britannia.' English bands will not play 'The Star Spangled Banner' if they can avoid it. On several occasions English men-of-war have been notified by American officers that unless they played it that the American band would cease to play 'God Save the Queen.' When several vessels of different nationalities nre present at sundown each band plays the national air of each country having a vessel present." Would Do Better Next Time. It is related by the gossips that when Mr. X., a wealthy and aggressively aristocratic denizen of the sacred slopes of Beacon Hill, brougnt norm ms tmra wife he was not wholly pleased with the attitude of the grown up daughters of his first marriage toward their newest mother. He sumraoncd the boldest and most aggressive daughter to a private conference, and in good, sef terms reproved her for her coldness to his bride. The damsel listened with respectful patience duetoward the author 01 her being, and when he had finished his reprimand gave promise of amendment by saying with demure impudence' "Exouse me, p pa; I will try and do better the next time you are married."?Boston Record. A big gopher snake vras killed recently at Daytona, Fla., in whoso stomheh was found a three-loot ratt.e snake still alive. The gopher was over six feet in length. ~ THE HERMITAGE. A VISIT TO THE OLD HOME OF GENERAL JACKSON. "Old Hickory's" Dwelling Place in Life and Death Near Nashville ?Historic Indies?Tomb of Husband and Wife. A Nashville (Tenn.) letter to the San Francisco Call says: In the very heart of the city, on a commanding elevated site, stands the old Polk re-idence, and in its grounds a modest tomb, beneath which repose the ashes of Jamca K. Polk, the President of whom it could truthfully be written: The beauty of virtue was illustrated in his life; The excellence of Christianity exemplified in his death. The crowding sleps of tho business world are fast appro Jthing this locality, and it is only a i.u istion of time when tho valuable grounds will be covcred by handsome re-idencc u. A general desire is expressed by tho older citizens that the remains of Tennessee's threa Presidents? Jackson, Polk and Johnson? should be placed on Capitol Hill, a::d although there are at present some difficulties in the way, yet the fitness of such a placement of thtse sacred ashes will some day become imperatively manifest and such an appropriate disposition of them -will be made. Some twelve miles out of the Lebanon turnpike a narrow road turns abruptly to the left, in the voods, and following it for a few minutes a double gate is reached?the entrac ce to the Hermitage , grounds. A semi-circular drive through I an avoniia r>f r?prlfir< tonria tn flip liinfnrir old house. Nearly all of these cedars are dead and their bare limbs; and blackened trunks are in keeping with the tone of moulder and decay which permeates all the surroundings. The frost has already touched the living Irees, and the ground is deeply carpetcd ivith fallen leaves, to which additions are constantly being mads by every whisper of the pr ssing breeze. The houso is an ancient twostory building; a wide porch, above and below, runs across i;he entire front; six large fluted wocdcn columns, crowned by capitals of carved leaves, give an air of imposing solidity, and brick one-story wings some twenty feet square, o:n either side, with doors ope ningfroin the porch, show that comfort a id convenience rather than architectural affect was consulted in the erection. At the broad centre door is met o'd Alfred, the well known colored servant of the General. Hi) was born a ? lave on the estate, March :.0, 1808, and is the only living landmark* of the ".i'ackson times." Slavery or freedom is all the same to him. He "always belonged to the Jacktons," and desires to die on the old ground. He shows us through the great hall, into which the cent re door opens. This hall ii papered with an an cleat material, illustrating landscapes and mythological scenes, the colors of which are still bright here and there, tut the paper is crura Dling surely to decay. In this hall is ar. arm-chair formerly owned by General Washington, busts of Chancellor Livingstone and Lewis Cass, a portrait of Thomas Jefferson, the oldfashioned mahogany sofas and chairs and the once elegant c'landeliers wii:h their lamps lor burning lard oil. In a large room to the left, and the only one snown to visitors, are callected the many relics of the past. Portraits of the General by Earl and Healy (tlie latter one finished but four days beifore the President's death) and a marble bust, together with an equestrian portrait, gives a correct idia of the feature* of the illustrious men. Many articles of foreign make and exquisite workmanship, in the shape of iulaid tabl?s cabinets, chairs, vases, urns, clocks, silverware, etc., evident e the esteem of friends at home and abroad, while pipes, warclubs and curioisly braided Indian handiwork show that the dusky red men remembered Androw Jackson. I:i a little mhinet with alass doora are mfiiiv relics. prominent among which are a British bayonet, partly imbedded in solid oak. taken from a tree ufter the battle of New Orleans, and a snuff-box, on the lid of which is a bullet neeived by the Ceneral in a duel. The Jloor is covered with a velvet carpet of the old time3, which still retuins its bright colors, elasticity and richness. A Gilbert piano of 1832 gives but a brolsen and mournful response to the touch, but the black marblo mantels, facings, and tableB^are as beautiful to-day as ever. A Latin Bible of 15(J3 and one in Sanscrit, written by monks on vellum, are worthy objects of interest. Near the Hermitage stnnd three old log houses, now used as negro quarters, but; which formerly were all together and for many years the headquarters and i -1 il. ri 1 v_ -r ik. I uojne ui iuu otuunu, ueiuiciuc iiuuiunge wfl8 built. A abort walk through the tangled gnrde:i, with its fences falling to decay, and the corner is reached, where a number of graves nre marked by small monuments and headstones. On one of these we read: "In memory of R. E. W. Earl, artist, friend and com panion of Qener 1 Andrew Jackson, who died at the L'ermitage, the tlth September, 18^7." On another: "Andrew Jackson, adopted soli of General Andrew Jackson, who died at the Hermitage, April 17,' 18(55, in the 57th year of his age." "Another: "Captain . amuel Jackson, son of Andrew and Sarah Jackson, born at the Hermitage, June P, 18;>7; died September 25), lsfifl, of wounds received at the battle of Chickamanga." Near these stands the tomb, pagoda shape, with eight pillars, and three steps leading to the floor, beneath which rest ii : e a_j iv,{h 11JO iCIUttJUrt Ui AUUrevv ttt;rv?Uii auu UIO wife Rachel In the centre of the floor Btuncls a modest monument, on either 6ide of which is a plain slab, on one of which is simply inscribed: : General Andrew Jackson, : : Born March 15, 1767. : Died JuneS, 1845. : And on the other, evidently written by the husband's loving haud: . : Mr?. Rachel Jackson, : : Who died the 22d December, IS28, : I a^ed HI. ; ; Her face was fair, her person pleas- : : ing, her temrer amiable, ana her : : heart kind. She was delight Mi. in re- : i : lie ving the wants of her fallow crea'- : j ! ures, and cultivated that divine : ; pleasure by the' most liberal a ail un- : : pretembug methods. To tho poor : ; she was a benefactor, to the rich an : ; example, to the wretched a conifor- : : tar, to the prosperous an ormuneat. : ( : Her piety went hand iu hand with ; ; bor beuevolen e, and she than! ed her : 1 : Creator for bjing permitted to do : : good. A bein,: so gentle, an J yet so : ; virtuous, slander might wound, but : could not dishonor. Even Death, : ; when he tore .aer from the arms of : ; her husband, CDuld but transport her : ; to the bosom of her God. Around the sacred spot wavo the magnolia. hickory, cak, hawthorn and wil' low. Of these latter, there are four splendid trees that have grown from i twigs cut by th(: General's hand on the I Jay ho buried his wife, and. by him < 1 ? planted where they now stand. The i creeping myrtle, with its thousands ol arms, is reaching far and wide in this lonely spot, and its sad grave color is in most fitting keep'ng with the locality. The wind sweeps through the trees, the leaves fall thick and fast, the weird dead old cedars wave their bare and withered branches, the horse's feet fall with a dull thud on the covercd avenue; but a single tree, the holly, with itss arlet berries, speaks of aught but decay. The j gray-haired Alfred says: "God bless | you, massa," an iron gate clangs behind us, and the Hermitage is left in its loneliness. The Greatest of Great Walls. Says a correspondent of the Milling World, who has recently been traveling in China: Of course we had to go to the great wall of China. The country abounds in great walls. Her mural defenses were most extensive?wnllcd country, walled cities, walled villages, walled palaces and temples?wall after wall and wall within wall. But the greatest of all is the great wall of China, which crests the mountain range and crosses the gorge from here some forty mile? away. Squeezing through the last deep gorge and a deep rift in the solid rock cut out by ages of roliing wheels and tramping feet, we reach the great, frowning, double-bastioned gate of stone aud hard-burned brick?one archway tumbled in. This was the object of our mission, the great wall of China, built '213 years before our era; built of huge slabs of well-hewn stone, lai I in regular courses some tweuty feet high and then topped out with large, hard-burned bricks, filled in with earth and closely paved on the top with more dark, tawny brick?the ramparts high and thick and castellated for the use of arms, liight and left the great wall sprang far up the mountain side?now straight, now curved, to meet the mountain ridge, QftA fnnf o frnxxrninor mnflfl tuncigu buv.u yvv avwv ? w ??... of masonry. No need to tell you of this wall; tho books will tell you how it was built to keep the warlike Tartars out?twenty-five feet high by forty thick, 1,200 miles long, with room on top for six horses to be driven abreast. Nor need I tell you that 1,400 years it kept tho e hordes at bay, nor that, in the main, the material u^cd upon it is just as good and firm and strong as when put in place. Twelve hundred miles of this gigantic work built cn the rugged, craggy mountain tons, vaulting over gorges, spanning wide streams, netting tho river arc..ways with huge hard bars of copper, with double ^ates? swinging dcors and bars set thick with iron armor?a wonder in the world before which the old-time classic seven wonders, all gone now save tho great pyra* mid. were toys. The great pyramid has 85,COO,000 cubic feet,*the great wall 6,300,000,000 c.ibic feet. An engineer in Seward's party heie some years ago gave it as his opinion that the cost of this wall, figuring labor at the same rate, would more than equal that of all the 100,000 miles of railroad in the United States. The material it contains would build a wa'l six feet high and two feet thick right straight around the globe. Yet this was done in only twenty years without a trace of debt or bond. It is the greatest individual labor the world has ever known. Manna. Manna,well known to possess valuable medicinal properties, is produced by a kind of ash tree found in Eastern countries, called the flowering ash, often cultivated in Kurope and sometimes in this country for an ornament. It is a small tree, rarely over thirty feet high, but very showy on account of its large clusters of greenish-white flowers. Sicily i* the chief sourcc of manna. In that country the trees arc planted in plantations,and when about eight years old they begin to yield. Cuts an inch and a half to two.inches long are made in the bark, cutting through to the wood. One cut is made daily, beginning near the bottom of the trunk, with each succeeding cut about an inch above the former one. The thick, syrup like juice exudes from the cuts, and hardens on the bark into white, spongy flakes, which, when hard enough, are removed and dried still further before they are packed for commerce. It consist* mainly of a form of sugar called manite,and has mild,laxative properties. There are. in drv. Oriental countries,sev eral other trees and shrubs also, which yield manna, usually, when punctured.by insects: but little is known of these kinds of manna outside of the localities that produce them. Even some of those plants, low in the order of vegetation?known as lichens?produce manna. These are ' like the plants often .seen on old trees and on rocks, which are incorrectly called ''m osses." Several of these, which grow very rapidly on the ground, are incrusted with a sort of sugar or manna. These in tim-j dry up, when they are carried by the winds to a great distance. These !i(hens occasionally occur at* the present time in Western Asia and Northern Africa, and are eaten by the inhabitants, and also by sheep and other animals. Hints for Fat People. The American, relieved of the onerous duties of settlement life, has long sinoe ceased to be the lean, cadaverous dys- j peptic that he was pictured to be. His > Anglo-Saxon blood is beginning to manifest itself in the storing up of tissue. In other words, he is John Bull's nuraistaknble offspring, and the old gentleman's paunch is beginning to show on him. The American of both sexes and of all conditions is certainly getting fat. Neither of them likes the new contour, and hence the popularity of the scores of systems of reducing corpulence. A good weight at maiurity is not unhealthful. Even nsupembnndance of tissue fs not a serious disadvantage. As age approaches after a certain point it will begin to disappear naturally, but it is unsafe as well as painful to attempt to remove it by medication or any other process b yood what a fair share of evercise will do. Rapid reduction of weight involves a corresponding depletion of the system, a decided lowering of vitality, a larger predisposition to disease and a pretty jure Invitation to consumption. Let the fat stay; it will do less harm than drugs. ?Brooklyn Citizen. Who Was Napoleon? Ponisi?''Now. speaking of great men, what do you think of Napoleon L'onaparte?" Atiss Poindexter (from Philadelphia) ?"Pshaw! he was nobody. Who was his g andfather?" Miss Bunkcrlnll (from Boston") ?"I don't think he could have amounted to much; he had no middle name."' Miss Gotham (from New York)? "How much was he worth?" Miss Porcine (from Chicago) -"Did he make his money before the fire, or sinre?" Miss Montespan (from St. Louis)? 'Did he belong to one of our old French families?" Miss Mount Vernon (from Baltimore) ? "I never heard of him; but stay? wasn't he some sort of relation to the Baltimore Bonapartesf"?Baltimore Herald. HOUSEHOLD HATTERS. Waste In the Kitchen. Waste in the kitchen is often very great from apparently trivial sources. In cooking meats the water is thrown out without removing the grease, or the grease from the dripping-pan is thrown way. Scraps of meat are thrown away. Cold potatoes are left to sour aaf spoil. Dried fruits are not looked after aatf become wormy. Vinegar and sauco are left standing it tin. Apples are left to decay for want of; "sorting over." The tea-canister is left open. Victuals are left exposed to b? eaten by mice. Bone3 of meat and the carcass of turkey are thrown away, when they could be used in making good soups. Sugar, tea, (o Ice and rice are carelessly spilled in the handling. Soap is left to dissolye and waste in the water. Dish towels are used for dish-cloths. Napkins are used for dish-towels. Towels are used for holders. Brooms and mops ars not hung up. More coal is burned than necessary by not arranging dampers when not using the lire. Lights are left burning when not used. Tin dishes are not properly cleansed and dried. Good new brooms are used in scrubbing kitchen lloors. Silver spoons are used in scraping kettles. Cream is left to mould and spoil. Mustard is left to spoil in the cruse, etc. Pickles become spoiled by the leaking out or evaporation of the vinegar. Pork spoils for want of salt, and bceX because the brine wants scalding. Hams become tainted or filled witil -~*??in for want of care. Cheese moulds and is eaten by mice and vermin. Tea and coffce pots are injured on the stove. Wood en ware is unscalded and left to warp and crack. Recipes. Ego Soup.?Beat a tablespoonful of flour in a teaspoonful of cold stock, and put in four eggs; throw them into boiling stock, stirring all the time. Add two small blades of mace. Boil fifteen minutes. Reason, and serve with a French roll in the tureen, or with small bits of bread. Lemon* Pot Pie.?Two lemons, one cup of sugar, one cup of molasses, one cup of water; cut the lemon into small pieces and put it over the fire with tho water and cook fifteen minutes, then put in the sugar and molasses, with a little salt; when this boils put in some; dumplings made of one quart of flour, two table-poonfuls cream of tartar and one of soda; some perfer baking powder. CnicKEN Pie.?Joint and boil two chickens in suited water, just enough to cover them, till they are nearly done. Line a good-sized earthen or tin pan a nvnet r*nf.-in fhe /?Tiiplrpn tuldincr TTiKli " UUV, ? , O thin slices of Droiled salt pork, say onehalf pound of it; season it well, dredge in a little flour, add enough of the liquor it was boiled in to fill the dish. Cover with quite a thick crust, pinch down the sides well, cut a slit in the middle of the top crust and bake nearly an hour in a good oven. Watek Pound Cake.?One pound of butter, one pound of powderea sugar, four eggs, one cu; fill of boiling water, one pound of prepared flour, flavor with icmon. Beat butter, sugar, and the yolks of the eggs to a cream, then add the boiling water and stir gently till cold, then the pound of flour with the whites of the eggs, which have been beaten to a stiff froth, the lemon last; bake one hour. This cake cannot be told from real pound cake, and it will keep two weeks. Tom Thumb Omelettes.-- Eight eggs, half-cup of rich milk, salt and pepper, tablespoonful of cheese; beat the eggs light, season, stir in the milk, the graled cheese. Half fill eight patty pans, buttered, and set in a dripping-pan with half an inch of boiling water in it; shut up in a quick oven, and us soon as they are "set" turn out on a hot dish. You may vary the dish by substituting minced parsley and thyme for the grated chcese, and when di>hed pour drawn butter over the omelettes. They make a pretty show when garnished - with curled parsley, a tiny sprig being stuck in the middle of each mold. Roofs of New York Houses. "We find the following in "Hermit's" New York letter to the Troy Times: A metal expert informs me that the supply of tin the past year from all sources is ltf,p)63 tons. Reference is here made to the solid metal which is used for coating iron, aud one mny infer from the figures the immense amount of ro'fiug and other purposes to which this article is applied. I ar#e as this amount may seem, it is really a short supply, being 2,000 tons less than the previous year. Many of our readers can remember the time when tin-roofing was a rarity, but now it is in alihost u liversal use.in great cities. In old ^imes shingles were used in this c"ty, ana many o;a Duuaings 01 this kind still remain. Even St. Paul's Church had a shingle roof until witliin a few years ago, wheu it was replaced by one of metal. The city hall is roofed with copper) but Trinity Church roof is lead. The most solid roof in the city covers the treasury building, corner Wall and Nassau streets. It consists of marble slabs overlapping liko shingles, and is probably the most durab'e ot all materials, but the weight is so enormous that it has never been repeated. A few of the old Dutch tile roofs still remain, some of them being more than one hundred years old. They are among the last memorials of a time when almost every thing was Hutch, and when even brick were imported from Holland. "The Wire Fcnee Man." The ' wire fence ma \" is a new swindler working the farmers. His modus operandi is thus described: He wants the privilege of exhibiting his wire fence stretcher machine to farmers in your township on your farm, and for which privilege he will build you thirty or forty rods of good fencj for exhibition, and all that i.c nsks of you is to board him, go after the machine at the nearest depot, and pay the chargcs, not nv/>nnfi ?:-t fnr the fence all set ud ! where you want it. In order to have all satisfa tory, and as a warrant of the farmer's gcod intentions, he requires him to sign a written contract on a postal card, which he mails to his partner, and which proves to be an order for the machine, price $200, worth about $25. After the macliinc arrives a new man turns up with his postal order for the machine, and requires payment of $200 as per agreement on card, lie claims to be attorney for the company, and threatens to sue in the United States Court at I tica Mntil he gets the note. ? Connecticut Western News. , CHINESE JUSTICE. : "> * SUMMARY METHODS OP DEAD- | IMG WITH CRIMINALS. Executioners, Who Wield Large ^ Swords With Deadljb Will? Substitutes Who 8ell Their Lives for Fifty Dollars. The Chinese method of procedure Is this: No special detectives or posse are required to arrest the culprit. If he is not sccured red-handed by the neighbors or bystanders, the friends, relatives or < . :lan*of the victim may be relied upon to bring the sla\cr along. He is hauled straight into the presence of the nearest ritting Magistrate aud the cise disposed jf there and then. Sentence is passed it that identical sitting, without any postponements, and the only delay is while it has to be ratified from the Board of Punishments at the Tsung liYnmen. This tr.banal requires a syllabus of the case as a matter of form, but I >1mr>3t invflrinhlv and on nrincinle in dorses the verdict of the Magistrate. No counsel are employed, aud the culprit makes no appeal, nor does he have an opportunity of challenging the jury, because his fate is in the hands of one man, wd though sometimes fas in most civilized countrrcs too) money will turn iside the sword of justice, it then only remains for the murdered man's faction to see the issue out?lynch law and its immunities being recognized' in Chin* too. 'i An ordinary decapitation may be described as follows: The death order his arrived from Pckio, and the condemned is given as few hours as possible before sundown of the same day.' Like our * Western institution, he is allowed as r good a meal ns he likes to take, and what is more desirable still, enough rice-distilled spirit to almost stupefy him. Then he is stripped to the waist, bis hands tied behind his ba k. and marched off to the scene of execution. Perhaps sev- ~ oral other cases have been dealt with in the same dispatch from the Board o! Punishment, and th n there is a batch to be disposed of, whi.h makes it less desirable, as affecting the city editor's def?artment of the local press; but the pubic are treated to one great collection of portraits, biography and incident, and then the Chiueie paterfamilias has no need to keep a continuance of detail from the reading of his famfty. The execution ground is usually a oniiawt nf anmo nnnrtcr nf tmilonn P.vflrv side, with a Ynmcn or grand stand at its northern end, for the accommodation of the principal officers of the show. In the open ground in front of the dais of the chairman of the proceedings is' a small sanded patch where the butchery is per-foimed. The public are freely invited, and patronize, the entertainment in such numbers that, unlike here, there is very' little that a few favored chroniclers can tell of it that would come nnder the heading of news. The culprits kneel in ft little group at the side of tho sand-patoh, j' under charge of a few soldiers, invariably exhibiting stolid indifference and lack of emotional fear. There are no addresses to the crowd, or cries of mercy or fainting away, nor any of those scaffold-scene demonstrations which our reporters so love to revel in. The same sort of thing has been going on for thousands of years in China, so that conventionality has taught the sufferer how to behave. Perhaps N"o. 2 will wince when he sees No. 1's head roll on the sand, but he will step up and kneel down on the 1 bloody spot with sang froid. The executioner, a big burly fellow ft twn hanripri flWnrd. waits & noi or exclamation from the<hairman and the blow that o'lows is"usually enough. While the signal is waiting an assistant has pulled up tho condemned's bound arms from his back so as to force -the i~. neck and h.ai out in position for the stroke, and when it has fallen the trunk is allowed to fall forward lengthwise,the head is removed in a basset to be exhibited somewhere in the vlcinitv of the committal of t.:c crime, and the body. when dragged of to the side, is either left on the ground to be devoured by beast and bird or handed over to the friends. But this is a matter for pecuniary arrangement with tho presiding author- , ities and matters not much either one way or the other if there is not some chance of eventually obtaining the head. ^ The Canton execution ground is littered with human bones, and the city dogs often gather there; but in Soochow and mid-China thi* extremity-ia not much in vogue. There is one peculiar and almost in* credible thing which will givtfa fair idea of how the Chinese regard the death penalty and serving to show what a human life is there valued at. It is an actual fact that in s >me cases substitution can be instituted, ar.d in such cases a substitute can be readily found. Money will secure almo3t anything in this en, !wo Kftpft mf fA llgUlCUCU IVUUllI, UM? ttw uwv J ~~ hear of one who can be paid for execution by proxy. Money nere wilt make men risk Almost certain death, but it is to be doubted whether Vanderbilt had millions enough t > secure a man to stand for hanging in cold blood. Any one acquainted with the ways and customs of China will, however, testify that^SO 4 will at anytime, and in numbers, secure men to step up beneath the executioner's mord and die An explanation can only be given in considering the perfect development of the p itriarchial system fn China; a development which makes it possible for a fam I v or clan to persuade one of its number of the perfect advisa bility or icg.limacy or ms iayiuj< uunu bis minute and valueless life for the benjfit of anything that may accrue to the wrviving struggles. It is a tremendous ind inexplicable theory for us to grapple with, trespassing, as it does, on tne foundation of our.civili at:on. We would ihuddcr at it in the abstract, just as we jh:rk, with our nicotics, all the terrible sides of the struggle for existence. But the Chinaman, toned down by four thousand years of existence, looks all the time with the same material and matterof-fact eye on the value of human flesh and blood as when condemned to take his last turn on the sanded patch.? Sad Francis:o Call. A Pfew Amusement. Several young ladies and gentlemen of St. Joseph have organized a new kind of amusement. It consists of this: A party of eight or ten ride out to the lake rond*. Two goa's are decided upon, and the game of "Indian," 03 thny call it, is engaged in. The rules arc that the gentleman is handicaped by the ladv, she being given one hundred feet the start. The distance is one-half mile. Then the race is made. If the gentleman catches her rein before she crosses the "wire" he, as a forfeit, is entitled to kiss. Failing to do so, the gentleman is obliged to buy the lady a box of gloves. As the Indies ride their own horses and their speed is known to the "Indi? ans," the girls get decidedly the worst ^ of it, for the boys scour the oity and get runners they know can win, The game of "Indian" is a noble amusement.--^. Joseph (Mo.) Herald.