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f ~sm &!#> MOMENTS. Oh, there are moments in man's mortal years. When for an instant that which long has lain Beyond our reach, is on a sudden found In things of smallest compass, and we hold The unbounded shut in one small minute's space, And worlds within the hollow of our hand; .. A world of music in one word of love, A world of love in one quick wordless look. A +V?/-vnrrV?f Ana ti*an?lliran? phrase, A world of memory in one mournful chord, A world of sorrow in one little song. Buch momenta are man's holiest; the divine And first-sown seeds of love's eternity. A Grandfather For Sale. if... 1 * "It's all very well for you, Cabot, to quote that trite remark about rank being only the guinea's stamp. You know as well as I do that the social guinea?here in Boston,of all places?must be stamped before it will go into circulation. Society strongiy resembles retail trade in this one particular. Let me offer a lump of the purest gold to any small dea'er as payment for the goods I have bought of him, and he would at once say he'd rather have the dirtiest bank-note in town than my unstamped metal; wouldn't he?" "Well, I suppose he would. If we were in a more primitive state of existence the yellow metal, as it came from mother earth, would satisfy our greed. Now it has to be vouched for as gold before it can take its proper position among the other circulating mediums." "Exactly so! And as we are not in a primitive state, but a very 'highly cultured' one, I, for example, need to have - -i. 1?t T All U M-ULUJJ UU1UIC 1 IttU |jaoo LUUOb^l the wealth my Midas of a father left to me will not take me more than just so far; yet I dress according to the laws of to-day, I don't eat with my knife,I know how to raise my hat to a lady; in short, I flatter myself that I make a fairly good appearance. But I have no grandfather worth speaking of!" And though there was mock pathos in his tone, Slaxwell Jennings meant more of what he said than he would have been willing his companion should suspect. Edgar Cabot glanced at him a little contemptuously; then he allowed his eyes to wander enviously around the luxurious appointments of Maxwell's rooms. Everything bespoke an abundance of both money and taste on the part of the one who resided there. A casual observer would never have supposed that a man who could appreciate the engravings and books which crowded ; the walls and tables was a mushroom of an hour, the son of a man who had amassed a large fortune by the manufacture of rum and judicious speculations in tocks and mines. The moment that Tom Jennings's business and all other possessions fell into his son's hands, that young man soia tne ODnoxious aisuuenes una went abroad for three years to finish the studies his father had sent hira there to begin. Old Tom Jennings had the sense to know that he could never aspire to any higher position in life than the one he was born Into; but he was determined to "make Max a gentleman," and so far as cultivation and study could do it, he succeeded. "By Jupiter, Jennin<rs, if I had a tithe of your money I wouldn't care a picayune if I hadn't a grandfather!" sighed j Cabot, whose bank account was as short as his pedigree was long. "And I, Cabot, would give a hundred thousand dollars this minute if I had one of your dignified ancestors," Jennings answered, earnestly. "Yes, I'd give it gladly if I in any way could claim a great-uncle or grandfather of note!" "A fellow has a perfect right to sell what is indubitably his own, hasn't he?" asked Cabot, thoughtfully. 1 ' . "Of course he has." ".I, as everyone knows, am the last of my line of the Cabots. I am badly in want of money; you think yonrself?or, to be more exact, Dr. and Mrs. Randall think you?badly in want of ancestors. What will you give me for, say old Colonel Cabot? The one, you know, who was killed in King Philip's war." "What an absurd iaea!" exclaimed Jennincrs. with a lauerh. " Not at all absurd. The old codger is now my great uncle; if I sell him to you, why, of course, he'll be your's. Or, if you don't like him, there's my grandfather, Judge Cabot?how will he fill your bill? Now, Jennings, don't look so amused. I assure you I am in dead earnest. I am so hard up I'd sell my soul? much more such a trifle as a grandfather ?for a hundred thousand dollars." Jennings knew that Cabot spoke the truth about his financial condition, and, being a good-natured fellow, who was grateful to Cabot for several introductions which he valued very highly, esEnally the one to the aforementioned ndails, determined to help Cabot out j of his pecuniory quagmire by humoring him in his ridiculous proposition. " I declare, Cabot, if the thing were feasible I'd accept your offer with immense gratitude. But suppose I should tell anyone that Judge Cabot belonged to me, who would believe me?" "If you were to buy him of me you'd give me a receipt for him. I suppose? Just as I would give you a receipt for the money you paid me for him. "Certainly I should," answered Jennings, laugliing at the idea of giving a rpppint for an ancestor. "Then you could truthfully say that | you had documentary evidence that Judge Cabot was an ancestor of your own, and that would settle it, as I would be careful to say so, too, for people rarely Insist upon one's proving that So-and-so is his 'kin'; and if anybody was still dubious you could be justly indignant because your word was doubted." "I think if I buy one of them I would like to have the other to keep him company; he might feel lonesome so entirely out of his element. "What will you take for the two?" asked Jennings, seriously. Cabot looked fixedly at him for an instant; then, seeing that he was in earnest, answered: "Oh, I'll not bargain with you in this trade. I'll be grateful if you will give me a hundred thousand for the two of 'em ?the old Colonel and the Judge." "Are you sure that will satisfy you? Suppose I say a hundred and twenty-five for the two?" "That will suit me still better, of ciinrse," said Cabot aloud. To himself he added: "The fellow is a biggermuff than I thought. However, he is a good fellow, and I will help him swear that they are his kinsmen, just to see how many gullible fools there are in the world." "How will you have the money? In bonds or real estate?" asked Jennings, "or a happy combination of both?" "If you are really in earnest, I would prefer a little of both." "Meet me at the Suffolk Bank to-morrow, at ten, and I will turn the 'tin' over to you. It is an hour that will suit you, I suppose, as you are a man of leisure?" The hour and the whole tenor of the proposition suited Cabot to a nicety; so *S r ^ ' ' r - " - T: < X the next day the transfer was made, Jeni nings receiving, in lieu of a given sura of j money, a receipt for "all right and title to the possession of the late Colonel Henry Cabot and the late Judge Frederic Cabot, formerly the possession of Edgar Cabot, and to all honors, rank, glory, etc., which may accrue from the ownership of the same." j A few days later Cabot proposed the name of Maxwell as a member of the very exclusive West End club to which be belonged. At this proposition there was some demur, and Cabot quietly said to I r\r\a fhn nhipf>tnr<5 ! "I know what you fellows are thinking of. You fancy that Max has nothing but his money to back him for admittance here, but you arc mistaken. I happen to know?know, mind you?that he can claim lawful ownership in his excellency, the late Judge Cabot. He has papers in his possession which prove it." "Are you sure?" was the amazed inquiry. "I am. I have seen the documents to which I refer." "It must have been on his mother's side if there was such relationship." "Did you never hear of my aunt, Letitia,who disappeared so mysteriously?" "I thought she committed suicide." "Some of us Cabots are such lunatics that we think suicide preferable to a mesalliance," replied Cabot, significantly. So the story went around that Max Jennings had just discovered that he was a decendant of the old Cabot family, and Viic Tinm(> was nrnnosed for election there was not a single black ball against him. He was accordingly notified that he was duly elected a member of the Miles Standish Club. As soon as Jennings received this notification he hastened to the Reception Committee of said club, and explained the whole matter to them. Whereat, pleased with his frankness, and highly amused at the ablurdity of the transaction, the club, at its next meeting, unanimously elected him a member "on his own merits, and not those of his supposititious ancestors;" and also, equally unanimously, dropped from its roll the name of Edgar Cabot, "A man who could sell his grandfather not being worthy of the noble name of a Miles Standish Brother," was the verdict. Dr. Randall, in common with most of the sons of the first settlers, was a member of this same club, so he naturally told his wife about the transaction between Cabot and Jennings. She answered : "I am sure it evinces a very proper feeling on Mr. Jennings' part to want a grandfather; but surely he must have known that such a sale was impossible. What better off is he for the nominal ownership of Judge Cabot? Does it give him any of the Cabot virtues?" "Has the actual ownership of such a grandfather given Edgar Cabot any of those virtues? Do you think the Judge has much to be proud of in such an'heir?" asked her husband. "You know, my dear, I never had any love for Edgar Cabot, and I have still less for him now. Do you suppose that Mr. Jennings had any idea that this purchase would enhance his value in our eves? He has certainly been verv atten' ' ?? - -- -a T i f? J I tivc to unve lately, ana i nave ivucu that she liked him too well." "That will never do!" exclaimed the doctor, emphatically. "I cannot have one of my girls marry the son of that old Tom Jennings, a most disreputable old creature who possessed but one virtue, that of generosity, so far as I can hear. No, no; that must not be! I have nothing against Max Jennings himself, but 'blood will tell,' you know." "As it has done in the case of Edgar Cabot," said Mrs. Randall, dryly. She liked Max, and she more thau suspected that Olive returned the love which Max so evidently felt for her, and she did wish that there could be some way devised by which he could be transformed into a suitable husband for her. And then his wealth, too! Poor Ulive una not all the pretty things which girls of her age ought to have, the mother felt. "There are exceptions to all rules, "said the doctor, concisely, "and Edgar Cabot is the exception to this one." "May not Max Jennings be also an exception?" suggested Mrs. Randall, but her husband made no reply, only became suddenly very much interested in the evening paper. A little later, in all about two months after the purchase of his ancestor, Jennings called on Dr. Randall's family one evening, and Olive's younger sister, an irrepressible girl of thirteen, named Pauline, said to him, somewhat abruptly: "Oh, Mr. Jennings, is it true that you have bought Mr. Cabot's grandfather?" "It is true that Judge Cabot now belongs to me?that he is my grandfather," was Max's answer. "Since Pauline has broached the subject, Mr. Jennings," said Mrs. Randall, "I must own that I am a little curious to know what gave rise to this remarkable story which is going around about you and Edgar Cabot." "Oh, it is very simple. Cabot was hard up, aud I traded off a few dollars for an ancestor or two," replied Max, lightly. "Do you really mean to claim those dead Cabots for your own?" asked Dr. Randall, a little testily. "I do. Why not?" was Max's query. "Is not what you pay for your own?" Dr. Randall could neither say yes nor no. While he was hesitating for a suitable answer which should cover the whole ground and yet not hurt Max's feelings, Max continued: "You know, sir, that you value descent above money. Let us suppose a case; If a man had a daughter, and two men were to present themselves as suitors, the one with a good name but a poor purse, the other in exactly the reverse condition, to which would you advise her to give an aiurmuuve uusncn Dr. Randall appreciated tlie full meaning of this question, which was even harder than the previous one to be answered. lie could not collect his thoughts as quickly as his older daughter did, however. Before her father could frame a reply, Olive said, determinedly: "I think it would be well to let the girl have some voice in such a matter. I think that the characters of the two men ought to be taken into consideration. I don't believe any girl would want a man who could sell his grandfather. She'd be more apt to see worthy qualities in the one who didn't cousider money the only thing worth having." There was no mistaking the significance of Olive's tones, or of her flushed lV.ec. Dr. Randall loved his children, so, saying to himself: "Max is at heart a gentleman, in spite of his extraction; perhaps there was good blood on his mother's side." he pretended to make a jest of the whole matter, and answered: "Ah, Max, you see what a minority I am in I My wife always agrees with Olive, and even Pa'uline echoes her, so I dare not dispute a word she says." Max looked pleased, and Mrs. Randall positively beamed on her husband. But fancy the feelings of all when Max said: "The most siugular part of the whole affair is this: One of my?of old Tom * : Jennings's friends heard of this bargain between Cabot and me, and put me in the way of proving that Tom Jennings adopted me in my earliest infancy out of an orphan asylum, where I dad been placed by mother just before her death. She was in consumption, and as her last few hours drew near she made a confidant of Tom Jennings's wife, and told her that she had been deceived by a false marriage between herself and the father of this Edgar Cabot. As the years passed, and Tom found that the Cabots were not, as a rule, dissolute men, he thought ho ? ^ 4-V? A PA nolln/l folofl mQT. WUUIU lUYUOllgttlC tuu OU-vailbu KIIOI/ iuut riage. He did so, and found that it was a genuine one; that my father, Edgar Cabot, Sr., had had no intention of deceiving my mother, but having died suddenly before my birth, had kept the marriage secret only for fear of his father's wrath, for my mother was a plain farmer's daughter, poor but honest, as the phrase is. Old Tom had become fond of me, and knowing that the Cabots had nothing to bequeath mc except the name, he legally adopted me as his son. So, you see, I purchased my ancestors of my older half-brother, Edgar Cabot. I came here to-night, Dr. Randall, to tell you this story: To-morrow?" "Max, was your mother's name Rachel?" Dr. Randall asked, abruptly. "Yes; Rachel Dennison, of Weston Mills." "I was present at your birth, boy, and your mother told me this story. I investigated it for her sake, and found it true, your father having been a widower before he met your mother. When I next saw her she was dead and the baby had vanished, so the whole thing went out of my mind until this moment." Here the doctor had to pause to rub his spectacles, and Pauline took advantage of the brief silence to say: "Now that you've got a grandfather of your own, I suppose you and Olive will be getting married, and then you'll be lfo? ti-511 tt/in Tint!" }Trmh Ill J UIULUCl i'lOAj 1UU jwu mvv. M ces E. Wadleigh, in the Current. Bird Surgery. Dr. Walter F. Morgan, of Leavenworth, Kansas, sends to the Medical Record this curious account of what may be called avarian surgery, related to him by the late Joseph O'Brien, of Cleveland, Ohio: "On going into his barn Mr. O'Brien discovered a swallow's nest, and being a natural observer and lover of animals, he climbed to the nest, and found in it two young swallows, one being smaller and less vigorous than the other, and having a slighter covering of feathers. " Upon taking the young bird in his hand he was astonished to find one of its legs very thoroughly bandaged with horse-hairs. Having carefully removed the hairs one by one he was still more astonished to find that the nestling's leg was broken. Mr. O'Brien carefully replaced the bird in its nest and resolved to await further developments. Upon visiting the 'patient' the next day, the leg was again bandaged as before. The bird surgeon was not again interfered with, and the case being kept under observation, in about two weeks it was found that the hairs were being cautiously removed, only a few each day; and finally, when all were taken off, the callus was distinctly felt, and the union of the bone evidently perfect, as the bird was able to fly off with its mates. Such instances may seem incredible to those not yet fully prepared to accept the axiom of the scientists, viz: 'that the intelligence of animals differs from that of man only in degree, and not in kind.'" Something New in Clocks. A self-winding clock is one of the novelties in this market. One would naturallv think that a self-winding clock would come pretty near to a solution of the Sroblem of perpetual motion, but it oesn't. The self-winding clock may be locked up and left untouched for more than a year, and it will run right along without appreciable variation, and, 'tis said, keep better time than a common clock that is often ''regulated." In the self-winder the winding is performed every hour by an electric battery concealed within the case, and it is reasonably claimed that this frequent action averts overwinding and running down, evils which are largely responsible for the variations of ordinary timepieces. Selfwinding clocks cost all the way from $27.50 to $750. The inventor of this clock says he can connect by a wire all the clocks in the stations on a railway between New York and Chicago, or between any other cities, so that a simple touch on an electrical instrument in one city will set all of the clocks to the same time, without a second's difference being left between any two of them. If this fertile inventor will now devise some means of keeping the watches carried by engineers aud conductors of freight trains always within two or three seconds of true time, he will confer a still further blessing upon his railway-collision abhorring fellow men. Simple, but Dishonest. One of the simplest things ever heard of, and which was still as neat as it was simple, was the breach of trust of a Philadelphia messenger. He received a package of $100,000 and hid it safely away. He then went back to the bank which had employed him and told the officers that he was tired of being poor, and that he had determined to use the money they had given him to carry to a certain other bank. At first it was thought he was drunk, then crazy, then joking. But he simply advised the officers to have him arrested, as he intended to keep and use the money in question. The principal he promised eventually to return. The officers tried to persuade him, but without avail. He was finally arrested, but his only crime was breach of trust. His declared intention of eventually returning the money made it almost impossible to bring his crime under the head of any indictable offence. He was finally tried for breach of trust and came off with two years in the penitentiary. This occurred about fifteen years ago. The perpetrator still lives in Philadelphia and is in comfortable circumstances, and talks freely about his little escapade. He still says he intends to return thG money to the bank. He had his lawyer draw up a will in which he bequeathed the sum of $100,000 to the bank, being the sum borrowed on such date, less $2,400, being the amount charged for two years of enforced idleness at $100 a month.?Memphis Avalanche. Forgot the Name of His Bride. A man who applied to County Clerk iuartin ior a marriage license me omci day was so nervous that he forgot the name of the woman whom he was about to marry, and had to go to her house three times before he could remember her name long enough to tell it to the Clerk. Each time he went to the house she had to repeat her middle name over to him, and as soon as he reached the Clerk's office he conld not remember it, until, at the end of the third trip, by a strong effort, he managed to think of it. Lovers never care for the middle names of their sweethearts.?Santa Cruz (Col.) Sentinel. ' ; ' '''" 'i , " ^ - ' * ' . . - ' f~r I" THE CATACOMBS,, A VISIT TO THE VAST CEMETERIES BENEATH PARIS. j The Bones of Millions of Human. Be? ings Lying Exposed in This Veritable City of the. Dead. There is one among the many interesting sights of Paris which the tourist rarely sees, and yet it is the most curious of : them all. A very wide area of the south | side of the city is undermined, as j most people know, by the excavations car. ried on there for more thau 200 yoars. From these quarries were obtainei the peculiar white stone of which so many I Parisian houses are built, and during the -?:-~i *: a k. l.^/l I I^UIIUU IUUI? LHUJ UUULUiUUU IU UU ?y V . JTV.VVA i the output is estimated to have reached a | total of eleven million of cubic metres. | Operations had at last to be closed i/hen it became evident, from many warnings, that the surface of the undermined districts, extended to more than three millions of 6quare yards?fully a tenth o:f the total superficies of the modern city? threatened to give way, and at the same time the whole of the excavatcd scction was placed under scientific superviiion. The Parisians, in the early days of their city, buried their dead, in acoordance with the custom of the Romans, beyond the walls, and by the sides of the high roads. Later on interments took {>lacc in churchcs, or in ground adjoinng; but the spreading city soon inc losed these within its limits, so that when a decree forbidding burial within cities or towns, was issued in 1770, Paris ws.'i perhaps belter supplied with intradural cemeteries than any city in the world. The dead were not left long after this in possession of their abodes, for the land they occupied was needed to support homes for the living, and grew in value every year. When it was deemed advisable for the general welfare to remove these larj;c and numerous cemeteries from the ccntre of thickly populated districts the quarries were proposed as a fitting place for the disposal of the exhumed remains. The most suitable and least moist part of these gigantic caverns having been sclectc d and Availed off, the bones of countlcss dead, relics of heaven only knows how many generations, were removed from the graves in which they had long rested calmly and were transported?always at night, the way lighted by torch's?to their new abode. Proccsaions of priests in full cancnicals escorted them, and the funeral scrvice was chanted as the remains were lowered through a shaft from hearses that had been specially constructed for the occaoion. It was calculated that the relics of at least three millions of human beings were thus transferred. The decree of the Senate converting the quarries into a vast ossuary was issued in 1784, but two years elapsed before the removals were commenced. No effort was made to dispose the relics in any regular order. The contents of the different graveyards were kept apart and were marked accordingly, but beyond this all the bones were huddled together in indistinguishable confusion. It was not until 1810, when the g uardianship of the excavations of Sou thern Paris was intrusted to M. de Thury, that s.ny attempt was made at classifying, if such an expression may be used, the heterogeneous masses of human remains thus heaped together. Huge pillari were built for the purpose of support, anl several winding stairs leading to the surface above were hewn out of the solid stone; the walls were repaired and spacious passages opened communicating with the different galleries of the quarries. The bones were carefully separated according to the ! various cemeteries, and then the singular idea seems to have occurred to M. de Thury of forming here below a city of the dead, for he constructed a labyrinth of streets in these excavations which corre-, spond exactly in length and direction with the streets of the living overhead. Once or twice a month the city engineers inspect the quarries, examining more particularly the condition of the enormous stone pillars. On such occasions a limited number of persons are allowed to visit the catacombs in the wake of those officials, and permission is obtained by writing to the Prefet de la Seine, at the Hotel de Ville, where the letter often lies for six months before a ticket is sent in reply to it, but when it does arrive it is available for a party of five. There are several entrances or shafts to - t.x 11?nnu, mese suuicrraneuu gtuicuva. xm. uuivl-i of admission warns you to come provided with candles, and on your arrival at the gate you find several itinerant chandlcrs, who are driving a roaring trade in the cheap composites, which are the reverse of dropless, as you discover to your cost later on. The visitors desccnd in batches of ten or twelve, and must go one by one, slowly enough. You light your candle and descend ninety winding steps of solid stone &nd find yourself on the threshold of this veritable city of the dead. Arrived on - level ground, you walk a little way through narrow passages cut in soft, white stone, the arched roofs of which are little higher t'.ian yourself, and on which is marked the name of the street above, with which its direction corresponds. Other passages, , across which chains are drawn, intersect or branch off from these, and stretch away into the depths of utter darkness? darkness visible. A few steps further and you arc at the gate of the ossuary It is perfectly plain, but massive, and painted black. Strange and impressive in the extreme is the gallery to which it leads. It is neither broad nor lofty. Probably twenty persons could walk abreaut in it and the ceiling is not higher than that of an ordinay room. It is in complete darkness, except that at the further end, which is curved, thus adding to its apparent extent. the flickering lights carried by the batch of visitors who preceded you serve ! to reveal n faint but sufficiently distinct outline of its peculiar features. The candles of your own party disclose clcarly enough the objects closer to you. j The walls are formed of bones, human ' bones, piled together, apparently witfi the ' greatest regard to ghastly effect, but in j the most perfect order and regularity. ! The leg and arm bones, with the joints outward, form the cbicf comporents of I. this curious fence, and three rows of skulls packed closely together, each row about a foot and a half apart, add almost an ornamental finish to it. These walls j are generally about six feet high, though in some places lower, and between them j and the stone sides of the galleries are I piled up in a confused heap all the j smaller bones of the human frame. The lugubrious cffect instantaneously pro, duced by this sombre chamber, lit in so ' funereal a manner by a few dozen can- j dies, waving like tiny torches in the hands of their bearers, is one not to be forgotten, and the thoughts that must rush unbidden across the most trivial mind in such a spot cannot be other than | suggestive of the transient nature of those ?ssenccs which constitut^^ie chief i harms of the world overh|^^^^L ' '" ?' - ' ' ; Devices of a religious character, formed with skulls or with arm and leg bones, ornament in singular fashion the sides of the gallery, but no perfect skeleton is to be seen. On a bench are shown a few broken bones which had reknit. Many recesses are shaped into miniature chapels, with altars and crosses, all of skulls or bones. Small white marble slabs with inscriptions from holy writ or profane authors, mostly in French, though several of the latter are in Latin, relieve at frequent intervals, the brown monotony of the walls. Marble crosses also indicate the exact spot where the contents of each of the cemeteries begin and end and are marked with the dates at which interments had commenced and finished in them, while in a few instances an unpretending tablet is inscribed to the memory of the victims of some popular emeute. Rather more than half an hour is spent in passing quickly through this labyrinth. Its passes are so winding and complicated that it would be impossible to form a just idea of the extent of ground which it occupies; but on again emerging into sunlight we found ourselves about half a mile from the old octroi house, from the yard of which we had descended. The walks throughout were all dry and well graveled, and there was little, if any, disagreeable odor.?New York Herald. Left-Hnndcdness. tn * i vrrM !J ? j. _ t ^ jur. JL?amei vviison, piesiucut ui uie Royal Society of Canada, has lately contributed a paper to the proceedings of that society on the subject of left-handedness. He reviews the various causes to which the general preference of the right hand has been ascribed, and also those to which the occasional cases of left-handedness are attributed, and finds them mostly unsatisfactory. He shows clearly that the preferential use of the right hand is not to be ascribed entirely to early training. On the contrary, in many instances, where parents have tied up the left hand of a child to overcome the persistent preference for its use, the attempt has proved futile. He concludes that the general practice is probably due to the superior development of the left lobe of the brain, which, as is well-known, is connected with the right side of the body. This view, as he shows, was originally suggested by the eminent anatomist, Professor Gratiolet. The author adopts and maintains it with much force, and adds the correlative view that "left-handedncss is due to an exceptional development of the right hemisphere of the brain." A careful review of the evidence gives strong reason for believing that what is now the cause of the preference for the light hand was originally an effect. Neither the apes nor any others of the lower animals show a similar inclination for the special use of the right limbs. It is a purely human attribute, and probably arose gradually from . the use, by the earliest races of men, of the right arm in fighting, while the left arm was reserved to cover the left side of the body, where wounds, as their experience showed, were most dangerous. Those who neglected this precaution would be most likely to be killed; and hence, in the lapse of time, the natural survival would make the human rar>a in fr/inprnl 41 riorllt-hilndf>d." LUUU iUW AU ^v4.v*v? C>~~~ ? ??j with occasional reversions, of course, by "Atavism," to be left-handed, or, more properly, the ambi-dextrous condition. The more frequent and energetic use of the right limbs would, of course, react upon the brain, and bring about the excessive development of the left lobe, such as now generally obtains. The conclusions from this course of reasoning are very important. Through the effect of the irregular and abnormal development which has descended to us from our bellicose ancestors, one lobe of our brains and one side of our bodies are left in a ncglccted and weakened condition. The evidence which Dr. Wilson produces of the injury resulting from this cause is very striking. In the majority of cases the defect, though it cannot be wholly overcome, may be in great part cured by early training, which will strengthen at once both the body and the mind. ""Whenever," he writes, "the early and persistent cultivation of the full use of both hands has been accomplished, the result is greater efficiency, without any corresponding awkwardness or defect."?Science. k PnroHico far Trnmns. "v* ? ??r? The Karg gas-well was discovered in Findlay, Ohio, about fifty miles south of Toledo, on January 20, 1886. The gas was conducted forty-eight feet above tho ground, through a six-inch iron pipe, and when lighted the flame fosc from twenty to thirty feet above the pipe. It is diflicult to exaggerate the magnificent and impressive effect of this burning well at night. The noise of the escaping gas is like the rour of Niagara. The whole town is brightly illumniated by the light of the flame. When I made my visit to the well, one evening in February, 1886, snow covered the ground to the depth of three or four inches; but for a distance of two hundred yards in every direction the heat of the flame had melted the snow from the ground, and the grass and weeds had grown two or three inches in height. The crickets also seemed to have mistaken tho season of the year, for they were cnliveufV>? nio-Vif wit.1i thrir rhf-flrflll SOn??. The neighborhood of the well was also a paradise for tramps. I noticed one who lay soundly sleeping with his head in a barrel, and the rest of his body projecting outward to receive the genial warmth from the flame high up in the air above. Cold as it was all around, he slept in perfect comfort upon the turf and in the open air. There was no danger of his sufferwithin that charmed circle.?St. Nicholas. Sccne in the Persian Palace. The Zil-es-Sultan is the favorite son of the Shah of Persia. lie is thirty-five, short, and of athletic build,is a fine shot, and is a leader of Persian fashions. The London St. James's Gazette thus describes a domestic scene: "The room is purposely darkened. There sits the Prince, supported by cushions, 011 a mattress, lie is evidently out of sorts; his liakimbashi is feeling his pulse. The Governor of Yczd, formerly his favorite personal attendant, is kneading one knee, the Governor of Bonat is gently rubbing the other. Two attendants arc softly pommeling the princely feet, while the chief bar bcr, an important personage, is careluliy and scientifically shampooing the back of h-:s ncck. Mirza Reza, the Princc's confidential valet, a man who has been Governor of Fussa under his Royal Highness, is reading poetry. Evidently the Prince is in pain. 'Rub, rub, he cries. 'Ah!' with a sigh of relief,'that is good?that is very good 1' The chief barber, whose clever shampooing has earned this praise, smiles with pleasure. 'Mirza Rcza,Mirza Reza Khan!' This is shouted, and the confidental valet stops his monotonous poetry. 'Let our chief barber have our fur-lined cloak?the red one.' The delighted barber, who is to receive a gift worth ?30, stops to thank the Prince. 'Rub, rascal, rub,' is the rely." 4 ** * "' 'r ' > SONG OF THE COUNTRY AJiSOil' I sing the song of the country lass; In the dew of the morning I saw her pM The way of the woodland road along, And the sighing voice of a "passing breea* Among the boughs of the bending treat Brought to my ears her happy song: "I would not leave this pathway sweet For the finest marble paved street That winds its way 'mid the city's din, Or leave the forest's graceful shade For the fairest park man's hands have mad* That lies the busy mart within. "Though briars catch my homespun gown And the woodland tendrils snare the ground, While a robin carols in notes so clear, Hethinks 'twere only their wish to say, Each in their gentle, loving way, IT* A 1J 9 -A. L^lt FACTS FOB THE CURIOUS. A calf with eight legs and two head* is in possession of a farmer at Livermore, Cal. The largest sweet potato on record was irrn-am in "fiMnrifla lncf. SPHSfin Tt IS twftntv b* v"" * "v* *? ? *wv ? ?v eight inches long. Coaches were introduced into England during the reign of Elizabeth, and were it first only used by ladies. France secured on the conclusion of the Thirty Years "War, in 1648 the provinces of Alsacc and Lorraine, whicn she lost in 1870. Ten languages?English, German, Norwegian, Swedish, French, Bohemian, Finn, Polish, Italian and Chinese?are ipoken in Minnesota. Denver is the highest of the State capitals, being 5,175 feet above the sea level. Annapolis, Md., is the lowest, being only four feet.above the sea level. The words of the song '<-John Brown's Body Lies a Mouldering in the Grave," were written by Frank E. Jerome. Mr. Jerome is now one of the editors of the Russell (Kansas) Record. He was not thirty when the song appeared. A curious habit of deer is that of eating the bones of their own kind. If a dead dear is left on a hill, when birds and insccts have eaten its flesh, its bones will often be consumed by its own relations. They will also eat horns that have been shed. When Alexander the Great took possession of Babylon, in 331B. C., he found a series of astronomical observations tak en by the Chaldoeans for an unbroken period of 1903 years, which places the beginning of the observations as early as 2234 B. C. Julius Caesar was upward of forty years of age before he became prominent in public affairs, and, as he was assassinated at the age of fifty-six, he advanced in sixteen years from the position of a Roman citizen to be conqueror of the then known world and the ruler of the Roman empire. It has been demonstrated that platinum wire may be drawn so fine as to be invisible to the naked eye, although its presence upon a perfectly white card can be detected by the touch, and can be seen by the aid of a small magnifying glass when the card is held is such a position that the wire casts a shadow. The Profile is a liuge and very interestesting rock-conformation upon the side of Profile Mountain in the Franconia rancre (White Mountains), New Hamp shire. From a certain point of view at a distance it bears wonderful resemblance to the outline of a human face. This remarkably complete and distinct profile is nearly 1,500 feet above the level of the little lake below it, and it is from sixty to eighty feet in length. It is also popularly know as the Old Man of the Mountain. In his address at the dedication of the new Brooks library building at Brattleboro, Vt., Hon. Mellen Chamberlain of the Boston Public Library said that "before 1700 there was not in Massachusetts, so far as known, a copy of Shakespeare's or of Milton's poems; and as late as 1728, whatever may have been in private hands, Harvard College library laeked Addison, Atterbury, Bolin^broke, Dryden, Guy. Locke, Pope, Prior, Steele, Swift ana Young." Against such a back-ground one may effectively paint the later progress of literary life in New England. A Check for Over $14,000,000. 1J HJ Ulgyesu tucua C1CL uiuuu iu >.uv United States was that drawn by John D. Taylor, now dead, but then Treasurer of the Pennsylvania Railroad, to Lee, Higginson & Co., of Boston, in payment for the Boston stock in the Philadelphia, Wilmington and Baltimore road. About ten millions of it was owned in Boston. Nathaniel Taylor was the largest stockholder, and he had agreed to deliver to Jay Qould enough to give him a controlling interest and enable him to bring the road into' harmony with the Jersey Central, and then dispose of the two as thought best. But Mr. Taylor was in his old age, and he was unable to fulfill the contract. Enough got out to put the Pennsylvania people on their guard, and their representatives met the Boston bankers in this city, and never adjourned until the papers were drawn up by which they agreed to deliver a majority of the stock in the road at 140 on the dollar, which was about 10 per cent, more than they had ever been able to sell it at, all the individual stockholders being allowed I nnmn on/1 cnl 1 fhoir strtolc at that fijr 11/ UVUib UUV4 0V** t*4W4? WVVWMi ww - 0 ure. They brought it to the Boston bankers, and on the 1st day of July the Boston party received Mr. Taylor's check on the National Bank of Commerce of this city for $14,256,440. This is believed to be. the largest check ever drawn in this country.?Mail and Express. Steel Pen and Quill. The steel pen is an exceedingly modern invention. Any person past middle age 1 can remember when its use became gen- I eral in America. Before that time the I quill pen was universal, and to make or j sharpen it for his pupils was one of the I chief tasks of the schoolmaster. Many persons still employ this archaic instrument, driving to madness all who are within hearing of its more harrowing sound. The utter inability of the present generation to listen to the scratching of the quill pen is one of the most startling evidences of the increase of nervous disorders among us. The pretended preference for it is generally an affectation. The name of the person who first used ' J a quill pen nas not Deen prcacrvcu, nuu the loss has not been seriously felt. It was probably some monk or "learned clerk" of the middle ages who found thct it could usefully supplement the stylus with which he was illuminating a manuscript. The quill might have easily been suggested by the bodkin made of the bone of a bird or other animal transmitted from the Romans to the mediaeval monks, or by the sharpened iced, also used by the Romans and still in use among the Arabs. The Chinese and Japanese use a sort of brush in writing, and when well instructed write iapidly and with artistic skill.?San Fsancisco Chronicle. Uncle Esek's Wisdom, We stand in our own sunshina oftener than others do. It is the little things that aro the most wonderful and difficult; it is possible for human enterprise to make a mountain, but impossible for it to mak3 an oyster. There is nothing so necessary as necessity; without it, mankind would have ceased to exist ages ago. The heart gets weary, bat never gets old. If a man is right, he can't be too radical; if wrong, he can't bj too conservative. The silent man may be overlooked now, but he will get a hearing by and by. Method and dispatch govern the world. You can outlive a s andcr in half the time you can outarcuf 3,?Centum IRL. . " v Iiingqr, \J maiuoii, tuiu icau wurc uctci 'Tve wondered sometimes if its hearties frown Harries the step of the city's throng. From the break of dawn to the set of ?m No living welcome awaits the eye, . _ J; Each looks in coldness and harries by, Till the busy strife of the day is done. "The city maid, clad in silk and sheen. Sees not what I s@3 in its shimmering gleam; > A woof and a warp of misery. , Whose every thread is an atom life, That's dyed in hatred, in wrong and strife, And spun in the looms of poverty. "My homely garb bears no touch of HI,, Though heavy tin thread, it carries stQl A AVoixyi Jinr TlftW lnAV-* Touches of lightness from sonny air, ~' Touches of brightness from skies so fair, With love and contentment running through. "Her lover?they oftsn tell me so? Waiteth her bidding with courtly bow And flattering speech in the festive halL Tet weighs the charm of her speech sad ^ grace 'Gainst her rival's beauty of form and faoa, And the glitter of gold outshines them all. ' 'My own dear John, whose song so gay Floats up from the meadows far away, Plies a busy sickle in bending wheat. He has no studied words to tell, And yet I doubt not he loves me well, As he hastens my woodland way to mtti "The city's churches are high and grand Syfretted arches and columns spanned, Wherein are gathered both pomp and prid Whose choir and organ unite to raise A song of heaven for the world to praim, And a golden imago is deified. "The chapel yonder is old and drear, For a moss and memory of many a year Around its portals in beauty cling, But over it all is the Sabbath day Nature is keeping for aye and aye, And God has hallowed the worahippinf ? -Edith JLBm?* " pith am point, " i A gentleman of polish?A bootblac/ , The great American dessert? Si/tings. The violinist is always up to hiacl?: in business. A court decision: "Yes, 'Dolphy, ? ' be your wife."?Cedar Rapid* Gomp. A parting injunction?"Right do%:\ the middle, barber."?Detroit Free iVwSLA blind man in Iowa can tell the colrr? oFa red-hot stove simply by touching 4te? ?Puck's Annual. As man and wife arc one, the huabSD^ -h when seated with his wife, must be lx> side himself.?Philadelphia Herald. . John and Ida married lived In Idaho forlorn, V 'Cause John Jung round the tavern And let Idaho the corn. On the Rolling Deep. First Panel ,?r ?"Well, old boy, what's up thia af ernoon?" Second Passenger?"All but the soup.?London 8erup?. A Georgia woman looked thfiugh y J twenty-six different novels to find a aame for her girl baby, fad-finally sett? ed on Marier.?Burlington Free Prest. He (at a Bostca musicale)?"What a glorious interpretation ?" She (a Chicago "T?l Afr WftM.l. ICall jruuug TIWUJau;? , , , that good fiddlirg."?Harper'* Bazar. There is a widow who keeps a Swedish boarding house on one of the streets near the wharves. Her boarders are referred to as the wiiow's "Swedes."?Botton Courier. < / * "* Mr. Holbrook has written i book telling "How tj strengthen the memory." > He omits tha most popular method, by tying a strirg about the forefinger.?Nm? York Times. "Chestnuts!" yelled several persons in the gallery at the minstrel ihow. "That'l right, gentlemen," respon ded Bones. "II you don't get what you want, ask for it."?Pittsburg Dispatch. < "Don't be a fool," ;jhe said, with a snap, to her husband. ''Why didn't you tell me that when I a'_kcd you to marry me?" he replied; and silence fell upon that house.? Wnshingtm Critic. , 't >' A Chicago detective wrote to a client: "I have found time to drop you a line." The client replied that he was glad he had found something, as he was getting a little discouraged. ?Puck's Annual. 4 'Pa, have you the hydrophobia?" "No, Bertie; what makes you ask that question?" "Well, I heard ma say to-day I that von (rot awfully bitten when you " * ?r o - # I thought she had a fortune in her own name."?Harper1 a Bazar. i An authority says that two apple* placed in the cake box will keep the cake moist a long time. We wish to add that if you haven't any apples, place two boys in, and the cake will not spoil. It will only change from fruit cake and angel cake to stomach-ake.?Dansville Breese. Two human skeletons liave been found ~ imbedded in solid rock in Arizona. Both were in a sitting posture and supposed to have been females. It is thought they belonged to some prehistoric race and sat down by the bed of a lake to talk over the new fashions and did not notice the .+ llight of time.?Omaha World. CUPID EUCHRKD. I waited his coming: a year, And I thought: "When he comes, he'll propose." I practiced his favorits songs, I brought out my prettiest clothes? A love of a gown, made by Worth, Tender blue, with a touch of pale rose; For hours I polished my nails; I read up both poems and prose, But alas! when the fatal day came, Fd a boil on the end of my nose! A song with the title, "There's a Sigh in the Heart," was sent by a young man to his sweetheart, but the "paper fell into the hands of the girl's father, a very unsentimental physician, who exclaimed: "What wretcne'd unscientific rubbish is this? Who ever heard of such a case?" He wrote on the outside: "Mistaken diagnoris; no sigh in the heart possible; sighs relate almost entirely to the lung* and diaphram." A native paper under the control of the Hawaiian Government has taken to publishing a column or so in English. % There are 113 farmers in the Connecticut Legislature.