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A PSALM OF LIFE. Through the wild Babel of our fever'd time the song of Homsr cometh, grave and stern, With tidings from the world's fresh, healthy prime,? Tidings which our worn, wearied age concern. Unchanged, through all the long uiinumber'd years, The voice of Hom?r sings the song divine, Which tells of godlike toils, of heroes' tears, And of the punishment of Priam's line. The battle in the plain is raging yet, The watch fires blaze, the beak'd ships line the shore; For ns the foe in grim array is set Ah I but do wo. fight as they fought of yore? For we, too, like the heroes long ago, Must wage slow wars and sail the bitter sea: Fierce is the conflict, loud the trumpets blow, And the waves roar and rage unceasingly. Still must wo wander o'er the stormy main; Twixt rocks and whirlpools a death passage make; Still must the Sirens sing to us in vain; A. Still from the toils of Circe must we break. ^ Tttra, then, to Homer's Psalm of Life, and see How they endured whose pilgrimage is done; And hear the message they have left for thee? Only by patience is the victory won. ?ilacmillan. The Colonel's Daughter. BT EMMA A. OPPER. Deacon Ilolcomb stamped the suow oil his boots and sat down by the kitchen fire, looking around at the family with unusual seriousness. His wife and pretty daughter, Kate, were chopping meat and paring apples for miuce-pics; and his tall son, "'Gene," whs mending a wash-tub. Mrs. Holcomb looked at the deacon sharply, and suspended her choppingknife. "Anything the matter?" she said, anxiously. "Nothing very bad," the deacon responded, looking across the stove at her affectionately. "You won't think so, anyhow. I says to Seth and William, 'I know just what she'll say'?meaning you." 'What on earth are you talking about?" "From the Colonel's lawyer," he announced. "The Colonel was the deacon's halfbrother, an elderly eccentric person, who had died a m:>nth ago in the small Western village where he had lived. "Hasn't turned out to be worth a pile of money, and left it to us, has he?"'said 'Gene, gaily. "Hain't left us no money," said the deacon. "Hadn't none to leave, I reckon. m.i+vkaw ajfanicknr) tko prklnnol txtoa ALU I UlUCi a^lV/KXOllUU. AUV VVi vuvi n worth considerable along one spell. No ?but he's left us something else.' "What!" said Kate, eagerly. "It's from his lawyer,,as I says," the -deacon rejoined, unfolding the letter. "And Seth and William got copies of it. We was all at the postoffice when the mail come, and took 'em out together. It says," he went on, slowly?"and Scih's and William's says the very same thing? that it was the Colonel's last wish that his daughter Malvina should have a home out here, with Seth or William or me. Be said that whoever took her would be doing an act of charity, and would be artain to get rewarded in heaven. And he wanted us all notified in them words." "For the land's sake." said Mrs. Holcomb. "Well," said 'Gene, going on with the washtub calmly, "of course uncle Seth is going to take her? He's the best able to." "I ruther expected myself," said the deacon, hesitatingly, "that Seth would Rtep forward in this here crisis; but he hain't. He said he-didn't hardly see how he could do it. He said Malvina must be somewhere nigh fifty by this time; and being an old maid, she might be cantankerous, and Julia Ann mightn't be able to get along with her. He said William and me would have to settle it between us." "Well, I never!" said Mrs. Holcomb, indignantly?''him, with all his money and that big house!" . "What did Uncle William say?'' said Kate. "Now see here, Pa Holcomb!"? as the dcacon's kind eyes fell before her gaze?"you don't mean to say that he's going to leave it for you to do?you, the poorest of them all?" The deacon moved uneasily. "I don't want to blame William, he said, mildly. "I can sec it's just as he says." "What did he say?" said Kate, her black eyes flashing. "He said he didn't see how he could take her, nohow," the deacon replied. "He's building his new barn, and he don't feel like haviug any more expense just now. And he said he couldn't think Of boarding people without notlncg more substantial than a reward in heaven to look forward to." "He's a brute," said 'Gene, warmly? "he and Uncle Seth, both! Bat you're not going to let them kupose upon you, father? Why, neither of them would feel it; but you?good gracious!" 'Gene looked around the bare little kitchen meaniugly. "I always thought a sight of the Colonel," said the deacon, looking up at the cracked ceiling, "though he wan't nothing but a half-brother; and I can't just bring myself to refuse the shelter of my house, if it ain't much, to any of his kin. There's where it is." "You dear old, silly pa ." cried Kate. And she slammed her apple-pan on the table, rushed around to the deacon's chair and kissed him violently on the top of his bald hea l. "Your pa's right, children," said Mrs. Holcomb, resuming her chopping-knife quietly. "It's our duty, plain as day, to take the poor creetur." "Thm-?"'said the deacon, triumphantly. "I knew where you'd stand. I told Seth and William so." "Well," suid 'Gene, rising from the wash-tub with a good-naturedly despairing gesture, "we are to have our Cousin Malvina, Kate; but we are to give up all hopes of a college course, and we are to be married to Mark Hill in the dress we have on?we shall not be able to scrape up money enough for a new one by uext spring, with Cousin Malvina on our hands." lie pill an arm uuuui h:n simw ? nuim, in mock sympathy, and whirled her laughingly away. The deacon looked across at his wife rather soberly. "I'm afraid it's true enough," he said. "No such thing!" said Mrs. Holcomb, briskly. "And s'posing it was? Mark Bill would marry her quick enough in her old duds, I reckon!" "But 'Gene?" said the deacon, anxiously. "Mebbe Malvina will make a difference about that. And he's set his heart on getting an education." "You didn't have none to speak of!" "Aid M?b. Holcomb, stoutly, looking a iitle troubled, nevertheless. MM "They're good children," said the deacon. "They won't make no trouble about it?I know that. But I should hate to have 'era disappointed." "We'll trust in Providencc," said Mrs. Holcomb, simply. "We know we're doing wliat'a right, taking Malvina; and I don't believe but what it'll be for the best." "You're always just the same?always real good," said the deacon, with feeling, as he picked up his hat and started for the barn. Aud Mrs. Holcomb reflected that she could hardly be better than the deacon. * * * * * * "She couldn't have had a better day for it nohow," said the deacon, delightedly. It was a week later. He stood at the sitting-room window, looking out at the snowy, sunny world and rubbing his work-roughened hands with quiut satisfaction. From the kitchen there came the odors of simmering apple-sauce, of boiling turnips and of hot miuce-pies. From the sofa came the sound of lowloned conversation, proceeding from the corner where Kate and Mark Hill were sittiug, rather close together?Mark, being a prospective member of the family, dropped in to dinner occasionally. Up the road there came the jingle of sleigh-bells. The deacon watched the little, oldfashioned cutter eagerly as it came nearer. For the deacon's resolution had been faithfully carried out. He had written a cordial invitation to poor Malvina, amid the mild sucers of his brothers, Seth and William, to be-sure, and the astonished disapproval of such of his neighbors as were in possession of the facts; but with the laughing consent of his children, and with the warm uidiug and abetting of his wife. There had come a prompt response to his letter?a brief note, stating Miss Mai- j vina Holcomb's acceptance of her uncle's hospitality; and stating, further, that she | would start directly, and would arrive a j few days later. The day had come. The driver of the little cutter, turning up at the [hitching-post with a flourish, was 'Gene; and the small bundle of green j veil and water-proof cloak which he lift- j ed down into .the snow was his Cousin j Malvina. The deacon hurried to the door; Mrs. | Holcomb stopped in the act of mashing j the turnips and rushed out to the porch; and Kate followed hastily, with Mark j Hill close behind her. The bundle had made its way up the ! snowy path. The green veil had become ; disarranged, and there looked out from j under it a sharp little face, with bright, dark eyes, and two rows of faded, corlf screw curls. "We're glad to see you, Malvina!" said the deacon; while Mrs. Holcomb pulled her indoors kindly, and helped to ! undo the voluminous waterproof cloak. | It was a queer little woman that stood warming her small hands at the kitchen stove and looking sharply from one to another, when the last wrap had been removed. She was certainly past fifty?so Kate mentally decided. She also decided that long ear-rings and a juvenile necklace, and tight curls, besprinkled with gray, were hardly becoming to her faded little face; and that her checked silk dress was not in the best of taste. But she felt a warm impulse toward her Cousin Malvina. There was a kindly sparkle in her eyes as she looked around the modest table?Mrs. Holcomb had taken up the dinner with hospitable haste ?at the deacon, carving, with a beaming face; at Kate and Mark, side by side of course, and engaged at the moment in an affectionate altercation; at Mrs. Holcomb dishiug the apple-sauce; and at 'Gene, who had come in, cold and snowy, from the barn. film diil not (innp.it tn hp much of a talker. She answered their inquiries in | chirpy monosyllables, turning her gaze meditatively around the small, bare room, j and through the door to the calico- j covered sofa and the well-worn rag j carpet of the sitting-room. But she wore a look of quiet satisfaction and enjoyment, and by the time the last of the mince-pics had disappeared, j and the dishes been washed briskly by j Kate's nimble hands, and they were all gathered around the sitting-room stove, it had deepened into a positive warmth, which softened her sharp eyes and gave a pink tiuge to her faded cheeks. "I should judge, Uncle Holcomb," said Malvina, turning upon the deacon? "I should judge, now, that you ain't so j well off as you might be?" It was an embarrassing inquiry. Mark Hill looked at his boots and pretended not to have heard it; and Kate and 'Gene exchanged indignant glances. - r? 1_ _x1 U ? sureiy auy oiucr laumk. huuiu uaiv come better from their Cousin Malvina, under the circumstances. "Well, no,"s:iid the deacon, meekly. "And I suppose," Mc'vina continued, calmly?"I suppose Uncle Scth and Uncle William are considerably better oil, now ?aiu't they?" "Well, yes,"saidthe deacon, "they be." I "So the colonel said. I always called him the colonel," said Malvina. And there was a suspicion of mistiness in her eyes as she spoke the name. There was a silence, broken sharply by the violent jingling of Malvina's long ear-rings, as she sat straight up in her chair suddenly. "I shan't wait another minute!" she said, decidedly. "The colonel advised me not to be hasty, to look into things a little first. But I couldn't know you any better if I waited a year, you dear, good man!" His listeners stared at each other in silent alarm; and Kate edged a little nearer to Mark. Was Malvina going out of hor senses? "I've been imposing on you shamefully," Malvina went on, energetically? "shamefully!" The deacon looked at his wife apprehensively; and Mrs. Holcomb turned a shade paler. Something was wrong with Malvina clearly. "It was the colonel's plan," that small person continued, apologetically. "You know he was always notional; and he took this way of doing it." "Of dmnnr wlmt?'' c-iifl Hi ft dfi.lCOn. finding his voice with an effort. "Disposing of his property," said Malvina, composedly. "I suppose from that letter, now, you didn't think he had any to dispose of \ Well, if you recollect, it didn't say it hadn't. The Colonel dictated every word of that letter just the day before he died 1" Malvina's voice trembled a little. "What he wanted to find out was which of his brothers was the l>est and kindest, and thought enough of him to be willing to put up with the poor, lonesome old woman he left alone; and that would be the one for his money, he said. And he 6aid all along?he seemed to feel certain of it?that it would be you, Uncle Holcomb, though you're the poorest of 'em 1" The deacon looked at her blankly. "You see, the Colonel was pretty successful of late years," said Malvina, "and there's enough for us both. My income would take care of h dozen forlorn old women like me, and your share? "Well, you'll find it's enough to build you the beat houso in town, and live better than my uncles, Seth and William, ever dreamed of doing?" Mrs. Holcorab folded her apron in her fingers tremblingly, and the deason struggled vainly to speak. "It's a sort of surprise, ain't it?" said Malvina, smoothing down the checked silk smilingly. "And now that I've let it out, I suppose you'll all be glad to let me go home. I'm nothing but a bothersome old woman." Perhaps it is needless to say that the bothersome old woman did not go home, neither then nor at any time; that Kate's wedding dress was the prettiest the town had ever seen, and that 'Gene's college course was promptly begun; nor that the deacon's surprise has not yet ceased to be a subject of wonderful discussion among his neighbors, not excluding his brothers Seth and William.?Saturday Night. A Museum of Crime. The Museum of Crime, opposite the private office of Inspector Byrnes, is a shuddering norror; not sv 1 much from what is seen as from what is suggested. Speaking likenesses of shop-lifters, pick-pockets, burglars, and eminent "crooks" glare from the walls upon visitors. Sledge-hammers whose heads are filled with lead, drags, drills, sectional jimmies, masks, powderflasks, etc., that were used in the Manhattan Bank robbery of October 27, 1878, challenge inspection in their glass cases. The rascals made away with $2,749,400 in bonds and securities, and about $15,000 in money, on that occasion; but, thanks to our unequaled detective sys-^ tem, did not retain all their booty. Here are samples of the mechanical skill of Gustave Kindt, alias "French Gus," a professional burglar and maker of burglars' tools, which he let out to impecunious thieves on definite percentages of their robberies. The assortment of burglarious kits, tools, keys, wax impressions, etc., is complete. The genius of Kindt and Klein, so wofully perverted, ought to have made their fortunes in legitimate fields of ope ration. Nat White's bogus gold brick; Mike Shanahan's eightcen-chambered pistol; counterfeit Reading Railroad scrip; the lithographic stone on which ten or twenty thousand spurious tickets of the elevated railroad were printed; stones for printing fractional currency; bogus railroad bonds used by confidence operators; the black caps and ropes of murderers; the pistols wherewith various persons were slain; the lock curiosities of j Langdon W. Moore, who knew how to J open combination locks through studying their emitted sounds; the box in which the same thief, known as "Charley Adams," put $216,000 in Government bonds, stolen from the Concord Bank, Massachusetts, in February, 1860, and which he first buried four feet below the surface of the Delaware River, and then dug up and surrendered when under arrest; the pipes, pea-nut oil, lamps, liquid raw opium, and pills used for smoking in opium joints?are all here.?Harper}e Magazine. Not a Poor Man's Paradise. California is not a poor man's country, aud nowhere is this more evident, says J. P. Burke in the St. Louis OlobeDemocrat, than in the rural and mountain districts. True, it is cheaper to live there than in the East, but it is harder to make money. Capital is centralized, and labor is so fearfully cheap that a poor man has no chance to make expenses. The men who are wealthy have enormous amounts, and most of them do not know how to spend it. I was recently up in Shasta County, and I would hear of local magnates with very common names, and be told: "Oh, Tubbs, he's worth $10,000,000, but he never leaves the county. All he does is i to work in his garden. He was once a ' laborer, and is close, but his sons spend the money." If I heard such expressions once I heard them a dozen times. The pioneers are nearly all wealthy. Transportation is bad through the northern part of the State on account of the almost impassable condition of the roads. If in fMvol <1 cortain rliutunPA Vflll JKJ U " W J a re generally obliged to hire a team, and that amounts to almost the same as buying it. I had to hire a team to go up into the country, and kept it thirty days. The owner charged me $300. I was forced to pay it, for justice is very sudden in the j mountains and I'd have been clapped in j jail in a jiffy had I callcd for a compromise. This was at Calistoga. Re- i turning thence to San Fraucisco by rail I discovered that in the State or local | travel the railroads have three classes of j coaches, with dress as a distinction. I j was rather roughly clad after my mountain trip, and approaching the ticketseller's window laid down a $20 gold piece. "First, second or third classP' I was asked, and I replied that I usually traveled first class. He surveyed me and then remarked that I'd have to go second class or not at all. It did me no good to object, either. I found first class to mean elegant coaches where well-dressed people only were allowed, second class for men of ordinary or rough dress, and j third class for Chinamen and negroes. | "Nazojfraphy." A French paper is soon to appear as the organ of the science of "nazography," a system which, the author say9, permits of divining the character, habits and inclination of people by a simple inspection of their noses. He says: A long nose is the sign of merit, power and genius; a straight nose denotes a just, serious, fino, j judicious and energetic mind; the Roman nose a propensity tor adventure; a wide j nose, with open nostiils, is a mark of sen- j suality; a cleft nose, shows bi-ncvolence; ; the curved, fleshy nose, is a sign of dora- : ination and cruelty; the curved thin nose, i 011 the contrary, is a mark of a brilliant mind, but vain, and disposed to be ironical; the turned-up nose denotes a weak mind, sometimes coarse, and generally nliivful. nleasant and frolicsome; a pale c J y I nose indicates egotism, envy, heartless- j Dess; and the quick, passionate, san- j guine person has a strongly colored nos? of a uniform shade. Coast Defences. We sat within the sitting-room And listened to the clock, It was as quiet as a tomb? I heard my heart knock, knock. For, ah, I loved that pivtty maid And yet I dared notsj>e:ik; And so I sat there sore afraid? Abashed, and shy, and meek. But presently, she looked so sweet, I swore an inward oath, I'd ask a kiss?though sure defeat Made me exceeding loath. With sudden move I strove to clasp Her trim and dainty waist? But swift she dodged mv eager grasp, Her lips I couldn't tasta. With her white hands she held me off? "These are," she smiling said, "My coast defences?do not scoff"? She tossed her dainty head, And as her fair cheeks swiftly warmed., She cried with modest air: "They're weak, perhaps, and might be stormed." I stormed them then and there 1 ?Cleveland Sun. , WOMAN'S WORLD. I PLEASANT LITERATURE FOR FEMININE READERS. Sewing Woraens' Day In New York. The young women of the middle classes who used to bo able to maintain themselves by taking home sewing for the manufacturing firms tind themsielves unable to earn their car fares since: the cuts in the prices of the few past years; while the poor women in the tenements who eked out a scanty living by such work are simply unable to exist. Three years ago per dozen was paid for cloaks, but A*- ' 1 ,11,, 11113 priuu una uccu auti-taaiuLij n,uun,u to $12, $9, $.6, $5, $4, and $3, until it is now $1 50 per dozen. Dress suits, flannel and sacque, are $1 8S per dozen; fancy wrappers are $4 per dozen; plain, 50 cents. Plain chcmises, 30 cents; aprons being 8 cents each; widc-heramcd handkerchiefs are 4 cents per dozen; narrow-bordered handkerchiefs, 2 cents per dozen; white sacques tucked are $3 per dozen; skirt and sacquc, $1 and $2 per dozen; jerseys being 30 cents per dozen; or 8 and 9 cents each. The women have to supply the thread, the silk costing 50 cents per spool. The work has to be delivered on alternate days, and often the item of car fares to those living in the suburbs equals the receipts at these rates. The manufacturers claim to be unable to pay any better, because their rates to thj retail dealers have been reduced, and the latter assert that the competition has brought the selling prices to cost. ?Ncio York Times. A New Extravagance. Fashion has invented a new extravagance This applies to the favors given, to the guests at parties. The custom began quite innocently enough. Inexpensive and odd souvenirs that preserved the memory of the occasion, without being vulgarly costly or extravagant in charac ter, were given. Now only money can establish the popularity of a dance favor.. It is no longer a question of how quain; the device is, or how appropriate, but o:t how much it costs. Society is laughing at a woman who gave a party, the guests * * _ j rc _ -..a -r ?14. ^1.1 at wxucii carneu ou u set ui ouil-uuhui.^ that she had bought, under the impression that they were intended for souvenirs. The other afternoon I came upon quite a gang of young men and women leaving a stylish house up town, each of the women carrying a canary in a tiny cage. The hostess had conceived the idea of giving a song bird as a favor for her afternoon tea. The next thing in this line may well be Skye terriers, pug dogs or Maltese kittens. Indeed, I am told that at a recent party of some thirty people each lady received a pair of love-birds in a cage. Love-birds, it may interest you to know, are tiny paroquets, about the size of sparrows, that do nothing but fight one another while they are together, yet die if a male and female aro not kept together in the cage. In South America Bie natives, thanks to this propensity, call them "man and wife."?New York , Nevoa. Novelties in Jewelry. Little coil or knot ear-rings, chased or plain, are still favorites. A row of small turquoise is sometimes set along the centres of queen chains. The.chascd sleeve-button, with round, plain Roman centre, set with a diamond star, is one of the prevailing styles. In the long catalogue of flower brooches the diamond-set carnation pink, in chased Roman finish, occupies a prominent place. A novel brooch is a perfen; imitation of an oyster shell in plain Roman finish, arid bearing in its centre a small bunch of ! bright enameled flowers. ' A little bouquet of apple-blossoms, violets or other flowers, in chased Roman fia- ! ish and having the pistils tipped with ! diamonds, makes an exquisite pin. In silver-plated ware the oxidized old ' silver style, which is extremely pleasing in effect and which will not tarnish, seems likely to prevail during the coming sea- 1 son. s Handsome collarettes of braided w'ire in open scroll work arc among the latest < novelties that have struck the belles' fnn- ( cv. Ear-rings i a the same style, with diamond centres and resembling flowers in , general contour, are also made. ( One of the prettiest onyx ear-rings made to-day consists of a faceted br.ll, , over the expose! side of which three narrow leaves of gold set with pearls are apnlied. and which appear to droop, while , the fourth loaf of the figure extends up- I ward to form the face of the top of the ear-ring. Beauties. Who AVere Old. Louis XIV., of France, wedded Mme. de Maintenon when she was forty-three years of age. Livia was thirty-three when she won j the heart of Augustus Caesar, over whom she maintained her ascendency to the last. Cleopatra was past thirty when An- , tony fell under her spell, which never lessened until hsr death, nearly ten years after. Pericles wedded Aspasia when she was < thirty-six, and yet she afterward, for thirty years or more, wielded an undiminished reputation for beauty. ' The famous Mme. Recaraier was thirty- . eight when Barras was ousted from pow- J sht> was without dispute declared to be the most beautiful woman in Europe, which rank she held for fifteen 1 years. 1 Nanon do l'Enclos, the most celebrated j wit and beauty of her duy,was the idol of three generations of the golden youth of France, and she was seventy-two when the Abbe de Berais fell in love with her. j Mile. Mars, the celebrated French tra- j gedienne, only attained the zenith of her ] beauty and power between forty and forty- , five. At that period the loveliness of her hands and arms especially was celebrated . throughout Europe. De Poictiers was thirty-six years of age . when Henry II.?then Duke of Orleans { and just half her age?became attached j to her, and she was held as first lady and r the most beautiful woman at court up w the period of the monarch's death. Catherine II.,of Russia, was thirty-three when she seized the Empire of Russia and captivated the dashing young General Qrlolf. Up to the time of her death?at sixty-seven?she seemed to have retained the same bewitching powers, for the la- J mentations were heartfelt among all those who had ever known her personally j Helen, of Troy, was over forty when ( she perpetrated the most famous elopement on record and as the siege of Troy j lasted a decade she could not have been . very juveni.e when the ili-fortune of ( Paris restored her to her husband, who , is reported to have received her with un- ] questioning love and gratitude. I White House Gossip. ( The New York Herald't Washington correspondent gives the following interesting chapter of White House news: "There is one room in the White House on the upper floor in the private part of the Mansion, to entering which' Mrs. Cleve laad confesses an cspecial aversion. It is the 'State bed-room,' which is next to the library on the south side of the building, directly above the Red Parlor. It is one of the most expensively furnished of any of the bed-rooms, and used to be called 'The President's room,' though it is believed none of the Presidents since the war have slept in it. "It has usually been kept as a bed-room of state, and it is asserted by those who should know that the Prince of Wales slept there when he visited President Buchanan. It is there that the ladies asked to receive with Mrs. Cleveland at formal receptions go to remove their wraps. On one such occasion during the past winter, when the wife of a member of the Cabinet was being shown into that room, Mrs. Cleveland, who was with her, drew back and said: 'Oh, I don't like this room; I never come here when I can help it, because it has sad associations for me. It was here that the President told me good-bye when I was going to Europe.' "This was when Mr. and Mrs. Folsom were at the White House in the autumn of 1885, just before they sailed for Europe. But the Blue Parlor, where she was married, and the East Room, where (as was learned from an admission made by the President himself at a dinner party a few weeks ago) the question was asked which brought about the wedding, can have only happy associations for the nnf'o lnvinnr Tirifr* Tt. WAS in a conversation in which he said: 'I often say to inj wife, ' 'Poor girl, you never had any courting like other girls," ' that the President said: 'It is true that I did say something to her one night,, when we were talking together in the East Room, when she was visiting my sister." "This is believed to have occured in the spring of 1885, when Miss Folsom made her first vWt to the Executive Mansion. That the love she promised then had begun much earlier, those who knew the present lady of the White House while she was at school firmly believe. One who was at the same school and intimate with Miss Folsom'a room mate there, say3 she recalls hearing the latter after she left school, when the news of the nomination of Grovcr Cleveland to be President of the Uniced States was published, say, reflectively: 'Grover Cleveland: why, that was the name of the man Frank Folsom used to talk so much about, that I used to tell her I believed she was in love with him.' "Others who knew Mrs. Cleveland as a child, say she was always devoted to - - - - -? 'Vi 1- -1 T_ _ her father's tnena, Mr. uieveiaua, wuu petted and indulged her almost from her infancy, and would always defend him when any one attacked him, and fly into a childish rage when unkind things were said of him in her presence. He was and is her hero." Fashion Notes. Flowers are largely used upon the spring bonnets. Striped surahs in all variety of colorings are to be worn this season. Buttons in all sorts of costly materials are now worn on outside garments. Gilt cord is seen on some very fashionable costumes this season as a finish. Colored laces form a part of some very elegant costumes for summer wear. The prettiest coiffure for a young girl is the loose queue with a curly or Russian bang. White will be less worn this season than usual and brilliant colors are to take its place. Among the novel spring mantles arc jome which arc composed entirely of passemeteric. Open meshes, amid otherwise solid designs, are a feature of the newest bead passementeries. Qnt-nnn nro tr> he finite elaborate W""'- ? -I iy made, and velvet is largely used for their trimming. Velvet and plush skirts are still stylish "or petticoats to some elegant and costly spring costumes. Trains of various descriptions are gen rally worn by married ladies with dinner )r evening toilets. Beaded vests, culls and epaulets arc in sets and come in a great variety of pretty designs and colors. Figured delaines are light and serviceable and make very pretty costumes foi j oung girls' house wear. Cashmere beaded trimmings, for trimming dark silks and vClvets, are shown. They are very rich and not conspicuous. Strips of pinked-out cloth of different colors, sewn together in two or tnree thicknesses, are worn in the collars and sleeves of dresses. Blouse waists will be extensively used for the summer dresses of girls upward of four years old. Kilt-plaited skirts will invariably accompany them. Braiding is still seen on English tailormade jackets, and gimps of bullion have been imported, which will give some of the spring coats a military effect. Colored beads arc in great demand for trimmings. Pink, amber, white, pearl, pale blue and green beads are maae up m everything hitherto made of jet. It is said that in Paris white kid gloves ire again a necessary adjunct to a ball costume. Swedish gloves are still preferred, however, for concert, theatre and evening wear. Many of the most fashionable spring mantles are of two materials. By aading i breadth of new material or setting on i different trimming the task of modernizing a last season's mantle bccomes an J 2asy one. Fine black laces, imitating Chautilly thread designs, will be used iu barbes, floi-frn f-in hnTvs r?n fclin tons of lunuiii^ iU1bv" w ? ?^ ~ i? ? bonnets, and wide strings are made of two rows of lace sewed together upon the straight edges. Among the recent importations of millinery goods are various kinds of transparent net, with bars, stripes, dashes or in plain meshes. These are used as entire bonnets, puffed upon wires, or drawn over flowers, partially veiling them. Desperate Fight With a Dcor. The other day as Sam Lusk and another man were driving the Nevada City and Downieville Stage Company's train of pack horses over the trail between Camptonville and Downieville, a big buck Dame dashing toward them. The snow ivas so high on both sides of the track that it could not turn aside and thus pass, md it dared not go back because some men were coming just behind it from the opposite direction. Lusk's companion grabbed it by a horn as it came toward [lira full tilt. The horn broke off aud the mimal struck him a terrific blow with Dne of its hoofs, cutting the flesh on his right hand to the bone. He grabbed it by the remaining horn before it could back off for another charge. Then ensued a desperate struggle which Lusk ended with a jackknife,cutting the deer's throat.?Nevada City(Cal.) Tranwript. j A ' V ?YttTB i 1iM?_ MAIL ROBBER^ HOW THEY ARE CAPTURED Bli POSTOFFICE DETECTIVES. Relentless Pursuit of Dishonest Employes of the Postal Service?A One-Dollar Bill With a History. Attached to the United States Mail service is a corps of sharp-witted and keeneyed detectives, whose exploits are seldom recorded in the columns of the newspapers, but who perform no small part in the safe conduct of the postal arrangements of the country. The men who compose the corps are known as postoffice inspectors. They are sometimes confounded with the agents of the United States Secret Service Bureau, but are in fact of an entirely distinct and separate organization, having not even a remote connection with the latter. New York is the most fruitful field for the postoffice inspector to exercise his genius. The headquarters of the corps was formerly situated at the southeast corner of the Federal building, up one flight of stairs, but recently, on account of the public character of the 'situation, the bureau was transferred to two large apartments on the fourth floor, where the work of the office is earned on free from the noise of the street and the intrusion of the public. Every complaint which comes to the postmaster of letters which have never found their destination is referred to the inspector for his thorough examination. Not a day goes by in which there are not several complaints of this description, aud consequently the inspector's hands are full with the hundreds of cases which accumulate so rapidly as to overburden his desk. It is said of a great express company that it never permits a dishonest employe to go unpunished, even if it should require years of high-priced detective skill it which to hunt him down, no matter how small may be the amount of loss which the company has suffered. Re# ords show that this express company has pursued a thieving servant for twenty years before a captui e was effected. The United States Government is scarcely less relentless with the robbers of the mails, but it seldom takes so long a time to corner the culprit. There is no branch of public or private industry where dishonesty is so certain of ultimate detection as in the United States postal service. A single theft may possibly escape notice, but a succession of thefts will make the thief's apprehension but a question ol time. The postoffice inspector is always a quiet, gentlemanly person. His dress is that of a well-to-do business man. There is nothing about him of the detective of fiction or the drama. He is familiar with the faces or ftunareas 01 tne suDorumaiea of the office, few of whom know him even by sight. His presence is always dreaded. One of the inspectors attached to the New York postoffice told a News reporter the other day some of the methods used in the detection of criminals in the service. The narrator is a tall, slender perBonage, of perhaps forty years, who has passed the major part of his life in the postal service, having been in the postoffcce in Boston, in the railway mail service between Boston and this city, and later an inspector in charge of the Southern division of the department. A keen, dark eye and shrewd Yankee face are a'l that distinguish him from the thousands one meets in elbowing one's way through crowded Broadway. He said: "When a clerk or letter-carrier once begins to pilfer from the mails he never stops until arrested. Upon that fact deI pends the certainty of his apprehension 1 info, TVin Trpsmnn tinnn 1 duvuc1 u1 1uiu1 auw vm?v* " ? -j. which we rely for catching the criminal is the Qlecoy letter, in which is inclosed a marked bill or bills. I could tell many an interesting experience in that connection." The inspector then took from a ca- i pacious pocketbook a $1 United States Treasury note well marked in blue ink. "I have," h# continued, "caught ten i thieves with this particular bill. Some- i how, I do not know why, there is a certain fatality connected withmarkid bills, | and if I put one marked and two un- i marked bills in ft letter which is stolen, the thief seldom spends the one which is sure to cause his detectron. "I lost the other day, however, a $1 bill which caused the arrest of over forty clerks and letter-carriers. It was literally covered with private marks. I placed in it a decoy letter with one marked bill to i catch a fellow attached to an uptown ! branch office. "When I arrested the man ; I found this note I have in my hand, but the other was gone. I offered to give him $10, if he would tell me where he spent it, but he refused."?New York j I Daniel in the Lion's Den. A rich old speculator imagined that he knew all about art, whereas he was an ignoramus in regard to ever)-thing, in ' fact, except in making money. This old fraud determined to make a valuable present to his son-in-law, who was a j preacher. It was suggested to him that an oil i painting representing Daniel in theLion'a , Den would be very appropriate, so an ! order was given to a painter to produce the work of art. It was almost liuished when the old speculator was called to inspcct it. It represented a cross section of the den with Daniel walking about among the lions. When the old man saw the picture he refused to take it. j He insisted that if Daniel was in the den ' neither he nor the lions could be seen, ! | and the artist had to cover the lions and j | Dan with a thick coat of black paint. j | When the son-in-law was presented with the picture he was somewhat dazed I to know what it represented. "It represents Daniel in the Lion's Den," replied the art critic. "But I don't sec either of them." "That makes no difference. They are in there. I saw 'em myself."?From tht German, in Si/tings. A Bomb Test. The inventor of a new kind of bomb, for which a patent is pending, came to : see the Commissioner of Patents at. "Washington. He brought with him a specimen bomb, which was enclosed in a pasteboard case, and lie showed it to the ( Commissioner's Private Secretary, Mr. | Will Montgomery. The investor said that it would go off as soon as it touched water, and this specimen would make a noise when exploded like a fire cracker, j The Private Secretary had some curios- 1 ity to see the bomb tested, and sent out and procured a pail of water. When the bomb was thrown into the water tho effect was startling. The water was forced up with violence to the ceiling, ' and fell in a shower pretty well all over { the room; while the noise of the explosion sounded like the report of a cannon. As soon as the few spectators could wipe the water ?ut of their eyes, they pro- j | nounced the test a success. j ' ? - ----- j ' ^ ' ' " ' - vv-i HOUSEHOLD MATTERS. Cleaning a Black Dress. A black dress, whose owner had wora it on a fishing excursion in a row boat, and was caught in a severe thunder shower while out on the water, hung month after month an eyesore, and, as she supposed, past cleaning without ripping. As the time rolled around that she might need it again for another ex :? 4. J1 uursiun, &ue tneu au experiment, tuiu. puw the shirt and overskirt, which were in one binding, into a large tubful of clear cold water. The basque did not need it. After soaking awhile it was brushed thoroughly, especially the platings, with . cast-off weavers' brushes, and hung out on a picket fcnce by the binding, dripping, not having been wrung or the water even squeezed out. The folds and plaits " , were bnished in place as well as possible as it hung, and it being of stiff goods, and the day clear and warm, it was soon dry and ready to bring in. It needed no ironing except in a few wrinkled spots, . . which she damped and pressed, ana she , felt so well satisfied with it that it has been worn afternoons, sweet and clean.? Cultivator. r\ Recipes. Mock Sausage.?Soak dry bread ia - 1 water. Take as much cold meat, chopped fine, as you have bread. Mix and season with salt, pepper and sage. Make >, into small cakes and fry in hot lard. Circle Cake.?One egg, one cupful J sugar, one-third cupful butter, one-half cupful sweet milk, two and one-half cupfuls flour, two heaping teaspoonfuls baking powder, a pinch of salt; flavor to taste. Homin? Muffins.?One cupful of cold c hominy, one beaten egg, three tablespoonfuls of melted butter, two-thirds of a cap of milk; stir into this mixture two cups of flour in which has been sifted two tea spoons of baking powder. Bake in mu ffin H rings in a quick oven. Plain Podding.?One egg, half cap BH of sugar, butter half size of egg, half cup H of currants, half cup of milk or water, H : heaping teaspoonful of baking powder _ -H I mixed with flour enough to make a stiff H batter; steam without removing cover for I an hour. Can be eaten with any good H sauce. Mj Matelote op Eggs.?Pout Into a stew pan a quart of water, the juice of a lemon, H add a bunch of mixed herbs, an onion, a ' clore of garlic, salt, pepper and spice; - H let them boil five minutes; take out the j seasoning with a skimmer; poach in the fl[ liquor some eggs one after another; take B them out singly and drain them. Dress j them in a dish upon some toasted bread. H Let the water boil a little, and then add BH while stirring it a piece of fresh butter the size of two eggs rolled in a spoonful -3^1 of flour; strain this sauce over the eggs and serve. ; userai Hints. jw ! The application of dry buckwheat flour II will sometimes remove grease from delicate fabrics. ' ' . ' Any letter not heavier than a silver dol lar/ which weighs a little less than an |H ounce, can go for a single two-cent HI stamp. H For cleaning brasses belonging to ma- VH hogany furniture use either powdered whiting or scraped rottenstone, mixed flfl with sweet oil, and rub on with a chamois skin. H An authority says if eggs are kept for H future use they should be turned over H twice a week. Also that eggs for hatching will keep two or three weeks if turned ' half over each day. Eggs should always ' be kept in a cool place, but where they will not freeze. |Hj Faded hangings may be restored by HH beating the dust from them and brushing', HI then apply a strong lather of caatile soap by means of a hard brush; wash the lather v off with clean water and afterward with ' alum water. When dry the colors will generally be found to be restored. Children's stocking knees can be mend* ed nicely by picking up a row of stitches below the hole and knitting a strip wide enough and long enough to cover the hole? good. Then whip down the edges to the stocking with yarn the same color as you knit the strip with. If you hare yarn like the stockings it can hardly be seen. New heels and toes can also be knit by cutting bH off the old ones and picking up the stitches. Knit the heel and sew in. _ A Missouri Court Scone. Mr. Charles P. Johnson has returned from Mount Vernon, Lawrence County, Mo., where he scoured a verdict for a client that he regards as one of the greatest of his triumphs. In February, 1886, HH this client, Michael Homer, was tried, j^H convicted of murdering Davis Boswell flU and sentenced to imprisonment for ninety nine years. On Saturday, at the end of |^B a second trial which had occupied two weeks, he was found guilty of manslaughter in the fourth degree and fined $G00. Said Governor Johnson: "I never saw such a scene in a court-room in my HBfl life as followed the rendition of the verdiet Saturday. When it was read Horner was too much agitated to move for a momen?., then he jumped at least three feet high, swung his hands in the air, and as he came down to the floor yelled with all his might. Then he gave another leap HH and another yell, and another. Men in HB the crowded room answered his yell with whoops as loud. Horner's young wife HH fairly threw her baby into the first pair of arms that offered, sprang upon the jurors, hunrnwrl Rverv one of them and kissed OD ? / three or four. Then she and her husband sprang upon the judge and shook his hands like pump-handles. The sheriff lost all control of the crowd, and had to let them whoop. Both sides, friends and enemies, congratulated Homer, all feeling that he must be right, as he had won dually. He had been in jail since July, 1885, in spite of the efforts of his friends to secure his release on bail. He immediately paid the fine aud went home with his wife.?St. Louis Post Dispatch, Contagion in Barrels. Health Commissioner De Wolf recently addressed a communication to the sanitary committees of the'Legislature on a AHA hierhlv important subject. Dr. De Wolf states that it is the practice of families purchasing flour, lard, butter, etc., in quantities to sell their flour barrel;, butter firkins, and lard tierces to persons who regularly call for them. These barrel, etc., are again sold to dealers, and they are repacked with similar artioles. In very many cases, the Doctor says, kHH these receptacles are kept in mouldy places, and frequently are purchased from families in whose houses infectious diseases have existed, and he considers the practice of refilling these receptacles as highly injurious to public health. A bill is now pending before the Legislature preventing the sale o! these second-hand barrels, and the Health Commissioner will urge its passage and strict enforcement. ? Chicago Journal. EBflfl The Latest Catch.?"Did you ever see a cent and a quarter?" "Why, no." "Ah, you didn't; well, here it is," and a cent and a quarter of a dollar are shown. - -