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SClNO OF THE STREET MUSICIAN. When the warm rains fall, when the bright suns shine, When the sap is flowing bncli in the long grapevine, When the Iambs begin to bleat and the leaves i begin to grow. Merrily I follow with the fiddle and tne bow. My father has a harp, its sound is very | sweet, We stand beneath the balconies together on . the street: E? is thinking of the land where the pleas- ' ant olives grow; But I can think of nothing but the twanging j of the bow! Happy are the orchards, rosy with their fruit; Happy are the long nights when the string is ' mute; Happy is the greensward where the maidens go Dancing to the music of the fiddle and the law ; ]Sow th^ earth is frosty, now the sky is pale, The leaves begin to fall and the winds begin * to wail; Mingled with the night storm, muiHecl with i the snow, Listen at 3'our windows to tin twanging of j the bow! ?Dora R. Goodalc, in the Independent JOE'S STORY. by kraxk n. converse. Mother dieil some time last May. There wasn't any one I belonged to then, j sol had to hus'le for myself, like most I of us newspaper chaps have to. I hadn't any reg'lar place to sleep, but it comin' on summer 1 didn't carc so much, 'ccpting, of course, when it rained. Then a fellow (an generally find cover some- j where, if it isn't so nice. But this night I'm going to tell of was pleasant and warm. The "cop1' didn't I drive mc otf ray private settee in Central Park till nigh one in the morning. Guess he overslept himself. When I'm roused up that way, I generally make Morrison's, way down town, I my headquarters. It's a high-toned place, so it's cheaper forme to stop out- j side. But there's the light from the , windows, and every time the big doors j swing open a fellow can see, just for a minute, eating and drinking going on, j and if he imagines a good deal, why it's almost as good as being inside. Three swell looking chaps was stand- J ing outside wlien 1 got there. Kot for i the same reason I was, though. They'd j been to the theater, or somewhere's else, and as I heard oue of 'em say, it was too early in the evening to think of going to bed. T+ woo Tnnl- ATnnrrlior cnifl tllftf.. "Handsome Jack," lliey usedtocall him . in our ward, where be was raised. All I us fellows know "Handsome Jack" by i sight. Though you'd never think he ; come from any such low down place as i Water street, to look at his swell rig and ' hear him talic. But they say he's one of them kind that catches on easy to real gentlemen's i ways. And he's great on faro and poker, | so of course he's hand aud glove with chaps that's trying to see iife through a club wiuder. Now, though it's me says it, I've a bit of a voice of my own, wherever I got it. \ For a spell I was choir boy at St. j Michael's, with a white surplus and all that sort of thing. But the otliers chaffed j me about not having any shirt, so I left. I So sometimes, when I was stuck on j papers cr e > tra hard up, I used to siug for nickels front of Morrison's just about ' this time of night?the "catchy" songs that happens to be going, such as we chaps pick up on the street. So when ''Handsome Jack" sec3 me he calls out: "Hello." he savs. "here's Joe. the ! boy that sings." And nothing to do but the three of 'em must take me inside for a song. There was another one of the party I knowed by sight. He used to buy papers of me reg'lar, one time. I heard 'em say his folks left him a pile of money and he was gettin' through it as fast as "Handsome Jack," and such as he, could help him. Hut I ain't givin' no one away in this story. I'm not oue of that j sort. I ain't a .New York reporter, and don't you forget it. So this man was Smith?John Smith. P'raps you've heard the name, but it isn't the same man?it's a second cousin of his. But it was him that sec me down to one of the little tables with a plate of sandwiches. After we once got inside, Smith didn't seem to have much to say to the others, | or to anybody else, for that matter, lie stood leaning up against the bar counter ; with a cigar in his mouth, but I see he'd forgot to light it. Jr-'oine of the young fellers he knew joked him a bit, but he didn't seem to notice it much. And I kiDd of wondered what ailed him - good ; looking, plenty of money, and all the , rest of it. "Haudsonie Jack," with a friend of ! nis, sac- uawn to ine tau;e nign mine, with the dunks between 'em. I've got a pair of sharp cars of my own, and 1 heard the other one sa}- : "Smith's about squeezed dry, eh, i Jack." "Yes, poor fool," Jack says, as easy j as you please; "nothing mere to be got ' from him. If he wants to borrow any- | thing, just give him the cold shake. ! That's just what I shall do. A fellow's got to look out for number one in this ! world." The man with Jack nodded. And I ; remember thinking what a healthy lot > of friend's Smith's money had bought him. Well, after I got through, I stood up like a little man to pay for what I'd had i ?in my way. I sung 'em two or three ' of the things that was popularest then, i but somehow they didn't seem tc take, i "Can't you give us something differ- 1 ent from those stale chestnuts?" some one says, and I pulled up short. I wa3 going to leave them then and there, but 1 Smith it was who stopped me. "Never mind'em, .'oe,*'he says kind of low like: "can't you think of some- ] ining a nine mnerent?sometning none of us have heard." Whatever made me do it I don't know to this day. It was what they used to sing at St. "Michael's, -lust one verse was all I could remember then: " I was not always thus, cor prayed that j Thou 1 ShoulJst lead me on: I loved to chose and see my path. But now ! Lead Thou me on: I loved the garish day, and 'spite of tears. 1'ride ruled my heart, Remember not past 1 i years." Of course I haven't got learning, 'cept such kind as a fellow picks up in the ' street. And I never used to sense the meaning of the church music, like I did ! the tune?. And wheu 1 got through 1 | wondered what made it so still in the room for a minute. Smith was the first one spoke. Not spoke exactly, for it was a kind of a groan. Then he yanked his hat over his ?ves and went out. "Guess you needn't go on, Joe," says "Handsome Jack,"lookingup; "you've 1 drove one man off a'readt" "Too rich for Smith's Blood," another ^ne laughed, and so they were going on, when a young fellow, who had n't spoken before, put in his word. "Let up," he says. kind of serious like, "don't kick the man, now he's down. The crirl Smith was engaged to used to he leading soprano at Trinity, and people came from far and near to hear her sing that as a solo. It kind of upset him hearing it, 1 suppose." ' Well,some laughed and some sneered, but I didn't wait to hear what else was said. A fellow shoved a quarter in my hand and I slid out. Smith was standing under the'lectric light on the corner, with his han'sinhis pockets and his hat over his eyes as I was goin' past. He catched me by the shoulder ? not rough, though ? and twisted me round. "Joe," he says, sudden like, "if I had some of the money I've thrown away, you should have a new suit of clothes from top to toe." For ray duds was just awful, and that's the fact. J'ags anil patches, only the rags was worst. And before I knowed what he was doin', he went down on his knees, and after fumblin' about his ve>t a bit, pinned up the biggest tear of all, so's the bare skin didn't show quite so bad in where my trowses was ripped from knee up. Course I didu't think nothing much of it more than it was kind of a freak took him, till next mornin'. And if you'll believe mc, Smith had took a pin? opil, sot with little dimuns?outer his necktie for to pin up my rags with. I didn't kuow what lo do at the lirst i of it, not having any idea where to look for Smith. And not movin' in what you might call the highest circles, inv 'quaintances mostlj' wasn't them I'd care to ask advice of rc^ardin' jewelry. Kilt there's a young lady lives up nigh Washington Square that was awful good to mother while she was sick. She belongs to a "guild," I think they call 'cm, and teaches a mission school down ! in our ward, where I used to drift in sometimes of a Sunday. I took the piD to her and told her the whole story. She turned whiter'n one of the marbl9 statutes in her parlor when the sees the pin. Hut she never spoke for a minute. "You did quite right to bring me this, ? .1 n ??\Tr Smith #; oe, sue bttja, au^i t* is?a?a friend ol mine, and I will see it returned to him. If, as you lieard, he lias lost all his money " And then she stopped, and walked to the window. She stood there lookin' out at nothin' ever so long. Then alio j gave me a dollar and I left. And it was j over a year 'fore I ever heard of or see ; Smith again. But meanwhile INIiss?the young lady ; I'm speaking of?Miss Blank, I'll call her, got me a steady job carrying out papers for a newsdealer she knowed. And We'nesdays and Fridays she paid me for blowin' the little organ to the ' mission chapel I was telling of. 1 was late that day, and when I got to | the mission little Mike Dwyer was j blowin' in my place. There wasn't a ' soul there to hear, but Miss Blank was kind of play In' all to herself, so I sot down a bit to lis'en. fc-'ome one come shufllin' in and sot down near the door. When I looked j ,rtnn,l Iip'i] Hrnnnml liis arms on the ton I of the settee for'ard of him aud laid hi'g ! face down 011 'em. "Half druuk,likely enough," I said to myself?for lots of that kind drift into the mission?it being sort of in the slums, as you may say. But its folks of that kind the mission is trying to get hold of. And this man,so far as Icould make out by his seedy rig, seemed to bs something in that line of business. "Whilst I was in the choir boy line, 1 heard some pretty good sinjr:ng as a ; matter of course. But talk about your i sopranos?Miss Blank just went ahead I of anything. Curious wasn't it, that she should all at ouce have struck iu on "Kindly Light V "So long Thy power hath blessei me; sura, it still Will lead me on, O'er moor and feu?o'er crag and torrenttill The night is gone; Ami with the morn those augal faces smile Which I bave loved long smco?and lost j awhile." She and the organ stopped all at once. ! 7t was still as death in the vestrv, aud 1 heard her.idvc kind of a sob. "Great 1 leavens!" says the man be- ; hind me. And I look round again to j shake mv head at him. But you might : have knocked me out with a feather ! duster iu one round. It was Smith? but his own mother if she'd been alive ; never'd knowed him. Pale and peaked, ? with a shiny coat and trowses fringed at j the bottoms?well, he didn't look "much j like the Smith I see at Morrison's, you ; can bet. All the same, I knowed him: and | went for him like a shot, for he was making a break for the door. "Mr. Smith?Mr. Smith," I suug out, j "slop, I want to tell you about your ' scarf pin. Miss Blank has got it, and " ' Arthur!" It wa< only a word, but it turned me round like a top. There stood Miss j Blank, staring at Mr. Smith?only j staring isn't the word?who I was hanging onto like anything. Fori was bound j to make myself square about the scarf | l)in. "Arthur,she says again, and sank' down onto the settee like she was faint. He never said a word. He put his hands over his face, went square down on his knees front of her and dropped his head in her lap. I ain't none too bright about things like that; but I've read love atorie? in the papers before now, and I see that wasn't no place for me, so I litoutsoon's I got my wit's about me, aud let 'era fix things up their own way befoie any one come in. Was they mr.rried finally? Well, I should say so. And I always cal'lated I had a hand in it, too. For, don't you see, the opil and dimun' piu was one Miss Blank had give him for a birthday ever so long before?that's how she knowed it so quick. And that's all.? JVeio York Arjosu. There Were Giants in Those Days. Iu the battle of Aqu;e Fextito, the Roman battle-front held its own by a six-fold line of spearmen, but was filially broken by an expedient of the barbarians, who, says Dr. Felix L. (Oswald in the loir, by means of leaping poles, Hung themselves into the midst of the serried legions and attempted to force the light bv a hand-to hand connict. On the battle-tield of Adrianople the sudden panic of the Roman troops was ascribed to the exploit of a Gothic warrior, who hurled his lance through the body of a mail-clad adversary, ancl seizing the laucc-handle with both fists held up his skewered foeman as a standard-bearer would hold aloft a brass eagle of five or six pounds. Teutobot, a chief of those Northland giants, could leap full-armed, over six horses, standing side-oy-side; and the trained lions, which n Koinan commander had imported at g eat expense, were all killed in the .irst encounter with the vanguard of the undaunted barbarians. "They mistook them for do js," says the historian, "and knocked their brains out." The police department of Boston costs the city $1,250,1)00 per year. I BUDGET OF FUN. HUMOROUS SKETCHES FROM various sources. \ Preference ? A Beg<rar to Be Pitied?The Athletic Craze?An Assumed Name ? A Way Out, Etc., Etc. 'Do you believe that Dr. Holmes was right when he said 'poverty is a cure for iyspepsia?'" "It may be. I'd rather have the dyspepsia."? Bazar. a Be?r?ar to Be Pitied. Scene?A lonely spot on a dark night. "Would the gentleman be so kind as to assist a poor uian? Beside this revolver, I have nothing in this wide urorld."?Boston Gazette. The Athletic Craze. Mr. Muscle, of the A. A. A. A. A. A.? "Ah! Mr. Highjumper.thisisMr.tStrongirm, of the 0. I. C. Lr. It. A. N. A. T. 11. L. E. T. E. Club?Mr. Strongarm, this - -?r_ 1I5_U: \ n t? r .s Jur. iij^ujuuijjci, vi mi/ ii. v. j. . t. E. S. 0. A. U. S. Club."?IS'cm York Sun. An Assumed Name. Quillpen?"Is your sister still writing under an assumed name, Penman?" Penman?"Yes; Mrs. Smith. She issumed Smith's name about a year ago.*'?Burlinjto:i Free Frm. A "Way Out. Anglomaniac?"That's the way it goes. If we hunt foxe=, folks say we're cruel; if we hunt aniseed bags, folks laugh at us. What can we hunt, without exciting indignation or ridicule?" Small Boy?"Bats!" ? New York Weekly. They End at the Resinning. City Business Man?"At last I am rich enough to retire from business." Friend?"What are you going to do?" "I am going to buy the old farm that [ ran away from and live on it."?Philadetyhia llecord. The Latest. "Dear Friend?"Be sure you come next Tuesday?our day at home. In the first placo Stricholini, the violinist, will '? ??- c-i piay; iuiie. ouiierauwaivi* jo w atu^, ?*uu. Professor Grubler has promised to predict an earthquake." ? Frankfurter Zeitung. His Relations. Young maa (haughtily to old man)? "No, sir; I have no reference. I belong to the famous Key family, sir; and that is enough." Old Man (bluntly)?"Any relation to the Mon-Kcy and the Wilis-Key and the Don-Key families?"? Washington Critic. Up With the Times. Johnny Dumpsey?"Say, Willie, didn't you ever think you'd like to be a pirate when you grew upi" Willie Popinjay (contemptuously)? "No! Pirates are played out. I want to be a member of some big Trust, or a boodle Alderman or something of that sort."?Burlington Free Frets. Too Ethereal For Exposure. Tramp?"Madame, haven't you anything to give a poor, hungry, freezing gentleman?" Woman?"Oh, yes; I'll give you 'good morning.'" Tramp?"Thank you, madame. Now couldn't you give mc something to wrap it up in?"?Yankee Blade. A Canadian St. Helena. First American Exile?"What caused your banishment to these shores Second American Exile?"Oh,about a year ago I started out in life to bo a young Napoleon of tinance." First American Exile?"Well?" Second American Exile?"Well, this is my fcjt. Ileleaa."?New Yurk Sun. Reassured. Mr. Kambo (at dime museum in great alarm)?"Nancy, do you sec anything in that cage near the monkey ?"' Mrs. Kainbo?"Yes, there's a lot of snake?." j\!r. Rambo (with recovering selfpossession)? "So they are. Fine specimens too, arcu't they?'*?Chixcjj Tribune. A Dolicate Foot. Fashionable shoe store. "What size do your wear, madame?" "Number four." Clerk?"Take a seat. I think I can fit you. * * !:: Madame, I lind that you require a number eight, at least." "Number eight! Well, that's a four, isn't it?four for each foot?"?Chicago Knowledge* Is Not Money. Miss l'enelope Peachb'.ow?"Who is that?" Mr. Jonathan Trump?"Oh, that's Professor Digbv, who knows everything, lie's considered" one of the most profound scholars in America." Miss Penelope Peachblow?"Well, why doesn't he have his hair cut?" J\lr. Jonathan Trump?"He can't afford it."?Life. Grandma in a Bo*. Bobby (who is visiting his kind old grandmother)?"I wouldn't mind eatin' some of that nice hot bread, grandma." Grandma?"Well, Bobby, you can have all you want of it." "Bobby?"Ye3, but ma won't let me eat hot bread." Giandma (testing the lad's moral strength)?"She won't know anything about it, Bobby." Bobby?''All right, grandma, just give me a piece, please."?L'axtr. The Precautionary Measure. lie?' Will you marry me?" She ?"Wait a minute." ("Exit. Returning with a shot gun.) "Hold up your hands! Higher yet! Iain sorry to say, .Mr. Brown, that I can only be a sister to you. You must pardon my seeming rude conduct, but so many young women are getting killed nowadays by rejected suitors that I thought a little precaution would not be out of place."?Boston Uazeite. Mnk's Hie Skin Vorra Tonner. A minister, with a rather ilorid complexion, had gone into the shop of a barber, one of h's parishioners, to be shaved. The barbor was addicted to heavy bouts of drinking, after which his hand was consequently unsteady at his work. In shaving the minister on the occasion referred to he inflicted a cut sufficiently deep to (.over the lower part of the face with blood. The minister turned to the barber and said in a tone of solemn severity: "You see, Thomas, what comes of taking too much drink." "Ay," replied Thomas, "it mak's the skin verra tenner."?Sheffield Telegraph. "Western Populations. Stranger (in Western city)?"I understand jou claim 100,000 population for this townl" Directory Man?"Yes, sir. We have in the Directory, just being finished, 20,000 names. That multiplied by five, ' the average size of a family, makes 100,, 000. See?" Messenger Boy?"Please, sir, Mr. Hardtype wants to know how many copies of ttxat Directory you want printed?" Directory Man fafter some figuring)? "I'm! I guess fifteen will be enough." ?Xeu> York Week'y. More Information "Wanted. Lawyer (hotly)?"Do you mean to say, sir, that you do not consider Mr. De Lyre a raau of his word?" Witness?"I do." "You do. eh? Do you mean to insinuate that he ever lies?" "That's about it." "Now, sir, attention! Do you mean to say that you would not believe him under oath;" "No, I have not said that." "Oh, ho! I thought I'd catch you. Then you didn't say you would not believe him under oathr" "No. I haven't heard him do any talking under oath yet."?Neio York Weekly. TTow a Divine Was Softened. "Reporters arc the mildest of men?" They arc often so, aud sometimes the wittiest of men too; and their wit serves them when argument fails. A celei brated cation of the English Church j was aanounced to speak at a meeting, and on this occasion did not wish his address reported. He communicuted his desire to the gentlemen of the pre?s who were present. They remonstrated j with him. "The interest of the evening was centered in him." "They were sent by their chiefs especially to take his speech." The canon was inexorable. He would not' be reported. At that one of the fraternity said, with a merry twinkle in his eye: "What! a canon go off, and no report?" It is needless to say that all the papers i contained the address.?London Tid-Bits. Finding Out His Standing. "EUnira!" It was a young man of South Boston who spoke, his words fraught with meaning, aud a look of terrible earnestness plastered on his brow. The maiden whom he thus addressed was seated on an elegant ottoman of raw silk and plush. It was the first time Gawge had called her by her first name, and a blush of terra cotta red tore its way over hex check. "Elmira," said the young man teuderly, "I have been calling, olE and on, in this house for the last elcveD ' years. May I hope that you no longer j think of rae as a stranger?" A tendei ! light came iuto the young girl's eyes, i ! but she said nothing. "I do not think it is conceit, when 1J I say that you have led me to believe bv I your actions that I am not distasteful to 'you? Nay, eveu," and here his deep, | niauly voice took a tone that thrilled I lier to her loudly-beating heart, "thai ! you think well of nief" The young girl lifted her statuesque ; head, and with a teardrop glinting and glistening on her loug odalisque eyelids, replied: "Yes, Gawge." ((TltAn flint's oil " COlfl fVlfl 1 uuiij mail o uu n^ui, uuim young man briskly. "I want to marry yonr sister, so I thought I would see that 1 was all square with the family before I proposed."?Boston Jiecord. Whaling ou Horseback. Several years ago a student who was interested in whales weut to Cape Cod to spend the summer, because he knew that the animals were often caught there. Ilere is his description of a very strange ; and exciting sccuc: I The tide was dead low, and had left i ' big sandy flat almost bare, on which the I sea beat furiously, and with a roar thai | was deafening, but inside the bar was a stretch ol water forming a little inclosed lake about half a mile wide and from three to four feet deep. This was comparatively smooth, and in it were about twenty enormous black objects flounder! iug and rushing al out, lashing the watei I into foam, and followed by a dozen 01 I more men, part of whom were on horse back like ourselves. It was a school of whales aud blackI fish. In some way they had been trapped ' inside of the bar and when the tide went J out thoy were at the mercy of the whalers on horseback. Every one was greatly I nvr'tffl Tlir> liorsns were ur<?cd into the I water, while their rulers, aimed with ' harpoons, lances, boat-hooks or any othei j weapon that happened to be at hand, | were endeavoring to capture as inauy ol I the monsters as possible. j In we plunged, the horses at first snort! ing with terror, but, ouce in the water, 1 they seemed to share the general excitement and plunged madly after the excited sea-hunters. Here and there were blackfish that had been wounded and I their tails were beating the water with terrific force: others were tearing up and I down with lightniug speed. Soon one ! of the horses was fairly lifted from its : feet by one of the struggling lish and thrown sprawling into the water. A j roar of laughter greeted the rider as he , ! rose from the water. The men kept up an incessant yelling and splashing, and so gradually forced the monsters up the creek, if so it could could be called. The great creatures seemed to know that they were running into a still more fatal trap, and they made J great efforts to break through the Hue ot ! horses and men. The appearance of a great black animal rushing at you, I j floundering along, beating* the watei ! with blows powerful enough to kill horse j ! or man, gave a strong flavor of danger to j ; the adventure. m- - ? 1 it-!- ~ 1,T\ unfil , J Or au iiuin luis ?vua acjil uj#, . | ! finally, one by one, the animals were I j driven upon the shoal and dispatched, j They were all from fifteen to twenty-five j feet long.?Philadelphia Times. When a JIena?eric Was Eaton. After all supplies from outside had ! been cut oil from Paris by the German : I nrmy (2Cd September, 1ST0) it was de- J , termined to sacrifice the inmates of the j j Zoological Gardens (the Jardin des, | Plantc3). The animals were slaughtered j and eaten. Mont ol these creatures were j I sold to an English butcher named j ; Deboos, who had a shop in the Avenue de Friedland, well stocked through the j siege with all possible and previously j impossible kinds of meat. Killing the j elephants, Castor and Pollux, presented > gome difficulty. The former was firei) j at three times,and was finally dispatched i i by means of a steel bullet from a (Jhasse! pot. A single shot behind the eai \ brought Pollux to the ground. The j j llesh of the elephant was sold at about $1<; j . a kilo. Trunk and feet were regarded a? i particular delicacies by the gourmets. The same butcher sold the llesh of a , young wolf at about $5 a kilo. The | llesh of the cassowaries was bought by j Baron Hothschild, one of the best j customers of Mr. Deboos. Almost al! the parrots were consumed by Mr. Arsene Houssaye and Dr. Ricord. Horses were not exposed for sale in the Avenue de Friedland, but foals were, and theii | meat was called 'inspiriting flesh" 1 (Ti&nde d'elan).?National Jicoitv. :s." 1 ' . HOUSEHOLD MATTERS. Pin Cushion Cover. Take a cushion six inches square and cover the top with dark green satin eight inches square. Sew alfaround the edges of the cover before attaching to cushion a band of rose pink satin three inches wide. Put the right sides of satin together and sew it in slashes one inch wide and one and one-half inches deep. Cut the slashes out with the scissors, turn them carefully and then with a needle and thread tack each sla?h half way over, diagonally, showiDg the pink satin against the green. Under the slashes all around put a frill of lace, and on the upper corners of the slashes put tiny chenille balls of rose pink. Embroider or paint in the center of the cover a design of wild roses. Fasten this cover firmly to the top of the cushion.?Detroit Free Press. A Potent Charm in Housekeeping. A father, says a German story, when his daughter became a bride, gave her a golden casket, with the injunction not to pass it into other hands, for it held a charm which, in her keeping, would be of inestimable value to her as the mistress of a home. Not only was she to have the entire care of it, but she was to take it every morning to the cellar, the kitchen, the dining room, the library, the parlor, the bed-rooms and to remain with it in each place for at least five minutes?looking carefully about. After the lapse of three years the father was to send her the key, that the secret talisman might be revealed. The directions were followed. The key was sent. The casket was opened. It was found to contain an old parchment upon which were written these words: "The eyes of the mistress are worth a hundred pairs of servants' hands." The wise father knew that a practice of inspection followed faithfully for three vear3 would become a habit and be self-perpetuating?that the golden casket and the hidden charm would have accomplished their mission. We commend this story to those housewives whose homes, like the primeval chaos, are "without form, and void."? New York Telegram. The Value of Salt. Salt is one of the most impo/tant of /Inmnnfin rl n n rl An n l fnr 5p<m*!plv JIT1V UUUiWWO UV/WWUWVUW.VWJ , food, meat, vegetables or dessert, can be made entirely palatable and satisfactory without it. Only a "pinch" will make an otherwise insipid and tasteless compound often appetizing and welcome; but too much will effectually ruin a good dish, while it is always easy to 'add a little more. A. few spoiled dishes will usually teach a young cook this simple les3on. All soups are better well salted, not enough to be noticed, only a "suspicion." .Most kinds of cake and all kinds of pies require a little salt besides the butter used, for good butter is not sufficiently salt. A fair supply of salt, a dash of pepper aud a very generous allowance of butter is recommended for most vegetables in preparing them for the cable, and many a vegetable cook has made a good name as cook on this one principle. ?It (1,? eV.n?lr1 1v> 1 JL JUG OttlO UUA ill IUW iWl/VHUii ouwuiu vw I kept at a little distance only from the fire, for there it is most often needed. Yet how often we see it hung in the remotest point, causing numberless steps and useless labor that might be saved by locating the materials and implements j conveniently for the one whose duty is j to use them often. "With the greatest i care liquids will sometimes boil over on the black and shining range; a small handful of salt thrown on at once will seem to absorb the bad odor and smoke, and the place can easily be cleaned with a newspaper. Mica, in stoves, too, ] is made as clear as new by the use of a I solution of salt and vinegar. Dry salt is an "eradicator" of spots, too. on linen and woolen goods, superior to any prepa-* rations in "the market." It will elfectually draw out ink spots'from carpets, or any woolen goods, if immediately applied and repeated, and, combined with | lemon juice, will remove both ink and mildew from linen, if placed in the sun, and this without injury to the fabric, while strong acid9 or soda will remove both stain and fabric. When broiling steak a small handful of salt thrown on the coals prevents the blaze from discolj oring the meat. A little in starch prc| vents the irons from sticking, and if j irons are rough, put a little salt on a j thick brown paper, lay a piece of thin muslin over it, and rub the iron on it till j perfectly smooth. If new calicocs are j allowed to lay nne hour in strong salted ; water the colors are less liable to fade in future wear and washings. The same is ; true of black hosiery. Damp salt will ' remove the tea stains and cliscoior.uions | from cups and sauccrs, left by careless j washing. It is said that a teaspoon fill | of salt in cach kerosene lamp makes the j oil give a much brighter, clearer light.? Independent, Rccines. HicrcorvYNcT Cookie?.? Two cups of sugar, one cup of butler, two eggs, six I tablespoons of sweet milk, one teaspoon I of cream tartar, one-half of soda, one | cup of chopped nut meats, enough liour j for a batter. Slumgulltox.?Take one pound of raw, chopped beef, one quart of onions j and one quart of potatoes chopped fine; add enough water to cover well; season | with pepper and salt and boil until the onions are done. Salmon* Cuoquettef. ?To a small salmon picked up fine add a large cup of crackers, three eggs well beaten, butter, salt and pepper. Then moisten with cream to the consistency to roll in shape. Koll in cracker crumbs and fry in very hot fat, as crullers. *1 n n?1. ??u fioV, l^OUl'ISII UALLN LUU& sum (.uuu-JU by soaking in water, but do not let it boil. I3oil the potatoes and mash. Let both fish and potatoes get thoroughly cold. Use a third more codfish than potatoes. Mix and moisten with a cream gravy made of a large sized piccc of butter, some milk ami Hour to thicken. Form ia balls and fry in hot fat. Hot "Water Spokgk Cake.?Two cups sugar, two cups flour, four eggs, white and yelks beaten separately aud very light; two teaspoons baking powder, three-fourths of a cup q/ boiling water, the boiling water to be added after all tho other ingredients arc beateu together. Bake in two layers in tins 11x7 inches. Put together with jelly and frosting. ~ * 3 IS 1 CAUl.fKi.ownn.?1'iace a ncaa 01 cauullower in salt water for a few minutes to | remove insects. Boil twenty minutes in j salt water, drain on sieve and put it in j a buttered dish. Melt a piece of butter the size of an egg, add to it one table-| 6poonful of Hour, stir on the tire one minute aad add a gill of milk and pepper and salt, iftir this sauce until it boils. Pour over the cauliflower, sprinkle over it a few- browned bread crumbs and set in a moderate oven for a few minutes to bake. Patty Ckustp.?"Rol! out the dough to a thickness of a quarter of an inch in ! square shapes; cut out 'he patties with I the cake cutter, place tbem on a cake j pan, which must not be .-.oo thin and must be wetted with water. Take one ! egg "weM whippsd, and a few drops of milk. With a brush color the tops 1 / - jy. -- .,r - / -- - * maaaiMMiHi / ~ "" , f v' without touching the sides; then with a smaller cutter mark the patties, but not too deeply in the center, and put in an oven hot enough to roast a chicken. | When cooked take out the centers with. a knife and use them as covers. Traits of Inventor Ericsson. Captain Ericsson was a very muscular man, although not endowed with a large ' frame. He was five feet nine inches in height, and his average weight was 178 | pounds. It is told of him that one day, i while on the Monitor, which was build! ing at the Delamater Works, he came across a heavy piece of iron lying on the i floor, and told two workmen to pick it | up and take it to the opposite side of the building. The men said the piece was too heavy for them to lift, and started to get a truck. "Without a word he lifted the iron and carried it to the place where he wanted it. It was affterward weighed, and tipped the beam at 460 pounds. It was his usual custom to take his walks in the evening, because he had an I idea that the air then was purer and ! freer from dust, and for many years he j strolled up to Broadway and promenaded : the lower part of that street until he felt ; that he had had sufficient exercise. The glare and fantastic shapes of the electric lights annoyed him so much, however, that he was compelled to abandon his evening enjoyment. After that he sel| dom went out of his house, except into | the back yard, where experiments were made. This indocr life never seemed in j the least to interfere with his robust ! health. I Captain Ericsson never saw visitors | except those who were engaged in his j particular kind of work. To see others he thought was a criminal waste of i time. Practically he was absolutely excluded irom the world. It is related of . him that several years ago General Mc| Clellan desired to become personally : acquainted with the great engineer and : employed the services of John Newton, one of Ericsson's few friends, to obtain an audieuce for him. The Captain replied that while he felt Mattered by the request he "wa9 too old to make any new acquaintances and must beg to be cxcused." The old house in Beach street will, in accordance with the expressed wish cf Captain Ericsson, be maintained for some time to come precisely as it now is. >~othiug iu it is to be disturbed, and the work which he planned in it is | to be continued there by the men who j assisted him in life.?New York Commercial Advertiser. a villager's L>nein muia. Let us try to get an idea of the Tndian | villager's life in a particular locality. It I has been described by a writer who I knows it well as one of unremitting toil. ! He rises before daybreak, and after a | few mouthl'uls of stale bread i3 off to the ; fields to work. At 8 o'clock his wife or j child brings him a stale bread cake and I a bowl of" buttermilk. The work goes j on steadily till noon, when he gets a | good meal off more bread cake and a j little boiled pulse. In the cold weather ' he eats tnis in the field, only coming ' home for it in the hot season. In any | case the work is resumed, and must go : on till evening, when, after feeding his | cattle, he can sit down to a wdll earned : dinner in ihe mud hut. After that he I will go out to smoke and chat in the j "common house'' of the village, or under (the bar tree outside. His womankind , have also been hard at work all day, I grinding corn, cooking, cleaning the 1 house, and spinning. The boys of the j family, as soon as they are old enough, ; are taken to the fields to tend the < attle, ! and in the evening play rounders and j hide-and-seek. The monotony of the daily rouuci is only renevea oy me gayety ! of the periodical fair or tha occasional wedding, or when the season comes for j sugar pressing, and every one walks about with a yard of sugarcane in his , mouth. The villager in ninety-nine cases ! out of 100 is utterly uneducated. Some ! of the headmen can read and write, but 1 the rest are as innocent of letters as a | South Sea islander. Even when thero | is a school in or near the village, it is j di.iicult for the farmer to send his son to learn. Apart from the interruption to ! agricultural duties, it would make the ' boy. his father thinks, discontented with . his lot in life and unfitted for it.? ' Macmillaits Magazine. Withered ll?r Child's N'riat?. I Ever since the birth of her daughter I Nannie, who is now a girl of nine years, | Mrs. John Evans, of Wheeling, W. Ya., has been imbued with the idea that , enemies were watching for an opportunity to steal the child. | For eight years the woman has not allowed her daughter out of her sight, and fnr of tlir> t mp elm .1 firm j clasp on one of A'annie's wrists! j As a result, the girl's wri-.ts have not ' developed with the rest of her body, 1 they are small and withered, beiug little , lur yer than a mail's thumb. The girl has been kept away from playmates of her own age, aud her mother keeps her for hours out on the river bank, where the poor crazed woman watches vainly for the return of her husband who | discouraged and driven to drink by his wife's condition, disappeared two years ago. This is one of the strangest cases of monomania on record, and has attracted ! much attention among local physicians. j ?iViJc York World. The Dynamo. j The dynamo, stripped of its technical details, is a machine for transforming energy. It converts mechanical power | into that phrase or manifestatiou of j energy which we call ele. tricity. Me! chanical power is cheap and the dynamo made electricity cheap. The moment > electricity was reduced in cost the elec! trie motor assumed a commercial value, i It ceased to be a mere laboratory appar: atus aud became a practical machine for j converting electrical energy back into i mechanical power. It is not easy to comprehend the immense importance of this latest evolution of machines and all that it means when we say that we have now joined the steam engine, the dynamo and the motor in one. It is as crcat an improvement as the invention of' the steam engine itself. It is not necessary I here to enter into the study of the electric motor as a machine. The point to consider is the position of the e'ectric motor as a transformer of energy and its i piacc iu the arts of business, transportation aud manufactures. ? Centunj. Making Pine Tar. | Pome one asks for a way to make pine tar in small quantities. The following is the best known way in the South for the purpose: | Erect a platform four feet square, and twelve or fourteen inches above the ground. Bore a three-fourth-iuch auger hole near its center, lit a stick in the hole; now (Over the platform three or four inches deep with stiff clay mortar, finish it off smooth with a gradual depression to the center and withdraw the stick. Fill an iron pot full of rich, pine splinters, place the pot, inverted, on the i platform, and make a fire all over the pot, and as little or as much tar can be run as may be" desired.? Field and Fin| side. mM A DRUM. " \>fl A regiment in motion and the rattle of ft drum, V With a rat, tat, tat! and rat, tatr tuml J Fear is on the face of some, jfi Others stepping with aplomb, And steady is the platter and the clatter of the drum. W Sweeping lines in evolution, fast the wheel* fH ing columns come, . * And a thousand men are stepping to th? H tapping of the drum; There are countenances glum, 9 There are senses dull and numb, JB But a boy is stepping proudly: there is play* V ing on the drum. A The rage and roar of battle, and the rattle of' jfl of a drum, The shrapnel shot are flying with a zip! and a zum! ^ Cruel shells exploding come, fl And the bullets hiss and hum, But the drum still echoes loudly: will the thing be never mum? rB Darkness on the field of battle, where the body seekers come; The storm of death is ended and displayed the struggle's sura. A palid face, a drum; There is blood, and both are dumb; A Btory of a drummer and a story of a drum. ?Chicago Matt. .' ? PITH AND "POINT. J Stake-holders?Beeves. Military tools?Files of soldiers. The prettiest thing in veils?Faces. 5 Children shrink from being washed. Nothing grate about it?The open fireplace. Why is Oolong a certain thing? Because it is a certain tea. There is always plenty of interest , about a rich banker's daughter. Jack Frost is a person of low degree ?below 32 degrees at the highest. A person on shipboard is usually.^ agitated, which is a result of being filled with the motion. It seems correct to speak of a spec- ;< tacled gentleman as a lour-signtea man. ?PitUburg Chronicle. , Like produces like; consequently the tramp's story is generally like himself? it "won't wash."?New York Newt. j Tramp (after ringing door bell)? "Please, ma'm, I've seen better days?" j Housekeeper?"So have I. It's real foggy, to-day." "What a fine hammock th^t would " make for a giant!" exclaimed a Western ~ girl when she saw the Brooklyn Bridge for the first time. It cuts the small boy up when he hear* that his father's old coat is to be cut down, and the sleeves made into a pail of trousers for him. Miss Bristleby?"Don't hurry, I beg of you, Mr. Merritt. It's only eleven." ' Mr. Merritt (who has heard footsteps)? J "I am afraid your father will kick." Jack?".Now, look out, I'm going to kiss you." Sallie (preparing to run)? "Oh! oh! oh! "You wouldn't dare? (Jack wavers)?would you?"?Drake'< Magazine. Mr. Findout?"Sad about Mrs. S , died this morning while trying on ? B new dress." Mrs. Findout?"No, yov don't say so; what was it trimmed with?" ?Munseifs Weekly. He?"So you think the missing link will never be found''" She?"It is im> possible." He?"Why impossible?" Shi ? "Because when found it wiil not bi the missing link."?Time. Photographer (losing patience)?"J tell you once more, don't look so glum: Will you smile?" Kentuckian (getting out of the chair)?"Thanks, stranger, I don't keer if I do."?Time. It we were to choose the most appro priate symbol of the fieeting, the evanescent, the perishable, the decaying, the here-to-day-and-gone-to-morrow, perhaps it would be a pair of boy's boots. Rather ambiguous.?"Doctor, how da you lind your jwtient to-day?" "Oh,Mr. Kansom is no worse." "Do you anticipate a fatal result j" "Mrs. Hansom, mj medicine has never yet failed to do iti work."?Time. mere is one thing connected with your table," said a drummer to the landlord of a Bridgeport hotel, "that is no! surpassed by even the best hotels in New York." "Yes," replied the pleased landlord; "and what is that?" 'The salt, sir.'' Western Lady- "And so your daughtei is going to marry a AVestern man! Is he a farmer, manufacturer, or?" .Pastern lady (haughtily)?"lie is a gentleman of leisure." Western Lady?"Do you mean that he makes money without working?" "Certainly."' "Ah! I see. He's a real estate agent."?Philadelphia Tnh.?1. "Why, Charles, "what's the matter;'' "Matter! Why, I've just met that young puppy Jones that I lent that five dollars to, and he said he'd pull my nose for me if I bothered him for it again! What do you think of that?" 4,I think he'll have his hands full if he does, Charles." And now there is a coolncss between them. ? -j Some Effects of Natural Gas. A Penn avenue physician, in speaking < of some of the eil'ects of heat from natural gas, said: "The use of natural gas has been a general topic of complaint with a large number of my patients. I am not prepared to say that deafness is on the increase, but natural gas as it is now used in dwellings has a decided tendency in that direction. The great trouble is this: The ?as is turned on to such an extent that a very high temperature is obtained and maintained throughout the day and night. This at all times is un Iieaitliv. Tiie neat is entirely wunout moisture, that will naturally dry up the delicate membranes, produce a dry catarrhal disease which very naturally affects the ear and throat, producing both hoarseness and deafness. "With coal it is different. There is a certain amount of moisture given out in the combustion along with the various degrees of heat obtained. Of course, any heat is dry in the abstract, but when combined with steam or any moist substance the effects are very different. A number of our patients declare that the gas has made them deaf. That can only be, as I have said, because the ex cessive heat dries up the memoranes m the head."?Pittsburg Dispatch. The Norwegian Peasant. The Norwegian peasant has a decided aptitude for trading and for travel, and is consequently naturally inclined to knowledge. Education is making steady progress in the country; every one can read and write, and on every farmstead one or more newspapers are regularly taken. The husmxnd (tenants or cotters) even are beginning to subscibe to newspapers. Books they can get from the parish library, or very often they buy them for themselves. The modern lit erature of the country hu penetrated into every valley, aad u now generally bought by the well-to-do among the peasantry.?Harp#1*