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WHIP POOH WILL. When purpling shadows westward creep And stars through crimsom curtains peep, And south winds sing then.-elves to sleep; Prom woodlands heavy with perfume Of spicy bud and April bloom Comes through the tender twilight gloom, Music most mellow, "Whin po' Will?Will, oh! Whip po' Will?Will, oh! Whip po' Will, Whip po' Will Whip po' Will ?Will, oh!" The bosom of the brook is filled With new alarm, the forest thrilled With startled echoes, and most skilled To run a labyrinthine race The fireflies light their lamps to chase The culprit through the darkling space? Mischievous fellow, ' Whip po' Will?W 11, oh! Whip po Will?Will, oh! Whip po' Will. Whip po' Will, Whip po' { Will?Will, oh !" Prom liill to hill the echoes fly The marshj* brakes take up the cry. And where the slumbering waters lie In calm repose, and slyly feeds The snipe among the whispering reeds, The tale of this wild sprite's misdeeds Troubles the billow. "Whip ix)' Will?Will, oh! "Whip po' Will?Will, oh! Whip po' Will, Whip po' Will, Whip po' Will?Will, oh!" And where is he of whom they speak? Is he just playing the hide and seek, Among the thickets up the creek? Or is he resting from his play In some cool grotto, far away, Where lullaby crooning zephyrs stray, Smoothing his pillow, "Whip po' Will?Will, oh! Whip po' Will?Will, oh! Whip po' Will, Whip po' Will, Whip po' ' Will-Will, oh!" ?31. IT. Folsom in Atlanta Constitution. | THE FATAL FLOWER, j "You are a dead man," said the Doc- j tor, looking fixedly at Anatole. Anatole was astonished. He had come to spend the evening with his old friend, Dr. Bardais, the illustrious i savant, whose studies of poisonous plants j had made him famous. It was not his fame, however, which attracted Anatole to the Doctor, but his nobility of heart and almost paternal kindness. And now suddenly, without auy preparation, the ! young man heard this terrific prognostica- j tion from the lips of so great an authority. "Unhappy boy," continued the Doctor, "what have you done?" "Nothing that I know of," stammered Anatole. "Think. Tell me what you have drunk, what you have eaten, what you have inhaled!" This last word was like a ray of light to Anatole. That very morning he had received a letter from a friend who was traveling in India. In this letter he found a flower wmcn tne tourist nau plucked on the banks of the Ganges, an ocld-looking little red flower, whose odor, he remembered, seemed to him to be strangely > purgnant. Anatole looked in his pocketbook and took therefrom the letter and ] the flower which he showed to the! 1 savant. "There is not a doubt!" exclaimed the Doctor. ' 'It is the Pyramenensis Indica! the fatal flower of blood!" 1 "You really think so?" : "Alas! I am certain." "But it is not possible that it should prove fatal to me. I am only twenty-five '1 years old, am strong and in the best of i health." "At what hour did you open this fatal letter?" "At 9 o'clock this morning." ! "Well, to-morrow morning, at the ; 4-1*~ *,,11 i KM Hit* 11UU1, at tliu otlliJU ILJlilUlt, iU JLUli J health, as you say, you will feel a peculiar > ] pain in your heart, and that will end all." ; < "And you know of no remedy, no i means of " "None," said the Doctor. ! ] Then, clasping his head in his hands, | the savant fell into a chair, overcome with i grief. The emotion of his old friend convincd i Anatole that he was indeed doomed. He < departed at once; he was almost insane. ! ] A cold sweat on his forehead, his ideas confused, walking mechanically, Anatole i went forth into the night, unconscious of j what was passing about him. For a long time he walked thus, then, coming to a : bench, he sat down. j i This rest did him good. Up to that j moment he had been like a man who has < suddenly received a severe blow on the j head. At last, however, his mind seemed 1 i to clear, and he began to gather his scat-j: tered ideas. 11 "My situation," he thought, "is like that of a man condemned to death. Such : a person, however, can still hope for ; mercy. But how long have I to live?" j He looked at his watch. "Three o'clock in the morning. It is ' i time to go to bed. "What! I go to bed?1 ! gire to sleep the last six horn's of my life? j No. I have certainly something better ! i than that to do. But what? Why, 11 have my will to make." Not far away was a restaurant which j! was open all night. Thither Anatole went. "Waiter, bring me a pot of coffee and a bottle of ink," lie said, as he seated i himself at a table. He drank a cup of coffee, and, looking at the paper lying on the table before 1 him, said: i 1 "To whom shall I leave my income of | 30,00U francs? I have neither father nor | ] mother. Among the people in whom 11 j am interested there is only one to whom < 1 care to leave my mouey? \icettc. i i Nicette was Anatole's second cousin, a : charming girl of eighteen years, having golden hair and large dark eves. Like j him she was an orphan, and this similar j ; bereavement had lon<? since established a < ? bond of sympathy between them. j His will was quickly drawn up. He ' left everything to Nicette. That done, he drank a second cup of j coffee. ' 1 "Poor Nicette!" he thought, "she was ; very sad the last time I saw her. Her : guardian, who knows nothing beyond the ' wind instruments which he teaches pupils . of the Conservatory to play, did not do i right in promising her- hand to :i brute, a i bully, whom she detests. She detests ; him all the more because she loves some- i one else, if I have able to understand-her reticence and her embarrassment. Who i is this happy mortal? I know not, but. he is certainly worthy of her since she ] \hafl chosen him. Good, sweet, beautiful. 1 loving, Nioette deserves the best of hus- :: \ band#. Ah! if she might have been my i mi*! It is outrageous to force her to i marry a man ehe hates, to ruin her life by j entrusting ?och a treasure to the care of a brat*. But -why m^y not X ba Nicette'e champion? I will be. I will undertake the matter to-morrow morning. But tomorrow will be too late; I must act at once. It is an unseasonable hour to sec people., but a* I shall die in five hours I cannot consider their convenience. It is decided! My life for Nieette!" Auatole left the restaurant and hastened to the house of M. Bouvard, the guardian of Nicettc. It was 4 o'clock in the morning when he rang the bell. Once, twice, three times he rang. At last M. Bouvard himself, astonished, his night-cap on his head, opened the door. "What's the matter?" he asked. "Is there a fire f} "No, my dear M. Bouvard," replied Anatole. "I have come to call on you.*' "At this hour?" "All hours are good in which one can sec you, M. Bouvard. But you are in your night-clothes; you had better return to bed." "That is what I'm going to do." And then, leading Anatole to his chamber, he continued: "But I suppose, since you have aroused me at this hour, that you have something important to say to me." " very important. it is necessary, jh. Bouvard, that you should ?jive up the idea of marrying my cousin Nicettc to M. Capdcnac." "Never! never!" "You must not say never." "My resolution is taken; this marriage shall take place." "It shall not take place." "Well, we shall sec. And now that you have my answer I will not detain you ionger." "You are not very amiable this morning, M. Bouvard. But I am not offended, and as I am persevering I remain." "Stay if you will. I, however, shall imagine that yoa have departed and I shall say no more." Then,turning away, M. Bouvard muttered: ' 'Who ever heard of such a thing! To disturb a peaceable man, rouse him from his sleep to talk about such nonsense!" Suddenly M. Bouvard jumped into bed. A nn+nlf* on) flio Prnfpssnr's trombone. in which lie blew as though a deaf person were trying to play it. The sounds it emitted were infernal. "My precious trombone! the gift of my pupils!" exclaimed the Professor. "Leave that instrument alone." "M. Bouvard," replied Anatolc, "you have imagined that I have departed. I imagine you arc absent, and I amuse myself awaiting your return." Then, after blowing furiously on the trombone, he exclaimed: "Ah, what a beautiful note!" "You will cause my landlord to give me notice to leave the house. He will not let me play on my trombone after midnight." "Ah, the man has no music in his soul!" Again the trombone thundered. "For heaven's sake, stop!" "Do you consent?" "To what?" "To give up the idea of this marriage?" "Very well, then " The trombone finished Anatole's sentence. "31. Capdenac is a terrible fellow. If [ should offer him such an affront he tvould kill me." "Does that fear restrain you?" "Yes." "Then leave the matter to me. Only promise me that if Iobtain 31. Capdenac's icquisccnce my cousin shall be free." "Yes, I promise you she shall be free." "Bravo! I have your word. Now I tvill leave you. But, by the way, what is this Capdenac's address?" "It is 1U0 rue Dcux-Epees." "I will 50 there at once. Goodby." "Ah!" thought 31. Bouvard, "you arc !joing to throw yourself in the lion's den, ind you will get what you deserve." A +/\ flin orlrlvnaa I ^IIUILUIU llclSMCllCU. IV tilt, uumiwoo utv Professor had given him. It was six a'clock when he reached the house. He rang the bell violently. ' Who is there?"' cried a deep voice behind the door. "Let mc in. I have an important communication from M. Bouvard." Anatole heard the rattling of a safety chain which was being removed, and the sound of a key which was turned in three locks successively. "Well, this man is well guarded!" exclaimed Anatole. At last the door was opened, and Anatole found himself in the presence of a man who had fierce curling mustaches and was arrayed like a buccaneer. "You see?always prepared," said M. j Capdenac. "That is my motto." The walls of the reception room were ; covered with panoplies. In the little room to which Capdenac led his visitor one saw nothing but arms?yataghans, poisoned arrows, sabres, swords, pistols iind blunderbusses. It was a veritable arsenal. It was enough to strike terror to the soul of a timid person. nn.i. ill ai A.L A maIaIa tiTT1>ni. "*131111. lllUULJIlt XWUllUll-* Mil*!!* docs it matter? I shall die "within two | hours in any case." "Monsieur," said Capdenac, "what is the object of " "Monsieur," replied Anatolc, interrupting him, "you wish to marry Mile. Xicette?" "Yes, Monsieur." "Monsieur, you shall not many her." "Ah, blood! and who will prevent me?" "I." Capdenac gazed at Anatolc who was not very large, but who looked very determined. "Ah, young man," he said at last, "you have the good fortune to find me in a jood humor. Profit by it. Save yourself while there is yet time. "Were I not in au amiable mood I would not answer ' for your days." "And I do not answer for yours." "A defiance! to me! Capdenac! Do you know that I have fouirht twenty duels, that T have killed live of my adversaries and wounded the other fifteen? Go, young man, go. I have pity for your i mntii Tlifrc still linif im " liI see," replied Anatole, "by your ' manner and your surroundings that you ! ire ail adversary worthy of me, and that I increases my desire to measure swords i with so redoubtable a man. Come! Shall 1 we take these two swords or those over i the mantel? or these two battle-axes? or j ravalry sabres? or do you prefer these ' yataghans? Are you undecided? what j do you say?"' I ' I am thinking of your mother and of i thr sorrow that awaits her." ' I have no mother. But perhaps you prefer carbines or revolvers?" "Young man, do not handle those fire- j irm?." "Are^you afraid? you tremble!" ' Tremble! I? it is the cold." 'j^hen you must fight, or renounce the ! hand of Nicctte." "I admire your bravery. The brave i : - ' . . understand each other. Sliall I tell you something?" "Speak." "For some time I myself have thought of breaking this engagement; but I did not know how to go about it. I would, therefore, willingly consent to your request, but you understand thnt it will not do for me, Capdenac, to seem to yield to your threats, you know, you have made threats." "I withdraw them." "Well, then, the matter is settled." "Will you write and sign a paper stating that you relinquish the hand of Nicettc?" ' 'I have so much sympathy with you that I cannot refuse." Having obtained this precious paper, Auatole hastened to the house of M. Bouvard. He reached the door about 8 o'clock and rang the bell. "Who's there?" "Anatole." "Go home and go to bed," cried the Professor, roughly. "I have Capdenac's relinquishment of Nicette's hand. Open the door, or I'll break it in." M. Bournrd opened the door. Anatole gave him the paper, and then went to the door of Nicette's chamber and cried: "Cousin, get .up; dress yourself and come here." A few moments afterward Nicette, fresh as a rose, entered the little reception room. "What's the matter?" she said. "The matter is," cried M. Bouvard, "that your cousin is mad." "Mad be it!" said Anatole; "but Nicette will sec that there is method in my madness. This night, my dear little cousin, I have accomplished two things: M. Capdenae renounces your hand, and your guardian consents that you shall marry the man you love." "My guardian, arc you indeed willing that I should marry Anatole?" "Ah!'' exclaimed Anatole. "It is you, my cousin, whom I love." At that moment Anatole felt his heart beat violently, WJiat caused it? >vas it the pleasure which Niccttcs uulioped-for avowal gave him? Was it the pain foretold by the Doctor? "Was it death? "Unfortunate mail that I am!" cried poor Anatole. "She loved me. I see my happiness before me, and I am going to die without attaining it." Then, grasping the hands of Nicette, lie told her all; lie told her about the letter he had received, the flower whose odor he had inhaled, the warning of his old friend, his will, the subsequent events and his success in obtaining her freedom. "And now," he added, "I am going to die!" "That is impossible," exclaimed Nicette. "The Doctor is deceived. Who is he?" "A man who is npver deceived. Ni cette; he is Dr. Bardais." "Bardais! Bardais!" cried Bouvard, laughing. "Listen to this paragraph in the morning newspaper: 'The savant, Dr. Bardais, has become suddenly insane. His insanity has taken a scientific turn. It is well known that the Doctor has devoted himself specially to the study of poisonous plants. He now believes all persons whom he meets have been poisoned, and he persuades them of the fact. He was taken at midnight to an insane asylum." "Nicctte!" "Anatole!" The lovers were clasped in each other's arms.?Epoch. Samoan Gunboats. Samoan jrunboats are built in the most primitive style. Two long war canoes are lashed firmly together, side by side, and cross pieces of heavy timber are placed over the top as a foundation for the "cabin," which is situated amidships. This cabin also serves as a magazine, storeroom, and all of the other useful compartments in a ship combined. Its slanting roof is covered with mats and grass, and the whole structure is of the most inflammabje nature. These boats are built for Mataafa by the Monono people?the nautical tribe of the Samoans. They are armed with a superannuated cannon, which is liable to be as disastrous in its ellocts when discharged, upon the gunners who handle it, as upon the enemy against whom it is directed. The small arms of the natives are, however, good, being generally of recent design and manufacture. Most Samoans are good marksmen, as was illustrated in their recent collision with the Germans. The gunboats have been seldom brought into action during the war. While Tamasese was besieged so closely in his fr>vf nn/1 oil ofiVivtc mmln tr? rJis]r>ilcrf> him seemed abortive, Mataafa assailed him from the water with a fleet of more than a hundred war canoes and four of these "guuboats." Some of them were passed fully two miles to seaward of the fort, harmlessly blazing away, their shots falling about midway the desired distance, while the fort kept up a desultory answering fire with about the same effect. For war purposes they arc, of course, almost useless, unless in close contact with the enemy when the small arms could be made effective.?TVasliin<jton Slur. Butterflies Protected by Ants. In the last number of the jouanal of the Bombay Natural History Society, Mr. Lionel de Niceville describes the manner in which the larva? of a species of butterfly are cultivated and protected by the large, common black ants of Indian gardens and houses. As a rule, ants are the most deadly and inveterate enemies of butterflies and ruthlessly destroy and cat them whenever they get a chance, but in the present case the larvae exude a sweet liquid of some sort, of which the ants are inordinately fond, and which they obtain by stroking the larva; gently with their attenmc. ilencc the great carc ! which is taken of them. The larva) feed ; on a small thorny bush of the jungle, and at the foot of this the ants construct a j temporary nest. About the middle of June, iust before i the rains sot in, great activity is observa- j ble on the tree. The ants are busy all i day running along the branches awl leaves , in search of tiie larwe, and guiding and j driving them down the stem of the tree i toward the nest. Each prisoner is guarded ! until he is got safety into his place, when j he falls into a doze and undergoes his i transformation into a pupa:. If the loose ' earth at the foot of the tree is scraped away hundreds of larval and pupte in all , stages of development, arranged in a broad, even band all round the trunk, ! will be seen. "When the butterfly is ready to emerge, in about a week, it is tenderly j assisted to disengage itself from its shell, ! and, should it be strong and healthy, is \ left undisturbed to spread its wings and j fly away. For some time after they have j gained strength they remain hovering! nvarthair old home TiatAutaliaL I "FIRST IN PEACE." WASHINGTON'S INAUGURATION AT NEW YORK IN 1789. A Vivid. Description of the Installation Ceremonies?The Procession?Taking the Oath? Washington's Dress. The first inauguration of George Washington as President of the United States before the first Congress under the new Government took place in New York. A writer in the Century Magazine gives a vivid account of the ceremonies, from which we make the following extracts: The long-expectcd day was now at hand. The copestone was about to be placed on the structure, the foundations of which had been laid thirteen years before. It was the 30th of April, 1789, and the first President of the United States was to take the oath of fidelity to the new Constitution. Crowds were pouring into New York. "For nearly a fort night," wrote Griswoid, "rne taverns ana boarding houses in the city had been thronged with visitors, and now every private house was tilled with guests, from all parts of the Union, assembled to witness the imposing ceremouial which was to complete the organization of the Government." With a discharge of artillary at sunrise from old Fort George near Bowling Green began the ceremonies of the day. At nine the bells of the churches rang for half an hour, and the congregations gathered in their respective places of worship "to implore the blessings of heaven upon their new Government, its favor and protection to the President, and success and acceptance to his Administration." The military were meanwhile preparing to parade,and at twelve o'clock marched before the President's house on Cherry street. The full procession left the Presidential mansion at half-past twelve o'clock and proceeded to Federal Wall Onppn strr>fit. Great Dock and """ "6 ' Broad street. Colonel Morgan Lewis, as Grand Marshal, attended by Majors Van Home and Jacob Morton, as aides-decamp, led tlie way. Then followed the troop of horse; the artillery; the two companies of grenadiers; a company of light infantry and the battalion men; a company in the full uniform of Scotch Highlanders with the national music of the bagpipe; the Sheriff, Robert Boyd, on horseback; the Senate committee; the President in a state coach, drawn by four horses, and attended by the assistants and civil officers; Colonel Humphreys and Tobias Lear, in the President's own carriage; the committee of the House; Mr. Jay, General Knox, Chancellor Livingston; his Excellency the Count dc Moustier, and his Excellency Don Diegode Gardoqui, the French and Spanish Ambassadors; other gentlemen of distinction, and a multitude of citizens. The two companies of grenadiers attracted much attention. One, composed of the tallest young men in the city, were dressed "in blue with red facings and gold-laced ornaments, cocked hats with white feathers, with waistcoats and breeches and white gaiters, or spatterdashes, close but" " - * A. At. ~ 1 toneu iroin me snoc 10 mo hu covering the shoe-buckle. The second, or German company, wore blue coats with yellow waistcoats and breeches, black gaiters similar to those already described, and towering caps, cone shaped and fuced with black bear skin." "When the military, which amounted to "not more than five hundred men," and whose "appearance was quite pretty," arrived within two hundred yards of Federal Hall, at 1 o'clock, they were drawn up on each side, and Washington and the assistants and the gentlemen especially invited passed through the lines and proceeded to the Senate Chamber of the "Federal State House." The building had been crowded since 10 o'clock, and when the Senate met at half-past eleven all was excitement. The minutest details were considered matters of gravest moment. At last the lower House entered the Senate Chamber, and there the two houses sat for an hour and ten minutes. The delay was owing to the Senate committee, "Lee, Izard and Dalton, who," I said Senator Maclay, 1 'had staid with us j until the Sneaker came in, instead of go-1 ing to attend the President." At last the joint committee of the two houses, preceded by their Chairman, introduced Washington, who advanced between the Senators and Representatives, bowing to each, lie was at once conducted to the chair by John Adams. On the right were the Vice-President and the Senate, and on "Washington's left the Speaker and the House of Representatives. The Vicc-President then said that "the Senate and House of Representatives of the United States were ready to attend him to take the oath required by the Constitution, and that it would be administered by the Chancellor of the State of New York." The President replied that he was ready to proceed, aud was immediately conducted to the open gallery in front of the Senate Chamber, which looked out upon Broad street. Washington was dressed in a full suit of dark brown cloth manufactured in Hartford, with metal buttons with an eagle on tnera, ana witu a sicei-juuuu dress sword, white silk stockings and plain silver shoe-buckles. His hair was dressed and powdered in the fashion of the day, and worn in a bag and solitaire." Chancellor Robert R. Livingston, one of the committee of five to draft the Declaration of Independence, thirteen years before, was dressed in a full suit of black cloth and wore the robe of office. Just j before the oath was to be administered it I was discovered that no Rible was in Federal Hall. Luckily Livingston, a Grand Master of Free Masons, knew that there was one at St. John's Lodge in the City Assembly Rooms near by, and a messenger was dispatched to borrow the Bible, which is to-day the property of j C?- Tnd.rn \'n 1 +1ir> tlliril olVlfSt I U(>. tJ KJ1111 O *WI Masonic Loclije in the United States. Secretary Otis of the Senate held before him a red velvet cushion, upon : which rested the open Bible of St. John's I Lodge. "You do solemnly swear," said ! Livingston, "that you will faithfully execute the ollice of President of the ! United States, and will, to the best of: your ability, preserve, protect, and dc- ; fend the Constitution of the United ' States." "I do solemnly swear," replied ; Washington, "that I will faithfully exc- j cutc the office of President of the United i States, and will, to the best of my ability, preserve, protect, and defend the Constitution of the United States." He then bowed his head and kissed the sacred Book, and with the deepest feeling uttered the words: "So help me God!" The Chancellor then proclaimed, "Long live George Washington, President of , the United States!" The instant dis charge of thirteen cannon followed, and with loud repeated shouts and huzzas the people cried: "God bless our "Washington; and long live our beloved President!" The President bowed to the people, and the air again rang with acclamations. Washington, followed by the company at the balcony, now returned to the Senate Chamber, v/here he took his seat and the Senators and Representatives their seats. When Washington arose to speak all stood and listened "with eager and marked attention." After delivering his address, the President, accompanied by the Vice-President, the Speaker, the two houses of Congress, and all who attended the inauguration ceremony, proceeded on foot to St. Paul's Church. The same order was preserved as in the procession from the President's house to Federal Hall. The military "made a good figure" as they lined the street near the church. The services in the church were conducted by the Chap lain of the Senate, the lit. licv. Dr. Samuel Provoost, Bishop of the Episcopal Church of New York. After prayers had been read and tho "Te Deum"sung, "Washington entered the state coach and was escorted home. Largest Clock in America. The large clock which will grace the square tower of the San Francisco Chronicle building has been definitely decided upon. The dials, four in number, will be the largest in the United States, the diamater j of each being 16 feet. Each dial will have the outer portion of copper, and the central portion (11:6 in diameter) of ground glass. By day the timo will be read on the the copper face and by night on the glass one. The copper face will carry gilded numerals of cast brass, cach 2 feet in length, and the hands, massive and ornate in design, will be so made as to indicate the time on either portion of the dials, as required. The ground glas3 portion of the dial will be in seven parts, six segments of a ring, whose large diameter is 11-J- feet, and a circular disk within the six segments 7 feet 3 inches in diameter. On this face also the numerals will be of cast! brass; but, instead of being gilded, will j be black, so as to show clearly at night j with the strong electric light behind them. The segments and the center plate will be too lai-jre to brine: across the Con " o ~ ?-? tinent on the cars, and so will have to be shipped around the Horn, while the copper dial will be made in San Francisco. The pendulum of this gigantic clock will be 14 feet long, and the weight or "bob" is to weigh 500 pounds. The hands will be set on the outside by simply moving with a light crank the fingers on a small dial inside the tower. Motive jiower will be imparted to the mechanism by a weight of about 600 pounds, and the contractors guarantee that the time shall not vary ten seconds in a month. By an automatic contrivance the light in the tower will be turned on at night and oil in the day. The clock thus promises to be one of the most remarkable ones in the country, and an addition to the loftiest and strongest building on the Pacific coast. The height of the tower from the sidewalk will be 203 feet. Paint the Shingles. The Tiniberman very wisely remarks that it has always seemed singular that in the use of paint to preserve wood exposed to the weather, the fact that a shingle roof was omitted from the catalogue was invariably the rule. This idea or oversight was one of those things in which custom becomes habit, and because everyone else did so, all the rest followed suit. It is safe to presume that the custom of leaving the shingle roof unpainted originated in its angular form, being less exposed to the after effects of rain or snow. A little thought will show the folly of such a conclusion when re nnfiiffl f\f O cVnnoO/3 , lUUIlllJCI 111:5 lliU II till Jiiuuiv/ VI (A | and the slight fastening it has. If paint j would be useful on any weather-exposed i surface, it should certainly be on a roof. | This fact goes without telling, and in the j present style of suburban residences the j roof receives its share of paint along with | the rest of the building, thus at once combining tl>a useful with the beautiful, j It is certainly singular that painting of j roofs has not always prevailed, and it' adds much to the finished character of , the building to see the roof painted. A Unique Scrap Book. A gentleman well known in Atlanta aa! the general agent of one of the largest, soap manufactories in the country, has, ; at his home on the Hudson, a scrap book which will doubtless prove an interesting heirloom in his family. By this book he can tell exactly where he was on any day in the past fifteen years. His method seems to be new?at least it is unique. Every day in the year he writes home, j After reading the letter, his wife pre-1 serves the envelope, which, of course, j contains the postoftice stamp upon its I face. This half of the envelope is care- | fully posted in its place in the book, and j stands as a record of the sender's where- j abouts upon the day indicated by the post- j mark. As the owner of the book has '< been over the greater part of the world, I his book is a decided curiosity.?Atlanta Constitution. The Organ of Cremation. There is a paper published in Germany called Die Flamme, and which is devoted to the advocaoy of cremation. Unwittingly, perhaps, a recent issue contains the strongest sort of argument against that method of disposing of the dead. It cnnnic. a "Pri-ifixcrn- T"nrr.irclli of Per rara, was taken ill and apparently died. He was laid out, the funeral service held, and the coffin was being put in the grave, when one of the workmen heard a groan. Examination showed the supposed dead man to be alive, and That he had been conscious all the time, though unable to move or express himself. Had cremation been practiced a horrible death must have resulted.?San Francimco Chronicle. The Language's Mint. The rapidity with which words are coined by the English-speaking race is wonderful, and to England some of the most remarkable instances arc due. The verb "to burke'' (to rille graves of corpses) and its origin arc well known, and it has been in use for many years. The word "boycott'' is of too recent origin to need more than passing nolicc. But perhaps the most remarkable instance yet afforded is now seen in the English papers, which have adopted the verb "to whitechapel." The new word certainly has the merit of being much less suggestive and objectionable than the expression which it represents?San Francisco Chronicle. Half a million dollars' worth of canned goods were shipped from this country to tropical regions last year. *... --:3a ' ... - - : -" " ;. . . *r*.: -7 . WOMAN'S WORLlX PLEASANT LITERATURE FOR FEMININE READERS. ORNAMENTAL CANARY BTRD3. Canary birds are beginning to form an import-ant item in decorations, especially for children's parties. The ornamental cages of brass or gilded wood are adorned with ribbons and placed among ferns, evergreens and flowers artistically disposed. These birds are said to sing much better amid the gayety of fashionable surroundings than in the quiet of the shops whence they are taken.?Times-Lcmocrat MRS. CLEVELAND IN GOTHAM. Mrs. Cleveland is having a gayer time in New York than she had in Washington. There is not a day that is not crowded with engagements. Mr. Cleveland found the social excitements more tiring than his official work, and he had to break away from them for a while. Jirs. uieveiauu, wno xias ncr mumer, uju her husband's married sister -with her, is enjoying her freedom from public life. That she can go about without offending state etiquette is a great satisfaction to her. She quite enjoys making calls, which she was not allowed to do as a President's wife. So that she will not overstep the bounds of time in her calls, she has a tiny watch inserted in a corner of her card case, which she can consult without being observed. ?Bazar. ROMANCE OP A REPUTED WITCH. The death of Mrs. Morris H. Floyd is reported from Claredon County, S. C. About sixty years ago she was engaged to be married to Mr. Floyd, but the match was opposed by her parents, who about this time moved from South Carolina to Alabama, taking her with them. Soon after reaching her new home she started on foot to go back to her lover. "While on her way through a then wilderness she was captured by the Cherokee Indians, and was held a prisoner until released by United States troops six months later. She continued her journey on foot, and in a year after leaving Alabama she reached her old home and married her lover. She learned from the Indians their art of compounding herbs, and practised it among licr neignoors. one was an oracle on dreams, charms and witchcraft.?New York Sun. DEATII OP AN ECCENTRIC OLD LADY. Rosanna McCormack, aged sixty-five, an eccentric character who had resided by herself near Jordans, "White Sulphur Springs, Va., for many years, and who was well known by thousands of people from the North and South who have been patrons of the springs, was found dead at home recently lying on fertilizer sacks and sheep skins. She had a number of feather beds, but never slept on them. She always wore long, heavy boots, with pistols in them for protection, rarely ever taking them off, and died in her boots. At the coroner's inquest a verdict of died of pneumonia was rendered. She was a great reader, very intelligent, a fine historian, and owner of two farms and a number of cattle and sheep, which she amassed by her industry. She told the fortunes of many a fair maiden and old-time lady in the United States. She was a great pedestrian, always walking to the city clad in the roughest material, accompanied by her faithful dog and f* -A--ff A U carrying a long siau. .a. uuuiuw ui handsome uncut silk dress patterns were found among her effects. She never took medicine and would not have a physician in her last illness. A VERT PARTICULAR QUEEN*. Queen Victoria is very particular indeed in small matters of detail in dress. This was realized recently by a Duchess who wore gloves of a deep shade of tan to match her dress and was obliged to send from the palace itself for a white pair. Of the two bodices "approved" the demi-toilet is the prettier. That seen by the Queen is of silvery-gray poplin, with a folded fichu of lace and open heart-shaped. The other is of bronzegreen velvet, the lace ruffles being a pretty cream color. The vest, or stomacher, is of gathered cream colored satin, studded with pearls.- Minor matters, such as trimming, are subject to alteration. It is simply the regulations that the collar is high at the back, and yet close in, and not very high, like the Medici collar; the sleeves also close and to the elbow, and the opening in front very small, that are fixed and unalterable. It is, therefore, now impossible to wear a bodice which covers a ncck and shoul- : ders not quite as shapely as might be,and yet show a pair of faultless arms. It is a case of all or none, and the mere matter , of bccomingness is no more considered than in the uniform of a regiment. girls' tool cnESTS. Parents do not object to see saw and . hammer, gimlet and screwdriver in their sons' hands at a very tender age. They look upon tools as a boy's birthright. . Vint n li'H-ln rn'rl is hurriedlv told in a horrified tone to "put them down," to "not touch," that she will cut herself or pound her lingers, and "get hurt" generally. But the time is not far of! when there 1 will be a room in the house set apart for j( the work-bench, and that bench and its I tools will be as free to the daughters as j1 to the sons. In their fashionable brass- I hammering and wood-carving the girls ? have "got a taste" of it. We may expect to yet see the carpenter come to give < lessons as regularly as the music teacher, j "Why not? That eight children out of i ten would like it better there is no doubt. ^ A dozen years hence certain branches I t of many trades will be largely occupied I * by women. "We shall see young women I ( at study and work in architects' offices, j iliiclrrninnr.rftnms miv- I ill UIC ?uu \ivc.jjui..n , ...... | ing paints ami stains and finishes and fresco washes. AVe shall sec the student at the Harvard Annex emerge from her * long companionship with the "higher * mathematics" with the "plans and eleva- * tions'' of a house in one hand and a "bill * of lumber" in the other as "applied j 1 mathematics." At present the training, * in geometry say, is so unapplied that the J' "sweet girl graduate" lays the tea table I i with the cloth awry and the plates at all J( angles and distances, and is serenely uu-! 1 aware that she has hung her water-color ; r drawing crooked until some distressed ' occupant of the room points it out. 1 The modern female hand and eye are :1 so far untrained that not one young 1 woman in five can take shears and cut ;1 straight across a breadth of goods unless j j" she fold and crease the cloth or "slowly i i cuts by a thread." j f For inyseif I have saved many a dollai Ie -r " - i rfirst and last by being "handy tools."?Helen M. Window. IMMUNITY GRANTED SHOPLIFTERS. -Wk Boston storekeepers have come to theHB conclusion that it does not pay them to 1 interfere with the shoplifting industry; , J The other day a customer who was pur- i lj chasing some dry goods in one of the big j local bazars called the attention of the y floor-walker to a well dressed female en- \ gaged in pawing over the merchandise on r a counter near by. Said the lady in an undertone: "I saw that woman steal a lot of those pretty handkerchiefs just now j and hide them under her cloak." f The floorwalker simply shrugged his shoulders. "3Iadam," he replied: "We | lose 610,000 by such thefts every year; _ ] but we cannot afford to do anything abouT""^ it, save in unusual cases. It would in- . .1 jure our business." Then he turned away. Not long ago a young married woman, rich and of acknowledged position in society here, was strolling through one of the great Boston shops, when a handsome "1~ 1 i.L.1 1. ? /I 1 *Ar*r> ?3, iauu auaui tuui nuu uuu^ uvcr iuc cugc of a counter chanced to catch upon abut- ^ ton of her dress. "Without observing it she went along, and was about leaving the establishment when a detective rushed up and arrested her for theft. Almost before she had realized what had happened, she _ was bundled into a cab and driven to the police station. There her identity was made known, and the charge against her being quickly shown to be baseless, there was nothing to do but release her. The detcctive and two other men who had comc with her from the store were so alarmed, however, lest they should be made to suffer for their error, that they, refused to let their frightened and well- . nigh hysterical victim go until she had signed a paper promising not to prosecute them or the firm. She acquiesced, and no legal redress was ever sought. But fj. the story was told abroad, and now this -x. huge bazar is undergoing what promises to be a permanent boycott by people of fashion, who have withdrawn their cus-: in nf o rirrol I LUlXL I1UU1 11/ tUUUU ALL AC* T VTA. VI U *?. T ?M conccrn. The loss in consequence must be something fabulous. It was a lesson to other shopkeepers here, and now they say that they prefer to put up with the stealing rather than rim the risk of losing their trade by a mistake.?Picayune. /V > FASHION NOTES. Opals are very fashionable gems. Stripes are worn again this spring. Hair-dressing grows more elaborate. . Rose in different shades is a favorite color. ' ; -. Armure silk is now used for wedding gowns. Rubies are more than ever in the fashion. In Paris the ladies have a whim for natural flowers. Ribbon embroideries are a feature of the new evening gowns. In the challis of the present season one recognizes old-time wool muslin. Parasols covered with India silk will 3 be used the coming summer with costumes of the same material. A new tint of crushed strawberry promises to be a great favorite. It is _, softer in tone than the original shades. With Empire and Directoire gowns ' Marie Antoinette fichus of white or , colored linen will be worn this summer.' Easy-fittiDg basques with waistcoats are the favorite corsages for summer r* gowns with ladies who have full figures. Summer costumes of washing silk or washing Scotch flannel are made with sailor blouses or spencer waists and plaited skirts. ^ What are known as bag seams or ^ "English fells," and which cover all raw J edges, are the best finish for cotton dress^^ "With elegant dress toilets the coiffure m is arranged to correspond with the 1 Empire, Grecian, or other style of dress j adopted. I The newest imported lingerie is sim- I ply made, but embroidered with fancy. J stitches in colored thread that does not wash out. Low shoes are laccd with silk ribboi^^B an inch wide. The laces are tied at th^^H top in long loops and ends which fal^^B over the ankle. , The newest tints in millinery are Eng-^H lish rose, magnolia, anemone pinkj^B wisteria, lily-leaf green, oak heart, sumM^J mer sky and opal. ' The most stylish handkerchiefs are 1 finished with a deep hem, above which fl is a dainty device in drawn work or an AM insertion of real lace. Borders and brocades are the features/ of the newest woolens. In most of then? | the flower pattern is thrown up from a ?J heavily twilled surface. There have been many new place^Hj found for watches lately, but under thJ^H rosette of a slipper, it will be grantecfy^B is the one most unique. The four post bedsteads which are now in fashion have some of them a shelf which runs across between the headposts for bottles or haud glasses. Three rows of ribbon or lace insertion of a contrasting color, set above a two-inch hem, is a favorite finish for -< irapcries of cither silk or wool. Mixed stuffs of silk and wool look and ivear well, but those of cotton will be a :orment and disappointment to who so spends time and money upon them. Fashion reigns even during the Lenten season, the popular church costumes beng of some gray Henrietta, cashmere or ?nf Vilor.1- mmr/i ilUIiail , ? X l II ^(UIIUUIVO Vi MV4.VI T_ Black ribbon sashes will be worn with 9 vash dresses of pale buff, deep yellow I jreen, old rose and pink, even when the :ame are trimmed with wliite embroid- H tries. h Oldest Pieces of Wrought Iron. $ The oldest pieccs of wrought iron now cnown are probably the sickle blade ound by Belzoni under the base of a j phinx in Karnac, near Thebes; the blade bund by Colonel Yyse, imbedded in the nasoury of the great pyramids; the porion of a crosscut saw exhumed at Nimod by Mr. Layard?all of which are now n the British Museum. A wrought bar if Damascus steel was presented by King iorus to Alexander the Great, and the nzor steel of China for many centuries las surpassed all European steel in temicr and durability of edge. The Hindoos ippear to have made wrought iron directy from the ore, without passiug it hrough the furnace, from time immemoial, and elaborately wrought masses of I rou are still found in India, which .date I rom the early centuries of th? Christian. I