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?*J5AID. BT D. t. HEATH, "Ton cannot dla," she 6aid; Twould pierce the hear: of the dread angel, Heath, T? twine hie mystic, Amaranthine wreath About bo dear a head. I cannot have it so. I Sere is a secret chord that doth entwine, closely knitting that dear heart and mine That both at once mast go. I "Tbo6e bright eyes cannot fade; How have 1 felt their witchery; as alone 1 looked on theia, their charm possessed mj own, And I was not afraid." Palestine, Ohio. t _i_ T . liOSl liliict, -OB,THE BITTER AND THE SWEET, i A Tale of Two Continents. i BT MBS. NINA LAWSOV. CHAPTER XXXVn. As Lenora was struggling with her elf to keep from falling, a policeman came round the corner, in sight of Lenora, just in time to see her fall. He hurried to the spot and spoke to her, but received no a iswer. He gently touched her with the t^e of his boot, but she did not move. "EhI Another one, dead drunk; that's the fifth to-day for me. The old fellow will have his hands fall to-morrow." The policeman then rang for the patrol, and Lenora was soon fastened in a dirty, dark cell. She did not re- | cover from her faint for some time, but when 6he did she was lying on a cold, damp floor in a little dark room. "Help, help, help!" rang out from I that dark, cold comer. Bv and by a coarse-looking man came along with a lantern in his hand. "Who calls for help and what's want- 1 ing?" He was then opposite Lenora's cell. 1 "It was I, sir, and please come and r?TT7rnl rlot?1t onlrl ICb iliU UUb MX vmo u n i u* . room." The voice sounded so sweet, so dif- | ferent from what he had been used to hearing, that he went to the door of the cell through curiosity. By the light of the lantern Lenora could now see that she was a prisoner, but when or how she came to be one ( ho oould not tell She got up and ( walked to the door of the cell, where ( the light from the guard's lantern , shone directly on her pale, beautiful face. ' "Please tell me'where I am and why I am here ?" The guard looked at her for a moment only, but could not speak; he j had never seen such beauty or heard | so sweet a voice before, and now that it should be in a prison cell, no woDder , he did not know what to say. "You?you?were put there under ( charge of drunkenness, and?and?are ' to be tried in the morning, miss." - "" "I drunk, sir, that is a mistake; tho last I remember I was walking along , the street, and everything began to go round and roun.l. I was not drank, sir, but I bad nothing to eat since morning, and the wind blew bo cold? and " There she 6toppe.l, for her voice trembled so that she could not speak, and great tears came into her eyes, she leaned up against the iron bars and sobbed as if her heart would break. "Oh, darling, can vou see me now. Don'* feel sorry for I hope to be with yon soon. I wish they had left me out in the cold to die, and then I would low be in heaven." The guard stood at tha door and heard what she said, he believed that 6he was innocent of the charge. "Don't cry so, miss, I can't help your being here, but I'll bring you a blanket and pillow t) lie on to-night, and I'll bring a lamp, too, for it's awfully dark down in this corner; don't mind about it to-night, for I guess you'll get out in the mornin'." He then went away, and soon returned with the little comforts that he thought she ought to have; Lenora took them and thanked him kindly; ehe had not yet noticed that her ring and watch were gone, but wheu she went to see what time it was she mifsed them. How terribly she was frightened, and how her heart ached, 1 for she was afraid they were stolen! By and by the guard came down near her cell, and she called him and told him about her jewels. "Don't be worried, miss; I'll get them back for you in the morning." Lenora could not sleep all night, and when morning came she could scarcely hold up her head; but after he had eaten her breakfast (and the guard saw that she had a pretty good one for a prisoner) she felt much better. At nine o'clock she was taken from the cell to the court-room. Before she left the cell she veiled her face, in the hope that no one could see her. There were quite a number tried before it was time for her case. She had been sitting there perfectly still, not listening to anything that was going on, or thinking of anything but her great trouble. Finally her case was called and she was told to take the stand. Of course she was startled, and did not know what the Judge meant; then they told her it was time for her to be tried, and as she rose to her feet, in some way her hat and veil was knocked from her head and fell to the floor. She did not seem to notice it for sTie was too much frightened to think of anything or realise where 6he was. Tha room was full of all kinds of people, anxious to hear the different cases and see the different prisoners. Lenora's dress was plain, close-fitting black, and seemed to suit her style of beauty; her long golden curls * were *>arelessly tossed about, some lying on her shoulders, while others hung down 1 the back to the waist. As she took the stand a murmur of admiration rang through the room. All were surprised and fascinated with the beautiful little prisoner, and as she turned her great, 6ad, dreamy eyes to the Judge h9 did not know wnat to say. After clearing his throat considerably, he said: "You are charged with drunkenness; are you guilty or not guilty ?" J "1 am not guilty, sir." And every- | body in the court-room believed what i she said. I "Yon were seen reeling on tfce street last night, and finally fell over in the gutter. How do you account for that ?'" j "I was very coid and exhausted from want of tometliing to eat. I was theD : going to a pawn-shop to pawn the only j dres? I tad except the pm I have on, - and I grew ?o weary that I presume I fainted, and then some one found me lying there." "How does it happen that jou were hungry and that you were going to pawn your dress; had you no money?" "I had but tea cents, and could not get work to earn more." Here the Judgedfrew open a drawer in hia desk, and held up Lenora's jewels. "How does it happen that you had these expensive jewels, and so many? Have you no home, no parents?" Tjpnora had eiven the name of Min nie Hall; she could not think of dis? gracing the name that was 90 sacred to her by hearing it in a court-room, and now when the Judge held up those jewels and asked her if she had no home, her lips quivered and the tears came to her eyes. She did not know what to say now, and the sight of the watch made her think of her lo3t love. Finally she answered: "Xo; I have no home, no friends, no parents, and no money; but I had a home once, and then a terrible, dark iav came,, and now that is all I have left," "Where was your home in this city?" She shook her head, for she could not speak The Judge cleared his throat again, as if he was going to say something, when a fine-looking gentleman with a kind, honest face stepped up to the Judge's stand and said something very low; the little prisoner was then released and led from the court-room by this same gentleman. That was certainly a d*v of fate for Lenora, for this .1 " T TT? gentleman was juuwj ei ujut, wnucu; Df Chicago, but who then had a good practice in New York, and still had in his possession the papers that would place ber in the position she inherited at birth. Gertana had painted a small picture Df Lenora, and when she placed the papers in his hands she gave him that picture. As soon as Lenora took the stand he recognized the (ace, only now it was a little older and very pale; he always carried that picture in his j pocket, in the hope that he might find the original some day. The name, Minnie Hall, somewhat confused him at first, bat when he saw the diamond ring that had been Lenora's mother's, and saw the initials, E. E.C., in the inside, he knew that the prisoner was the long-lost heiress! As he left the court-rojm he said to Lrnora: "I want you to oome with me, for I im your friend, and I have something to tell you; besides, I shall ask you many questions. I hope vou will trust me and answer them in full; your jewels svill be safe where they aro for the present." He then drew from his pocket the picture and handed it to the astonished, frightened woman. "You are well acquainted with the lady who painted that; turn it over; ber name is written on the back." Lenora obeyed, and there was plainly ivritten. "Gertana Girindani, friend of the little heire&s, Lenora Churchill." Those great, sad, dreamy eyes rested >n those few lines a lon^ while, and :hen she looked up at the lawyer with >uch a strange light in her eyes that it jrought tears to those of the lawyer. "Come with mo now to my ofHce, :liild, and I will tell you all about :his strange affair, and I want you :o tell me all about yourself; I guess 'rom the sad look on your pa'e little :ace that you have had much trouble." They then took a cab and drove to Law} er Hyde's office. He there told Lenora how he came in possession of :hese papers, and reDeated to her all ihat Gertana had tofd him. There was 10 room for the little love-wife to loubt now that she was no longer i penniless girl, but an heiress of great vealth. Oh, now she then longed for her ost husband, that she might show him ;he proofs that her past life was un? ipotted, and that she had been cruelly tvronged. "Now you know who ycuare; tell ill about yourself, and what you have i>een doing since you were taken from Chicago." How hard it was for her to go over the dark, miserable past, and tell all; ret she did. The lawyer was considerably puzzled about the strange manner in which Lenora and her husband were separated, and he did not then toll linr liin nninirvn of tllA matter. She bad told him" plainly and exactly ev? jrything, just as it was. That night ivas not quite so dark for Lenora, for she occupied the guest's chamber in the lawyer's beautiful house. She remained there three or four weeks, and by that time everything was arranged; she had purchased some new and beautiful dresses, suitable to her station as Lady Churchill, of Churchill Castle. One month from the day she was a prisoner she left New York for England, in company with the lawyer and tiis wife. She insisted so upon their lccompanying her that finally they igrcel, aiid spent a few delightful months at tlie grand old Churchill Castle. How beautiful that old home was, tvith its long, shaded walks and drives md its great airy halls and beautiful parks, and how happy could its mistress be if she had not loved and lost :lia.t love. Lenora's companion in her new homo was an old aunt, and in time they became fondly attached to each other. Lady Churchill became more beautiful ?ach day, and soon became a great Favorite with all the nobility, but there was always a shadow of sorrow about her, and she treated her many admirers in a fripudly but formal manner. It iras well that sho did, for the happiest Hays of lior life were yet to como. CHAPTER XXXYJIL As Baymond Bristol sank to the floor after that terrible interview with Jeanoette, faithful old Tom came up the stairs and savr his master sitting there, while a strange, wild expression rested en the thin, 6ad face. Tom knew that something was wrong and quickly put Ray on his bed and sent for the doctor; the groom met him him on his way to the mansion, and he hastened on as fast as possible. "Ah! Mr. Tom, I thought as much; I knew that it would come, and now you must take the very best care in the world or your master or you will lose him forever. He has been under a severe mental restraint for some time past, and to-day has had some new excitement and has a severe attack of brain fever. Ah! but he is a sick man, Thomas, and I will send in to-night the best nurse I can find in the city. Yon stay by him now, and I will go to Miss Nathan's room and see how she is." He did see how ehe was; the moment he Baw her eyes he knew that medicine would do no ffood. . "Good-evening, Doctor, yon are very j kind to come in to see me, but 1 shall ( need von no more, for I shall leave ! this world to-night." ; "While there is life, my dear, there ia hope." "Yes, in mo3t cases; but in mine thexe is none. I do not care to live any longer." "You should not talk so, child. One so young as you ought to have many years of pleasure yet." "Yes, I ought to have had a bright, happy future, but all is over now. J How is Ray ?" "He is feeling as well as could be I expected under the circumstances." "I hope he will be his old self again soon, and enjoy life as much as possible." The Doctor remained a little longer, and left some powders to make Jeannette's short stay on earth as pleasant as nnssiblfl. He then returned to Ray's room and remained "with him until quite late. How awful still and gloomy was that grand old home the next day, and how dark and lonely seemed the future for poor Bay. The day before Jeannette died the Doctor received a letter from Mrs. Bristol, and her health was no better. He knew that it would kill her if he were then to wire her the state of affairs at her old home, and Jeannette was buried months before the heartbroken mother knew of her death. Ray was very sick for a long, long while, but when he began to get better he grew strong rapidly, and soon as he was able he left that gloomy house and went after his little girl. It was difficult for him to make tha old couple understand at first, and they had grown so attached to the 3weet little thing that they did not want to give her up; but Hay promised that she should go there often and see them, and he would come with her sometimes. Eay remained some trme at the old quiet home in th? lovely valley, and every day he could be seen wandering over the field and through the woods ! with his little girl on hid shoulder. He thought the little white sun-bonnet Aunt Jane had mada for her quite Decoining, and it was always fastened securely over those pale-gold curls whenever she was out in the sun. The anxious husband believed, or rather hoped, that his wife still lived, and as soon as he had been able, after that terrible sick spell, he employed a number of detectives to scour the country in search of her. Time went on, but no news came of her, an:l he had almost given up in despair, yet, ah! how one will hope, even to the last moment; and so did he; thousands of dollars were spent in that search, but to no purpose as yet. During his stay at the old Bice farm he had heard, over and over again, every little thing she had ever done, and when the old couple told him of the papers that belonged to her, and who she was, it almost made him wild when he thought of the manner in which Jeannette had accused her; but now the evil-doer was dead, and he knew that she had suffered for her criine3. [TO DE CONTINUED.] His Serious Mistake. Old Boggs?"Ah! One of the fair sex. Whew! what a size. I ought to make an impression here." Li ) mm ..j!g> | 'A, -l 1[ .. | iiti Cut circumstances changed his wind. ?New York Herald. A Iiohel^iMacOo fiib In. The remains of Baron Yon Strauss, an Austrian nobleman who had been leading the life of a tramp on the Pacifio coast, were recently found in the bottom of a canon in the Moran Mountains by two hunters. One leg was gone and both arms were torn off. Both hunters had seen the unfortunate during his wanderings about the mountains. The hunters buried the remains as best they could and mailed the papers on him to his native town. He left his ltome in Buda Pcsth, Austria, two years ago to make a tour of the world. His father's estate was in process of settlement and his start was made with the first installment of his inheritance. His first stop was in New York, and from there he went to Chicago, where he lost a good deil of money in t real estate speculations. He went to San Francisco last spring and lost more money. When near the end of his purso he wrote home for funds, but his appeal to his relatives only resulted in the discovery that his brother had misappro| priated and sold the family estate and fled to India. The Baron worked his way to Spokane Falls aud then gave himself up to the life of a tramp. Ho ? t tr> _1.a_.-_ 3 maac several enoris 10 ouiaiu auu nmu employment, but he was unfitted for work of any sort, and finally became i\ decided vagabond, living on the charity of farmers and huuters. He was well provided with fashionable and expensive clothing, much of which he used to reward people who fed and housed him. He was last seen climbing the mountain, and in answer to a question as to his destination said he was seeking a lonely place to die in.? Washington- Star. Tailor?I really do hope you will settle this little account to-day, 6ir. I have a heavy bill to pay my cloth merchant. Captain (calmly) ? Con! found your impudence, you go and contract debtt> and come dunning me to pay them. ?iet oat, or 111 send for the po> Uce." GERMAN DUELS. HOW STUDENTS FIGHT ON THE SLIGHTEST PKOVOCATION. Insults Not Necessary to Provoke a Sword Contest?Proof of Courage Not a Setttlement of Difficulties. A/ MONG the ^ many peculiar 4? ities of uer j?H man student Jj m life which call ^^2 ff l\ f?r comments [J J l from the visrcl iting foreigner What I purS pose in trying to give the p&l>y >|y- Cri|aj philosophy of J$ JL the duel is not Vgp^ So much to de*-** ^7* ^en<* cus" torn, which seems not to come up to the standard of civilization, as to explain it. We must distinguish between two kinds of duels fought in German universities, unc | kind, which is not peculiar to students nor to Germans, is a contcst for life and death to settle some serious difficulty on some point of honor. This is common to all nations on the European continent. Even in this country such duels have not yet quite disappeared. In Europe they will not disappear as long as society thinks it beneath the dignity of a gentleman to bring certain offenses into court or considers a man's honor stained by insults for which there is no redress in law. How powerful a hold this code of honor has upon society is shown by the fact that no military officer can keep his epaulettes who declines a duel nr who, under certain circumstances, docs not challenge. To take a single instance, a man like Ferdinand Lassalle (the Socialist leader), who personally was greatly opposed to the duel, felt himself obliged to submit to the custom and died its victim. This duel to the death may have originated in a desire for vengeance; in many cases it was undoubtedly an invocation of a higher power to prove the falseness q? the charge implied in the insult. The modern duelist, though the baser feeling of revenge may often guide his deadly weapon, has another philosophy. It is not the destruction of his opponent which he desires; he tries, by exposing himself to tnc danger or DemgKiuea ana wounded, to prove his coutage, which is the first of manly virtues, and thus to clear his honor. This is the reasoning of society, which will not accept anyone as a gentleman who declines to show his courage in this way. Most duels are fought for this reason , it is the condemnation of socicty which is feared more than the weapon of the opponent. In fact, the weapons commonly chosen, pistols, do not call for much courage. . The danger is over in a moment; there is not much chancc for a display of skill, and experience shows that such duels very seldom have u serious ending. As a rule a duel with pistols is a game of hazard; aiming is not permitted, and one may be sure that oftcu the witne33C3 fail to put bullets in the murderous weapons. So it is generally considered a very harmless affair. The start in the dust of the morning, the pretended secrecy, the romantic spot generally chosen, bring every participant'to the agrceablo delusion that something extremely interesting is going on, and the contestants are led to believo themselves real heroes. But there is hardly more chance for injury in a pistol duel than in a journey orer a well-managed railroad. Besides 1 .1 11113 li&&BlUUUd IHUI UV.WUX ui i.uc fszaivj duel, which is due to the way it is managed, the weapon itself Iapks anothei quality for chivalrous contest: It oilers no possibility for defense. Fencing duels with any weapon are of a more dangerous character and therefore require more courage. Eveu when, as in certain notorious French duels, the first drop of blood drawn, no matter how slight a wound is inflicted, ends the con test, one has to look his enemy in tho face for some time and see the blade, ready to punish him, flash before his ! eyes. Tb<! most serious duel is that fought with heavy curved sabres (Kruminsaebel), which mostly inflicts severe wounds. The (Kiel is generally continued until one of the contestants is unable to go on. Many d:e in conse tZJO ngjj A.STUDENT DUEL quence or are crippled for life. The successful handling of the weapon requires coolocss, presence of mind, skill of hand and an eye both sharp and quick. The last-named weapons or pistols are choscn by German university students in case of a serious duel. The challenged one generally has the privilege of choice. If lie is trained in fenciug he will, as u rule, choose the saber. If his adversary cannot handle the saber lie may either changc to pistols or else time will be given to train himself to fencing. Older students, however, who belong to clubs whose members are pledged to the acceptance of any challenge ("unbedingte satisfaction") are supposed to need no training. But one must not think that suoh duels for life or death are eutered upon lightly. Before the adversaries are allowed to enter the field of honor, a court of honor, composed of representatives of both parties, must have decided that there is sufficient cause to justify a jerious coutcst. To satisfy the law, wliicli requires tiic seconas 10 uo tueir best to prevent the duel, wheu both parties stand ready tlic scconds on the spot advise the duelists to be reconciled. This, however, is a purely formal demand, and a duelist would expose himself to the greatest possible ridicule should he follow this advice. Although many things here said about the serious duel hold good also for the common students' duel, the latter, in Germany, is not regarded as a duel at * * " ' * ?1-J all; inaeeu, it is not caucu su. iu> ?? man name, "measar," of Latin root, J originally means the place measured off for the duelists to stand upon so to keep the right distance. At present most people take it in the sense of a contest in which the contestants measure their relative strength. In fact it is not anything more than a fencing match There leed not be any ill feeling between the idrer3aries. The challenge is brought ibout in different ways. Two bands of mionto frnm different Quarters. where they have had a jolly night. Their leated spirits easily enough bring about i quarrel; a look, a meaningless word, !ailure to give ample room to pass, being luQicient to start one. Instead of engaging t&en and there m a free fight, visit-* ing cards are most politely exchanged and the parties separate quietly to meet again, weapons in hand, on the fencing ground. A student who does not care to wait for such an occasion, meeting another whom he regards as about his equal, -will politely inform him that he desires a fencing contest with him. The custom of causing this contest by inflicting a slight insult, a so-called "touche," is more and more disappearing. There are certain conventional forms which clearly show its purpose, namely, to provoke a challenge; for instance, one student says to another: "You arc a dunce," (sie sind eim dumraer jungc). The one who is addressed in this way hardly thinks of the meaning of these words; he simply understands that he is wanted for a duel. As it has often happened in this method of challenging that the contestants were of unequal skill and strength, the provoked one became the victim of a brutal superiority. To-day most of the students' clubs send a list to their rivals containing the name of such members as are willing to fight. The challenged club then chooses out of its own number such as arc re garded as the equals of the others to meet them. This list may be corrected several times until, in the judgment of both sides, the couples are evenly matched. All necessary provision i? maae to prevent serious consequences. The arms are rapiers, long, straight blades half an inch wide, sharp on both edges for about eleven inches from the point. Only the chest, the face and the skull are open for the blows, every other "WOUNDED. part, especially the eyes and the throat, being protectsd. The contest take3 generally fifteen minutes of. actual fighting if a wound is not sooner inflicted which call3 for the immediate attendance of the surgeon. The latter is always present with his professional utensils ready for U3e. As no pauses are counted the time the contestants staud opposite each other often exceeds an hour. As an educator this duel affords a test of courage. In it the contestant shows his mettle and comes out of it with strengthened self-reliance, which often in later life distinguishes him favorably from those who have never gone through such an experience. The pride that some of these young men take in the scars which deface their countenance hardly deserves the sneir they so often get. It rather shows their chivalrous mind. They ire prouder of those marks of manly character than of effeminate beauty. It is a faff flint. nntcnrrlo nfpoirl nf the arnrn of their fellow-students, overcome their fear of pain and after fighting two or three of these duels wonderfully improve in their character and may be placed afterward in the same rank with their most courageous comrades. For it takes a great amount of self-control for a man, especially when he is bleeding with painful wounds, to stand unflinchingly for over an hour before his antagonist. "Unflinchingly" is used here in its strictest sense, for the slightest sound of pain or movement of the baud or even of the head under a heavy blow will bring disgrace, both on him who bears himself so unmauly and on his friends, for whose colors he fights and who surround him with anxious and tender looks. Besides testing courage, these contests foster self-control, presence of mind, self-reliancc and a feeling of solidarity and so serve as useful discipline for later life. Duels of either kind never gain the character of an exhibition. It is hard for an outsider to gain permission to witness them. Students who boast of their victories in duels are not the most re spected and no one who is not considered a gentleman is allowed to take active part in them. It may seem strange that these duels and many other things that students do are more or less connived at by the authorities. But wc should not forget that in Germany the young maD, until he goes to the university, that is, until he is eighteen or nineteen years of a go, is considered a mere schoolboy, without any freedom at all; after the university life is over the dignity of his officc or profession leaves him far less freedom of movement than men of any other calling. Therefore, the few academical years are the only ones given him in which he may enjoy life to his heart's content.?L'rnest Richard, in WatJiinqton Mar. Lava Journeying Down Vesuvius. The southern side of Vesuvius is now a point of extreme interest to tourists and men of science, not to mention hundreds of Italian people who have a personal 3take in the progress of the mighty -.tnnnwi /\f I r> if .1 Vl ?1 #" tC (l.HCinfT fmm HIGUUi Ui iU'll vuvaw uv..*u0 wm* v? newly opened chasm 500 miters in circumference. It is threatening to descend upon the flourishing vineyards of Bos- [ oorcnli, and the feasibility of diverting the flow into a great ravine is discussed. No one can get nearer the stream than about seventy feet because of the unbearable heat.?Times-Democrat. Mrs. Humphrey Ward has sent $100 as a prize gift to the Association for the Education of Women in Oxford, England. The prize is intended to promote independent research,and competitors are ad\iscd to select a town to the records of which they have convenient access. A lie governess 01 ins uauy iuc King of Spain, is Miss Davenport, an Irishwoman, who has passed most of her life in Spain. The appointment is worth $3500 a year, and after five years' service Miss Davenport will be entitled to a life pension 0/ |2D00 a jear. Transference of Yital Power. A not uncommon cause of loss of vital power is the young sleeping -with the aged. The fact, however explained, has been loog remarked, but it has been most unaccountably overlooked in medical practice. A noted physician saya: "I have, on several occasions, met with the counterpart of the following case; I was, a few years since, consulted about a pale, sickly and thin boy, of about five or six years of age. He appeared to have no specific ailment, but there was a slow and marked decline of flesh and strength and of the energy of all the functions?what his mother very aptly termed a gradual blight. After inquiring into the history of the case, it came out that he had been a robust and plethoric child up to his third year, when his grandmother, a very aged person, took him to sleep with her; that he soon afterward lost his good looks, and he had continued to decline ever since, notwith standing medical treatment. I directed him to sleep apart from his aged grandmother, and prescribed tonics, changes of aiiv etc., etc. The recovery was rapict. It is not with children only that debility is induced by this mode of ab-. stracting vital power. The facts are often well known to the aged themselves, who consider the practice favorable to their longevity, and therefore often illustrate the selfishness which, in some persons, increase their years. Those in good health should never sleep with sickly persons.?New Tori Ledger. aaimon uau?m iu wneeis. A novel mode of taking salmon is by means of wheels. The wheels thus used are very similar in appearance and construction to those of stern wheel river steamers,. and they are the cheapest and most effective methods yet deviied for catching their finny prey. The wheel consists of nine arms attached to an iron shaft, and these arms are strongly netted in groups of threes at their outmost ends. The shaft is surrounded by a cone of wood, whose face or widest part is on the port side. The narrow part of the cone, or its apex, is at the end of a wooden trough. The wheel is pivoted on a gallows frame, and can be raised or lowered out of and into the water at will by means of block and tackle. The papdlewheel method of fishing can only be employed in the rapids of the river. When in use the wheel is submerged about one-third of its diameter, and is slowly revolved by the action of the water. The salmon encounters the wheels in swimming up stream, and are by them lifted out of the water, thrown against these cones and thence slido into the troughs, down which they glide into the receptacles prepared for them. In the height of a good season a welllocated wheel will frequently catch from six to fifteen tons of salmon in twentyfour hours.?i(ail and Expras. Miles of Human Hair. The hair crop annually required to feed the hungry maw of fashion is almost entirely collected in France, Belgium and Germany. English and American women rarely ever sell their hair. Black hair comes from Brittany and the south of France, as well as from Spain and Italy, while light hair is the product of Germany and the northern States of Europe. The fairest-haired inhabitants of the earth are generally to be found north of the forty-eighth parallel of latitude, and the darkest south of the fortyfifth, while the belt between the two is a kind of neutral ground, populated by a brown-haired race. An eminent German has undergone the enormous labor of counting toe numoer or naira m iieuua of four different colors. In a blonde one, he found 140,400; in brown, 109,440; in a black, 202,962; and in a red one, 88,740. What the red and black heads wanted in number of hairs was made up, however, in the greater bulk of the hairs individually. It is to the fineness and multiplicity of hairs that' blonde tresses owe the rich and silk-like character of their flow. A SliOTrer of Honey. Two days ago lire gentlemen of this place drove away in a carriage, taking with them gun3 and cooking utensils. Bringing up about noon near a spring in a dry canyon they kindled a fire for preparing lunch. As soon as frying-pan and coffee-pot began doing duty over the burning fagots, honey, as good and pure as bees hereabout make?in lumps from the size of drops to gobs larger than human fists?rained or fell into fryingpan or coffee-pot, sweetening cooking game and boiling coffee water. The startled nimrods found that as the fire was reduced the honey shower also diminished and ceased entirely with its subsidence. Not having vessels for saving the honey, the 4tfuvored five" discoverers of this remarkable phenomenon decided to revisit the place a few days hence for conveying away in proper vessels the falling manna, of Avhich they expect to secure quite a lot. The witnesses of the shower are reliable, and, if it demanded, will each make affidavit to the above-stated facts. Their names, furnished this office, are withheld by re quest.?San Bernardino (Cal.) Courier. Lumber From One Sugar Pino. A few days ago A. J. Gliddea, of the Lumpkin mill, cut do;vn a gigantic sugar pine. The tree was so huge that particular pains were taken in its measurement. It scaled at the butt seventy-five inches, while there were cut from it ten logs. Two of these were each eighteen feet in length and eight were sixteen feet long. The smallest log was forty inches in diameter. This gave a length of 164 feet to the end of the smallest log and the top was neariy 109 feet longer. The tree scaled a little over 28,000 feet, which shows it to have beeu one of th2 largest sugar pines ever cut ic California. Mr. Glidden handles nbout 2,500,000 feel each year and has been handling logs for twenty years, but this is the largest tree he has ever cut.?OrociUc {Cal.) Mercury. Tlie Battcrnnt. The butternut is one of the least profitable nut-bc-aring trees, as it is less known and the nuts less used than almost any other variety, although it is I still profitable togros-, and frequently I doe3 well where other rut trees will not. | Its wood is valuable for special purposes, | though, the supply being necessarily limited, other woods are new usea wnerc ! this would be if in larger supply. Being I closer in its habits of growth, it does not require so much room as the black walnut, and can be planted about twenty /eet apart each way. ?Ph Uadelphia j Ledger. / TMPERANCK A BOUZ PICTURE. n i_ J 1 , ??? "nlotif fn H> iu, uear uuj, jra, wuiv **? ?? For though we aid not hear Your signal-whistle in the hall, i . Nor footstep on the stair, No need there was for yoa to knock. 'Tis six o'clock, you see, And wo were but awaiting you To "take a cup of tea V Dear me! just hearken to the wind! It is a fearful night! The storm-fleads surely rage without, But all is warm and bright Within our pretty, cozy room. Where round the lamp we three, Mother, and you and I, will sit And "take a cup of tea!" Far see the table ready laid, With all my dainty things; The tiuy spirit-lamp a-light; And how my kettle sings! My own dear little kettle, that At Christmas you gave me, So bright it shines, it seams to say: ^ "Come. 1 take a cup of tea!'" And see the fair home-picture, too, XUJ uuubueu Hurtaco uisesi Laugh, if you like, to hear me say A simile it make*. Each heart bears homo and loved ones Pictured oa it. as you see Them in the little kettle there! Now?"take your cup of teal" ?Mrs. Jane Printer, in the Ledger. THESE WAS TOO MUCH BUM AEOABD. The Boston Herald, tells of a steamer bound for the west coast of Africa that iiad on board fourteen missionaries, four hundred and sixty tons of gunpowder, and something like ten thousand casks of rum. In such delightful way our modern drillzs/cion mixes up the things of tliis life with the hopes of the next life. Tha poor savage, however, will pay his money and take his choice, but it strikes us that there was either too much rum or too little religion on that steamer.?JVeio York Herald. A NATIONAL INEBRIATE ASYLUM. "The project for the establishment ot M JM national inebriate asylum at Indian Springs, ^ seems to be a popular one," said Mr. C. Knight, of the East Tennessee, yesterday. "Editor Barker, of the Southern Star, tells me that he has received letters from leading Woman's Christian Temperance Union representatives endorsing the project heartily, and promising their assistance. The citizens of Indian Springs propose to donate the site for such a hospital. One. man has offered to subscribe $5000 and smaller sums are freely Tho fa/tf 4c all fhof ic f/? 4n_ sun> the establishment of a splendid institution there is the formal endorsement of the National Woman's Christian Temperance Union, and the co operation of the Imdfng temperance workers."?Atlanta Constitution. SUBSTITUTE FOE LIQUOR, A stimulant of some sort should always, have place in the family medicine chest, ob serves a family physician. Many people are prejudiced against all alcoholic stimulants; therefore, some substitute must be fbund. The automatic spirit of ammonia is equally as good in any case as either of these, and U far better in some cases, for it is much quicker in its action. It is also very often efficacious in headache, and in cases of difficult breathing there is no better stimnlanfc Ladies are the most frequent victims at "fainting spells," and to not a few of them alcohol is exceedingly unpleasant. The aromatic spirit of ammonia is an admirable substitute, and really should take precedence in the treatment of such attacks. The dose is one-haif a teaapoonfol, well diluted. It Is always a good plan to put one teaspoouful of the ammonia into a wineglass ful of water, and administer half the quantity in one doee. If in flftoan or twenty minutes further stimulation is needed, whit remains in the cup may be given.?New , York Telegram. TEH REASONS FOR SIGJHNG THE PLZDOZ. '' 1. Sign me J'leuge: u u joui uu?d against strong drink.?It is time for every thoughtful person to enter a tolomn protewr*"" against strong drink, which is every year inflicting such awful havoc among the numail race. Who can be indifferent to the woee it brings on hearts and homes all over oar 2. Sign the Pledge: it will benefit yoar health.?Alcohol is not more uecassary to health than any other chemical or medicinal agent. It excites the heart, hinders digestion, disturbs the liver and stupefies the brain. It givei a momentary glow and stimulus, but you have to pay for them, afterward by an inevitable lessening of vital heart and animal power and mental force. Even in moderate quantities, it acts as an irritant and a poisou 3. Sign the Pledge: it will save your purse.?Sit down and calculate how ranch you spend per day in driuk?not only for Jourself, but also for those whom you treat. t will amount to a respectable sum in th& course of the year. Add to this the money you might earn in tha time you now lose. Add to this all the sums squandered wastefully in the compauy into which habitr'of drinking lead you. And when all is pat together, would it not make a nice nest-egg against a rainy day, or for ilinees and ola age* 4. Sign the Pledge: it will save you from ?Vnn Y\/\ infftnfciori of hfw coming a drunkard; you scorn the thought. But there is a risk of your becoming one, so long as you tamper with the driuk. 5. Sign the Fledge: it will b2 a definite starting-point in your history.?In all efforts after a better life, it is well to have some landmark or time-mark to which to look back and from which to date. 0. Sign the Pledge: it will save you time.? How mauy days in the week do drinkers speud in the saloou, at bars and in social drinking, which is time worse than wasted. 7. Sign the Pledge: it will bo sufficient answer to those who tempt you to drink.? There is no answer that a man cau give so good as this. There ore some men who most hare a reason to give others for doing as they do, and here is a clear, straightforward answer for refusing to drink: "I nave signed the Pledge." 8. Sign the Pledge: it makes a strong obliy^gation.?If a parson simply mako a resolution, ha feels at liberty to withdraw from it if he chooses; but it he makes a solemn promise to which he has put his hand, he cannot think of breaking it. 9. Sign the Pledge: it make.- it easier for others to do the same.?We are creatures of, fashion. We cannot help it; we are made' bo. What one does, others are apt to do. ' 10. Sign the Pledge: it will ba a great help to your neighbor and your weaker brother.: ?Many a man has been saved because some other man gave his example and influence and name to total abstinence. temperance news and notes. If there is no devil, where did the whisky business come from? New York city has 9369 licensed drinkingplaces, received in 1889 a total of $1,412,770. license fe?s, and lias 15,000 dependent children. The Salvation Army, every member of which must be a total a'.istainer, is now the largest temperance organization in thfe tvnrlrl_ A prominent lender in the II. E. Church, at Centreville, Micb., has been expelled from tho church for going on the bond of a saloonkeeper. A canvass of the opinions of the memberselect of ths Vermont Legislature has been made by the Burlington Free Press which shows that th?re is no chance of a repeal of the prohibition law. Madame de Norikoft, a lady of eminence in Russia, in order to testify her active sympathy with the anti-drink movement in Russia, has written a pamphlet iu furtherance of tho temperance cause. The National Temperance League entertaiu?d recently about one hundred members of the British Medical Association at a breakfast in Birmingham, the Lord Bishop of London presiding, with addresses by Dr. Norman Kerr and others. Governor Mi.Kinney, of Virginia, says that it is not at all necessary for a public ^ mau to drink, as ic often assorted. It has ' been his invariable practica to doclina all! ''treats" in his political campaigns, and he bjlieves that instead of losing, he has gained votes by his abstinence. All employes of the New Jersey Central Railroad nave been notified that they most abstain from the use of intoxicating liquors while on or off duty. These notifications to employes of railroad companies are becoming more and more frequent and bid Kkfrj soon to become the general rule. J