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????????^??1 r* Q&OWIHQ OLD. BT C. LOWATEK. [ I'm growing old; for sixty years I I've struggled through mortal life; t I've ?een some joy, X'vo Been some strife? '? * ( 1 VO UOU UYU Wuuiuoaa *-.14VI Of n?*v. But, all is all, for all my fears, I've Been more happiness than tears; And now, when I am 6ixty years, I love the memories of my life. YonH nover seo the days, my lad, Ae bright as those when I was young; Then every little bird that sung 6eemed joyful that the earth was young. In its old days tho earth seems sad; It has not now the life it had In those gay days long passed, my ladThose happy days when I was young. . The life we led was wild and free, 11)e men were bold, the girls were sweet; ( Not Buch as now you often meet In theaters or on the street. Why, sometimes now, it seems to f From what I hear and what I see, i Tie the girls who are bold and free, And men, poor things, try to be sweet. I The rod, my lad, was in the scbopl ] la days when I first learned to spell. | We bad to learn our lessons well; The difference you soon could telL They praised the qnick and whipped the fool 1 And ruled us with an iron rule; ' They trained men in the olden school ] Whose names a nation now can spell. j They had a noble hardihood To fight against the wilderness: ] They worked and prayed to God to Mess < Their toil with peace and plentinesB. , >i?ro JianrH f\h?4r nmvflrk and stood I ' "With them in the leafy wood. For He has blessed their hardihood ] And labor is the wilderness, , I'm growing old; for sixty years ' I've smiled at pain and laughed with jo;; Bnt though my. head is white, my boy, The hand of age cannot destroy . The record of the hopes, the fears, The happiness, tho smiles, the tears Which lnaveknown for sixty years, ! And whote remembrance is my joy. The Piccadilly Puzzle. I ] * i THE STORY OF A TERRIBLE EPISODE } Iff THE LIFE OF AN ENGLISH t A06LEMM. , i i 1 By F. W. HUMB. 1 e CHAPTER I. , A FOGGY NIGHT. / r _yT\ T two' o'clock in the i tri^CVcTiiS morning dnring the i month?f An gust sounds ? St Otf,\ of music con Id be heard . \ proceeding from a bril- * g) A liantly lighted house ? in Park lane, where a t waB bein8 8*ven ^7 d WJ? the Countess of Ker_J stoke. True, the sea- c ^~-s/?, eon was long since over, t ^ Y27 and though the greater 0 J Part ?' London society 0 migrated swallowI (?? i * like to the Bouth of En- | \S)\^"N JL rope in search of warm ? weather, still there wore enough people in-town t to justify the ball being given, and a q number of celebrities were present. 8 Outside it was dull and chilly, with a 0 thick yellow fog pervading the atmos- r phere, but within the ball-room it was like fairyland with the brilliant light of j the lamps, the profusion of bright flowers, i and the gay dresses worn by the ladies. B The orchestra, hidden behind a gorgeous t screen of tropical plants, was playing the t latest waltz, "A Friend of Mine," ana the sigh and sob of the melody as it'stole fc softly through the room seemed to in- t spire the dancers with a voluptuous lan- a guor as they glided over the polished floor. The soft frou-frou ol women's 0 dresses mingled with the light laughter d of young girls and the whispered confl- g dences of their partners, while over all a dominated the haunting melody with its r weird modulations and suggestions 01 j sensuous passion. t Near the door of the ball-room a young 0 man of about thirty years of age was lean- b ing against the wall in a lazy attitude, j idly watching the dancers swinging past him; but judging from the preoccupied p expression of his face his thoughts were _ evidently far away. He was ta'l, dark- v haired, with a short cut, well-trimmed ? beard, piercing dark eyes, a firmly com- 6 pressed mouth, and, judging from his r swarthy complexion together with a cer- t tain cnsp curl in his hair, he evidt ntly a had some negro blood in his veins Sud- t denly he was nroused from hi s meditations by a touch on his shoulder, and on J !;lancin? up saw before him a stout elder- t y gentleman with white hair, a r^ddy r , lace, and rather a Silenus cast of conn- f tenance. , c The one was Speuser Ellersby, only son t nf a woalthv Wnst Tndinn nlflnt?r and d the other Horace Marton, a well-known a society man generally called The Town * Crier, from th6 fact that he knew all the t current scandals and retailed them with j elaborate embellishments to his numerous t circle of friends. 1 "Hey! Ellersby.my boy," said The Town ? Crier, on the alert to acquire new lnfor- v mation, "have you come baek once more c to England, home and beauty?hey? Been all orer the world, I suppose, hev? Going i (0 publish a book of travels, hey?" "Not me," replied Ellersby, in the slow, 0 languid manner habitual to him; "every r one who goes a half a dozen miles nowa- c days publishes a book of travels under <; aima favifaafiA (Ule T 4A VA WA duuuv inuioouw tinu. x w uc ic nowned for not having done so." "Broke no new ground, hey?" "No," indifferently. "I haven't the instincts of Columbus, so the old gronnd was good enough for me. I've done Africa in a superficial manner, called on our American cousins, passed the same compliment to our Australian ditto, in fact done the usual thinfc with the usual result." "Heyl what'6 that?" "A sense of being bored?I agree with Voltaire to a certain extent, 'this is the * ? b?Bt of all possible worlds," but ono does g?t a little tired of it?however. I have I < satisfied your curiosity, now return the oonipliment. I've been away from EngBA Ir r? r\ txr nnfKinn i JttUU iVl IMV DW V4 I life in town?come, nnfold?tell me fill ? i scandals, deaths, marriages, divorces, in J fact all the gOBsip of the hour." , A- rr? - %A,*nno?<on ftftet The Totvn Crier's own heart, so he lanncned ont Into lorg description of folly And fashion, varied by Bermons and scandal, which, | being spiced with a little maliciousness, ' proved quite an amusing discourse. J Ellersby listened in silence with a quiet 1 smile on his lips, overy now and then 1 giving vent to an ejaculation as he heard some special morsel cf news. ] "You ongbt to write your memoirs, Marlon," ho said, drylyj "thoy would be as gossiping as Pcpys, cs scandalous ns De Grammont, and as amusing a6 either, 1 but go on?anything more? Who aro tho 1 aew beauties?'* "Hey! oh! one was here to-night. Lady c BaUcombo." t -What! old Balscombe married," said C Ellersby in a surprised tone. "I tboupht he loved no one bat himself?so.'?and who is the lady?" "That's what every one want9 to kncv," replied Marton, eagerly; "he picked her p down in the country somewhere, but he's got no pedigree?no money, no tal* nte?nothing but personal beauty." 'Which is worth all the rest put together lo a woman," interrupted Ellersby cynically. "What is she like?" 1 ne j.own i ner reeled on an auctioneerlike description of her at once. "Tall, fair, blue eyes, beautiful complexion, magnificent figure, and the devil's own temper.n"Nice set of qualifications, especially the latter," murmured Ellersby. "Balscombe fond of her?" ' * ~ney: on, yes?madiy! won't let tier on* >f bis sight, but he had to to-night, as ie'B off down to his place in Berkshire on >noiness; tried to make ber ladyship come oo, but she wouldn't because of this lance?good Lord?fancy a dance at this ime of year!?but Kerstoke'B wife was klwavs slichtlr cracked!" "Does Lady iial6combe reciprocate her msband's adoration?" "Not exactly! hey!" he replied, chucking. "Calliston is first favorite there." "Eh!?the deuce?I thought he was in ove with old Balscombe's ward, Miss n? 1 n renioiu. "So be is?bat be makes love to tbe rife, just to keep his hand in. I wouldn't De surprised if it ended in the divorce ;ourt. "Well, yon are generally right in your iurmises," retorted Ellersby; "but what would Mies Penfold say to that?" "Heyl oh, Bhe'd be glad," replied Marion; "bleBS you, she cares more for Myles Desmond's little linger than she does for iie whole body of Caliiston." "Oh, I know Myles," said Ellersby, promptly; "a rattling good fellow, was kith him at Cambridge, but we somehow never hit it off?trying to make a fortune t>y his pen, I hear." ""Yes! and hasn't made a penny yet. so tie acti as secretary to his cousin, Lord Dalliston. He's next heir to tbe title, you know, hey?" "Much chance he'll have of it," replied Ellersby, contemptuously. "Galliston's mre to marry and have heirs, unless he kills himself in the meantime with drink ?but to revert to our former conversation ?the Balscombe menage seems slightly mixed." "Hey! ratber. It 6tands this way." explained Marton, eagerly; "Balscombe's jealous of his wife on account of Callis;on, Lady B. is jealous of CalliBton on iccount of Miss Penfold, and that young ady does not care two straws for the vrhsilA lftf Af in onmnarionn t? MvlfiS Desmond." "Sounds -iike the second act of a French plfty," murmured Ellersby, yawnng. "Well, when I Bee Lady Balscombe !'ll give you an opinion of her looks; noantime, you must be dry after all that alking, 60 come and have a drink." "Wiiere are you stopping?" asked Maron, as they went to the supper-room. "Guelph Hotel, Jermyn street," said ?llersby, "only for a few days till I get ny rooms fixed up; I've brought such a ot of things home that my chambers look ike an old curiosity shop. What are you laving?" "Champagne," replied Marton. "Oh, I iay, dear boy," seeing his companion witn . small glass full of brandy, "that looks tad at this hour! Hey, you haven't " "No, I haven't," interrupted Ellersby, mpatiently; "I'm only taking this tolight because I don't feel up to the nark." Marten said no more, but after parting rith his companion went back to the .nll.rfwtnr and. m a friend, confided o him that Ellevsby was going to the logs through drink. "Brandy neat, dear boy, hey!" said the ild reprobate. "3ad habits these young ellows pick up abroad, hey! Looks used ip, bv Jot?. Gal in it, dear boy, hey!? n, shocking!" So The Town Crier evidently did not ntend to givo the returned wanderer a ;ood character. Ellereby was now tired of the ball, so iade good-night to his hostess, who was a :ueer, thin little woman, wearing a wig, k low-out dress, and many jewels, giving ne the general impression that she was on/1 ^iamnn^a UUStlJ VUUPD uuu u?M4uvM%?wt After taking leave of this bizarre fignre illersby put on bis coat and went outside nto the 6treet, where be stood for a few ainutes, undecided wbetber to take-a cab o hi6 hotel or to walk. The fog was very hick, and the gas lamps shone through t like dull vellow stars, while the chill ireezes of the night seemed to penetrate he body of the young man, accustomed ,s ho had been of late tp tropical climates. In spite of the apparent discomforts ffered by a walk at such a time, Ellersby letermined to risk it, thinking it would five him a certain amount of amusement, kin somewhat to the unraveling of a tuzzle, to find his way through the fog to ermyn street. Smiling at the oddity of he idea of finding pleasure in a cool walk 3 a foggy night, he lighted a cigar, and, +4-1 n*v Vtia onai IaaV hin VhV rlnnrn u?fbvuiu5 ?*d vv??, *vv? x-w t? uw iim 3ark lane toward Piocadilly. There is a strange feeling in tho comitate isolation one experiences in fog-land -the thick yellow mist hiding everything tnder its jealous veil until the pedestrian inds himself adrift, as it were, on a lonely ea, and though on every side be is envioned by millions of human beings, yet be fog creates for the moment a solitude i s in tbose enchanting cities of the Araiian Nights. Ellersby managed to find bis wey to Mccadilly, and was soon swinging nlong be pavement at a good round pace. Every iow and then ragged figures with sinister aces would come suddenly out of the fog >n the watch for unwary wanderers, bat be nomaaic uie 01 Jtiiersuy xmvmg woulerfally sharpened his faculties, he was always on his guard against the evil adances ot tnese nignt-turds. Occasionally le could hear a cab drive slowly past, the Iriver cautiously steering bis horse down he familiar street, which, as if by magic, tad suddenlv assumed an unreal appearance, transforming Piccadilly into a ague immensity resembling the Jteppes if Russia. With his ears alert for every sound, and lis eye6 peering anxiously into the veil of xay mist, Ellersby hurried along, man iged to croBs the street, and by some oiracle of dexterity, which he placed at ince to the credit of instinct, turned lown St. James street, and it was here lis first mishap occurred, for just as he ounded the oorner he came against a 'onng man hastening in the opposite diection at a rapid pace. "I beg your oardon," said the stranger [Uicltly, 'but tne fog is so dense I could lot see?excuse me." And he was about io hurry away when 211ersby, recognizing the voice, stopped lim. "Wait a moment, Desmond," he said, jayly, "and give an old friend a word." Desmond seemed annoyed at being rec i-.j ?J i?l: -x. l? .4 ik. jgmzeUy uuu luunaug buaipij nt me AU<JC >f the other, gave vent to an ejaculation >f surprise, which, however, had not a rery delighted ring in it. "Ellersby, by Jove!" he said, ir. a hesi;ating manner, "I thought you were in Persia or in Patagonia. Who the deuce would hav? expected to see yc.u in Picca* lilly on anch a devil of a night?" "I've been to a ball," explained Ellers)y, "and thought I'd walk back to my lotel just to renew my acquaintance with London fogs. It was a mad freak, buf imusing. Come to my hotel and have a light cap." "Thanks, awfully," said Desmond, huriedly, "but I can't. I'm?I'm in a hurry, IVhere ar? von stor>ninc??" "Guelph Hotel, Jermyn street." "Eh!" said Desmond, with a start. "Jernyn street?all right; look you up toil orrow." "Wait a moment," observed Ellersby, letaining him. "Tell me, where is Callison? I want to see him." "Not much chance," replied Desmond, .baking bis head. "He's?gone off tolight down to Shoreham?yachting, you mow. "Wants to fid to tbe Azores: welL will see you to-morrow; good night?I'm ,n a deuce of a hurry." He spoke rapidly, with nervous agita;ion quite at variance with hie usual deneanor, as Ellersby knew, ami as he went )tf quickly and was swallowed up by the fog, tbe latter resumed bis walk with a jniet laugh. "A woman, I bet." he Biid to himself, is he made bis way cautiously along. 'Fancy Venus on such a discouraging light as this?tbe roBy mistB enveloping ihe goddess are charming, but a London fog?ah, bah!" He stood on tbe pavement, wondering low b? could strike JeittJn fltreet. and W8B abont to attempt to oro&s op a cnanc? of his luok guiding him when the tall form of a policeman loomed oat of the fog and flashed the light of a lantern on him. "Ah, just in time, policeman," said Ellersby, in a relieved tone. "I've got slightly astray in this fog, so yon must guide me to the Guelph Hotel." "Just across the street, sir,"replied the ?? i-? *?! ? 1*4#. V,/\l m nf on/1 Vt ex puiiueuitiu, lUUVUUJjj llin iimuiDi, nuu W stepped off the pavement, followed by Ellersby. They soon got into Jermyn Btreet and went alone the left-hand Bide toward the hotel. Though .the fog was Btill thick, Ellersby in the vanity of his heart thonght he conld now find the wav for himself, tie gave tne policeman half a-crown, anrt going along a few yards, went up what he supposed was the steps of the hotel. The policeman stood in the same place, ready to render his services as a guide, should he be required, when snddenly he was startled by a cry from Ellersby. ' The young man had gone up the wrong teps, and was standing on the top when the policeman hurried up, while at his feet was a bundle of what looked like clothes. "I say, policeman,"said Ellersby, in an agitated tone, "here is a woman?I believe she's dead." "Dead drank, more like, sir," replied the policeman, skeptically, ascending the step's. "No," said Ellersby, "I have shaken her and she will not waken. Her face is quite cold?just look!" ?' ' The policeman, somewhat startled out of his professional phlegm, turned the light down on the figure of the woman, which was lying in the doorway. It was that of a female with a fair face and golden hair, dressed in a long sealskin jacket and a silk dress, with a fashionably shaped hat on her head. Her well-gloved hands were tightly clinched and her eyes, wide open, were staring straight up at the horrified discoverers. There did not seem to be any wound or blood about, but her face was swollen and appeared to be of a dark purple color, with the tongue slightly protruding between the teeth. It was not by any means a pleasant sight, and both men felt a sensation of horror as they looked at the body. "She's dead, sure enough, sir," said the policeman at length, and blew whistle. To this call there was an answer, and eoon another policeman made his appearance. "She looks as if she had been stran gled," said Ellersby, who was much upset by the discovery; "her face is so purple and her tongue protruding." The first policeman bent down and looked at the neck of the corpse, but could see no marks of violence, so he shook his head. "Don't know sir," h# answered. "It looks a queer sort of case. We'll take the body to the hospital and see what the doctors say." In the meantime the other policeman had gone for aid, and in a few minutes two more made their appearance with a stretcher, upon which the body waB placed and taken to the .nearest hospital. In acoordance with a request made by the policeman, Ellersby gave his card, so that he could be culled on to appear at the inquest, and then went to the Guelph Hotel, which was only a short distance op the street. [TO BE CONTJNDED.] Indians Going to Market An incident of this typical journey ] am describing would, at more than one season, be a meeting with some band of Indians going to a post with furs for barter. Though the bulk of these hunters fetch their quarry in the spriDg and early summer, some may come at any time. The procession may be only that of a family or of the two or more families that live together,or a3 neighbors. The man, if there is but one group, is likely to be stalking ahead, carrying nothing but his gun. Then come the women, laden like pack horses. They may have a sled packed with the furs and drawn by a dog or two, and an extra dog may bear a balanced load on his back,but the squaw is certain to have a spine-warping hnrden nt meat and a battered kettle and a pappoose, and whatever personal property of any and every sort she and her liege lord own. Children who can walk have to do so, but it sometimes happens that a baby a year and a half or two yeare old is on her back, while a new-born infant, swaddled in blanket staff, and bagged and tied like a Bologna sausage, surmounts the load on the sled. A more tatterdemalion outfit than a band of these pauperized savages form it would be difficult to imagine. On the plains they will have hones dragging travoises, dogs'with travoises,women and children loaded with impedimenta, a colt or two running loose, the lordly men riding free, straggling curs a plenty, babies in arms, babies swaddled, and afnnt and thfi whole battalion presenting at its exposed points exhibits of torn blankets, raw meat, distorted pots and pans, tent, poles and rusty traps, in all eloquently suggestive of an eviction in the slums of a great city.?Harper's Maga'ine. Longevity or Birds. Among birds, the swan lives to be the oldest, in extreme cases reaching 300 years; the falcon has been known to live 162 years. An eagle died in 1819 which had been caught 104 years before, and was then quite old. A white-headed vulture, which was caught in 1706, died s? ?!.? of HnlinnKriin nMr Vienna. 1U IUC ATMUJ UW WWUVHW?H*.} f ia 1824. Parrots live more thau a century. Water birds have a long life, exceeding that of several generations of men. Ravens also live over a hundred year3. In captivity magpies live from twenty to twenty-five years, and still longer in freedom. The common hen attdtns t?e age of from fifteen to twenty years. Doves live ten years, and the little singing birds from eight to seventeen ? ? * ? years. Tbe mgntiagaie b me is vur shortest, ten years being the longest, and next comss the blackbird, which never lives longer than fifteen years.?Public Opinion. Count Tolstoi has written a long letter to a New York paper, giving his personal observations and experiences in the famine districts of Russia. It may correct some impressions In America to know that this celebrated philanthropist and author acquits the general government and the local functionaries of either indifference or procrastination in relief for the sufferers from famine, but he finds that, with all that has been /-\r> r\ nnrl mi+U oil Pliccljl PUT! UU11C) auu VI i tu ail uiii* v xwuww do, more than half the suffering must remain unless people more fortunately situated contribute to their relief. There has been so much misinformation in this country regarding the famine and the attitude of the Russian Government toward the starving peasants, that this appeal of Count Tolstoi's ought to set matters right and open the purses of those who are able to help these poor people. ? LIFE IN ALASKA, i HOW THE NATIVES PASS THEIR TIME IN TV INTER. Hibernating During Many Months? Intelligent Sledge Dogs and Their Arduous Tasks?Favorite Reindeer Hunting Grounds. URING the first Part w*nter nai,lv,:;o ui ^e&z^akm&tiwt ^as'?a remain in . their subterranean ^ dwellings in a can\ dition of inaction approaching almost that of hibernating I '5 animals. No atWM#l tempt at hunting game is made except the setting of traps very near their winter camps,and these are only visited when exceptionally fine weather permits. From October uutil the latter pait of January storm after storm sweeps over the barren tundra plains, snow falls almost incessantly, and the high polar winds drive even these hardened hyper- 1 boreans to shelter. The return of the sun from the south, bringing with it light and more settled weathsr, is the signal for the natives to emerge irom their dismal winter huts and begin their migratory hunt for food, which will last until the coming of spring unseals the rivers and opens up once more the ave^ nues to the coast. In each little winter camp I visited in Aictic Alaska, writes J. C. Cantwell, in the San Francisco Chronicle, there was one hut considerably larger than the others, and upon inquiry I learned that this was used as a sort of general gather ing place for the men of the commune, where the work of preparation for the coming hunting season was done anc the plans of the family generally discussed. With the first appearance of daylight and the return of the sun sleds are got out and repaired, dog harness and weapons of the chase overhauled, and the dogs got into condition by a course of dieting and exercise for the approaching season. The Eskimo dog is perhaps cursed with the most unhappy lot of any of the canine nice, and his disposition has been soured by adversity in the shape of hard kicks and small allowance of food until ne appears now 10 De a creature wiui uu otber aim id life than to steal whatever is left within his reach, to quarrel and fight with every other living dog, or to howl dismally if he is prevented from carrying out these little propensities by being tied up by bis master. Eskimo dogs have no idea of protecting property, and are sing ilarly indifferent to the presence of strangers in the camp. They recognize no law except that of brute lorce, and will only work when hungry and the prospect of food at the end of the journey is before them. . - -vv.vVCV ARCTIC DC They are not devoid of intelligence, and some of their actions go to prove this in an amusing manner. Once while being towed in a small boat by a team of dogs along the shores of Selawik Lake I noticed one of the team inclined to loaf by hanging back, stopping to scratch, making futile efforts to get out of his harness and by numerous other dog tricks to avoid work. When this sort of thing had gone on for some time, the rest of the dogs set up a kind of yelping protest, and suddenly the leader of the team, a big, shagpy fellow, turned and sprang nn the offending doer and irave him ' ~ n o w a good thrashing. When the dogs were separated and started off agnin I observed that the lazy member no longer had any desire to shirk. But if the Eskimo dog's disposition is not the sweetest in the world the work he does for hia native masters more than compensates for his lack of amiability. In his puppy days every attention possible is paid to the dog's health and comfort. I have often seen an Eskimo woman holding a little puppy which was not lee ling just right as tenderly in her arms as Bhe would a babv, but at six months the good days of puppydom are over and tbe young dog is soon in harness for life. The best dogs in Alaska are raised at Cape Prince of Wales and in that vicinity. They form one of the chief sources of wealth of the coast natives, and in this respect are as certain a source of revenue as is the pony to our Indians of the plains. ^jjL/ V<rjj% I ( ESKIMO BOY IN WINTEIl COSTUME. During the winter months transportation of heavy articles and the camp outfit is effected by means of dog sled?. The sleds in general use in Alaska are from six to eight feet long and two to two and u half feet wide. They are made of wood, securely lashed together with thongs made of deer or seal skin, and weigh from forty to sixty pounds. The Eskimo sled is capable of carrying from 200 to 300 pounds' weight with safety and proportionately more lor short trips. The absence of all ironwork, ' ; s hk m snch as nails, to fasten the parts together or to protect the runner* from wear is at oncd noticeable when one comes to examine the method of construction. This absence of metal is one of the great advantages which the native sled has over all others. In the first place lashings are always superior to rigid fastening for ESKIMO WOMAN AND CHILD. field service on account of the greater facility with which accidents can be repaired ; but if this were not reason enough iron would be unsuitable for it in a climate where the temperature falls freequently to sixty degrees below zero, which would render iron as brittle al-, most as glass. Some of the sleds are made with pro( jecting handles behind to steer withand with side rails, to which is secured the load. The runners of the sleds on the coast are usually shod with bone or ivory, but in the interior it is customary to protect a runner with a ehoe of ice. The ability to make an ice shoe which will stand the wear of a day's travel is one of the texts of a good Eskimo hunter. A team of dogs usually numbers five, always driven tandem, and they are trained to travel long distances without food, and are never fed except in rare cases until the end of the day's journey. Each dog is then given a small quantity of dried fish soaked in oil by a native who stands ready with a whip or club to chastise any dog who tries to get more than his share. TUA nniltrAB^ 1/laa AI AA IB TTQFtT auc uauyw ium ui uioiau^o w TWJ vague, and it is therefore bard to find Out exactly how far a dog team can travel in a day's journey. Much depends upon the condition of the snow, the state of the weather, etc., but from the most reliable sources I learned that sixty miles is about an average day's run under favorable conditions. But even this cannot be kept up for any length of time, as the dogs' feet get tender and they become peevish, morose and quarrelsome to such an extent that even the natives' ingenuity cannot get any work out of KJ SLED. them until they have had a complete rest. The Alaskan Eskino seldom rides in his Bled unless it is unloaded. The women trudge along on foot also, and more usual than not pack the baby on their backs under the hood of their "parkies." The favorite bunting grounds of the interior natives in Northwestern Alaska are in the vicinity of the headwaters of several large rivers which flow into the Arctic Ocean. The region is dotted by innumerable lakes, most of which are surrounded by mountains, and forms an irionl nlnnp for hiintincr hifr came. Here are found black and brown bear, caribou, mountain sheep, wolf, inuskrat, beaver, red, white, cross and silver-gray foxes, lynx, Arctic hare and reindeer. The pelts of all these animals are carefully preserved when taken, and when the spring opens the hunters journey to the coast to trade with the coast natives and white traders for such articles as ammunition, drilling, tobacco, etc. The reindeer furnishes the principal article of feod for the natives of the interior for six months of the year. They are found in herds around the foothills of the mountains and scattered in bands over the tundra plains. When a herd is ? a .1 _ i_ * <_ll ?? Jocatea xoe uumera iuuuw xu up aouwmj as possible, and some of their methods of capture are peculiar to this region and deserve a special description. Once while engaged in a reconnoisance of the country lying on the shores of a lake near the headwaters of the Kowak River, I observed on the hillside, which gradually sloped down to the water's edge, a collection of stone monuments placed at regular intervals, and so arranged that they formed two lines gradually approaching each other as the lake shore was reached. My guide informed me that these monuments had been erccted there by hunters and were used by them as a means of driving the deer into the lake when the ice had melted in the spring. The deer was driven carefully by the hunters toward the wide opening hnfmson fVio linn nf stones, and then as the animals still move in the hunters rush in and stampede the herd. The stone mounmeutE are mistaken by the now thoroughly frightened deer for men, and they invariably make a dash for the narrow opening at the other end of the line of stones. This of course brings them to the lake, and into it the whole herd plunges to seek escape by swimming to the other shore. The hunters follow in boats, and my informant told me that often hundreds of deer were killed in this manner if the hunters had * *? i i a been skilled in driving a mrge uauu mw this novel trap. Another way of trapping deer on a large scale is to drive a herd into a narrow gorge which is filled with snowdrift. When the animals attempt to cross these drifts they break through the thin upper crust and thus fall an easy prey to their enemies. A clever wuy of capturing a wolf or other predatory animal is by rolling a piece of sharpened whalebone about a foot in length up in shape of a watch spring and covering it with a thick layer of tallow. The ball thus made is placed where the animal is likely to pass, and ? <* the native trapper awaits with tranquility the results of his little scheme. If an animal incautiously bolts the tempting morsel found in his path, he usually doet not get very far before the whalebone is set free by the softening of tho coating of tallow, and, piercing the walls of the stomach causes death. Small steel traps of American manufacture are now in common use among the Eskimo for the capture of the smaller fur-bearing animals, such as tht> fox, lynx, hare, etc. T^oo^fa 11 a /\f Vioavtt 1 a/m ova o#\ma. ^vuuiuiio iuauv vi uvo*j iuj^d aio ouutgtimes used by the natives to capture bear, but the custom is not general, and by far the greater number of these animals taken are either shot with a rifle or killed in single combat with the natire spear. The Physician's Revenge. This story of Meissonier's wife and a a physician whose identity is not revealed is told by the Pall Mall (London) Gazette: The lady sent in haste for the doctor, who responded promptly,fearing that (erious illness had overtaken the famous artist. But it was only a lapdog for whom his services were required and he was indignant. Pocketing hi* pride, however,he ministered to the patient and cured him. At the end of the year Mme. Meissonier noticed in the doctor's bill no item for this case and called his attention to it, whereupon the medical man explained that he was not a veterinary surgeon and could not therefore make a charge. Me was giaa, However, to ao the dog a kindness. Bat the lady in* siated. "Well," said the doctor, "the hinges of my garden gate are rusty; as!c ' Mr. Meissonier to bring his brash and jjaint them for me." The Snow Plant of the Sierras. We present herewith, from a photograph taken by Mr. Taber, of Sac Francisco, a figure of the California snow plant (Sarcodes sanguines, Torr.), so called because it thrusts its stem up through the snow to a height of nine or * _? .4.1 i ten incnes, ana nowers wnen no otaer THE SNOW PLANT OP TrfE SIERRAS. vegetation is to be seen. This curious plant, which belong to the order Ericaccc, is alllied to the pine drops (Pterospora), but has much larger flowers, an elongated style and wingless seeds. There is but one species (the one here figured), which is an erect herbaceous parasite, with succulent, scale-like leaves, and a long raceme of pendulous flowers. The whole plant is of a bloodred color.?Scientific American. Novelties in Belts. Belt manufacturers are likely to have a very busy season, as recent changes in /nnliiftno om rvlotrinrr infn fflOlT Vl*nrl?_ iMUivua aiv ?mv?* When the summer girl who plays tennis, boats, sails, etc., first became aa important factor in American life she wore pretty much anything that was queer, but now that suitable outing garments have become an essential part of feminine costume, blouses, waists, and, in consequence, belts have grown to great importance. Last year it was blouses LATEST FASHIONS IN BELTS. and sashes; this year it is waists and belts; the great predominance of waists both for house and neglige wear entail ing a similar increase in the wearing of belts. Bodice belts for women, ring belts for men, both of russet leather,are the leaders this season. A common defect of bodice belts, their tendency to bieak down and wrinkle,is overcome by the curved shape, which permits the belt to fit the form with no greater tension on the edges than in the centre. A Horseshoe Aids Science. About 1887 a horseshoe was found under the ice of the glacier Theodul, in n ' J Un/ln rtfirtln/TtotC trt cwuzenuuu, >viuwu icauo ?w the idea that this pass, 3332 metres high, was formerly not imbedded ia ice. Tbis has been further confirmed by a recent find of coins bearing the likeness of Augustus and Diocletian.?Popular Science News. A Joyous Momeut. Nervous Gentlemen (who has engaged individual on left to act a? guide)? "But, my good man, are you sure you have taken the right road?" The Individual (gruffly)?"I know I has; we are now close to the 'Bloody Gulch,' where a man's skelington was found last summer with bullet holes in the tkull. They tried to fix the murder on me, but (with a grin of great satisfaction) they rouldn't piove nothin'. No, they couldn't prove novbin' 1"?Life 7 "gggjgysa . s ' " ' i ' , ' . WriYf I wonder why. atx months ago, When we two met to say good-by. And roses tossed their scented snow Tn wnniner winds that whisoered nieh: When sunlight /ell in glittering showers The blossom-laden boughs among, And all the earth was bright with flowers And all the air was glad with song, That, even though you bent and kissed The tearful cloud upon my face, I only saw a world of mist Which held no beauty and no grace! I wonder why, now d&yt are cold. And no gay wing the coppice stirs; Now snow lies thickly o'er the world. And mournful winds are in the first Nor sun, nor bird, nor flower, I miss, Because at the old place we stand, (There are no tears for you to kiss,) And onoe more whisper hand in hrfnd: That though the earth is wrapped in gloom, And leaden clouds shut out the sky, My world seem* filled with light and bloom And summer'warmth?I wonder why I ?E. HathesoD, in Chamber^* Journal. ? PITH AND POINT.' / " Hen of po?itive convictions?State prison inmates.?Lowell Courier. One of the hardest lines of duty to a woman is the clothes line.?Dallas News. uut oi uie mourns 01 oaoies ana bucklings cometh that which., maketh sleep a stranger.?New Tork Herald. g Swell (to ingenuqps maiden)~"Are yon engaged?" Ingenuous Maiden?"No-^ bat?I should so like to be."?London Punch. t /. My son, do not pat your oar into a general conversation of sensible people unless you have a good skull.?Elmira Gazette. Paradoxical as it may appear, when a man has got low down in the world he may be said to be gone ap.?Bingham* ton Leader. If men knew qs much at forty yean of age as they knew at twenty, there would be more statesmen in the country.? Texas Sittings. The woman who blames herself for a man's misdeeds is apt to find him cheerfully acquiescing it her views.?Indianapolis Journal. 'What do you think of your new governess, Tommy?" "Ohf she's all right for a beginner, but she'll soon learn."?Boston Post. "Buntie is very aristocratic, is he not?" "Yes, indeed; he refused to many a lady because she had a low ' voice."?Boston Gazette. Passenger (familiarly to street-car condoctor)?' "How are you this mornlngf Conductor (extending his hand politely) ?"Fare."?Lowell Citizen. Ethel?"Jones is a ve-y melancholy man." Reid?"Yes. He \$as so well ? brought up in his youth that he's never been able to get aoy fun out of life."? Brooklyn Life. Prisoner (who has jost been successfully defended by his attorney on a ' < charge of burglary, eagerly)?"You'll riafflnd me next time. too. won't von!" I Fliegende Blaetter. Little Johnny ia much perplexed to know why it is that he is compelled, to i go to bed at night when he isn't sleepy, v T and forced to get up in the morning /? when he is.?Boston Transcript. "You say you are a good washer and ironer. How do you tell when the iron* are too Dot*" "Howv ay smelling me burning linen, mum, of course. What's my nose for?"?Philadelphia Times. It is common enough to hear deaf peo- 1 pie speak of hearing from their friends, but we do not remember ever hearing a blind man say that he fell in love with any woman at first sight.?Boston Transcript. It is difficult to say which is the more exasperating,the man who treads on your heels on the public sidewalk or the man who in front of you will persist in-keep* ing his heels in the way of your toes.? Boston Transcript. Mr. Bunker ftrvin? to establish a < basis of conversation)?"A nice cup of tea is very nice. Don't you think so?'* Miss Hill?"I cannot quite agree with you. A nice cup of tea may be nice, bat it takes a very nice cup of tea to be veiy nice."?Chicago Tribune. Elderly Widow?"Well, there I I believe I've made all the bequests I wish to make, still I find $10,000 remaining." Mutual Friend?"Oh, that's all right. J It will take all of th&t to prove you were I of sound mind when you made your M will."?Pittsburgh Bulletin. Anxious Wife?"What la his ailment, / doctor?" Physician?"I pronounce it / paresis, madame." Boston Sick Man/ (feebly)?"According to?recent au/ thoritiea, you?don't pronounce it?correctly, The?accent?is on the?firai syllable."?Chicago Tribute. / "What is the matter, Mrs. Goldefnt Y?i look like you had seen a ghost?1* "Ah, Mrs. Covenhaven, I was nrtu-ly killed just now?" "How did it happen, Mrs. Golden?" "Mrs. Fleury, who , lived in number twinty-siven has been mn over bv an electric car. I live in numoer twinty-six; suppose it had been me!"?Pharmaceutical Era. A Maine woman sent to the house of j her nearest neighbor and requested the loan of a new pair of scissors. The neighoor was using them, and sent back word accordingly. The would-be borrower was not to be rebuffed so easily, and presently her little girl appeared tho second time to say: "Mother wants to know if you will lend her a quarter to buy a pair of scissors with?"?Lewiston Journal. I Chinese Military. The Chinese were formerly accustomed to rely largely upon noise in battle. They were astonished upon encountering British troops for the first time, to find that ?k- 1" ?'? nnf fricrhtenpri h? CUC jawiwi nv?v ?v? - -0 ? ? , yells and the beating of tom-toms. A. favorite weapon of theirs, since disused, was the "stinkpot," a sort of bomb-shell containing such frightful odors that those among whom it was thrown might well turn and run. Yet even the pigtailed Orientals learn, and some day they may in their turn give Europe a lesson. It is not generally realized that they had n mar nnltr n ffiw rpnrs ficrn in whirl* thirty million of men died,* and that they could call into the field to-morrow as many soldiers as are numbered in all the armies of the world and have enough men left over to man every ship that floats. Furthermore, their forces are now armed with the best modern rifle* and drilled by skilled French and German officers. ?-Boston Transcript* _j "