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A WOMAN'S JXWTUDXinV CHAPTER XVII?Continued. "Poor Brian. What a state to be in. Don't shudder any more. The places I go, and the people I meet, only hurt my heart A very effective hurt, too; for it teaches me to appreciate my own good fortune, and it makes me feel very regretful to sit here amid so much comfort and luxury, and remember the many victims of the world's injustice. You * 1 Trhnf naa couia never uuagiue, imku, ........ ,? elonate delight that poor little crippled girl took in the few flowers I carried her; and, while I watched her, I could not help thinking what a revelation a sight of Elmwood would be to her. I have been thinking of it ever since. So many pians have filled my heart, but they are all impossible. I feel bo helpless and?rebellious. Doctor, you are smiling. I don't think you quite enter into my feelings. Can you Imag ne a woman living on the proceeds of button holes, at a cent and a half apiece? Agnes' mother supports herself so. She is satisfied, she told hnlua arfl lllpntv. JTJtJ, WXIt'Il UUbwu uvivv %?. w 4 w . But now they are not. Hooks and eyes have taken their place. I told Nanny the other day that I liked hooks and eyes. Now I hate them, because I know they have taken bread from at least one woman's mouth. And she is not alone. I feel that I have been living in a small corner of the earth up to this time, and I am only just) awaking to real actual life. It is a sad revelation for me. I cannot tell you how many women I saw to-day, and how many others I heard of, who sing the Song of the Shirt from daylight to midnight?to whom its heart-break and want are a living reality. How can we talk of the demoralization of the lower classes? How can we preach to them? Shall we imitate the exman who cave a Bible when the starving woman asked for bread? We forget our souls when the body is hungry; at least, I .should. But, if I were one of those women, wearing out my life for a pittance, I Bhould not forget that the man for1 whom I starved lived in a palace, and enjoyed the luxuries purchased with my life-blood. The world admires such men, and calls them fortunate and successful, because they have made so much wealth in a few years; but I am very much afraid that, if I were in their place, I should see a wan, hungry face on every dollar." "Isn't that rather severe, Mrs. Leigh?" Margaret did not meet Wilson's eye as she answered this question. "Perhaps it is. I'm afraid I always express myself too strongly. These things appeal to me so forcibly, and when I ieel, I feel intensely." "Then take my advice and don't go among them," observed Brian, practi ^ x ? ?Vil/Nn/v^Vitr +A onalf cally. "it is not true puuusuuuj w out the dark side of life. This is not home, and you cannot be sure into what sort of places your-wanderings may take you, or what kind of characters you may meet" Margaret was thoughtful a moment "I do not chance upon much refinement and elegance," she said presently; "but that does not affect me in any way. I feel that I could take the hand of the worst creature on earth and not bo low- I ered. You know I have a prejudice I against those people whose excessive j i fiv-im onntant with I gUUUXJCdO Dili iuxxo iiuui others?not always so much worse, only more unfortunate than themselves. They are the Pharisees, who thank God they are not as their neighbors are. Suppose we should imitate them. I like to see the picture of the woman clinging to the cross, and I confess I find it Inspiring; but at the same time, I cannot help thinking that the woman who holds out her hand to an unfortunate Bister is more helpful and more noble. If the world thinks otherwise I disagree with it. Don't draw down your lips in that pathetic way, Brian. This isn't a sermon. I sha'n't say another word." Margaret settled back in her chair, with an air of determination that rather amused Wilson. "I am on your side of the question," he replied, with a smile. "So is Brian, If he chooses to admit as much." "I'm incapable of any admission just now," put in Brian. I am wholly lost In admiration of Margaret's facility for disposing of all opinions not her own, and marching on to victory. She has a AMt /-?!/-> a in rr ramArlrfl nraj vx uiiu^iu^ aiv* ?, which says quite decidedly 'There, that's final. Dispute if you dare!' It is useless to say 'Oh, Brian!' Margaret. The fact is true. Tou have a most astonishing tenacity for your own ideas. You can out-argue the greatest logician on earth. Out-talk him. I should say." * "Thanks for the correction. Youi! distinction is delicate, but obvious. It would be too much, I am sure, for any man to give a woman credit for an ability fc> argue. I wonder what poor jnen will do, when they are forced to recognize woman's mental equality., perhaps even then they will continue to Indulge in witty satire, at her expense, We forgive them. To lecture us affordsj jthem innocent amusement, and they really haven't the grace to echo Charlotte Bronte's prayer: 'When I have toothing to say, may the Lord give mo grace to be silent.' " "You have us quite defenseless, Mrs. Leigh. Brian has not a word to say, and I ana but little better. How are w<j to find consolation for your unflattering opinion?" "You would not be a true man, Doc^ tor, if you did not find it within your* onlf T hAvft often thoucrht that V0U ar< the natural follower of Descartes. Theoretically and practically you finJ the ego all sufficient." "Worse and worse," laughed Wilson, "And Brian rejoices in my discomfiture. Shall I regret being a man?" "By no means/" returned Margaret. "It is the next best thing to being a woman. You have the easier side of life, too. We have the harder. Th? ilion's share of suffering falls on us, arid w*' must see our duty under the rnosl painful circumstances. A man mav ba blind, indeed, ho usually is hllnd wnen he wants to be; but it would be quite reprehensible for a woman to pretend defective vision in similar circumstances. So there is some consolation for you Am I driving you away, Doctor?" "By no means," rejoined Wilson, who had risen at her question, and now stood looking down upon her with a quizzical light in his eyes. "I am only sorry I ? inntrer' hut vour sweenincr UU.U liuu Ol U tvu0v*| v 4 w accusation against the convenient blindness of men reminds me (hat I have a imtient waiting for me down the street; and as that is a duty to which I can not l>e Wind. I shall have to sity good-ni^ht. I admit there is much justice in your remark. Nevertheless, I hope that time pa ay improve your opinion of us poor Jhen. Brian, any moBonts yoo tafe fo spare, remember and pity my lonely 6tate.* "You don't deserve pity on that score," rejoined Brian, promptly. "You know the remedy and refuse to apply it." "Wilson laughed in answer, and saying "Good-night," he left them. CHAPTER XVIII. A UNK FROM THE OLD LIFEAs Margaret boped and expected, Bertie put in an appearance two evenings later?the same light-hearted, cheery Bertie, with his never-failing goodhumor and his almost inexhaustible store of news and gossip, to carry her back to her home and let her feel, in Imagination at least, something of old pleasures and interests. Changes in a small place are always omnifiAonf nnH of more general UiV/lU Oi^uiuvwtiv v. _ interest than those in a great city, where the identity of the individual is lost in the great labyrinth of humanity, and Margaret, whoso affection absence had only increased, took a keen delight in hearing not only of the friends she had left but of even the slightest occurrence about Elmwood and its surroundings, and, In return, Bertie wanted to hear about herself; "This city air has not brought the roses to your cheeks," he said. "I hope you haven't developed such a fondness for it that you will be sorry to come back to us." "Never, Bertie; my mind can never even imagine such a possibility. In the first place, I don't like New York, I?I actually hate it, though I shouldn't tell anyone but you; and, in the second place, I love Elmwood dearly. Then there are things I enjoy there which I cannot have here; my rides, for one thing. Occasionally I have a ride in the park, but it isn't the same as at" home. Here one must go at a certain eait. and people ride awkwardly, too, 1 think. I suppose it is the fashionable way, but it isn't half so graceful, to see them pounding their saddles, ono might say. It really tries me to look at them. The park is beautiful, though. New York may well be proud of it. I have been around a great deal. Brian takes me everywhere, and I usually enjoy the places we visit." "And Brian?" questioned Bertie, meeting her eye. Her head drooped slightly. Bertie 6aw the action. He left his chair and came to her. "Tell me, Margaret," he said, placing his hand upon her shoulder, "it isn't so hard for you to answer?" "No," 6he replied in a low voice, "it should not be so hard now. My heaH has ached, oh, so terribly, and I have . been hopeless and despairing, because I was alone?so helplossly alone. Ah, I * ' *" ? T KoTTfl Know WIIUl VYUU1U OCA J . * uw>v friends. Yes, such true. friends. Do you think I ever doubted them, Bertie? But you can understand that there are! sorrows which none can share. Lately I have been more encouraged. He has left me so little, but last night he was later than usual, and to-night he is? not here?at all." Her head drooped still lower and his hand fell until it rested on hers with a gentle, reassuring sympathy in its touch. "All may be right," he said with an effort at consolation. "Perhaps," 6he answered. "I can only hope, and if it should not be, the disappointment will be so bitter. Last night he did not seem perfectly himself. 1 tried to believe I imagined it, but I am afraid I showed something in my aotions. I tried so hard, too?so hard nof to let him see." '"Why should you have tried?" cried Bertie, pressing his lips hard. "Why should you consider him? You have feelings, too. Must they always be outraged?" Margaret raised her eyes at this strong expression of his thoughts. "I think women can't consider their feelings, Bertie," she returned, with a " n ft Sign. IX BC&HT3 L<J IIIU nu Jiiavtvt how hard or how bitter it may be, they can never get beyond the range of duty. I think we grow to be hypocrites in a way. We are so often obliged to hide our hearts. I know I have often smiled my brightest when my eyes were burning with tears I held back. I suppose the baptism of sorrow must touch us all, and I only hope that it may wash out all that should not be in my life, and make me braver and stronger for what is to come. Are you leaving me, Bertie? I'm afraid you find me very doleful." "I leave you, Margaret, to find him. I cannot bear to sit here and hear you talk and There; I'll act like a baby next Margaret, you are a dear, brave girl. Long ago, when " "Before you thought I should grow into such a sedate young woman," interrupted Margaret, hastily. "We used to fight gloriously in those days, didn't we? Uncle fannied I should always be a tomboy. I wonder if ne would recognize me now?" She finished with a sigh, and the light words had held such deep meaning that Bertie found it hard to meet the eyes she raised so bravely to his. "So Ion2 aso?" he said, half absently. "Not quite six years since I first saw you. I remember the day so perfectly. You were just home from college, and you had two cats tied together by the tails. I thought you such a cruel boy. Well, you want to go? I shall see you again,"sha'n't I? You are like a breath from Elmwood, Bertie." "You will see me again, and 6oon, Margaret. Now look me in the face and promise me that the day shall never come when you will cease to regard me -as a brother. There; good-night; your tears pain me. God forgive Brian; I cannot." Once upon the street Bertie walked along, absorbed in thought. This brief visit to Margaret had entirely unnerved mm, ana ^seined wnoiiy incapable ol any practical decision. When he arrived in front of the Hoffman House he run across Wilson, and feelinc rather glad of this chance encounter he greeted him warmly. "Thi9 is really the first moment I could call my own to-day," declared Wilson, taking a cigar from tTie case Bertie offered him. "Where is your destination?" * "I was just tryinpj to decide," wa9 Bertie's answer. "I dropped in to see Margaret, and I haven't recovered from the shock her appi-arunce gave ine yet. I never saw her look more wretched and ill, though I am inclined to thiuk the cause is not entirely physical." "No. Other influences at work. IIow die. you leave her?" "Alone," was the sententious reply. "Alone," repeated "Wilson. "Then, Brian ?" "Is off disgracing himself," responded Bertie with much anger. "He ought to be thrashed. Wilson's face grew very grave. "1 had hope.l things might be better," he said, with a 6igh. "They will never be better. I believe Brian has lost his last grain of manhood. He is worse than a coward. If he had a heartless, selfish wife there might be some reason, though never an excuse for his actions. But now there is absolutely nothing that one can say for him. Ho is simply breaking Mar caret's heart. If you had seen her a year ago you could realize what a change these last months have wrought in her. It is his doing: all his doing. After she has left her home, her friends, and all she loves, for his sake. My heart swells with indignation at the inought. J k.uQW how jho loves Elm wood, and dislikes Xew York. Yel after all this, she'll continue to talk ol duty. Women are enigmas; I give them up. I'd like to thrash Brian, though. It might possibly do hire good." "I can't understand him," remarked Wilson, half absently. "No, nor can any onoelse. He doesn'1 seem worth the understanding. I'll have to find him somehow, and sent t non't hftnr thfi thoiiffhr. n( D1II1 IIULUC. * O Margaret waiting in such anxious dread, not knowing whether he is tumbling about in the gutter or disgracing himself in some other way. Are we at youi quarters already? How fast we mus1 have walked! No; I can't come in tonight. Some other time, old fellow I'll have to make the round of the clut houses, I dare say. Well, good-night.' Bertie did not find Brian, as he hac expected, in any of his probable haunts, though he went to them all, anxiouslj examined the sea of faces, and even miAStinnAfl thf? Traitors and attendants, Rather disheartened after this vaii search, he scarcely knew where to gc next. In his dilemma, he was in th< act of turning a street corner when the full glare of the street lamps fpllinj upon a figure in front of him revealec something very familiar in its outlines, "Brian," he said, under his breath Yes, Brian?walking with the uncertair gait that only confirmed his fears. H< thought of Margaret, and angry indignation overpowered him; but this sam< thought brought another, and under its impulse he managed to control himself With a few hasty strides he was bj Brian'6 side, and, placing his banc rather heavily upon * his shoulder, h< asked, roughly: "Where are you going? Come home?1 "Home?" repeated Brian, startled intc understanding and- shrinking unde Bertie's glance. "Home to face her' Never. A few days ago I promised he: I would not t; uch another drop. Yes promised. A farce, wasn't it? Solemnly promised, iou see me To-nignu <j< home, you say. Go home to see he shrink from me! To see her blush fo me! To see Ah, heavens, no!" These words made no impression ox Bertie. "Don't add villainy to cowardice," h< said, with flashing eyes. "Come, I say If you have no self-respect, remembei her, and have at least the decency t< hide your disgrace under your own roof You shall not break her heart; you shal not ruin her life. I'll shoot you first." "Buin her life," echoed Brian, buryin; his face in his hands. "My God, I dlt not intend to ruin her life." Bertie said no more. Perhaps evei he felt some pity for Brian's eviden agony, or perhaps he feared that wordi now would express too much of the an ger which burned within him. Then are men who can never understand thi depths to which others can fall. Quite silent he walked by Brian, an< only left him when the door had close< upon him. From her own room Margaret hear< the faltering step, and knew that Briai had corue, but even the great relief o this knowledge did not bring her sleep All night she tossed restlessly, her min< ? ? 1. 1 - J -.-.v.*. 1 a prey to miserauie uouuis ?uu iiupciooi longings, and when morning came he face told its own story. [to be continued. 1 The Tsetse Fly. The few travelers whose lot hag led them through the lowlands of equatorial Africa have most them reported the tsetse fly as one of the most formidable impediments in the way oi colonization or even exploration ol these regions. Wild animals and human beings suffer only temporary irritation from its attacke, but domestic animals entering the fly districts are seized in the course of a few days with fever and wasting, and almost invariably die. The tsetse is a dipter, having a pale yellow abdomen and gray, stripped thorax. It is rather larger than the house fly. The mouth parts form a powerful piercing beak. From an account of the tsetse fly disease, by Surgeon-Major David Bruce, published in Nature, we iearn that tl.n at loot hocn on otfpmnt. mftdf to study the fly and its disease in a thorough and scientific manner. As far back as 1870 a Mr. St. Vineenl Erskino endeavered to show that the diseaBO was due solely to change oi grass and climate. Since then several other travelers have stated their belie] that the fly was not injurions, or, al any rate, that the ill effects of its bite were mncb exaggerated. At last the Natal Government has authorized Mr. Bruce to thoroughly investigate the tsetse-fly disease, and his paper is the outcome of tlje first three months' work. The Jesuits so far attained seem to indicate not the action of n specific viras, as was oripinally sup posed, but the transmission by thf tsetse fly of a bacterium or its prod nets. The investigation is proceeding along somewhat the same lines which Dr. P. Manson is following in endeav A onng lO XritUb tuc jjiajuiuuiuuj through the mosquito. A similar relationship was traced some years age between Texas fever, a disease of cat tie, in which certain parasitic bodies were found in the red blood corpuscles, and the cattle ticks. Among the new facts brought to light by Dr. Bruce'e work, one of considerable importance is the specific action which arsenic seems to have on the disease its administration causes a reductioi in temperature, a maintenance of th( normal number of red blood cells, anc a disappearance of the heematozoi from the blood.?Popular Science Monthly. Terrific Snake and Eel Fight. North Carolina comes forward witl afnrw nf a terrific Rnnks and ee fight. The snake was a bull moccasii about six feet long and two and a hal inches in diameter. The eel was i common yellow one, but of uncom mon size. When first seen the tw< sleek combatants were in shallow water, both standing erect with tail: twisted aronnd'roots. The snake hac evidently attempted to swallow it smaller opponent, but had found hin a slippery and wiry foe. They sooi came together again, however, and fo: several minutes the water was churnei as if by a side-wheeler. They formei a corkscrew shaped column on th water and each tried to sqneeze th life out of the other. Finding thi futile they commenced wrestling an< the eel scored a victory, throwing it opponent with ease. They both wen under the water and were lost to sight Presently something "a-panting am a-blowing" was heurd making for th shore, and to the astonishment of th the thunderstruck spectators the snak tnrew lisen out ox me water uuu ia gasping for breath on the bank, i glimpse was caught of the victoriou eel as it turned, just before reachio the bank and glided into its water element. The snake was dispatched and the spectators returned home t tell the glorious news.?Atlanta Cos 6titution. .TRAINING DOGS. i * ; kindness will accomplish MORE THAN FORCE, [ Amusing and Marvelous Feats That [ Are Taught to Clever Canines [ ?The Kind of Dog Makes t Little Difference. ? ~| T^EW of the thoueandB of people 1=/ who wildly applaud the amusJ ing, and at times almost mar~qT velous, feats executed by per) forming dogs have any idea of the ' time and patience required to teach I the animals. A reporter for the New > York Times was so fortunate as to run across a veteran dog trainer who had ju6t finished a successful European [ season. A few questions brought out > some most irteresting facts relative i to educated dogs and dog educators. > "It is a great mistake to 6nppose," I said this famous dog trainer, "that all ' dogs can be made to perform any trick, however simple, successfully. [ It is equally true?and too much em3 phasis cannot be put on the fact?that . perhaps not one man in every five thousand is fit to educate a dog. You may laugh at this assertion, but it is painfully true, nevertheless. First of all, a man who intends to be successful with dogs must really love the animals. Dogs, far more than any dumb brutes, are most susceptible to impressions and kind treatment. Let a dog once and for all understand that you do not wish to hurt or harm him and he will amply repay you for your labor. I would under no conditions have a dog handled by a man who did have the kindest of dispositions aB well as an almost inexhaustible amount of ft rv w h . J i ^ A VERY DIFF J patience. This given, let the work begin. j "Another illusion that the public 5 fondly clings to is that certain breeds r of dogs are more tractable and easier taught than others. This is nonsense. Barring, perhaps, the poodle, which breed has been used for circus purposes longer tUan any other, almost any other dog will do. When you choose a dog you must beforehand ; J? BALANCING ON A BOTTLE, t have made up your mind to what par? ticular trick or tricks you intend to train bim. A man in this business j j must be thoroughly posted on the peculiarities of each breed. It is beti ter to take a very young dog, say a puppy about six months old, for a pupil. After such a puppy has overt come its at first very natural timidity ; it develops an eager desire for rompi ing and playfulness. Here is the op3 portunity of the dog trainer. He now I begins a sort of dog kindergarten, i utilizing the animal's disposition to ) play as the vehicle of instruction. "Suppose, for instance, that yon want the puppy to leap through a j number of hoops. He is first taught w ?nn offoi. ft ho 11 rnllpil .ilnnsr ihft I i iiy iU" o 1 floor; this any dog will do spontani eously, and cunnot exactly be called f teaching. When the dog has brought i the ball back a number of times, and - gets thoroughly interested in the play, > the first active step to make him leap 7 is prepared. The ball is rolled a few | 3 feet from the wall, alongside of which | 1 is a low, movable partition. The dog ' a runs in the space between, and, of ' i course, must return the same way he i came. As soon as he reaches the lower r end, one or two hoops or low hurdles ] are placed in his way. In his frislii- j i ness the puppy rarely stops for such | e apparent trifles, but, all eagerness to ; get at the ball, guyly skips over or ! s through these obstructions. In this I j| way he is encouraged find taught to s take leaps, higher and higher, through t any quantity of hoops, being rewarded with a bit of cheese or lump of sugar 3 after any particularly successful pere formance. This thing has to be ree peated almost innumerable times, till e the dog, at a certain word or motion, ? A Vtniif. ttlirrhtAKf, y t'XUUULt'9 ilio basa nibuvMi. ~--0 \ hesitation or error. i "Xow, such a thing ns this is simply g the ABC of clog education. It is a y totally (Liferent matter to make a dog I, perform the most intricate tricks. The p natural position of the animal is restl ing on its four fest; any tricK in which he is permitted to retain thia . position is comparatively easy to make i him do. I have a fox terrier which I ] have taught to roll a ball or a small i cylinder in any direction?sidewise, ] BOLIiDJO THE GLOBE. back ward or forward. Now, the strangest part of this trick?that that which appears the very hardest is for the dog evidently the easiest. He will get up with his four feet on a ball not much bigger than an ordinary toy balloon and roll it everywhere, in whatever direction you wish, with evident pleasure and ease. But when he has to put two paws, whether front or hind, nn thn hall, and the other two on the floor, he does not do it nearly so well nor with any pleasure. This is because the animal does not feel so snre as when he stands with his four e==? ?'f ICULT TBICEL feet pretty close together. This terrier will roll a ball up or down a steep incline, while standing on it, with relish, bnt pat his ears back and look frightened to death if he is told to only use his forepaws in rolling it on the level floor. "While it is true that almost any trick can be taught by persuasion, still it is often necessary to use force. When a dog feels or instinctively knows that what he is being taught is in no wise dangerous, he is very tractable, and in most cases accomplishes what his master wishes him to do. When, on the other hand, you want him to iearn a trick that really involves danger, his dog reason, fully equal to that of many of the human race, quiokly and firmly rebels. It is really pathetic to see a dog almost ask you not to let him try such dangerous experiments. If you persist, then there is war. Here is where the dog educator must bring his genius in play. It is absolutely impossible to make a frightened dog listen to reason. You must first get him over his fright and next his sulkiness. To teach a dog to do the back somersault while standing on the floor is hard enough, but to teach him to do the sama trick from a table or from one chair to another is still harder. Force has to be used, and a smart cut of the whip at the critical moment will do wonders. But it will take a very long time indeed to make a dog perform any trick that involves danger, and when he does do it to perfection any amount of credit is due to his matter. A curious oircumstance in this connection is that once an animal has been taught fearlessly to oerform i "L. ? :ii & dangerous inuit ua >wu occmiugij forget most if not all his easier ones. Thus, I had a little dog which I finally succeeded in teaching to do the back somersault in the most approved fashion. He would just oe lief do tweaty as one, and did his trick with a precision that was marvelous. To my surprise, he was unable to do his former simpler ones, such as leap through a hoop covered with tissue paper, and other easy tricks. "It is not necessary and really does ' not pay to teach dogs any tricks that require force. By persuasion you may gee a multitude of various ones that to the public are equallv interesting. Teaching a dog to walk on his hind legs is comparatively simple, and TIIE CANINE SANDOW. amply repays the trouble. A9 soon as this is accomplished the combinations to which this trick may be turned are too many to be onumerated. Among the most noted performing dogs in the world may be mentioned a small poodle which is a perfect marvel in his way. Ho will walk up a staircase with eleven steps, carrying a burning lamp on a tray placed on his outstretchei front paws. This is wonderful enough, but after he reaches the little platform his master recieves the lamp and then after effeotionatoly patting this almost human dog, be sends mm down again. The poodle then stands on his front paws with his hind legs way up in the air, the burning lamp is placed on his head, and the dog walks down ten steps without permitting the lamp to fall. Another dog of the same breed is called the canine Sandow; he lifts weights, uses dumbbells, and finally lifts a large cannon, which is discharged while he holds it hanging in a 6trap from his mouth. "Another star in the canine world is a dog belonging to Mme. Dnre. This animal, whose name is Dick, has set Paris wild with his clever performances. His mistress has taught him to do the skirt and the serpentine dance, and he rivals Loie Fuller in popularity. This dog was sufficient to pack Theatre des Nouveautes with his wonderful tricks. His mistress arrays him in a magnificent robe or gown of flimy tulle, which is cut in the latest fashion. By cleverly arranging the dress around the front paws of the dog and fastening very light wires behind, the ekirt is held ir position. The orohestra strikes aj ^ . &>*. A-REAL DOG CAST. the Loie Fuller waltz, and Dick gracefully bounds upon the stage, always standing on his hind legs; after his most graceful bow to the spectator! he begins to dance, and his gyrations ~~~ ~ oV?n?f nf fVio trnnr?Arfnl. UXV C* liVViW OUWA V V* VMW .. I The electrio lights are tamed on, giving the color effects the same as iz Salome, and Dick waves his paws and swings nis skirts in the most bewitching fashion possible. Dogs as a rale detest to be dressed up, but when thej have overcome this aversion they maj be induced to represent anybody then owner wishes to caricature. "The chief things to remember when training dogs, or any other animal for that matter, is that gentleness and kind treatment will always beai the best results. Always celect t healthy, handsome puppy, and star! right in teaching some trick. Thic must be kept up till the animal reallj performs his duty automatically, anc only constant practice will make thif possible." ^ Fiercer Than Lions or Leopards. It always appeared to the write! that Sutton, the hoad keeper of thf Zoo, treated lions and some male tigers as if they were dogs, while ali the lionesses, the leopards, pumas anc most tigers were treated as cats, Lionesses he never ^toucned with hit hand, and leopards, exoept the sno^ leopards, very seldom; oat some oj the tigers and the male lions behaved in their dealings with him exactly ai if they were domesticated animals. Bears, he maintained, always became unsafe to handle after they were full grown, thongh often tame and friendly when cubs. Polar bears, on the other hand, he looked apon as always dangerous and quite untamable, baving a kind of incurable levity which makes them absolutely without respect or fear for man, even when they are kept in captivity. In the case of the larger cats, age and ill temper do not necessarily increase together. In all the years spent in the care of the large carnivora, he never received an injury. Yet, though never hnrt by the bears or lions, he was nearly killed by a zebra. The correct faots of this curious incident are as follows: The zebra, which was known to be very savage, was turned out into the " * ^ f jin yard, toe ending uuur uc IMTWJA HUU yard and its stall being poshed to, bat not fastened by the man whose dnty it was to do so. Sattoa was in the inner stall, patting in fresh hay, when the zebra heard him. He also heard it trot ap to the door, and the next moment he saw its mnzzle poshed against the crack which had been lefl between the edge oi the door and the post. It slid the door back in a moment, ran in, and, stooping its head, seized him below the knee and threw him violently on his back. It held or to his leg, biting so severely that it cracked his shin bone, thoagh Sotton, who was lying on his back kicked hard with the other foot. The other men drove it off with stable forks, bal the keeper was laid ap for thirteen weeks from the effects of the bite.? The Spectator. Chinese Sew Testament. The American Bible Society has obtained a fac simile of the New Testa ment, which translated into unt Chinese language, was presented tc the Empress Dowager of China on the occasion of the celebration of her sis tieth birthday. The original book if royal quarto size, 10x13x2, is printec with the largest of movable metalli< type, bound in silver boards, while nround each page is a border of gold. The volume in the possession of the American Bible Society is bound iu black morocco, and birds and bamboc in relief adorn the pages instead ol gold. In all other respects, however, it is a duplicate of the Empress Dowager's copy.?New York Advertiser. The Tugs of >'ew Yorfe. There are about 300 local tugs in New York Harbor and about 200 pas senger steamboats. The Supervisoi of tne harbor estimates that they pro duce about 500,000 cubic yards oi ashes annually. The War Department is seeking to establish bettei plans than exist for the disposition of this material, so that the regulations prohibiting the dumping of it in the waters of the harVor may be more effectually enforced.?New York Times. The transatlantic steamship Lucania established a record of 562 knots foi one day's sailing during her last voyage. Twenty-five wagon loads of immigrants have just arrived in the Big Hnrn nountrv. Wvomins:. THE TOV/ER AT TTBEE. I Built*by the United States as a P?-B tense Against Great Britain. One of the objects which invariably attract the interest of voyagers ap-'H proaching Savannah by sea is the tinyfl round tower a few hundred feet difl-M tant from the lighthonse at Tybeo^l ^ I Ill to web at ttbbb. 1 | Island, on the Georgia side. With the ' | aid of a good pair of marine glasses ' ! the tower can be described as built of j stone and apparently hoary with age. Indeed, the native Georgian has no > ; greater pleasure than to pour into the ' j astonished ears of Northerners the | , tale that it was ereoted by the Spanish ' about the same time as the structure at St. Augustine. Bnt the hard and1 rather unpoetio facts of the cass are) that the United States Government built the place as a defense against the British in 1812, tome eighty-four' years ago. It is termed, in military parlance, aMartello tower, being oopied from; - - s -i i.L.1 , similar defenses ereoiea aioag mai , English coasts when Napoleon waa] I threatening to invade Britain. The*. tower saw some little active service in I ' the Civil War, but, of course, was even} ( ; then not more dangerous or stronger; . than a stone dwelling.. , j I At present it is used as a reporting t and signal station, and during the' | ' bathing season it is a favorite visiting place for the guests of the fashionable, [ ! hotels at Tybee Beach, the noted Southern seaside resort. There are , i few objects on our coasts more strik- i . i ing and pioturesque than the tower at ? - - ? ?? i? , j Tybee, and it only laoss a iew xegouuD| ' ; of Spanish possessions, sieges, eto., to make it famous. : ,i -- ! 3 How an Antelope Kills a Rattlesnake. f | One of the worst foes the rattle-! k snake ever had on the Western prairies j : I was the antelope. This wary animal,j i ; allied to the deer species, is extremely: r ! timid and so afraid of man that onlji [ the best hunters could ever bag one,' i j But they had no fear of the rattler, ot.^ TrVion orip nf tbfi rentiles was en UUU TTUWM WMW w* ? countered it was speedily dispatched. The method of the antelope in , making war on the serpent was uniqnej 3 and heroic. The antelope walked > around the snake a few times awaiting [ j a favorable opportunity. When it 1 came there was a quick bound and the, , I sharp hoofs of the antelope came' I , down with deadly effect on the body ' | of the snake. With movements as ! j rapid as thought the antelope jumped: [ | out of danger only to spring back on' i its victim again and again until the! ,,-body of the snake was cut into mince-' i meat. [ j Old hunters say that it was rarely, > that an antelope was bitten in such an i , encounter with a rattler, and the i ; snake was always killed unless it found > ANTELOPE VERSUS RATTLESNAKE. a convenient prairie dog's hole int^H which it could crawl. The ehar^J i hoofs of the antelope cut like knive^H and after being struck once or twi<^H the reptile was too badly injured -? ?? offortti'irA rfinifitaiice. |9 [ UUCl auj VMVW?* w A Lizard That Dances. One of the interesting little anima^H that live in far-away Australia is tl^H dancing lizard. This cnrioas ch&p^H about three feet in length and we&rs^H pretty collar made for him by Moth ^| Nature. This collar is of a bright re^H yellow and blue mixture and is big an^H ) full of frills. He gets his name froi^H > his collar and is called the frille^H 3 lizard. He's not a bit pretty and h^H has a way of jumpiug around tha^H i gives one a peculiar fright if one haj^H 1 pens upon him suddenly. Althoug^D this frilled chap has four legs, h^H ) seem3 to like walking and dancing o^H his hind legs better than traveling o^H i all fours. He's as quick as i in bis movements, and lives on > insects that inhabit the trees of tb^H thick wood?. He could become (lancing master if he was bigger an^H would conduct himself with great^^H ease. We can forgive the frilled lizai^H almost anj of his pranks, but we can^H forgive him his long name, which AM chlamydosaurus kingi. Now, what you think of that? A Once Popular Singer. I Does any one remember a wonde^^B ful boy soprano named Richard Cok^^f who thirty years ago startled York and began as a chorister , Trinity Church and ended by sing^Ha , at Buckingham Palace? When IBB grew up he adopted the name of Rosa, developed a baritone voice, berited a fortune and is now adva^|H ing toward middle life and Uv^Hh quietly in London.?San Pranci^^H Chronicle. Tidal, one of the most fam^^H sculptors of France, was stone at the time when he executed som^HH hie most famous works. I