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F r4 vi Y L-e .6, s .. r, .a rr , at 4,4 - 14, 1884.NS N.C,TUSA' ERA $e pa , ' .tnueb years of hi $ap$s iept wtlhout.doing anything; Juodmoe to turn himsdlf round, settle _ - own and get into the ways of the place. 4 Then, as he still had twenty years to serve out, he said to himself one fine mrokning that it was shameful to lead so lazy a life, and that he must find some occupation worthy-not of a free man, for he was a prisoner-but simply of a man. Ho devoted a year to reflecting, to weighing. the different ideas which passed through his head, and examin ing what should be the definitive ob ject of his life. To train a spider? That was very old,well known ! Copy Pellison, pough ! flat plagiary I To count on his fingers the wrinkles on the wall? What! that was a ridicu lous and useless amusement; nothing worth whAo. He said to himself: "I must find something which would be at once curious, profitable and gratifying to my desire for vengeance. I must invent a task which will mpke the time pass, whi 'j will proddee some benefit and whiJ,iwill have the value of a protest." $ A fresh year was spent on this dis covery, and finally success rewarded so much perseverance. The prisoner lived in a veritable dungeon, whore the sun entered only for half an hour a day, and then only by a thin line like a single hair of light. The wretched pallet on which the un fortunate man re$ted his cramped limbs was literally nothing but a heap of damp straw. i "Now, then," he cried with energy, "I shall bother my jailers and bluff the law. I will dry my straw !" He first of all counted the stalks which formed his bundlo. There were 1,307. A poor bundle. He next made an experiment to find out how much time it needed to dry one of the straws. It needed three-quar ters of an hour. This made then, -altogether, for the 1,307 straws, a sum of 980 hours and fifteen minutes; or-taking it at half an hour sunlight a day-1,961 days. Assuming that the sun shone on an average, one day in three, he ar rived at a total of sixteou years, one month, one week and six days. At the end of six months this was what romained for him to do. Ho set to work then. Every time that the sun shone the -prisonoi held one of the straws in the ray and thus utilized all his sunlight. The rest of the time he kept warm beneath his clothes what ho had been a4le to dry. Ton yoar passed away. The prisoner had now on y a third of his damp bundle to sleep on, and had his chest stuff3d with the two other thirds which had gradually been dried. Fifteen years passed. Oh l joy, only 136 stalks of damp straw loft! Four hundred and eight days more and the prisoner would- be finally able to stand erect, proud of his work, victor over society, and,cry with the vengeful voice and satanic laughter of insurgents: "Ha! ha! You condemned me to damp straw in your dungeon! Then weep with rage! I lie on dry straw!" Alas! cruel fate was waiting in am bush for its prey ! One night when the prisoner was dreaming of -his future happiness, in his ecstasy he made furious gestures, knocked over Ze pitcher, and the water fell on his chest. All the straw was wetted. 'What was.te be done now? Begin again the Sisyphus task ? r ass another fifteen years in getting hits of sun into * bits of straw. And his discouragement! You, tho lucky ones of the world, who.give up a pleasure if you have to,fako ttventyjfive testo etit, dare you'throw tho'flrst But, y.ou wil-say,,ho -had only a year and a half.to wait! And do you'~rckon for nothojighis wounded pride, his abortive hopes? What, this man shall have wvoitW'di 4teen years in order to alcopson a'bundle of dry straw, and-then consent to'loavo his pr~igon with bits of damp straw on his har! Never! There is nothing be tween self-respect and lying down in the gutter. Eight days ad eight nights .ho de bated in angdish, sti-uggling with de spair, trying to fhmid a footing again in the annihilation which ovorwhelmedl him. Ho ended by surrendering and con fessing himself vanquished. He had lost the battle. One evening ho fell on his knees, crushed, despairing. "My God I" he said with tears, "I ask Thy forgivencess for being without courage to-day. I havo suffered for thirty years, 1 have felt my limbs decay, my skmn wither, my eyes wear away, my blood become p)alo, my hair and toothI fall out. I have fought against hunger, cold, solitude. I had 0on0 desire which sustained my offo.rts, I had one ob ject in my life. NSV my dlesire cannot possibly be satisfied. Now my object hias fled forever. Now I am dishon *ored. Pardon mnc for deserting myi ~post, for leaving the b,attle, for runnin~g Away like a coward. I can no more." Ton in a fit of indignation lhe re "No," he cried, "no, a thousand times no! It shall not be said that I have lest my life for nothing. No; I am not ,conquered! No; I shall not desert! No;- I am not a coward!i No; I will not lie a minute longer on the damp straw of the dungeons! No; society shall not got the better of me P' Az,d the prisoner died during the night, vanquxxd like Brutus, grand as Cato. lie h.ul died of an heroic indigestion. He hadi eaten all his straw. Force of Habit. [Milwaukee Sentinel.] Photography is being uscd to de termine the height of clouds, but the p hotographers cannot break the force of . habit, and when they point their cam eras at the sky they always say: "Now, look pleasant, please, and don't adr. PAPER LUMBER PROTCTION. A Novel MahrtiC t,or iatura 6Uu. tri-l[ta many Desirable *1sal ties. [New Yo-k Cor. Chicago Tribune.] A tall, elderly man, with a round, pleasant face, took from the marble mantel shelf of a room overlooking Printing House square yesterday after' noon a section of what appeared to be walnut board. "That is paper hun ber," he said. "You may not be aware that a process has been invented fdr utilizing paper pulp in the manu facture of a substitute for nattiral lumber. A mill has been orected in a western town for the purpose of manu facturing artificial lumber from paper stock, and a number of capitalists have taken hold of the matter. We are thoroughly convinced of the perfect practicability of paper lumber in the manufacture of all articles at present from wood. It is only a question of a very short time when paper lumber will come into genoral use. I feel confident that it will prove much cheaper than wood, equally as durable, and fully as good an article for fine work." Attention was directed to several articlos of cabinet ware made of the material. Two of these were ordinary parlor tables, one of which was finished in the natural grain of the lumber, re sembling somewhat the peculiar mot ted appearance soon in some choice hardwoods. The surface of the table was varnished and highly polished, pro senting a smoothness equal to fiko plate glass. The other table was fnilshed in exact imitation of rosowood. A panel door was also shown, Tho finish resem bling mahogany. A couple of jewelry or ladies' work boxes, made after an elegant pattern and highly finished, were also produced, showing the adapt ability of paper lumber in the construo tion of ornamental articles. "The paper board," continued the gentleman alluded to, "is susceptible of taking the finest polish as well as any tint, shade, or color. The lumber is made principally of the pulp of wheat, ryo, oat straw, and other vegetable fibres, combined with chemical ingredi ents and cements. It is formed of lay ers about one-quarter of an inch in thickness, and those layers are pressed together by powerful machinery, and thus rendered as hard as the hardest wood, besides much more dense. The boards are also rendered waterproof in varying degrees, according to the pur pose for which they are to be used. The material is as durable as time, and can ho sold at a good price for almost half the price of ordinary pine lumber. It will take any finish, and in this respect alone is equal to the finest hard woods. Moreover, it can be mar 1)leised in imitation of any kind of mar ble, both in respect to a high degree of polish and an exact imitation of grain. It will not warp and can be rendered perfectly waterproof, if desired, thus making it suitable for the construction of burial caskets. It makes justas solid a surface as any wood, and may bo made of the hardness of stone. As a substitute for wood in the construction of buildings it possesses qualities of perfect adaptation. It will make the finest material in the world for roofing, not excepting slate or iron. It can be sawed,, split, or planed, and boards made of it are porfcctly smooth and flat from end to end on both sides, without any knots, cracks or blemishes of any kind commonly met with in wood." "Do you think that the supply of paper stock is suflicient to permit the general use of paper lumber as a sub stitute for wood ?" "Why not? Tfhe production of straw alone is suflicient. It takes 100 years to grow 20,000 feet of natural timber on all ace of ground. This is accord ing to official statistics. On the other hand an acre of ground will produce every year straw enough to make 2,000 feet of artificial lumber, and hence in a hund red years it will produce 200,000 feet, ten times the quantity of natural lumber. "What do we propose to do? It is our purposO besides entering into the manufacture of paper lumber on an ex tended scale, to lease machinery to other parties desiring to embark in the industry." ___________ A gentleman residing inl tile city of Binghlampton has ill his employ an aged negro whose early life was spent southl of Mason and Dixon's line, and as chat tel or p)rop)erty. TIhmo gentleman is a keen observer of hluman nature, and, enjoying a good thing, has drawn the old negro out on many imp)ortant ques tions of theology, law, and logic. In a conversation some time ago lie said to him: "8-, I have heard that all colored peop)le woul steal. Is it so ?'" "No, 'tain't so ; 'tis a lie." "Well," said the gentleman, "when you were a slave, didn't you sometimes take a chicken or a turkey from your master, and eat it." "Yes," said 8-., "sometimes took a chicken, or a duck, or a turke,y, but, Lord bless you!- dat wa'n't stealmn'." "Why not?" "WYell, I tell you: Dat chicken lie was prop)erty, I was p)rop)erty, and if prop erty took property to support p)rop)erty, dat wa'n't stealin'-d'yo see?" Could any logic be more subtle and conclusive ? CurIous Fungus Growvth. [Exchango.]1 Sir Joseph Banks, theo celebrated nat uralist, once had a cask of wine whichl on tasting was found too sweet. It was therefore locked up in the cellar to ripen. There it remained for three years, probably duriung the time ho was wvith Capt. Cook iun his voyage around the world. At the end of that poeriod ho dircted his butler to ascertain the state of the wine; but the cellar door could not be0 opened Onl account of some powerful obstacle within. The door was cut down, when theocellar was found to be completely filleod with a fungus so denso and firm as to require an ax for its removal. It was then dis covered that the fungus had consumed every drop of wine and raised thle empty cask to the ceiling. I atke bout eight tons of iron to make thme wheels, axles, bolts, nuts, etc. of an ordinary freight car. ' ' Every flith Morman i.. -a .oy . Iow Certain Animale Change Vol*] (Newfork Su,) "Is the change a 'physiologics secret?" - "Not at all. We havl well-defines ideas concerning it. In'the first place we know that many animals chang( their color at a moment's notice, espee ially fishes and reptiles. Among the former the stickleback, porch, sorra nus an.d dolphin are the most remarka blo. In many this change is evidentl3 made at the opti, of the fish. This is also true of the reptiles, and now foi the explanation. Here is a micro scopical section of a frog's skin. You see it consists of two distinct portions the epidermis and the outis. The for mer is made up of cells, while the lattoi contains nerves, fibres, and cav. ities for coll elements. Thest cells are filled with pigment oi coloring matter, and are known ai ohromatophosos, and to their contrac tion and expansion is du.o the oolorink of various animals, for all, from mar down, have them, differing in color it different individuals and in varioui parts of the body. Different colors o degrees of intensity soon' to cause i contraction or expansion of the colls Thus, in the gobins, the pigment cells that are yellow when distended, as sume an orange-colorod huo when con tractod, and the orange or red coll when shrunk become brown or black as the case may be. Now, when a fisl that habitually lives on a white botton passes on to a black one the change i conveyed by the eye to the brain, an< telegraphed, so to speak, to the pigmen cells by- way of what are called th, sympathetic nerves, and the change i produced. "How do we know this? By watchinj a blind fish pass from one colorei Vround to another. In such a cas there is no.chango at all. The eye i the medium, yet there is probably n intelligent ap)preciationi on the p)art c the animal that the change has bee made. The experiments with the syn pathetic nerves are veg; remarkabl By cutting one a fish has 0 -on show spotted on one side and stripid on th other, and, in fact, the coloring i.- at th will of the skilled anatomist. The an< lis, our common southern lizard, tht seems to take the place of the chanm leon, is the most wonderful in its powe of changing color, adapting itself to variety of huee." Never Joke if You Would be Grea [Washington Critic.) When The Toledo Telegram say that "if S. S. Cox had never mado joke he might be the next speaker c the house," it is only putting in set tontious form which is heard in man forms all about Washington every hou nowadays. Why is it that a man wli adds to great power and clearnesf. ii the discussion of groat questions th ability to amuse as he goes along shoul< be so underrated by the public? It is singular fact, but fact it is, and alway has been. Toni Corwin was probabl the greatest man Ohio ever produced but because he could amuse as well a instruct lie was always sneered at b the owls of politics as a "joker." ] took two elections and a martyr's grav to give Abraham Lincoln any othe reputation than that of a joker and stor teller. When Oliver P. Morton was startin in 1856 upon that wonderful career the mado him one of the most conspicuot figures of the war pcriod, lie con monced by seeking to enliven that e: traordinary logical eloquence (if such term is admissible) possessed by him i such groat degree by anecdote and wil ticism. Ho had a hanv turn thatwa At Terre Haute, after a brilliant cfro that commended itself to his followeri a venerable and famous politician toc the young orator to task: "Young man, if you want to be ri garded as a great man, a great leade: never tell a story, never utter a joka look solemn and pound the table." Death on a Pale Hlorse. [Nowv York Cor. Chicago Journal.] "Death is on a p)alo horse, racin right alongsido4hf Eolo," said- a mana my elbow. Wo were at the Brighto: Beach races. The speaker was a physician. TIh visible horse that lie referred to, Eel was the property of Freddio Gebhard1 the Langtry- famous young man, an< was winig the race. "What do you mean about seein De:athi as a rider ini this run ?" I askod "Simp)ly that ho is contesting wit the jockey who is mounted on Eolo, was the reply. "That fellow's name McLaughlin, you say? WVell, I wa over at the weighing stand when h was p)reparing to ride. A jockey ha to be a light-weight, for horsn owvner don't care to weigh down their boast: This is a dreadfully cold day. Wo'r shivering in thick overcoats, with th collars turned up. McLaughlin ha nothing on under his thin silk jackel HeI hasn't allowed himself an oxtr pound in flannels. To all intents liei exposed naked,1 not only to the 10 temperature, but to the tremendoue wind made by the speed of the raca Evory time he rides unclothed like tha lie takes a b)ig risk of pneumonia. That why I say that D)eath is running a pal horse by his side, and is just as like] as not to beat him to-day." They WVantedl Him Twice. (Walli Stree't News.] A Nebraska sher-iff' who wvas on traini coming east from Omaha th other (lay fell into conversation with Nowv Yorker, and fially admitted tha he was in pursuit of a broker. "A broker- -for wvhat?" "Oh, one of our smart towns was get ting albond so fast that it must need send to Chicago for a broker.I wanted himt bad and he came. Hi oponod an o11icc, put in a ticker, dis played( qunotations, and made abou $20,000 in six weeks. "Howv?" "Well, that's what they want hin the second time for-thdy want to as. Ihow." "Has it affected thme town?" "WVell, a little. I thirik that if chap should come through thore offer ing to 8011 tickets to heaven at $2 fo: the trip lie could net got a man to pu down a nickel in advance. They'd ox poet to be side-tracked somowheor Iabout half-waiy." BRAIN-WORKERS' ODD METHODS. Strange Sourees or ftsvixation--Row Surroundtlgn Affect the ugnetid Rind. [Courier-Journal.] Some amusing features from thelivee of celebrated men have been broughl together by a German writer. Aubei wrote on horseback; it was not possible for him to write in any other place than in Paris, however beautiful anothoi residence might be, and however man, other attractions it might offer. Adam composed the best when he lay with hie clothes on in bed, and showed as great antipathy to all landscapial beauty as love to his cats. The same antipathy tc all natural beauty is charged to Doni zotti, who always slept when he weni on a journey, when he should havc given his attention to the romantic scenery of Switzerland and Italy. Elmarosa could not writer without hav ing a lot of friends around -him, with whom he kept up an active conversation about art matters. Saohmi's train of thought was inter, rupted when his cats did not play thou antics upon his writing desk. Sart could only become inspired in a roon without furniture, and which was diml3 lighted. Spontini could only compos( in the dark, and Meyerbeer composei best during violent thunder storms under the roof of his house. Salier gained his inspiration while he walkoi quickly through the streets filled witi 1 a human throng, meantime eating : t great quantity of confections. Haydn in order to compose, sat in a soft arm chair, with his gazo directed to heaven Gluck, composed in the opel air, best in gio glaring sunshinE He liked champagno by hi e work, and gesticulated very violently s as if lie were an actor on the boards D Handel wandered in the churdih-yard f and when he wished to become inspired i he sat himself down in one corner of it which was shaded by weeping willowf 3. Paesiello composed in bed, and did no n leave it until ho had finished a whol e operatic scone or act. Mehul was o great worshiper of flowers, and ofte ., fell into silent reverie in observin t them. Ho felt happiest in a quid gi, .den. r Mozart gained his inspiration b a reading Homer, Dante, Petrareh, Schi: lei, Ossian and Victor Hugo. Schille inspired his muso by the smell of rol ten .\pples, which he kept constantly i his drsk; besides this ho liked to liv 8 amid surroundings corresponding t the subject upon which he worked When he wrote the last act to "Mar Stuart" ho had his servants clothed ii black; and so long as lie worked of r "Wallenstoin" lie neglected no roviov a or other military spectacle, and a home his wife must sing battli 0 pieces to him. Goetho loved to hav< plastic works of art before him as hi a wrote. It is known that in his crea B tion of his Iphigenia, lie had the imag< Y of an antique female before him, ii ' order to see if that which lie mado hi a heroine say would suit the features be t fore him. Joan Paul replenished his ideas whilo r taking a walk, and drank a glass of bee: now and then on the way. In writinj y he loved the strong smell of flowers Herr von Kleist worked with great difi 9 culty, and when he made poetry, it wa; as if lie had a conflict with an invisibl< fiend. Just the opposite was the casi with Father Wieland. In making hi a poems he trilled a lively song, an sometimes would spring away from hi work and cut a caper in the air. Kotzc buo, in the composing of his dramas wa also actor. He himself acted singi scenes in his study. It is related tha when Sand murdered him, his little sor as he saw him reel and then writhe upo: the ground, cried to his niother, "Sec mamma, father p)lays comedy again!1" ~!Burger, the immortal poet of Leonort is said to have whistled street songs ai lie wrote his verse on paper. His con vorsation in such momeonts is said t have been obscene. Holderlin wne often found crying when lie compose t poems. Similar things are said of th a French romance writer Lafontaine. R.i wife once found him before his writini e desk swimming in tears. "Oh, it is to ,sad," lhe said. "It,don't go at all," h sobbed; "I am still in thme first volume. Matthison wrote his poems by moon light, while standing at the windon~ Lamartine wrote his best things in thm .morning, before breakfast, while sittin h before the fire. "A contemporary of Dumas wrote thius a "Thme writing desk of Alexander Dunma a presents a picture of classical disorder e The study floor is covered with book s and papers, behind whiich he is soated s formally barricaded. Also a quantit: i. o.f (logs, cats, p)oultry, pigeone, an< e simging birds are to be seen around o and these ho feeds, strokes, and keep s out of mischief while writing. In th .background stand a number of printer' a devils waitino- for copy, and bookseller a and such people, who have busines ~v with, him. He writes very rapidly, an( s carries on, very oftoni, a conversation al .the same time. Ho is very negligent ii t, his dress." The Children Namedt the Town. e [Chicago Times.] A pioneer who once owned the lani on which thme town of Mioc stands, tell how the lace received its peculiai iiame. "I had a wife once," says thb pioneer, "and I loved her dearly. HeC name was Maria; bunt the children, noi 0 being able to pronounce it, called bi ~' 'Mio,' and finally the neighbors got t< t calling her ' Mio.' When the count> seat was located, amid I called it Mio - after my dear wife, who had died--th< -surveyor thought that a final 'o' woulh S make the name look better; and so th< name is spelle3d 'Mioe.' " - Who wVas shyleenl? [Glasgowv Clol.] (Dramatis Persom:o -Patorfamiilial and his "Only Hope," agedl 12. Th< latter is busy at his lessons.) ' Only Hope (suddenly looking i> from his books)-"Pa, who was Shy. lock ?" .Paterfamilias (with a look of surprise r and horror)--"Great goodness. b)oy, you attend church and Sunday school every week and don't know wvho Shy. lock was? G*o and read your bible, airV' AN HOUR WITH MODJESKA. A Delightful Chat With the Charms. tag Actress---Weusble Talk Co. eerning Real Life. ("Mary Jane" in Courier-Journal.l It was on a murky, ugly afternoon, a real Cincinnati dirty-day, which cannot be appreciated unless soon, and the more seen the less appreciated it is, and we went down to the Burnet house en cased in umbrellas, gossamors and the grunts. We sent up our cards, and in a few minutes were conducted to the famous suite, occupied in years past by Sontag, Nilsson, Noilson, Jenny Lind, and whore, last year, I was so delightfully entertained by Miss Mary Anderson, and there we found Modjeska, her hus band and a lady of our acquaintance were seated about - a little table. The count roso to meet us. I was presented to madame Ia countesso, who shook hands with a real, good old-fashioned hand-shako, and in a minu e was at the table talking and being talked to, as though we had known each other since childhood. "Which of your plays do you like best, madame ?" asked Dickey. "None of them; none of them. Im tired of it all, and want to rest. I like to play, but I don't like the rehearsals," and her line face showed a weariness which made mu think df a tired child looking for its mother. "The houses have not been good in Cincinnati, aind you are depressed," said her husband. "WVhen the clouds are dispelled and the Run shines it will be quite different." And we all laughed over her woes; and she laughed, too, and told us how lonesome it was at the matinee, and how, if it had not been for a few familiar faces, she would hardly have had heart to go through her lines. The conversation drifted along in a delightfully aimless way, full of intor est, as would be the floating down a river winding among beautiful hills and dividing lovely valleys, carried along by the current whither it would. e Finally Modjesk:a's own work came up, n and gracefully and without egotism she 3 talked of it. It happened that "Frou I Fron" was the play spoken of, and . ickey said: "Do you think, madame, that Frou Y Frou loved her husband ? Do you play it with this feeling?" r "Oh, no," she answered. "Fro Frou was a spoiled girl, who knou nothing but to be loved. Careless and thoughtless she wont about until Louisc ) camo upon,the scone, and she thought - her husband loved her sister. I think ' she loved her child as a result of in 1 stinet, but her surroundings and her as 1 sociates led her away from all such thoughts. When at last she left her home it was not done though jealousy, but anger and for spite, and sho at once realized what she had done, and the woman, wife and mother developed in her, but too lato to repair -be wrong she had done. She was still Frou Frou, however, and in the death agony the same spirit was with~ her, and she was but a child." "Do you play those parts with other than the feeling of the artist ?" asked Dickoy. "Not always; but sometimes one can not help but feel what one is doing." "What of the ofl'ect of applause and good audiences ?" asked Mrs. W. 3 "They are much, very much." "Do you approve of recalls? Don't I you think tlt spoil the illusion pro duced by the play?" said I. - "No, indeed. I appreciate the com 9 pliment and-"like it. I think the ilh- - 3 sion is mostly gone when the curtain t goes down, and the appearance of the player after that has no -ba'd efibcts. ] I do not, however, approve of recallaslur ', ing an act." "How do American audiences coin ,pare.with foreign audiences in enthu s siastic demonstrations ?" asked Diekoy. - "Not at all. Why, when I made my a first appearance in San F"rancisco, I s was told that such applause was rare-, I and I could scarcely understand that e I had not macdo a failure. In England s audiences arc cold, but I received five I recalls mn London; in Dublin it was al o) mostdlike home; in France audiences o are less demonstrative, bunt in Italy a in Poland, especially, they are wild. - One night I was recalled twenty-two .times, and I was so tired that I had to a have a chair on the stage and finally I g had to ask the manager not to-let tihe curtain be rmpg up again. That was a :little too much, bnt it was very flatter s ing." .We spoke of Mary Anderson, anld I s told her how I met her in that room, ,and 1how cordial she was. Mod jeska , praised her greatly, and tihe counIt dwelt 1 glowingly upon 1her beauty. They had ,soonl boer in London, aind I asked if she a thought thle fair Ket uckian was cold as tile crities hiad pronounced her to ho. "No wonnu told,"silo said. "Thloughl I thlink oso mutst know something of tile feelings sho~ would portray to (do it with the best eoflect. No girl who is p)erfet inl ber pIhysical developnment and is well and strong can be coild. It is her nature to have a hleart, and whlen it is touched, then the feeling will be0 dIevelopedl andl her womantood wvill 1)0 beautiful. T1heroe is a right 0110 some p llace ill tile worldi, and whein lhe comes the coldiest womlan is warmed." "Ah," said a younig nlewspaper man Ijulst arrived, "I think some girls are awf ully freezing cold. I have been frozen out more thanu once." "Oh," laughed madlame, "that wias 1)0 cause you wore the wronig 0one, thait's all." "Woo is mnc!'' lhe sighed. I Love and friendship wci-e discussed, "I thlink," said Mrs. W., "that friend ship with no thought of love can exist between a man and woman." "A very young man and young woman ?" said I,.interrogatively. "Well, no; not that kind," she said, and they all smiled, "The love of a hiusb)and r.ad wife," said Modjceka, "is the purest friendship, and the husbands and wvives who are friends, as well as lovers are the hap piest." "Love is selfish," said I, "the highest and best fornm of selfishness." "Yes," said the count, "it is." "I know," said I, "that a woman who in in love thinks first of her own happi Inos, and what may be apparent sacri. fico is haor ploeasure. Bhn can't 1mhappy only in being miserable ,for one 4he loves. Her love is subjootive as much as it is objective." "Is a mother's love selash?" asked madame. "To an oxtent, yes," said the count and I simultaneouy "Oh, don't talk so," said she. "Xou would make us all creatures of selfish ness and destroy whatever beauty of spirit we may have. I know I am self- ' ish, and overy morning when I got up I resolve to bo 1etter, but it seoms very hard to fulfil my promises to myself." "Ali," said her husband, with the I look of a lover: "vou are not malsio. t tnow y. better than that," and their 4 eyes met in a way which made my old maiden heart go out warm to them, as old people hold out their hands in blessing upon )"appy lovers. And so the tolk ran on fo'r an hour full of intorosting topies, full of variety and having nothing in it of that unde sirable constancy of stage talk, so often marring the conversation with and among actors. .A more delightful call I never made, and a more womanly woman does not live than Modjeska. She calls her husband "Charlie" in the brightest sweethearticalist way, and there is none of that disagreeable gush one sees btween married nooulo. anA which one knows is only a li<ttle dash of sunshine to fool people into going out without an umbrella only to be caught in a storm. They are an ideal couple, as much in love as when years ago they joined hearts and hands. They aro both highly intellectual and both accomplished, and upon neither has there over been cast the slightest shadow of reproach. As an actress Modjeska, I think, ranks first of all English-speaking women. She has a nature loving, warm and true, and it imbues all the characters she assumes and gives to them such lights and shadows of fooling, that every listener follows her action and expression as if they were parts of him self. She presents in her acting an 'deal realism which is the ultimatum of the highest dramatic art, and she pos sesses to the fullest extent a quiet force of expresssion, which is intensified by its very greatness. She can bring tears to the eyes of her auditors without say ing a word; she is, indeed, a heart pan tonimist. In her love scones there is a purity as beautiful as love itself, and her own high character permeates all the charactors she assumes. This is my idea of art, and this is why I say tho true woman alone cnn be the true artist. However, life is short, which this letter is not, as Dickey would say, and 1 must bid this delightful couple adieu, with a world of good wishes. As we went away we shook hands three several times (Modjoska has a beautiful hand), and the soft young newspaper man stepped back for an istant, while I overh eard him say: "Ah, madame, your golden hair and brown eyes are like my swootheart's." "Have you only one?" she said, archly. "Only one, madamo." "Ah, most unusual man," she replied, and the door shut us out from all but pleasant memories. The Orchestral Baton. I Home Jourual.] The bator was first used at the King's theatre by Chelard. lie cano to London at Monck Mason's invitation with a German company in 1832, and always conducted with a baton. Before that the leader alone w%'ith his violin bow con ducted the orchestra. Sir Michael Costa saw at once the advantage of the baton and adopted it from that time. But the practice was much criticised both in the case of Weber and Mendelssohn, who used it in conducting for the Phmilhiar monie society. Prof. Ella tells me that Mondi(elssohni, ini company with Moyerbeer and Costa, were dining with him the (lay after the Philhiarmionic rehearsal, amnd was so mumch annoyed at the impertinent remarks made by the leaders of the orchestra, wvho criticised his use of the baton, that ho was seri ously thinking of giving it up, when Ella exclaimed, with his usual strong Jense: "My dear Mendelssohn, do no such thing; don't pay any attention to them; if you give up) the baton to please them, it will be put down to cowardice on your p)art." Both Costa and Moyer beer urged the leaders to set a good ox amlo by accop)tin1g the baton. This decided Mendelssohn, and he retained the use of the baton, which was also used by Moscheles, and has been re tained over since. The Bonaniza Kings. [St. Louis Globo-Democrat.] Flood, Fair, and Mackoy are brawny, full-blooded men, with good color, heightened by good living andl drinking. They dross carelessly and have all the California characteristics-freo and easy in address, hail fellows wvell met with all their friends. Sharon, on the contrary, could sit for a picture of a good Connecticut deacon. He is thin, angular, undersized, flat-chested, with str-aight, lank hair, whitened by age,1 combed down smooth over his small head ; a pallid face, almost destitute of exp)ression, and a mustache that adds nothing to the countenance, When he looks at you, however, you notice a pair of eyes as sharp as those of a weasel, and the quiet gestures show that the small body has a good deal of nervous energy. Ho always dresses in plain. black broadcloth, of ministerial cut, and this, with his white necktie amnd silk hat, adds to his clerical appearance. lHe is one of the best poker-players on the Pacific coast. The "WVIshbone" WeddIng. The "wishbone" wedding has become the correct thing. The couple stand beneath a floral wishbone. After the ceremony the bride and groom are given the wishbone to pull. The tug results in a break somewhere, and who ever- holds the long piece is absolved from gettin~g up to build fires in the Keeps Up Ills correspondence. Mrs. Tabor tollsi a reporter in Den vor that her husband, the ox-sonator, now away from home, sends her "a postal card>oevery day and once a wo a sweet letter." Tennyson's income is about.$20,000) per year. [Temple:Bar.) When the is growing gy, ad the is rollin. sit and l acro the bay to t bo town of . But Bongs tf I n W bells of -Lyn. 'h folks are chatting gay, and I bear their mrydin iut I look au pk aax the bay to h. - bonny town,o. Lynn; He told - Upon 'R broWfj ro wait and watch' c w n the t s was rolling in. )h, I see him pulling strong, pulling o'er the bay to mne, SI har his joal song, aqg his merry face Ige; And niow be's at the , My bonny. love anii'1 And h's coin up the sea-washed steps with hand outthed-to me. D my love, your cheek isoold, andyour hand are stark and tl?inl Db, hear you not the bells of old, the bonny bells of Lypn1 Oh, have you naught to say Upon our wedding day? Love, hoar you not the wCw,g bells acre. the Bay of Lynnf ) my lover, speak to meI and bold me fast, mine ownf For I fear this rising sea, and these winds and waves that moan! But never a word he saidl He is.dead, my,lovo is deadi Ah me 1 ah met I did but deain; and I am all alone klone, and old, and gray; and the tide Is rolling in; 3ut my heart's away away, away, in the old graveyard at ln! 3OJOURNER TRUTH'S SAYINGS. ier Powerful Outburst at a Woman'., Righte Convention. [Chicago Tribune.] Mrs. Frances D. Gage has recorded )mo of Sojourner Truth's impressive )utbursts on the public platform in the 'History of Woman Suffrage." It was it a woman's rights convention at Akron, Dhio, in 1851. During its sessions old 3ojourner-for she was 80 years of age then--"sat crouched against the wall :n the corner of the pulpit stairs, her sun-bonnet shading her eyes, her el bows on her knees, her chin resting on her broad, hard l)alns." Few dared to have her speak, many implored Mrs. Gage, who was president of the convention, to prevent her from speaking. They didn't want their cause "mixed with the abolitionists and nigger.y." But the time came when Sojourner Truth felt it borno in upon her to speak: "She moved slowly to ao front, laid her old bonnot at her foot.ad turned her great speaking eyes to men."isas came from the a co. But sho lookoa Ihe. rdgq ioval down. Nearly six foot high, her head was thrown back, and her eyes "pierced the upper air like one in a dream." At her first words there was a profound hush. She spoko in deep tones, though not loud, which reached every oar in the house. lore are some of the words she iaid, and they will show hpw powerful mnd original a character was this full blooded African woman, and hov justi [ied her fame was: "Dat man ober dar. say dat womin iced to be helped "into carriages and ifted ober ditches, and to hab de bee' ?laco oborywhar. Nobody obor helps no into carriages or obor mud piles, or ibs me any bos' place!" Andraising iorsolf to her full height and her voice ,o a pitch like rolling thunder, she msked, "And a'n't I a woman? Lo,k at ny arm I" (and she bared her right arm to the shoulder, showing her tremon Ious muscular power.) "I have plowed nd planted, and gathered into barns, nd no man could head me. And a'n't woman ? I coukdi work as much- and xat as much as'a man-when I could get t-and bear the lash as well. And 'n't I a woman? I have borne thirteen ~hilern, and seen 'em mos' all sold off to ;lavery, and when I cried out with my nether's grief none but Jesus heard me. And a'n'f I a woman? "Den dey talks 'bout .dis ting.ingle iead-what dis doy call it? ("hIftel beet," whispered some one near.) Dat's t, honey. What's dat got to do wid womin's rights or nigger's rights ? If smy cup won't hold but a pint and yourn tiolds a quart, wouldn't ye be mean not bo let me have my, littlo half ,neasure -- u? Den dat little man in black, dar -he says womin can't have as much eighits as men, because Chr.ist wa'nt a woeman! Whiar did your Christ como rom ?" Roellinmg thunder co,uld not xavo stilled that crowd as did those leop, wonderful tones, as she stood ~horo with outstretched arms and eyes >f fire. Rlaising,her voice still louder, iho repeated: '"W-har did your Christ como from? Fjomn God and woman! M an had nothin' to do wid him I" iiyang to FI"nish a Book. {Elmnond About's Oration.) And I conclude that the good. Dumas has lost none of his freshness since the bimo, alas I rather long, when he was sear causing the death of one of our schoolfollows. He was a Spanish boy, m boarder at Massin's. He ha d lost his ippotite, ceased to sleep, and was slowly wasting away, like one suffering rom home-sickness. Sarcey, who was n his class, and who had struck up a rriendship with him, said to him one la~y: "You wvant to see your mother ?" lo," rephiod the child, "she is dead." 'Your father?" "No, ho would beat me." "Why, then, do you want so much to go baQh to Spalh'9" "To fin ish a book I began during the holi lays." "What was it calleda?" "Los Tree Mosqueteros." The poor boy, gentlemen, was home siclt for "The Three Musketeers." He was waily mured. Cremation in Portugal. (St. Paul Pioneer Press.] The cromationists have won a decided victory in Portugal. After a long and bitter fight betwoen the advocatedl of - the plaz, led by p hysicians and scientists gener.ally, and the opponents, who were obiedly priests, the government ha. docided to make cremation optional . with the peop1)1 generally, ani comn pulsory in all eases of death ocourring ini, distriucts infected with the plague. fho governmont is said to favor a general compulsory cremation law, but 4 a restrained from making so radiosal hange ont of fear of the ohurol