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lewis >i. grist, proprietor, j An Jndependent ,dfamil!j .Ijeicspaper: ,J;or the |)romofion of the |)olifiqal, jsociat, Agricultural and (Commercial Jnterests of the #outh. J TERMS?$2.00 A YEAll IX ADVANCE. VOL. 40. YORKVILLE, S. O., WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 14, 1894. NO. 7. . . ~ ? ** * ?: ? * | IMPORTING A ... 13Y 1>AN I>< Copyrighted, 1893, by American Press . PROEMIAL. "Congratulate me, old man, I am now a Mayflower of the Mayflowers!" cried my friend Sam Johnson. "A Mayflower?" queried I. "Yes, a Mayflower. Not in person, of pnursp hnt hv marriase. It shall now i be my care to perpetuate on the soil of America the line of the noble house of , Johnson. At last I am 'in the swim.' J and blue is the hue of my blood!" "What! Married! Have you deserted our noble band of bachelors?" "Yes, and am now of the noble band ! of benedicts." "In what bright spot in the Golden State did you find your Mayflower blooming?" ,-r "Why, my dear fellow, I've not been in California at all. I've been east. Bless you, old man, since leaving the Comstock I've crossed the 'briny'?have been over to the land of our fathers." 1 "You don't mean to say that you've brought a bride from over the sea, when we have in our own America the best and most blooming beauties the world can boast?" "No, no, my dear boy! No, my bride is not from over the sea, but to win her cost me a trip to the land of my ancestors?to old England, where peacefully slumbering in rural churchyards lie i whole acres of Johnsons." "Why, Sam, you don't mean to tell me that j*ou've been over to England i since I last saw you?" "Yes, old man, that is just where I have been, and to a few other places besides. Why, by Jove, a man may circumnavigate the globe, and when he reappears on the Comstock he is supposed to have merely been over the Sierras to California on a little flyer! I've knocked about pretty lively siin.e I left Virginia ! City a year ago." "A year ago!" "Yes, a year ago. You have hardly missed me, but I really left here a year ' ago. When you think a fellow is over , in California, it never counts with you in this town; it is the same as if he were ! here at home. In the time I've been 1 away I might have put about four 'girdles' round the earth." The particular Sam Johnson who thus spoke was a young man about 28 years of age, who had for three or four years been engaged in running a big hoisting engine at one of the leading sil- ' ver mines in Virginia City. He also speculated a little in mining shares and k . otherwise enjoyed himself after the j Comstock fashion. He was always a happy-go-lucky young fellow and bought and sold mining stocks in such a seem- i ingly offhand, reckless way that his i friends were wont to say that the god- ; dess of fortune herself took care of all his * speculations. The fact was, how- i ever, that every move Sam made in , stocks was well considered. I was delighted to meet the jolly young fellow, and having met we at once pro- ; ceeded to our old quiet retreat to converse at ease and pass upon the merits of the newest brand of beer put forth as a candidate for public favor. "Yes," continued Sara, when we had anchored ourselves in our old time safe harbor, "yes, I've been down east, over to England, down south and all about." "I can understand your trip to the New England states and can guess that ' you went down into Georgia or South ' Carolina to look at mines, but I cannot imagine why you should have gone to England." "Ha, ha, ha!" laughed Sarn. "What is the joke about your trip to England? Perhaps you made it merely ! in imagination?" "No, I actually went to England and accomplished my mission there, but : probably no man ever before crossed the ocean on snch an errand. Ha, ha! it was the fnnniest piece of business ever undertaken. But it was a success?a glorious success." "What you are saying is all Greek to me, Sam." "Of course, but you'll see the fun of the whole business when you've heard my story. Then if you don't say that the affair is the most elaborate joke of the century I'll treat to the l>eer every day for the next year. To begin with, the wholo and sole object of my mission to England was to steal and iuij>ort an ancestor for the Johnson family." "To import an ancestor?" "Yes. A great-great-graudfather, and I got him. He is now the pride of Pason- | agessit." "But he is not alive?" "Alive! Pooh, no! Been dead ever since 1798." CHAPTER I. THE PEOPLE OK THE TOWN OF PASONAOESSIT. Sam then proceeded to tell me his story i as follows: You know that my father, James A. Johnson, left San Francisco about four i years ago pretty "well fixed," as the say- j ing is. With what he made here and uown at tne "uay, ne nau very nearly | two millions in good, solid gold coin. He went back to New England to found a home in which to end his days. After j spending months in looking about lie at last fixed upon the village of Pasonages- i sit, near the old whaling town of New Bedford, Mass. In Pasonagessit he built 4 palatial mansion?the finest private residence in the village. His grounds were also the finest. As for carriages and horses, no man in the place could ever approach my father. He had also a fine library and some fine and valuable paintings? not paintings from over the sea, but the work of our own leading artists. ' Of all this I had heard through letters from my sisters before I went home. I expected to find my father, mother and all the family perfectly happy. Judge of my surprise and sorrow when I discovered that they were quite the contrary. I was not long in getting at the facts?at the real situation. In the village of Piisonagessit 1 .-I two "high privates," Captain Shrimp and Rev. Nantucket Sperm. All the ! rest of the inhabitants were Brad lords, whose progenitor came over in the Mayflower?so at least it seemed to inc. My people were looked upon ns upstarts?a family without a pedigree?and they were snubbed on all sides. . Soon as I made this discovery, which J. did in a way that came home to the heart in my bosom, I took occasion to sj>eak of it to my father. "Sam, my boy, you are right," said he. "It is true. You seo how it is here. These people have a sort of petty, narrow pride of ancestry that causes them to act in a very clannish manner. All * of their societies and social gatherings so smack of the 'pilgrim fathers of the colony of Plymouth' that all who can- 1 not claim descent from said fathers are barred. There is here a sort of aristocracy of the descendants of the first squads of emigrants that landed on these shores, and all others are looked upon as nobodies. Your sisters are us well educated, as well mannered and as good in every way as the daughters of our neighbors, yet they are snubbed. We are an outcast family. All their social parties are parties of pedigree?'ancestry' and the 'Mayflower pilgrims' always come up in one way or another to rule us out. Ah, Sam, we're a set of so- j cial lepers!" , "They must be a queer kind of Ainer- | icaa?," ventured I. "Tin y are just as I have told you, j and th*y are growing worse every year. With their various kinds of pilgrim so- | cieties they are cultivating this sort i N ANCESTOR. | - ?Ql ITJ.E. ' Association. of tiling. As we are socially ostracized I here among these descendants of the Mayflower pilgrims, I am seriously ] thinking of selling everything I possess j in tho place for whatever I can get and \ moving west or south. My father possessed a really beautiful place. Everything had been arranged to his mind, and he had hoped to comfortably and happily end his days in the beautiful little village. What he said worried me greatly. Besides this worriment on my father's I account, I was chafing not a little in my own harness. There was cause for this chafing, and a very bewitching little one it was, notwithstanding it owned to the "f Rrjnlfnr.l On mv side it was a UUUiU W4 ?-?? ? ? ^ ? ? | case of love at first sight. Ah, what a sweet little Mayflower it was! From the moment 1 first set eyes upon Prudence Bradford I felt that I had "met my fate," as the saying is. Judge, then, of my disappointment when I learned from my sisters that Prudence Bradford was upon the very j apex of the pilgrim pyramid?was the , Mayflower of the Mayflowers. They said that owing to the peculiar social conditions existing in the village it would be almost impossible for me to obtain an introduction to the young lady / or to in any way make her acquaintance. Besides, they had heard that Prudence ! was reserved for her cousin Standish, a Bradford of the bluest blood. My sis- j ters being ostracized in Pasonagessit so- i cietv, their brother could expect no j kinder fate. But where there is a will j there is a way. The houses of Rev. ITantucket Sperm ! and Captain Shrimp constituted neutral j no T oaa? /licnAtrororl Vnrv cnrm ^ivuiiu, aa x ouuu viiovv?v*w*. ? WVM after this discovery I managed to make 1 the acquaintance of Prudence Bradford. I I found her as good natured and sweet j as she looked. Not a sign of the pride , of pedigree did I find in Prudence. I : will not say that on her side it was also ! a case of love at first sight, but it was j very like it. She now accuses me of having "hypnotized her." Atall events, we progressed very rapidly, and soon | there was a very good understanding between us. Soon I grew so bold that I ventured to stroll home with her to the castle of the Bradford of all the Bradfords. There 1 met my Waterloo. Prudence was hus- j ! / ventured to stroll home with her. tied out of sight in an instant. The Bradford of all the Bradfords eyed me | over. Then, beginning with "Young man!" he laid down the law of the Brad- 1 ford dynasty. He gave me to understand that Prudence was reserved for her blueblooded cousin, Standish Bradford, and as good as told me that I was nobody and never again to darken his door. He was almost brutally plain in his talk. But "love iaughs at locksmiths," and Captain Shrimp was my friend. He was i only a shrimp in the eyes of Pasonagessit?in the heart and soul he was a whale. Now, urged by necessity, Prudence and I came to a good, square understanding. She had a perfect horror of Standish Bradford, and come weal or woe I was to be the xnan. Yet she feared her father and all her family. They and all the town would be arrayed on the side of her cousin Standish. She begged me to keep our engagement secret until we could see our way to an open declaration of our intentions, and if need be defiance of Standish Bradford and all other Bradfords. I promised, at the same time telling her to be of good cheer, that 1 would set my wits to work for our mutual benefit. Besides our occasional meet- i iug under the hospitable roof of Captain Shrimp we established an extra postoffice in the town, and this, after ?.?, was our mainstay. Through it were discussed all our plans, she keeping me informed in regard to every move of the Bradfords. The position of our affairs set me seriously to thinking. I did not wish old Amariah Bradford ? the Bradford of all the Bradfords?to pronounce upon his daughters a Puritan curse, nor did I wish the remainder of the family and tribe to feel that Prudence had become an outcast?had as good as thrown herself away and disgraced the name of her ancestors. I must in some way bring all the tribe to freely consent to the marriage. I must humor their priile of pedigree in some way. The result of this thinking took such shape that, meeting my father alone in the library one day, I surprised him by saying. "Father, I'm going to England next week." "To England. Sain!" cried the old gentleman, with widely expanded eyes. "Why, what put that notion into your head, my boy?" "Our talk some time ago. 1 have thoroughly thought over the situation, and I've arrived tit the conclusion that we've got to import an ancestor." "Import au ancestor!" "Yes, sir, ail ancestor. There must be plenty of Johnsons, Jonsons and Johnstons buried over in England, and if 1 can find one of the right date and quality the mere spelling of the name is of little importance. I shall look for a Sir John, a Sir Ralph or a Sir Richard Johnson, and, when I liml hint, over here he comes to he prominently and permanently replanted in the Pasonagessit cemetery. When I find a titled Johnson of the right degree of antiquity, I shall steal him, bones, tombstone and all, and wo will then transplant him in a style that will astound the Pasonagessit descendants of the pilgrim fathers." "Ha, ha, ha!" laughed my father. "Ha, ha! Why, Sam, blast my buttons, it wouldn't bo a bad notion." I then thoroughly unfolded my plans to the old gentleman, who laughed consumedly. My father, you know, is a jolly joker as ever spun a yarn or set a trap to catch a hunter after mares' nests and three tailed cats. He soon began to enter into the fun of tlie scheme and declared that merely as a joke it would bo worth twice what tho expedition would cost. We were agreed that our enterprise - - - - - - r .11 1 must be kept a, "ueau secret mmi <m m the village and all our own family in order to make it succeed as a really gorgeous and ever blooming joke. Even my mother and sisters must remain in the dark. In consequence of this understanding, I the next week set out for England. In a note to Prudence I told her I was going to the land of our ancestors on a mission of great importance to my father, and one that would be quite as important to ourselves. As it was my father's business, I was not at liberty to enter into particulars, but she would i probably be able to get an inkling of it from Rev. Nantucket Sperm or Captain Shrimp, at whose houses my father visited. My father gave out that I had gone to the mother country on business of his own. He wore a very solemn face when ho said I was going on a "grave" mission. I was going, as he said, to perform a solemn duty which had too long been neglected, a duty which his forefathers had failed to perform owing to various hindrances, and one which he himself had too long deferred. Further than this he declined to explain, except that my mission involved a duty to one long since J1 _ _ ,1 ? onnucfnr ueuu, a vuucicvuu uuwokvi. This of course soon found its way into the mouths of the village gossips, as was intended. My father being on rather intimate terms with the "neutrals," Cap tain Shrimp'and Rev. NautucketSperm, he did not mind telling them thus much when they put forth some feelers in regard to the occasion of my visit to England. CHAPTER II. TOE TOWN OP THETFonn AND TOMBS OF MY ANCESTORS. On my arrival in London 1 halted there two or three days to make inquiries and get my wits into working order. I soon decided that I must get back among the old country towns and villages. There I would begin a series of antiquarian researches. 1 would bo a young American specially interested in old churches and churchyards. Wishing to at once get into some old and thickly settled section of the country, I took the Great Eastern road and went up into Norfolk. Speaking of my antiquarian hobby and special fondness of old churches and churchyards to a fellow passenger, ho mentioned the town of Thetford, on the Little Ouse.in Norfolk county (and partly in Suffolk), as a placo in which I might see some very old churches still standing and the ruins of others much older. "There, on the Norfolk side of the Ouse," said my fellow passenger, "you will see St. Peter's, called the "black church" because built of flint. Also in Thetford, on the Suffolk side of the Ouse, vou will find St. Mary's church, a large thatched structure, with a lofty square tower. And in Thetford you will see the remains of a Cluniac priory and other religious edifices." My fellow traveler appeared to be quite an antiquarian himself. He said Thetford was a very ancient town, even for England, and told me so much about the place that I decided to make the town my headquarters and from it for a time prosecute my archaeological researches, though it is only about 93 miles out from London. As there are in Norfolk county alone no fewer than 700 parishes, I had before me an excellent hunting ground. I very soon discovered that I had landed in what must have been the original rookery or hatchery of the Johnsons in England. The ground was full of the "croppings" of Johnsons of both high and low degree; also there were "Johnstones," "Jonsons," and even "Johnssons." I did not devote much time to the examination of the large cemeteries in Thetford, but at once 6et to work at "prospect.vig" the old dilapidated churchyards of the neighboring parishes, many of them so overgrown with weeds and brambles as to be in what we would call a "shocking condition." However, the people explained that they were now almost disused and many of them wholly deserted on account of the shifting of the population, so many people leaving the farms and going into the large manufacturing towns. As you can imagine, all this suited my purpose well. After "prospecting" about a week I found a Sir Archibald Johnson in an old parish churchyard, who had "departed this life" in 179& The tombstone was about G feet in height and of pro / found a Sir Archibald Johnson. portionate width. The inscription was in a Rood state of preservation, which I considered a fortunate circumstance. The date was about what I required for a great-great-grandfather. By the side of the tomb of Sir Archibald was that of his "beloved wife," Eleanor, who had closed her eyes upon tilings mundane two years earlier than her lord. I surveyed this new and unexpected "find" with great satisfaction. Instantly I decided to extend my original plan and take back with me a great-greatgrandmother as well as a great-greatgrandfather. A sense of justice and the "eternal fitness of things" told me that to carry away Sir Archibald and leave Lady Eleanor behind would be simply outrageous. As they had not been separated in life, they should not be in death. I knew my father well enough to feel sure that he would be delighted with Lady Eleanor; that ho would receive her with the greatest enthusiasm. The next day, while wandering aimlessly in another old churchyard, 1 chanced upon an earl, one Reginald Johnstone. He was hidden away in a thicket of briars. "Why not go in for an earl while I am about it?" I asked myself. This earl for a moment sorely tempted me, but it soon occurred to me that lie was rather too ancient for my use, the date on his tombstone being 10JU. After due reflection I arrived at the conclusion that a good, well matched pair, though of lower rank, would he preferable in .the game I was about to play to a lone earl. Besides all this, there was a fitness of the names of the pair I had at first found that seemed almost providential. My father's name when given in full is James Archibald Johnson, and I have a sister Eleanor. Thoughts of these curious coincidences made me resolve to cling to my first find. Indeed I began to feel a sort of affection for the old couple. My sister would be in raptures when I took homo to her the remains of Lady Eleanor, her great-grcat-grandmother. CHAPTER III. I POSSESS MYSELF OF THE AS1IES OF MY ANCESTORS. Having decided upon the "transference" of Sir Archibald and Lady Elear ..... i_ - ,.c nor, 1 inane cartaui im-iiMiifiufma ui tlicir tombstones and had boxes made for their reception and transportation. The only real work in connection with the business was the exhumation of the remains, and even this was no great task for a man from a mining region. The churchyard being half a mile from any village, and the graves being hidden in a thicket of brambles and thorn bushes, one might have worked there a week without any 0110 appearing to ask questions. Had any questions been asked I was prepared with a plausible story which I had concocted. After mature deliberation and a careful survey of the ground, I decided to do all the work of exhumation myself and in daylight, in order that I might be able to carefully inspect the contents of the coflins. As the coffins themselves would be too much decayed for removal, I purchased two ne.it and strong trunks of 1 small size in which to place"whatever I ! might find in the way of remains. This done I had only to find means of conveying the tombstones to the depot. I ! I must secure a trusty drayman. Disguising myself as a workingman I one morning sauntered down to the iron i bridge which spans the Ouse, uniting the i Norfolk and Suffolk sides of the town of Thetford. The town?we would call it j a city?is situated at the influx of the | little river Thet, and the Ouse, thus i strengthened, is navigable as far up as ! the point where it is spanned by the bridge. Some small vessels wero discharging cargo at the wharf, and drays were hauling the goods up into the town. I presI ently went down upon the whajf and j studied the faces of the draymen, i I A ii.? ? r?ii? , mum wua u *uuii? luiiuvv auuui , my own age, whose looks and manner I j liked. I soon engaged him in conversa- j ! tion, and pretending to be interested in : something he told me appointed a meet; ing with him for that evening at a tav; ern ho named. I found Tom Bell, my drayman, await- , j ing me at the tavern. After a long talk about the Thetlord busimss outlook, in the course of which Tom complained , . bitterly of hard times, I suddenly ex- j claimed: "By Jove, Mr. Bell, I can do j something for you! lean put a small job in your way in a day or two. It is , not much?maybe ?3 in it." Of course Tom Bell was all attention j when lie heard me mention ?3 as a sun: he might easily earn. I then told him I was an undertaker's j man sent down from London to remove a couple of bodies, and that I had all in | readiness except the mere taking up of j the remains. "I'd like the five pun," raid Tom, "but I don't much fancy handlin of dead ! bodies." I I laughed and said: "Why, my friend, j these have been in the ground a hundred j years. There will be nothing, left but a j few bones, and those you'll not even see, . for I'll have them in two small boxes, all ready for you. The only work about the job is the removal of the tombstones. You see the family care as much about the tombstones as about the bodies, as j the remains to be removed are those of a ) baron and his lady. It is an affair of P.imilt, nw.la TUia +it?ra nt InnQfr nrm IIWMHJ *w,.w ..? . . | , wealthy family among them, want the i remains and the two tombstones to give n sort of tone, d'ye see, to their family burial plot up where they now live, near ; London." ( "Oh, I was afeerd they was fresh uns i like?that is, not so old but they'd be I bad uns to handle," said Tom Bell.. "You'll have the handling of nothing : but the tombstones," said I. "I'll tako ! care of the small boxes." Tom was satisfied and declared him- | | self ready to take the job. "Are there any Johnsons in this town?" | ; I asked. "Lots and lots on 'em," said Tom. I then told Tom that it appeared from j what my master had told inc that there ; was some disagreement between two ! branches of the Johnson family as to ! i which had the best right to the remains ! : of the ancient and titled Johnsons. Therefore it would be best for us to say J nothing of what we were about. "Some of the Johnsons here in Tlietford may bo of the same family," said I, "and may put in a protest against the removal of the bones of their ancestors, j therefore let us earn our money and say | nothing. We'll leave the Johnsons to | fight the matter out in the law courts if they like. Heretofore the graves seem to have been sadly neglected. Now,'if these Johnsons up Lun'un way want to take proper care of the bones of their an! cestors, why let 'em have 'ein is what 1 , say, particularly as they've got tho mon! ey and are willing to pay well foe all i trouble." "I don't want to git into no law . courts," said Tom. "Pooh!" cried I. "Mighty little you i and I would have to do with it. It's a matter between my master and the John- | j sons, if my master sends rae down here ; J to do a job o' work, I'm going to do it ; according to orders, xr tnere s any tawing or sich fussing, that's bis look out." Tom said lie might as well have tho job as another and would keep mum about tho business?I had but to say when I was ready. This matter arranged, I went to tho I j churchyard the next day in my working I dress and disinterred the remains. In the grave of Sir Archibald I found a very j well preserved skeleton. It showed him to have been a tall and powerful man, , an ancestor to be proud of. Tho coffin \ was much destroyed and crumbled al- I | most at a touch. On it I found a silver i plate containing the name and coat of ' arms of tho deceased, and in it among : Borne dust and scraps of cloth a number of large silver gilt buttons bearing tho family crest. These were prizes to be treasured. In the grave of Lady Eleanor j I found nothing except a few bones and a plain gold ring?doubtless her wed- ; ding ring. On her coffin was a plate similar to that found in the other grave. After the remains had been carefully packed in their respective trunks, and tho graves filled, leveled and strewn with I dry leaves and other rubbish, I went to the wharf and informed Tom that all ' was in readiness. After he had delivered the load lie had on his dray, we went i out to the churchyard and loaded on the boxes. The only work about the job was the carrying out of the boxes containing the tombstones, and we soon had them on tho dray. Indeed before sunset we had all at the station ready for shipment to London the next morning. We did all the work in tho broad light of day, and not a question was asked us by any one of the several persons we encountered at the churchyard and elsewhere. i At parting with Tom Bell ho said ho had never before so easily earned "fivo poun." I told him that peoplo always expected to pay big prices for such work, as at best it was not very pleasant business. lie said, "If the maister should > send ye daoun Tef'ord way for 'nuther 1 load o'the dead uns, just'ee call on Tom Bell, will 'ee?" I promised Tom he should have all my jobs in that line and left him a very happy man. The next evening I had Sir Archibald and Lady Eleanor comfortably housed in London. 1 have given you all the particulars in regard to the finding and ' transferring" of mv ancestors in order to show you how easy of accomplish- 1 uient I found an enterprise which at 1 first mention one would think very dif- \ I ficr.lt. Why, I would be willing to contract to deliver in good order in any part of the United States the bones, tombs, ashes and all the belongings of any number of lung syne departed Browns, Smiths. Clarks, Robinsons, Richardsons and so on. in England the old parish churchyards are full of them. CHAPTER IV. IN LONDON?Tin: I'KKI'A NATION OI-' A IT.DI(iicia:. My first care on my return to London was to write and dispatch to mv father along letter. In the letter I gave liiiu the names, place of residence and all the particulars 1 had gathered in regard to our distinguished ancestors. This I did in order that hemight speak nnderstamlingly in breaking the great news to our - family and the town. Also I sent a let- I ter to Prndv, under cover to Captain Shrimp, in which 1 told her lobe of good ) ; cheer, that all was going well l'or us. I told her that she would probably hear something of my success in my mission through my father, by way of Rev. Nantucket Sperm or Captain Shrimp, i I remained in London over a fortnight after dispatching my report to my fa- j ther, and I was hard at work every moment of my time. I had at my disposal unlimited means .and was determined to | brilliantly conclude what I had so sue- j cessfully commenced. My first care was j to look up the pedigree of Sir Archibald ; and Lady Eleanor Johnson of Thetford, j Norfolk. ' I went at once to the Herald's college ' or College of Arms, 111 Doctor's com- I mons, where all pedigrees have been en- | tered since the founding of the college ; by Richard III in 1483, and there I spent : half a day to good advantage. My tiuio J was not spent in "prospecting" the old j musty records of the college, but in "prospecting" tho old musty hangers 011 of the place?men who have grown old, j bent and gray among the ancient manu scripts ami ponderous tomes. About the Herald's college aro to bo i found* a score or more of poor devils, , somewhat like our "shyster" lawyers, who eke out a subsistence by examining and making transcripts from the old records. To this not a few of the num- ' ber add the less legitimate, but far more remunerative, business of manufacturing genealogies. These men are really J among the best legitimate genealogists in all England, for in the fabrication of false genealogies they are compelled not j only to be thoroughly up in all the true j genealogical records, but also to con- 1 stantly delve in piles of old manuscripts j and histories. In a chat with one of the officers of the college I learned the name ! of one of the oldest and most expert gene- j alogical workers in both tho legitimate ! and "shyster" lines of t.he business. I found this man without difficulty and was so well pleased with him that I | engaged him at once. Ho was a fine looking old gentleman and in dress affected the clerical. I soon discovered : that he particularly prided himself upon his ingenuity in the fabrication of bogus genealogies. Ho had worked out linn- | dreds that had "passed muster" in Eng- j land, and as no man in all Great Britain 1 was better posted in genuine genealo- ; gics, not one of his fictitious works could I be gainsaid, however much its illegitimacy might l?3 suspected. My work was easy for him, as it was nearly all of a square and legitimate kind. Much to my surprise I found ! that this old genealogical chief had at his command a full corps of assistants? i men glad to be called upon by him to lend a hand in a good job. As soon as ' he found that the cost of the work was a secondary consideration with me, Mr. j Roberts?the name of this prince of gen- j ealogists was Richard Roberts?at once j sent a man to the British museum, i where aro kept many records pertaining to genealogies; another to make transcripts of the parish registers in Norfolk and others to exploring the printed collections of genealogical information, such us rue noons or rue peerages, our- | on ages, baronetagesjind county histories, lie himself working in London in the ! College of Anns. The register books kept by the heralds and their assistants contain the pedigree, arms and all the leading facts and events in the history of a family; therefore, to ; begin with, there is found in the Herald's college a rich mine in which to delve in the very outset. Indeed the Herald's college, London, is a mine of wealth in which Americans in want of ancestors may profitably dig. Mr. Roberts gave me tho genealogy of Sir Archibald Johnson fairly and truthfully as far back as it was traceable in All this was written out upon a most for- | mldublc looking parchment. the records. To this he added as a labor of love a mythical genealogy running j back to the year 870, when Thetford was 1 sacked by the Danes. In the battle with the Danes he caused one Geoffroi John- j ston to perform "prodigies of valor." All this was written out upon a most formidable looking parchment, to which . were attached all the seals obtainable ; legitimately or otherwise. Altogether, it was a most substantial anu wen to ao looking document. . To tho true genealogy of Sir Archibald Johnson was added the name of my great-grandfather, Walter Johnson, as i only son of Sir Archibald and Lady Eleanor Johnson, who migrated to America a few years before lue ileal n ol ; his father, and there the record ended, to be taken up by my family in t he United States. As Mr. Roberts and his assistants were experts at such work. I had them get up a magnificent genealogical tree, adding the Johnsons in the United States to date, and devoting a corner to the family arms, all in colors, and the whole work on the finest vellum. Thus I had the tree?a beautifully constructed genealogical table?and appended to that a long and very interesting family history. We managed to take into our genealogical table?at my suggestion?from history a certain Lady Arbella Johnson, daughter of Thomas, fourteenth earl of Lincoln, wife of Isaac Johnson. This j lady, it appeared from the account exhumed by Mr. Roberts, accompanied her husband to New England on board the Eagle, whose name was changed in her honor to the Arbella. She died in Sa- i lem, Mass., in 10l!0, about two mouths ' after her arrival in America. While my genealogists were at work upon the pedigree of Sir Archibald and Lady Eleanor, I had their coffin plates polished up and retouched in spots. Also I caused to bo made for my sisters and mother a few gold ornaments set with handsome gems and bearing the family crest, bracelets and all else being of ancient patterns. They were the best counterfeits of ancient family jewels that could be turned out in London by an expert at such work, an artist immensely patronized on the sly. 1 next invented a very pleasing and romantic fiction of these jewels having been deposited by Sir Archibald with a certain barrister?his lawyer?as a secret trust, to be delivered to the heirs of his son Walter when personally applied for and under certain conditions, one of which was that tho person applying 1 must remove his remains to America, in accordance with his dying wish. This trust bound not only the counselor at ! law, but also his heirs, with much more that I put into tho story to make it plausible. chTvpter v. again in america?great work in the j l'asonagessit cemetery?my father in the i'jtesence of the ashes of iiis ! ancestors. On my arrival in New York with mv prizes I purchased magnificent caskets for both Sir Archibald and Lady Eleanor, telegraphing my father what I was about, and that tho caskets wero to be supposed to come from England. A? innv well be imuirined. there was a : grand social upheaval in Pasonagessit when my father made known the contents of my London letter and announced that I was about to sail from England in charge of the remains of his ] great-grandfather and great-grandmoth- | er, Sir Archibald and Lady Eleanor | Johnson. Nothing else was talked of j in the village. At first a few venerable dames called to talk over the great family event with my mother. Then tho Brad fords began to call, and soon there was a grand rush of both young and old. Pasonagessit precipitated itself upon tho j Johnson mansion. All this time my father was busy. Ho ; had found what he had long needed?an occupation?and was in his element. He at once bought a large plat of ground in the Pasonagessit cemetery and announced that he intended to remove to it the remains of his father, mother, grandfather, grandmother and all his ancestors, whose tombs were scattered through New England in several distant and neglected graveyards. Ho became so interested and so thoroughly in earnest in this work that he almost convinced himself that the remains about to arrive from England were really those of his great-grandfather and great-grandmother. He immediately gave orders for the disinterment and removal to Pusonagessit of the reinaius of his father, mother and other ancestors whose graves were in New England, a work he would never have thought of had it not been for his having first undertaken the great enterprise of bringing over from England his great-grandparents. The event was naturally pleasing to the pride of my mother and sisters. Therefore when they saw my father wholly absorbed in the new undertaking and sparing neither pains nor expense in carrying out his plans their enthusiasm became almost boundless. Nearly every da> they were out to where he was engaged in superintending the work of laying out his burial lot. The county surveyor was employed, and the sites of all the proposed tombs were traced and permanently marked. Rev. Nantucket Sperm, Captain Shrimp and all the church officers were led out to the churchyard and solemnly consulted. In explaining his plans my father was in his glory. Here would be the tombs of Sir Archibald and Lady Eleanor; adjoining would bo those of my greatgrandfather and great-grandmother, and so on down. Indeed, from quite an accidental beginning, my family were in the thick of what might be termed a grand sepulchral boom. Others, too, caught the infection, and there was a general overhauling of tombs and brightening up of the Pasonagessit graveyard. Soon it had been so beautified that all in the village were proud of it. When my father was informed of my arrival in New York, he at once dropped all his work and joined me. Never before had I seen the old gentleman so thoroughly in earnest and so filled to saturation with any hobby or undertak ing. When I took him to the undertaker's and showed him the splendid and costly caskets in which reposed the remains of Sir Archibald and Lady Eleanor, he was much affected. I then pointed out the family arms on the coffin plates and exhibited to him a number of the silver gilt buttons of my great-great-grandfather. To ui v astonishment, while I was glibly running on about these things, the old gentleman suddenly broke down. Leaning his nead upon my shoulder, he said, "I can't help it, my son!" and ho fobbed aloud. This exhibition or feeling on the part of my good father bronght tears to my eyes, and we wept together. The undertaker, who of course knew how very ancient the remains were, was quite surprised at such an outburst of grief. Addressing my father, he said: "My dear sir, your excellent relative departed for the better land a very long time ago. You could iiot have had the pleasure of a personal acquaintance with him." "I cannot help but weep," said my father. "He was, you must know, sir, my great-grandfather?one to whom I am "1 cannot help but weep," bald my father. indebted for my- very existence. Can I stand in the presence of his remains, sir, and not be moved? No, sir; I owe to his ashes the trjbute of a few tears." The undertaker gave my father up as being one of the inconsolables. As the man of coffins moved away my father 4/a,,ni?oo nnnti Cfiul LUliJCU uia icai un \.j vo u|/vn W4?v* "Sam, who knows but by some strange chance you have hit upon my real greatgrandfather and great-grandmother? Archibald and Eleanor, Sam?both old family names. I have often and often heard my father say that his father came from Norfolk, England, and Thetford? Thetford sounds familiar. I feel, Sam, that God guided you on your mission! I feel, my son, that I am standing in the presence of the bones and ashes of my ancestors!" To hear my father talk in this manner was very affecting, and we both left the rooms of the undertaker with red and tear dimmed eyes. Sunday In u Modern City. That the Sabbath is made for man and not man for the Sabbath may be reasonably inferred from the record of the Monday morning papers. It requires an entire page these midsummer days to entertain the public with the fun, accidents and deviltry of Sunday. And it isn't necessary to go beyond the city of New York and its environs for the material. There is a growing sameness to the long list of casualties by land and sea, the late Sunday morning "growler" and the sensational culmination of domestic infelicity which palls upon the cultured taste. Tiiero is a familiarity about the accounts as if a customary blank form had been filled up, the only changes being in the names and places. All the reader has to do is to look at the latter; he knows the rest. The chief variation is like the annual statement of the public debt in the number of figures, whether 2 or 10 were drowned when the yacht upset, and whether the affectionate father killed one or half a dozen of his children before he blew his own brains out, etc. If it were not for this, the energetic headliner of the Monday morning issue might have most of his headlines written in advance and save time Sunday is commonly regarded as a day of rest, but it cannot bo said to bo -crupulously so observed by the destroying angel. If people will not assist this official of the devil iu getting up schemes of murder, aeeideni and self destruction on Sundays, which dereliction can rarely be honestly alleged, ho appears to bo able to supply tho threatened deficiency by u squall or a cyclone or lightning or flood or something to keep things moving.?New York Herald. <s..~kliu- 11 L'uro l''or Leprosy. franco is soon to call on M. Pasteur to use his skill to discover, if possible, somo euro for leprosy, or at least some alleviation for the dreadful disease. Father Sauton, a Benedictine monk from the monastery at Ligne, trained in medicine. has been commissioned by the government to visit tho leprous districts of Norway, Lapland, Finland, Turkey, Ash Minor, Greece and Egypt and to study tho disease carefully. The result of his researches will be turned over to Pasteur, and together tho scientist and the ecclesiastic will endeavor to learn more about the scourge than is now known to the medical profession. Father Sauton, who has already visited tho lepers of provincial France, is responsible for tho statement that there are numerous nuns now dying in French convents from having contracted the disease while attending tho sick abroad.?New York Telel gram. pisfftlunrous parting. HAS HF.R MILLIONS. . I Uut She Ik Too Stingy to I'se Any of It for the flood of Herielf or Otherii. ! Everybody has heard of Hetty (ireen, i the eccentric Brooklyn woman, who is { i j said to be the wealthiest person of her sex in America. A late telegram from New York has the following sketch of j her: With a fortune estimated at $60,000,- j 000, Mrs. Hetty (ireen, the richest woman in America, lives in a dingy hall bedroom in a Brooklyn boarding house and eats in the kitchen, paying $7 a week for board and room. Though aim huu r? ll llvllil 11(1 snil 1111(1 (lllllfrlltnr she lias no home, but migrates from boarding house to boarding house, curing for two things?her money and her privacy. The eccentricities of this Croesus in petticoats are as sands of the sea. She ! lives the life of a roaming hermit because it gives her an excuse to refuse i to pay taxes on her personal property. I Whenever a tax collector is fortunate j enough to locate her she sends him j away empty-handed on the ground ! 1 that she is a non-resident of the city ! J or county or State. She has been so j shrewd in her endeavors to conceal j her temporary residences from the ! public that at no time within ten I years have more than a score of per! sons known where she slept or where ! she ate her meals. Here is a pen picture of the woman in her daily garb. She is well above ; the medium height, with a large frame and plenty of llesh to cover the bones, i Iler hands and feet arc of geilerous proportions. She is not only square j jawed, hut her whole head is singular- | ly square. She has high cheek bones, , a firm, straight nose, thin lips, and ' keen, gray eyes, set well back under ' the broad forehead. Her hair, once brown, looks as if it had a tinge of j green in it. It is combed down quite j I straight on each side of her forehead : aggressively. There is an aggressive air in the poise of her head and the well squared ! shoulders and erect figure. She walks with a quick, yet shufiling stride. Her features arc not coarse, and an expression of good nature, sharp and shrewd, yet kindly, is on the face that haunts many a mortgage debtor in his dreams. WEARS SHOP WORN CLOTHING. She wears a faded black cloth dress J I that she paid $1 for at a second-hand j I store in 1892. It is frayed around the I bottom and tne skirt is rusty, uver ; this was a $1.90 black clotli jacket, | bought two weeks ago after she hud t called once a week for three or four j 1 months to inquire the price, which ! was originally $6. After shop wear j had brought the price down to $1.90, j she took the jacket. Her bonnet is j small and black, and unobtrusive looking enough from the front, but the ribbon with which it was faced cannot conceal a great patch of faded yellow j at the back, which you can recognize j anywhere. She wears heavy overj shoes over her thick button boots, i Three or four buttons are gone, and j the woman's feet look obtrusive under the short skirt. Her overshoes are j loose, too, and her shoes of coarse leather. Tightly clutched und.er her left arm, this golden princess in peasant's dress, carries a black cloth bag, with puckering strings, which is her constant companion out of doors. Once in a great while Mrs. Green "dresses up." She has a strange passion for diamonds and keeps a marvel| ous array of them locked up in her ! strong boxes in the Chemical bank. I Once upon a time she yielded to the I bescechings of her landlady's daughter ! and brought from the bank a large I bundle. She uncovered on the kitchI en table a collection of diamonds and precious stones such as they had never I seen before. There were diamond broaches and necklaces and a string of j pearls, which Mrs. Green admitted is | worth a great many thousand dollars, and, in addition, a very handsome sat- ; ; in gown, with black lace flounces on ; it a foot wide. The old lady, she is over GO, was persuaded to go up and put on the dress and diamonds, when she looked like a queen of wealth, as she is. I Even then she wanted to eat in the kitchen, but the landlady insisted that > j she should sit with the other hoarders, j But Mrs. Green quickly donned her j other garments, saying that she felt | I like a fool in the others. The rich woman's life is the most | j humdrum possible. She rises early, j and after breakfasting in the kitchen, I 1 she walks across the bridge to New York, unless it is stormy, when she ! | spends three cents for car fare. Once i j over the river she goes straight to the Chemical bank, where she has her of- ' i flee. She is one of the largest stock- I holders in that institution, and keeps . i her spare cash there, amounting to ' two or three millions. In the vaults j of the bank are airs. ureen s strung j boxes, where are some $25,000,000 ' worth of government bonds, securities, mortgages and a magnificent collection of diamonds. All Mrs. Green's letters, j j no matter how addressed, go to the ; Chemical bank. She gets hundreds of begging epistles daily and they invari- I ably reach the waste basket, j She takes her luncheon at the bank to save money, and spends the day at*! her desk, looking over the papers and scheming for gain. She leaves for home about (i o'clock, and after supper spends the evening in the kitchen to save burning gas in her room. Mrs. Green's husband is a club bachelor, once worth $1,000,000, but now dependent on his wife, having lost his fortune in speculation. "Ned" Green, the son, looks after his mother's interests out of town. Miss Sylvia Green, 2S years old, is a tall, plain-featured \ young woman, who has a fortune of I $5,000,000 iu her own right, beside be- 1 , ing a prospective sharer in her moth- I : er's vast estate. The four members J of this queer family are most of the time domiciled under four roofs, thanks to the mother's eccentric pars.nionv. A CORK FACTORY. A cork factory is -an odd place. Scarcely a sound comes from the build- j ing where the industry is carried on. I Noiseless machinery whirls with great rapidity ; the only sound heard is that of escaping steam. Cork is soft and elastic, as everybody knows, and is the j bark of a species of oak, which grows j abundantly in Portugal, Italy and , Spain ; principally in Spain. The I trees grow to a prodigious size, and ' 'J e i 1 1 ' live 10 uie ripe uiu age 01 one uuuun-u i and fifty years. At fifteen they begin | I to bear and continue to furnish new ' crops of bark every five years. The harvesting occurs in the enrly i spring. Incisions are made around the trees, and the bark is stripped oil'. It is then boiled to take out the sap, after which it pnsses through the pressing | process. When dry, it is cut, scraped, j trimmed, and put up in bales like cotton, for shipment. At the factories it is placed in a i square box, and steamed to soften it, [ ! so that it can be easily worked. Then j it goes to the saw and is cut into long j i strips. From the saw the strips go to the punching machine. From a strip of bark a trifle over a foot long, only a do/en corks can be made, and half of j the material is lost. But the waste does not end here. Kveu the cut corks i have to be sorted, and a great number are rejected. So that is one of the characteristic r.._? r ,r.,,I | R'Ulluia ui iuu luuiiumvuw^ v/i | Within the lust few years, however, uses have been found for these scraps, which have considerably lessened the manufacturer's loss. After being punched into circular form the corks go to the tapering machine, where their final preparation comes. This is by far the most interesting part of this interesting industry. The corks arc put into an iron hand, which conveys them to an imaginary mouth, when up comes the knife, and the shavings fly. The finished cork then drops out of place to make room for another. The capacity of the machine is about one hundred gross per day. Before uses were discovered for the unmn 1? 11 nfl rod u nf tnilS W'PrP burned up every month, and thousands of dollurs were lost in this way. Things are different now, however. All the waste is made into life-preservers, cork jackets, cork-sprinkled paper, in which glass is packed, and linoleum. This pulverized stuff is also extensively used to pack Malaga grapes in, being handy safe and light. lied mattresses and yacht cushions arc also made of the shavings. WHY THE DOGS FOLLOW HIM. A (iypiiy Secrvt by an <)1<1 Man for Stealing I)ogH. One of the strange and profitable "gifts," which seem peculiarly to belong to Gypsies, is the power to entice dogs to follow them away in their master's presence. This power is also possessed by a queer old man who lives in one of the small towns suburban to Jersey City. For 1"> years or more he, like the Gypsies, has put his gift to practical and successful use, says the New York Sun. His house is situated about eight miles from the nearest ferry to New York, and every morning the old man rises at 5 o'clock, and if the weather is fine, starts on his long walk to the ferry. His journey lies through pretty residence villages and cottage cities inhabited mainly by well-to-do and often wealthy people. Many of these suburban residents have a fancy for the keeping of valuable dogs, but often they are unable to keep them permanently, owing to the doings of the aforesaid venerable Jerseyman, who knows the Gypsy mystery. The secret of the old man's influence over dogs he has confidentially imparted to a few choseu friends. It is the pampering of the canine appetite for the parjngs from a horse's hoof, that part which the horseshoer cuts away after burning the impression of the shoe into the hoof. Duly equipped with a pocketful of his "dog-coaxer," the old man strolls toward the river, keeping a sharp eye out for people astir about the streets and houses. He knows the locality like a book, and the houses where they have a dog worth his while. At some places, the servants have, as he puts it, a disagreeable habit of rising early, but they seldom interfere with his plans. Silently approaching the house he has selected, if the dog is in sight he gains its attention, and the animal dashing out at him, usually barking furiously, he tosses toward him a piece of his "coaxer," which is eagerly snapped up. Almost at once the furious beast is transformed into a quiet, orderly dog, as docile as a lamb, and, leaping the fence, the animal whines aud grovels at the old man's feet and rolls over and over on the ground. The effect of the "coaxer" upon a dog would appear to he something similar to that of catnip upon a cat. The old man humors the dog and lets him roll and cavort around for a while. Then he starts off, fully assured that the dog will follow. Never once calling to the beast, the old man continues onward to the ferry with the dog at his heels. If the dog at any time shows a reluctance to follow, another piece of "coaxer" thrown to him dispels the hesitation, and in this manner they keep on until the ferry-house is reached. The old man, with the dog still following, generally manages to board the boat at an hour when it is loaded with commuters. He now assumes proprietorship of the animal, and often sells the dog before he reaches New York. If the dog is not sold on the boat, however, he takes it to Wall street and disposes of it to some one among the brokers who make no searching inquiries as to how the old fellow comes by the valuable dogs which he offers for sale day after day. The old man owns that he got the recipe for his "coaxer" from a Gypsy, and he says he has never known it to fail. He thinks that he runs no risk at all of legal penalties in his peculiar traffic. "You see," he says, "the dogs just simply follow me. I don't take them by force." The old fellow, who is close on to 70 years old, is well-preserved and hearty. He has a most accommodating moral nna nf Ilia hplipfa which IlOthitU? cun shake being that he is not a dog stealer. Cold Waves.?Cold wavesare those sudden changes from high to very low temperature which constitute the most noteworthy feature of the United States. They are produced by the How of masses of cold, dry air from the regions east of the Rocky Mountains in British America, toward the south and southeast. During the long winter nights of the Arctic region, dry, clear air accumulates in deep layers which is cooled by radiation to a temperature many degrees below zero ; and then commences to How towards any place where warm air is ascending, as it does in the low pressure areas or storms which constantly pass from west to east across the United States. A "low area" is produced by the air, somewhere becoming heated from unknown causes, above the surrounding atmosphere. This excessively heated air ascends and air is drawn in below from all sides to icplace it. That drawn in on the south to east side is warm and moist: that drawn from the north to west side is dry and cold. The cold wave follows after the low area as it moves eastward. The severer and prolonged cold waves are associated with extensive areas of high pressure. Their rate of progress averages 1,800 miles in twenty four hours. It is of great advantage to many business and agricultural interests to know in advance when the temperature will fall quickly and decidedly, besides affecting the comfort and health of thousands of people.?C. F. von Herrman, Meteorologist, X. ('. Fxperiment Station. Proportions of tiie Human Fiuiri:.?The proportions of the human figure are six times the length of the right foot. Whether the form is slender or plump, the rule holds good on an average. Any deviation from the rule is a departure from the beauty of proportion. It is claimed that the ( reeks made all their statues aceord!??? ?r> iija rulo TIip f:ipp from the ,4,6 lv 4 u,v* " highest part of the forehead, where the hair begins, to the end of the chin, is one-tenth of the whole stature ; the hand from the wrist"to the end of the middle finger, is also one-tenth of the total height. From the crown to the nape of the neck is one-twelfth of the stature. If the face, from the roots of the hair to the chin, be divided into three equal parts, the first division determines the place where the eye-brows should meet, the second the opening of the nostrils. A man of good proportions is as tall as the distance between the tips of the fingers when both arms arc extended to full length. The best test of | symmetry is simply turning a man I with his face to the wall. If he be perfectly molded and symmetrically . made, his chest will just touch the wall, his nose will he four inches away, his thighs five inches, and the end of his toes three inches. The average weight of a man should be 140 pounds, and his height 5 feet, 'J inches. Postal Cards.?The contract that was let to a paper mill located at C'nstleton, Yt., a few days ago for the manufacture of United States postal cards for the next four years, was a j large one. It calls for 11,000 tons or ! 600,000,000 postal cards. The cards I. will he manufactured in two sizes 3.2 by 5.2 inches, and tiie double postal : cards, 5.2 by 7 inches. The paper used for the curds is made into long ; sheets of a given width, which are run on reels. Protn these reels the paper is run through machinery which prints, cuts, packs and bands the cards, and drops them out ready for delivery to the post office authorities i to be sold to the people. Government officers are detailed to look after the cards at the mill and see that they are | shipped to their proper destination. The machine counts automatically every card,'and the government officers and contractors are bound by this count and must render account accordingly. With the delivery of the cards I to the postoffiee officials at the*mills the responsibility of the contractor i ends. Thk Lkttkr "Q."?The letter q is a superfluous character?a nondescript of the worst sort, and of no more real i value in expressing or helping to ex-, press our thoughts in writing than one of the Chinese word signs would be. It never ends an English word, and cannot begin one without the aid of the letter u, being invariably followed by the last-mentioned letter in all words belonging to our language. The man ! doesn't live that can tell "why" of the peculiar relation of the letters q and u or why the former was given its curious name. Some argue that its name j was applied because of the tail or cue j at the bottom of the letter, but the I original q, when sounded just as it is today, was made without the cue, the character much resembling the English sign for pounds. i Snxf" A queer story comes with firstj class recommendation all the way from England. Thirty-three years ago, in ] I860, a member of the Chaplin family died at Blankney, Lincolnshire, and was laid in the family tomb. This par! ticular Chaplin was a naturalist, and among his other pets had a large gray bat. That bat was permittee) to enter the tomb, and was sealed up alive along with the corpse of his dead. In I860 the vault was opened?nd to the surprise of all, the bat was alive and fat. On four different occasions since the Chaplins have looked after their , dead relative's pet, and each time it has been reported that the bat was ! still in the land of the living, although ; occupying quarters with the dead. He was last seen in 18!)2. j Font Guides.?Any coward can | fight a hattle when he is sure of winning it; but give me the man who has I pluck to fight when he is not sure of | winning. The greatest secret of getting on well with the world, a secret which j few have lcarnod, is to know when to 1 speak and especially when to keep still. How quietly Hows the river towards ; the sea ! and yet it always reaches its I destination. This is a point to remem1 her when you are trying to "rush | things." Don't wait for somebody else to go ahead. Break your own path. Don't I put off today's work until tomorrow, in hope that it will be done for you. ftaT The patent office is a self-supporting institution. The fees demanded hi advance for the examinations I cover the entire expenses of making I investigations, while the tinal fees, j which must be paid or the patent will j not be issued, help out the cause to | such an extent that the office makes | about $100,000 a year over its expenses. ! The past fiscal year was not a good year, yet there were over 45,000 applications for patents, and over 25,000 were granted. Some idea of the in* | ventiveness of Yatikeedom may bo gained from the fact that in fifty years i nearly 000,000 patents have been applied for, and over 500,000 have been I #aT Thi ee-quarters of the best known physicians of New York, according to the New York Sun, were born south of the Mason and Dixon line, and are consequently New Yorkers only by I adoption. This statement is made on j the authority of an eminent physician on Madison avenue, who had an occaj sion to investigate the subject. The class of physicians referred to are those whose incomes are from $20,000 i a year upward, They are men who have attained rank in the general I practice of medicine. Many of them i have distinguished themselves by important discoveries in medical science and surgcrv. I baT The peach is an improved variety of the almond. The almond has a thin shell around the stone, which splits open and exposes the stone j when mature. This outer skin has j simply become Heshy in the peach, so i that is all that gives it its specific character. It seems now clear from investigation in the history of ancient Dubylon that in their gardens, now nearly 4,000 years ago, the peach was cultivated then as it is now. It must have been many years before this that i the peach was improved from the almond, and this fact goes to show the antiquity of the fruit. A physician advises: ''Learn 1. >w ; to rest. Don't wait to make a separate business of it: let it become part of the daily routine of occupation. Aboveall, begin relief, however slight, at the first moment its need is indicated. Stop work at your desk; lean back and close the eyes; relax the frame so far as posi sible for fifteen minutes; lie down, if I convenient, for the same length of time; : in any way relieve the tension, however briefly, but promptly, and the result will be a large ratio of gain in en| durance." fteir Some one has said that God makes all the features except the m/-.iiili iliul iivnn' man nr woman makes for himself or herself. Reflecting on the comparatively small num: her of pretty mouths one sees, we are forced to the conclusion that there is , some truth in this assertion, and every one, too, that while she may control , the expression of her eyes, her mouth I is the feature by which her real feelings i are easily betrayed. What woman j has not, at some time, envied man, the ' the mustache that hides the telltale mouth? I gtoy The membrane lining the canal of the ear contains a great number of ' little glands, which secrete a waxy substance having an intensely bitter taste. The purpose of this is to prevent the entrance of insects and to i keep the ear clean, as the layer of wax ilrifxj in which full rnnidlv awav. i thus removing with them any particle of dust or other foreign matter which may have found entrance to the ear.? ' | Medical Journal.