The Aiken recorder. [volume] (Aiken, S.C.) 1881-1910, August 05, 1892, Image 6
u U -uni itittt one m •very ten of
the world’* workiugwomeu supports
her busbund.
England has ninety-four unirer*!-
lie*, whiio the United State* bare four
time* a* many institutions of learning
that claim the nutns of university.
An ifficer in the British army thinks
that docks would be preferable to
pigeons for carrying naval dispatches
over the *ea, because they would drop
down and sit on the water when tired
and resume their flight after resting.
For iwo years the' Hydrographic
Bureau in Washington has been try
ing to learn something of the char
acteristics of the Atlantic Ocean as a
great moving body of water by means
of bottles. As a result it has been as
certained that the whole Atlantic is
slowly circulating round and round
like an enormous pool.
One of the flourishing industries in
Cairo, Egypt, is the manufacture of
paint from mummies. The mummies
arc ground to powder, and this pow
der is mixed with oil. Thus, solilo
quizes the New York World, Pharoah’s
dual may adorn the side of a house,
while great Caesar’s clay is only stop
ping a bole to keep the wintry wind
awav.
There is now conclusive evidence
l oat on the site of London there once
roamed the mighty mastodon, the ele
phant, the rhinoceros and the hippo
potamus. In making excavations for
sewers, a short distance from Regent**
Park, workmen recently discovered
the tusks of a mastodon and remain*
of other pre-historic animals embedded
under three strata of earth, aggregat
ing more than twenty feet in depth.
Similar remains have been found else-
where in England and all over the
north of Europe. Bones of snob
carnivora us the lion and the tiger
have also been found far northward
in Europe, clearly proving, declares
the New York News, that wonderful
climatic changes have occurred ever
•iuce the appearance of mamma
lian life on the earth.
Afterward.
We know not the sweetness of rest
Until we hare shivered with pain,
June’s rosea seem all the more fair
After Winter’s cold darkness and rain.
We know not the jewel to prize
Until we have counted the cost—
We know not how deeply we love
Until the loved we have lost.
We know not how dear was that form,
Till stilled by the ravishing breath.
We know not how sweet was that voice
Until it is silent in death.
Life’s sunshine seems all the more bright,
When shadows its splendor have crossed—
We know not how deeply we love
Until the loved we have lost.
—[New York Advertiser.
A GENUINE HERO.
A “wreck chartof the Great Lakes"
lias been prepared and issued by the
United States Weather Bureau, allow
ing the places at which the principal
shipwrecks upon the great inland sea*
of this country have occurred during
the last seven years. These disasters
were 147 in number, and a description
of each is appended, with dates and
losses. These latter amount to
$2,95^595 and 257 lives. The object
of tills graphic cuiupilatioh isTb show
what are the most dangerous points
along those coasts, information having
value both for the navigator and for
the government, which establishes
lighthouses and life-saving stations.
The work is so valuable that one won
ders that it has never been undertaken
before. This, however, it is under
stood, is only one of the ways in which
Professor Harrington, chief of the
Weather Bureau, has been extending
the advantages of the service which
be directs to the enormous marine in
terests of the Great Lakes.
When it is borne in mind that
30,000 horses have been taken ofl city
car lines to make way for improved
methods of traction during the past
few months, the plaint of a New Jer-
gey horse brush manufacturer who
has unburdened his mind on the sub
ject can well be believed, admits the
Boston Transcript. His trade, which
has been a flourishing one for many
years, has been steadily and of late
rapidly falling off, and he attributes
the decrease to the installatioa of
electric and cable car lines. He puts
the decrease in the horse brush trade
generally in the past few years at 20
per cent., and for this ho gives two
spcJlic reasons: “In the first place,”
he savs, “not nearly so many people
keep carriage horses as formerly, be
cause they have rapid transit. Then
again, horse car lines, which used to
make a big market for our brushes,
have been transformed into electric
lines and our trade is cut oft.”
Although Patagonia has long been
such a ierror to the ordinary traveler,
the name of that country being asso
ciated with monsters of cruelty wh
kill strangers without the slighu-
compunction, Jonathan C. Davies.
Welchman who has managed to 1
for sixteen years in Patagonia, 1.
just issued a little book in which i
gives a lot of interesting informaii<>
respecting a Welsh colony that wa-
planted in Patagonia in 1859 by Rev.
M. D. Jones of Bala. The first set
tlers numbered 150, but the present
5 opulation of the colony is about
000. The aim of the founder was to
secure a tract of land for Welshmen
who leave their native land to form a
settlement together, instead of scat- j
•eriug about among strangers in all
;>arts of the world. The colony is set-
, -si in Cbubal Valley, which is about
i : ty miles long and four broad, and
i-.ell protected by ranges of bills. It
uasnot until 1877 that the colony
showed signs of prosperity, and even
now the colonists have to struggle
with fear* and dangers that would
daunt any but a hardy and determined
neonle.
A sky of opal and gold, a deep trel-
lised veranda, a novel, and a hammock
slung at the most comfortable of
angles. With these conditions it was
scarcely strange that Halcyon Hartford
swayed delightfully between dream
land and the real world that June
afternoon, with the fleecy gold of her
l.air, all guiltless of pin or comb, and
the bell sleeves, falling enchautiugly
away from her round white arms,
while one trim slippered foot hung
from the edge of the hammock.
“HalcyonI Halcyon! Where are
you?”
It was one of those exasperating
voices which, once having been sweet,
had now a vibrant jar to its tones,
painfully akin to shrillness.
Halcyon frowned a little and raised
herself on one elbow.
“Ob, Aunt Hal, don’t scream so!
I was just in such a dreiraof de
light.”
“Well, you should have answered,
then!”
Aunt Hal came out of the wide,
shady hall with an effusive swing of
her draperies, and seated herself in a
bamboo chair close to the hammock.
She was comically like her niece—
at least, as much as a woman of 38
could be like a maid of 18. There
was the same yellow luxuriance of
hair, but harsher, drier and suggestive
of dye; the same pink and white com
plexion, artifically heightened; simi
lar features, cruelly sharpened by the
inexorable hand of time, and teeth
just one degree too white and regular
to be real.
The white dress she wore was pain
fully trying, and she was compelled
to use gold-rimmed eye-glasses as she
held up a letter to the view of her
niece.
“What has happened?'’ drowsily
demanded the latter, lifting a pair of
blue eyes, fringed with dark lashes.
“The strangest tiling!”
“Another offer of marriage?” haz
arded Halcyon, settling on the unlike-
liest thing which could, in her opinion,
happen.
“How did you guess?” with a little
exultant cackle. “Exactly. The
dear, foolish lad—and he so much
younger than I! Why, he couldn’t
have been 21 when he went to Bom
bay, and I was at least 30 then—”
“Thirty-five, Aunt Hal,” said Hal
cyon, the merciless.
“Was it as much as that? Well, he
seemed desperately in love, then;
though of course I never took any
notice of the child. But I suppose iu
that country of blackamoors one can’t-
help thinking about all the women one
has ever known at home; and he has
written me two or three letters—”
“Has he?”
Halcyon sat straight up In the ham
mock now. Her blue eyes glowed.
The heat had brought a flush to her
cheek which all Aunt Hal’s carmine
sauce* 4 could not rival.
“But I never told you,” said the
older beauty, “because I lemembered
that there was a sort of boy aud girl
affair between you and Charlie Bies-
fiou, when you were at boarding
■cbool, and I thought you would be
nettled. And here’s the proposal a 1
lust, deer—with his photograph en
closed.’'
“Lei me see it”
What a brave, good face it was—
slightly older aud sterner than she
had looked upon when the Avancaniau
sailed away three years ago, but yet
so strong and manly!
She laughed hysterically.
“Shall you accept him?”
Aunt Hal nibbled coquettishly atthe
edge of the envelope; the new false
teeth gleamed iu a smile.
“I—think—1—shall!”
“Aud you fourteen years older than
he is!”
“People don't think about such
things as they used to,” reasoned Miss
Hartford the elder. “Eros is immor
tal, you know.”
Halcyon sank back into the ham
mock and reopened her book.
“You must do as you please, of
course,” said she. “After that quota
tion about Eros, 1 have not a sugges
tion to offer.”
“Jealous, poor darling!” thought
Aunt Hal, with a thril. of pity. And
she said:
“Well, of course one can’t help
those things happening to one, and
your time will come soon, dear, never
fear.”
“It’s a good thing,” she added to
herself, “she does not know any
thing about dear old Judge Flostroy.
There’s a difference iu age, if you
please, and the old pet U so infatu
ated about me! An old man’s darl
ing or a young man’s slave—which?”
While Halcyon thought on her
eid«:
“The *illy gooee! He ho* done it
now! He ha* been making love to
Aunt Hal, thinking he was courting
me. Oh, I thought he kuew her name
wo* the same as mine- Didn’t *he
ataud godmother to me at St. Chryso-
line’s and give me a coral and bell*
and an embroidered christening robe?
And now he has actually proposed to
her! Weil, if he is the man I take
him to be, he’H stand by his colors,
cost him what it may. A man who
could walk up to the cannon’s mouth
at Bey-Idouna surely won’t shrink,
even from Aunt Hal. And I’d rather
know that he was a true hero th-than
have a poltroon for my husband!”
And Halcyon turned her face tow
ard the pillow, and cried great spark;
ling tears like dewdrops.
• •****•
“So you’re back again, Lieutenant?
Beg pardon, I’d orter said Colonel, I
do suppose,” said the old cab driver
at the station, whom Charlie Blessou
had remembered ever since he was a
child. “Well, I declare, I shouldn’t
hardly have knowed ye! Aud come
home to be married, eh?”
Blessou bit his Ups, but he laughed
carelessly. Jonas Hopper was a
privileged individual, like the court
jesters of old.
“How did you know. Hopper?”
“Oh, I dunno. Miss Hartford, she’s
been gettiu’ ready to be married, this
long time,” said Jonas, hoisting the
Colonel’s luggage on the back of the
wagon. “And dressmakers and mil-
liners they will talk, you know,
though I’m told Miss Hal took great
pains to hide it.”
“Did she?” (Aside: “The dar
ling.”)
“And a fine woman she is. Colonel,”
officiously added Jonas, as he pushed
in the last iron-clamped trunk. “A
very fine woman, considerin’ her ajfe.
I wonder she ain’t married long
ago.”
Col. Blesson opened his sleepy black
eyes wide.
“Why. man, who in the world are
you talking about?”
“Why, Miss Hal Hartford, to be
sure.”
“Miss Halcyon or Miss Haliiana?”
“There ain’t no Miss Haliiana,”
said Jonas. “They’re both the same
name; but we call ihe aunt Miss Ha
and the niece Miss Halcyon. My
daughter she’s lady’s maid there, aud
Id’d orter know, if anv one does.”
“Aud which of u is it that is
going to get marrieu.'” breathlessly
queried Blesson.
“Why, the old ’un, in course! Beg
pardon I” hurriedly added Jonas. “I
mean Miss Hal. P'Hv she tells me
there are twenty-fou. .ifl'erent gowns
ordered, let alone the jackets aud
parasols and ten-button kid gloves fit
to make your hair stand on end.”
“And Miss Halcyon—the young
lady,” cried the Colonel—“she is en
gaged, too?”
“Not as any one knows on. That
all, Colonel? Got your telescope bag?
Then we’d better be movin.’ ”
Col. Blessou pondered seriously all
the way up to Hartford Cedars, ob
livious of Jonas’s incessant stream of
talk. Could it be possible? No, that
was utter nonsense! Aud yet—
He strained his eyes as he ap
proached the house. Surely golden
haired Halcyon would be there, smil
ing, to meet him!
But no. In her place stood a mid
dle-aged charmer, rouged and pow
dered, with hair gleaming meretri
ciously, and teeth just a size too large
for a thin-lipped mouth.
In one hand she held his love"
breathing le tter, in the other his pho
tograph. And during that second his
heart sank like lead.
Ho did not know—ah, how much
more difficult would it have been to
bear had he known !—that Halcyon
Hartford’s eyes were surreptitiously
watching him from the honeysuckle-
garlanded casement beyond.
“Dear Charles,” the elderly damsel
said, “you are here at last.”
He set his teeth, drew one long
breath, and allowed her to slip a ca
ressing hand through his arm and
lead him into the house, muttering
some hoarse acknowledgement of her
coquettish smiles.
“I’ve brought this upon myself,”
he thought, “and I must endure it.
The lady is not to blame—no, she is
not to blame.”
“He is a hero,” Halcyon thought—
“yes, a hero.”
And then she burst into a passion
of tears and ran upstairs to
room.
“But now I’ve got you fairly here,”
lisped Aunt Hal, more determinedly
youthful than ever, “I’m really
afraid, dearest Charles, that there’s a
great disappointment iu store for
vou.”
“Eh?”
The young man had sat down in a
rather listless manner. Aunt Hal
held on to his hand, still all teeth and
me have my photograph
• ring at
maid an-
if you
wilt" let
back.”
Just then there came
the door below as the
nouuced:
“Judge Flostroy, miss,
please.”
Before the slow and ponderous
steps of the approaching visitor could
reach the room, Aunt Hal had thrust
the photograph iuto Blessou’* hand.
“A-hem-m-m!” sonorously coughed
the luminary of the Superior Court.
Aunt Hal tripped smilingly for
ward.
“Glad to see you, Judge,” she cooed.
•This is my old playmate. Col. Bles
son, just arrived from India. I dare
say, Colonel, you’ll find Halcyon
somewhere about the house.”
“Disposed of in short order,” mut
tered Col. Blesson. “Great heavens!
what have I done to deserve such
luck?”
Two hours afterward the young
lovers sat on the veranda, watching the
evening star rise over the hills, while
the Judge’s basso profuudo voice still
rolled in the sitting room like distant
thunder.
“But wasn’t it a narrow escape?”
gasped the young Colonel, holding the
girl’s slim hands iu his.
“Would you really have married
her?” Halcyon asked.
“As a gentleman there was no
escape for me under the circum
stances.”
“But would you really have married
her?”
“Yes, I would!” with sternly set
teeth aud knitted brows.
“Then I’ll marry you, Col. Bles
son,” whispered Halcyon, “because
you are a genuine hero, aud because,”
with an arch glance, “I really think
you need a wife to take charge of
you.”
“After the episode of today,” said
Col. Blesson, “I really think Ido.”
Take, for insta
and-thread tnj
luxury and the
to your tree anl
threaded all real
may seem to us,l
Needle and Thread Plant.
That there are more wonders on the
earth, in the sea, “beneath the earth,”
aud in the sky above it than ever
Horatio imagined is a well known
fact which thatavorthy’s must ardent
admirers will Inot attempt to deny.
, the famous needle-
Imagiue such a
lights of going out
plucking a needle
for use! Odd as it
here is, on the Mexi
can plains, just Inch a forest growth.
The “tree” 'Way not exactly be a
tree in the truo/seiise of the word,
partaking as iC does more of the
nature and characteristics of a gigan
tic species of asnaragus. It has large,
tWbk r _fioeihy leavjos, such as would re
mind one of the! cactus, especially of
the one popullrly known as the
“prickly pear.
The “needle:
thread tree
these thick,
obtain one f
it is only nec
gently back
(this to loosen j
side covering
pull itgentl)
operation is
fan
of
ro
of the needlc-and-
along the edges of
leaves. In order to
quipped for sewing
y to push the needle
uto the fleshy sheath
rout the tough out-
the leaf), and then
in the socket. If this
perly carried ouf one
hundred or more fine fibres adhere to
the thorn likl so many spider webs.
By twisting the “needle’’during the
drawing opentiou the thread can be
made of anyljlengih desired. The
action of thenir on (he fibre* tough
ens them am«ingly, a thread from it
not [argUFThan common No. being
capable of sustaining a weight of five
pounds, about three times the tensile
strength of common “six-cord” spool
cotton.— [New York Journal.
smiles.
“And I may as well tell you at
once,” said she, “that I’m engaged to
Judge Flostroy of the Superior Court.
Of course, if I had known of your
attachment in time, there’s no say
ing—”
“Oh, pray don’t let me interfere
with any existing arrangements,” said
Blesson, jumping up eagerly. “Per
haps, under the circumstances, you
Finest of Persian Carpets.
There is now to be seen in London
what is declared to be the finest Persian
carpet iu the world. This is the Holy
' Carpet of the Mosque of Ardcbi in
: Persia—a carpet which for size,
I beauty, condition aud authenticated
i age is said to be unrivalled by any
known example. Its dimensions are
31 feet 6 inches by 17 feet 5 inches.
The groun 1 of the body of the fabric
; is of a rich blue, covered with a floral
tracery of exquisite delicacy. A centre
medallion of pale yellow terminates
on its outer edge in sixteen minaret-
shaped poin s, from which spring
sixteen cartouches, four green, four
red and eight cream, and from two of
these are suspended, in the direction
of the respective ends of the carpet,
two of the sacred lamps of the
her own mosque. But the most interesting
' detail is the pale cream cartouche
placed within the border at the upper
end of the carpet, bearing an inter
woven inscription, which is thus
translated: “I have no refuge iu the
world other than thy threshold. Mv
head has no protection other than thy
porchway. The work of the slave of
this Holy P.ace, Maksoud of Ivashan,
in the year 942.” Now, 942 of the
Higira is 1535 of our era; so that the
carpet was actually inexistence, in the
Mosque of the sacred city of the Suf-
favivan Dynasty, when Queen Eliza
beth sent Anthony Jenkinson on an
•■ntbassy to Shah Tamasp. Carpets
Hius signed and dated are extremely
:»re and arc historically important,
but a carpet not only dated and
-igned, but of such size and beauty a*
tit is, is said to he something unheard
f before-—[New York Post.
RUSSIAN WEDDINGS.
Curious Customs That Date From
m a Remote Antiquity.
A Woman Mediator Brings
About Marriages.
The choice of a bride in some parts
of Russia is still accompanied with
many difficulties. The customs which
are observed rigorously by the fami
lies of the lower classes would certain
ly embarrass au American swain, or
indirectly create a large number of
young “Lochinvars of the West.”
“Iu almost all Russia,” says a recent
issue of “LTtalie,” “marriages are
brought about by means of a woman
mediator, known as the ‘Svakha.’ As
soon as the choice is made the Svakha
puts on her best ‘bib and tucker’ and
proceeds to the home of the future
bride. She makes her entrance
in as dignified a fashion as
possible, salutes the ikons aud
begins to speak of various things
which seemingly have little relation to
marriage. She says, for instance:
‘Where there is no snow, it is difficult
to follow tmeks; but today snow has
fallen aud it is easy to find the way to
a marriageable maiden.’ Or, she may
say: 4 A white swan has escaped
from the house; is it possible that it
fled to you?’ It depends upon the
answers of the parents of the young
girl whether the mediator becomes
more specific and speaks to the point,
or withdraws from the place. If the
negotiations end desirably, the suitor
takes courage to visit the young girl,
to become better acquainted with her
and her surroundings.
“In some provinces, for instance,
iu the Government of Volagda, this
visit of examination on the part of
the suitor becomes an elaborate cere
mony. The family of the bridegroom,
under the leadership of the mediator,
proceed to the house of the bride.
The mediator, without much ado,
commands the bride to spin. If the
visitors are satisfied with the talent of
the girl for weaving, they ask her to
walk about the room to see whether
she limps. The prospective, or rather
possible, bride and groom, are then
placed side by side to see whether
they are mated as to height. If one
of the young persons happens to fall
short of the proper length of body
there is always great hilarity among
the members of the two families.
. “In almost all the so-called ‘Great
Russia,’ the surrender of the bride as-
summes, in a way, the character of a
sale. The money and objects of
various kinds which the groom intends
to present to the parents of the girl
are the subject of long discussion.
“ ‘We can consider the affair
closed?’ asks, for instance, the father
of the suitor.
“ ‘I am agreed,’ comes the answer.
“ ‘ How much will you give me in
cash?”
“ ‘Fifteen roubles.’
“ ‘ That is no money at alL ' I re
ceived twenty roubles when my oldest
daughter was married, and then times
were hard.’
“ ‘I shall add a fur mantle,’ comes
the reply.
“ ‘Keep your mantle. My daughter
has one.’
“Thus the conversation proceeds
until the marriage terms are settled.
But the customs at the marriage are
equally queer. A few days befoqp
the weddjafc* the bride is taken to
bathe by Bier friends aud companions.
The soap used at the time is a present
from the bridegroom. The bathing
sponge, through which ribbons are
passed, is carried on a long pole in
front of the bride. The young woman
sings as the procession advances. The
platform of the bathing house is
sprinkled with beer. It depends upon
the odor from the beer whether the
groom is to be a henpecked husband or
not. As soon as the bridal procession
enters the church on the day of the
wedding, the bride aud bridegroom
I start down the aisle in a mad race,
i There is a tradition that whichever
one places the foot first on the cloth
iu front of the altar is to be master iu
the house.
“Among other things, there are
queer customs at the wedding dinner.
When the wine is passed around, each
guest tastes the beverage and cries out
that it is bitter. That is the signal
for the newly married couple to em
brace one another. In some govern
ments, the young wife is obliged to
pull off her husband’s boots in the
presence of the guests as proof that
lie is master. A whip—placed there
purposely—falls from the boot and
the husband strikes the wife with it
three times. After this greeting he
kisses her. The Russian peasant
values his wife for her economical
! properties.”
Mercury Mining.
The mercury mines of Almaden, in
Spain, are at a short distance from the
town of that name, following the val
ley in a northerly direction. The
veins of the precious metal are dis
seminated a little haphazard, but those
at present in working form altogether
a zone stretching for a length of from
160 to 170 metres, and which ia only
from 10 to 12 metres wide. The
depth of the bed ia still for
the reason that ifhca a vein H ex-
\
hauated the depth of the well ia in
creased in order to reach a new vein.
Between the different workable reins
there are beds of ores and rocks of
different kinds; the average thickness
of the unworkable beds varies between
10 and 37 metres.
A curious feature is that the fur
ther the distance gone, the quality of
mercury improves and the quantity
increases. In the tenth aud eleventh
gallery (the deepest) the mercury
runs, so to speak, from the rock as
resin exudes from the trees; it can be
gathered in small skin receptacles.
The rock varies in color, and passe#
from black to brilliant red; the more
the color approaches red, the more the
quantity of mercury increases. ^ cry
often mercury is present under the
form of cinnabar or sulphur. The
pits at present in working number
three. The other old wells have been
abandoned, and only serve in excep
tional cases. On delivery from the
pits the ore is smelted in vast fur
naces, with enormous cupolas, beneath
which a tierce fire is constantly kept
burning.
Distillation is effected through a
long and complete scries of tubes,
formed of thick jars, with a long,
narrow neck, fitting into each other.
In the lower portion of these jars there
exists a kind of small reservoir, where
the drops of mercury produced by the
evaporation of the metal in a state of
fusion are condensed. These drops
are then collected, and, with the aid
of small pipes, stored in large iron
barrels. A strong and penetrating
odor, which irritates the eyes and nos
trils, escapes from the jars aud bar
rels.
The production of mercury reaches
about 55,000 to 60,000 frascos per
annum, the frascos being enormous
bottles of cast iron, which contain four
arrobes of about 25 pounds each.
Each bottle, which measures twenty-
two centimetres in height by six in
width, weighs, when filled, about 100
pounds. The workmen at present
employed number about 2000. There
are also a thousand workmen who are
employed out of the mines with ma
chinery, furnaces, transports and
other works. — [Chamber of Commerce
Journal.
Olive Growing in California.
O;ivo growing is now all the rage
in California,and warnings are thrown
out that the business is likely to bo
overdone. In the neighborhood of
Pomona, for instance, more than 300,-
000 trees have already been planted.
It must be admitted that the Califor
nians are prone to excess in the mat
ter of fruit culture. During the last
thirty-five years there has been at dif
ferent times a craze to cultivate the
grape, apricot, Bartlett pear, and
other fruits, as if it overshadowed ev
erything else in importance. The last
fashionable horticultural fad is the
olive. A writer on ihe subject points
out that Pomona being the headquar
ters for the sale of olive cuttings the
conclusion that elsewhere in Califor
nia the olive is as largely cultivated
is unwarranted.
He thinks that the distribution of
cuttings may go on for years without
danger of overstocking the market.
Pure olive oil, he says, is hard to find
in the United States, and in supplying
it will consist the large profits of the
growers. The imported article is ia
most cases adulterated, and the admis
sion is made that the Californian
product is sometimes not as pure a*
it might be, the high price of the oil
tempting the dealer to fraud. Were
the State law against the adulteration
of olive oil strictly enforced, he says,
almost every grocer would be fined or
imprisoned. Of thirteen samples of
California oil recently examined by
the Board of Horticulture only two
were found to be pure. The oil of
sunflowers and cotton seed enters
largely iuto the adulteration. — [Chi
cago Tribune.
. The World’s Steamships.
There ate 1100 steamships travers
ing the four great ocean routes. The
first is that across the Atlantic, another
is by Suez to India, China and Aus
tralia. To go around the world that
way lakes eighty or ninety days and
covers 23,000 miles. The passage
money is $1000, and the traveler who
wishes to go in comfort and ease
should take auothet $1000 with him.
Another sea route described is that
by which you start from San Francis
co and sail around the American con
tinent to New York. The journey is
16,500 miles long, it takes 100 day to
cover it, and the fare is about the
same as that around the world. To
go around the Cape of Good Hope to
Australia and back around Cape Horn
is about 25,000 miles, and can be cov
ered in eighiy-one days. The cost is
only $750. — ^Seaboard.
Cheap Lodgings.
Old Gentleman—Where do you
lodge?
Tramp—I lodge where I get
board.
Old Gentleman—Ah! And where do
you get board?
Tramp—In a lumber yard [New
York Weekly.
The American Sunday-school Union
tince its organization has established
86.000 Sunday-school*.
Humming-bird Song.
Hummlng-hfad,
Not a wonr
Do you say;
lias your throat
No sweet note
To repay
Honey debt*
It begets
When you go
On the wing
Pilfering
To ami fro?
X May be you
Whisper to
Bloom and leaf
On the vine
Secrets tine
In your brief
Calls on them,
Winged gem.
Not a word
You reply!
Off you tly, .
Humming-bird!
— [Frank D. Sherman, in Independent.
HUMOROUS.
There arc two places where it re
quires an effort to keep one’s balance
—on the ice aud at the bank.
Mamma—And now, Eddie, can you
tell me what velocity is? Eddie—
Yes. That’s what papa let go of the
hot plate with today.
He—Are you happy now that you
are married? Site—Comparatively.
He—Compared with whom? She—
Compared with my husband.
Miss Goldbug—I wouldn’t marry
you, sir, if you were as rich as Croe
sus. Mr. Hardrow—Well, that’s just
the difference; I wouldn’t mary you if
you weren’t.
Attorney—Sneaky sort of man?
What do you mean, sir? Witness—
Well, sorr, he’s the sort of man that’ll
never look ye straight iu the face until
your back’s turned.
Wynch—So poor Staggers has
shuffled off the mortal coil. Lynch—
No. As I understand it he tried to,
but the boys had the rope too firmly
secured around his neck.
Mary had a little pug.
But not as you suppose—
Because it’s not of canine breed;
The pug is iu her nose.
Young Smith (telling the news to
his grandmother)—Wrinkle, the gro
cer, baa busted. Grandma—La mo!
who’d a thought it? He was one o’
the skinniest, boniest men I ever laid
eyes on.
She (in affright)—Oh, Tom,why do
you make such awful faces at mo?
He (contritely)—I can’t help it, dear.
My eye-glasses are falling off aud I
don’t want to let go of your hands.
“Browning, dear,” said Mrs. Emer
son of Boston to Iter husband, “what
is a cutaneous pastime?” “A cutane
ous pafltime JL Jqy<il , «^l y^r-r y--! ^
such a thing.” “Well, I heard two
men on the street car talking and ono
of them spoke of a skin game.”
“Literature certainly rnns in the
Greensmith family. The two daughters
write poetry that nobody will print,
the son writes plays that nobody will
act, and the mother writes novels that
nobody will read.” “And what doea
the father write? ” “Oh he writes
checks that nobody will cash.”
Marriage in Japan.
A Japanese wedding iu high life is
a pretty ceremony. Though no vows
are spoken, nor has the church nor re
ligion any part in it, the rile is, novor.
theiess, solemn and impressive.
There are ten bridesmaids gayly at
tired in costumes of the “Japs.” Two
at a time enter from opposite direc
tions, and salaam each to the other,
until the entire party has passed iu,
each kneeling opposite her companion.
The parents of the bride aud groom
now enter, those of the groom at tho
left, aud those of the bride at tho
right, and are seated near tho brides
maids on either side.
The bride, attired in a snowy, filmy
dress and closely veiled, now appear*
leaning on tho arm of her affianced,
while the bridesmaids salaam. The
go-between assists tho bride to a seat
i by her parents, and the groom to ono
near his. Tea is then served by tho
go-between, three cups being given
the parents of the bride and groom
and to tho happy couple. Each of
the bridesmaids receives one cup.
The go-between joins the hands of
the bride and groom, aud the latter
leads his bride to the front and whis
pers in her ear a promise of faithful
ness. The bride whispers iu return,
and they exchange seats to show the
union of the two families. A simple
repast is now served, and the bridal
party disperses; the bride and groom
leaving first, then their parents, and
lastly the bridesmaids, salaaming as
they go. |
The go-between is generally a friend
of tiie groom. In courtship she settles
the question aud arranges and assists
in the marriage ceremony. — [New
Y'ork Recorder.
He Thanked Her Too Soon.
“Have you anything for mo thi*
morning, madam?” asked the hungry
Higgins of Mrs. Glanders.
‘ T Yes, I have a nice cake.”
“Oh, thank you very much.”
But the tramp fled when she bandog
him a cake of soap.— [Harlem Life.
Bismarck’s favorite dog i* a bull
terrier that ia said to possess far more
’ than the average canine intelligence, j