The Florence daily times. [volume] (Florence, S.C.) 1894-1925, September 17, 1898, Image 3
’Lons Come# 'Liu With the Brooia.
Just as soon’s I get to playiu’
Noah’s ark or train of cars,
Out there in a nice warm kitchen,
Trouble’s in lor mo—my stars!
’Long comes 'Liza with the broom:
“Look out now, I’ve lots to do;
Clear your duds out of my way—
Can’t be bothered here by you! n
Then I think 111 try the stoop;
Ho I move as meek’s a lamb
Get to playin’ nice as ever—
Out comes Liza’s broom, ker-slam!
“Come now. boy—you’re in my way!”
Out she flies. “I’ve got to sweep!”
My Noah’s ark. my cars and me
Ail go tumbling in a heap.
“Want to sweep me off the earth?”
That’s how I talk back to her;
But it’s not a mite of good—
’Liza comes with such a whir,
Sweepin’ dust right in my face,
That I have to cut an’ run,
Glad to hurry from a place
Where there's not a bit of fun!
When I have a little boy,
He shall play just where he likes,
Litterin’ up the kitchen floor
All be wants to, makin’ kites,
Pastin’ scrap-books, playin’ cars—
Jollies! place in all the town:
There shan’t be a ’Liza then
Always bossin’ my boy rounl
—Harriet Francene Crocker, in St. Nicholas.
Pretty Custom in Merrie England.
“Haying” parties are now the pop
ular al fresco entertainment among
the children of the English gentry.
When the hay on the farms connected
with the estates is cut and dried, and
just before being carried to the barn,
invitations are sent out to the children
of the neighborhood, who come at the
stated hour under the convoy of their
nurses, to play for awhile under the
fragrant cocks of hay, then ride on
the overflowing loads to the open barn.
A supper on the lawn crowns the
little fete.
School That Began at Soon.
“The Three It’s at Circle City” is
the subject of a paper by Miss Anna
Falconer in the Century. The author
says:
During the short winter days it
would often be noon before all the
children put in an appearance. When
I arrived, at 9 o’clock, it would either
be dark or brilliant moonlight. Smoke
might be seen lazily rising from four
or five cabins out of the four or five
hundred. I would light one lamp, and
wait. By 10 o'clock a few children
would straggle sleepily in, just as the
day began to dawn. By 11 o’clock,
shortly after sunrise, the majority of
the children were at school, some
coming without their breakfasts. By
half past twelve all who were coming
that day would have appeared. It was
hard to get up before daylight on
those cold, dark mornings. I often
used to wish that I was one of the
little girls, so that I too might sleep
until daylight. No one in camp pre
tended *n Cfftt earlfr nnless there
" WtrsTSome special work on hand wfllSfl 1
must be done. As I was going home
to my lunch at noon, friends would
sometimes call out to me: “Good
morningl Come in and have some
breakfast. We have fine moose-steak
and hot cakes.” On Saturdays and
Sundays I lived and slept as did other
people. Even when one did not sit
up later at night than ten or half-past
it required an effort to rise before
daylight. There is something in the
air and in the manner of life which
makes one sleepy. As the days
lengthened the children came earlier
to school.
A Big Bee Story.
From California by way of the San
Francisco Call comes an account of
what is believed to be the largest bee
hive in the world, a cleft in the face
of a*cliff.
There is no danger of getting very
near this natural beehive without
knowing it, for at all hours of the day
a swarm of insects hover about it for
several hundred feet in all directions,
and an incessant buzz that can be
heard an eighth of a mile fills the air.
But men do venture near after having
first put on a suit of leather clothing,
fastened & mask of wire screen around
their hat brims and lighted a big
torch.
It takes nerve to approach close to
the opening in the rock, and the ex
perience is memorable. Bees in
numerable light on the intrnder.hum-
miug fiendishly and endeavoring to
sting him to death. They form a per
fect cloud, and the air is filled with a
fetid smell and a fine dust that gets
through the wire screen and causes an
irritation of the eyes.
The insects really show signs of
vicionsness, and fly into the flames of
the torch in countless numbers, as if
they intended to extinguish it. Around
and around they fly with a deafening
buzz, and strong, indeed, is the man
who can stand their onslaught for
more than a few minutes.
It is almost impossible to make out
just where the entrance to this na
tural beehive is. There is a sort of
cavern in the cliff that seems to have
a crack through the inner wall from
top to bottom, but most of the bees
hover around a hole about eighteen
inches wide, and appear to make that
the point of ingress and egress. Many
days it is impossible even to see the
cliff, so thickly covered is it with the
insects, and they roll . in and out of
the opening like a stream of molasses.
During the summer dead birds can
always be seen on the ground around
the month of the hive. They have
been stung to death while attempting
to fly through the swarm of insects.
Four-footed creatures never ventnre
within half a mile, seeming to know
that death lurks there.
Tb« Boat-1) wallers of Japan.
Young people who live in London
or New York may fancy that oar cities
are crowded, and that many famillea
must live without very much air to
breathe or space for the boys and girla
to play in. What would they say to
the boat-dwellers of Japan? In that
crowded conntry hundreds of families
spend their lives and bring up their
children upon the water, and know
nothing of the land, except as they
make an occasional visit to it when
obliged to purchase supplies or attend
to some unusual business.
In every bay along the coast ara
found hundreds, if not thousands, of
small craft called “junks.” These
are small, flat-bottomed boats, and
are owned and inhabited by a man
and his family, just as houses are in
other parts of the world. Their busi
ness is the transportation of goods
and merchandise of all kinds, and
their navigation is a sort of family
affair. One traveler says:
“I have seen a boat twenty feet
long most adroitly managed by three
children, all under seven years of age.
I am told that, notwithstanding their
aptness at swimming, many boatmen
get drowned, for no boat ever goes to
another’s aid, nor will any boatman
save another from drowning, because,
as he says, it is all fate, and he who
interferes with fate will be severely
punished in some way.”
Among these wonderful aquatic
families children of three years old
will sometimes swim like little fish,
and if one is backward in learning, he
will be thrown overboard and teased
and tormented until he is obliged to
learn the art in self defense.
Ah! it is in reading and learning
about the people of other lands that we
find how much we have to love and be
thankful for in the broad, free life of
our own. But even here there are
children who would be the better for
such frequent baths, and perhaps you
would have great difficulty in per
suading the little Japs that life in the
hot and crowded streets of our great
cities was to be preferred to that of
the jnukmen on the rivers and harbors
of their own country.—Detroit Free
Press,
A Little Haymaker.
When haying began every one on
the farm worked with might and main,
and none harder than Charlie.
He followed the mowing machine
round and round the piece which his
uncle was cutting, watching the grass-
heads and daisies nod and fall before
the sharp teeth which he had turned
the grindstone for his uncle to
sharpen, until he was so tired that he
could not sleep when bedtime came,
and was discovered one night trying
to climb the bureau, for what purpose
was not known, unless to get in walk
ing trim for the next day’s mowing.
And when it came to raking and
“tumbling” he was on hand with the
little pitchfork which had been found
for him, and Charlie could make as
good a tumble as any man on the hay
field, although it took all his pluck to
Attack the windrows in which the hay
was heaviest.
one tbinpr that he always
disliked, though he never shirked it,
and that was riding to the field on the
hay-rack. It was all right until the
wagon turned into the meadow and
began to bob and bump over the
rough ground. Then began his
troubles. Every hummock over which
the wheels passed would throw him
up in the air with a bounce like a
rubber ball.
And when the horses were put into
a trot, so that the hay might be gotten
in before the thunderstorm came up,
and the pitchforks rattled and tossed
about in the bottom of the wagon, the
shaking-up that he endured was
enough to turn him to jelly, if he had
not been so tough—to say nothing of
the danger of pitching overboard—
while the men laughed aloud at his
unwilling antics. He was more than
repaid for this, though, in riding back
on top of the load after having raked
after so clean that not a handful of
hay was left behind.
When the load went rumbling into
the barn his services usually ceased,
except such matters as running to the
well for a pail of fresh water for the
men.
But one day Charlie pleaded so hard
with his uncle to be allowed to help
“mow away,” which means to stand
in the haymow and stow the hay
away as it is thrown up from the bed,
that he finally won his consent, and
Charlie clambered up on the mow with
his pitchfork and made ready for
duty. Proud that he was at last to do
what only the men had done before,
he waited for the first throw.
How it did come piling up on him
under the vigorous unloading of Uncle
Kent—great forkfuls,heavy and dusty,
and how hot it was up here where no
breath of air came! Would the load
never be off?
Faster and faster it came. Charlie
could hardly get one forkful out of
the way before another was waiting.
At last, as he was struggling to pull
his fork out of some that he had stowed
away with great effort, a big forkful
came upon him unawares which
knocked him over and buried him up
completely.
Nearly smothered, he worked his
way out, thinking that he should have
to call out a surrender; but great was
his relief to find that this was the last
forkful and that the rack was empty.
“Well, how do yon like mowing
away?” said his uncle, as he came
sliding down from the mow, covered
with dust, his cheeks aflame and his
arms and legs trembling with the ex
ertion.
“Oh, pretty well,” said Charlie,but
he never asked to mow away again.—
Youth’s Companion.
Tb« G#n>« of Do ml nor*.
Two persons playing dominoes ten
hours a day, and making four moves
a minute, could continue 118,090,000
years without exhausting all the com
binations of the game, the total of
which is 248,628,211,840.
HOMESICKNESS KILLS* ,
Many Soldier#, Eapertally Wonnded or 3a
Prl*on, Die From Thai Caua*.
r H * rve J Atkina, Company
I, -nd Massachusetts, died July 26,of
nostalgia.”
The above is extracted from an offi
cial report. Nostalgia is, in plain
words, homesickness.
A Boston Journal reporter visited *
men of miliUry experience and learned
that this disease is by no means un
common among troops.
Dr. Abbott, secretary of the state
board of health, who was for four
years a surgeon in the civil war, said,
when a^ked if the disease was com
mon:
_ Dh, yes, I have seen many cases
of it. Men become discouraged, de
spondent, lose vitality, and with it
their hold on life. In the official re
ports over five thousand cases were
recorded, of which but few, compara
tively, died. There were a great
many cases—very many more than
five thousand—that never got into re
ports. Most of them were those ol
boys under twenty.”
Colonel William M. Olin, who
served in the 36th Massachusetts
through the war, said:
W hen a man got that he simply
lf>st his grip. ’ His nerve gave out
and he ceased to care about anything.
The neatest of men would become
slovenly and let everything go to th«
dogs.
There was a man in my company
who was discharged because the sur
geon said he would die shortly if re
tained. Another who enlisted in New
York and was sent out tons just after
Spotsylvania very nearly died. He
Lad enlisted in the 36th because his
first cousin was a first sergeant with
us, but before he joined his first cousin
had been killed. He came to us,
therefore, with no friends in the regi
ment, not even acquaintances. We
nicknamed him ‘Jennie,’ because he
was a girlish-looking boy. For two
or three months he seemed to steadily
pine away. He moped about with a
despondent air, and grew thin and
pallid. There was nothing in the
^•orld the matter with him except
homesickness. We thought he was
going to die, until all at once he
turned abont and began to pick up.
He had got over his homesickness and
he grew steadily well again, until he
was fat and healthy. He had at one
time been actually attenuated and in
* dying condition.”
A prominent physician of the Bos
ton city board of health, a veteran of
4 C i vil wal, conflrm «d the statement
that deaths occurred from nostalgia
frequently. ®
“I was wounded and in hospital
myself, he said, “in a cot next to a
fellow much older than I was,and who
was not so badly hurt, but he got
homesick and lost his grip. He would
have got welly ordinarily, but he piped
away for lack of word from home and
friends, and he died.
“I think many more deaths are
r or instance, a man who is not seri
ously ill or wonnded lies in a hospital,
where it seems as if nobody cared
whether he lived or died. He can
only lie still and think. The mail
comes, and there is no letter for him.
That is the last straw. He can’t re
alize at such a time that' there may
have been fifty letters sent him that
have been lost or gone astray, owing
to the conditions of war time. He
loses hope and vitality. His nerve
goes, and he does not care to live. He
dies, and his death is attributed to
wounds or whatever his regular sick
ness has been, but that man has died
of nostalgia, just the same.”
CUBAN FORESTS.
JPS FOR HOUSEWIVES
Evapnralr<! Milk.
Yc»y use evaporated milk in
placvdinary milk for your cake,
addiaufficieut quantity of water
to nit as nearly as possible like
fresfc. I prefer, however, where
cakeitain a large quantity of but
ter, ie water, even if I have an
abuce of fresh milk. Water
makike lighter and more dolicaie
thaik. Evaporated milk may be
nse* cream sauce for any of the
cauivegetables , r fruits, or for
creaiUce for puddings or vegeta-
blesj which cream sauce would be
appAAte.
Whv Celery I* C*efu1.
Cf is useful as a salad owing to
its vknowu value as a nerve build
er. tsh the celery, trim off all the
greealks, and pare the root. Cut
into«ds the white stalks and the
portef the root clinging to them
afteoring. Toss them in a bowl
withe same dressing used for a to-
matqid lettuce salad. A celery
maytaise is a delicious accompani
ment a gtfme dinner. Trim the
eelewut the bleached portions left
into i-inch lengths, and season it
withialtspoonful of salt and two or
threaakes of the white pepper cast
er. >ver it with mayonnaise and
aervi once.
WISDOM.
An Immense Amount of Valuable Timber
Land in the Island.
Cuba still possesses sixteen million
acres of virgin forest abounding in
valuable timber, none of which is use
ful as coarse construction lumber,
while nearly every foot would be
salable in the United States and bring
high prices. Cuban mahogany and
cedar are particularly well known in
the United States. The mahogany is
very hard and shows a handsome
grain, and is preferred by many to
any other variety in common use.
The moment Spain drops the reins of
government in Cuba and . trade rela
tions are re-established with the
States, there will be a movement both
inward and outward of forest products
which will have a beneficial effect up
on the industry in both countries.
First to feel the force of this move
ment towards rehabilitating Cub4 will
be the lumbering interests of the
south Atlantic and gulf coasts. Prior
to three years ago they looked upon
Cuba t# an excellent outlet for the
coarse end of the mill cuts, and since
that market has been closed to permit
the prosecution of a most hideous and
revolting war, the coarser grades of
yellow pine produced at coast points
have been marketed with great diffi
culty and seldom at a profit. It is
unfortunately true that Cuba will be
unable to realize so promptly from a
movement to re-establish her mahog
any and cedar trade, for it is claimed
by'prominent operators that the in
dustry has been so completely crippled
by the ravages of war that a period of
time running from twelve to eighteen
months will be required before logs
can be landed at ports in this country.
It is hoped that all this may be ac
complished without shedding an addi
tional drop of blood. Prior to the
war the annual net revenue of Cuba
was $80,000,000. With peace restored
it would hardly be better than $50,-
000,000.—Lumbe min’s Review.
Meaner Than She Meant.
He—Can you read faces?
Bhe—Sometimes.
He—What can you read in my face?
She—Not much.—Boston Courier.
fuare* of Rhubarb In Jelly.
Ccr a quart of peeled rhubarb
cut iinch and a half squares with
cold bter, and at the first boil pour
off t water, cover with fresh, sim
mer * ten minutes and, while each
squais whole, try with a fork, and
wheseginning to soften add a large
cup <sugar. Stew a few moments
longtuntil the sweetening takes ef
fect, ten stir the hot juice into quar
ter os box of gelatine that has been
soakg in the juice of an orange, re-
morethe rhubarb carefully that it
may it break, put half the juice in
a shaow dish on the ice, keep the
rest luid. When half the juice has
jellieqslace the squares in it, pour the
liquiihver and serve when the whole
has be >me firm. If too solid put in
a workplace to limber aud scant the
gelati| next time.
Melon* for Ureakfii*t.
persons who suffer
indiges-
tioi f om eating melons as a refresh-
ing “ippetizer” iu the morning will
fim that no unpleasant results follow
the t tse as a breakfast dessert. To
the nost unthinking it should be ap-
par Dt that introducing a cold mass
intqthe stomach before eating must
necessarily redtms jits temperature be
low that required foV.digestioa. There
are itomachs hardy enough to endure
this treatment, but people eJiould dis
abuse themselves of the ide» s that it
is the proper and healthful thitaz to
do in all cases. Anyone who is
of melons will find them as palatab
after the introduction of warm fo
into the stomach as before, and ge
e&llj* the result will be. more satisfai
.. —ig -and
tax on the digestive organs.
NOT IF HE KNEW
People Wonldn’t Tramp Over reekhatn’*
Lawn. -
Some people are naturally lazy. In
fact, most people are. It is this in
born disposition to get through life
with the least possible effort that
makes one walk on the grass merely
to save three or four steps. Inciden
tally this natural laziness upon the
part of the human race is responsible
for the fact that Ebenezer Peokham,
who lives ou Cedar avenue, has been
unable to get a good brand of sod upon
the exposed corner of his neat little
lot.
Half a dozen extra steps are neces
sary to take one aronnd Mr. Peck-
ham’s corner, but five out of every six
people who have in the past had occa
sion to turn that way have felt it their
duty to “cut across.”
At last Ebenezer Peckham made a
vow. It was to the effect that he
would get even with the human race
or know the reason why. In pursuance
of this determination he got two stout
stakes, each about two feet long, and
he pointed each of them at one end.
Then he secured 20 feet of clothesline
and chuckled softly to himself.
Revenge is sweet. In his mind’s eye
Ebenezer Peckham could see members
of all the various grades of society
turning flipfiaps, and cartwheels and
standing on their heads, and rooting
up the turf. He thought of inviting
a few friends around to see the fun,
but that would involve delay, and he
couldn’t wait.
So he got a hatchet and pounded
his stakes into tho ground so far that
a horse might have pulled at either of
them without dislodging it, uud then
he tied his piece of clotheliue across
the path that had been worn into his
little patch of lawn. Tho rope was
about six inches from the ground—
just high euough to trip a trespasser
going or coming.
“Now, dadgast you,” said Mr.
Peckham, as he finished the job,
“we’ll see how you like that! I guess
maybe there’s more than one way of
doing most things, but I think this'll
be good enough for me.”
Then he retired to his porch and
sat down iu a dark corner, from which
he could see the fun without beiug
seen.
“By George,” ho said to himself,
“It’s a shame not to let anybody else
enjoy this. I wish Dave Brimmer
could be hero. He'd split himself
wide open laughing. Dave would just
take to this sort of thing. I
wonder—”
But while Mr. Peckham was indulg
ing in his mental talk there came a
sudden clanging of bells and rattling
of wheels, aud somebody aronud the
corner yelled, “Fire.
WORDS
The infinitely little have a pride in
finitely great.—Voltaire.
When passion is on tho throne rea
son is out of doors.—M. Henry.
Rashness is the faithful but un-
happy parent of misfortune.—Fuller.
He that swells in prosperity will be
sure to shrink iu adversity.—Cotton.
Poverty is the test of oivilty aud
the touchstoue of friendship.—Haz-
litt.
Enjoy present pleasures in such a
way as uot to injure future cues.—
Seneca.
By the streets of “by and by,” one
arrives at the house of uever. —Cer
vantes.
Quarrels would never last long if the
fault was only ou ouo side.—lioche-
faucauld.
Punctuality is the stern virtue of
men of business, and the pracefal
courtesy of princes.—Bulwer.
The injury of prodigality leads to
this, that bo that will not economize
will have to agonize.—Confucius.
Hearts may be attracted by assumed
qualities, but the affections are only
to be fixed by those which are real.—
De Moy.
There is always room for h man of
force, and he makes room for many.
Society is a troop of thinkers, aud the
best heads amoug them take the best
places.—Emerson.
In all the affairs of life, social as
well as political, courtesies of a small
aud trivial character are the ones
which strike deepest to the grateful
and appreciative heart.—Henry Clay.
An Uloeruled Tooth.
Mr. Dobson looked across tho table
at his wife with a smile of irritating
tolerance. “Now these headaches of
J ours, my dear,” he said, “I can’t
olp feeling that they are partly the
result of imagiuatiou. You are a lit
tle prone, I fear, to exaggerate your
sufferings. I think you should guard
against that tendency, or you’ll soon
becomeoneof those chronic invalids.”
Mrs. Dobson’s pale face flushed,
but before she could reply, her hus
band was appareutly seized with a
spasm of pain. He hastily left the
table with his napkin pressed to kin
mouth. Mrs. Dobson followed, and
found him in the library anxiously re
garding a small, grayish lump held in
one band.
“The filling has come out of that
wisdom tooth,” be muttered, beneath
the napkin. “The dentist saiiVif the
nerve was ever exposed
feared ulceration; he was
again,
he
loaiou «...— , only able
to put in a temporary filling last week.
It is already jumping, and I must
’ i i i ihave a hot-water bag aud do up my
EbenezerPeckbum leaped clear over | facerightftway for the night> Rn P d g £
the railing of his porch aud started
for the conflagration. The sight or
sound of a fire engine always aroused
the sleeping youth in Mr. Peckham.
Like an eagle in its flight, he swept
aronnd the lilac bush near the side-
to the dentist the
morning “
Mrs.
once.
keeping hot compresses on
band’s face, but he sul(Ti
first thing in the
Dobson was all/sympathy at
She passed a ^akeful night,
• ^— on her hus-
’ered agonies
muituvi VSSW . . . . ~ , m II
walk, and then there was a display of from the tooth in spite of all
How to Boll a Ham.
Select a good ham—one that is
thick through and short for its weight.
Be sure, also, that the skin is thin,
that point determining the age of the
animal from which the ham is cut.
Scrape and wash it well, and put it on
to cook iu sufficieut cold water to well
coyer it, adding a good kaif-cupful
each of vinegar and molasses. After
it come to a boil the heat should
be reduced to just the simmeriug
point A twelve-pound ham will re
quire five hours’ simmering. When
half-done add two bay leaves, a dozen
cloves aud a teaspoonful of sage. Let
it cool over night in the water in
which it was boiled. In the morning
remove the skin, place the ham in a
dripping pan, and bake for an honr in
a moderate oven, hasting with mild
vinegar. When nearly done sprinkle
well with brown sugar, aud brown. A
boiled ham keeps much better for the
added baking process. An indifferent
kaia prepared as above is better than
the finest sugar-cured product care-
lesily cooked.
Hou*«hold Hint*.
To mix a little consomme with clam
broth adds considerably to the flavor
of the latter.
Wash chamois skins in warm suds,
riose in warm water aud dry them by
stretching aud rubbing.
A new filling for sandwiches con
suls of thin shavings of sugared gin-
ge ' and candied orange peel.
A pleasing new fad is the “wedding
cl sst” To be quite the thing this
td onld be of carved antique oak or its
st nblance.
To clean mirrors make a paste of
w liting and a pint of water. Leave
it on till dry, aud then rub off the
p< wder with a chamois.
A chemist says that medicine stains
u nally yield very quickly to an ap-
p cation of alcohol. For the obsti-
n te iodine-stains ether is recommend-
e .
A point to give the new honsekeep-
e is Hiat chiu.i plates, cups or sau-
c rs should not be piled one upon un-
o her while they are hot. They must
l i cool before they are jmcked. Otker-
v se the glaze cracks easily.
The old-fashioned sugar tongs
v tk spoon points are recommended
f r use in hulling strawberries, when
i is desired to keep the shape of the
l >rry intact. The large fine berriea
i e frequently served with the Lulls
< i, passing a little dish of powdered
i igar with each plate of berries.
The correct way to carve a fish is
i run a knife down the back, cutting
trough the skin. Remove the fins,
«n cut into even pieces on one side,
lien these pieces are served, remove
ie bone* and cat the under side in
lie same wav.
rocket, continuing with a sort of pin-
wheel movement, embracing a brilliant
shower of stars, and ending with a
low, plaintive groan, as Mr. Peckham,
with a dislocated shoulder,a nose that
had been doing special duty as a plow
share, aud trousers that had once
kuown their proper place, rolled over
on the grass.
They put him tenderly to bed, a
kindhearted neighbor palled up the
stakes, and people come and go across
the Peckham lawn again at thtur plea
sure.—Cleveland Leader.
Pictnr<>*<|ue Havana.
Havana in dilapidated and pictur
esque, and the traveler will find as
much of the bizarre and unique in a
stroll up the Prado and about the les
ser streets as he has perhaps ever en-
conutered in a like distance any where.
To me the most interesting hour in
the day iu one of those antique towns
is in the very early morning, when
the place is just getting awake and
the hucksters are coming in.
These country people arrive in all
sorts of ways for the daily market.
One group comes afoot, with tremen
dously heavy loads of frnits and vege
tables carelessly balanced on tbeir
heads or swung on their backs. Here
is a swartby fellow leading a horse
bearing capacious reeded panniers of
fruits aud stalks of sugarcane.
Lumbering wains come straining
into town, drawn by heavy-necked
yokes with restraining nose-hitches.
A four-team of these cattle and their
great cart will alone block the aver
age side street, so the conntry ox
carts rarely get very far into town.
When two of them meet there is au
ably conducted debate on road rights
and considerable native profanity. An
ambulating haystack adds a pictur
esque touch to the scene and a breath
from the fields. As the diminutive
horse under the load swings down the
way the grass often brnshes the
bouses on either side and crowds the
footmen to the extremity of the eight
een-inch sidewalks.—Womia’s Home
Companion.
Walking Lizard*.
The remarkable “frillec Heard” of
Aust.alia, which runs about on its
hind legs in a partially erect attitude,
has been pictured in this column. It
is now asserted that some other lizards
practise the same manner of locomo
tion. A resident of the West Indies,
in a letter published in Nature, avers
that all the lizards in that part of the
world, including even the tree iguana,
which attains a length of five feet, ran
erect on their hind legs when hurried.
It is suggested that these animals may
have descended from some remote an
cestor in the age of the great reptiles
which was able to walk and run on its
hind legs, but the sigl\t of one of the
monsters of those days in such an at
titude would bare inspired more ter
ror than amusement.
he mumbled behind his
in the morning; and without
for breakfast, Mrs. Dobson took him,
weak from pain, to Doctor Brown’s
office.
“Your face hasn’t swollen yet,” said
Doctor Brown, with the cheerfulness
born of long experience of his profes
sion. “Did you save the filling?”—
Youth’s Companion.
The Future of Siberian Convict*.
The people and the press of Siberia
are unanimous in their support of
Count Duhofskoi’s memorial to the
throne, which aims at the concentra
tion of all the oonviots, of the criminal
class st least, into stations, depots, aud
colonies-on the island of Sakhalin.
That the press of the country should
bo so outspoken in its opposition to
the continuance of the present system
is certainly a healthful sign, aud I be
lieve that the foreign critics, in leav
ing this long-controverted question in
the hands of the Siberians, who are
most directly concerned, and who are
perfectly acquainted with its many
phases, will do well, and perhaps then
time might be found to ferret out and
expose abuses which flourish nearer
borne.
While all classes in Siberia nnite in
asking for the abolition of the convict
system as now in force, they are
equally unanimous in denying the
existence of the inhuman abuses which
in the past have been imputed to it.
In their opinion, however, a continu
ance of the system would prove a great
menace and an actual danger to the
seourity and peace of the industrious
settlements, which are springing np
and entering npon a flourishing and
prosperous existence all through the
country, upon the line of the Trans-
Siberian and upon the banks of the
Amur, as well as all through the Pri
morsk, or Maritime Province. This
danger, they point oat, arises from the
ease with which often inveterate and
hardened criminals obtain, almost im
mediately npon their arrival iu Si
beria, a ticket of leave, and then show
too often how # unchangeable is the
bent of their criminal character by
the immediate commission of some
horrible crime.—Harper’s Magazine.
Bat and Snake Kept Hon*e Together.
Joseph Garrish found a log along the
Potomac River, near Williamsport,
Md., and proceeded to chop it into
firewood. While in the act of split
ting the log he was surprised to see a
snake, three feet long, and a large rat
occupying the seme nest in the hollow
of the log. Both rat and snake, which
seemed on very friendly terms, at
tacked Mr. Garnsh. The snake coiled
for a spring and the rat mads for him,
biting viciously at his feet and finally
running up his pantaloons leg to his
waist. The rat was finally shaken oat
and despatched with the axe and tha
snake experienced a similar fate.—
Baltimore Sun. *