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BH .'A 1 !, > .( .(Ve • 3.' lI-L t \ * VOL. VIII. ■Uni" Ijlfn and Death. B ;L, S. C., THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 11, 1884: * • i,^ i less »return al- •t divine, fate* coni- 0 solemn portal, veiled in mist s J cloud. Where ait who’vc lived throng >1 an end lino. Forbid to tell by backward look r sign What destiny awaits the advancfK crowd; Rourne crossed but once, with lowed; Dumb, spectral gate, terrestrial beyond whose arch all powers ai bine. Pledged to divulge no secrets of Close, close behind we step, oatch Some whisper In the dark, somt 'limmerlng light; Through circling whirls of thou it intent to snatch A drifting hope—a faith that gif*'* <« sight; And yet assured, whatever may si pfall. That must be somehow host that omes to all. —C. P. Cranch in t he J u Pro and Con. When ships come over tho sea, r Come over the shining sea, Like maidens walking a minuet Wbite-ralnientod daintily— Ob, what do they bring undeiftoch wing. What aongs do the sailors sing. White the breete* frolic along t And the crested bil ows behind As over the sea, 1 he shining sea, The ships come sailing so inerrii shite deep, lem sweep. When ships oome over the tea, dear. Come over the stormy sen. The cordage creaks in the ^histjg winds. And the sails flap dismally; And tho sailors s«ear till tae ra damp air Is visibly tinged with a sulphur 8 glare, And the seasick pnsKcngrra lain r groan. tl And the sea gulls scream and moan, As over the sea, the storm—wep Tho ships come laboring wear —David Li. Proudfil In the THU LAST STKW. ‘It is the last straw that camel’s hack,” said Lucy, bfsting into | tears. The pleasant Juno sunb rus camo peepinw into the cool, dairy, where pans pf .uijlk. were ranged in orderly s ay; great ;lves, and already he shroud; strive to Century.' lore. tpecting irt; and wild winds ea, anbattao. rcaks tho Dne-paved id cream Jjecame a Example all-pow- gtonc pots stood under the i a blue-painted churn w placed on ihe table for sen Mr. Bellenden was just proud of his dairy. Not a chance gilt came to the house but was invited |wn to see it; not a housekeeper in th^neighbor- hood but secretly envied itmany con veniences and exquisite nealcss. ‘•And it isn’t the dairy (one,” tri umphantly remarked Matthr Bcllen- deu. “And you may go tjough the house from garret to cellar.pd you’ll never find a speck of dust o|i stain of rust. There never was stuya house keeper as my wife!” Mrs. Bellenden was ying, too, scarcely threo-aud-twenty. She had been delicately roared and uite igno rant of all the machinery < domestic life, until she married Matt w Bcllen- den. ‘Tt’s very strange,” Lueyiad ten to her father. “The fai is beau- ! tiful. You never saw sucli jonstrous 5 old elm-trees, nor such su rb roses, and the meadows are full ol L-d clover, j Srid the strawberries shiao .u jewels ou the sunny hillsides. Ii nobody sketches or reads. I don t Ink there is a copy of Tennyson in he whole J neighborhood, and no one i*r heard of Dore or Millais. All theiiiuk of is | how many dozens of eggs tilbens lay, , and how many cheeses thoykn make in a year. And the woman no has a now receipt for homc-inad4ine, or a new pattern for patchworjquilts, is | the leader of society.” But presently young Mrs^ellenden herself caught the fever, an<j model housewife, erful, and Lucy began to Uevo that tho whole end and aim of li was do mestic thrift, money-savin and the treadmill of work. "Mv dear,” said Matilid “if you thought you eoulil- get alcn^vithout a servant this year, I might able to afford that new reaper befq the oat- crop comes in.” ‘•I’ll try,” said Lucy. And after that she rose fcbro day break, and worked later inlie night than over. “What is the matter with hr hands, Lucy?" her husband askedme day. They are not so white and dutiful as they used to be. ” Lucy colored as she glanc down at the members in question. *T suppose it is making fos,” she said. And then she took to wiring kid gloves at her sweeping aj dusting and digging out of ashes. ••My coat is getting shakr,” Mat thew one day remarked. “Why don’t you buy anol r one?” asked his wife. Matthew laughed a short “What do you think M has done?” said he. “She her husband’s old suit and tern by it, and made a nov saved him two pounds.” “I could do that,” said sparkling eye*. “I will try “You can do anything, ■aid Mr. Bellenden, admirin And Lucy felt that she bother rich reward. Company began to come akoon nice wetther set in. All the affectionate relatid of Mr Bellenden aoon discovered iat the farm-house was cool and s iy, that Lucy’s cooking was excellen nd that the bedrooms were neatness ill Some of them were even gc enough to inyite their relations as w and so the house was full from A to Do cember with yisitors who br^ht their carpet-bags and valises with in human hospitality which life’s best gifts. Mrs. Bellenden’s fame we among the Dorcases of the hood in the matter of butter yhe took prizes in the domesi depart- monts of all the agricultural rs, and *he adjoining housewiyes ok no Trouble to make things that could bonow of Mrs. Bellenden, -well as not"_ And one day, wheh poor Li the blighting influence of sick headache, was end strain three or four gallons the shining pans, the newt her husband’s Uncle Paul to the farm. “Another guest!” said Lu sne couutn't nave nim because she has no servant just now ” “Neither have I!” said Lucy, robell- iously. “And Sarah don’t like company.” “/ am supposed to be fond of it!” observed Lucy, bitterly. “And Reuben's girls don’t want old folks staying there. It’s too much trouble, they say,” added Matthew. Lucy bit her lip to keep back the words she might have uttered, and said, instead: “Where is he to sleep? Tho Belfords have the front bed-room, and your Cousin.Susan occupies the back, and tho fohr Miss Phttersons's sleep in tho tw'*> garrets. Slie might, have added that she and her’husband, and tho baby had slept in a hot little den opening from tho kitchen for four weeks, vainly ex Mr. and Mrs. Belford to depar that she had never yet had a chance to invito her father to the farm in pleas ant weather. But she was magnanimous, and held her peace. “Oh, you can find some place for him!” said her husband, lightly. “There’s that little room at tho end of the hall where tho spinning-wheel is.” “Bat it isn’t furnished!” pleaded Lucv. “You ean easily sew a carpet togeth-; to f or er out of those old piecej from the Bel- ford’s room; and it’s no trouble to put up a muslin curtain to the window and lift in a stump bedstead; and you can just tack together a mattrass and whitewash the ceiling, and—What’s that, Lucy? The cows in the turnip field! Dear me! everything goes wrong if 1 step into the house for a moment. And really, Lucy, these things are youi business, not mine!” he added, irrita- b.v. Lucy could not help laughing, all by herself, as her husband ran up tho ste ps. But it was a very sad little laugh, and soon changed into a sigh. “I wonder,” said she, in a whisper, “if my poor tired-out ghost would haunt these stone pavements and scrub bed shelves if 1 were to die? I never heard of a ghost in a dairy before, but I should think that it might very easily he.” But the little bod-room w’as fitted up, for all that, as fresh as a rose, and Uncle Paul arrived, a dried-up, yellow- complexioned old man, will# an old- fashioned cravat tied in many folds around his neck, and a broad-brimmed, low-crowned hat and fine, gold-headed dairy maid, l^l^FhdViSe-servant to wait ou Lucy. And he telegraphed to her father to come to Silvan Bridge at oace, “She deserves a treat,” ho said. “Ho shall spend the summer with u*.” And then he went to tell Lucy. She had fainted among the butter cups, picking strawberries for tea. Poor little Lucy! The machinery had utterly refused to revolve any longer. His heart grew cold within him. “She will die,” he thought, "and I shall have murdered her.” But she did not die. She recovered her strength by degrees. “It is bettor than any medicine,” she said, “to know that Matthew is think ing of mo and for me.” And Uncle Paul—“the last straw,” as she had called him—had proved her salvation. “I didn’t want her to go as Joe’s wife did,” said Uncle Paul. A Greeley Reminiscence. Ben Van Houtcn, Greeley’s old bell boy, is driving a milk wagon Jn New Jersey. Ho was 6 feet high when in the Tribune service, and ho had eyes like goggies and a hand like the hand of Providence. "Bub,” said Horace to him, as he en tered his sanctum one night, "I want in hour or two, and I don’t want to be bothered. Keep all the burns out of my room.” “Yes, Mr. Greeley,” Ben replied in a hoarse voice, for he had a voice like a bull of Basham. Within half an hour Bon Bruce, Den nis McLaughlin, and several other po litic.-.! gadflies tried to buzz their way to the old man’s room, but were sum marily squelched by Ben. Finally, Senator lienry Wilson, of Massachu- seeis, entered. He had been on aca “* y onr p regeu t ways before you can prop- paign tour in Indiana, and he wore the J V . q ^ You seem to dir !• st duster aud slouch hat that had j t Vi... „ bright Breakfast Tablfc Lecture. An‘old gentleman, t|ie other morning at the breakfast tablej looked up at bis daughter, a tall girl with an effort at dreaminess, and remarked: “Louise, 1 was at too theatre last night, and just as the curtain was about to go down ad tho end of tho first act, I saw you and a kinkoy-hcad- cd young fellow outer, pranco along the aisle, and finally, after much an noyance to those who happened to bo in tho neighborhood of your seats, you and your delicate companion succeeded iu ceasing to attract uio attention of the wholo house.” “Why, how you do talk, pa.” “I only statu facts. Why wore you so late? Was it because the yoting man did not get here in time?” “Oh, no, ho cam* here in plenty of time.” “Well, was it because you had seen the play before and found it objection able?” “No, sir.” “Why, then, were you so late?” “Oh, pa, you don’t understand. Common people go early, you know, but people who are supposed to know something are not in such a hurry.” “Supposed to know something,” re plied the father, “is very good, but like nine out of ten suppositious, is incor rect You may think that to studious ly enter a theatre at a late hour—and a few weak-minded people may a<rreo with you- is a mark of good breeding, but in truth it is rudeness, if not ac tually vulgar. I also noticed that you had a wad of gum in your mouth, and that the youug calf that accompnn- pauied you was also chewing a quid. The Cost of High Speed. Some experiments have been made lately upon the Bound Brook Route to asoertain the difference in tho consump tion of coal between an express tram running on schedule time and the same train run at a very low speed, but oth erwise under the same conditions, the same five oars and precisely similar engines being used. The trains ran in each case from Philadelphia to Bound Brook aud back, a distance of 119 miles. The slow trip was made in 9 hours 23 minutes, 4,420 pounds of coal being consumed. The train stopped at tho same places as tho regular express train, tho only unusual feature of the trip being the funeral pace, averaging a little over 12$ miles an hour. When running on schedule time tho consume tion was 6,725 pounds, agreeing close ly with the usual consumption on this route with tho regular five-car express trains. Tho saving effected in coal by running the train at a very slow pace was 2,305 pounds. The percentage of saving may bo expressed in two ways: as compared with tho consumption at tho normal express speed, tho slow speed shows a saving of 34.2 per cent, while tho consumption at the high speed shows an increase over that at the low speed of 52.1 per cent. These figures show that high speed is not so expensive as is generally im agined. The speed of 12.5 miles an hour for a through passenger train making few stops is, of coarse, imprac ticable, for various reasons. Probably tho difference in coal consumption be tween the lowest speed practically possible under ordinary*conaitions and a high express speed is even smaller Ringing Use There la on* young ooupte III this city, says the Detroit Free iVsss, vfho are ready to open an exchange where they may get rid Of some superfluon* jewelry they have on hands, or, rather, Mren r t on hand, because the hand 1> quite too small for the jewelry. There is a new baby in the family, and before it was a week old they received a small box from California, and upon opening ring with ’ engraved on the Another mark of good breeding, I sup- than the figures giveu, which represent pose. My daughter, you have a great a lower speed than is over attained on deal to learn, and must forget many of I an ordinary railroad. been seen in New York since tho de parture of the Pendleton escort in 1868. The Senator dropped his carpet-bag and advanced toward the open door of Greeley’s sanctum, whence he was con fronted by Bon. blurted the cf constitute it abroad ighbor- chi ih« utuved that heads our sketch. ■‘•Oh, it’s only Uncle Paul!’ Bellenden. “Don’t tret, ^e , -*■ ■ 1 gisi si mmM nWHi the world. He’ll make Bo dfcata trlofrrt . Jatort cane. He had the polite way of half a cen tury ago, and Lucy thought she should , like hmi very much, if only she had wnt " ' time to get acquainted with him. But sho was churning ten pounds of butter a day, and there was the baby, and the company, and tho youug chick- a^ cns. snd tho baking to do. She was almost too busy to sleep. But Uncle Paul was watching her quietly ail the time. He came out, one day, to Uie barn, where his nephew was putting a new handle on a sickle-blade. "Pretty busy times—eh. Uncle Paul?" said the'farmer, scarcely taking the leisure to look up. “Aye,” absently answered tho old man. “Did I tell you, nephew Mat- \ thew, about the reason 1 left your j Cousin Joseph’s?” “Not that I remember,” said Mat thew, breathing ou the blade, and pol- : ishing it with his silk handkerchief. “Dorothy died—his wife!” j “Oh, yes,” said Matthew. “Low ' fever, wasn’t it?” “No!” bluntly answered Uncle Paul. ' “It was hard work. That woman, nephew Matthew, did the housework for eight persons. Joe didn't even let her liave a woman to help with tho washing aud the ironing!” “Must have been a regular-going brute,” said Matthew, tightening tho handle a little. “All the sewing, too,” added Uncle Paul—“tho mending* and making. She never went anywhere except to church. Joe didn't believe iu women gadding about" “The old savage!” said Matthew. “She was fond of reading, but sho never got any time for it,” said Undo Paul, “She rose before sundawn, and never lay down until eleven o’clock. It was hard work that killed that wo man, and Joseph coolly declared that it was sheer laziness when sho couldn’t drag herself about any longer. And when she died ho rolled up his eyes and called it the visitation of Provi dence.” “Why didnt’ tho neighbors lynch him?” cried Matthew, fairly aroused to indignation at last. Uncle Paul took off his glasses, wiped them vigorously, and looked his nephew hard in the face. “Why don’t the neighbors lynch you?” said he. Matthew dropped tho sickle, and stared. “Nephew Matthew,” said Uncle PauL impressively, “thou art tho man! Are you not doing the very same thing?” “I?” gasped Matthew. “Your wife is doing the work of a household of sixteen people,” said Uncle Paul. "She is drudging as you could get no stranger to drudge. Sho is rising early, and Iving down late; she is offering up her life on the shrine of your farm and its requirements. I have seen her grow thin and pale even (luring the few days I have been hero. I have seen her carry up Mrs. Belford’s breakfast daily to her room, because Mrs. Belford preferred to lie in bed; and cooking dainty dishes for Helen Patterson, because Helen wouldn’t eat what the rest like. No galley-slave ever worked as sho does. And you, with your farm hands—whose board only adds to her cares, and your array of labor-saving machinery, stand coolly by and see her commit slow suicide. Yes, nephew Matthew, I think it ** a case for lynching]”' Matthew had grown pale. •T—I never thought of this,” said he. Why didn’t some one tell me?” ‘Where were Tour eyes?” said Uncle Paul Matthew Bellendon rolled down his shirt sleeves, put on his coat and mat iqto the house. Ha told the Belfords and Pattersons “Where are you going watchdog. “I’m going to see Mr. Greolcy?" the Senator replied. “Not much 3‘ou haiu’t,” roared Ben, elevating his voice so as to make him self solid with Horace. "Git right o’ h< re, or I’ll holp yon out.” General Wilson was dumbfounded. His face, usually red, w as made redder by Ben’s manner. “Won’t you be so kind as to take my name in to Mr. Greeley?” ho asked. Ben looked hard at him and asked his name, “Wilson,” was tho reply. “Well,” said Ben, “I’ll go in and see if ho wants to see you." Ho returned in forty seconds, more gressivo than ever. •Tt’s just as I told you,” be roared. ; “He won’t see you; now, d—n you, git J out o’ here. ” Wilson turned to Amos Cummings, night editor, who lay back in his chair, bursting with suppressed emo tion. “What’s tho matter, General?” ho asked. Seuator W’ilson, explained, while Ben looked on in astonishment. “There must be some mistake,” the night editor remarked, “and I’ll take you in and introduce you to Mr. Gree ley.” They entered the great editor’s sanc tum together. Horace sat at his high desk, with eyes close to the manuscript, scratching away like a hen on a fresh sand-heap. “Mr. Greeley,” said Amos, “here’s Senator Wilson. You refused to see him just now.” There was a moment of think that a lavish mixture colors and a gaudy flower i the rig—” | “Rig, pa?” “Rig. I call it rig, for I can think of ; no better term. You think that these vulgar flashes constitute the rig in which you best appear, but you make a mistake. You are a handsome girl, when you are natural, but when you are nbt, you remind me of a cheap chromo. When you are at home you dress neatly, and, I wdnk, are I very attractive. Don't you think that this is rather pretty?” holding up a ! lily. | “Yes, sir.” 1 "Now, wo’ll see how this improves ” aud he tied a strip of red flannel High speed to a certain extent di minishes both tho number of men and amount of rolling stock necessary to carry a given traffic; and this saving must bo set against the Increase iu coal consumption and wear and tear. In the case under notice, at a slow speed, the run of 119 miles would make a fair day’s work for both trainmen and train; whereas, at tho normal ■peed, allowing for the necessary delay at stations, switching, turning and loading engine, etc., quite double the mileage might be made in a day. As engiuemen are ordinarily paid by tho trip, this would not reduce their wages unless some change were made in the practice, but probably some change would bo made if runs which now re quire six or seven hours were reduced to four or live. Double tho amount ol. the rolling stock being required, the round lily’s appearance?” j houses, etc., must ho larger and the pa!" sidings in which to store tno cars must “Of course not, but it reminds mo of oe longer. Tho interest on the addi- an over-dressed woman.” tionai rolling stock and plant would “But, speaking about the theatre, 1 thus amount to quite a large figure. In I heard ma say that sho and you some cases the slower train might often went to Ute theatre and ar- actually be the more expensive to run/ j leaving on one side all questions as to tho convenience of rapid traveling and , its effect in increasing the volume of travel. On tho wholo, tho result ol these experiments seems to be strongly in favor of high speeds for both passen ger and freight trains.—Railroad Ga zette. it/’ aud he tied a strip around tho stem. “Think it helps nice?” ‘Oh,'"*'" it found a tiny gold come little stranger, inside. "it’s much too large for the and not quite large enough to fit me, ■aid the young mother, plaintively; bnt on the principle that it would keep the put it away, and dictated a letter of thanks to the sender. The next day the baby’sAunt sent it a lovely little ring sor in pearls, with "Our pet” marked on the inner circle. Then it’s grandmother sent it a ring made out of a piece of gold found in dear grandpa'a pocket uter his death, and it had two sets of initials and a Bi ble text Inscribed on it* But the next ring was from a school friend, and was a wide band of gold with a quarter dollar bangle bang by a tiny chain, and the sentiment ‘Of such is the kingdom of Heaven," was con densed into it quite dlscernable with a microscope, however. Then tne baby’s uncle got home from Now York, and when he had kissed the new arrival he took something out of his vest pocket: “I couldn't sec a thing to get the kid except this,” he said, as he open ed a tiny box. “I knew nobody would think of giving such a little shaver a ring, so I got one. Hallo, sis, what’s the matter!’” The young mother had fainted. But they restored her in time W see her dear old Aunt Letitia, who nd stopped over on her wsy to the Psciilo Coast to seo that blessed bsby. , “Not s ring on her dear, sweet little hands,” said the old lady, severely; “Austy Lishy didn’t forget her tootsey- wootsey.” And she slipped a eameo circlet on the small red finger. It had a Greek word engraved on it wbioh means “Hope.” “There’s the postman's rin&” said the nurse one day as she looked out of tho window. “He’s (Hinging another off-riag to the baby; I know it/’ said the pale, young mother. But they carry them to another room now, where they are numbered, sorted out and put awsy in regular order, shining mementoes of the awful want of originality, which is usually possess- cd by tho friends of a first baby. * » ^ 1 ■ — ■ 'When Greeley Got Swearing Mad. George W. Smalley, London . >JW ■■ ’ • • Rowell hau l if i " A advantages” tery. When • aua bearite * ^thought he is Uable t* Mm A. T. fltartrayt tr years old and the rleheetv world. At the Carlisle fndfai are at present 466 ISOglrU. Paper is now used fct stead of wood in the lead pencils. These are roses kiss the forget to go away, Two new Cuaarders built with the object of ▼ions records (a Robert Grifto. of world will not bo the population in from now. Wall street is aa where a man oaa lose four years without hitf town Herald. There are 124,000 Tfeijas of in tho United States, or sevsa thpes as many miles as there are In the Uadtod Kingdom of Greet Britain. The staiaed-gUse mm hi able households Is opinion of in wholesale imitattdo killed Darby Grass who was seven duration <4 In lie in stfll vigorous The Kentucky ■ lives hss passed a Mil clists from using the pahlla loads of most of the oowatlss fs the slam New York's Laghfffrs has si dial ed from wsatlsai tha propsrty sf st abled ministers ndmMits gar «* years dd, to tho safNMA flf fl,H0. Charles Baade' *£■ •- 'a lyself hroahlag\ TvUh to go rived late.” “That can be explained.” “How?” “Your mother and I were fools, child, aud now recognizing it, I wish to warn you.”—Arkansaw Traveler. Illusions of Memory. An Impressive Effect Scone. for a Brl silence. Horace scratched away without look ing up. “Well,” ho piped in a shrill alto, without removing his pen, “the boy said that a d—d old bum named Wil son wanted to see me, and I thought it was Billy Wilson.”—The Journalist. Fucetlousness of Furniture. The North American /bTiew publishes a paper treating of tho illusions of memory. Tho subject is handled in a masterly manner, telling of the strango “I went into Quaritch’s book store impressions we sometimes feel in look- one day, aud among other curious ing out over a landscape never before hooks 1 picked up an old, black-letter seen by us, yet, suddenly there comes volume. It was a work on “Ceremo- a flash of indistinct recollection as if, nios,” with four large illustrztious. I years ago, back to wnieh time memory went into the shop to spend fouror five refuses to travel in a direct line, wo pounds; I spent eighty-four or five, end looked upon the scene. Some investi- ! carried off tho "ulacK-letter gators have thought that a roan during a certain mental condition, can look at poodent of the Tribune, is • son-lit-law of Wendell Phillipe Ho graduated from Yale College and won bis Journ alistic spurs by writing in a baggage car a report of the battle of Aatietam. In 1867, while John Russell Young-was out of the city, Smalley was temi in charge of the Tribune. Cummings was night editor. Greeley bad written an editorial article one night, and having an engagement to lecture before a Father Mathew society, had left the office without reading his proof sheets. He asked Cummings to o over the revise proof. Amos did so, BRXHaritjr §: cy, with dear!” as faith one of teese ust as “I must have some rest this sum mer,” said the clock; “I’m all run down.” * “1 think 1 need a country seat,” said the easy chair, leaniug on his el bow. •T’m getting played out,” said the piano; “a little fresh air would be a good thing for me.” “That’s what I want,” said the sofa; “a little fresh air at the springs.” “1 should like to go with tho sofa and iou'nge in the woods,” said the foot stool. •Tf mv legs were stronger,” said the tabic, “1 should go to tho country for some leaves.” "Country board is always so plaiu,” growled the sideboard; “nobody that is knobby or polished there." “Let me reflect,” said tho mirror; “they have very plain-looking lassies there, too, do they not?” “You mako me plush,” said tho di van—and here the housemaid closed the folding-doors and shut them all up. What Was the Lineman's Feat. Greatest “What do you consider as tho great est feat in the history of tho linemen?” The old lineman thought a moment aud then said: “I think it occurred when George Riley was ordered iu a hurry to carry a secret wire from a di rector’s room—to hide it, understand. He looked over the room and found a speaking tube. After trying vainly to push the wires down through the aa- f ;les of tho tube, he went into the ceL ar, set a trap and caught a mouse. He then tied a string to the mouse’s tail aud sent the mouse safely down the tube. When tho string was through he made the wires sing to it. They were then readily drawn through to the room, three stories below, where the terminus of tho tube was.” The old lineman didn’t laugh and the reporter didn’t dare to do so.—Philadel phia Times. * Ifords that it was InooiiTenient to keep them mv longer. He gave Cousin Susan to tmdefftaa* thM &r room was needed. board to The town of Atkinson, Me., has a man whose principal trade Is black- smithing. He has in one corner of hi* shop a dentist’s chair, and will stop at any time to relieve any one’ suffering from toothache. When business ie dim In these two braschee, hois transformed into a lawyer. la edditten. he la a ■* a strange object and that only one hem isphere of his miqd receives tho im pression. Suddenly the other hemi sphere receives it, and still retaining the impression taken by the first hemi sphere, he remembers to have seen tho object before. No man has satisfactor ily explained this illusion, but there are illusions of memory which can b« ex plained. For instance a man goes home after a day of toil, and says to his wife: “Saw our old friend Jackson to-day. Looking fine. Said he was never in better health in his life. Asked about you. If business don't go better, I don’t know what we are going to do. By the way, I saw our old friend Jack- son to-day. Looking fine. Said he would like very much to see you. I am tired. Such a rush of busiuess that I haven't had time to sit down. Whom do you suppose I saw to-day?" “Jackson,” replies his wife rather severely. ( “What! did he come up here? Said he would like to see you. I want to get down town early to-morrow. I forgot to tell you that I saw our old •frieud Jackson.” This illusion of memory has not baffled scientific research. The gentle man is drunk. Therq is also an illu sion of eye-sight, where objects take double impressions. Any one thus afflicted is also drunk.—Arkansaw Traveler. The Party Call. “Don’t you think ‘germane’ are an awful bore?” asked young Pilkins, af ter a silence of ten minutes’ duration. “Sometimes,” sighed Miss Cotillion, with an oh-do-take-him-away look in her deep blue eyes. "Have you been to many?” “I’ve, ah, led about sixteen this win ter,” answered Pilkins, iu an off-hand “How appropriate.” said Miss Cotil lion, drowsily. “Just one for every year of your age;” nud then there en sued another lonir. delicious pause, while the young man regarded his pat ent-leather shoes uml the clock deliber ately counted eleven. — Lift. In a recent trial on the Thames of sm electric launch forty feot long, with a storage battery, a speed of seven knots an hour was attained. The speed of a steam launch, with engine, boiler, water and coal soffioiant for n six hours’ run, would have been from and a half to two miles an hour great- «r. Comparing the electrical system with steam, the advantages of electrio- ity are eatim absence of aoiee, great 'j cfcanlinesa, and vesy small room need ed for machinery; aa ' Hieieady ina feet was a mass of vergers, or javelin men—officers of the church, I should book on j “Ceremonies”—all Italian. I was at I the time preparing “Much Ado” for the Lyceum. Iu the picture of a wed ding ceremony 1 saw what struck me as a wonderful effect, and of theperiod, too—tho Shakspearo period. Tne ef- f i urch, say. They were dressed in long robes, aud each carried a halberd. I pressed these men at once into the service of Sbakspeare and his cathedral scene at Messina, and got that impressive effect of their entrance and the background of sombre color they formed for the dresses of the bridal party. And it is right, too—that's the best of it Not long ago I was at Seville, and saw a church ceremony there, where the dif ferent parties came on in something like tho fashion of our people on the stage; but we never did anything so fine iu that way as the entrances of the visitors at tho “Capulets” in “Romeo and Juliet”—the different companies of maskers, with their separate retain ers and torch bearers.”—From Irving's “Impressions of America." t ^ An Alleged Cure for Headache#. James Carlcy, of this town, a jour hatter, recently suffered for a week with severe headache. Every possible remedy was reported to without relief. Finally "• of his shopmates informed him that D. B. Wilkes, living in the upper end of Kingstreet District could cure it without fail. According Carley set out to find tho man who possessed the panacea that oould relieve him from his untold suffering. Mr. Wilkes, whose occupation is a farmer, receiv ed him cordially and at once assured him that ho could cure his headache. He requested Carlev to accompany him to the old cider-mill, which they en tered, and Mr. Wilkes pulled out from beneath the press a box covered with a coal sieve. From the box he took a live black snake and wound it around Carley’s neck. Strange as it may seem, almost instantaneously the pain left bis head and has not returned since. Mr. Carlcy and his friends vouch for his care. Mr. Wilkes also caves nuke up the i surprising proof-sheet. ohn Robinson holding the manuscript. Everything was all right, hot when Amos went up-etairs to make up the editorial page he found a mark on the revised Greeley had referred to "Sv'mes’ Hole" in his article, and Smalley, who had never heard of “Symes’ Hole,” had knocked out the word “Symi marked in “Holmes’ Hole." went down-stairs and expostulated with him, bat Yale College was not to be enlightened by a boy who had gained education in a printing office. “l am managing editor here, and am respon sible, said Smalley, in a freezing tone, entting short all explanations, and Holmes’ Hole”’it remained. HoreOe walked up to Amos’ desk at 6 p. m. on the following day, saying in a piping tone: “Did yon read my revise last nightP” “I did,” was the reply. “Well,” said the great editor, throw ing his hat on the floor, “you’re a d—d blockhead.” The night editor pro duced the proof-sheet, with the altera tion in Smalley’s handwriting, and told his story. Horace stood like one dazed. “Well, Amos,” he finally blurted, “I want you to understand from this time forward that I’ll never allow any d—d sandy-haired Yankee to alter my edi torials. ’ ’ Smalley was quickly relieved, and never again filled the managing editor’s chair.—N. T. World. A Safe Dropped Four Stories. inly I —Er Sudden! dow sill strains and swellings in the same way. application. e explains the matter on the princi ple of animal electricity, which be tup- poses that the snake possesses. If a cure is effected in this way the writer thinks that the pain is frightened oat of the patient by thehorridac Danbury (Conn.) News. * * 1 * * A flower has been discovered in Sooth ?America wbteh is only visible when tho wind is blowing. Tne shrub belongs to the emetofl family, and is about throe high, with n arodk at tho top, tt tae appearance at a blaec vw JEMfi um the workman on the win- rnest Sanger was his name —gave a piercing and agonizing shriek that startled all who hMtzd it, and ar rested the footsteps even of the busy merchants and brokers who had not troubled themselves to Jook at anything so commonplace as a safh hoisting feat. A single glance at the writhing form o! ,the workman, who groaned and screamed with pain, was enough to show what had happened. Sanger had taken hold of the pulley to swing the safe, and his fingers had been caught in the rope and bad been drawn Into the sheaves of the block. His tollow- workmen understood the sitostkin at a glance. They knew that to turn the winch, either hoist or to lower the safe, might result in crushing the poor fellow’s hand into a pulp. There was only one thing to do—the - ropes must be cut and the safe allowed to drop to the sidewalk. As quickly as possible the sidewalks on both sides of the street and the roadway also were cleared of pedes trians and vehicles. Two stout fsRows lay out uoon the sill and held the bodty of their suffering comrade so would not be carried down with safe. Then the ropes severed close to tbs “ hand was released sad he was half fainting into the i to a surgeon's. The % safe not dull; he forward; Ae! wars of silty, A gentleman whs 1 deal of stody toths while bet of eity In the oonatty. paupers to the A New Haven new kind of i toned around itself, and tt is expected whole affair, inolc ‘ down safely if any the balloon. StathMns show Mat tors the number of ranges between At this rath the nnally among the 20,000 aMBttd of this oouatey would h% ea aa sge, i,wa Mr. Case, a watchmaker of Pa., has completed -a * tender six ioohae long .Sadis' New Orleans exhlbittoa. Last summer a man dug oot a sand crab on shore, which he took hmph his cellar. Up to data he . % 1 Vi breath, had wheuAe* gp tad bi& mght 112 rsath, Mk they are nipped and arrives. Most of tha ie# now years It#a0' can be mads sb ameb has driven the Boston km ewMt'