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' . ? ; < LADIES' COLUMN. Mrs. Cleveland in Church. "When Mrs. Cleveland goes to church,n toys a"Washington lotter to tlio Memphis Avalanche, "as soon as sho enters tho pew and takes a seat, she drops her pretty head upon her daintily gloved hand and devotes a moment to silent i prayer. Then she settles herself for a ' quiet attention upon tho service. She i knows, of coursr, that she is the target J of every eye in the church, and, though J she tries to conceal her embarrassment, | she is not able to do so entirely. When ! it. . i. - ? . 1 .1. . i .j 1 nit; [jusrtur j^ivua uut tat' nyiini :snu is to turn her attention to the hymn-book 1 and forget the tlacornfortnblc feeling | which is the natural result of being j stared at. When the minister leatls in prayer j her head is bowed, aud it drops a littles j lower when he prays for 'the chief magis- i tratc of the nation' and adds a petition for 'those that are dear to him.' She docs not fidget about and lean up in the corner and rest her head upon her hand : as Grover docs, but sits straight and quiet, listening to the sermon from beginning to end. Of course she fans herself constantly, for she would not be a ^oman if she did not. When the basket goes nrnnnrl oVtn /Irnno J/vr? w.1 WUUIUUV1UU "luu" estly into it, and when the closing hymn -? is given out, finds not only the hymn but the doxology corresponding in metre with it, nnd follows them closely to the end. When the services end, every neck is craned to get a look at her face and figure. She tries to appear unconcerned, bows to the church people near her whom she knows, talks a little to thoso nearest her, and is evidently relieved when the carriage door bangs and she is hidden from view of the crowd that was gathered on the sidewalk to see her pass from the church door to the carriage. Throughout, her conduct is full of dignity and gentle grace." A Romantic Wedding. Herman Krause and Anna Ecschenbach, each of whom was born in the little German town of Friedcrichsaw on the Rhine about thirty-eight years ago, and n uuou j^ui/uuai uuiui nuu ouian auLjuaiuLanee with the English language indicated that they were strangers to these shores, were married yesterday by Mayor YVhitney in his office in the City Hall, Brooklyn. The Mayor and Secretary Phillips v each kissed the bride and wished the couple all kinds of prosperity. It was not until after they had gone that the Mayor learned that the marriage was the climax of a long and romantic attachment. The story is that Herman and Anna, when a boy and a girl together in the little town on the Rhine, had fallen in love. When the Franco-German war broke out Herman becamo a soldier and Anna, with equal patriotism, accompanied his corps as a nurse in gono of the Red Cross Hospital wagons. Early in the campaign Herman, with a 6coro of his comrades, were mown down by a French shell, and being supposed to be dead, he was buried with others in a trench. During the night Anna went to the trench and dug up the body of her supposed lover. To her surprise he showed signs of life. He was sent to the hospital and he recovered. Anna's grief, however, was intense when she was informed that an injury to his skull was of such a nature | that he could never recover his reason. Years rolled on, Krausc remaining in a j military hospital and Anna in her native j village. Her father had meanwhile come ! . I to this country, and nearly two years ago, in despair of ever seeing Krause restored to reason, she joined him in Brooklyn. Last fall a German physician succeeded in performing an operation on Krause's skull, which brought it back to its normal condition, and this restored his reason. He then thought of the girl who had followed him to the war and saved his life, and he never rested until he found her in this country. The marriage followed as a matter of j course. Mayor Whitney, who believes | the story, says it is not more improbable | thnn other tales of love and war which j he has heard.?New York Sun. f Fashion Notes. White silk stor kings are quite the thing as a novelty in foot wear. Corduroy is the most desirable material for boys' knockabout suits. Black jersey silk gloyes are embroidered on the back in fine jets. The skirts of pongee dresses have a broad band of colored velvet at the bottom. Black lace skirts are worn with bojlices of colored crepe de chine, silk, satin or , tuuiio nuuijuu. Wide white Ilercules bri\id friuged and knotted at the ends is used as sash belts for little girls. Turkish crepes are among the prettiest inexpensive cotton dress goods. Laces trim them admirably. Afternoon dresses of faille veiled with Jace have overdresses of figured silk,{having the same colored ground as tho [plain faille. Deep collars of lace reaching to the jshoulders are worn with afternoon (dresses. They are finished about the Wj'/' fthroat with a band and bow of the vel' y Ivet or ribbon with which the dress is [trimmed. _ The Australian colonies are all legislating against the Chinese. Vv ' ' ' . {' " - '' ' i WESTERN SAHARA. a VAST EXPANSE OF STEUILE COULVTUY IN CALIFORNIA. InhnbittKl Only by Coyotes, Lizards and. Snakes?Miniature Vol1 ?:anoc.4? Mirage and Sand Storms. Occupying the southeastern tingle or Palifornia is a vast expanse of dry and Iterile country, the northern portion of tvliich is known as the Mohave Desert, and the (southern as the Colorado Desert, [n the absence of natural landmarks, the dividing line between the two is a little indefinite. They are, however, about equal in extent, and cover altogether lortiL* thirty thousand square miles: their exterior boundaries, except <on the cast, tvbero the}* border on the Colorado River, being not very sharply defined. The summer heat on this California Rahara is more than tropical. The thermoji.ctcr during the day marks from 123 lo 150 degrees in the shade. Topographi ally, this region may be described as a hv,--lying plain, the greater part of it being elevated but little above sea-level, tvhile some portions arc depressed below lhat level. Scattered over this plain are flusters of basaltic mountains, dark and icraggy; isolated buttes, low, irregular lulls and ever-shifting ridges of sand. The plain itself is of a sedimentary or marine or'gin; the more olevated lands have resulted from igneous agencies. These buttes are, in fact, nothing but the cones of dead volcanoes, and the depressed surfaces simply the beds of driedup seas. There arc two of these low-lying basins within the limits of this southeastern wilderness. One. the site of the salses. or mud volcanoes, is situated ou the Colorado Desert, in the vicinity of Dos Palmas Station, on the Southern Pacific Railroad. The other, known as Death Valley, is located on the northern border of the Mohave Desert, 200 miles further to the north. The former is seventy feet below the level of the sea. and the latter 150. The two cover an area of several thousand square miles. In the basin of the salses. miniature volGanoes forming iind dissolving, and the hot gases escaping from innumerable vents, denote there the continuance of a feeble solfataric action. Owing to the presence of extensive salines, and the rapid evaporation that here occurs, the mirage is frequently seen on these deserts, appearing sometimes in great perfection. These optical allusions take on here not only the sem oiance ot real objects, but also at times many weird and fantastic forma. Lying off in tho hazy atmosphere are. seen what seem to be pellucid lukes, dotted with islands and indented with headlands. Stretching away in the mist are green moadows and groves, with palatial structures and castellated ruins beyond. While we look, the scene undergoes a strange transformation, and taking on less familiar and pleasing shapes, slowly fades away?cloudland of youth?emblem of human hope?! A peculiarity of this wilderness climate is the sand-storm, a meteorological phenomenon not * unlike the simoon that prevails in Arabia and other parts of Africa. It consists of a strong wind, amounting sometimes to a gale, coining up with a black cloud that obscures the sun, fills the atmosphere so completely with sand and dust that vision is obscured, thirst greatly increased, and respiration renacrca extremely difficult. The stifling air, the darkness, the strangeness of the entire surroundings, 611 the traveler with a dread that inclines him to stop and shelter himself as be>t he can from the effects of the gale. JiJven animals are so oppressed with fear When exposed to the sirocco that thew stop in their traeks and obstinately r?fuse to go. Having raged for a day or two, the wind ceases to blow, the dust clouds settle, the air clears up, and the sun, shining out with its accustomed fierccnca-5, restores to the leaden sky its former bra en aspect. Swept by the blast, the sand dunes shift like the billows of the ocean, vanishing in one place and reappearing in another with each recurring tempest. These simoons, though hardly less terrifying than the thunder storms that visit in the summer time countries further east, are by no means so refreshing. Very misleading to the stranger are the maps of this region, with their arroyos and rivers, their lakes and springs, laid down thereon at convenient intervals. It is well to supply, as far as may be, the deficiencies of nature, wherever we find them; wherefore, one appreciates the motive of| he topogaapber in his endeavor to represent this arid and forbidding country as it should be, even while one has to lament that these ad ditions arc almost wholly mythical. Tho only stream of any size in this entiro Edom is tho so-called Mohave River, which, as if abashed at the unmerited honor conferred upon it, hastens to hide itself in the sand, asserting its presence ? ? ? tuen-aiicr oniy in a scries of modest pools, -which, standing apart along its faintly marked bed, grow smaller and smaller, and finally disappear altogether. Of the few springs that have an actual existence here the water in some is so impregnated with salt, soda or othe ,V.Vy'-/v ' '''jf ** V* A*i' $ i f deleterious mineral that it ia wholly unfit to drink. Traveling these deserts, more particularly in the neighborhood of the mountains, are numerous deep ravines, having steep sidos and broad, evenly sloping bottoms. They are tho creations of the j cloud-bursts which are not uncommon J here, and which, when they occur, fill ! these channels with water in a very few ; minutes. The Hood, which soon sub! sides, carries down great quantities of | sand and grnvel; but the gieater portion I I is swi'pt down and deposited at its i i month, where it forms moraines stretch- J ing far out into the plain bolow. A. rav! ine so eroded and afterward partially ; filled up is called a "wash"?"ar:oyo j seco" of the Spaniards. So far ai running streams or useful : forests arc concerned, this may i>c called \ a waterless and a timberless land. Tin ! only trees found growing in it, savesomf [ willow nud cotton-wood along the Colorado River, consist of the several varictiet , of the palm, a wurthless wood, and th( | mesquite, which, though useless for luiu I ber, makes an excellent fuel. Bunch ! grass of a nutritious kind is found growing over a large portion of these deserts; i sparsely in some places and very abundj antly in others. Much of the soil here is, J in fccfc, exccecHngly fertile, aud with ! irrigation capable of producing large crops of both fruit and grain; its sterility is due only to its dryness. The cactus of many varieties abounds. It is a vile shrub, detested alike by man and brute. Reptili 8 take shelter under it, but do not feed upon it. The only animals that abide in these fields of desolation are hares, rabbits, and coyotes. There are no Indians; even the Digger can not live here. Birds are rarely seen. The reptile family is represented by the lizard, the horned tood, and the rattlesnake.? j Orerlar.d Monthly. ; Queer Tavern. I George Wickham, the brother of exi Mayor Wickham, who has just returned j from Europe and dazzled the other diamond merchants with the splendor of ' hi3 importations, describes an eccentric I establishment in Shoreditch, London, known as "Dirty Dick's." The original proprietor would not have the spiders disturbed nor the floor swept, and was imitated by a chop house in Thames street, New York. But he had other peculiarities which are not observed by his successors. No person could be served twice at his bar on the same day. Wags who tried to deceive the landlord by walking out and then coming back through another door, with their coat collars turned up and their hats tipped 41 1 4l??l *\w. | over tneir eyes, uiscovuruu mac mu innkeeper was keen enough to detect them, and that the rule was inflexible. All drinks were the same price. For threepence you might take a glass of ale. of gin, of brandy or of champagne. The queer tavern in a street of London, which corresponds to our Bowery, was the first place in which champagne was sold by the glass. As patent corks were not yet invented, the cranky proprietor preferred to spoil a whole pint of the wine rather than violate his own regulation about prices.?New York Star. History of Coffee. j It was somewhat singular to trace the j maimer in which arose the now common : beverage of coffec, without which few persons, in :injr nan or luuy civur/ea | country in thu world, make breakfast.' ! At the time Columbus discovered America it had never been known or used. It grew only in Arabia and Upper Ethiopia. The discovery of its use as a beverage is ascribed to the superior of a monastery in Arabia, who, desirous of preventing the monks from sleeping at their nocturnal services, made them drink the infusion of coffee upon the reports of .shepherds, who observed that their llocks were more livel}' after browsing on the j fruit of that plant. Ita reputation spread through the adjacent countries, and in 200 years it reached Paris. A single plant, brought there in 1814, became the parent stoc'.i of French coffee plantations in the West Indies. The Dutch introduced it into Java and the East Indies. The extent of the consumption now can hardly be realized. There is trouble over the famous Navarro flats in New York, the model and mammoth apartment buildings that were i to revolutionize methods of living, minimize the inconveniences and annoyances md afford the maxima of comfort, luxary and convenience for housekeepers. The plan doesn't appear to have proved wholly successful, and the insurance company which holds a mortgage of $1,)4 0,000 on the buildings is to foreclose Its claim, while sums aggregating $40,D0i) are due for taxes, water-rent and :>ther incidentals. The condition of affairs seems to indicate that there is a line in apartment-house building which it isn't safe to pass. Persons who can afford to pay for such accommodations as ihe Navarro plan promised not unnatu# A 1 . it. .1.. rnuy proior 111 moBc eases 10 own infur >wn houses. A Pittsburg builder of cheap houses uses matched flooring instead of lath and plaster. On this cotton cloth is glued, md on the cloth wall paper is pasted. This he claims is better and cheaper than ' plaster, and thus houses can be built In cold weather. ) , r ^ , . 9*5' | \ V [ RELIGlblJS READING. Mystery of Chastisement. "Wo glory il tribulatiou also."? Horn. 5:3. Within thi| leaf, to every eye So little wtrlli, doili.hiddeu lij Most rare mdsubtilo frugiaucy. "Wouldst tk>u its secret strength unbind?' Crush it, u\d tb- u shalt jwrfume (ind Sweet as Arabia's spicy wind. Inlbisdul stone, so poor, nn<l bare Ot aIim|)o >r instre, patient core "Will tiui for Lheea jewet rare. But first >mst skillful hands oss.iy, "Willi tilennd fl nt, to clear away '1'b.i tihuwldch bides iU> lire i rom da}r. Tills leal? this stone? It is thy heart; It must ije crushed by pain and smart, It must ie cleansed by sorrow's art. Ero it will yield a fragrance sweet, Ero it will shine a jewel meet To lay before thy dear Lord's feet. ?Hymns of the Ages: What You Cam 1?o. Every follower of Christ can do a great deal of good if he only tries. It is not that his talent is small, but that ii^ does not use it, stands in the way of ones fulness. The Ilev. Spencer Compton tel's of an experience at sea that well sets forth the good that one can do with a little means, if its possessor only is willing and quick-witted enough to make use of them. There was a cry on deck ol 'Man overboard !" Mr. Compton was ia his cnbiu. He felt that he would be useless on deck, but thinking of what he could do, he seized upon the idea ol holding his lamp close to the window, sc that its light would shine out upon the sea. In a moment he heard tho cry, "It's all right 1" That timely light had shown the sailors where to cast the knotted rope so that it reached the man struggling ia the water. It was merely ai little lamp, but what if he had not used it? Shine your light, and many may yet glorify your Father which is iu Heaven. A steadily shining little Lamp is better than an unused eleetric light with a. fortyfoot reflector. Uae the Bridle. A bridle is very nccessary in guiding and restraining an unruly horse; and it is very needful in controlling that unruly member, the tongue. "Don't go without the bridle, boys," was my grandfather's favorite bit of advice. If he heard any one cursing or swearing, or given to much vain and foo'.ish tulle, "that man has lost his l?rid!:\" he would say. "Without a bridle the tongue, though a little member, 'boasteth great things. It is an unruly member, 'full of deadly poison.' Put a bridle on, and it is one of the best servants body and soul can have.' 'I wjII keep my mouth with a bridle,' said King David. Be sure, too, to keep a bridle on your appetite. Don't let it be your master. And don't neglect to have one for your passions, or they will get unmanageable, driving you down a headlong corns.; to ruin." My grandfather was speaking of the bridle of selfgovernment. Good parents try to train and restrain their children; and you cau generally tell by the children's behavior whether they have such wise and faithful parents. But parents cannot do everything. Boys uud girls must have their owu bridles; they must learn to check and govern themselves. Selfgovernment is the most difficult and the most important government to teach of us; hut it becomes easier every day if you practice it with a steady, resolute will, and a firm trust in Him who alone can tench us wisely to rule our own spirits.?N. Y. Observer. The fruit of th? ljpi. God says: ' 'I creatc the fruit of the lips." Isa. lvii. 19. True and loving words are like the ripe fruit that falls from a good tree. All &urh trees God creates now, as lie made the first trees that grew in Eden. How much more beautiful is this inspired figure than the fable of the fairy whose words were liko pearls falling from her lips. Penrls aro beautiful, but fruit is both beautiful and nutritious. Wo need something to feed i upon as well as something to admire. | The starving traveller in the desert who i found a ba<r of diamonds was. disaD pointed. "Oh that it were a bag of beans!" lie cried. And so when we hear eloquent speeches that are as cold as icebergs, we turn away with a gnawing hunger at the heart. Wc say, oh that these trees were like those which God made to grow in His garden, not only "pleasant to the sight," but "good for food." We thought of this divino figure one Sabbath morning. We were in the great congregation. We hung, with thousands ! of other hearers, upon the lips of a man of God. lie spoke as if those lips had been touchcd with a live coal from the altar. His prayers lifted our souls up Into the presence-chamber of God. We sccmcu to Bianu oy mo tnrone 01 grace, and hear the voice of Jesus interceding for us. And then the sermon. It was so thoughtful, so Scriptural, so rich in its expressions of the truth, so mellow in its manifest experiences of the truth, so sweet in its spirit of charity and brotherly love 1 We felt as if we wore in some noble orchard, sitting under the 1 shade of a tree loaded with fruit, whose branches bent down until wo could rcach and pluck all that we needed. As we feasted on thoso "words of life" we thought such trees God only can create. A true minister, who feeds his people "with knowledge and understanding," is the gift of God aa really as the treca of paradise. And such ministers are like trees, also, because they require growth and culture. A scion just set out in tho orchard does not furnish fruit for many fears. It will have a few leaves the first senson. But it must be dug about and fertilized and pruned and watered and kissed by the sun, again and again, seaion after season, ere tho full fruitage apnonrs. And so the mnn wliom Ann ralla to teach and comfort His people must not only bo converted, and thus becomo \ plant of righteousness, but ho must itudy and pray. He must be tomptcd and disciplined until he learns that thcro is no wisdom but that which comes from God, and no strength but in Him. It is In this way that Qod creates the fruit of the lips, by raising up and training men to speak for Him. Let, then, all who have faithful and wise and loving pastors five Qod the glory and the praise.?In&Jfiis?;V.%MPV t ' : 1 a . . . v . HIS PRIVATE. GRAVEYARD, \ A. CURIOSITY OP LIFE IN THE IN- ! DIAN TERRITORY. j Tho Cottonwood Boards at Jones's Station, and What They Signified. OiM * ? vu?i& j Aiia-ji i|;i/iUiin. i A letter from Jones's-Station, Indian Territory, to the New York Sun says: ; ; The traveler in these parts encounters , < j some curious people. When we rcachcd j ] ! here last night it was too dark to see \ j anything outside of the old house which I j ! it was 8;iid was "Jones's." .Jones himself, i < 1 an early settler was hospitably inclined, j < and. though rough and peculiar, was not J | one to suggest unpleasant suspicions, i , | Iiising early this morning, I looked out j , j of the one window in my room, and per- j ceived in the grass not far away a num- ; , i bcr of cottonwood boards standing up- j , ' right, with marks on each which I could j 1 ; not decipher. At first I thought a shed i of some kind had stood there, but at last I , | the idea dawned upon me that the place ' ; i was a graveyaid. i , ! After breakfast,which was well served ] I by Jones's wife aud blooming daughter, , , ! the latter as neat and comely a girl as ( j one would care to see, I walked to the front of the house with Jones and asked I him what those boards in the rear of the ( house were. Jones looked puzzled for a j , minute and started off to see for himself. ( I fol'owing. Just a* he turned the corner of ihc l.ouse he stopped short and ex- , , claimed rather petulantly, I thougth: j 4,Oh, that there's my private cemetery, j . my own cemetery. Everybody has one out here. I ain't had any use for it for ! j so long that I almost forgot it was out I there. The grass is getting pretty high, j j and my eyesight ain't what it >.as, but | * I that's it, stranger. It's a cemetery." I < I wanted to inspect the place a little j | oloser, and had a great curiosity to know . I more about it, which Jones appears to I have recognized, for he moved on with 11 me through the tall grass until we came I to the grave ?. On the board at the head ' of the first grave was this: ' I : One Eyed Man. : * : Killed Sept 22, 1874. Jim Soars. : i "That," said Jones, "is all I know j about him. He came here one night i ' and got into a fight with Jim, and Jim j J laid him out, leaving him here on my | J hands. I'm sort of systematic in my ' ways, and so, thinking that perhaps some j j one would want him, I marked that, j stick, and set it up so that I could tell , J which was which. You see at first I ! didn't go to that trouble, because I could i ' carry them, all in my mind, but after a I . while I got a little mixed, and to be sure i ; about them I just adopted this plan, j Jim Sears was a very reckless fellow, but ; 1 he meant well." : "He appears to have been a good cus- ; tomer ot yours." I said, as I moved along j 1 a peg and read aloud this inscription: ; i : Kiowa Charley. : j : March 15, 1876. Jim Sears. : I I I 1 "0hv woll, yes," said Jones. "Jim I was bore a good deal in his day. He 1 was always on. the go, the queerest chap 1 you ever saw,, mighty quick with his gun, ! aud alwaya anxious to get the drop on somebody. He'd drink a quart of whisky easy at a time. Hero's another man ! j in here somewhere that he left me. Yes, that's him, right there; that one marked Greaser." I didn't know his name. Jim killed him here before breakfast one morning, and gave me $5 to plant him." "Where is Jinx now?" I ventured to ask. 1 * i "* ? * * - ' ; jones iooKea arouna, snaamgms ; closed eyes with, a hairy list, as lie replied: "I've got him, in. here somewhere. He came up here on the warpath a few years ago, and got laid out. There was a ball' here, a?d several, of the boys were over1 from Ferguson's ranch They knew all' | about Jim, and when he tried to get a j bead 011 one of them two others dropped' ' him from behind. It was about the J prettiest piece of work that was ever. | done here, if I clo say it. Jim never ! moved. I dragged him out myself and' i planted him the next morning. Did you ! read what his monument says? I threw ! myself on that." I leaned over, and with some difficulty deciphered tho following: Jim Sears * Killed by Ferguson's Boys, 1881. ; He was ; ; The Terror of the TraiL *; : This monument erocted over his bones ; : By one of bis friends,old Jake Jones. : I xviier tjA|>rc?aiug mjr aprrojai OI tills inscription I passed along and studied the other headboards. One was a blank, and after I had looked at it for some time Jones said: "You won't find anything on that board. That's a plain one. I know who's in there, and the man who is there knows what brought hiiu there. He came here and tried to coax my daughter , off and I fixed him. That wouldn't have , been necessary, perhaps,-only he thought { he could scare me by making believe draw , a gun. I only had a knife, but he got ( the whole of it clean through him. My ^ girl didn't like it, and I came near hav- ^ ing a row with her. Still, she is a good girl, and I'll stand by her. That's the , only one I ever put here myself. All the ( others came to me, and some of the kill- < ings didn't even happen in my place. Here's one, for instance, that was brought , here by the hoys from Campbell's place, and that's the monument they put up themselves." I read on the weather-beaten stick: ; 1 : Sacrod to the memory of Johnny Head. : ; Once he was kicking, but now he's dead. : ; He figured in not less than twenty shoots, : ; Then got it in the neck, and died in his I ; boots. June 27, 1883. : "Over here is another," said Jones. wThe boys were all *?sre one night, and they had a shooting, in which Babe Carter got it between the eyes. They fixed up mis board for him that night, and I have left it there." In very plain characters the inscription ] was: ! 1 : Babe Carter died here : H : In the spring of tbu year : i ; With a bullet between the eyes. : ] If any one will stand still : , : And yell "Let's drink!" with a will, : : It's probable that he will rise. 1 \ ; 1 Over in one corner of the graveyard, 1 ? <'!-; ' n N V$? , jivzu&i '5 > {; " ^ * .<* A. . . ' ' , V in a little pTace tliat appeared to have been set apart, and which bore evidence 5f having been cared for at ono time, was a grave marked with a board on which was written: I Dial August 15$, 1871), ' : "There is rest for tbo weary." I As Jones began to tell me about tlie occupant of this grave he headed for the house, and wo walked slowly away together. "That was a girl." he said, a* if he thought 1 might imagine that Flora was the name of some desperado. "She came through here that summer looking for her husband. She was from Illinois somewhere, and he was a bad egg, I guess. Two or three times she stopped liere, always getting thinner and paler and sadder. My old woman took pity on her arid found out what she was up to. Then we tried to lind her man, but it was no go. You can't put your finger on a fellow that's wanted in these parts. She stayed here several weeks, watching everybody that passed, and at last, as hope and strength faded away, she fell sick and died. "We buried her out there, and my wife told me what to put on the board, which I reckon ain't bad. Flora was a nice girl, but she didn't have no aand. That's what I wanted to put on the board, but Mrs. .Tones objected: She Baid that wheu women died here she was going to write the boards, and as that seemed reasonable I let her do it. That's the only one, though*.and I.hope-there'll never bo another." care or reetn. A mouthful of good teeth is one of the are gifts of nature. Like bright eyes, jink-mooned finger-nails, or a fine com* ileqion, they indicate the bequests of leredity, and are. symbolic of a sweet jreath, good digestion and a wholesome itomach. A wealth of dentine is not as lighly prized as formerly, owin<* to the emarkable progress made in dentistry within the last quarter of a century. Molar-menders think nothing of working l cheval-de-frise sort of a set of teeth nto a double row of most presentable vories, and the skill with which china ;eeth are made to duplicate nature is suficient to keep the genuine articles under l constant ban of suspicion. All these 'acts wore doubtless known to the fashonable mother who prayed for "just jood eyes and a fine complexion" for her ittle daughter. Eyas and skin from lature, and art can manage the rest, at east to the satisfaction of the modern beauty. In remodeling teeth, everything fails before the final surrender to a false set. Where they overlap space ha? to be made it the sacrifice often of good material, ind when, by accident, a tooth is wanted,' the gap is tilled by spacing the wholo :ow. T n iVtn rtrtl rtf 4-nnfVt 01 m Aof O a XU Lug Vyl/tui \Jk WCCblA UlUiVOb OO UiUX/U variety exists as in hair and eyc9. Some teeth are naturally grey, yellowish or bluish in cast, and to try to whiten them is time wasted. The only solace lies in keeping them clean. and straight. It is immaterial to any one with a moustache 5r a very long upper lip, whether he has any front teeth or not. With ladies or beardless men, especially those who laugh much with the lips, a remedy is sought among the Del s'Arte people. These refiners- of nature attempt, and with success, too, to cultivate a very low voice in speaking, forbid the license of heated discussion, and endeavor to cultivate a laugh in the eyes, rather than about the lips. The training is a long and tedious task,, but there are few ordeals too severe far a fashionable man or woman to> endure, when the goal is good looks. It is almost impossible to say anything new on the subject of powders. The best powder is the one that does the least barm to the gums and keeps the enamel clean. Wintergreen is safe as any polish, but a frequent use of soft brush and warm water renders much of that cleansinc nnwder auncrfluous. Teeth that are brushed four times a day will not need a powder more than once a week. Toothpicks are indispensable, and even with them it is often necessary to run a thread between the teeth to remove any possible Accumulation or splinter. There might be a diminution of dentistry bills if those who have teeth would take the trouble to clean them once a month. Five cents' worth of pumice stone will cover a year, and nothing but a match is needed to start with. Dip the pine in the stone and rub above and between the teeth till all trace of mineral accumulation has been removed. The inside surface must be eleaned separ*f1 *r at?r1 t)io toclr Aniafind Itv ruhhina the face and crown of the tooth with a 10ft handkerchief dipped in the powder. Unless the operation is made habitual it mil consume the best part of an hour to oroduce any good effects.?Inter- Ocsan. Animals Doctoring: Themselves. A French physician and savant says that animals are as ?ood practitioners of medicine as a majority of the human species, and that in hygiene man may take a lesson from them. Elephants, jtags, birds and ants wash themselves or bathe. Some animals get rid of parasites by the use of dust, mud or clay. Those suffering from fever restrict their diet, keep quiet, seek darkness and airy places, drink water, and sometimes plungo into it. If a dog loses his appetite, he eats "dog's grass." Sheep when ill seek out certain herbs, and puss also finds an smetic or a purgutivo in a certain species jf grass or herbs. When a dog is constipated, he eats fatty substances with ividity. An animal suffering from rheumatism keeps in the sun. The warrior ints have ambulances, and when an investigator cut the antennae of an ant, >ther ants covered the wound with a transparent fluid, from their mouths. \ wounded chimpanzee stops the bleeding of a wound by placing leaves md grass on the wound. A dog >n being stung on the muzzle by a viper, plunged his head repeatedly for several lays in running water, and recovered. A iporting dog was run over by a carriage. During three weeks in winter he re named lying in a brook, whore his food was taken to him, and lie also recovered. i. terrier dog hurt his right cyo. He renamed lying under a counter, avoiding ight and heat, although ho, had previ- , nisly been in tho habit of hooping close jo tho flro. He rested, abstained from "ood, licked his paw? and applied It to ;he wounded eyo. y'-M 1 *9