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----.--. .--'-. . .-. TRI-WEEKLY EDITION. 1880. S. C. DEEME COMING BAOK. They say it our beloved dead Should scek the old familiar place, Some stranger would be there instead, And they would find no welcome place. I cannot tell how It might be' In other homes, but this I know - Could my lost darling come to me, That she would nover find it so. Ofttimes the flowers have come and rone, Otttimes the winter winds have blown, The while her peaceful rest went on, And I have learned to live alone. Have slowly learned from day to day, In all lif's tasks to bear my part; But whether grave or whether gay, I hide her mtemory in my heart. Fond,. faithful love has blessed my way, And friends are round me trae and tded They have their place, but her's to-day Is empty as the day she died. How would I spring with bated ;reath, And joy too deep for word or sign, To take my darling home from death And once again to call her mine. I dare not dream the bhseful dream; it fille my heart with wild unrest ; Where yonder cold, white marbles aleam She still must slumber. God knowi best. One Midsummer Eve. A Bloomsburg lodging; on the second floor, too. Everything looks dingy, mel lowed down to that uniform brownish hue, the combined result of London smoke and "smuts." Yet it is a pretty little room for all that, with a decided air of being habitually ten anted by refined occupants., A cheap but artistic-looking cretonne covers the furniture, and a few' excellent prints and well-executed oil paintings adorn the walls. One ray of the sunlight of this glorious midsummer eve makes Its way through the chimney pots opposite. It peeps into the room, making a glory and a bright spot of color on a peacock's fan, and glints loving ly upon the golden hair of a girl' who sits on a low carved old chair, with an open letter in her hand. She Is-about nineteen or twenty, slight and graceful-looking, with a mass of golden hair crowning a small, exquisitely-shaped head, well set upon her shoulders. 8he wears a long, plainly-made, tightly-fitting dress of soit gray cashmere, with little white rufiles at her throat and wrists, and the hands which hold the letter are small, white, aLd daintily shaped. The face is oval, with just the faint suspicion of a faint shell-pink in the rounded cheeks, which deepens into a more vivid hue in the well-shaped lips. Dark blue eyes, starry as the passion flowers, gleam from her long dark laehee, and such Is Alison Harte, artist. She takes up the letter again and reads it. -It runs thus "MooREFiaLD, June 20th. "DEAR ArLisoN,-I daresay you have al most forgotten the existence of your uncle John, as you have never written to me since your mother's death, six months ago. A friend of mine was in London this sea son, and, of course, went to see the exhibi tion of the Royal Academy, and the other day, when looking over his catalogue, I saw the name of Alison Harte, together with your address. I am very glad to find you have so far succeeded at your Airofes sion of an artist as to have a picture hung in the Royal Academy. I am told it is in Devonshire-the home of your mother's youth. You have never been there since you were a child, so the place must have niade an impression upon you. It flatters an old man like me to think that some of the young people of the present day are not so utterly selfish and taken up with the world but that they can find time to recol lect the scenes of their childhiiod. "Slhould you care to renew your acqualn tance with llevonshirc, only say so, and I shall be happy at any time to see you at Moorfields. I trust your father Is well, Just let me have a lhne to 'say you will come soon, and believe ine, your afiectbon ate uncle. ' "JoHNK lIELLIH." Such is the letter which Alison liarte holds In her hand.. Dearly she would like to accept her uncle's Invitation, for the girl leads a hard hPN. life, coining her brains for her daily bread, working hard at her art, so as to keep a roof over her head, and that of her father. Thue latter calls himself a "ilterary man," but in reality Is a lazy, gin-drinking sot, doing a little back press-work now and * again, for his proclivities are too well known for anyone to think of employing Rtupert Harte regularly. ISo ho lives on the earnings of his daugh ter. lHe is'her skeleton in the, cupboard, and it is of her father she thinks as she sits with, her uncle John's letter In her * hand. Rapidly she thinks over the state of her slender tinances. Idhe hungers and yearns for a little brlghthess and bravery In her life. '1 his Midsummer Eve she feels stifled .with the heat and stiffness of London, and feels she would lhke a blow in Exmoor For est, or in the delicious Valley of Rocks in her dear dead mother's native Devonshire. - uddenly she stands tip, and takes two small oil p~aintings from the top of an old bureau, and looks critically at thorn. tiho thinks for a moment, glances at the clock on the mantleplece, and hses it Is * only seven. 'Plenty, of time,", she soliloquizes. "Chambers does not shut until verylate, and I might get a couple of gwneas for these."* She packs them up In a portfolio, and then, putting on her hat andi a small black flchu, sets oif for a picture dealer's in the Gray's-inn-read. It Is a good long walk, and Alison Harto se tired by the time she reaohes the dingy .little shop, which she soon leaves, her portfolio lighter and her miesgrely-tilled purse just one sovereign and a half heavier, klowever; Alison Hatteohws not had much of the brightness of life. She knows joy only by negatives-always thankful when "things are no Wros9"-so she feels com paratively glad that she had disposed of her little sketches fcr oven soesmall a sum, -It wIll be a help, she reflects, if she can niansge to-go to her uncle's at Moorsfields, Oh, MsHatel" 'The exclamation proqkeds from the grimy maid-of-all-work, as she meet Alison In the dln hall when she arrives at the Bloomsburg lodgings after nine. "What is the matter, Jano?" she in. qulres, her heart standing still with some vague feelings of apprehension. Your father, miss I" "Well?" "tie's very ill, miss." Tais is a goodnatured evasion of Jane's, who loes not care to say Rupert Harte has been lrought home helplessly intoxicated. Alben waits to hear no more. A barn ing fhtsh of shame passes over her face, and sbe hurriedly rushes up the stairs and enters he sitting-room. Upol. the sofa lies her father4n a state of stupqr, his neckeloth removed whilst a tall man--a total stranger--stbuds by him. He raies his hat as Alison enters the apartmeat, "I havc to apologize for my seeming in trusion," e says, in a grave, pleasant voice; "bit I found this gentleman taken Ill in the steet, and I have taken the liberty of bringing him home." "Thank you," says poor Alison, the wave of shalted color again rushing bver her face. "his is my father. I shall at tend to him mw." As she i speaking, the gentleman glances 4t a roigh sketch which hangs over the sofa. i 1le is about thirty years of age, tall and 1.,1ad-shoulder, with a russet-brown b4ard, good, kindly brown eyes, and a handsome moutl, which shows beneath his short moustache. "I am sure I do not know how to thank you," murmurs Alison, as he bows gravely in reply to her fornier words. "You can thank tme," he says, with a little smile, "by telling ine If. you are the painter of the sweet Devonshire landscape which is in this year'q Acey. That is the rough sketch of it, 1apc * II And he indicates- e sketch over the sofa. "I am Alion Harte, and the painter of the picture," she replies, simply "But look! There is something dreadful the matter with my father." His face has become of a curious ashen color, whilst a thin white line appears around his thin lips. The gentleman gives one glance at him, and then says "I shall go and fetch a doctor. But the rider on the Pale Horse has come, and by the dawn of the midsummer day Alison Harte is an orphan. The summer's glorious radiance has fled; Autumn is throwing her russet mantle over valley and uplard, and Aison Harte. gath ering her slender resources together, has come to Antwerp-the city of Rubes there to study the works of the great mas ter. She feels very lonely. HeF eccentric uncle John she has offended because she will not accept his proposal utterly to give up her art, and to become his housekeeper in the dull old Devonshire manor house. H enry Staunton. t.hn man who had brought her father home on that midsum mer Eve, she had seen very often, and then his visits suddenly ceased, and left an aching void in her life which Alison wculd not acknowledge even to herself. "A letter for you, Miss Harte," says the servant of the pension where she boards, as she arrives home fron the studio one afternoon. It is official-looking, and It is bordered with black. Ahson takes It to her roonL, Iisurely opens it, her amazement growing greater and greater as she proceeds It is from a firm of well-Known London solicitors. Her uncle, John Mellish, of Moorsfields, is dead, and he has left her sole heiress to his property on the condi tion that she marries the only son of his old friend, Jacob Hemworth, whose prop erty joins Moorfields. There Is to be no appeal from this deci sion-if Alison refuses the property goes to Jacob kiemworth's son. Alison is indignant. She knows. her uncle was always eccentric, but she has not been prepared for this. No, she can not marry a man she does not know any thing about. Her pure womanhood re volts againt the idea of giving her hand without her heart, and of late it has occur red to her that her heari has gone out o.f her own keeping. Alison Harte sits down and writes to the lawyers, quietly informing them that she does not care for property hampered with such conditions. A week passes away, Ason is too re ticent to maake many'friends, and1 there fore, has not spoken of . the lawyer a letter to anyone. She devotes herself as usual to her work, and returns late one after noon, very weary ani fagged, to find Henry Staunton waiting to see her.. She can scarcely restrain her emotion at the sight of a friend. He takes her two hands in his, and, look. log down at her, says, in a concerned tone "You are looking tired. Why, you look as though you could '' 1 blown away, you seem so fragle." Alson looks np at I. ~ 'ictively she feels a rest sod a sheit .e grasp of his strong hands, and .", looks at him for that one brief instait there is a look in his kind eyes which she cannot mistake. "Alison," he whispers, bonding over her, "I have come for you. Can you love me sufficiently to be my wife?9" A start and a quick flush is the only re sponse, It is enough for Henry Staunton, and he folds her in his strong, shelterlng arms. "And so, Ahison," he says, tantalizing ly, "you were fond of me all along ?" "What do you mean 1" she inquires. "Did you not refuse Mooresfields because it was burdened with Jacob Hemisworth's son ?" "How do you know 9'' "I know a good many things," he says, lookiog down at her .sweet face, "more than you do, for you did not know that I am Jacob -emsworth's son; but I tbved you, and wanted you to love me for my. self. I am Henry Staunton Hemsworth." "Yes," she replies, softly, her heart filled with a great joy, "I could not think of marrying anyone else, because I loved you." One Midsummer Eve the young mistres of Moorlelds returned to her mother's old home the happy wife of Jtacob Hemisworth's son. --The leadinug pulishing houses of New Yoyk, Biostoui and Philadelphia hale agreed tWocontribute 8,400 volumes towards the formation of a public Ii brary in the towl of Rlugby,'Aennes se., founded byv Mr. Thomas Mughes. Air Ruangnes.V A practical experiment has been made ' with an air engine at Woolwich, which so 0 far affords hope that before long humanity ti and economy may be promoted by the e abolition of tramway horses, -and that the h sufferings of travelers by the underground L railways may be mitigated by the substi tution of atmospherical power for sulphur- h ous locqmotives propelled by steam. The i engine, which has been designed by Major ' Beaumont, Royal Engineer, has been for C some time running on the short lines of t the Royal Arsenal, Woolwich, and although 1 weighing but ten tons it has proved capable 2 of hauling a burden of sixteen tons up a a fair incline. Arrangements were made to e try its powers In a more extended run,such f as engines of the kind would have to en. counter on London tramways and tails. 0 The air reseivoir, which contains only 100 a cubic feet of air, was charged at the tor- ' pedo pumping-hoase in the Royal Arsenal, Woolwich, up to a pressure of 1,000 t pounds to the square inch, and with this 11 store of energy it was proposed to run C to and from Dartford, about sixteen miles. Major Beaumont was accompanied b on the engine by Mr. U. S. Sears, Assist ant Superintendent of the Southeastern U Railway, and several other gentlemen, and V explained the methods which he had adopted in his invention, the chief feature a of which was ti o introduction of an almost a imperceptible supply of steam, by which 0 the air, as it is admitted to the cylinder t from the reservair, is largely heated, and, as a matter of course, greatly increased in force. The engine is driven by six cylin ders and a double set of machinery at one C end, and, having no smokestack, resembles ti in appearance a locomotive tender rather g than a locomotive. It runs on four wheels, I and in size is less than an ordinary omni- l bus. It left the Royal Arsenal station at c 12:22 P. M. with a full charge of 1,000 fil pounds to the inch; passed Abbey Wood a station at 12:27.P. M., with 940 poundseto Ul the gauge; Belvedere at I:33, with 860 ' pounds, and Erith at 12:U6, with 760 it pounds, arriving at Dartford at 12:50,with ti a running energy of 540 pounds on the 0 square inch. Shunting at the statlon re- M duced this pressure somewhat, and at 1:85 im the return journey commenced with a store 0. of 510 pounds, although the minimum for fc effective working is considered to be a a pressure of 200 pounds. Plunstead sta- h tion was reached again at 2:10, but. the on- ti gine was nearly pumped out, having a tr pressure of barely 80 pounds remaining. ft The strange looking engine, running with. j out steam or any other apparent motive a' power, was regarded with amusing won- te der by the country people as it passed at at full speed, and was naturally an object of il unusual Interest at the various railway i stations. It was stated that another engine n is under construction much more power- a: ful, capable, in fact, of travelling double < the distance with a single charge. The t( operation of pumping: the "compressed air P1 occupies about fifteen nunntes, and it Is ti oaIouIated that an Oir onaino on - tho inAin- el ciple as large as the usual steam locomotive I of fifty tons weight would be considerauly b more powerful than any locomotive yet bi made. The objection to steam that It a frightens horses cannot apply to this sys- g tem, as there is noescape of steam visible P or audible, and the only noise to be dis- a9 tinguished is a rumbling sound something ti similar to the rattle of street traffic. The ti gdner l belief of those who witnessed the a expeilmeut was that the application of at- b mospheric power to the science of travel- a ling was a thing of the near future. 0 p a1auing a Woman neaunsa I. There is i' New York, an extensive e establishment . devoted to the fine art of I making swomen beautiful. The store itself n is filled With bright and attractive cases of al cosmetics, bair goods, frizettes, curls, wigs, ii switches, chigilons, and ornaments for the fi hair. Inthe *rear are hair-dressing and e shampooing-rpoms, but in the secoiid story, d which ia reached by b passenger elevator, tI is the salon, the sanctum sanctorum of the fi art of being made beautiful. No man is ever permitted to enter this room. It is a long, lofty apartment, the finishings in gold and black, and old gold, red, and bright gold. The cabinets in which the cosmetics are kept are of black ebonized carved wood, with gilded traceries. The. sofas and divans are of crinson plush and brocatello. Large mirrors, in black and gold frames, are in each. end of the room, between the windows. Other large nurors are set in. the walls on the side be tween the black and gold cabinets. The front windtows are shaded with lace cur tains ; those at the back are filled with stained glass panes, and open into a con servatory, Where twittering canaries make C music in ti e perfume-laden atmosphere. Opening into this 8salon are dressing rooms, , whore ladles retire to have their hair sham pooed aund dressed, and where the intricate a art of making up is praedised. This is the c way the thing is done, as described by a lady who went thioughi the entire pro peas: 'After throwting off my polonaise and C having a peignoir thrown around my shoulders, my hair was taken out of the little knot into which I had twisted it and was shampooed. It was then -dried and' combed up from miy face and neck, and smoothed at the edges with bandoline, ap plied with a small flue sponge. Miy eyes were then bathed wil clafr de ltmec. This is an eye tonic, and makes the eyes exceedingly brilliant. Next, with a mag nifying glass in her hand, my coiffouso went over my face, neck, arms, anc shioul ders, carefully inspecting every part, and with a pair of fine tweezers she removed every suiperfluouis hair. 1"rom a little bo x she dipped with a small, fine, soft sponge a creaniy, rose-tinted. oeimetic, and care fully applied it to my age, arms, hands, 'neck, and shoulders, r.ubbing and blending it carefully and evenlyjover the entiro sur face. She told me tli~ he used rose-tint ed creme becanfe I was p ile; for 'ruddy blondes white creme is used; for bru nettes, buff 'tinted. There are finishing powders, too, in all these shades, "After the creme was rubbed in I was ready for a bit of color in my cheeks and lips.. This was applied from a roug6 cup with what is called, and I suppose is, a rabbit's foot. The color was rubbed deftly into my cheeks, a little around my eye, on my. nostrils, . chin, and ears, and then my lips were tinged with liquid vegetable, in' delibie rouge. Then, with a powder puff of swan's down, she went ever the whole with a rosy-white blending powder, brush ing it off carefully with another puff. Now, my eye-brows wore brushed otld and shaded with fard indiae. Thbis wa done with a leather stamn. As tha4 'eme d4 eloutine powder had hidden all my veins, pith a blue pencil they wore now traced on iy hands, arms, neck, and temples. With io same pencil a line was traced under ach of my eyes and shaded off with a vesh stamp. All this requires the eye and and of an artist. "Then a front coiffure, with waves fall. ig on my forehead, and curly hair, thirty iches long. falling bapk, was pinned on rith invisible hair pins to my own scanty hAvelure, and, twining it around a coil in ie back, it was formed with a switch of toderate size in a low coffnre, a la Grec.. ti. A few little waving cdrls were dded, falling on my neck, and behind my irs a few stray loclis were drawn out anu .izsed; for, as my coiffvuec, said, the ire should ever be set as*it were in a spray t hair. Then my eyelashes were trimmed, nd last of all my nails were soaked, cut, uted, and polished, and I was supplied ith a set of toilette des bonyglee and all io cosmetics I had used and a boeinetic iask. The whole outfit cost me-- ; you w pay $100 for an outfit If you choose." Of course every lady who goes to the Bautirul bazaar does' not need, nor does ie take, a complete make up. .It is aston. hing what a few touchos of rouge, crene, Sloutinc and fard will ao foi a moderate good-looking woman, when applied by a artistic coiffeuse. Then, a very little Iditional hair, a false front, and a curl or Yo in the back will completely transform ko contour of a woman's head and face. Nut-lEaring Trees. Few things that can be obtaited at a mparatively small expense, add more to Le pleasures and profit of a farm than a )od assortment of nut-bearing trees. early all persons, old as well as young. ke to gather nuts in the fall, and all enjoy racking and eating them before a blazing re in winter. Many of our native nuts re the equal of those that are impoited if icy are properly-cured, and the pecan, hich can be cultivated further north than is found in its wild state, is superior in LC opinion of most pereons to any variety ' foreign nuts. Hog are very fond of ting nuts, and will wainder long distances the woods in search of them. Thousands hogs are fattened every year on the mast und in the river bottoms in the 8outhern id South-western States. When farmers avq a plenty of mast they ate saved the ouble of raising corn. Most nut-bearing ees are ornamental as well as well as use I. The recan shell-bark and common ckory are very stately when fully grown, id are beautiful when young. The but rnut and black walnut are shapely trees all stages of their growth, and present a ie appearance when they become large, Is not advisable to plant the black wal it in gardens or cultivated fields, or in ty place where the roots will extend in i that is under cultivation. It is better plant them along the sides of roads, in katurei or on broken ground that is of lit 3 or no value for ordinary farm crops. 11"y m-wy hea sw~avr 16% 0--.u "Uty a , lanes leading to pastures, or on the iuk of streams and ravines. Walnut and itternut thrive well and produce abund itly when grown on bottom land that has xd drainage. It is very dilicult to trans ant nut bearing trees, even when they e quite young, on account of their long ,p-roots. If this root is cut off and the ce removed with a ball of frazen earth Iherring to it, it may live several years; it the chances are that it will never make very thrifty or productive-tre. It is ac )rdingly better to plant the nuts in the laces where the trees are desired. They ay be planted in the fall, but there Is ome danger of their being dug up and ten by small amMals. If planting is do. yed till spring, the nuts should be placed, aarly as soon as they are gathered, in mallow boxes of sand or light soil and left an exposed condition where they will emz. it is best to excavate a hole soy al feet deep, and fil it with manure or ecayed leaves and loose,soil, and to place mo nuts within a few inches of tile sur ice. This will insure a vigorous growth. flow so Have Ice Next Sumnaer. A great many people do without Ice in io sunmmer-though the ponds and treams at their doors 'furnish an bundant supply every winter-simply ecause they imagine that an expensive ye-house is needed to hold the ice. A entlemnan who once labored under the une delusion, describes the experience by rhich he was led to store his summer sup ly of ice successfully, without an ice,. ouse, after paying dearly In disappoint lent, loss of ice and loss of money through aving "too, much ice-house." Hie was anvinced of lis error by the circumstance iat the more p~ains he took with his ice ouse the more rapidly his ice incited, rhile a neighbor who had no ice-house at Ii always had plenty of ice. Tihe practice f the latter was sin'ply to pile his ice in a guaro body under a cow-shed having a orthern exposure, the first layer of ice eing rased above the ground so as to so ure good drainage, and the whole covered bickly with sawdust. Beards set on end round the ice pile served t- keep the saw ust in place. Thie gentleman referred to ays: A pilQ. of ice six feet high, eight eet wide and eight feet long wdit make 84 cubic feet. And this is enough for thu se of an ordinary famnly for the table and ai cool the cream, etc.. Six team loads fill an Ice-house which contains about 400 ubic feet. The blocks should be cut as mooth as possible and square, so they vili fit closely, and then ice must be hopped up fine and crowded in between he pieces so as to mnaie a solid mass. The loser the ice is pa4'ked, and~the more solid he mass is united together, the better it vill keep. When an ice-house is too close here is a great deal of cordensation, vhich makes the whole contentsi wet and tripping, and'causes the ice to melt rap. dly. The ace must be kept as dry as pos. ible, one secret of keeping ice being ilenty of- ventilation. The mnord ice there s in a pile the better it will keep. A smal luantity must be covered deeper and hicker than a large ma. A large mass wili almost keep itself. 1t does not re iniare the protection of sawdust, but straw >r a double wall of boards will be ample. Ihvery person who makes butter ought to avo ice. it will more than pay for use a the dairy, and then for the family it la luxury every provident man should sup. >dy. . -Decidedly the largest wheat fieldi in the world are to be found in Wash ungton Territory and Calfornia. T4p Blaciulook Wheat fGrowing Company of Washington Territoryv has in culti. ration 00009 acres of wheat land. ituatan Superstition. Many are the fantasi.ical beliefs and curl ous the remnants of paganian still deeply rooted in the Russian peasant's daily lif. They have their nymphs of the forest and of the river; the spirits of their dead an cestors haunt the dwellings of the living; and every country baba with whom I over cojversed has seen the "devil" at least once in her lifetime, and Is able to give a minute description of his appearance. Rich and poor at thetime of baptism receive asmall cross, which they wear for the rest of their days round their necks, underneath their clothing,--not merely as a badge of Chris tiauity. but as an amulet to weaken the pow er of the evil one. When sickness or mis fortune conies, the peasant has recourse to a witch-doctor, and goes through a variety of pagan rites and incantationS to ward olf the evil; his religion itself, his orthodox church prayers, the glazed look he bends on the painted ikon, the coun:,less genu flexions and knockings on the church pave ment with his brown and wrinkled fore. head, all remind one rather of a negro ad dreping his fetich than o! a Christian in a house of prayer. Last Alarch the cattle disease niade its appearance in the village of Ozersk, government of kalooga, and spread with alarming rapidity frem byre to byre. The Zemstvo veterinary surgeon lived sone miles away, and, instead of seeking his advice, the peasants hung amu lets, in the shape of little bags of garlic, round their cows' necks, and jumped over their prostrate fornis with one foot, holdtng a censer with lighted incense in the oppo site hand. These measures proving of no avail they were seized by a panic, and called together a village assembly, arguing long and loudly as to the beat means of frightening away the cattle plague. It was decided that according to the traditions of their forefathers, their women should march round the village at dead of night, plow a furrow in the sand, and so chase away the plague. At eleven o'clock the men were shut up by order of tue Starost, the women and girls remaining out on the village green. At the first stroke of midnight, a girl, chosen from the band, placed a horse collar over her shoulders, and allowesi her self to be yoked to a wooden plow : two girls behind her laid a hand under either handle, two more took up the place of the plowman and guided the plow, while an. other marched in front, holding aloft a miracle-working ikon. The plow was also preceded by a widow with a basket full of sand, which she strewea quickly as she went along to mark the line where the plow should make the furrow. Ao light of any kind was to accompany them, and yet should the furrow deviate to right or left of the sandy line the charm would be broken. Happuy for the success of the undertaking the soil in Kalooga is black, the sand white, and the night, let us hope, was a moonlight one. Ap immense female crowd followed in the rear, beating furIous ly on kettles, stove lids, etc., und trying to make their voice sound as like the howling ut 0Uuu wmnu in a anuwaiurna as pu~siuu. The procession marched first to the church door, sang a weird, heathenish refrain, went through the quick step and arm-waft ing of an old national dance, and then went on its way three times round the vil lage from west to east. The ceremony over, another widow, with a pot of tar, made a black cross within a circle on every door-post--a sacred sign which bars the entrance of evil spirits. nerosn of Lmitiouse Keepers. It was a grand and heroic conception to build a lighthouse on the Eddystone, but what shall be raid of the men who first of all tried the experiment of dweiling in the horrible isolation of that storm-beaten edifice, cut off from the rest of the world, uncertain whether the building would stand the test of the storm, deafened by the roar of the waters which sometimes would shiodt right over the lantern, or dash headlong against the lighthouse with fearful vio lence, causing every part to vibrate as thoeughthecwho'efabilec were instan~t mnoously going to pieces? I t is ireorded that only two men attended~ the lighthouse built by Rudyard, and that one was seized with sudden illness and died. It was in the roughest time of the year, and although the survivor hoisted a signal of distress, no boat could reach the rock. What to do with the dead body he did not know. At first he thought he would throw it into the sea, but he was hindered by the fear lest the friends of the deceasedi might charge him with the crime of murder. For a whole month the weather continued bois terous, and for the whole month the soli tary survivor kept the light all night now that his comrade could no longer share the duty, watch by watch, with him, and| for that whole month he kept tihe .body ofI the dead man, although it had fallen into horrible corruption. Can any more terri ble strait be conceived than that in which the brave fellow was placed ? Yet we do not even know lia name. All we know Is that in almost every great work of public utility involving hazardous labor, if one or two men have comne to the front and left their names for the admiration of posterity, there have always been a hundred obscure heroes who have lhved and died and loft no sign, but without whose strong nerves and great hearts those works would never have been accomnplhed. I he Yak. To the Kirghiz the yak, or kash-gow is as inv.milabie as the reindct r to the Lap, lander, or, in another way, as the camel to the Arab. Its milk Is rIcher, than that of the cow, and its halh is woven into clothes and other fabrics. Where a man can walk a yak can be ridden. -t is a remarkably sure-footed; like the elephant, It has a won derful sagacity in knowing what will bear its weight and in avoiding hidden depths aDd 6.sms; and when a pass or gorge be comecs blocked by snow (provided It be not frozen) a score of yaks driven in front will snake a highway. Tis strange creature frequents the mountain slopes and their levei summits; it needs no tenintg, and finds its food at all seasons. If the snow on the helghts lies too deep for him to find the herbage, he rolls himself down tt.# slopes and eats his way up aga'n, displac ing the snow as lie ascends. When arriv ed at the top he performs a second somer sault down the slope,' and displaces a sec ond groove of snow as lie eats hIs way to the top again. Theo yak cannot bear a tem perature above freezing, and in summer it leaves the haunts of men arnd ascends far up the mountains to the "old ice," above the limits of perpetual snow, its calf being retained below as a pledge for the mother's return. which she novar faile. to do. A Pleasanst Lie. Recently, astranger whose appearance was a dead give-away on his empty pockets, entered an office In Exchange place, Do. treit, and asked: "Do I look like a missionary about to sall for India?" "No, air," was the prompt reply. "That's right. I like people to be frank with me. Do I look as if I could convert any great number of heathens if I should turn missionary?" "No, sir." "Good agtain. Would you advise me to turn missionary?" "No, air." "Thanks. I see you are a bnsiness man. I'm another. I came in here calculating to tell you that I was a missionary about to sail for India, and ask you for a small donation. You wouldn't have given me a cent, would you?" "No, sir." "That's plum, and it pleases me. Now, then, I'll tell you the truth. I've no money, nothing to do, don't want work, expect to have a close rub this winter, and will be much obliged for the loan of ten cents." "Can't spare it." "Not even when I tell the truth?" "No, sir." "Then you don't care whether I lie or tell the truth?" "No, sir. I can't see how it affects me any." "Very well. It does me good to find a frank, honest man, and on the whole, I'm not disappointed. If you had lent me a (lime it would have gone for whisky and been wasted; if you had believed me I should have lied to you, Seems as it you might recommend me to soein one in the block on whom a pleasant lie would have effect; but I won't press the matter. Au revoir!" Curing Cancer*. An eninvent doctor a the Eastern States. was wont to boast of his skill in curing cancers, and he invarlbly alluded to a most difficult case lie treated in another town as j "most remarkable case " and the doctor would close his eyes in a seemingly jeep reverie as he uttered the words, and then Ie would repeat them two or three times in gradually receding tones of voice, like the falling cadence of a dying echo- "most re markable case; most renqrkable case." The old doctor's manner was such as. to leave the impression that the cure was quite as remarkable as the case. On one occasion a gentleman who had a cancer on his face, had pretty much made up his mind to visit Now York for treat ment, when he happened in to this Hart ford, Conn. physician's office, and was so impressed with the "remarkable case" that lie concluded to be doctored at home, and went to the doctor's office to make arrange. ments for the operation. The doctor was answered the bell, and the cancer patient got into conversation with the lady, and among other things Innocently asked how that gentleman out in the country was get ting along. "What geutleman do you refer to ?" quored-the doctor's wife. "Why, that desperate case-that 're markable case' which your husband al ludes to so frequently." "Oh," said the wife a little solemnly, "lie's dead. He died during the opera tion." The man left word that he would call again, and then took the next train to New York. Here is a parallel case: A doctor had discovered an infallible remedy against the cauomer. He lately undertook a splen did case, treated it splendidly, and buried it ditto. While lecturing to his anatomical class lie said: "Gentlemen, I am going to demonstrate to you, by the examination of the proper organs, that my patient died cured." Hisiorlo stones. .The Trrunstein,or"Stone of Betrothal," dates from the time of Odin. It is a large hole mn the rock of suficient dimensions for a man to pass his hand through it and graip another bn the other side. In the Orkneys "lStandhing lStones of Stennis," there is a similar atone, which is called the Stlone of Odin. Until the middle of the Last century this atone was the witness of betrothal, marriage vows, and solemn con tracts, and whosoever violated the vow "made to Odin" was avoided as infamous. Children who were passed through the hole were supposed to be insured against j.alsy. The word Traun signifies "betrothed." Those in the Orkneys were orlginallya semi circle of tall uprightatones one sido of a lake, and a sinilar group of circular pillars which stood on the projecting promontory of the adjoining lake. The atones were upward of twenty feet high and of immense size; between the two lakes was a narrow neckc of land, and over this a curious bridge of rough stones throwna into the formi of a causeway. Besides the stones mentioned there were the Logan stones, great pose. ..f stones so cunningly fitted one upon another that if the upper one were touched in a certain spot with the finger it would move, but no strength of a man could otherwise move it. This was the trial stone which could be made to show a person guilty or innocent, as best suited the pagan priests. Similar stones were remarked by Pliny, A. D. 100, who mentiona one near Hiar posa, which "might be moved by a fin. ger," and P'tolemy, A. D. 160, says "The Gygorian rock could be moved with a stalk of asphodel.', The Logan stones in Corn wall are well known. Astonishing yirtues have been at tributed to small stones which have a natural ho.. in them; these were determined "holy stones," and wore some times tied around the necks of cattle tC charm away adders. Egyptian T~emnpes. All the great temples of Egypt whlet have withstood the destructive tendences of time and the assaults of man for foui thousand years are of hewn stone. Bu the only wood in or about them Is' in the form of ties, holding the end of one ston4 to another on its upper surfaces. Whet two blocks were laid un place, then it ap pears that an excavation about an inel deep was made in each block, into whici an hour glass shaped tie was driven. It ii therefore very difficult to force any stops from its position. The ties appear to haye been the tamuaik, or ohittim wood, a sa cred tree in ancient Egypt, and now vera rarely Ibunid in the vsy gf the Nile Those dovoetal ties are J ft~'sonw5 nol as on the day of their iS9rtp BRIENRS. -It is thirty years since Queen V16 torir was last in Ireland, -London has'lately instituted Sun day music infier public pars. -Three million hogs have beenpack ed in Chicago'since March 1st. -Vermont with 804 mile's of rall W.i track, killed but dhe passenger in. 179. -During 1879 the valuation of tlge state of Georgia has increased $14,000,. 000. -Durham, N. C., expects to handle 18,000,000 pounds-6t this years tobacdo crop. -There are 1,000 pupils in the mias. sionary Snnday schools of LucknoW. India. -The frat wagon-load of new pecans sold in Dallag, Texas, for $1.75 per bushel. -There will be five colored members in the newly elected Tennessee Leg islature. -The Canada Pacific Railroad is finished Vu a point 165 .miles west of Thunder Bay. -A factory at Brookville, Jefferson county, Pa., turns out 600 buckets and 800 tubs per day. -The population of the worla, ao oording to Dr. Behi and P'rof. Wag ner, is 1,455,923,500. -The first snow In England came unusually early thi year-during the third week in OGtober. -Mine. Adelina Patti is receiving, it Is said, $2250 a night during her en gagement In Germany. -Justices Clifford and Hunt, of the United States Supreme Court, are in Washington in ill health. -W. W. Corcoran, the aged banker of Washington, has, it is stated, giveh away more than $3,000,000. . -Over 2,000,000 baskets of pbaehes were shipped over the Delaware Rail .road during the past season. -Th hop crop of Mendocino county, Cal., this season is very large, and will average 1,80JO pounds per acre. -Mr, .McArthur, the new Lord Mayor ofLondon, is said be the first Irishman that filled the oillce. --The sale of the Penny Testament, the cheapest edition ever published, has already reached nearly 400,000. -For the first ten months of this year 117,000,:00 bushels of wheat was shipped from New York for Europe. -William Sharon appears on the ad sesment roll of San Francisco for $4, 470,000; James G. Fair, for $4,20D,000. The rice crop of Louisiana for 1880 is estimated at 250,000 -barrels. -Last year's crop amounted to 100,000 bar rels. . -The Bible has been trahelated into 226 different languages and dialects for purpose of foreign missionary -The fourth centennial of Raphael's birth, will be celebrated with great splendor in Urbino, Italy, his birth place. -Robert the Devil, the great horse of the English racing season, has won for his owners, in stakes and bets, $350,000 -Buddhism is on a rapid decline in Japan. Since 1873, in a single district, seventy-one temples have been diverted to secular uses. -Complete census returns from Texas show that the state has a popu lation at 1,505,483. The population in 1870 was unly 818,579. -The lumbe~r shipments Irom the Saginaw Valley during the season of 1880, thus far, have bep the largest ever made in Michigau. -Mr. Henry Clay, the grandjson 'of the statesman, who joined the Howv gate Expedition,intendcs to spend the0 winter at Rittenb'enk, Greenland, -The damage done to shippi neon the lakes on Oct. 16 amounted to s5,&00 - 000. Ninety-three people perished,and there were Eeventceen totals wrecks. --The Marquis of Dte intends to erect a monastery for Elnglish anonks on his property at Jerualem,and plans have been prepared for a build ing* to cost $20,000. -In 1Roumelia the rose H arvest is reported to have been an exceedIngly abundant one this 'yeai', the value of the total yield exceeding, it is estimat ed, 1,000,000) francs. --It is rumored that Count Wilhelm Bismarok, son of the German Chan cellor, is to be married w9ethe Countess Irma Andrassy, daughter, of the fa mous Austrian statesman. --There were exported from New York during the year ending: June 30 last 31,061,010 pounds oftbutter, v~iued at $5,189,071, and 19,833,830 pounds of oleomargarine, valuedt at $2,581,317. -The greatest feat in the way of rapid railway making is said to be that of8irlt.Tiemple in the lateAtfghan eami paign. One hundred and thirty miles oz railw ay was constructed in 101 days. -The Italian Minister of Agriculture and Commerce has dieided to present to A'arliament a project for executing a gret eolglalmap of the Kingdom . The epense iscalculated at 0,000,000) --The August earnings of the Central Pacific railroad were nearly $800),000 in excess of the same month last year. There has been a gain of over $1,250, (100 thus far this year as compared with the same time last year. -MI. Dronter has patented in Ger many a process for rendering bronzo as malleable as copper. A bout one per cent of mnercuryv is added to-the tin ina a warm state, and this is then. mixed with phe melted copper. -When a peni has bedoino o'brr.oded as to be usolea,it can l I gaa od~c as ne w by holiiing it in the neriof a gas jet for haif a uantti ajll drop it in coid water, take o'ut, WieO~ c Loan,and It will be ready for use again. -The house di relug9 on, tile tog of Mouint'St. Gothard, tounded Ib the fouteonth century, will b4 petmanae it. ly oiid twoycal's hence. T1,he opening of the tianoei will reat it uselcess as fiot oven* beggar4 Will theti cross 'the mountain onzoot.-. -From $100,000 to 42,000,000 worth of b~irs'i1e~c are y'earl htligte d into tChntd# sh~a comua~ from Ya cost