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I --~ - - - N BORO - . - - - - IRI-WEEk(LY EDITION~ WINNSBORO, S. C., APRIL 5, 1881. ESALSE IT NEVER COMES.AGAIN., 'I here are gains for all our losses, Tiere are bAin for all our pain, But when youth, the dream, depart., It takes something from our hearts, And it never oomes 'again. We are stronger, and are better, Under manhood's sterner reign ; - Still we fe el that something sweet Followed youth, with flying foot, And will nev er come again. Somethkag beautiful Is vanished, And we sigh for it in va na We behold it everywhere, On the earth and in the air, but it never comes again. Casta Diva. - "Heigh, ho," sighs Mr. Patron, "what a forlorn thing it is to live alone I and he drew his easy chair close to the fire and ensconcing himself toerein, wrapped his tr-colored dressing gown about him. "I wish I were narriedl I know a lady boards in the same house, ton--and I be lieve she'd have me, if I were to ask her. I mean the pretty music teacher. She is young, delicate and amiable; only there seems to be something meilancliholy about her, as though she had. known sorrow: be sides she le a widow. I like her enough, and I beoeve she likes pe. I'll think this over. I have plenty of money and nobody to spend it upon. Yes, I think I will ask pretty Madame Victor to marry me." Rap, rap, rap I "Come in-who's there?" ''Clean clothes I and pray who are you, my little cherub, and where do you come fron I I "I am Lauretia, air; and I live with Bridget, who washes your clothes, and she sent me with the basket to-nght." "Yes, I shoula think she had, you little duckling; and the basket is bigger tan yourself I Comie and sit (Iowa in this cha.r by the fire and warm your toes-there now, 1 want to talk with you. Are you Bridget's childt" "Oh, no, sir;" and a look of care passed over the little face. "No, I thought not. Washerwomen's children don't have such eyes, nor such broad foreheads, nor such soft hair. Well, birdie, how came you with Bridget? 11ave you no parents?" "I don't know. I only dream I have, Bridget lets me stay with har because I can sing. Oh, sir, I sing iny. songs in great houses, and they give n6 six-pences and I cany them all to lridiret." "Aia I you pay your board, then ? Well, little Lauretta, will you sIng for me now?" "Yes, indeed ;" and the little one stands up In the middle of the rug, and, opening her resebud mouth, she sang Oasta Diva. "Bless my stars. what a voice ! I know ameth4ng of music inyreif ; at least enough to know that such a voic sLould be a for tune to the one who posbesses it. Where did you learn that 1 " "Xurse? Who is nurse?" "Nurse'is dead." The dark eyes illed with tears una the rubyr lips are quiver ing. Mr. Patron walks up ard down the room. His curiosity is excited as well as his pity. "Please, sir, shall I have my basket? Bridget will scold, if I stay so long." "No, little one, I will carry the basket; I am going home with yohl" "It's up five flights of stairs, sir, and there is no light In Lhe passage-way." "All tile more ieason I should go with you. Now I am ready. Come, my little singer, you and 1 will be better acquainted before long. Don't fall down'these stone steps; keep hold of my hand ; here we are In? Broadway. Now where do we turn. Down Prince street, hey F and now down Crosby. W hat I do you live in this alley? Oh, unever fear, little Casta Diva, I 81hal1 tread safely enoftgh, while this little hand leadis me. Ugh I how .miany nmore flights are there? only twoi Well, well, I can cimnb thenm if you can. So is this the door?" "Och, and is it you. 4ir, that would be afther connng to see a poor wvoian at this houri Will 30ou be seated sir? said Bridj et, wiping a wood(en chair with her apr'oi. "Your shirts were not ironed to be suiting ye, may be?" "Shirts all right, Bridget. I came to bring home your little gui, and1( to ask you something about lher. She has been sing ing to ine. Will you tell nmo wvheke shle camie fromi ?" "Ye take a deal o' trouble f~r a lone bit, of a chiad, indeed, sir; but her story is not so very long. She lived with a furrin Tvomian in the room below, named TIher'esa, The wvomun said she was waiting mid In Lauretta's fannly, iu Italy, somlewhlere,an.d while she was out with the child, thlen two year's oldI, for' the sake af the air, there' caime a big row in the city, ad theo.chiki's father wa in the middle of it, and got kilt; and whlen she reached the house, all in a fright,sure it, was aill on fire,and the miother of it gone, andi niver was she able to ll her at, aill. So she kept the child and came to America with it,: ior she heard tell how the streets were paved with gold; and when she came and found nary gold, nor food bat, for the working, she had to go to work as aill we poor crathiers do, anti she took In washing in the 01ne room dlowni stairs; but never a bit wouldi size lot this child do for herself, but wained on It like a slave, andu only taughat It to sing as its miotheor did before it, she said; and Iast year Th'leresa died. 'iThis poor little crather ' Mok hen mneself, onily ll be bintging her 'Terenitly enatirely; i'll tachie lien to "e'id at azy rate; and so I sends v"day to sing to the great frolks, htellp to carry round the -11, sirn" id in you Bridget, to oui have savedi her '" be rewardedi, and dropped 'iva, as Mr.' '11er, bid bear heri -demani 'ness me yet seated In his easy chair before his bright coal fire, with his dressing gown once more folded around him. The only difference is that he smiles Instead of sighing as he did before. "Ah, yes," he says, "I see my way.clear 1 ean now without hesitation call on Madame Victor In her 1oom, to interest her about my little Casta Diva. I will tell her the story'ilud eighgb hOr to cultivate the voice of my little profege. I will see her to morrow morning, and perhaps she will ac - cPipqnY, me to Bridget's lodging. Not a very inviting walk to invite the lady of iny hea-t to share, but thqn the circumstances are peculiar." "Now I think of it I must engage of my landlady the little bed-room next mine. I am determined to adopt that singing che rub for my own. I will change her name to Casta Diva Patron. It sounds musical, and she Is music Itself. If sweet l'ne Victor only sees in her.what I do, we shall be an exceedingly happy family. I declare I feel like a husband and father already. I shall find enough to do with ny money, after all. And so lie goes to bed and dreams of his future Joys till lie fairly laughs aloud in his sleep. Now it is morning; and if you will put your head out of your door you can see him going along the hall. le stops at No 6 knocks gently; but the rich toned piano, touched by a thrilling hind, does not allow so lovelike a tap to be heard. This time he knocks louder; the music stops, and the door is opened by a beautiful woman, who invites him to enter. Well, I don't won (er lie fell in love with her I Let you and I go peep in atthe keyhole and hear what they say; I'll never tell-will you? Hark? Well, after all, I can't tell what they said, because I promised 1 wouldn't; but Mr. Patron has staid in there a great whileand lie didn't ask her to play once. Now the door opeus again and they come out together; .he in hisoveicoat and hat,she in her cloak and bonnet. 116 looks very muck excited, and she looks pale and trembles so she can scarcely speak. She takes his offered arm and goes down stairs and out tne street door. I do believe they are going t6 Bridget'a And so they were. Good Mr. Patron walks slowly with the ladj, for she las every reason to tremlle; she believes she is Lauretta's mother; for she hns been telling her friend how her husband was killed in a mob one dreadful day because he as a great politician, and when they burned his house they took hou and threw her into prison, where she re mained a whole year, and only made her escape when, during terrible troubles in Italy, the prison doors were unbarred to all. Bho had sought frantically for her child, but in vain; believing .that both I'auretta and her nurse were crushed in the same mob that killed her husband, she came to America to try to learn a livelihood among hospitable strangei-n by her fine musical education and uncommon voice. M'me Victor believes that Lauretta is her strangely alike. Five years have passed ince she left Italy but she knows her eyes will not deceive her. I1er baby's features are indelibly engraved upon her heart. Her kind friend supports her up the five hights of stairs, and then lic stops to take a breath and nerve herself for either intense happiness or heavy disappointment. They are about to enter the room when a little voice greets her ear singing, with a wonderful power and expression,an Italian melody which the lady herself used to sing in hur own sunnf land. She stops and grasps the a rm of her friend. "Oh wait," she whispers, '-let me try.' and with a great effort, she continues and completes the unfinished strain in a voice that angel's might not exceed. He opens the door. Lauritta stands in the centerof the room, alone, pale and agitated; her great eyes di lated wihth emotion long irepressed. 11cr mother':i volue has reached a spot in her little hoar-t which vibrates on her memory like a glimpse of heaven. Em~e Victor sinks upon a chair and mrazes .onag andl earnestly upon the little motion less fIgure ; then lie stretches out her arm-ns and whispers. '-Come here." Lauretta slowly advances, and when she Is close to the beautilui lady, she nestles her head upon her bosom and draws a long deep sigh. "Troll 'no your whole name, sweet one." 'Laurett .a Victor." The lady preasv the little form still closer. "Darling, I 'am your mother." "I kcnow it," sighs the child. "You knaow it, mny angel 9 " "Yes;' I have seen you in my dreamsa, and always called you motheri-; and wvheni you sting just now it brought It all back." Ghood Mr. Patron went to the window and wiped~ his (ayes. Once agamn we see film sitting in his easy chair before the bright coal fire. By his side sits a beautiful lady; one hand lies in his, and the other is tendcerly stroking his hair; btut her eyes arc resting upon a little fairy who sits at the piano, silently dream ing over some of llandlel's music which her "papa" has brought home to her. The little fairy is "Caita Diva." 'rhe Ujoma in IRussian flouseholdsR. A lucrative branch of thie Moscow un dertakers' busines's is the repahi- and~ hire ot cofins. The dealings in these necessary articles are for the most liart, in other .au ropean cap~itals, coninledl to one permnennt, and final transaction. Butt it would aippear that many of the wealthy Mtiscoyltes pur chase then coffins (luring their lfetime, and keel) them at home, whore they are used by careful housewives as rcposltoies for groceries and othecr edlible stores. The Rlusalan rat, however, has a sweet tooth. with which lie indutstriousty gnaws lis way into'-these grim receptacles of sugar, raisins and spIces, dloIng such dlamage to thenm In the course of Jii forays that they are con stantly In needl of repair. 'ihe "hiring de partment" of the establishments above al hiudedl to is chiefly supported by wIdows of merchants and tradlesmen, who house the mortal remains of their "(lear departed" in cheap deal cofins, lbut lure for -the funeral ceremony maugificent "caskets," richly dlecorated with' velvet and gilding, in w hach the plain wooden b~oxes actually destined foa' intei-ment are inclosed. At the church raid gate the~ aecommodating undertaker 4tes back his splendid shell, which has 'led its puspose by conferring distinc pen the rohlut of its temporary occut iuring Its transport through the pub. 'q, apd-the deceased i. consigned a inonnlval. Navigating the Air, It is hardly necessary to say that the in troduction of a locomotive machine which would transport a large number of people through the air in any direction toquired, at tbe rate of thirty miles an hour, would be a startling novelty In our travellbig ar rangements. Let us glance at the advan tages it would offer. Comparing it fist with aquatic locomotion, it would be far quicker than any boat hitherto made, vast. ly less expensive in first outlay and cost (f working, would require no harbors, would produce no sea sicknecse and would Oecape the greatest dangers inherent in water nav igation. Viewing it, secondly, as a means of land transport, it would be quicker than common road travelling, and would con paroefairly with the ordinary speed on rail. ways, while It would entirely dispense with the enormous and edstly provisions requisite for both these modes of getting over the ground, and -be free fron the multitude of liabilities to accident attend ing them. But it may uiaturally be object ed that such a mode of locomotion would have peculiar dangers of Its own. No doubt balloons have hitherto been very sub ject to accidents, and the bare idea of any thing going wrong at a height of thousands of feet above the earth has in it something very appalling. But much of this impres sion will vanish before coin'non-sense reo soning. It must always be borne in mind that, fpr the purposes of locomotion, there would be no reason for ascending high into the air; it would only' be necessary to keep a suficient altitude to clear terrestrial it pedients. and this would not only do away with milch of the terror of the idea, but would greatly lincrease the probability of a safe escape from accidents of what ever kind. Let us see in what direction danger might, in extreme cases, lie. The loss of gas by ruptfire of the envelope or otherwise is a remote possibility ; but the experience of many actual cases has prov ed that the resistance of the air to the large surface exposed has sufficed to prevent, any rapid fall; special measures might be easi ly provided, and at low elevations over land no serious catastrophe need be feared on this ground. In crossing over water, precautions would sill be possible and the case would not be so hopeless as in many marine casualties. The danger of fire, if properiy guarded against,need not be great er than in a ship at sea. Indeca, if we be lieve M. Giffard, who has tried the 6xperi ment, the idea of such danger is quite an illusion. The accidents that arise to ordinary balloons almost always occurin the descent, which, if the wind is high re quires great care and skillful management. In this case the propelling power would be inost'especially useful; the aeronaut could ghoose his plac'e of landing with precision, and, by turning his head to the wind, lie could avoid the dragging. which is so dan gerous, and which has so often brought a fatal termination to balloon voyages. The worst conjecture conceivable would be a break down of the propelling machinery at a time when It was wanted to aid the do relik dowubuidbd nihde i'ry siigat; by ordinary mecliailoal precautions. On the whole there can be no good reason to be lieve that the dangers would be more for midable with this than with other kinds of locomotion, and when we remember the frightful casualties that so frequcntly now occur in land, river and sea traffic, and consider how many of these causes would be absent in the free paths of the air, we may probably even venture to assert that balloons would be the safest as well as the pleasantnest mode of traveling. As a set off against all this, however, there is one great objection to aerial locomotion, naue ly, the uncertainty it must always be liable to in consequence of the effect of the wind. We must not ignore this; on the contrary, we will endeavor to estimate its exact value. We will assume that we can steam through the air im any direction at the rate of thirty miles an hour ; but this will only count for useful locomotion in a dead calm; if there is any wind, by carrying'the bal loon aloing with it will clearly influence both the effective durection andl the elice tive speedl. The israss Hand Oratitou. Bob Toombs, as lie is familiarly called, hadl been1 attending college in Georgia two years, andl was within a week oaf graduat ing, when in a difliculty, ho stabbed one of the students, Iilicting a serious but not fatal wound. For thuis act lie was ex pelled by the facult~y, who soon after were p~etitionled by the graduating class to allow him to finish with them, as lie had so nearly compiletedi his course, and hiad iilso been given a speaker's place. T1oombs himself petitioned them, but, both were ref used. ie apparently submitted, but on commencement day, when the chapel was crowdled with visitors, and~ the seniors vehemently orating p)reparatory to reeiy ig their diplomas, he stationed a brass band undelr the spreadiing limbs of the oak, whose music succeeded in bringing scores of town people, who were not then in the chiapel, and also of clearing it of nearly all its audiience. Thlen, in as cool a manner as p~ossible, lie phuacedi liimsdf in a chair and made an oration, such, it is said, as was neover spoken by a student here, before or since. lie never received his diploma, though atfter his cehlbratedi Boston speech it was scat to himt, but wias returned with the answer, "llang the dhpA~nma; when it would have been an lhon i sto mec I was re fused it ; now, when I am an honor to it, it is oifered mec." lie was afterwards-re conciled wvith the faculty, and is now one of the statunchiest stupporters of the college. 1(a:at~ys manel Population A table constructed by Professor Stur mner of Brombery shows the length of rail way in several of the dcit counies of the wvorld and its proportion to the population. 'In E~urope, on thie average, there are 4.6 ,kilogietre~s of railway to every 10,000 ini habitants. Greece has the least proportion to the population, having only 0.08 kilo metre to every 10,000- of thie p~opulation, Next conmes T1urkey wIth 1.6, Portugal 2 3 ilouumania 2.4, iluissia -2.8, Italy 2.9, and so upward in the scale, France having 0. 3, Germany 7.1, Great BritaIn 8.1, and Swe den headiing the h'at with 10 8, though its total mileage us not one-fifth of that of Great Britain, In Asia It 'appears that only 0.16 kilometre Is averagedl to every 10,000 inhabitants; and hi1 Africa the pro portion is only 0.17. In the Unitecd States the proportion is 82.9 to every 10,000 of tile people; while the whole of Amneric$ has the average of 17.9 and iin Australia the proportion ia 10.0. An Act or True Uevouon. Fred Olds, now confined in the Kansas state Penitentiary, makes a rediarkable statement concerning the umurder at Topeka, of one D. W. Farris, in March, 1874, which, it will be remembered, created such a sensation at the time. Olds, a boy then of 10, confessed to the murder at the trial of the case, and Is now undergoing the sen tence for the crime. But if his statement Is to be believed lie is innocent of the crhue. The boy's statement is a story of a son's devotion and a father's cowardice. lie states that on the day of the murder his father sent him home after his loaded gun, which lie got and placed in the murdered man's store about noon. . Later in the af ternoon he met his father, who told him that Fairis had gone off on a trilp, and wanted him (fred) to run the store during his absence. , Th father then gave the son the key of the establishment, and instructed him to ppen the store bright and early the next inorning. le also gave the boy $25, and told him to go off and play billiards the rest of the afternoon, and to the opera in the evening. The youth then went on a regular spreo, and was with a crowd of friends all night and until breakfast tune, when lie went home, and afterward went to the store and opened up for the day. Shortly afterward the father came in and told the boy that he had to use the horse afnd "do a job," and wanted the boy to assist hunt. The "job ia supposed to be a plan of the old man to get ri of the body. About that time the officers apl)eared in the estabiishment and arrested the pair. They had been put on the-track by a friend of Farris, who doubted that the merchant would go out of town so suddenly without telling him. A search of the collar was 111 and a mana's leg was found. The father and son were then escorted to jail to answer to the charge of murder. On the way the father cautioned the non to say nothing. 'The boy says lie became con vinced at once that his father had comnnt ted the murder, but at the Coroner's n qucst he shielded his father and convicted himself. Olds, senior, then got out on ball, and thd boy remained in jail live months. During his conllnoment, the father visited tWe son frequently. On'one of these visita the boy was told that there was a bag con taining a pair of boots on top of a cupboard in the jailer's oice, and he wanted them secured and burned. Ticre were two doors between the prison and the olice, but to the surprise of the boy the jailer strangely left these two doors unlocked, and the bag was very easily gotten, and in the presence of other prisoners burned in the stove. Two of these witnesses are now in the pen itentiary. These boots, it seems, -were the father's, and bore marks that pointed to his gult. After that the fat her made his son another visit, and the boy was per suaded to sacritico himself to save his father, upon the promise that a pardon would be procured in a few years on the ground of the youth of the nrisoner. Af terward the mother vitiltd to her that ie had killed Farris in a quarrel. Whoa the case came up for trial young Olds pleaded guilty to the charge and wholly iOnerated his father from all complicity in the bloody deed. After the prisoner had been In the peni tentiary a year, ins father and mother went to Micidgan and from there to California. After live years Airs. Olds came back and endeavored to procure a pardon for her boy, but failed. This intelligence was conveyed by letter to the father, and in a month after lie killed himself.- The know ledge of the suicide, however, did not reach the boy until some time last summer. Uuloaditngc Animais. "Unloading your nenagerie, Mr. Fore paugh ?" said a reporter, approaching him recently, at a wharf in New York. "ies; but the biggest are yet to come. Mr. Cox is dowvn in the cellar there (point lug to the steamship) getting them out ; go right down andl see them." The scene in the hold of the vessel was lively and amusing. A crowd of German stevedors was apparently tryinag to hoist to the open air portioans of the framework of the steamer; but their real object was to get the bigr boxes up the narrow hatchway. i'Te lions and leopards resented the affront to their dignity in being shaken and jarred, and~ filled the air with their angry protests. Ileavy ropes andl tackle were fastened to the boxes, and they were heisted to the (leek and swung to the pier, wvhere a nunm ber of curious spectators hasd gathered. "Now for the dromedaries I" sid~ Mr. Cox, the agent, as the last of the closed boxes p~assed out of sight. Nearest the hatchway stood a large,' ungainly white dromedary, whmose hump raked tihe beams. An attendant seizedl the halter and cried, ''ComeI"'I'lThe brute wvas finally br.ought to the hathway,bumt he declined to mount, the low laltformf beneath it. After many at temapts lie was made to knecl and creep for ward in this p~osttion, thus clearing the ob. stuctio'ns overhead. As lie rose 'to his feet a canvas sling was quickly passed tin der his belly aind securedl the tackle. As he rose to the opent air the animal presented a most ludicrous ap~pearanice, hIs long legs hanging, his body arched, his head and curved neck swaying from aide to side. This one was comiparatively quiet, but another big fellow kicked vigorously as lie cleared the deck, scattering the steve~loros right and left, and 'fr~ghteninag several women who were crossing the gang plank. One stubborn brute deliberately sat dhown, and had to 1)e rolledl over before the sling could be passed uinder him. . Another ene's legs had1( to be tied. All of thq ten utteredl un eairthily cries, more or less angry. T1he two ''baby" elephmapts went up in their boxes quietly, but ilmch diplomacy was necessary with "Citrley," who had attained his nmajority. 110 made a tour of the compartment, scattering thme workmen, before lhe was cajoled with iump sugar to enter lii box. "iBetsey,t' his mate, was '1es3 troublesome. On thtepier an exciting scone occurred. The roaring of the lIons, the t .umpettng of the elc hants and the cues5 of the camels caus 1 the spIrited horses to paw the planmks ntmd kick. The two large elephants wlmch were tied to gether and secured to the 4il of a truck were constantly growing more restive, and suddlenly sunapped the ~out rope, and started for the steamer at a quick trot, smashing windows in the ustom inspect or's otilce, and dispersing te crow'd before thien1. The keepers turned jal, but did not -flmnch. The huge -bruit e, driven away Iltom the stesamet, rushed bor a -huge side opoiinaR of the freight house. The specta tors expected .(t see the go into the trainer, pursued them, struck his sharp goad into the huge ear of the neareast one, and with blows and shouts turned the dan gerous yoke-mates aside, and they were then secured. The cavalcade subsequently moved to he Pennsylvania railroad station, where the animales were shipped to Philadelphia. "I'll never bring over such big elephants again," said Mr. Cox; "I won't take one over six feet in height. Week after next I'm going back to Berlin for eight trained horses,and I have another elephant coming on the Oder." Theo "Mlogardus Surpriub.-' This is a very simple piece of machinery. It can be attached to any sort of sleigh or cutter in three minutes, without the aid of any tool except a % rench. It Is neat and compact, able to stand a very heavy strain, and is furnished at a very reasonable price. The objcct and workings of the invention were clearly seen within i ye minutes af ter the party was on the ground. One was attached to a cutter, the horse started off on a trot,and several children belonging to the Clay school at once rushed for the vehicle with the cry: "Here's a hitch l" A boy about twelve years old had only Just caught on when the "Surprise"picked him off his roost., turned himi end for end, shook him till his teeth rattled, and heaved him clear over the walk into a snow-bank. It was jnst three minutes from the time the boy was picked up until lie got breath suilicient to remark: "Oh ! you think you've done it, don't you?" The next victim was a boy with a quart of molassea in a tin pail. The machine given an extra pressure. as the boy was was strong and fat, and lie -was turned end for end three tines and pitched over the port-quarter in just seven seconds by the mayoti's watch. The pail .of atolasses struck a hitching-post and was scatteredt a distance of eighteen p)aces,as paced by oneI of the clergymen. In two minutes fron the time lie was seized, the fat boy rose to his feet with the remark: "I guess I'd better walk the rest of the way hoie l" In the course of an hour the "Surprise" was worked on fifteen different boys, none of whom will ever "hitch on" again as loig as lie lives. Total surprise and utter an nihilation were complete in every instance, and yet no victim received a fatal injury. Orders for filly were given the inventor on the spot. The mayor said of it: "It is simply immense. I shall now drive from sunrise to sunset." One of the savants passed his cigar-case around and remarked: "It will be more valuable to the world at large than a hundred-thousand dollar telescope. ' One of the eminent divines gave an order for two, and added: "It's effect on the moral status 'of the next gencaation cannot be appreciated In n it is promatie t'lat at iean, iu of these machines will be at work on the principal streets before the week Is out, and if your bny conies home limp [and reserved and humble minded, you needn't believe that a delivery sleigh ran over him unless you want to. Eblat Funeral. Any one walking through the streets of London lately can hardly tail to have been struck with the number of people of both sexes who have adopted the military style of mourniug, and wear a band of black cloth round the arm, just above the elbow, in place of the conventional black broad cloth hatband for men and heavy swathings of crape for women. Probably no counLry in the world is more wedded to old-fash toned observances than this, and I have been surprised, therefore, to see how rap~id ly the newv fashion has found favor; which is, undioubtedlly, largely owing to the ef forts of the Church of England F'uneral and Mourning Association to restrain the extravagance so frequently dlisplayed b~y p~oor peLople im their method of burying and mournmng for their deceaised filende. it is a singular fact that the lower classes In this country consider it a for greater disgrace to be0 buried by the parish after they are dead thani to be supp~ortedl by it while they ate living ; and the way In wvhich poor people1 will strip themselves of everything, anmd run in dlebt to boot, in order to "cut a show" at, the funerals of relations, Is almost incredible. An Illustration of this caine iindei imy notice recently. A man in hum ble circumistances diied, heaving a wiilow and several children. TIhe relict, in ordei to honor thle memory of her late husband, gav, e him a funeral described by a paroch ial relieving ofllcer as "'li, for a Duke." Th'lere was a htearsme drawnm by four coal black steeds, three pair-horse, mourning coaches, black velvet pail , noddinmg plutmes, etc., etc. All the emplj~oyes of the under.. hiker wore black kia gloves and scarves, for which the widow p~ahd. i'hoe dead muau's income when lie wits alive was per iiapls $10 iper week-certainly not, inore. Th'Le expenses of his funeral amounted to over $l50. Of course all the family went inte mourming too, and almost equally 'of course., went ito the work- house a week or two later. Why U,o Pralraos aire Tfruniong A curIous and interesting explanation or the absecec of trees on the great Western .p~rairies was given at the meetting of the Academy of Natural Sciences by Tihos, Meehatn. Numberless theories have been advanced by students in natural history why the great feeding grounds of the buf falo should be without, arborescent vegeta tin, the pi incip~al one whIch Is supported by distinguished authors being that, of ci innutic intluetices. Mr. Mechan's theoory Is tbat, the absence of trees is due to artificial catisca altogether. Taught by their neces sities the early Indians mnade It a practice to anuially lire the high grass of the prairies, which had the elfect of making time growth more luxturianit and consequent ly miore inviting to the vast herds of bufifa ho, On which the aborigines depended greatly for their sustenance. Ii, has ben conclusively settled that no vegetatioc, save the hardy prairie grass, will appear on ground over which lIre has swept until aniothter acason, so that the yearly prIairie fires extended the area of the plateau until they had become almost iasulroloss. Mr. Meehan cited soveral instances where trees had grown wheni the fire had been dis contmutd, The hbypot~hosls was both pleasing an#l . plausible, andi has e3xcitedt Bome. dicus.,ion amngr the savants. 'i ho Stoty of a Wolf-Trap. At a recent pioneer meeting in Varsar ilchigan, Mr. Hart exhibited a steel-tral with this history: "'The trap was made b' I brother of Mr. Hart, while residing It ,he state of Now York, some 45 years ago md Is considered a fline piece of workman ihlp, and made of the best steel. It wa given by the maker to his brother, L L1art, when, soon after, he removed t< iHichigan, thinklag it might be of servic4 in the wilds of the west. Mr. Hart locatet )n a farm in the township of Tuscala, where lhe now resides, over 40 years ago, rho country was then a wilderness, ant infested with wolves. Mr. Hart caught ir tis trap the first wolf caught in Tuscoh :ounty, and several afterward about th< mine time. 1le again set the trap in th( woods not far from his house, on the spot where now.stands the residence of E. W. White. It was fastened to a heavy clop A wood, but it disappeared suddenly auc nothing more was heard or known of 11 antil about forty years atterward, when ii was discovered by a man chopping in tht forest near Mount Morris, Glenesee county, ;one 13 miles distant, suspended in the ,rotch of a tree 36 feet from the ground. When the tree was felled the trap was di. xovered, released from its long captivity, mad borne lionme in triumjiph by the sturdy ixeman as a lawful prize. When found the chain attached, and which was wound tround the tree, was concealed from sight, >wing coml!etely grown over and imbed. led in the glowing wood and bark. Thc rap hanging on one side of the crotch, otd the ring at the other end of the chain langling on the other side, were all that vere exposed to view. Speculanons as tc he manner in which it carke there may iave ample scope ; but the most natural ,heory seenis to be that soie powerful an mial must have carried the tral) and clog ip the tree to the crotch, passed arounu he tree and through the crotoi again, thus vinding the chain completely around the )ody of the tree, and shortening it so as tc )o unable to extricate itself from its peril. >us situation, and there hung until it died >f starvation, and its flesh and bones de. :ayed and dropped from their imprison nent, uii were devoured by ravenous beaste >r bird When dilEcovered, some nmositb6 tgo, no tii ccs of its victim remained, savc onto little bits of hair between the jaws of We trap. Tli astonished discoverer cut >fI a section of the tree, containing the .rotch and Imprisoned trap, and took it iome for exhibition, but its history was in rolved in mystery. At length it caie tt he knowledge of Mr. Liart, who recog iized it as his trap, which lie had set iieai uis house 40 years before; and his brotlie who had also come to Michigau, know it t )o the identical trap that he made in NoN eork state, as already stated, and gave tc iis brother. The section of the tree con aining I lie trap shows it to be beech, ant ,he main trunk is about live Inches in di. imeter, while the branch is soei two in. :hes across. A hole is cut in the body )r inore beneath the outer bark. So IHungry. "Recently," said Policeman Doyle, o .ew York, "I was walking in Broadway icar B->nd strect. It was about sundown tly attention was attracted by a crowd o ionic 400 people around the entrance < lie straw hat factory of Bill and Ray a 4. Everybody was yelling up at thi iocond story of the building. I looked up Lad there I saw a young woman standinj >n the cornice outside the second-storj window. "'Illullol' says I. "'I'm awful hungry.' says she. "Then she said that she and four otho; .irls were locked in. A man of man vords who stood directly behind me kep houting : 'I hear It's a tire. If so be as Il 5, pitt it out I' "Thlen the young woman shouted down: 'We are all locked in, and we can't get out; mid whatever shall we do? When the) :losed up the building they lockcd lve o. is In, and we're so veiy hungry.' "'If so be as they're hun.ry,' says th< nan behind me, 'give 'cim food.' '"The girl In the window went on:'h Iaitor went home with the key about, )'clock. "ie cried "All out I" and theri ocked the dooer ann wvent home. We wer< 10t out, and we're very huingry.' " 'If so be its they can't get out, tays the man behind tiy ear, 'call oun he Fire Department and get a hook and "'I learned front the girls that one o: lie proprietora of the place, Thoiumnas L. Blall, lived at 117 East 1 28th. I liinedi, itchy ran to the station and told the der. lcant. lIe telegraphed to Mr. Ball, andr attle lates he conmes (downi to the scene. "'Oh, AMr. i3.dl, please let us out, cause we're s') very hungry,' saidl th< fonnmg hadies. "Mtr. Dlall said It hiadni't any key, and ic (ldin't know where the janitor liVedl. A imall boy ap~peatred who said lie knew thn lanitor, aind woul fetch him, which lie did, mad the gIrls were let out,. Wheni they went awvay the man behind my car says he to them, '.Now, if so be0 as your hungry, why, go and eat.' " TIhomnas L. B il was four~d at 0 o'clocla in tho afteirnoo'n at his place of busi, sest, and lie corroborated the policeman ' itory. Whilo e wa is speakiny, live gIrli shipped out of thte door andI ran downi th< itairs. The reporter followed tnemn. Thle) were all staimhing together, talking anc 'mughing, on the sidewalk. ''AreC you the unlortunate--" "'Oh, please don't speak to us I" saId th<n >Idest one. "WVhy not ?" "'Cause wve don't want to lie prInted, md we're very, very hungry." 1'mbiic kibrary or e ar Is. The Public Library of Paris contans ~,000, 000 volumes, and adds 50,000 a yeiti o Its store. Thlere are 54.000 books of pecial dIstimction, of which 6,000 behong o thec fifteenth century, and 20,000 arn a clf 'uorc of Illustrious prninters. Soint re wondlerful specCfiens of the blider' rt, othefs belonged to famous historical >ersonages; among thtem are two of luttonberg's Bibles, printeni before 1457, whose vailuo may be Inferred from the faci hat an Inferlor copy has juist been sok ut London for $10,000. TIhere are 90,00( nanoscripts, 5.000 of whIch are liluatrateu wIth mInIatures; If these were for sal nany of them wvould be valued at $10,00( vid over, There are more than a millIom wtographs, 2,200,000 engravings anm 100,000 medals, many of them most costly ...40nW wnmlhamis fo , 000nn FOOD FOR THOUGHT. The trunst end of life is to know the life that never ends. Love, faith, patience,- the three es sentials to a happy life. All philosophy lies in two words, "sastain and abstain. Low as the grave is, only faith can climb high enough to see beyond it. Great souls hold firmly to hesyen and let the earth roll on beneath them. It is right to be contented with what ye have, but never with what we are. Nothing IQ further froqn the earth than heaven; nothing Lia nearer thtan heaven to eal th. The grca problem of life is for each wau'to do his,8hare of the wordi's work and kep well. lie who has created us with a thirst after the knowledge of linm will cer Lainly satisfy the thirst. Notiig is m:Pre fatalto self advatkoe. nent than a stupid conservatisma, or servile luitatlon, When a man Is conscious that he does no good hiimsel, ti next Lntng Is to cause others to do sone. The talent of success Is nothing more than doing What you can do woli,wltU out a thought of fame. Uod iULtLons are the seed of goad actions, tiougli they do not always Produco LUui1. lie wil ilrd himself t a great mls Lake that eitler seeks for a iriend in a palace or tries himn at a toast. You will gain a good reputation if you avoid tUose accions whien you can consure and blame in others. If you have talents, industry will strengthein thee M; it uoderace abilities industry will suIply &le deliUlenoy. Flattery Is often a tralia of mutual meanness, w here althougu boh par&tes intend decptUoni, neiti0r is deoivyd. 11 you would be miderable, look within. It you would be distraced, oox around. I you woUnd ba happy, luuoL Up. Moen must know that in this theatre of manas life It remainthtl. only to U -d and te angels to 0e luolcers-oli. Ignorance is a blank sheet on which we must write; error, a scriboled oU from whicli wo must erase. While ciroumstances may make og mar a man, it Is equally true tuata j m ty of en make lia caroutustances. Never attempt to convey the impres atom that you are a genius, by iuiaG ing the faults of distuingulied IeIn. Somec philosophers, in seeking for truth, to pay homage to her, have soen tuir own image and adored I in stead. A pohtician weakly and amiably right is no maLh 1or a polatitlan tena0ously and pugnaciously wrong. Care should be taken not that the ,,11,4r understaud, whecasr hie will or note Man will bear every oalamity with misfortune when he knows himself to be the author of his own misfor tune. Iy a man has transgressed one law, and speaks lies, and scoffs at another world, there Is no evIl ho will no-do. We do not believe immorality because we have proved it, but we forever try to prove it because we believe it. I know of but two beautiful things -the starry heaven above my head, 'nd the sense of duty within 'my heart. There are tines in the history of communitlos, as well as of individuals, when silence is sin, and submissiou a cr1ime. Tihere are a great many persons in \ the world who are well enough to go to a ball, but too sick to attend a prayer uueeting. If anger arise in the breast,instantly steal up) thy lIps, and let, it not go forth; ior. like lire, whien it wants vent, l. will suppress itself. A zealons soul without meekness is like a ship In a storm, in danger of wreck. A meek soul and without zeah is like a ship 1:n a calm, that moves not so hast ais it ought. Obstacles and perplexities every man must meet, and he must either promlp I ty conquer them, or they will conquer We are fond of those who have given us pleasure,not that wve have anyuaig to say, but because the subject la pleas ing. Itallgion is the .best armor in the world, but the worst cloaa. To lIve without a purpose Is to-lead a restless, unhlappy life. Itisa rugged highways that call out one's sirengti, not the -valleys of semi suouis ease. A 'aith in sympathy is the genius of the heoart-inore, the kernel of Uhrist's religion. Th'lere are inscrip ions on all human hearts which are niever to be seen, ex cept at low, dead tide. Friendship in some people0 is cruel. ty, like feeding a thirsty man with the beaded loami in the wine culp. The crowning fortune of a m an is to be born with a bias to some pursuit, Iwhch linids himi In enjoymensc and if there is anything more poignant, c han aL body agonizing for wiqof oiread, it is a soul watch isda 1o hunger for light Tnere is a gift that is almost a' blow, and there is a kind word that 1i n. deicne; so much is there in Lhe way we do things. A gentle person is like a river flow ing cainily along ; while the passion ate mani is like tile sea, casting up mire and dirt coniauail.y. Some p~eople never have a story to coil, because of their quicksand nature s (reom which every new wave washes Out, tihe old imp~ression.. Bieing sometimes asunder heightens (riendsniip. Tno greater cause of the frequenG quarrels among relatiyes Is their being so much toge:,ner. Thae force, the mass of character, I ilnd, hear t or soul, that a man cau Pu I ito any work, is tihe ist imgortant factor in that work. IHavingsa home that is all preaching enano pleasure--all duty and no fdn I i a dull old tread mill which wIll uivo the children away sooner or i ter.