Newspaper Page Text
" WINNSBORQ, 8. C.,-WEDNESDAY, JULY 15. 1885.
Hail. Sprinjr. thou gentle Spring!
| (! feci a. draft coining:through this floor.)
The birds their poults of welcome sin?;
(I told you once to shut that door I)
Ail nature hails thee with delijrht.
And seems to smile that thou art here:
The brightest things grow still more bright.
(Who'd think 'twould snow this time of
I bid thee welcome once a;mln.
When thee I greet I bless the day;
Cold winter row will not remain.
But in thy presence fade away;
The trees ali bloom on the hillside nigh,
The grass grows green on yonder knoll.
I (I wish you'd go down town oy-ana-uy
And order a ton of coaL)
|pt Come with the fragrance of new-mown bay:
BP: The bright green leaves we know you'll
And the birds will carol a roundelay
r To usher in th^ new-born Spring.
Bow pleasant to feel Spring's balmy breath.
And its many beauties to admire!
(Do you want me to sit here and freeze to
Why don't you go and shake down the fire?)
We know that thou wilt bring us joy;
Heliotrope and mignonette.
Hoses, and lilies?(confound that boy!
Has ht> not brought, that cough-sirup yet?)
Come with the bright and sparkling dews.
And the sunbeams that make the violets
(And bring me my ulster and overshoesIt
is freezing hard, and I'm going cut.)
UNDER A SPELL.
A brave, baritone voice was heard
among the roses, and the tall, handsome
girl, pulling clusters of purple
westeria from its vine, could not but
"IC? wen co "oc gallant and ffay,
'Tis well to be tender and true,
- lit you'd better bo off with the old love
r Before you are on with the new."
Maud Darrell curled her red lips with
\ heightened color, but did not turn
her beautiful head one inch, although
she knew John Maddern was waiting
for a glance, yet never once turned her
face towards the spot where the young
\ man leaned and watched her.
Was it mere caprice? John Maddern
knew that his sweetheart was a little
capricious; but beauties were always
spoiled, he argued, with a tender
To-day there was a lurking uneasiness
in his heart Maud's rich old uncle
and his adopted son had arrived the
day before. Did handsome Adrian Delafield
see how beautiful Maud was?
Her cousin, she called him. Cousin,
forsooth! That graceful, Spanish-looking
fellow, of seven-and-twenty, was
no kin to the aged, eccentric, misshapen
dwarf, who, rolling in riches,
had taken a whim to adopt him as his
One would think there would be a
ruffling of feathers at the intruder.sinee
Maud had always been considered Martin
Delafield's Heiress, but how the intruder
had disarmed all resentment
with his smooth tongue and charming
"Who was the good-lookingfellow?"
he had heard him ask Maud.
With an air of quiet indifference,
Maud had replied, without a tinge of
"Mr. Maddern is one of our old
<5ld neighbor indeed!
He had been wild about her ever since
the Darrells had come to the "Lilies."
There had only been stately Mrs. Darnm^ga^g&ithe
sweet, dying girl Ada, at
lie had never known what ailed Ada
jj^ Darrell, but she was fading,like a flower,
from day to day. Before the year
ended the young sister was called from
school to the funeral.
He had been commissioned by Mrs.
Darrell, with whom he was a favorite,
to meet her at the train.
What a flashing, impetuous, dazzling
young creature she was! They had
softened the blow for her. She did not
know that her lovelv sister, Ada, need *
. ; i.i ^ _ r i
ea. no anxious muugui vi uci juuug
heart; but her pitiful ignorance made
his heart ache "while he wondered at
When he saw her again the bright
impetuosity was'gone, "the young face
clouded with weeping, but the charm
the girl Had cast over him stayed. He
loved her. . .<
Adrian Dei afield did know that Maud
was beautiful, having good eyes and a
taste similar to most men's.
He surveyed the dark, lustrous eyes
ancT peachy cheeks quite at his leisure,
and it was he who put it into Martin
Delafield's head that Maud must go to
the Rhine with them in August.
Maud accepted the invitation with a
girl's love of novelty, and Mrs. Darrell
The trip was to be made as extensive
as possible, and Adrian Delafield was
the most delightful of companions,
knowing the legend of every ruined
caetle, the best hotels, and the loveliest
. * views; *
* <- * 1- T
. " >>aca days GienjoymenE, sucu nouis
of sweet surprises", Maud had never
She could not be insensible to the
gentle deference, the gallant protection
constantly offered her; and since 'the
trip gave Adrian Delafield, in the accidents
of travel, every advantage, the
chances grew fast in his favor.
The lover present hid the lover absent
from her view. And at eighteen,
perhaps, women are apt-to be inconstant
Step by step the man of the world
advanced, until he believed he needed
only her promise to make Maud his
They stopped one day at an old farm
house, with quaint, diamond-paned
VT JJUVA.U **
Her uncle and his adopted son had
gone to make sure that their beautiful
carriage horses would receive the best
Suddenly the wind-blown boughs of
the door-yard cherry-tree parted, and
let a shaft of sunshine upon the diamond
panes of the window, aDd Maud
saw writing there, and rose to read it.
Scratched by a diamond were the
names, "Adrian Airlie" and"AdaDarrell,"
and a date was added.
The room reeled around, but the evidence
was before her eyes. Her host
?a . garruious German?strolled into
the room' and observed her occupation.
"Wonder if the guadige Hcrr remembers
writing those names. 'Twas nigh
three years ago. I knew him again directly.
You are not like the other
fraulein. She was smaller and fairer,
though not any better-looking."
Two shadows had paused in the doorway,
as Maud turned.
Yon would not have known the girl,
she was so white and stern.
"Your name?was it Adrian Airlie?"
2*o aaswer; but there was guilt in
the man's face.
"Yes," said her uncle, "his name
was Airlie before he took mine."
Tor one little moment Maud looked
into the shallow, shrinking black eyes.
Then she turned away, disdainful as a
princess, and without another word,
left the room.
One evening John Maddern strolled
sadly into the garden of the Lilies. A
tall girl rose up from a rustic chair.
"John!" she cried, gladly.
Soon they were wajking arm-in-arm.
"I never told you, John, but my sis
tor Ada died rr a brofcen heart. Long
ago, when lcv mother was estranged
from her parents because she married
against their will, we lost father and
mother, and were left unprovided for.
"Ada was but sixteen. ?>he went into
a ricii family as governess, while I
was tossed from pillar to post by indifferent
friends?a troublesome little imp
' It was there that Ada met Adrian
Airlie. She was very pretty,then,when
in health. They were betrothed.
I Poor Ada! So lonely, so loving!
"He was only amusing himself. He
left her to break her heart.
' - -i- ? J l ? 1
j "i can unaerstanu now uiigm ae
! made life for her for a little while, and
j then left her?nothing. Ada would
j have lived to be happy, but for his selfishness
aud cruelty. When I mink
that I might have loved him, it seems
as if I should die of shame!
"Thank God, I found out before too
late! John, if I have given you any
paia, will vqu forgive me?"
And John Maddern knew that the
girl that he took into his arms was all
One of the best qualities of mountain
air, that which makes it so delightful
to the weary denizens of the plains, is
its freshness, and the higher they go
the fresher they find it Swiss savants
have ascertained, bvmanv observations
made at sundry Alpine stations, that
for every one hundred and forty-three
metres of altitude the summer temperature
of their mountains diminishes one
degree centigrade. The two great advantages
of a mountain climatc are the
freshness of the air and the intensity of
the sun's action. The second of these
influences as touching the human organism
is no less important thcin the
lirst, for the solar radiation penetrates
our clothing, comes in contact with the
skin, and acts on the blood. A few
weeks' stay at a height of three thousand
or four thousand feet above the
sea-level brings back color to the pallid
face and dyes the cheeks- a healthy
brown. But young women, sometimes
even young men, instead of exposing
their countenances to the healthful action
of the light, shade their faces with
hats and cover them with veils, as if
the complexion most to be desired is of
that deiicate and unwholesome tint
which comes of lute hours and indoor
life. Where can you liud handsomer
men than the ruddy-faced, dark-eyed
Urner Strass jimann, who, in the days
before the bis: tunnel, used to keep the
St. Gothard road free from snow, and
spent their lives at an elevation of from
live thousand to seven thousand feet
above the sea. Their complexions
were finer than that of any fashionable
! beauty who ever reigned in a ballroom
or shone at a court. Another peculiarity
of mountain air is the relatively little
moisture which it contains. As we
go higher the humidity diminishes in a
ratio more rapid than the pressure of
the atmosphere. When we reach an
c.ltit.vi<3A civ tVinncnnrl VmniJrer?
feet we have below us one-half of the
total amount of vapor our atmosphere
is estimated to contain. The hygro"metric
condition of the air at "these
heights is subject to rapid changes. A
-fog<- with- its cold and damp. xc-LLl often.
be dispersed in a few minutes by a whiff
of warm air. Local causes may, however,
render some mountains moister
than others. Tor instance, the monks
of the great St. Bernard do not complain
of the cold?that they can keep
away?yet they suffer so much from
rheumatism caused by the clouds that
roll almost constantly round the Hospice,
that after a few years' service
they are compelled to go down tc Tdartigny
to recruit their health. Bnt
Mont Jou, from its position, is much
exposed to the action of the south
wftid, which comes charged with mois
ture from the north Italian plains.
How Long We Should Sleep.
The latest authority on this vexed
question?Dr. Malins?says tbat the
t?t t\r\a-r rfmnnnt tr> hp liv
y'T1" - r ? T
a man is eight hours. So far as regards
city life, the estimate is probably correct.
Proverbial wisdom does not apply
to modern conditions of social existence.
" Five (hours) for a man, seven
for a woman, and nine for a pig," says'
one proverb; and a second, quoted by 1
Mr. "Hazlitt in his English Proverbs,
declares that nature requires five: custom
allows seven; laziness takes nine,
and wickedness eleven. These conclusions
were, however, drawn from observation
of country life. Physical
fatigue is more easily overcome" than
intellectual. Which o: us when traveling
over the country or abroad, or in
any way separated from the ordinaty
process of thought and anxiety, has
not found that he couid, without dilliculty,
do with a couple of hours' less
time than he was in the habit of taxing?
Men, however, who follow an intellect
uai pursuit are exceptionally xuriunate
if the process of restoration occupy less
than seven hours. More frequently
they extend to eight or nine hours.
Kant, I see it stared, took never less
than seven hours. Goethe owned to
requiring nine. Soldiers and sailors,
on the other hand, like laborers, do
with much less quantity. I am afraid
to say how much the duke of Wellington
regarded an essential. A schoolmaster
under whom afc one time I
studied, a hard-working man at the
acquisition of languages, proclaimed
loudly that he never took more than
five hours' sleep. The hour at which
he rose in the morning gave some color
to his assertion. Only in after life did
I discover that a two hours1 postprandial
siesta was not included in that allowance.?New
York Mail and Express.
The Tramp's Outlook.
Soon shall I lie upon the pleasant
sward, and feel the apple blossoms
blow down on me in sprays of pink and
white. I shall hear the birds making
love on the budding limbs and carrying
the straws from yonder meadow to
make their cosy nests. And at night I
shall crawl under the haystack and fall
asleep, looking at the twinkling stars
and hearing breezes rustle among the
vines and cattails.
A draught of nature is the best
draught out when you can't get any
other. How sweet, on a fresh, bracing
morning when Phoebus is gettingin her
biggest licks, to steal down the perfumed
meadow and purloin the milk from
the unsuspecting cow!
Therefore I shall hang my boots upon
my staff, and start for the country
just as soon as the winter passes aud
the poet begins to take headers down
the editorial stairway. How my heart
goes out to nature in all its varying
forms and conditions! I love an autumn
landscape, with cows in the
brook, and a hunter in the background
looking down the barrel to see if it is
A New York man advertises troches
for dogs, which are guaranteed to make
the breath of poodles and pugs as
sweet as Desdemona's.
The Question "How to Study"?The Conditions
and Methods Ably Set forth
l>y l'rof. Harper.
| New School Rules in Sail Francisco.?Controllings
Children without the Kxcrcise
of Physical Force.
HOW TO STUDY.
The following points were prepared
by the writer for the use of his school.
Many of them may be profitably enlarged
upon by the teacher.
Thousands fail in all departments of
labor and enterprise for want of sufficently
understanding the principles
which underlie success. Many fail, or
partly fail, in study for the same reason.
But nowhere else is success more
important than here.
1. The first requisite is good health.
Mental labor taxes the energies even
more than physical. A reasonable
amount of exercise, plenty of nourishing
food, pure air. and an abundance
of sleep are uidispeniaoie. ac tne same
time mental, like physical labor, is in
itself healthful; and "even those whose
health is not vigorous will not only be
injured, but many even be benefited,
by a moderate amount of it.
2. Success comes to no one without
earnest, diligent, and patient effort.
"There is no royal road to learning."
Do not expect it.
3. Cultivate a love for study. The
great truths of science and the treasures
of literature are -worth all the
labor it can cost to possess them. To
even half appreciate them will give
study a constant attraction.
4. Let your school work have the
first place in your interest "Ye cannot
serve two masters." Your evenings
should never be spent in such a
way as to make it difficult to do good
work next day.
5. Never yield to discouragement.
To succeed anywhere requires courage
and perseverance, and all have their
times when things do not look bright.
If it is hard to attain excellence in one
study, in others it will not be. Labor
omnia vincit,?the phrase, too, dates
i i fa.
UUCtv to ICli 11IUU Ui IUU ilLUJlCLi L5, tlUU.
lias been found true ever since.
6. Do not worry about results.
Those who are really diligent and persevering
will always "pass," and with
I creditable rank; they will also constantly
gain power to d> wetter.
1. Do all work thoroughly. Without
the spirit of thoroughness it is only a
question of time when you will fail and
drop out. of school with more or less
aversion to study,?a poor preparation
for success afterward.
2. Prepare every lesson thoroughly.
In no other way is thoroughness possible.
8. Let your object be to master the
subject, rather than the text-book.
A WoTc-orn imoo-iniTifr tViof tr/xn r?
T? Jk/wn lUV Vi I.UUII J VI* VMM
make up deficiencies "any time." You
cannot. To plan in that way is to arrange
for failure. Every future time is
likely to bring even more, and probable
more imperative, claims on your .
time than the present.
5. Make your time count. Do not
spend an hour, as it is very easy to do,
on work that might be as well or better
done in half au hour. Form and maintain
good habits of study: the effort required
will be repaid with high interest.
Without energetic and self-denying
effort, no one has a right to expect success.
Study means work, not play.
6. Do not study without thinking.
"Read not to believe and take for
granted, but to weigh and consider."
"To read passively to learn is, in reality,
not to learn at all." Kot what you
cram, -but what you assimilate, is the
measure of success.
7. Subjects in which you have most
interest may properly receive more at
tension than others. Your success in
life" may depend on what you can do in
those lines. But good work should be
done in. all.
* 8. Liberal and "constant use should
lie made of all books of reference within
reach. "Without this, a high grade
of scholai*ship is hardly possible. Occasionally
more extended reading than
the reference in hand requires will also
'be useful. : \
~~9. Be alert to acquire general knowledge
byjrcading, conversation, inquiry,
or observation, as you have opportunity.
: Much of-.the most valuable knowledge
is found outside of text-books. It
is an excellent plan to have a library,
however small, and one or more
periodicals of your own. The supplementary
knowledge thus gained will
also make that acquired in your schoolwork
more practical and valuable.
1A XT ?:n li t.
-LU. JLUUr IJULUbtU ?111 uauunuj
either "as much as possible" or "as
little as possible." Let it be the right
one.?Journal of Education.
Ought not primary science to have a
place in the conrse of study of onr primary
schools? What safer method of
teaching the eyes to see and ears to
hear, and what more important power
has man than seeing and hearing??S.
W. Journal of Ed.
How many of the public school
teachers make any use of the newspapers
in the school-room? Its educational
value to the reading public is
universally admitted, but it is not always
perceived that, judiciously used,
it might be made equally valuable in
the public school.?Canada School
One of the greatest.drawbacks to
progress in the workings of the schoolsystem
is the too frequent change of
teachers. Our teachers are perpetually
changing. State Supt Jiigbee was recently
quoted as saving: "Year by year
they come and go, and gain only a
transient accquaintance as they hurry
by. They seem almost as pedagogic
tramps, not teachers." Thelawrecently
proposed making it obligatory upon
school boards to employ all competent
teachers for a term of three years,
would in a measure correct this evil.?
Teachcr and Pupil, Media, Pa.
If the advocates of the so-called, and
falsely so-called, "New Education" are
taken to task pretty sharply, they have
no one to blame but themselves. For
some time they have had pretty much
their own way in conventions anu journals,
for those who were not carried
away by the novelty of the thing were
obliged to wait uniil they could learn
wnat ms rftw aoetrine is. An lo! it is
cot new,?it is very old. But the coolest
thing about it is the bold assumption
that everything good is a part of
i che new, and everything bail belongs
j to the old.?Educational CuU/dnt.
j The little ones will be specially de|
lighted with the knowledge that a
j principal may grant a half-holiday on
I Friday, once a month, to the ten in
each class ranking highest in scholar:
ship and deportment during the pre!
ceding month. The new rules say that
| principals shall have the power to sus!
pend pupils for a period not exceeding
| one ween; ana wnere me case, m iueu. j
| judgment, merits a greater penalty, J
they shall report thefact to the Committee
on Bules and Regulations.
Heretofore the pupil might be suspended,
and be pretty sure that he
could be re-instated on the application
of his parents to the Superintendent of
Schools, who has the -power to annul
the order of the teacher, but who 'has
now been deprived of that privilege.
The rules and regulations of the -present
are regarded by parents and thinking
teachers as very thorough and excellent.?Sati
A large proportion or tne pupus in
the grammar schools end their schoollife
before reaching or without entering
the high school. Hence the grammar
schools are not, and ouo;ht not to
be, perverted into merely exclusive fitting-institutions
for a speculative
standard for the high school.?Supt.
W. IF. Waterman, Taunton, Mass.
Children can now be controlled without
the exercise of physical force, because
they find greater pleasure . in
stud}$r thjn. in. disorder and mischief.
The culture .of the/teachers is so much
greater, and the tastes of the children. ;
is so much refined, that that which
gave inexpressible enjoyment to the
children of twenty years ago, is now r
looked upon with disgust Forced
study and forced order will still further .
disapper as our methods of teaching,-g
become more perfect In the new edu- *
cation more time is given to the study .
of the English language and literature. ]
This is a distinguishing feature be- *
tween the old and the new. Not that
less attention is given to the ancient 1
and foreign languages, but the English \
receives quite as much attention and is j
awarded a place of at least equal im- <
portance with them.?Supt. B. W ]
Stevenson, Columbus, 0.
The Chicago Board of Trade Clock. ,
The clock is made of iron, bronze, \
and steel, and weighs ten tons without *
the belL which weighs 4.500 pounds I
more. The pendulum alone weighs ?
750 pounds. The works, which follow f
the plan of the great Westminster i
clock of London, are divided into a *
time-train, a hand-train, and a striking- \
train. These trains are separate ma- .
chines, resting, side by side, on separ- ?
ate frames. The time-train simply p
keeps time. The hand-train generates
the force that moves the hands on the ,
dials in the tower and in the main, hall;
and is set off at the proper time by the .
time-train. The striking-train gener-i $
ates the force that strikes the bell, andi^i :
like the hand-train, is set off at the,
proper -time by the time-train. Each'
of these trains is operated by a separate',
weight, and the three weights together;
weigh 3,500. The hammer that strikes^
the bell was to have' weighed. 12ft; .
pounds, but a patent hammer weigh*- a
ing only eighty pounds has, been pre** :
ferred. The clockwork is below the? (
dials, which are ten feet ten inches in; '
diameter, and the bell is above themf
and 250 feet from the ground.
The note which the bell sounds is <V
and an octave lower than C on tho<
added line below the staff. It is very _J
musical indeed, but Mr. Drake insist^. j?
upon it that the guests of the Grand
Pacific did not care 'to listen 'jho. Its !
music all through the night, 'and; thai '
he wouldn't have i&It w^s ^agreed thereffffe
to make stwtr"cfi^Sgds in ""the
clock as would make it siient after 9
o'clock at night until 6 o'clock the next J
wrtwiw/* fr> TXT <1TT if ?a Violipvpri I
V"w "?V " ~
that all of Mr. Drake's boarders who
have good habits will escape annoyance.
It is thought that the slats in
the windows of the belfry are much too
close together to permit the . sound of
the bell to be heard as it should be, and
that they will have to be altereu.
The manufacturers of this clock say
that the pendulum of the clock in Dr.
Tyng's church in New York, which
they made, has not stopped since it
was started, twenty-five years ago, and
they see no reason why tbe Chicago
pendulum should not vibrate as iong or
twice as long without interruption.
The Chicago pendulum swings one way
in two seconds. The manufacturers
say also that a somewhat smaller clock
which they have on exhibition in New
Orleans has not varied a second since
last Spntfimbpr. and that thev will be i
disappointed if the Chicago clock varies
more than a second in a year. The
Chicago clock is called, as to size, a
movement No. 20, and is the same in
size as the clock, made by the same
house, in Independence Hall, Philadelphia,
and that cost $10,000, though the
Chicago clock contains some improvements
over the Philadelphia clock.
Made Her Pile.
An old woman ^vhose face had been
familiar for years about the streets as
a beggar had been missing for some 1
time, and the kind-hearted young fellows
of the Oil Board, who had known
her well, marked her absence. After a !
while she reappeared, looking much
younger and free from any crook in
her back. Her rags hud given place
to a tidy dress of neat. black cloth,
and she" nodded pleasantly to old ,
friends, who hardly dared to believe
they saw "O.d Slag" before them. 1
She explained, however, that she had 1
begged for twenty years and had '
saved persistently. 'While going from '
office to office she learned the condition !
of the market, and she had profited by
taking turns on her own account "But, .
Mag, you can't have enough to live on ;
always, have you?" asked a broker,
whose mouth was open with astonishment
Mag laughed quietly. "Why I
not my friend?" she said. "I sail
for Europe Saturday, and I propose to
spend $12,000 during the year, and :
that is not one-third of my incomc."
"How old arc you? You look twenty !
T-ao*.o TT/Minn/M. " > 'T too a 3Q lash hirth
A IIMW wv *?*W.
day. When I was 18 1 commenced to
make my way down here, and that was :
twenty years ago-"" "With your 1
knowledge of the street," why don't '
you stay here and speculate?" "No, 1
my son," she said, with a smile. "I .
am not a fool. I have my pile, and i
out I go. I have seen the- rich grow ;
poor. I have gone cold and hungry to '
become rich, and now I shall live welL
And, if 1 stay here, why, all you boys ;
will want to marry mo to protect me, I i
suppose. Good-by. This is my last '
day in Wall street."?New York Tele- i
At West Ansonia, Conn., resides a 1
lad of ten who was afflicted with a seed <
wart on the top of his foot. It was '
very troublesome at times, and he oft- !
> 1 -i a. ?. |
en loosenea ms siioe 10 prevcuo wc irritation.
On two occasions the wart <
had been cut to the surface of the foot,
but would soon grow again, each time
to larger proportions. A few weeks ;
since as the boy was sitting at the ta- <
ble eating his dinner, his shoe off, as ;
usual, a large pet rooster came in for ,
the crumbs, and in his haste to get
away with as many as possible in a :
short time seized the wart. Before the
lad could shake him off be with his
forcep-shaped beak pulled the wart out
by the roots. The wound healed in a <
few days and there is no appearance
of further growth. <
3?j OUR CRAZY QUILT.
.-Vjb Authority on Dress Describes tlie Outlook
for Next Season's Styles.
jffiathers and Birds Give I'lace to Flotrers
THE SUMMER OUTLOOK.
ns look beyond Lout into the
fashions of the coining season, writes
Gara Belle in a recent letter. Nearly
all evening dresses will be made with
mAr/i /\y locc o TV 17 C f C I
Vi U-iUO Vi U1V1V Vi uuu f! Mtwkw
that are cut round and sleeveless, or
"with a square neck and elbow sleeves.
Brides and their bridesmaids for afterEaster
weddings, have a variety of materials
to select from. Satins in ivory
tmts, trimmed with a profusion of
pearls and Jace, will, however, be
most popularly^yorn by brides, and
pale colored tuJIjeK.o'Eef satins by their
bridesmaids.- ^Veils of Uul]e fastened
bji^bpnch of '- wil,4"'^ip&ts^ ^dafjodils,
c&Iomej spring flower will'^e Vorn bx*
bridesmaids at sevei^ol^hionable-wecF
dings. |S/he veils will . be - short and
^oraftrown from5 the face. Velvet
ydll bS largely used for spring and
jammer?early for entire costumes,
and later in combinations with all descriptions
of goods. In colors, greens
are especially popular; browns, blues,
and the new crimsons are also in demand.
Velvet figures on wool, in Oriental
or floral designs, and in strides,
knd in .contrasting shades, are among
the most striking novelties. Surahs,
$>oth silk and satin, are shown for combination
with brocade matching in color,
and showing detached figures often
Contrasting in color. Black, shellpink,
and Tight blue on almond, fawn,
?.nri crn1rip>n hrnwn shades, are am on or
jhe favorite designs. Plain and plaid
surahs form another combination, and
Hvhere the ground of the plaid matches
the plain material they are particularly
attractive. Plain surahs and block
Resigns come next, the blocks being
alternately of the ground color, and of
a deeper or brighter tint. White will
be the favorite color for wear at the
fashionable resorts in the summer.
The new cashmerc in shades of white,
that are shown for morning wear, are
heavy of texture and very durable.
They can be washed like pique or other
White material. They will generally
be made up with a long pointed drapery
in front, edged with five or six
rows of silver braid. The zouave bodices
and round waists of all kinds will
pe worn in them, the ordinary basques
in these gowns being entirely dispensed
with. White goods, however, are in
many oases no longer white, but cream,
or even in pearl or ecru shades. Embroidered
batistes are quite generally
of these tints, and embroidered in white
or colors. Etamines in cream or light
buff, with self-colored embroider}-, are
jamnntr tVio r>/YColt.ip<2 ?1Tir1 1 AAt ?1<5 if
they would outwear the wearer.
It is eurious how much trade in women's
apparel depends on their freaks
of fashion. I have no means of knowing
the extent of the manufacture of
improvers," as the pads for bodices
hre called, but, judging by the display
of the stocks in the stores, it must at
onetime have been a flourishing industry.
Probably hundreds and hundreds of
poor families depended upon it for a
fhing^^And now see how, within a
Come impoverished by a discarding of
their wares by fashionable belles! les,
it is the desire of the fashionable maiden
of 1885 to be as flat as an infant,
and repression, rather than artificial
extension is the rule. The idea seems
to be that tardy physical development
indicates sweet juvenile innocence. .
Thus the girls of New York have been
transformed, as far as they can accomplish
it, into seeming dyspeptics, consumptives,
and crushlings?as though
cruel fate had flung them down and
sat upon them vary hard.
A general tendency in all wash goods
to cream, buff, and almond tints give
a sunshiny look to the counters given
to yiem. JLaces are more popular uiuu
ever, and are found on all articles of
dress from hats to shoes, adorning all
fabrics, silk, wool, or cotton, and are
themselves made of all materials and
combinations of materials. Jersey
jackets for spring wear are embroidered
in soutache or silver braid, and are
lined with satin. Pongees are likely
to be popular?the deep-colorod for
street and home toilets and for Mother
Hubbards. Light colored jerseys have
gone out of f?r, ion. White and cream
colored ones Inat are elaborately braided
are, and will be, much worn with
skirts of cashmere or surah. Illuminated
cloths come with both rou?;h and
smooth surfaces, and arc used for entire
costumes. A decided tendency to
use brighter colors is observable in this
class, but the dots of color are so small
and so cunningly mingled, the brightness
so hidden, that the critic cannot
describe the efi'ect as gay, or even
bright, though it is certainly the re
verse 01 auii or grave.
Feathers are no longer seen, nor
birds, with the exception of the smallest
of every sort, that no-tle in soft, mossy
chenille nests re*! ug upon small boughs
or stems, mi J oilier stems on which arc
congregated humming-birds and others
of the smallest, known and unknown.
Flowers surpass all previous efforts of
artists in rivaling nature. Yellow
lilies swing golden cups from long,
plastic stems; great Guelder roses, jus>t
tinted with palest pink; seeded meadow ,
grasses and purple clover; white and
purple lilacs; bunches of silky, flaffy
thistles and swamp meadow grasses
sparkling with dewdrops; dark, double
Parma violets contrasting with the
pale single violets; pale, pink-shaded
primroses and white violets; strange,
wierd orchids; all manner of field
flowers, such as the bine corn flower,
daisies, buttercups, wild roses, and
striped ribbon grasses, are tied together;
every variety of roses?velvety
pink, white, creamy, red, with dew
glistening in their hearts; branches of
fiAnflvsTJrtlrIa blowinc fairv horns of
vivid scarlet or pale gold dashed with
red, and other old-fashioned garden
flowers, and the simple Howers and the
graceful weeds of the field, even those
Saylight stars, dandelions, glinting
gold, take the place of the rare exotics'
The small gilt square and triangularheaded
pins reappear, and are set
about the brim of the bonnet similar to
those used last season. Long pins with
heads of square blocks or filligrec are
thrust through the trimming; an
eagle's claw holds a set of Rhine pebbles,
amber, a cat's-eve in appearance,
but really a species of chrysolite with
play of light similar to the costly stone,
excepting in colors, which are dark
green and blue, with a translucent
Among other delicatc and novel bonnet
trimmings are imitations of birds'
win^s and tails made of crepe lisse em
broidered in white silk applique on
velvet, and also in delicate gilt thread
on black lace. Gilt lace crowns are
open worked and also tinsel embroidered
oa white canvas. Tinsels come in
straw and gold, in different shades of
citron, buff, cream, and olive.
Ribbons partake of the excessively
gav Oriental styles described. These
are from seven to eight inches wide
when used for sashes, of delicate gauze
striped with velvet made liuffy with
chenille dots in bright Roman colors
and Scotch plaids. Others come in
etamine glittering with gold thread and
silk.?New York Tribune.
Osman Digma a Frenchman.
It may not be generally known that
Osman Digma is a Frenchman by
birth, and was born in 1832, in a small
hotel in Rouen. His father dying a
year or two after, his mother married
an Alexandrian merchant in 1887, half
French and half Egyptian, of the name
of Osman Digma, who, (taking a great
fancv to voune OsmjS, at that time
named Alphonse Vinet), insisted on
having his name changed to his own,
ajid, dying in 1842, left him. about 500,i)00.francs.^
After the death of his stepfather
hp ^ as left to the guardianship
of Ali Knana, a kind of half partner of
the elder Osman, a Mussulman, who,
at the death of Mme. Digma, in 1844,
took young Osman into his house. His
religion at that time, being very much
of the Christian unattached type, was
soon converted into Mohammedanism.
Ali Khana was a very wealthy man,
and lived in great Oriental pomp and
splendor. Though intending to be
very kind to young Osman, his kindness
was of a very Spartan order, indeed.
He had numerous professors
for various branches of learning, and
would often be examined by Ali him
self, who, it be did not consider tnat ne
had made progress, would have him
At the a?:e of 15 he was sent to Cairo
to an ex-French officer to be taught tbe
various methods of European warfare.
Capt. Meraie had some fifty boys residing
in his house studying war in all its
branches, two or three of whom havo
since become famous, not least among
them being Arabi Pasha. It is strange,
as illustrating the oid saying that
4'the boy is father to the man," that
both Osman and Arabi distinguished
themselves as leaders in the mimic
battles fought in the grounds of Capt
Meraie, the former in a dashing swooping
kind of way, carrying everything
before him, and the latter as a tactilinn
Thn nnnjonnuiiPP W9? that a
V*l4-bU* JL ii\/ WUiJVV^MVUVV ?? ?m?* ?
rivalry existed between the two, both
having about an equal number of their
school-fellows siding with them. Osman
remained here until his 19th year,
when he was sent by his guardian to
France on. matters relating to Ali's
In 1866 he obtained the command of
his regiment, but shortly afterward,
offending the khedive, he had to leave
Egypt, and his property was confiscated,
lie then went to Suakim and entered
business as a ship-chandler and coal
agent under an assumed name; but,
while on a hunting expedition, he was
captured by a roving band of Arabs,
and was sold as a slave to the man who
at present calls himself the mehdi.
The mehdi was charmed with his new
slave, as a man of unbounded learning,
and who would be able to train hi3
numerous supporters in the art of war.
He gave Osman his daughter in mar"
XlUgCj' auvl Lia.0 i-1 u ^iri-oo ?hrTO
as a son.
Tom Ochiltree's Railways.
The National Republican has tho
following concerning ex-Congressman
Thomas Porterhouse Ochiltree, who
was in Washington this week a day
oj two in company with John W.
As he got aboard a west-bound train
last night to begin a journey to California,
CoL Ochiltree said: "The political
arena will know me no more
forever. You see me and Mackey have
some new railroads to look after that
will occupy my time for the next ten
years and I will have no leisure for
politics. When a man has 400,000 to
600,000 miles of railroads to build he
has no taste for ward meetings and
"Why, colonel," asked a bystander,
"isn't that figure a little steep?"
"Steep, the devil!" exclaimed the'
rubicund Texan. "Why, that isn't a
patching to what we are really going
to do. I put the figures low because l
didn't want you to think I was overdrawing
the thing. Instead of four or
five hundred thousand miles, our new
road will aggregate into millions. Why,
sir, when we get our system in Mexico
completed, that cayote republic
will loo? like an old-fashioned gridiron,
and the whistle of our locomotive will
make a continuous roar along the confines
of that God-forsaken country
from Bagdad to Guaymas, and from
Cape Isabel to the Rio del Norte; and,
sir? " But just then the colonel's
train began to move westward, and the
graphic picture of what he andMackey
propose to do in railroad construction
What Some Rich Men Have Done.
Here are figures showing what some
rich men have done. Johns Hopkins
gave $3,148,000 to the university which
he founded. His gifts for benevolent
purposes amounted to 8S,000,000.
Judge Packer gave S3, (-00,000 to Lehigh
University." Cornelius Vanderbilt
gave $1,000,000 to the Vanderbilt University.
Stephen Girard gave $8,000,000
to Girard College. John C. Green
on/4 Vnc rocirlniw lpcr<vtpp<; <r!ive &1.500.
000 to Princeton College. Ezra Cornell
gave SI,COO,000 to Cornell University.
Isaac Kich bequeathed the greater
part of his estate, which was appraised
at $1,700,000, to Boston University;
on account of t lit; great fire
and shrinkage in value, ami other unfortunate
circumstances, tiie university
will realize less than $700,000 from this
magnificent bequest. Arnasa Stone
gave $600,000 to Adellicn College by
direct gift and by bequest. W. W. i
Corcoran gave $170,000 io Columbian
University"in money and land. Benjamin
Bussy gave real estate worth
ssnn n<Y> tn Wnrvird TT?nvt!r>itv. Sam
uel Williston, William J. Walker, ana
Samnel A. Hitchcock gave between
$100,000 and ?200,000 <;. cli lo Amherst
College. Whitmer Phaviix gave the
bulk of his properly, amounting to
about $640,000, to Columbia College.
J. B. Trevor gave $179,0 0 to Rochester
Theological Seminary. Matthew
Yassar gave $800,000 to Vassar College.
Gardner Colbv gave $170,000 to
Colby University aDd ?100,000 to Newton
Theological Seminary. J. B. Colgate
gave $300,000 to Madison University.
George 1. Seney gave $450,000 to
Wesleyan University. The Crozer family
gave $300,000 to Crozer Theological
The projected bridge across the
Straits of Messina will span a channel
thirty-six feet deep and two and a half
miles wide. The viaduct will be supported
by two land towers and three
piers, eacn o,^ou iuul uyiuu iiic ueigm.
of the bridge above the water will be
328 feet This enterprise will tax the
skill of the Italian engineers.
What Constitutes Backbone.
When a person compliments another
by saving he has a good deal of "backbone"
he comes very near stating a
scientific truth without knowing it,
perhaps. At least so remarked a naval
medical officer to a reporter of the
Star the other day, as the latter stopped
to chat in the room of the naval examining
board. "Step up here a moment,"
continued the officer, conducting
the reporter to a measuring rod
which stood in one corner of the room.
This rod, beside having the movable
arms with which a man's height is
gauged, had another intermediate arm
below, by which the length of his legs
is determined. The difference between
these measurments, of course, shows
the length of his body and bead, or
the length of his spinal column, including
his head. "There," said the
officer, after the reporter had subjected
himself to the measuring process,4'you
are 69f inches tall, your legs arc 33$
inches long?pretty good legs?and
that leaves -a- lengthy-af. body...of?,36
inches. That's very good; above the
"Weil, what does it all mean?"
asked the reporter.
"Boiler power," remarked aa official
who was standing near.
The medical officer, enlarging on the
figure thus suggested, proceeded:
"That's it You see (putting his hand
on his head), here's the governor.
Here," he continued, lowering his
hand on his chest, "is the boiler. The
lungs and the heart are here, and below
are the abdominal organs or viscera.
Your mouth and nostrils are
blowers. You shovel in coal?take
food?in your mouth. It is turned
I into steam?blood and goes out in [
every direction, you see, toward?the
surface. Now the man with a long
body has a great 'deal of boiler surfaced"
"Then the man with considerable
backbone is stronger than the man
who has not?" : - : >f
"Well, that is one circumstance to
be considered, with others of course.
The man with backbone is apt. to
have greater power of resistance. Be
can endure more toil and resist disease
longer. Why, there were no men in
the war so good for a long march as
your duck-legged fellows with long.
bodies. The long-legged men "coula
not stand it
"There was a case here not long ago,"
continued the officer, "which,
would indicate that a man's backbone
has a great deal to do with his general
character. An officer who was examined
for promotion was found to be
physically, mentally, and professionallyunfit,
and also morally unfit He was
droDDed from the service. When we r
came to take his measurement we"
found he had the shortest backbone of
any man in the navy who had ever
been examined. He did not have
great physical power of resistance,
you sec. When at the naval academy
he stood very high. When he had to
do duty it is probable that his strength
failed him, and he resorted to stimulants.
The taking of stimulants became
a babit, and gradually affected
his intellectual powers. His mind being
weakened, his morals were soon
U.llltJ luiwud All?if fKis yrtn tjfQ V laughed
the officer," "came, of course,
from having a short backbone."?
A Gigantic Gor^e.
A correspondent of the San Francisco
Chronicle, describing the appearance
of the Yosemite valley "from Conway's
Eagle point trail, says:
Une who has not ascended this trail
going to Eagle peak, while in Yosemite,
can form no idea of the giant gorge.
There is no one point in the valley, to
the writer's knowledge, where a person
can get such a vivid idea of the terrific
action which has produced this wonder
of nature as from the final glimpse of
this trail down to the gorge below. You
are in a narrow, V-shaped basin, a
giant wall of two thousand feet at your
right hand, and on your left the round- ,
ed granite slope, just over whose crest
plunges and tears the famous creek
that a few rods farther on makes the
wildest, most torrilic, aud at the same
time most beautiful bound out into the
air and down, down a never-ending
distance, seemingly blown into smoke,
torn into lace, rent iuto ribbons, thrust
and pushed into crystal uoiutsof snowy
whiteness aud icieiehke sharpness, full
of rainbows, singing its <nvn anthem.
If. is the YoiietmLu fill!, win its far below
sparkles a pendulous and winding
thread?the Yosemitc crei-k at the foot
of the lower falls finding its \v:iy to the
Merced. The valley lluor from" here is
a mere spot, and the ^'.:i t \V:ijls rising
on either hand nearly |?r}>eudicuiarly.
make the gorge seem 10.CH.HJ t\wt deep.
There is no spot where the grandeur of
the Yosemite is so iuny realized as
from here. . Stripped of i!?s beautiful
and soft hazy coloring; its ever-changing
and marvelous stone cuttings lost
to view; its green va;iey. gone; its
beautiful expanse swallowed up by
granite walls, it stands 'out i'rom here
in its truth, what it really is, a terrific
chasm bound by jagged granite pinnacles.
The ride up to the.summit of the
ItoiI 15 lf> llli? i:i?; ili'tffCA Tfc
is in distance fonr milea. :t:ni the altitude
above * the valley is about 3,000
? I O
Naming the Birds.
Every now and then the Zoological
garden has a pair of young birds sent
to it without- any other information re- 1
gar ding them than the whereabouts of
their capture. The persons who send
them do not know of what speciesr
they are, and think, of course, that the
ornithologists of the garden will have
no difficulty in giving them their proper
name- It is. not generally known that
some birds have four distinct sets of
Dlumaee. and that the last suit is the 1
one that is described in the text-books
and by which the- species is. determined.
"We have lots of trouble about this
thing," said Supt Brown as he sat in
his comfortable office, surrounded with
zoologies, ornithologies, stuffed monkeys,
cabinet pictures of baboons, and
crocodiles' skulls. "Now, there are
the American sea gulls. No one can
tell what species a young pair will de- '
velop into. They have to be measured
for their final suit of clothes and put
them on before we can name them.
"Some time ago four raccoons were
traded off for two strange voung birds.
We knew they came from South America
and that was all we did know 1
Those birds have lately put on their
spring suits and have turned out to be
very rare . and valuable, but they
might have turned out quite commonplace
for all anybody could tell."?
The tower of the new city building
at Philadelphia will be higher than the
Washington monument, but the unequal
settlement of the walls has cracked
and shattered the finely carved stone
work on the interior wall a.
This city, writes a Spri:i?rfield (Mass.)
correspondent to the New York Tribune,
has not lacked a share in the sad romance
of the late Arctic explorations.
Several years ago a promising youn?;
man here, the only son of a widowed
mother, and a general fiivoriie in social
circles, caught the "Arctic fever," and
against the protests of his family and
friends joined one of the reiief expeditions.
Tor a time all went well, but as x
has so often happened, the ships were frozen
in and the men were forced to
take to the ice to make their wav out.
On their .dreary march to the nearest
station a cake of ice on which the
Springfield boy happened to be was detached
from the main floe and he was
carried out to sea. His comrades were
unable to rescue him, and he drifted
off into the darkness, as they were only
too sure, to certain death. The re-.
mainder of the party arrived safely at
their destination. As soon as possible
the news of the young-man's loss was
sent to his mother,., but she obstinately
refused' tcTtjeKeve that he was dead.
Her faith was strengthened by the arrival,
some months later, of a letter
her son had written her on the Christmas
day preceding the abandonment %
of the ships; In which he spoke confidently
of being with her almost as soon
as the letter reached her. . As it had
been sent by a roundabout way.. across .
Siberia and* Russia, the delay was only
natural, but the mother saw in it a
fresh confirmation of her hopes. - '
T'v." fins? Ktt fiY"ria in- ! ^
IUC UUU *JJ HUM WWV g&vuu MAto
a monomania, and she determined
to leave no means untried of ascertaining
if i her . son really Jived. Without
the knowledge of her family, she went
to a "medium" who happened to be in
Springfield at the time and consulted
her as to the whereabouts of an absent j,
friend. Her excitement, was, increased '
by being told that the person, of whom
she asked had been cast away in a/far
country among savage tribes,r whd; had
nursed him tenderly through a long illness;
that he was still weak, but was
on the road to health. Almost beside
herself, the poor mother tried in vain
to convert her family to her belief. - ; .
Finding it- impossible^ to shake her
faith in her son's existence by argument,
they finally tried change of scene
and travel. But while in Boston she - .. ^
once more visited a clairvoyant, who,
strangely enough, confirmed the state'
/ ?.J!- mur
men is 01" ine lvriucr mwnumr 11119
one described in dramatic terms?first, *
a young man picked up in mid-ocean
by a passing vessel; then a port ma
distant land, ships in a harbor, figures
in strange costumes moving about the
streets,, speaking in a foreign language,
a small house near the water, in it the
same youth, once more recovering from
a severe illness and longing , for home,
but unable to find the means to return
to-bis own country.
Of course, after this second experience,
it was- useless-to try further diversion,
even had the broken-hearted
woman not insisted on returning home
to be ready in case any news should
come of her boy. The delusion was so
strong that as a; last resort her friends
wrote begging the commander of the
expedition to come to Springfield and
let the mother' hear from his own
wuiUCf buav iu< ui-ii-o iiiouu&i ouv
might be convinced that he was really
dead. The kind-hearted captain came
and told the sad story, and for a while
the mother seemed to accept the inevitable.
But the old belief soon resumed
its sway, and she is again
watching and waiting for tidings that
can never come. ? . :v /;
? i m
Bertha Von Hiliern.
An illustrated article on American
artists in the New York Sunday World
contains the following concerning wellknown
Boston artists: "One of the / &
most remarkable women who labor at
the easel in the United States is Miss
Bertha von Hillern. Miss von Hillera
has lived a life of romance such as
would be better in place in a novel than
a biographical sketch*. Ten years ago
when the pedestrian mania ha<l reached
such a height in this city that women
had begun to contest for the prize of
endurance as well as men,'a sturdy lit- v;:
uc AUbii iuu >v uuj.ua appcaicu iu
arena and won the championship seven-days'
record for-wherself. Her appearance
on the track occasioned a , :;>
perfect furor, and when she took her
training in Central park she was always
guarded by a strong squad of
feminine supporters. From this city
she went to Boston, where she made i
an equal hit She had repeatedly announced
that as soon as she had saved
sufficient money she proposed to retire
and study painting. She carried out
her purpose in Boston by entering the / ?
studio of William Hunt, one of. whose
favorite pupils she became. Miss von
PTSllom ?? n IfjnricMnp. nf rrmoh
ability, and has been eminently successful
in depicting the grander phases of
American forest scenery, of which she
is especially fond. Inseparably associated
with the name of Bertha yon
Hillern is that of her sister artist and
companion, Maria J..jC. Becket. Miss
Becket is an American, of an. old Catholic
family, with a long record of usefulness
and eminence in society and the
church. She is a woman of extraordinary
quickness of perception and keenness
of intellect, and counts among her .. '%
friends the most eminent French and
American artists of the generation. She .
had traveled, lived in France and Italy,
and studied art there before she entered
the famous studio of William Hunt,
in Boston. There she met Miss von
Hillern, and discovered in her a congrenial
soul. Since then the ladies have
lived and worked together, spending
their winters in New York and Boston,in
which latter city they hold a sort of
aristocratic salon weekly, and their
summers in a studio among the forests
of Virginia. Their studio at Strasburg
is one of the wonders of the Old Dominion.
Miss Becket, like Miss von ^
Hillern, is a landscape painter, with a >-2
fine feeling for the poetry of nature,
and a leaning toward the grave and
quiet color commoELto all pupils of the
cjreat Boston master. The sobriety of
her art is by no means, reflected in her
sociai qualities, ior sue is one or me
most brilliant and widely-instructed
conversationalists in the western continent."
Trees have been found in Africa <
which were computed to be 5,150 years
old, and a cypress in Mexico is said to
have reached a still greater age. The
oldest individual specimen of any
species?in fact the oldest living thing
upon the globe?is probably the
cypress of Santa Maria del Tule,
in the Mexican state of Oax- . "?;
aca. If estimates of tree ages
are to be relied upon the life of ; 3
this venerable forest monarch may
have spanned the whole period of written
history. At last accounts it was
still growing and in 1851, when Humbold
saw it, it measured forty-two feet
in diameter, 146 in circumference and
282 feet between the extremities 01 two
opposite branches. .