Newspaper Page Text
A RECIPE FOR YEAST.
A KAjrorn. null of fragrant bop deposit In
Then add a pint of Adam's ale, and boll them till
Then If you wish to brew good yeast lively and
sweet, you'd aughter
Take four potatoes, medium elsed, and wash them
well with water;
Stoat them of their Jackets next in common par
Then make aHnrance doubly tore, and banish all
Br an frequently giving tnem another grand ablu
Then boil them half an hoar, perhapt; of course
vnnr tnHtrmttnt nainer
Or ateam tnem. If yon like it beet, the method's of
your cnooein .
But whether boiled or cooked by steam, the procet
should l-e rapid ;
Potato modemuly cooked are heavy, soggy.
Then mash them thoroughly, each lump with vij
And pot them In a vessel which leaves ample room
for rising; -A
cup half tilled with sngar dri; 'twill sweeten it
It needs the same amount or salt; yonll find It
The bop iifajloii strain is nexqelnst, yon mind,
oy measure ;
Then with two quarts of wabatWarm dilute It at
And to gently keep it moving, from circumference
Sever fall to bid your Miocr spoon Its hidden depth
Then acid two brimming enps of yeast, and quickly
The free rant mixture to subject to brisk manlpn-
And, when the entire ingredients are mingled well
Then give the opportunity to rise, according to the
In winter set It near the stove, and oft renew the
In summer, place it farther off; the temperature is
Then patiently the issue wait, while Time his flight
Its statos ecanning now and then; and when you
near u singing,
.And see npon its surface now here, now the:
Toull feel a thousand-fold repaid tor all your toll
dive to the winds al. Idle fears; all doubts, all
scruples banish :
And when the bubbles thicken fast, and crowd and
Dreaa ano vanuo.
The yeast is prime, your toll is o'er, success has
And loaves of tender, light, sweetbread are loom
ing m me instance.
Oliver OptieU Magazine,
Is the World Round or Flat.
Aboctp a year ago an eccentric philoso-
. pner ot .London, .England, named John
Hampden, baying convinced bimaelt be
yond all perad venture that the world
wns flat, not round, as commonly gap
posed, undertook the arduous missiorary
wore ct convening mankind to his way
of belie'. Not making much progress by
following tbe ordinary methods cf private
preching, he resorted to the expedient of
ottering a bet npon the subject, lie made
public announcemt nt, offering to stike
' $2,500 against $2,500, to be pat up by any
scientific man, that he could prove that
tbe earth was flat, and not round, as every
body else believed.
No one appears to have taken immeci
ate notice of this absurd offer, whereupon
Hampden came oat with another an
nouncement, in which he boldly declared
that scientific men knew they were gu'lty
or an imposition in propounding the round
theory, and that, in cons- ouencv. the?
were afraid to take up his challenge, and
stake $2,500 as he proposed.
Bat the challenge having come to the
notice of Mr. Alfred Rnssel Wallace, a
gentleman of high reputation, and a mem
ber ot several scientific societies, he ac
cepted the conditions, and put op his $2,
6'JO. lms amount, together with a simi
lar amount put up by Hampden, was de
posited, sabject to the order of the rtferee,
Mr. Walsh, editor of the Field newspaper,
who was to pay over the $5,000 to the
Tne mode adopted for settling the
question was planned by Hampden, the
advocate of the flat theory, and the ex
periment appears to have been conducted
in all respects as he desired. The ground
selected was a six mile level, on the Bed
ford Canal. Three long poles of equal
length were provided, and planted at
equal depths, and at distances of three
miles apart. A telescope was then em
ployed, through which it was clearly and
nnmistakeably perceived that the central
pole waa five feet above the level line of
the telescope, which at once proved tbat
the earth was not flat but round. Mr.
Hampden expressed himself satisfied that
lie had lost the bet, and the money was ac
cordingly paid over by the referee to the
winner, Mr. Wallace.
The experiment and the telescope were
level, but not so the head of Hampden.
He that's convinced against h's will, is of
the fame opinion stilL It was not Jong
before Hampden woke op to the mortify
ing conclusion that he nad made a blun
der, or that in some way he had been be
fogged. His reason told him that the
earth was still flit, not round, as that ly
ing telescope and those fibbing poles had
affirmed. He concluded also, that Wal
lace was a thimble rigger, a pickpocket, a
liar, and a swindler, and went about pro
claiming these libels in the most unblush
ing manner. This so annoyed WaUace
that he brought suit for libel against
Himpden, atd the jury lately mulcted
lain in $3,000 damages, making a sum
total of $5,500 cash paid cut on account
of his theory that the earth is flit Poor
Hampden is indeed a martyr to science.
Scientific American. . . "
A Singular Custom.
The moment the breath leaves the body,
it is hastily arrayed in the finest robe
which the purse of the relative will per
mit, and hustled away by some official of
government to a building in the cemetery
prepared for its reception. Here the body
is elevated on a sort of inclined plane,
which is covered with flowers ; the quality
of the flowers, too, depends on the purse
of the friends, whether they are natural,
fragrant blossoms, or those manufactured
of tin, paper or rags. The body is envelop
ed in these often tawdry imitations, and
upon the thumbs are placed two small
rings, which are attached to slender wires
suspended from the center of the build
ing, and which, of course, enter the room
above. Here, at the end of the wires, bells
are arranged, and the slightest movement
of the body will cause a vibration in the
wire and sound from the belL Here sits a
person ever in wailing for a summons rxom
some one of the corpses below.
The ostensible reason given for this
inhuman custom of tearing the dead from
their homes, and having them thus expos
ed in a building open to every one who
may choose to enter, is the possibility that
life may not have become extinct, and yet,
after faithful inquiries, we have not been
able to learn of one instance where the
watcher was rousid by the ringing of the
Kich and poor are alike laid here, though
the same exclusiventss which separated
them in life is maintained here by their
friends. The building is divided into two
compartments ; the Largest and most at
tractive room, with its subdued light, is, of
course, occupied by the rich, while the
simpler one is used by the poor. The
decorations of tbe finest room are often on
a grand scale. Vi noticed here one little
infant not over a month old, dressed in a
robe of white silk, covered with a tulle,
and bordered with r.ch blonde lace ; this
child occupied a space long enough for an
adult, and the arrangement of the robe
gave it the appearance of a trail two yards
long. On ita head was a little cap, border
ed with a wreath of flowers. A sad con
trast was the innocent baby face, in the
quiet sleep of death, to this disgusting, os
tentations display about it.
It was not curiosity which led as to look
upon such a scene, bat a desire to satisfy
ourselves of its existence, and by a
moment's 6tay we were assured not only
of that, but of its wickedness also ; for
while we glanced at two sweet little chil
dren lying side by side, a mother dressed
in deep mourning came to take her last
look at her little one. As she stood among
crowd of indifferent lookers on, hearing
remarks as to which one was dressed beau
tifully and which was not, the great tears
rolled slowly down her cheeks, and the
sobs came deep and strong. Unable to
restrain them, and unwilling thus to ex
pose her sacred grief, she turned hurriedly
vway, and thus parted from her dead for
ever. Munich Cor. iV. T. Mail.
Ths following sign is posted in Fond
da Lac, Wis. : "Thias houce fore scaiL"
FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 15, 1871.
" Wk'd rather not take that bill, if you
plesse," said the clerk, handing me back
the twenty-dollar note 1 had given him.
" It may bs all right, but the Detector says
there are counterfeits on that issue. The
bank will open in half an hour, and they
will know there. If it is good, it will be
all the same to yon ; and if it is bad, why,
as you are a stranger on the island you
might be gone before we could get it back
"Very well," said I, "111 leave the
things and call for them when the bank
opens and I get my bill changed."
This conversation took place in a small
shop in the town of Nantucket, and " the
things " were some (South Sea carvings.
whale s teeth with sailor drawings on
them, and the like, which I had been buy
in?. The bill was the only one I had in
my possession, and I had no doubt of its
goodness, supposing l couia tea just
where it came from. I did not have so
many twenties in my hands then as to be
at any loss as to where I had taken them.
So I strolled down the sandy Main
street, and out on the silent and grass
grown wharf, lined with decaying ware
houses, looked at toe solitary ew x ora
yacht lying at anchor in trim beauty, and
then strolled up again just as the town
clock on the South Church tower was
striking nine, so as to enter punctually
the banc, the only bank wmcn tne tsiana
now maintains. I handed the bill to the
cashier and asked for change. He took
it, smoothed it professionally with a wave
of his hand, and was about to drop it in
the drawer, when something in it caught
his eye. He held it up to the bght, eyed
me, eyed the bill again, and then, with a
shake ot the head, pusnea it oacK over
the counter. " Bad, said he, laconic
- uad?" replied I. interrogatively.
" Counterfeit." he rejoined ; and then.
seeing by my blank look that I was really
surprised, he kindly pointed out the
marks by wmch to detect tne cneai.
looked and listened, but was not much the
wiser, for. to tell the truth, another train
of thought was at wo:k in my mind. What
was 1 to do !
This was the situation which, as I pock'
eted the bill and walked away toward the
Ocean House, came clearly before me. I
was then a junior clerk in a Boston house.
on a limited salary, and with but a trine of
income from other sources. I was an or
phan, and had not many acquaintances
and no relations near at nana, i naa come
to Nantucket on a fortnight s leave, and
mv time would be up the next day.
Now having been always careful about
money matters, and feeling a horror of
debt not always shared by young clerks of
nineteen, when 1 left home x naa tasen
with me just the little balance I had saved
up for my summer vacation, and had been
enjoying a well-earned leisure in various
cheap and innocent dissipations. I
had been sailing, nshing. ana oa-mng,
had driven out to " Sconset " and the South
Shore, had passed tiro rainy days in the
alcoves of the Athenceum, and had con
gratulated myself that 1 was keeping well
within bounds. This twenty I had enter
tained till the last. The night previous I
had settled my hotel bill, expecting to
leave that very morning in the boat, but
she had started at six to go to a wreck,
and her passengers had to choose between
some extra hours of sailing or waiting
over. I preferred the latter, especially as I
could so well afford it, for even then I
should get home with several dollars in
my pocket. Now, instead of the com
fortable capitalist I seemed, I was a
wretched bankrupt I went no to my
room, pulled out my pocket memorandum
of expenses, laid the unlucky bill upon
the tablej and sat down to think where I
could have got it. There was just a chance
that it might have been taken on the
island ; only I knew it wasn't. I remem
bered but too well that I had kept it in an
inner pocket of my port monnaie, resolved
to go home as soon as it became necessary
to break it But where could I have got
it? My money was always paid me by our
book-keeper, and he would have almost as
soon have taken the safe-key to wind up
his watch with as a doubtful note.
So I took up the bill and stared at it, as
people do, blankly trying to waken a
dormant memory. Then it all came to
The day before I left home I had been
sent up State Street to make a deposit
Before I started, seeing that the sum was
in 10's and 20'a. and as my own porte
monnaie was unpleasantly stunted with 1 s
which I had been saving up against vacation-time,
I had taken a 20 from the bank
book and put my own bills in its place.
How did I happen to have so many I s?
Young men, hope of the future commercial
circles of the country, attend! Every
week I paid my board bill, which was
nine dollars (before the war, you know).
and I earned every week fifteen, which I
received Saturday mgnt, in a o ana a lu.
The 5 went for various current expensas,
the 10 went to my landlady, the 1 I re
ceived in change was sacredly laid by for
vacation. Then I had my dividend which
came in July untouched, and was free to
go where I liked. This year, too, I had
earned something extra by doing other
fellows' work for them, so that 1 don't
think an easier-minded guostihad been at
the Ocean House that summer. I had
chosen Nantucket as a place where I
could do as I wanted to, where Pneed not
bargain and plan for cheapness, and should
not be cheated. 1 had louna just wnat l
wanted; I had had the best boatman,
good teams, and no young gentleman of
great expectations could have got more
enjoyment out of his money than I out
of mine. It had been a splendid financial
success np to this last disagreeable
But what was to be done now? There
would be another day's board at the Ocean
House: there was the fare to Boston:
things ordered at the " Curiosity Shop,"
which I felt I ought to take and a coun
terfeit bill I Whether this bill was my loss
not, i could not quite teiL
I inclined to think that Penrose, our
book-keeper would put it on to me, saying
that if I had deposited the bills I was sent
with, it would have been detected at the
counter of the bank.
However, that was not the question. I
could stand the loss of the 20 though
before the war, to a junior clerk of nine
teen, twenty dollars was not a trifle but
how to get home ! True, I could walk on
board the boat, bet they might refuse to
let me land at Eyannis, and the railroad
conductor would assuredly put me off be
fore I got even to Sandwich; so what
better should I be then ? Suppose I wrote
Boston, whom could I write to? I did
not know a soul to whom I dared apply.
Beside that, writing would do no good,
for I must leave the island the next
day. Mr. EUis, the second partner in
onr house, was to sail for Europe on
Saturday. I had been specially charged
before I could get my leave, that Fri
day night at eight o'clock I was to be
his house to take charge of some papers
importance for the firm. I was sure
that my situation would be gone if I
Something rrmsibe done. I went down
stairs and ashed for the landlord. He had
gone to New Bedford, and would not be
back till next day. I took the clerk into
rjy confidence, and tried to get a loan of
him. He had no money of hi own, and
could not, in the absence of his " boss,"
take the funds of the hotel. Besides, he
did not think my little valise adequate se
curity. Neither did I for that matter.
There was no telegraph nearer thin the
I went back to my room feeling desper
ate, and all the while a craving propensity I
to strike out into the most expensive
things I could do. It there had been a
gaming-table on the island, I do believe
(though I never went near anything of the
kind in my hie) 1 should have gone
I drew out my watch to see what the
hour was, and the thought of pawning it
struck me. Bat Nantucket does not pos
sess a loan office. I made careful in
ouirv. but nothing cf the sort was known.
However, I went to a watchmaker's and
laid my modest bat serviceable silver time
piece before him. He quietly declined to
consider tbe question.
" Does thee know," he said (he was a
Quaker) "that I have in that chist more'n
a dozen of the best London chronometers
and I can't sell one of them for what it's
worth? I should like to help thee, espe
cially as thee wants to be honest and not
put off bad money, but I do not see my
way clear to do so.''
But," said I, " I am not going to leave
the watch long. I shall send for it in a
week, perhaps in less time."
" So thee says, and no donbt thee thinks
so, bat thee will be off the island, and
then how can I get at thee ?"
" Yes, but yoa can tell whether that
watch is worth more than twice twenty
dollars or not" (it cost sixty. l "It it is.
can t yon see that it is my interest to re
" Well, thee knows best about that, but
it wouldn't be worth tbat to me, for I
might not sell it under a year, and thee'll
be off the island, where I can't get at
This was tbe key to the whole matter.
The ideas of the old gentleman were of a
date when the whaling business wis good,
and when his sailor customers were in the
habit of disappearing at "Turkey wonner.
" Hilo," " Sidney," and other Pacific porta,
and also of reappearing after many days to
claim long-forg.tten deposits. Time being
a commodity ot which there was a super
abundance in Nantucket, the market was
not brisk. I tme was not money.
I went home to dinner. There is that
comfort in a hotel, that the vacuus viator
can feed equally well with King Croesus
until the landlord says. "Go." At the
table I took my accustomed seat, Opposite
Miss Minnie e . We had made ac
quaintance but a fortnight before, through
her brother irred, whom 1 had "rescued
from a watery grave" ; I mean, pulled
into the boat from which he had tumbled
overboard on a blue-fishing excursion. She
was somewhat older than I, and that did
not interfere with our rapidly getting ac
She expressed great pleasure at finding
me still on the island, ana that we should
be fellow-travelers the next day. " In tact,
Mr. Wood bridge, 1 think, if I may take
so great a liberty, I will put myself under
your care, and let Fred stay another week."
acquiesced, though sorely doubtful
whether I should have the pleasure. How
ever, thought I, she will hand me her
purse to get the tickets and things, and
then I can pay for two, and return it when
1 get to Boston. 1 blushed as I thought
it but I would have given much for the
privilege of waiting on Miss tf , a noted
Boston beauty; and, moreover, I was
madly in love with her, of course.
though very much in doubt whether
it would be prudent to tell her
so. Then she went on: "1
have never been to the South Shore in all
tho three weeks' stay I have made." My
impulse was, of course, to invite her to
drive thither with me ; but that bill in my
pocket I ttfte went on in tbe most aggrav
ating way, "After yesterday's blow, they
say the surf will be splendid, the finest
this season." I was on the point of pro
posing that we should leaZJs there, when
she said, " Would it be too gnat a favor, if
yoa are not otherwise engaged, for yoa to
drive me out there ? t red has gone shark-
fishing, but he promised to order a buggy
before he left.
Of course I ioyfullv accepted, and I in
wardly blushed as I thought what might
not turn up. If, after all, I should find
favor in the eyes of the daughter of a mil
lionaire, all would be well ; and if not, let
me have what comfort I can. Tney let
thefellowB that are to be hanged call for
what they like for their last breakfast, I
believe! bo 1 thought; and when Miss
P went up to put on her things, I
went to the front of the Ocean House to
await the team. It came, but the stable
help in charge seemed to have something
on his mind. He looked nneasy, and then
said, as I approached to look at the horse
and inspect the harness, " Who shall this
be put down to? Mr. 1 was over
this morning and paid his bill, and said he
was going off the island to-morrow, and
didn't say nothing about his sister's
having any team. She sent over about an
hour aeo. an' the boss says he s' poses it 's
all right, but wimmen Is forgetful, and I
mustn't let them go without knowing who
was to have it" I gave my name ; but my
dealings having been with the other
stable," it made less impression than it
should have done. "Perhaps," said he,
" yoa wouldn't mind settling now in ad
vance ; 'n fact it 's charged tome anyhow ;
and for the afternoon it'll be three dol
lars. And then yon can stay at the Shore
's long 's you like."
I saw Miss f at the top of the stairs.
and felt I must act quickly. " Can yoa
change this?" said I, taking out the
twenty. "No, I tee you can't Very
well, don't keep the lady waiting, but
they H pay you at the office." And, be
fore he had time to accept the situation, I
had put Miss P into the buggy and
was driving away.
It is not exciting to drive in Nantucket
unless over the trottiDg course. The roads
are a tiifle sandy and are deeply ratted, so
that your horsd travels in a groove, and
your wheels do the same. Dexter himself
could hardly run away, and you are as fast
tied to the track as if in a city street-car.
J3ut once out on the broad, breezy
downs, and it is very enjoyable. The air
is fragrant with the warm and aromatic
smell of the bayberry-bushes and the
balsamic breath of the pine trees, the
UUest of which tower full seven feet in
air. Behind is the clean quiet town, and
before arlark blue line on which here and
there glitters the sunshine, while a white
flash of surf springs np ever and anon
above the low sand-drifts on which grow
the sparse tufts of beach-grass.
iSobody can long teel blue on those
plains of Nantucket ; beside that, I had a
project which wa to put me all right
bo 1 chatted with Miss Minnie, and
never had enjoyed myself so much. It
might have been fancy, but I thought she
was a little distrait. Could .it be that I
had made an impression? If so all will
be well, thought I ; and then I wished the
Shore thirty miles off, instead of three.
As it was. we reached the end of our
drive before I felt quite certain enough to
commit myself. It would bs awkward to
be reiused and have to drive her home
A solitary stroll on the beach might
but it was not solitary. There was some
one there. A man, a wretch with a long
handled white umbrella, like a huge mush
room, stuck up in the sand, and under it he
was sitting, sketching.
A little way iroin wnere my horse
was to be tisd was his horse and bug
gy, somehow, ne seemea to expect
Miss P , for he rose up and came to
meet her as soon as I had helped her to
alight; and before I could secure my
teed Miss P and the stranger seemed
to have got wondroubiy well acquainted.
did not remember to have seen him on
the island, and he certainly did not come
in the boat while I was there, for the event
of the day was to see the passengers land ;
and beside that where would he go but to
the Ocean House?
Miss Minnie introduced me to her fnend
as I came up to them. It was Mr. C ,
the artist He teat handsome, there was
no denying that, with bis broad wideawake
and velvet coat and silky mustache ; but
I should have much preferred to see hU
beauty in the distance, say picturesquely
half a mile off; but he was so pleasant
and gentlemanly, that I couldn't quarrel
Presently Miss P begged him to go
on with his work ; and then she said, as
she looked over his shoulder, that he
ought to put in a figure or two ; and how
it came about I don't know, but I found
myself standing at the edge of the surf
(in imminent peril of wet feet) and pre
tending to throw a bluefish-line into the
breakers. . . . .
It was hardly a consolation to think of
being part of a famouajicture, when that
required one to stand with one's back to
all that was of immediate interest. Bat it
was much worse to be' roused by a shoot
from the wretch, and to see my own horse
walking leisurely away toward the .townJ-
I know I fastened him securely.
I harried up the beach, and the ruffian
met me with a look of pretended sympa
thy on his features.
"This is too bad," he said. "I am afraid
you will have to leave Miss P to my
care. I will stay with her while you bring
your horse back!. If you shouldn't over
take him," added the ogre, " I will see that
she gets home : but really I cant leave
just yet I have got such a splendid chance
wmch 1 have been waiting lor all summer:
such a surf and such a light on it 1"
it did not occur to me then, though it
did afterward, that the miscreant might
have ottered me his team, instead ot that
he hurried me off, bidding me run, which
I did. So did my horse, just quickening
his pace till he got far enough away to
graze, and then starting on as I got near
him. I had to foot it the whole way to
town. The beast went safely enough till
he reached tbe stable ; but there he pushed
right into it and, catching .the buggy
against the lintel, smashed the top com
pletely. Twenty dollars would not make
good the damage, the stable folks said. I
told them to send up to the hotel at half
past nine and get their pay, after the loss
had been properly estimated.
une thing seemed a little odd. 1 had
unbuckled tbe check rein to use as a hitch-ing-strap.
It was found buckled all right,
but not checked, which makes me think t hat
the horse had learned to unharne38 him
self. They are knowing animals, the
Then I went to the clerk of the hotel.
I told him 1 thought I would give a pub
lic reading that evening. Could I have
the use of the dining-roora. I would put
the tickets at tweuty-fivi1 bents, and at
that rate would probably secure an aadi
ancu. I had heard that one of the Har
vard fellows had done the same thing in
one of the rural districts, and netted one
hundred dollars. Tbe clerk said the di
ning-room could not be well spared and
would not hold enough, but the Athense
um Hall was the place where such things
usually were given. Would he engage it
forme? He would send and get it right
away, and would send the town-crier to
announce the reading, as there was no
time to print bills, and that was the usual
Then I went to my room to prepare a
programme. It did not seem ten minutes
before I heard the voice of the herald pro-4
claiming in vocal small caps that there
will be a Dra nwie iteading this evening
at Ath-e rsj urn HalL Doors open at seven.
i' lormance V c mence t eight o clock.
'Omittance twenty-five cents." Then the
ding-dong of his bell died away up one
street and was heard coming down the
next It was evident the town won'd bs
thoroughly canvassed. Could I read?
Well, i had tiled it in private circles.
MMtavi non tine gloria, and at the public
Latin School where I gTadaated had won
the Hancock medal The first thing
was to get books. I asked the clerk, but
he was a book-keeper, not a book-lender.
However, he thought 1 might obtain the
loan at the Athenrcum, on depositing their
valuation. As I only wanted them to go
from the library-room to the hall up-stairs
I ventured on this, depositing with a bold
front but beating heart my twenty dollar
Dili, and receiving a Shakespeare, a .Byron,
and three volumes of Mrs. Browning.'
Also a copy of Handy Andy.- This last,
being doubtful of my skill in rendering the
Irish tongue, I took to myroom, unluck
ily. The others I thought I could man
age at sight especially as I meant to keep
to the pieces I knuw by heart, and wanted
the books more for form than for use. By
this time the tea-gong sounded, and I went
to the table with an anxious breast and a
sense of being the observed of all observ
ers. Miss I was already there, but in
my seat was the fend, I mean the artist
in human shape. I expected to see Miss
Minnie look embarrassed, but she only
locked radiantly happy, and smiled sweet
ly upon me as I passed by to take my
place at the foot of the table.
I could not eat: in fact I had a doubt
whether it would be well to attempt it
before a public reading : so after bearing in
silent torture the spectacle of the vampire
helping Mips f to blue-nsh and black
berries, I retired to dress. That operation
was limited to the putting on of a cloth
coat in place of a tweed, my last clean
collar, and taking my last ditto handker
chief, and at seven I started for the haiL
The streets were not inconveniently
thronged, but " it is early yet" I said.
menta'iy. I had left Handy Andy in my
room, not feeling quite up to the comic,
but in a mood to which I was sure Othello
would come in great force. I found the
town-crier, who was also to be the money-
taker and stage manager, at the door, but
no one else. He suggested that as it was
still daylight it wasn't worth while to
light np yet to which I agreed, and re
tired to the dressing-room with my vol
umes, solitary candle and a glass of
water. I shut the door, so as not. to be
disturbed by the noise of the assembling
throngs, and gave myself up to study. I
had heroically determined not to look at
my watch lest I should get nervous, and
when eight o'clock struck from the South
Church tower, I confess I started with
surprise. Seizing my books and giving
myself no time for stage fright I walked
dignifiedly on to the platform, found my
first place, and raised my eyes to survey
my audience. There were two people in
the hall, ghoul and his victim, I mean
the artist and Miss P . Tbe crier, that
is, the ticket-tiker, stood by the entrance,
his hands in his pockets. My audience
preserved a respectful silence, though
there was a queer look on the face of the
female portion, while the monster, I mean
the male part, made a motion of the hands
suggestive of applause. 1 sank back into
a seat The crier walked up the hall, put
ting out the lights as he went and saying
in a voice startiingly loud in the stillness :
"'Sno use waiting any locger t 'night
and the sooner I shet np theJess gat will
be wasted. I'll lest hand them folks their
money back and you can settle with me."
Then, as the company dispersed, one of
whom, by the way, declined to receivehis
quarters, caving toito voce, "I've had a de
lightful entertainment, and real y I feel
conscientious scruf les at taking anything
bark." The crier proceeded to fun up,
"The haiL well, we can't charge more'n
half-prire under the circa: T-'.ancts
the hftll'll be . ten ; 1'ghts, well, ray
two 'n ha'X My cryin' two V
half, ought to be five; 's list
as much work s if the whole
island come, fita'din at the door" (he
could not say taking tickets), "dollars;
sixteen dollars jest Then, .there's fab
books. Miss Coffin said I w is to see 'em.
returned, here they be, no, there was .six. L
1 u l a n .. ' 1
I remembered that I had left Bandy
Andy at my room, and as that would give
me a little mora delay, I asked him to call
at the hotel for the other volume, and
strode away. I was tempted to turn to
ward the wharf and to keeo straight on
from the end of the pier, but for the eight
oi a couple slowly waiting up the street
One was my solitary female au spectator,
and the other a demon in a velvet coat and
When I reached mv room ink the
volume was gone, and must be paid for if
not recovered ; it was one of a set but that
was a trifle compared with the fact that
my bill, my counterfeit, was a deposit
My friend the crier was good-natured,
however, and agreed to call in the morn
ing. Moreover, it served me as an excuse
for not settling that night that I must re
turn the book or know what it would cost
me. Besides, he was secure that I could
no more leave this island than Robinson
Crusoe could leave his.
I sat down on the hotel balcony, in utter
pair. From the parlor came a murmur
conversation, and I fancied
that the tones were those of a woman and
a serpent that is, a painter, but I cared
not What was I to do? My bill at the
hotel ; my afternoon's bad luck, twenty
three dollars; my evening's failure, say
twenty more ; my fare to Boston, where I
must be by the next evening. It may seem
a light matter, but to an inexperienced lad
of nineteen it was no joke.
While I sat there, absorbed in my trou
ble, a hand was laid upon my shoulder
which made me look np. It was Fred.
P . "See here, my boy, I've been
looking for you all the evening. Here's
Minnie says she must go to-morrow,
and I don't like to trouble you,
but she wants enough for her fare
to Boston, and I've lost my wallet to-day,
I believe ; I can't find it anywhere. Let
me have that twenty I paid for the boat
last week. I did not mean to ask yon for
it as I supposed it might not be conveni
ent till yon got home, but I can't help
myself." Here was a new complication.
We had gone on a fishing party together,
and Fred had paid the bill; but I had
undertaken to get the other fellows'
Bhares, and had done so. I had handed it
all to Fred's room-mate and college chum,
who had since left the island. It was evi
dent that Cunningham had forgotten to
pay Fred. They were of course intimate
friends, and I was comparatively a stranger.
who bad been kindly taken up by them.
I felt awfully, for 1 hardly knew how to
make the truth appear. Suppose Cun
ningham, a rich and careless young fellow,
had' forgotten all about it Fred was out
of sorts too over something, for he was
usually very even-tempered. When I
said, "I must have paid it" I could not
for the moment remember that I had done
so. He said roughly, "O bother, no; I
could not have had the money ; besides,
Cunningham would have told me, and he
never said a word, only that I'd better get
it betore you spent all your money.
"Mr. P ," said I, "I will go up to
your room and arrange with you ; we will
not dispute here on the steps.'
Fred led the wav. muttering something
about " snobs picked up at water-places,
which made me furious. When we got to
his chamber I was so angry that I forgot
all about my bill deposited at the library.
and pulled out my porte monnait; and by
the time he got the gas lit 1 was opening
it and feeling In the secret pocket There
was the bill, twenty dollars, and I slapped
it down on the table, saying, "As lata to
pay this twice over, I'll trouble you to
leave a receipt at the office forme to
morrow morning. I don't wish to pay the
third timet And then I went off to my
room raging. When i cooled on a lull
it came to me that I had passed off a bad
bill on Fred P , but to that I answered
my conscience that it was for an unjost
claim. At any rate I was quite ready to
go to jail or anywhere else, and went to
sleep thinking of an odd story I had heard,
in consequence of which I dreamed that I
was sent to the Nantucket prison for pass
ing counterfeit money, and that every
night I was in the habit of slipping oat of
my cell and prowling rouna tne streets.
Then I was giving a reading to a crowded
house, but the books were all wrong.
Whatever I took up turned to a dictionary
or a spelling-book. Then I woke up and
thought over two plans, one of which was
to go off to sea in a whaler from New Bed
ford, the other was to get Fred to have
me arrested for passing the counterfeit bill
on him and sent to lioston lor trial, unce
there, I could get some one to help me.
In the midst of working out these plans to
a grand and triumphant tableau I got to
sleep again, and this time dreamed that I
was being marched up State street in
chains, and that I was stopped at each cor
ner and rearrcstedon a new charge, when
I was really awakened by a strange man
in my room, who was shaking me by the
shoulder. My first thought was, "It has
come now, and I'm glad of it" It was the
watchmaker. "I've come round to see
thee," he began, "to look at thy watch
once more. I've thought thee might be
wanting money a good deal, and I don't
mind letting thee have twenty dollars, if
thee thinks thee can pay me in a wees: or
so. I guess theVs pretty honest as folks
I was just - putting the watch into his
hands, when the door opened again, and
in came Apollyon, I mean the artist
"My dear young friend," he began,
"what is all this about a broken buggy?
I've just seen the stable fellow hanging
round here, and of course you are not to
pay a sixpence fof the team or for the dam
age. I am afraid I was a little careless in
letting your horse get away in fact,
I well I wanted it was of the ut
most importance for me to have an un
interrupted talk with Miss with Miss
P . Two years ago we were engaged.
It was broken off by a most unlucky
chance, and I have never had it in my
power to eifoliin matters till yesterday.
Sothe stable bill, which I shall cut down
considerably, Is my business. For the
other matter, I owe yon an apology.which
I tender now."
I was too bewildered to answer at once,
but the artist noticing W Quaker friend
for the Srst time, drew himself up with
mock solemn ty, and added, " If you de
mand further satisfaction, there will be
coffee for two down stairs in about ten
minutes, and a friend of mine will be glad
to see you." And out he went
I had lust exchanged my watch for the
good Quaker's bill, and he had departed,
wnen r reu nouncea in, musiuug up j nut
" I say, old fellow " was his greeting, -i
behaved abominably last night This
morning I found my money, you know ;
left it in my pantaloons pocket when I
changed to go sharking. There was more
than I cared to lose; and then I was
awfully mad about Minnie, seeing that
artist fulow with her; but he came up to
my room last night and it is all right
tell von some dav. And I found a letter
on my table from Cunningham, which I
ought to have had three aays ago, iciuug
me about that boat money; you did pay
twice, and here it is back, the bill you
gave me. And I beg your pardon, heaps.
I don't know what I naid as we shook
hands, but I certainly felt on good terms
with all creation, and ail the more as Fred
added, "Here's a book, by the way, i
found in your room when I went to iook
for you where were you, by the way, all
the evening ? and took up to my room to
read. I luckily saw it this morning, and
suppose you'd like to carry it back to the
A'henanm." Tnen 1 rememrjereu mj
hill which I had deposited, and rather as
tonishei Fred by tearing out of bed anu
flinging on my clothes, and starting uown
the. street on the run. -
I must have started the amiable
librarian by my breathless and some
what dishevelled appearance ; but like
true Namucket woman, she was perfectly
self possessed and polite, and accepted my
contused statement witn tntire composure,
put Handy Andy on its shelf, and handed
me my twenty in tbe envelop in which
she had placed it expressing a kind wish
to meet me again another sumtntr.
It is a religious belief with the island
er-", that whosoever v sits Nantucket once
will surely return again, and I must say it
is a wed founded beiief. There is a tpell
in that ba my air, like that of tbe-sweet
waters of the fountain of Trevi at Rome,
to lure back the traveler, -and whosoever
eats of the chowder cf Siasconset will
Ion? to eat it again.
When I got back to the hotel the clerk
met me. '"The crier's been alter you,"
said he ; " coare to say that the Athenteum
won't charge anything for room and lights,
as there was no exhibition ; and I told him
that he mu'tn't charge but a dollar for his
work ; so if you'll leave it with me, he 11
I think I enjoyed my last breakfast at
the Ocean Houte even more than any pre
vious one, am that is saying a good deal.
I had time, too, "to stop and leieem my
wa'ch, with thanks to the good watch
maker, on my way to the boat The bill
I got back from Fred was unquestioned
it was one of our Boston bank notes, and
certainly came out of my pocket-book,
however it got there. The counterfeit
was safe in the envelope, just asl received
As I stepped aboard the steamer I saw
Mi-s Minnie and at her side Molock, that
is, Mr. C , who lost no time ta making
the amende. "I leave Miss P ," he
said, " in your care. I did think of going
across with her, but a stern sense of Jus
lice, which is tbe prevailing trait of my
character, compels me to leave the nela
wholly to yoa. I owe yoa a tete-a-tete in
place of that which I stole yesterday."
" Don t believe one word he says," was
Minnie's. I mean Miss P 's retort; "he
is dying to be off to Sancoty Head sketch
ing, and only came down to see me off,
because I made him come and apologize
to you for his tnck.
" She put me up to it," the victim be
gan, when the last bell sounded, and he
was obliged to hurry ashore in the midst
or his audacious no. and 1 was lelt to en
joy one of the pleasantest journeys 1 ever
Of course Miss P asked me what put
it into my head to give a reading, and I
told her the whole story, and got sym
pathy enough and fan enough out of it to
pay me twice over. When it was all
finished she said, " One thing I don't un
derstand, how you had two twenties, when
you only thought yoa had one."
l am sure i don t eitner. it is clear
that the one I gave Fred last night was
the same I laid away for reserve fund ;
where the other came from I cannot
" Ltt me look at it" said she, and I took
it out of the envelope and gave it to her.
She turned it over once or twice, and
presently showed me a mark on one
corner. " This is a lesson to me not to be
so careless again. I might have injuried
you very seriously for life." she said. "Do
you remember the day it rained, and you
went over to the shell-shop to get me the
basket I bought there ; you paid two dol
lars for it and I handed you the money
when you returned. I remember think
ing how polite it was of you that yoa took
the bill without even looking at it, and
put it in your porle mnnnaxe at once. 1 his
isthebilL I just noticed tbe 'two,' and
not the cipher. I got it at Benton's in
Washington Street the day before I left;
was told it was bad at Hovey's, and then
I marked it so as not to pass it away,
meaning to ask father to return it I for
got all about it and having only fives in
my purse, except this, gave it for a two."
The reader can skip the sequel if desir
ous to do so. I think it wort h telling. I
was kindly asked by Miss P to call
npon her while she remained Miss P ,
and on her returm from her summer trav
els was reminded of my promise by a note
specifying the evening. Somebody was
there with a velvet coat and a mustache
that was finer than ever; but really, as
Miss Ellen P , younger sister to Miss
Minnie, was so good as to entertain me,
I did not find the artist in the way. As
we walked down Park Street together at
the close of the evening he asked me to
come to his studio the next day at twelve.
I managed to get off from the store ; it
was a dull time, and I did so. I met some
ladies" at the studio, Mrs. P , Miss
P , and Miss Ellen. They had come
to see a picture which was upon the easel,
just finished. It was a view ot the South
Shore at Nantucket There was one fig
ure in it a young man in a graceful atti
tude gazing upon the surf. I think the
figure was a little flattered, though Miss
P said not; but she saw things
through a very rosy atmosphere that day.
What struck me most was, that a note ad
dressed to me lay on top of the frame, and
this I was desired by the ladies to read
aloud. It was as follows :
"Mr. Woodbridge will confer a real favor upon
the artist by accepting this little memento of no
of the happb-st days in the life of the donors,
which Is oiTered as a slight reparation f"r tbe In
conveniences brought noon Mr. Woodbndce by
sitting for his portrait, n'itb the best wishes of
bis friends, J- C ,
"Minim P .-
"I never hai the pleasure of hearing
Mr. Woodbndge read aloud before," said
Miss P , very demurely. " I have un
derstood that he is quite an amateur."
I have heard the picture highly praised
by competent judges. I hope to see it
hanging on mv parlor wall some day, and
I may add that my chances of having
parlor and or calling Mrs. t.; , nee
P , sister-in-law, have considerably in
creased since I became a junior partner in
the house of P Brothers & Co., Bos
ton, Mass. Atlantic Monthly.
The Fly on the Ceiling.
How the fly supports itself in opposition
to the laws of gravitation is one of the
first questions that the juvenile philoso
pher undertakes to solve. As his small
stock of science is not sufficient to enable
him to master the mystery, he consults a
book or questions a friend. From one or
the other of these he learns that the insect
supports itself by means of tubular-shaped
vessels which enable it to exhaust the air
from beneath its feet when they are press
ed against a surface. Tnis being done the
upward pressure of the atmosphere holds
the insect in lis place, me simple mue
piece of apparatus known as the "sucker,"
is designed to illustrate how a fly supports
itself from a ceiling.
Recent investigation, however, seem to
clearly show that a viscid fluid and not an
atmosphere pressure is the means whereby
a fly can walk on a ceiling. The follow
ing would seem to be convincing proofs of
this thf orv : An insect was chloroformed
to prevent its relinquishing its hold, and
being in a receiver the air was exhausted
but it still kept its place. Every foot-st e
leaves a mark, on the sunace oi a ciean
piece of glass that can be distinguished
with a microscope. The existence and
secretions of this fluid being thus clearly
proven, it is plain that it would interfere
with any attempt at suction ; and it seems
certain that exhaustion of air and the
secretion of this flaid could not go on at
one atd the same time, through one set of
vessels. This fluid is very tenacious, and
nearly insoluble. In all probability it is
the material that so often holds flies and
other insects so securely to the place
where they spent the night that they can
not in the morning leave the spot without
living a portion of their limbs behind.
Thirty bushels of pears were gathered
from one tree near Ashland, Ky. ,
DON'T LET MOTHER DO IT.
BY CARRIE ALTON.
Dacohtok, dont let mother do ltf
Do not let her slave and toil
While yoa sit, s nseless idler.
Fearing yoor soft hands to sod.
Don't yoa iee the heavy burthens
Daily she is wont to hear
Bring tbe lines upon her forehead
Sprinkle silver in her hair!
Daughter, don't let mother do It I
Do not let her bake and broil
Through the long, bright summer hoars.
Share with her the heavy toil ;
See, her eye has lost its brightness,
faded from her cheek the glow,
And tbe step that once was buoyant
Kow is feeble, weak and slow.
Daughters, dont let mother do ltt
She has cared for yoa so long.
Is it right the weak and feeble
Should be toiling for the etrong?
Waken from jonrliatleM languor.
Seek ber side to cheer and bless; "
And yonr grief will be less bitter
When the sods above her pre-a.
Daughters, dont let mother do ft t
Too wi'l never, never know
What were home without a mother.
Till that mother lieth low
Low beneath the budding daises.
Free from earthly care or pain
To tbe home, so sad without her,
Never to return .gain.
Jiurat New Yorker,
LESSON OF THE BRIARS.
" Charley ! Charley I" called Ella to her
younger brother; "don't go near those
briars: come over here in the garden!"
" Ho ! stay in the garden! who wants to
stay in the garden," answered master
Charley with great contempt "I guess
you iqiiik i in a gin to want to play wnere
it's all smooth and everything. Ho !"
" That's not it Charley, but you know
we both have on our good clothes, and we
must be ready to run quick when we hear
the carriage drive up to the gate with
Aunt jaay ana cousin Harry and Alice."
" I know that as well as von do." said
Charley, pushing his way through the
hedge as he spoke. " Girls aint good for
anything but to sit and sew. I mean to
have some fun. I mean to cl
Ella felt like giving some angry answer,
bat she checked herself and went on with
her sewing as she sat under the big tree.
wondering what made Charley break off
nis sentence so suddenly.
"El-la, El-la!" cried a pitiful voice at
last come help me! I m getting all torn.
Sore enough, Charley teat getting all
torn ; some big thorns had caught his new
trousers and the harder he struggled the
worse matters became.
. " Hold still, dear," said Mary, "I can't
neip you while you kick so. There ! now
you re tree. Uh! tiharieyl"
Charley, clapping his hand to his trou
sers, knew well enough what this " Oh !'
meant It meant a great big tear in his
new clothes, two cousins coming to spend
the day, and a poor little boy sobbing in
the nursery until the nurse would stop
scolding and make him fit to go down and
see the company. The very thought of all
mis misery maae nun cry.
" Oh ! they'll be here in a minute ! boo-
hoo !" he sobbed ; " what thna I do V
"Why, stand still, that's all," said Ella,
hastily threading her needle with a long
black thread: " standi ust so. dear, till I
mend it. '
" Mend it ! cried master Charles, de
lighted. "O.Ella! WYtfyou?"
" uertainly 1 will, she answered, very
genuy, at tne same tune beginning to draw
the edges of the tear together ; "you know
girls are not good for anything else but to
sit ana sew.
" O, Ella! I didn't say that" '
"I think you did, Charley."
" Not exactly that, I guess. It was awful
mean, if I did. Oh! hurry; I hear the
"Do be quiet you little wriggler r
laughed his sister, hastily finishing the
work as well as she could, so that Charley
in a moment looked quite fine again.
" There ! we'll get to the gate before they
turn into the lane, after all."
Charley held Ella s hand more tightly
than usual as they ran toward the gate
together. Ella noticed it, and stopped to
" I'm sorry I spoke so, he panted, kiss
ing her again right heartily. "Does it
"Not a bit; you wouldn't know anv-
ming naa nappenea. ilurrani here they
"Hurrah! Howdy dof screamed
Charley. Hearth and Home.
Savings for 01 Age.
No one denies that it is wise to make
provision for old age, but we are not all
agreed as to the kind of provision it is best
to lay in. Lertainly we shall want a little
money, for a destitute old man is indeed a
sorry sight : yes, save money by all means.
Uut an old man needs lust that particular
kind of strength which young men are apt
to waste. Many a foolish young fellow
will throw away on a holiday a certain
amount of nervous energy which he will
never feel the want of until he is seventy,
and then how much he will want it ! It
is curious, but true, that a bottle of cham
pagne at twenty will intensity the rheu
matism at threescore.
It is a fact that over-tasking the eyes at
fourteen may necessitate the aid of spec
tacles afa forty instead of sixty. We ad
vise our young readers to be saving of
health lor their oia age, lor tne maxim
holds good in regard to health as well as
to money. " Waste not want nr t" It is
the greatest mistake to suppose tbat viola
tion of the laws of health can escape its
penalty. Nature forgives no sin, no error;
she lets off the offender for fifty years
sometimes, but she catches him at last, and
inflicts the punishment just when and
where, and just how he feels it most Save
up for old age, but save knowledge ; save
the recollections of good and noble deeds
innocent pleasure and pure thoughts : save
friends, save love. Save rich stores of that
kind of wealth which time cannot dimm
ish nor death take away. Rural Hew
Suited to a T.
"How did your wristbands suit you,
Frank V said Fannie drey to her brother
Frank, a young man just home in nis nrst
college vacation. " I stitched tbem every
bit myself, on the machine. Were they
nice? Did they fit?"
" They were splendid. Fan. I told the
fellows they were done by an old lady of
seven years, nti l guess tney mo. t a
toaT. Thank you!"
And Frank Gordon pulled his coat
sleeve up a little and showed the shining
linen, fitting his shapely wrist, much to
his little sister's admiration.
" Frank." said Fannie, a few moments
after, " may I ask you something?"
" Ui course you may, little one ; I ll an
swer if I can." And Frank clasped his
hands over his head, tilted back his chair,
and put his fet upon the table, and looked
down into his sister's eyes that were say
ing just then, " as if there was anything
you didn't know, yoa splendid old fel
But aloud she said, " What do yon mean
by fitted toaT t I'm sure don't know;
and I want to."
"Whew!" whistled the young man."
What do I mean, sure enough ! WelL I
mean suited exactly, fitted perfectly, I sup
pose." les," said the mue gin in a disap
pointed tone ; " I know that ; but I
thought perhaps, it came from something.
don't see the sense of it I'm sure. 'Suit
ed to a T.' It meant something else in
the first place, I know."
H mJ? elt ! gne8 u did Pe." Frank.
M,k h P for 70U sometime."
"Hell never think of it again," said
Fanny to herself, " but I do wish I knew,
Suited toaT.' It is so funny."
The next day Frank came In with a
strange sort of ruler in his hand. It had
a cross piece at one end Which gave it the
shape of a capital T.
" S3e here, Fanny," said he, " Tve been
to the carpenter's shop in your behalf. I
hope I'll get yon suited to T ' this time.
I failed to satisfy you, yesterday, you
So Frank placed the cross piece against
a perpendicular line which he had drawn,
and laid the arm along a horizontal line
that formed the right angle.
" Yon see," said he, " this ruler is called
a T fquare, and is often used to test the
accuracy of lines and angles, as I have
just tested mine. For a wonder it fits
exactly. I never did hit it so well before.
And so you see it is fitted or ' suited to a
T.' And it is altogether probable that the
proverbial phrase 'suited to a T, origi
nated in this instrument"
"O.Frank! how much you do know I
I'm so glad I asked yon ! I can see the)
sense of it now," said little Fan, hugging
him tight to the great damage of his flow
Frank looked as wise as an owl, but ho
didn't " let on " that he couldn't have told,
to save him, till he asked somebody else.
That's how J found out what is meant by
"suited to a T." Toung People' $ Helper.
The Oldest Man.
In 1314. when Pittsburgh was but a vil
lage, an old man named Jacob Fournais,
then aged about seventy years, came there
trom Canada, ana alter a brier sojourn
proceeded to New Orleans m a keel-boat
That old man died a few weeks ago in
Kansas City, at the age of one hundred
and thirty-four years. Fournais waa
probably the oldest man living. He was
a Canadian Frenchman by birth, but for
more than half a century was a hunter
and a trapper in the employ of the fur
company, one of the French toyageurs, as
they are called.
lie was never sick, and only a few
minutes before he died was walking about
the room. He said to the family in the
morning that he would "never see the sun
go down again," and just before sunset the
machine stopped and the old man was
His age was entered on the census roll
last year as one hundred and thirty four
years, which is as near as from the beat
evidence it could be affixed.
His recollection of important events was
very good, ari, as he was an illiterate man,
his memory held to isolated occurrences,
not of history, as obtained from reading
books. This, while it made his informa
tion fragmentary and unsatisfactory as to '
the history of that early period of his life,
yet afforded the best evidence as to his
He said he was working in the woods
on a piece of laud he had bought for him
self, near Quebec, when Woh'e was killed '
on the Heights of Abraham. This was
September 14, 1759, and from what he told
of his life previous to that, must then have
been over twenty-one years of aw. Think
ing he might have confounded Wolfe with
Montgomery 1775 he was questioned
fully, but his recollection of names and
incidents was too distinct to leave any
doubt and the same account had been
given to others long before.
Another event which he remembered
well, and which he seemed always to look
upon as a good joke, was that during the
occupation of New Orleans by General
Jackson 1814-15 he had been refused
enlistment " because he was too old." The
old man often told this with great glee.
He must then have been about eighty
He accompanied the expedition cf Lewis
and Clark in their explorations of the Mis
souri and the discovery of the Columbia
River it 180-7. His experience during
the trip making him a valuable man to the
fur company, he was afterwards employed,
as we have stated, until thirty, years ago.
For the past seven or eight years the bid
man's recollections of faces were often at
fault but his mencO"y of events and inci
dents seemed as string as ever like pic
tures in his mind and this retention of
occurrences was the great help in deter
mining his age.
The last thirty years of his life were
passed in quiet and comfort. He preferred
living by himself, and always had his own
bouse,where he kept his pipe and tobacco
pouch, and such things as were articles of
comfort to him, mostly such as he had
trom his residence witn the Indians not
forgetting his rosary and a few religious
pictures which hung above his bed. He
was very neat in his person, clothes, and
housekeeping, and up to the day of his
death attended, in summer, to nis tcDacco-
Slants and his cabbages. One of his great
esires was to see a railroad, and when the
first locomotive came screaming into the
bottom near Kansas City, which was in
full view of his house, he was nervous as
a child until he visited it He then ex
pressed himself satisfied, saying he "could
tell God he had seen a railroad," and never
after expressed any cariosity on the sub
Truly, Kansas uny could, ooast oi Hav
ing the " champion old man."
Burns and Scalds.
Dr. Ferguson gives the fallowing recipe.
which he has tested in the severest cases of
burning and scalding from railroad and
steamboat accidents with invariable suc
cess: Olycenne, nve ounces; wruteoi egg.
four ounces; tincture of arnica, three
ounces. Mix the glycerine ana wnue oi
egg thoroughly m a inortar, and gradually
add the arnica. Apply freely on rags,
night and morning, washing previously
with warm castile soap suds.
The celebrated English surgeon, air.
Skey, recommends the application of a so
lution of nitrate of silver in a proportion
ate strength, varying from five to twelve
or more grains to the ounce, according to
the extent and severity of the burn and the
age of the patient The wuole surface of
the burn should be brushed over with the
solution, cotton-wood applied, and a mod
erate opiate administered in a glass of
brandy and water, proportioned to the age
and habits of the patients, with the object
of counteracting the sense of chilliness
that will otherwise necessarily follow in
all these cases.
Smith met Brown the other day.
Smith is Brown's new neighbor. And
Smith said: "Mr. Brown this is your
wife's birthday, I understand ; won't you
allow me to make her a little present?"
"Certainly, Mr. 6mith," said Brown;
"yoa are very kind, but this is quite
unexpected ; you are quite a stranger, yoa
know." "Never mind," said Smith;
that's no reason why we should not be
on friendly terms." And so they went
into a convenient jeweler's, and Smith
bought very handsome locket for $50,
which he presented to Brown to be pre
sented to his wile, witn tne congratula
tions of neighbor Smith. When the locket
came to be paid for the generous but ab
sent-minded Smith had forgotten hid
check-book, but Brown was flush, and ac
commodated him. TheT parted a few
blocks from the store, to which Smith re
turned, and waa paid a commission of five
dollars on the sale of the locket He still
owes Brown the principal. Mrs. Smith's
birthday is next week, urown is loo King
for Smith to give him something to take
home to hia wife.
It is stated that the damage inflicted by
the craiishonnpra in Maine tnis vear. must
be measured by mil ions of dollars. An
exchang? says : " In some places, both on
the AnurodC ggin ar a AenncDec, tne
farmers are turning their starving cattle
mto their grain fields to pick up what their
arch enemy has left There are many
square miles of territory where net a
bushel of gain will be raised, though be
fore the descent of the destroyer mere
was unusual promise of a crop. Hun
dreds of farmers who, two weeks ago,
were expecting at least a good crop of
corn, will harJly get an ear.
There are in Germany at the prewnt
time 8,933 bookstores, S63 purmsbing
houses, and 243 commission booksellers
101 in Leipsic, 47 in Berlin, S3 in Vienna,
18inStuttgait 11 in Prague, 8 in Mu-,
nich, and 1 in Augsburg.
There are now E0.C43 postcCces in
the United State.