Newspaper Page Text
TT say this life In barren, drear and ooldl
Tver the same ("nil song was sung of old,
Kwr the same long wenry tide Is tnld.
And to our Hp" Is held the eup of strifo.
Andsi Utile love can sweeten llfo.
Thr say anta may pwp ml Joys de
stroyed. Tout hu but dreams, ana age an aching
Whom lea1-8ea fruit long, long ago has
Whose night with wild tempestuous storms Is
And ret a little hope ctm brighten life.
They any we fling ourselves In wild despair
Amidst the broken treasures scattered there.
Whore all Is wrecked, whore all once promised
fair; . .
And stab ourselves with sorrow two-edged
And yot a little patience strengthens life.
Is It then true, this tale of bitter grief.
Of norta! angillh finding no relief ?
Lol midst the winter shines the laurel's leaf;
Three angt-Is share the lot of human strlfo,
Three angels glorify the path of llfo.
Love. Hope and Patience cheor us on our
Love, Hope and Patience form our spirit s
Lore, Hope and Patience watch us day by
And hid the desert bloom with beauty vernal,
Until the earthly fades In tho eternal.
THE MINISTER'S OLD COAT.
"Ministers' sons are very npt to turn
out badly," said I, to the gentleman
who ant next to me in the car. Wo had
met in the train, bound for Chicago,
and had struck up an acquaintance.
He stopped me with his hand on my
arm and with an earnest look which I
shall never forget.
I paused at once in what I was say
ing, and it seemed for a moment al
most as if the rushing train had
stopped to listen, too.
Let me tell yon a story," ho said.
" I know it is a common belief that
ministers' sons are wild, but that is be
cause people talk about the bad ones.
while those who turn out, wen are
taken as a matter of course I
gathered statistics about them, once,
and found that out of a thousand sons
of ministers, there were very few who
did not grow up useful and industrious
' But what is your story?" I asked,
settling back in my scat.
"Well," said ho, "it begins with a
class-supper in Boston, a dozen years
ago. A number of old college friends
bad gathered in tho evening for their
annual reunion. Among them was the
rich merchant, J. E. Williston per
haps you have heard of him and a
poor pastor of a country church in
Klmbank village, out in Western Mas
sachusetts, whose name was Blake. A
good many of the class had died, and
the dozen or so oldorly men who were
left felt more tender than ever toward
each other, as they thought of the
bright old days at Harvard, and how
soon no one would be left on earth who
shared in that happy time.
"The dishes came and went, the
lights glowed brilliantly, and at last the
fnends grew quite gay. But the ten
dor feeling I have spoken of would
coma uppermost, now and then; and in
one of these musing moments Willis
ton's eye was attracted by something
glistening about the coat which his
friend Blake, who sat next o him, had
" He looked closer, and saw that the
black cloth of which tho oout was made
had been worn so thin and smooth that
it was very shiny.
Well, Blake,' said he, suddenly.
taking hold of his friend's arm cordially
(which he somehow hadn't thought of
doing before), how has the world gone
witn vou, laieiyr
" Blake had a naturally sad and
thoughtful face; but he looked around
ouicklv. with a warm smile.
" No need to ask,' he said, laugh
ingly. ' You can read the whole story
on my back. This old coat is a sort of
balanoe-sheet, which shows my financial
condition to a T.'
" Then he spoko more seriously, add
ing. Ml Is a protty hard life, Williston,
that of a country parson. I don't com
plain of my lot, though sometimes I'm
distressed lor my family. I lie lact is,
this coat I've trot on is hardly fit for
man of my profession to appear in; hut
1 m going to send my boy aam to Har
vard this year, anil must pinch here and
there to do It. 1 really ought to bo
thankful, though, that I can get such
advantages for him by a few liltlu sacri
fices of personal appearance and cou
" 'Don't you glvo a thought to your
old fellow,' returned illiston.
Nobody who knows you will ever
linairiiie that the heart inside of it is
threadbare, however the garniuut may
"Blake was ploased with this kindly
expression; and both men, after that
exchange of confidence, felt happier.
But. anion? the various Incidents of the
evening, this one almost passed out of
the minister s mind ny me next day,
when be started for felmbauk. i
" Speed v as his return was, however,
something meant for him had got to his
destination before nun. . it was a loiior,
Taking it up, he broke open the en
velope, and found Inside a few words
from Williston, with a check for live
hundred dollars to defray the first year's
college expenses of his old classmate's
" You are a stranger to mo, alr,".sakl
mv traveling-conipaiiion, at thu point:
"but I think you will appreciate the
feeling with which poor Mr. Blake
stood in his bare aud dingy study in tho
old farm parsonage, holding that letter
in his Band, and lifting nis laitniui eyes
in thankfulness to Ood,"
"Yes," I replied. "Willlstoa did
Inst the right thing, too.' And how was
it Did the son snow that he deserved
My acquaintance looked away from
me at the rich country through which
we wwre passing. Then unsaid:
"Bam Hlake was. a good-natured,
obedient fellow enough, aud was great
ly pivMMiu fcu nave vue expense oi ni
On college year taken off his father'
shoulders; but his tense ol duty didn't
go very far. The Kuv. Mr. Blake
bought a new coat, and Sam entered
Harvard that fall; aud there matters
topped for a while.
"A freahnu baa a great deal to
leant, as you know; but I think the
chief thing Sam learned, that term.
was the great difference there is be
tween Harvard aud a little village like
Klmbank, and the gn at dilllcully of
witi"k uu piayiug ai uie same lime,
" Here he bad society meetings to at'
tend, and rooms of bis own. with
onum, where a good deal of smoking
was dim by himself and his friends.
And theu there was base-ball, into
which it appeared Indispensable for
the honor of the class that he should
enter actively, on account of h
strong legs, wonderful wind and gruum
Dauintr ' -
He could not refuse to go to the
theater occasionally with his richer
companions, bum took a natural inter
' eat in the society of young ladies, too,
and had to give up some time to itscul.
tivalion. He also thought a moderate
amount of practice in I he gymnasium
was desirable to prevent his health
from breaking down under the confine
ment of study. So, on the whole, tho
actual work that he did in the college
course was not very extensive,
"This didn't seem to have any bad
effect till well along in the winter, when
the habit of shirking work had grown
so strong, without his noticing it, that
he fell easily into reading novels when
he ought to have been in the recitation
room. Gymnasium, thoater, billiards,
smoking and I am afraid I must say a
little drinking frittered away his time.
"One horribly snowy, sleety morning
when he had got up too late for pray
ers, the postman brought him a note
from the Faculty an 'admonition.'
" He droppod the pipe he was Just
lighting ami bolted oft to recitation.
But he 'dcaded' immediately and that
" Ho soon began to make light of the
wanting and did himself no credit in his
studies. Though he managed to squeeze
through the examination at the end of
the freshman year, he came out far
down toward the foot of his class.
"Ho wasn't quite contented with
himself and thought he would try to do
hotter tho next year. But during the
journey home he recovered his usual
" When he ' walked up the village
towards the parsonage farm, ho was
thinking that since he was a sopho
more now he would buy the knottiest
and biggest-headed cane in Cambridge
when ho should go back there. And
what do you suppose was the first sight
that met liim Bt home?
" It was his father out In the field,
digging for new potatoes, his coat oil',
and his spectacled face perspiring!
."Tho sight struck shamo into the
boy. He vaulted tho fence, and run
ning up with hardly a pause for greet
" ' u, lamer: lei me uo man 1 uon i
liko to see you at such work.
Mr. Blake stooned aud looked earn
estly and rather sadly at him.
" ' Well, Sam, I think that's nbout
as good a " How-do-you-do P" as you
could have offered me. There's some
thing right about you after all.'
" It hadn' t occurred to Sam that there
was any doubt on that point before. He
blushed as he asked
' 'Where's the hired manT
' ' I've discharged him. I can't afford
one at present, my son,' was the an
Sam was rather puzzled, and began
to re Hect.
They went into tho house, and
there, when the minister reappeared
after making his toilet, his son noticed
that ho wore tho old shabby, shiny coat.
At this he was more than ever aston
ished. The supnor, also, notwithstanding
that it was the first night of the prodi
gal's return, was very meager. Not a
single extra luxury was on the table.
and aam observed that nis tatner and
mother took no sugar nor butter. His
own appetite began to fail at seeing this,
nnu ma perception wna aiiitifjeueu ac
cordingly. He was now aware that his
father looked Very- thin, as well as sad.
Suddenly he laid down his knife, and
exclaimed to his sister Katy
Sis, whnt does all this mean?
this going without the hired man, and
O JUUI BUI VJiJ I
"His sister looked at him, then
glanced at Mr. Blake and her mother,
and made no answer.
' I thought,' said Sam, petulantly.
'that Willistou'i money was going to
make It easy for you, father; and here
the pinching is going on five times
worse than ever.'
' f don't own mv friend Williston a
money,' said the minister, quietly.
" ' Of course not. But the five htm.
dred dol' , . Sam stopped abruptly
on an entreating gesture jrom nis sis.
"Tho subject was not resumed. But
before he went to bed, Sam obtained
an interview with his sister alone. He
felt, secretly, that he was responsible
for the depression and trouble which
seemed to nil the household, but that
only made him speak More impetu
ously. 'Now, sis,' hu began, 'can I
got two words of sense out ol your'
" ' Not until you ask politely,' she
. " ' Well, thon, please tell me what
the mystery is.'
" ' It oughtn't to bo a mystery to you,
Sam, that you haven't done well at col
ore, rapa is terriuiy disappointed.
" ' I don't seo why he should commit
suicide, if he is,' Sam retorted. . ' I
haven't cost him much this year.'
" 'Oh, yes, you have. Do you know
he actually sold tho new coat?' :
'Whyr bam frowned.
'Because he's been trying every
way to save money since he began to
get reiiorts of how you were wasting
" wnac lorr assou aam, inougn ne
began to suspect.
" Well, he how should I know?
-Don't you see? He's ashamed to
have bad that money nora nis old class
mate, and he's nearly saved enough,
and he's going to pay it all back.
There, I was to keep it secret, and now
ve told your1 Aim nis sister burst
into tears. 'You've nearly broken his
heart, Sam poor Papal'
" 1'he next day Mr. Blake's son went
off directly after breakfast, and was not
seen again till afternoon.
" Coming back, he overtook his fa
ther returning from the post-office.
" 'I know all about It I' he exclaimed,
In his excitement. Katy told me last
night. I wish, though, you'd held on
to the new coat a while,'
Why?' asked Mr. Blake, Imper-
' Hucnuso,' said aam. ' lra going to
pay my owu way now. 1 ve been on
io-dav and hired out for the season to
Fanuur Hodgeburtou. You won t send
that money to Williston, will you, fa
ther?' , , .
, 'You are too late,' was the minis
ter's answer, ' I've just mailed the let
ter to him.'
In fact, next dav the kind mer
chant's eyes were dimmed as he read
these words: . ,
' Pun Wuxurao My hoy It almost
breaks my heart to say at) has not proved
worthy or your generosity. 1 nave doomed to
return the sum which you emit me for him
last year, and you will ttud a draft ettclueed
for that aianuut. . ilLAitx.' "
Here I Interrupted the narrator.
" Doesn't this story prove what I said
at the beglnuing?" I asked. .
"No; for that Isn't the end of It.
Sam went down to Boston in the autumn
with a few dollars of earnings in his
pocket. He had decided to give up
college, ami so applied to Mr. Williston
for a clerkship.
"He told him
" ' I proved myself unworthy, as my
father said. Now give me a cliauce
show mvaclf worthy '
"Williston gave 'him a position, and
he worked there two years. Then
opportunity ottered to go West and
take a partnership in what do you
think? The elolhiug business! Sain
jumped at it; aud you may believe
sent his father, next Christmas, the
finest coat that coucern could produce.
"I am a well-to-do man now, sir,"
continued my acquaintance, suddenly
speaking In the first person, " and when
wo get to Chicago, if you will come to
my establishment, I will show you my
father, the minister's old shiny coat,
which I preserve beoause It was the be
ginning of my fortune, anu made a man
"Then," I exclaimed, taking him by
the hand, " it is yourself you have boon
talking nbout all this time! You are"
" Sam," ooncluded my new friend,
nodding and smiling. (J. P. Lathrop,
in Youths' Companion,
Where Is the Blame!
In our large towns and cities there
are many wives who are saddened with
tho knowledgo that their husbands are
happiest when they can find or manu
facture plausible reason for dining at
a lunch house or a restaurant instead
of at home. Whore lies the blame?
Sometimes, doubtless, with the hus
band; quite as often in the kitchen.
And why? In most instances it is not
from straitened circumstances. The
fioor cannot afford the luxury of choos
ng between tho home table and a pub
lic one, and with the rich these public
resorts should bf no luxury, but only a
necessity when business takes the hus
band so far away as to make it impossi
ble, or at least a great inconvenience,
to lunch at home.
The wife, who alono should be the
mistress of tho home, ought so to man
age her kingdom that all the inmates
of the family will feel not only that
there is no place liko home, but no
table to be found anywhere so tempt
ing as that which is prepared and pre
sided over by the wife and mother.
Even if she has tho most competent
cook she must still bo well assured bo
fore the bell calls all to the dining-room
that her table is spotlessly clean, at
tractively arranged and appetizing in
The proprietor of every restaurant
knows very well that ho must use every
possible effort to make his tables look
attractive, and make sure that every
article of food called for is prepared in
the most acceptable manner. If ono
finds after a fow trials that tho cotl'eo is
floor, or the soup with too little season
ng or as salt as brine; that the meats
are badly cooked and worse carved
mangled rattier; mat tno sieaKS are
tough, or raw, or cold; that the bread
is sour, or streaked and clammy and
this not once or twice, but almost in
variably how long would ho bo in
duced to patronize tliatplace? If wives
trust all the " kitchen work" to hire
lings; if, having provided a well-rooom-mended
cook, tliey feel that their re
sponsibility as far as the meals are con
cerned ceases; if they do not make
their cooks understand that the mistress
holds full and not-to-be-disputed author
ity, not only over the parlor but over
every department in the house, de
manding implicit acquiescence in all
reasonable requirements, and is fully
competent to judge of the performance
of every duty they cannot complain if
their husbands and sons learn that
creature comforts are more surely sup
plied at restaurants, and patronize
them rather than submit to the discom
forts of the home table.
If the wife first understands how to
manufacture each dish that Bhe allows
to bo set before hor famiW, herself,
and is, by this knowledgo, fitted to in
struct her servants and securo their
ready compliance with hor teachings,
she lias it in her power, without the
least danger of being overburdened, to
surpass in attractiveness, if not in ab
solute culinary excellence, any place
of public entertainment that can be
To understand all the arts of cook
ery. and be able to practice or super
intend the work whenever anything
elaborate or Intricate is wished for, is
an accomplishment for any lady to be
proud of. But it is far more important
to understand and auccessluliy super
intend the less intricate, more substan
tial and healthful every-day family
meals to be so able to provide aoharm
ing variety that there will be Utile
pleasant surprises every day or two,
instead of that monotony that enables
each member of the family to know.
just what each day's bill of fare will be,
For some of our readers the most re.
ligious part of this paper is its direc
tions how to make the home happy by
making the table attractive, God has
called heaven our home that He may
teach us to make home our heaven;
and any wife and mother who knows
not how to do this needs to seok instruc
tion in the first principles of her lifo-
duty. (.nnsiian tinon.
General Grant's Preset to the Emperor
On Saturday afternoon there arrived
In this city three valuable and magnifi
cent stallions en route to the Japanese
Empire. These horses are in charge of
William B. Griffith and Edward Casey
of Washington, who are going through
to Japan with them to see them safely
delivered. The animals were taken to
Ed. Culver s stable ou Eleventh streot
for a two days' rest, and there a liee
reporter this morning obtained a view
of the beautiful steeds.
"Barb," of Ethan Allen blood, Is
four years old, and was presented by
Goueral Grant to the Emperor of
Japan, bv whom the General was so
hospitably entertained while visiting
that country. Ibis horse is a tine bay.
with mo white hind feet, with white
star in forehead, long mane and tail. Is
fifteen hands nigh, has beautifully
formed limbs, possesses good action,
and Is very promising as to speed. This
horse has been owned by General Grant
since he was a colt. -
Kingaley" is sixteen hands high,
seven years old, is a rich mahogany bay
wim no maris, anu nas ions mane anu
tail. He Ira running horse, having a
record of 1 :4 1.
"Black Hawk, Juuior," Is a jet
black horse, with white hind feet, one
white front foot and white star on fore
head: lonir mane: tail drags on the
ground; he is IS hands high, Is sym
metrically prupurtiuuou, una ciemib
limbs: has trotted a mile In- and
8:23, and has prospeota of getting be
low i-.tO. . He Is one of the most beau
tiful horses that man ever laid eyes
nuon. i -
These horses came from the farm of
General Beols, near Washington, where
the Arabian horses presented to Gen
eral Grant are kept. It will be remem
bered that General Grant was the guest
of General Heals while visiting Vt ash
Ington. "Kingsley" and ."Black
Hawk," were purchased for the Japa
nese uovernmeni ny lis agent, Air,
Horace Capron, assisted by Mr. Ed.
France, at a cost of about four thou
sand dollars each. "Barb,'? the pres
ent of General Grant to the Japanese
Emperor, Is valued at about the same
The horses leave for San Franclsoo
on this evening's freight train, . They
will bo rested at Ogden two or three
days, and then resume their journey.
HEARING WITHOUT EARS.
Not long ago I went with some very
excellent and humano people to witness
the wondniful scene of a number of deaf
persons from the Deaf and Dumb Insti
tute, who were mado to hear through
thoir teeth! They all hail been deaf
some from birth and some from Infancy.
There wore four pretty, pleasant-looking
girls, and six or eight bright boys.
One of the boys had lost both arms,
but the poor fellow had been taught the
sign-language by his loving, patient
teacher, and could show that he under
stood it by waving and lifting his poor
stumps of arms.
As soon as we all wore seated, a fine
looking gontleman got up and said:
" I have been deaf for twonty years.
I have tried all manner of speaking
trumpets, which did me very little good,
and I had mado up my mind that, for
the rest of my life, I must never hear
my children's voice, never listen to the
sound of sweet music, but just lead a
sad, silent life. One dny I was talking
to a friend with my watch in my hand,
and carelessly placed it against my
teeth. To my astonishment, 1 plainly
heard the ticking of the watch, though
it was utterly silent when placed at my
ear. I began to make experiments. I
held a piece of bent metal to my teeth.
I tried a tuning-fork. I rcmembeted
that Beethoven, tho great composer,
who became very deaf, held a metallic
rod between his teeth, the other end
resting on the sounding-board of his
Eiano, and by this means he was able to
ear the perfect music which his brain
had produced. . I tested various ways
of hearing through tho teeth, and now,
after many trials, I have perfected
this," and he held up what looked ex
actly like a fan. " This," he continued,
" is tho nndiphone. It is made of flex
ible, polished, carbonized rubber. Fine
silk cords, attached to the upper edge,
bend it over, and are fastened by a
wedge in the handle. Tho tension is
adjusted to suit the sound, as an opera
glass is adjusted to suit distance. The
top edge of the fan rests np:n the up
per teeth, and tho sound-waves strike
its surface: the vibrations are conveyed
by the teeth and the hones of the face
to tho acoustic nerve communicating
witn me brain. '
It is almost impossible to believe, but
the gentleman called up one of the deaf
mutes, and, standing just in front of
nun, gave a tremendous snout, wmcn
made us all fairly bounce on our chairs,
but the boy did not start, or move so
much as an eyelash, which showed very
5!ainly that he had heard nothing,
hen Mr. Rhodes, for this is the name
of the inventor of the audiphone, ar
ranged the tension, and plaoed one in
the boy's hand, adjusting it to his teeth.
Then, " A, B. C," said Mr. Rhodes, in
an ordinary tone. At the sound the boy
started, his face flushed, and he raised
his hand with a quick surprised motion.
He heard for the first time in Ms life! He
did not know what the Bounds meant.
because to a deaf person English speech
might as well be Greek a deaf per
son's mind is a perfect blank as to the
meanings of sound, though be may be
able to talk fast enough on his fingers.
Then Mr. Rhodes went behind the boy
and said: "A, a, u, a little louder,
and his teacher made the signs of the
letters at the same time; the boy gave a
skip of delight, making the letters also.
Then a lady played on the piano, and
the boy heard music for the first time!
His hand moved up nnd down witn a
rhythmic motion, as if keeping time to
Then another boy was called, and the
same experiments were tried, the first
boy looking eagerly on, and talking as
fast as his lingers would go, to the rest
of the class. 1 he second boy said in the
sign language that he could hear "very
loud sounds." Air. Khodes shouted at
him enmigh to nearly crack his skull.
but he showed no sign of hearing, so
his "very loud" must have been like a
broadside ol cannons.
But with the audiphone to his teeth
he heard everything. All the boys were
tried in turn, with nearly the same suc
cess, even to the poor fellow without
arms. The audiphone was hold to his
teeth, and such a flood of happiness
came over his faco, and poured out of
his eyes, mat my own eyes were bunded
with tears. The rich tones of a parlor
organ, which a gentleman present
played upon, seemed almost to trans
late him from earth to heaven. It was
not music to him; it was a sweet,
melodious sound, the revelation of a
sense which gave him a now and in
And now one of the girls, a pale.
pretty little thing, was called to the
table. The audiphone was placed to her
teeth, and Mr. Rhodes mado a sound
hope you understand that it was of no
use for him to ask a question, because
a deaf person has to begin like a baby
to understand tho meaning of sound;
the deaf must be educated as to what
an articulate sound is to toll them. It
would be with them like teaching i
baby to talk.
Wknn l.a M V,.,-nl .1,- ........ I
what a study her face became! Waves
ol rosy color passed over her cheeks,
her eyes wore uplifted, her hand was
raised, tho forefinger pointing to
But now Mr. Rhodes brought out a
number of tint boxes, each holding an
audiphone. He took them out, and
gave one to each of the deaf mutes.
Then a lady nrosent sanir an echo soncr.
very sweeny, witn me accompaniment
of the piano. Vt hat a sight it was, as,
with audiphones at their teeth, the
class listened to this mysterious sweet
ness, these harmonious sounds! The
pale young girl stood motionless, rapt,
absorbed, with parted lips and wide,
uplifted eves. A flood of light flowed
over ner lace; ner capacity to under
stand what such sound meant seemed
greater than that of the others; one
almost would have thought that she was
having a glimpse of heaven. As the
sweet voice of the singer rose higher.
tho young girl's hand and arm were
raised to the utmost, the forefinger
pointing upward; but with the soft
echo of the song, the hand floated
down with a gentle wavering motion
and moved softly to and fro, in
perfect accord with the time. As
the swelling tones were raised again,
up went her hand, but her eyes never
changed their uplifted, almost
spiritual look, nnd her breath came
quick and trembling. Oh, can
any one measure the happinessl
that tilled that child's soul, and so
transformed that small, pale face?
That view of the first ineffable Joy of
hearing is something never to be for
gotten! The other children were af
fected in different ways some waved
their hands, some looked eagerly de
lighted; the maimed boy's eyes grew
big and black, and a broad smile
opened his mouth, as if he were laugh
ing, but he made no audible sound.
After the song, Mr. Rhodes requested
the coiupauy to sing, " Nearer, My
God, to Thee." We rose from our
chairs, and the beautiful hymn was
sung, with the full accompaniment of
the organ. I cannot describe the de
light of the deaf girls and boys, as the
sweet, solemn strains struck upon the
precious audiphones held close to their
teeth. They waved their hands to and
fro, thoir faces glowing; the young
?rrl, as before, looking upward, raising
icr arm with pointing finger at the
high notes, and lowering it gently at
the low tones. Big tears stood in the
eyes of many of tho singers, and I for
one shall never forgot tho scone.
Mr. Rhotles has sent an audiphone,
as a gift, to the Princess of Wales, who
is very deaf. These fans can be deoo
rated and painted so as to be very
beautiful, nnd a lady using one would
nevor bo supposed to be deaf, if she
playfully placed her fan against her
teeth when she was conversing.
"Aunt Fanny," in 81. KichoUts.
Sir Humphrey Davy's Courage.
A writer on Sir Humphrey Davy,
Temple Bar, tells the following stories
of his courage: "The same moral and
fihvsical courage which Davy displayed
n liis youth by deliberately taking out
his pockctknife and excising a part of
his leg which had been bitten by a mad
dog, and cauterizing the wound with
is own nanus, was exnioiteu in ins
hemicnl investigations. His discovery
that nitrous gas, the vapor of aquafor
tis, is not injurious to health, resulted
from experiments on his own life. He
obtained the gas in a state of purity,
and, though very well aware of the dan
ger he ran if the received theory of its
deadly powers was true, which he
doubted, he resolved to inhale it in its
pure form'. Gradually increasing the
dose, ho ultimately succeeded in breath
ing four quarts of the gas from and into
a silk bag. Ho experienced a sense of
giddiness, accompanied with loss of
sensation and volition, a state analo
gous to intoxication, ' attended' as he
says, ' by a highly pleasurable tunning
the chest and limbs, ihe objects
around became dazzling and my hear-
ng more acute, loward the last in
spiration the sense of muscular power
became greater, and at last an irre
sistible propensity to action was in
dulged in. My gesticulations were
various and violent. In ten minutes
had recovered my natural state of
" And what are we to say of the dar
ing of the following experiment, at
which he was again operator and sub
ject. Ho was curious to know what
effect drink would have on a person
under the influence of this gas. He
drank a bottle of wine in about eight
minutes. '1 perceived,' says he 'a
sense of fullness in the head and throb
bing of the arteries. I lost the powor
of speech, and was unable to stand
steadily. In an hour I sank into a state
of insensibility, in which I remained
for two hours and a ball. 1 was awak
ened by severe headache and nausea.
and my bodily and mental dobility were
excessive. In this state I breathed five
quarts of gas for a minute and a half.
but it must have been impure, for it had
no effect.' He then respired twelve
quarts of oxygen for nearly four min
utes, without any material change in
his sensations. The severe headache
continuing, he respired seven quarts of
quite pure nitrous oxide lor two and a
half minutes. After the third respira
tion the headache vanished. Brilliant
ideas passed through his mind. He
jumped and danced across the room;
but languor and depression succeeded,
which gradually wore on toward even
ing, in his treatise 'Concerning Nitrous
Oxide' he records its amusing effects on
several of his friends. One of them
danced about liko a spinning top, and
got so pugnacious that he struck at
whoever happened to oe near mm. its
influence on such chosen souls as Cole
ridge and Southey was by no means
brilliant. Ihey jumped and skipped
about the room, laughing idiotically,
every gleam of intelligence fading from
"Tho experiment on himself by
which Davy proved that hydrocarbon ate
acts as a sedative was fearfully daring.
It was no foolhardy bravado that was
the motive power with him, but a love
of scientific investigation. He says he
was anxious to compare its effects with
those of nitrous oxide. Emboldened by
a first experiment, from which he felt
no excessively painful results, ho intro
duced four quarts of the gas into a silk
bag. After a forced exhaustion of the
lungs, and the nose being accurately
closed, he made three breathings of the
hydrocarbonato. Tho first produced a
feeling of numbness, the second took
away the power of vision and enfeebled
the other senses, the third sent him
away in a swoon, and just loft him
power to throw away the tube from his
lips. Alter a snort interval ne recov
ered a little, and was able to whisper.
1 do not think I shall die. Placing
his linger on his wrist he found his
pulse beating with excessive Quickness,
In nbout a minuto he was able to walk,
but for an hour was weak and giddy,
and conscious of a painful pressure upon
Taking Advantage of Leap-Year.
A Detrolter who was out in the coun
try the other day to look after some
poultry got stuck in a mud.hole, al
though having a light buggy and a
strong horse. He got out, took a rail
off the fence, and was trying to pry the
veiucie out, wnen along came a strap
ping young woman about twenty-six
years of age. She halted, surveyed the
situation, and said:
- "You stand by the horse while
heave on the rail, and don't be afraid
of getting mud on your hands and
Thoir united efforts released the ve
hicle, and the Detrolter returned thanks
and asked hor to get In and ride. She
hesitated, looked up and down the road,
and finally Baid:
"Stranger, I'm blunt spoken. Who
He gave his name and residence, and
" I'm over twenty-five, worth five
hundred in cash, know all about house
work, and this is Leap-Year."
"Yes, I know, but for Heaven's sake
don t ask me to marry you!" he replied,
as he saw the drift.
" See here," she continued, looking
him square in the eye, " I'm a straight
girl, wear a No, 7 shoe, and I like the
looks of you."
" Yes, but don't don't talk that way
"Stranger, it's Leap-Year, and I'm
going to pop! Will you have me or
"I I'm already married!" he
" Wei!, that settles me, and I won'
ride. I'll take a out across the field
over to old Spooner's. He's pit four
sons and a fool nephew, and 1 11 begin
on the old man and pop the crowd clear
down to the idiot, for I've sltimmixed
around this world just along as I'm go
ing to! iiood-bye, sir no narm done!
Detroit t ret tress.
Glances Through a Telescope at Jupiter,
Saturn and Mars.
Tho last rays of the sotting sun were
flooding the earth with a golden glow,
as, in Mr. Seagravo's private observa
tory, the telescope was turned toward
that part of the sky where Jupiter was
pursuing his westward course, though
as yet invisible to the naked eye. Our
giant brother mado a lovely picture on
back-ground still brilliant with the
light of parting day, the disc looking
like a circle of white cloud marked with
shadowy belts. As the twilight faded,
the color deepened, and the disc of
fleecy white became a sphere of golden
uo, greatly flattened at the poles, and
iversifled with a brilliant purple belt
around the equator, and with belts of
softer tone near the poles. Fen may
not paint the peerless picture of this
grand planet as it hung projected from
the heavens, a hugo golden ball, large
as the full moon, and marked with wavy
belts harmoniously tinted, wnuo two
moons far apart on the right, and two
close together on the left, added to the
completeness of the scene.
Hie telescope was noxi iiirncn to
ward Saturn, and a view of surpassing
beauty entranced the eye, for the rings
are opening and cradling the planet in
their concentric circles of golden light.
There is no object in the heavens, with
the exception of tho sun, tnai so im
presses the beholder as the telescopic
Saturn. An artist might outline its
form, but the efforts of a lifetime could
never imprison on canvas the clearness,
softness and brilliancy of the celestial
coloring. The faint and dimly-colored
star that shines in our nightly firma
ment undergoes a wondrous transfor
mation in the far-seeing eye of the in
strument that annihilates distance, as
in the entrancing view that rewarded
our observation. The planet, with its
shadowy bands, was sharply and clear
ly defined, and the nngs encompasseu
the great sphere like guardians to ward
oft' danger. The definition was so fine,
and the atmosphere so still, that the
opening between the inner and outer
ring, the dark ring, the shadow of the
planet on the ring, nnd the shadow of
the rings on the planet, were easily dis
cerned, while five moons, four on the
right and one on the left, completed the
brilliant sight. V ords may describe
the elements of the scene, but they can
give no idea of the feelings of awe and
amazement, ine Keen onjoymeni ox me
beautiful in nature, the deep impres
sion of infinite wisdom and power in
spired by the view. Saturn, though
surpassed by Jupiter in mass and
volume, far surpasses his gigantic
brother in the magnificence of nis sys
tem, and in the superb sight afforded
of the system and harmony that reign
m the movements oi nis complex anu
Alars came next as an oDiect oi oo-
servation, but his lesser glory paled
after the brilliant show made by his
powerful rivals. A globe of reddish
light in gibbous phase appeared upon
the field of vision, and nothing more.
He is traveling from us, and too far
away to be a matter of telescopic inter
est. " Faint markings on his surface
gave indication of the wonderful conti
nents, islands and seas tnat eagle-eyed
astronomers have mapped upon his sur
face. His tiny moons nave become in
visible, and nearly two years will pass
before a sight of the Martian satellites
will greet the eyes of astronomers,
while seven or eight revolutions of the
earth will be required before this planet
repeats the favorable conditions of the
opposition of lo. trovtaence (tt i.)
The Antiquity of the Spoon.
ihe use of our common table utensil,
the spoon, is widespread, and its inven
tion, as it appears, dates from remote
antiquity. The form which we use at
the present day a small oval bowl pro
vided with a shank and flattened handle
is not that which has been universally
adopted. Ii we examine into the man
ners and customs of some of the people
less civilized than we tho Kabyles, for
example we shall find that they use a
round wooden spoon. The Romans
also used a round spoon, which was
made of coppor. We might be led, from
the latter fact, to infer . that the primi
tive form of this utensil was round, and
that the oval shape was a compara
tively modern invention. But such is
not the case; for Al. Uhantre, in making
some excavations on the borders ol
Lake Puladru, the waters of which had
been partially drawn off, found, in good
state of preservation, wooden spoons
which In shape were nearly liko those
in use at the present day, the only dif
ference being in form of the handle,
which was no wider than the shank.
The lacustrine station where these were
found dates back to the ninth century,
and we therefore have evidence that
oval spoons were already in use during
the Carlovingian epoch. The Neolithic
peoples used oval spoons made of baked
clay; several fragments of such have
been found in the Seine, and M. Fer
rault has also discovered a number in a
Neolithio deposit in Burgundy. This
gentleman found, in addition, a pot
ladle. "The table spoons," says he.
" are elongated and exactly resemble
the wooden spoons in use in our
kitchens. Their bowls vary from three
to fourteen millimeters in depth." The
portions of handles which he collected
were too fragmentary to allow it to be
determined whether or not they termi
nated in a flattened handle like the
It might be pertinent to inquire to
what possible use a spoon could have
been put in the Reindeer Age, when
raw meat was eaten, and when skin
bottles were the only water vessels.
Yet a genuine spoon made of reindeer's
horn has been discovered in the Grotto
of Gounlan. It is oval, very long, and
quite shallow. Its handle Is very ele
gant, being covered with engraved
figures. Unfortunately it is broken so
that it is impossible to say whether the
handle was flattened. The slight depth
of the spoon should not surprise us, for
the men who made it knew neither
soups nor sauoes, and they could only
have used it for the purpose of extract
ing the marrow from the long bones of
large animals, or for eating the brains
of the latter, and for such uses depth of
bowl was of small oonsequenoe. M.
Fiette has likewise found other well
characterized spoons in deposits of the
Reindeer Age. One of these, more del
icate, narrower, deeper and less ele
gant than the one just mentioned, was
found in one of the lowermost strata.
At a still greater depth in the same de
posit he came across a thick rudely
made spoon, which appeared never to
have had any handle. It was made of
rough dressed bone, with polished
edges, and Its shae was oval. Before
the Invention of such an implement as a
spoon, man of the Reindeer Age em
nloved the suatula; and this is found at
all depths in the Gourdan and Lortet
'.. .... : .It 1 t
deposits, iur. uarngnu uiaeuvureu lu
the Grotto of Alliat a fragment of rein
deer's horn hollowed out in its whole
length, and apparently designed for
holding liquids; auu similar uteusus
were found by M. Plette at Gourdnn.
These, however, were probably only
temporarily used as spoons, the only
genuine spoons which have been dis
covered being those doscribed above,
and which served as models for Neo
lithio man who afterward appeared on
tho scene. Scientific American.
Light in a Dark Place.
There Is a placid skepticism which
sneers at all tho humane and charitable
efforts to help paupers and oriminnls, of
which we speak clscwhnre, as a foolish
waste of time. But tho spirit which
taught forgiveness until seventy times
soven, and which fills Heaven with Joy
over ono soul saved, is porpotually il
lustrated, although not always noted.
Tho good people who are patiently
working in their various counties, vis
iting the jails and the poor-houses, will
see in one littlo incident that their la
bor is not In vain. . ,
A young man nineteen years old was
committed to the jail in Richmond
Cotintv, in this State, for theft. Ho
proved to be an old offender even at
that age, and had been already in the
Stnte l'rison. Ho was disowned by his
friends as irreclaimable, and was seri
ously ill. The Sheriff, who is the jailer
in mat county, and his wife, were very
kind to him, and Mrs. Floyd, one of the
ladies of tho "Jail Committee" of the
State Charities Aid County Association,
often visited him. Tho young man was
evidently deeply touched, anu upon the
expiration of his term tho Sheriff hu
manely obtained a place for him in an
honest industry. A few days since he
sent the following letter to the Sheriff,
whiclv is unquestionably sincere, and
very suggestive and encouraging-
"Sm I think it a duty .to write to
you and tell you how 1 get along, be
cause I never can forgot the way, Sher
iff, you treated me wnilo in your charge.
I promised you I would try to do right,
and I am trying to keep my promiso. I
am getting along better than I antici
pated I should. I am boarding in a
very nice place, and fool quite com
fortable. Mrs. Floyd writes to mo, and
Mr. Butler comes to see me often. To
night I write three lottors one to you,
ono to Mr. Vaughn (Deputy Sheriff),
and one to Mrs. Floyd feeling in the
best of spirits, and as good as ever.
Sheriff, I am not a school-man, and can
not command in the English language
words adequate to express my grati
tude to you, Mrs. Brown and Mr.
Vaughn, for you have lifted me, an un
happy convict, up, and placed me on
the first step of the ladder, and once
on the first step, it will not be impossi
ble, with the help of the Divine assist
ance, to ascend the rest. I might slip,
but even should I slip one step, it will
be my ambition to reascend two I
ask you to remember me to Mrs. Brown,
such as a son would desire to be re
membered to a mother, also to her kind
sister, for, Sheriff, the only friends I
have in this world are those I made In
your jail I will try and adhere to my
Sood resolutions. I am fully awaro
lat I have all up-hill work before me,
and that I have a great deal of preju
dice to overcome, in the shape of the
taunts and jeers of those virtuous per
sons who will never give a fallen broth
er credit for a sincere desire to reform.
Nevertheless, I hope ultimately to live
down my former bad reputation, nnd
should I succeed, you can take credit to
yourself, in conjunction with the re
mainder of your family, and Mrs. Floyd,
for having savod one fallen creature
from ruination; and it will be another
proof that there are few hearts so ut
terly depraved as to be impervious to
acts of humanity and kindness." Har
per s Weekly.
A Returned Deadwooder Tells a Little
" Deadwood," said tho stranger, put
ting down his half-eaten slice of lemon
pie and taking a long pull at the milk,
" I went there when the first rush was
made for the hills. Rather a rough
crowd, the first lot, you bet; more
wholesome now. When I got there 1
was dead-broke didn't have a dollar,
didn't have a revolver, which a man'll
often need out there worse'n a meal's
vittles. I was prob'ly the only man in
the hills who didn't carry firearms, an'
I was some lonesome, I tell you. The
only weepon I hed I'm a blacksmith
was a rasp, a heavy file, you know.
'bout eighteen inches long, which I car
ried down my back, the handle in easy
reach just below my coat collar. Un
derstand? Like the Arkansaw man car
ries his bowie-knife. I'm not exactly a
temperance man. I just don't drink
an' don't meddle with ary other man's
drinkin' that's all. One day I hedn't
been In Deadwood raore'n a week I
was settin' in a s' loon only place a
man kin set to see any society when a
feller come in, a reg'lar hustler, with
his can full and a quart over. Hed a
revolver on each side of his belt, an'
looked vicious. Nothin' mean about
him, though, Askt me to drink. 'Not
any, thank you,' sez I. 'Not drink
with me! Ale! Bill eathergill! Wbenl
ask a tender-foot to drink, I expect him
to prance right up, an' no monkeyin' !
Xou h-e-a-r nier
"Well, when his hand went down for
his revolver, I whipped out my old file
quicker'n lightnin', an swiped dim one
right acrost the face. When he fell I
thought I'd killed him,. an' the s'loon,
fillin up with miners. I sorter skinned
out, not knowin' what might happen.
Puny soon a chap in a red shirt come
up to me. Sei he, ' You the man as
ke-arved BUI r eainerguir uos, ei so oe
as you are, ef you don t want ev ry
man in the hills to climb you, don'tyou
trv to hide yourself the boys is a askur
fur yeu now.'
" it strucK me mac my inenu nau me
Idee, so I waltzed back and went up an'
down before that s'loon for nigh three
hours. I'd found out Bill wasn't dead
an' was bad medicine, but it wouldn't
do to let down. Furty soon I see my
man a-headiii' fur nfe. His face had
been patched up till it looked like the
closing-out display of a retail dry-goods
store. There was so little countenance
exposed that I couldn't guess .what he
was a-aimin' at, so I brought my hand
back of my collar an' grabbed my file.
" 'Hold on, there; hold on,' sez he,
'gimme y'r hand, I'm friendly, I've got
nothin' agin you, not a thing, but
you'll pardon my curiosity wnat sort
of a fool weepon was that, stranger?' "
The English Presbyterians are
greatly concerned over the heavy losses
they are subject to every year. A re
cent writer estimates the loss at two
thousand a year. He adds: "It is an
alarming confession for a church to
make, which numbers only some fifty
thousand members, that there is an an
nual leakage of a twenty-fifth part of
the whole body. The above statement
concerns .only the communion-roll of
the church. What proportion of our
adherents, who form the bulk of our
congregations, are similarly lost to us
year by year we have no accurate means
of knowing. "