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1, ri A a u . ~ ~ ". ,f r '1ti . J ':I (. i , F,, *T ~ t !. t. A li{:i 1". r1 r" 1, ' ~, 1? ,n ,{, {. .,,:3 ~C X .1". 'i l ._.S'; r .t1' ,+' i , ! ti: , . .,.n~ . t' 1 "r. 4 - 5'-- x. , .' A4 C~ IC'r/ < I : . :1' ^ ' x , ,, 1'y) x .I rrr c d Y: iii h.llw{ ..f G . lc !}il :/ l n:.1' ,l ). r{,a t'. I , . jy ,:r' J . r1 1 . r 1 i . ' 11 . , 1t, A i , 1 - t sV 1 EEK i, V> '! EDI IO EST BLI HE 1848 tli 'v,r ; a,ir1 1> i1 .. 1 "t , 1fI r ., ~ The ausmer oa. nd dr.emedn be eapny lad, -- l; the gldea orapgo tieo Tby a With hI tht ;,ere beating Of the happy days to be; lok both were young and life was thir, Bj'the shore of the rummer sea. -haA duseen areer, sougut their baunt ' . eath tb, bendingbough' of gold; A shat fom Love's naerring hand; Ab, 'tis the story oldi Po both were young and ono was fair, -Where the stummer billows rollpol And no?. Ask of the Roiting years Wbre the golden visions be, Tast imid as. the dreame i plighted troth, While'the waves sang merrily; 'or Truth bath fed and they've wandered remi the she f the autor seat 4 ING ENEMIIS. o reflection of a slim, black-robed yre, a piquant, sweet faces to which flection Miss Sybil Darke made an latbrate bow, and turned away with a wry face. "Arrayed like the Queen of Sheba, to pass muster," ohe wickedly thought, going down the richly carpeted stairs, singing softly. "Poutf why should I 1 care an iota for the opinion of all the cynical, crusty old bachelors in Christ endom? and I don't. Mr. Rex Vaneka, my honorable unwilling guardian, least of all." When she came slowly in, still hum ming in a sweet, careless way, she found her guardian standing by the window of the dining-room awaiting her arrival. On her entrance he turned with a 1 lazy smile which lay more in his dark eyes than on the lips almost hidden )aeneath a drooping, well-trained nns ;; tache. Inwardly,. Sybil was provoked that even the"fact of her having kept dinner Walting could not betray him into ir * ritation or impatience. 4 Outwardly, she returned his greeting with a careless nod and a few light wrrde, then both took their places at the dainty, richly-laden table, under the care of a well-trained butler. .' Sybil had spoken of,hot guardian as a "cynical crusty old bachelor, yet stealing lagce t -him aprss the table dt~e i1 a at lie iin.Y.somer, -n a -Itural we ny of the many young bes vho had come under the fire '( 'lolet eyes and keen satire. ad Rex Vaneka was thinking in an mused, lazy way how mnch her.keen. witty presence had done to give edge and flavor to his appetite. Just one week since she had come to the Glades straight from the funeral of her worldly, handsome father, sent there by fate, and. that father, who had been an old fi lend of Vaneka's in the days when both were struggling artists and "hall-fellow-well-met" Ilohemians. Theo Darke was then a widower with one child-Sybil-the light of his care less, reckless life. To the end of his days Darke had remained a J3ohemian, * a will-o'-the-wisp, who knew all parts - of the world, but rested or cettled in none. * An ancient relative had obligingly .yielded- the ghost, and left Rex Vaneka not only a handsome fortune, but theC beautiful home.known ats the Glades. Pate and Thee Darke had constitut.' ed him Ruardian of an "Unknownt quantity"-namely, Miss Sybil-when her father had laid down huis life as e-isily as he had lived it uinder the sunny sk'es of Italy. On his death-bed ho had afi Aftpn Rlex, * begging him to look out for 'ihe wel - fare of his darling child, for the sake of * the old days. * Although Vaneka had answered Imn mediately by. cable and sent his lawyer to attend the funeral expenses and bringC Sybil back with him, lhe hardly regard. ed the duty imposed on him in regard to the child in the light of a pleasure. 'What did he know about children, large or-small, and "what the denico was he to do with her?" lie hardly stopped to count the age the "child" must be-eighteen years, if he had counted-but laid the matter be fore his kindly housekeeper, Mrs. Mer- ' cei', who advised him to have the child broughat to the Glades, and engage a governess for her. Sitting opposite his ward at dinnor, Vaneka remembered all ts,and smiled * teach this tall,- graceful young lady * with the free, queenly grace of a young filly; the lovely, fresh face, charming, changeable, 3 et possessmng all the paroud, haughty curves of intellect and culture; the ducaionof practical worldlye. perience that th:e' will-o'-the,wisp, Theeo Darke's will-o'-the-wisp daughter, mustI posseas.t Mrz. Vanoka lifted his eyes during a * n16mnentary lull in the conversation to regard her again, and caught lhen in a likn breach 6f etiquette. 4. a sift flush ent s-ed her lovely,C s.zlcy face; her eyes regarded the dainty1 * 5'vrea of the table Instead of her com-. panion's~ face, as. they had meant to do. e Thten the sense of the ludicrous over conn-s iwr confusion, and she gives way to the mtin hl consuming her in a merry. amus'ed laugh Gravely, as if at a funeiral, VanekaI *eumeod his dine., and gave the butler rdor for a different braid of 'wle, I vhIoh conpelled that stately individual 0 eave the ioom. Do youide, $iss Darke?" asked a , the amuSed sntale Milin ins ni eyes. She tells herself she hates hin for not ining in }er laughter to cover her .i nortifQoato . "Xakc a lentaur," she answered, in 1 Crln airiness, bound that she will con erse with him as little as possible. "Indeed!" the amusement extendts'to a ds deep, rich, nonelihlant vole 'o> . 'I am glad of that. Time Willihang. ess heavily on you bands. Wu4you s ike to go on a tour of inspection after IinnerY We would have pleety of tme s ir a canter to the sea, And I have ome excellent horse-flesh." It is difficult to repress the eager ex ,itement in her eyes, but she bites her a oRgue to keep from accepting, and a inswers In a voice of cool, .languid in. e lifrerence: t "No doubt. I am an excellent judge c if horse-flesh, and some time will give nyself the pleasure of trying yours. I (r. Vaneka. But I shall be engaged I ili afternoon in' letter-writing. My be. c ctting sin is a good memory, else orldliness would teach me to forget 1 ne old friends. I wish you a plea.sant Q anter to the sea. Perhaps you will f )ring me back a 'sob from the ocean t urf I' " "I will at least try," he answers, olitely sarcastic. "Your slave, lover, r one of those well. remembered old riends could do no more, could they?" Unaccolintably she blushes, and rises rom the table, with a careless little r augh. Rex -wonders as lie courteously holds 1 he door open' for her it the credit of I )ush and impatient exit is not due to he "lover." I He returns from his ride in the sum ner twilight. The groom takes his horse and Rex .1 sunters up the broad avenue and gray led, flower bordered walk to the grand nansion, conscious of a vague ariness if spirit. All the time his"thoughts are fuii of lie girl who has broken in on the "even I enor of his way." But it is many years since any one voman has been more than another to lox Vaneka. But, like biiloenory-is his beset u ' l k to him no vould havebeeh well lost for the sake - if a woman to whom he bad been less c han nothing. The notes of the piano .are dropping nto: the outer noises of the twilight, Ohen he reaches the promenade passing r lie window of the music-room. ie Is not aware that Sybil has seen I is approach, and is singing for his ara. Her voice Is clear, exquisite, sweet nd well-trained. Rex is passionately, fond of vocal nusic, possessing a fine tenor-voice imself; but he smiles and, pauses as le words come to him: "Throw a rose in the stroam at morn, Watch at eve for the flower's return ; Throw on the lako a golden grain, Watch at mnorn for tho grain aigain. If your flower you agaiin bohold, If you gazo on your grain of gold, Thon believe, but not till thon,r That thero is truth in tho vows of suon," "You must have had a sad experi- t lice, Miss Darke," says her guardian, c iteoring through the open, flower- r had.>wed window. Is your selection f songs the result of good memory, r to?" She looks up with a light laugh. Hie e as turned the dagger she, meant to hi se, and pointed it at her own heart .I vithiout the least exertion, The latent c nusement Is in his eyes, but still un- 'y erneath is a touch of vague unrest, pan- c ion, admiration, recklessness strugg1- c rig for existence.' "I was never so fool!shu as to trust my t :rain of goldl' to the lake's tender mer- c les," she saidl gayly. "Therefore need I: ever watch for its return." "You hayc a beautiful voice, Miss t arke; finely cultivated," gently. t 'was educated for the stage-iI. e ould be," answers his ward flippant ;then voice and eyes grow tremuluos. "It was all arranged that I should rako my aebut ini Paris several months go. Then-then hie took ill and died. 'hat changed everything." "Poor child I" he murmured, almost mpted to kiss the tremulous lips, and aguely conscious that time has net iled t.he "milk of human kindness" ulsing in his heart. "Poo,r child, and oor Darke." Involuntarily he placed cue strong, haipehy hand above hers on the key 'oard. Involuntairily, too-pethaps im oIled by some high, nward force when 3 spoke her deaid darling's name In onder accents Rtex Vaneka's Ward bent er queenly head aiid pressed her sweet ps against the hand of her guardlan-. ho man who always gave her the im -ession that lie was laughing at her. Thien swiftly she fled Crom the room 11( did not reapipear again 'that jflit, he1 evening Vaneka spent in smofting ii the terrace, and voting It intermina hy dull.. The days glided into -weeks, and one ay Sybil acame to her guardian with an 'pen letter in her hand. Their. nyutual t Sro of 'Words and wit had never Nanld mnadle'hem in the days past n ~ jder comp.mionis, .certamnly de-. I ,,interesting- company for eaclj the. t,heir walks, drives, rides, and o ho long evenings followli tho : anit, happy dtiy It Is eveningrnow 'aneka an ug igalnst a marbt 1awn is itg i the river and a layiui t 1n. He watches tho elAn, *4 ' robed Iguro coming toward him,=and Into ti'e keptoisin of his eyes fla(bhesehat otht Ight, long oreeping for; zitenoo. Her beautiful fao. is pale an4 grpve. he lays the open letter in her:uars lan's'hand. It is from, a .promlbneit arisiantheatre managor .offthig her n engagpment for ;the comng--season t an enormous figure. Vanok: reads :t through, thet)foids nd silently returns it to her. "I have,, written an acceptance," she aid quietly ih explanation. 'Otcourse, with the inconsistepoy.of :woman," he answers, with a polite' neer. "Exercise your good menlory, nd recall .one day long ago, when you old me that your father's death had hanged all that--meaning the stage." His voice is harsh and stralned. She ifts her humid eyes to his face. It is onchalant as ever, yet the lips are losed as if in fierce restraint. "Time, and the exigenotes of the case ave blunted. my repugnance. Uniag ing spirits and Independence are my ortune. My voice must earn a liveli ood." "A frail support," angrily. "One of hose days your voice will fail, perhaps. Vhat then?" Her immediate -answer was a wry ace, then: "How excessively kind of you to re. nind me, Mr. Vanekal" mockingly. "As your guardian, I have the au hority," he 'continues, sternly regard ug her. "I forbid you to got" His eyes are looking keenly lown nto hers, possessing themselves of shpr oul-secrets. The thought angers her, but her eart thrills passionately under the fire f his eyes. "And if I should break your com nands, Sir Despot?" she laughs, a tri le nervously. ."What then?" ie has possessed himself of -her. lands; his glance holds hers in a look of ender, passionate yerning. "For even thinking of it," he ex lalmed, in a low, masterful voice, 'suppose I say that your punishment hall be to live out all the rest of your 1r hould-you go? I could ot live vlitl ut'yQu?" -Yet a little while later he is wicked. nough to ask, sure in happiness: "And how now about the 'vdws of en,' Sybil?" "Gone the way of all cynical, crusty achelors," she saucily replied. A Paper Organ. A very original musical instrument as recently been constructed at Milan -an organ whose pipes, instead of be rig metal, are of- paper pulp. . Its his ory is quite curious. Father Giovanni rlspl Rigghizo, having learned that he parish dell'I,ncoranata, at Milan was estitute of mnin for the ofReces, con ulived the idea of deviingi a chieap material that would permit of construe Ing org~ans under such conditions that be most unpretending commnitiiies ould purchase one of these instru ients. -This monk, who passed his life " p)overty; was confronted by lack of oney, and, notwithstanding his efforts A carry out. his undertaking, was be inning to despair of success, when he ad the fortune to meet an artisan, auigl Colombo, who understood the onstruction of the instrument, and ma good enough to aid him in carrying ut his design. TIhey both went res lutely to work, and, finally, in Juno, 880, finished the instrument in ques Ion. Unfortunately, by reason of lack f funds, they could not exceed 22 reg iters, 44 pedals, and 1,400 pipes. The nal result, however, is extremely in resting, ~since it is generally agreed liat the instrument possesses great ower, and a sweetness of tone not und in organs hitherto constructed. They Gave the Machine. The Swiss, as a1&dy, move slowly. lxpedition has no charms for them. 'hey have no liking for haste and hurry. 'his tra(,t was amnusingly illustrated the thier day. A banken at -Lausanne ought a typewriter. It worked wvell, nd ho told his friends that lie was de ghted with it. Only a few iweeksalater was senit-to the market place1 to be >M at auction. When asked ,why he ave up the machine, the banker naive rsaid that, with the typewriter, the usiness letters of the firm could be die osed of so quickly that the clerks were ft in Idleness for a great part of the ay. lie therefore abandonod the ma blne and returned to ordinary pen and k. In such a'country It is marvelous dat there should be railroads and beamers. PAREERS who .hlp milk to wearket annot betoo careful about the clean. vgess of thi stock and stable, the urity of the air and the -water which he animals receuve, andc the 'rfeot reedom from taint' of the pail and asu used. . Prmere cannot afford. to ,sve a drop or -two of sour milk, an a all or dan; neither can they, afford to it mik or cream gta,gd where foul dors moay be contracted~ g~ 'io. n e re e hute reavored "edu ,elde ;**ri4 a o ALL ot tl> < rastnus av$ i'd 'j" .ri ai (e$ de whatthe s u air flues trips to ;u aptin, but fisfae what lndia 14 o4tjpnt lage n' Europe west b stau d . ist 80,00,00 o " Xetflillerof anolent nations,,4f i of nviets of civllization o i nob l,ties, priest londs; organi i 'eify"ariceiv able purpose rn'liIe. spretding of great religions d4.wn to systematic'mur der. 'ther atredwco as many. B3 galese .as thee are hrenhmen; the Iindostanees bp uerly so called, out nu'mber ,.he tes 'in the, united States; the Mahr tai would fillddain, the peoplo of, therunjab wi h Soinde are doublo the 4pulation of Turkey, and I have named but four of the more salient divisions. Everything la op the same' bewilder ing ooale. The fighting peoplo of India, whose males are' as big as ourselves, as brave as ourselves, and more regard less of death tbkiat>ourselves,-number at least 120,000,0001 4qtal to Gibbon's cal culation of the population of the Roman empire. - There are 400,000 trained brawn soldiers hi native service, of whom we hear - perhaps once in ten years, and at leat 2,000,000 men who, think their pro r profession is arms, who would live , y arms if they could, and of whom ?we in England never hear a word. If 4he Prusslan conscription were applied in India, we should, with 'ut counting' re' rvos .or landwehr or any force not .s mmoned in time of peace, have 5,500,'000 soldiers actually in barraoks, with' 800,000, recruits com lng tip every year-a force' with which not only Asia, t the world may be subdued. Ther' i'e. tens of rillions of prosperous peasa,s whose hoardings make of India thb grand absorbent of the precious uget ls, tens of tpillidns of peasants beside rhose poverty fellaha or Sioilians or 9ottnaught men are rich; ngilhons of p grtiaa : gito frova the mien wo a 4,' 1N0 nealy ,^ Ivery :".oecujatiouigYbh ' e csts :+Ini Europe existsa)84) anv Iidfa,l, 'The in dustry of:. the vast continent. 'never ceases, for yndia, with a' population in places packed1 beyond European -preced ent, imports ngthing either' to eat or drink, and butfor tiio Europeaun,would import nothing whatever.. She is suf ficient to herself 'for everthing save sil ver. Amid these varied masses, these 250,000,000, whose varied:descriptions would fill volumes, the tide of life"flows as vigorously as in Europe. There is as much labor, 'as much contention, as much ambition,. as much crime, as much variety of careers, hopes, fears and hatreds. It is still possible to a moneyless Indian to become vizier of. a dynasty older. than history, or fnance minister of a new prince whose personal fortune in hard cash Is double that of the late Emperor William, or abbot of a monastery -richer than Glastonbury ever was, owner of an estate that covers a county, head of a firm whose tranSac tions may vie with those of the Barings or Bleichroders. One man, Jute Per shad by name,; fed and transported the army wvhich conquered_the Pnnjab. JAMES WHITOOMB RILEY., Tolls a New esper 1Uan a Uouple of Pathetlo and Hlumorous St:orios. Mr. Riley, who wvas dining at an Ital Iati restaurant, bit the end off one of those crowbars of bread that are served in those caravansaries, while his listen.. er begged him to emit a story. He fin ally consented to toll this combination of humor and pathos: "I was wandering up one of the prin cipal streets of Indianapolis one Decora tion' day, when I met a rugged old farmer from the interior who -seemed to have lost his way. As he wandered aimlessly along 1 approached .him and asked: 'Do yoti enjoy the exercises of the day?' 'Wall, so so,' he answered; 'but I ain't here for fun, I come up to go to the buryin' ground' up there on the hill. -My boy'sabur1ed up there. Hie was In the army, you know. lie had to lie about hue age to git in, but the angels '11 forgive that one lie,; Lord how he did fight! I've heardi the other soldiers tell about,i it. Wall, lhe nt into the 'Jattle o' the lVilderneqf an' got -wbunded awful. 'They telegrayhted to me, an' I went right down. ~ie wanted to be took home an' I fetched him. Oui the way up he grewr worse, an' he said to we if he.could live to get home an' see pis ma, he.wotild be Satis fled. Hie kejl gittin? Weaker an' weak er, but he he14i on till I got himh home'. Hisa ma tried?to ntee hinm back to life, but he keD' o% runnin'.down. Hie call ed me up to big bed one night 'bout sundownb an't said ses he6,. TPa I wanter be buried up i town' meani a here in 1pgIt40*p lia) 'an' t wanityou to keep myg n. Iltere th old ~arIhr wIped the tears fram his oek with his bi5 brown hand, and th ~ ught,it d@Wn my sindtlutmaud*,ad exanminter~ Pmto to, kep that grave geen If I have to One of the ,aost atfeoting stories tha f'. 'iiey teie =tiat Which gave hin - ii ,.ratioA for l,pathetio poen1 >.ye -gt turSVature o pe splue " t' viOts the boastful, chieer: sentimehts of "a "little deformed chilc rlho glo;ies in.his defornaty, and whosf only fear is that his aunty will no know him when she gets to heaven whre:he Is, becaue there, as she ha told 1pm, he will be erect,'and freufron doefomity lke the other. angels. The' Idea for that poein," said Mr Ailey, "was suggested by a rough, rug ged man that I met on one of my tours I had -been lecturing in a little interlo town,- andh "ad to get up at. dayligh one cold 'morning to -ride to the near est railway station. The man whi drove me over,wus one of those. rugged characters that you meet in the rura regIons-ono of those men who"deen sentimentality a weakness and tear something to bo ashamed of. As we rode .olollg over the croaking snow he said, 'I heard you talk last night.' I remarked, 'Indeed! I hope you enjoyed it.' 'Yes,'. said lie, -fust rate. My lit tie girl Was ~there. She likes that sort o'thing. -She's great on po'try. You may-hev seen her. She sat on the-fron row. She's a little girl, not ve'ry tall. You must a-noticed her.' I told hin that I did not recall having seen her and lie continued: 'She ain't very big She don't weigh morn fifty pounds You see, she's got curv?Aure of thf spine. Her mother died when she was a little thing, and havin' no one to lool out fer her as a mother can, she fel down stairs one day an' hurt herself She never got over it. I hev took care o' her the best I knew how, but she'a never groweo. Sometimes I thin1 she'll never be no bigger.' The teari welled to his eyes as he talked. He was ashamed to show the evidences o: his grief, and turned aside his head Seeing that I was looking at him anm had discovered his emotion, he dashed away the moisture 'from his eyes witi one .-of the heavy .loather mittens that he wore and said: 'I dunno what's the matter with my eyes. One o' my hosse iie I$ne, and I put sonelinement on hli I9e this mornin'. I must *a' got som of it on this yer mitten o' mine.') -Fldking to see the. Deooaswd, Z'he Oit11'(de cKr in loago vouolips for the trdth of thO following "I hfd- a funeral at one of the high 'toned coloired eliurch1es on the south side not long ago. The audience roon of the church was 'crowded. The preacher, who is a good deal of.' a com" mon-sense man, by the way, got up an< read 'a 'chapter, and then closed the book without selecting his text. This is quite common, however, with him, I will repeat to you Just what he said '.Br udders- and sisters1 do church an crowded to-day as I habent seed it to many a day. In fac', as do theaters sometimes.put it, dar am standin' room only. Now, why am dis? I kin tel yo-all," and I'se' g'wlno fo' to speak my mind to do p'int. Yo.all come hea fo' to see do' deceased 'in do coffin dlar, I remembah. brudders and sisters, when Brudder Johnson do deceased was a-libbin',' and when he ust to come t< do church which I am proud to say fo' hig4 mem'ry ho did, yo-all. was nevei berrry much consuirno'l about flookmn' in heah to 'see .hlm den. When he was libbiji' do ddceased wa'n't much rur after. Somo.of yo-all wouldn't speaka to him. But now dat.de deceased att dead ye-all kin come in healh and blecl tip do les and do spar room, kase ye-all Pink dat de coffin will bo open and you kim march aroun' iind -take a look al do dleceased. I'so gwvine to disapp'inl ye-all. Do collin won't be open, not Ir dis yeah church. Mister Undertaker, proceed wid do necessary preprashun, for removin' oh de body ob do deceased Wile -do congregatIon will remain stan'ini' and jine do choir in de chant, lessqed are do dead what die in de Lawd. Do deekins will improve do op. portunity by passin' .do baskets. want you 'cullud people what's In de habit eb flockin' to do funerils ob do. ceabed 'thembers and won't come t< church to know dat you got to pay fo' yo' fun. Coffns sent to Live Mou. "Here's the queerest case of swind ling,I ever heard 'of,''.said a gentleman, as he laid down a copy of an E~nglisli newspaper, *'it shows that the B3ritil, are as sharp sormetimes as the Yankees, A young man, wearing a most'rmolim. oholy countenance and all the habill. ments of woe1 went to a prominent uin, dertaker, and stating that his unch( (naming a wealthy citizen) was dead ordered a 'Nery expensive cofi.n wiLl silver mountings to he' sent to the rosi, dence et the dedeaspd. In payment h< tendlered 'a check considerably' largel than the price of the coffin, and receiv ed the change in hard 'sovereigns. The sorrowful young man then disappearoe, and when thle coffin'was sent acoording to 'the address the prominefit citizer supposed to be deceased was fount alive and well. T2he ~slick swindlei 1 eyed;.his littlo game on a number ci the leading unttertakers of London, nd thieAiworked the same raoket in Dublir 1thout- being caught. So ~you se~ d6hnnf'Buulk oa lie us some pointe'j on sWindling y MAKING GAS. A Very Common Thing Whiiih Pc Fo0ple Understand. How few people, can Intelligibly e plain some of the nmost ordinary thin in every-day life? An official of t city gas works was heard yo say, n long ago, that if he might judge by t number of times he was asked for i formation, not more than two people ten know how common illuminatih gas is made. They all seem to undE stand, he said, that it conmes out of so coai, but they are Ignorant of the pr coss by which it is extracted. We < not doubt this at all, for, as we ha, said to you several times, it is the ve, common thin s that we are apt to ove look in our r,earoh for informatio You will understand, therefore, wl wo sometimes select subjects to tal about with which you and overybod else ought to be familiar. Now, let us give you a very shmp explanation of gas-making. Break r a piece of bituminous coal into smo fragments and fill the bowl of a clay ti bacco pipe with them. Cover til mouth of the bowl with wet clay at then thoroughly dry it. Put the bo% of the pipe into a fire where it will gi red-hot and you will soon see a yellov ish smoke come-out.of the stem and you touch a light to the smoke it wJ burn brightly, for it is nothing moi nor less than the gas from the coal. You can purify and collect this gi in a very 'simple way. Fill a bott with water and turn it upside down I a bowl of water. You know the wati will not run out of the bottle becau; the air pressure on the water in tl bowl will prevent it. Put the end the pipe-stein under the mouth of l bottle and the gas will bubble u through the water into the bottle, grat ually displacing the water, and if tl pipe were large enough to make a grei deal of gas the bottle would be entire filled with it. You have seen the immense quant ties or coke which they have at the ga works; that is what is jeft of the co, after the gas has been burned out of I Coke is carbon, only a sinall part < what was in the coal having gone o with the gas. Take the clay coverhi off your pipe and you will find the boy filled. with this coke., Now, that is prec'sely the.way. gas "1db* .1 4t Qt 46. the ga tborks. Istead of" pipe"bowls they to big retorts, and these are heated re hot by furnaces, for, the "fire must l outside of the retorts. Heating ca red hot in a closed' retort is very diffe ent from burning it' in the open all A large pipo frorm the retort carri( off the product of the coal, consistin of steam, tar, air and ammonia, as we as gas. The ammonia and the tar'g into tanks and the gas into coolers an tlpn over limo, which ta*es up th acids in it, into the immense iron ga: holders which you have seen at th works. These holders are open at the bottor and stand, or rather are .swung, il tanks of water, being adjusted by mean ot weights. As the gas comes int them they rise up out of the water, bu the bottoms are always submerged a that the gas cannot escape. The large gas-pipes, or mains, as they are called connect with the holders, and condue the gas through the streets to thm liouses ghere it Is usedi. The pressur is given to the gas by the weight or th iron holders, which are always bearing down on the gas they contain. IIowv They Decided It. There were once twelve Norman who traveled together, noti one of when had ever seen the sea. One day the camne to a ld spread with bleachinj linen andl concluded it must be the blu water. "Brothers," said they, "mv must swvim across." Removing thel garments and making bundles of them which they bore oli their heads, the: took holdl of each other's hands an< commenced wading through. Firs they counted their party. "You and: are one, he and the 'other two, and sa on," said they,but no one could onum ci ate more than eleven this way Thinking that on'e of their party hat dropped out and- would joi them late) they crossed the sea of linen and agait proceeded to the enutteration. Thoj wvere still unable to find more thai cleven, though each one tried, "Yom and I are one,'eto. Finally one o| them said, "Brothers, I have it -W will take twelve clods of dirt, and each one stick his nose in his own clod. Il there are twelve noses each clod wvil be used." This plan succeeded, an( they found themselves twelve in numi ber. IIHyde Park WVali. .Within living memory Hlyde Parlt (London) was surrounded by a wall or which the advertiser, of the day dis played himself (I believe it was black ing that in those times made the work weary), and the little bit of wall re *maining at the north of Kensingtor Gardens has just been removed and re placed with railing by speolal permis sioAm of the Queen, as one of her Ma jesty's jubilee benefactions. The favol was askced principally on behalf o1 I'alace Uou4t the four acres oppositi the Gardens, which are to be coverc< 1with beautifal ihouses In- the prevalen fd anid color. SAY-SO .MARRIAGES. m One of the First on Record in Amorica Was That Of Gover nor I3ellingham. ga The incident where a Boston man of L44 some notoriety recently performed his of own marriage ceremony (if it might be I called suoh) in New York, is not with. n. out precedent. ' The marriage of Miss in Lucy Stone and Dr. Blackwell, about ig thirty-dve years ago, was of somewhat r? the same nature; but thoro is a still ft older precedent in Boston, viz., that of 0' Governor Richard Bellingham of Mas Io sachusetts, of which colony he was one /e of the original patentees. This remark :Y able marriage was enacted nearly 250 r- years ago and under circumstances of n. peculiar notoriety. IY Richard Bellingham, who was bred a k lawyer had been llecorder of the old y town of Boston in England.. le camo to Boston in' the colony of Massachu Ic setts, in 1434, ana in the following year p was chosen Its Deputy Governor, in ,1 August, 1034, he was chosen Selectman ). of Boston and with his first wife, Eliza o L9th 'entley, he joined the orthodox d church in August of the year following, vi making a public profession of faith. ,t In 1641 he was chozen Governor in op r- position to Winthrop, and was chosen if again in 1054 and again in 1000, after 11 the death of Endicott, continuing in o oillce for the remainder of his life, his death occurring December 7, 1072. In is 1004 he was made Major General, and le in that year the King sent four Con n missioners to regulate the affairs of the )r province, ordering ]3ellinghan and te others, who were obnoxious, to proceed to to England and answer accusations that )1 wore made against them in person. te His Majesty, however, is said to have p been appeased by the present of a ship I- load of masts. 0 But the peculiar matter in point oc it curred in the earlier part of Governor y Bellingham's Colonial career. ills first wife, who accompanied him from Eng I- land, died in 1638. There had been in y- the family ' before this occurance at il young woman named Penelope Pelham, t- whose position appears to have been )i that of housekeeper or assistant in 0 household matters. After Mrs. Boll 8 ingham's death the continuance of this l young woman in the Governors's house hold was the occasion, of considerable k. gossip.. To his other. dignities .Govev nor.B3llinghamadded-that-of Judge or I Magistrate for the trial of oauses, and d this gossip so scandalized thb Court 1e that it was decided to dispose him from I his position. This was in 1041, when '- his housekeeper was but 20 years of age. But he refused to leave the Bench, and the Grand Inquest present 9 ed him for-breach of order of the Court, 11 and the Secretary called him to answer e the presentation. d Being Governor as well as Judge, he e was not an easy subjbet to handle. However, in deference to publio opin ? ion and no doubt as a-matter of policy, lie called together the ministers and 1 some of his people, Inviting them to his D house, and there in the presence, bring Sing Penelope forward, lie introduced 3 her to-them saying: "This is my wire, but I will have no law tibout it. God 3 is'enough for me and her." 3 This wvas all the marriage ceremony ,vouchsafed by the Governor, and ap joars to have been acquiesced in by the community, for lie was never after trou a bled about It. HIe was not a godless man, but rather a strong church mem~ i)er. Uis second wife, so strangely wed, is said to have borne him six children, who how'ever, died young. His relig ious peculiarities may be seen In part i)by his will, which provides thist, after I the decease of hisu wife and of his son ti)y the first wife and his granddaughter, the bulk of his estate should be spenxt ) for the yearly maintenance "of goodly ) ministers and l)reachors" of the true L' church, which ho considered to be that of the Congregatibonalists. His sister SAnnie, widowv of Williamn Hibbins, one of his assistants, was executed as a witch in June, 1050. Though latitudina [ rian enough on the subjeot of his own 4 ) marriage Governot Bellingham was - Iviolently opposed to Innovation In relig ious matters, and was exceedingly so vore towards the Quakers, who afirm, says Drake, that be died distracted. At a Turkish Weddicing. Turkish wedding festivities last seyd eral days, during which Gypsy dancing girls and musicians entertain hosts o1 women at the home of the bride's par ents. Much frivolity is indulged In, ' much cigai'ette smoking and coffee drlinking, swarrms of. beggars are fed and bakshished at the door, and many presents received and given. But all this time.the expectant young Turk has never set eyes on his intended. 'Alf the begmtning of the festivities porters come to lisa father's house bearing the. bulky trousseau of t,he bride, for the Turkish custom is for the bride and her belong ings to be brought to the home of her husband. Quests begin at once to dis tribute the articles of the -trousseau about the bridal chamber, d> as to show everything oft to the best advantage. Fiest.ivities are contIiuu(d at both houses. On thie third day friends o' tho bride-groom proceed in a body to ths house of the biride, a;nd on the sixth the bride Is conducted to the hiouse et her husband, wh4re he stauids athe 4oor to receive her. vel -