Newspaper Page Text
THE NUN ON THE BATTLE-FIELD.
AN INCIDENT OP THIS FRANCO-l'ltU88IAN WAtt. Dead on tho corpso-str?\vii battle plain, Whciv war's dread works is dono. fjbo lies, amid tho he:i of Blaiu, Tho pure and holy mm. J3ho Raw tho stricken soldior fall, 'Sfn And, era tho strifo was o'er, Hho rushed, unheeding blodo or ball, rJV stanch his flowJuggoro •it gently riiiso his dropping bend* To cool hie Hps of flame, To wlnoper, oro his spirit flod, The Savior's holy namo And on from ono to cno to paw, Mids't th0H0 who, living yot, Lay groaning on the crimson grass Their Htrouming blood had wot With Hointly lovo and tonrfornosu Their suffering hearts to aid "Whate'or tho color of tho dro3s nironyh which their wounds woro mado, A.nd whatever form of speech They prayod to God above— ^nto thoir dying lips to reach TIJO emblem of His lovo. lint, ah! the battle's thundering swell Had not rolied far away And stii! tho murdering missile foil Where dead and dying lay Bullet!., ill-sped, came whittling by, Hugcstiots toro up tho ground, And shell, like meteors from on high, Spread fresh destruction round. Eho fluiched not when thoy huriod past, Nor turned hor head aside. But when hor own death caino at last fihe blessod hor God and diod. —7*. D. Sullivan, in New York Tablet, A LEAF FROM LIFE. •I BY MAXIM. JJ. C'llOC'KElt. Hanging on either piilc of the long mir ror, in the silting-room, wore two small arayons, done by her in (he sweet slindowy fiiuit nlic But opposite tlieni now, with a «Tent basket of mending before her, and a strange tugging pain at her heart. Poor Mrs. Delay mi, the aprons with the rents in them, *nd the shirts with the buttons off them, •were tiresome affairs, and soon dropped al together from the weitrv hands, wandering .-umlessly over the chaos. Leaning her head back on the bright cre lono tidy, she let her eyes rove around the lileasnnt apartment. The hot August sun WiW shut out by the long veranda with its ivy curtain, and the breeze slipped softly in throiich the open window, and tenderly Kissed the flushed face. The tiek-tock of 4ho clock in tho next room came to her, lulling her in its own way that another wearisome day of toil was on the wane. "Ah! me she heaved a sigh something like content, only who was not contented, hardly—"it must be weariness yes, it must bo weariness." She closed her eyes to ihink. This was not the place for her, she "with her talent, her love for the beautiful. The great rebellions longing of her cultured •sonl beat against its narrowed limits, as the road breakers beat the shingly shore, only more sullenly perhaps. Beally this was not tho place for her—yes it was here were lior husband and children. AVhat should they do without mother? what should she lo without them? Sometimes in the mad longing for art for which nature had so Imantifully fitted her, and from which she seemed so permanently stfut out, she had thought for the moment sho could do £ncly. fiho opened her eyes and her glance Tested on the two crayons, on which the evening light was falling dimly and aslant, giving them a far-away, weird look. One waa a castle with huge frowning battle ments, something after King Arthur's time, :»nd a mountain torrent rushing at its foot •the other was a tranquil moon-light scene, a river and bit of quiet country, from iricturesque valley of her native State of .Maine. There was a quiver of the tine mouth, rind the eyes filled with tears as it all came to her for the thousandth time this being *bnt out from nil her soul craved of the •Irue and beautiful this being shut in with all that made life one monotonous burden, and the castle and the valley receded dimly -before a torrent of tears. Back into the jiaHl receded the pictures into the pleasant memories of tlw sunny year* when life was worth the living. There was no out burst of grief—only a sinking back into he chair, a closing of the eves, and a rest less movement of the shift* "-'~-omong the mending. 3 Jir.t of course it was all over and done, long ago—yes, twenty-four years ago—but the old tugging pain at her heart annoyed lier yet. Did she really long to forget, and strive for the impossible? No! she did not waul to forget. To go back through the •wesirisome vista of years to him as he was llieu, to herself as she- used to be, was all that remained, as a sweet glimpse of life •as it should have been, as it would have been, had sho not been sold for a price— bow sho hated tho wealth that had made Iter wholo womanhood a curse! Her hus band, well he was as companionable as any grasping worshipper of gold, who de tested all the accomplishments so dear to a eultnred person of refined sensibilities, could be but tho love his wife had vainly promised she should give, and receivc, had mot been attainable. No, tho oasis in the •desert of lier married life had only been a mirage, aud that, too, had almost disap jioarcd. And then the crayons well, yes, she re membered how, when she found her mar «ir.ge a bitter disappointment, she had put iLctn away, upstairs in tho attic at home, bnned them with tho sunny dreams of .ambition, in 'whose lialo they rested, deep in the recesses of her father's great leather covered trunk, th.it had come over from bouuio Scotland, and had been consigned to the lumbering old attic. She told herself, bitterly, that in after years, when sho was dead, they would find Ibeso much-loved heirlooms, hei precious -crayons, with lier name in the left-hand lower corner, and pel haps they would •understand. Totn Vernon would, if per cb&uce he found Ihcui, for had he not in those halcyon days, told her that she ave & great promise of being famous as an artist and perhaps Tom might find them—who could tell? But even this spice of romance was de nied her. for in after years the children— her own bright, promising girls—ou a visit to grandmother's, had on a rainy day re sorted to the garret, and resolving them selves into a committee on investigation, had unearthed the hidden treasures. Grandmother had told them they were some of "their mother's foolishness," whereat they had been so delighted to find that mother had really been an artist, that they carried them home in great glee. Father had said they "were silly to go into extneies over two black daubs like those," but the children had them framed and hung in the silling room, because they were their mother's, and mother had made no objection. Little did the fair-hailed daughters dream that all of the beauty, all of the joy ous delightful hop's and tender day dreams of gentle-voiced mother, hung like a glorious memory, around those precious pictures. They had no romanco of their own as yet. and why should they guess at mother's secret. Edua, the eldest, gave promise of inher iting her mother's tasle aud aptitude for art, and it was meat and drink to the fond mother to watch and foster the inclination of her daughter in that direction she should not be sold for gold if a mother's bitter experience availed anything. The shadows were creeping over tho lawn, nud Lucille, the youngest daughter, came into the sitting-room for a song in the twilight, on the sweet-toned organ, all her own mother was there, and mother loved songs in the twilight hour. But mother was fast asleep in the arm-chair, with a sad, weary look on her patient face, aud her tired hands folded over the torn a]irons so instead of the song, she stole softly out for fear of waking her. "Mamma was so tired—always so weary these days, and now she was resting, so there would be no song to-night." Later, Edna slipped into the room, where the pale moonlight crept through the win dow bars, aud rested lovingly on the fine features of the sleeper. "Poor tired mother!" Stooping, she pressed a fond kiss on the upturned face but no answering caress, no soft-beaming eyes, no hand clap of mother's in return, aud the daughter started back in horror, with a wail bursting from her ashen lips. Mother was dead! They said she "died of heart disease." In this they were right the tugging pain at her heart had finally done its work, and the mistake of a life-time had faded, before the grand and beautiful eternal.—Chicago Ledger. WHAT TIX FOIL IS. It may not be generally known 'that tin foil, as now so widaly known to the trade, is not a foil of tin alone, but com posed mainly of lead, with but a slight alloy of tin. The manifold appliance of tin foil to articles of consumption and medicine is not regulated with any law such as exists in European coun tries, forbidding the use of lead or com position, or otherwise impure tin foil, in all cases where it may, through ox idation or contact with the goods, be come poisonous and injurious to the health of the consumer. Too little at tention has been paid to this subject thus far. It is to be hoped that igno rance and not wilful oversight of tho facts has led many manufacturers and dealers to use an article accompanied with such risks for the saka of saving a trifle in the cost. Besides this saving is, in most instances, imaginary, as the German pure tin foil combines such a fineness and large yield, with rela tively great softness and strength, that it will practically answer most pur poses, and not cost more than an equal surface of the lightest composition foil, while the heavier grades of the latter will be much more expensive to use. The yield of the regular German tin foil is Beauty-two square feet, or 10, 368 square inches per pound a heavier "s^rade yields sixty-six square feet. The Wheedled into marriage, w*£S^V ^fleets are of large size, and waste in fJJ a. vain, foolisli mother, itnrutting Mfjmed she was doing a very good pit lier daughter, in catching so wealthy i! husband for her, Aurillia Talmage had been repenting at leisure for uiauy years, of the slop she had taken. Jjove would come after awhile." her mother had said, but the love had not come someway it lingered in the dreamy past lingered tenderly with the memory of Tom Veraon. Handsome, manly Tom Vernon, .• -who now possessed a beautiful home on the Hudson, and a lovely wife to gladden its magnificent rooms. She never thought of him now more •.liaii she could help. Then he was poor, and on account of his poverty she had buj len her heart be still, and sent him away 5 from her side. What had been her rccom pease for so great a sacrifice, the sacrifice of two young hearts? Simply this unbear able joke of being sold for gold—for greed and gain. All the good, the sunshine, aud .•poetry had gone with Tom. How he had loved her once, and she had loved him i9 consequently small IS Alt OS THE DEAR (1I11LS. "That ring," said the jeweler, as the reporter picked up a seven-stono clus ter diamond, "will cost you $12. If you return it within six months you will receive a robate of $5." "What! Only $12 for a cluster diamond ring!" exclaimed the astonished scribe. "I said $12," was the calm reply. "Here (lifting out another tray) is the mate to it—price $180." "Enlighten me," pleaded the reporter. "I will al though it is odd that you havn't caught on to this little game. The American is a hustler in all things. If ho falls in love he goes with the same rush that would characterize a business trans action. He wants to be engaged and have the day set, but in perhaps three cases out of ten his ardor cools before the fatal day arrives, and he 'throws' tho match." "I see." "He has given the girl an engagement ring. He can scarcely muster up the cheek to ask for its return, and the chances are that he wouldn't get it if he did. This clus ter diamond ring at $12 iills a want long felt. The gold plating will wear for six months, and the paste diamonds will sparkle and glisten for about the same length of time. If at the end of six months ho discovers that his feel ings have changed ho breaks off the match, and is little or nothing out of pocket. If time has only welded his love the firmer, so to speak, he gets the spurious ring from her to have their initials engraved on the inside, and comes here and exchanges it for the simon puro. See It is a little trick of our own but the jewelers ol Boston, Philadelphia and other cities are catching on and stealing our cus tomers."—Neic York Sun. livexed up. Man (to unknown other man)—"This is the slowest affair I ever saw." Other mon—"Yes it is rather slow." Man—"If I knew where the wine was kept, hang me if I wouldn't 'liven up a bit." Other man (graciously)—"Here's the key to the cellar. Come along, it's all right I am the master of the house."— Philadelphia Call. LET a man be treated as a brute, and he will become more brutish than a brute but as a rational being, and he will show that }ie is so. MOTHER JSA11TU. TTcr Ability to Fml ami Clothe AH Tier Children. The absolute calamity of man should come only when the population of tho world is too large for the pro ductive power of all tho soil. Some land must bo set aside for supporting buildings, some for roads and streets, some for the growth of cotton, flax,and wool tho immense remainder is avail able for the growth of food. Should the human family outgrow the clothing and grain ureas of tho planet then hard times would be a necessity. But while the earth shall continue abundantly able to feed and clothe all its children, poverty is an accident and not a neces sity. Only a small part of the globe is cultivated, and much of that has been cultivated in the poorest possible man ner. Even in the United States, where farming is yearly becoming a science, thero is almost as much land in the Middle States to be reclaimed as there is in the far West to be opened for the first time to cultivation. Virginia, Kentucky, Ohio, Indiana, and nearly all the South, compose ono largo ex ample of an agriculture but little bet ter than that of Turkey or Palestine. As to its power to produce food and clothing for man, Earth is still as fresh and able as sho was 10,000 years ago. If any memliors of the human myriads are short of food and clothing the fault is in the occupaut of tho world and not in the globe itself. Our troubles would pass away if a few mil lions of tlioso who have no pay for work would do that kind of work for which the soil would be paymaster. How can carpenters secure pay when there are not enough men who need carpentors? How can weavers secure wages "when wo all have tho fabrics we need How can tho Irishman's shovel find work and pay when the railroads are built and the money for cleaning gutters is all spent? How can all the clerks find work when there are'ten'clerks for each eight-by-ten-store or ofiice? How can all the teachers find schools when there are ten teachers for each cour.try schocl-houso Whon thero are no men to make any payment for our form of labor then we must turn aside from man as our pay master and ask Nature to be the em ployer. That is, instead of bartering our "school-teaching," or our "weav ing," or our "clerking," or our "brick making" for corn, wheat, and potatoes, we must turn to the ground ard raise them. If wo cannot barter for bread and meat we must grow them. Unable to buy any land we must rent some acre or acres, for we must live, and thero is life in the ground. Virginia comprises 24,000,00) of acres of land, of which 8,000,000 are under cultivation. Assnming that there is one more third capable of be ing cultivated, wo have 8,000,000 of acres under one of the best skies in the world, waiting for humanity to come to them for food, shelter, and clothing. And yet in that very State there will be found ten "darkies" to the small village who are expecting money to come from whitewashing among houses which do not believe in the art, and ten other darkies will be found hoping for a revenue from blacking shoes in places where the men go barefooted. But how do these whitewashing "dark ies" of the South differ from the whites in the North, who desire to bo book agents in towns where shot-guns and cross-dogs are awaiting the canvasser? How difi'er from the whites who wish to shovel a hundred tons of coal for the family which has had difficulty in pay ing for a few baskets full of "little egg?" Virginia would supply a bountiful table for a million of these hopeless seekers of something from nothing. Going to the land for support they would find how much better it is to expect something from something. Ohio could tako a million, Indiana a million of these persons who are carry ing some form of industry for which there is no demand. In Paris there was no reason for a procession headed by a girl carrying on a ban ner the ominous word, "Broad." Thero industry had long been defrauded by political crime. But in America, where industry has made great blun ders only, and has mado ten clerks to ono farmer, and ten girl-canvassers fox one girl-gardner or girl-farmer, the procession ought to march once again, and should carry once more tho device, "Bread," but the march should move with music toward tho idle fields where bread is wont to grow. For a thousand years to come, if the climates of the earth remain what they are to-day, the agricultural life will stand as a refuge for millions who may desire to flee from a social wrath to came.—Prof. JJavid, Swing, in the Current. A CALLAXT TIHU'Sll. A young Highlander, having set a horse-hair naose in tho woods, was de lighted one morning to find a female song thrush entangled therein. He car ried home his prize, put it into a roomy open-braided basket, secured the lid with much string and many knots, and then hung the extemporized cage upon a nail near the open window. In the ifternoon the parish minister was called in by the boy's mother, who wished him to persuade her son to set the captive free. While the clergy man was examining the bird through tho basket, his attention was called to mother thrush perched on a branch opposite the window. "Yes," exclaimed the boy, "and it followed me home all the way from the woods." It was the captive's mate, which, hav ing faithfully followed his partner to hor prison, had perched himself where he might see her, and she hear the sad broken notes that chirped his griitf. The clergyman hung the basket against the eave of the cottage, and the two retired to see what might hap pen. In a few minutes the captive whispered a chirp to her mate's com plaint. His joy was unbounded. Springing to the topmost spray of the tree, lie trilled out two or three exul» tant notes, and then alighted on the basket-lid, through the hole in which the captive had thrust hor head and neck. Then followed a touching scene. Tho male bird after billing and cooing with tho captive, dressing her feathers and stroking lier neck, all the while fluttering his wings, and crooning an undersong of eneonragement, sudden ly assumed another attitude. Gather ing up his wings, he erected himself, and began to peok and pull away at tho edges of the hole in the basket's lid. The bird's ardent affection, and his effort to release his mate, touched clergyman, mother and boy. "I'll let tho bird go!" said he in a sympathetic voice, as he saw his mother wiping her eyes with her apron. The basket was carried to tho spot where the bird had been snared. The cock thrust followed, sweeping oc casionally close past the boy carrying the oasket, and chirping abrupt notes, as if assuring his mate that he was still near her. On arriving at tho snare the clergyman began untying the many in tricate knots which secured the lid, while the cock bird, perched on a hazel bough, not six feet away, watched, silently, and motionless, the process of liberation. As soon as the basket lid was raised the female thrust dashed out, with a scream of terror and joy, while the male followed like an arrow shot from a bow, and both disappeared behind a clump of birch trees. It was an excellent lesson for the boy, one which he never forgot— Youth's Com panion. JCA TCHA TJCA. The hills are cqyered with forests of fir, larch, cedar, birch, and in theeo aro found numerous wild animals, such as the fur sable, the otter, foxes of all colorB, and the bear, which latter, on accouut of the great supply of food, attacks neither man nor the domestic animals. It is curious to note that tho squirrel, which is universal in Siberia, is not found here at all. Swans and wild ducks are found in great quanti ties in the lakes and marshes of the interior and their eggs, as well as the birds themselves, are taken in great numbers by the people. The fish, which throng the rivers in enormous numbers in the Summer, form the prin cipal food of the natives. For the most part thoy are salmon, and are dried and stored up for the winter but owing to the scarcity and dearness of salt, the fish frequently become rotton, and the people suffer great privation. Tho rigor of winter is much softened by warm ocean currents, which create those thick continuous fogs that ren der the coast so dangerous to naviga tion. The total population of both sexes is put down at only 6,500 souls but owing to the total absence of agri culture, and to the primitive methods adopted for preserving food for winter, these are fre quently in a state of semi-starvation. For all except bare food thoy have to look abroad—clothes, utensils, tea, to bacco—and these they purchase by means of their fur sable, which is un equalled in any other part of the world. About 5,000 of these skins are sold each year at 15 to 20 rubles each. At the beginning of tho present cen tury cattle were introduced from Ir kutsk, and, owing to the excellent grass and water, would have thriven well but on account of lack of indus try or energy on the part of the na tives, it was found to be impossible to lay in suflicient stores of fodder in winter. The question whether agri culture is possible in the peninsula lias never yet been answered. Markets ex ist in tho ports of eastern Siberia, which are at present supplied with such articles as salt meat, butter, cloth, and hides from San Francisco. The main obstacle to agriculture is the ex cessively damp and constantly foggy climate. The sun seldom shines, and does not, therefore, give enough warmth for the growth of rye and wheat. The trade ia almost wholly with California and, as there is little or no money there, it is carried on by a system of exchange, the navives otter ing their sable skins in return for such goods as they require.—Nature. TIIE HOOT HL AC ICS BOSS PROVERB. A lady had a class of newsboys at a mission school with whom she labored hard. She did not try to drum the Bible into them, for she knew that their minds must be brought, through a sensible course of training, to under stand its precepts, which I consider was a very level-headed view of the subject. One Sunday she addressed them as follows: "Now, boys, next Sunday, I want each one of you to bring me a slip of a paper with a proverb written ou it, or apiece of good advice. If you hear any one say anything nice, write it down and bring it to me next Sunday, will you "Yes'm," they replied in chorus. The next Sunday the boys came with their pieces of paper with some terri ble scrawls on thom, but the lady man aged to read them. One said: "Do unto other fellers like you'd want him to do unto me." "Another said: "Speech is silver, sileuce is golden." Another said: "A penny saved is two cents earned." Then she struck ono that she couldn't read. "Whose is this one?" she asked. "That's mine, mum, that's the boss one," replied a red-headed boy, who was always sticking pins in the other boys. "Will you read it for me she asked, handing the paper to the boy. He took it and read: "Tork is cheap, but it takes munny to buy whiskey."— Brooklyn Times. The Gazette des Hopiteaux de scribes the case of a woman who drank a pint of kerosene. The dose nearly killed her, and she was saved only nf ier great suffering and an active and severe treatment prolonged for ten days. THE CHILDREN Some Interesting Reading for the Juvenile Students. GOOD ADVICE TO LITTtZ MEN. Varied Infornation Relating to Ants and Flies—Story of a Cunning Cat, Etc. Careful Little Man, Yi'hat you do, my littlo man, Do with all your might Help the feeblo whon you can, Stand for tho truth and right. Bo a valiant solrlior in This brief lifo of caro Thoy who act as heroes win, And tho triumph share. "What you hoar, iny littlo man, That is wrong to know, Let this ever bo your plan— Trt at it as a foe. Do not let a word go forth From your lips BO Btrong That could count of littlo worth, Or would shiold wrong. iVhat you BOO, my littlo man, That no eye should soe. Do not fora moment ncau, Though it fair may be. It is safo to turn away From tho tempting sight, So your foot may overstay In tho path of right. What you say, my little man, Let it truthful bo /his will bo your wiRost plan, Keep from slauder frou. Stop and think boforo you speal^j It i:i best, you know. Haste makes waste, the wrong arc Weak- Learn to travel slow. —C. Z. Miller, 3F. D. How to Keep Your lloom. A look into the chamber of a boy or girl will givo one an idea of what kind of a man or woman ho or she will prob ably become. A boy who keeps his clothes hung up neatly, or a girl whoso room is always neat, will be ap'tto make a successful man or woman. Order and neatness nre essential to our com fort, as well us that of others about us. A boy who throws down his cap or book anywhere will never keep his accounts in shape, will do things in a slovenly, careless way, and not to be long wanted in any position. A girl who does not make her bed until after dinner—and she should always do it herself, rather than have a servant do it—and throws her dress or bonnet down on a chair, will mako a poor wife in nine eases out of ten. If the world could see how a girl keeps her dressing-room, many un happy marriages would be saved. The Star-Fish. When walking on the sea beaeh, you may often see a curious object lying on the sand, somewhat in the shape of a star with five rays. If you take it up it is quite limp and soft, and seems like apiece of semi-transparent jelly. Can such a creature feel Does it move about? It cannot walk with its rays, and appears to have no means of swimming but if you place it in a pool of salt water, you will soon see that it has both life and motion. It shoots out from the under side a number of little suckers, like tiny legs, and with these it takes hold of the surface of the rock, and moves along rather as though it were swimming than walking. Its mouth is in the center, and if it meets with a piece of tainted fish, it clasps it between its rays and crams it into its mouth. It feeds only on the refuse of the ocean, and so the star-fi sh acts a part in the water, something simular to that of the carion crow on land. Thus everything created has its use, and serves some purpose in the economy of nature.— Original Chatterbox. A Shrewd Cat. One day the cook in a monastery, when he laid the dinnor, fount fine brother's portici of meat missing. He supposed that he had miscalculated, made good the deficiency, and thought of it no more till the next day, when he had again too little at dinner-time by one monk's commons. He suspected knavery and resolved to watch for tho thief. On the third he was quite sure that he had his meat cut into the right number of portions, aud was about to dish up, when he was called off by a ring at the outer gate. When he came back there was .gain a monk's allow ance gone. Next day he again paid special heed to his calculations, and when he was on the point of dishiDgup again there was a ring at the gate to draw him from the kitchen. He went no further than the outside of the kitchen door, when he saw that the cat jumped in at the window, and went out again in an instant with apiece of meat Another day's watching showed that it was tho cat, also, who, by leaping up at it, set the bell ringing with her paws, and thus having, as she supposed, pulled the cook out of the kitchen, made the coast clear for her own pirati cal proceedings. The monks then set tled it in conclave that the cat should be left thus to earn for the remainder of her days double rations, while thoy spread abroad the story of her cunning. So they obtained many visitors, who paid money for good places from which to see the little comedy, and they grew richer for the thief they had among them. Jlotr the Ant/* and Jytie» Lier. The ants live in communities and build cities, some above and some un der the ground, and have different work for different members of the communities, and actually keep ser vants, which are generally unfortunate ants that have been captured in war, for the ants are great fighters, and in stead of following the peaceful trade of confectioners, like bees, have trained armies, with regular officers, and plun der their neighbors and fight fierce bat tles with them. There are terrible ants in South America, and in Africa, that go out on foraging expiditions— "visiting ants"—though it is a reflec tion on visitors generally to call them •o. Everybody flies from the honse as thay approach it—many thousands of them together—and when they leave not a living thing remains. They eat up the.rats, the family cot and dog, the canary bird, and all the chickens, unlesss they are smart enough and ac tive enough to get out of the way. Did you ever see a fly washing his face? Listen to the description of how he does it. "With a contempt for the looking glass he brushes himself up and wab bles his little round head, chuck full of vanity, wherever he happens to be. Sometimes, after a long day of dissi pation and flirting, with his six small legs and little round body, all soiled with syrup and butter and cream, ho passes out of the dining-room and wings his way to the clean, white cord, along which the morning glories climb, and in this retired spot, heedless of the crafty spider that is practicing gym nastics a few feet above him, he pro ceeds to purify and sweeten himself for refreshing repose and soft dreams of the balmy summer night, so neces sary to one who is expected to be early at breakfast. "It is a wonderful toilet Eesting himself on his front and middle legs, he throws his hind legs over his body, binding down his frail wings for an in stant with the pressure, then raking them over with a backward motion, which he repeats until they are bright and clean. Then he pushes the two legs under the wings, giving that queer structure a thorough currying, every now and then throwing, the legs out nnd rubbing them together to re move what he has collected from his corporeal surface. Next he goes to work upon his van. Besting on his hind and middle legs, he raises his two forelegs and begins a vigorous scrap ing of his head and shoulders, using his proboscis every little while to push the accumulation from his limbs. At times he is so energetic that it seems as if he were trying to pull his head off, but no fly ever committed suicide. Some of his motions very much resemble those of pussy at her toilet. It is plain, even to the naked eye, that he does his work thoroughly, for when he has finished, he looks like a new fly, so clean and neat has he made himself within a few minutes. The white cord is defiled, but floppy is himself again, and he bids the morning glories a very good evening." Did you ever see any amber Per haps your father has a mouthpiece to his meerschaum pipe or cigar holder, which is of a pale yellow color, and almost as clear as glass— that is amber or your mother may have a bracelet or necklace of the same material. Well, sometimes insects are caught in amber and embalmed, so that they last forever. Would it not be curious to see a spider a hundred or more years old, or a fly two hun dred? Amber is the hardened gum of a tree. You have seen the soft gum from cherry, peach, and sweet gum trees, and can see how an insect might have had a wing or leg caught, and, failing to get free, have been buried in a fresh flow of the gum. But I must stop, without telling you of the numerous family spiders, about the the fireflies, and many other interesting members of the insect family. THE 1RA VEl'ARD AT OU JiET. There on that knoll |s the ancient necropolis of You Bet and the camps around, and there within its precincts have been gathered many of the early inhabitants of these pioneer towns. Though the hues of ruin have crept over the place, the ground itself, al most everywhere the case with these old graveyards, remains intact You will say it is to the credit of the min ers that these homes of the dead have been so generally respected. Not especially so. In looking for a spot of sepulture, the early miner was apt to select some rocky ridge or knoll which stood apart from diggings, and which, being snpposed to contain little or no gold, he had reason to think would never be disturbed. Had it ever been found that they contained pay dirt, these consecrated grounds would have been attacked and run off to bed-rock long ago.—Henry Be Groot. IXFOJtMATlOS fOlt THE PROFESSOR. Old Professor Gasaway, one night last week, was disturbed by the ring ing of his door bell. Hastily envelop ing his figure in a dressing-gown he threw open a window, and, sticking out his head, asked what was the cause of the disturbance. "The burglars are bad, and we only wanted to tell you that one of your windows is open." "Which one," he asked, an xiously. "The ono you liav-o got your head stuck put of, Professor," replied the students in chorus."—Texan Sif tings. GROUXliS FOR DIVORCE. "Say, boss," said a colored man to a justice of the peace, "1 wants a 'vo'ce frum my wife." "On what wounds ?M "On de groun' sah, dat she's not do right sort o' a 'oman." "What has she done?" "W'y sah, we got inter a 'spute de oder night an' I sorter tapped her on de head wider poker an' she told me she didn't think I was no gen'leman. A 'oman whut says dat ter me can't eat outen de same pot dat I does?" Stockton Maverick. A PECULIAR XA3IE. Dumley (who had just been intro duced to Miss Doddclum)—You have rather a peculiar name, Miss Dodd clum. I never heard it but once be fore. I had some business communi cation with a man of that name in Peoria, 111., and precious rascal he proved to be, too. Did I understand Mrs. Hendricks to say you were from Boston, Miss Doddclum? Miss Doddclum—No, air I am licm Peoria, 111.—NewYork Sun. A FINE lady is a squirrel-headed thing, with small airs and small no tions about as applicable to the busi ness of life as a pair of tweezers to the clearing of a forest.— George Eliot. THE PARAGRAPHERS. THE lost caws—A dead crow. A STALE joke's age—saws-age. FISH yarns ore always twisted. WHEN a roller-skater's fe.-t slip h» makes a baso sit.—Texas St flings. THE spendthrift has a future before him. That's the reason he so persis tently borrows from it—Barber's Ga zette. A NEW YOKK doctor lias patented a New Jersey mosquito. Ho usos it for a hypodermic syringe."— Newman In dependent. GKOCEHS tire better men than milk men. The latter always take water, but the former have lots of sand. Texas Siftings. EVERY man who cannot run his own business will be found trying to con trol the affairs of his neighbor.-^ While Hall Times. "An, that's a grave mistake," re| marked the boss resurrectionist wlie his assistant dug into the wrong hole. —Merchant Traveler. "WHY is it," she asked, "that stolen kisses are always sweetest?" "I guess, he replied, "is is bocause thoy are taken 9yrnp-titiouslj"."—Boston Courier. SILENCE e. may be golden, but tho wo man who has her teeth filled talks just as much as though sho hadn't any gold at her tongue's end.—St. Paul Herald. Do NOT measure a man by tho length of his funeral procession. A lone hearse often contains the remains of a very decent man. Carl Prelzel Weekly. POETEY is a trick of words. Millions of poems have struggled for utterance and died upon tho lips. Millions more have found a tongue but not an ear. Indianapolis Herald. "MATCHES are mado in heavon, is an old saying, but ono would judge from the smell of tho red-head matches now in use that they were made in the other place.—Brooklyn Time••. MANY actors nre obliged to wear a button under the tongue to keep from laughing, but the man who comes within one figure of scooping the capital priiie in a lottery finds no difli sulty in repressing hilarity.—Chicago Ledger. "Yon certainly do not beliovu there is a real devil?" "I certainly do." "Then I dare say yon have strong ground for thinking so." "Indeed I have. The fact is, I've seen "Not the devil?" "Oh, no but I've seen a small boy teasing his sister.—Chicago Ledger. A SAD CASE. Late from tho lodge tho husband cnine. Lato and with Ktaggering step cam1.) he Ho found tho door which boro his name, But found no keyhole for his key. Ho darod not ring, tho luckless wight His wife's fierce ttmporwoll ho knew So ho el* pt upon tho stops ull night, And tho chill wind through his whiskors blew. —Boston Courier. BAKON TENNYSON WE lias three homes. This is the difference between the poet laureate and American poets who build verses for patent medicines. There may be another difference, but it can not be detacted in the quality of their respective productions evolved during the past two or three years.—Norrin town Herald. never noticed how much poetry, muBic, Platonism, and spiritual refine ment of beauty thero is in a girl until we hear her play ono of Chopin's de lirious waltzes on tho piano, while her mother is mangling a shirt in tho wash house and the old man is putting anew seat in his pants in tho woodshed.— Fall River Advance. "I SEE that the Pope is writing an other book," said Mrs. Pugmire, look ing up from her paper. "I've got his Essay on Man, and if the new book is as good as that, we must have a copy." And then she musingly repeated: "Lo, the poor Indian, whose untutored mind sees God in clouds, and hears Him in the wind."—Peck's Sun. "I'VE earthly goods onough," said ho "I've glittering gold galore, I've koramics and bric-a-brac And jowols by tho score But oh 1 with all my worldly goods, 1 feel a longing still There is, my dearest maid, a blank That you alono can fill." "Ablank? Thank heaven I* tho maiden cried "Papa's insolvent now, And if your credit at the bank Is what they all allow, Just make the paper out to mo And sign it with a will, And I will provo the same a blank, That lean quicklyfllL" —Yonkers Gazette. SUXDA Y.SCITOOL ITEM. "What is meant by the expression 'Keep your armor bright?' asked the Sunday-school teacher. "I think it means that we ought to keep our conscience clear," replied the largest boy in the class. "That is correct as far as it goes said tho teacher. "We should keep our armor like polished steel. Now, Johnny," she continued, addressing the smallest boy in the class, who was throwing paper wads at the superin tendent, "how can you keep your con science bright" "By greasin' it with bacon-rind" answered Johnny, who had watched his father grease a buck saw. New man Independent. LEROSE. No article of commerce varies more widely in its market price than whale bone. In January it mav sell for $" a pound, and in the following June for $5 a pound. Twenty-five years ago the price was 75 cents a pound. It varies according to the catch, and this in turn depends on the luck of the whalers. If hey find the whaling grounds closed by ice, meet with shipwreck, or for any reason fail to kill whales, the price will go up. This makes it a very spec uUUve business, and the dealers never tell what their stock is worth until they get news of the catch. As ounce of mother, says~the Span- THE population "of Ireland H«« d«- creased in forty-five years 3,200,000.