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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.
