Newspaper Page Text
My dreams, like 3hips that went to sea, And got becalmed in sunnier climes, No more returned, are lost to me, Faint echoes of those hopeful times; And I have learned, with doubt oppressed? There are no birds in next year's nest. The seed is sowed in balmy spring, The summer's sun to vivity, "With his warm kisses ripening To golden harvests by and by, Got caught by drought, like all the rest? There are no bird's in next year's nest The stock I bought at eighty-nine Broke down at once to twenty-eight; 8omo squatters jumped my silver mine, My own convention smashed my slate; No more in futures Til invest? There are no birds in next year's nest. ?Burdette, in Brooklyn Eagle. EMELINE'S SCHOOL. She was the dullest scholar who attended the school. The teacher said so. mo parucumr lusiuuuuu nuitu auc attended, was a little brick-red schoolhouse in the Territory of Dakota. Perhaps there is more than one such educational edifice in the Territory of Dakota, but I can't be more definite because that is about all I know concerning- it myself. Her name was Emeline, Fancher, usually called Em Fancher, or sometimes Emma Fancher, or perhaps more frequently "old Fancher's gal'' and it was agreed by all that she never would know anything?not about her books?and the teacher was quite positive that that was all there was to learn in this world. Of course she learned other things readily enough and she could learn her , lessons as well if she wanted to, but she didn't want to?only on very rare occasions. It was said that she was famous to help her mother at home, and that she was somewhat better than her brothers in helping her father out-doors and that when it came to going after the cows on horseback or setting a trap wmcn woiuq invariably catch a muskrat. or other things of this nature, that she was enthusiastic and successful, but it didn't raise her much in the eyes of the community. She was always shockingly familiar with the teacher, a prim maiden lady who had been a district school teacher all her life and considered perfecting the multiplication table the highest achievement of man. During the noon hour this wayward scholar would sometimes take her seat on top of a desk near the teacher's corner and sit and swing her feet and ply her prim instructor with questions concerning the manners and customs and scenery j and natural products of different parts j of the country, and volunteer a bewil- j dering amount of information concerning ; the habits of the muskrat and the jackrabbit and the prospect for a good crop, j and her latest adventure while bringing j home the cows on her favorite pony. She would thus continue to shock Miss; Bacon,the pnm instructor, tillat last that i lady would be obliged to send her away j io self-defense. So Emeline went along for a couple of : years in the little brick-red schoolhouse. j Then she graduated. The exercises were j ?ot elaborate?in fact they could not have well been more simple. She piled j up her books and taking them under her j arm went home. To the astonished Hiss Bacon, who . demanded an explanation of her sudden j departure, she said: "I've learned enough and I am going j to quit." "What are you going to do at home ?" j ".Help ma and pa, I reckon." "But don't you know you are only | fifteen years of age and need to go to school more ?" "Oh, I s'pose so?that's what you're always telling me. But I gues-; I'll never j learn anything at school anyhow, so I'm going to quit. Pa and mi don't care j and von'll never see me at school anv- i J ~ ? I more, so good-by." She went out the i door, but turued and gave Miss Bacon a j parting shock by adding: "Come down i to our house Saturday and we'll go a- 1 fishing in Dry Lake?f know where there are some splendid young frogs for bait." But the worthy Miss Bacon could not reply?the idea of her adjusting a frog on a hook! So she did not go Saturday and did not see her late pupil. In fact two years passed and she only saw her : occasionally and then when going to or j from school she encountered her dashing > wildly along on her pony. One day when perhaps a little more than the time mentioned had elapsed, j Emma entered the school-house after j 6chool had closed and as Miss Bacon was j preparing to take her departure. She j was, in her own words, a "full-fledged young lady now,''and was certainly quite prepossessing in appearance, Miss Bacon i thought, compared with when she ligradu-. ated." She was not large, though per-j haps a little taller than the average [ young lady, and was as strong and ac- j tive as ever. She was dressed with more ; taste than formerly and evidently did ; not indulge in her wild and wayward . habits to so great a degree, though she naa tne oia gleam in ner eye wmcn teemed to tell that she could still ride j the pony as far and fast, or set a trap by | the lake with the same certainty of a , catch. "Miss Bacon," she said, "I'm going to j 6urprise you." ''Well," repliod that lady, "go on? j you have surprised me before." "Yes, I know." she said, laughing, j another way this time. You remember how I graduated?" "Yes, I believe that is what you termed it." "Well, there isn't any use of gradu- i ating unless it does you some good, is there?" "Certainly not." "That's what I thought, so I'm jroinsr i to teach school." "You a teacher!" exclaimed Miss Bacon. "Why, Emeline, how can you think of such a thing?" "Don't you think I can do it?" "Why, it doesn't really seem as if yon j w-ould be successful as a teacher. Where j are you going to teach?" "Oh, over in the other county. Ma , reckoned I couldn't get a certificate even l if I had studied some since I left here, but the superintendent was a nice young man. and I smiled at him and acted real sweet, and he gave me one with a pretty good Standing. I tvll you it made ma open her eyes." "You will teach the coming winter, then?" "Yes, got my school engaged. (Join;? to have thirty scholars, some big boys, too, and I'm going to make them stand around. If any of my scholars ever run away and act* like 1 used to I'll make them wish they hadn't." "Well, I hope you may have excellent success, and if I can do anything to assist you at any time, pray let me know." "Oh, I'm going to get along all right ?that's what I'm going over there for," and she gave her head a decided toss and walked away leaving Miss Bacon musing what might not happen in this world ol'constant surprises. A few weeks after, Emma went to her ] school. She found a boarding place I near at hand and settled down with the | determination to work hard and give the j best satisfaction that she possibly could. The first morning she was confronted by the usual array. They were all sizes, from those so small that the experienced teacher always put them down as having been sent by strategic mothers to get them out of the way at home, to the large boys she had spoken of to Miss Bacon, some of whom were not oulv larger than herself, but several years older as well; and one of them, Mr. i Edward Comstock, even grew particularly attentive to his tcacher. She was also met by the usual diversity j of text-books, those necessary auxiliaaies to a successful school, rangiug from the late N. Webster's able spelling book to the last work of some ambitious professor who hopes to tcach orthography without labor on the part of pupil or teacher with his new ''system''?the former volume having been the property of the grandfather" of the little urchin who brought it and the latter having come as a sample from the publishers to the direc| tor of the district who straightway armed his youngest son and heir with it, determined to give the work a trial before J recommending it. I Likewise there was the usual range of | studies. There was the little tot who I had yet to gain a speakiug acquaintance j with the alphabet, up to the ambitious I young man who aspired to algebra and ! an ornate style of penmanship, which ran to birds and spiral-spring O's. It must be confessed that in higher ! mathematics and pen-strokes which i swelled out at unexpected places our ! teacher was not altogether at home. , But she argued that these ambitious | voting men knew nothiug about it either, and therefore they could all, at least, ! start eveu. j Among the particularly bad boys was ! little Johnny Dutcher. whom Emma | found to be a particularly obstinate youth that no amount of moral suasion, "keep; in' in" at the noon hour or even corporal j punishment could woo from the error of his ways. Several weeks of school passed and Mr. Edward Comstock, the largest bev, remained attentive to Emma?but not more attentive than a pupil could judiciously be to his teacher. One day when the term was about half over she found it necessary to order little Johnny Dutcher to sit still in his scat and make the acquaintance of his lesson during the noon hour when the other children were engaged in a grand snow-balling match outside. Naturally this was the cause of much grief to little Johnny?missing the snow-balling match was purtly responsi ble for the distress, but being forced to come in contact with his lesson was the direct cause. Judging from the way he recited his lesson subsequently, it would have been hard to conceive how such a very slight introduction to it as he must have had could have caused him so much grief. But it did and Johnny went home plotting all manner of schemes for revenge. The next day little Johnny'3 father, Mr Dutcher, senior, called at the school and expressed his great displeasure at the way his promising son had been used. He was very awkward about it, and not half so warlike as his manner at first indicated. ' Wnt T -nrnnf. +o fifl-o- " evnlainpfl A1V Dutcher, "is that you 'bused my boy, an' as one o' the officers of this school deestrick I'm goin' to see if something can't be done 'bout it." "I never abused your boy," said Emma firailv. ,;Buthe says ye did. He says ye kep' him in at noon an' ree-cesses, an' it ain't good for his health?no, ma'am, it's very bad on his health?it's -wearin' on him now?he can't stand it 'thout no exercise." ' I only kept him in a few times, and it was because he never had his lessons." '"But he says he al'ays has his lessons, and that you al'ays keeps him in. An' then he tells me ye pounded him with a club." "Then he tells what isn't so, and you know it!" replied Emma, withemjjhasis, her anger rising. " One o'my boys lie? They don't never do no such thing?I brought 'em up different from that I'll hev you unnerstand! They tells the truth every time and ye did pound poor little Johnny with a club! Ye hain't no fit teacher fer a school an' I'm goin' to see ef I can't get ye turned out and some'un in as can learn the scholars an not pound 'em!" "Sha'n't I put him out?" asked Edward Comstock, coming forward. "Yes," she said in a tone which showed that she would have done it herself if she had been able. Then there followed a very lively though short encounted in which Mr. Dutcher got picked up and dropped a couple of times, stepped on once and finally thrown out through the door into a large snowbank, all of which feats were accomplished by Edward Comstock, the largest boy in school, who was also accused of harboring a tender regard for the teacher herself. But though the valorous Dutcher had been so artistically got rid of in the morning it was much harder to dispose of him in the afternoon when he called with the remainder of the intelligent | School Board and announced that owing to the fact that she had pounded one of I the children of a member of that Board I with a club and deprived him of needful exercise?clearly proved by the child himself?that they, as a Board and in pursuance of their duties, must dismiss her as teacher and secure another who would not jeopardize the health of the children of the members of that Board. Emma had expected such an outcome of the difficulty and although she suppressed her feelings with difficulty, she managed to keep them sufficiently under control to indicate to Edward Comstock to keep his scat, this young gentleman having indicated his entire willingness to comc forward and throw the entire Board out of Mie door if she was of the opiuion that, it was for the best. ' I never hurt any of your children," she exclaimed, and put her foot down very firmly, "but they all need it and I don't want to try to teach them any longer anyhow," and she walked away and left them. A few days later she returned home and soon after met Miss Bacon. "I'm sorry to hear of your misfortune," said thai lady. "Oh, you needn't be?I was glad to get I away," Emma replied. "Is that so? I'm sorry you feel that way about it. I'm afraid the time you gave to it has all been lost." "Well, I don't know?I got engaged to the biggest boy in the school and he'll uu cwuiiiy-oue 111 uic goiug to be married then?I think that's doing pretty -well." And as Miss Bacon thought of it and remembered all the terms which she had taught without accomplishing anything of that nature she admitted to herself that perhaps Emma had done more than sh>: had at first given her credit for.? Dakota Bell. I WOMAN'S WORLD. PLEASANT LITERATURE FOR FEMININE READERS. 1- -n' 1 VI UIIlit II 9 IT Ul A. "Men work from morning till set of sun." They do. '"But woman's work is never done." Quite true. For when one task she's finished, something's found Awaiting a beginning, all year round. "Wnether it be To draw the tea Or bake the bread, Or make the bed, | Or ply the broom, Or aust the room, Or floor to scrub, Or knives to rub, Or tabic to set, Or meals to get, Or shelves to scan, Or fruit to can, Or seeds to sow. Or linens to bleach, Or lessons teach, Or butter churn, Or jackets turn, Or polish glass, Or plates of brass. Or clothes to mend. Or children tend, Or notes indite, Or st-orios writes? But I must stop, for really if I should Name all the oars, take me n davit would. So nianv are there that I do declare More boats than I could count might have a pair. And yet enough ba left; and. men-folk, these Same oars propel your barks o'er househ jld seas Into sunny havens where you rest at ease. And, one word more, don't you forget it, please. ?Vox ropuli. Parisian Bread-Porters. It is stated that bread is distributed in Paris almost exclusively by women. These come to the various bakehouses at 5:30 a. m., and spend about an hour in brushing the long loaves with special brushes. When her load is cleaned of grit and dust the porteuse de pain goe3 her rounds to her customers. Customers who live in flats have their loaves propped ud acainst the door of their apartment. Shopkeepers, restaurateurs and other I customers who have the entrance to their | premises on the street find their quanta | of the staff ol life leaning against their J front door when they take down their ; shutters. The wages of these bread j carriers vary from 50 to 60 cents per j diem, their work being generally over at; 10 or 11 o'clock in the morning.? | Milling World. Early Risers. "In reading tbe lives of well-known; nteratary women, - says a writer in tnt* ; Critic, "I am surprised to find them such j early risers. Harriet Murtineau took her ! cup of coffee (which she made herself) i and a four mile walk before 8 o'clock. When she returned she ate her breakfast and sat down to work. At 2 o'clock she i dined, and then the day's work was done. : She read, but never wrote, in the even-1 ing. Marie Edgeworth, too, wa3 up | with the lark, and a housemaid two j miles from where she lived used to waken i her mistress in the morning with 'It's 8 o'clock, ma'am; Miss Edgeworth is goingby.' Ouida is an earlier bird than either of these two good ladies was. She goes from her bed to her desk and writes for three or four hours before she j touches a mouthful of food. The midnight oil gives no more inspiring light j than is shed by the early morning sun." i Lady Banjoists. Says a St. Louis banjoist: "The ladies' j of this city take very nicely to the banjo. ! I have been giving lessons in St. Louis j since the 1st of January, and have the names of dozens of belles and of not a few matrons in fashionable circles on i my Dooks. You would be surprised to j see the list. Most of them arc pretty well advanced, and I am thinking of giving a i concert. Three months is plenty of time , for the study of the banjo if the pupil j will practice an hour or two every day. j By the end of the third month they get, so that they can handje the instrument j cleverly and pick almost any air out of i the strings. There is a very friendly ri- j valry among some of the ladies who de- i sire to be known as superior banjoists, j and astonish their friends with their j skill in playing. But I wish you could , hear the wife of a leading lawyer, who is j also a leading statesman, playing a 'Mex- 1 icanserenade'on her banjo." Diamonds That Dance. Many people have been puzzled to understand why the diamonds -worn in earrings by ladies nowadays maintain such a ceaseless quivering motion. It makes no difference that the head of the wearer is in perfect repose, and that she is even speechless, and, therefore, exerting no muscle of face or feature. The ceaseless twinkle of the diamond goes on, enhancing greatly the flashing beauty of the gem. The secret is in the setting of the diamond, and the method is a patent device. The stone is set in the usual manner, except that the band, like the handle of a diminutive basket, is attached to the framework. On the underside of this band is a cup-like cavity. On the lower part of the hoop is a projecting pin - -j---j ? a-K./.V. poinieu Willi 1UUU1UUI, a iuclui n uivu never wears out?somewhat like the iridium with which gold pens are tipped. Now, when the diamonds are put in position on the hoop, the rhodium point projects into the cup. The result is what scientists would call a condition of unstable equilibrium. Like the peablows with a pipe by a schoolboy, the diamond is given no rest, with the difference that no effort is required to keep it dancing. The metal point never wears out.?Jewelry Newt, The Queen of Rags. Speaking of the poor, one of the queerest figures in New York is that of a woman who never wears anything but rags, but such a wild and wonderful assortment of them that she is really pictureanufi. She is erencrallv known in the I quarters she frequents as Crazy Kate,but is sometimes called the Queen of Rags for a change. Never had the most gorgeous rainbow more colors than this queer creature combines in her ragged raiment. I tried to count them the last time I saw her, but had to give it up. From the mass of rags on her headr to the tattered fringe of rags at heheels, she was a perambulating kaleido scope, so far as variations of color went. She gathers the rags wherever they can be found, often fishing tlmn out of the gutters, and, as she never attempts to clean them, the amount of dirt she carries about in her daily wanderings may be imagined. She not only clothes herself with rags, but wears layer upon layer of them, reefed and tucked and strung around her till she is swathed like a mummy. One of the worst tenements in New York is a building called the "Barracks," near the Battery. Crazy Kate is one of its tenants. She has a room in it, and the room contains hardly anything but rags and rotten apples. Next to her mania for rags is a passion for / iofknrinrf onfl (TOl n (T fc> O I through the form of peddling them at j the downtown docks, and sometimes in 1 the shipping offices and others. Nobody ^ ever buys her apples, but a great many who know her oddities give her nickels and dimes, of which, it is said, she takes such good care, notwithstanding the bee in her bonnet, that she has quite a little lniH Viv fnr a rainv dav. There was a romantic story told about her some years ago, to the effect that, being in love with a sailor boy who went to sea and never came back, she lost her mind in consequence, but it is not accepted in the ''Barracks," where the general opinion is that Crazy Kate was born that way. She is an odd creature certainly, but quite harmless, the "Barracks" people say.?Neio York Letter. Fashion Xote3. Very high straight collars are seen upon the new dresses. Maize is asserting its claims to be considered a fashionable color. Ladies' shoes must match in tint the prevailing color of the gown. The sailor styles are reported in many garments for both boys and girls. Sniail. simple mantles are made with basque backs and mantilla fronts. The newest guimps for low sumtnei dresses are entirely of embroidery. Beads, or to speak by the card, jets, are fashionable foundations for bonnets. In the way of studs i;he same de' signs are shown for ladies as for gentlemen. Velvet is used either plain or in soft, irregular folds on the Drims of round hats. Hows of satin or moire riDDon decorate the tips and handles of dressy parasols. Surah Antoinette is a new fabric for light mourning, woven with a heavy twill. A new idea in black luce dresses is that of using Scotch plaid silk for the underskirt. Satin-finished, gros grain, gauze and taffeta ribbons are much used in mil- I linery. It is said that the tan shades of gloves have lost their popularity, and that cool grays are in favor. Many of the new parasols are in odd shapes, and have handles nearly long enough for alpenstocks. Skirt draperies tend to long, limp,"and straight Burne-Jonesism; poulfes and watteau are out of fashion. Bonnet ribbons are coming in again. They are not tied, but' caught low down with a jeweled bar of gold. The latest novelties in bonnets and scarf pins for ladies' wear are combinations of pearls and diamonds. Basques are declared not suitable for young women, and are consequently not worn, even by grandmothers. BonLets of every material are made in the graceful princesse shape, with small round crowns and coronet front. The very latest thki;; in sleevelinks simulates the coffee bean; each bean must be of a differently colored gold. Thin, transparent materials are made up with full gathered corsages and sleeves to match, whether for basques or polonaises. ~One of the prettiest ideas in millinery is the bonnet formed entirely of little quillings of tulle in white or color. It is exquisitely soft in effect. Combinations of black and white silk are fashionable thus summer, and many entire dresses of checked or striped black and white silk will be worn. Children's hats have very large brims, much wider in front and on -the sides, than behind, and are trimmed with short plumes and loops of ribbon. Surahs with a brocaded stripe are seen in many attractive colore, and are largely used in forming the petticoats of some of the dressy summer costumes. Many very stylish costumes have very narrow foundation skirt9, with a cushion bustle and steel springs, over which very ample draperies arc disposed. Polonaises are seen in all materials, from velvet to tulle. These are made in long princesse fashion, "or with bouffant drapiugs, a la Marie Antoinette. Coat-sleeves are now made to fit the arm easily in all materials, especially woolens. Full bishop's sleeves and legof-mutton sleeves are seen on many new gowns. It finishes a pretty summer costume if the parasol is covered with the "same material as the dress. This is not a very expensive addition, and pays for the trouble. ' Brussels tret is of such a substantial wear that it is better liked for the gauze bonnets than tulle, but point d'eiprit net is rirettier than anv other fabric for this * V purpose. Many rows of machine stitching are used as a finish upon Summer camel'shair and cashmere dresses, in a way formerly used exclusively upon tailor gown* of heavy cloth. Hoods are usee? upon garments of every style. A novelty in this line are the dainty lace hoods in monk style, which are arranged to lie flatly on the back of elegant lace garments. Some of the summer costumes of light materials have the bodic? so cut as to expose a small portion of the throat in front, and with lapping surplice fronts. Others have a square-cut front with plaited chemisette of lace or crepe lisse. Three breadths of silk ure used for the back of skirts, drapery and lower skirt being thus combined. These breadtlis am nut half a vari lonerer than the foun dation skirt, and there are an endless va- 1 riety of wa,ys of arranging the surplus length at tho top. A new trimming is composed of six 01 seven rows of extremely narrow ribbon, known as baby ribbon, which are cauglit together by loops of gilt thread arid edged with loops of feather-edged ribbon, one-fourth of an inch wide. White satin ribbon with links of gilt thread is an especially effective combination. He Left Suddenly. The son of a Northumberland lady loft his Flobcrt gun lying on the floor. The mother, with swinging broom, found it just as a knock came at the door. In the excitement of the moment she placed the byooni in the corner and carried the gun to "Mic door. She now blesses her bonnie blue-evcd boy. It was a book peddler that knocked, and when he saw the gun hi- stood not on the order of going, but went like greased lightning? Skamokin, (Pcnn.) Dispatch. A Few Queries. Tell as what kept Ben. Perley Poore? For we have asked in vain. Did tight shoes make the Indian corn? Why did Robert Treat Paine? T And in what hand does Carroll W right? And where does Cabot Lodge? What Lion did Alansou Beard? "What foe did Abigail Dodge? ?Cape Ann Breeze. Who scrubs and irons all Carl Schurzf With whom does now George Francis Train? Can any one approach Bill Nye? What "copy" man would dare Mark Twain? ?Qharlest.oivn Enterprise. ' ' budget of fun. HUMOROUS SKETCHES FROM VARIOUS SOURCES. A Troublesome Law?An Appropriate Selection?So He was?Working Him Nicely?It Frightened Her, Etc., Etc. "Will you please pass the butter?" said the landlady's daughter to the star boarder. 4 "I'm sorry,replied the latter, who was a railway clerk, "but the new law prohibits all passes."?Tid-Bits. Appropriate Selection. "I see that old Dr. Fettlox ha3 been appointed visiting physician to the Old Soldier's Home. How ou earth did they come to choose him?" ''Why, don't you know he's the most renowned veteran-ary surgeon in the country?" "Indeed. You surprise me. I thought he was a horse doctor."?Life. So He AVas. "Humph! but you are wearing your father's hat 1" he said, as he looked over the fence at the other boy. "I know it!" was the reply. "Hey! but you arc ashamed!" "Ifot much I ain't! A feller who can't make use of his father hadn't orter have one!"?Detroit Free Press. It Frightened Her. Old Man (Reading report of baseball game)?"They got onto (Jlarkson early in the game and pounded him all over the field. He succeeded in striking out two men, after a hot grounder had gone right through Burns, and a man been given a life on first, and then the visitors wielded the willow in earnest and knocked the unfortunate out of the box." Old Lady?"Don't read any more of that fight, please, Josiah. It's too dreadful. Dear me! Dear me! Where could the constable have been? And they call this a Christian country." "Working Him Nicely. ' My dear,"' said a husband, who is fond of putting posers. "Can you tell me why young women who don't want to get married are like angels' visits?" TJtie iaay nnauv gave it up. "Because they are few and far between. Ha, ha, hal Not bad, eh?" "Exceedingly clever. He, he, he? By the way, John, can you let me have that $30?" "Certainly," said John.?New York Sun. High Art in New York. Miss Bondclipper, accompanied by her mother?they live on Fifth Avenue, Y.?called at the studio of the great por-. trait painter, Herr Von Pinsel, to inspect Mrs. Bondclipper's portrait in oil. Both ladies went into ecstacies over the work of art. "So, Miss Pondclipper, you dinks dot likeness your mudder of vash goot?" remarked the flattered artist. "0, it is perfectly splendid!" replied Miss Bondclipper, "it is just as natural as life. I am surprised, Herr Van Pinsel, that with your talent you did not become a photographer."?Siftings. Taking the Census. "I have a scheme to make some money when the next census is taken in Dakota," said one Sioux Falls man to another. "What is it?" "Why, I'll make a proposition to the Legislature to take the census of the towns at about five dollars per town and make a whole barrel of money." "Why, you couldn't make a cent at that rate." "Couldn't, hey? Well, I know I could n 4- if T nnn falrn a nan a n c nf ft ^CI null i)t 1U ? u?u luavy wuu lvimuj v/i c? town for fifty cents. You sec I'll give a man half a dollar to bitch up a sick horse and drive it out on the main street and let it lie down, and then after about five minutes I'll get up on the wagon and count 'em."?Dakota Bell. The "Pen" Mightier Than the Sword. John B..Carson, the well-known railroad magnate, was showing an English friend the beauties of St. Louis a little while ago. "Who lives there?" asked the Englishman, pointing to a magnificent marble palace. "Mr. Brown, the great pork-packer." "And there?" said the Englishman, pointing to another magnificent dwelling. "Mr. Jones, the famous pork-packer." "And there?" pointing to a neat little frame house. "Oh, that's General Sherman's house," said Mr. Carson. "Ah"'remarked the Englishman, "another evidence tliat the 'pen' is mightier than the sword."?Xtio York Truth. What Pompeii Died Of. A Post-Express reporter chanced to be standing beside the delivery desk of one of the city libraries when a well dressed lady of thirty approached the desk. The librarian was cutting the leaves of a new copy of the "Last Days of Pompeii," j every now and then stopping to read a passage from the famous novel. The lady glanced around listless and said: "I would like to find something new in the way of nice reading. Nothing very strong, you know, something light and amusing. That is a nice looking book you have there. "Whit is it?" "It is the "Last Days of Pompeii.'' " 'Last Days of Pompeii,' Pompeii? Pompeii?who was Pompeii? What did he die of? I never could bear tragedy." "I believe he died of an eruption. Yes, this is rather tragical," replied the librarian with the faintest smile imaginable. The lady departed after securing something 'light and amusing,'and without the slightest" idea that she had furnished any amusement.?liochcatcr PostExpress. Had the Cowboy Along. It was on a train coming East-from Chicago. In the smoking car was a passenger who had been out in the cattle country for several years. He was a small man, having soft white hands and a very mild look, and one of the passengers presently observed: "So you've been in the country, eh ?" Yes, sir." " T'ifl tr> im nrmed. I suunose ?" "Yes, all men out there go armed." "Saw Mexicans, eh ?" "Yes, sir, a few." "And cowboys ?" "Yes, sir." "Ever have any trouble with a eowboy ?" "Yes, sir, once." "And do you mean to say that you came out of it alive ?" "I do, sir." "And?and what becomc of the cow- ; boy ?" i "I have him here, sir," replied the little man, and opening his valise he took i out a cow-boy's sombrero with a bullet < hole through the front, and then open- ] ing a small parcel he brought out a well preserved human ear. "Well, by George !" gasped the inquisitive passenger, and he began shrinking up and wilting away until when th? little man looked around for him he had entirely disappeared.?Detroit Free Press. Goflo tho Food of the Canary-Islander. I Lave alluded to the excellent bodily development and proportions of the modern Canarians, and to the testimony left by the old chroniclers to the still fine characteristics of the ancient Guanches, who are indeed described as marvels of bodily strength, beauty and agility, because these facts have an important bearing on the question of their food. As there can ber no such bodily growth, strength and activity, ai is described as belonging to these people, without superior nourishment, it follows that the food uwd by the Guanches, and adopted and still almost exclusively used by the present inhabitants, must be highly nutritious. This article, so evidently important, is tire gofioy named at the head of this paper. There is nothiug mysterious about it, for gofio is simpiy SoUr made from any of tne cereals by parchiug or roasting before grinding. The Guanches may hare roasted their wheat, barley, etc., by tVip rpadv mnthnrl of first, hpfitirxr stones. on which or among which the grain was afterward placed. As to that there are no precise accounts, but well-shaped grinding-stones are plentifully preserved. At present gofio is prepared by roasting the grain in a broad, shallow earthen dish, over a charcoal-fire. It is kept constantly stirred, to prevent burning. One can hardly pass through a village or hamlet without witnessing some stage of the preparation of gofio. The graiD is first carefully picked over and all impurities removed. The processes frequently take place in front of or just within the always-open door, giving the traveler ample opportunity to see all steps of the preparation. The grinding is done at the wind-mills, which abound everywhere. The roasted grain is ground to a very fine flour, when it becomes gofio. Aftergrinding it is ready for immediate use. When it is to be eaten, milk, soup, or any suitable fluid, may be mixed with it?anything, in fact, to give it sufficient consistency to be conveyed into the mouth. Being already cooked, it requires no further preparation before eating. Ultimately maize was introduced into the islands, and soon became an article of general cultivation, particularly on the Island of Grand Canary, where gofio from it is the staple article of food lor the laboring population, as that from wheat or wheat mixed with maize is in Teneriffe, wheat being-more largely grown in the latter island.?Popular Science Monthly. Maypole Customs. A correspondent sends to London Notes and Queries the following particulars of the maypole customs at Haltwhistle, in the county of Northumberland, England. The maypole was usually some seventy or eighty feet in height. It was made of the two best trees that could be found on some neighboring estate, and which had been secretly chosen some time before by the youth of the town. The maypole was set up on May 14 (one of the half-yearly fair days) in the market place. The night before, the youth of Haltwhistle, who had forcibly" requisitioned the best horses they could find, started for a secret destination ?for the maypole was invariably a stolen one. Sometimes the gamekeepers offered resistance; but if the townsmen could get the trees into Haltwhistle, then they were claimed by the lords of the manor as waifs, and no interference was allowed with them. The * ?KKrvna Knllr on/1 puic Wits UtUftCU nibU iiuuviM, mmm a windmill on the top, and was the centre of rural festivities of the usual nature. In the evening it was pulled down and sold l^y auction, the proceeds being spent in drink, which seems to account for the great stress laid by my informants on the fact that they always took the very best trees they could find. The advent of the rural policeman killed the maypole at Haltwhistle. The May fair is still held, but a strict interpretation of the law has robbed it of its central ornament. Where Snakes Abound. In attempting to explore some of the islands of Lake Chapala it seemed as if the earth literally wore a "skirt of serpents," says a letter from Mexico t? the Philadelphia Record. The ground tlrom aarnvinrr and writh ?>taiLUUU VVAl/AA m If ?>v> ? .... ing from every bush, hissing and squirming on every fallen tree, and rippling the water in all directions. It was a question as to which were more numerous, the birds above or snakes below. They tell us that as soon as the spring birds reappear there is a great gathering of snakes below and hawks above. The latter literally cover the trees, and whenever hunger dictates they make a dash at the tired little creatures who have settled upon the islands after their annual return from some unknown region. If a bird escapes the hawks and seeks to refresh himself with a drink, in the twinkling of an eye he is swallowed by one of the greedy serpents that lie in wait for him at the water's edge. A Doctor's Kill in Brazil. Brazilian doctors are as eccentric in their charges as the people are in their desire to enjoy the pleasure of being let alone. The physicians do not regulate their charges by the time and labor they have expended in the patient's service, but by the estimated value of his life. As t.hk value is determined bv the patient's income, he. if he survives, is treated by the doctor as wreckers treat a stranded ship?the greater the value, the larger the salvage. A young English engineer, while engaged in some work in.the vicinity of liio, was attacked by yellow fever. A doctor of good repute attended him, and on his recovery demanded a fee of $900. The young engineer remoustrated and threatened to appeal to the courts. But friends who had resorted to these tribunals for redress advised him to have nothing to do with the law. Ho acted upon their counsel and paid the doctor's bill.?Youth's Companion. Burin all's Forests of Teak. In obtaining the vast and rich domain of Burmali the English Government has come into possession, among other natural treasures, of immense forests of teak, which, never very plentiful i:i India, was becoming commercially quite rare, and ! consequently of increased cost for industrial purposes. Of all the woods grown in the .East this has been pronounced as, in some respects, the most valuable. This superiority consists iu its being neither too heavy nor too hard; it does not warp nor split under exposure, no matter how prolonged, to heat or dampness; it contains an essential oil which possesses the rare property of preventing the wood from rotting under wet conditions, and. ?t the same time, acts as a preservative to iron, and repels insects; it is, in addition, a handsome wocd, of several varieties of color and grain, and takes a good j polish. j . tr ^ ; WORDS OF WISDdflt... "Wrinkles are the tombs of love. To makes pleasures pleasant shorten them. The man who procrastinates struggles with. ruin. j Well-arranged time is a sign of a wellordered mind. ' The smallest act of charity shall stand jus in great stead. A noble nature can alone attract the noble, and alone knows how to retain them. Circumstances form the character; but, like petrifying matters, they harden while they form. The great high road of human welfare v lies along the old highway of steadfast . well doing. Every to-morrow has two handles. We can take hold of it by the handle of anxiety or the handle of faith. In life it is difficult to say who do yon the most mischief?enemies with the worst intentions, or friends with the best. The intellect of man sits^nthroned visibly upon his forehead and^Lhis eye; and the heurt is written upon his ceuux itruauue. .. ^ We sleep, but the loom never a tops, and the pattern which was weaving when the sun went down is weaving when it comes up to-morrow. Count your resources; learn what yo i are not fit for, and give up wishing for it. Learn what you can do, and do it with the energy of a man. The essential difference between a good and a bad education is this, that ? the former draws the child on by making it sweet to him; the latter drives the child to learn, by making it sour to him if he does not. A tender-hearted and compassionate disposition which inclines men to pity and feel the misfortune of others, and which is even for its own sake incapable of involving any man in ruin and misery, is of all tempers of mind the most amiable; and, though it seldom receives much honor, is worthy of the highest. , ; An Animal Army. Marvelous invaders are the lemmings. They are near relatives of the shorttailed field mouse, and are about five inches long, with round heads, brown fur, and bead-like eyes. Their home is in the highlands, or fells, of the great :< central mountain chain of Sweden and Norway, where they build nests of grass for their young. The lemmings are spiteful little creatures when aroused, sitting up on their hind legs and fighting r with a will. Not only are they pugnacious, hut extremely restless 'and migratory as well; and every five, ten, or twenty years they seem possessed by a desire to see foreign land3. Thereupon, they one and all leave their settlements and start out in tens of thousands, overrun the cultivated tracts of land in both Norway and Sweden, and 'ruin the plants and vegetation. They 'J* march only at night, pressing on slowly ' in one straight course, and allow nothing to disturb them. Birds and various animals follow and prey upon them; but, notwithstanding this, they actually, increase in numbers, gaining recruits as they advance. Rivers are swum and hills crossed, until, finally, the Atlantic or the Gulf of Bothnia is reached. But, still impelled by the same blind instinct that has let it onward, the entire vast concoursc plunges into the sea, , swimming onward, the little animalis piling one upon another as they are beaten back, until at titres their bodies ' have formed veritable sea-walls. Boat- ^ . men returning to tlhe beach have found their way obst?ucted by a struggling horde that his just reached the sea. The number of lemmings in these bands is -;v beyond all computation, sometimes tne ~ march is kept up for three years before the water is reached.?St. Nicholas. Gems for Each Day of the Week. All yellow gems and gold are appropriate to be worn on Sunday, to draw aown the propitious influences, or to avert the antagonistic effects of the spirits on this day through its ruler ana namegiver, the sun. On Monday pearls and white stones (but not diamonds) are to '< be worn, because this is the day of the moon, or of the second power in nature. v" Tuesday, which is the day of Mars, claims rubies, and all stones of a fiery histre. Wednesday is the day for turquoises, sapphires, and all precious stones which ') seem to reflect the blue of the vault" of of heaven, and that imply the lucent azure of the supposed spiritual atmc^sphere, wherein, or under which, the Rosicrucian sylphs dwell?those elementary children who, according to the cabalistic theogonv, are always striving for intercourse with the race of Adam, '-J seeking a share of his particular privilege of immortalitv, which has been | denied to them. "Thursday demands ? amethysts and deep-colored stones, a sanguine tint, because Thursday is the-, day of Thor?the runic impersonated male divine sacrifice. Friday, which is the day of Venus, has its appropriate ' emeralds, and reigns over all the varieties of the imperial, and yet strangely the sinister color, green. Saturday, which is Saturn's day, the oldest of the gods, . claims for its distinctive tailsman the most splendid of all gems, or the queen of precious stones, the lustre-darting dia^ mond, which is produced from the Dlack ' of Sab, Seb, or Saturn, the origin of all * - i\aaa ? A* V1S1DIC tnings, or mu "urreaii vt r "Great Mother,"in one sense.?Literary World. Mr. Brewster's Little Mistake. "Yes" said a man on the train, "he's a ?00(1 fellow, ex-Attorney General Brewster, but there is a lot of blarney about him. I know him well, you see?used to visit at my house. Did I ever tell you > that joke about him? No?. "Well, you see, he had a great fashion of calling his personal friends 'my dear fellow' and addressing young ladies as 'my dear' in a ' pleasant way. We had a colored cook at our house who wasn't handsome, but she could beat all Dauphin county baking waffles. One evening about dusk there came a ring at my door bell. My library was just at the head of the stairs. The I cook answered the call. It was Brewster, and in the semi-darkness he thougnt it was one of the family. 'Good evening, my dear; I hope you arc well,' and he put out his hand for a shake. It was too late to back out when he saw who it j was. so lie kept right on. talked about j the pleasant weather and the family just - as though it was an everyday matter with .him to shake hands with the servants, while I liunjr over the balusters about i ready to die." His urbanity and self-possession were equal to the occasion, and it tickled the girl nearly to death. Afterward whenever she knew Brewster waa to take dinner at our house we had waffles and chicken that beat the world."? Pittsburg I>i*])atch. An old detective says: ''Inninety-nine cases out of 100 in which men say they have been drugged in whisky shops the plain fact is that they have been drunfc."