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ST OEIAB MIDBUH1TEB. IBM tatodle oow'g music -was drowsy and doll, iM dew of the grass wet her tail, jj Bobtn Adair drove her up to the stile, Whan Marx, the milkmaid, with mischtovooa BzaOe, Va? waiting and watching with patieno? thi l\ , while, "With her brown early head in the paiL tba clouds and the darkness of nisht had Ju?1 put, The sun arose, big. round, and red, ia Robin Adair reached the stile with the cow. lad wondered just when, just where, and just how, (e had ever sees Mivry so pretty as now, With the bright shiidng pail on her head. i moment he wondered, a moment he paused. His heart beat a quickstep or two, Ifhen he saw to his sorrow her rosy lips pout, ind heard the deep mutt'rlngs of sobs coming out from the dear little heart he was thinking about. As he waded the grass, wet with dew. JTith a hop, skip, and jump Robin mounted the stile, . To learn, if he could, what it meant, when Mary confessed, between sobs, then and there, Rubt her hope and ambition was Brindle to scare, tut the pesky old "handle" had caught in hei hair, So she could not say "boo" worth a cent. Chicago, 111. II JEWELED HAIRPIN; Egk . rm n, m i _ _ me strange rrageay 01 ine " Grand Hotel. ^ BY ARTHUR GRIFFITHS. B&-CHAPTER Xin-Continned. To my surprise I was received by Cap!< lain Fawcett. "I asked to be allowed to speak to Mrs. I Bayfield, or Miss Bertram," I began, fery stiffly. "They are both engaged. Mr. Sarsleld requires close, constant attention. Four second dastardly stab will have lone its work effectually." "Captain Fawcett, I must demand an : axplcmation. You have once. already keld extraordinary language with regard tv k> me, and I will not tolerate it, underftand that." "The evidence against you is unmistakable." "Indeed! What evidence?" "The first attack was made just as you were leaving Bythesea; it is renewed directly you return." "Pahawl man, you are willfully deceiving Tonrself. If Mr. Sarsfield has been threatened, it -was not by me; that I solemnly declare, on my honor. Bat I can ??? Wlyon " I had no time to complete the sentence, rhe bedroom door opened. I heard the 8? rustle of a dress, and Miss Bertram came -' tut, tearful, agitated, but with a bright took on her beautiful face. "I knew it. I was certain of it," she aid, as she seized my hand impulsively. 'You could not have done so dastardly a thing." "Oh, Miss Bertram, is it possible that ion erei doubted me?" I asked, reproachtally, looking into her eyes. *No, no; not really. It was he, Captain CJawcett, who insisted; who would make W: " V; "Captain Fawcett will yet admit his inj ' Justice, I think. He will apologize " m.r "Never!" -V. "We shall see. But we are losing time. t understand Mr. Sarsfield has been CV threatened?" "Twice,^ said Miss Bertram, eagerly, w Ignoring a gesture from Captain Fawcett. Sg" 'I shall speak. Twice. The first time jSr; 'by the letter you saw delivered; the seo0v ?nd, this morning. Here, see what they toy." _ _ p "No, Ton must not, Miss .Bertram, ~ mv terpoBca Captain Fawcett, trying to interim *pt the letters. "Do remember It is Mr. Borsfield's secret yon are divulging." "I do not Ithinkpir. Sarefield has an; K'f *?cret from me," I cried, qnickly. Bp' . "I should like to know how yon have fained the knowledge," said Captain Fawj&|< tett, still insolent. pf( "By fail? means. I have learned all fet about the Dos Hermanos " "Oh, Mr. Leslie, do not be harsh; do r*1 - *ot condemn too hastily. He may have oan to blame?morally, perhaps, but not actually or knowingly. He withdrew at onoe from the firm when its wicked, dis'y graceful conduct was known. They had fife aever told him; he was quite in the dark P r' till after the capture of the ship." ? 'But he always dreaded exposure?" "Don't you see, he would have been dispaced utterly in the city, in London, is fvery where. The man came and threat mod to publish everything. Me had the fqllest proofs, he said, and would proiuco them " And this, then, was the ?ecret that Cornells Janssen had Burs' prised! '$"lean tell you," I said, "who wrote >/; those letters, I may read them, I suppose! ?;2 ? must, U I cma help yon as I wish?for 1 ? ;io wish most sincerely, Miss Bertram. STou believe that?" -" * She gave them to me without opposi| tionnow.and accompanied by a sweet look :"v that thrilled through and through me, laying: "How can ho be silenced? Must be have what he asks?* Do advise us?" fa--, lad Captain Fawcett's face grew black . m ho saw himself thus thrust aside. . I read the letters. The first, ieceived fust before I left Bythesea, was very brief. It said: "Do not think yourself safe. He is dead, L x n iruvvuicrs Jkuun. That was all. The second ran a^ fellows: "The writer has in his hands the proofs ?f your guilt. You authorized the masc lacre, and are responsible for it. You canst purchase silence. Will you pay the - price? I want ?500 now and ?500 in sis toonths. "If you agree to this do not pull up ^ iho blinds of your bedroom?I know it? /' till 4 o'clock in the afternoon. I shall ?ee and understand. Then place the rS money, in gold, at sundown, in the last [< . ?f Bangle's bathing machines on the north ond of tho beach, 'ihe machine is . ? padlocked, but yon will find the key in a shink between the thirteenth and fourp ;-'teenth stones of the seawall behind, sounting down from the twenty-seventh lairiD-Doet. K 'ft you do not agree; if you watch me, or try to play me false?beware. The day after my arrest a sure hand will post & letters to every London paper, containing a full account of your complicity In tho 'Dos Hermauos,' supported by sopies of :ill tho documents', 'the originals . af which I hold. So do not touch me ?V aud pay the price." An adroit, astute scoundrel! Bold and unscrupulous, too, as was proved by his return to Bytbe-ea, nud. his daring to elaim his blackmail for himself. For ot source he was at Bythesun. His lettei bowed that. It bore the postmark. Then the signal of approval could only be seeu jjs'" oy some one ou the spot. And, a?ain, f the hush money was to bo handed over ou i the Eythesea Beach. if).-; but in protecting nimaeir against rarprise and capture he had overreached himself, i? I thought. The threat of expoBure in the daily paperB was really a Tain one. No eiitor would have risked r the publication of the statements that fe:. looked so libelous. Yet even in this K Cornelia bad acted with consummate Sr. cunning, counting on Mr. Barafield's Hfr ? fears, as I presently found. R| Now. when my good faith was proved Hr. beyond doubt to' all except Fawcett, I was Bj& admitted to a family conclave. I saw poor Mr. Sarsfleld himself, weak and sufHr lering, but atill able to insist upon blind submission to hia persecutor's demands. r W I think Mr. Sarsfield would still have spared Cornelia Janssen sooner than xun Hn. the risk of exposure. Rather than 'agitate Mr. S art field further in his weak state I agreed to this, and promised, for the Bythesea polioe, that we would not interfere with Cornelia for the present. He should touch his coin and go; but we would not lose sight of him, and when he least anticipated capture, when all his fears of molestation were lullef/he must be arrested himself and hi3 papers seized by a sudden descent. It was so arranged. The blinds were manipulated as aireoted, and no watch kept on the Esplanade to see whether Cornelia came in person to see the signal. At sundown Fawcett, the friend of the family, went to the north end of the beach with the gold which had been Drought down from London by one of Mr. Sarsfield's clerks, in obedience to telegraphic instruction. There were the rows of disused bath* ?HTUn woe in 4VlA nlftM llitt UlttUUlilCJS. -L no aoj nag r indicated. To unlock the padlock, deposit the gold, relock the machine and replace the key took little time, and the coast -was left clear for Cornelia to carry off his plunder. Not quite clear, however. Hasnip and another detective in plain clothes watched all night from the very next machine, in which eye-holes had been bored and in which they spent the night. Their instructions were to observe who removed the money, to follow him at a distance, I but without creating suspicion, to mark him down and never leave him till it was j safe, having regard to Mr. Sarsfield'i scruples, to run him in. chapter" xiv. ? FROM BYTHESEA TO ANTWEBP. Very early next morning Smart and I walked over to get Hasuip's report. At a concerted signal the detectives came out to report the result of their night's work. "Well?" we all asked in a breath. "Nothing. He never came," replied Hasnip, in a surly voice. "It was all a plant; wagpfent the wrong way to work." "You ffept good watch?" I asked, incredulously. "Naturally. We were on duty." Hasnip looked aggrieved. "A fine watch!" cried Smart, who had been examining the machine. "See, this door is unlocked." "And the money gone?" "Gone." "He came, sure enough," said Mr. Smart. "I say, Hasnip, what were you about?" he went on, severely; "you'll have to be pulled up for this?both of yoa." "It will have to be dono all over again," I said rather sharply to Smart. "To think that Hasnip, old Hasnip, should have served us such a trick. It is annoying,"replied the Chief Constable, apologetically. "But, never fear, we shall get him yet " "What do you imagine he'll be up to?" went on the Chief Constable, very coolly and quietly. "Leave the country, probably, with his swag." "Just my idea. But where would he go?" "To his own part of the world." "Right again. Well, we'll have all the issues watched. The London police will 6ee to that. ' I'll wire at once. In the 1; /innntvr mfcUiilUilt) CttlJ JUU uuu vua vuu he bailed from?" "I think the head waiter said he was a Belgian, a Fleming. But we con easily ask." "I'll leave that to you, only come round to the office as soon as yoa know anything more." The head waiter's answer was prompt and explicit. Cornelis Jansen. He remembered the fellow well?a very impudent man. Coun? try? Ah, yes. From Belgium?from the Flemish provinces of Belgium?Antwerp, Anvers, that was his native place. "We'll have all the Channel and Continental boats watched, as I told you, Mr. Leslie. He'll go abroad now, you'll see, meaning to enjoy himself till he runs 6hort of cash, then he'll milk Mr. Sarsfield again. 1 "It's athousand pities we allowed him to go so far." "Have a little patience, Mr. Leslie; it'll all come right, and you won't find a day or two here unpleasant, I expect." I am constrained to admit that he was rioht in this slv surmise. I found myself firmly established in the good graces oi the Sarsfields. Captain Fawcett even confessed, with a muttered apology, that he had done me an injustice, out the ad<i mission went sorely against the grain, 1 oould see. He still hated me most cordially, but on grounds that were pardonable, aftei all. Miss Bertram, I began to fatter my* self, decidedly preferred my society to his, and I became, in consequence, mors devoted than ever. It was evident that so long as Cornelii was at large, and in a position to breah his promise or to renew his threats, Mr. Sarstiold would know no peace of mind; The truest kindness, in spite of his fears; would be to call his tormentor to strict account for his crimes. Happily Cornelis did not elude us lone. We heard of him on ihe third duy. KS; or a man answering to his description, had crossed by the Harwich steamer to Antwerp. "What did I tell you?" cried Smart, triumphantly. "He has gone straight home." "Where we had better follow him im? immediately." "No; we'll give him a day or two, 01 rather tho Antwerp policc, just to gel upon the soent, and then we'll join to run him in together. I'll send over instructions to-night." This seemed a judicious plan, and 1 agreed to it readily. "We were rewarded, for in a few days came news in the shape of a telegram from the chief of the Antwerp police. "Have your man in view," it said. "Lose no time. Identitiestion indispensable." We were in Antwerp next morning. Smart and I?Hasnip, since his fiasco at the bathing machine, ha:l been dropped out of the case?and the moment we lauded we drove to the Grand Place, leaving our luggage with the Commissionnaire of the Hotel St. Antoine. The chief of the police, a smart man, wearing a military uuiform and speaking English fluently, was very pleased to see us. "You want one Cornells Janssen. Can you describe his appearance?" I did as requested. "He is known to ns. I think; but you hall see for yourselves. The man we mean belonged to Antwerp Hla mother had a stall in the Friday market." "But is tie in Antwerp now?" "Beyond doubt?a Cornelia Janssen; if only it ia the same man. We have had our eye on him for tomu days. We should hare been obliged to send him to jail for ' j J;? UrUU&OUUt)59 U1U VUDUIUCtijr wuuuv* you not wanted him for the larger orime. He had been twice in the ' amigo'?our police cells?already, and he is utterly Eiven up to dissipation of the worst ind." "In funds, of course." "He has evidently unlimited cash. He lives at an estaminet?a drinking-shop in the Steegsken, a low part near the quays, and he passes his time between it and the music halls." "Where is he now?" "In his bed, probably, sleeping off the fumes of gin and white Louvain beer. Come, we will take him where he lies, if only you are sure." It wub a short walk up the Grand Plaoe, and by the Eue Haute, across the square of Capucin Convent, and in to the Steegsken, a narrow, dirty alley, every second door that of an estaminet, the rest shipchandlers and shops selling wooden sabots, sailors' gaudy handkerchiefs, rouud cheeses and dried flat-fish. We halted before a_ drinking den, the "Estaminet in den Korn bloem bij Van Loo"?so ran the sign. At tho sight of the police the landlord, trembling, asked how he_could oblige. suarp. colloquy followed In Flemlsn, at the end of Which the Chief of the Police said to me: "Come quick. He is still in bed " and ran upstairs, three flights, followed by a party of policemen, with Smart and myself. At the top was a single door, fast locked, and to a peremptory summons to open, no answer came. At a signal from the chief the obstacle was beaten down. We rushed in; the room was empty, but TT-in/lriTO Ifiarliniy to the roof was flung open, and it was clear our quarry had escaped that way. The Chief looked down into the street and Bhouted a few words, evidently of warning. The answering shouts plainly told he was understood. The hubbub increased; cries and counter cries, exclamations of encouragement, sympathy, horror, disgust, fierce eagerness in the chase?there was no mistaking their varied soundp. From the roof in front of the dormer window I watched the fugitive's progress. He was fall in sight, rapidly clambering along as best he could. I saw him run down the leads, then make a spring on to the gable-end stairs, up which he climbed daringly. Thus he gained the ridge of a steeper roof, and along this he walked carefully, carrying his life in his hand. At the end he encountered a fresh and unexpected obstacle?a tall ohimney-stack that forbade all further advances. Here - - 1- -1?,3 TT? tie paused, lrresoimtj, buxcij jju6u?u. could not go forward, and to j?o back would be to fall into the arms of the police. From down below other policemen threatened to shoot him where he was unless he came down. "Is that your man?" asked the Chief of me, hurriedly. "Can you see him? Are you quite sure?" I had not the slightest doubt it was Cornells Janssen, aud I said so positively. | "Will you come down? It is your last j chance. One?two?three!" the Chief shouted to him slowly, revolver in hand. Still the misoreaut would not surrenI der himself. With a new and more frantic effort he tried to climb round the chimney;Btack, but his foot slipped, he | lost hold, and next instant he had fallen down?there was no telling how I far?down in the court-yard on the other side. They took him up for dead, but, though I fearfully mangled, he still breathed. He I lingered in the hospital, to which he was removed on a stretcher, and I had several interviews with him before he died. With the fear of death upon him ho I confessed to his crime, justifying fully the conclusions at which I had arrived. He had overheard the quarrel between | Sarsfield and Yriarte, and knew sufficient Spanish to understand it. Then he resolved to make the Spaniard's secret his at any price, and utilize for his own advantage the power of extortion thus obtained. The murder had been a simple affair. JJ? had hidden himself in No. 99 before Yriarte retired for the night, but on tho Spaniard's appearance, after the victim had emptied his pockets on the dressingtable, he, Cornelis, had seized the knife, crept behind his victim and finished him at one stroke. He had taken his own knife with him, but had been suddenly inspired to use Yriarte's as less compromising, throwing it from him on leaving No. 99 by the window of the fire-oscape. After the deed he had 6pent an hour scorching the portmanteau, but with little result. All he found were a few memoranda and the Cadiz address of Yriarto's mother. These he utilized in the manner the reader knows, and thus' obtained the proofs ho needed for the effectual intimidation of Mr. Sarsfield. The whole of these papers, with many articles ,of a compromising character, were found in Cornelis' bed-room. I handed them all over to Mr. Sfcrsfi?ld without examining them. The valne he set on them *..> my justification for this. When, a few months later, I made Miss Bertram my wife, I restored to her the hairpin on which I had laid hands, explaining why I had secured it. At the same time I cleared up the few points that had remained obscure in thlB ex-* traordinary case. Mrs. Sarsfield knew from tho first of the hold Yriarte had over her hnsbaud. It was to implore the man to hold his tongue that she had ventured to No. 99. when she discovered the murder she almost believed in her husband's guilt. She had confided her fears to Fawcett at the end of the interview of which I heard the commencement, who had begun by suspecting her. His action at first had been to shield Mrs. Sarsfield and then Mr. Sarsfield. As for my dear wife, her whole idea was to screen her sister, even at the sacrifice of herself. Deep, unhesitating cle ehA Inrao i a un Y UUUii bU IUUOU nuvrn ouu iv??w ?? abiding principle with her, as I have fcrand, after many .years of the closest intimacy with this noble, unselfish nature. [THE END.l There are ugly reports that come from China to the effect that the people of that country are up in arms against the Christian missionaries and residents sojourning there. The conduct of the mob is such as to excite the resentment of every civilized and Christianized country on the face of the globe. It is something that will not be tolerated. Unless it is 6topped and restitution made gunboats as thick as mosquitoes will be getting around Chinese ports and pttt! ff o nrl will VvO Ytu^uau\.u ovTiiu auu uunuiv mii uv the result. All this conceded. It qaight be well here to pause and reflect on the causes which produced the outbreak to the end that a recurrence of the ugly scenes may be avoided. As far as this country is concerned we are at a disadvantage. We have solemnly excluded the Chinese, and with an inhospitality quite unparalleled and strangely at variance with our Fourth of July claim to be the "refuge of the oppressed of all countries." We have treated the Celestials rather roughly in many instances, not always stopping short of wholesale slaughter. Then we are sending missionaries to convert the B0-cauea neamen?a pjeue ui impudence on our part unexampled?while the heathen within our borders can see that our charity is long-ranged and blind to the wants of the nCedy at home. We go forth to save souls and wii'u ? magnificent assumption claim tnat? By many a rushinsc river, Throuph many a palmy plain, They call us to deliver The laud from error's chain. While at the same time tl^ere are u:illions undelivered from error's chain in our own country. With so many conflicting creeds, all entitled to the most profound respect, and with the teachings of the Savior interpreted in so many ways, it would be more seemly for our missionaries to remain at home until their differences were settled, and let the Chinese heathen take care of themselves. A Germaa newspaper recently contained ihe word Neapolitanersdudelsackpfeifergesellscbaftsunterstutzungsverein. It is supposed to mean "Benefit Association of Neapolitan Bagpipe Players." SNAKE CHARMING. A NEW YORK ANIMAL DEALER'S PECULIAR OCCUPATION. Training Young Women to Handle liig Snakes With Impunity?A Pupil's Practice With Pythons and Anacondas. Burns, the animal dealer in Roosevelt street, sells snakes, and has in his second story a fine collection of them. He also trains young women to the business. He has several applications a weefc during the summer, and almost as many during the winter. He will tell you that the dullest of those who graduate from his school get their diplomas after a two weeks' course of an hour a day, that many need only a half a dozen lessons, and that one or two have become proficient after one lesson. The young women who apply at this school are working girls who have got tired of standing behind counters or otherwise getting a living at the expense of long hours of toil. They have seen snake charmers and they are dazzled by the costume and the great applause. Most of these girls have a morbid love of notoriety and of queer sensations. When they come to Burns, they have, as a rule, never handled snake3 in their lives. Many come simply to inquire, and at the first sight of the snakes they withdraw.never to return. Others brave the thing through, and come out triumphant after a long struggle. Still others, one of these a Boston girl who has Mr. Burns's unbounded admiration,are at home with the snakes at once. This Boston girl came into Burns's place one afternoon about a year ago. She sat down and ot-otorl Vior hnqinAM. She had never bandied snakes, but she felt that she could do it, especially as she had to make a living. Mr. Burns took her up to the little upper room and banded her a large anaconda. She took it as she would have taken a banana. She practised with snakes on that day and the next, looked about for a place on the third day, and gave a public exhibition the fourth dav. Many of these women learn to love snakes. In fact most of them do. To a person who is susceptible to mesmeric influence, as, for instance, a woman who takes a keen delight in having her hair brushed or forehead rubbed, the sliding of the cool, undulating snake over th? bare neck and arms is a pleasure. Some snake charmers say that it makes them sleepy. They have to counteract this feeling in public as it interfers with that quickness of mind necessary to make the changes and combinations. Many a snake charmer gives performances simply for her own pleasure. The other morning a slender, neatly clad young woman walked with an easy, graceful step down dingy Roosevelt street. A breeze fluttered stray whisps of fair hair tV>?t nApripd from beneath her hat. and hur pretty, delicate face glowed with the warmth of her exercise. There was the brightness of healthy animation in her larjje gray eyes, and more than one whom she prssed turned for a second look at her trim figure. She paused at Burns's animal store, and a moment after had entered that domain of shrieking parrots, hissing 'gators, and chattering apes. A square-shouldered young man, who leaned against a tank tos3ing cabbage leaves to its occupant, a mantee, looked up at her entrance and nodded. He was Mr. James Burns, the animal trainer of the place, and the young woman was his pupil. She had come there to learn how to charm snakes. Presently Mr. Burns calls an assistant and, leaving the lower part of the place in his care, starts with his visitor up a narrow flight of staiis which leads to a bare, cheerless room, whose only furniture is an ancient chair. While the pupil removes her wrap the teacher crosses to a ventilated box. When the lid of this is thrown back four young pythons are seen lazily stretched inside. They ran^e in lengrh from eight to fourteen feet. "2sow," says Mr. Burns, "catch one r*f thncij and hrintr it ftut." The two largest snakes, which have been practically undisturbed since their capture, and, like the other.*, have been kept for some time unfed, have raised their heads and resent the intrusion upon their quiet by rapid hissings. The young woman remarks this, and calmly refuses Mr. Burn's request. "All right," responds the trainer, "but wait until you get- with the show and have no one to help you. "What do you think you are going to do then? Now watch how I get t.hat little fellow out.'' With this he drops a piece of matting over the heads of the two refractory subjects, and before they can emerge from beneath it catches ths smallest snake in the box by the neck and pulls him wriggling from the corner where he lay snugly ensconsed. He waves the snake through the air in n few rapid motions and then, assured of his docility, hands it to the girl with instructions for her to follow his example. This snake has been thoroughly trained, and the norm r.TiTimes it witn annrirent fearless r ~i~ ? r* ncss. Finally she sits down in the chair and caresses it with a show of pleasure. Meanwhile the indefatigable Mr. Burns extracts another snake from the box, and, after putting it through the same process as be c id its predecessor, gives it to the girl with instructions to slide the serpent in her hands on the floor gently and head foremost. This, he says, is the way she must alw'ays dispose of her snakes after they have been bandied. It prevents them becoming suddenly restless. Courageous trom the even tenor of her previous experience, the girl receives tho v3..v:'r. i ' w-*."' : . ; second snake bravely, and, tossing it < about her neck, lets its head slide down i to a level with her waist. The lower 1 part of its body encloses her shapely throat in a queer-looking coil, and, starting forward, the trainer cries: 4'Never let them get around the neck like that." Meanwhile he breaks the coil with a single gesture. Mr. Burns explains that in this way snake charmers are sometimes choked to death by their pets. The girl listens with her eyes opened very wide. ? Standing in the corner is a cage of iguanas, leachery-skinned lizards, so destitute of motion as to appear stuffed. Some, however, have crawled up against the sides of the cage and cling there, staring aimlessly from fishy eyes. The trainer jumps in and, tearing them off, begins to throw them to the bottom Tn an inafonf. ftll within U1 iuc vngg* jlu nu aj ?... , is whirring confusion. Dozens of the creatures are snapping at the trainer's shoes and trousers, while others chew at their brethren with equal enthusiasm. Mr. Burns quickly jumps out, but one of' the lizards gets through the door with him and scampers across the room in truant delight. The girl scample3 to a chair, holding the snake above her head. "I am not afraid of snakes," she cries, 'but I don't like that thing." After a struggle behind a bairel Mr. Burns grips the iguana behind the neck and tosses it, still clinging to a piece torn from his coat sleeve, among its kin in the cage. Its arrival causes a fresh tumult, and while this is quelling itself, Mr. Burns gets another snake from the box, one of those whose belligerence was so pronounoed at the beginning of the lesson. The disturbances about it have by no means improved this serpent's temper, and, as the trainer, with a sure grip behind the snake's head, sways it slowly to and fro, it opens its jaws to their fullest extent, and, hissing, seems ready to strike at whatever comes within its reach. "J\ow,thi8 snake isn't honestly ugly," remarks Mr. Burns, "and you needn't shrmk away. He's hungry, that's all; but if I fed him and then handled him he would die. Now, this is the way to quiet these fellows." The quieting process seems to lie siraplj in forcing the python to cut all kinds oj figures in the air. The motions ot the trainer are all made with wonderful' quickness. He watches constantly the snake's head, which his hand, rapidly Bliding about behind it, keeps in constant agitation. "This gives him something else than biting to think about,'* T> A ?..AA^1-rr ?tnn. HIT. DUIU3 CSpitlLUS, UUU nuuucuij otvp? He has done enough. The snake lie9 in his hands as placid as one could wish, and now he coils it in all shapes about him, but with no more displays of fierce-* ness oh it part. When the novice, who has watched the performance with deep interest, ia asked to handle this snake, she refuse* to touch it until a rubber band ha* fastened its jaws together. This accU dentlly slips off, and thenceforth she behaves so gingely with the python that her teacher looks on in disgust. IS "Why, he's not poisonous," exclaimed Mr. Barns; "and if you are bitten it's no worse than the prick of a needle. But wait a minute and I'll get you something easier." Whereat he dives into an inner room and returns with the young anaconda, darker than the pythons and looking sleepy enough. He gives it to the novice, who receives it with confidence, lotting . the other snake slide to the floor with an expression of relief. The first thin": that the anaconda does is to slowly and gracefully wind itself into a tight, bulging bracelet about the girl's wrist. "That's the way with those anacondas," slowly remarks Mr. Burns, "and you want to look out for it, too. They're just about ten times as bad as the pythons in tying themselves about anyone, and if that fellow had got around your neck as the second snake did, it wouldn't have been so easy to get him off." The he unwinds the snaky knot, . and tells the girl to keep the anaconda's coils apart with both hands. Suddenly, while his back is turned, the pupil shrieks out: "He's bit me," and Mr. Bums, slowly wheeling around, cheerfully remarks: "I knew he would. That's what I got him out for." The snake at the first opportunity had slipped his head from the girl's fingers, and like lightning fixed his teeth in the back of her right hand. She stands there now holding him tight and with a helpless, miserable look on her face. "Now, don't let go," says Mr. Burns, sootmngiy. "ine last giri x naa oicten i did that, and valked away to come back \ no more. Like all beginners, you were j afraid of the snake's teeth, and if this ^ hadn't happened here you would never , have been good for much until it * occurred in a performance, where you \ would have been well broken up. It isn't c goingto kill you, and some day you will a lind it a good bit of business to do in 8 the show. Does it hurt much now, c really?" a With some confusion, but with more r color in her face than it possessed a j moment before, the girl confesses that . she feels hardly any pain from the wound. Mr. Burns make3 her handle . c the snake a few moments longer and then c gives her a short rest, while he pours f British oil upon the snake bite. Then he sets her at work again, teaching her this time how to take a stubborn snake from the box and subdue it herself, how c to follow the head of another on the D floor until the proper time comes to grip i it with her hand, and then, observing I C unmistakable sigas of fatigue in tho t \ ^ vW' I countenance of the pupil, shows her two more snakes she must handle the next time she comes and dismisses her with a few brief words of encouragement. The entire lesson has lasted an hour and a quarter.?New York Sun. The Weight of a "Grain." The smallest measure of weight in use, the t/rain. has its name from heinsr oricr O ? WW in ally the weight of a grain of wheat. A Btatute passed in England iii 1266, ordained that thirty-two grains of wheat, taken from the middle of the ear, or head, and well dried, should make a pennyweight, twenty of which should make an ounce, while twelve ounces were to make a pound. The pound, therefore consisted then of 7680 grains. Some centuries later the pennyweight was divided into twenty-four grains, which make the troy pound, as how used, 5760 grains. The penneweight was the exact weight of the old silver penny.?St. Louis Republic. Christmas Joys. First Darling?"What did you do on Christmas day?" Second Darling?"I sucked the paint off a red hor3e.'' First Darling?"I swallowed a cent and a handful of sawdust." A Basil ror Dangerous urcupauuus. One of the curious features of modern life is the extent to which the most hazardous trades are overrun by applicants for work. The electric light companies never find any difficulty in obtaining all the linemen they need, notwithstanding the fact that the dangers of that kind of business have been demonstrated times without number. The men who work in factories where wall paper is made frequently joke one another over the tradition that a man's life, in this trade, is shortened ten years. A similar belief is prevalent in factories where leather papers are made, and among men who have to handle them and whose lungs are said to become impeded by inhalidg the dust arising from such papers. In certain other factories, where brass ornaments and fittings are made, the air is laden with very fine brazen particles, which are, when inhaled, especially irritating to the lungs. But one of the most.singular advertised calls - 1 mao arror nrintpf} An." I or empiujrtv tuai r _r peared recently iu a Connecticut newspaper, signed by a firm engaged in the business of building towers. It called for applicants only among those who are young,strong and courageous, and closed by saying: "We warn all seekers for this job that it is of the most dangerous nature, and that few men continne in it more than a few years. In fact, i^jls almost certain death to the workman who follows this occupation."?Medical Age. The British Medical Journal throws nore light oil the mysteries of jamnaking. An inquiring stranger, it lays, who was being shown over a British wine manufactory, was struck - > > ? Dy several mga muuuua ui wimsuu lust. These he was told were the efuse of the wine presses in which ;he juice of raspberries, currants, and )ther fruit used in the business was attracted for making wine. As it is leldom that anything is wasted in an English factory, an inquiry was made is to the form in which these mounds if dust would re-enter the market; .he visitor was jfomptly told that it vas disposed of to jam-makers to give -he appearance of fruit to the pulp of urnip, vegetable, apple, or what not, vhich forms the basis of the confecrion. It would seem that almost tnything will do to make jam of, as ,he chemist can produce a flavor to mitate every kind of fruit. It is ^mraonly supposed that orange-peel s picked up in the streets wherewith o make marmalade. Probably this s a slander on the preserve maker; >ut, according to the report of a case leard this year in a metropolitan poice court, rotten oranges in the conlition of a "black pulpy substance," ind "quite unfit to eat," as the inpector very sapiently remarked, are onsidered by the owners of the fruit is good enough to be "chopped up for narmalade." Oranges for this "excelent substitute for butter at breakast," it was shown, cost only one lollar a box, whereas fruit for eating :osts three dollars. A disquieting act, indeed. Tiiere is nothing remarkabio or Inrcdible In the story that a large lumber of diamonds were smuggled a the beak of a pelican. Lots of gems an be put In a bilL Ask WJ Jeweler t this is not so. ?' ; ?[ I - >.' ' " *4, ? - '> - - - . > TEMPERANCE. jrr STOET, HARM? My story, marm? Well, really, now, I hare, not mhch to say- ; ? Bat if you'd called a year ago and then again to-day, No need of words to tell yon, marm, for your own eyes could see How much the temperance cause has dona for my dear John and me. A year ago we hadn't flour to make a batch of bread. And many a night these little ones went sapperl ess to bed; Now look at the larder, marm?there's sugar, nour ana tea; v. . . , And that is what the temperance cause has done for John and me. The pail that holds the butter John used to nil with beer: 1 ? But he hasn't spent a cent .for drink for two. # . ' months ana a year; He pays his debts,,is strong and well as any man can be# And that is what the temperance cause has done for John and me. He used to sneak along the streets, feeling so mean and low, , And he didn't like to meet the folks he used . to know: But now he iooks them in the face and step* off bold and free; And this is what the temperance cause has done for John and me. A year ago these little boys want strolling through the streets. With ecarcely clothing on. their backs and nothing on their feet-; But now they've shoes ana stockings and " 'y garments, as you see, And that is what the tempeance cause hai done for John and me. ' s The children were afraid of him?his com- T ing stopped their play; But now when supper time -4s o'er and the table cleared away, r The boys all frolicaround hjs chair, the baby cmriD8 nisjtnec; -. ? . T: And this is what the temperance cause has done for John and me. Ah, those days are o'er of sorrow and ot pain, The children have their fattier back, and 1 my John again! I pray excuse my weepiag, ma'am?they're tears of joy, to see How much the temperance cause has doift for my dear Jonn and me. Each morning when he goes to work I up- Y ward look'and say: "Oh, Heavenly Father, 'Jielp dear J?hn to . keep his pledge to-day f And every night, before I sleep, thank God on bended knee For irhat the temperance cause has done for my dear John and me. ?New York Herald. Btnrapro the gatjstlkt. , Th? Jtt>*ninn Pn*f. In Hoitkt gntandM air. vice in calling attention, by diagrams and the reports of special investigations, to the proximity in this city of saloons and public schools. There is a law forbidding the location of a salopn in the "immediate vicinity" of a school. Tet in one ca&a, Grammar School No. 29, at 97 Greenwich street, there are twenty saloons within 200 feet and tweoty-flve within a block aud a half, Cases nearly as bad are numerous. It is impossible in many, probably in most, case* for the growing boys and girls to go to school in this city without running a gauntlet of saloons. This is one of those things that would strike us all as an incredible outrage were we not so familiar with such tales in connec- ' ti on with the drink evil. And yet this con* dition has prevailed foryears, and the Chris- v-i' tian conscience in this city has grown seemingly torpid on the subject. . There is no agitation over it, no excitement, to revolt of outraged public sentiment, no thunder and , lightning from the pulpits on Fifth avenue or anywhere else hardly.. The actions of the Excise Commissioners are outrageous; but of all the outrages perpetrated, the placid in- ' .-..rj oifference of these churchly communitiee is : the most incredible. There .ought to be an uprising of such intensity that all ordinary . political issues would be lost sight of nnoi these dens of Iniquity were cleaned away not only from the schools hut from, the homes of the public.?New York Voice. - ' __ THE POWXB Of EXAMPLE. A well-known Christian merchant of-this city not long ago bad an urgent telegram calling him to see an old friend residing in a suburban town, says the Temperance Advocate. When he arrived et the boose of ^ his friend he found the latter very ill, and only expected to live ,a few hoars. This friend asked to see him alone, and when by themselves, said ' 'My doctor tells me that x can live at the most but twenty-four hoars. I wanted ones more to aee yoa,and to say to you something that I have never told youIn early life, i\ as young men, tbey had met in this city, in busnietss relations, and it was at that period that the close bond of personal friendship was formed. They went much together in society, and bad great happiness in each : ,V other. The one wtio was about to pass away had in his young manhood, a cousin, a beautiful young lady, in this city, in whose >. society both these friends passed much time. On one occasion she gave an elegant party, at which both were, in attendance. During the evening when refreshments were served she came to the friend of. her cousin, and : asked him to drink with her glass of wine. yery fond of her, the young man was sorely " . perplexed, bnt finally declined, saying: "I will do anything for you that I properly can, bat I cannot drink the glass of wine. Turning from him with somewhat an air Of displeasure, she said: >TT7?11 T will t-r, ? ihap mniin) ho ' 4 will drink it wfth me." Sue crossed the room to her cousin, extended the invitation to him with the air of confident expectation, but he also declined, greatly to her astonishment, and not a little to her chargin. In , f this last interview, many years after the - ' Ktyin question, one thing which passsd ween these two old friends was the statement of the one who was about to die; which he wished to make as something of a confession to the effect that he was at the time an observer across the room of what transpired with his cousin, and toough he h4d > : never before thought of abstaining from intoxicating beverages, to the social use o? which he had always been accustomed, influenced by the example of his friend in de- \ | clining, he also determined to decline. He : wished now to make acknowledgement of his gratitude for this eventful incident in his life, which he had no doubt had saved ' : Jm him from excesses and ruiu, which, in his j case, would have almost certainly followed ? H the continuauce of the drink habit. ' "I In this incident may be seen a practical illustration of the power of right example. Its influence is sometimes more potent and tar-reaching than words of counsel alone, however good they may be. May every one, young and old, realize in the light of this , dying statement of one friend to another, the great value and importance of the abstain- , er's example to others. j TEMPERANCE NEWS AND NOTES. Mr. Spurgeon signed the abstinence pledge " in 1866. If those who are searching: after & "sure cure for drunkenness" woul I quit drinking while they are looking for it they would find it. /gj Dr. Norman Kerr says: Total abstinence is the surest way, all other things ba- . . ing equal, of attaining the highest physical, mental, moral and every other land o? health." '1 The Rev Sam Jones says: *1 understand , that by actual mathematics it has been shown that we (the Americans) send to the heathen countries 13.000 barrels of whisky to one missionary. The devil dosen't care how maDy missionaries you send, if you send that amount of whissy aloug with them." J. W. Burns, of Glasgow, with the largest model lodging house m the world, aud also - the superintendent of another Glasgow model lodging, says that almost every case he had come across of men who had fallen from good positions to inhabit the lodging house was t caused by drink, and if the public homes were oDly closet the homes might be closed too, or there would soon be but little need lor them. The undergraduates of Cambridge, England, have taken to drinking tea after dioner instead of wine. But though novel at Cambridge, this practice has b?en in vogue at Oxford for seventy years, the innovation having been brought about by Newman and Froude, even then famous, woo induced moat of the other Fellows of Oriel to give up wine in the common room after dinner and substitute tea.