Newspaper Page Text
mums •'«ci. Volume XX2. Helena, Montana, Thursday, May 3, 1886. No. 23 <fl|clilccltlii'ÿjcralil. R. E. FISK D. W. FISK. Ä. J. FISK Publisher8 and Proprietors. Largest Circulation of any Paper in Montana Rates oi Subscription. WEEKLY "HERALD : On«* Year. (In advance).............................83 00 Ktx Months, (In advance)............................... J Three Months, (In advance)......................... 1 00 When not paid for in advance the rate will be Four Dollars per year! Postage, in all cases, Prepaia. DAILY HERALD: Ci t y Subscribers.delivered by carrier SI .00 a mon th One Year, by mail, (in advance)................. «9 00 Mi Months, by mail, (in advance)............... * 00 Three Months, by mail, (in advance)........... 2 50 If not paid in advance, 812 per annum. [Entered at the Postoffice at Helena as second class matter.] JVA11 communications should be addressed to KISK BROS., Publishers, Helena, Montana. SAILING. There's a golden track o'e • the billows foam, And the wind blows fresh and free ; And out with the breeze my boat would roam, But I wait, dear love, for thee ; In the sun's broad trail we will sail and sail, And never a care have we. And we ll touch at the strand of the beautiful land That lovers alone may see ; At the musical, magical land of bliss Tiiat gladdens the eye in love's sweet kiss— At the land, sweetheart, if we were to miss. Ah, what would our voyage tie? We're afloat, we're afloat. How the strong sails fill And the sun-kissed bubbles gleam. As the severed waves like driven snow heap from the prow and backward flow In a swift-uniting stream. And see ns we gently fall and rise On the glittering crest of the spray. There's the glistening ebony flash of fins Of the dolphins at their play. Yonder, far away, is a line of black, A penciling faint on the deep blue sky. That tells of the hurrying steamer's track. And now it fades from the watching eye. Here, near at hand, is a fishing smack, With the stain of rust on hulk and sail ; And there a yacht on a shoreward tack. Whose masts ne'er lient to an angry gale. Rush on, my boat, for the goldsn sun Jtips in the heaving sea. And the west is bright with rosy light, boon homeward we must flee— boon safe from the gathering winds of night, In the haven we must be. Come, sit you here by my side, sweetheart, Gome, sit you here by my side. Asjhomeward bound we swiftly go. In your heart will my heart confide; We will talk of all that is pure and fair, And ever in trust abide, Juki never a cloud shall make us afraid II Itll lv. . ... o.i— „..u„ '•EVEN THIS WILL PASS AWAY." Of all the proverbs, quaint and sweet, That burdened sou s eo gently greet. As some wise voice from ancient c ay. There sure is none in whose lielief The worn heart finds such sweet relief As "Even this will pass away 1" W! ien weary bands from early dawn 'Till lengthening eve must labor on, And know not surcease day by day; How gladly comes the sweet refrain. That echoes o'er and o'er again, "This, even this, will pass away." \V1 ien burdens that are hard to bear Would sink the soul in black despair. And whitening lips refuse to pray ; Faith's lovely face e'en then will glow, And sweet her voice that whispers low, "But even this will pass away." W hen earth to earth and dust to dust Is read above our heart's best trust, And we in anguish turn away, The bitter cup less bitter seems. When through its dregs the bright truth gleams, That even this will pass away. Yes, even this: With grief profound We stand beside the new-made mound, And long to greet the coming day, Whpn weary feet have found a rest. When, bands are folded o'er the breast, And all life's woes have passed away. A RURAL REMINISCENCE. The sermon was long and the preacher was prosy. The cushion was soft and the corner was cosy ; And musing, I knew. By my side in the pew. Was a dear little face that was dimpled and rosy. A stray lût of lace and the curls of a feather Lay close to m v cheek, and I didn't care whether The sermon was long. Or flirting was wrong In a lonely' back pew, as we knelt down to gether. In reading the prayers we had one book be tween us ; So sweet was the smile that nobody seen us, While l>ent on our knees (Oh, how Cupid did tease!) 1 had stolen a kiss, with the prayer-book to screen us. In the oriel window the sunlight was gleaming. In my drowsy old brain 1 felt love fancies teem ing ; Then ray heart gave a thump— but my head got a bump On the back of the pew—I had only been dream ing. QUESTIONING. Daisies in the summer meadow, Fern leaves in the woodland shadow— Why they grow and why they blow, Know'st thou why? Nay, not I ! Dream« of the happy days and places, Visions of fond hearts and faces— Why they come and why they roam, Know'st thou why? Nay, not 11 Wouldst thou stay the flowers from blooming? Wouldst thou ■ tay thy heart from roaming Where the beams of love lit dreams ('bann the eye ? Nay, not I ! A FARMER'S VIEW OF THE CHURCH. Well, wife. I've hail a round with Wâyne 'Bout jinin' our church ; He tried the sceptic dodge on me— The argument of smirch. Says he, "Ix>ok at your members now, There's Jones got drunk, and' Swem Will cheat a friend to make a trade ; Ain't I as good as them ?" Says I, "A butcher buying stock Does just the way you do ; lie hunts around the cattle yard, And finds the meanest two; Then every offer that he makes, An' every one he hears. Is coupled with the sneering words— 'Jest look at them two eteers !' You pick the meanest Christians out. An' then with tricky jeers. You run the whole church down by that— Jest look at them two steers!' No farmer's fooled by that old trick, An' so you can't afford To risk your soul in tryin' it Fpon the all-wise Lord." AFTER HIS BATH. Senator Conkling at Mammoth Hot Springs in I 883. Continuation of Professor Henderson's Sketch of the Visit of the Dis tinguished New Yorker to the National Park. Mammoth Hot Springs, April 24.— [Special Correspondence of the Herald.]— About 4 p. m. Senator Conkling bent his stately head and entered the old log post office, which was also occupied by me as my office as Assistant Superintendent of the Yellowstone National Park, and mak ing me one of his most graceful bows, with hat in hand, as if I were a woman revered or a monarch crowned, said: "Doctor, (for I must call you so,) when you left me in my bath in that delightful languor that succeeds great pain suddenly subdued, I was in a semi-comatose state, and neither thanked you nor even asked your name, and having learned the latter through Mr. Hobart, I have come in per son to thank you and to reward you for your prompt attention and marvelons treatment in this Park, where everything is marvelous." Setting his hat upon the counter, and with a graceful and most courteous recog nition of my danghter, Jennie Henderson, who advanced from behind her letter boxes and seemed as much astonished as I was at this remarkable speech as at the lordly and deliberate manner in which it was uttered, he drew out his pocket book and seemed to await my naming the amonnt of my fee as his medi cal attendant. "Senator, as a doctor I am so much of an amateur that I have never yet charged a fee, and if I relieved you of pain by the application of so simple a remedy, that is reward enough. But if you think you owe me anything yon will balance our account by giving me yonr autograph in our visit or's record, and the names also of the la dies and gentlemen who accompany yon in this your first visit to Wonderland." "Well, professor, you got me out of a trouble caused by my own stupidity or the laches of some one else, and now you pro pose to let me off much easier than the medical fraternity, a fellowship with whom you repudiate, usually do. Let me have that record and I shall most cheerfully enter a name that is more widely known than honored, I fear." T.nnia laid the wnnrd nn th« nnnnter and set a chair for our distinguished visi tor inside, and I advanced and occupied the place where he had stood on entering, to witness the manner of his doing it. For I confess that I was profoundly in terested in every word, look and move ment of this remarkable man, whose elo quence once swayed and dominated the greatest political party daring one of the greatest historical epochs of modern times, and whose eccentricities or pride had made him an object of psycological interest to every student of sociology. I was scon to witness one of these wind blown strains that not only indicate the direction of a tide but show the causes that lead to the rise and fall alike of men and empires. The pen with which the senator at tempted to write his name was either too new or too old. At all events, the ink would not flow fast enough to suit his no tion of what a good pen ought, and, with a petulance as astonishing as the cause was trivial, he raised his right hand and partly addressing the pen and his two au ditors said : "I can't write with that pen and shan't write it!" And dashed the pen to the further end of the counter whereit ignomiDiously fell to the floor, as many of his own Popes and ambitions had failen. Strange to say, his mental perturbation was contagious, and I at once tired up with an aDger and petulence equal to his own and exclaimed, with one hand on the door knob ready to make my exit when I had properly given vent to my pent up Utica : "All right, Senator ! If a man of yonr years and experience cannot rise above the fetichism that vents its venom on a piece of cold steel, I—don't—want—your—sig nature, and—I shan't—have it !" The Senator half rose, and with a com plex and indescribable movement he with his left hand arrested Jennie in the act of lifting up that small instrument that is said to be mightier than the sword, and with the right hand arrested my attempt to leave the room, and with a voice half command, half persuasion, said : "HendersoD, stop ! Miss HendersoD, I will pick up that pen, and I apologize for my rudeness. Your reproof, Mr. Hender son, was timely, temperate and just, and I—ac—cept—it !" He walked to where the pen had fallen and nicking it up, sat down, and with the utmost deliberation dipped his pen, the ink flowed admirably, ami he wrote in a plain, bold hand " Jnly 30,1683, Governor Geo. Boutwell, Boston, Mass.; Iioscoe Conkling, New York: Mrs. Conkling, Utica, N. Y. ; Miss Gertrude Herkimer Coxe, Kinderhook. N. Y.; Geo. C. Gorham, editor Rep'n., Washington, D. C. ; Judge Alfred Conkling Cox, Utica, N. Y." This record and these signatures are now of historic vaine and becomes a part of the history of the Yellowstone Park. He held out his hand and grasped mine with a vigor that admonished me how fortunate I was that it was that of a friend and not an enemy. It made me think of the advice of Polonins to Laertes. "The fra uds thou hast, once their adoption tried, Grapple them to *.hy soul with hoops ol steel." That sterling, honest grasp made me his friend forever. In one moment I forgot all and forgave all his petulance and spleen. He made me feel that I had been honored in having served him and that he was aright royal and im perial leader of men. He could neither fawn nor flatter, so that words of com mendation from his lips were worth cent per cent, and meant all they conveyed, and more than most men conld express in so few words. He dosed that interview with words that are all the more precious to men now that the lips that uttered them are sealed in eternal silence. "Professor, I am told by one who knows, that yon are the acknowledge student and interpreter of these grand terraces caves, boiling lakes, living, dead and dying cones, and that yon have given all these substantial somethings a local habitation and a name. Therefore I ask that you will do me the honor of being my interpreter, guide, philosopher and friend to-morrow, and if need be a monitor. Onr party will include those whose names I have put in your record, and I trust my friendship will do you no barm if not good." "Senator, I like yon ! Not because you are immaculate, but because you are in tensely human and thoughtfully honest. Adj- man may err, but there are few gifted men who can see an error and frankly ac knowledge it, as you have done to day. And I am all the more delighted that you honor me by permitting me to escort you and your party over the terraces, the stair way of by-gone centuries, where the resur rected rocks have risen iDto the light and taken forms more beautiful than man, Nature's own plagiarist born, can copy, far less steal and call it his alone by right divine. Yes, it will be a pleasure to show you these terraces that have occupied my thoughts and interest me next to that mystery of all mysteries, man." So we parted, to meet again on Jnly 31, 1883, to spend one day among the terraces. G. L. Henderson. WHEN 10 WEAR JEWELRY. [From the New York Sun J How m8iiy of wealth are there in New York—or elsewhere, for that matter—who understand and practice the art of wearing of jewelry with the same degree of perfec tion that they evince in dealing with the remainder of the toilet ? It is safe to say that they are comparatively few. Mrs. Wm. Whitney is one, Mrs. Marshall O. Roberts another, and Baroness Blanc a third, while a dozen others might be men tioned, forming, however, a very small minority of society women. This defect in the management of gems was never more noticeable than now. when the severity of street toilet is also a severe strain npon the natural vanity of the upstart whose hus band has suddenly "struck it rich." A wo man to be attired in perfect taste nowadays must change her jewelry as often as she changes her dress. It is true that there are women who pre tend to lead "sets" who go the extreme of wearing no ornaments of this soit at all npon the street during the day. There is no reason why a woman should not wear jewelry all the time, if she can afford it ; but the great point is to know just what lo wear and when to wear it. A well-known society lady, whose exquisite taste in mat ters of detail is proverbial, when approach ed on this subject during an afternoon call replied : "There is no cast iron rule about such things, of course—simply a line beyond which it is not safe to venture." "Bur wnar is yonr loea, tor instance, or how a lady should manage her jewelry throughout an entire day ?" "Well, I think that on her first appear ance in the morning she might wear id her ears small, plain drops, a siDgle small bracelet, an unpretentious brooch, and a tiny watch chain about the neck. Later, when out riding she should wear screw earriDgs of diamonds, pearls or torquoise. Her watch chain should hang across the breast in several thin festoons. The brooch should be more pronounced, too— such a? a large insect. She may wear two bracelets, that on one arm perfectly plain, the other ornamented, but not heavily. Both should be of gold. While entertain ing friends at luncheon she should select long pendant earrings (which are gradually comiDg back into favor), a necklace and locket. Her watch should have a light, queer chain with a ball or other charm at the end. On one wrist she may wear a rather heavy bracelet, on the other two thin ones. As to rings, she may wear sev eral, if her hands are pretty. If they are not, she should never draw attention to them in this way. "In the aftemooD, when she goes shop ping or calling, she should wear instead of pendants small knobs or close-setting ear rings and a single bracelet ontside her glove. In dressing for dinner the most im portant change is made. Tell me how the women about you at dinner wear their jewels, and I will tell you their origin. I think a lady should then wear handsome pendant ear-rings, with brooch to match, and small but elegant bracelets. She may a'so wear the richest rings she possesses, as they are here seen to the best advantage. "For the theatre much less display should be made. Solitaire ear-rings—pendant if preferred—a necklace withont pendants, several bracelets, a simple ornament in the hair and a large Drooch in the corsage would do very well. "All this applies almost equally to mar ried or single women. But m attending a reception or ball there must be the cus tomary distinction. Young unmarried ladies should not venture beyond a neck lace composed of a double gold chain, with pearl clasps, and an ornament in front of pearl and turquoises. Married women, on the contrary, may wear diamonds in profu sion—or pearls, if they prefer them—in necklace and earrings, and an armlet of plain gold near the left shoulder. A dia mond ornament for the hair adds to her toilet. "Chnrch ? Oh, yes. I had almost for gotten church. Well, at divine service a lady should wear no more jewelry than she did in the early morning, when she first appeared on the scene." A Dish of Crow. New York Tribune. "Daniel," said the President softly, as he stood at a window of the White House in jAe gloaming and dreamily watched the dim outline of a Potomac dredger making fail down the river. "What is it, sire?" "Do you recollect the exact wording of that reference to second terms in my letter of acceptance?" "Not precisely, sire, but it was to the effect that second terms were not beneficial to the nation, and should not be sought by patriotic Presidents." "H-m!" A moment's silence fell upon the room, and then : "Daniel," "Yes, sire." "Among the game in the White House larder is there any—any—crow ?" "I think there is, sire ; there generally is." "Have it made into a pie, Daniel." "To-day?" "Immediately." And then silence came again, broken only as the Preeident drammed softly on the window sill. AMONG THE TERRACES. Senator Conkling and Party Viewing the Phenomnal Features of Mam moth Springs on Their Park Tour of 1883. Mammoth Hot Springs, April 26,1888. —[Special correspondence of the Herald.] A four horse carriage and a few saddle horse* took Mr. Conkling s party up Ter race Mountain as far as the OraDge Geyser. Mrs. ConkliDg was in very poor health and "these dreadful bills," as she called them, that we encountered between the Hotel Plateau and Narrow Guage Terrace, upset what of nervous energy she started with, so she decided to return with the carriage, leaving the Senator, his niece, Miss Coxe, and her brother, Jndge Coxe, to continue the journey over the terraces on foot. The phenomenal features of the Orange Geyser were of profound interest to all and elicited some reflections that are well worth noting. The form and color suggested to me its name early in 1882. The two pulsating jets of boiling water rising from an un known depth and generally surging over its walls in rhythmic waves, de positing at each pulsation, invisible mole cules which become beautiful micioscopic cups, containing a tiny drop of water, and at the outer margins aud on the walls and at the base of the cone, becoming larger and larger until they contain many gal lons, or even barrels. Then there are billions of these cups lying beneath each other as the entombed coral insect lies bnried beneath their living successors. Then there is a par-boiled forest that is being buried in a magnesian tomb as sure ly, slowly and pitiously as the voracious reptile devours its crushed and quivering victim. "Why must this marvelous creation of inanimate nature involve and devour her evergreen, arboreal children?" said the vivacious and poetic Miss Coxe. "Your nature is as void of pity as her laws; she is as blind as Cupid and as silent as the Sphy ix," said her brother in a judicial tone. "Gertrude is right, for Nature is at once the creator and oestroyer. But there is this to be said in her favor, that though she seems to be deaf, dumb and blind, she has given us ears to hear her uncon scious music, tongues to voice her emo tions, and eyes to see her wonder-working modes and judginen s with which to comprehend some of her processes at least. But do you notice how like our human world is this terrace building world? These cups, from the least to the greatest, have each their day and all their doom ! They are in turn buried and forgotten ! Their torn» «ntl size are tha mara accidents of their nearness or distance from the creative vortex ; but time, the pitiless democrat, levels them all at last !" "Oh, well, uncle, let us drink the cup of joy that nature so generously bestows, and let Time and Death work their sweet wills, as they surely shall whether we will or no. I am glad that we are far enough away from the creative vortex to dream of being ourselves creators, or favorites of that made alike admirer and admired." So saying. Miss Gertrude skipped mer rily around the summit of the oraDge, pat ted the trees that were haviDg so cleanly but so hot a coffin, and proposed that we see something else. The Senator seemed sad, and the judge judicial, hut Miss Coxe, with that woman's instinct, felt that as mirth and melancholy are door neighbors.it was best to laugh and grow fat in the sunshine. Passing Bath Lake aud the Crank Tree Terrace, both of which were much ad mired. one for its transparency, the other for its twisticity. lor the terrace looked like an unfoldiDg scroll, and the trees that grow out of it seem to have been twisted and gnarled and bent and bungled as many humans are, but all in perfect harmony with that creative flat of vortex and envi ronment. The Jacob's Ladder Terrace occupied our attention for over an hour. The Frog Pond at the west end of this terrace dis charges its water at a temperature ot 45° into a bed of sulphur, in which it effeiv. s:s actively, and is then forced into a fissure that runs through the whole length of the terrace, over a hundred yards, and after reaching the east end of the terrace, at least eighty feet above the lake, is dis charged in a double jet at a temperature of 108° ; the water then flows down the walls of Fairy Terrace, building myriads of caps at the Orange, and underneath the wall are the three famous caves, Her mit's, Stalactite and Stygian. The latter is literally a cave of the dead. Even its entrance is covered with dead beetles, birds, mice, and whatever comes within the baleful death-dealing carbonic acid. The writer has yet to give his experience in attempting to explore this den of the Basalisk, one glance of whose eyes expels the spark of life from every moital thing. The Hermit's Cave has much more ex ternal than internal beauty. The Fairy Terrace is as Miss Coxe said, "one of Nature's most beautiful works of art." The yellows, greens and browns are most delicately shaded and blend into each in veritical stripes in degrees as impercept ible as that of the rainbow's prismatic hues. Great pendents hang over the eaves of the cave and retain all the beanty of the walls above, but in deeper shades. I must defer the description of our entrance into and exploration of the stal actite cave to another chapter, as the con versation is of more interest now that it has become classic ground by the addition of that haman increment that consecrates even a desert where a Bannockburn or a Shiloh has been fought. G. S. Henderson. Some Interesting Figures. A man of a mathematical turn of mind made an interesting calculation as to the amount of whisky consumed by a steady drinker who takes on an average twenty drinks a day. This wonld give 140 drinks a week, or 7,280 a year. Supposing it true that a man can keep np such an average for twenty years, he would have taken at the end of that time the enormous total of 145.600 drinks. The average drink is about seventy to the gallon. Dividing 145.600 by 70, it is seen that the man has imbibed 2,080 gallons of whisky, or about fifty-seven barrels, allowing thirty-six gal lons to the barrel. Supposing that the man 's 145,600 drinks cost him on an aver age ten cents a drink, it is seen that he has Bpent a handsome little fortune in the coarse of twenty years. QUEER LANGUAGE?. Cnrious .Means of Intercommunica tion Between Savages. [St. James' Gazette.] At the last meeting of the Berlin Anthro pological Society, Lieutenant Quedenfeldt, a German officer who has lived on Gomero island, one of the Canary group, described a whistling language which is used by the inhabitants. The language does not con sist ol any arbitrary series of- signals or sounds ; it is described as ordinary speech translated into articulate whistling, each syllable having its owu appropriate tone. The Gomero uses both fingers and lips when whistling, and Lieutenant Quedeu feldt asserts that he can carry on a conver sation with a neighbor a mile off, who perfectly Understands all be is saying. The practice is confined to Gomero island and is quite unknown in the other islands of the archipeligo. This adoption ot the whistling language is said to be due to the peculiar eological construction of Gomero island. It is traversed by numerous gullies and deep ravines running out iu all direc tions from the central plateau. As they are not bridged, they can only be coseed with great difficulty ; hence a man living within a stone's throw of another in a straight lice has often to go round many miles when he wishes to see or speak to his neighbor. This, it is conjecture!, led to the adoption of whistling as a useful means of communication, which has grad ually assumed the proportions of a true substitute for speech. It is described as being anything but unpleasant to the ear. This reminds one of the drum language of the natives of the Cameroon?, mentioned in Buchholz'8 book on We*t Africa, by means of which the most complicated messages can be conveyed to villages at a distance when occasion necessitates it. For this purpote a peculiarly shaped dram is employed. By dividing the surface into uneven halves the instrument on being struck may be made to yield two dis tinct notes. By these and shortening aud lengthening the intervals between each note, a code is established, with a regular sequence of taps, strokes, and intervals capable of expressing every syllable in the language. All the natives understand this code ; aud so highly elabom'ed is it that a chief can by its means summon to his presence any villager whom be desires to see, intimating to the latter at the same titre the purpose for which he is required. In this way, too, messages can be sent from village to village over wide stretches of country —the drummer in one hamlet transmitting to the next the signals he hears—and with extraordinary rapidity. Buchloz had proof on one occasion of the utility of this drum language and its capa bilities as a medium of com munication. The negro who had charge of bis canoe obtained leave o îe morning to attend to some private bus iness of his own which took him to the other side of the river. The man rema'ned away an unreasonable time, and Buchholz got very angry, as he was waiting to leave the place. Another negro suggested that they should drum for him. The drummer was sent for and instructed to inform the missiDg servant that his master was very angry with him, and that he wa to return at once. In a few minutes the man returned with the inevitable apologies for the length of time he had been away. He had perfectly understood the message drummed out to him, as Buchholz ascer tained by inquiring of him. Equally curious is the so-called sign lan guage, or finger speech of Oriental traders, largely employed on the east coast of Afri ca, in the direction of Zanzibar. Walking through a market-place in this region of the world the traveler will often witness a strange sight. A couple of grave, long bearded Arabs will step aside, each will put his hand up the other's sleeve, and the pair will then begin apparently to pinch each other's fingers for a few minutes. Often the performance will be varied One will unroll his long turban cloth, or perhaps lift up his long mantle and then cover his hand, and concealed beneath this the pinching of the fingers will proceed as be fore. The initiated know that this is a method of bargaining by means of a code of finger speech understood by eastern traders from Souther Arabia and Northern Africa to the borders of Persia. It has been adopted in the first instance for a simple reason. In the east, especially along the coast of the Red sea, Zanzibar and Southern Arabia, all business is transacted in the open air. And iu all such transactions the by Standers, idlers, riffraff and meddlesome busibodifs generally contrive to have a good deai to say, tendering their advice to both buyer and seller. The unwritten etiquette of the East requires that such friendly counsel should not be resented. But as the merchants and dealers find it an unmitigated nuisance and a great hin drance to business, they have adopted a certain code of finger signs, which they exchange when bargaining, with their hands concealed under their sleeves or torban cloth. Each finger and each joint of a finger represents a certain figure. So the pair can bargain by the hour—as they often do—to their hearts' content, and none of the noisy and gaping busy bodies around them be any the wiser for it. 8180,000 For Patti. Mine. Patti is in South America. From the point in view of the money-maker, this tonr will probably be the culminating point in th# career of the highest paid prima donna of musical history. For thirty pnblic performances she receives §180,000, or $6,000 an evening. This sum guaranteed to her even if the receipts are only §5. Bnt ander most ordinarily favor able circumstances she can make $12,500 in one evening. That means that in fonr evenings Mme. Patti will be able to earn as mnch, and more than the president of the United States receives in the twelve calendar months for his services to the country. Difference In Taste. Two friends met in the Omaha depot the other day, one from Chicago and the other from Los Angeles. "Where are you going?" asked the former. "Going to Los Angeles to spend the winter. And you "I'm going to spend the winter in Chicago," replied th* Los Angeles man.—Texas Siftings. ASTRONOMICAL SCIENCE. Its Progress Daring the Nineteenth Century. [From the Sidereal Messenger | Looking back at the year 1800, we are astonished at the change. The compara tively simple science of the heavenly bodies known to our predecessors, almost perfect so far as it went, incurious of what lay beyond its grasp, has developed into a body of manifold powers and parts, each with its separate mode and means of growth, full of strong vitality, but ani mated by a restless and unsatisfied spirit, haunted by the sense of problems unsolved, and tormented by conscious impotence to sound the immensities it perpetually con fronts. Knowledge might then be said to be bounded by the solar system; but even the solar system presented itself under an aspect strangely different from that it now wears. It consisted ot the sun, seven planets, and twice as many satelites, all circling harmoniously and in obedience to a universal law, by the compensating action of which the indefinite stability of their mutual relations was secured. The occasional incursion of a comet, or the periodical presence of a single such wan derer, chained by planetary or solar attrac tion, to prevent escape to outer space, availed nothing to impair the symmetry of the majestic spectacle. Now, not alone have the asceitained lim its of the system been widened by 1,000, 000,000 of miles, with the addition of one more giant planet and six satellites to the aDcient classes of its members, but a com plexity has been given to its constitution bafiling description or thought. Two hun dred and seventy circulating planetary bodies bridge the gap between Jupiter and Mars, the complete investigation of the movements of any one of which would overtask the energies of a lifetime. Mete orites, strangers apparently to the funda mental ordering of the solar household, swarm nevertheless, by millions in every cranny of its space, returning at regular intervals like the comets so singularly as sociated with them, or sweeping across it with hyperbolic velocities, brought per haps from some distant star. And each of these cosmical grains of dust has a theory far more complex than that of Jupiter; it bears within it the secret of its origin, and fulfills a function in the universe. The sun itself is no longer a semi-fabulous, fire girt globe, but the vast scene of the p'ay of forces as yet imperfectly known to us, offering a boundless field for the most ardu ous and inspirmg researches. AmoDgst the pianets, the widest variety in physical hab itudes is seen to prevail, and each is recog nized as a world apart, inviting inquiries which, to be effective, must necessarily be special and detailed. Even our own moon threatens to break loose from the tram mels of calculation, and commits "errors " which sap the very foundations of the lunar theory, and suggest the formidable necessity for its revision. Nay, the steadfa-t earth has forfeited the implicit confidence placed in it as a time keeper. and questions relating to the sta bility of the earth's axis, ami the constancy of the earth's rate of rotation are among those which it behooves the future to an swer. Everywhere there is multiformity and change, stimulating a curiosity which the rapid development of methods of re search offers the possibility of at least par tially gratifying. Outside the solar system the problems which demand a practical solution are all infinite in number and extent. And these have all arisen and crowded upon our thoughts within less than one hundred years. For sidereal science became a re cognized branch of astronomy only through Herschel's discovery of the revolutions of double stars in 1802. Yet already it may be and has been called "the astronomy of the future," so rapidly has the develop ment of a keen and universal interest at tended and stimulated the growth of power to investigate this sublime subject. What has been done is little—is scarcely a be ginning ; yet it is much in comparison with the total blank of a century past. Aud our knowledge will, we are easily persuaded, appear in turn the merest ignorance to those who come after us. Yet it is not to be despised, since by it we seach up groping fiDgers to touch the hem of the garment of the Most High. Ate 53 Raw Eggs. Ansonia, Conn., April 20.— Michael Beegan, a liquor dealer of New HaveD, who weighs 225 pounds, challenged James Brennan, a farmer, who had just brought in eight dozen eggs, to a raw-egg-eating contest for §10 a side last night. The farmer consented, and at 6 o'clock hey cracked the first egg. Beegan swal lowed his with sherry, Brennan took his from the shell. At the the twentieth egg Beegan succumbed, but Brennan kept on until 53 eggs had disappeared. Brennan has not been heard from since. He offered to bet Beegan that he conld eat five dozen eggs in an hour and a half, but the bet was not accepted. Why She Sat Down. This morning a young lady was passing a residence on whoso steps was a young man, and in front of which was a dog. In a flash her feet went out from under her and she went down on the icy walk. The dog in a playful mood rushed to her assistance, while the young man, not at all embarrassed, asked: "Did you fall?" "Well, I should think I had," said the young lady, rising and rearranging her head gear. "Yes," responded the youth, "I thought it must be funny if you sat down to play with the dog."—Albany Journal. Served Hot. ' "Madam," pleaded the tramp, piteously, "I am hungry to starving. May I take a few snowballs to eat from your side yard ?" "Certainly, my poor man," replied the woman with the big heart, kindly, "and if you like I'll warm them up for you."—New York Sun. Hie One Tbing Needful. Among the recent applications for patents Is one for a cigar selling machine, which drops out a "Havana," clips the end off and exposes a match and a piece of sand paper whenever a nickel is dropped into a slit in the side of the machine. The patent office has decided not to grant a patent until the inventor attaches a contrivance to his machine thatcvill also produce an automaton that will grab the nickel cigar and go off in the woods and smoke it.—Norristown Herald. FILLING IN AjCORNER LOT. Lewis Powell's Patient Labor of Fourteen Years, and His Job Isn't Finished Yet. "He has been at that for thirteen years." And the speaker laughed, say r The Atlanta Constitution , as he watched an old man gathering up a bucket of stones and brok eu bricks. The old man continued his work until his bucket was filled, aud then started back toward Spring street.stopping on his way to resurrect a rusty old hoop that was nearly buried in the gutter. After walking about three blocks he stop ped at the corner of Spring and James streets, and, laying the rusty hoop care fully upon a great pile of rusty hoops of all kinds and sizes, he carried the bucket to the back of the lot, a part of which was considerably lower than the front, and emptied the bucket r u! of bricks and stones He was about 70 years old apparently—ic his shirt sleeves, and wearing a dingy straw hat. He was feeble, too, and his steps were slow, but he stopped only to get a drink of water at the back door, and then ambled off with the empty backet. The little frame structure is half store and half residence. Just inside the door to the store sat a portly old lady of 60, or thereabouts. "Who is that old man yonder with that empty bucket?" "Him ! Why that's old man Lewis Powell, and he's my husband. I thought everybody knew him." "Is that all he does ?" "Fill up the lot, you mean ? No, no; he puts hoops on barrels and kegs, and raises calves and such like ; but that's his main business. He. 's been at it nigh on to four teen years." "And how much has he filled iu ?" "Ob. from the sidewalk on back. The lot is 50x80, and it used to be just one big hole. Now here on Spring street, where the front is, the bank went nearly straight down, 'cause the eye of the sewer was right there. Then the sewer was open and run in a gully the whole length of the lot and just about in the middle of the lot. Here on James street, at the side there, it wasn't so steep. The front of the old house was about half way down the bank, and the pillars at the back was over ten feet high. The house wasn't more'n twelve feet that way, either. And right at the back door the sewer passe!." "How deep was it?" "Well, right here at the front the city men measured to the sewer once, and it was a little over twenty feet below the sidewalk. The back of the lot was a little lower. It was one big hole 50x80, and almost in the bottom of it was the old house." "Fourteen years ago?" "Fourteen years ago we bought it from Jack Smith on time. It wasn't much, but me and Jenny and Joe and Stella just buckled down and worked like tigers. The neighbors made fun of us at tiist, and even the niggers thought it was funny. Now, I ain't telling you this because I'm stuck up about it, but it just shows what the Powell family has done, and it shows wbat poor folks can do if they stick at it." Didn't the old man help?" ' Yes, a little. But we had to live, and then he spent lots of his time a-fillin' up, so the brunt of the money part fell on me and the children. We bought the mud hole and he made the mud hole what it is now. Right here where the mud hole was there is a earner lot, and them what used to laugh at ns would like mighty well to own it now." And the old lady smiled as though the thought was a very plea«ant one. "Yes, sir," she continued, "it's worth a good deal now. and first thing you know, when the streets get paved along here, it will be worth a lot more than it is now." "And the old man?" "The old man has worked mighty faith ful. Little at a time he has fetched dirt and rocks and brick and trash. Then the c : ty pnt a pipe there for a sewer, and he begun at the sidewalk on spring street and filled back. The bank kept getting far ther and further, and after, I don't know how long, we built this little house on the filled-in part. The old man kept filling back, till we've got a pretty big back yard; and there's only a little part left to fill back there. You see, he never tore up the old house—.just throwed in around it and in it till he has almost buried it." "Why?" "Oh, it's just a notion of his. He didn't want to see the old house tore up, and there it is now, with just the roof stickin' out. In a little while it will be one level yard, 50 by 80, and a corner lot, too. And by the time it all gets filled up—well, me and the old man is gettin' feeble now and we won't last mach longer. But now that we are all out of debt and just enough left to do to keep the old man's hand in, it does me good to think of that old mudhole and how we had to save and slave and pinch to pay for it. And I think the old man like to 3tand there at the corner and look back how level and smooth it is, and think how it was done, a handful at a time, through the rain and the snow aud the sunshine. Fourteen years! It was a big job, but we stuck to it, and I'm restin' now, for my work is doue. The old man don't work like he used to, bnt he says his job ain't finished yet, and he keeps fillin' np." "And when his work is done--" "Then he'll rest too." Every One Ban. Omaha Man—Went to a spiritual seance down in Arizona, eh? Anything happen? Arizona Man—Well, yes. The medium went into a trance, and then announced that he was the spirit of a man who had been murdered, and that the murderer sat in the audience. "Well, well. Did anybody run?" "We all ran."—Omaha World. A Good Suggestion. Impecunious Dude—Cholly, I've got to make a waise or go to work, and I cawn't stand that, bah Jove I W%at would you wecommend? Cholly—You have a nice soft beard. Bor row a suit of female apparel and put It on, and any dime museum man will give you a job as a bearded lady on sight.—Chicago Tribune. A iiroRpn neart. "Papa," she said, as the old man came in late, "young Mr. Sampson offered himself to me to-night and I refused him. And oh, papa, I am afraid his heart is broken." "He told me about it," said the old man. "Then you met himF' "Yes, he's down at the Eagle playing bil liards."—New York Sun.