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-411^ Mining 3P Journal. J. B. ODER, Proprietor. AM INDEPENDENT NEWSPAPER. $1.50 per annum IN ADVANCE. 22" YEAR-NO. FROSTBURG, Ml)., SATURDAY, MAY <, 1893. WHOLE NTJMBER, l,m Miscellaneous Advertisements. Children © FOR PITCHER’S Castoria Castoria promotes Digestion, and overcomes Flatulency, Constipation, Sour Stomach, Diarrhoea, and Feverishness. Thus the child is rendered healthy and its sleep natural. Castoria contains no Morphine or other narcotic projHTty. “ Castoria is so well adapted to children that I recommend it as superior to any prescription known to me.” 11. A. Archeh, M. !>.. 82 Portland Ave., Brooklyn, X. V. “I use Castoria in my praetiee. and find it specially adapted to affections of children.” Alex. Robertson, M. I)., 1057 2d Ave.. New York. Thk Centattr Co., 77 Murray St., N. Y. Dec 17 Railroad Schedules, etc. Cumberland and Pennsylvania RAILROAD. SCHEDULE. Eastward. Stations. Westward. Leave. Arrive. No. 5. No. 3. No. 1. No. 2. No. 4. No. 6.* p. in. a. in. a. ni. a. in. p. in. p. in. *>ls 11 50 Hls Piedmont 1110 Him 1145 830 12 05 030 Barton 10 50 545 11 :J: 040 12 17 040 Lonncoiiin# 10 42 505 1122 052 12 29 052 Midland 10 29 522 1109 055 12.42 055 Ocean 10 20 sis Hu, 700 12 59 700 Borden Shaft 10 20 515 II it.* 708 12 47 708 FKOSTBI B<! 10 12 505 10 54 725 104 725 Morantown 952 445 10 50 752 111 752 Mount Savage 940 45s lo 28 757 110 757 Barrel I villc 958 450 1022 759 118 759 Patterson’s 9 428 10 20 745 124 745 747 120 747 Mt. Sav’jre jun 928 421 10 15 800 159 8 00. Cumberland 915 408 10 00 I>. in. p. in. a. in. a. m. p. in. p. m. Arrive. Leave. ♦On theatre nights leave Cumberland at close l performance. All trains stop at Hays street station, Cum berland. Nos. 1,2, 5 and 4 daily except Sunday. N 05.75 and 0 Tuesdays, Thursdays and Sat unlays onlv. L. M. HAM 11 .TON. Nov 19 Superintendent. ii FORGES CREEK A CUMBERLAND RAILROAD. DAILY, Sundays excepted, from (Jential Station, Cumberland. OUTWARD-BOUND TRAINS. iLeave Cumberland j 7:15 am j 1:45 p m .Arrive at Vale Summit. | 8:(K) a m | 2:30 |> m “ Midland j 8:22 ain 2:52 p m “ “ Lonaconing . | 8:30 ain | 3:00 p n RETURNING TRAINS ■Leave Lonaconing I 10:30 ain 5:00 p m Arrive at Midland | 10:30 a m 5:09 pin “ “ Vale Summit I 11:00 a m 5:30 pm “ “ Cumberland. I 11:45 a m 0:15 pm Dan’s Rock excursionists take the 7:15 a. in. train at Cumberland, and return by the 5:30 p. m. train at Vale Summit. JAMES A. MILLHOLLVSD, Aug 9 General Manager. Baltimore ami Ohio ®nnRAINS will arrive at JL and depart from CUM- Arrive | kastbounh. | Leave No. 10 Express 2:45 a m 7:29 am No. 8 Express— 7:18 am 8:05 am No. 14 Accommodation 8:10 am 9:30 am No. 2 Express.... 9:50 ain 12:25pm ... .No. 0 Express.... 12:.'S0pm .. .No. 16 Passenger... | 2:50 pin 6:40 i) m No. 72 Accom’odation I 12mi(ln't ....No. 4 Express— | 12:15a m 12:10 pin No. 16 Grafton A Way j Arrive J westbound. 1 Leave 12:53 am —No. 7 Express l:00ain 1:20 a m ....No. 9 Express 4:00 ani .... No. 3 Express 4:05 a m No. 71 Accom’odation 7:15 ain 11:15 ain No. 13 Accom’odation 3:sopm —No. 5 Express.... 1:00pm 4:20 pin .. .No. 15 Passenger... 4:25 p m 7:44 pm ....No. 1 Express 8:04 pm No. 113 Grafton A Way | 2:00 pni } All trains daily except No.’s 14, 15, 71 and 72. Trains No 46 and 47 do not carry passengers, j Pittsburg Division. _ WESTBOUND. No. 9—Baltimore Express leaves .7 1 flJu aTn | “ 63—Cumberland “ “ dai ly except Sunday 7:10 ain I “ 11—Mail leaves... .3:25 pmi “ s—Express 1eave5....4:05 ptn KASTBOUND. No. 10 —Baltimore Expressarrives.. 2:50 a m j “ 12—Mail “ .. 1:25 pm “ 64 —Cumberland Exp. “ dai ly except Sunday.. 7:.">0 p m (i—Express leaves.. 12:20 p in I No. 11 isa local train from Cumlierland to Pittsburg and No. 12 from Pittsburg to Cum- I berland. bo's sand 6 makeSstopscacb wav i T. T. AI/I.EN, " ; June 18 Acting Agent. Railroad Tickets. Bit Save Your Money BY BUYING YOUR RAILROAD TICKETS PROM J. H. HITCHENS. Al.I. in c’■lllation concerning rates, routes, change o. cars and time of trains cheer- I fully given. [March 29 | THE LIGHT HOUSE. Oft shall heaven’s sentries sleep Lodged in cloudy donjou-keep; Dark or bright yon starry host. Still the Hpaper of our coast Watches over weltering miles Set with treacherous reefy isles. When the seaman on black nights Has no cheer from heaven’s lights. He unblamed shall heed this ray Constant thrown upon his way. Earthly hands the beacon trim. But it shall not fail to him. What, if sailing from afar Without grace of moon or star, I at length withdraw mine eves From the masked, unmoved skies. Turning from the blank above Towards the star of Human Love,— All the light the night vouchsafes To the wild sea’s driven waifs! —Edith M. Thomas in Lippincott’s Mag. “KITTY’S FORTY.” It doesn’t do men any good to live apart from women and children. I never knew a boy’s school in which there was not a tendency to rowdyism, and lumbermen, sailors, fishermen, and other men that live only with men, are proverbially a half-bear sort of people. Frontiersmen soften down when women and children come—but I forgot my self ; it is the story you want. Burton and Jones lived in a shanty by themselves. Jouos was a married man, and, finding it bard to support bis wife in a “down-east” village, he bad emigrated to Northern Minnesota, leaving his wife under her father’s root until he should be able to “make a start.” Ho and Burton had gono into partnership, aud had “pre-empted” n town site of three hundred and twenty acres. There were perhaps twenty families scattered sparsely over this town site at the timo my story begins and ends, for it ends in the same week in which it begins. The partners bad disagreed, quar relled, aud divided their interests. The land was all shared between them ex cept one valuable forty aero piece. Each of them claimed that piece of iand, and the quarrel had grown so high between them that the neigh bors expected they would “shoot at sight.” In fact, it was understood that Burton was on the forty-acre place determined to shoot Jones if he i came, and Jones had sworn to go out there and shoot Burton, when the fight was postponed by the unexpected arrival of Jones's wife and child. Jone’s shanty was not finished, aud lie was forced to forego the luxury ol fighting his old partner in his exer tions to make wife and baby comfort able for the night. For the winter sun was surrounded by "sun bugs." Instead of one sun there wore four, an occurrence not uncommon in this lati tude, but one which always bodes a terrible storm. In his endeavor to care for wife and child, Jones was mollified a little, and half regretted that he had been sc violent about the piece of land. But he was determined not to bo backed down, and would certainly have tc 3hoot Burton or be shot liimself. When be thought of the chance ol being killed by liis old partner, the prospect was not pleasant. Ho looked wistfully at Kitty, his two-year-old child, and dreaded that she should be left fatherless. Nevertheless, lie wouldn't be backed down. Ho would shoot or bo shot. While the father was busy cutting wood, und the mother was busy other wise, little Kitty mauuged to get the shanty door open. There was no latch as yet, aud liei prying little fingers easily swung it back. A gust of cold air almost took her breath away, but she caught sight of the brown grass without, aud the new world seemed so big that the little feet would fain try and explore it, Bhe pushed out through the door, caught her breath again, and started away down a path bordered by sore grass aud the dead stalks of the wild fiowors. How often she had longed to escape from restraint, and paddle out into the world alone. So out into the world she went) rejoicing in her liberty, in tile blue sky above, and the rusty prai rie beneath. She would find out where the path went, and what was at the end of the world. What did she care if her nose was blue with cold, and her chubby hands red as beets ? Now aud then she paused to turn her head away from a rude blast, a forerunner of the storm, but, Laving gasped a moment | she quickly renewed her bravo march in search of the great unknown. The mother missed her, but sup posed that Jones, who could not get ! euongh of the child’s society, hud taken the little pet out with him. Jones, poor fellow, sure that the darling was safe within, chopped away ! until that awful storm broke upon him, and at last drove him, half smothered by snow and half frozen with cold, into the house. When there was nothing left but retreat, be bad seized au armful of wood and carried it into the house with him, to make sure of having enough to keep his wife and Kitty from freezing in the coming aw fulness of the night, which now settled down upon the storm-beaten and snow blinded world. It was the beginning of that horrible storm in so many people were frozen to death, and Jones had fled none to soon. When once the wood was stackod by the stove, Jones looked arouud for Kitty. He had no more than inquired for her when father and mother each read in the other’s face the fact that she was lost in this wild, dashing snow. So fast did the snow fall, and so I dark was the night, thut Jouos could | not see three feet ahead of him. He j endeavored to follow the path which he j thought Kitty might have taken, but it was buried in snowdrifts, aud lie soon lost liimself. He Btumbled through the drifts, call ing out to Kitty in his distress, but not knowing whither be went. After au i hour of despairing, wandering and shouting, he came upon a house, and. having rapped on the door, ho found himself face to face with his wife. He had returned to his own house in his bewilderment. When we remember that Jones had 1 not slept for two nights preceding this | one, on account of his mortal quarrel j with Burton, and now been beaten ; against an arctic hurricane, and tramp ing through treacherous billows of snow for au hour, wo cau not wonder that he fell over his own threshold in a state of extreme exhaustion. Happy for him that he did not fall bewildered on the prairie, as mauy another poor wayfarer did on that fatal night. As it was, his wife must needs give up the vaiu little searches she had been making iu the neighborhood of the shanty. She had now a sick husband, with frozen hands and feet and face, to care for. Every minute the thermometer fell lower and lower, and all the heat tho little cook stove iu Jones’s shanty could give would hardly keep thorn from freozing. Burton had stayed upon that forty aero lot all day, waiting for a chance to shoot his old partner, Jones. Ho had not heard of the arrival of Jones’s wifo, and ho concluded that his enemy was a coward, and had loft him in possession, or else he meant to play him some treacherous trick on his way home. So Burton resolved to keep a sharp lookout. But he soou found that im- ! possible, for the storm was upon him j iu all its blinding fury. He tried to follow the path, but he could not find it. j Had he been less of a frontiersman lie must have perished there, within a furlong of bis own house. But in en deavoring to keep the direction of tho path he heard a smothered cry, and then saw something rise up covered with snow, and then fail down again. Ho raised his gun to shoot it, whou tho creature uttered another wailing cry, so human, that ho pi>t down his gun aud vent cautiously forward. It was a child 1 He did uot remember that there was such a child among all the settlers at Newton. But he did not stop to ask questions. Ho must, without delay, get himself and child to a place of safe ty, or both would bo frozen. So he took tho little thing in his arms, and started through the drifts. And the child put its little icy fingers on Burton’s rough cheek, and muttered “Papa!” And Burton held her closer, and fought the snow more courageously than ever. He found the shanty at last, and rolled the child iu a buffalo robe while he made a fire. Then, when he got the room a little warm, he took the little thing upon his knoe, dipped her aching fingers In cold water, and asked her what her name was. "Kitty,” she said. “Kitty," he said, “and what elsof" “Kitty,” she answered, nor could he find out any more. "Whose Kitty are you?" "A\ hose Kitty?" she said. For she had known her father but that one day, and now she believed that Burton was he. Burton sat up all night aud stuffed wood iuto his impotent little stove to keep the baby from freezing to death. Never having had anything to do with children, he firmly believed that Kitty, sleeping snugly under blankets and buffalo robes, would freeze if he should let the fire subside iu the least. As the storm prevailed with unabated fury the next day, aud as he dared neither take Kitty out or leave her alone, he stayed by her all day, and stuffed the stove with wood, and laughed at her droll baby talk, aud fed her on biscuit, fried bacon and coffee. On the morning of the second day the storm subsided. It was forty de grees cold, but knowing somebody must be mourning Kitty for dead, he wrapped her in skins, and, with much difficulty, reached the nearest neighbor’s house, suffering only a frost-bite on his nose by the way. “That child," said the woman, to whose house he had gone, "is Jones’s ; I seed 'em take her oaten the wagou day before yesterday." Burton looked at Kitty a moment iu perplexity. Then he rolled her up again and started out, “travelling like mad," the woman said, as she watched him. When he reached Jones's he found Jones and his wife sitting in utter wretchedness by the fire. They were both sick from grief, and unable to move out of the house. Kitty they had givon up as buried under a snow mound. T’hoy would find her when spring should come and melt the suow cover off. When the exhausted Burtou oamo in with his bundle of buffalo skius, they looked at him with amazement. But wlien he opened it, aud let out littlo Kitty, and said, “Here Jones, is this yer kitten?” Mrs. Jones could not think of anything better to do than to scream. And Jones got up and took his old partner’s hand, and said. "Burton, old fellow," and then choked up, aud sat down and cried helplessly. Aud Burton said, “Jones, old fellow, you may have that forty-acre patch. It came mighty near making me the mur derer of that little Kitty’s father." "No, you shall take it yourself," cried Jones, “if I have to go to law to make vou." j And Jonos actually deeded his inter est in the forty acres to Burton. But Burton transferred it all to Kitty. This is why this part of Newton is called "Kitty’s Forty.” ('hasing an Ancestor. "Thomas," said Mrs. Brown-Jones, "I—er—think you ought to have a few family portraits.” "Good idea, my love,” returned her husband. "I’ll stop in to-morrow at l have my photo ” "Mr. Jones, you know I regard the question of family as sacred, and to jest ” "Jest, my dear ? If paying seven dollars a dozen for photographs is jest ing, I do not wonder at the poverty of professional humorists." "1 think that a few ancestral portraits would be delightful.” "But our families are not limited ; your mother was a Smith, and mine re joiced in the name of Robinson. Now the late census shows ” "Thomas, this is actually sacrilegious. Our ancestry is a noble, a proud one ; and thus to laugh at it and provoke tho spirits of those beings " “Pardon me, my dear ; I forgot what legions I invoked. Well, we’ll got some portraits. I think there is one of my great-grandmother at the old house.” "So ? Who painted it ?" "I am not a connoisseur, my love, but, judging by appearances, I should say that my grandfather must have had a hand in it at the age of four. Time has been merciful, however—tho frame is " "Then it is not worth much as a por trait ?" Mrs. Brown-Jonos asked sadly, "Can’t say ; never saw the old lady." "Wasn’t her father Sir Thomas " "Give it up, sweetheart; never dab bled with family skeletons." "Skeletons ! You might think——” "I might, my love, but I rarely do." "You might think there was some hidden mystery." "None apparent, so it must be hidden if there is any. But what good are an cestors ?" "What good ? Why, Thomas Jones, what would we be without ances tors ?" "True, true. I never considered the question in that light. Why, we shouldn’t be.” I "And so I want a few portraits to j prove that our family is a notable one." "A directory would prove that." "Now be serious. Can we get that pioture to hang in the library?" "We can get the picture, but as to hanging it in the library, I say no." "I—l think you are horrid. I I " "Calm yourself. You can have tho portrait, but I would warn you not to speak her name." "Why, Thomas, why ?’’ "Because her name was Bridgot Ma loney, and my great-grandfather eloped with her from Dublin in 1797." "Oh, why did I ever marry you ? You never told me—you never——” (rises sobbing.) "You never asked me. Do you want the picture ?” "Do 1 want it ? No, sir ! The idea ! Tho Batehby-Pokedyes are English back to the Conquest. No, sir; it’s absolutely vile in you.” Exit. "I wonder,” mused Jones, "if I could have palmed off that thing of ‘Midnight on Lake Como’ for the old lady ? Well, it’s all right. I can t afford to have any modern painter go back a hundrod years and pay annual interest.” The Klatto Ilriilge. Tho bridge of the Rialto is a name to conjure with, but, honestly speaking, it is scarcely tho gem of the composition. There are, of course, two ways of tak ing it—from the water or from the up per passage, where its small shops and booths abound in Venetian character; but it mainly counts as a feature of the canal when seen from the gondola or even from the awful raperetto. The curve of its single arch is much to be commended, especially when, coming from the railway station, you see it frame with its sharp compass line the perfect reach of the canal on the other side. But the backs of the little shops make, from the water, a graceless col lective hump, and the inside view is the diverting one. The big arch of the bridge-—like the arches of all the bridges is the boat man’s friend in wet weather. The gon dolas, when it rains, huddle beside the peopled barges, and the young ladies from the hotels, vaguely fidgeting, complain of the communication of in sect life. Here indeed is a little oi everything, and the jewellers of this celebrated precinct—they have their immemorial row—make almost as fine a show as the fruiterers. It is a univer sal market, and a fine place to study Venetian types. The produce of th 6 islands is discharged there, and the fish mongers announce their presence. All one’s senses, indeed, are vigor ously attacked, the whole place is vio lently hot and bright, and odorous and noisy. The churning of tho vaporrtto j mingles with the sounds—not indeed that this offensive note is confined to one part of the canal. But just here the little piers of the resented steamer are particularly near together, and it | seems, somehow, to be always kicking up the water. An Excellent Itecominemlntion “Will this goods wear well?” asked the Chicago maiden, who was selecting a wedding dress. ‘‘Yes, indeed 1” replied the dealer earnestly. “I'll guarantee that you can got married a dozen times in a dress made from that material.”—Judge. 1 I 1 PEARL FISHING. WHERE AND HOW THE PRECIOUS ORNAMENTS ARE OBTAINED. Itciimrkable Success Attended the Efforts of an Adventurous Mariner Who Jumped Overboard In the Night to Escape From a Itrutal Skipper. “Twenty-tlyee years ago,” said Rob ert J. Holloway, who is a pearl fisher at Thursday Island, on tho other side of the Pacific, to a San Francisco Chronicle reporter, “I was an apprentice on board an English ship trading in tho Polynesian archipelago, and used to envy the pearlers and inter-island traders their free and careless life among the beautiful tropical islands. As is often the case, I had a brutal skipper and this helped me to resolve to run away from the vessel and throw in my lot with the pearl fishers. "Gne dark night when we were at Batavia 1 dropped over the side and went ashore. Here I had no difiiculty in getting employment on one of tho small luggers which was to sail at day break. "I spent two years on this little ves sel and saved what I earned, and hav ing by that time what I thought suf ficient experience I started in a small way for myself, pearling and trading in beche de mer with the natives. Some times we had trouble with the savages; but, taken all through, the risks in curred were well compensated for by tho large profits in the trade. "In 1875 I had become the owner of a fine lugger, and I employed eight divers, all Kanakas, who used no div ing apparatus whatever, and can re main under water several minutes at a time. This season I was operating in the Bay of Carpenteria and was ex tremely fortunate in getting pearls, although I lost three of my men by sharks. These men take great risks, seeming to have no fear of the swarms of sharks that infeet the water. The divers have a large stone attaohed by a oord to the boat. With this weight in their hands they dive overboard and •ink rapidly to the bottom. Then grabbing all the shells within reach they fill tho network bag hung around I their necks and come to the surface : with their cargo.” "What percentage of the shells con tains pearls?” asked the reporter. | “Well, there is no rule," explained Mr. Holloway. "Sometimee we.don’t get a decent pearl in a boat load, and again wo may make a rich haul iu a handful of them. The small opaque pearl is common enough, and of really little value. One good big pearl is worth a pail full of them. "After fishiag on the coast of West Australia for a couple of years I tried the New Guinea fisheries. Here I was very successful, and in '79 I settled down at Thursday Island, determined to make that my headquarters while my boats wont in different directions. By this time l had three large pi arl ing vessels and employed about fifty men. At the present time I run eleven boats and pay about a hundred men. Of course, all the vessels are not equally successful, some of them often running me into loss for the year, i "Pearls are very fashionable in Eu rope, and there is a great demand for the best sorts. I do most of my business with Amsterdam, and I have it on authority of my agents there that three of the finest pearls in a neck lace worn by tire Princess of Wales aro from my fisheries. i GIRLS DON’T ALWAYS KNOW. Soin>tlm>s Inject the Most nrilliant ami Itest of Suitors. Rejected lovers may find consolation from the knowledge that some of the eloverost and handsomest men have been refused, and that they have nevertheless managed to live on and win fame and fortune, says the Brandon Hnekshaie. Shakespeare is generally credited with considerable knowledge of humanity and its ways, and he de scribes Romeo, the prince of lovers, as being rejected by the fair Rosalind only just before Juliet fell in love with him. A certain John Scott once proposed to a Miss Allgood. While smarting under her disdain he happened to enter a village church during divine service, and there for the first time he saw the pretty Miss Surtees. Ha wooed her and as the father would have nothing to say to him, he induced her to elopo, and this though three wealthy suit ors wore already at her feet. John Scott lived to be the Earl of Eldon and Lord High Chancellor and never re grettod the day Miss Allgood rejected him. Byron was refused several times. He proposed to Miss Millbanke, a great heiress, and was rejected, though the lady expressed a wish to correspond with him. He then proposed to an other lady, and his suit was rejected, too. Nothing daunted he renewed his proposal to Miss Millbanke, and this time received a very flattering accept ance. They lived together, however, very unhappily. One of the most persistent suitors who ever proposed and was rejected ! was the eccentric Cruden, compiler of , the Concordance to the Bible. Miss Abney, who had inherited a large for tune, was the subject of his attentions. For months and months he pestered her with calls and letters. When she left homo he had papers printed, which he distributed in various places of wor ship, asking the congregation to pray for her safe return, and when she re turned home he issued others asking , the worshippers to return thanks. Mrs. 1 Abney never became Mrs. Cruden. | Follies of Wise Men. Tho characters of many men who are deservedly famous exhibit contradic tions which never cease to puzzle the student of human nature. The wonderful logio of Bacon dissipated the errors of two thousand years of wrong reasoning, and it is not too much to say that he first taught the average man to think correctly. Yet while ho S was shaping the future thought of the world, ho stooped to the most contemp tible sycophancy to flatter the "loarnod fool" whose hand could bestow the sor did favors he sought. Avaricious in tho extreme, he could yet see his sor vants pilfer the odd monoy he left about the house, and only say : "Ay, ay. poor knaves ; it is their portion." Modest ns the grentest scholar of his day, he was also one of the most osten tatious of James’ courtiers. <>u ono occasion, during a royal progress to Nowmarkot, this "meanest of mankind,” as Pope described him, gave a peasant ten pounds for bringing him some fruit. This, by the way, was too much for tho penurious “Jamie," who promptly reproved the extravagance with "My laird, this seems the way till tho Beggar’s Bush." Tho great Kepler, while making as tronomy possible as a science, not only accopted all the absurdities of astrology, but believed that the earth and the planets wore huge live animals moving through space by muscular forco and that men and the brute creation wore parasites upon them. Of a more inno cent and pleasant, but still curious na ture, are the intellectual peculiarities of such men as Descartes, Newton, Doctor Johnson, Sir James Stewart, Goldsmith, Blair and Adam Smith. It is on record that Sir Isaac Newton once asked a friend to dine off the fowl that had been brought for his own dinner, forgot all about it, and then believed that he had himself dined when he af terward found the bones lying on the dish. Doctor Johnson, in most things a thorough materialist, implicitly be lieved in second sight, alwaye began to walk with tho same foot, ami never would step on tho line between two paving stones. Sir James Stewart, the fathor of political economy, made a compact with a very dear friend to tho effect that whichever died first should try to revisit the other at a certain spot aud hour, and, after twenty years of ex ile, wont to lhat spot every day to tho end of his life, expeoting tho engage ment to be Kept. llltllng a Camel. There is something inexpressibly re pelling in tho supercilium triste of a camel as he looks scornfully at you with his nose in the air. But I over came my repugnance and mounted one, alter receiving careful instructions how to retain my seat while the brute is get ting up. It was well enough while he walked ; but when he began to trot at a brisk pace I devoutly wished myself astride on an humbler auimal. But how was T to stop him? There was no bridle, only a rope attached to tho left side of tho brute’s mouth. At that rope 1 tugged, with the effect merely of mak ing my camel trot off to the left. I had boon told that if I wished to make him go to the right that I must hit him on the left side of tho head with a very short stick with which T had been provided for the purpose. But that was moro easily said than done. How was I, from my giddy perch, to reach the creature’s head across that long stretch of neck? I I tried it aud nearly lost my balance , for.my pains—no joke at a height of some ten feet above the pebbly sand. One of the officers, however, saw my plight, stopped, uttered some gurgling sound, aud then the camel, exposing its teeth and protesting viciously, knelt down and I dismounted, silently vow ing that never again would I chose that mode of locomotion. My deliverer, who exohanged his donkey for my camel, laughed heartily at my discomfiture. But I had my revougo speedily, for in the exuber ance of his gayety ho allowed the camel to rise unexpectedly, and was pitched head over heels to the ground. Ho was not hurt, and he joined in tho laugh against himself as heartily ns he had laughed at me. An Erroneous Idea. Allspice is not, as many suppose, a mixture of several kinds of spice. It is tho fruit of a single tree, the pimento, and the name is derived from the fact •that the berry forms a singular com bination of the odors of cinnnmon, nut megs and cloves. The island of Jamuica produces nearly all the all spice that grows. The pimento tree is evergreen and the flowers grow in deuse clusters ; these develop into small, green, aromatic berries, the size of black pepper. If allowed to ripen they become pulpy and lose some of their pucgency. For commercial purposes the berries are gathered when green, carefully dried in the sun and after ward packed in bags and shipped, l’imento trees grow in many parts of tropical America, but nowhere do they thrive as in Jamaica. The trees are never planted by man and receive no cultivation worthy of the name. The seeds are dropped by the birds, and the rains and the tropical sun do the rest. Surplus trees are out down and become walking stioks and umbrella handles. There is one thing about a house which seldom falls, but never hurts the j occupaut when it does. That is the rent. The idea of burning garbage is not a new one; lots of fellows smoke cheap I domestic cigars. j I ROQUEFORT CHEESE. It Wan What Wan \Vanted, but tin* Nffcro Thought Otherwise. A party of gentlemen were about starting on a hnuting trip out in Mary land. They had arranged to go in a large wagon, take their own provisions with them, and rough it among the hills fora week or so in approved style, j says the Washington Post. When I everything was put in place, and a | start about to be made, one of the I party, wdio is considerable of a gour met, suddenly discovered that ho had forgotten to procure some of his favor ite Roquefort cheose. His companions were equally fastidi ous iu thoir taste, and a halt was or i tiered until the article could be pro cured. The man Friday of the expod i i tiou was despatched to a leading grocer | with a note stating what was wanted, and followed the clerk who took it to the cheese counter. His education in | matters of retiued cuisine had been sadly neglected, and when he saw the 1 clerk cutting in half a tinfoil-covered disk, whose interior appeared anything ; but desirable to him, from an edible point of view, he inquired: ••Mistah, what is you ei doin’?" • I’m getting the cheese Mr. M sent you for," was the reply. The negro youth’s eyes expanded. "I—is you g-g-gwine ter sen Marse Will dat ar’ green lookin’ stuff?" he gasped. “Why, certainly,", responded the clerk. “Den you gotter son’ it by some ml der pussou ’sides me. Ef I war to lake Marse Will enuy ole rotten cheese like dat ar’ he’d beat me mos’ nyarly lei death." | And he refused point-blank to take it, in spite of all explanations, i "You des sen’ sumbuddy else. You ; ain’t goin’ to get my baok broke wid j none of yo’ foolishness. Catch un se t takiu’ Marse Will ouny stuff’ like that! No, sail!" Old Flint, Steel and 1.1g1i1.. We fail to realize the boon conferred upon us by the invention of lucifei matches, not perfected until tho present generation. The old strike-a light, still manufactured at Brandon, in Suf folk, required a flint, a steel, and a tin der box. In Bucliau tho stool was called the flourish or fleerish. Many still living have soeu the flint, steel and awn (alum) paper used by the stane knapper at the roadside to get a light for his pipe. For domestic purposes the tinder was kept in its box, which ! was in two parts—a box to hold the tinder and a lid to extinguish it, the latter sometimes arranged to serve as a candlestick. An improvement on the awn paper was tho spunk, or brimstone match, tipped with sulphur, and used to get a flame from tho tinder. This was universal from 1800 to 1850. In the olden days candles were taxed articles, and it was tho duty of Burns, as an excise officer, to see that the tax was not evaded. Ho generally looked the other way, however, as wliou, pass ing through the kitchen one night at William Lorrimer’s, of Kennishall, where the gude wife was busy making caudles, he merely remarked: “Fuith, madam, ye’re thrang the nicht," and passed into the parlor. There were two substitutes for can dies. The one was the ancient oil lamp, the croosie ( crcuset ) a triangular metal saucer with an upright hook at the base to be hung up by. There was an inner saucer, to graduate the use of the oil. At the apex of the angle was the flame, coming from a wick made of the pitch of rushes, which must be cut at full moon, as the flame was supposed to wax and wane with the moon if cut at any other time. The other substi tute for the candle was the bog cau l. It was made by splitting up the resinous logs of the primeval firs that are found imbedded in the bogs. They were left to dry nt the fireside, over the cruck or chain that held up the pot over the fire. The caudlestiok, called the peer-man, was a stone with a hole in its centre, into which was fixed a pillar of wood about four feet high and tipped with a cleft piece of iron, into which the cau dle fitted. The nose of the candle was always turned to the door. A Convenient Brother. It is a serious offence for a German soldier to appear in public except iu uniform. Even when ho is on furlough he must always wear it. A certain Lieut. Schmidt, who was engaged in some adventure or other dressed up as a civilian, was having a fine time of it, when on turning a cor ner he unexpectedly mot his colonel. Lieutenant Schmidt, however, did not lose his presence of mind, but iu a changed voice inquired: "Can you tell me, sir, where Lieuten ant Schmidt lives? lam his brother from the country, and am paying him a visit.” The colonel gave the desired infor mation, and Lieutenant Schmidt hur ried home and got into uniform as soon as possible. He thought he had de ceived his superior officer, but next day when he met the colonel the latter said: "Lieutenant Schmidt, if your brother from the country pays you another visit, I’ll have him placed in close con finement for thirty days." When four-yoar-old Carl saw waffles for the first time, he cried out, “Oh, mamma, look at the cut-glass pan cakes !’’ And nothing could moro ac -1 curately describe the peculiar indenta tions which the waffle irons leave. The largest needle manufactory in the world is in Ridditch, Worcester England. Over 70,000,bQ0 are made j weekly. \