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A DESERT MBRAGE, Across the barren waste they toil; No cooling waters flow, No gentle breeze around them stirSj No light winds come and go; Nought but the hot and arid plain, Stretched round on every side, Burning beneath the glowing sun, And gleaming far and wide. And yet as ever on they press, There dawns upon the eye} A vision bright and dazzling fair. Depicted on the sky; A boundless ocean, calm and blue, With wonder they behold: And gliding o’er, a stately ship, Whose sails seem made of gold. And as they gaze in wonderment, The vision fades and dies, And in its place a threatening cloud Uprises in the skies, And all the evening shadows fall, As on they urge aga'n, Amid the gathering gloom of night, Across the sandy plain. BY CLYDE RAYMOND. •• There ! those pies are burning, I smell them,” exclaimed Rosalie Sparks, jumping up from the table at which she sat with a pile ol blank paper before her, and running into the adjoining kitchen where she threw open the glowing oven, revealing a row ot golden pump kin pies sadly scorched, indeed, and which would, in another moment, have been totally mined. “It’s perfectly inspiring,” she continued, sar castically, having reseated herself at the table, Ind once more resumed her pen, and, also, her vacant, anxious stare at the pile of white paper Whose snowy pages were as yet innocent of any proofs of the fair author's genius,” to be obliged to jump up like this every ten minutes, and make a trip to the kitchen or the grocery Wore. Suppose Byron had been fated to write ender such difficulties—that he had been obliged to bake and brew, to sweep, dust, and do his own washing and ironing—would the world ever have been thrillied by his poetic genius, I’d just like to know? But there I this isn’t getting my own ideas into shape. Let’s see—where was I ,” and, recalling her mind, by a great effort, to her ambitious task, she bent her whole attention upon it, and scribbled away very industriously for a good long hour. “ There I” she exclaimed, drawing a long breath of relief, and glancing over the written lines with evident satisfaction. “ I flatter my self this isn’t so bad, after all. Indeed, I think it quite original, striking. Take these lines, for instance,” and she musingly repeated, aloud: " * Love, oh, love, if we must part, Ne’er forget sweet Cupid’s dart. He'll enfold thee in his grasp When mine arms thy form shall clasp,’ That sounds a good deal like Byron’s ‘ Maid of Athens,’ doesn’t it ?” she mused, in a tone of mingled pride and anxiety. "But I’m sure none of my readers can ever say that I ” “ Ahem!” sounded a deep, strong masculine voice very near at hand. The fair poetess started guiltily and colored io the roots of her auburn hair as she looked ap and beheld Kelsey Vernon, an old school iellow, and, until very recently, her most fa vored admirer, standing just outside the open window (for it was one of those mellow Indian Summer days when the air is soft and balmy as June itself), and watching her with a very amused smile playing around the corners of a handsome mouth, and in the shadows of two roguish, but frank and honest, brown eyes. "Have yon been listening tome? Ido be lieve I was talking out loud,” exclaimed Rosa lie,half-angrily. “ Aren’t you ashamed of your self?” “ I should be if I had played the eavesdrop per,” he answered pleasantly. “ That is why I called your attention to my presence. And, by the way, here is something which the breeze must have fluttered out of the window,” he added, with a twinkle in his dark eyes, hand ing her a sheet of thickly-scribbled paper which she instantly recognized as part of her “ origi nal poem.” Original it was, indeed—highly so; and no litterateur, seeing it, would have wondered long al the sly smile which struggled to suppress it self on Keleey Vernon’s handsome face. Rosalie’s own pretty countenance flushed More hotly than ever, if possible, as she snatch ed it from him. “ You have read that, and now you are mak ing fun of it,” she cried, her blue eyes flashing like sparks of steel. “ But I don’t care, Kelsey Vernon, 1 will be an authoress in spite of you.” “1 have no objection, Rosalie, he smiled, half-merrily, half-gravely. “ But I hope you will forgive me some day if I turn critic for a moment and tell you candidly that you will never be the success in authorship that you al ready are in housekeeping. In that—woman’s highest end truest sphere—you are simply per fection, Rosalie dear ” “Don’t ‘Rosalie dear’ me, if you please, Mr. Vernon,” she retorted, with all the acidity that her sweet red lips could muster. “I won’t spend all my life in commonplace household drudgery when I know that I am fitted for something higher. Mr. Phipps Montgomery says ” “ Oh, Phipps Montgomery be hanged (I was going to say),” interrupted the young man somewhat warmly, for any allusion to his fasci nating rival from Rosalie’s pretty lips was sure to touch a very sensitive spot in his heart. “Phipps Montgomery is a humbug, Rosalie, from the crown of his glossy silk hat to the too of his elegant patent leather boots. Take my word for it, little girl, he is only flattering you in order to win your heart and then break it.” And, as he finished, Kelsey's voice took on a tender, serious tone that showed how dear to his heart was the “ little girl ” whom he was so earnestly cautioning. “ Mr. Montgomery is too perfect a gentleman to laugh at me because I am determined to rise above this common.plaee existence that you call “ woman’s truest sphere.” He has read some of my verses and praised them very highly, and he ought to know all about such things, for he lives in New York city." And the inflection of RosaJU’s voice over those last three words was undoubtedly intended to crush poor Kelsey, who could not boast of such a rare advantage. However, Kelsey Vernon merely smiled in dulgently, which, of course, only irritated the fair poetess still more ; therefore, saying he would call again when she was in a more amia ble mood, he sauntered away, whistling half abstractedly and hardly knowing whether to feel most vexed or amused over Rosalie’s ambi tious freak. •• She’ll get over it in time,” he mentally de cided as he walked along. “ She has no more talent in that line than a kitten, and she’ll be sure to find it out when she comes to seek a publisher for her poetry,” and Kelsey, des pite his anxiety concerning Rosalie’s preference for another, could not help laughing at the rec ollection of the verses which he had caught a glimpse of. “I only wish I could feel as Sure that she would soon get over that other infatuation. Confound him—the oily tongued, genteel puppyl” These last words were, of course, applied to Mr. Phipps Montgomery, and a dark look set tled over the young fellow’s handsome, manly lace as he thought what dire vengeance he would wreak upon the city exquisite should he ever dare to injure a hair of Rosalie’s pretty bead. Meantime, Rosalie, with flushed cheeks and angry heart—angry toward poor Kelsey, who had dared to speak an unflattering truth—con tinued to weave her romantic fancies into rhyme and, at the first opportunity, showed them to Mr. Montgomery, of whose delicate and honeyed appreciation she always felt so sure. Nor was she disappointed. “They are beautiful—beautiful,” he mur mured, with subdued but sympathetic fervor. “Ahl I always told you, Miss Rosalie, that des tiny had marked you for something higher than this," and he threw a half contemptuous glance around the neat and cozy home which mother less Rosalie had kept so bright and attractive for her father since she was a mere child of fourteen. "I am quite intimate with a leading publisher in the city,” resumed Mr. Montgomery, “ who would be glad, I am sure, upon my introducing you, to accept your poems tor a handsome re muneration. If you will do me the honor to run up to the city with me—say some day next week —we can soon arrange the terms—and then, only think 1 you will be really launched upon the ocean of fame.” And a dazzling smile from the eloquent youth so bewildered poor Rosalie that she could scarcely tell whether it was not all a brilliant, delusive dream. She did, indeed, hesitate a little as to the pro priety of such a step. But she had no mother to advise her; and, beside, she reasoned, it was such a short distance—they could easily make the trip, see that wonderful publisher, and be at home again by nightfall, and then—then she would at last be an acknowledged poetess, the social star and wonder of the village. “It is nearly lunch time, upon my word,” remarked Mr. Phipps Montgomery, consulting his elegant watch as they stepped off the train. “It will be impossible to see our publisher first now. So, with your permission 1 will con duct you to my mother’s where you can rest for an hour and have some refreshments. If you are as hungry as I am, I know you can’t refuse. And my dear mother will be most happy.” Rosalie gracefully thanked him and com plied, for she was really tired and hungry. Accordingly, they took a hack, and were soon set down at a rather pretentious mansion where they were quite warmly welcomed by a hand somely dressed lady of middle age. "Sit there and rest, my dear, while I see about getting some lunch for you. I know you must be very tired,” she said in a motherly tone, pushing Rosalie gently down upon a vel vet sofa. Then both she and Mr. Montgomery left the room, and our foolish heroine, left to her own reveries, felt more contempt than ever for her viilage home in the light of her present sur roundings. But suddenly a few words from the adjoining room caught her attention and sen) the color from her cheek ; and, sitting bolt up. right on the sofa, she listened with all her ears- “ How did I get her here ?” It was the voice of Phipps Montgomery, and the insolent, cold blooded sneer in it made Rosalie feel like kill ing him. “Oh, easy enough. The little fool fancies herself a genius of the first water, and, you can bet, I’ve spared no pains to encourage her in that belief. Genius I Ha, ha 1” and here • low, contemptuous icauimd Losahes burning ears. “So I’ve brought her up to see a while waiting, I politely escort her to my mamma’s for lunch. See? But if she gets the least inkling of what this place really is ” But Rosalie waited to hear no more. With sinking heart, trembling limbs and blazing cheeks and eyes, she noiselessly made her way to the street door and, to her great joy, found that she could open it and reach the street. Once there, she sped like an arrow from the bow until blocks intervened between her and that terrible house ; then, calming herself, She sought a policeman and was soon directed to the depot, from which she started on the very first train for that village home which she felt that she would nevermore wish to leave. That very night Rosalie made a bonfire of her precious poems; and to-day, as Mrs. Kelsey Vernon, she has a great deal more to say on the subject of home being “ woman’s highest and truest sphere ” than her now happy husband ever did. BY ANGELO J. LEWIS. I have always had a secret yearning to be a Freemason, but until lately had never seen my way to indulge my inclination. To tell the truth, I I was brought up by a maiden aunt, who had > such an intense objection to Freemasonry and t all its works that, during her lifetime, I scarcely i ventured even to think about the matter. She i had heard some dreadful story about a lady who hid herself in a clock-case in order to find out the Masons’ secret, but was found out herself ■ instead, in consequence of the clock unexpect edly striking thirteen, or something of that sort. She never would tell me—and, indeed, I don’t think she knew exactly—how the story ended, ■ but she gave me to understand that the denoue- ■ ment was to horrible too mention. Then, again, she had another legend about a i man who was made a Freemason, and who was so afraid of letting out the secret in his sleep that he did not dare to go to sleep at all, and died a raving maniac in consequence. Being myself rather a good sleeper, and not given ( that I am aware of) to talking in my sleep, I don’t think this last case would have deterred me much; but my aunt seemed to think it a serious danger. “ Promise me, Benjamin,” she said on one oc casion, “ that while I live ” —I think she quite expected to live the longest—“ you will never be a Freemason.” I promised, and I abstained accordingly, not only during her lifetime, but for some years af terward. About two years ago, however, I chanced to meet an old schoolfellow, Teddy Rogers, and hearing from him that he was on his way to his “ lodge,” which he spoke of as the jolliest in the craft, I took occasion to sound him, in a quiet sort of away, as to the stories I have men tioned. He assured me that the lady in the clock-case—who it appears was really founded on fact—was merely made a Mason in due form, and lived happy ever afterward. The other story he laughed to scorn altogether. My mind being thus relieved, and finding that several men I knew were also members of Teddy’s lodge, I took a bold resolve, and asked him to propose me as a member also. In due course I was elected, and subsequent ly “ initiated,” “ passed ” and “ raised ”in the customary three degrees. I must own I was very nervous over the various ceremonies, and was profoundly thankful when they were all over, and I found myself entitled to wear the blue-edged apron with the three rosettes, and to write myself a Master Mason. About a week after I had reached this desired consummation I chanced to pass a jeweler’s shop and see in the window a neat little trinket, the masonic “ square and compass,” wrought in gold, and designed for hanging to one’s watch chain. I felt that I should rather like to pos sess some outward symbol of my new dignity, so entered the shop, and finding that the price was not extravagant, agreed to purchase the article. When I had done so, the jeweler called my attention to a curious gold ornament of about the same size, which he had just bought second-hand, and could let me have a great bargain. It represented a skull with a brace of daggers stuck crossways into it, and had be longed, so the man told me, to some foreigner who had died in a loding-house in the neighbor hood. Being his only asset of any value, his landlord had sold it to pay his funeral expenses. The price asked seemed reasonable, and ulti mately I agreed to purchase this also, and the two were forthwith attached to my watch-chain. I had worn them for some weeks, and, the novelty wearing off, was beginning to forget all about them, when I chanced to have occasion to run over to Antwerp on business. We had rather a rough passage from Harwich, but the Scheldt was reached at last, and lor the last four or five hours of our journey we were in smooth water. During this time I got into conversation with another passenger, a tall, gentlemanly man. He was unmistakably a foreigner, but of what nation I could not undertake to decide. He spoke English pretty fluently, though every now and then he found himselt obliged to fall back on a French expression to convey his meaning. He was extremely polite, and gave me much information as to points of interest on either bank of the river. I felt rather flattered by his attentions, and when he handed me his card, which bore the title: M. lb Colonel Sanstbbbb, Algerie. I could do no less than offer him mine in re turn, feeling half ashamed of the plain “Benja min Dodd” inscribed upon it. My new ac quaintance, however, read it with much ap parent interest. “Ah! Ben-ja-meen Dodd!” he said, "Ben ja-meen Dodd! I will greet you well, brother Ben-ja-meen Dodd. If you will stay at mv house so long as you remain in Anvers, I shall esteem me honored.” “Pardon, me,” I said, “you are extremely kind; but I could not think of accepting such hospitality from a stranger.” “Strangers, no. We are brothers 1” said ho, looking at me with a meaning glance, and gently touching with his forefinger the square and compasses which dangled from my watch-chain. “ I hold myself dishonored if you do not come to me.” I had heard wonderful tales of the aid and hospitality extended to brethren in distress by Freemasons in foreign parts, but had hitherto regarded them as somewhat on a par with the story of the lady in the clock-case and of the sleepless Mason. Now, however, I began to feel that there was really something in them. It is true I was not in any particular distress, but so much the more uncalled for, and consequently meritorious, was my unknown friend’s offer of hospitality. Finding that he continued to press it, I consented, and a little later, our luggage having in the meantime been examined on board by the customs officers, we reached the quay, and were permitted to land. I was about to hail a cab, but my new friend said: " There is no need. It is tout pres— close by. Hola! Antoine.” At his call a swarthy, black-haired man, with a short curly beard and wearing gold rings in his ears,who was lounging about with his hands in his pockets, suddenly woke into activity, shouldered nfy portmanteau as easily as if it had been a baby, and without asking any in structions, started off with it along the quay to ward the ancient prison called the Steen. We turned off to the right just before reach ing the prison, and passing through an ancient gateway, found ourselves in one of those pic turesque bpt uncanny-looking streets, now scarcely to be found save in the older Belgian towns; a street with overhanging gables nod ding at each other from opposite sides of the way, small many-latticed windows, and trottoir even rougher than the carriage road. Here we came to a halt Antoine deposited my portmanteau on the pavement, and I put my hand in my pocket to pay him for his services, but was stopped by my conductor. “ Pardon,” he said, “it is not necessary; An toine also is of ours.” I hastily apologized, meanwhile reflecting with wonderment how complete and thorough must be the general devotion to Freemasonry among the braves Beiges. Scarcely had I set foot upon this hospitable shore, and already one brother had invited me to his house and anoth er carried my portmanteau for me. The house itself did not promise very princely entertain ment, for its exterior was sadly in want of re pair. The colonel saw and answered my rapid glance. “It is not gentil," he said. “But what will you ? It suits t<s. You will find it better with in.” So saying, he opened the door with a pass key, and we entered. The appearance of the ground floor rooms was not much better than that of the exterior, but we passed these and ascended by a fine old oaken staircase to the upper part of the house. On the first floor was a handsomely furnished dining-room, and above this two very comfort able bed-chambers, one of which I was invited to consider my own. “ When you are ready,” said my host, “ come down to the room below, and we will dine.” ' After a hasty toilet, I descended, and found the table laid for two persons. My host waved me to a seat, and our dinner began, Antoine waiting upon us. The dishes were not numer ous, but the cuisane was first-rate, and the wines admirable of their kinds. I was becom ing more and more enamored ot Freemasonry, and only regretted that I had not sooner quali fied myself to enjoy its privileges. After some little general conversation my host began to ask me questions as to the position of the Brotherhood in England; whether it was gain ing ground, how many members it numbered in London, what was the condition of its funds, and so on. I answered his questions to the best of my ability, for being but a young Mason • I knew but little of these particulars; but I did ■ not like to show my ignorance. Some of my • answers seemed to astonish him a little, par ticularly as to the numerical strength of the Masonic body. Where, from absolute ignor ance, I really coaid not answer his questions, . he put my silence down to excess ot caution, • and applauded me for it; though he at the same • time assured me it was not necessary. i “However,” he said, “you will soon have an ; opportunity of speaking more freely, for the , Antwerp Comile ” (which I presumed to be the ■ equivalent for the English ‘‘ Lodge ”) “ meets > to-night, and will welcome you with honor.” I should have preferred to be excused, being only too conscious of my Masonic insignifi l canoe, but I did not see how I could very well , decline; and the gorgeous wine I had imbibed > had considerably toned down my native diffi i dence. I therefore said it would give me great i pleashig to meet thg Antwerp brethren Alter NEW YORK DISPATCH, NOVEMBER 23, 1884, a little more conversation a succession of raps, in a regular rhythm,were heard proceeding ap parently from a particular spot in the wainscot. Seeing my glance of surprise, the colonel said: “ It is only the signal from the sodterrain be low, to make me know that the brethren are as sembled. Being president, Ido not go down till all have arrived, but we must not keep them waiting. You had better make your toilet, and we will go down.” He took out of an oaken wardrobe two coarse dark gray gowns with hoods attached, similar to those worn by the brethren of the Dominican Order. “ What are these for ?’’ I asked, in surprise. “ Do you not use them in England ?” he said. “It is, however, quite simple. We have breth ren of many degrees, and in such work as we have on hand it is not well that those of low de gree should know who are the leaders. Your rank entitles you to wear the hood.” I doubted very much whether my rank enti tled ms to do anything of the kind, but I re flected that the ways of Continental Freemasons were no doubt different from our own, and on my host’s assurance put on my disguise accord ingly. I must confess that I was beginning to get a little nervous. I remembered that Free masonry on the Continent was said to be occa sionally abused for political ends, and the use of such a precaution was not re-assuring. My entertainer put on his cowl likewise, and then, going to a book-case in the wall, made a move ment as if to pull out one of the books. To my surprise the whole concern swung back, and showed a dark opening, which I found, on go ing closer, to be the entrance to a spiral stair case. “Let me give you light,” said my host. Lighting a taper, he proceeded down the steps, first carefully closing the mysterious door. The staircase appeared to terminate against a solid stone wall, but again my con ductor pressed something or other, and the wall gave way. At first I could hardly distinguish surrounding objects, but when my eyes became accustomed to the security I found myself in a gloomy vault, about eighteen feet wide and twenty-four long, lighted by two dim lamps suspended from the roof. Three sides of the vault were surrounded by rough-hewn stone seats. The seat at the upper end was higher than the rest, being raised on a sort of dais. On this three figures, hooded like ourselves, were already seated, and my con ductor, taking my hand, led me to the same quarter, himselt taking the central seat, and placing me on his right hand. The seats on either side of the vault were occupied by some ten or twelve men wearing no disguise. Among them I recognized An toine. I observed to my surprise that the customary “ furniture ” of an English Masonic lodge—the pedestals, the candlesticks, the gavels—were altogether wanting; but on a sort of rude altar in the centre of the vault was a human skull pierced through by two crossed daggers, the exact counterpart, save in size, of the symbol that hung at my watch-chain. Now for the first time a sudden fear struck me. Had the hospitable colonel been attracted, not by the square and compasses, but by the grimmer token which I had rashly hung beside them ? and was I taking part, not in a lodge of harmless law-abiding Freemasons, but.in the meeting of some proscribed brotherhood, con spiring for unlawful ends ? I did not long remain in doubt, for my host, acting as president, after the members had an swered to a sort of roll-call, called upon the delegate from Switzerland to make his report. Accordingly, a black-browed, truculent-look ing individual in one of the side rows got up, and proceeded to make a statement. I could not follow the whole of it, but I gathered that he was reporting the number ot the fraternity in certain districts of Switzerland, the quantity of weapons and the amount of nitro-glycerine in store, with other interesting particulars. My blood ran cold. Should I ever escape from this den of assassins alive ? Was it likely that men who took such elaborate precautions to conceal their identity even from each ether, would allow me, an absolute stranger, to carry the knowledge of these deadly secrets into the outer world ? What should Ido ? Should lat once declare that there had been a mistake, and entreat them to liberate me before I had heard any more of their guilty secrets ? Alas lit was too late. I had heard too much already for their safety. The familiar saying, “ Dead men tell no tales,” kept ringing in my ears like a funeral knell. There was just one chance for me—to remain perfectly quiescent till the assembly broke up, and then, if I could once escape the vigilance of the hospitable colonel, to place as many miles between myself and Antwerp as possible’. Even then, I reflected, I should not be safe. I had unhappily given him my card; and unless I forthwith changed my name, and hid myself in some obscure corner of the earth, the emis saries of this dreadful society would doubtless hunt me down and secure my silence by taking my life. While these thoughts passed through my mind, the Swiss representative had finished his cheerful statement, and the president next called upon the delegate from Russia to report the condition in that country. The Russian delegate, who proved to be the hooded figure on my right hand, then told his story, detailing to the most minute particulars an elaborately arranged plot for assassinating the Czar by electricity the first time he should sleep in a particular palace, which he was expected shortly to occupy. My hair stood on end at this cold blooded recital, but the majority of those pres ent received it with lively expressions of satis faction, evidently regarding it as a really neat thing in the way of assassination. Next came the report of a German delegate. His account being delivered in his native tongue, I am un able to state what special atrocities he had to communicate, but they were apparently re garded as highly satisfactory by those to whom his statement was intelligible. AU had gone quietly enough so far, and I was beginning to hope that the assembly might after all break up without discovering that there was an intruder among them, when the president rose and said, in French: “ I will now call upon the brother represent ing the English branch to make his report.” I looked round with curiosity, wondering which of the assembled ruffians would prove to be the English representative, and whether, if the worst came to the worst, he would have the humanity to intercede for an unfortunate fel low-countryman. estrange to say, no one rose. After a moment’s pause, the presdent turned and looked toward me. Suddenly the horrible truth flashed upon me. I was the English rep resentative 1 I, who had been admitted into Freemasonry on the express understanding that I was “of mature age, sound judgment, and strict morals ’’ —I was invited to hold forth in a den of thieves as to my personal arrangements for assassinating unoffending potentates. My strict morals were at a discount in this assem bly, though, on fhe other hand, sound judg ment, if I had possessed any, would doubtless have kept me out of it. However, all eyes were new turned toward me, and, with the full con sciousness that my life was not worth a min ute’s purchase, I threw back my hood, and stammered out in English, as boldly as I could: “ Gentlemen, Mr. President, I’m really very sorry, but there has been a little mistake. I came here thinking you were Freemasons like myself, and—and —I really don’t understand what you’ve been talking about, but I think, if you’ll excuse me, I had better leave.” Only a small portion of those present under stood English, but by a common instinct one and all seemed to guess what was wrong, and savage cries, “ A spy ! a bas le mvunchard! Tuez-le arose from all parts of the room. “What is this?” said the colonel, sternly. “ You have deceived me. You are not of our brotherhood ?’’ “I never said I was,” I said. “Then why carry you our token?” indicating the death’s head and daggers in the centre of the vault. “ I bought it,” I replied. “ Aye, truly, you will buy it with your life,” was the grim reply. Then, raising his voice, he said in French: “Brethren, whatis the doom of a spy?” “ Death ! La Mort! Per Tod echoed- from all parts of the vault. “ Provosts, do your duty.” Two of the most savage’-looking of the ruffi ans stepped from the ranks and seized mo one by each arm, each holding a dagger, and appar ently only waiting the president’s final signal to sheathe it in my body. I gave up myself for lost. I began a passionate appeal for mercy, reminding the president that he had sought me and not I him; and that ho himself had brought me, unsolicited, into the conspirators’ meeting —but in vain. “It is useless,” he said sternly. “You have worn our token, and you have gained the knowledge of our secrets. For our own safety you must die.” But help came from an unexpected quarter. “Nay, he will not die,” said the Russian delegate, who had propounded the ingenious scheme for assassinating the Czar by elec tricity. “ And why not ?” said thejpresident, turning angrily on the spokesman. “ Because the game is up,” said the Russian representative, at the same time throwing back his hood and pulling off a pair ot colored spec tacles and a bushy black beard and wig. Without his disguise, ho was seen to be clean shaved and nearly bald, with a keen, critical eye and a somewhat mocking expression about the mouth. He was obviously well known to most of those present. Exclamations ot “Monsieur Duprez !” “La rousse! I" (the police) were heard on every side. ‘‘A bas les mains, colonel,” he said, in a warning voice, as the colonel’s hand was seen to go to his breast, probably in search of a pistol. “ Hands down—the game is played, I tell you. You have been sold by your most trusted asso ciates, and the place is surrounded by my men.” He blew a whistle, and the door by which we had entered the vault, and another at the oppo site side, opened simultaneously, and showed the passages filled with gensd’armes, who filed guietly in, and very quickly had all the con spirators handcuffed. When the last had been removed, M. Duprez turned to me and said: “ You have had a narrow escape, sir, and you may still be put to some inconvenience in the matter. Have the goodness to tell me, in the first place, when and where you obtained this abominable token, which I must trouble you to hand to me.” I willingly handed him the piratical-looking symbol, and told him exactly how I became possessed of it. “ Yes,” he said, when I had finished, “ that tallies with the information in our possession, The former owner of this elegant trinket is dead, happily for the peace of Europe, for a more unscrupulous and murderous scoundrel never existed. The gallant colonel—who is as much a colonel as yourself, by the way—did not know of his death, nor did hie know him by sight, and consequently, seeing you wear his token—which, by the way, is never done open ly, save as a sort of rally for the initiated—took yon for him.” “But 1 gave him my card,” I said—“ a card with my name, Benjamin Dodd.” “Which he probably thought was as much your name as Colonel Sansterre is his own. Now I don’t think I need detain you further, but if you will take my advice, you will get out of Antwerp as quickly as you possibly can. And if you will allow me to give you a further piece of advice don’t be quite so ready in fu ture to accept hospitality from strangers, and never again wear a political emblem without knowing what association it belongs to.” And I never will. TALKS AV ITH THE BOYS. BY M. QUAD. “lam a boy, sixteen years old. Have a lair education ; have no desire to learn a trade, but have a great desire to secure a thorough educa tion. My parents are poor and unable to give advantages beyond the common schools. What can you prescribe for my case ?” The above letter comes from Wisconsin. It fails to give many points which ought to have been covered, but presents sufficient to prove that the lad has an ambition which should be encouraged. First, answering him personally, what do you wish to make of yourself? You have no desire to learn a trade, but you do not say that you wish to enter upon a profession. You must take one or the other or else be content as a Jack-of all-trados and master of none. In referring, however, that your desire for a thorough education is born oi’ the intention to pursue a profession, you are just now at the point to put in your time to the best advantage or throw.it away. With a fair common school education to back you, you must now study with an object in view. If you wish to become a doctor you will cer tainly have to attend college and pursue spe cial studies. It you wish to take up the law and can secure a place in the office of a lawyer at home for a year or two, to acquaint yourself with the forms of law—draw up papers, study various standard legal works, and get such in sights as you may—you can shorten your col lege course very materially. Indeed, if you can learn enough law in a lawyer’s office, you may be admitted to the bar without going to college at all. You can become a book-keeper, clerk or cashier without special study, except for the former. If your parents are poor, the chances are against you as compared to a lad whose lather can afford him a collegiate education. Any move you may make toward a profession will cost money. But, if you have the true grit and are thoroughly in earnest, pluck may stand you in place of money. Dozens ot the leading men of to-day paid their way through college by manual labor. There are plenty of people of this generation who stand ready to give a plucky boy a lilt up the ladder, and all will at least encourage him. If you have a fair common school education —well up in arithmetic, grammar, orthography, chirography and history—and are only sixteen years old, you have many chances for success. If you have selected a profession which requires a collegiate course and its attendant expenses, and must rely on yourself entirely, quit school, and go to work at something which will bring you in money. Even though your wages are small you can save enough in two years to pay your way through college. During the interval do not throw your evenings away. If you only will you can advance yourself in every common school study. You do not write as good a hand as most boys of your age. Half an nour’s prac tice every evening for three months will make you a good penman. If your father cannot af ford to give you money he can surely afford to give you some of his evenings to hear your les sons. Orthography and grammar should be mastered as thoroughly as possible. Don’t throw away an hour’s time on algebra unless you are studying to become a teacher or a civil engineer. Without being obligated by the same reason do not weary your brain over intricate mathematics. There isn’t a lawyer, doctor, editor or clergyman in the country who has any use for mathematics beyond the four simple ta bles once in ten years. Retail merchants and bankers have their printed tables showing rates of interest and the quotient of all figures in frac tions likely to ever be called for, and the head ofa wholesale house never meets with anything harder than finding how much 15,430 yards of sheeting would come to at six and a quarter cents per yard. Do not sigh for “ thorough education,” unless you have a target beyond it. There are plenty of thoroughly educated men who are a heavy burden on their friends. Without having de’- termined on a profession they rushed off to col lege, graduated with the highest honors and walked out into the world again to find them selves worse off than before. Book-keepers are paid for being accurate, honest and reliable. The merchant never asks to see any specimens of their Greek translations or essays on physi ology. Cashiers may have spent twenty years at college without receiving a dollar more salary than a man who got his schooling in a village. If the doctor is thoroughly educated in medi cine, and the lawyer in law, and the clergyman in theology, we demand no more. I have heard it said of a man that he was a scholar, and I have seen that same man glad of an opportunity to take the position of a traveler for a wholesale house. He had been educated without any aim beyond it. “ Now, my boy, as it was you who broached this mattter, let me ask you to sit down and seriously reflect. I prove’d to you a few weeks ago that all the professions were not only over crowded, but that none of them had the money and the ease which were commonly attributed. How do you know you don’t want to learn a trade ? Did you ever give it ten minutes’ seri ous thought ? You can begin now and have any trade known in this country finished by the day you reach manhood. Ask yourself if it isn’t possible that you might make a poor lawyer or doctor or teacher, when you might make a suc cess as a jeweler, carver, joiner or tinsmith? Think well before you take the step. It is a serious hour in a boy’s life when he comes to a decision on this matter. It is not for a day, but for a lifetime. The world is a great bee hive. Once in a while you see a drone, but the vast majority are workers. Every one has an object and an aim. Day after day, month after month, year after year the labor goes on. There is no rest for the bees until worn out. Think seri ously and well, my boy, for a mistake now may render a lifetime comparatively worthless. RIGHT*ON TIME. THE MAN WHO HAS NOT SHAVED SINCE 1860, TURNS UP. (From the Philadelphia Times.) A tall, broad-shouldered man, of apparently fifty-five years, walked into Binder’s Seventh street barber shop on Saturday afternoon and seated himself in a chair. A heavy black beard covered his face and his shirt front and was finally lost to sight within the capacious recesses of his waistcoat. “ Hair cut, sir?” said the barber, as he began to tuck a towel around the collar of his custom er, preliminary to picking up his shears. The old man, who had been busy with his beard during this interval, now exposed it to the astonished gaze of the shop. It reached fully three inches below his knees when it was uncoiled. He replied : “ No, but”- here he glanced around the shop with a triumphant smile—“ I want this beard taken off clean.” Apparently seeing that some explanation would b’e welcome to the astonished gathering of barbers and customers, the old man said in tones that showed the emotion stirring within him: “ For twenty-four years no razor has touched my face. This beard is the result. It was in 1860. I was as spruce a young chap as ever kicked up his heels at a Lancaster county wed ding and everybody knew young Joe Barstow in those parts. They called me ‘ Young Joo ’to make a difference between the old man and me. The old man was a Bourbon Democrat to the backbone and I was with him till the split in the 1860 Convention, when the Southerners put up John C. Breckenridge, and we—the North— nominated Stephen A. Douglas. The old man went in on Breckenridge. I felt strong on the subject and worlfed for Douglas day and night. I used to be very smart in my appearance in those days, but I worked so hard I had no time for prinking up. “ One night I made a speech at a meeting in the old Turnpike Tavern. I had a week’s growth of stubble on my face, and before I had ’ spoken a dozen words some lout sang out, ‘ Go get a shave.’ Everybody laughed as they looked at me. • Get a shave ?’ says I; •no razor touches my face until I see a Democratic Presi dent in the White House.’ ” “ I have kept my word. Take it off and roll it carefully up in a piece of paper, barber, for I am going to send President Cleveland a chain mads out of it.” Capt. Townsend’s Fatal Vote. HE RODE DAY AND NIGHT TO VOTE A GROCERY BILL. (From the Gunnison, Col., Review Press.) Monday evening Capt. Townsend reached Gunnison on a sharp-backed hard-riding ani mal, on his way from near Pitkin to Irwin, to vote for Cleveland, Adams, Bullock and re form (?). Mr. Townsend is a Democrat from way back. He believes he should vote, if' to do so he has to dq penance for six weeks before and aft. He stopped at Mr. Monsey’s residence, in this city, on that fatal Monday evening, and bade the folks good-by, and said it was the courage of his conviction that induced him to make so long and difficult a trip to the polls. He reached Irwin near the (morning! of No vember 4. He was almost tired to death, and so sore he could scarcely reach the house after putting his horse into the stable. He slept late that morning. When he awoke and refreshed himself by an excellent breakfast, prepared by his good wife, he pulled from his pocket a good bunch of Democratic tickets he had brought up from Gunnison to show his better half how nice they looked. She encouraged him and promised to have a nice dinner lor him, go she made out a list of some fancy groceries which she requested him to purchase when he went down town. He folded the bit of white paper and put it into his vest pocket and started down town. It was late and the voting had been proceeding several hours. He marched up to polls with ail his pockets filled with the tickets he had brought all the way from Gunnison. Placing himself in line he waited hie turn. “ Samuel L. Townsend,” he called, as he handed in a neatly folded white paper. “No. 102,” responded the clerk and the judge of elec tion wrote the number on the ticket. “ I am well paid for my long and wearisome ride,” remarked the captain as he deposited the ballot. That night when the judges were counting the votes they came across a ticket which seemed to be on different paper from the rest. Opening it they found it contained as Presidential Elec tors the familiar names, “ Aispice, Pepper and Molasses.” Lower down on the ticket were the names of such well-known individuals as “ Sugar, Japan Tea, Rice, Baking Powder, and two cans of tomatoes.” Looking at the number on the ticket it was seen to be “ 102.” On the poll books opposite that number was the name Samuel L. Town send. This told the whole story. Mr. Town send will never forget that feast and how he searched for that list of groceries. STRONGMEN? Some Remarkable Eeats of Personal Prowess by Celebrated Characters. (From the San Francisco Examiner.) The present Emperor of Russia is said to be one of the strongest men in his empire of herculean individuals. While the heir appar ent, he one day visited his father, the late Em peror, to complain that his mail was tampered with. The Emperor sent for the Chief of Police, drew from him a confession of guilt, and chided him in the presence of the Czarowitz. The lat ter said not a word, but handed the crestfallen functionary a sign of how great was his anger in the form of a silver rouble twisted into a roll. In his younger days this was a favorite visiting card of the Czarowitz. He could strike a poker against his arm and bend it, bite pieces out of china cups, feats which were in the repertoire of Thomas Tapham, the celebrity of Islington, London. Tapham was a drayman, and sometimes, when exhilarated by the vast potions of liquor sup plied him by admirers, he would take his horse’s place between the shafts. He had a playful habit of twisting heavy kitchen pokers into a coil about the necks of trembling countrymen. One night, after having astonished a tavernful with his drinking powers, he came upon a watch man peacefully slumbering in his box, and threw box and man over the wall of a burial ground. In 1871 M. Gregorie, claiming to be seventy one years old, astpnished the physicians and the public of a town near London by carrying 700 pounds with ease, lilting an ox and perform ing other wonderful feats. A celebrated Lon don physician who examined Gregorie describes him as an exaggerated study by Hayden. His shoulders were prodigious, and his biceps al most incredible. Gregorio’s strength, rather than a source of pride to him, was the cause of anxiety. Although the mildest of men, he lived in dread that he should be provoked to use his strength against a fellow being. Ho was afraid to nurse his own child lest he should give it a fatal squeeze. Nearly ail individuals of uncommon strength make up in bulk what they are deficient in bight. Stanley, the African explorer, describes a strong man who was six feet five inches, and rather disproportionately slender. He could toss an ordinary man ten feet in the air and catch him in his descent. He would take one of the large white Muscat donkeys by the ears, and, with a sudden movement of his right foot, lay the surprised ass on his back. He could carry a three-year-old bullock half way around his master’s plantation. Once he actually bore twelve men on his back, shoulders and chest a distance of 300 feet. Middle-aged people who remember the dawn of interest in muscular exercises recall Dr. Win ship, the originator of the idea which was sub sequently embodied lifting-machines. The as tonishment'that the doctor’s performances cre ated was equal to that of the Berliners a few years ago at Jorgnery’s feats. The most won derful of these was known as the trapeze feat. The Frenchman hung suspended by his legs from a swinging bar, and by sheer muscular strength lilted a heavy horse and its rider off the stage, suspending them several minutes and then letting them down gradually and evenly as he raised them. Mervine Thompson’s achievement at Roches ter, N. Y., last year was, however, in the opinion of competent judges, more surprising than this. Thompson laid Iris face downward on a firmly fixed ladder and resisted the efforts of a team ot powerful horses to pull him from that position. A newspaper writer, in reviewing this wonderful performance, remarks that the little mention with which it escaped could happen only in a nation where strong men were common. The same feat in 1675 gave William Joy the name of the English Samson. The medical faculty ot Vienna thought the strength of Joseph Pospischilii worthy of dis cussion at several special meetings. This man held a table suspended by his teeth while three gypsies danced upon it. He and one of his brothers bore upon their shoulders a sort of wooden bridge while a horse drawing a cart full of stones was driven over it. Pospiscbilli’s strength was thought to reside in his neck, and his bones were said to be twice as large as the usual size. Fishing parties and explorers in the wilds of northern Wisconsin were a few years ago famil iar with Peter Panquette, the Samson of the re gion. He was a famous woodman, possessed of mighty endurance and muscles that were like iron. Senator Clark says: “I have had him bare his arm to me and crack hickory nuts upon the muscles. It was like cracking them on a stone. He could take a handful of dried hard hickory nuts and crush them to pieces by merely tightening his fist.” On one occasion, while serving as guide for a party of explorers, a yoke of oxen drawing the boat down the Fox gave out through fatigue. Panquette took their place, and hauled the boat along, heeding the strain less than the beasts. Sheppard, the wonder of the Coventry Volun teers, whose muscular development answers to the description given of Panquette, like the lat ter, wore his hair long. With the half-breed it was a custom derived from his copper-colored ancestors, but with the ruddy Englishman it was in obedience to his belief that all his strength lay in his flowing yellow looks. Shep pard could lift a heavy man in each hand, and hold them at arms’ length. He could toss enor mous tables, barrels and bags of flour about as though they were filled with feathers. He could take a pewter pint pot and tear it into pieces with his teeth, and he could munch large oyster shells as a person would munch a biscuit. Sheppard was the wonder of the country around, but his prosperous popularity devel oped enemies, and one of these, it is related, induced the strong man to drink deeply, and while sunk in stupor cut off his luxuriant hair. Sheppard awoke, felt his bare poll, and in tones of horror announced his strength was gone. Whether because such was the case, or because he wished to excite superstitious credulity, the strong man from that moment was weak, timid and hesitating until his hair was long again. chinamaFanTchild. THE TRUE HUMANITY OF THE WORLD. (From the Philadelphia News.) Tot is dead. There was crape on the door yesterday above the step where the wee prattler used to play, and yonder on the corner, where Wah Kee lives, a simple rosette, with streamers of black, tacked on the creaking sign. In Alaska street, on the corner of a narrow alley below Sixth, there is a dingy laundry, with the name of “ Wah Keo ” painted in flaming let ters on the crazy sign above the door. This is where Wah Kee lives, and works, and spends his lonely life. Wah Kee’s home is old and grim, and the rain plays hide and .seek under the battered roof, but the house across the allev is just as old, and the roof is just as crazy, and the folks that live there are just as poor and lonely as poor Wah. That’s where Tot lived. Everybody knew Tot. Tot’s clothes were old, and Tot’s face was wan, but somehow the soul of the little one crept into the heart of the lonely Chinaman, and Wah Kee’s eyes beamed as they had never beamed before. So he would stand by the door and look across the alley at Tot and smile -and Tot would patter across the little ocean of dirt and water, and clasping her chubby hands around Wah Kee’s legs, look up into his face and coo. Tot’s folk’s chided the little one—for they hated the sight ot the “ haythen,” as they called Tot’s friend. But Tot stamped her feet, and called Wah her “ Chi’man,” and pattered across the alley the same as before. One day Tot stayed away, and Wah Kee looked in vain for the baby. Another day passed, and then Wah Kee’s face grew sad and his heart heavy, and he shambled across the narrow alley and begged Tot’s folks to tell him where Tot was. They told him she was sick; that it would be many days before Tot would be about; that weeks would go by before the little one might sit on the stoop in the sunshine again. So Wah went back to his dingy shop and rolled up his sleeves and went to work again, but his head was heavy and his heart was across the alley in the little house where Tot lay ill. After a while little Tot seemed to get better, and one day Wah Kee looked over the way to the little house and his heart gave a great leap, for there, pressed against the window, was the face of wee Tot—white and wan, but smiling. And Wah Kee dropped his iron and ran across the pavement and stood by the window. Tot’s voice was weak, and Tot might not have the window up, for it was oold and damp, but Wah Kee stood outside and talked in panto mime, and Tot, punching her fists against the murky pane, laughed with glee. So every day Tot was propped up in the win dow, and Wah Kee stood in the shop and look ed at the little face and sighed. Sometimes when Wah Kee’s countrymen came to see him they laughed, and Hop Long and Lee Yeo and Wong Sing Lung chided him for the strange love he bore the baby, but Wah Kee on ly shook his head and answered: “ Wah Kee has nlo one else. Tot is Wah Kee’s baby.” But Tot died, and yesteaday they buried her. There were only two caraiages—there was one for To t and the father and mother of the dead baby—and Wah had a carriage, and all alone, in the silence of the tight closed cab, he rode and grieved for the sunny face and the prattling nonsense of the child he had worshipped with all the devotion of his pagan faith. They buried her at Fern wood in a little grave, in a little plot almost as small, and Wah Kee stood by the grave and cried: “ Floor Tot—ploor Tot 1” And then into the face of the Chinaman came a look of infinite love, and, leaning over the shallow grave, he clasped his hands and sobbed: “Wah Kee has nlo blaby nlow—nlo blaby now 1” And the great tears streamed down his face, and dropping upon the grave, kissed the place where Tot—or all that was left of her—slept in silence. The Jews in Russia. —A somewhat re markable article bag appeared in the Russiche Revue, by Prince Dermidoff de San Donato, in which he shows the very oppressive legislation under which the Jews exist in that country. Except in exceptional cases, they are not al lowed to live where they like, but are forced to reside iu certain provinces, and then only in the towns. By the law of 1865 this position was somewhat ameliorated, and the Jewish work man was permitted to quit his birth-place and settle in another; but practically he cannot move without a passport, which has to be re newed every year, and this may be refused on very slight pretense. Even it he was allowed to go, he would have to obtain a permit of sojourn from the municipal authorities of the town of his choice, which would probably be refused, and if this difficulty were surmounted, another permit would have to be obtained for carrying on his trade. His wife and children may ac company him, but no other relatives; and if he dies in his new abode, his family are obliged to return to their original residence. Should he himself grow old or incapable of getting his livelihood, he has to do the same, even though it was thirty years since he made the change. In almost all parts of Russia, Jews are forbid den to buy or to cultivate land, and there are also restrictions on their entering certain trades and professions. The Eyeball Taken Out. —A new sur gical operation upon the eye waa recently per formed in Philadelphia by Dr. Jones, an oculist, assisted by a number of other eminent surgeons. The operation upon the injured member is thus described : The conjunctiva was first severed from the eyeball; the muscles of the eyeball were then taken up and cut from the ball, the optic nerve cut, and the eyeball taken out. The severed muscles were then caught up again and sewed to the under surface of the conjunctiva, and when this had been accomplished the con junctiva was allowed to fall back into the cavity. It thus forms a sack, in which, when the healing process has been accomplished, the artificial eye will rest. Dr. Jones* theory is, that when, the muscles have become permanently attached to the conjunctiva, as they will in the healing process, they will respond to the movements of the muscles of the healthy eye, move the sack, and consequently the artificial eye, in conformi ty with the movement of its natural companion. Owing to the badly inflamed condition of young Irwin’s wounded eye, the result or the operation will not be so perfect as might otherwise have been the case, but it ikTionfidently expected that enough .was accomplished to demonstrate the value ofDr. Jones’s theory. Waving a Banner in lowa. — One night a young doctor of Newton Center, lowa, escorted the daughter of a prominent and wealthy citizen to church. The lather of the girl had forbidden her to accompany the young man. When church was out the father lay in wait be hind a tree for his daughter’s companion and jumped out upon him as he passed. He seized the young man by the throat and tore his collar off and the bosom out of bis shirt. The old gen tleman then ran away. The doctor went on home with the young' lady as though nothing had happened. When she entered the house her father took her to the parlor, and pointing to the doctor’s shirt bosom, which he had tacked to the wall, said: “ 1 intend to have it framed.” On Monday the doctor saw the old gentleman passing his office. The story of the shirt bosom was already known about the village. The young man rushed out, dragged his Sunday night assailant into his office, and compelled him to take off his white shirt. Attaching to it this placard: “ A contribution for a coward,” he fastened the garment to a pole and hung it out of his office window. Since then the father of the young lady has apologized to the doctor and invited him to call on bis daughter as often as he pleases. A Woman’s Age. —A physician of long practice was reminded that we can judge of a horse’s years by its motion, and asked why some rule could not be laid down in a general way for estimating the age of a woman. The uncertainty is not altogether due to deceptive practices, according to his reply, but to the varying effect of time iu individuals. As a rule brunettes look older than blondes of a corres ponding age. As to plumpness and the lack of it, fat may be said to increase the apparent age of a girhunder twenty-five, and to lessen it in a woman over that; and the reason is that slen derness is girlish as long as it does not produce wrinkles, while rotundity keeps the skin taut and smooth. “In no gathering of women stran gers to you could you guess the ages within five years on the average,” be added, “ and in half the instances you would be ten years out of the way. I know a woman of thirty-five with a son of eighteen, and when seen together, they are commonly mistaken for brother and sister. Popular ideas as to the ages of actresses are extravagantly erroneous. I could, name several whom I know to be tremendously outraged by overestimates.” A Curious Will.— A certain John George, of Lambeth, Eng., who died in 1791, provided for his wife in the following striking way: “ Seeing that I have had the misfortune to be married to the aforesaid Elizabeth, who, ever since our union has tormented me in every possible way; that, not content with making game of all my remonstrances, she has done all she could to render my life miserable; that Heaven seems to have sent her into the world solely to drive me out of it; that the strength of Samson, the genius of Homer, the prudence of Augustus, the skill of Pyrrhus, the patience of Job, the philosophy of Socrates, the subtlety of Hannibal, the vigilance of Hermogenes, would not suffice to subdue the perversity of her char acter; that no power on earth can change her, seeing we have lived apart during the last eight years, and that the only result has been the ruin of my son, whom she has corrupted and estranged from me, weighing maturely and se riously all these considerations, I have be queathed, and I bequeath, to my said wife Eliza beth the sum of one shilling, to be paid unto her within six months of my death.” How a Fox Stole a Baby.— Says the Japan Gazette: Considerable excitement has been caused lately at Katase, a village well known to foreigners, by the doings of a fox. A young well-to-do farmer and his wife, who have a child two months old, are occupying a small wooden building during the rebuilding of their former premises. On September 13tb, the wife, as usual, went to sleep with the little one, but waking during the night, was surprised to find that it had left her side. She at once called her husband, when it was discovered that one of the frail wooden doors had been broken open. The supposition naturally followed that some one had entered and stolen the infant, conse quently the father started with the intention of arousing the neighbors. He had, however, only just stepped outside, when he pereceived a large fox run from under the veranda of the house opposite. Suspecting that Reynard was the culprit, lights were procured and a search made, which, to the delight of the parents, re sulted in the discovery of the baby, who, strange to say, had received no injury beyond a lew scratches. Securing an Audience.— The follow ing anecdote concerning Liszt is given by a musical contemporary: In 1838 the composer was making a tour in France, during which he came to a provincial town where he was to give a performance, but, when all was ready to com mence, the audience was found to consist of seven individuals only. Liszt, nothing daunt ed, mounted the platform with a bland smile upon his face, and,, bowing suavely to the al most empty benches, said: “ Ladies and gentle men, this is a most uncomfortable hall; there fore, if it will be agreeable to you, I will have the piano taken to the hotel where I am staying, ana there, where we shall be more at our ease, I will play through the programme.” The pro posal was cheerfully accepted by the seven guests, who adjourned to the hotel, where Liszt not only went through the entire programme, but afterward pressed his audience to partake of a slight but recherche supper that he had or dered for them. The next evening, on the oc casion of a second concert, the hall was full to suffocation, and many had to be turned sway at the door. ABridal Present. —Archbishop Cran mer had a niece whom he married to a gentle man in every way her equal, and the ceremony was solemnized with much pomp and splendor, the rest of the day being passed in amusements and the receiving of presents, of which the arch bishop’s was the most notable one, and which he concealed from view under his robes. This both the bride and her newly-made husband were most impatient to see. The husband thought it must bo some grant of lands or employment of honor, the wife some rich diamond necklace or other precious ornament; but the archbishop persisted in concealing his present till they had both promised him never to wear it at the same time ; and then he pulled out—a fool s cap I Oysters Living in Sewage. —There can, says a correspondent, be no greater proof of the peril of eating oysters in Naples, even iu healthy times, than the fact that the oysters which the fishermen are accustomed to keep in the sea near to the shore have been destroyed by the carbolic acid thrown into the drains which, issuing from the dirty water, has poi soned and killed the fish. In ordinary times the oysters live in the dirty water issuing from the drains, and how many germs of tynhus and typhoid lever may they not retain within their sheila? — Startling tbk King of Beasts.— 4 General H. F. Sickles, of the .United Stages Army, was telling some friends a short time agq about his first glimpse of a mountain lion. He said, we were living up in the mountains in Colorado, and had quite a herd of cows, among them one old cow who wore a bell. The cows had been missing for several days and thef boys were out searching, and one afternoon I thought I would try what I could do. So I mounted a pony and rode quite a distance, when I thought I heard the old cow’s boll. I dis-i mounted and started to prowl around among the rocks and bushes. It had been raining dur ing the early part of the afternoon, and I bad art umbrella.. I tied the pony to a tree and started. After I had gone a short distance, I caught u glimpse of the cows. As I started toward them, suddenly they all lifted their heads, crooked their tails, and started away on the dead run. I. was just wondering what frightehed them, when I heard a rustling in the bushes behind me. I turned around, and there, not ten feed away, was a big mountain lion, standing on m rock staring at me. I assure you I never felt BQ bashful in. all my life. I hadn’t a gun, or evert a jack-knife; and there was that beast staring and getting ready for a spring 1 AU at once w thought of my umbrella, and as quick aa thought I raised that much-borrowed article! and spread it right in Mr. Lion’s lace 1 Ha didn’t stop to examine, but made one great! jump clear across a gorge, and when he gave a yell that shook the hills. I saw no morel of him. When I got home, the cows were there.’ 3 , Marriage Prejudices in Sicily. —Thei seafaring population have little or nothing t<5 4 say to the landsfolk byway of marriage ; hold-# ing themselves more moral, more industriouS/ ©very way superior to those who live by the harvests of the earth or by the quick returns? and easy profits of trade. But there is muchr more than this. The daughter of a small landed! proprietor will not be given to the master ofc men in any kind of business, nor will the son oft the former be suffered to marry the daughter og the latter. A peasant farmer, without sixpence,, would not let his girl marry a well-to-do sheps herd. A workman, or rather a day laborer—* “bracciante”—would not be received into the family of a muleteer, nor he again into onefc where the head was the keeper of swine or oil cattle. The husbandman who can prune vines disdains the man who cannot dig, let him be? what he will; the cow herd disdains the ox-* herd, and he again the man who looks alter thQ calves. The shepherd is above the goat-herd 3 and so on, down to the most microscopic differ** ences, surpassing even those of caste-ridden In<? dia. A Protection Against Bores. —Mr. [J Leslie, when he began the work of Lapd Comi missioner for South Carolina, found that hia time was frittered away by idle callers. Walk** ing down the street one day a well-dressed fei, male in a store caught his eye, and, wondering why the lady tarried so long, he approached!? * and discovered that the figure was a dummy Just here an original idea struck him. lie waa sure that no one, at least no Southerner, wouldT attempt to interrupt him while he seemed to bet talking to a woman. If a quick-sighted New? Yorker could mistake a dummy for a lady, whg should not other people ? No sooner thought than done. The figure was made and placed int‘ his office. Leslie worked with his back to the} door and his face to the figure. People camCt and looked and waited and walked away. The thing acted like a charm, and the few cents foil calico, buttons, hooks and eyes and a chignow were amply repaid by the saving in the valua*? bio time of the Land Commissioner. An Electric Girl.— The editor of thef Progres Medical has had an electric girl unden observation for the last three years, and calls? attention to some of the more intense roanifesta**’ tions of her condition. Her fingers, for in< stance, attract all sorts of light bodies, such as ribbons and fragments of paper, and slight fric tion applied to the hair will cause the l.lamenta to separate in a remarkable manner. A pass ofc, her hand will cause a napkin to adhere strongly to a piece of furniture, and any one who at tempts to remove the cloth will receive a half inch spark from it. When portions of the girl’sf garments happen to come in sudden and close contact with her skin, bright and crackling; sparks are perceived and the material clings lightly to her. Intense emotion greatly hight-< ens the electrical effect, and whenever she hears an affecting piece of music, the cracklings of thq electric sparks are heard all over her body. The Edible Crab. —The edible crab is obliged to moult or oast off its shell many times during its file. This moulting appears td be an unpleasant ordeal to pass, lor the crabs often die during the act. When we see that they are not only obliged to escape from tha carapax or shell, but also from the hard cover-, ing of their legs, delicate mouth parts, and event gullet—turning themselves inside out, as iff were—it is not surprising that they perish dur ing the ordeal. The crab crawls up into soma, secluded nook or cove in shallow water tq. moult, out ot the way of its hard-shelled rela lives, for the helpless, newly-moulted, or soft-, shell crab, if found, is devoured by them, as well as by several species of fishes. Fortunately^, for the crab, the soil covering hardens rapidly* and in a few hours it has a new and strong armor, and it then goes fearlessly out into the, deeper water. Superstitions About Deaf Muths.—' Among the ancient Greeks deaf mfttes were looked upon as a disgrace to humanity, and under the barbarous laws of Lycurgus they were exposed to death. Nor was highly cul tured Athens less cruel than Sparta toward these unfortunate creatures. Deaf mute chil« dren were pitilessly sacrificed without a voice being heard on their behalf. Aristotle declared! congenital deaf mutes to be incapable of in struction, and this was the universal opinion ofi classical antiquity. The Romans treated the unfortunates with the same cruelty as the Greeks. As soon as a child was found to be deaf and dumb it was sacrificed to the Tiber. . Only those escaped whom the waves washed; back to the shore, or whom the natural love of their parents kept hidden from the eyes of the world. Fond of Spring Chickens. —Says the Cleburne (Tex.) Chronicle: The following extra ordinary incident is absolutely true in every particular, as it is vouched for by Col. Pool in the most emphatic manner, upon whose place it occurred: A few evenings since one of the colonel’s carriage horses got into the yard from the stable lot, and, while there discovered thir teen young chickens in a box near the kitchen. His horseship, or hogship, we hardly know how to term him, immediately made a royal banquet of the whole baker’s dozen, and to the utter aa tonishment of the colonel and his entire devoured every one of the chickens, feathers and all. We do not remember ever to have heard a more wonderful horse story, and wq can establish the truth of the above by the tes-\ timony of Col. Pool and his wife. \ The Champion Kicker. —Says the Los Angeles Express: Dr. Sketcbley, who has charge of the ostrich farm at Anaheim, waa plucking one of the things one day. When they pluck them a stocking is kept on the head td blind the bird. While he cannot see be is quiet, but if his blinkers get uncovered then: he ‘‘goes for ” the plucker. The doctor moved his arm so as to disturb the stocking, and instantly he saw what was done, and went head first out oft the pen, not caring tor any more plumes jus# then. As he tumbled bead first over the fence! the bird—he was a jack one, of course—let fly a kick which, striking a fence board, made tooth picks of a whole panel length. The mule's oc cupation as a kicker is gone in this country since the ostrich came. Telephone Marvels. —Becent experi ments with the telephone in Russia have ena bled two persons to converse a distance of 2,00 Q miles. The experimentalists hope with satis factory conditions, to soon talk over a line miles in length. There is no reason why this should not be accomplished. The rapid strides of science in the matter of electric appliances ini the past few years lead to the belief that we shall soon use electricity for many purposes iq our daily life. Ten years ago the present tele phone would have been laughed at as wholly 1 impracticable. It is not to be supposed now that we have discovered every use to which thief wonderful power can be put. Inventors’ Troubles. —How ly it happens that an inventor sows that others! may reap. One of the saddest cases of thia kind is that of William Lee, an English clergye man, who invented the first stock-making ma-’ chine. He met with no success in introducing his device in England, although he made a paiE ot stockings by it in the presence of King Jameef 1., apd he went to Paris to meet but failure died there in great poverty. But his machine won its way all too late and has been in general' use tor 250 years. Do not be discouraged even if you have tried many remedies for your kidney dis ease or liver complaint without success, it is no reason why you should think your disorder in curable. The most intractable cases readily vield to’the potent virtues of Kidney-Wort. It is a purely vegetable compound, which acts OQ the kidneys, liver and bowels at the same time, and thus cleanses the whole system. Don’®; wait, but get a package to-day and cure your self. Food and Medicine.— Egg gruel is aft once food and medicine. Some have great faith in its efficacy in chronic dysentery. Boil a pint’ of new milk; beat four fresh eggs to light frothf and add to the milk while it boils ; stfr together thoroughly, but do not let it boil again; sweeten with loaf sugar and grate in a small nutmeg , add a little salt. Use half ot it while it is warm and the other half in two hours or so. The Delicate Tubkey. —Turkeys int their earlier stages are sensible to damp—but the same can be said of most other non-aquatiq birds. After they are about eight weeks old, however, they are hardier than any other Kirias of poultry, remaining in the severest storms os wind and rain, and returning to roost without suffering illness. A Numerous Colonel.— The Prince off Wales is the greatest colonel, in a numerical sense, the world has ever known. To say noth in" of his honorary colonelcies in foreign ar mies beside the headship of the Blucher Hus sars, ho is the colonel of no fewer than sixteen regiments in his royal mother’s armies.