New York dispatch. [volume], November 23, 1884, Page 6, Image 6

About New York dispatch. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1863-1899

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6
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.