New York dispatch. [volume], August 07, 1887, Page 6, Image 6

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

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6
PAST AND FUTURE.
God called her home, ye say 1 Ah, well, she’s dead.
Her tender feet no longer tread life’s way;
Her soft, small hands, that wore the marriage ring
So short a time, are folded. We were wed
Me seemeth but a fleeting Summer day;
And she is gone, and life's an empty thing.
Yet do I know—the while my heart is sore,
The while hot tears course slowly down my cheek—
3hough vailed sorrow sits my hearth beside,
That some day life will be a joy once more;
That some day time will heal; will bid me seek
Another love, and woo another bride.
I, standing here, and looking at her face--
Her sweet young race, with its fair girlish brow,
Her soft brown hair, nnlined, unchanged and
bright —
Remember sadly all the tiny space
In which we loved; yet, quivering from the bIOW,
I know I shall forget this piteous sight.
’Tis the worst part, my dear; if I could mourn
With shattered heart, mv whole life long, I would.
But think, one year—only one year was ours-*
Out of my life; must all then be foriorn ?
Nay, though thou’rt dead, life still can be most
good—
Though thou art dead, still Spring will giro her
flowers.
I trust thou may’st not know, in that far land
Beyond the stars, that time will bring me rest.
And yet I think thou would’st not grudge mo
peace. , t a
Ah, God I be good; and let me understand—
Let me believe that all Thou dost is best.
Nor let her suffer, when my sufferings cease.
Fold smooth the shroud over her sweet young
form,
And carry her away, since it must be.
My sorrow shall be buried in her tomb.
At least, she lieth sheltered from life’s storm.
Bo will I leave her there, and fervently
Will pray that light may rise beyond life’s gloom.
a worn CHOICE.
BY ROGER STARBUCK.
•• Oh, papa, do take mo ashore to boo those
animals.”
And as she spoke the soft black eyes of Lucy
Lane, the captain’s pretty daughter, shone like
stare, while the rosy color deepened upon her
smooth cheeks.
Many an admiring glance was turned toward
the young girl ae her organ-like voice rang
along the deck of the whaleship “ Coral,” and
as she stood there on tiptoe—for she was small,
although well termed—with her bright hair fall
ing from under her round fur cap, and her
beaver coat neatly fitting her trim, flexible
■waist, the first and second mates thought they
had never seen a lovelier picture. These two
mates—Henry Rogers and Thomas Wilson—had
been firm friends until Lucy joined her father’s
home-bound ship at the Sandwich Islands,
where she had been visiting an uncle ; then a
bitter rivalry rose between them, and now they
disliked, if they did not positively bate each
Other. Both were fine-looking young men, and
Lucy would often converse with them, although
It was hard to tell which of them she preferred.
In fact she had a kind smile for every one
aboard, even to silent Will Grump, the ship s
blacksmith—a plain man, with a thick, shaggy
beard, crooked shoulders, and arms which, by
being constantly exercised, showed muscles
almost as large as a backstay. Grump, or
'“Grumpy,” as he was called, was a person of
Jew words. Hour after hour he would stand,
When work was required of him, hammering
away at his forge, never speaking to auy one
unless first addressed, and then replying in the
briefest manner. 'Whenever Lucy addressed
him be would, in replying, try to soften his
voice, which was like that ot a lion, but the
presence of the gentle girl always seemed to
embarrass him, although she was often at his
Bide watching him swing his huge hammer.
bow, as Lucy asked to be taken ashore, he
looked up a little anxiously; for he knew that
some of the savages on that part ot the Pata
gonian coast—just south of the peninsula of St.
Joseph, off which the vessel lay becalmed—were
then hostile to the whites.
"Ay, Lucy,” answered Captain Lane, “you
can go ashore to see the seals if you want to,
and I’ll send two good protectors with you—
Wilson, the first mate, and Rogers, the second
officer.”
“Is there any need of both going?” she in
quire 1, blushing. “ I should say one was
enough.”
“Ao, one man was not enough to take care of
a girl,” said the cantain, laughing. “ Girls are
venturesome and sure to get into trouble. ’
“But, papa, the sea-lions are harmless
enough, unless attacked. I am not afraid of
them.”
“ It isn’t the sea-lions, Lucy, but the Indians
1 fear you are to look out for. Of late they have
been badly treated by sailors, and should any
of them make their appearance, they’ll be pretty
Bure to attack the boat.”
“There seem to be none about,” said Lucy.
'• If they should come, I will order the boat
shoved off at once.”
“ No,” said the captain/scrutinizing ilia rooky
coast with I>l3 giks*s, “Ido not see any, but
there be some lurking near the shore, hid
den by those rocks.”
This did not deter Lucy from going. She re
solved to be very caretui, and a good crew,
with a tew rifles and some whaling gear—such
as lances and harpoons—was sent with her, un
der the charge of the two mates, who were
armed with pistols.
As Lucy wished, the two officers landed on a
flat rook about ten fathoms from the shore,
where she could stand and watch the seals.
There they were, hundreds of them, stretching
out their necks, with their human-like eyes
turned skyward, and prolonged, gloomy howls
issuing from their throats.
Leaving two ot the crew with Lucy, the mates
kept on to the shore with the remainder, to
gather at the girl’s request, some of the curious
fossil shells which formed a sort of bank near
One part of the coast, a few yards distant.
Rogers, the second officer, had resolved to
seek a quarrel with Wilson. It had seemed to
him that, on this day, the captain’s daughter
Was very lavish with her smiles to his rival, and
she had actually laughed when that rival macle
some joking remark at Rogers’s etpense, with re
gard to a chance stumble of bis iu the boat.
“I have something to say to you, Wilson,” he
remarked, as, when the boat reached the fossil
bank, he sprang out. “Please to go with me.”
He walked on until behind a rock, out Of
eight of the men, when he turned abruptly to
his companion, who had followed him.
“Now, then,” he said, fiercely, “I want you
to apologize 1”
"Apologize for what?” inquired Wilson.
“For making me a laughing-stock before
Miss Lane 1”
“ Pooh 1 don’t get excited about that. It is not
my fault if she chose to laugh at you.”
“ She would have laughod at you under the
same circumstances, you fool 1” cried Rogers.
"It is not tier I’m finding fault with, but you,
who were so good as to joke about my acci
dent.”
‘“I have reason to think that Miss Lane would
not have laughed at me, under any circum
stances,” answered Wilson.
“ What reason?” inquired Rogers.
" Are you blind ? Can’t you see that lam her
preference? Ay, man, it is so, and I’ll have her
consent to be my wife before we reach home.”
“Liar 1 ’ cried Rogers, in a rage. “She would
never marry such a fool I Come, apologize to
me, before I strike you.”
“lam not used to being called a liar,” said
Wilson. “Perhaps you are crazy enough to
think she prefers you
“1 am quite sure she does. But your apology
—I am waiting for that I”
“That’s the only kind I can give a man who
calls me a liar,” said Wilson, as he struck at
Rogers with his clenched fist.
The second mate parried the blow.
“I will kill you i” he said, almost beside him
self with rage.
Like a tiger he flew at his opponent; but, at
that moment, whiz 1 came something, just miss
ing the speaker’s head, and striking the rock
beyond with a clanking sound. It was a long
spear, and was followed by an ear-splitting yell
as half a dozen gigantic Patagonian savages,
hideous with their ochre-stained visages and
Bkin robes, started up from behind a mound not
far off and rushed toward them.
“ Run lor life!” shouted Rogers, as he emp
tied his pistol at the savage party.
“Ay, run it is !” responded Wilson.
Rogers was already “ streaking ” it as fast as
his long legs could carry him, and Wilson fol
lowed st his utmost rate of speed.
Wbir-r-r! whir-r-r! buz-z-z! buz I went a
cloud of spears so close to the ears of the two
mates that it but renewed life into their legs.
“ I believe I’m hit 1 ’ gasped Wilson, as a spear
grazed his nose.
“No, you’re not—it’s me I” answered Rogers,
as the point of a spear chipped off a piece ot
his gla ed hat.
“ Whisht hoo-oo ! ker-hoo I” went another lot
of spears about the heads ot the mates,
Rogers now saw a six-feet chasm containing a
glaze of ice in front ot Him. At it he went, clear
ing it at a bound. Wilson tried to do the same
thing, but his limbs being shorter, ho failed and
went crashing into the ice.
He caught at Rogers’s leg.
“ Thunderation 1 Let go of my leg 1” yelled
Rogers’
“ Hoo ! hoo !hi I D a whites ! Good 1”
cried one or the savages, and all the others
screamed out in chorus: “Hoo! hi! D n
whites ! Good 1”
“ Let go of my leg !” roared Rogers, kicking
at the rear man.
He kicked so hard and the rear man held on
bo tightly that his boot came half off, hitting
Wilson a stunning blow between the eyes.
“ Help 1 I’m hit now !” shouted Wilson.
" Those savage spalpeens have knocked oil' my
head!”
“ No, they haven’t cried Rogens as he turned,
catching Wilson by the hair and pulling him
out of the chasm.
On they went, shouting to the sailors by the
boat to join them.
They oame, four men in all, and fqr_ some
time their guns kept the natives at bay; '
Ere the men could reload, the savages, who
had been reinforced by two more, made a ’dash
for them as swift as horses, their long hair wav
ing on the wind, their spears upraised. The
missiles were hurled as they came on, and
three of the sailors, wounded by them, limped
to the boat and tumbled into it.
Rogers and the only other member of the
party who was unhurt, now also retreated to it
end shoved it off toward the flat rook upon
which stood Lucy and the two seamen who had
been left there with her.
The savages then ran alongshore until oppo
site the rock alluded to, when thev-daehed into
the water, which was here shallow enough for
fording, and made their way toward the terri
fied girl. It was evident that they would reach
her almost as soon as the boat could do so, in
spite of the shots fired at them by the two
sailors on the rock, and which wounded several
of their number.
Meanwhile a fog, which had been gradually
spreading ever since the crew left the ship,
hung over the water, almost hiding Lucy and
her two companions from the gaze of Rogers,
as he and the uninjured man with him plied
their paddles with might and main, hoping to
gain the rock before the Indians.
The whaling-paddle is so formed that in a
skilllul hand it can propel the light craft used
by the leviathan-hunter with great rapidity;
hilt on this occasion it enabled Rogers to reach
Lucy only a lew seconds before the Patagonians
-eight in all—climbed upon the rock. The
young officer had but just time to help the girl
into the boat when the savages arrived. Two
ot them held on to the vessel, while the men in
it with lances and harpoons endeavored to keep
the assailants at bay.
It would have fared hard with the outnum
bered little party but for the arrival at this mo
ment of another boat from the ship, the captain
of which, although the fog hid the land from
his sight, had guessed by the report ot fire
arms what was going on, and had immediately
set out to the rescue with an armed crew.
A few more savages, however, now oame up
to assist the others, and this served to lengthen
the combat which ensued. Among those who
fought the natives was Grumpy, the ship’s
blacksmith, who had been the first to leap
ashore to the attack. Provided with an enor
mous sledge-hammer, he showered his power
ful blows right and left, knocking down his op
ponents one after another until he had laid four
of them low, when a spear-thrust in the side
sent him reeling over info the boat.
But his courage and prowess had already
turned the tide of battle in favor of the whites,
and a few shots from some of the rilles now sent
the remnant of the savage party retreating to
ward the shore.
Meanwhile, on seeing Grumpy fall, Lucy,
with a wail of anguish, had knelt by his side,
raising his shaggy head in her arms, while she
looked down pityingly upon his closing eyes.
“ Will 1 dear Will 1 speak to your Lucy I” she
cried, in a voice whose accents were unmistak
ably those oi tenderness and love.
Rogers and Wilson, the two mates, groaned
and exchanged glances, for it was now plain
that this girl—the one about whom they bad
quarreled, and who each of them had been con
ceited enough to think preferred him to the
other—cared for neither of them, but was, on
the contrary, deeply attached to the last man
whom they would have thought capable of win
ing her gentle regard—Grumpy, the ship’s
blacksmith.
It was found, when the boats returned to the
ship, that Will was more severely hurt than
any of his companions, many ot whom had been
wounded, although none were killed. At first
it was thought that the blacksmith's injury
would prove fatal, but a skillful doctor and so
kind and gentle a nurse as Lucy eventually
brought him to his feet, with returning strength.
Then the captain informed his mates that his
daughter and Will would be married when the
vessel reached home.
“ 1 never suspected, before he was hurt, that
Miss Lane and he were even friends,” said Wil
son, dryly.
The captain laughed.
“I knew it all along,” he said. “In spite of
his modesty and reserve, Grumpy had the
pluck weeke ago to ask me it he might propose
to Lucy, and as I respect him more than any
man 1 ever knew for his good chatscter and in
dustry, I gave my consent. He wooed her in
his quiet fashion, yet as straight to the mark as
his own good sledge-hammer, and I may add
that he won her, as you have seen.”
The first and second mates were again friends,
while they both felt heartily ashamed of their
late quarrel—one, too, which had caused so
much trouble; for had they not wandered off to
so foolishly dispute about their claims to the af
fections of the captain’s daughter, the savages
would have h .d no chance to attack them, as,
on seeing them, the two officers would have
had time to return to Lucy with the boat, take
her into it, and to head off for the ship, ere the
natives could reach them.
A BIRD’FIOVE.
FROM THE FRENCH OF GUY DE MAUPASSANT.
I have iust read in the columns of a news
paper a drama of passion. Ho killed her and
then put an end to his own life; consequently
he loved her. What matters He and She ?
Their love alone interests me; not because it
moves or astonishes me; not because it touches
my heart or sets me to musing, but because it
brings a remembrance of my own young days,
a strange recollection of a hunting trip, where
Love appeared to me in mid-air, just as crosses
appeared in the skies to the first Christians.
I came into the world with all the instincts
and feelings of the primitive man, tempered,
however, by the - reason and emotions of the
civilized one. I am passionately fond of hunt
ing ; still, the sight of a wounded animal, of
blood on the feathers of a bird, or on my
hands, so thrills my heart that at times I grow
faint.
That year, at the end of Autumn, cold weather
set in all at once. I was waited on by my
cousin, Karl de Rauville, who invited me to
go with him at daybreak to shoot ducks in the
marshes.
My jolly cousin, a red-haired, thick-set and
bearded country gentleman, forty years old, an
amiable semi-brute with lively spirits, and
richly endowed with that French wit which
makes even mediocrity agreeable, dwelt in a
sort of farm-castle situated in a wide valley,
through which flowed a river. The hillsides to
the right and left were covered with lordly for
ests, in which remained magnificent trees, and
where were to be found the rarest game birds
known in that part of France.
Eagles were sometimes killed there; and birds
of passage, which are seldom seen in our too
densely peopled country, would invariably halt
in the venerable branches of the trees, as if they
knew or recognized this little bit of a forest of
olden times, which still remained there, to fur
nish them with a safe resting place during their
short stay of a night.
In the valley were great pastures, irrigated
by little ditches and divided off by hedges; then
further away, the river, no longer confined to
its channel, spread out into an extensive
swamp. This morass, the finest hunting ground
I ever saw, was my cousin’s greatest concern
and he kept it like a warren. In the thick, wav
ing, rustling rushes that covered its surface
had been cut narrow passages, through which
would noiselessly float flat-bottomod boats pro
pelled by long poles. As these went along,
grazing the reeds on either side, the fish would
be seen darting through the grass, or moor
hens diving out oi sight in the twinkling ot an
eye.
lam passionately fond of the water; I love
the sea, notwithstanding it is so vast and so
restless, the rivers so beautiful in their onward
flow as they pass out of sight, and especially
the morasses where palpitates the entirely un
known life of the aquatic animals. The morass
is a complete world on the earth, an entirely
different world, one which has its own species
of life, its sedentary inhabitants, its passing
travelers, its voices, its noises and especially its
mysteries.
Nothing is more perplexing, more disturbing,
and even at times more terrifying than a marsh.
Why is it that a species of fright always seems
to hover over those low, water covered plains ?
Why such uncertain noises among the reeds,
such strange will-o’-the-wisps, the deep silence
that prevails on calm nights, or those fantas
tical fogs which sweep over the rushes like the
shrouds of dead woman, or still that impercep
tible rippling, so light, so soft, and, at times,
more terrifying than the cannon of man or the
thunder of God ? All these things cause mo
rasses to resemble those countries that we see
in our dreams, or those formidable regions
which seem to conceal a dangerous secret never
to be fathomed.
No. Something else is evolved from it. A
graver, a deeper mystery floats through the
heavy fog; it may be the mystery of the creation
itself. For was it not in muddy, stagnant
water, in the heavily saturated grounds lying
exposed to the sun’s heat, that the first germ of
life moved and wriggled?
I arrived at my cousin’s in the evening. It
was cold enough to split the rocks.
During dinner, which was set in a great hall,
whose sideboards, walls and ceiling were cov
ered with stuffed birds, perched on branches
or with extended wings—hawks, herons, owls,
goatsuckers, tiercels, vultures, falcons —my
cousin, himself resembling some strange crea
ture from a cold latitude, dressed as be was in
sealskin garments, was detailing to me all the
arrangements he had made for that very night.
We were to leave at hall-past three so as to
reach, at half-past four, the spot selected for
our stand. A hut built of blocks of ice had
been constructed there to shield us a little
against the terrible wind ttiat blows just before
daybreak, a wind freighted with an icy coldness
which tears the flesh as if with a saw, cuts as it
with a sword blade, stings like nettles and
burns like fire.
My cousin was rubbing his hands together:
“ I have never seen such a freeze,” said he; “it
was already twelve degrees below zero at six
this evening.”
I went to bed right after dinner, and fell
asleep in the glare of the great blaze flaming up
my chimney. I was called up at three o’clock.
I put on a sheepskin overcoat, and found my
Cousin Karl clad in the fur of a bear. After
swallowing two cups of coffee apiooe, and as
many glasses of champagne, we started oft’, fol
lowed by a gamekeeper and our dogs—Piongeon
and Pierrot.
I had my foot out of doors, when I
felt the cold penetrating my very bones. It was
one of those nights when the earth seems dead
with cold. The frozen air stings so much that
it feels unyielding, palpable, not a breath of air
moves it; it nips, goes through, dries up and
kills trees, plants, insects, ana even little birds,
which tumble from the branches to the hard
ground and become as hard as it themselves,
through the effect of the cold. The moon, in
her last quarter, leaning all to one side and
pale, seems fainting in space, and so weak that
she can no longer go on, but remains there,
seized by the cold, paralyzed by the rigor of the
sky surrounding her. She sheds a dry, sad
light over the world, that dying, wan glimmer,
she gives us each month when nearing her
resurrection.
We were going along, side by side, Karl and
I, our backs bent, our hands in our pockets,
and our guns under our arms. As we had
drawn woolen socks over our shoes to enable
US tQ walk OU the frozen river without slipping,
NEW YORK DISPATCH, AUGUST 7, 1887.
we traveled along noiselessly, I watching the
little white'clouds made by the breath of the
dogs.
We soon reached the edge of the morses, and
started down an alley of dried rushes cutting
through this small forest of reeds.
Our elbows, grazing the long, ribbon-like
leaves, left behind us a slight noise, and I felt
myself more than ever moved by that strange,
powerful emotion which always possesses me
while passing through a marsh. This one W 4 8
dead, killed by the cold, since we were tramp
ing along over it, between its dried-up bull
rushes.
All at once, at the end ot one of the alleys, I
saw the ice-hut which had been put up as a
shelter for us. I entered, and, as there was
still an hour to spare beforo the birds would
awake and begin their flight, I endeavored to
warm myself by rolling myself up in a blanket.
Then, lying on my back, I looked up at the
misshapen moon, which had four horns when
viewed through the barely transparent walls of
this polar house.
The cold from the frozen morass, from those
walls ot ice, from the bleak sky, soon pene
trated my whole being to such an extent that I
began to cough.
Cousin Karl became uneasy. “So much the
worse if we kill nothing to-day,” said he, “ but
I will not let you take cold in that way, I shall
have a fire made.” And he ordered the game
keeper to cut down reeds for that purpose. A
lot of these were piled up in a heap in the cen
tre of our hut, the top of which was broken in
to allow the smoke to escape. When the red
flame began to arise along the clear crystal-like
partition, it began to melt slowly, just as if
those icy blocks were sweating. Karl, who had
remained without, called to mo, “Come and
see 1” I went to him and was struck with
amazement. Our cone-shaped hut looked like
a monster diamond with a blazing centre, which
seemed to have suddenly arisen from the frozen
water of the swamp. Within were two fantastic
forms—our dogs warming themselves by the
fire.
A strange cry, one of those wandering, lost
cries, passed over our heads. The light of our
fire was awaking the wild birds.
I am always impressed by this first outcry of
living beings, flying so fast and so far through
the dark atmosphere, before the first light of a
winter’s day breaks along the eastern horizon.
It seems to me, at this frozen hour ot dawn,
that this fleeting cry, flying away on the wings
ot a bird, is a sign breathed forth by the earth’s
soul.
“Earl cried out: ‘Put out the fire. Day is
breaking.’
In fact, the sky was beginning to look pale,
and flocks of ducks dragged across the sky
rapid dark lines, which disappeared as quickly
as they appeared.
A flash lit up the darkness. Karl had just
shot, and the two dogs sprang gayly away.
Then every minute, now Karl, then myself,
we would take aim and fire at whatever flew
above us, while Pierrot and Piongeon, out oi
breath and joyous,would bring to us the bleed
ing birds, whose eyes were very frequently
still gazing consciously upon us.
The day opened bright and blue, and when
the sun appeared at the end of the valley we
began to think of returning home, when two
birds w th outstretched necks and extended
wings slid through the air above our heads. 1
fired. One of them fell, almost at my feet. It
was a silver-bellied teal. Then, in away
up above me, a voice, the voice of a bird, cried
out. It was a short, plaintive, heartrending
cry, and the little creature that had been spared
began flying around in the blue sky above us,
eyeing his dead companion that I was holding
in my hands.
Karl, one knee on the ground, was watching
with an eager eye the movements of the bird,
waiting for it to come within shot.
“ Yon have killed the female,” said he, “ the
male will not fly away.”
Certainly he did not seem likely to fly off. He
kept on turning about us, continuing his dole
ful cry. Never did the moan of suffering so
rend my heart as did this desolate call, resem
bling the reproachful lament of that creature
lost in space.
At times he would fly off from the threatening
gun that followed his movements, seeming
ready to continue his journey alone across the
sky. Then again he would return, as if he
could not go and leave his female behind.
“ Throw the duck to the .ground,’ said Karl;
“he will soon come nearer.”
He did come nearer, in fact, reckless of dan
ger, maddened by his love for that other crea
ture I had just killed.
Karl fired. It was as if a string, keeping the
bird swinging in midair, had been cut. I saw
something black tumbling down ; I heard amid
the reeds the noise of a falling body, and Pier
rot brought the bird to me.
I put both ot them, cold and stiff already, in
the game bag, and that very day I returned to
Paris.— jVcic Orleans Times-Pemocrat,
at hrTclrcus.
AN ANIMATED INTERROGATION
toint l
(From the Arkansaw Traveller.)
A miildla-ageci mm, whosa faes bore the im
print ot that great household virtue, patience,
leading a little boy by the hand, elbowed his
way through a crowd *t a circus. “ We’ll sit
here, Jimmie, where we can see everything,”
said he. “ Now we are all right.” The boy
gazed in astonishment at the vast crowd, re
mained silent lor a lew moments and then said:
“Papa, papa.”
“Well.”
“ When will the showman come ?”
“ Alter a while.”
“ Do them men over there with the horns be
long to the show ?”
“ Oh, yes.”
“ An’does that man standin’ there by that
pole own the show?”
“ No, that’s a town marshal.”
“ What’s a town marshal ?”
" A man that arrests people,”
“How arrests them?”
"Puts them in jail.”
“ Will lie put you in jail ?”
"Oh, no.”
. "Why?”
" Because I haven’t done anything.”
“ How done anything ?”
“ Why, I haven’t been bad,”
"But you could knock him down, if he tried
to put you in jail, couldn’t you?”
“ I suppose so.”
“ And then he’d let you alone, wouldn’t he?”
“I think so.”
The band struck up and the performance
began. The boy, becoming all eyes tor a time,
lost bis tongue.
“There’s the clown,” said the father, but the
next moment he regretted having said any
thing, tor the boy wanted to know what was a
clown.
“ Why, he’s the man that makes the people
laugh.”
“ Will he make you laugh ?”
“Well, I think not.”
“ Why ?”
“Because I have seen him so often,”
“ Will he make me laugh ?”
“ I think so.”
“Why?”
“Hush, now, and look at the performance.”
“ What’s the performance ?”
“ The acting.”
“ What’s the acting ?”
“ What the actors do in the ring.”
“ What’s the ring ?”
" That er—that round place out there. Look
at the lady on the horse.”
"Does mamma ride that way?”
“Of course not. What do you mean ?”
“Last night, when you come home, you told
her every time you staid out late she got on a
high horse.”
“I was joking.”
“ What’s joking?”
“For goodness sake, hush. See, all those
people are looking at you.”
“ What for ?”
“ Ob, I don’t know.”
“ Why ?”
“Listen, now. The clown’s going to sing.”
“ What lor ?”
“Hush.”
“Why?”
“ If you don’t hush i’ll take you home.”
A few moments of silence followed. One of
the clowns said something, the audience roared,
and the boy, turning to his father, asked why
the people laughed.
“Laughing at what the clown said.’/
“ What did be say ?”
“ I don t know.”
“ What made you laugh, then ?”
“ Hush.”
“ Why? What is the man sayin’ ?”
“Announcing the concert.”
“ What’s the concert ?”
“ A show.”
“ This show ?”
"No.”
“ Another show ?”
“Ah, hah.”
“ Where?”
“ Here.”
“Right now ?”
“ No.”
"When?”
“My gracious alive! if you don’t hush I’ll
take you home. I never saw such a boy in my
life. You are worse than the nettle rash.”
“ What’s the nettle rash ?”
“ It’s -it’s—oh, 1 don’t know 1”
“ What made you say I’m worse than it for,
then?”
“Are you going tb hush?” glaring at the boy.
“Yes, sir.”
" Well, see that you do, now.”
After a short silence the boy broke out again
concerning the man who sold song books :
“ What does he want to sell them tor ?”
“ For money.”
“To buy candy with?”
“Ab, hah.”
“ Has he got any boys ?”
“ I don’t know."
“ Why ?”
“ Great Ca-sar 1 didn’t I tell you to hush ?”
“ Who is Casar ?”
“ A man. Hush.”
“ A showman ?”
“ Ah, hah,” abstractedly.
“Could ho jump over a horse?”
“Yes,” musingly.
“ Did you know him ?”
“Ah, hah.”
“Did 1 ever see him?”
“ Yes. ’
“Does mamma know him ?”
“ Know who ?” arousing himself.
“C.sar.”
“No, no. What are you talking about?”
“ Do you like him ?”
" Come on. now; we are going home.”
‘‘ What for?”
“ The show’s over.”
“Are you going to stay to the concert?” some
one asked.
“Not if I can help it,” the father replied.
Shortly afterward a perspiring mah, leading a
“hang-back” boy, might, with the naked eye
have been seen walking across a lot. The man
sighed deeply and the boy asked ;
“ What made you do that?”
"thOwORD.
Something About the Blades of all
Ages and Nations.
(From the New Orleans Picayune,)
For thousands of years and until the inven
tion of gunpowder, the sword was the chief
weapon used in battle. A collection of the
swords of all ages and all nations would be of
extreme interest. It would embrace the stone
swords of the American aborigines, pointed and
double-edged, 22 inches long in the blade,
which was with marvelous skill wrought from a
flint stone, and of which one of the most mag
nificent specimens extant is in the fine private
museum ot Dr. Joseph Jones, of this city.
There would be also the bronze swords of the
early Greeks and of the Teutonic races ; the
short, stout sword of the Romans, with its
double-edged blade 19 inches long, of steel,
tempered by Celtiberian smiths, carried to Italy
ffom the Spanish Peninsula. Prominent would
be the long two-handed swords ot England, in
the time of Richard the Lion, with blades
nearly 5 feet long, the weapon being slung to
the back and drawn over the left shoulder.
The sword of Richard naturally suggests the
scimitar of Saladin, with its Damascus blade
curved like the orescent it so ably fought for.
Such a collection would not be complete with
out the sword of the South Sea Islander, made
of wood, its edge set with shark a teeth or
splinters of obsidian in serrated rows, terribly
formidable when used upon the naked body of
a toe.
The sword represents so much in war, history
and romance, that it brings up an endless array
of interesting and imposing events. All the
early people used a shield to repel attacks with
the sword, but after the Middle Ages the art of
fencing, probably derived from India, waa de
veloped to such a degree that the shield could
be dispensed with, and the sword became both
sword and shield. All the readers of the in
comparable romances of Alexandre Dumas, will
remember the phenomenal fencing of the cele
brated guardsmen.
The Orientals are the only people who spe
cially sharpen their swords. Their curved
blades, made as keen as razors, are terribly
formidable to men not protected by steel armor.
In the celebrated trial of skill between the Eng
lish King and the Saracen Sultan, as related by
the immortal Walter Scott, the English cham
pion, by main force, cle t helmets and chopped
through atone blow an iron mace, while the
Saracen, with his keen blade, cut through
shreds of silk gauze as they floated through the
air.
In regard to xhe use of sharp blades for wea
pons, it is possible that the partiality of the
American negro for a razor is due to the pres
ence of the Oriental passion for keen-bladed
swords. It has also been suggested in this
connection that the razor, except where special
statutes on the sub ect exist, not being consid
ered a weapon, could be carried without suspi
cion or hindrance, hence its use by the negro.
A correspondent irom India, writing to the
“ i nglish Mechanic ’ on the wonderful sword
practice with sharp blades, says:
“The quiet dweller in Europe will scarcely
believe the prodigies performed in sword-cut
ting by these coarse, ill-looking bits of curved
metal, costing frequently no more than is. ( ; d.
to 2s. I had shot numerous wild beasts, when
1 was told by an expert that my hunting educa
tion was very deficient, as I could not handle a
scimitar to stop my game. I was told to exer
cise continually on a pillow of soft clay, and thus
aoiuire the drawing cut at the proper part ot
the blade; then on a pillar loosely stuffed with
cotton; then on a newly killed wildcat or jackal,
kneaded previous to the practice by the feet of
a heavy man till the carcass became a loose,
soft mass, then on a great pond carp, a fish clad
with heavy, horny scales, like elastic mail—con
sidered an Al feat to test man and sword.
“My first trial at this experiment resulted in
a triple fracture of the good blade, sundry scales
flying in the air, uncut, only dislodged; then
the artistic tour de force at paper cones placed
on a table, and muslin thrown up to a hight
ail manner of strange and difficult tasks, which,
being only ornamental, I eventually forsook for
the useful and more easy decapitation ot fierce
quadrupeds, beginning with a wounded wild
hog of full growth, and on essaying the sloping
stroke behind the ears, sweeping off the head
neatly, that important part dropping between
the forefeet. Not long before I had seen a bold
young Ghoorka dismount irom his elephant,
leaving it standing to await his return, and fol
low on loot alone an immense boar ho had
wounded with his ri ’e. On nearing the power
ful brute, it champed its foamy tusks to charge.
He drew his kookre (or Nepaulese sword>, and
as it sprang at him the blade was buried across
piggy’s back, all but aever-ing.him in two parts.”
The sword in modern warfare is getting to be
a mere badge of office, and a proposition is said
some time ago to have been made to atrip the
infantry officer in the French army of his sword
and give him something to shoot with. The
manufacture of swords all over, the world is
represented to have declined visibly, and it is
stated that there is not in the United States to
day a single establishment where sword blades
are made, un'ess it may be that sabres for the
cavalry are manufactured in the United States
Armory at Springfield, Mass.
A TEkkiBLE CHAMBER.
The Torture-Boom of the Paris Con
ciergene Described by Victor Hugo.
The chamber occupies the ground floor of the
crenelated tower, the smallest of the three
round towers on the quay. In the centre was
an ominous and singular looking object. It was
a sort of long and narrow table of lias-stone,
joined with molten lead poured into the crev
ices, was heavy and supported on three stone
legs. This table was about two and one-halt
feet high, eight feet long, and twenty inches
wide.
On looking up I saw a great rusty iron
hook fastened in the round stone which forms
the keystone of the arch. This object is a rack.
A leather covering used to be put over it, upon
which the victim was stretched. Ravaillao re
mained for six weeks upon this table, with his
feet and hands tied, bound at the waist by a
strap attached to a long chain hanging from the
ceiling. The last ring of this chain wasslipped
onto the hook, which 1 still saw fixed above my
head. Six gentlemen guards and six guards of
the Provost Department watched him night and
day.
Damiens was guarded like Ravaillao in th : s
chamber, and tied down upon this table during
the whole time occupied by the inquiry and the
trial of his case. Desrues and Cartouche were
tortured upon it. The Marchioness de Brin Vil
liers was stretched upon it stark naked, fasten
ed down, and, so to speak, quartered by four
chains attached to the four limbs, and there
suffered the fright ul “extraordinary torture by
water,” which caused her to ask: “How are you
going to continue to put that great barrel of
water in this little body ?”
A whole dark history is there, having filtered,
so to speak, drop by drop into the pores of
these stones, these walls, this vault, this bench,
this table, this pavement, this door. There it
all is; it has never quitted the place. It has
been shut up there; it has been bolted up.
Nothing has escaped from it, nothing has evap
orated; no one has ever spoken, related, be
trayed, revealed anything out of it. This crypt,
which is like the mouth of a funnel turned‘up
side down—this case, made by the hands of
men—this stone box, has kept the secret of all
the blood it has drank, of all the shrieks it has
stifled.
The frightful occurrences which have taken
place in this Judge’s den, still palpitate and
live, and exhale all sorts ot horrible miasmas.
What a strange abomination is this chamber ;
what a strange abomination is this tower placed
in the very middle or the quay, without any
mote or wall to separate it from the passer-by.
Inside, the saws, the boots, the wooden horses,
the wheels, ihe pincers, the hammers wh eh
knock in the wedges, the biasing of flesh
touched with red-hot iron, the spluttering of
blood upon the live embers, the cold interroga
tories oi the magistrates, the despairing shrieks
of the tortured man ; outside, within four paces,
citizens coming and going, women chattering,
children playing, tradespeople selling their
wares, vehicles rolling along, boats upon the
river, the roar of the city, air, sky, sun, liberty.
TOOTHPICKS.
TH-E SUGAR PINE THE BEST AND
SWEETEST.
{From the San Francisco Ex,miner,)
“I am going up into Oregon to make a few
toothpicks,” remarked Jerome Huntington, of
Detroit, yesterday.
“ Can’t I get all I need here without going so
far? Oh, yes, but I am going to manufacture
them—go into the business and turn them out
by the millions. At least, I will if I can get a
location that will suit me, with the kind oi tim
ber necessary.
“Sugar pne is the best. It is a straight,
clear-grained, white wood, easily cut up. An
other thing, it is sort of sweet to the taste.
Now, redwood would be great for toothpicks
were it not for that. The taste is a little bitter,
and the color is not exactly fashionable.
“ People want the recherche thing in tooth
picks the same as in anything else. A man
down near Bar Harbor got ruined a year or two
ago going into this business, just because he
consult the popular taste. He had an idea didn’t
he was going to make a barrel of money out of
these red toothpicks, and shipped a lot down to
Newport and Bar Harbor. The fashionables
sat on them. White was what they wanted, and
they refused to take any other, and their decis
ion fixed the question for every other place.
The man ‘busted.’
“ Ten thousand dollars will start me beauti
fully in the business. You don’t have to have
so very much machinery, but what you do have
must be good.
“Do you know that there is now a monopoly
in the toothpick business, the same as there is
in coal oil? There is. What is known as the
National Toothpick Association has the bulge
on the business all over America at the present
date. Thev make about 10,009,000,000 tooth-
picks a year, beside controlling mills at Bel
mont, N. Y., Fond du Lao, Wis., and Harbot
Springs, Mich. Their principal works are in
Maine, however.
*‘They swing a big business and carry things
with a high hand, like the Cotton-seed Oil Trust
or the Cattle Trust.
“ We think we can catch the trade of the Pa
cific coast for a starter, and eventually spread
over the mountains to the Fast. People must
have toothpicks, and we intend making a supe
rior article. From what I have heard of the
pineries of Josephine county, Ore., I am favor
ably impressed with that region.
“Beside, the California and Oregon road is
now completed, making an all-rail route to Port
land, and thus, virtually, with the entire coast,
and the location will be good on this account.
People are inclined to laugh about the subject
of freight in connection with toothpicks, yet it
is no inconsiderable item. The National Asso
ciation I have referred to got out over fi-ty car
loads of toothpichs this year up to June last.
You can always get in and out better to be lo
cated on a line of railroad. Your machinery,
and everything about the business can be hand
led better.
“ My brother, now in Michigan, will probably
join me. We ought to get started by October
anyway. Our plant will come from New York.
I think we can make some money out here.”
Mr. Huntington left for the North last night.
A FIVE ACTS.
The Cheerful Scheme of a New York
Fortune Hunter and Its Direful Result.
(From the Atlanta Constitution.)
I.
“ Who was that in your box ths other night,
Mollie?” asked a beautiful blonde being,
framed by nature to support the struggling
milliners at the expense of the head of the
family first and some other man after, to a
brunette being of the same kind.
“ Oh, that was Mr. Smith, of New York. He’s
awfully handsome, isn’t he, Josie?”
“He’s just splendid.”
“ He’s of good family, too.”
“ Introduce me, won’t you ?”
“ Oh, he s poor."
“ Poor thing !”
“I’ll tell vou what we’ll do. I’ll keep him for
the Santa Cruz trip, and you can have him lor
the springs.”
11.
Extract from a letter irom Augustus Cmsar
Smith, San Francisco, to his sister in New York:
“You will be pleased, my dearest sis, to know
that lam progressing finely in California I
have just met a most charming young lady, Miss
Mollie Blank, whose father has devoted many
years most successfully to dollarculture. She
is much struck with me, and it seems to lie.
quite genuine. She has invited me so strongly
to go to Santa Cruz while her family is there
that 1 trust to consummate the matrimonial
scheme very shortly. 1 feel that I only need
speak now to be accepted. Congratulate me I”
111.
“ How was he, Mollie ?”
“Who?”
“ Smith.”
“Smithl What Smith?”
“Smith of New York.”
“Oh, he was splendid. The first two weeks
we had an elegant time.”
“ Well, you remember your promise ?’’
ft What about ? :>
“ To give him to me.”
“Certainly. You can have him. He’s all
right; very pleasant and agreeable until he
proposes to marry you. Then he’s no good.
Look out for him. He made ei<jht holes in the
sand with his knees at Santa Cruz imploring me
to become Mrs. Smith.”
IV.
Extract from a letter from A. C. Smith to his
sister:
“You will be pained to learn that I found the
Miss Mollie Blank I told you about a little fool.
I couldn’t stand her after two weeks’ acquaint
ance. I have become smitten with a true and
noble little woman, Miss Josie , who is in
every respect the antithesis of that coquette.
She will make a lovely little wife, and she is
quite as wealthy. I am happy this time, for 1
know she loves me.”
V.
Brief note from A. C. Smith to his sister:
“My Dsarest Sister—Strike father for $250
for me to get home with.
“ Your affectionate brother, Gus.”
NOTHIN* TO SAY,
BY JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY.
Nothin’ to say, my daughter I Nothin’ at all to
say 1—
Girls that's in love, I’ve noticed, ginerally has their
way I
Yer mother did, afore you, when her folks objected
to me—
Yit here I am, and here you air! and yer mother—
where is she ?
You look lots like your mother : Party much same
in size;
And about the same complected; and favor about
the eyes.
Like her, too, about livin’ here, because she couldn’t
stay;
It’ll ’most seem like you was dead, like her—but I
hain't got nothin' to say.
She left you her little Bible—writ your name acrost
ti; e page-2.
And left her ear-bobs fer you, ef ever you come of
age.
I’ve alius kep’ ’em and guarded ’em, but if yer
goin’ away—
Nothin’ to say, my daughter! Nothin’ at all to say.
You don’t rekollect her, I reckon ? No; you wasn’t
a year old then !
And now yer—how old are you? Why, child, not
"twenty?” When?
And yer nex’ birthday’s in Apri’e ? and you want to
get married that day ?
* * * I wiaht yer mother was livin’ !—but—l
hain’t got nothin* to say.
Twenty year! and as good a gyri as parent ever
found 1
There’s a straw ketched onto yer dress there—l’ll
bresh it off—turn round.
(Her mother was jest twenty when us two run
away 1)
Nothin’ to say, my daughter. Nothin’ at all to say.
Care of Idle Boilers. —Many boilers
used during the winter months for heating, are
now lying idle. During the interval ot warm
weather is the time to have them care’ully ex
amined and, if necessary, repaired. Give them
a thorough inspection, and then adopt some
good method to prevent corrosion. It will not
do to trust to luck to bring them out all right in
the Fall, for neglect, when out of use, will cause
a boiler to deteriorate more than it would wear
out in doing the work ordinarily required ot it.
The mam ob ect is to keep the boiler irom rust
ing. It it could bo kept perfectly dry, there
would be no tear of thia ; but it ia almost impos
sible to prevent moisture in a boiler, no matter
how carefully it has been dried. Filling the
boiler with clean water and closing all the inlet
and outlet pipes is advocated. By this method
the inside of the boiler will be preserved, but
moisture is bound to accumulate on the out
side. External coroaion is likely to result in
this case. If it were possible for a man to get
at every part of the boiler, it could be given a
coat of paint and thus protected ; but, unfortu
nately, there are many places that cannot be
reached by the paint brush, and, in squirting or
slopping paint into cracks and crevices, the
chances are always that it does not strike all
the surfaces. Decidedly the best method of
protecting a boiler from corrosion, etc., during
the summer months, is that of coating the ex
posed internal parts of the boiler with oil.
Pour three or four gallons of black oil into the
boiler after it has been cleaned and properly
dried ; then turn the water on slowly. The oil
having already formed a coating on the bottom
of the boiler, is floated on the surface of the
water and continues to rise with it. When the
boiler ia filled, it will be found that every part
has received a thin coating of oil on its dry sur
face. The water can then be drawn off. Alter
dripping has ceased at the outlet pipes, remove
the man-hole plate anff look at the boiler, it
will be found “ well greased.”
The American Beauty Rose.—This
rose, which has created such a furore in the flo
ral world the past season or two and supposed
to have been an American seedling, is, accord
ing to the Crardeners’ Monthly, identical with
one raised by Ledechaux, of France, iu 1875,
and named Mme. Ferdinand Jamain. It had
not, previous to the discovery of its remarkable
forcing qualities, raised any great stir in the
rose world. But when it was found to be a
splendid house rose, with a good cupped shape,
and highly scented, and a taking name like
American Beauty was added to it, and when a
large sum of mdney was paid for the stock, and
plenty of printer’s ink used to help matters
along, it received the highest encomiums on all
sides. Fr. Harins, arosarian of Hamburg, hav
ing purchased a quantity of the supposed new
American rose, was not long in discovering that
he had an old friend under a new name, and he
has not been very complimentary to the Ameri
can authority for the change. There is, how
ever, no question but that the discovery of its
eminent fitness for Winter forcing sprang from
this side, and as suck, Mr. Mehan says, “ We
hold that a man who discovers a new merit is as
much entitled to reward as one who discovers a
new rose.” The assumption is that the name
given the rose on this'Side will hang to it pretty
tenaciously, at least for a while, it was but-a
short time ago that Mr. John Henderson, a
noted rose-grower, made pretty nearly a simi
lar mistake with what is known as Papa Gon
tier ; but in this case its origin was discovered
before harm was done, and the old name was
continued.
Silence Golden at the Theatre.—
The late Mrs. John Blakes, of Boston, after re
peated but ineffectual “ dagger looks” at whis
perers in a theatre, arose, turned around, and
said, in a loud tone to the offenders: “For
Godis sake, hold your tongue, will you ?” She
succeeded in quieting the party; but no sooner
than the late Robert Apthorp, a genuine lover
of music, who, after being a long time annoyed
by ceaseless tongues, arose, turned to his noisy
neighbors, and in his gentlemanly manner, said,
while bowing in a courtly way. “Will you be
kind enough to permit mo to listen to the
music?” The voices were hushed in a moment,
and remained so for the rest of the evening.
All Sane.—One day last year, relates I
a writer in an English contemporary, I was
personally conducted over a well‘known lunatic
asylum. It was a fine afternoon, and many of
the patients were m the grounds. I mixed
freely w th them, and conversed with those who,
spying a stranger, hastened to find a confidant
for their troubles. They were all of them per
fectly sane; they had been brought in the asy
lum because they were in somebody's way.
One buxom young woman had been torn from
her parents because the Prifcce of Wales had
arranged to elope with her, and it was most im
portant that she should go homo again, as the
Prince was waiting in estminster Abbey or 1
her, with the Archbishop of Canterbury, and he
would be wondering why she did not come to
marry him, as arranged. I also met in the
grounds a venerable gentleman of benevolent i
appearance, who took me into a quiet corner. ,
and asked me to lend him a farthing. I offered .
him a penny, which was the smallest coin I had l
about me. He heaved a deep sigh, and said 1
that that was of no use. The Bank of England
had been offered to him at a bargain—the bank,
with all its contents. The price was only a
thousand pounds; but the governor and com
pany had made it a stipulation that the pur
chase money should be paid in farthings. The
old gentleman had already saved up nearly a
hundred; but farthings were getting very scarce.
He would gladly give five shillings each for
them if I would tell him where they were to be
had. I stayed in the grounds an hour, and
should have stayed longer but tor the deter
mined attitude ot an old lady, who held me
fiercely by the collar of my coat while she went
into very minute details ot a murder which she
had committed. The victim was her husband,
and his crime was making faces at her. She
had killsd him by making faces at him—such
dreadful faces that he had diedfby inches, of
fright.
Real Poverty.—One day Alfred de
Musset, the French poet, in the flower of his
gay and brilliant youth, was walking on the
beach at the little Breton watering-place ot
Croisie, surrounded by a joyous gathering ot
young men and women. They had just left the
luncheon-table, where the dejeuner had been
plentiful and the wines good. It was splendid
weather and old ’ocean's rippling laugh was
heard by the rolling shingle. Among all the
gay company, without doubt the brightest wit
that day was Allred de Musset; his play of
fancy was inexhaustible; he was the life and
soul of the party—and yet this incorrigible
spendthrift had nearly emptied his purse to pay
for the least. One louis was all that remained
to him—a new and bright louis d’or—which he
was throwing up and down in the air, laughing
meanwhile at his poverty. Poverty, however,
who does not like being made game of, sudden
ly appeared upon the scene, round the cliff, in
the person of a little girl in rags and tatters,
asleep, with her head on a heap of seaweed.
The songs and laughter ceased and the merry
p rty stopped short. Musset continued to play
with his one wretched louis d’or, which shone
brightly in the sunshine. Boon, however, draw
ing near gently, he placed between the pink
half-closed lips of the child—very softly, that he
mi"ht not rouse her—the louis d or, his last re
maining resource. Charity is catching ; his ex
ample was followed by nearly all present, and
the poor peasant-child, when she awoke later,
found undreamt of riches in her grasp.
An Ancient Chinese Pair.—Says “All
the Year Bound The traditions of the Liu-
Kiuans can only be regarded ae hazy, however
circumstantial, when wo find that they extend
back to the year 16,615 B. C., when two ances
tors of their race somehow came into being and
were called Omo-mei-kiu. They married, and
had three sons and two daughters. The eldest
son was Tien-tsin, or the grandson ot heaven,
and be was the first king of the islands ; from
the second son descended the tributary princes,
and from the third son the common people.
The eldest daughter was called Kun-Kun, the
Spirit of Heaven, and the second daughter was
Tcho-Tcho, the Spirit of the Sea. Thereafter
the historian becomes confused or forgetful,
for the traditions skip over some 18,000 years,
during which twenty-five dynasties had had
their day and ceased to be, and bring us at one
step to A. D. 1187, when Chun-tien began his
reign, and the authentic history of the islands,
which, it will be observed, is some 600 years
later than the alleged discovery of the Chinese
traveler, Chu Kwan. The main island is only
five days’ sail from Foo Chow, and it is on
record that one of the emperors of the Sui
dynasty sent an expedition, accompanied by
many learned people, to request the King of
Liu-Kiu to come and pay homage. This the
king declined to do, whereupon the emperor
sent an array of 10,000 men, who defeated the
Liu-Kiuans, killed the king, burned the capital,
captured some 5,000 slaves, and then returned
to China.
The Race Not Degenerating. —The
complaint about the degeneracy of the humsn
race is not new, but dates as far back as the
time ot Homer, at least, for the men of his day
were not like the heroes of whom he sang. It
is not confirmed, but is contradicted by all the
tangible facts, and these are not a few. Human
remains that are exhumed, after having reposed
jn the grave for many centuries, as in the cata
combs of Paris, have nothing gigantic about
them. The armor, the cuirass and the casques
of the warriors of the Middle Ages can be worn
by modern soldiers, and many ot the knights’
suits would be too small ior the cuirassiers of
the European armies, yet they were worn by
the selected ntien. who were ? stronger
and more robust than the rest oftEe popula
tion. The bones of the ancient Gauls, tfbich
are uncovered in the excavations of tumuli,
while they are of large dimensions, are compar
able with those of the existing populations ot
many places in France. The Egyptian mum
mies are the remains of persons of small or
medium stature, as are also the Peruvian and
Mexican mummies, and the mummies and
bones found in the ancient monuments of India
and Persia. And even the most ancient relics
we possess of individuals of the human species,
the bones of men who lived in the tertiary
period, an epoch, the remote antiquity ot which
goes back for hundreds of centuries, do not
show any important difference in the sizes of
the primitive and the modern man.
Secret of Long Living.—Underlying
the old proverb, “Every man is a fool or a
physician at forty,” there is the important truth
that it is in every man’s power, if he is wise, to
recognize early in life (like Cornaro) the re
quirements ot his own constitution and the
means by which all such stores of vitality as it
may possess, may be utilized. An able phy
sician said to me a short time ago : “ In all my
experience I have never known but one man
who died a natural death,” and he went on to
explain that a m*<n can only be said to die a
natural death when he dies all at once, when
the organs on which circulation, respiration and
nutrition all depend, fail about the same time ;
whereas one man dies because circulation fails ;
another, because the respiratory organs give
out, and yet another because stomach, liver,
kidneys or bowels become unequal to their
work. In fine, the secret of longevity lies in
the attainment of a natural life, to be brought
to an end by a natural death, and nearly every
man, did he but give his vital powers fair
chance, would find that, like
"The wonderful one-boss shay,
He was built in such a logical way
[As to run] a hundred years to a day.
And then of a sudden [to pass away].”
Swimming for Girls.—Miss Emily
Faithful writes thus in the Lady's Pictorial: A.
Swedish friend once told mo that in Sweden if
a lady cannot swim she is at once suspected of
some exceptional delicacy ot constitution, just
as we should credit an English girl with some
special weakness if wo hoard she could not
walk, and she said that in almost every city
there was an excellent arrangement for open-air
swimming. I should like to see the matter
taken up more keenly by our Board schools.
The physical power of poor children is terribly
drained by impure air and unclean dwellings - ,
and scant, ill-prepared food. Bathing would
certainly prove of great advantage in the devel
opment of their bodies I remember hearing
an anecdote from a well-known clergyman in
the Midlands who has done much to promote
the physical as well as the moral well-being of
the poor in bis district, which is worth repeat
ing. Ho : lw!»ys treated his choir boys to a
weekly bath, and asking the mother oi an ab
sentee the cause of his non-appearance, she re
plied she had forbidden her son to go because
shs could not satisfy him with bread a'terwnrd
-“it made him so hungry.” Nothing is more
invigorating to the health than swimmtiig.
A Curious Discovery.—Just about
four hundred years ago, not long before Colum
bus discovered America, Diego Cano discovered
the mouth of a great river on the coast of West
Africa. On the south bank he set up a big
white stone, and carved an inscription upau.it,
celebrating his discovery. It wae the mighty
Congo, and for many years the famous Pedra
Padrao stood on the shore bearing silent wit
ness to the old sailor’s achievement. Years
later, when all eyes were turned to the New
World, the Congo was almost forgotten, and
when it next attracted notice the Pedra Padrao
had disappeared. The spot where it stood has
for centuries been known as Padrao Point.
Three or lour months ago, Baron von Schwebin,
the Swedish traveler, heard from some natives
of a large fetich stone hidden in the tall jungle
grass at some distance from the beach. It was
only after long palavers with the chief that he
obtained permission to visit the revered object.
He found, to his delight, the veritable Pedra
Padrao, its well-known inscription only par
tially effaced. This famous monument of a
great discovery will doubtless be treasured
hereafter as one of the most-interesting relics
of the early navigators.
Remarkable Wood.—A Nevada paper
describes a remarkable kind of wood which is
said to grow there. The trees do not grow ■
large, a tree witfra trunk about a foot in diame
ter being much above the average. When dry,
the wood is about as hard as boxwood, and be
ing of a very flue grain, might, no doubt, be
used for the same purposes. It is of a rich red
color and very heavy. When well seasoned, it
would be a fine material for the wood-carver.
In the early days it was used for making boxes,
for sha t ng, and in a few instandes for shoes
and dies in quartz batteries. Used as a fuel i-t
creates an intense heat. It burns with a blaze
as long as ordinary wood would last, and is
then found -almost unchanged in form-con
vened into charcoal that lasts twice as long as
ordinary wood. For fuel, a cord of it brings
the same price as a ton of coal.
PiiEsrsnvATioN of Eggs.— Australian
eggs are preserved in the following simple
manner: The vessels in which the eggs are to
be placed are glass jars with patent
vulcanized India-rubber joints making thenn
perfectly air-tight. As soon as the eggs hav6
been collected, the jars are allowed to stand in
hot water until the air in them has becomfe
thoroughly warm and rarefied. The jars hat-<
ing been heated, the eggs are wrapped up in
paper to prevent them from knocking together,
and placed in the warm receptacle, their point’
ed ends being uppermost. The jars are imme*
diately closed up, and then, and not until then,
are removed from the hot water. It is said
that, if this process is skillfully carried out, th®
eggs will be as fit for the breakfast table, many
months after they have been put into the jars,
as the day on which they were laid. The
great secret of success in carrying out this
method is, no doubt, thoroughly to heat the aif
in the jars. The eggs will stand a better
chance of keeping if the paper in which they are
packed is previously baked and used warm.
Patent stoppered jars are not absolutely neoes-*
sary, any stopper answering which effectually
excludes the air.
A “Fret-Bureau.”—A very useful
though little known laboratory in Paris is thafl
devoted to anthropometry, as applied to the
identification of criminals. It is popularly called
the “feet-bureau.” ]n this laboratory every
criminal, when taken into custody, is submitted
to a thorough anthropometrical examination.
He is divested of all clothing, and the form and
dimensions of his head, face, fingers, feet, body,
etc., are accurately noted down, and his face is
photographed. There is alreadv a collection of
some sixty thousand photographs. These are
divided into three groups, according to the age
of the criminal. Each of these groups is sub->
divided into three classes, according to the
hight of the person. A further subdivision of
these classes is based upon the length of th®
head; and a final subdivision is governed by
the length of the feet—hence the name “feet
bureau.” By this arrangement -any desired
picture among the sixty thousand may be found
in a moment; and on the back oi it is a complete
record of the criminal’s past life, together with
an accurate description of him. The bureau is
very serviceable, the criminals being the only
ones who find any fault with its workings.
Rough on Emerson.—While Ralph
Waldo Emerson was on his way to
several years ago, he fell in with a man who was
altogether so sociable and chatty that an other
wise tedious journey was rendered as cheerful
as posfible. This man’s name was Sackett, and
he told Mr. Emerson that he resided iu San
Francisco. Mr. Sackett pointed out ail th©
points of interest along the wav, retailed a lot
of amusing anecdotes, and, best of all, was an
attentive listener. The natural consequence
was, that Mr. Emerson came to the conclusion
that Mr. Sackett was as charming a man as he
had ever met with, and it was in this positive
conviction that he accepted Mr. Sackett’s invi
tation to dine with him immediately upon their
arrival in San Francisco. The next morning
Mr. Emerson was well-nigh paralyzed to find in
all the local papers this starting personal no
tice : “Professor Ralph Waldo Emerson, the
eminent philosopher, scholar and poet, is in
our city ns the guest of Mr. J. Sackett, the well
known proprietor of the Bush street Dime Mu
seum. Matinees every half-hour; admission,
only ten cents. The double-headed calf and
the dog-faced boy this week I”
A Scientific Toy.—Two interesting
physical experiments are amusing French
scientific men. In the first, a lighted candle is
placed behind a bottle, and the latter is blown
upon with the breath from a distance of about a
toot. The meeting ot the air-currents set in
motion around the bottle quickly extinguishes
the tlame, though extinction would be impossi
ble if a flat board or sheet ot cardboard were
substituted ior the bottle, ior the second ex
periment two bottles are placed on a table, with
a space of half an inch between them. The
candle is set behind this space, and from th©
same distance as before, on the opposite side,
the breath is blown smartly against the flame.
Not only will the latter continue burning but it
will incline slightly toward the operator as if
through the effect of suction. This phenome
non, analogous to the first, is due to the fact
that a portion of the air cannot pass between
the bottles and is forced around them and back
toward the experimenter.
Inducing Sleep with Steady Noise*
—The English, Medical Journal suggests a sim
ple contrivance for inducing sleep by sound.
Its utility, to delicate persons especially, would
be undoubted. Call it the morphiometer, the
somni erant, or give it a French title, and chris
ten it the gardesomne, or sleep-preserver—a
name, by the way, that would truly designate
its object, for its real ob ect would not ne so
much to promote sleep as to insure the sleeper
against disturbance (the vulnerable side of
light sleepers), by placing a bulwark of sound
between him and the sudden shocks of extrane
ous noise. Let your sleep-preserver produce
| the drowsy, monotonous buzz of the humming
top—not so loud as to be heard in an adjoining
room, but loud enough to drown distant noises
when placed close to the bedside or hung oye?
the pillow.
A Lite-Saving Pony.—While Mrs/
Charles H. Pettit and her little daughter, aged
three years, were out in a small boat on Hig
gins Lake, in Michigan, on Sunday last, the
Qbild sprang into the and iu her efforts
to rddovOr tne child the mother upset the boat.
The water being deep, both would undoubtedly
have drowned had not their intelligent French
pony come to their rescue. Alarmed by th®
screams of the mother and by the commotion
which the two made in the water, the brave ani
mal swam boldly out to them, and when they
had taken a secure hold of his mane struggled,
back to shore.
Said to be a Fact.—A musician while
trying to compose a new waltz was very much
annoyed by the flies. He had composed about
halt the music and suddenly stopped, as th®
flies bothered him so that he could proceed no
further, and the air was driven irom his mind*
Resolved to rid himself of the nuisance, ho
took a sheet of blank music paper and placing
it upon a board and covering it with glue, ha
laid it on a chair in the sunlight and went out
for a walk. On his return he found that th©
flies had settled upon the glue on the bars for
the music in such a position as to form the notes
for the balance of his waltz—Fact.
The Queen and the Condemned Sol
dier. —A touching anecdote is told of the queen
soon alter she ascended the throne. One day
the Duke of Wellington brought her a military
death-warrant to sign. It had been decreed by
court-martial against a deserter. The queen
pleaded with the duke to say something in th®
condemned man’s favor, and, when be an
swered that, though the man was a bad soldier,
he had a good character in other respects, her
majesty exclaimed, “Ob, thank you !’and in
stantly wrote “ Pardoned ” across the warrant,
with her signature.
Diseases of Menagerie Animals.—
Heart-disease is an affection to which nine
tenths of the wild animals in confinement aro
subject. Among elephants the most common
and fatal of many diseases is rheumatism.
Mankeys and baboons generally die from bron
chial affections and heart diseases; felines,
such as lions, tigers, leopards, Ao., from dysen-,
tery and heart diseases; deer, antelope, Ac.,
sutler most from dysentery and heart diseases ;
while wolves, dingoes, foxes, and other caninea
seem to be subject to no particular disease.
A Youthful Inventor.—Julian F o
Denipon, of New Haven, Conn., has made an
important invention in electric lighting. His
device consists of an apparatus whereby burnt
out carious are automatically replaced as fast
as need be. By hie design ah electric light will
burn steadily lor ninety hours or more without
the need ot any attention. Mr. Denison is hard
ly more than a boy in years. and bis clever in-,
vention has created astonishment among those
who have examined it.
A poet sings “Two cords I struck,”
when :>e c.iiilit to have senu, •« Two cor is I sawed,**
Huy's tliu ili.. h-.stu.- //er-rb/.
What a Time
People formerly had, trying to swallow*
the old-fashioned pill with its film of
magnesia vainly disguising its bitter
ness ; and what a contrast to Ayer’s
Pills, that have been well called “med
icated sugar-plums” — the only fear be
ing that patients may be tempted into
taking too many at a dose. But the
directions are plain and sheuld be
strictly followed.
J. T. Teller, M. D., of Chittenango,
N. Y., expresses exactly what hundreds
have written at greater length. He
says: “ Ayer’s Cathartic Pills are highly
appreciated. They are perfect in form
and coating, and their effects are all
that the most careful physician could
desire. They have supplanted all ths
Pills formerly popular here, and I think
it must be long before any other can
be made that will at all compare with
them. Those who buy your pills get
full value for ther-r money.” I
“Safe, pleasant, and certain in
their action,” is the concise testimony
of Dr. George E. Walker, of Martins
ville, Virginia. 11
“ Ayer's Pilis outsell all similar prep
arations. The public having once used
them, will have no others.” — Bernj,
Venable & Collier, Atlanta, Ga.
Ayer’s Pi 18s, J
Prepared by Pr. J. C. Ayer & Co., Lowell,
Sold by all Dealers in