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By G. W. NORRIS. WATERTOWN, . WISCONSIN. .Bermuda provides beautiful roads for cyclists. The roadbeds are of coral, smooth as the floor of a bed room, and as clean as it is possible for any road to be. The delights of a, spin on one's bike in the neighbor hood of any city in these delig'htful isles are beyond comparison. Peter J. Carolus, judge of a St. Louis police court, suggests anew way of solving the tramp problem. He sug gests that all vagrants be sent to some lonely island in the Pacific, wdiere they would get strict military instruction for six months, after which they should be sent to chase Aguinaldo in the Philippine islands. Edmund A. Vogelsang, of Chicago, has received from his brother Otto a present of the most valuable pipe in the world. It is held to be worth no less than $16,000, considering the time spent in its construction, apart from its artistic and historical value. The pipe represents the labor of IS years of the life of Rev. Father Adolph Ebel. Advantages aepruing from a recent heavy rainfall in Western Texas have been largely offset by the fact that the unusual supply of moisture has greatly increased the growth of the loco weed. Many horses and cattle have died from eating this insidiously poisonous weed. Exactly what the el ement of poison in this weed is has never been fully determined. In setting and distributing type a compositor’s hand travels on an aver age of 11 miles a day. Leaving Sun days and holidays out of account, this means about 3,000 miles a year. More than half the deaths among compositors are due to lung diseases. In the course of his lifetime an aver age man gets through about 2,500 miles of reading matter. The Phited States once tried the half cent, in imitation of the cheap and nasty farthing of England. For more than half a century, from 1793 to 1357, it indulged itself in coining half cents to the magnificent aggre gate of 7,935,222, worth $39,926.11. Then having reached the age of dis cretion in small things, it put away such childish things as half cents and has never regretted it. Russian photographers who are un able to get a settlement from their sitters hang the pqrtraits of the lat ter upside down in the showcases be fore their studios. The significance of this position is, of course, under stood by the g-eneral public, ,and it is said that photographers’ debtors in many instances hasten to place themselves right again in the eyes of their fellow townsmen. In the New' Hebrides human life has been made safer by the introduc tion of pigs into the island. The can nibals are said to prefer roast pork to oast man, and as the porcine tribe increases among the natives they may give up their feasts on human flesh altogether, excepting when something unusual happens, such as entertaining a king of some other cannibal island ■or state occasions of rare c^emony. Twenty miles from the town of Bozeman, Idaho, is an establishment devoted entirely .to the raising of wild animals. The stock is mace up exclusively of the wildest, rarest and most ferocious creatures. This animal farm is owned and operated by Mr. Richard W. Rock, Who has spent all Ms life in the west. As trader, hun ter, scout and animal fancier he has been the hero of remarkable exploits. Thirty years ago he was a valued scout for Gens. Gibbon, Hayden and Howard. Mark Twain detests the autograph hunter. To an applicant on one oc casion he sent a letter, the substance of which is as follows: To ask a doc tor or builder or sculptor for his autograph would be in no way rude. To ask one of these for a specimen of his work, however, is quite an other thing, and the request might be justifiabl}' refused. It would never be fair to ask a doctor for one of his corpses. to % remember him by. There was no autograph to the letter, which was tpyewritten throughout. passengers Avho travel on the new 'Siberian railroad will find all the comforts of home on the cars. Jour neys may be long, but the trains will furnish libraries, pianos, barber shops, hot and cold water, and every possi ble convenience for their occupants. There will be physicians aboard and no cost will be made for medical attendance. Porters, who can speak all languages, and who, it may be un derstood, will not be averse to ac cepting tips, will also be on the trains. Any one with a sufficient amount of money can enjoy thor oughly the seven days’ trip from St. Petersburg to Irkutsk. Capt. of Quebec, has gained the support of Sir Clements Mark ham, president of the Royal Geograph ical society, for his scheme to reach the north pole, and hopes the British government will co-operate with the Canadian minister. His plans con template an expedition from Van couver, with a wooden or steel ship, a crew of six sailors and five scien tists. Entering the polar basin in August, a month earlier than Nan sen did, the ship would begin to drift :iOO miles farther east than Nansen’s vessel did. UKEITUSEDTB BE HRISTMAS like it W/ used to be! f M( M That’s the thins 'iy I would gladden me. % Kith and kin from far and near \J[ Joining in the Christ mas cheer. Oh, the laughing girls and boys! Oh, the feasting and the joys! "Wouldn’t it be good to see Christmas like it used to be? Christmas like it used to be— Snow a-benddng bush and tree. Bells a-jingling down the lane; Cousins John and Jim and Jane, Sue and Kate and all the rest Dressed-up in their Sunday best, Coming to that world of glee— Christmas like it used to be. Christmas like it used to be — Been a long, long time since we Wished (when Santa Claus should come,). You a doll and Ia drum, You a book and Ia sled Strong and swift and painted red; Oh that day of jubilee! Christmas like it used to be. Christmas like it used to be. It is still as glad and free, And as fair and full of truth, To the clearer eyes of youth. Could we gladly glimpse it through Eyes our children’s children do In their joy-time we would see Christmas like it used to be. —Nixon Waterman, in Elliott’s Maga zine. 4^ij^f\ V E R YCODY knew ■® =^ ar that old Mrs. Moon was “plumb set '’ against Tom White. They also knew that Tom was determined to marry Clarissy Moon. The views of Clarissy herself were locked in the breast of that maiden and no one. not even her grandmother, could draw them forth. She listened to the old lady’s diatribes against Tom, just as she listened to Tom’s ardent wooing and said nothing. Mrs. Moon, her unmarried daughter and Clarissy lived in a tiny cabin at the foot of the Little Backbone, a very pleasant place in summer, though that season was brief enough in a region which is described by its denizens as having “nine months win ter and three months cool weather’’ each year. In winter the cabin was not a pleasant, place of abode. Not only did the snow drift high about it, but the playful winds entered through the crevices which Mrs. Moon was al ways intending to have filled up and never did. It was lonely in winter, too; not even the most persistent suitor could find his way to it fre quently when the trail was obliter ated by snow drifts and when night came early and suddenly, too, in the shade of the mountains. Clarissy was thinking of these things, as she stood at the cabin door one afternoon in the middle of De cember. It was rather a cool place for meditations, but her Aunt Phoebe was on what her mother was wont to call a “high,” and any place was preferable to her immediate vicinity at such a time. Aunt Phoebe’s tem per, never very sweet, had ill with stood the strain of prolonged spinster hood, and she vented her maidenly disappointment on the nearest ob jects, her mother and Clarissjy who were quite innocent in the matter. “Seems if I cain’t please her, no how,” Clarissy was saying to herself, “I cain’t bear that air bothersome Tom White, but he’s bettern’ what she is, anyhow. Sposn’ I was t’ give him er sign t’ come ’n’ talk t’ me er while!” As she hesitated she heard Aunt Phoebe’s shrill tones still raised to danger pitch in the cabin. Draw ing off the red handkerchief which was knotted coquettishly about her dark hair, she ran down the path and drawing down a branch of the young oak which stood alone, she deftly tied the streamer to it. The handkerchief was Tom’s gift and he had begged her to use it as a signal whenever she desired his company. It was the first time she had made use of it, and as she tied it she was assuring herself that she “didn’t care er mite fer that great, awkward fellow,” but, in spite of that fact, her cheeks rivaled the handkerchief in color. Yielding to a sudden impulse she scurried into the cabin regardless of Aunt Phoebe’s tongue. “I’ll peek out’n the window an’ watch fer him,” she thought, “an’ I’ll let him cool his heels a bit waitin’, be fore I go out. Anyhow, I ain’t prom ised nothing by tying that handher cher up there.” Clarissy had the sharp ears of the mountaineer and soon she heard steps coming along the trail and finally into the clearing, but she never moved, save to see that her grandmother was dozing in the chimney corner and Aunt Phoebe absorbed with her quilt pieces. The latter had passed from the active to the passive stage of her ebullitions and was now sulking. The steps approached nearer and nearer. “Ef that old stupid ain’t cornin’ in yere, after all,” Clarissy thought. “Well, granny’ll send him off with a flea in his ear if he does, that’s alii” and she assumed an air of elaborate indifference. “Hello, thar!” called a masculine voice scarcely audible to Clarissy for the beating of her heart. She made ulo move and the call was repeated. “Ain’t y-e got no manners, t’ let company wait out there that a way,” her aunt said, sharply-, and poor Clar issy- went flying to the door. There stood, not Tom, but Amos Purdy-, a near neighbor, as neighbors go in a thinly settled country, and a widower of two months’ standing who had dropped in once or twice of late. He entered now- with a sheepish air which to anyone less preoccupied than Clarissy would have proved that he was on courting bent. He took a chair near the door and where he shut out Clarissy’s view of the win dow. “Bight cold day,” he ventured, ad dressing Aunt Phoebe. “Well, I guess y-e can’t ’xpect much else, w’ith Christmas only two weeks off.” was the ungracious reply-. “Yep, that’s so,” the visitor re sponded. Then he relapsed into an embarrassed silence, during which he, with apparent ifticonsciousness, stared Clarissy- out of countenance. “Ole Zeb White killed er bear last Chuesday,” was his next remark, still addressed to Aunt Phoebe. “Biggest one this year, he say-s. Them Whites is aw-ful liars, though, an’ I cain’t promise ef he tells th’ truth er not.” “Them Whites is a bad stock,” Mrs. Moon broke in, suddenly; “one of ’em filled our ole cow- full of shot when I was a gal, pretendin’ like he thought she was er bear. An’ all the satisfac tion pap got was puttin’ er load o’ shot into him, and pretendin’ like he thought he was er buck!” She chuck led at the remembrance. “That air Tom White’s goin’ t’ see Tiny- Koontz;” remarked the guest. “I seen ’em walkin’ last Sunday-. Reckon they’ 1 be gittin’ married soon. Seems s’f they’d be a lot of mar ryin’ round yere before long. Er man ain’ worth much nowadays ’nless he’s got a wife.” Clarissy had turned pale at the bit of news. She rose now, on pretense of getting more wood for the fire and went outside. Aunt Phoebe had sud denly become gracious and the sound of her voice followed the girl as she ran along the trail to the tree which held her token. “He ain’t goin’t’ think I want ’im;” she panted, he can go t’ his Tiny AND CAME FACE TO FACE WITH TOM. Koontz, cf he wants to. I don’t want ’im —great awkward thing!” She dashed away, a tear, as she did so, and saw that the handkerchief no longer fluttered from the branch. Nervously she searched the ground to see if the wind had carried it into a clump of bushes. But no handker chief was there! Tom had evidently come and gone, without trying to at tract her attention. “An’ he’s taken th’ handkercher t’ that air Tiny Koontz!” she said. Then, with head held high, she marched back, meeting Amos face to face, as he came down the path. “Mighty purty red cheeks ye got, Clarissy,” he remarked; “when I git er nother wife she's got t’ have red cheeks, I tell ye. Say, d’ye like red apples? I’ll fetch ye some when I come this here way agin; you look in that air holler stump, an’ ye’ll find ’em.” “I jest plum despise red apples, an’ I plum despise you. too, Amos Purdy.” And she fled to the cabin before the astonished guest had time to make re ply- To her surprise, Aunt Phoebe was in especially good humor. Her mother had been throwing out some very plain hints as to the intentions of Amos re garding herself, which chimed pleasant ly with her own ojnnions on the subject. She giggled mightily, and assured her mother that she “wouldn’t look at that ole silly, no. not fer nothing!” But she was mightily pleased, as anyone could see. In her anger against Tom, Clarissy forgot all about Amos and his red ap ples, and, indeed, she attached no im portance to the offer, anyhow. She, too. was very gay that evening, for she felt that her grandmother’s sharp eyes were on her, and she would have died rather than display her futile rage against her faithless lover. She as sured herself over and over again that she never cared a straw for Tom, but the fact that she had sent for him and that he had answered her signal only to carry off the present he had given her to take it to another rankled in her breast. Heavy snow fell the next day and a cold kept her close in the cabin for a week, Amos was the only visitor dur ing that time, and when he came he brought a substantial offering of ven ison and a brace of rabbits, gifts by no means tc be despised, and which Mrs. Moon received most graciousl3'. Aunt Phoebe’s e3'es shone, but she kept them on the ground in maidenly modesty and was very reserved and Co3' in her manner. It never occurred to either her mother or herself that Clarissy was the object of Amos’ evident intentions. “I plum got t’ have somebody t’ keep house fer me scon,” the guest re marked. “I ain’t much of a cook myself, an’ there’s lots o’ good meat spoilin’ at th’ cabin now fer want o’ a woman I’ look after it. I was er good husban’t’ my woman while she was livin’,” he concluded. “So 3-e was, Amos,” Mrs. Moon agreed, eagerl3'; “I always said so.” She was overjoyed at the idea of giving np her daughter; she thought delightedly of the quiet life she could lead with only Clarissy. “An’, now that air Tom White’s out’n th’ way, I’ll git t’ keep her a long time,” she reasoned, com placently, as she listened to the vis itor’s account of what he intended to do for his wife when he married again, “An’ talkin’ erbout marry in’; I guess Tom White an’ Tiny- Koontz’ll be gittiu’ married a Christmas. I seen her with a red hankercher he give her th’ las’ time I was over there,” he went on. It seemed to Clarissy that she would die as she sat there. It w-as bad enough to tell herself that Tom had given her handkerchief to Tiny, but to hear it as a certainty- was worse y-et. She made no sign, but when the talk had once more veered around to the apparently inexhaustible subject of Amos’ second wife she slipped softly out of the cabin and wandered about in the snow- like some w-ild thing with a mortal hurt. As she was returning an hour later she found Amos patiently- awaiting her at the hollow- tree. “I put a lot o’ nuts in there and some yellow apples,” he announced. “Ef ye don’t lik-e red apples ye inns’ like yel low- ones. Say-, Clarissy-, sposn’ you’n me git married a Chrismns, like what Tom White an’ Tilly- Koontz is goin’ t’ do!” Clarissy- never could remember right ly- what she said, but Amos construed her answer into consent, and, promis ing to come with the preacher at seven o’clock on Christmas evening, he went his way-. It was dark when Clarissy came into the cabin, and her grandmother and aunt were in such a state of excitement that they- failed to notice her pale cheeks and wild eyes. For they- had de cided that Amos certainly- meant to marry- Phoebe and that preparations had better be commenced at once. “Because widowers don’t want t’ wait er minute,” Mrs. Moon said, sagely; “they- makes up their minds quick, an’ they- expects other folks t’ do th’ same. I wouldn’t be a mite surprised to see ’im come in with th’ preacher a Christ mas, like what ole Sam Smith did when he got married th’ fourth time. Sairy shewasn’ ’xpectin’ ’em, but she thought she better take ’im when she could git ’im.” Nothing was said to Clarissy-, who was regarded as a child by her elders, and she, in her intense preoccupation, failed to notice that the preparations for Christmas were on a much more elaborate scale than usual. She was in a sort of a daze, sometimes determined to marry Amos in order to convince Tom that she cared nothing for him; at others, determined to die before she did such a thing. Fortunately- for her, Aunt Phoebe wanted a quantity- of ground pine and red berries with which to adorn the cabin, and as Clarissy knew the shel tered sp>ots where they were likely- to be found she was sent out in quest of them. In her anxiety to be alone she made the quest a prolonged one. Amos wisely absented himself from the cabin, a f act which puzzled Mrs. Moon and her daughter not a little. Clarissy- gave this fact not a thought; she was quite in ignorance of the fact that Amos w-as supposed to be the victim of her aunt’s bow- and spear, and w-as only thankful to have him out of the w-ay while she wrestled with her problem. All too soon, it was Christmas eve, and Clarissy w-ent forth for a last load of pine, with whidh the cabin was already gay. Late in the after noon, she sat down a moment with her load, still uxion the subject which never left her mind. She was in no hurry- to return home, for her aunt had gone to the store at the cross roads to make a few- pur chases and she knew- that her grand mother would be dozing and uncon scious of the flight of time. As she sat there, Clarissy let the big tears roll unchecked down her cheeks. It seemed to her now- that Tom had left her for another, he had become the one object for which she cared. “Well, I*ll take Amos;” she said, proudly, ‘‘an’ then nobody ’ll know Tom left me fer Tiny Koontz!” As she spoke, she rose from the stump on which she was sitting- and. came face to face with Tom —Tom pale and haggard, and with a gun over his shoulder, which added to the wild ness of his appearance. Clarissy trembled so that she could scarcely stand, but she put on a brave smile. “That you, Tom,” she said-, “I —I mus’ wish ye well, you ’n Tiny. When ye goin’ t’ git married—to-morrow?” Tom put down his gun. “Me ’n who?” he demanded, fiercely. Clarissy’s anger grew at the eva sion. “You ’n’ Tiny Koontz,” she re sponded. “Amos Purdy, he tole me how you ’n’ her was gem’ t’ get married to-morrow night.” “Amos Purdy tole ye that?” “Yes, he did; and ye needn’t to deny it —I don’t care!” All the girl’s fierce pride was in arms. “I—l only put th’ reds handkerchief on th’ tree that day because—” “Because ye wanted t* make er fool er me!” Tom cried, hotly. “Ye had took it down again ’fore I could git there, an’ ye give it t’ Amos Purdy; he showed it t’ me. An’ he tole me you V him was goin’ t’ get married a Christmas, an’ ye didn’ want no more sight o’ me! I on’y wish I’d had my gun that day, an’—” “Oh, Tom! Tom!” Clarissy and the ground pine were all tangled up in his arms, and Clarissy was crying for pure joy. “But I tell ye one thing, Clarissy,” Tom said, later, “that ole coon did see me with Tiny Koontz that day. I was giving her a message from Walt Thomas over at th’ -sawmill. Him ’n’ her’s goin’ to git married soon’s he gits back.” When Clariss3 r at last started for home Tom went with her to tell her grandmother that he meant to marry her granddaughter on the following day, with her consent or without it. “For I ain’ go in’ t’ take no more chances!” Tom affirmed. Luckily, Aunt Phoebe had not re turned when they reached the cabin, and the story was poured out to Mrs. Moon alone. Her dislike for Tom melted away before the idea of Clarissy’s marrying Amos, on whom Phoebe had set her heart, and leav ing her to bear the brunt of that damsel's rage. “Tell ye what you do,” she said, finally. “You ’n’ Tom git ready ’t git married to-morrow- night an’ jest leave Amos t’ me when he comes!” Tom stood out for a personal inter view- with Amos first, but he was overruled. Just what Mrs. Moon said to that w'orthy during the few min utes’ private talk they had no one ever knew*. She said it so convinc ingly, however, that there was a double wedding in the cabin that Christmas night, and Aunt Phoebe never knew- that she was second choice. —Eliza Armstrong, in Banner of Gold. Ontside. Fate delights in still contrasting All that comes to mortals here; Some may feast. The rest are fasting. For each smile there is a tear. There are shine and holly berry. There is hunger's tattered cloak. There is Christmas when you’re merry— And there’s Christmas when you’re broka. When the music, softly playing, Seems less tenderly to fall Than the laughter that comes straying Through the nursery and the hall, Who shall think that some poor fellow On the pavement stands-afar, Watching every gleam so mellow Through your window blind ajar? When all care is shut behind us And when love dispels each sigh, Let some gentle thought remind us Of the lonely passer-by. Life to some, though pleasant, very, Isn’t all a gladsome joke. There is Christmas when you’re merry— And there’s Christmas when you’re broke. —Washington Star. HOLIDAY REPARTEE. “Here, this isn’t the Christmas spirit —dunning me for money on Christmas day.” “Well, if you had the Christmas spirit you would pa3- me.” —Chicago Daily Record. A Beautiful Mother. I heard a ver3 r sweet stor3' the other day of some children who had earned their Christmas mon€3’, b3 r acting as caddies of golf players in their neigh borhood, says a writer in the Christian Intelligencer. The father found, a memorandum they had made of ex penditures they intended, and it ran as follows: “Mother, one dollar. “Father* 75 cents. “Sister Susan, 50 cents, etc.” “How- is this, Laddie?” said the fa ther. “Why do y-ou mean to spend a dol lar for your mother and onl3' 75 cents for me?” “Oh!” was the sufficient answer, “mother’s mother.” His Opinion. Papa—What is the matter -with th steam engine, Johnny? Johnny —I don’t know-; but it won’t go. Papa, I think Santa Claus got stuck on that steam engin®.—Puck, AMENDS THE TREATY. Senate Deals a Heavy Blow at the Hay-Pauncefote Nicarnguaa Canal Agreement. Washington, Dec. 14. —Behind locked doors the senate at three o’clock Thurs day afternoon by a vote of 65 to 17 de cided to amend the Hay-Pauncefote treat}' by inserting the additional sec tion reported last spring by the com mittee on foreign relations, which is popularly known as “the Davis amend ment.” The action is the most signifi cant taken by the senate in many years. It is at direct variance with the wishes of the administration and will have, in the opinion of most students of international law, an effect upon the Nicaragua canal project that may pre* rent its consummation. The Davis amendment is as follows: “Insert at end of Section V, of Article 2 the following: ‘lt is agreed, however.’that none of the immediately foregoing condi tions and stipulations in sections numbered one, two, three, four and five of this article shall apply to measures which the United States may find it necessary to take for se curing by its own forces the defense of the United States and the maintenance of pub lic order.’ ” This amendment, it is believed, will render the treaty objectionable to Great Britain. The senate in adopt- Washington, Dec. 15.—The senate committee on foreign relations Friday held a special meeting and decided to recommend further amendments to the Hay-Pauncefote treaty. The com mittee adopted an amendment sug gested by Senator Foraker, which de clares that the Hay-Pauncefote treaty supersedes the Clayton-Bulwer treat}' and also strikes out the Hay-Paunce fote agreement article 3, which per mits the submission of the Hay- Pauncefote treaty to other powers and invites their acceptance of it. AGREES TO TERMS. Emperor Ivwnng Hsu, of China, Said to Be Willing to Accede to Demands of Powers. Tientsin. Dec. 15. According to credible Chinese sources of informa tion, Emperor Kwang Hsu will agree to the following ten demands of the powers; “1. Indemnity to the amount of 700,000,000 taels, payable within 60 years, and guar anteed by the’ likin. “2. The erection in Peking of a suitable monument to the memory of Baron von Ketteler. “3. An imperial prince, a near relative to the emperor, to go to Berlin to apologize and express regret for Von Ketteler’s mur der. “4. Foreign troops to hold the lines of communication between Taku and Peking. “5. Punishment of the Boxer officials. “6. Candidates from districts where anti foreign outrages have been perpetrated not to be allowed to compete in the Chinese ex am’nations in Peking for five years l . “7. Abolition of the tsung-li-yamen. “8. Foreign envoys to have access to the emperor at all times. 4 “9. Importation of arms and ammunition into the province of Chili to be abolished. “10. The land and sea fcrts between Shan Hal Kwan, Taku and Peking to be de stroyed.” Washington. Dee. 14. —The latest ad vice from Peking, from official ; ources, is that England has signified a willing ness to sign the agreement reached by the foreign ministers with a slight amendment which is said to be rather in the nature of a mere change in form rather than an amendment to the scope of the agreement at any material point. It was the understanding that Operators Are Hopeful. Topeka, Ivan., Dec. 15. —Xo new' de velopments have come to light in the telegraphers’ strike. The telegra phers have established heaoquarters here with the chief officers of the Or der of Railway Telegraphers in charge and announce taat they will keep up the fight until they have won. Xot all the telegraphers on the division are out, but the officers say that they will be out before the operations go much farther. Xo great difficulty is experienced in the running of trains on the main line, though they rarely run just on time. Freight is not mov ing so rapidly as it was. General Man ager Muclge, of the Santa Fe, still ap pears to be very sanguine about the outcome. To Investigate Alleged Hazing, Washington, Dec. 12. —In the house of representatives Tuesday a resolu tion was adopted for the appointment of a special committee of five members to investigate the death of Oscar L. Booz, of Bristol. Pa., who died recently, it is alleg'ed, as a result of hazing re ceived. w'hile a cadet at West Point. This course was taken over the head of the military committee, which report ed in favor of allowing the war depart ment to conduct the inquiry, * Estate of Late Senator Davis. St. Paul, Minn., Dec. 13. —The will of the late Senator Cushman K. Davis, who died November 27, was filed for probate Wednesday by Mrs. Anna M. Davis, the widow". The will, which is very concise and was made during the senator’s list illness, leaves all his estate to Mrs. Davis and names the St. Paul Trust company as execu tor. The estate is valued at $25,000 in personal and $40,000 in real prop erty. Needs Much Money. Berlin, Dec. 12. —The Berliner Tage blatt, basing its calculations upon the figures of Baron von Thielman. secre tary of the imperial treasury, estimates that the empire needs in the way of loans 400,000.000 marks. Dnmagre by a Landslide. Christiania, Dec. 12. —Another seri ous landslide has occurred in Heligo land. Thirty houses have been en gulfed and a considerable part of-the island has been for three days under water. Thus far it has been mpossible to send relief and the losses have not yet been determined. Drowns Herself, Zanesville, 0., Dec. 15.—Miss Edna Brown, a young woman of the high est character and great popularity in exclusive circles of Zanesville society, drowned herself Thursday night in the Muskingum river.