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VOLUME II.
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GOOD-BY, good-by it is the sweetest blessing
That falls from mortal lips on mortal car.
The weakness of our human love confessing,
The promise that a love more strong is near
May G»d be with you I
Why do we say It when the tears are starting?
Why must a word so sweet bring only pain?
Our love seems nil-sufficient till the parting,
And then we feel it impotent and vain—
May God h« with you I
Oh, muy He gnide and bless and keep yon ever,
lie who IH strong to battle with your foes
Whoever fails, His love can fail yon never,
And all your need lie in. His wisdom knows—
May God be with you I
Better llian earthly presence, e'en the dearest,
Is the- great blessing that our partings bring
For in the loneliest moments God is nearest,
And from our sorrows heavenly comforts sprins'
If God be with us.
Good-by, good-by! with latest breath we say it,
A legacy of hope, and faith, and lo\
l'nrlmg must ome, we cannot lontr delay it.
But, one in llim, we hope to meet above,
If God be with us.
Good-by1 Mis all we have for one another.
Our love, more strong than death, is helpless
still,
For none can take the bnrden from his brother,
Or shield, except by prayer, from any ill—
May God be with you 1
—Sunday Magazine.
SOME IDEAS ABOUT THE MOON.
THODMI poets, perhaps, may not like it,
the veil ot mystery is torn from themorin.
It is at length disclosed to us to be a gvsat
burren waste ot rugged mountains and
cYtiuct volcanoes, the whole devoid of
air, water, vegetation, or animal life—a
rocky solitude going without intermis
sion drearily round the earth—for the
(tilth's, not for its own, advantage
The- mean distance at which the moon
makes these circuits is, as formerly men
tioned, 237,000 miles. Observed by pow
erful telescopes, its apparent distance is
brought within two or three hundred miles,
which distance affords a good outline ot
objects, but nothing can be distinguished
smaller-thai* what wHHmeasure a hun,
dred and fifty yards across. Among
astronomers there are hopes that, by en
larged telebcopic powers, we may bring
the moon as clearly before us as we can
sec Mont Blanc from Geneva with the
naked eye. As everyone knows, the
moon is visible by means of the light
winch is thiown upon it by the sun.
Moonligut may, therefore, be called sun
light at second-hand.
The moon, however, may sometimes be
seen by the sun's light being reflected
upon it irotn the earth. This earth-light
on the moon is seen in particular condi
tions of the atmosphere, within a day or
two aftei new moon. At such a time the
old moon, as people please to call it, is
said to lie in the new moon's arms—an
evil omen, as was once supposed the
light shining dimly on the body lying
within the bright crescent being nothing
else than earth shine, and no omen cither
good or bad.
Jiy receiving and reflecting the sun's
lays, the moon is obviously an opaque
sphere, which by best computation is
2,100 miles in diameter, or about a fourth
of that ot the earth. Rotating on its
axis it revolves round the earth in the
same measure of time, that is, twenty
seven days and a quarter. In other words,
its rotary motion is twenty-seven and a
half times slower than that of the earth.
In consequence of the rotary motion on
its axis and its revolution round the
earth coinciding, the moon always pre
sents the same side to us. The sun, how
ever, lights it upon both sides. At times,
we are able to see a little more than one
side—as much as lour sevenths of its sur
face—the attitude of the moon in relation
to the earth letting us, as it were, look
around the edge. This phenomenon,
which was tracedfby Galileo to its true
cause, is explained as follows by the writ
ers before us: The center of motion of
the moon being the center of the earth, it
is clear that an observer, on the surface of
the latter, looks down upon the rising
moon as from an eminence, and thus he
is enabled to see more or less over or
around her. As the moon increases in
altitude the line of sight gradually be
comes parallel to the line joining the ob
server and the center of the earth, and at
length he looks her full in the face he
loses the full view and catches another
side lace view as she nears the horizon in
setting." These changes in the point of
views have greatly facilitated the taking
ot pictorial photographs of the moon's
surface.
These photographs can, of course, be
executed only in a calm and clear atmos
phere when the moon is at the full, and
to wait for such opportunities great
patience is required. If all other circum
stances be favorable, the atmosphere is
partly cleared by the action of the moon,
lor its rays, though ordinarily described
519 cold—" the cold, chaste moon"—par
take in a small degree of the heat of sun
shine, and accordingly exert a dispersive
influence on the cloud*. A succession of
clear moonlight nights is known to farm
ers to have a ripening effect on grain.
Looked at even with the naked
eye, the moon is not a uniformly clear
body. It has dusky and light spots, sig
nifying that it has an irregular surface.
The dusky portions, which collectively
cover about two-thirds of the disc, were
at one time considered the seas, and such
they are sometimes still called. Close
examination by powerful telescopes shows
that these sea-like spaces are only plains,
on which there are comparatively few
prominences to reflect the sun's light.
The features of the moon's disc which
rivet attention are' prominences mostly in
the shape of circular craters of volcanoes,
some of vast dimensions, and many of a
small size. Besides these circular mark
ings, which, so to speak, give a pock
pitted appearance to the whole surface,
there are stretches of rugged and pictur
esquc mountains of great altitude, all
seemingly of volcanic origin. The circu
lar crater-form markings are diverse in
character. In some cases they appear as
if crowning mountain heaps of ashes and
cinders, in the manner of Etna and Vesu
vius in other instances, where the edges
of the craters do not rise high above the
plains, the volcanoes resemble prodigious
hollows, miles in breadth and depth
That the whole have at one time been in
volcanic action is obvious from the fact
that at the bottom of the craters are seen
the remains of the small, tapering cones
whence the lava and ashes were pro
jected.
The picture-map of the moon contained
in the work before us presents the outlines
of 228 craters, and, as these are only on
one side, we may conclude that there is
fully as great a number on the other—say
upward of 509 in all. The bulk of those
which are visible are near what we would
call the upper part of the moon, from
which the clustering becomes less dense,
but with several large craters here and
there,down to the lower limb. It may
not be generally known that, in course of
time, astronomers have given names to
the whole of the 228 craters above men
tioned, leaving many smaller ones (big
enough, perhaps, if we were at them)
without any name at all. The names as
signed have been those of men distin
guished in science and literature in an
cient and modern times such as Plato,
Pliny, Copernicus, Tycho, Linmeus, Mer
cator, Descartes, and so on. Even to the
seemingly flat spaces called seas there
are namea in Latin, as Mare Tranquillita
tis, Mare Nubium, etc. A range ot
mountains is named after the Apennines,
and another range is called the Caucasus.
In this way a proper map of the moon is
about*** full of names as a map of the
world.
About two-thirds down from the top of
the moon, and nearer the side opposite
our right th»n the middle, there is a pe
culiarly grand crater, finely rounded,
measuring forty-six miles in diameter,
and having sides rising to a height of
12,000 feet. There are wider and higher
craters, but none stands out so beautifully.
It is distinct to the naked eye, but is well
defined by telescopes of a small power.
In a clear moonlight night anyone
may have a eood view of it with
a field-glass. This volcano is named
Copernicus. Radiating from it are bright
streaks more than a hundred miles long,
which are thought to represent cracks or
chasms in the solid crust of the moon,
through which, at some terrible upheaval,
molten matter had been poured. Coper
nicus was evidently the center of a vast
amphitheater of volcanic action, for the
district around it is for a great distance
dotted over with small craters, which had
given relief to the internal disturbance.
Tychor standing in the midst of a crowded
grouD near the upper limb,-is also a mag
nificent crater, fifty-four miles in diameter,
with bright radiating streaks. Lower
down there are craters close on each
other, ot considerably greater dimensions,
one of them being upward of a bundled
miles across, alongside of which any vol
canic opening in the earth would be insig
nificant..
To have produced these phenomena the
moon must originally have been in a
molten state, or, at least, in a state of
intense heat, with a hardened crust. Prom
the prodigious number of craters, eruptive
forces had at one time raged throughout.
When they ceased, and the moon cooled
down into the cold mass it has now be
come, science does not explain. Nor are
we acquainted with the nature of the heat
that produced the volcanic action, further
than that it might be due to that concen
tration of nebulous matter that we spoke
of in relation to the sun. However it
may have come, it has long since radiated
off into space, to such an extent as to leave
the surface rigid and dead. We called
the earth a cooling cinder. The moon is
a cinder cooled, like a bit of dry slag
turned out of a furnace.
Devoid of water and air, the moon has
no moisture hovering about it, no clouds
it accordingly has no twilight. When the
sun sets upon it there is utter darkness.
There being no air to convey vibrations
there can be no sound. Eternal silence
reigns over its surface. With such priva
tions there is necessarily an absence of
animal life. There can be no inhabitants
where there is no food to eat, no water to
drink, no air to breathe. Were there any
inhabitants they would require to be
strangely constituted. On the earth cur
day of four-and-twenty hours affords us in
a general way twelve hours' light for or
dinary occupations, and twelve hours'
darkness, which we may appropriate for
nocturnal rest. As in the moon the length
of a day is a whole month, the people in
It, if there were any, would have alternate
ly a fortnight for work and a fortnight for
sleep. Their physical constitution, their
habits, would be all different from ours.
What a contrast between the condition ot
the earth and its sub-planet! Associated
together by an inexorable law, and both
partaking ot sunshine, one of the spheres
teems with life, has its grateful vicissi
tudes of atmospheric influence, and its
varying seasons the other naked and bare
of any trace of organization, with an alter
nation of glare and gloom never varying
in its dread monotony.
From all this one is naturally led to
speculate on the reasons for the moon's
existence. To what good purpose was a
spherical mass of volcanic rock sent
spinning round the world It would be
as presumptuous to say what were all the
objects of creation as to define positively
what was the Bpecial origin of the moon.
According to the cosmogony which we
sketched in speaking of the sun, the
earth, while yet a revolving globe of fire
mist, threw oft, or in cooling and con
tracting left behind it, a portion of its
own substance, which became the moon
just as the earth itself and the other
primary planets were left behxnd by the
shrinking of the central mass—the sun.
All this, however, is only more or less a
probable theory. Be this as it may, there
the moon is, a sub-planet, on which there
has been impressed a certain servile office
of a double and far from unimportant
purpose. Its first and most obvious use
is to give moonlight. This has been un
derstood from the earliest age and is duly
recorded in the Scripture narrative. The
more important, but less recognizable, of
its uses is to create the tides, and thereby
cause a continual and wholesome agita
tion in the waters of the ocean. Its dis
tance, its size, its density, are nicely ad
justed to produce this result. Were there
no moon, tides, except the comparatively
slight rise and fall produced by the sun,
would cease, and seas might suffer a de
gree of stagnation detrimental to human
life. While influencing the ocean by its
powers of attraction, and even in some
degree affecting great inland fresh water
seas like Lake Ontario, the moon is now
understood to exert no physical influence
on the mental condition of man or beast.
The term lunatic might very properly be
dropped. Whether the moons pertaining
to some of the other planets—J upiter hav
ing four, and Saturn being provided with
eight—play the same part regarding tides
as the earth's satellite, we need not here
inquire. Our own single moon is clearly
a valuable appendage, and let us be thank
ful for its gratuitous and beneficial ser
vices.—Chambers1 Journal.
—The total value of dry goods imported
iuto New York during the month of April
amounted to $8,505,351. As compared
with corresponding periods in former
years there is a decline of $94,480 in com
parison with April, 1873 of $2,726,356 as
compared with 1872, and of $2,557,108 in
1871. The total importations of dry
goods during the first four months of the
present year amounted to $43,421,942
against $53,193,501 in the corresponding
period last year $63,110,203 in 1872, and
$53,255,381 in 1871.
A Congressional Romance.
There is romance enough about the
late marriage of the Hon. Omar D. Con
ger, of Michigan, and Mrs. Sibley to fit
out a half-dozen younger couples. By
the side of it the Orant-Sartoris affair
sinks into insignificance. There was
Conger, who twenty-seven years ago was
a poor lad in Milan, Ohio, struggling
with algebraic problems and cube roots
in the Huron Institute. But, notwith
standing he grappled so bravely with
these tough and tiresome studies, he had
a susceptible heart, and so, when his eyes
fell upon the beautiful Miss Humphreys,
then a-reigning belle in that partof Ohio,
he hauled down his colors at once, and
surrendered unconditionally. The voung
lady was interested, and encouraged him.
In a short time they were engaged and
happy. But dark clouds will come, and
sometimes they get between two hearts
and so obscure the vision that neither
can discern the other. So it was here.
In those days young ladies were given to
a queer pastime called flirting, happily
done away with in these better times.
Miss Humphreys was addicted to this
kind of amusement, and she followed it
faithfully, notwithstanding her engage
ment. Mr. Conger objected, a quarrel en
sued, and the match was broken off.
Afterward it was renewed, but the
young man protested once more
at the conduct of his fiancee, and they
finally cried quits for good. In the full
belief, no doubt, that his life was blasted,
and that he had nothing to hope for ex
cept an «arly death, Mr. Conger rushed
out into the^wilderness with a surveying
party, and for three .years carried the
chain In the mineral regions of Lake Su
perior. Then he wandered 'to" Port Hu
ron, Mich., and, astonished to find that
he still lived, concluded to settle down to
the practice of the law. He did so, and
succeeded. Not long after, he felt anew
the touch of Cupid, and soon surrendered
himself a second time to anew love, and
was married. In the meantime Miss
Humphreys had also found another on
whom to bestow her-affections and had
married Maj. Sibley, of the United
States army. After this theyoung people,
who had until now watched each other's
movements, lost sight of each other alto
gether. Mr. Conger rose in his practice,
was elected Judge, State Senator, and
finally, in 1868, was elected to Congress,
where he has since remained. A few
years after his marriage his wife died,
and he did not marry again, but devoted
himself to his children. This, in brief, is
Mr. Conger's history.
Mis. Sibley had gone out upon the
ocean of life in a different direction and
had become an accomplished lady
society. Twelve years after her marriage
her husband died. Childless and lonely
the widow left for Europe, and after a
lengthy stay upon the Continent returned
a short time ago, landing at New York.
She was preparing to proceed to her old
home in Ohio, when she took a strange
fancy to visit Washington. She went, and
for several days amused herself in ram
bles about the capital. One day she was
sitting listlessly in the House gallery,
watching the restless swaying of political
wisdom on the floor, when a member on
the left of the Speaker arose and ad
dressed the House. Through all the con
fusion, the clapping of hands and mur
mur of hundreds of voices, the words of
the speaker came clear and distinct to
her. There was something in the tones
strangely familiar, and they came as if
reminding her of a dream long since for
gotten. Then she gained a view of the
speaker, and started as she recognized his
features. After all these long years, there
she was gazing upon the face and
listening to the voice of him who had
become as one dead to her. It was a
strange experience, but it brought her no
comfort. She had heard that Mr. Con
ger was married years ago, and to see
•him now again could bring little eise
than painful recollections. She would
depart and make no sign. But this was
not to be. Mr. Conger had heard that
Mrs. Sibley was in Washington, and it
was not long before he recognized her in
the gallery. He disappeared from the
floor, and while she was revolving the
queer circumstances that brought them
once more under the same roof she felt
a light touch upon her arm, and looking
up beheld him before her. Their hearty
greetings over, both became embarrassed.
Each tried to appear altogether oblivious
of the past, and each most signally failed.
To add a little poetry—
We cannot kill the past somehow
We cannot shut the door
That hangs between what we are now
And what we w^ire before.
The rest shall not be known,
Except that with a weary tread
We walk onr ways alone.
At last Mrs. Sibley rose to go. She would
be glad to see Mr. Conger at the Arling
ton, and also his wife and family. She
supposed they were with him, of course.
Then came the explanation, and Mr.
Conger promised to call on one condi
tion. Name it," said the lady. That
you take back what you uttered twenty
seven years ago," replied he. I take it
back," she faltered, and then skooted"
out of the gallery, as Gen. Sherman
would say, to hide the happy tears that
sprung to her eyes as she said it. And
then Mr. Conger went back to his seat
with a wonderful flow of spirits, and
looking as if his fifty-and-five years were
but five-and-twenty. The other clay there
was a quiet, happy wedding in Washing
ton, and Mrs. Sibley and Mr. Conger
played the principal* characters.
So ends the story, and it is a pretty
good one, notwithstanding it i3 true.—
Chicago Inter-Ocean.
Two Dog Stories.
CArT. MURRAY, residing on the corner
of Pine and Third streets, in this city, is
the owner of a dog and cow, between
whom there has, for a considerable length
of time, existed the strongest conceivable
attachment-. About two years since this
attachment was first noticed, and time
has only served to increase the love of
these two dumb creatures, who, it may
be truly said, are now inseparable. The
cow is followed to the' swamps by her
faithful companion in the morning, and
by her side, wherever she goes, he can
always be found. At night he sleeps
under the same shelter, and is never from
the cow a moment except when the want
of food absolutely drives him away, and
then, so we are informed, he does not
allow himself to remain sufficiently long
to satisfy the demands of hunger. The
cow appears to be as devoted to hei
canine follower, for, when he is out of
her sight for the shortest possible time,
she will manifest great uneasiness, and
signal him until he returns.—Macon (Chi.)
Star.
A wine merchant in the Montmartre
quarter began to open his shop yesterday
morning, and was taking the shutters
A N I N E E N E N N E W S A E
WORTHINGTON, NOBLES CO., MINN., SATURDAY, JUNE 13, 1874.
Into the cellar, when the barking of his
dog attracted his attention, He went
back quickly, but saw no one
but the intelligent animal sprang
upon the counter and began to
scratch above the till. On opening it,
while the dog continued to sniff and
smell about it, growling at times, it was
found empty. The dog seemed to strike
the scent, and, following it to the door
paused to invite his master to come on.
He did so, and after going a short dis
tance, as if upon the scent of a hare, the
animal led up to two individuals and be
gan to bark loudly. These must be the
thieves," thought the merchant. He
went toward them, calling upon a man
near by to help him, and this individual
happened to be an agent of police in cit
izen's dress. Seeing "that they were pur
sued the two men fled. The dog kept
snapping at their heels, and, thanks to his
atd, one of them was caught. The other
disappeared at the Rue Montorgueil.
Seek," cried the master, urging on the
dog, and the animal once more caught up
the scent. While the master, assisted by a
person called in for the minute, held the
thief, the agent followed the dog and
came up to him barking at the door of a
house. The agent went upstairs, guided
by the dog, and found the second thief
hidden behind the door of a room on the
second story. A portion of the money
taken from the till was found upon the
man thus curiously caught by the aid of
an intelligent dog.—Paris Cor. N. T.
Times.
A Modest Hero.
You had better take better care of that
young one." This was the modest remark
of Engineer Jacn Evans, of the Chicago,
Burlington & Quincy Railway, as he
handed the child he had saved back to its
mother and mounted his engine to move
ahead. Our readers must not forget the
circumstance. Jack saw the child tod
dling along on the track, just ahead of his
train, and comprehended instantly that it
was too late to stop the engine before he
reached it. So he did as manly and as
brave an act as was ever performed by
any hero. He reversed his engine, ran
out on the guard as nimbly as a cat, and
when close to the child jumped, caught
it in his arms and threw himself side
ways from the track. The pilot struck
him and whirled him twelve or fifteen
feet down the bank, bruising him consid
erably, but he saved the baby's life and
handed it back to its mother with the
remark at the head of this article. It is
strange of what stuff heroes are made,
after all. Here's a quiet, humble man,
going about his daily work without a
thought of being made of different metal
from his fellows. He is not an orator, a
poet, nor a professor. He never was tried
for heresy, or accused of writing a book.
He probably hasn't got any theology, and
when it comes to treatises on man or
essays on political economy, Jack will
tell you at once that he knows nothing
about them. We dare say he is totally un
acquainted with Homer, absolutely unin
formed about Hume, and probably
never heard of Richard Grant White or
David Preiderich Strauss. And yet who
shall deny that Jack is a braver man and
a greater than any of them He never
dreamt it his friends never thought of
such a thing to himself and all about
him he was a very ordinary man, getting
through the world as comfortably as
hard work and small pay would permit,
but satisfied with a very low seat in the
human tabernacle and yet the occasion
comes, and Jack freely and without a mo
ment's hesitation walks bravely out and
risks his life to save a very small speci
men of humanity, who by no possible
contingency can ever repay the debt.
There are no huzzas, no salvos of artillery,
no grand anthems over this act of devo
tion. Nothing is heard but the sobs of
the frightened and grateful mother and
the curt remark of Jack, You'd better
take better care of that young one." Then
he goes on and never knows how great an
act he has performed till the telegraph
takes up the story and the newspapers
give it to the world.
Such a man asks no reward, but he
should have it, nevertheless, and we hope
the company which employs him and
the public which appreciates and ad
mires a brave deed will take measures to
show their admiration. Meantime, here
is another chance for a poem, and we
wait, as in the case of the Mill Creek dis
aster, for some one to put the incident
into readable verse.—Chicago Inter Ocean.
The Vulgar Display of Jewels.
ARE we a nation of pawnbrokers or
jewelers? We must be one or the other,
or wherefore the quantity of diamonds
that are worn by women and children? I
have no fault to find with the middle-aged
lady who adorns herself with the family
jewels on full-dress occasions but good
taste is outraged at the sight of a girl of
fifteen wearing as many diamonds as
would ransom a King. Not long ago I
met a little child who could not have been
over five years old, out walking with her
nurse, and from her ears hung immense
solitaire diamonds. It is no uncommon
thing to see school-girls from the ages of
ten to eighteen wearing diamonds on their
fingers and in their ears. A young girl
does not think her toilet complete with
out diamond earrings and at least a dia
mond ring. Then, as she gets richer,
come hair ornaments and crosses and
lockets made of the precious stones.
Necklaces of diamonds are rare in this
country, and are not often seen off the
stage. The Countess of Caithness, who
visited this country some time ago, was
the wonder and admiration of all New
York when she appeared in her box at the
opera flashing in $800,000 worth of dia
monds. But then her diamonds had been
handed down from generation to genera
tion of very rich ancestors, and were only
second to those of royalty. In European
countries it is not until a woman has at
tained to years of maturity that she wears
diamonds, and even then not unless she
is very tich. In this country not one is
too young to wear them, and, I was going
to say, no one too poor, for I have often
seen women who live in small houses, up
back streets, appear at church or the
opera glittering in diamonds. A lady of
my acquaintance, when she gets up in tne
morning, puts on a calico wrapper, but
that does not prevent her arraying herself
in diamond earrings, breastpin and finger
rings, with which adornment she per
forms her household task.—New York
Letter in Boston Gazette.
A FORT DODGE (Iowa) man lived in
this world of sin and deceit sixty long
years before he found out that a stranger
on a railway train, borrowing on the se
curity of a bogus check for an immense
amount, is a snare, a delusion, a fraud.
He will never see his $80 or the gentle
man he loaned it to again.
CURRENT ITEMS.
A ST. LOUIS cat bit a boy and he is mad
—the boy is.
BLACK satin fans trimmed with white
lace are something new.
A FOOLISH lady sent a bride a white
satin pen-wiper as a gift.
READING, Pa., is catching dogs and
measles with equal alacrity.
GRAY hairs seem like the light of a soft
moon, silvering over the evening of life.
STIFF, straight hair and beard indicate
a coarse, strong, rigid, straightforward
character.
DON PIATT says: Humor is to a news
paper what a tail is to a kite—very ab
surd, but very necessary to its ascen
sion."
WASHINGTON TERRITORY is agitated by
the Oriental magnificence of the first
brick residence" ever erected within its
boundaries.
HENRY WARD BEECHER says collecting
autographs is an alarming literary intem
perance, for which the only remedy is
total abstinence.
THE legislator who wanted to make
kissing a misdemeanor probably never
had the pleasure of seeing amiss demean
herself under the operation.
IF women would study housekeeping
as theirhusbands study law, medicine and
book-keeping, there would be less com
plaint of bad servants.
IT is said that the essential oil in onions
is so powerful that if a man were to die
shortly after eating one his brain would
exhale the odor of the vegetable.
MRS. SEBA SPICER, «f Tipton, Mo.,
aged seventy-eight, recently employed a
mason to repair her chimney, and herself
carried all the mortar and brick up a
ladder.
THE English sparrows which were in
troduced into Albany five or six years ago
have become so numerous and annoying
that they are pronounced to be an unmit
igated nuisariv.
POUGHKEEPSIE, N Y., has a stone
yard, and requires each tramp soliciting
alms to earn his food and lodging by
breaking stone. Applications for charity
have fallen off.
A FISH-FARMER in Illinois gets seventy
five cents per pound for his trout thus a
small stiing of fish will bring as much as
a sheep, and they require neither grain,
hay nor stabling.
THE snow-fence on the Kansas Pacific
is being taken down for the purpose of
saving it from the fire which passes over
the prairies every summer. It will be re
placed in the fall, as usual.
IN San Francisco, Judge Louderbach
has just fined a man $60 for insulting an
editor. This goes to show that however
loud you may talk to a California journal
ist he can always talk louder back.
A DETROIT gentleman prides himself
on his fine fowls, and his neighbor is
equally vain of a fine coach dog. The
dog worries the life out of the chickens.
A few days ago the owner of the dog re
ceived the following note: "Friend—
You keep dogs. I keep chickens. If
my chickens worry your dogs, shoot
'em."
WHEN fuel is burned in an open fire
place at least seven-eighths of the actual
or potential heat passes up the chimney
unused about one-half being carried oft
with the smoke, and ono-fourth with the
current which flows in between the man
tel-piece and the fire, while the remaining
loss is represented by the unburned car
bonaceous matter in the smoke.
A MAN about thirty-five years old died
recently in Kentucky who, since the
termination of the war, has been making
tri-weekly pilgrimages between two
churches ten miles apart, always making
the journey on foot, fasting with great
severity, and keeping silence during the
whole of his long walk. He would never
disclose whether the penance was self
imposed or what it was performed for.
A LITTLE girl who fell off Long Bridge
and nearly drowned was rescued by a
young man. It is consoling to think that
as the child is only five years of age the
usual denouement maybe averted, but we
advise the young man to emigrate, or
she will go for him as soon as she is old
enough, and girls do grow so fast in this
country.—San Francisco News Letter.
HARRY H. BAUGH, of Quebec, fourteen
years old, fell desperately in love with a
little performer in a variety show several
months ago, and ever since has been fol
lowing it about, though the girl won't
pay any attention to him. He is quite
penniless, and has begged his way about
the country, but finally brings up at
Taunton, Mass., where he has been hand
ed over to the Board of State Charities.
A KENTUCKY Grange has had its little
romance. Recently a young brother and
sister of the Order walked to the front of
the Master and were united in marriage.
The entire audience were taken by sur
prise, having had no intimation that
there was to be a wedding. Soft eyes
began to dart love glances around the
Grange, and diffident bachelors exclaimed
that the new Order exceeded their most
sanguine expectations, in providing life
partners for the faint-hearted.
A WASHINGTON man proposes that a
suitable-sized cannon be kept at all
dangerous river reservoirs or dams, to
give instant and general warning of
breakage, by which, as in the recent
calamity in Massachusetts, many lives
and much property might be saved. The
trouble, says an exchange, is that when
the moment came for the cannon to be
exploded it would be found to be loaded
with black sand, duly certified to as the
best powder by a County Commissioner.
A CHICAGO telegrapher, on a recent
visit to Des Moines, wished to compli
ment one of the young ladies of that city
by sending her a box of oranges. The
oranges were purchased and carefully
boxed, and a messenger employed to de
liver the gift, bearing the note expressing
the wish that the lady might always be as
blooming and sweet as the inclosed fruit.
But some wag stopped the messenger and
substituted potatoes for the oranges ana
sent the bearer on his way. A terrible
row was kicked up, and the box duly re
turned to the sender.
A RECENT letter from Sargent, Kan.,
to the Topeka Commonwealth contains the
following: "Large numbers of wild
horses abound on the rivers. They are of
all sizes and colors, and are the wildest of
all wild animals. They usually roam in
bandB of from six to twenty, and will run
at sight of a man two miles away. A great
many domesticated horses, as well as
mules, which have strayed away from
their owners have taken up with the wild
ones. After running with them for
awhile they become as wild as their un
tamed companions. Various methods
have been adopted to catch them, but
have generally proved fruitless. A scrub*
by colt or a broken-down mule is, as a
general thing, the only reward for all the
time and labor. Settlers on the frontier
would hail their speedy extinction as a
blessing, for wken domestic animals get
with them their recovery is simply out of
the question.»
A MARRIAGE was recently solemnized
telegraph, and now the news of a
wedding ceremony performed in a barn
yard comes from New Hampshire. A
young lady living at Flatbrookville, in
that State, fell in love with one of her
neighbors, a young man, and he recipro
cated the passion. Desiring to eet mar
ried, they notified the 'Squiro, and he con
sented to "splice" them. Shortly after
he arrival of the 'Squire the mother of
the expectant bride, who had been absent
from home, returned and discovered the
situation. She objected with a piece ot
board, and proceeded to belabor the
parties concerned. The groom went one
way, the 'Squire escaped in another di
rection, and the blushing bride fled to the
garret. Later in the day the lovers were
seen together, and the result of the stolen
interview was that early the next morning
they presented themselves before the
'Squire in his barn-yard. He asked them
to go to the house, but they declined, stat
ing that the bride's mother was on the
war-path and in hot pursuit of the flying
pair. Without further delay the twain
were made one, the only witnesses to the
ceremony being the wondering cattle that
surrounded them, silently chewing their
cuds.
Alligators as Pets.
THE New York Times has an article on
household pets, in which it playfully and
somewhat sarcastically suggests pet alli
gators as a variety for the house.
Now, absurd as the alligator may seem
for a pet, it so happens that we once had
some of them, and very pleasant little
pets they proved to be. It was during a
residence, some years ago, in a Southern
city, not far from the bayous, where alli
gators, great and small, are to be had by
the hundred thousand. Instead of going
in person to catch the little fellows, we
secured the services of an aged American
citizen of African descent, who knew
more than we did about keeping out of
the way of the parent alligators. He
scooped up a dozen or two baby 'gators
and brought them in, his face ornamented
with abroad grin of delight in anticipa
tion of the dollar he had been promised
for catching them.
For several months a number of these
lively little fellows occupied a neat aqua
rium tank in the library window, where
the sun shone on them. They were as
lively as little cats, and quite as playful.
Equally happy in the water and out of it,
hey would frisk about like so many
monkeys when they felt so disposed, and
when they felt lazy (for alligators, like
otherfolks, are subject to attacks of lazi
ness) they would stretch themselves out,
or lie in a heap, one on the other, and
bask in the sunshine. They had a habit
of eating almost any eatable thing that
was given to them, their principal luxury
being live flies. In catching these insects
they exhibited great dexterity. Large
beetle cockroaches also afforded them
much pleasure. There was an abundance
of these in the house and the alligators
considerably reduced the stock. These
alligators were in their first summer, and
were only a few inches long. They would
run over people's hands and clothes, and
climb upon shoulders with great liveli
ness. We gave some of them away, and
the rest, probably pampered by petting
and overfeeding, died.
We once owned an alligator which
was six feet long. But he frightened an
old lady out of her wits, and so we gave
him away. He was too large for a pet.
But in their first or second year 'gators
are pleasant pets and no more dangerous
than kittens —Christian at Work.
An Unfortunate Ghost.
IT is strange what risks some men will
incur just for the sake of a little amuse
ment. A case in point is that of Mr.
Bangs, who thought to have a little pri
vate fun at the expense of his wife the
other evening. He has not fully recov
ered from the effects of that fun yet. He
was aware that Mrs. B. never used a light
when she went down cellar after dark,
and he determined to take advantage of
her oversight to carry out his own plans.
Accordingly he arranged himself in a
sheet and a tall hat, went down cellar
and took his-position in the darkest cor
ner. He had scarcely completed these
arrangements when Airs. B. appeared,
carrying a broom, as Bangs soon after
ward learned.
She halted immediately in front of
Bangs, and appeared to be regarding him
with some interest, when Bangs, think
ing this as favorable an opportunity as he
would get, slowly raised himself on end
and uttered what he considered a very
unearthly groan. Mrs. B. didn't faint,
nor shriek, nor go into hysterics, as he
had confidently expected. On the con
trary she merely poised her broom for a
moment in mid air, then let it descend on
Bangs' head with a force that nearly cap
sized him. At first Bangs thought that
he had suddenly died and been landed
among the stars, from the immense number
of them he saw shooting about through
space but a few more well-directed blows
from Mrs. B.'s broom soon recalled him
from the contemplation of this lofty theme
to things of a more earthly nature. He
immediately gave up all idea of making
any further attempts to frighten the wife
of his bosom, and set about demonstrat
ing the utter impossibility of dodging a
broom-stick in the hands of an earnest
and excited woman.
When the family next door got there
Bangs was performing circles around the
house at the rate of a mile a minute, and
endeavoring to allay the irritation in his
head by friction with his hands. This
was about the time that Bangs had ex
pected to be splitting his sides with
laughter, but he found it impossible to
even smile now under the circumstances.
Mrs. B. pmerged from the cellar triumph
antly waving about half afoot of the bald
end of a broom-handle, and weeping be
cause there were no more Bangs to
broom.
It took two new dresses and twenty
yards of ribbon to 'convince her that
Bangs didn't mean to frighten her, but
he has failed so far to explain the pres
ence of the sheet and tall hat to her entire
satisfaction. Bangs has employed the ser
vices of his physician by the month to
put the necessary repairs on his face and
head.—John Oliver, in Banbury News.
THIS is said to be a remedy for cab
bage-worms: Shorts and bran sprinkled
over the cabbage.
—-The total^Grange membership in the
United States is estimated at 1,250,000.
ft.
n.i'
NUMBER 40.
Thea-Tea.
THE tea plant grows from three to six
feet, having numerous branches and a
denre foliage. The wood is hard and
tough, the leaves smooth and shining, of
a dark-green color. The plant flowers
early in the spring, remaining in bloom
about a month, its seeds ripening in De
cember. The leaves are first gathered
from the plant at three years old. The
plant reaches its maximum size about the
seventh year, and thrives, according to
care bestowed upon it, from ten to twenty
years. There are two great varieties of
the plant, viz.: Thea Bohea (black tea),
and Thea Vividis (green tea), though
both black and green tea are manufac
tured from either bush the quality /of
the soil, the state of the leaf, the degree
of heat applied in its curing, and the
method of manipulation producing all
the differences perceived in the cured teas
of commerce.
Appreciating, then, the degrees of deli
cacy that may arise from the different
periods of gathering the leaf—from the
just-opening leaf to its maturity—we will
look at the modus operandi of preparing
the leaf for market.
For black tea, the leaves after being
gathered are spread out to the air
tor several hours, and are tossed about
until they become flaccid, then put in
large pans on steady tires and roasted five
minutes, then rolled by hand, then ex
posed to the air in their soft and flaccid
state, and, lastly, dried slowly over char
coal fires until their black color is fairly
brought out and fixed.
For green teas, the leaves are subjected
to the roasting process immediately after
been gathered after five minutes they be
come flaccid, then are rolled by hand,
then returned to the roasting-pans and
kept in motion over the fires for about one
hour, when they become well dried and
have their green color.
The dark hue of the black tea is due to
the exposure to the air oxygen on the
leaf juices. The Chinebe give a peculiar
metallic luster to the giecn teas by an ar
tificial coloring of indigo or gypsum in
small, innoxious quantities. This is to
give force" for the foreign market.
In order to impart the delicate flavor of
the finest teas to the commoner sorts, the
Chinese scent both green and black teas.
For black teas, sprinkling with the chu
can (chloranthus) flowers just before the
last firing of the leaf.
For green teas, placing alternate layers
of the leaves and fresh flowers until a
basket is full, covering the basket and
letting it remain twenty-four hours, then
firing it in a lined sieve, and sifting the
flowers out before packing for market.
Frequently these highly flavored teas
are mixed with plain teas to impart a del
icate flavor, say about one catty (one and
one-third pounds) to ten catties of the plain
tea. The cultivation of the flower for
scenting teas is a branch of agriculture of
considerable importance.
The tea plant is cultivated in all the
Chinese provinces south of the Hoanjrho
—"Yellow River." The "Bohea hills"
and the "Sungho hills" are celebrated
localities, as producing the finest black
and green teas of commerce.
Such, in brief, is an accurate account of
that delicious leaf from which a little
boiling water ever evokes a spirit potent
to soothe and smootn most ills that mind
is heir to.—Geo. Rodycrs, in Chicago Jour
nal.
A Bee-Story.
THE following illustration of the power
possessed by insects to communicate
their experiences to one another is given
by a lady correspondent of the London
Spectator: I was staj ing in the house of
a gentleman who was fond of trying ex
periments and who was a bee-kcepcr.
Having read in some book on bees that
the best and most humane way of taking
the honey without destroying the bees
was to immerse the hive for a few min
utes in a tub of cold water, when the bees,
half drowned, could not sting, while the
honey was uninjured, since the water
could not penetrate the closely-waxed
cells, he resolved on trying the plan. I
saw the experiment tried. The bees, ac
cording to the recipe, were fished out ot
the water after the hive had been im
mersed a few minutes, and, with those
remaining in the hive, laid on a sieve in
the sun to dry but as, by bad manage
ment, the experiment had been tried too
late in the day, as the sun was going
down, they were removed into the kitchen,
to the great indignation of the cook, on
whom they revenged their suflerings as
soon as the warm rays of the fire before
which they were placed had revived
them. As she insisted on their being
taken awav, they were put back into
their old hive, which had been dried, to
gether with a portion of their honey, and
placed on one of the shelves of the apiary,
in which were five or six other strong
hives full of bees, and left for the night.
Early the next morning my friefl^lfwent
to look at the hive on which he experi
mented the night before, but to his amaze
ment not only the bees fiom that hive
were gone but the other hives were all
deserted—not a bee remained in any of
them. The half drowned bees must,
therefore, in some way or other have
made the other bees understand the fate
which awaited them."
An Absent-Minded Minister.
A FUNNY mistake occurred the other
day through the forgetfulness of a distin
guished clergyman of this city. The
cards were out for a wedding to take
place at his church. The day, the hour,
the bridal party arrived the church was
filled with invited guests, but the officiat
ing clergyman was nowhere to be seen.
The impatient bride and groom waited
for hall an hour the bride began to feel a
superstitious dread of she knew not
what the groom, strong minded, only
felt annoyance. What was to be done
Patience had ceased to be a virtue. At
last a clergyman of another denomina
tion, who was sitting among the guests,
was observed. He was sent for, and
kindly consented to perform the cere
mony. The knot was tied to the satisfac
tion of all parties, and the fee handed
over to the minister who had proved such
a benefactor. The money, however, he
sent to the clergyman who was to have
performed the ceremony, with a note:
'This is an egg I found in your nest. As
Ididn't cackle-ate upon it, I send it back
to you." The reason of the absence ot
the engaged clergyman was a very sim
ple one—he had forgotten all about the
appointment.—New York Lttter.
••-•--».
ALL dresses continue to be made gored,
short in front and just sufficiently long
behind to touch the ground.
—London disposes of 130,000 bushels of
cinders yearly.