Y, JANUARY 3, 1893,
n! Holly •» foHovt:
—.30, 7.40,8.80, 10.00, u.ao
>. 4.30.JkS), 6.10. 6.30, 8.00,
.-tv im uu nutty a, a. —
(few York, viaTrentonand Burlington
_ 100.9.30 A. «., 1.00.4.00.5.U0 r. u.
from Trenton, 7.41. 9.25,11.10 a. k , 2.53,5.20,
7.00 P. m. On Sunday at 6.40 a. m.
From Burlington, 8.20,10.06,11.08 a. m.,3.32,5.46
From Brown's-Mills-in- the*Pines, 8.20, 12.16 a.
u.1M. 5.45,8.05 r.*. Sundays. 5.00 r.u.
from Pemberton, (north) 0.35, 7.42, 8.32.
a. 12.19, 4.07, 8.11, 8.17 r. u. On Sundays,
3.00 a. u. FromPemberton (south), 8.38 a.
m., 1130, 2.11, 4.50, 6.00, 8.19 r. u. On Sun
days, 5.18 r.M. , „ . „
From Vincentown, 6.50, 10.56 A.M., 1.55, 4.00
From Hightstown, via Burlington,11.02 a.m.
7 02 p. M.
STom Medford, 3.33. 11.55 a. m., 4.16, 6.85 r.u.
On Sundays, 6.32 p. m.
From Long Branch, 2.30 p. m.
From Toms ttiver. 7.48 a . m., 4.12 p. m.
From Island Heights, 7.35 a. m., 4.00 p. m.
Chas. E. Pugh. _ J*- W<?D* *
General Manager. Gen. Pass. Agent.
Pemberton and HUchttlown Railroad.
Trains leave Mount Holly for New Egypt
Cream Ridge, Hlghtstown, etc., at 7.33 a. m.
1.03, 4.52 r. m. Sundays, 6.05 p. x.
Trains leave Philadelphia and conneot for
Uan itiront Cronin liirigt, Hlghtstown, etc..
X. Sundays, 5.00 p. m.
n lor New Egypt,
a. Mj. 1.00 and 4.00 p.
^Bmmim^Jlikrhtstow
fttiJU nOl
t Houy ana rmmuwpuin
FT'ftr' ^pAdays, 6.20
tTON RAILROAD.
lly lor Tuekerton,
raaily, except Sunday.
$n, 9.56 a. m., Tuesdays,
iys, 4.52 p. m. dally,
9.26 a.
Thurs
except
for Tuckerton, 6.50 a. m.,
vs, 3.00 p. m., Tuesdays,
" .ys.and 7.1oP* on
>e»ch Haven, 4.56 a. m.
10.20 a. m., Tuesdays1
aidays, 3.55 p. m. dally
en for Mount iiony,
rpt Sunday. 3.00 p.m.
“ys and Saturdays,
on lor Mount Holly, 7.03
,llv exoapt Sunday.
Tues
a. m.,
fAUt Holly Post Office.
MALLS LSAVK AS FOLLOWS .*
A. X.
F. M.
orkand East.
^Jfy^BerUm and Uightou** ■:
nKH^Hniowu.
SH^Bton.
m^Kentown...
. Iwign.
West..
Atlantic City.
Medford.
Philadelphia .
Burlington...
en .
erton.
7.10)8.30
7.10 8.30
7.10 j 8.30
7.10 8.30
7.10 i 8.30
7.10
8.30
8.30
8.30
8.30
8.30
8.30
8.30
8.30
4.1&I8.00
K.r&K.K.tCtCK'K.ttK.K-K)
.88S'SS88'8S888
00 pc odob 00 00 OC ocooooccoo
■88SSS'88S'gS'?8
sand beady fob distribution :
▲. M. P. *•
A. ATKINSON,
"attorney at law, solicitor and
MASTER IN CHANCERY.
Ho. 109 Mam St., Opposite Washington House,
Mount Holly, N. J.
QUARLES M. SLOAN,
FIRE AND LIFE INSURANCE.
Office in Arcade Building, Mount Holly, N. J
/•, BO HOE W. CHAMBERLAIN, D. D. 8.
’ NEW EGYPT, N. J.
OfTiot DATS: Every Thursday, Friday and
Saturday. Gas Administered.
QKARLESEWAN MERRITT,
ATTORNEY and counsellor at law,
Mam Street^ opposite Arcade,
Mount Holly, N. J.
r H. CRAJHERi
1. SURVEYOR AND CONVEYANCER,
Commissioner of deeds,
JUSTICE OF THE PEACE,
Cbdak Rim. oobam Comrrr, N. J.
s
AMUBL CALEY, M. D..
HONKEOPATHIC PHYSICIAN,
Garden Street, near Cherry Street, Mount
Holly, N. J.
Omoi Ilonas : 7 to 9 a. n.. 1 to 2 r. it., 6 8 to r «.
QNOBOE W. V ANDGRYBER, M. D.
Bomoeooatbist,
Garden St. near Buttonwood, Mount Holly.
f Until 9 a. n.
OFFICE Houbs:
r UntU 9 a. n
s: 6 to 8 f. u.
t 1 to 2 F. *.
Fire, life and accident insur
ance.
Reliable Companies and lowest rates. Cor
yspondence solicited.
8AMUEL A. ATKINSON,
General Insurance Agent.
109 Main Street, Mount Holly, N. J.
_ flHAi. DARKER, D„ D. D. 8.
deSTm, office and laboratori,
Maik STKS’K'F, Mount Hollt, N. J.
(Opp. Court House.)
-GAS ADMINISTERED.
Medford. Wednesdays.
Hodge's, Wyeth's, Hoffs’
and Royal Malts at
Jones’ Drug Store,
MOUNT HOLLY, N. J.
Best Attention Given Prescriptions
First-Class Work; Reasonable Prices
WILLIAM H. CLINE,
FURNISHING UNDERTAKER!
VINCENTOWN. N. J.
Orders by Telegraph will be promptly at
tended to.
Mount Holly Academy,
A BOARDING and DAY SCHOOL
-*’08—
Boys and Young Men.
Apply tor our Catalogue, which contains full
pertionlars and references.
JS*v. J AMESi. COALE, A. M., (Princeton),
Prlnctpal.
OTOtKS
° BOUGHT AND SOLD
on Commission and carried on favorable
Terms.
Being members of b >th the Phi ladeJphla and
_ imgmembersoi o HI!ine I u uauc Iauu
Hew York Stock Exchanges, and having a
private wire direct from our office to New
York, we are prepared to execute orders left
with us promptly and satisfactorily. Ac
delved andlnterest allowed.
counts reoelv
V DeHaven & Townsend,
MO. 418 CHESTNUT STBEET.PmLADai.rBii
M
OUNT HOLLY 8KMINABY,
Mias M- ADELAIDE ATKINSON. Pnnoipal
(Opposite the Court House.)
This well-known establishment for Young
Ladles and Children, will re-otien on 8KP
TKMBEB 19tb. The course of Instruction is
most careful and thorough. Three bright,
well-ventilated and carpeted school rooms
offer exceptional advantages, being well fur
nished with all latest Improvements. South
ern exposure. -No "cross lights” to ruin the
gnt. Two'regular grades in each room.
IMay* ground, large and private. The Kinder
nkrten Idea of “ ‘ --- ■ "
garten Idea of combining the amusing and In
Wresting with the Instructive, will be entered
into more fully than ever, In the primary
room, daring the coming year.
Beef Wine & Iron,
Our own mike, 00 cents a pint.
>NES’ DRUG STORE
tbs Fountain, Mount HolJv.
place to town to get a glass of
Water. Prescription* • Specialty
Nor are
Tooled
Strange chewing
Tobaccos,
When they can get
the old. reliable
Vfhich is
^ARGER^anevw
Each Plug
full 4 ounces
tTo^n finzer & Bros.
Louisville Ky.
^ R. LIPPIHCOTT.
GENERAL AUCTIONEER,
MEDFORD. N. J.
Special Attention paid to sales of real estate
stock, farming utensils, etc.
^ DOKON,
WATCHMAKER AND JEWELER,
NO. 81 MAIN STREET. MOUNT HOLLY
Keeps the bestassortment ot Watches.
Chains, Bings, and Spectacles in Bur
lington County.
Also, a full line of Silver and Plated
Ware.
HAVE TOUR PAINTING
DONE BY
Samuel L. Bullock.
Best materials always used. Pure colors,
best White Lead and Zinc and Pure Linseed
Oil. All kinds ol painting done; Sign, Orna
mental, Frescoing, Graining, Calclmining,
Glazing, Ac. Work solicited from all around.
None but competent and experienced men
employed, and all work guaranteed. All or
ders should be left at my residence, Union
street, or T. B. Bullook’s store, G rden street
Mount Hollv
It IN, COPPER AID NHEET-lROJg
. WARE MANUFACTORY.
The snoscrlber, thanktni for the past lib
enil patronage the public, announces that
he is still engaged in the manufacture ot
Stoves, Heaters, Ranees, Tinware, Etc.
A lull variety ot which will bekept oon
sta ntly on hand or made to order at the shortest
notice.
Tin Roofing, Spouting, Plumbing, Oat and
Steam Pitting
Promptly attended to bv experienced work
men
W. J. BRANNIN,
MAIN STBEJST. MOUNT HOLLY.N.
Adjoining St. Andrew’s church.
FRIZZINE.
Will keepthe HAIK or BANGS
in CURL from 1 to 2 weeks in all
kinds of weather. Tnis is not a
BANDOLINK or STICKY
preparation and is au.>ul.u i i xiaiwu
LES.S. Take no substitute. Sold everywhere,
25 oAnfs par bottle or bv mail 30 cents.
FRfZZfNE MFG. CO.. 1001 Chestnut St.. Phila.
Hire. Elizabeth Messer
Baltimore, Md.
Rescued from Death
All Said She Could Not Live a
Month
Now Alive and Well—Thanks to
Hood’s Sarsaparilla.
“ I must praise Hood's Sarsaparilla, for It is
wonderful medicine. I suffered 10 years with
Neuralgia and Dyspepsia
and fainting spell*. Sometimes I would
be almost stiff with cold perspiration. I spent
a great deal of money for medical attendance,
but I did not get any benefit until my daughter
told me about Hood s Sarsaparilla, and I began
to take it. I weighed less than 100 lbs. and was
A Picture of Misery
Every one who saw me thought I could not
live another month. But I began to improve
at once after beginning witii Hood s Sarsapa
rilla, and have gradually gained until I am now
perfectly cured. I eat well, sleep well, and
am iu perfect health. I owe till to
Hood’s Sarsaparilla
Instead of being dead now, I am alive and
weigh 14a lb«.” Mrs. Elizabeth Messer,
19 East Barney Street, Baltimore, Md.
HOOD’S PILLS are purely vegetable, per*
fectly harmless, always reliable and beneficial.
' DO 'YOU '
1C0UCH
I don't delay
|tak£ --iV
KEMPS
balsam
It cures Colds,Coughs.Sore Throat, Croup. Influen
za, Whooping Cough, Bronchitis and Asthma. A
certain cure for Consumption in first stages, and
a sure relief in advanced stages. Use at onoe.
You will see the exoellent effeot after taking the
first dose. 8old by dealers everywhere. Large
bottles 50 cents and $1.00.
Jones’ Soda Water,
THE BEST IN TOWN.
Fresh Syrtips of our own make.
Try our Ice Cream Soda.
JONES’ DRUG STORE, Opp. the Fountain.
We, the undersignedwere
entirety cured ot rupture
by Dr. J. B. Mayer, *31
Arch St., Philade.lohia, Pa,, S. Jones Philips,
Kennet Square, Ph.. T. A. Kreitz, Slatington,
Pa.; E. M. Small, Mount Alto, Pa.: L. H. Kun*
kei, 437 N. TenthS t., Allentown, Pa.; Kev. 8.
II. Sberiner.Sunbury.Pa.jJ.U Fehr, 1021 Chest
nut 8t., Reading, Pa.; D. J. Dellett, 214 8.
Twelfth St., Reading, Pa.; J. Yates, 424 Vine
8t., Philadelphia; Wm. Dix, 1826, Montrose
St., Philadelphia ; U. L. Rowe, 809 Elm 8t.,
Reading, Pa.; George and Fh. Bnrkart, 439
Locust St., Reading, Pa. Send lor circular.
RUPTURE!
B£PW
J TAKE
THE NEXT MORNING I FEEL BRIGHT AND
NEW AND MY COMPLEXION IS BETTER.
My doctor says it acts gently on the stomach, liver
and kidneys, and is a pleasant laxative. This drink
is made from herbs, and is prepared for use as easily
as tea. It is called
LAKE’S MEDICINE
All druggists sell it at 50c. and $1.00 per package.
Buy one to day. f ane’s Family .Medicine moves
the bowels encb day. In order to be healthy, this
is necessary.
What is
Castorla Is Dr. Samuel Pitcher’s prescription for Infants
and Children. It contains neither Opium, Morphine nor
other Narcotic substance. It Is a harmless substitute
for Paregoric, Drops, Soothing Syrups, and Castor Oil.
It is Pleasant. Its guarantee is thirty years’ use by
Millions of Mothers. Castoria destroys Worms and allays
feverishness. Castoria prevents vomiting Sour Curd,
cures Diarrhoea and Wind Colic. Castoria relieves
teething troubles, cures constipation and flatulency.
Castoria assimilates the food, regulates the stomach
and bowels, giving healthy and natural sleep. Cas
toria is the Children’s Panacea—the Mother’s Friend.
Castoria,
“ Cagtorfa is an excellent medicine for chil
dren. Mothers have repeatedly told me of its
good effect upon their children/1
Da. G. 0. Osgood,
Lowell, Mass.
w Castoria is the best remedy for children of
which I am acquainted. I hope the day is not
far distant when mothers will consider the real
interest of their children, and use Castoria in
stead of the various quack nostrums which are
destroying their loved ones, by forcing opium,
morphine, soothing syrup and other hurtful
agents down their throats, thereby sending
them to premature graves/’
Da, J. F. KiwcHxnos,
Conway, Ark.
Castoria.
« Castoria is so well adapted to children that
I recommend it as superior to any prescription
known to me.
H. A. Archer, M.
Ill So. Oxford St., Brooklyn,
D..
N. Y.
«Our physicians in tho children's depart
ment bare spoken highly of their experi
ence in their outside practice with Castoria,
and although we only hare among our
medical supplies what is known as regular
products, yet we are free to confess that the
merits of Castoria has won us to look with
favor upon it.”
United Hospital, and Dispsnsa»t,
Boston, Maas.
Allen C. Surra, fVes.,
The Centanr Company, TI Murray Street, New York City.
Itzrastes
Good i
One reason why Scoff’s Emulsion of Pure Nor
wegian Cod Liver Oil and Hypophosphites of Lime
and Soda has had such a large sale is because it is
“Almost as palatable as milk;” but the best reason is
that its curative properties are unequalled. It cures
the cough, supplies the waste of tissues, produces
flesh and builds up the entire system.
Scott's Emulsion cures Coughs,
Colds, Consumption, Scrofula,
and all Anaemic and Wasting
Diseases. Prevents wasting In
Children, Ali»o»t as palatable as
milk. Cat onlf, the genuine. Pre
pared by Scott A Bowne, Chemist*, Haw
lark. Sold by all Drugatots,
Scott’s
EmuIsloiL.
urns.
Some men fcwe genius, some
some glory ; John Milton has thebi all.
Yet far more than this, for the very hame
of this man must ever go down, e^en to
the generations that are yet to (>ome, as
the one above all others whose .pen has
charmedant^Jb*wfldefe3-~-es ; the man
whom tEe whole world loves; the great
king of our literature, whose only rivals
are the immortal Shakespeare, and in our
own time, Lord Tennyson. Many have
no desire to know this man; some cannot
; understand him, for he seems to have
been almoBt more than human. As the
giant of the forest, he is the mighty oak,
which towers toward the sky of perfec
tion.
To read, and to read of, such men as
these, is a pleasure which people differ
ently enjoy. In reading an ordinary book
we do not stop to study its author, but in
cases like a treatise on “The Fall of Man,”
■ it seems that the author even excels his
works, if such a thing were possible.
John Milton was a man in every respect.
; So good; so true to men, to his country,
to his God.
Imaginations had no bounds for him,
they were almost his realities. We are
led by the magic power of his pen, not
only in regions upon the earth, but far
more; we are taken into hell, or ushered
into the awful presence of the Deity Him
self.
So many great men have shone forth in
our literature, that it is indeed bard to
place any one at the head of the list.
Scott was a noble man. He found him
self famous, in the first place, because he
rescued the ballad from oblivion, and sec
ondly, on account of his numerous and in
teresting prose works which followed.
Many others could be brought forward,
but Shakespeare and Milton seem to
strive more than all others for the goal.
As a genius Shakespeare has no equal,
but Lord Macaulay has said : “John Mil -
ton, the poet, the statesman, the philos
opher, the glory of English literature, the
champion and the martyr of English lib
erty.” Such words as these, and from one
so able to criticise as was Lord Macaulay,
cannot fail to awaken in us a desire to
know more of this man, who has called
forth such fit and beautiful words.
And still another has said, “Milton is as
great a writer in prose as in verse. Prose
conferred celebrity on him during his life,
poetry after his death; but the renown of
the prose writer is forever lost in the
glory of the poet.”
It was Charles Lamb who said, “Milton
almost requires a solemn service to be
played before you enter upon him.”
He seemed to realize that,
"As imagination nooies rorcn
The forms of things unknown, the poet’s pen
Toms them to shapes,ana gives to airy nothing
A local habitation and a name."
We might also apply a line of Sir Wal"
ter Scott’s, and say,
"Thewlzard note has not been touched In vain."
How true these words are, for the vibra
tions of the great string which Milton
struck are still sounding on the ear, and
should they die out, they would still send
back fainter and more beautiful echoes.
The ancestry of the poet is obscure in
detail, though we know that his grand
father, John Milton, was a Baptist, who
disinherited his son for becoming a Church
of England man. His mother was a gen
tlewoman.
The elder Milton seems to have been a
peculiarly bright man and one of strong
and forcible character. London scriveners
were usually not idle, and such was his
occn nation.
He gained quite a considerable fortune,
but not an enormously large one by any
means, and he appears to have been a
great lover of the arts and literature, and
t is well to note one point here, namely,
that when he found his son to possess
such rare powers and literary tastes, he
was not only able, bat willing to foster all
of his son’s desires in this line. In fact,
John Milton has himself said, “My father
destined me, while yet a child, to the
study of polite literature, which I em
braced with such avidity, that from the
twelfth year of my age I hardly ever re
tired to my rest from my studies till mid
night.”
John Milton was born on the 9th of
December, 1608.
A few words of preliminary history
must introduce him to the reader.
Some one has well remarked, “His pen
was as sharp and effective as the sabres of
Cromwell’s Ironsides.” Upon the death
of Queen Elizabeth in 1603, James I. as
cended the throne with the highest no
tions of kingly prerogative and of a church
establishment; but the progress of the
English people in education and intelli
gence, the advance in arts and letters
which had been made, were vastly injuri
ous to the autocratic and aristocratic sys
tem which James had received from his
predecessor.
His foolish arrogance and contempt for
popular rights incensed the people, thus
enlightened as to their own position and
importance. They soon began to feel that
he wa# not only unjust, but ungrateful;
he had come from a rustic throne in Scot
land, where "he had received £5,000 per
annum, with occasional presents of fruit,
gram and poultry, to the greatest throne
in Europe; and besides, the Stuart family,
according to Thackaray, “as regards mere
lineage, were no better than a dozen Eng
lish and Scottish houses that could be
named.”
They resisted the illegal taxes and
forced loans; they clamered against the
unconstitutional Court of High Commis
sion ; they despised his arrogant favorites;
and what they might have patiently
borne irom a gallant, energetic and hand
some monarch, they found it hard to bear
from a pedantic, timid, uncouth and rick
ety man, who gave them either glory nor
comfort. His eldest son, Prince Henry,
the universal favorite of the nation, had
died in 1612, before he was eighteen.
When, after a series of struggles with
the parliament, which he had reluctantly
convened, James I. died in 1625, CharleB
I. came to an inheritance of error and
misfortune.
Imbued with the princip les of his fa
ther, he, too, insisted upon "governing the
people of England in the seventeenth
century as they had been governed in the
sixteenth,” while in reality they had
made a century of progress.
The cloud increased In blackness and
portent; he dissolved the parliament and
ruled without one; he imposed and
collected illegal and doubtful taxes; he
made forced loans, as his father bad done;
I he was artful, capricious, winding and
I doubling in his policy ; he made promises
without intending to perform them, and
| found himself, finally, at direct issue with
his parliament and people.
First at war with the political principles
of the court, the nation soon fo.’ind itself
in antagonism with the religion and
morals of the court. / -
Before the final rupture,' the two par
ties were well defined as Cavaliers and
Roundheads. Each party went to ex
tremes, through the spite and fury of mu
tual opposition.
Loyalty was opposed to radicalism, and
actives ot bo)b were bitter In the
Sialism and
t juuisfiy,
spirit oi ex
cess, wr M
■any me, took
me woi
puu ceptjui any
| those ofl
Hat-, as the lan
guag^
JPerctfUrBe, which is
suea**
K too my countenance,
id often with a false
with a dhH
interpretation.
There came out from among the Pres
byterians the Independents; the fifth
monarchy men, shouting for King Jesus ;
the Seekers, the Antinomians.
Even in the army sprang up the level
era, who wished to abolish monarchy and
aristocracy, and to mingle the ranks in
one grand whole. To each religious party
there was a political character, ranging
from High Church and the divine right
of kings, to absolute levelers in Church
and State.
This disintegrating process was long re
sisted by the conservatives of all opinions,
but, at length, the issue came, and the
king was a prisoner, without shadow or
sign of power.
The parliament was still firm, and
would have favored the king by a consid
erable majority, but it was surrounded by
troops, and more than two hundred of the
Presbyterians and moderate men were ex
cluded. The crippled parliament then ap
pointed the high court of justice to try the
king for treason.
Charles I. fell before the storm. His
was a lost cause from the day he erected
his standard at Nottingham, in 1642, to
that on which, after his noble bearing on
the scaffold, the executioner held up his
head, and cried out, "This is the head of
a traitor I”
Milton came into the world to find him
self face to face with this awful storm,
which was shaking the entire kingdom
from its foundation, but yet slowly pav
ing the way for future liberty, and for
which the great poet himself did so much.
Even in his earliest childhood, Milton
seems to have been aware of his great
gift of learning, and a desire to learn;
he seems to have been conscious of su
perior powers, and even as he began his
life’s work, everything combined to aid
his genius, and to spur him on to that
great success which was m store for him.
He must have led the life of an ordin
ary London boy, surrounded by a little
more than moderate circumstances, until
be first began bis studies with a tutor.
However, when Thomas Young had
done all that he could for the boy, he was
sent for several years to 8t. Paul’s school
in London, where he studied on.
Even at this early age he was a hard
worker, which we admire, as well as re
gret in his after life, for he has told ns
that this continual study "was the first
source of injury to my eyes, to the natural
weakness of which were added frequent
headaches."
His mental powers must have developed
very rapidly, for at the age of sixteen he
had entered Christ’s College, at Cam
bridge.
His course while at this institution,
would no doubt correspond to a classical
course in our foremost universities, yet
he really went so far beyond his years,
that he had read and translated some
works which the other students could
hardly hope to begin. Overwhelmed by
a strong desire to know well the classics,
and as some one has told ns, “poetical lit
erature,” he equally disliked the i%y
sciences which were at that time forced
upon him.
To him these did not compare with the
higher and more fully developed knowl
edge of the ancient and modern writers.
Undoubtedly he did not then know that
he was to rank in the near future among
the greatest of epic poets that ever lived.
The dislike for the sciences soon grew to
hatred, and he expressed his feelings upon
the subject so freely that at one time he
was involved in serious trouble with the
college authorities. But then we read
that the disgrace could not have lasted
long, for he received both his degrees at
the customary time.
During his life as a student he did even
much more than to tend to his regular
work, for while he was at Christ’s College,
he wrote a number of poems in Latin, and
his famous "Hymn of the Nativity,” was
produced as a college exercise. In these
lines he took up the old, old theme, and
when he sang his song, it was like an
echo down the ages, still distinctly heard
from the plains of Judea, on the night of
the Magi pilgrimage.
Jean Paul Richter wrote, “If we can
often repeat to ourselves sweet thoughts
without ennui, why should not another
be suffered to awaken them within us
still oftener.”
The simple fact of bis being able to
write poetry in Latin at his age, furnishes
us with ample proof that his mind was far
above the average in natural talent and
in early and thorough developement
Milton evidently realized this, and seeing
the bright future that was before him,
even alter leaving college he determined to
store bis mind with such an abundance of
knowledge, that in alter years he would
have much to draw from, in the way of
the| best education it was at that time
possible to procure. Accordingly he re
tired to his father’s country seat at Hor
ton. in Buckingham, where he spent five
years in the clesest kind of study. The
object of hie seclusion seems mainly to
have been for the purpose of disciplining
bis mind, for the hated sciences were now
taken up in earnest, and likewise the
higher mathematics, while he found
pleasure in bis compositions, and also in
dulged in music; and that he bad a pas
sionate fondness for the art, the rhythm
of his verse bears ample testimony.
Here we see that he gave up all else for
that self discipline, which be gained by
the most difficult kind of work. For one
to sit down and devote his time to some
thing utterly distasteful is a task from
which we would all shrink ; and yet he
kept on, never wearying ; never tiring of
the drudge he had undertaken. His
music, too, must have aided him much,
for it could not but have the effect of
bringing out all that was refined and cul
tured. It must also have spoken to him
of human feelings, which he bo beautifully
portrayed in after years. It must have |
awakened him to the good and true, I
to the beautiful in nature, revealed on |
eve-y side around him.
During this time he had not been idle,
and among his works of these years the
most i mportant are “L’Allegro,” ‘‘II Pen
seroso ” “Comus,” the “Arcades,” and
"Lycidas.” This last poem was fiercely
condemned by notable men of the day,
and Samuel Johnson declared that, “No
one could have fancied that he read ‘Ly
cidas’ with pleasure had he not known its
author."
Dr. Backus says, “But few who read the
poem will accept such a criticism. For
force of imagination and exhaust less
beauty of itnageiy, it ausweia to a true pv> i
etical senplb!!!ty."
“L’Allegro’’ and “11 t'enseroso” are two |
widely known worts, and being nearly of
the same length, they appear to be al-!
j most counterparts, “L'Allegro” breaks
I forth with the -joy of youth, and the
amusements, life *pd occupations of a joy
j ■' . . * *$£
Hjj^l^iviai nature.
‘‘TTPenseroeo’’ brings out the other seri
ous and thoughtful side of life.
These are the works of his seclusion at
Horton ; they are drawn from *fae great
poet’s fancy and imagination, not from his
personal observation. Some one has said,
“His joy is without frivolity; his pensive
thoughtfulness was without gloom, They
are intellectual studies of emotion, not its
irrepressible utterances.”
The great historian, Hume, said, “It is
eertain that this author, when in a happy
mood, and employed on a noble snbject,
is the most wonderfully sublime of all the
poets of tbe language.”
His time spent on the languages had
not been in vain, for in the composition
of Latin and Italian verse, Milton has had
no rival in the history of literary work in
England. His classics truly are classics,
and in them we have all the beauty of
ancient rhyme. "Shakespeare, Spencer,
Sidney, and the inferior poets had writ
ten sonnets, some of a high degree of
beauty, but it was reserved for Milton to
transplant into his native country the
Italian sonnet in the highest form. He
has seldom chosen the subject of love;
religion, patriotism and domestic affection
are his favorite themes ; and most of them
are ennobled by that sublime gravity
which was characteristic of his mind.”
The man who could do all this was not
without a reputation, although as yet his
name was not very widespread. Time was
beginning to make him realize the great
future that was before him. He was to
occupy a position in the history of the
world, which had never before been
filled.
Many a time during his years of study
had he expressed a desire to visit the con
tinent, and at last bis long cherished idea
was about to be realized. He went for a
pleasure trip, and great men gave him in
troduction to great men in the cities
which he proposed to visit in Francs, It
aly and Switzerland and he received every
respect which was due him. This was in
1638.
To be continued.
HOUSEHOLD BREVITIES.
—Cranberry Jelly.—Strain the juic,
Tom stewed cranberries and to everj
pint add one pound of sugar, boil, skin
and test by dropping into cold water.
When it does not mingle with the watei
it is done.—Practical Farmer.
—Brown Corn Cakes.—Scald one pinl
of fine corn meal till all wet, then add
cold water till a little thicker than grid
dle cakes. Add a pinch of salt Brown
in butter or salt-pork fat on both sides,
then put them in the oven on the grata
for fifteen minutes to become crisp.—
Boston Budget
—Ginger Snaps. —Place in a sauce pan
one teaeupful each of molasses, sugai
and shortening and bring to a boil.
After boiling two minutes, stir in an
even tablespoonful soda. Pour this
liquid over three pints of flour, add a
tablespoonful ginger, mix, roll out thin
and bake in a quick oven.—Orange Judd
Farmer.
—The silver moth is sometimes an in
tolerable nuisance It may be got rid
of, however, by a thorough cleaning,
painting cracks in the room with a lit
tle corrosive sublimate or common ben
zine The creature is said to come
from dampness in the cellar or around
the building and is quite likely to be
found in buildings heated by steam,
where there is any moisture—N. Y.
Tribune
—Naples Bread or Biscuit.—Flour
one pound, nice fresh butter one ounce,
worked into the flour, with one egg, a
little salt, good yeast two tablespoon
fuls and one pint of milk. Mix ail
well and let rise one hour; then do not
work it down, but cut it in suitable
sized pieces and form' into biscuit and
let rise, then bake in a quick oven. If
baked in a loaf, you have Naples bread.
—Ohio Farmer.
—Johnny Cake.—Two teacupfuls of
corn meal, one cupful of flour, two cup
fuls of sour milk, half a cupful of brown
sugar, one egg, a half teaspoonful of
salt and one teaspoonful of soda When
the cake begins to brown, dip a clean
rag in butter and baste all over the top;
it is a great deal better. If the sour
milk is not to be had, sweet milk with
baking powder will answer for a sub
stitute.—Country Gentleman.
—Stuffed Eggs.—Six hard boiled eggs
cut in two. Take out the yolks and
mash fine. Add two spoonfuls of but
ter, one of cream and two or three
drops of onion juice; salt and pepper to
taste. Mix all thoroughly, and fill the
eggs with the mixture. Put them trw
gather. There will be a little filling left;
to this add one well-beaten, egg. Cover
the eggs with this'mixture and roll in
cracker crumbs. Fry light-brown in
boiling lard.—Detroit Free Press.
—Plain Chicken Fricassee.—Cut up
the chickens, and wash well in salt
water, put them in a pot with enough
cold water to cover them; add (for two
chickens) half a pound of salt pork, cut
up in thin strips; cover and let heat
Very slowly and then stew until the
chickens are tender. Cook slowly; if
they cook fast they Roughen and shrink.
When almost done, add, if desired, a
chopped onion or two, some parsley and
pepper; cover closely again, and, when
heated to boiling, stir in slowly a tea
cupful milk containing two beaten eggs
and two teaspoon fuls flour; boil up
again, and add one tablespoonful good
butter. Arrange the chicken nicely in
a deep dish, pour the gravy over and
serve hot—Household Monthly.
—Mince Meat for Pies.—One cup
chopped meat, one and one-half cups
raisins, one and one-half cups currants,
one and one-half cups brown sugar,
one and one-third cups molasses, three
cups chopped apples, one cup meat
liquor, two teaspoons sqlt, two tea
spoons cinnamon, one-half teaspoon
mace, one-half teaspoon powdered
cloves, one lemon (grated rind and
juice), one-fourth piece citron, one cup
cider, three teaspoons rose water. Mix
in the order given, using enough of the
meat liquor to make quite moist, and
cook in a porcelain kettle until the ap
ples and raisins are soft. Do not add
the cider and rose water until the meat
is cooked. Meat from the lower part of
the round that has a little fat and no
bone is best.—Boston Herald.
EVENING CLOAKS.
Pretty and Comfortable Garment! That
Mar He Worn With Dre«»e» of Vny Color.
Ermine capes in the flowing military
shape, with a high turneil-over collar
and a lining of mauve of pink moire, are
of any color. In some models the
ermine is gathered full about the should
ers to a yoke, and in others a waistcoat
front is added to give great warmth.
Bengal ines and the corded Muscovite
silks of very light shades of rose,
blue, or mauve are made up in large
circular cloaks with a Watteau fold in
the back and a cape falling below the
waist trimmed with four rows of white
mandar in lamb fur. Other opera cloaks
of light cloth have three separate caps
of cloth untrimmed, but the garment
is lined throughout with white man
darin lamb, and has a high collar of the
same fur. A magnificent cloak of pale
gray-blue velvet with panels of brocade
of harmonizing colors in front and back
has a high wired Elizabethan collar
and a cape falling to the hips bordered
with two rows of dark brown mink.
Evening cloaks of reasonable prices
are made of very light colored camel’s
hair brocaded in a design of acanthus
leaves, lined throughout with white
mandarin lamb-skins, with a hood and
jabot collar of the fur. These are
handsomer than Russian circulars, as
the fitted back requires merely an un
der belt of sJJJbon to tie them in shape,
snd the hu^ collar reaches up to the
ears. in pearl gray, pink,
and pale^^^^ndes. —Baroer^ Bi
BUILD WELL.
High on the granite wail, the builders, toil
tag.
Heaved up the massive blocks and slab* to
place,
With swart and streaming brows and strain
ing sinews,
tender the summer’s blaze.
And higher yet, amid the chills of autumn
Tier upon tier and arch on arch arose
And still crept upward, coldly, wearily,
’Mid winter’s sifting snows.
From stage to stage up springs the master
builder.
Instructing, cheering, chiding here and
there;
Scanning with'seruttny severe and rigid
Each lusty laborer’s share.
Anon his voice to those most distant shout
ing
Through the hoarse trumpet makes his or
ders swell;
Or utter words like these to rouse anc
hearten:
“Build well, my men, build well!
“ The ropes are strong and new and sound the
pulleys;
The derrick's beams are equal to the strain:
Unerring are the level, line and plummet;
Let naught be done in vain!
44 Build that these walls to coming genera
tions
Your skill, your strength, your faithfulness
shall tell;
That all may say, as storms and centuries tes<
The men of old built well!"
And ever thus speaks the Great Master
Builder
To us where’er our “Journey-work” may be;
“ Whate’er the toil, the season, or the stmo
ture,
Build well-build worthily!”
—Christian at Work.
“ IN BORROWED PLUMES. ”
How Mr. Barker Appeased a Fa
ther’s Wrath.
“Charlie!” called young1 Mrs. Barker
through the bathroom door, “here's a
letter from Tom. Shall I open It?”
“What’s that!” returned Mr. Barker,
sitting bolt upright in the tub, with
cold, fresh water running from his
head, neck and shoulders.
“A letter from Denver. Shall I open
it?"
“Certainly, and read it to me, will
you? I shan’t be out for ten minutes.”
Then the young woman, standing in
the passage outside, read as follows:
Fop Is on to you two. Be found me reading
your last letter. Ma and he's coming east to
morrow. 1 guess he’s loaded for bear, boy, and
you’d better clear out. Pop and ma mean biz, I
tell you. You'd think so if you’d seen the
spanking I got. Yours ever, Ton.
Charlie Barker had consulted Mr.
Hanson, it is true. Questioned closely
as to his means, he had had to own that
be was only a broker in a small way In
Fine street. Being flatly refused the
privilege of Installing Miss Evelyn
Hanson in his bachelor apartments on
Twenty-third street, he had done so
without the old man’s permission. He
had now to settle for this breach of
privilege with the old man himself. No
wonder he felt a little nervous.
But all Evelyn’s western blood was
up; all her western independence was
flashing in her eyes.
“If you’re not quite scared to death,
Charlie," she said, "perhaps you’ll be
good enough to open your friend’s,
Mr. Van Lith’s, letter. I see It’s his writ
ing,” and she handed him a neat little
note on pink paper bearing the Van
Lith crest, a Dutchman on a dyke,
with two demijohns full of schnapps,
rampant.
The young broker broke the seal. He
started up in a minute, his face won
derfully brightened, his eyes aglow
with excitement.
“The luckiest thing that could have
possibly happened," he cried. “Van
Lith’s going down to Newport; places
his house at our disposal; servants,
horses, everything. Liberal? Well, I
should say. But he’s going away for a
month, and Van and I were at Yale
together, and—upon my word, he’s the
best fellow In the world. ”
But Evelyn didn’t seem to share his
enthusiasm.
“Oh, you don’t see it yet. Look here,
I’ll explain. We move into the house.
Your father arrives. We’ve made a
lucky scoop in Wall street. I didn’t tell
you because I wanted to test your af
fection and all that sort of thing. The
old man is angry, of course, but soon
forgives us when he discovers I am
wealthy. Then we entertain him roy
ally, and when he’s really found out
what an excellent fellow I am then we
confess. God-bless you, my children,
and it’s all right. See!”
Evelyn nodded. "Go on,” ishe cried,
encouragingly.
“There isn’t anything more to be
said,” answered Mr. Barker. “Aotion’s
what we want. It’s half-past ten now.
Ike- tyrant of Denver will be here in
side of an hour. We must pack and
clear out at onoe. ”
“You stop calling popper names, or
you’ll do all the packing. You’d be
angry yourself if you’d lost such a
treasure. I am.”
She made a little tempting mouth at
him across the breakfast table.
In half an hour the pair were in a
cab on their way to Mr. Van Lith’s
house. Ann remained behind to care
for the flat.
Van Lith’s old colored butler stood
at the door to receive them and follow
his master’s instructions: “Treat
them just as if the house was theirs,
Joe."
A ten-dollar bill and a whispered
conference with Joe soon let him into
the secret on what the young broker
joyfully informed his wife was a “rock
bottom basis.”
Old Mr. llanson’s wrath had had
time to cool considerably on the jour
ney from Denver. It had flared up
again when he had traced his runaway
daughter and her husband to the un
pretentious down-town flat, but being
informed by Ann, duly primed for the
occasion, that her master had made
a large fortune in Wall street and had
taken a very handsome house in an
aristocratic quarter, his ire had mnch
abated.
“When did you make your pile?”
was Mr. Hanson’s first question.
“Oh, months ago,” replied Barker,
with horrible effrontery. “Your
daughter married me for love. I gave
her both love and money. That's the
way it should be. Let’s go in to
lunoh. What’s the matter, Joe? Is’nt
it ready?"
The old darky took him on one side
and whispered;
“Mars’ Charles, thar ain't er scrap er
meat in the house 'oept what’s been
done got fur the servants’ dinner.”
Mr. Barker rein alned gazing at the
old fellow for a f ull half minute. The
situation dazed him.
“Can’t you—can’t we have that?
What have they got for dinner, any
way?"
"A nice roas’ of mutton.”
"The very thing, Joe. Serve it im
mediately, an’ hero, you folks buy
something more for yourselves. Wo
mustn’t keep the guests waiting.”
Ho handed the darky a dollar and the
old fellow slowly pocketen it.
“Serve luncheon at once,” ordered
Mr. Barker, who was becoming Impa
tient "What are you waiting for?"
"Lookahere, Mars’ Charles," said the
old man, slowly and deliberately. “Hev
you any ijee what that mutton cost?”
“I can’t say I have. A dollar, per
haps. ”
“The ign’ance of some people," con
tinued the darky, “is inoompren'slble.
That mutton’s worth ten dollars if it's
worth a red oent butseein' as how you
don’t want it—■"
He was turning away when Mr. Bar
ker stopped him. It began -to dawn
upon the young man from Twenty
third street that he was being black
mailed.
"Here's your ten dollars, you black
rascal.”
He took the money from tala pocket
and banded it to Jos.
“Bring us up a couple of bottles of
elaret,” be said.
"I’ve got to buy ’em, tab. That’ll
Kit you five dollars more. It's mighty
od wins and one an ash.” j
•‘You black rascal”—iie
“That eapresshun will
two dollar^ Mars’ Barker,
call a ‘specible servant no bla
You’d better put up de cash,
an’ wine, and dem tings is apt
mighty quick in this bouse uud
succumstanoes. ”
liaricer saw ne iw
tics. He put up an^B
without a murmur.
Mr. Hanson and^H
parted upstairs tQjgm
“It's awful,^
she passed
ble. "Mao
the Van
tvful, "A
d h*M„
tie uranK
lessiy to pain coura^^M
and gorged himself 01^
nincn. ..us. natison, ne ui'^h
liim suspiciously; and old
them with a broad grin on his^^H
countenance.
“If this hind of thing keeps up for a
week I am ruined," he said to Evelyn
as the day finally closed, and at last
he saw his wife’s parents safely re
tired for the uight.
“I’ve an idea mother already suspects
something,” said Evelyn. "I’ve a good
mind to take her into my confidence
and confess it all.”
But this proposition alarmed him
more than anything else.
“Don’t do that. I’ve got four hundred
left yet. Let’s stick it out. At say
forty dollars a day, hoW long can we
hold the fort?"
“Just ten days!”
“And in ten days then, it is either
flight, the North river, or the morgue.”
“Ten days is a good long time,” re
plied Evelyn “I shan’t worry myself
so far ahead. Good night I’m off to
sleep. ”
Eight days of the ten had elapsed.
The Barkers, with a courage bom of
desperation, had “stuck it out” They
had become accustomed to their new
position, and, despite their failing
means, Charlie sometimes even fancied
himself rich.
The Hansons were delighted with
their new son-in-law. No words in the
English language were expressive
enough to sing their praises. They
had driven here and there, been taken
to all the theaters and feted every day
on the fat of the land. They had been
made to feel their importance. The
Hansons, of Denver, had never en
joyed themselves so much in their
lives.
Barker was nearly crazy. What
would he not have given to be back in
Twenty-third street, and, if he must be
shot for running away with old man
Hanson's daughter, at least have the
satisfaction of dying like an honest
man.
On the morning of the ninth day he
found a letter on the breakfast table.
Old man Hanson was there with his
famous appetite, eating eggs which
had cost fifty oents apiece and ham
which had been purchased from the
blackmailer’s at a dollar a slice.
The letter was from his father in Bos
ton and read as follows:
Mr Dear Chart.es—Your mother has just
learned from Mrs. Stewart, who arrived In Bos
ton from New York yesterday, of your late
good fortune In Wan street I always knew you
would fall on your feet, and you can now afford
to laugh at those who have hitherto called
you the fool of the family. Meantime you
may expect us by an early train to-morrow,
os we are anxious to see our new daughter.
Your affectionate father,
Horace B. Barker
P. S.—1 send this to your new house In Fifty
seventh street, which Mrs. Stewart tells us you
purchased of the Van Lltb estate. She says it
fs a splendid property. I hope you got a bargain.
It was the last straw. Unable to re
press his fe elings, the miserable
Barker uttered a load groan and
rushed from the room, nor did he stop
until he had reached his chamber.
Throwing himself into a chair, he
buried his face in his hands and re
mained for some time in a condition
almost approaching stupefaction.
He was aroused by a light touch on
his shoulder and looked up to find the
door closed and old Joe standing over
him.
“Don’t you be a blamed fool, Marse
Charles. Don’t you go an’ give it yup.
You’s doin’ splendid. I’s been talkin'
to de people downstairs an’ dey’s all
agreed you’s a daisy."
Barker raised his head and stared at
the man in blank surprise.
“VVo’s ain’t goin’ to pinch you no
mo’, Marse Charles We done it as
much fo’ do fun dere was in it as fo’ de
cash. Now you gets everything at mar
ket price. You’s a daisy. ”
The love of human approbation is tne
gainspring of a great deal of Human
t udeavor.
When Charlie Barker heard himself
called “a daisy” lie took new heart.
In five minuteB lie was a man again.
He went back to the breakfast table
and told another falsehood—about
having a sudden indisposition. He
was now determined to see mattere
through.
Suddenly there was a ring at the bell.
“A telegram,” said Barker, aloud.
“Perhaps to say that father and mother
can’t *come. How provoking-’ but in
wardly he rejoiced with an exceeding
Joy. He tore open the-envelope, and
the sight of that telegram nearly occa
sioned him a relapse:
“We are coming home. Mrs. Vao Lith quite
Kick. Expect us to-night.
“P. Van I.ith. ”
“That settles it,” muttered Barker.
“If ever Van Lith gets into this house
I’m done for. He’s as straight as a
string. And his wife, well, she wouldn’t
tolerate such a fraud as this for a mo
ment.”
There was no time to consult Evelyn.
He must act at onoe.
He went out in the hall The boy
was still there.
“Have you a telegraph blank with
you?” he asked.
“Yessir."
Then he wrote:
Don't oome. Smallpox fn the house Evelyn,
I and the servants are In quarantine. Am
writing. Charles Barker
The boy looked at the telegram, read
it, and bounded to the sidewalk. He
didn’t stop until he reached the corner.
Barker was now desperate. He was
in such a state of mind, and had so far
committed himself, that he was ready
for anything.
His parents arrived from Boston in
time for lunch. He received them roy
ally. He partook of deep potations.
He laughed with his new father from
Denver; he slapped his old father from
Boston on the back. They all got very
jolly. Dinner was a right merry meal.
The ladies had retired to the draw
ing-room. The two old gentlemen had
made terrific inroads on Van Lith's
wines. They each took a hand of
Barker’s in theirs and swore he was the
jolliest fellow in the world.
“And you like me all the better be
cause I’m well fixed,” laughed Barker,
hysterically.
“Rich or poor,” said Mr. Hanson, of
Denver, “it wouldn’t make any differ
ence to mo. Only give me an honest
man and one who speaks the truth, for
I despise a liar."
Then Mr. Barker, feeling that the
time had come, arose somewhat un
steadily on his legs and faced the gen
tleman from Denver, who was mellow
and smiling with wine.
“You have a right to despise me,
then, Mr. Hanson, for I am a hypocrite
and the biggest liar on the face of the
earth.”;
The old man started as if he had been
shot Something in the oxprescion of
his son-lu-law's faoe told him that this
was no joke, but he wajw»peaking the
truth.
“You a'n’t bin tellln’ us wrong about j
your torching, have ye?” he asked, i
slowly, relaxing into the vernacular of j
his early mining days and with his face I
gradually growing purple with anger. ;
Charlie Barker, for answer, put his j
hand in his pocket and drawing out a {
solitary twenty-dollar bill he laid it on'
the table.
“That’s every cent I own in the i
world," he replied:
“But this house; aU this fine furoi
tur’,” almost pleaded the old man.
“That's vaur’n. ain’t *t* - j
out to Di*i|
self. ”
•'You 1
“1 must'
up the me
around hi]
what I’ll i
Charlie
put capitalJ
it aa ■
"It’s
■ aal
i obje'ci
ver; and
other across 1
The man
shook it heartily.
"Then we forgiv
of us?”
' won t some pj»iwTOi
asked a mtoScal voice
way. 'Tmihalf forg-iven
just confessed to mother
mg-room.” J
rm
en all
her id
"Yes, we ll»'lneiude you.”
old man Hanson, “and you
well, for not being sharp 1
detect yon two fraudB fron
first. I despise a liar, but I’n
if your husband ain’t a da
Barker, how did you intend !
this with your friend Van Litn
"1 shall write him to-night I
count of the whole matter, fo
too happy to go to bed, and I
til le my story ‘In Borrowed
—Austyn Granville, in Chiet t
FEET TOO SMALL.
Many Women Perfectly Formed
as to Their Feetv.'' j
corridor of the Southern the
and discussed the human fot
says the St. Louis Globe-Dena|
"It is not true, as the world
suppose, that ideal statues a
sites. Ves, I have read thal
vise a number of models for 01
copying the head of one, th
Louis Xavier, a Parisian
making a tour of Amen
another, the limbs of a third.
Some sculptors may ~esor~ t
ridiculous patchwork, but I i
effect would be far from pleasingl
“Perfectly formed women are]
means so rare as generally sup
Not one woman in a dozen
seriously deformed by tight;
me mgn-neeiea snoes, mat
played such havoc with shapely
have about gone out of fashion,
perfectly formed female foot is
rara avis. The world appears to
adopted the Chinese idea that
smaller the foot the prettier it
the result is that perfectly
are cramped and abused
of beauty is left. Now
any artist, will tell you that
small to harmonize with th«
actual deformity. I would
the foot ton-large, if it he shapely,
too smatr Think of a Juno who
five feet seven inch as'and tips
at one hundred and fifty pounds
ing to and fro on No. 1 or No.
She should wear a No. 4
least, and a No. 6 would
proportion.
“Lfke the foot, the
monize with the body. A utttg-Btrs
of a hand on a lusty Minerva, who tc
ers up nearly six feet ?-vU. Is shock:
to true artistic taste. Iiid you ever
a man whose nose was poo small for
face? Well, it is just acjieeessary t
the hanil and foot shoulM' ie In harm'
with the figure as that l°e nose sho
fit the face. Some d«y people i
learn ihji., and ths& as many pet
will wear padded shoes as now 1
along in footgear a size too sra
Madam will then be as much ashai
of a hand too small as she now is of
too large.”
CURIOUS OAR FERRY.
Railroad Cara WIU Be Carried from S
igan to Wisconsin by Water.
A ear ferry across Lake Michigan
be one of the curiosities this seasc
navigation. Within a month the i
will be established between Frank
the Michigan terminus of the To
Ann Arbor & Northern Michigan
road, and Kewaunee, Wia., v
through connections will be made
the Winona <ft St. Paul railroad,
oars will be loaded directly at the !
and, after crossing the lake, will b
ashore, thus avoiding the heav3
pense involved in unloading iron
to steamer and then from steame
cars again.
The ferry will be a combinati
-the Chesapeake bay boat and tl
transfers used at Detroit and
Huron. They will be built to
stand the most furious storms rag
Lake Michigan, .p.arUouiarly duri
winter, its they are desigfiiefl to r
tne year round. They will have
screw-* and an ice-crusher at the
Two boats for this novel ferry are n!H
under construction by the Craig Shi pi
building- Company at Toledo, O. They*
are 250 feet long, B2 feet wide and 20
feet deep. Each will carry twenty-four
loaded freight cars on four tracks,
which run from end to end. It is said *
that it will cost but 88 to carry a ear
across Lake Michigan on the new ferry
as against $7 whers bulk is twiis
broken. The two oo vill cost 8190,
000 each, and will Ik. J up with all
modern appliances. Particular attesy
tion will be paid to guarding the mac?
chinery against accident while
lake.
WHAT ANIMAL
A Monstrosity Caught tri1
Ohio Creek.
A small boy living on
Eagle creek, very fond of
trot lines, the other :
to run his line,
respondent of tt<
r inding one ena <
its place, he f?ot in
to the other side of the creefl
other end of his line.
Taking hold of it and giving' it a little
pnll ha thought he had a huge fish. He
called for help to save it and a man
osnje to help him, and when they got to
it they found a large animal about eight
feet and a half long, with sixteen legs
andofour eyes. He had caugut himself
on the hooks, and had eleven large
hooks fastened in his body. After a
long aqd severe struggle they got the
animal ashore.
He seemsjter'Tiea very quiet animal,
and easily tamed. They uoj
have him tied with a rope, and with
slow, steady puli he will crawl out <
the b:mk and lay for a short time,
then fo back into the water.
Hf has a head somewhat like a 1
nec : like a dog, short, thick bigifand a"!
short tail. He is of a dark brown polorj
with short, fine hair. He has six
on his front and hind feet, and
four on the vest of his feet,
ures five feet four inch
body behind the tron^
gradually back, and
ten Inches In front 1
Hls nostrils are wuej
of a horse, and he ij
du&k, only aj