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S I "«i 4* 4 0^ m- ili & r^. Ml sr. 113 S"A svnniuprs WIGHT. gv The day i* drawing to close The golden-curtains in the west Speak of night of calm repose, Ami tired nature sinks to rest O'er the edge of sflyery clouds, Far in the western horizon. In silvery Uned and golden slu~ Slowly lowers the Betting son. How the dew of eve is falling O'er nature's carpet soft and green, One by one the stars appearing Lend rays of light upon the soene. The starry banners of the sky Shed o'er eann their Tadiant light, And Luna, from her throne on high, Essays to make the darkness bright. In the soft moonlight, cool and still, Dewdropsglisten on the flowers Over the falls and near the mills, Buns the water in wavy showers. How weary brother seek thy rest, While angels are fondly watching Cer the weary and o'er the blest As the hours of night are passing. How we feel no care nor sorrow On this side the river we rpst Ere the dawning of the morrow We may be resting with the blest A fairer morn for us is coming, When all sorrow will fade away And Joyful, too, will be the singing, At the dawning of that bright day. —Chicago Ledger. CHARLEY PARKHURST. The story of Charley Parkhurst, the noted California stage-driver, reads more Klcft a romance than it does like a verified tale of real life. San Francisco papers ve us very interesting sketches of ey. He first appeared on the box •eat of the stage-coach running from Oakland to San Jose after that, driving from Stockton to Mariposa, and again from San Juan to Santa Cruz. The stout, compact figure of about five feet six inches, broader across the hips than across the shoulders, the sunbrowned face, beardless save a few straggling, downy hairs, the bluish-gray eyes and sharp, high-pitched voice, the set but not unpleasant features, moved now and then with a rare smile, the deliberate movement which seems to be a fashion of the fraternity, were as familiar to the passengers on these routes as the chuck holes in summer. How he drifted to Cali fornia in the first days of the gold-min ing fever is nqjb exactly known, for in that time of hurry, bustle and struggle the ordinary unassuming man was very likely to be overlooked. His true name, even, in the light of present circumstan ces, has become a matter of conjecture. The generally-accepted story of the late Charles Parkhurst is, however, as fol lows: He was born, it is stated, in New Hampshire, and worked on a farm with his uncle until a quarrel arose between the two, when Charley moved to Provi dence, B. I. There he remained for some time as coachman in the employ of a Mr. Ghilds. From Providence he went to Georgia, and became a stage-driver, continuing in that State and occupation for two years. He used further to state that one Jim Birch, noticing his capabil ities as a driver, brought him to Califor nia and placed him upon an opposition line to drive from Oakland to San Jose. Whatever question there may be about this story, there is none as to his effi ciency on the driver's perch, nor as to the unfailing nerve that lay beneath his ordinary exterior.' An incident in his early career as a stage-driver will illus trate this. Once in winter, when the xain was coming down in sheets, as it had been for three days past, and the coach' was laboring along through mud almost tb the hubs, Parkhurst was hailed by a stray wayfarer and told that the bridge across the Tuolumne river was in a shaky condition, and that it would not be wise to risk driving over it. Parkhurst answered never a word, but, gathering up the lines with one hand, lie cut the swings and wheelers across the launches with the other, and pushed on. Soon the swollen stream came in sight. It was swashing and roaring like a mill-race. The bridge was next seen, and Parkhurst. clearing the rain from his eyes, perceived that, in a very short time, there would no longer be any bridge, for it. was already shaking on its foundation. The solitary passenger begged of Parkhurst not to venture on the creaking structure, but Charley, setting his teeth together and gathering the reins with a firm grip, sent the long whiplash curling about the leaders' ears and eyes with so vicious a swing that, giving a wild leap, they plunged for ward on to the bridge. The planks trembled under the horses' hoofs and locked beneath the wheels, but, with a final effort, a cheering cry from Park Hurst and a flying lash, the opposite shore was gained in safety gained only just in time, though, for, looking back at the turn of the road, the further end •f the bridge was seen to sway over the stream for a moment and then go tum bling into the waters. There were other dangers on this Stockton and Mariposa road than those of flood, for highwaymen abounded, and cine could never tell where progress might be stopped by a leveled shot-gun, masked man grabbing the leader's headstall, and the hoarse command to throw out the treasure-box. Parkhurst bad not long been running when such an interruption occurred. The choice was offered him, in the gloaming of a certain evening, between receiving the contents of two double-barreled shot guns and delivering up the contents of a strong chest. Parkhurst looked at the figures disguised with hideous-looking caps, and masks made out of legs of drawers, pulled down over the face, with two holes cut in them for the eyes, anil was disposed to parley. The ominous fingering of two triggers, and the knowl edge that his little gun was inaccessible, •ery nearly decided him, while a pistol barrel inserted in the near leader's off ear afforded him convincing proof that, for the nonce, discretion would bo the better part of valor. The box was dropped, but with it Parkhurst gave the warning that he would not let matters stop there, and that some time or other the same gentleman, or any of the kind, should hear from him in a less pleasant way. After that Parkhurst was not only for ever on his guard, but was always on the lookout for a chance to get even with the xo&d-agents. The chapce was not long in coming. There' a noted desperado known as Sugar Foot. Ooing here and there, terrorizing the passengers on a dozen routes, Sugar Foot at last decided to change hisbase of operations to the Calaveras road. It is probable that he had heard of Park burst's threat, Joi: he associated with for the enterprise quite a posse i«f highwaymen. ^i^Ehe^momiBnt of attack wasohosen, the choice being influenced by the report of a heavy booty to be obtained, and while Parkhurst was one day driving back home from Mariposa to Stockton, Sugar Foot and his band leaped into the road. There was the usual demand, the usual tactics of wicked muzzles pointing at the driver, and a rough hand at the leaders' heads. But there was a change from the usual programme when Parkhurst, draw ing a pistol, let fly right and left, and, with a pull on the reins and a call to the horses, sent them flying through the dis comfited robbers. Cljarley had aimed at the man who appeared to head the gang, and had the pleasure or seeing him clasp his hand to his breast and tumble back ward. The shot was fatal to Sugar Foot's predatory excursions, for, while his companions fled, he crawled into a miner's cabin and gave up his sinful ghost. There are other stories told of Park hurst to show the daring conduct of the man in the face of difficulties and dan gers. It is told that once, while driving a fractious four-in-hand from Oakland to San Jose, the ran away so suddenly as to throw Parkhurst from the box. Still retaining his grasp on the lines, he was dragged along until he succeeded in turning the runaways into the chaparral, where they caught among the bushes and stopped. To show their admiration of the driver's pluck, the passengers made up and presented him with a purse of $20. Again, when drivers were scarce he did double duty by driving both ways over the road, keeping on the box night and day, and earning double pay for months. During his career as stage-driver he was kicked by a frisky horse in the left eye so violently as to destroy the sight. It was from the loss of this organ that he received the nickname "One-Eyed Charley," by which he was commonly called. Leaving the Calaveras road, he took the position of boss driver on the Oak land and San Jose stage road, where, as on the Calaveras line, he made himself a favorite with all who traveled with him by his pleasant, quiet behavior and cool resolution. He added to his reputation on the San Juan and Santa Cruz road, where he was known as one of the crack drivers and best whips in California. Altogether he sat on the stage-coach seat for fifteen years, and only aban doned his petty throne when the steam horse invaded his province and he saw that Ichabod was written over the balmy days of staging. Even while driving, Parkhurst had occasionally in winter time varied his employment by following the trade of lumberman. In the woods, as behind his six-in-hand, he gained the name of being expert and thoroughly reliable. The heaviest work was never shunned. He wielded the ax with such vigor and skill that hewa* reckoned an A No. 1 woodman. Farm ing, too, was a calling which he seemed at home in, so when he stepped down from the stage-coach for the last time it was not to be shiftless and idle for want of any other employment. About the year 1858 he dropped the whip and reins, and opened a station and saloon on the road between Watsonville and Santa Cruz, at a point about half way between the Aptos Laguna and the first heavy sand hill as you gp toward Watsonville. At this place he furnished the hay and grain for the stage horses on contract, got also fair wages per month for taking care of the teams, etc., and kept his bar and stopping-place be side. He smoked, chewed tobacco, drank moderately, played a social game of cards or dice for the drinks, and was "one of the boys." Parkhurst, however, was never addicted to loose life. Though usually cheery and agreeable with those into whose society he was thrown, he was always inclined to be reticent about his affairs. That is, he was social, but never communicative a pleasant but never a joyful companion. He had no particular friends either on the roads on in the fields, and was not disposed to be what is known as chum my. Especially was he not a love-mak er and petticoats, even when surmount edbya trim bodice and a pretty face, were without special attractions* There was, at one time, an owner of both pet ticoat and face who seemed to have made a little deeper impression than the rest of her sex. Near the ranch on which Parkhurst first settled lived a widow with an only daughter. Somehow or other they did not prosper, and misfort une at last overtook them in the shape of a Sheriff's sale. Parkhurst bought the place and gave it back to the widow and, though it was said at the time that the good deed was promoted by the daughter's good looks, the report is nul lified by the fact that soon after he left the neighborhood and settled near Wat sonville. Parkhurst's celibacy was not enforced by poverty, as the neighbors very well knew, for, being of a saving disposition, he had amassed a comfortable fortune of some thousands of dollars that is, a comfortable fortune inasmuch as it was sufficient to insure him a competency. In course of time he rented out his sta tion, and went into the cattle-raising business. After raising quite a herd of cattle, he sold out of that business, and, being a sufferer from sciatic rheumatism, he sought a less laborious avocation, and went to raising chickens in the hills back of Aptos. In this last occupation he continued for some years, but finally yielded to his rheumatic troubles, sold liis ranch to a Portuguese, deposited the proceeds, or a part of them, in the Bank of Watsonville, and retired from active life to live on the interest of the money. Near the Seven-Mile House, out of Wat sonville, is a little cabin, and there, dur ing the latter years of his life, Parkhurst has resided. He was well known to the townspeople and those on the surround ing farms as a quiet little elderly gentle man of about 60 years of age, badly afflicted with rheumatism not given to talking much, but apparently contented to live unnoticed and alone. This rheu matism was the natural result of the ex treme exposure and hard work to which lie had been subjected all his lifetime. The winters' snows in the woods, the years passed with his face turned un~* tiinchingly to the wind and rain, and his general carelessness as to results, played havoc with what must originally have been a institution of ijx»n. His rheu matism grew froni bad t6 worse, xrntil it resulted in the withering of the^egfc bers, and he grew almost'helpless: Then, as if his ills were not crushing enough, he became afflicted with a can*, cerous tongtie and mouth. This was his death-wound, so to speak and, feeling si*? that this world was slipping from, his grasp, he very quietly hired a man to attend to his needs and, telling a friend that he was going to die, directed him what to do with his belongings, and waited patiently for a relief to his suffer ings, which had now become most acuta That relief came on Sunday, Dec. 29 when Charles Durey Parkhurst, reputed native of New Hampshire, voter of th« State of California, aged 67, departed this life. With his last breath Charles Park burst, the. daring driver the fearless fighter of highwaymen, the strong lum berman, passed out of existence, and it his place was found something gentle and more tender. With the death one who was always more or less a mys tery, was born one that shadows the other into utter insignificance. The dead man was being prepared for hi* last resting-place, when the astounding discovery was made by those fulfilling the sad office that the clay beneath their hands was that of a woman! With as tonishment at a deception so marvelouslv carried out comes the sad thought of au she must have suffered. It is useless to waste time in conjectures as to what led the dead to take up the cross of a man's laboring life, but whether from necessity or phantasy, the certainty remains that in the latter years there must have been many dark hours when poor Charley Parkhurst longed for a little of the sym pathy which is accorded to every woman. Hints About House-Cleaning. Copperas mixed with whitewash put upon the cellar walls will keep vermin away. To polish stained floors rub them thor oughly once a week with beeswax and turpentine. Strong brine maj be used to advant age in washing bedsteads hot [alum is also good for this purpose. Hellebore sprinkled on the floor at night destroys cockroaches they eat it and are poisoned. Drain pipes and all places that are sour or impure may be cleansed with lime water, copperas water or carbolic acid. When house-cleaning, be sure and take nutritious food at least three time? per day, and it will go far toward ena bling you to keep strength anil temper. Carpets should be thoroughly beaten on the wrong side first, and then on the right, after which spots may be removed by the use of ox-gall or ammonia and water. When hard-finished walls are calci mined, the soiled coats should be washed or scraped off before a new one is put on. This is the most disagreeable part' of the process. The furniture should be covered, as lime makes spot,* that remove with difficulty, especially upon black walnut. Furniture needs cleaning as much as other woodwork. It may be washed with warm soap-suds, quickly wiped dry and then rubbed with an oily cloth. Tc polish it, rub it with rotten-stone and sweet oil. Clean off the oil and polish it with a chamois skin. For ordinary wood work use whiting to rub the dirt off and ammonia. Mortar and paint may be re moved from window glass "with hot, sharp vinegar. Grained wood should bt washed with cold tea. In washing painted walls it is a good plan to remove from the room every thing that can be injured by steam and then hang sheets wrung from hot watei in the room. The vapor, condensing on the walls, softens the dirfr, which may be wiped off with woolen cloths wrung from soda water. Ceilings that have been smoked by a kerosene lamp should be washed off with soda water. If the wall about the stove has been smoked by the' stove cover the black patches with gum shellac and they will not strike through paint or calcimine. Paint your plastered walls and they will not absorb odors. Tou can easily clean them with soda and water. Soap and water spots them. When paper and plaster become saturated with effluvia, nothing but entire removal will clean them. Insects will not harbor in paint ed walls. Before paint or calcimine is applied to walls every crack and crevice should be filled with plaster or cement made of one part water to one part sili cate of potash mixed with common whit ing. For the calcimine put a quarter of a pound of white glue in cold water over night and heat gradually in the morning until dissolved. Mix eight pounds of whiting with hot water, add the dis solved glue and stir together, adding hot water until about the consistency of thick cream. Use a calcimine brush and finish as you go along. An Afghan Woman's Shoes. The slippers and shoes are of Cabulese make, and are very pretty. On a pale green background beautiful patterns are worked with gold and silver thread and parti-colored silk, until the effect is more like that of a fairy slipper than one for daily use. -But a stout leather sole is put on, with high heels rudely, bound with iron, and then the work of art is complete. The stalls in which their slippers and shoes are made are the gay est in the whole bazar. A Cabulese tody's foot is small, almost to deformity, &nd the baggy trousers by contrast make them appear exceedingly petite. From the few faces seen, and those chiefly of old or passe women, it is difficult to judge of the famed beauty Cabulese are said to boast of. The children are cer tainly, as a whole, the prettiest I have ever seen. Their complexions are red and white, with a tinge of olive pervad ing the skin, eyes black and lustrous, well-shaped features, teeth to make a Western beauty envious, and bright, in telligent looks that sadly belie the race to which they belong. Their mothers must be beautiful, for their fathers are generally villainous looking the men losing all the pleasant traits which as boys they possessed. The lady I have described, as seen in the zenana for a. moment, was certainly handsome, and Was far lighter in complexion than a Spaniard her eyes were really worthy of the praises sung byHafiz, but the sensuous lips were a little too full and pouting. It was just such a face as one imagines in a harem, and would be in keeping with the languorous life, of a voluptuary to whom sensuality ifij' a guid ing star. Such faces always lack char acter,. «*nd .would' soon prove msipid in tfo,i.jeyes ol tlfe '.West. The Cabulese lady, when carried in an elaborate Wicker-work •/Pflge .00^" ered with the inevitable' flowingvlinen,^ or rides, Amazon fashion, on a ponyoe--" hind her lord.' V" -4 c-l 'V* r, f" THE Fomnr nAmiABBr. There was a funny mandarin Who had a fanny way Of tiding down the balustrade A dozen times a day. With arms in air and streaming hair, K. At risk of bone«and braiEL Around and round the winding stair He sM the rail amain. The Vsurest" aim may miss the game, The "safest" ship go down, And one mistake wilrbring to blame The wisest man in town. And thus it ran that daring man. Who nerer thought to fail, At last, in .spite of every plan, Went gliding off the nuL The servants then, unlucky men, Began to laugh and grin, Which, like a lion in its den, Aroused that mandarin. Ho, ho!" said he," you laugh at me Now, slaves, you each shall slide!" And, when they all had met a fall, He laughed until be cried. —Palmer Cox in SL Nicholas. Drinks for the Sick. In speaking of the annoying thirst of fever patients, Dr. H. H. Kane, in his Sick Boom," says: Thirst is a very prominent and annoy ing symptom of fever, and one that re quires a little consideration. Plain wa ter, when taken beyond a certain amount, is very apt to disorder the stomach and bowels, especially in fevers where much fluid and but little solid food is taken. Enough water to quench the thirst would certainly be enough in most cases to dis order digestion, or rather, further disor- der it, and so important is the little that run Small pi held in the mouth, and allowed to dis solve, sometimes answer the purpose, but not in the majority of cases. Up to a certain point, the action of water taken internally, in fevere, is excellent aside from allaying irritation by quenching thirst, it flushes the kidneys, carry ing off much of the effete material produced by the high temperature. It has been found that the addition of cer tain substances to water greatly in creases its power to quench thirst. This is especially the case with acids. One drachm of hydrochloric acid added to a quart of water will give it sufficient acidity to accomplish the desired pur pose, while, at the same time, it adds to its pleasantness, and sometimes relieves nausea. The use of acids in fevers is highly commended by some authors, and is, I think, the best way in which to administer them. The same amount of sulphurous acid may be add ed to a quart of water when the bowels are loose or there is a tendency that way. In these cases acidulated barley water is pleasant and nourishing. The same maybe said of toast water. In constipation, oatmeal water may be used in the same manner. A few tamarinds added to a glass of water will often as suage thirst and open the bowels gently. remains of this function that we cannot afford to abuse it. Small pieces of ice, Dr. Binger, speaking on this subject, says: "Although, perhaps, not strictly relevant to our present subject, a few re marks may be made here conveniently on the drinks best suited to fever pa tients. To them, thirst is most impor tant and distressing, often causing much restlessness and irritability, .these in their turn often increasing the fever. The ur gent thirst must, therefore, be allayed but if left to themselves, to satiate their craving, patients will always drink to ex cess, which is very liable to disarrange the stomach, impair digestion, produce flatulence and even diarrhea. Theory and experience both show that drinks, made slightly bitter and somewhat acid, slack thirst most effectually. A weak in fusion of cascarilla or orange peel, acidu lated slightly with hydrochloric acid, was, with Graves, of Dublin, a favorite thirst-allaying drink for fever patients. Raspberry vinegar is a useful drink. Sucking ice is very grateful. Sweet fruits, although at first agreeable and refreshing, must be taken with care and moderation, for they often give rise to a disagreeable taste, and are apt to pro duce flatulence and diarrhea." Mohammedan Indifference to Suffering. I recollected having seen at Nikopolis or Sistova—I forget which—great piles of bones ready for exportation, among which were some human skulls. I also recalled to mind that two months pre viously, when I was visiting some chem ical works in the North of Scotland the manager showed me his bone stores from the Black sea, and said that hu man bones were often found in cargoes from that quarter. Again, a few weeks after my visit to the Shipka, I saw a considerable number of men's skulls and other bones in shallow open holes in the Acropolis of Athens, which the local dragoman told me were the remains of Greeks and Turks who had fallen in the War of Independence fifty years ago. That Mohammedans and other rude races are indifferent about burying the bodies of those in whom they have no special personal interest I can well be lieve. With them the feeling of sympa thy for physical suffering is almost non existent. If so callous about the living, why should they care for the dead Over and over aeain in India I have been dis gusted by the cruel way they leave a dog, when disabled bv a boar, to die a linger ing death in the jungle—from starva tion, or being eaten while still half alive by beasts of prey—when a prod with a spear would have ended the poor brute's misery. It is the same with baggage and other animals. Of the 70,000 cam els which died during the 1878-9 Afghan campaign, 1 suppose a large majority died in one or other of the above horrible ways. Of those that did not, we may safely conjecture the happy dispatch was either due to the humanity of a British officer, or to the promptings of the Mo hammedan stomach. —Blackwood's Mag azine. A Curious Accident- A curious though awkward accident happened to a clergyman of this city, who was being shown the points of in terest around the city, by one of his par ishioners. Among other places, they visited a wharf commanding a view of our grand old rrver. The reverend gen tleman became absorbed in contempla tion of the prospect before him, and for getful of the broken plank oehind him, in the dilapidated wharf, suddenly step ping backward, he found himself falling, and instinctively grasped his friend by the shoulder with one hand and threw his other arm around his waist, and both fell into the opening, which proved to be too small to, let., them through, into the deep.and rapid current beneath. United they filled the mouth of they awn ing abyss which gaped wide enough to swallow either ot .them alone. The un? ion of pa stored people was never b'et- ij c: the two" clung together like Damon and Pythias, and formed a suspension bridge across the horrid chasm, with their in terlaced bodies, until &y the exercise of herculean efforts, and acrobatic contor tions. they struggled out their perilous position and regained their perpendicu lar, when the minister c«mi)Iunented his companion with the remark, "Well, you area good man to cling to. Are all the members of the parish like you?*7 "O yep," was the answer ''we are all bound to give our minister a good support." Skulls and Brains. The weight of the brain has often been held to be the criterion of the mind though, apart from the want of confirmation obtained by investigation, there are various theoretical-difficulties. The brain, whatever other function it may have, is undoubtedly a source of power supplied to the muscles, and we are ignorant to what extent the activity of the muscular system or the size of tiie body may influence that of the brain. We know that a muscle grows by judi cious exercise why, then, should not the brain, supplying it with the nerve force necessary for its increased duties, enlarge pari passu It may be doubt ful whether we can prove this is so. It is, I thiTilr, certain that we can not prove that it is not so. Dr. LeBon, in a work to which I shall refer again, has decided that the height of a person has an effect, though a very slight one, on the size of frViA brain. He found that the influence of the weight of the body is greater, but by no maans sufficient to account for the variations of the brain. Another disturbing element is age. It has been estimated that after a rather uncertain date, say 45 years, the brain gradually dwindles. Again, may hot some wasting disease preceding death cause a shrinking of the organ, and may not other pathological changes increase its density? All these sources of error must make us skeptical as to individual results," though, at the same time, we cannot free ourselves from some share in the general belief that the weight of the brain is an index of the mind. The weight of the brains of numbers of known men, distinguished and other wise, has been cited for and against this theory. Cuvier is usually found heading the list, with a brain weight of 64.33 ounces. (The average for the male is between 49 and 50.) One is struck with the apparent propriety that this vast intellect should have worked through a heavy brain. Within the last ten years, however, a laborer has died in En gland whose brain weighed 67 ounces. Of his history and habits little is known. Though intelligent for his rank in life, he apparently gave no piprng of fitness for a higher one. TTig most intellectual trait, if I re member rightly, was his fondness for reading newspapers, probably the only literature he could ob tain. "Chill penury" may have "re pressed his noble rage," if he had any. lie may have been a mute, inglorious Milton!" But who knows whether the sublime imaginations of the poet betoken remarkable cerebral development? The late James Fisk, Jr., had a brain weigh ing fifty-eight ounces, surpassing Dan iel Webster, Chauncey, Wright, Dupay tren and a mathematician of the first rank. Indeed, all these, except Fisk, came after a man who from his second year was reckoned an idiot. A cele brated philologist is below the average, and a distinguished mineralogist much below it. In spite of many exceptions, however, we find distinguished men most numerous near the top of the list, and laborers, criminals and idiots at the other end of it. Anatomists give very discordant di rections for determining the sex of skulls. In a great many cases it cannot be determined. The female skull, as a rule, is smaller than the male, and, more over, the jaws and prominences for muscles are less developed, consequent ly the brain case, though smaller than in man, is larger in proportion to the face. Dr. LeBon gives some very curious statistics concerning the capacities of female skulls. There is no question that the differences in skull and brain between the sexes increase with the de gree of civilization but it is astonishing that, while the skulls of male Prussians are among the largest, those of the women are remarkably small they are even smaller than those of'the women of Polynesia, and but little above those of the women of New Caledonia. This is a fact not easy to account for.—Interna tional Review. Remains of Gothic Architecture. A most interesting discovery of a beautiful vestige of Gothic architecture, in excellent preservation, has been made beneath the house at the southeast cor ner of Leadenhall, and directly opposite Aldgate pump, in London. The arches and vaults in the basement have hither to been used as a storehouse for wood and other materials, but the extreme beauty of the architecture, particularly the sculpture and graining, led to an in vestigation. After the most diligent re search, it was ascertained to be the re mains of a chapel dedicated to St. Michael, and is designated by old his torians as "next Aldgate." It appears to be of very great antiquity, having been built by Norman, prior to St. Kath erine, of the Holy Trinity, in the reign of Henry I. and his Queen Mathilda, of Boulogne, about the year 1108, and is now nearly 780 years old. The chapel consists oi pillars and arches. Its length from north to south is 48 feet, and its breadth from east to west 16 feet. The walls are constructed with oblong blocks of chalk, similar to those of Bochester Castle. The arches are of stone, the keys of which are beautifully sculptured with knots and other devices, and exhib it at a glance the skillful masonry of our ancestors. The chapel has been filled with soil and rubbish nearly to the capital of the pillars. From the ground to the crown of the arches is 10 feet, and, allowing the shafts to be buried 16 feet, gives a height of 20 feet to the in terior of the building. The iron hinges and casements are still attached to the walls, from which circumstance it is con jectured that the stracture originally stood on the surface, but that in subse quent years. the ground outside^ was raised gradually until at last the relic of past ages was completely buried. At the southern extremity^ there is an appear ance of an arched passage in the (Erec tion of St. Katherine's docks, thevsiteof which the^ priorv of St. Katherine's formerly occupied. Shoplifters. We estimate our losses fram shc lifting at $10,000 a year," said one of tfie1 proprietors of a large East Side dry* goods and fancy-gooas store yesterday. "In the busy hours you cannot estimate the nnmber of people that conie to this store. If you watch them from the gal leries they swarm like ants. To serve them we employ between 900 and 1,000 persons, we have to watch them all, customers and decks alike. On the other hand, it is a prime necessity to displav our goods, and to display them in sttch a way as to tempt the dishonest. Shop girls are burdened with a rep utation they don't deserve, and I hate to say anything against them," continued the shopkeeper, "for there are girls working for us who bend their necks to the yoke and labor only from necessity, and whose every instinct and action is that of a lady. But some of the girls formed a ring with outsiders, and we discovered them, selling the best goods and sending up checks for a nominal figure, 25 or 50 cents, when the real price might have been as many dollars. We get information against the girls some times from customers. For instance, the last case was that of a person who wrote that such-and-such a looking girl, at such-and-such a counter, was seen to drop a bill on the floor and send up a check for just so much less than the real price. Whenever our attention is di rected against employes we generally catch them." "Do the cash boys steal?" he was asked. We lose a great deal by boys, both in our employ and from outside. You'd be astonished if you knew the number of the sons of respectable people—often little boys—that we catch stealing. Among our cash boys there havo been some very ingenious thieves. One lit tle fellow tore leaves out of his cash book so nicely that it was not discovered by the cashier, although it might have been that night. We suspected him, and took him into a private office, where we talked to him earnestly. He admit ted his guilt, and said that he had put the money in his shoe. There we found over $14, the stealings of only a few hours. But there was a smarter boy, although I suspect he had adult accom plices outside. He carried on his per son a little pad soaked with printer's ink, and an exact fac-simile of the cash ier's stamp cut on the end of a cork. Whenever he got the exact price of an article sold from the saleswoman he went away and stamped his cash book, and brought it back as if from the cashier's desk." "Do you cause the arrest of many shoplifters?" the tradesman was asked. "Yes, a good many, but not all, by any means. We don't disturb persons unless we have the most positive proof of their guilt. When the article stolen is a trifle we watch the woman so as to remember her face, but usually do noth ing more. Not infrequently we see thefts committed by women that we be lieve are not habitual trespassers, but were urged on by too strong temptation and poverty. Such women we take to a private room. We tell them our sus picion. If they confess and give us what proves to be their right names and addresses we let them go. But all this is a very delicate matter, and to make a mistake is very dangerous. You must know that shop-lifters are generally among the best dressed and most re spectable-looking women that come in our store. I stood at the second-story skylight one day looking aimlessly down on the first floor. I saw two elegantly dressed women putting away roils of silk ribbon. I watched them, and there wasn't any doubt about it. I hastened down and told the floor-walker. He was astonished. I persisted, and he spoke to the women. They were vio lently indignant. As they walked toward the door we saw them throw the rolls of ribbon among some boxes between two counters. We had them followed. They lived in an elegant brown-stone house on Forty-eight street."—New York Sun. A Toiceless Wife. Burdette leaves off his fun to write this pretty little sketch: While I was lecturing at Washington I saw a lady with an intelligent, pretty face and bright, eloquent eyes that were rarely lifted toward the speaker, and then only for a flash, of time. They were bent upon her husband's hands almost con stantly. Brilliant and accomplished a few years ago, she had gone down into the world of voiceless silence, and now, all the music and all the speech that comes into her life comes through the tender devotion of her husband and, as I talked, I watched him telling off the lecture on his nimble fingers, while her eager eyes glanced from them to his sympathetic face. It was a pretty pict ure of devotion. They were so young to have this cloud shadow the morn ing skies of their lives but, as I glanced from the voiceless wife to her husband, I thought how beautifully the sunlight of his devotion was breaking through these clouds and tinting even their af flictions with a tender radiance. This discipline of attending upon suffering is a good thing for a man. It rounds out his life it develops his manlier, nobler qualities it makes his heart brave and tender and strong as a woman's. How to Write for the Papers. The Boston Post hits the nail on the I lead when it says Communications should be brief, and there are several reasons for this. In the first place, newspaper space is valuable. The mo dern newspaper is' never troubled with the old-time complaint of needing "something to fill up." The editor's scalpel is constantly reeking from the slaughter of live as .1' \T I A news matter and inter- esting miscellany. Short communica tions are much more likely to find read ers than long one3 are, and unless they are to be read it is much better not to publish them. More contributions can be represented where the articles are short than when they are long, and one man has as strong a claim upon the col umns as another, provided he furnishes interesting matter. A short article is usually more pithy and pointed than a long one. A subject should have many ramifications to demand more than half a column in a newspaper, while all that can be saved even from that limit up to a certain point is apt to be an improve ment. That prince of journalists, the late Samuel Bowles, once apologized for along editorial, and gave as his excuse lack of time towrite' a short one. He expressed an important truth in his usual epigrammatioway.