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M-. •a •V, jpipWP. .Hypp^SR *.™ *, 11' IS UOlltU A1 DOWN. VIM Prown «r Pn|NM,t«| It for tli* Mat* M- Hnw MMi toy Whom It Wh rinl Dotte—WUv It la In Certain Kama (lam, FimmI for Infant*. "Toll me Boniething about condensed milk, its manufacture and ita populai uaw," requested a Globe reporter of one of the best known chemists in Boston, Mthe two sat discussing matters in gen eral. "Tiie demand for condensed milk grew, I suppose, out of a desire to rendei milk capable of being transported long distances and to keep it sweet for a long time. It is hardly worth while to gc into a technical description of the pro cen of condensing as it is simply evapo ration—by means, however, of a vacuum put. WORKING IT OUT. "In the middle of this century. Pro fessor E. N. Horsford made numerous experiments showing that milk could be successfully condensed by evaporating it at a low temperature with the addi tion of some sugar. He did not employ a vacuum pan, but he pointed out the means by which his assistant, Dalson, with Blatcliford and Harris, succeeded in placing the first condensed milk upon the market. This milk, which was sold in cakes packed in tin foil, formed part of the provisions which Dr. Kane took with him on his polar expedition. "In 1850 Blatchford improved the pro cess by introducing the vacuum pan. In the same year Gail J3orden obtained a patent for applying the vacuum pan in a particular way to the preparation of condensed tnilk without the addition |f sugar or other foreign substance, litis milk, however, would not keep for any length of time, and Borden added sugar: and his preserved milk appeared on the market in tin boxes, hermetically sealed. Horsford and Borden share the honor of having invented condensed milk. "Condensed uiilk is prepared by evap orating ordinary milk at a temperature below 100 degs. preserved milk is con densed milk to which sugar has been added during the process of evapora tion." "What is the ordinary condensed milk of commerce?" asked the writer. "Simply condensed milk to which cane sugar has been added. They found that in the condensing, after the milk reached a boiling point, the fat separ ated from the rest, and a proper degree of thickness could not be obtained, but that by adding cane sugar the milk could be reduced to the desired consist ency. If the milk were tliin enough to srfhke around in the can it would be churned, as it were, by handling, and little lumps of butter would gather in it. Even in common milk that has been brought to me for analysis, 1 have found DIFFERENT QUALITIES OF J1U.U. "But aa I was saying, milkmen often carry around in bulk, in ten quart cans. a kind of condensed milk made without sugar, and that will keep several days. That kind is the best in the world lor babies brought up by hand." "How is that?" asked the reporter, growing suddenly interested. "Well, this fallacy about 'one cow's milk for the baby' is pretty well knocked out now. People in the first place are not sure that they are getting one cow's milk, and the next place if they are and the cow is diseased the baby's health is endangered. The milk of a whole herd is more uuiform: and the process of con densing will remove or destroy any in jurious ingredients or taints that might have beeu in the milk before it was boil ed. This kind, of condensed milk is the best for coffee, also, as it will not. dilute and weaken the coffee us common milk will. I have used it in my family for years." "It is strange," added the chemist. "that there is no law regulating the salt of impure or condensed milk, or mill not up to the standard. The laws affect ing common milk are many and :t ringen t, 1 I.:1 TfrN'wILl. A 1 '''ijpV A BRIEF WORD PICTURE OP OUR NKAREIT PLANET NEIGHBOR. IMMUIIIC Akwrt llw CIMMM Mmm« tolas mt Ifalr wm4 Matter Myttwtoaa Laaa—Th« Im Baalaa and ftevaral Otfcar little lumps of butter if it has come a the inoon is full. You must remember long distance on the cars. "Then there is another kind of con densed milk that milkmen sometimes work off on their customers when their regular supply has been soured by a thunderstorm" "Is if really a scientific fact that a thunderstorm will sour tnilk?" broke in the reporter, whose crude ideas on that point had been suffering i'or enlighten- boundary between ment for years. I the dark, that the "Yes, I think so," continued the chem ist. "At least the conditions during thunder storm are such that milk often will sour then. For ofll thing, thunder storms usually come on very hot days. Then, too, the unusual amount of ozone prevalent during a thunder storm, the present',e of nitric acid, in fact, caught in the air, washed dowu by the rain. may have something to do with the souring." but they do not applv to condensed milk, too, not of sand, but of rough, rocks. Now, here is the resale of an aualvsis 1 carven into the wildest forms, and pre liave just made of two samples of con densed milk, the first made from partly ski mined milk and the second from whole milk: Per cent Water 58.SU Fat 5.40 Sol ils not, rut 86.-10 Total 100.00 Water 87.4.1 Fat 10.S5 Solids not fat. 40.31) Total 100.(10 'You notice that the first is more than Ihalf water and contains only 5.40 per [cent, of fat yet the public couldn't tell |the difference." W hat is milk sugar?" asked the writer. 'Milk sugar is made by extraction from whey, which contains 85 per cent. )f milk sugar. It is not sweet, insolu ble in water aud will not decompose. It used a great deal in medicine, mixed rich |jepsin, for instance, and to make hiose little pills homaeopathists use. It |omes to this countrr from Switzerland, lieftv, crvstalized on thin sticks, jurt rock candy is on strings. —Boston llobe. Impart ant IIMBS, Though the moon is ao near us when compared with the other heavenly bodies,' it is atill a very long way off when esti mated by more ordinary standards. Under the most favorable circumstances our neighbor is nearly 850,000 miles away, and when viewed from so great a distance objects have to be of consider able magnitude if they are to be visible at all. A lunar mountain, even if it were as great as Mont Blanc itself, would only be shown like a tiny hillock by our mightiest telescopes. No object on the moon could be seen unless it were at least as large as a town hall or a cathe dral. Were the great pyramid of Egypt on the moon it would only seem to us as a speck, which an artist who was mak ing a sketch at the telescope would indi cate by a dot with his pencil. SIZES BY COMPARISONS. There are certain spots or marks on the moon as seen with the unaided eye with which every one is familiar. They can be best observed when the moon is full, and it. is a remarkable fact that the features exhibited by the full moon are always the same. In fact, the moon al ways turns the same face to us we are never granted a glimpse at the other side, and as to what that other side may be like neither I nor any oue else can give you the slightest information. The diameter of the moon is about 2,000 miles, from which we infer that the hemisphere which we do see has an area about double as big as the entire surface of Europe. Some of those large spots which form the features on the full moon are therefore about as large as France or Spain. These regions have a different color to the rest of the moon's surface, and the telescope shows that their floors are smoother than other tracts of lunar country. We are*certain that the surface of the moon no longer contains any visible water. It seems to have penetrated into the interior of the lunar globe at some period ages before telescopes were ever directed to the heavens. Though the ancient sea basins are the only conspicuous objects in the naked eye view of the moon, yet when the tel escope is used these features are not nearly so interesting as the craters. These are multitudes of small objects quite invisible to the unaided eye, though many of them must be a hundred miles or more in diameter. To observe these objects with advan tage we should select an opportunity when the moon is at or near the quarter. In any case we should avoid making our visit to the observatory at the time when that the moon derives its light from the sun just as the earth does. The sun il luminates that half of the moon which happens to be turned toward it, while the other half is in darkness, and accord ingly as we see more or less of the bright half we see the moon more or less full. It is along the diameter of the moon at the quarter, or at any time along the the bright part and illumination is best suited for rendering faint objects visible. NOT NICK FOR WALKING. There is one particular kind of object which specially characterizes the geog raphy of the moon. The type of this ob ject is a ring, and of these rings there are hundreds. They have been most care fully drawn on the charts of the moon, and, indeed, the great majority have had special names assigned to them. Let me try to describe what oue of these, rings would actually look like if you wereablc to stand on the moon. You would find the ring to lie a rampart of lofty moun tains, surrounding a rough and rugged interior. The diameter of this circle will range from the smallest siae that we can just discern, which will be a few hundred yards across, up to vast extents of 100 miles or eveu more in diameter, indeed, if you were standing in the center of one of the larger of these rings the range of mountains which encircled it would be invisible to you, because they would lie below your horizon. While these are the general features of the moon's geography, some others may be noted. There are, for example, lofty ranges of mountains which, in their alti tude and in their masaiveness, may be compared with our Alps or our Apen nines, iiames which, indeed, have been also applied with appropriateness to corresponding lunar objects. I imagine, however, that a walk on the moon would be attended with most frightful difficul ties from the nature of its surface alone, quite independently of other impedi ments of a still more insuperable descrip tion. The entire area of moon land a| pears to lie an utter desert—a desert, senting every difficulty to one who should try to move across such a country. Lilliputians trying to run races over a heap of bricks would. I fancy, have an easy task of it us compared with die conditions under which you or I woald try to walk upon the moon. You know how in climbing ove. an Alpine glacier the presence of a yawn ing crevasse is a difficulty which some times baffles the mountaineer. The lunar rambler will tind his way occasional! barred by a fearful chasm half a mile -more in width, descending lo a depth which his eye cannot fathom. Never in the course of his travels will he meet with uuy features resembling those with which he is happily familiar on the earth. He will never meet wifh a brook or river lie will never see a grassy Held or a tree in fact, water being now en tirely absent from th. moon, it is almost needless to add that vegetation of any sort is not to le found there, either. It follows also that there can be no auiinal life on the moon, for every animal we know of contains water as a pnrt of its organization.—Sir Koliert Ball. i&i .*,j ,77T THE BIRDS ON THE HATS. A RA1 'HER BITTER ARRAIGNMENT OP A PAD ANO ITS FRIENDS. Sataharteff Mua4ra4a tfffcamHi af Mm ta lacara Tfcalr Plaiaga KrtracU ftia DiMmt Bomaaa ta gfeaw What tha Practice Mean*. One of your esteemed contemporaries had an article recently on "Bird Plum age on Women's Heads," which is so mis leading and so favorable to the interests, of the feather dealers that, if it had been dictated by one of those get lemcn, it could hardly have been more so. Dead birds mean dollars to the feather dealer, and he would stifle the gush of song in the throat of the bobolink with as little compunction as he would crush a mosquito. It is not to be supposed that these meu are going to volunteer any information that will injure their trade on the contrary, it is their part to suppress all unpleasant facts, and to soothe and put to sleep the conscientious scruples of women on the subject of dead bird millinery. With your kind permission I will mention a few facts for the benefit of your readers which will rather disprove some previous statements. To affirm that the domestic canary is never used for millinery purposes is un true. The writer saw a hat only a short time since with five canaries upon it, ar ranged in such fantastic attitudes as to suggest the idea that the wearer was a fit subject for the lunatic asylum. Either we must believe what the feather dealers tell us, and distrust the evidence of our own senses, or we must believe what the leading ornithologists of the country tell us, and for my part 1 prefer to be lieve the latter. In 1886 the rage for dead bird millinery had reached a climax, and the ornithologists published a report showing the appalling destruction of our song birds to satisfy the demands of a barbarous and demoralizing fashion. The report says: "From carefully gath ered statistics it is proved that on the most moderate calculation 5,000,000 song birds are annually required to fill the demand for the ornamentation of the hats of American women. The slaughter is not confined to song birds everything that wears feathers is a target for the bird butcher. In a single season 40,000 terns were killed at Cape Cod for ex portation, and the swamps and marshes of Florida have been depopulated of their egrets and herons. In one month 1,000,000 bobolinks have been killed near Philadelphia, and from a single Long Island village 70,000 song birds were supplied in a short time to New York dealers for millinery purposes." The above are only a few extracts from the report, but enough to show what the slaughter has been and if song birds are not used so much now ou hats as formerly, it is owing to the re straining influence of the Audubon so ciety. This society is an outgrowth of the committee on bird protection of the American Ornithologists' union, and has members today in every state in the union and in Canada. Probably if the wearers of the plumes of the Florida egrets knew at what cost these plumes are obtained, there would be less demand for them, and as women as often sin in this matter from ignor ance and want of thought as from want of heart, it is only right they should know. A correspondent of The Audu bon Magazine (see July number, 188?) writes from Pinecastle, Fla.. as follows: "Through my meanderings I watched closely for birds and deer. I saw but a few hundred birds, where formerly I had seen from 10,000 to 20,000. I met plenty of hunters with buggies and wagons .loaded with bird plumes. The birds are killed at a season of the year when they are rearing their young. On passing the rookeries where the hunters had been a few days previous, the screams and calls of the starving young birds were pitiful to hear. Some were just fledged, while others were so young that they could make but little noise. Rut all mut in evitably starve to death. I cannot de scribe the horror it gave ine to hear the pitiful screams of the dving little birds." I think your esteemed contemporary has got rather mixed up in his ornithol ogy when lie speaks of the cedar bird as the rice bird which does so much injury to the crops In the south, so that its de struction is rather a benefit thau other wise. But I quite understand his descrip tion of "birdeffects." The way the birds are torn up, and the different parts dis tributed upon hats, would be quite iu ac cordance with the fitness of things in the mind of a savage, but it is an insult to the taste and feeling of a civilized people. On one hat is a breast without head or body, on another a decapitated head with glass eyes stares out from Itetween legs, or the bird is smashed flat.as if killed with a stone—more the position it would take iu its dying agonies than any pose it could possibly assume in life. Still, the outlook is not so discouraging as it might lie, and people are beginning to realize the necessity of more rigid laws to protect birds other than those for food. I read in The Savannah News of a re cent date: "The crane is pursued vigor ously by the hunter, who finds a ready market for the plumage, as the snow white feathers are popular with the wo men of fashion. Plumage dealers in New York have hunters regularly employed at a salary in the south, Florida, and aloug the Atlantic and Gulf coasts of the penin sula, and all through the almost impene trable lagoons and bayous of the Ever glades, who keep up the warfare upon the birds of plumage and soug all through the winter. And this fact has led to the agitation of the question whether a rigid law should not be passed to punish by fines and penalties all who are convicted of shooting any birds excepting those which are edible."—Letter in New York San. John Shaw, a prominent resident of Blooming Grove, Orange county, N. Y., died from pneumonia resulting from aa •Mack of the grip. I iiirfiniiiiiriiiriii^Tii^fi^^^^tf^Mr* ISgK^f''1"*•'" ^wapf^fcyMMN THE ROYAL BOAR HUNT. GERMANY'S EMPEROR ANO HI8 QRU NEWALO PRIENOS. Am I at |M rial Maat Which la Bald ow It Hahart'a Day, tha Third of ttowabar. A Big JoUIOcatioa, Where Only tha Journalists Are la Full Dm*. A blast is heard from the gamekeepers outside, announcing that the boar lias been loosed. Fifteen minutes more passed, and then the master of the hunt, Count Richard Dohna Schlobitten, advancing to the prince, salutes him and says: "Your royal highness, it is time for the hunt to begin." Prince Frederick Leo pold raises his hand, Herr Palm salutes, and then, lifting the waldhorn to his lips, blows along and powerful note that re-echoes shrilly throughout the castle. The hunting park is right in tlio mid dle of the Grunewald woods. A little distance from the castle is the wide and deep river Havel, along whose banks there is abundant cover. Should the boar, however, take it into his head to cross the river, he is practically safe from the hunters, for, long before they could cross in boats, he would have dis appeared in the forest. But the hounds are off on a keen scent, and as they pick up the "faehrte" of the game they give cry that tells the hunters where to fol low. Now the whole field is full chase, Hofjagerineister Graf von Dohna lead ing gallantly on his powerful black horse. Presently he turns and makes room for the ladies, for the chase is yet young, even though the joyous bark of the hounds can be heard at intervals, in dicating that they are still on the track. The prancing of some of the horses rid den by the ladies causes a delay. The emperor is exceedingly partial to Prussian horses, and this fact has set the fashion, where heretofore there were many English horses used in the hunt ing field. Our Prussion breed is slow but more enduring than the English, and in every way better adapted for the rough work of a boar chase. The supreme moment of the hunt is when the boar lies bleeding and dead and the prince's aide-de-camp with his hunting knife cuts from the nearest pine tree a bunch of needles, which the prince gaylv distributes to those who happen to be present the moment the "fang," o^. dagger stab in the lungs, "the coup de grace," is given. None who are not on the spot at the in stant of victory may share the "brucli.'* As each of the fortunate hunters places his spray of pine in his hat or coat the bugles sound the "Ilallalli! HallalM! Hallalli!" the signal of the death of the boar. This brings all the laggards to the spot, hot and breathless with riding and their horses flecked with foam. Then with liis hunting knife Iierr Palm administers the "euree" to the dead boar, cutting it open with a single dexterous stroke. One of his assistants then takes out the liver and intestines, which are flung to the pack of dogs and quickly devoured. After the chase all return to the Castle Grunewald, where dinner awaits them. Merry and hungry, chatting gayly over the successful sport, and without even an attempt at toilet, the hunters sit down, this time to a regal table. Unlike the lunch in the forenoon, which was eaten in the courtyard, the dinner is a stately and imposing affair, the sole pe culiarity being the utter absence of even the semblance of preparation on the part of the diners. They sit down just as they come in from the forest, their hunting suits torn and bloody or soiled by tumbles from their horses or contact with trees and bushes. Even the ladies look slightly bedraggled, some having their long habits and their hunting gloves stained with the marks of the chase but all are pleased, and it is a liappy party indeed which, disregarding the conventionalities, begins to do jus tice to the good cheer their imperial host sets before them. To the rider who grasped the boar be longs the honor of toasting the emperor, after the solid dishes have been disposed of. This ceremony, from time imme morial, has been done in a peculiar brew called "St. llubertus Grunewald punch." There is one unique feature of the an nual hunting dinner. For many years it has been the custom to invite as guests not to the hunt, but to the feast that fol lowed it, a dozen of the most prominent journalists of the capital. These spec tacled professional gentlemen, who would be sadly out- ol' place in a hunting field, contribute in no small degree to the entertainment of the dinner, where everybody present is supposed to help aloug the merriment in a Bohemian way. It falls to the lot. of some journalist, des ignated in advance by royalty itself, to prepare and read to the members of the Uubertus run a "agd Protokoll."' or ver sified narrative of the hunt, and this, with many other similar productions, is kept as a memorial at the «\istle. For a number of years this pleasant task was performed by the late Dr. Louis .Schnei der. The newspaper men are really the only well dressed men at the dinner. They attend in full evening costume and their elaborate toilets furnish a strange contrast to the rough, dirty suits, frowsy hair and muddy skirts of the merry fol lowers of the boar. With the emptying of the punch bowl, ami when the last shout over th»» news paper men's verses has died a way, the hunters who reside in Berlin or Potsdam begin to think of home. It is tiite dark outside the castle, but these revelers think nothing of an evening through the sotnber (ininewald wood.--, hi pairs or groups they walk ir ride homo, mak ing tlie air nierrv with their songs and laughter as they go. The ladies who do not stop over night at the castle ac company them. Every hunter carefully shows his or her bit of "hrueh." for it is a matter of custom that it must lie worn till one goes to bed. At the same time the crowds of people who spent the day on the Grunewald turn Berlin ward, and .-LA the dark wood* an mm rilnt and deserted.—Cor. Philadelphia ALL ABOUT RACCOONS. ONE OF THE ANIMALS YOU CAN'T CATCH IN A TRAP OUT OF WATER. Thajr Are Very Fnnd of Crawflah mm! Cm Ba Trapped Under Water—Haw to RmIm Him Out of a Tree—Hia Habit* in Winter, Especially the Long Past. "Did you ever hear any one say he had trapped a coon?" said P. B. Eyler, of Pittsburg, who has been spending a few days on Lake Keuka, and says that if there is anything ho knows all about it's coons. "If any one ever told you he trapped a coon in the woods he told what never hapjiened. Coons can't bo trapped except in one way. and 1 never found a coon hunter yet who knew how it was done. The coon leaves the coldest scent be hind it of any animal that lives, but it carries the keenest scent in front of it of any animal. You tuav track a coon to his home iu the crevice of some rock, which is a favorite retreat for him. You may place your trap in front of the hole, and disguise it as you may, cover it with leaves a foot deep, if you like, but that coon will never leave that hole as long as that trap is there. He will starve to death first, as I have proved on more than one occasion. He can smell the iron of that trap, and lie seems to know the danger it threatens him with. He knows it will le death to leave the hole, and he prefers death by starvation to being trapped. I have tried iron traps and snares and all sorts of devices, but could not succeed in fooling one of these wise little animals into getting caught by me, until one day a new idea struck me. It isn't often you see a coon in the daytime, unless you know where to look for them. If there is a creek in your vicinity in which crawfish are plentiful, you will be likely to discover some epi curean coon fishing for them, if you hide •at the side of the creek and keep very quiet. The coon is particularly fond of crawfish. The way he fishes for tiiem is to wade in the creek, generally going dovrn the stream. The crawfish live un der the stones on the bottom. The coon feels under each stone he comes to with his foro paws, thrusting one under on one side and the other on the other side. It is a comical sight to see a coon fishing for crawfish. He keeps his head high in the air, moving it up and down and to and fro, his eyes evidently gazing at nothing, every sense seeming to be con centrated on the business beneath the water. You can tell in a second when he has fastened on a crawfish, for the ex pression on his face changes instantly from the dull, vacant stare to one of brightness aud animation. He draws the crawfish out of the water, and, stand ing on his hind feet, rolls it smartly be tween his paws. This crushes the sly?l) and claws of the crawfish, and makes the sweet meat more accessible. The coon eats his capture with great relish, and then Ix'gins the search for another one. While watching a coon fishing iu this way one day 1 got the new idea of trap ping for coons. I thought that by plac ing a steel ti'ap under the water iu the creek where coons did their fishing they could he deceived, and more than likely caught. 1 tried the experiment. I sank two traps at differentplaceson a favorite crawfishing route for coons, aiid the same afternoon found a coon in each trap. And that is the only way you can trap a coon. 1 often hc: hunters talk alxut smok ing coons out of hollow trees where thev have been located. If they say they have done the smoking by burning straw or leaves or substances of that kind. 1 don't believe them, (,'ooti hunters in western Pennsylvania know by long experience that there is only one thing, the smoke of which will force a coon to beat a re treat from his hollow tree. You may burn leaves or straw till the cows come home, but you won't get your coon. You can hear him sneezing every little while like a man with the hay fever, but that is all the effect the stnoke will have ou hint. If you want to get your coon by smoking him out of the tree, you must take what we call a sulphur match over in western Pennsylvania. The coon hunting 6ulphur match is made by melt ing down a quantity of sulphur in a saucer and saturating a strip of muslin a few inches long and an inch or two wide in it. When you run your coon into a hollow tree all you've got to do is to put your sulphur match at the bottom of the hole and light it. ft won't be burning ten seconds bei ore Mr. Coon will pop out of his hollow as if he'd leeri shot from a catapult, and then if you don't get him it's your fault. I never read anything about the habits of the coon yet that didn't say that the animal lays up stores to subsist on dur ing the winter, and 1 never met anybody who professed to know anything about coons that didn't hold the same thing. A coon depends on stores it collects to sec it through winter just about as much as the bear does, and everybody knows that the bear goes to 6leep in his hole when the weather drives him iu. and doesn't generally wake up until spring, and so he can't eat much. The coon does the same thing, except that he will wake up now and then on some fine day and take a little stroll through the coun try. When he goes lo his winter home" he rolls himself with his nose between his hind legs, anil very close to his hams, at that, and gives himself up to oblivion. When he conies out in the spring he's as thin as a shadow. I've ,-ut down dozens of coon trees in the winter, and always found the coons in that rolled up posi tion. with not a vestige of anything to eat iu the hole. If a coon conies out on a wint?i's day and the ground is all cov ered with snow, lie will accept the inev itable a»d walk c.i: she miiw to iiis desti nation. IHH if the snow ts in patches, or lies iu .altered hanks, the coon will fol low the leading of the bare ground around the patches of snow, keepingshy iH 4 www v*-* Hifi/i&'n "A* t'VitP1 ft of all contact with than, although course may lead him mika out of Ma way. The eoon is an interesting cm on, and ia worthy of a good deal of study.—Hammondsport Cor. Now York Colorless diamonds are usually tha moat valuable, but a colored atooe with an exquisite tint fetches aa high a prios as any. TIih famous Hope diamond, which weighs about M44 troy grains, and ia said to bo worth €25,000. is of a •uperb sapphire blue color. Large dia monds of the first water are very rare, and in the whole of Europe at the pres ent time there are only five of more than 100 carats weight. (A carat is 8J grains troy.) The largest of these is tlie gem of Ine imperial scepter of Russia, which came from India. Tlie others are the Pitt or Regent dia mond belonging to the French govern ment (this was the jewel Napoleon used to wear in the hilt of his sword) the Tuscany diamond, which is now the first crown jewel of the Emperor of Austria the "Kohinoor," in the posses sion of Queen Victoria and the "Star of the South," which originally came from Brazil, and is now lying in pawn in some banking house in Paris. The dia mond, which can only be cut and pol ished by its own powder, is either fash ioned into a "rose" or a "brilliant." In the former, one portion is made flat, while the rest of the stone is carved into a faceted dome. The latter, which is always made about three times as thick as the rose, is always cut into facets, but so as to form a kind of double pyramid, with a common central base or girdle.— London Telegraph. Proverbs About Bain. When there is unusual clearness in the atmosphere, and objects are seen very distinctly, there will probably be rain. When clouds are gathering toward the sun at setting, with a rosy hue, they fore tell rain. Evening gray and morning red. Put on your bat, or you'll wet your bead. If rain commences before day, it will stop before 8 a. m. if it begins about noon, it will continue through the after noon if not till 5 p. m., it will rain through the night if it clears off in the night, it will rain the next day. If it rains before seven, It will clear before eleven. If it rains before sunrise, expect a fair afternoon. If it rains when the isun shines, it will rain the next day. If clouds appear suddenly in the south, ex pect rain. B»ln from the south prevents the drouth. But rain from the west is always best. When rain comes from the west, it will not continue long. If rain falls during an east wind, it will continue a full day. If an assemblage of small clouds spread out or become thicker or darker, expect rain. Small inky clouds foretell rain. Dark clouds in the west at sunrise indi cate rain on that day. If the sffv after tine weather becomes heavy with small clouds, expect rain.—Boston Journal. Sugar on Baw Oj-ntcn. The sallow faced Celestials in this city are more particular as regards their diet than most people suppose. One of them, who enjoys the distinc tion of being the wealthiest in town, came into a down town oyster house the other night, took his seat at the mai'ble topped table and asked the waiter for a "law." The deft, white aproned waiter stroked his smooth shaven cliin reflec tively and replied: *'A what?" "A law," repeated John, "law oysters.' "Oh, yes," and oon a plate of the tempting bivalves, reposing in their shells, lay before him. He removed the lemon and sprinkled a copious supply of sugar over them and began his attack. As he walked to the counter, paid his bill and departed, the waiter smiled aloud with a "Well, that's one way to eat oysters."—Portland (Me.) Esnreos. MINNEAPOLIS & ST. LOUIS Rail-way. A'!» THE KAMOl'S 'Albert Lea Route-' Two Through Trains Daily from St, Paul and Minneapolis To CItL±oae:o WitlKiut clmiifif, coiuiect-ins with the fast train* 1 all lines for the East and Southeast? The Direct iiml Only Line Running Thr»u Cars between Minneapolis & DesMoine* Via Albert I.ea and and Fort Dodge. 3IREC1 LIKE TO WA'EfiTOWK, DAKOTA. •2 SOLID THROUGH TRAINS S ISKfVV KEN— MINNEAPOLIS AND ST. LOUIS And the Principal cities of Mississippi Valley, connecting in Union Depots *iln all points south and southwest. MANY H0l!RSSAVED "i"™32 two trains daily to l.eav- L'AVCK CjTy mi worth uitd Ati'liison, IVrtiNOiAO V/l I I .making connections with the tnion Pacific Mtf Atchison. Topeka fi Santa Fe railways. r-#-cios»! connections made in Union Depots with all trains of the St. Paul Minneapolis A Mhiiitolci. Northern Pacific, St. Paul Ihduth railways, from and to all points north aad aortk west. Ki MEMBER The trains of the Mtiuw i|nlis & st. Louis rallway .ire rmiiiM'sed of Couifoi tat le Coaches, 11 antfl •ei't I'ltUman Slecpine Cars, Ilorton llecIintBK Chair Cars, awl our iutlv celebrated PALACE DINING CARS! ISO His of ItHsuairc tie» -d I-'KKR, Fare al ,vavs :i* low as the luwtwi. l''or Time TablML Hiri»u Ii Tickets, ei.-., call iii-on tSie nearest rict ol Airi'iit. til' wr'-te to C, H. HOLDKIDGE. Ccn'l 'I icket anil Pass. Annt. Mltinanolis Mtaa. nltj.