The new dominion. [volume], October 03, 1885, Image 1

About The new dominion. [volume] (Morgantown, W. Va.) 1876-1904

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DEVOTED TO THE INTERESTS €>P MOST ON GALIA CJOt^NTY.
VOLUME XV!.
MORGANTOWN, WEST VIRGINIA, SATURDAY. OCTOBER 3, 1886.
NUMBER 50.
Steam Job Printing
OCR JOB BKPART1BXT
nwioim
BEST EQWPPEB III THE STATE.
SOU WOU OF All DOS
SXSCfTTSD ON SHORT NOTION
PEST STYLE,
GIRLS. AS YOU GO ALONG.
Come, all you fair young housewives and
listen unto uie,
<1 mean those lucky ones, who are from
servant-bond age free,)
Awl some advice I’ll give you in a slmpls
111 tie song.
With the ami pie little chorus of—Girls, as
you go along.
O, as you go along.
Leave everything whore it should be. glris,
as you go along.
You take a fancy for a hake, late in the
afternoon,
And flour, butter, sugar, eggs, and milk, and
bowl, and spoon.
And other necessary aids, the kitchen table
throng;
Don’t let them stay, clear them away, girls,
a» you go along.
O. as you go along.
Put eac h ono back in its right place, girls,
as you«"o along.
%\nd then vou'll And how easily a great deal
con t/e done
Without your being “tired to death1* at
sotting of the sun.
And though, sometimes, in spite of care,
tiling seem to turn out wrong.
•Twill always pay to smooth the way, girls,
as you go along.
<). as you go along.
Then never leave your work behind, girls,
as you go along.
—Margaret Ky tinge, in Good Housekeeping.
OUR DEAD PRESIDENTS.
How They Died and Where They
W ere Burled.
A Short Account of the Last I>ays and
Hours of the Country's Chief Mat
JstratoH*—The Remarkable For
titude Kxlilhlted by the
Illustrious Sufferers.
General Washington, the first Presi
dent, took cold during a five hours’ ride
over his plantation on the 12th of De
cember, 17!M). during the last hours
of which he was oxposed to a sever#
storm of snow, hail, and rain. The Cold
developed on the 1:1th, and he died of
pneumonia on the 14th. A few minutes
before his death he asked his Sucretray
to have his body kept three days before
burial. The Seerotary bowed. “Do
you understand me?” the dying man
asked. “Yes,” was the reply. 'Tis
well,” Wash ngton sa d. They were
his last words. The body was buried
on the lHth, a schooner being stationed
oil Alexandra to tiro minute guns
while the procession moved from the
bouse to the vault. The troops, horse
and foot, led the wav; then came four
of the clergy, then Washington’s horse,
with h s saddle, holsters, and pistols,
led by two grooms in black; thou the
body, borne by the Masonic order (of
which ho was member), and olticors,
followed by the family and several old
friends, and the corporation of Alexan
dria. At the tomb the Rev. Mr. Davis
read the service and delivered a brief
address, after which the body was de
posited in the vault with Masonic cere
monies. Washington’s remains were
deposited in their present receptaci# in
Mount Vernon in 1837.
John Adams, the second President,
died on July 4. 182fi, the semi-centen
nial of American independence. Adams
at ninety-one possessed a remarkable
activity of mind, though his sight was
so intpa red that he could neither read
nor write. Uv April, 1.326, it was evi
dent that hp was failing, though his
neighbors in Quincy, Mass., hoped
fondly that he would be able to attend
the local Fourth of July celebration.
When, however, it became apparent
that lie could not attend in person, a
delegate! was appointed to visit him nnd
beg a last word or cheerful message.
On Juno SO the delegate called on Mr.
Adams and “spent some few minutes
with him in conversation, and took from
him a toast to be presented on the
Fourth of July as coming from him.”
“I will give you.” said he, “Independ
ence Forever!” He was asked if lie
would uot add anything to it, and ho
replied, “Not a word. At this time
id -. Adams experienced no suffering,
but respiration became more and more
difficult till on the morning of the 4th.
11c passed away calmly and without
suffering at sunset. “Thomas Jeffer
son still survives,” were the last words
he uttered, so far as could be gathered
from his failing articulation. Fie was
buried in the family vault in the ceme
tery, but upon the completion of the
l nitarian Church of Quincy, just across
tlie street, in 1828, the body was re
moved from the vault into the room be
neath the church.
Thomas Jefferson, tho third Presi
dent, died only a few hours before John
Adams. On the 3d of Julv ho dozed
hour after hour under the influence of
opiates. Rousing occasionally, ho fer
vently expressed a desire to live until
the day he had assisted to consecrate
fifty years before. At eleven o’clock at
night he whispered to Mr. N. P. Trist,
his grandchild’s husband, who sat bv
the bed: "This is the Fourth?” Mr.
Irist remained silent, being unable to
say “Not yet!” "This is the Fourth?”
again whispered Jefferson, and when
tiie watcher nodded, “Ah!” he sighed,
and ttnk into sleep with an expression
of satisfact on upon his countenance.
H - watchers thought him dying, but he
lingered until 12:40 in the afternoon,
occasionally indicating a desire bv
words or looks. “I resign my soul to
God and my daughter to my country”
is a popular version of his" last utter
nnces. His remains lie in a little in
closure to the right of a road leading
from Charlottesville, Va., to Monticello.
An obelisk nine feet high marks the
spot.
•lames Mailison, the fourth President,
and the last survivor of the signers of
the United States Constitution, died on
June 28, 183ti. During his last illness,
when the family and doctor were at
dinner, his voice was heard feebly from
the adjoining chamber: ‘'Doctor, are
you pushing nbout the bottles? Do
your duty, doctor, or I mu.-t cashier
you.” He is buried at Montpelier, four
mdes from Orange Court House. Va.
The grave is in the center of a large
field, in a lot about one hundred feet
Bijuai e, surrounded by a brick wall. On
the gate is a sign: ‘'Madison, 1820.”
James Monroe, the fifth President
and the third to die on Independence
Day, died July 4, 1831, in New York
City, at the residence of his son-in-law,
Samuel L. Ooverneur. His remains
were deposited with public boAors in
the Marble Cemetery on Second Street,
in New York, whero they reposed until
1858, when they were removed under
the escort of the Seventh Regiment,
then commanded by Colonel Abram
Duryea, to Hollywood Cemetery at
Richmond, Va. The remains rest on a
beautiful site overlooking the James
River Fails above Richmond, in a vault
of brick and granite.
John Qnincy Adams, the sixth Presi
dent, was found by death where he
could have wished its approach—in the
halls at Congress. On February 21,
1848, he asoendod the steps of the Cap
itol with his accustomed alacrity, and
took his place in the House. While
petitions were being presented, sud
denly there was a erv of "Mr. Adams!”
and a rush of members toward his scat.
He was rising with a number of peti
tions in his hand, when he was struck
with apoplexy and sank down, catch
ing at his desk and falling into the
arms of the member who sprang across
the aisle to his assistance. He was car
ried into the rotunda, then into the
Speaker’s room. He attempted to
speak, bnt his voice was a mere mur
mur, low and indistinct, though Mr.
Ashman, who was placing him on the
sofa, heaadfhim say : "This is the last
ef aarth; I am oontent.” He became
heeMOTle a| one#, and lingered, faintly
breathing, till ten o'clock on the morn
ing of the 23<1. when he expired. Mr.
Adams1 botif was removed bn the car
drawn bv white horses that, had
served for Harrison’s funeral, and
after lying in state in F/meuM !!**.!!,
Boston, was buried under the Unitarian
church nt Quincy, Mass., where his
father. John Adams, was buried
Andrew Jackson, the seventh Presi
dent. died on Sunday, June 8, 1845, at
tbe Hermitage, his famous home. For
months he had been suffering from dis
ease of the lungs, dropsy ana diarrhoea.
On the Friday previous to his death he
gave directions concerning his funeral,
and dictated a letter, his last, to the
President, bidding him act promptly
and resolutely in the affairs of Texas
and Oregon. On the morning of his
death, a brilliant, hot day, h© bade fare
well to his family, friends and servants,
whom he addressed with calmness,
strength, and even admiration on the
subject of religion, conebidihg. “I hope
and trust to meet you all iu Heaven,
both white and black,” words he re
peated again in the afternoon as the end
was coming on. Hearing the servants
on the piazza weeping, ne spoke again:
“What is the matter with my dear chil
dren? Have I alarmed you? O, dp
not cry. Be good children and We will
meet in Heaven. At si* he died, with
out a struggle Or a pang. His funeral
was attended by 3,000 people on the
Tuesday following. He is buried at the
Hermitage, on the Lebanon pike, eleven
miles from Nashville, Tenn. A massive
j monument of Tennessee gf&hite marks
[ his grave.
Martin Van Buren, the eighth Presi
dent, died at Kinderhook, Columbia
County, N. Y., on July 24, 1862, of
asthma, that developed into a painful
catarrhal affection of the throat and
j lungs. One of his last distinct utter
ances was to his clergyman: “There is
but one reliance.” He is buried in the
j little village cemetery ht Kinderhook,
in the family lot. A granite shaft fif
teen feet high marks his grave.
William Henry Harrison, the ninth
President, died in Washington City,
April 4, 1841. He rode on horseback to
his inauguration and stood bareheaded
rind without an overcoat to deliver his
inaugural, contracting pneumonia,
which was aggraved by subsequent im
prudences. His last words heard by Dr.
Washington were: “Sir, I wish you to
understand the true principles of the
Government. I wish them carried out.
I ask nothing more.” A precession
two miles in length escorted the body,
which was conveyed on a funeral car
drawn by six white horses, to its tem
porary resting place in the Congress
ional burying ground, where the Epis
copal service was read by Mr. Hawley.
His present resting place is at North
Bend, Ohio, a few yards from the track
of the Illinois Central Railroad, where
it enters the tunnel. The grave is a
simple mound, unfenced, on a little
knoll, and is shaded by beeches and
other trees. There is no monument
and no inscription any where to tell
the story of the departed hero of Tippe
canoe.
John Tyler, the tenth President, was
taken ill on Sunday, January 12, 1862,
while at breakfast at the Ballard House,
Richmond, Va,, and died at midnight
on the 17th. “Let me give you some
stimulant,” said the doctor. “I will
! not have it,” replied the dying man;
and closing his eyes he passed away.
His body lav in state at the Capitol, lie
was a member of the Confederate Con
gress, and was interred at Hollywood
Cemetery on the 21st, by Bishop Johns.
His grave is a little mound covered
with bushes, about ten yards from the
grave of Monroe.
James K* Polk, the eleventh Presi
dent, died at Nashville, Tenn., June 15,
1*49, three months after his retirement
from the Presidency. He had suffered
from diarrhoea on the journey home,
and a recurring attack proved fatal. On
his death bed Tie received the rite of
baptism at the hands of a Methodist
clergyman. He is buried at the old
family homestead at Nashville. Tenn.
Tbe monument is a block twelve feet
square by twelve in height.
General Zachary Taylor, the twelfth
President, attended the Fourth of July
ceremonial in Washington City in 1850,
when the dust from Kosciusko's tomb
was deposited in the Washington monu
ment, and endured for several hours the
heat of the day, which he declared was
worse than any he had experienced in
Mexico or Florida. Going home, he in
sisted on eating freelv or unripe cher
ries and drinking cold water and iced
milk, despite the remonstrances of his
servant. This brought on an attack of
cholera morbus, followed by typhoid,
of which he died on the 9th. An im
posing procession accompanied his re
mains to the Congressional Cemetery.
His remains have been removed three
times, and now repose in a public spot
at Frankfort, Ky.
Millard f illraore, the thirteenth
President, died at Buffalo, N. Y.,
N. Y.. on Maroh 8, 1874, and after
lying in state at St. Paul’s Cathedral,
the remains were buried at Forest Lawn
Cemetery, three miles from Buffalo. A
tall monument boars the inscription:
"Millard Fillmore. Born Jan. 7, 1800;
died March 8. 1874.”
Franklin Pierce, the fourteenth Presi
dent, died on Friday, October 8, 1869,
at the residence of Mr. Willard Will
iams, Concord, N. H., of dropsy and
inflammation of the stomach. For the
last three days of his life he was nearly
unconscious, and died without pain.
His body lav in state at Doric Hall and
was buried in the Minot Cemetery, on
Main Street, on the 11th. The Pierce
lot is at the northwest corner of the old
cemetery, and contains about an acre
of ground. It is surmounted by a neat
iron fence six feet high. The monu
ment is of Italian marble, surmounted
by a draped cross, and its total height
is fourteen feet eight inches.
James Buchanan, the fifteenth Pres
ident. died at Wheatland, near Lancas
ter. l’a., on June 1, 1868, after an ill
ness of one month. On the night before
his death he gave detailed directions for
his funeral and the erection of his
monument, dictating the inscription, a
a blank to be left for the date of death,
"which cannot be distant,” he said.
His last authentic words, as he sank
Into the sleep in which he died, were:
“O, Lord God Almighty, as Thou wilt.”
His funeral took place bn the 4th. the
exercises being conducted by Dr. Nevin,
President of Franklin and Marshall
College, ai) immense concourse being
present. He is buried at Woodward
Hill cemetery, Lancaster, on the banka
of the Conestoga. The lot is enclosed
by a neat iron fence. All around the
fence is a hedge of blooming roses, and
rose bushes are planted in the enclo
sure. A fine sarcophagus of Italian
marble marks the grave.
Abraham Lincoln, the sixteenth
President, died by the hand of John
Wilkes Booth, in Washington, April
15, 1865. Nine of the persons sup
posed to be implicated suffered condign
punishment. The funeral honors paid
to the deceased Chief Magistrate, were
of the most elaborate character. His
remains are buried at Oak Ridge Ceme
tery, Springfield, 111. A fine pile of
marble, granite and brouze marts the
spot It bears the single word, “Lin
coln."
Andrew Johnson, the seventeenth
President, died suddenly at Greenville.
Tenn., on Saturday, July 31, 1875, and
was buried with Masonic ceremonies on
the 3d of August. His grave is at
Greenville. Tenn., on a spot selected bv
himself. The iiionumeut is of marble,
upon a base of granite, nine and a half
by seven feet. The tomb was erected
by the President’s three sunriring sons.
Jamie* A. foarfieM. the twpntietb
Pi*esi<lent, wa= assassinated in the Bal*
t more and Potomac railroad depot in
Washington city, on July 2, 18*1. by
Charles Arid died of his wound
September 19, at Elberon, near I^one
Branch, N. J Funeral services took
place in Washington on triday,
September 23, and the remains wefe
then transferred to Cleveland, Ohio,
where they were entombed September
26. A handsome mausoleum for their
reception is now in course of erection
at Cleveland.
General Grant, the eighteenth Presi
dent, died at Mt. McGregor. N. Y.,
July 23, 1885. The details of the death
and magnificent funeral of the great
soldier are still fresh in the minds of
All. — Baltimore Sun.
AN UNDESIGNINO WIDOW
Beguiled by the Machination* of flei
Thirteen-Year-Old Daughter.
The “evidences of design” in the bn
man widow have been so much dwell
upon, in fiction and satire, that it is s
relief to turn to a tale in which her ns
scntially simple and trustful ilitili'e if
set forth Such a tale was told touch
ing a widow in Easton, Penn., who was
beguiled, by the machinations, not ol
man, but of her own female child, aged
thirteen.
Tho child, as our readers have noted,
was in the habit of visiting a widower’s
large brick house, presumably to play
with the widower's children, when it
occurred to her to extract money from
her own mpther, under pretense of
making love to her in the ostensible be
half of the widower, in letters "written
with a lead pencil” by herself. The
inventions she employed for this pur
pose were such as would naturally
occur to a person of her years and in
experience. She wrote, in the name ol
the widower, for fiftoon dollars to help
nay the men in the widower’s employ,
for money to buy the widower a tur
key, to pay the widower’s gas bill, and
to pay for the keep of tne widower’s
horse. These crude demands for money
were accompanied by professions of at
tachment not less crude, such as the
childlike device of addressing the Widtjw
as “My Dear Wife.”
These are the devices which a child
of thirteen would naturally adopt. The
wonder is not that the child adopted
them, but that the mother was taken in
by them. Her first husband must have
been a prosaic and literal soul whose
speech was tic* transparent vestitre of
his thought, and she must have rashly
generalized from him to his sex. but
what a fund of simple faith in mankind
must this undesigning widow have ac
cumulated when it could be drawn upon
with success and without limit by such
artiheos as these.
Her daughter did not take after the
widow. She was the confidence child
of a confiding mother. We should not
oven criticise the crudity of her applica
tions for money since they were suc
cessful. Like authors whoso produc
tions are sneered at by the critics and
devoured by readers, it must be ad
mitted in her favor that she knew her
public and adjusted her means to her
ends. Of the principle of fraudulent
finance she had a precocious mastery.
It, is the same principle employed by
Kerdinand Ward and Mrs. Howe, of
boston, and is involved in the familiar
process of “priming a pump” or ad
ministering a driblet in order that a
copious stream may flow. She ac
knowledged in the name of the wid
ower in the form of casual clocks and
occasional vases the widow’s bounty,
and upon ono occasion, as an unim
peachable guarantee of good faith, pro
duced a plain gold ring, which, it may
be assumed, was the ultimate object of
the widow's investment. In this man
ner site gradually extracted from her
mother $300, and without doubt rejoices
in a larger collection of pink ribbons
and cheap jewelry than any other child
in Easton. The simple faith of the
mother’s character shines the more by
contrast with the guile of her daughter.
So free is she irom the subtle and
scheming character falsely ascribed bv
literary persons to the estate of widow
hood that she is plainly an easier prey
for male deceivers than her precociously
accomplished child.—N. ¥. Times.
A FINNISH CUSTOM.
How the People of That Russian Province
Indulge In Their Annual Bath.
“In crossing the country I noticed
that near every farm or settlement
there was a small log hut with openings
all darkened by smoke, and on asking
what it was always received an answer
that it was the savna.
“The savna is in fact the common
bathroom of the farm and sometimes of
the neighborhood. Every Saturday the
savna is used by the whole family, the
servants of the farm, and any guests
that may be desirious of participating.
A huge log fire is lit on a hearth in the
room, and when the bricks or stones
are red hot cold water is poured on
them, which soon fills the room with
steam. When all is ready the bathers
gather of both sexes and all ages,
simply in the state in which we are told
our first progenitors disported them
selves, and this even if the mercury is
frozen to a lump in the bulb. When
the room is full fresh water is ponre 1
on the stones, and the bathers begin t >
belabor each other with birch tw gs, a i
operation which has about the same
effect as rubbing down the nude form
by a hard brush and a powerful hostler
would have. The proceedings are
naturally carried on under a great deal
of fun from the younger members of
the company. When the bath is over,
and a profuse perspiration has been
caused by the whipping and the steam,
the whole company adjourn to the snow
outside, in which another bath takes
place. This over, the bathers adjourn
to various directions in the same cloth
ing they came. I had many opportuni
ties of witnessing this spectacle on my
lengthy journey into the heart of Fin
land.”—Sophos Trombolt.
Papier Mache Plaques.
Papier mache plaques for advertising
purposes are becoming common. It Is
the latest instance of how art has been
subserved to business purposes. The
work can be given the appearance of a
number of substances, such as stone,
metal or wood, and some of it is of a
high grade of excellence. The materi
als are few .n number, exclusive of those
used in finishing, being clay, plaster of
paris and rough brown paper, such as
is used in hardware stores for wrapping
purposes. The clay is employed in the
first or artistic stage of tne work, in
modeling of the figures or designs to be
reproduced in papier mache. The plas
ter of paris is use 1 to make the mold *
and the paper is the basis of the finished
product. The design being made in
clav, the plaster is poured over it, and
what might be called a negative pro
duced. Upon each of the negatives ot
molds the paper is built up until a
proper thickness has been secured
Then the pulp is allowed to dry In the
sun or is dried by means of artificial
beat, when it is removed from the moh .
At this stage it appears like rougl*
stamped leather. After the edges ha\.»
been trimmed and the surface smoothed .
paints and bronze powders are applie.l
until the desired effects are prodticc< •
The work throughout requires gre: i
skill and in the first and last Miges a: •
tisfcio talent of no small order.—.V, j
Mail awl J£torts*
LADIES' PETS.
m« Oottlr Jewell Worn by Dip Whleh
l>«*n’t Appreciate the Honor.
She sailed like a saucy yacht before a
half gale into a weli-knpwn uptown
Jewelry 3tort. She carfied Undef her
arm a bunch plift
placed upon the glass counter m front
of a shrinking, timid youth, showed
signs of life, and let out a spiteful yelp
that could only come from the throat of
a disgusted dog. After adjusting the
wrinkles in her face so that a far-sized
scow1 appeared, she turned right about
ami looked the light-haired clerk squirfi
ir. the face, while a glean.-of spite and
anger shot from her steel-gray eyes.
“I^id not I tell you, sir, to be extremely
Careful about the size of the ring that
you measured for mv little Zip? Look
at that, .you double-dyed villain,” as
she pointed to a small inflamed spot
upon the dog's left leg. ‘ That’s all
your work, and woe unto you, sir, if
mj poor little treasure is kept awake
any more *t nigh* by yriur horrible stu
piuity. You are sure the ring was all
right and that my darling has probably
got the mange? Well, sir, that settles
your case. 1 was not going to mako
any further complaint. Now I'm oil
for headquarters, apd she doubled tip
heir skirts, seized her "darling” and
started double-quick for the main office.
In a few moments she came out of the
office with the manager, and he walked
with her to her carriage. The wrinkles
were pushed aside, an apeient smile
faintly gliitimered through her drug
store complexion and the oil of con
tentment had been poured upon her
outraged feelings,
“What was the trouble with your
customer?” the manager was asked, as
he walked into the store. . "Was she
one of the crftnk .species?” "Well.”
said the manager, “if yon call a person
a crank who thinks more of a dog than
a child, then she is one. and the class
of which she is a fair specimen is by no
means small. The whole trouble arose
from a mistake made in measuring her
dog’s lorr for a bracelot. After the ani
mal hail worn it a few t.ipios it became
tight, and in removing it the skin was
si ghtly abraded. Why do I say that
she thought more of her dog than her
child? Well, my judgment is based
upon a commercial transaction. She
came in here about two weeks ago with
one of the prettiest children I ever saw
and bought a ring for the little on<). It
chat #2 75, wRile she paid .fib for a
bracelet for that yelping cur.”
“Is there much of a trade In animal
•rnaments?”
“Well, yes, though at present there
is not much doing, because the people
who buy those thiugs are out of the
city. Just before the opening of the
summer resorts our trade bad a wonder
ful boom, and it would have surprised
one who had not been initiated to see
tho valuable ornaments that were
ordered for pets. The trade, however,
has not been as good this year as it
was last, probably because the line of
mwelry worn by each animal Wait full.
Thii business began six or seven years
ago and jumped into full swing when,
at one of the animal dog shows, a pug
was exhibited with a beautiful pair of
bracelets upon its fore legs. The
ladies were overcome bv the gnawings
of envy, and hastened to adorn their
pugs in the same way. Some even
went so far as to have the ears of their
dogs p'flrced, and daintv little ear
drops suspended therefrom. A philan
thropic spirit started tho storv that
this practice interfered with the dog’s
hearing and was a mild method of
torture, and it has now fallen into
disuse.
“However much the owners may
admire the appearance of their be
spangled pets, I have yet to find the
dog that feels elated when jewelry is put
on him. Dogs usually try to tear these
things off with their paws or gnaw
them off. These ornaments are bot
confined to oraeelets, but include col
lars—-plain, jewelled, or with artistic
ally engraved monograms—expensive
blankets and embroidered wraps. They
are ordered for dogs of every s;ze and
species, but more frequently for dogs
that might be termed pets. The prices
paid are various, but are always high,
because nearly every order provides for
a special design, and the patterns and
settings, if jewels are used, have to be
specially prepared. I know of one
lady who owned a fine png and terrier.
She had a fancy that they would look
well in double harness, and ordered a
I set to be mado after a pattern that she
i had drawn on paper. It was an elabor
ate affair, studded with gems, and a
! model of beauty when complete. She
) counted out $250 for it without a mur
mur!”—N. T. Tribune.
THE HORNET.
Deftcriptlon of an Interesting: Insect—A
Creature Whose Advent Is Marked by
| Stern Reality.
Tho hornet is an abridged edition of
j bloody murder strained through a rag.
He boars the same relation to John
| L. Sullivan that condensed milk does
to a cow.
In constructing the mule-end of the
hornot. Jove sharpened a streak of
lightning on the cheek of a Chicago
drummer and dipped it in the gall of
a campaign lie.
It will not do to confound the hornet
with the bee. The hornet is clad in the
mantle of a more mysterious individu
ality, and on his brow rests a diadem
of baleful gloom. He has a oneness
of character that is unknown to the
bee.
The bee is not without a touch of
sweetness and light, but the sweetness
of the hornet seems to have been
spoiled in the making.
The coming and the going of the bee
: are mellowed by poetic associations.
She is proverbial for industry- The
victim of the bee can salve his hurt by
quoting Watts.
It is not thus with the hornet. His
coming is a stern reality, and his going
is lost in the murky atmosphere of pro
fanity, if not more so.
The hornet is the cowboy of the in
sect world:
The offensive partisan of entomologi
cal wingedness;
The winged essence of volcanic
energy;
The breach-loading paper wad ol
viewless fire.
On dainty wings of lightning he reels
off an infinitesimal ooil of gigantic pain,
and in his pistol-pocket he carries a red
hot stove.
A political discussion is the supreme
aggregation of explosive enthusiasm;
The ten-strike of an angry mule is a
supermundane earthquake;
The yowl of a tom-cat is tangled
confusion of wall-eyed sound;
But the caress of a hornet is brim
stone fire with a stick in it—Chicago
Ledqer.
—Which is the diamond wedding*
The twenty-fifth is the silver anniver
sary and the fiftieth the golden, as all
agree. But, while in America we add
twenty-five vears to the fifty to find the
time of the diamond anniversary, they
act in England as though it comes with
the completion of the seventieth year of
married life. Richard Wortley and
Elizabeth, his wife, wedded at tho very
time the guns were booming at Water
loo, recently celebrated their seventieth
marriage anniversary at Sheepshead,
England, and the papers there allnde
to it as a diamond wedding.—Phiiadtl
*Me Prosa
PARTINGTON AT HOME.
B. r. 8hl!l*b«r. thV Huuiortat, M 0a
to S«*«*o »t Clitlira, Mass.
“I never call a man old until he gets
to be an octagon or a centurion.” said
B P. Sbillaber (Mr*. Partington) to a
friend who was CongfittillsUin^ hittl dp
an having mat day reached the gocfd
age of seventy.
“Unless it shouM ba foreordained be
forehand in advance,” playfully rejoined
his friend, “that he should survive his
factories and become idiomatic before
that time.'*
The genial b»im >r'»t was sealed in his
favorite rdorti, *?hit*H iff tbe.se later years
has confined h m for mouth" fit 0 tirtte^
But few of h;8 many callers would <lream
•f this fact. The ever hearty welcome
Which the? receive and the absence of
any personal compiaitdr*<J Aertninly do
not hint of the severe pain which *
frequent vis;tor. Only the crutch in the
corner suggests it. There looked out
from the painting on the wall the ro
guish face of Ike. “the prodigal of vir
tue;41 the very same ,J$e who caused
Mrs. Partingron to wcnd^tr whv hq
“didn’t get a medal, for certainly a
more meddlesome boy she never knew,’1,
although, at the same time, she dared
to hope that with “judicial tra ning he
might yet become a useful membrane
of society.” Od tne Shelf below thq
painting was Sidney Morse’s fine
statuette of the humorist. The writing
desk, which had done him faithful
service for fully twenty-five years, stood
opposite.
Ovet* the writing desk, on ft book
shelf, were what he Called His
which had an interesting family history,' I
a Shakspeare and a Webster’s Diction
ary There was a twinkle in his eye
when he remarked that through these
he Showed his loyalty to the “angular
Saxons.” Upon being Asked #HeW ijU
own books were, he naively repled that
he “kept them in another room out of
sight.” Speakingofthese.it is pleas
ant to know that the first copy of each
one of them he inscribed to the one
•rho for forty-five years was a true and
loving helpmeet, whom death claimed
some two years sinccj, leftviiig hint
alone but for the bright, helpful pres
ence of an unmarried daughter, who
has now the sole charge of his house,
and is a daily elixir which any man
might envy.
Uufortunately, Mr. Sbillaber is not as
“rich as Creosote” and never has been.
He has longed “to have a villa n in the
country ana become ftti amatory farmer
under the canister of heaven.” But he
has surely illustrated, jn his life find in
his works, a quality of mind which not
even Croesus’ money could buy, that
“it is better to speak paregoricaily of a
person than to bo all the time Hinging
epitaphs at him.”
In the confinement which is now
more or less his he is ever interested in
the outside world. His interest in poli
tics is as fresh as when he was a young
man, before he “inherited the gout
from his wife’s ancestors.” He is
rooted and grounded in the principle of
a true Democracy. The Bostdtl
which first introduced him as Mrs. Par
tington, is still a welcome daily visitor.
But in talking with him on political
matters no one can help thinking of
poor Paul, the corporal of the Bloody
7th. “who was inclined to politics,
but wasn’t a propergander nor an oily
arc.hist, nor an averit onist, nor a demi
god; all he wanted, was an exSrfiiSC of
of h s sufferings and the use of his elect
ive French eyes.”
Mr. Shillaber’s interest in his friends
is frequently shown in the apt impromp
tus which unexpectedly greet them.
As an instance, with a copy of Brown
ing’s “Agamemnon and Dramatic
Idyls,” which, one Christmas time, he
sent as a present, he wrote on the fly
leaf:
"A Merry Christmas, I send with this,
'Though It seems absurdity crowning
To wish for cachintttory blls*
Over the works of Browniu£.
The many rhymes of his, which have
added pleasure to festive occasions, are
growing fewer and fewer, and in his
home in Chelsea his thoughts turn
oftener than formerly to the unknown
country. As he says himself, he is now
living on borrowed time. — Chelsea
(Mass.) Cor. Philadelphia Press.
CHINESE EXPORT TRADE.
M«r
How It U Controlled by Mongolian
eh ants.
The export trade of the Pacific coast
with China, which a few years ago was
controlled by white merchants, is now
practically in tho hands of the Chinese,
whose facilities have increased with their
growing knowledge of trade in this
country. White men who now figure in
our commercial relations with the
Flowery Kingdom are in many cases
acting only as agents of Chinese firms
or individuals. The manifests of all
the shipments from this port to China
for the quarter ended June SO, 1885,
furnish a fair picture of the present
condition of the export trade. The total
merchandise shipments to China by
white houses for the quarter appear to
have been $281,273.49. This includes
all shipments from the east, as em
braced in the exports, nominally, by
the two China steamship lines or their
agents, which together exported mer
chandise valued at $163,901.57. The
great part, in fact, nearly all of the
shipments nominally by the steamship
lines are outside of Californian pro
duction, the bulk being sheetings,
ginseng, and arms and ammnnition.
The remainder of the $281,273.49. or
$117,371.92, must be reduced by de
ducting shipments by white persons
who nominally ship for themselves, but
who are known to other shippers as
agents for Chinese, to the amount of
$43,357.81. This leaves the statement
for merchandise exports for the quarter
named as follows: Direct by Chinese:
$541,915.74; by white agents of Chinese.
$43,357.81; total, $585,278.57. The
merchandise exports by whites are as
follows: By transportation companies,
$168,901.57; bv local business houses.
$74,014.11; total; $237,915.68. This
shows the Chineso to have had control
of about three-fourths of the business
for the quarter. During the quarter
Chinese business houses sent out of the
country 'treasure amounting to $913,
507.55 to Hono; Kong. The banks of
California, Anglo-Cultfornian Bank, and
Hong Kong and Shanghai banking cor
poration also sent to Hong Kong over
$2,000,000. The largest item of export
is flour, and the flour trade between this
port and China is generally known to
be controlled by the Chinese. Some
authorities state that ninety per cent,
of the export trade hence to Chines?
ports is controlled by the Chinese mer
chants. This condition of affairs tends
to show that the local curse of China
town is only a small part of the Chinese
question, and the ease with which the
Chinese absorb business has made them
masters of the situation, so far as the
export trade with their country is con
cerned.—San Francisco I 'hronicle.
—A Nevada court held that a man
who had five dollars in his pocket and
his board paid for a w iek ahead is “a
capitalist" within the meaning of the
law.
—There are in Kngland 187 ragged
schools which are attended by 60,00
children.
—A new wax of value has been found i
in tbs bark of the oeotillie, a thorny I
Blent of Mexico.
STANLEY HUNTLEY.
TN« fmloB «f th* S#vfrinf of Hi* Coa
nertton with the Now York Tribune.
Stanley Huntlev. the dead humorist,
as has already been stated in these
oolumns, began his professional life as
a lawyer. Whan he was a young man
he torflt upon the Tribune local
staff. There is ai. old st«r» eonaertling
the manner in which he tericihifted lii?
this Connection, which is more or less
untrue- From M* H rant ley the writer
obtained the following trio cession of
the affair: (5uo day, finding the legal
profession unremuherative, ne iippleii
to Mr. Moore, of the Rural Sew 1 orket.
who was then the city editor of the
IwwtK, for k situation. He was given
a trinil. When he bronghf in his cdpv
at the end of the first u»v We noticed
that Mr. Moore sent it upstairs' iuttf the
composing room by an elevator in the
wall. Th" secondifity he was sent to
report a meeting of th£ ?atiirer‘# Chib;
which then as now met in the t oopcf
Institute Building. This particular
meeting happened to be singu
larly prolific In stirring inoi
'Jefff* , I Contrary to their general
rule, the metifo^r* Ws-atpo mixed
tip in a quarrel over a new breed of po
tatoes and used strong and picturesque
language in pursuing their arguments.
With a qit’ek perception of the ludicrous
H.utjt'ev, seized upon the salient feat
ures of the nicotiffg yith avidity, and
when he appeared at the TfiRttn" office,
early that evening he had a column and
a half of br.liiant descriptive writing,
in which he gave the humorous points
of the affair it) their strongest light.
l?Kf tiff /ling Mr Moore in, ho walked
over to (be elevffto^- as he had seen
him do, and sent the oopy Upstairs to
the printer-. When the nignt hditdr
came to make up the forms he saw the
matter in type, and taking it fot
granted that it had come up stairs in
the regular way,- gave it a prominent
place in the morning fiapef.
When Mr Huntley picked wj>’ a flop*
of the Tribune that morning anil saw
his article on the first page exactly as
he had written It, his bosom swelled
with pride. At noon he sauntered
down to the office with tile feelings of a
hero.
“I shall be," said be to himself, “the
managing editor of this paper iu a fort
night. I have struck the right Vocation
at last."
When he entered the city room he
noticed a smile spread over the otliei
reporters’ faces, but attributing it |j<)
jealousy he calmly seated himself at Ills
desk. In a few minutes Mr. Moore
called Him and said that Mr. Greeloy
wanted to see him.
Swelling with pride and casting H
look of triumph around the room the
young reporter walked out of the office
into Mr. Greeley’s room. The door was
closed. He rapped gently.
“Come in,” responded a shrill fnlscttn
voioe.
Mr. Huntley did so. Mr. Greeley was
seated at his desk. He waited patiently
until he finished. Then the old gentle
man wheeled around in his chair and
said:
“Well, Si*, what can I, do for yon?”
•‘Von sent for me, sir?"
“For you? What is your name?"
“Stanley Huntley.”
“Oh! So you are the blamed fool who
wrote up that Farmers’ Club?”
The hopes of the future humorist ex
)>erlenced a suddeu decline. He would
new he satisfied with the city editor
ship.
"Why did you do it?"
"They acted disgracefully, sir.”
“Yes. I know it; but what did you do
with your oop.v?”
“I didn’t copy it, sir," returned Mr.
Huntley, with iiignity, “I wrote it all
myself/”
"What did you do with your manu
script?”
“I shoved it in a hole in the wall and
whistled twice.”
“Toting man, how long have been on
the press?”
"Twenty-four hours, mr-”
“Well, Sir,” said the editor, a twinkle
coming into his eves. “ydu didn’t know,
of course, what the rules of our office
are. But you oughtn't to have written
that report, indeed you dughtn’t to. Ol
course they are a pack of fools. They al
ways have been, but you shouldn’t have
have said so in the Tribune.. Young
man, I’m the President of that club "
—N. Y. Graphic.
RARE COINS.
, Articles Which aro Sure Sometimes to be
Worth More Than Th lr Nominal
Value.
A Bolivian dollar or an Indian rupee,
or a half-sovereign after very hard
usage, may possibly deteriorate in
value. But save under exceptional cir
cumstances, there is no getting more
for a crown, or a mark, or a Napoleon,
or a gold eagle than the sum inscribed
on its face. Even the Mexican dollar
has ceased to be held at a premium,
and gold is still plentiful enough for
the time to be far distant when, as used
to be the case so far as guineas went, it
will take thirty shillings to purchase a
sovereign. But when the tyro in
numismatics reads the pr ces which
some old Engl sh coins brought, he
may be pardoned if his ancient faith in
the determinate worth of the currency
is seriously shaken. We hear on every
side of hard times and the depression of
trade. Yet the merchant whose balance
is on the wrong side of the ledger must
eipmencc a searching of heart when
he is told that there are plenty of peo
ple ready to give £10 for a penny a
thousand years old. £30 for a half
crown of Queen Elizabeth, and £233 for
a half George noble of Henry VIII.,
which some years before had been bought
for the sum of three and sixpence. A
milled three-farthing piece brought over
twenty guineas, and even a bad
shilling of Edward VI., instead of get
ting the "utterer” or anybody else into
trouble, was eagerly purchased for over
£11. It is clear, therefore, that what
ever may be the case in other branches
of commerce, the traffic in this costly
kinds of goods is much brisker than the
humble collector might desire. Of late
the holders of pictures, enamels, pot
tery, and similar kinds of brittle ware,
have become rather alarmed over the
diminished prices which such articles
have -brought in auction rooms. Not
unnaturally the scarcity of money
among those who were a few years ago
the rich people of England has been set
down as the cause of this “shrinkage in
value.” No doubt this is to a limited
extent true. Blit when the collector
can afford to gratify bis taste in the
expensive fashion above shown, the
optimist is justified in clinging to his
fancy. It must be consoling to him >c
note that £20. £30 and £50 were eagerly
bid for objects which are in themselves
of only a modest intrinsic value, and
which entail ip their safe-keeping an
amount of anxiety that is dearly repaid
by the pleasure oi possession.—London
Standard.
—The Pike’s Peak Railway, which is
expected to be in operation this year,
will be the most notable pieoe of track
in the world. It will mount 2,000 feet
higher than the Lima and Oroya Rail
way in Peru. It is now in operation to
a point over 12,000 feet above the sea
level. The entire thirty tui'es of its
length will be a succession of compli
cated curves and grades, with np pieoe
of straight track longer than 300 fast.
Okioago Mail
SCHOOL AND CHURCH.
—The Presbytery ot £an Francisco
has organised a Presbyterian Church
whose members consist entirely of Jap
anese Christiana, resident in the city.
—There w §•»<! to be not a single
evangelical missionary H> the whole
valley of the Amazon, and that a gospel
sermon has never been preached in all
that territory.—N. Y. Yost.
l>r. W. U. Davis, pastor of the
XiArtx Baptist (colored) Church,of Louis
ville. Ky., bffet QMtgnad At tbs request
of his Congregation, #bO alleged that
be did not preach loud enotlgb nor with
sufficient fervor to make them happy.-*
JiOuisville Courier-Jourmil.
-—Among those who have joined t;he
Roman Catholic Church since the be
ginning of the Oxford movement are
enumerated 36 lords, 26 baronets, 30*2
graduates of Oxford, 149 graduates of
Cambridge, H'J army officers. 92 law
yers, 4H doctor* Ira 1.014! ladies of
aristocratic stations.
—Rev. N J. Cushing. D.D., of Buf
mah, arrivdd Saif Franc sou a few
days since. It is about twenty years
since he left this country for tne lifts
•ionary field, and nine year- since hit
first return. He has done a great work
ip the translaton for the Shan people ot
the eiftire Word of GodL—Ar. Y. In
dependent.
—Irreverent jokers pift d gMlhn* ol
whisky into the baptistry of an Indian#
church, after the water had been fixed
for the immersion of a reformed
afdrikftrd Hut their trick was turned
to serious account by M>e victim, who.
standing on the edge of the frtuk in his
dripping robe, described the outrage 11
the congregation and delivered a ring
iqg speech for total abstinence.—In
diana] ml is Journal«
’i'he great defect even of our best
teachers, and clergy mt well, is thii
living in a rut. No mat! of Wifnidri fa
great or good enough to dispense With
the broadening and Imneticent iutlueuce
of every day physical nature and the
mighty University of human life. So be
wise, atm u#e fife golden hours for
thorough ventilation di rnibd imagina
tion, Sympathies, sense and SduI.-“
Journal oj Education.
—In England a parent can be prose
cuted for the non-attendance of his
fihild at school, and children must bring
the penrty School fee every Monday.
The father oi a child wlto did not. bring
his penny on two successive Mf/rtda^s
was sunimo'neil for “non-attendance,
and the Lord FWicf Justice hehl that the
attendance of a child tfithbufc the fee
constituted no attendance under thtiby
laws of the School Board.
—The system carried out in Vienna
ftit educating girls is certainly worthy
of ndtlce. They are kept at their studies
until they arc fiftdeft year* of age. They
thon go through a course 6f ton.dhifig in
the pantry and the kitchen under some
member of the family, or sometimes un
der trained cooks for a year or two
year*. Tims they learn to do every
thing themselves, hud t« know the val
ue of things long before they commence
house-keeping on their own acoefunt;
and though they may never bo required
to cook a dinner, they become inde
pendent of cooks and servants.—N. Y.
Hurt.
PUNGENT r*AtfAGPAPHS.
—For truly deep feeling let me call
your attention to a negro waiter who
has to stand by while the hotel guest
whom ho is serving eats watermelon.—
Utiea Observer.
—Ode Cause of the throat and lung
trouble in tffis country is the fact that
all of us sing so much and stf sweetly.
Neither the throat nor the lungs were
intended to Stand such strains. — Detroit
Free Press.
—Sweet nuisance—“No; thd scene of
•The Mikado’ is not laid in Ireland. It
isn’t pronounced that way, anyhow.
See here! Ain't you the girl that
Asked us if ragout was the French for
putting on your best clothesP"—Boston
Pbst .
—Enraptured young woman, gazing
upward (to ydung newspaper man) —
What a wonderful thing is space?
iJo you ever contemplate its im
mensty? Young newspaper man —
Indeed, I do. I have a column of it to
fill every day.—N. Y. Bun.
—An exchange asks: “Why wasn’t
the spring ch okes chosen as an em
blem of this country?" We can not
answer with any degree of exactness,
but suppose the fathers of tile country
were not familiar with antediluvian
ornithology. — Boxbury Advocate.
—It is reported that the maple, here- ’
tofore a healthy tree, is dying of a '
mysterious disease. This is nature’s
way of removing what is no longer of
Use. since dealers in "maple sugar"
now sell a compound composed largely
of the settling of molasses casks.—Bos
ton Traveller.
- -Verasopht—You are looking charm
ing to-night, Estelle. Estelle—Charm
ing Ls too cold a word. Verasopht—
Then I’ll call you “lemons.” Estelle—
Lemons, sir! Do you mean to insult
mo? Verasopht—Sly darling, you do
not lead the papers or you Would know
that lemons are very, very dear.—Phil
adelphia Call.
— A California chap has caused the
arrest of two young ladies, who, he al
leges, waylaid and robbed him. As he
is a dude who has neither, money nor
brains, it Ls difficult to decide what they
could steal from him. Perhaps they
wanted to measure his head so they
could get a pattern for a pincushion.—
Newmaii Independent.
—“What fine evenings these are for
studying natural history.’’ “Yes.”
“Last night about sunset I was struck
bv the similarity between ray six-year
old and the house-flies. I was trying to
drive the flies out of the house and coax
the boy in. They all moved at pre
cisely the same rate of speed and with
just the same amount of dodging.—
Chicago Tribune.
—“My dear Mr. Fitzsniffle. Miss
Jones and I hare had quite a discussion
and we have agreed to let you decide.
Which is entitled to the palm of excel
lence, Keats or Shelley?'
“Well, weally. Miss Brown, I would
rather not undertake to decide that
question. My acquaintance with both
the gentlemen is very limited. The
fssit is, they don’t belong to my set, you
know.—Milwaukee Bentmel.
How io Eat a Watermelon.
To be properly enjoyed the perfect
watermelon should be pounced on in
tbe patch just after sun' up. It should
be carefully selected, tu response to
an eager thump there should follow a
dead and meaty sound add the melon
should weigh not less than twenty
five pounds. After it is pulled it should
be split from end to end with a short
bladed pocket knife, so t^ist in tearing
it open the glowing and jkiioy heart,
bursting loose from its confinement,
should find a lodgement on one side
only. At this point the knife is to be
Hung away. For a moment the eye
should be allowed to feast itself on the
vision thus suddenly brought to vie^.
then the heart should be scooped out
with the hand and its neotarious meat
thrust upon the hot and tbirsty palate.
There ought to be something savage in
the enjoyment of a watermelon; it
ought to be crushed and swallowed
with avidity. The man who krows
how to enjoy one will eomd away Mom
tbe fray with the sweets in his beard,
la his hair ajhd on his clothes. -allsaM
<'omiitution. -
FOB OUR YOUNG FOLKS.
SIR GILES.
Lift)* Sir Giles, when h wee l*aby tnlte.
Was always so proper, so very polite.
That older ones of* were rebuked by his frown
If one of them ventured t*» aet like a elown
He was playful aiul merry. never wa*
Wor into your presence would ever Intrude
Wltftorf* a soft knock at the door. or a cough
To warn you that Hike, was not very far off.
If he wauted a favor, t•Km*." he would
aay.
Iu oh: such a sweet. Irresistible way.
It compelled you to irrunt bia request on ft*‘
And ttw' a rateful **0 thank j'ou!” was never
forffof.
If he chanced to do wrong—for ho wasn't a
saint—
“Kx-<*uiv me,” be wild. In n manner so quaint
That you couldn't but laugh; yot to cuuulug
nts wiles
That C^ery one called him the Utile St» (jlktt.
He wasn't a prig: ah. dear! not at all:
But whether In parlor, or SOttagC, or hall.
With rich folk, or poor folk, it denied that he
knew
The right thing to say and the right thliip *o
do;
And (hi*. If you want it in language exact,
Ail over the world is regarded as • tact;”
And the sorvanta would willingly travel some
miles
To do any favor for Little §ir Giles.
He *ire« Prince of his playmates—a gentleman
Who looked upon practical Joking with scorn.
And when coaxed to n*gage in some riotous
pranks
Would show his disgust and ritire from the
His heart was so tender, his manners so kind.
To play with rough boys he was seldom In
clined;
Buf the gtrVij oh, the girls would receive him
with Sidney
For they thought there was no one like Little
Sir Giles.
The Little 8ir Giles unto manhood has grown*
And never on any occasion is known
T« 1h* rude or unkind; but so courtly his
That oloftfmt young ladies both speak In his
And wiah that thuir gofm* e» their brothers
would be
As gracious In speech and deportUfOPt as be.
Who thinks less of clothes and l'asLnoftahlc
Than he does of his manners, the noble 8ir
Giles 1
Wosephin* Pnllani, In N. Y. independent.
THE ANT.
The Vund«rful iDlellU.ii.. anil skfll of
Thin llrmtrh.N, lm.rt.
If you have over hail your head ex
amined the phrenologist would tell you
that it was A very nice thing to have a
good big head. Hut somebody else
might repeat to you the well-known
couplet:
“ I.lttle heail. little wit—
Great head, net a lilt!"
But how Is It with the ants, who have
such small heads and groat w.Ls?
Them is nothing on earth, except
mad, that rail surpass the wonderful
devices of those heads, no bigger than
if they belonged to so many pins.
Watch bow they build Ihcir tnonels
and cover them in like so many railroad
engineers! Sue how they stop every
flow And then .to study out tlieir plans;
how they consider all obstacles and
avoid them; how they t!M every leaf
and stick amt straw to make a wall or
roof to Ihcir galleries! Hut who is the
foreman, or “boss,1 ’ as men sometimes
K»y? A new plan is thought of, he goes
to work npon it, the others soon adopt
the improvement and help the skilful
inventor. They are all as busy as pos
sible, and yet they work always on ono
common plan
The (fueen lays her eggs, (he workers
At onee take rare of them, running
with them from place to place, and al
ways with some end In view; and when
the baby ants come, if you could look
iuside any busy little ant-hill, with the
rising of the sun, you might see these
careful little nurses (for tnoy have real
nurses for their children just as we do),
who live iu the upper stories of that
Wonderful house, very oarly astir and
on their way to call their yotmg masters
from down lielovv.
And then you would seo them tap
ping them with their antenme, which
foot like horns, as much as to say:
“Come, children, time to get up; don’t
you know the sun is up!1"’ and thus
waking them they carry them through
the long galleries that lead to the top
of the ant-hill, and lay them outside
very carefully that the bright rays of
the sun may warm them and help them
to grow. And they are very careful,
too, not to leave them in the heat of the
sun after the early morning. As soon
as the air gets too warm they carry
them itlto the rooms near the top where
the rays have penetrated, and where
the warmth can still reach therm and
again further below if they think it best
But the oldor ant* can bear the sun,
anil like to feql its rays; and though
they are very industrious, yet as they
begin to work with the dawn they take
a little S>st, as people do sometimes in
the heat of the day, anej often lie heaped
together in the sunshine.
dust as long as the baby ants can not
rim alone they are dressed like the
young children In the Ka.t, or like the
babies which the Indian squ»w hangs
behind her back, or on a peg inneT tent.
They have natural swaddling clothe*,
for they are wrapped up so tightly in
their larval covering that no legs can
be seen, only a head and wings, traced
through the transparent skin in which
they are folded. Of course you know
the baby ant begins life in an egg,
whioh, in a couple of weeks, Is hatched’,
and then the nurses take them in charge,
as we have said, to keep them clean, to
brush and comb and shampoo them,
aDd very soon they are ready to begin
the next change.
If you could only look at tnese tiny
Insects (the nurses) through a micro
scope, you would see on their legs
some very line soft hairs, which they
use os brushes, and a spur close bv,
which, if needful, we may imagine can
do the work of a comb. And the sham
pooing is done by working about.
Kneading and distending the thin skin
which covers their limbs until it is
ready to open and let them go free.
Then these babv ants wind a curtain of
silk around their own little bodies and
go to sleep, to wake up full-grown ants,
without “guide, overseer ami ruler,”
except the tender services of the nurse.
Isn't it wonderful that these little ants
can do so much for themselves? so ex
actly right, and in such order, too,
each one knowing its business and do
ing it just as if they had a commander
to order their every movement.
No one ant tienu to have any person
al property, neither house, stores, nor
eggs. Everything belongs to all, anil
yet, while the whole world is wrapped
in a lazy content in the summer weath
er they are always laboring very hard
for the whole community. And if, per
chance, their little citadel is impaired,
as is often the case, they repair the
ruin with the utmost neatness and dis
patch.
Did you ever see an ant seize a pel
let, or a stone, and drag it backwards
up a steep incline, using its hind legs to
cling on to rough places, often tugging
away at a weight far greater than that
of its own body? Some hoist aloft in
their front arms, as it were, a stick or
piece of grass, two or three times its
own lengtn, moving it forward as if in
the air. And when they build, each
addition is put in what each considers
the best place, but the geueral foom of
the dome grows into a^ cur ouslv regu
lar diminishing curve, as if every one
bore the architect’s elevation iu his
pocket
home of these wonderful workers
make desperate attempts to move
heavv beams of wood, but after super
human exertions give up the attetnp
when clearly beyond their strength, if
a thing, however, is within the bounds
Of possibility. it is sutiibising with what
obstinate pertinacity they will return to
• pallet Which ha* rolled »wp> from
thorn, even to the lottoui of the hillock,
again and again, and bf^jita once mom
to haul it up, tugging, ln’lng it ovof
stones and under sticks, tuni M'ng ovct
with their burden on the other .‘‘Me of
au obstacle which thev had scaled. V>d
lying for a few seconds quite exhausted
yet never leaving hold of the r burden;
and setting off undauntedly as soon as
they recovered breath. Occasionally
two or more will lend a helping hand,
but as a geueral thing they prefer to
work alone. The hand of man is con
sidered a miracle of art, but what at
the ant's six prehensile fret, indifferent
organs as they {teem comparatively, to
hold or mill or lift proven to clingwithl
But what will you sav, apart from
their building ability aud tender care
over each other, the almost moral eio
vation which is their most fsjtraordis
narv ipiality. where by thegood <w fhe in
dividual is given up to that of the coin*
munity. If I should tell you of one dvph
still more remarkable powers, and 111?*
is the agricultural ant of Texas? You
will hardly believe the story, and yet it
is Touched tor by eminent naturalists
and others who bavfl jnado them their
study. Tliis ant Is end of the brown
species living in families, occupying
mounds or cities, as they art called, set
upon artificial hills three or foufipot in
diameter. Around these mounds the
ants smooth away the surface for tlfreo
or four feet further in all directions.'
and make a sort of farm of this cleared
region, Here they arc said to actually
plant the seods of a certain grass «lt
which they arc very fond, keeping tho
crop clear of all weeds and grasses
meanwhile Then Ihov harvest tho
setxls, clearing the chaff away, and
store the rest for winter psc. They tend
these seeds as carefully in winter as
they tend their eggs and grubs', drying
it when damp, anil acttinflv throwing it
away when spoiled. Theft harvhst-"
time is in November, and after harvest
they clear away the stuUble and leave
tho surface bare for tho next year.
How incredible this seems: and yet
wo arc not surprised at anything wo
hear about these wonderfully knowing
little creatures.
No wonder that tho ant has boon
held up as a model of wisdom and in
dustry. Solomon declares the ant to
be “a people not strong, but exceeding
wise, who prepare their meat in tho
summer.” But the highest praise it
has received is from Mr. Darwin, wher
says that “tho sire of tho lirain is close
ly connected with higher mental
powers, and the cerebral ganglia of
ants is of extraordinary comparativo
dimensions.” The fineness of tho
quality seems to make up for absence
of quantity. "The brain of an ant,”'
auothcr naturalist has said, too, “Is
ono of tho most marvelous atoms of
matter in tho world, far more wonder
ful than the brain of man.”—Mrs. (/.
Halt, in N. Y. Observer.
BEING A CAT.
Iaicy May'* Wl*h, and How It Wan Orant*
•d—Not So Nice a* She Thought It Would
Be.
•‘Yes, mamma. I do; I just Wish I was
a cat. aud then I would not have t«> get
up in the morning’, but would sloop jttst
as late as 1 wanted to. These hot daysj?
it is so hard to get tin so early and wash
and dross, and then nave to help do th«
work, too. Now, if I was a eat I would
sleep till I got hungry, and then when
I had had something to eat I would
find a good place and go to sloop
again," said Luoy May to her mother.
Lucy’s mother hail told her she must
take care of hor little sister while alto
made tho bread, and Luoy was cross
about it, as you can soc from what aho
su’d to her mother.
" Well, Lucy, put Bess down on tho
bed, and go away and be a oat, if you
wish to; but you must go out of this
room; you know I do not let kitty be
near Hess for fear she will hurt her;
go out in tho shod whore the old cat is,
and have a nice time."
Lucy looked at her mother and saw
she had to go, and she took her ben net
and was just going out of the door
whet) her mother said: “What are you
going to do with that clean bonnet?
That is my little 1,Bey’s bonnet; a oat
dooB not want a bonnet.”
Luoy did not know what to say, but
hung up the bonnet and left the room.
Bhe went out and found oM hit, but
she was sound asleep tindor the shed,
and would not play with her. j
She then thought she would like to
take a walk in the garden, and get up
id one of the large apple-trees, as she
had seen kitty do. Lucy got away up
in the top of the tree and found it hard
work to hold on, but she had do fear
cats did not fall. She got a big red ap
nle and thought how nice it is to be a
cat. But just then she saw a little young
bird not far from hor. She tried to
catch it, lost her hold on the tree and
fell to the ground.
Her arm was much hurt and hor pret
ty dress was torn. She sat there on till*
ground and had a good cry; whatwouldi
I her mamma say about her now dressP
But sbo was in so much pain from her
arm, she did not care so much about
the dress.
When her arm felt bettor, she saidt
“1 have been a cat as long as I want
to it is not so nice as I thought it was,
1 guess I will go and play with Bess for
nwhilc*
When she got to the house she found
hef mamma Boss just going out
for a ride.
“Oh, mamma/ said she, "can 11 go
with you?” •
“Uo you think I would fake a c#t
out riding with me? no, indeed, I would
not. Here is your pan of milk, I will
set it on the ground bo you can drinlc
it. Come, Bess, lut us go for ou? ndo
now; we are not cats, are we, dear?
So we can take a r de, aud then bring
papa home with us, ’ said Lucy
mamma, and oil she went, and left
Lucy at home.
How she did cry! Poor child, by
this time her arm hurt her so much, sho
thought it must be broken.
She went into the house and up to
her own little room that her mother al
ways kept so nice for her, and cried
and cried tili she fell fast asleep.. How
long she had been asleep she did not
kuow, but at last she heard her mother
call her; she got up, went to her and
said: “On, mamma, can’t 1 be your lit
tle girl again? I don’t want to be a cat;
I just want to be your little Lucy onco
more; and oh, mamma, X fell and hurt
my arm; it does hurt me so much."
Her mamma took her in her arms
and said: “1 thought my little girl did'
not really want to be a cat. but I thought
I would let her try it and see how sho
liked it. Let me look at your arm.
Why, to be sure your arm i» hurt, but
not very much, 1 hope. I will tie it
up and put some water on it, and it.
will be ail right in a a.iy or two. I
hope, l.ucy, you will be a better child
after this.. ’
"Oh, yes, mamma, I will.” said she,
and she was a much better girl after
that, and tried to help her mother al
ways, and tried never to be cross about
it, ever again.—School atui Home.
—No wild beast is mo e hungry for
prey than the colored waiters at Sarato
ga hotels for “tips," and not to fee
! them is to be almost entirely neglected,
i Tills is an old story, but truer this year
than ever before, and the man who con
tradicts it has noth en out of town.—H.
Y. Mail.
—A farmer without hands, and who
, does all the work.on bis land, ia one of
, the successful cultivators of the soil lie
i ing near KosWsU, Ga.— Louitii-M t'sbc
i ior-Jourumi,