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7111WEEKY EDTIO. WINN130-RO S.C,NYA1E.l 8
When the grapa is mown and bonds the grain
Before the sicklo's koon caress,
Whon shrilly croaks the loaded wain
And groans the spouting older-press,
A flying shout from the haunted wood,
By tanglod thicket and roaring flood,
Merrily ringeth the bright day through
When bloating lambking nok tho fold
And from the farm-yard barks the dog,
When rusts tho sunset's'wealth of gold
And fields are dronobed in rivor fog,
While flits the bat in the village stroots
This unlsoon, magical voice repeat. *
A mournful chant 'mid the failing dow
When stars are brightest in the sky
And low the spectral orosceut swims,
When from the woodland o,mos a cry
And o'er the marsh the owlet skims,
While all the life of the glad day sloops
A ghostly watchor his vigil keeps,
Bitterly weeping the long night through
Beneath the sun my spirit sings
Like you, dh, bird a moasu 0 gay,
But through the night, on loaden wings,
It woops o'er hopes long laid away ;
And hearing thee sobbog thy sad refrain,
My heart oi Io out with a sudden pain,
For the dead past wakes, as I list to you
[From ODR SECOND CZNTURY.]
A BROKEN HEART.
A TRUX STOnY.
I can never forget the first time I saw
Caleb Greenough-we were then fellow
sludents at Harvard; we became chunis
after a short acquaintance, and our mutual
intercourse was the foundation of a friend
ship so strong and- disinterested as can
only exist between two men whose minds
naturally flow in the same channels of
thought and cultivation.
Caleb was the only son of an American
gentleman whose name and repute were as
well if not better known in Europe than at
honme. IIis father was wealthy, enormous
ly so when we first met, but in the course
of our college career, when his whole soul
and energy was devoted to but one object
law and history, reverses caie; his father
lost his fortune and Caleb was thrown on
his own resources. Our worthy President,
knowing the circumstances, offered to allow
my friend to finish his course, and pay back
to Alma Mater the money advanced, as soon
and whenever ho was ablt. It was a hard
strugglo to decide which course to pursue,
accept kind President Felton's offer or go
into the world and' fight for himself alone
and unailded; but, after a fow days' con
sideration, my old friend called on the
President, thiaked hini for his kindness
but refused the sare.
A business opening he made for himself.
Frank, genial and open-hearted, lie left us
and many a regret we felt as we bade a sad
farewell to our old companion and clam
Shortly after leaving college business
called him to Paris, and we heard, at the
same thme, of his success and engagement
to one of our American bol!cs.
Last summer, after a lapse of twenty
years, we met again at ChanTounix-but
my friend was hardly to- be recognized.
Thougn but forty his hair was white, his
forni was more that belonging to a man of
advanced years than to one m the prhne of
life, his eye alone retaiined its youthful
-e--yet had an expression so kiwi and
yet so sad that the stranger at once became
interested, watch'ng long that face, which,
though not handsomte, was fascinating to
the last degree.
We sat long after mnidnight inthbam
airon th oer theza the rays of the full
monshining ovrtevalley, talking ear
nestly of our old college days. Many in
quilries Caleb mado after old1 friends, and
as now andl then he would ask for some
particular onie, I would inform him that ho
had already joined the long list of those
that weore no more. I asked him about
himself, how the world had treated 1im,
but was unable to obtain any information,
and noticing that qpy inquiries troubled or
pained him, turned the subject, and spoke
of may proposed tipl among the Alps.
"rThoso mountains are old frien'ds of
mine," saId Caleb; ''there is not a nook or
cornier I have not visited, not a peak save
Mt. Rcsa or the Matterhorn I have not as
cendeod, and in the mlonthi we are together
I will take you to the poeints of most in
So we journeyed together, sometimes on
foot, sometimes on mules, enjoying the
bracing air, the wild and superb scenery,
till at last wve reached Interlaken-the most
beautiful of all Swiss villages. We stopped
at thie.Victoria, and Caleb not feeling wvell
I took a room opening into his. Daily we
proposed starting, but daily my old frnend
became weaker, and to me it was evident
that lie was not long for tIs world. is
disease no dloctor could fathom, and as they
felt his pulse whlich had now become feeble
they prescribed medIcine after medieine, all
of -which I regularly bought, but none of
which Caleb would take.
"Their science is .of no avail to me,
Frank," lie would say with a sweet smile,
"I feel that. my days are numbered andl
before long I shall be no more."
"It Is there I am sick," hie one day add
ked, touching his heart with his now,weak
hand-"there!" X tied to encourage-to
cer himo up, but to no avail; ho would
only smile softly and tenderly upon me nia
if to say' "Why encourage a man when you
know it, is too late,"
August was .drawing to its close, my
frlend was lying~ by tl.ie openh window, thme
sun and warmi alt- apparently cheering him
as lie gazed with longing eyes on tIme .gay
and happy piromnaders; of a sudden he
gaea start, a low' pahtiful cry -which
liugt me to iAs bellside, -Ho was sitting
upright, his eyes fixed on two himalos In.tIhe
in the garden below. "Flrane.," hie said,
falling back exhausted, ."Franmk follow
these ladies and fiud. otit who thy are
where they are staying," and thes lie osed
*Feeling convinced that In Aohe unao,
countable way my friend's past life, whiich~
heo seelned so loath to talk -about, wae en
neoted with the ladle1i referred to, I rushed)
otit in quest of the haformation, and 30011
ascertalnedl them.to be a 'rs. .andudi
McCloetmont, of Blaltim~ore. NOsleb troni
bled all overa -X t4$ bilt the iiame, hli
% ioe h kok g ti e ho waye 'by
the tempest. "Where are they staying?"
"At this hotel," I replied.
"And are you sure you read the names
correctly, Mrs. ai Miss?" laying eitpia
sis on the last.
'"Certainly," I replied, at a loss how nmy
friend could become so excited at so simple
'Then, Frank, I vilt live I" Once more
his eye flashed as It had many a time in
years gone by in one of our old foot-ball
matches at Harvard. Ile jumped out of
bed and, for a minute, set about dressing
himself-the reaction caime as suddenly
and he fell fainting in miy arms. Having
restored him to consciousness I laid him
gently on his couch and soothed and calned
hin as best I could. For an hour he was
gloomy, unable or unwilling to speak,
mumbling to hinself apparently uncon
scious of my presence.
Dusk was creeping on when calling me
to his bedside ie drew from around his
neck a gold locket, which ie nervously
clutched, and opening It I saw a woman's
face of remarkable beauty, large dark eyes
and black hair, finely chiseled aristocratic
features-a second glance and all camne
over me, it wits the face of the youmger of
the McClermont ladiis. Caleb drew mC
close to hhn11t and said, I aml) going to tell
you, my friend, the history of that locket.
I have never spoken thereof for years, but
it will make vie feel easier. It is an old,
old wound," aid then the tears flowed fast
down his emaciated checeks.
"When I left Hiarvard, Frank, I went to
Baltimore, and soon found myself lauiched
ini business. Society I was always fond of
and met at a ball one night the young lady
whose picture is in this locket. I met ner
frequently, and before I was aware of the
fact was in love-I proposed and was ac
cepted. Soon after I wits forced to go to
Paris on bisiness. While there you biard
of my'success. I was the herc of an hour,
drawing rooms were thrown open I was
gladly welcomed everywhere, business and
society took ill) both day and night; every
body, cvei myself, thought my fortune was
made-uit it fell as quickly its it was built,
this beautiful castle of mine 1 Sympathy
wats freely expressed, I was recovering
from the shock prepared to go to work
again, when a letter from Baltimore in
formed le that stories defamittory to mty
character were being circulated. They had
reached her cars, " pointing to ils locket,
"who in all my adversity had stood by te.
It was not an hour before I determined to
return to her. My friends and relations
laughed and said, 'you will be jilted for
your trouble.' They begged me to stay in
Ettrope, one -crsonal friend offered ie a
partnership-but I felt I must go.
"I met my enemies, they retracted, and
once mtoro I was restored to her. Our love
grew daily, hourly. I loved her moro than
I (lid mny life, and there for the first time I
became aware of tite strengtNA of my pas
sion. The panic of '67 had struck the
couitry, businiess openings were few and
hard to find ; so, seeing that on account of
my misforttne, my suit was displeasing to
the family, and thinking the field for busi
ness more bright in San Francisco, as also
that her family would become reconciled
by ity absence, I left Baltimore and went
to California. I had been gone but three
weeks when one fine day sie wrote me,
breaking our engagement, but, noble girl
that She was, promising to be true to me."
At this point of lils narrative Caleb's voice
was choked and it was some tine before ie
"Forgive me, Frank, for my unmaili
ness, but tite wound is as fresh to-day as
twenty long years ago. Well," resuming
his story, "the shock deadened me to tite
world, all I cared for now was money, I
became a itermit. I worked day and nigl%'o(
I had twenty arms, twenty heads, and i-e
five years amassed a fortune, In this time
I saw ntobody, wrote to nobody, save a let
ter now and1 thentto her.
"One day I met a friend fronm Batltimore.
I inquired after haer and was told she had
marriedi. That blow killedi me, Frank I I
retired fromt business and( sailed for Japan,
trying to butry my grief, mny disappoint
mont, but It htas killed mc. For fifteenm
years I have wandered the earth, visiting
every p)laee of Interest, avoiding friends,
avoiding to inquaire after her. This year I
de'nided to visit the scenes of my boyhood,
for I was educated five years in olel Switzer
land, but I gave out whieii I reached here.
This locket, Frank, has neover quitted me,
and the ring," pointing to a plain gold
band, "was wished on by her-God bless
her i and now at tho last moment I see her
again fromt nmy window."
Buich sobs, melt deep, heavy sighs I
never have hoeard as escaped Caleb's lips on
finishing his htistory. Night had already
set In and my friend tossed foverishly on
"Frank," he at last murmured, "ask her
if alto will come to me t"
I left the apartment, met the ladies and
stated my mIssion, taking eare not to say
how far gone Caleb was. Stuch suarprise,
such beaming happiness and love as came
from the faces and eyes of both ladies. I
-led them to lis room.- The meeting was
Caleb, during mty absence, had got out of
bed antd was sItting in his dressing gown
in the arm-chair. Two cries rent the air,
a joyful, one froin him, one of such acute
paip.iandanguisht from Miss McClermont as
alhe saw his position. My heart aches still
to recall that scone. "Kiss nme, darn g, as
.of old," said Caleb. Miss McClermont
pressed a kiss of- love to. his lips--but It
was' too late, thme faithful' heart had ceased
*11er grief was acute when I related his
,story. "They would have made me marry
a rich New Yorker." alto said, "butt I could
atot-lh, I could iWot, ud, iet thte last mo
ment, broke tho engagement and was true
We buried him In the little churoh-yard
at intoflaken, and , ver lis grave rises a
monumnent~ with th,oly inscrlption-"A
Cloves are the dried flowers of a beautiful
tree that grows in the East Indies4 Its
culture is principally cooidned to the Island
di Zanzibar. After being gatherd' tho
cloves are prepared for shipent by sid
1dItA them 6n hurdles covere with matting,
ned 'lo wood iAro, to giveo them a browin
eo)~, ~td heyare furthejr dried In. thssun,
] Teyn~ ~ ut off fyom theofowerbra
chWotedtobe pu~ ~lQo
A capital sike story is told by Itattler
I anik, of A iizona. I Iatik has beeii hitten
foirl lines, Ianli attribu11tes his conitiimmled ex
istenue it) tlil 111.that. he al ways takes
plent.y or' whiskey with him. IlIe 131i kill
(I 1.400 rattlesiike.4 in Ihe hitt two years,
to say nothing of 'tie int mries 1h11d got
aivay with berore tait ti'm., amd of which
lIe 'ever wp iept a reCrl. It is ile old man1111's
deliglt to i,ask in twh ii:nirs o hmi roies,
and you imay sve him at, aniy time, whenl he
is not out prosI)eCtiig tite nleighboring hills
for gold or silver, sitting in Bill Brigg's
cabin, comfortably loaded w*iti ianglefoot
and detailing his uidventures. lie was in
Florence in August onl a big upree. When
Ie gets pretty badly tindled hie tells his
biggest yarns. It was My good fortune1 to
hear one of them. 'Boys," lie asked, "'did
you see that Oreaser in town yesterday with
tthe taranItuIs V' I give 'einl to
him ketcled 'em mut near tihe Al
varado mine; tley was laVinl' a party like
wiith a hull bilinl' o' rattlers. I never seed
no such rattlers yet. (1lank was leading
up to his story. One who knew him well
at once ordered the benzine for the crowd.)
I ain't seed no such rattlers as thelim," lie
continued, setting down his empty glass."
Thero was forty lindred If there was one,
and a rangin' all the way from two to ten
foot In length. And such an a-fired hissin'
and a wrigglin' amid a bowin' and a scrap
in' to one'nothier as polite its you please,
and Mr. Snake. crawlin' around Mrs.
Snake, and the young smakes a tumnblin'
over their daddies and maimm1ies till you
couldn't rest. What did I do? I reckon
I kinder didn't do nothin' but keep shady.
But a blasted jack rabbit run across the
bush just behind me, an' 1, bein' kind o'
hungry like, let him have it. The noise o'
the gun goin' off atarted the smiakes, and
they saw me quicker'n a second, an' jess
stood on their hind legs and roared to get
at the old man. There war a pile o' rocks
a heminin' mo ill on all siaes' 'cept one. I
had jest come over them rocks a slidin'
down, but couldu't get back. There was
only one wity out, and that was right
through the sminakes I And there was forty
hundred of 'ei as sure ais-. They saw
they had me, amid had already divided me
up like, ani' I standin' there lookin' it 'em
with my eyes stickin' out and the sweati a
pouirin' oil me like rain, ani' they kep a
comin an' a opeiin' their jaws an' a lickin'
o' their chops as much as to spy. 'Ole man
yer our ment.' Well, 1 yanked a rock aint'
driv it into 'em), an' beforo they got over
their surprise I'd drunk all the 'bug juice'
it my canteen an' made' a break. More'n
five hundred of 'en must a struck me as I
skinned through the gantlet. But I had a
p'ar o' buckskin breeches over my butter
nuts, an'the-fools couldn't bite through.
So I hoofed it over the perrarie for more'n
.half i mile, cos I didn't d'ar to stop a see
end or they would a got loose an'struck mle
on the hand. As it was, they kep' a
stringin' out behind ic like so wainy tails.
But y.u couldn't see 'em for the dust. You
1lank's listeners were setting in open
mouthed wonder taking in the story as lie
spun it out, and they were eagerly awaiting
the climax. Sagebrush Charlie spoke tip:
"Look a yere, Ilank, you say there was flve
hundredsnakeshitched on to your britches?''
"Yes, five hundred; nary one less."
"Wbll, how much you reckoned each
critter would average--about three pounds,
"Why, on'y this; you war packin' fifteen
hundred pouinds o' snakes. Perhaps you
will take a tumble t0 yourself and kinder
explain how you could pack so many
"Look here, Charlie ; you'ro a pretty
imuar kind of a boy, and pooty good on fig
.'Ind arithinetickin, an' that kind o'
'/ f, an' I don't mind sayin' to you that
M.I.een hundred pounids o' snakes tackled
onto a man when he is scar't-wvhen lhe Is
right diown scar't.\-don't weigh more'mn a
ordiniary shotgin. Yo~u might stop to
weigh 'emi. I didn't have no time."
Charlie was effectually sihemiced.
"Wall, as I was sayimng, boys," Hank
contlinuedl, "tme varmimnts kep' a swishina'
in the air an' I a goin' forty iles a minuite.
I seed there was only 0110 way to get rid of
'emi an' I yamnked out my knife ani' comn
mnenced chioppin' their tails off closo Up) to
their ears. By tIme timie I 'rived at Moss's
ranch they had all been cut away, but their
heads was still stickin' by tho fangs to my
buckskins. Boys, It war a lively canter
while it lasted."
"How many heads was there a stickin'
olnto your buckskins, Hlank ?"Chiarlie aked.
"Lemn me see; hem me1 see," Hank an
swered. "I declar I forgit. Recub, Itold
you the other day how many snakes' heads
there was a hangin' to my buckskins that
day. D)o you reklect I'"
"I reckon it wasfourhundred and ninety
Yes, yes: I said five hundred, didn't I,
boys? I tmake it back, it was four hundred
and ninety-seven; but what ini the namec of
coimmliOn sense three snakes imn such a outfit?i"
Then the glasse's wvere filled up again.
The Fiinny Tribe.
It is an almost every-day sight to see
boys catching fish, but yet not one lad In a
thousand has ever given a thought to the
wonderful construction of the fiy tribe.
At the outset of this subject it might be re
imrked'that no fish has a sIngle bone too
manny. You may think he has, especially
when you have perch for dinner, but every
littro bone was put there by nature for
seome special purpose.' Take away a hand
ful of bones from the average fish and lie
~would die in less than a week. Bones,
howover, have very lIttle to do with a fish,
and a groat deal less to do with catching
him. Let tie.draw your attention to the
eyes, in the first place. Theoy are so placed
that a fish .can. see a bob-tailed steamer
coDhmng up the river, andl a boy en the bridge
behind i at the same time, bumt for this
fact the boy would eatch himn with a dip
net made of an old hoop-skirt, or tie
steamer would run ever him. By a shnplo
roll of his eye, a fish can take in a view
from all sides at once, and you can't pass a
d:anoo off on him for a saw-log. If the fish
could only see ahead, his tail would' be
grab,be-i at every hour in the day. If lhe
could see only behind, he'd have to wear a
shcet.Jron protector. Qfn )is nose. As it is,
he'll do'dge a sto from one side and smell
Qf-a root on the other at the same motion.
Th'le iitouth of a flUh is proyided with straina
als lecd gdis. mtt for this he'd have a
atqi c~ full of sa*dttet all the year rout:4.
WtWtthe gill moitih would be obewt
of te o put wtith thOai
loils to force '111)011 hIs fellow-finnies. The
gills of a fish may be compared to the nose
of a man, even in color, but most of them
au'e I great deal I)etter Set on. It was eVi
deiitly de-sigiied by natire that fish should
live under.l waIter. This i.- why thevy tako
oin m) whenl halled out, srtirng on a willow
an(I carried'4 itro-II(I Oil a boy'sg ShotIl(Ier.
TIe bladder of a fish 1)13'S a iiportailt,
irt in his whoopiig aroid under tlie siur
faee of a inlill-Imld. Iy siteking.ini or. ex
pelling tir hf(e cnll isNe to the surface to grilh
a fly ; or go to lie bottom to) attend i coil
vention cr stickers. Ile i a very early
riser. You lily think you call get uip be
fore he dos, but lie will be wide awaiko
when you arrive oil the spot. lis iteals
atre vi,ited u) from such iings it were ieft
over thc(: oany befor, Ild it is iinalterial to
him whether wvell-cooked or not. No fish
is bound to iniy particular neighborhood,
in t has the run of tihe entire river or. pond.
Ile is out in till sorts of weather, ind if Im
comes home wet whiat is the difference? it
is generally suIposed that a fish stanids o:
his head to sleep. At least, iono have ever
been caught sleophig on their backa. They
see by night Is well as by day, and peiips
a little better. The tail of 1 1fis is not of
much account in the frying-pan but it is a
handy thing for the fish when sloshing
around in at mill-pmid full of old Stumps,
drowned boys and wrecked skiffis. Ills
tail guides his head, and it seldom goes
back oi him. Natuiro calculated that ho
vould be flopping his tail.against, bridge
timbers, stones, old hoop-iron and lost fish
hooks, and so sie made ii one which
couldn't le hurt. It. is simply at iletmbra lie,
without. nerves, and could bo cut off with.
out the fish knowing it un1itil he Startel to
dodge an old root and runi his head into
the bank. Fish may be divided into two
c1lisses-the fish which catch boys, like the
shark, and the fish which pernit boys to
catch them, like the mullet and bass. In
going a-fishing always sit on the veranda
in the shade, if you can, and if you can't
let the fishing go and hang to the vel anda.
Let us unow follow the art of glass tlain
ing through its chief stages. The design
of the window being determined upon, anlld
the cartoon or full sized drawing being pre
pared, a kind of skeleton drawing is made,
showing only the lines which indicate the
shape of each selarate piece of glass. It
is apparently not generilly understood that
a ivilldow -is ie. onn pieco of glass, to
which are applied the various color diq'
played, but a number of smiall pieces which
are united by a grooved lead which Incloses
each individual fragment, and that each
different color we see Is the color of that
particular piece of glass, the only painting
natorial employed being the dara brown
pigment used to deflne the more delicate
and minute details. This skeleton, or work
ing drawing, then passes to the cutting
room, where sheets of glass of every imi
aginable shape are arranged in racks, each
bearing a number by which a particular
tint is known. Thej0rawing being num
bered on each separate piece of glass by
means of a frame containing small pieces of
every shade, and each numbered according
to the rack containing the glass of that
color. The use of this frame renders un
necessary the tedious process of visiting
each rack in search of the particular shadu
required ; the glass is laid bit b3 bit on the
drawing, and each piece Is then cut to the
required shape by means of a diamond.
After the glass is cut it passes to the painter,
who, laying it over the drawing, traces
upon it with his brush all the details of
feature, folds of drapery, foliage, etc., as
designed by the artist. But as the action
of the weather and the continually varying
conditions of the atmosphere would speedily
remove every vestige of paint If left In this
state, it is necessary to subject the 'painted
glass to the action of heat by lacing it for
several hours ini a kilni, undIer the influence
of which the paint is fused into absolute
afinity wvith the glass, and becomesaetually
incorporated with its substance. After this
burning process, it only remains for the
different pieces to be united with the
groovedl leaded frame-work which bilnds the.
whole together. The places whore thio
leads join are then carefully soldered
together, and nothing remains but to thor
oughly work over the whole suiface with a
thick cement, which fills upi any intersticou
between the glass andl lend, aiid rendoer
the whole panel p)erfectly water-tight and
An A stronomical Fact.
'Two persons were born at the same place,
at the same momint of time. After an ago
of fifty years they both died, also at the
same place ar.d at the same instant, yet one
had lhved one hundred (lays more than the
other. IIow was this p)ossiblo I Not to
keep our friends in suspense, the solution
turns on a curious, but with a little reflec
tion, a very obvious p)oint in circum-naviga
tion. A person going around the world
toward the west loses a (lay, and toward
the east, lhe gains one. S3uppc sing, then,
two persons born together at the Cape of
Good Hope, whence a voyage round the
world may be performed In a year ; if one
performs this constantly towards the west,
In fifty years he will be fifty days behind
the stationary inhabItants, and If the other
sail equally towards the east, ho will be
fifty days In advance of them. One, there
fore, will have seen one hundred clays more
than the other, though they were born and
dIed in the same place and at the same
nmoiment, and oven lived continually in the
same latitude, and reckoned time by the
A Cotton OIn.
A cotton-gIn machine Is not as butlky as
an ordinar7 fanning-mill. It Is called a
"saw-gin, ' because cIrcular saws, about a
foot across, are set uphonl a wooden cylinder
perhaps half or three-fourths of an Inch
apart. For largest slzed gins the cylinder
is- five feet long. The saw runs between
steel grates set in the back of the feeding
hopper, so that the teeth reach just beyond
the bars and catch the fibres which adhere
strongly to tyie seed, and pull them through'
tile openings between the grate-bars, leav
ing thea seed behind. The lint Is cleared
from the t'eeth by revolving brushes, and is
either blown by a fan through a spout to
the lint-room, or else, by an improved pro
cess, is fanned into large vats, which can
be' taken up and put, one after another,into
a pile to form a bale. A large gin, run by
about six-mule power two hundred and
ilt revolutions a' minute, will gin onec
hul F4and4 ifity,ppuends of.likt in an hour.
8o Coie arlesehea or dosgisends a
the gin is a
Womebn and iqico14.1
yoiitl( la, beware of women who are
iot airaii of muict. It is iaingerous to risk
tlim. They are vither too go,oi or tt)o hwl(I
fur this world itii its washings. A woman
Who ClUn fitam14 her gro01md unconcernied
and %ull lert urhibu at tihe advani,c of a
Imloulse,who (tnn ltok upon the dun intrtiuer
withoiut the exervise of' a lipl or a lid, with
out the fhitter 4)f a heart or 'a skirt, is not
the wonan fir ordinary wear and tear.
She belongs to one of two forbidden trees.
If to the first, she is too near cold perfec
tion, too miuch of a pulseless paragon "for
human nature's chily food." Ster clear
of her, yotung man ; she will inake your
lil*e a perpetual Sunday, during which you
will be doomed to the stocks of a stiff
shirt Und climbing collars. You shall ever
rest beneal the shadow of her sprouting
wings, alnd your sigh shall not be one of
regiet if soie day she phiue theim and
float away like a whiff of steely smoke in
to a winter s(y. If shte be(l1nig to the other
class, she is a Wom11ani jorIlmed of the dust
of pulverized granite and iron 1ilings, into
which the breath of life was blown by a
siroCco, anild who Was tempered b'y being
set out onl an iceberg and a volcano by
turns. She it is who Is lit for treason,
spoils, diploiicy, muirder, bloomers aid
boots, buIII not for you. If you would be
scalped, go directly to tho red man and
have it done in good order, but keep theo
away from White-Squaw-not-Afraid-of-a
Mouse, for verily is she a "1yard wide and
Turn away from these and conie and
look upon the ideal wornan-the true ideal
of fe-inine beauty-an ideal for which
Praxitiles and 'hydias soulht in vain ; an
ideal which all the philosophy of PlIto anild
his school could not create ; an ideal vhilch
never dawned upon poet or painter in his
Cdreami of fair women"; an ideal besidC
which (Ihe oro-faced conceptions of Iaphael
are lackadaisical and lifeless; an ideal
which all the world has looked atill( lonred
for, which all the world has had right under
its nose, and which all the world lias beon
too stupid to recognize when it saw it.
Look upon her if you will. She stands in
a chair in the middle of the room ; her
eyes are resolutely closed ; her lips are
parted in half-suppressed shrieks and hys
terical laughter; her hands clutchli her
skirts, which shle frantically flirte p 1anld
(Iown to ward off and frighten ti poor
little mouse, which 1hats long since fled, ter
ror-stricken, away. Anon, you catch a
iantalizing glimpse of a pair of daility
slippets "nd ankles and the comical ripples
into wjiich her face is broken, and the
shades of the lily and the rose, which shift
and flit after each other over it, add a charn
to the Ihol wllich ought to smite as with
the rod the stoniest niasculinc he'arts and
call forth the living fountains which sonic
where under the surface flow through them
all. Young man, this is not a paragon or
an Amazon. This is a woman. She is
your opportunity - embrace It and be
John Pcerhviaigle's iamy.
Mr. J. M. Liddons, who knew Charleb
Dickens from boyhood, says that lie found
himself very late one night at a railway
station near Northwich. ''Scarcely had I
set foot on the platform," lie writes, "whan
I was accosted by a tall young manl of the
yeoman type. who had conie to fetch the
letter bag. 'Do you wish for a bed, sir?'
asked he, 'or are you going oin Y' I told
him I was bound for Northwich, two ililes
off. 'You cannot get there, sir, till later
in the morning. I will drive you there, as
I go with the mail bag at 8 o'clock.' Ac
cordingly I concluded to accept a bed, and
a supper if possible, at the hostlery close at
hand. I entered the kitchen, where a
hright fire was burning, and set myself be
fore It. There wvas a kettle on the hob
singing a duet wvith a chirping cricket. A
large wilry terrier came .crouching at muy
feet. -There was nothing strange in this.
But presently I heard 'clock, clock,' be
hind me, and turning rouind I beheld Til
ly Slowvboy In a pair of wvooden clogs 1 'The
ideca dawvned uplonl me that I was among
s~n of the dramatis persono~ of the
'Cricket on the~ hearth.' SuppositIon soon
grew Into coniviction, for In a few minutes
a pretty little round wvoman came in andl
Informed me that my supp)ler was ready ini
an adjolining parlor. 'D)ot,' by jovel' I
miore than muttered. I ate miy supper andl
wecnt to bed. My host roused me at 7.30
gave ime a cup of coffee anid bore ine off in
his little chaise to Northwich. -On the
way we passed a fine old-fashioned house.
"Who lives there?' I asked. 'I'hat, sir,'
was John Peeryblngle's rep)ly, 'belongs to
M~r. Hogarth, a musical gentleman.' 'Hoe
garth I Why lie must lie Mr. Dickens'
father-in-law.' 'Hoe is, sir, and Mr. Dick
eins do often come down here; and he has
been and took off me and all my family and
put us In a Christmas story, which lie (10
call the 'Cricket on the Hearth;' but it ain't
all true, for there's no bliud toy-maker in
these parts, and D)ot and me never had a
dispute about her brother.'"
The Recttred Brigand.
Spanns Evangella, a retIred old brlganid
of Thessaly, was imprudent enough the
ether day to cross fromi Turkish to Greek
soil, and was arrested by a corporal of the
Greek frontier g:uards, whose father and
brother had been murdered many years ago
by his band, and1 who recognized the super
annuated robber. Spanos was no ordinary
brIgand, and although not particular abot
committing a murder when occasion requlr-,
ed It, hie was remarkable for the kindness
of his dispositIon. Hie would often forego
his share of a ransom, and even save a
hostage taken by another band, paying tho
doficeey demanded ouit of lisa own capa
cious pocket. When Mehiemt~ Ali Pasha
was engaged1 in the suppression of brigan
dage In Thessaly, Spanos baffled all the en
deavors made to catch him; but after
eluding arrest for two years he voluntarily
surrendered, merely stipulating that Mehe
met All should receive his submission In
person' HIe was imprisoned for a twelve
month, and then pardoned by the TurkIsh
authorities, who hind no cause to regret
their leniency, for Spanos married and set
tIed In Armiro, where he led a quiet, Irre
p roachable life, and was "highly reapected"
by all who had the pleasure of lis acquain
tauice. Unfortunately, hie had reeived no
perden In Greece, where a suim of 20,000.
draehmns was placed on his head. Being a
rayah, Iskender Pashia ha demanded him
from the Oreek authioritie.; but it Is feared
thatt this deniaud will not be complied with,
and that poor' 8panos'will b6 called upnto
pay he pnalt ofhis life tois fome
For the newest warried couple, a jar of
ionloy to lst tle liioon out.
For tle best disposition exhibited in the
Line at the (icket oilce, -an opportunity to
wait (lhe longest for a ticket.
For the young man who carries his cano
i tlie most, artistic manner, the admiration
)f the young womian who carries her para
5ol on her arm.
For the oldest fashioned hat, gentleman,
mne cent ; lady $1,497,853.62J.
For the sweetest smile on the ground, an
>rder for new teeth when the present falls
nto the sink with a crash.
For the most elaborate coiffure, chignon,
Krench twist or banged, a back action mir
.or by which evury square inch of the head
,an be seen at one and the same time.
For the most contented man, something
o stir him up and put new life in him. A
nan has no business to be contented.
For the best turn-out, a choice between
dust heap and a mud-puddle. The
veather will regulate this premiuim.
For the most. prominent unmarried cou
>le, a reference to the city clerk's oillee.
For the most disagreeable person, an es
-ort out of the gate by the- police.
For the blind man who holds his hat with
lie most grace, a gratuity.
- For the largest harvest of babtes, a ticket
o the poor house.
For the lady who dresses within the
neans of her husband, if slo is (hero-we
laro not mention tihe prize ; refirred to St.
Peter with a hint to have the angels handy
vhei she arrives at licaven's gate.
For tihe fellow who says "Never?"-A
:ompulsory season pass to Pinafore, six
lights a week anld two matineces.
For the boy -who runs away from school
o ace the show, a mighty good time and a
orged excuso the next day.
For the most charming and best looking
'oung hidy, a personal introdunction. A
vord to the wiso is sufficient.
For the most honest bankrupt, a satis
actory compromise with his creditors, and
chance to say, "not guilty" before a jury
)f his peers.
For the newspaper reporter who fails to
nako himseslf "solid" wvith'the committee,
Lham sandwich and a glass of beer bought
vitlh his own mney-cons(<uentlya rarity.
For the biggest bore, a full complement,
if reactionary artesian well machinery with
1o one but himself to apply it to.
For the young gentleman who knows cv
!ry horso on the grouid and nothing else,
L succession of lost, bets that will leave his
mrse as empty as his head.
For the man who entertains his wife's
nother and her thrce sisters, a chianee.- I
at one-sixth of whatl he pays for, and tha
n tho humblbst manner.
The Man Who in Short.
Hre goes to the exchange. At the door
me meets a broker, and inquires:
'Tat ish de Imarket P"
"Seventy-seven and a half."
"Py shiminy I Vat ish de houtlook V"
"It looks strong."
le passed along and meets anothei
roker of whom lie asks:
"Vot ish do market I '
'Seventy-eIght and one-eighth."
" Py shimmy I"
Then lie goes in and after standing in the
ricinity of the '"bull-ring" a few minutes,
tsks another broker:
"Vat ish de market It
"Seventy-eight and three-quarters."
"Py shiminy crickets."
This time It conies with an unmistakable
,miplasis, and lie rushes around until lie
'nds his broker, to whom ho says:
''Py me five at peslt."
Then lie leaves the exchange, and after
ialf an hour returns. Of the first broker
ivlom he meets lie Inquires:
"Vat Ilih do market now I"
"Sevnty-eight and one-eighth."
"Vat Is de hmoutlook ?"
"It looks very weak."
"D)ang de Standard I"
Then that worthy merchant goes in anid
ioles the flve he bought at 781c at 77jc,and
ialf an hour later lie buys It back at 80c.
Thns the festive gmie of "whip-saw" Is
ilayedl, and thme man who makes a winning
Jeserves a ehromo anid ani extra copy to thme
etter up of the club.
Although celluloid wans lmventedI nIne om
en years ago, Its p:erfected manufacture
ma been regularly in progress for only
ibout five years, andl is consldered to be
tilh in Its Infancy ; yet immense quantities
>f thme substanmc ar-e produced; It Is con
rertedl Into a variety of forms, and new
nodles of app)lying it amre discovered almost
lally. Celluloid is a composition of fine
issue paper~ and camphor, treated with
hmmicals by a patent process. A rather
ommonf0i impiiression that it contains gun
otton is a mistake, which arises fr-onm con
rouninmg it with collodlonm. Celluloid, It
5 said1, is entIrely non-explos' ro, amid burns
)nly when in direct contact with flamo.
Whlen crude It looks like a transparent
sum, and its color is a light yellow-browvn,
it can be mnade as hard as ivory, but Is
t;ways elastic, andl can be readily molded
nto every'concoivabile form. With equal
mse It can be coloredl in any tInt dlesiredI,
lie (lye running through thme entIre sub
itance, and( beIng, therefore, Lneffaceable.
.A ilon-tire Tree.
A scrubby stunted juniper tree grows on
learly all thme ridges andl hill tops in Call
!ornia. The berries are very abundant
nd ab)out the sIze of the juniper berry
re known in commerce, from which is
listilled thme Inspiring spirit gin, but I cani
sot - say whether It is. or not. The tree is
jite like the cedar in bark and wood, but
Lt differs in size and shape from that noble
rid stately son of the forest. Thie needles,
which are the only approach to folIage, and
represent the leaves of ordhmary trees, ai-o
full of a combustible oil, which goes off
Like a flash upon the applhcation of a match.
Prees the sIzeoOf an apple tree produce as
flne a fire as 1 over saw. A solid column
of flame shiot up to three times their height
Inmd sheets of flying fire were carried off In
thme winid. TIhe heat was intense, but of
brief (duration. As. soon as the foliage and
loose bark were consumed the fire vanished
las quick as it came, and in four or five
minutes a beautiful green tree with spread.
Ing branches and healthy roots, apparcnti
In tho'prime and vigor of middlem age, wasn
chianged into a charred and 'blackened
trunk, stretching Its dead limbs skyward in
mute reproach for our wanton play..
--.Mr. CarIy1e 1s1la rnlith better healjth
and int4mdq wrtiting a record of bi lifos
havin. 941 as his ooadjuto,
FOOD FOR THOUGiT.
Consider your ways.
)o good] to all, that thou mayest keep
thy frieids and gain tilne enemies.
Ignorance Is a subject for pity; not
A knowledge of mankind Is neecssary
to ac(ilre prudence.
Choose those companions whoadmin
later to your improvement.
Don't think it degrading to work.
Only the fool thinks so.
There Is nothing so fatal to comfort
as well as to decortu, as Fuss.
It is the best proof of the virtues of
a family circle to see a happy firos'dc.
-Tie Chinese say there Is a well of
w1odon at the root of every gray hair.
In the great world there is a place
for every one, and we should be found
' Have one settled purpose in life, and
If it be honorable it will bring you re
There is pleasure in effort, in excite
ment, in trying, though the end be but
I hardly kno\Y so true a mark of a
little mind as the servile imitation of
Friction cleans the bark and rubs
down the knots. Don't be afraid of
ie who thinks every man a rogue, is
very certain to see one when he shaves
'ihe highest reach of human science,
is the scientiflo recognition of human
Books are but, white paper, unless
men spend in action the wisdoni they
Zet from thought.
Mlankind worship success, but think
too little of the means by which it is
Knowledge will alwayti predominate
aver ignorance, as man governs the
Man believes that to be a lie which
3ontradicts the testimony of his own
We seek for richet, and do not find
thein ; we do not seek for death, but
tias ! he comes.
I shall long to see the miseries of
the world, since tho sight of them Is
iccessary to happiness.
luman life Is everywiere a state in
which much is to be eninred, and lit
tle to he en.joyed.
Be not deceived with the first ap
pearonces of things, but give thyself
time to be it the right.
Wisdoin Is a solid and entire building,
)f which every piece keeps its place
and carries its mark.
Love, if you would be beloved; serve,
f you would be served ; and humble
yourself, it you would be exalted.
"The wicked worketh a deceitful
work, but to hin that soweth right.
3ousness shall be a sure roward."
We know what to do with our joys,
but we do not know what to do with
Dur sorrows or with our hardships.
It is the 4rst little step tlat loses all.
AfterI that the road is slippery, and we
tra down before we know it.
Be not too hasty to trust or to admire
the teachers of imorality; they discourse
like angels but they live like men.
When we are alone we have our
thoughts to watch ; in our families,onr
temper; and in society, our tongues.
Truth is 1id by great depths, and tho
way to it does not appear to all the
Conversational powers are suscepti
ble of great Improvement by assiduous
Th'le fricesipsof youth are founded
on sentinment ; the dissensions of age re-.
suit from opinion.
Flowers sweeten the sir, rejoice the
eye, link us with nature and innocence
amd are something to love.
Woe to those who are engaged in the
commission of unlaw ful deeds, for they
cannot trust their nearest accomplices,
Love mankind with all your souls,
and you will feel no difficulty in using
p)atle nce, forbeartace anad for-givenmess.
Some people have softening of time
brain, butt the world suffers more from
those who have hardening of the heart.
The flower of civIlization is the fln
sited muau; the man of sense, of necom
plishment, of social power-the gentle
Certaini thoughts are prayers. There
itre moments when, whatever be tihe at
titudoe of the body, the soul is on its
The three most diflicult things are,
first, to keep a secret; seconmJ, to forget
in injury ; and, third, to .make good
ise of leisure.
A fi'ctions, like spring flowers, break
through tihe frozen groun1d at last, and
the heart, wvhich seeks but for another
lieart to make it happy, will never
leek in vain. 4
It is veryv pleasant to see some ment
turn round, pleasant as a sutclden rush
ef warm air in winter, or the flash of
firelight ini the chill dusk; they sited
radiance on all around them.
All useless misery is certainly folly,
rind ho that feels evils before they come
rmay be deservedly censured, yet sure
ly to dread the future is more reasona--p
ble thtan to lament the past.
Mountains never shake hands. Their
roots may toneh, they may keeptgth
ur some way up, but at len ththey
part company, and rise into inuividual,
ibolated peaks. So itisa with great men.
The beginning of hardship is like
the first taste of bitter food-it seem~s
for a moment unbearable; yet, if there
ia nothing else to satisfy our hunger,
we t'ake another bite and And it possible
to go on.
A great mind is like an elephant in
the ashoient line of battle-the best ally
If you can keep him in the ranks, front.
lng the right way but if he turns
about he is the deadliest foe and treads
his master underneath his feet,
In young, childish, ignorant npitures ~
there is constantly a blind tvryst it) 6s ''
unshapen chance; it is as hard te oy
or girl to believe that a grAt WM tco
ness will actually be allhI, as,tJ~.
liove that they will d4 e.
Strong, sdful t~
ene - to