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TELI-WEEKLY E DITION. WINS 09O S. C., NOVi)YEMLBER!7 89 O. 1.N.19
Goet up, little sister ; the morning is bright;
The birdd are all singing:
The buds are all open; the dow's on the flow or:
If you ihake but a branch, see, there fplle
quite a shower.
By the sido of th ir mothers, look, under the
How the young lambs are skipping about as
And by thoso little rings on lhe water I know,
The bi)hes are merrily swiniming below.
The bee, I daro say, has been long on the
To get honey frem every flowerot the spring:
For the bee nevr idles, but labors all da-,
And thinks, I rudent insect, work better than
Tho lark's singing gayly; it loves the bright
And rejoices that now the gay spring has be
The spiring is so cheerful, I think 't would be
If we did not tool happy to hear ttie lark's
(lot up ; for when all things are merry and
Good children should never be lazy and and,
For G d gives us daylight, dear sister, that wo
May rejoioe like the lark, and work like tho
How it Ended.
"Only three short years since we fur
.nished this parlor together," sai MIrs.
Paradox, "and now-"
"Yes, now/" eclodd Mr. Paradox, reso
lutely thrusting his hands deep down in
his trowseors pockets, "things are altered
now, Abby Jane 1"
"Only three years," said Mrs. Paradox,
'"Three years of eat-and-dog quarreling,"
commented the husband, grimly.
"You said the pink danask window our
t ains were just the color of my cheeks I"
faltered Mrs. Paradox.
"And even then, if you will be good
enough to recall the fact to your llemory,
Mrs. P.," remarked her husband, "we
couldn't agree as to the pattern of the I)ar
lor carpet, nor whether the walls should be
kalsomined or papered I"
"We never lave agreed," assented Mrs.
Paradox, with pursed-up lips.
'And never shall I" said Mr. Paradox.
"tPerhlps it's better, oil the whole, that'
we should separate," said the lady
"Oh, altogether," acquiceced the gentle
ni, rattlIng the pennies' indifferently inl
"We never were suilted to one another,"
sighed Mrs. Paradox.
"Couldn't have been worse matched
if we had triedl for it," remarked her
"It's a pity we hadn't found It out before
we were married," t 'A Mrs. Paradox.
"Better late than never," said Mr. Para
"You 8aid you loved me," said Mrs.
"Well, I thought I did I"
"I might have known then 'men were
deceivers ever,"' quoted the wife.
"Oh, come now, Abby Jane, that isn't
fair," said Mr. Paradox. "Our first quar
rol wvas whlen you turned Rover out of the
S parior-thle old Newfoundland that saved
"No, it wa'sn't" .said Abby Jane, withl
bs spirit; "'it was w~hien yeou calledi miy aunt
Anastasia an 'old bore,' and "said you
wouldn't take her to the Wednesday even
ing pratyer meeting. My aunt Anastasia,
with property in governmilent bonds, and a
templier like an an~gel's."
"That's all very wvell," said Mr. Para
(dox, "but you seem to have forgotten that
you treated my friend Dickens as If he. had
been a house-breaker, whten I brought hhni
unexpectedly to dininer.".
"You refused to take mie to Saratoga,
'5 when D~r. Dodkins said that the wvaters
wvere essential to my health I" llashedl out
"You wvouldn't consent to' have m~y
mlothler come anld live with us," retorted
Mr. Paradox, twitching his mustache.
"If y6ur mother's temper'was 'half as
bad as yours-" began Mrs. Paradox,
flushing up to the very roots of her hair.
"Th'lere you go again," said Mr. Paradox,
beginning to pace savagely up~ anld down
the roomu. "WhVio 0on earth could be0 ex
p~ectedl to put up withI tils sort of thing ?"
"You'll not have to put upl with it 111101
longer," said Mrs. Paradox, drawving her
"Thank goodness, 110 I" said Mr. Para
"The lawyers will arrang4 all that,"
enunelated the lady.
"The sooner the better," said h1er hus
"Of course it will make a dreadful
scandal, me going home1 .to mlafmm~a, dndi
all.' faftered Mrs. Paradox.
"Not at all," said Mr. Paradox. "sep
arations are commion things nowadays."
"And I Clare say,'' cried Ite wife,'"that
as son as ygu get te N~ya Scotlaa o~r wh.at.
ever the hiorrid place s~th you're tgoing
to, you'll be making 1eye.,to see otheri
.wOmlapll" *., . - - . .
"Not I," said Mr. Paradox, qulto'n
*noyeod by lis spotlee's taunts. "Ijav
had guiti- enough of thait soft ofs thhi g,
t o'Sath, 4 fy . ra l
du llttlfn, "'apd I'uad dfit.
said the husband, biting off the end of a
I "That's no reason why you shoulel insult
ic by smokiug in my presence I"
"Do not be afraid, madam-you have
already taken quite sufficient opporhmi ty
to inform me of your aversion to my
And only the entrance of the lawyer suf
ficed to arrest impending hostilities.
It was quite true. Mr. and Mrs. Para
dox, after a union of three years, had
agreed that they coulin't agree, and were
to sign a legal separation. It was alto
gether the best thing-in fact, the only one
they mutually decided. It had been scold,
scold, carp, carp, fret, fret, ever since they
had walked out of the church. porch.
Domestic happiness had long ago folded
her wings and floated out. of the window ;
love and tender sympathy had shriinik,
startled, away. And at the end of these
three years friends had been called in coun.
cil, a solemn session of relatives had beenl
held, and Mr. and Mrs. Paradox were going
"You're sure you don't care for her,
Louis?" Paradox's dearest friend and. col
lege chum had said to him.
"Oh. that's quite a thing of the past,"
said Paradox, with a shrug of the
"You have ceased to love him, dear?"
Mrs. Paradox's mother questioned her
"Oh, manima, long aga," declared poor
little Abby Jane, with streaming eyes.
So the papers were signed and Mr. and
Mrs. Paradox separated in good earnest.
Abby Jane went back to the maternal
home, and Mr. Paradox took up his
quarters at a hotel until lie could arrange
for his departure to the dominion of
But the night before lie was to sail for
Nova Scotia the waiter came to his room
and announced "a lady."
"It's mily niother," thought Mr. Paradox,
who was sitting staring into the red coals
of the grate as if they were a riddle that
ie was trying to read.
But it was not his mother. It was his
"It's only me, Louis," said Abby Jane,
trembling all over, "1-1 wanted to speak
jimst a word or two before you went away
"Are you satisfied with the allowance?"
saud Ir. Paradox, gloomily.
''Oh, quite; it's more than generous!"
pried Abby Jane, hurriedly. "Only.Louis,
1 eculd not help telling you one or two
things before we part. I was wrong about
Rover; lie was a noble dog. I should have
let him stay, only-only 1 was a little out
of temper that day. And-I've asked
your miother's pardon for refusing to let
her livc with us. I think, now, that she
would have been a great help and comfort
to mne. And I think. Lotis, that I should
feel better if you would say you forgave
ic for scolding you so much about your
"Stop I" said Mr. Paradox. "It is not
right, Abby Jane, that all the apologies
should be on your side. I've been wrong
hayself P" .
"Oh, no, Louis, no !" cried out the little
wife, bursting into tears.
"Yes, I was-about your aunt Anas
tasia 1" dleclared Paradox.
"She wvas a dlreadfully trying old eca
ture," owned Abby Jane, "'amnd I kmnew it
all the time."
"But, J shoul have treated her civilly,"
p~ersisted Mr. Paradox, "'amnd 1 salmll always
regret, A'bby Jane, that I did not, give you
that seasoni at, Saratoga."
"'Dear Louis, don's talk so! All I ask
you 1s to forgive and( forget miiy horrid tem
per," besought Mrs. Paradox.
"If thero-is any forgiveness," said the
huisbamnd wmth softening eyes, ''it Is 1 that
needl it. I have actedl like a fool, Abby
"We have both beeni foolish, Louis,"
.tlmidly atuggested the.w~ife.
"But because weo have been idiots it,
don't follow that we need be for the
future," :said Mr. Paradox, holding out
both lis hands.\ "Abby Jane, shall 1 go
to Nova Scotia, or shall I stay ? Speak
quicklfy; It is for you to decide."
"Stay," whispered Mrs. Paradox.
Ha folded heqr close to his breast.
"Little wife," said lie, "let's go down to
old Parchmnent's office amid tear' uip those
papers of separation.".
"I domi't care how soon you (10 it," said
Mrs. Paradox, laughimig amid crying at the
-"Amid themn ?"
"And then," said Mrs. Paradox, twisting
the seconid button of her husband's coat
arounid amid around, "we'll begin life over
again--onian altogether now platform."
A nd that was the end of the legal separ
ation. Of coflrse .there was a general gush
of gossip, about It.; people said that "It
was very strange the Paradoxes didn'4
know their own mids." .
But Mir. and Mrs. Paradox wore suiited
undc, after ali~ that was the nmain tihing.
n' 1teInhanfl as a raicetsin ..
Recently, writes.acortesp'ondent, a keeph
or behoanging to Orossi's Circus who. slept
uiedr three elephaute was about mnidnight
aroused by thieir cries, fle at first thought
a cat or ui dog had gotten. into the circus,
but listhhi4 Mtieifho hh4,IdI dus
~oeie o ~ a e
dJark lantern, trylug to p1ktlig at~ rhoinl
Inmocts in Hooks.
At the recent meeting of the British
Scientile A ssociat ion, Professor Westwood
read a paper interesting to all possessing a
library. Ile described the life history of
the various insects which attack books, and
suggested some remedies. The caterpillars
of the moth Aglossa p)iguinalis, and alsoof
a species or Depressaris, often injure hooks
by spinning their webs between the vol
unies, and gnawing small portions of the
paper with which to form their cocoons. A
small mite, Cheyletus crtiditis, is also found
occasionally in books kept in damp sita
tions, where it gnaws the paper. A very
minite beetle, liypothenemnus cruditus
(Westwood), forms its tiny burrows with
in the binding of books. The small in
sects (Lepisna saccliarina) found in closets
and cupboards where provisions aire kept,
also feed on paper. A curious example of
its work waf exhibited in a framed and
glazed print, of which the plain portion was
eaten, whilst the parts covered by the
printing ink were untouched. The author
has been assured that the same fact has been
observed in India, where some of the Gov
ermnent records had been injured in the
same manner. The habit of the Lepisiw
had not been previously recorded. The
white ants (TIermitidte), are a constant
source of annoyance in hot and warn cli
mates, cating all kinds of objects of veget
able origin, of which several instances were
recorded by Dr. ligen, including the de
struction of a stock of bibles and prayer
books. Cockroaches (Blatta orientalis), are
also equally destructive to books when they
fall in their way. But it is the Death
watches (Anobium pertinax an(t striatum),
which do the greatest injury, gnawing and
burrowing not only in and through the
bindings, but also entirely through the vol
uime, and instances have been recorded
where not fewer than twenty-seven folio
volumes, placed together on a book-shelf,
have been so cleanly drilled through by the
larvm of this beetle that a string might be
run through the hole made by them, and
the volumes raised by the string. The rem
edies against the attacks of the Anobium
upon objects of carved wood nmIst neces
sarily he of i different character from those
used against the book worms, which are
the larva of the Anobia. In the former
case, saturation with chloride of mercury
dissolved in methylated spirits of wine or
other analogous fluid has been found to be
clicient. But with respect to books, it was
necessary to have recourse to vaporization,
and experiments were recorded in which
objects attacked by the Anobia had been
placed in a large glass case, made as air
tight as possible, and small saucers with
pieces of sponge saturated with carbolic
acid were placed at the bottom of the case,
and on the recommendation of the author it
had been found successful to place the in
fected volumes in the Bodleian Library in a
closed box, with a quatity of benzine in a
saucer at the bottom. A strong infusion of
colocynth and quassa, Chloroform, spiri 8 af
turpentine, expressed juico of green waha t
and pyroligneous acid has also been em
ployed successfully. Fumigation on a larg
scahd may also be adopted by having a room
made as air-tight as possible, burning brim
stone in it, or filling the room with fumes
of prussic acid or benzine. Dr. Iagen sug
gests that, by placing an infected volume
under the bell-glass of an air-pump and ex
tracting the air, the larvmi wout be killed
during an hour's exhaust ion.
The iwantiful ciypsy and Her hing.
Some time in the lifte'enth century when
the monastry was in the height of its power
and fame, and when high-born youths
came far and near to receive instruction
from thelearned monks, there was staying
at the abbey for this purpose a young man
of good family called Jians von Wessem.
There was at the same time encampied
in the forest, a trilie of JBohemians, whose
lawless ways wecre perhaps somewvhat of a
trial to the good ;nonks their neighbors,
but who served, it would seem to rolieve
the tedium of those hours; wvhich young
IHans of Wessenburg did not speCnd in
study-hours wheii lie possibly found the
society of the brown-stoled brothern slight
There happ~ened to be among the gypsies
a maienm of unusual and1( peerless5 beauty,
the pridle aind dlelight of the tribe, a crea
ture with soft dark eyes, lustrous as though
the stars had looked into them, and softly
tinlted (damfak cheeks, such as Correggio
only could have put, on canvas-a creature
that seemed to the young studlent, a very
"vision of delight," whenm, one (lay, book
in hand(,' lie wvas taiking a solitary ramble
through the ravine, and1( sudldenly looking up
lie saw Elsa, seatedl on a great rock in the
centre of the torrent, her dark hair flying
in the breeze, and her shapely bare feet
dipped into the foam of the water-fall.
Tihe young man was certainly inclined to
believe that he had come across one of those
fair, unearthly beings which legend had
taught him hannted those so nes.
Stillilhe did not turn andi fly, ats perhaps
lie should, as those seized with this im
p~ression'hlave done. Later on, however,
lie dliscovers that the beautiful vision was
no dleludilng wvater-nixic, but a' true niaiden
of Ilesh andl blood, and hie felt, less inclined
to turn andl fly than before.
The first meeting between the youth and
the gysy maiden by the romantic water..fall
was by no means the last. Both were
young.' ]oth were wveaving their ihrst ro
manice; for doubtless in the gypsy's eyes,
the fair-haired, high-born youth appeared
noe less charming than (lid she in his, Both
loved. Thue young man had but one dhe
sire in the world-to call the lovely spirIt'
nrthef ravine his own. Amiwi before long a
solemn betrothal, in the p~resence of the
gypsy tribe, joined1 their hands and -lans
slipped on to'the slender brown finger of
his future brid'. a rIng as an carniest of his
"On that ring," said an old sibyl of the
tribe, soon after, to the girl,. "hangs your
fate. Be careful of it. If you loose It,
your happiness is gone."
Elsa laughed softly. "My happiness Is
ip him and not in the ring," she said lightly.
'Yet she wvore it nighit andl dag', and look..
ed at it and loved it, and caressed it in so-!
cret as -though It had bep a. part. of her'
It is liit' a 100k of his -goldien hair, she
thinks, 'twIsted about )1er finger', and .she
leveit t6alay with it, child as, she Is, as
thontgli it Were wl~ n
ud ~le is an tlttle w11t61 and eldidher
by one her bits of gypsy finery, her neek
la'!e of beads and armlets of silver, and lays
them on the big stone li the rivulet which
i her favoriteseat. A little cross too, that
ier lover has given her and taught her to
prize, she lays amongst them.
"I low pretty they are! how pretty they
must look on me!" she cries in innocent
vanity, not knowing it was she who gave a
beauity to the trinkets far moro than they
tave to tier. "But my ring Is the best,"
she says, "alt, let mo see hI'ow that sparkles
imongst them-so tiny, but so precious."
Site lays it on the stonle in the midst of
lier armlets, and gazes at it adimiringly.
lilt in another instant at Bound reaches her
ar. She I hinks it is her lover's footst ep,
And turning away her head to listen, a see
md only, and she turns agrain to see her
rized and fated ring carried from lier in
,he beak of a raven which had been hover
ng over her head.
With a cry of despair the girl leaps from
lie rock to meet her lover and to pour into
is ear the sad tale of her loss.
To the Toutonic mund of I lans this event.
s annoying as involving the loss of the ring
)ut(, otherwise not overwhelming.
"After all another ring can he got where
hat come from," hto said lightly. Don't
ipoil your pretty eyes, my Elsa by crying
ifter the baiuble."
Then Elsa tells him with faltering tongue
mi1d white cheeks of the old sibyl's proph
,cy. "My happinesss goeswith that ring,"
Ihe cries passionately, looking ip at the
'aven's nest overlonting the edges of the
-ock far iabove her i..ad, where the bird has
-etired with his prey.
"'If thatt be so," Said the young lover,
milling, yet moved by the anguish of her
ace, "you shall very soon have it back
igain-both ring and the happiness."
Before the girl is well aware of what he
s about, lie has begun climbing, hand over
land, the rugged face of the steel) gorge,
1linging here to a bush, and tlre to a stone
mid hanging now and again over the ahyss
mn the strong arm of a tree.
"Stay! stay!". cries the gypsy, as she
vatches her lover's progress with horrible
'ascination. "'Come back! Alas! the ring
a not worth your danger to me. What
inve I said?"
But the young man, excited now with
lie sense of w" exploit almost achieved,
uends back a reassuring shont, and] pursues
ds perilous way upward. One more spring
Umd the prize is8 his.
Ie stretches his hand over the nest .from
vhich the scared bird rises support ing him
ielf meanwhile on a itclump of gorse which
>verhangs the torrent. ..
Elsa, seized vith a sudden presentment
>f evil, shudders and covers tier eyes with
ier hands. A horrible spund of something
alling heavily beside her makes tier start
tway aid look.
At her feet lies the body of her lover, the
ast faint breath of life but now thittering
'rom his white lips, while in his tightly
-lincihed hand lie still holds the prize for
wvhich lie had striven-her ring.
Three (gys afterward some of the gypsy
ibe, searching for the lost Elsa, who has
>een for this time missing, coming upon a
ivhite-faced, scared and ghost-liko creature
iitting in the roar of the water-fall, beside a
lead and mutilated body, to which she is
itill chattering plaintive words of fond en
learment, and tonder reproach for its silent
,oldIness. The gypsies carried the body of
he young man to the abbey, where lie was
mried, and removing their camp froii the
ieighborhood, took the unfortunate Elsa
But. the glen where ther happiness and her
nisery had in turn come to her had a weird
"harm for her unquiet spirit, which no dis
,ancecould alter. Site found her way back
igain to her favorite haunt, and not many
nontlis afterward lay (own with a child's
.veariness to (lie on tile spot where her lov
nr'slife and her own reason had alike left
Slog Oak Ornaments.
Whelln taketn up this bog oak Is perfectly
,lack fronm the action of the peat or bog
vater. it is very rarely obtined in a
tound state, and in most eases the outer
>ortions of the tree or log are rotten, and
useless ecytn for fuel. When laid uip for
ise, care nmat be taken I hat it is not plac
,d in the open1 air, lest it may, from the
uii's rays, become open andl shattered into
hips fromi end to endu. TIo preserve It,, it
nuat be yul into sonic cool place and left
~o dry gradually, and when properly sea
onedl it must be cut in !cnigths of from two
.0 four feet, and these lenigthts be slilt again
mid thie'soilid parts remnovedh froin the unm
ound. It takes from four to six years to
teason some sipeciumens, as in many in
itanics the woodl is founo at a depth of
aghit, and sometimes ten feet tuder the sur
'ace. W hln prop~erly seasoned, any por
ion requiring to be glued become~s hard its
utone and Is firmer and less liable to give
vay thani any portioii of the manufactured
urticle. Thle finished is not qitte perfect
mtiu the article has been for some time ini
ise, and the longer the pneir the article
ueems to be, ito matter wvhether used( as a
personal or table ornamnent. The men cem
>loyed are all, wvithouit exception, self
aught ; each one makes his own tools, and
wvill not take any apprentices ; 'and each
erson has a peculiha taste for a certain
(lnd of ornamentS, whlich heo follows, and
o whiceh ho is left .to p~rodutce tlhe best
pecimens lie can. There are jewolers who
nount, and embellish the ornaments with
goldl atid silver and with rare aind most
yrillianit lrtsh gems, sutch as the Kerry
[Iush diamiond, the emerald, the garnet,
imethyst, beryl, aquamiarino and Donegal
pebble. T1heo Coltic ornaments are generally
itudded with the above native gomp ; they
ire beautiful and~tmost art istically.executed,
I'lic dlesigns emibrace seine thousands, and
ill of them are both classic andl historIcally
llustrjitivo of Irish antiquities. Extensive
:loposito of bog oak and other bturled woods
tave been dilscoveredl in Glermatny,
.,Wanted a Two-N orse Load.
Lady to peasamt-- ''How mutch for that
(ad of -peet " .
Blesides, I don't watnt suich as small -64
[.vatit a twp-horse,Ioad,'
T'he peanant goosto at frie3nd, orrows'ble
rrlcid'e horso and hitches It to the cart be
Bide his own animal atid Teturns.
Pessantl.-"IIcieo is a two honrie ,load,
- td-d'Ah, that Is mnore Ilk. U low
Dr. Hudil's Inabellia.
Mr. Budd picked i) the paper and be
gan running his eyes over it, while his wife
sat upon the other side of the table sewing.
Without knowing it Mr. lludd got to read
ing in the cohunn headed "Grape-vine
Culture," and presently he exclaiisd:
"'Why, hullon! Walit's this?"
"What's what?" asked Mrs. Iuld.
"Why just listell to this! This paper says
that-wait till I read it to you:
"We regret to learn that our friend Mr.
Simpson, has had a good deal of trouble
Withi his very flne Isabella. "
'Queer isn't it?"
0"What kind of trouble!" asked Mrs.
"Why," said ihud, "the paper stiates
'."l('inug In a very unhIiealtly condition.
-*ald seeming to lack vitality, Mr. Simpson
made a very careful exumination and dis
covered that his Isabella was literally cov
cred with small bugs."
"Did you ever hear of such a thing!"
''Bugs! Covered wilh hugs! Why,
what onl earth Could have been the matter
with the woman? I always thought Mrs.
Simpson was a scruipulously nice ersom."
''So did 1. But that's what the paper
says. I hol oni; suIppose I see what, else
there is about it."
"Mr. Simpson was somewhat, perplexed
to know what to do about the matter, but
he fllily applied a wash of carbolic acid,
with good results, and he is now looking
every day for his Isabella to leave."
"I don't exactly understand that."
"Leave for where?" asked Mrs. Budd.
"It dlont say. Going a vay for her
health, I suppose," replied Mr. ludd. "hut
there is some more still."
"'Mr. Simpson tied the Isabella--"
"Why the Isabella?" asked Mrs. Budd.
"Tied the Isabella up to a post, and"
'"ied her to a post!" exclaoimed Mrs.
B1udd. ''Why, I thought you said lie
wanted her to leave."
"That's what t.h'e paper says. It's very
queer, isn't it?"
"Tied her to a post and cut off two of
the largest limbs'"
IH uhlloa! how's that! cut off two of her
limbs. Incredible! Simpson must be go
"It's the most horrible thing I ever
heard of!" said Airs. Bild. "They will
certainly arrest him, wont they?"
1I should think so, of course. It's a
wonder he didn't kill her. But the story is
not done yet."
"Iie performed the operation a little too
late, for his Tsabella began to bleed aid he
fearod that lie had done a permanent inl
"I shoul think so, both legs and arim
off. Permanent injury! I can't inagi ne
how it could le anything else than permua
'It.'s dread fuIl! " saidl Mrs. Budd.
''And here's more:
"3MIr. Simpson thought wood-ashes
might be good, so lie put them all around
and gave her ill the soap-suds she could
take. Upon the whole his treatment may
be regarded as judicious."
'"That's the editor's opinion. He mus',
bo Insane, too. They'll kill that woman,
certain, if feed her on wood-ashes and soap
"If I were you I'd write to the Mayor
about, it." said Mr's. iludd.
"I think I will. But let's finish the ar
"'Mr. Simpson declares that if lie h1as
much more bother about the matter lie will
ChoI) the Isabella up1) and"
"Chop her up! Did you ever hear of
such cold blooded discussion of a possible
murder? it is a disgrace to the newspa
"There must be certainly -sonmething
wrong about it." said Mrs. Budd.
'No the paper says:
"Hle will chop his Isabella up andl bur'n
"What doees it mean? Chop her up and
burn It,? Danged If I understand such non
"'is that all?" asked Mrs. Buidd.
"Well read the rest.."
''Why it says, let ime~ see. Oh yes, it
'"Take It all in all Mr. Simpson Is con
vincedl that the Isabella is not the best
best--not the best-"
"Why lpshaw, Ihannah. we've been
making a istaike!"
''Not the best what?"
"Not the best, grape-vine to3 cultivate in
"'It was only Simpson's grap)e-vine after
"'But Buidd you're a fool or' you would
have know~n that in the fir'st place."
"'Maybe I am! M~aybe I am!" saidl Biuddl
wearily, "bhut I'm nlot as big a fool as the
mani wh'lo gave such an idiot-ic niame to the
And 'lien there wvas a long flash of sIlence
in the Budd family circle.
stabits of 9uimbl1e Riees.
Children, dId you over stop to considler
the Immense poweri p~ossesed by a bumble
lbe? An insect weIghing 110 more than the
eighth of an ounce is capable of "raIsing" ni
man wvelghlng 220 pounds from a bench la
the public park, and then have lot~s of lift
ing material left. Just stop) and think of
it i The stinger of a hee Is not near as
lar'ge as the finest, needle, but such Is the
force behinid It that It can be dIriven through
heavy p~ants cloth, hacked by merino
drawers, and Into the flesh about sIxteen
feet. If a man could yldl~ a crowbar in
comparison lie could drive It through seven
saw-mills and a whIsky dlistillery at one
blow. Nature could not give the bee teeth
and clawvs without spoiling his b~eauity, anud,
in compensation, she gave him this stinger
as a weapon of attack anid dlefense. -If the
bee had no weapon, ants, beetles, and hugs
could cuff him around as they pleased, but,
as it is, lhe Is boss of the walk, and won't
take a word fronm any of them. The bum
ble-bee i not naturally of a quarrelsome
disp~osition, but lie can't-be sat down .on
over half an hour wIthout fooling as if some
&'6"was doing him a groat wrong.. If loft
to -himself lie will crawtl up your coat sleeve,
look around, and crawl down and -go about
hIs bitsiness,.but It welcomed with a blow
between the eyes lie is going to be revenged
if it breaks a leg. He invariably eloscs his
eyes *hnen he stinge, and you Iaeonly to
look a hee square in the facOo. ldieobt'
when he is feeling around, -and- wher( - 1o
-nicans fourteen per cent per antuni . 'hee
h1af.fldi:a fa~rito toqort of the 'i~h
bo, y~ou ati d lot ainest
1 M 1 -
which to carry straws, lie Cannot nest in a
tree like a bird. i'fe, therefore, takes to
the grass, and under the roots of an old
stinup. or anidst a pile of old rails, he rears
his gentle young ail gives them printed in
struetions as to the difference between
stinging six-inchl stovepipe and rinaway
boys. The knowledge of o1d bees is wond
erful. They know where the school house
is. They know when school is out. They
can sail miles awaty from home, get in their
work on a farmer's son weeding out corn,
and retirn home without missing a fence
corner or in need of an aft ernoon nap. As
a rule they are early risers. Barefooted
boys driving lip the cows lit daylight will
lid the bunnble-bee out of bed and quite
ready to begin the arduous labors of the
day. Along about sundown Ie quits work
couilts noses to see if the family are all in
then stows himself away. The legs of a I
bumble-bee are very crooked 'This seems I
too bad at firAt sight, but you will soon dis
Cover that nature was level-headed. H1is
legs were Itius Shaped to enable him to hang
to the brim of a boy's straw hat. Were his
legs straight lie Could not wiilk a fence rail I
in a high wind, nor could lie turn around I
after reaching the top of a mullein stock.
The stripes on a bee look like a waste of
material, but such is not the case. They
furnish an extra covering over his ribs to
keep the frosty air off, and they serve to
stiffen li spinal colunn8 in his flights
through the air. A bumble-bee can fly lit
the rate of twenty miles ani hour, if he wants
to, but there is no cause for hin to fly any
faster than a boy can run. Ile sometimes
lives to be three years old, and is somellties
stricken down before Ie has traveled at all.
Ills life is a prearious one. I may run a
deacon out of a hay-field to-day, atin be the 1
big bee of the nest, and to-morrow i coun
try school m10a'ami may knock his head oil
with her uimbrella. Nothing in natural his.
tory weighs more for his size than the bee,
and nothing in science works easier wit hoit
cog-whee.s or rubber rollers thian his sting
er. It is always ready, never out of repair,
m1d satisfaction (to the bee) is guaranl eed
inl every case.
Lasw or atitroud D1epoits.
Plat fornims and stairways about a railroad
station have often given rise to lawsuits
where the station master has allowed them
to get oiut of repair or into had condition
and a traveler ls been hurt in conse
quence. While Andrew .Johnson wasl'riets
ident, lie made a trip over the Pennsiva
nia road, and wherever the train stopped at
inly way stations, the people galiered to 1
look at him aind get a speech. At Johns
town the station broke down under othe 2
weight of the uinusual crowd. (hne of the
perrsonsi that was hurt11. Su1ed I he comipniy,
an(d proved that the plat form was old and I
the timbers decayed. The court, inquired I
whether lie had come to the station to take
the train, and lie said "No lie was only
there to see I lie President." The court said 2
if that were the case lie had no ground to
tile, for Ihe company was not bound to keep
at strong phat form for a crowd of sight-seers.
Buit. le said if any passengers were injtred
by tile defect, or even any person who had I
come to imeet a passenger or see one oil, lie
could recover damages. A Station master i
oin the New .Jersey railroad allowed 21 hole
in the floor of his station to go unmended, I
uiltii on1e (daly ia lady passenger, onm uilighting I
from the cars, caught her foot in it an1d fell
and was badly hurt. At Wells River de- 2
pot there vas at flight of steps to the plat- 2
form. The depot master did not. keep the
steps properly lighted at. night, and 2a lady
passenger who had come to take a night.
train, in groping about in the dark to feel
her way, fell down the steps and hurt her
hip so 21s to become 21 Cripple for life. 'I'le I
court said in both these cases the company
must )a1y. At one of the stations of the .
New Yora elevated road the people in
char'ge allowed the steps and1( platformR to
get icy, fromi ralin and1( snow fallinmg and
freozig; and1( a passenger slipped, fell 11nd(
was permanenicitly3 hurt, so badly that lie<
jury'3 gave himn $19,000 damnages. Thel e
jludges sido that this wa''is right. The agents 1
of '1rlra comp~anies mtust takeC more thni
miere orinary11'3 carie in keeping thleir 11loors <
lind( plat forms in a safe c'ond(itlin for' pas
senigers; they3 are biouind to use "al1l such:
reaisonablle p~reautions againsiti njuiry ais,
humiian sagaucity and1( foresight cani suggest."'
And so iln a variiety oif ot.her ins5tanices, thle I
companIes hav's 1had( to pay heavy dama2I~ges
to passeniger's, because the pilatformis were
D~anli H144)(O" 51nakec.
A writer in a W~ester~n plaperI tells ho(w he
was blasting with gunpowder 80ome large
anidtough logs. From one1 (of the logs thus
wplich opencraledl 211 eniormiious serpent.
wihwseasily kIlled. Th'le man11 whlo
tells the-story co)ntinues irom) this plnlit a18
follows: "'On stretching it, ouit 1 foud it
to be thirty-one feet two Inches 1in length,
and( the thickest p~art of its b)ody mieasured
twenty-ino Inches in circumfllerence. It
was a dilffenit species of serpent from any
I had ever seen before. Its tail was armed
with a sharp-pointed and( cuirvedI horn ; its1
body wr variegated with alternate brown
and1( dlirty yellow strIps, airnd on close ex
amninationl 1 discovered that It had been to
t ally blinid, its eyes seenuing to have turned
Ito a reflectloni si, hard, bone line sub
stanIce.. 'IThis eSxplamedC~ its umndecidled,
heitating movements when it first came
froml the log. A strange crease ap~peared1
aibout the neck just baick oIf the head,
which I fond to be0 causedI by a stoult
thong of leather, about which the flesh of
the serpent had grown until It, was sunk al
most oult of vIew. Cutting this thong and
remnoving It, I found attached to its uinder
side a copper-plate which had1( been hereto
frhddnby the body of the snake, ittid
onroe hideof whIch was scratched : "ID.
H oone, April 15, 1779." 1 split the log in
two, and near the lowver end of the hollow I
foiund whore tiore had once been an open
ing, but long years ago It had boeen closed
up wth a pn mado of oak wood, about
and ovei- which theo maple had growin until
it was almost concealed. . The (load apJ)
poarance of the small portion vIsible of the
oak plug was all that called my Attention
to its existone. My theory of the muattor
is this:3 Daiiel Boone, luaiy' yearS ago,
on the date recorded upon this piceoof ce
por, caught the snake, themi young and
small, fagtened the copper plate aloz his
neck, and imprisoned itwi*thin the. <h916
of tne tree by means of~t~ieal yllug,awv~o
~ti- snak#eshp had rpftialte4l nt the~a~
4ivere~I hhid (the free Min.a41 stuIh
A Ravenous Eagle.
A few days ago while little August
Burr, aged seven years, was playing
#1th his slsters-one five and the
)ther three and a half-near his fath
,r's house, Beaver Bay, Lake superior,
lin enormiouis1 eagle pounced down up
)in them, throwing the two girls to the
fround. It immediately %ttacked the
omunger one, grasping one of the
:hild's arms with the claws of one foot,
vhile the claws of the other foot were
leeply buried in the child's face; and
t attempted to carry the child oft but
vas prevonted by its struggles. Little
Jugust, seeing that he could do noth
ng with his own hands to help his sis
e*, ran quickly to the house, got the
>utclier knife and came out and whack
Id away at the eagie's legs, cutting
me of them severely near the foot,
vhiereupon the savage bird let go of
he little girl and attacked the boy,
Liocking him over, tearing his pants,
Lmd giving him some severe scratches,
nt the nicantine, thc screams of the
hlhtren brought out their mother,
vhereuipoii the eagle flew off to the
>arn, on which lie sat and looked as
hough It. would like to renew the con
est should a favorable opportunity of
er itself; but he stayed there a little
oo long for his own good, as Joe Butz
er, a neighbor, was called, who took
lown hies gun and shot this great "em-,
>en of Aurican freedom," and his
agleshuip, when killed, was found to
neasure seven feet from wing-tip to
ving-tip I The little girl who had this
emarkablo encounter is very badly
crtihlie(l, but not seriously burt.
A Gold Min, li i Cow.
One of the most remarkable cows on re
ord is the "110th Duchess of Airdrie,"
wned by the Ilon. Mat. Cochran, of Nova
tcot ia, which lits just given birth to her
uinlh calf, a red heifer, to be named the
'11h Duehwss (if Ililliursit" by 3d Duke of
)neida. Of the 10thi Duchess, and her
lauglter's calves. Mr. Cochran has sold
he following inialHi at the prices named:
n the witer of 1875 the bull calf, 4th
)uke of I fillhu1rs, at $7,000 ; at public auc
ion in Toronto, Jime 16, 1875, th bull
alf, 'tl Duke of lilillhurst. twomonthsold
t $8,000, and the heifer Airdric Duchess
th1, eight m1ontihs 11ld at $18,000 ; at auc
ion side in Toronto, June 14th, 1876,
lie cow Aidrie l)uchiess 2d, at $21,000,
nd the heifer Airdrie )uchess 3d, at $28,
100. In August, 1867, privately, the helf
r 6t.h Duches of lillhurst, at $12,000 ; and
t public salefs at BIowness, Windmere,
Cigland, Se)t. 4, 1877, the helfer 3d
)uchess and 5th Duchess of Hlillhunret at
'3. 100 and $4, 300 guineas each, or $20,
100 and $21, 50 respectively, making a to
ill of $1,11,600 for eight animals sold.
Jo has still in his possesion, besides the
Oth Duchess, ;Airdrie Duchess 4th, 7th
luke, and 7th 11and 8th lDuchesses of Hill
mrat, live animals, and has lost four ani
nals by death. The above result has
iev(er p~e-haps been equaled by any one an
ma] at thUe same age. In December, 1875,
mt olTer of $25,000 for the 10th Duchess,
vas refused, and the same forher daughter
irdrie Duchess 40th. Since then the old
,ow has brought three helifers and one bull;
wo of the heifers have been sold for $33,
100, and there still remains the bull and
he heifer just come besides the dam,
vito will )robably breed a number of calves
Orilin of Oroquor.
Croquet players wvill be interested in the
>rigini of the game. Croquet is not, as
natty suippose, of mioderni birth, but may
>e traced through its yarious stages to Per
Ia as far back as the eighth centure.-Its
>rigin wvas 1)o10, with tihe Persians played
vith a long-handled mallet, called chsugan.
n the ninthi century the game made its
varn into the Easternm Empire, tihe original
nallet changing its form to a long staff end
ng in a brona bend( filled with a net-work
>f gut strinigs. "Thus," says a writer on
,he subject, "there appeared in the East as
lelonginig to the great sport of ball play on
orse-back, the first shapes of two imple
nents which remnodeled thme whole play life
>f miedlItval modern Europe, the ochugan
>eing the ancestor of thme mallets used in
3roquet, and1( of an endiless variety of other
>laying cluhs and bats, while tile bent staff,
vith its net-work, wasm a prhnitive racket."
We find that the or'iginal bali gamnes in
,vhich sticks were used were played on
torseb~ack, and instead of polo being an
mutgrowth of these sports played on' foot
he latter are the changes maIde in the Per
tian game of chiug/an, which, as has beeji
iaidi, watf the parent of all our games in
,vhich artificial means are uised to propel the'
>all. The translation from tihe chuganof
P'ersla to the short-htundied mallet used en
'oot wais easy and1( natural, and thesubstitu
lop of a club camne by gradual stages, the
tand being priobably thme original, imrple
nent, wvhicht was superseded by a rounded
IDoston in 1780. - .
Boston, town containing about 18,000
nhabitants, is built on asemni-meland, which
s greater in length than breadth, I think'
hat it is larger than Geneva; there ar@
zardlens, meadows and orchards in the cou
.rc of the town, and each family has god.
>rally a house to itself.' Th:' houses ar
teldom higher than one or' Men t~i
r'hey are of brick or wood, cover~'wl
boards8 and slates, having fiat :odfs, tidJ ~Y
many places .lightning conductxa
ill of which are throe-pointed~ Tir
ne or two sitraight streetsj thetd*n
miarkablo public buildings y there
lipacious harbor, . proiected 's~s&4*
which leave only two naird~o
itate of things rendering h~*
i~ble If fortified tbis 10ais~ a
tell yoi about Blostoku 'le
devoid of delicacyfl Q~
nd there i0s1h t1h a d