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T WL E T O W I N N S B O R , S . C ., A 10, 1880 - V O L I V -N O .96
rlllWEEX--LY EDION. WINNS30R",%S. C., AUGUST 10, 18.VL Y-O 6
DOWN BY THE BROOK IN THE 1EADOW a
It was down by the brook in the meadow,
Where the daisle and buttercups greiv,
And the wildfires glistened so brightly,
When kissed by the new fallen dew ;
Where the sound of the r.ppling brookiet,
As at merrily danced on its %yay,
A song of joyfql welcome sang
To me, one bright Summer's day.
It was down by the brook In the meadow,
One morn when4oh sun sho-ie serene.
I peacefully lay on the green, mossy bank,
Indulging In youth's Summer dream.
I dreamed of the days that have faded and
Those many sweet days of the past
I wondered it life would always be gay,
And Summer'forever could last.
It was down by the brook In the meadow
Dut how very diff<-rent the scene !
'Ti. winter. The Frost King's cold flugera
Have touched the soft sod once so green. I
In a -tight, ioy lbatn the brooklet i' bound
It nn longer sings merrily, oh I
And,the flowers that once grew dowi by the
Now sleop 'neath a coverlet of snow.
It was down by the brook in ti.e meadow
That an old man, feeble and gray,
With bonded head wrnt plodding along,
And unto himseilf thus did say :
"Uh. for those days that havo faded and gone,
'I hoso many sweet days of the past,
But, alas I I hpve found, in iny travels thro'
That ,4unter forever won't las ."
Ro.se Forrester's Escape.
"Everbody envies Rose Forrester."
The pale girl, in.goli-colored silk, lifted i
the broad lids from her clear eyes for a mo-t
ment, as t he speaker's words reached her
. ear; then she bent over the Ph1otographs b
upon her lap again.
She handled the pltticreswithani enthusi
aslic appreCiat1on of their worthI, so absorb.
ed in their examitination as to he totally un- It
conseiou of the tall, fair man who stood
quite near, looking down4ipon her wit ht an
apparen tly suddenly awakened interest. a
"Belonging to such a mce family, an 4i
heiress, and so beautiful I'
The continued words (if the speaker al
reached I oward Abanley's ear, but evident- il
ly Rose Forrester (lid not hear them. Sha I%
I irined with a sp'rki'lug smile to her hostess, ti
and was at ill talking with her (if the photo- 5(
graphs when 'Mr. Clinton brought Howard ti
Manley up for an introduclion. ft
As sie rose in the full light it revealed
thatl ahe was very young, scarcely twenty,
yet tall of stature, and wilh a marked re
pose of manner.
11er beauty was not conspicuous-shor
was too pale;,yet Manley saw how perfect
ly cut was every feature, how clear the
lark gray eyes, how dark the curling
lashes. The lips shut over little teeth as
white as milk, and the cont our of the face a
was a perfect oval. ' it
The girl's natural and spontaneous nan
ner tokd that. she gave the young man, at.
first. no unusual attention. Little by little she ri
observe I him-the fair hair shadowing the ci
white forehead, the (lark blue, penetrating ol
eyes, the unusual grace of figure, the fault- Is
Her manner was so cordial and friendly
and unmistakably charminig that Manley t
racked his brais for the chance of a )text.
meet.ing, but was obliged to a baindon it f(
when Miss Forr,ster was joinedi by huer
Bheo left tihe room, but instantly lhe thank
ed his good fortune at the finding of a ruby 0
scarf pin which he recognized as hers, It ci
was easy to deeide the prnamient' too valu.
* able to be entrusted to a messenger. I t.
was a presumption whilch lie would man
ageu with ease to call upon and restore it. u
Rose was not a belle. She had too much
dleptha and passi.on of nature to over be a
society woman; but she had her admirers, ti
and out of them site chose Manley,
She could not tell why, but, his looks, ha
words, every act had a charm for her, andl '
the eloquent blood tinging her cool cheok at gi
his approach told hain the story of bis ti
powbr. 0 o
lie was a proud maun-he might well T
have been a happy one-but lie ofteni wore
anm air of noticeable weariness aiid dlepres- J~
aion This, in answer~to Rose's gentle In. .tc
quiiries, he attributed to iiU health.
Spring was opening, wvith its vivid gun, P
shine, its balmy air,' and Rose was very in
happy. It seemed to her that it was tho tl
pleasant Influence of the season which mnade g
lher daily ways so lIght ; tIhe tender colors,
alsghts and sounds surroundinug her daily
walk with Manley in the park, which made at
them so enjoyable. .
Perhaps tihey helped to make her spirit
strong so thiat'shie dared say to herself, !'I Ir
love him !" and say it withoitt reservation o
or fear ; for she know that it was but a t
little while since she had first met htim, and bi
of his past history and much of his present, to
she knew nothIng.w
*No; she feared nothing for heorself. To
love and be surrounded with tenderniess wasc
- happiness enoulgh for her; site asked
fo~r no more. Yet some instinct or trace of
-worldly wisdom made her withhol her I
conidence from hersbrother, who was her
guardhian; he knosw nothing of the iti- o
Fronm the night she had first met Mfan
hey at Mrs. Clintoni's party, she never knew
any one who knew himi) intimately. HIe
told her that lie had nto living female "
1H0 evIdently hiati meanis at command,
and procured for her with an ingenuity n
whIch was almosi gebilts, the rarest and
Inost boandf'q gifts. tier deighited recep.I
Lietu of tiem seeied a mutual joy which
Preented any p0ssil le feeling of obliga- I
- ion on hrsi. Irtth4 full Ofpassion-a
ate imimiaseg o yoth sh'W eaf', d',rmb
ud blind to anything but, the fullness of
Her brother cane'hito thd music-room
Fhere she sat at the piano, dreamily play
1g, one day.
"Rose, will you give me your attention
:r a few minutes I"
le held an opn letter In his land. He
ras twenty years older thani herself, a
rorldwise prudent mait.
"Dr. Wingrove proposes for your hand.
ou are aware that it will be a very ad
iiable match, are you not ?"
Rose had a strange, stunned feeling, yet
lie bowed faintly. Front childhood she
ad been greatly uider her brother's con
"I should like to write him favorably,
:ose. Have you any objection 1"
She found herself uponi.lher feet shiver
ig in the May smishine.
I would have a little time, Edwin."
"Certainly, if you wish," though his
row slightly clouded. "The doctor will
at probably look.for an immediate an
The next moment Rose had escaped
'onm the room, and wits locked in her
During the next two hours she hidly
new what she was doing. She found her.
-If'walklug the floor, and( wringing her
ands. At last shesoppedl short, with a
mise of pride.
"There Is no reason---no reason in the
'orld. - J dare tell mrbrother why I will
it marry Doctor Wingrove."
o4e Forrester's Escape.
Doctor Wingrove was the noblest and
mitlest of men, silgulirly handsome,
'ealthy, and highly conncted, and barely
irty years of age. le had known her
ice childhood, iever made love to her,
it now that the offer of marriage had
mie to her, she iealized, somehow, that
s had always lovedi ner.
Hose wias conscious of a rackilig pain in
Nr temlles, at last. The chamber seemedi
Catching up her clom and hal, and tying
veil of heavy black lace across her face
ie went out into the street.
She soon WalKed herself weary, without,
mting her painful sensation, and, return
ig to the street in which her residence
as situated, entered the public inclosure
ces and shrubbery which ornamented the
iuare. A 'ou'ntain bubbled in the centre;
m stone vases of flowers sent a sweet per
ine upon the air.
So close to her home, she had no timidi
1, and, sinking upon a circular seat sir
undng a large tree, she gave herself up
her absorbing thoughts.
It was soot dark, yet she had not stir
d. In her black dress, in shadow, she
as qutte unnoticed by two men who cros
d the street from the opposite . side and
,t down behnd her.
She would then have risen and glided
vay quietly, but that thic movement was
rested by Howard Manley's voice.
"How soon ?" lie asked.
"Now, my dear .brotlier, I'll stand the
ik no longer. I've passed false money I
kough for you to shut me up for the rest
.my life, and I value my liberty, singu- f
rly enough," sneeringly.
"Well, well, I am willing enough to go,
red. Heaven knows that I am as sick of
c business as you can be. Coining isn't
I prosperity. In a new country I should
el like another man. But.-"'
"I amt stire of hera. But I don't like toi
'ge a hasty marriage. She has an old fox
a brother, who may be inconveniently
irious regarding my affairs. If we could
alt till the autumn, now, I mlight enter
me respectable business."
"I tell you it won't do l''
Both rose in their excitement, andl invol
starily walked away..
Plainly uinder the gaslight, IRpse sawv
oward Manley and is brother pass underI
e street. They were colners.
More dead than alive, she crept into the
>use. B.ut Rose wvas not a weak girl.
Ifore midnight she had placed Howard's
[ts in a close package and sealed with
cm a note, briefly stating that she had
erheard the conversation in the park.
te next mor'ning it 'was dispatched.
As 500o1 as her brother broached the sub
ot of Dr. Wingrove's proposal, shte asked.
have the latter call upon her.
lie came, with countenance so hlight of
irpose, with eyes so full of truth, that she
voluntarily contrasted Hloward's old, r'e
lent face with it; but she told Dr. Win
ove till the truth.
"Perhaps it was wrong, buit I loved hhin
loved him purely-and my hteart is torn
d bleeding. I am wild with a secret
ihywhich -I must hide from everybody.
I hand never known hinm-but I cannot
iagmne that. This terrible experience has
maied me; I am not the care- free, happy,
nating girl you know. 1 cannot love you;
it ,pity mie-be. my friend. I must talk I
80ome one, and, oh, ther'e is no one ia the I
L)r'ld so hsind as you."
"Was Dr', Witigrovd piqued by.this re
ptioin of his proposal? $0, he was 'too
morous and tender-hearted for thaft.
"Poor chil" lie said, in a tone osoothle
g that, for tho first time, Roe gavd way
a relievug burst of passionate weeping.
"What shall 1(10? Whlat do you think
me?" she asked at last.
"We *ill wait, and [ thiik that I love
*9 " lie answered quietly.
So two kept the secret of Rose's sdrrow
ore easily than one, and though her hear4
til.knew its pangs of giit for a time theo
mmer brou'ght oh#ge of scene Wbhi
as helpful to a spirit really brave and -In
Dr.- Wingroye -joind - Nose and her
'other at the seashore, to find brightness
tioeyoung air,'s eyoe.again, and to the.
tter it waes weet tre!all so kind and noble
Togethier.lhey olhlnhed thoe ok drank
In the free air. watched the sunsets and
the sea. 0 old they had been congenial,
and now they seemed inior happily so.
There i8 usully a sacreducss about first
love, and perhaps it is expected of me to
record the death oi my heroine of a broken
heart, bnt I must tell the truth. -
In the Autumn Rose married Dr. Win.
grove. Sie is one of the happinest wives
in the world. The'flIrst love fell fiomx her
like a false blossom,while the second ripen.
ed Into richest fruit.
' he 011 Pali Tree.
Of the multitudnous species of the
Palm Family, the products of a few only
have found their way into American and
liuropean commerce,-the most valued be
ing those of the Cocoanut, the Date and
the Oil Palms. Of these the ippearance
Df the last is the least familiar to most per
ions as unlike the others, it has never
litherto been accurately pictured In scion
title and popular works. In Western
rropical Africa there are vast regions
thickly covered with the members of this
species, and it Is from this torrid region,
aspecially from the River Bonny, that the
largest quantities of palm oil find their
way into the the Ame,Ican markets. The
trade with the natives Is carried on chiefly
bIy barter, glass beads of various forms,
sizes, and colors being amonig the principal
irticles of exchange. The trunk of the
tree from which palm oil is obtained Is sel
Liom over thirty feet high,and is sarmount
d with a tuft of long pianate leaves garn
ishied with prickly petioles. The flowers
ire dioccious, and borne in dense heads,
sometimes two feet long and two or more
reet in circuniference. In fhese closely
:rowded spadices the fruit is so compactly
Aistered that the bunches bear a strong re
ieiblance to large piue-apples. The inde
vidual fruits are about an inch and a half
ong, somewhat pear-shaped and when fully
ripe of a )right orange color. They con
sist of an outer soft, pulpy substance fron
which the best oil is obtained,inside which,
rorming about one-fourth of the whole, is a
very hard, stony shell hiclosing the seeds,
mnd yieldng when causlied, a clear, limpid
product, called palh-nut oil. The fruit
when sulliclently ripe, are gathere I b. men,
,>oiled in large earthenware pots by women,
mnd then crushed in mortars. eThey are
text placed in large clay vats filled with
vater, and women tread out the oil which
*ises to the surface and is skimmed off. It.
a thni once more boiled to get rid of the
vater, and packed away in barrels or casks
or exportation. It still retains the color
ng matter of the fruit, which is removed by
iubsequent processes in numerous factories
i Europe, either by bleaching in shallow
>ans on the surface of hot water or by vari
ous chemical methods of treatment. As
.ach drupe affords only about one-sixteenth
)f an ounce of pure oil and each tree only
,hree or four pounds, an immense amount
f labor is required to procure the product
md a vast area of forest is annualfy destroy
Ad to supply the demands of commerce,
Good palm oil Is a fatty subetance of the
:onsistency of butter, 9f a rich orange coloi,
t sweetish taste, and an oder like that of
riolets or orris root. Is Is now e.;ensively
ised in the manufacture of candles, soap,
i1d also as an axle grease, chiefly for the
vheels of railroad cars. At a temperature
)f from 75 degrees to 95 degrees F. it
nelts to a very thin fluid, and the older it
s, the greater the heat required to liquify
t. By ige and exposure it becomes rancid
md assumes a whitish tinge. It is per
'ectly solble in other, slightly so in cold
6lcohol, but readily dissolves in hot alcohol,
hough on cooling it solidifies. It conRists
>f margerine, oleine, and a solid fat like
tearine, which is called palnatine, and
onstitutts two-thirds of its weight. Palm
Ill is used more extenaively for the manu
'acture of candles than for any other pur
>ose ant tile process, though somewhat
engthy, Is hlighly interesting. Having been
neited by a jet of steam introduced into
lie casks, aind freed from all impurities, it
s mixed with from one-seventh to one
ixtha of its weight of sulphuric acid and
riskly agitated for about two hours In
vihel steam maintains a temperature of
bout 850 degrees. The sulphuric acid and
heo glycerine, which Is an Ingredient of its
omponent fats, are in this way decom
>osed and escape partly by subsequent
vashimg. The Impure acids iae then distil
ed in copper stills steamt-haeatd to a temp.
nrature of 000 degrees. Th'ie darkc residue
n the boilers is made to yield still more
>il by heavy pressure and the black refuse
lhat remlains is used for fuel. Whein cool
d, the distilledl fat is broken Into cakes
ighteen inches long and about an inch
nid three-quarters thick. These are spread
pen squares of cocon-nlut, ma~tting and1( are
lieu lied on top of each other and submit
ad to hydraulic pressure at a temperature
f seventy-flye degrees. Thle fat obtained
nay be run at once Iato candles for -the
Caropean andc American markets, but for
ropical use, it Is again submit ted to pres
ure at. a temperasure of 120 degrees.
(leorge Inanerofta Workahop.
Mr. Bancrqft's wprhshop is upon the see.
indl floor, in a large square rooim facing the
treet, ia Washungton, D. U. What a place
f rest and study! Great leather and
haker chairs, a great desk In the n,iiddle of
lhe room, and all about the walls books and
ooks; from tihe ceiling to the floor, on
very side, books! N~ot aninich of space
hat Is not filled. And he has four rooms
ike tis. Th'le table was strewn with
saiphlets, books andi bushels of documents
ad manucripts. The picture as you enter
s one you have often seen. An old man
itting at hIs desk at work, and a young
eeetary opposite copying, verifying and
strrnging.docupmenta and both encarled by
valle;of books! \'ith}n the tour rooms
otmpomg: Isslibrary, Mr'2.lancroft lhas
teV twelve thonsand volumes Trhore are
arger collections of books i private houses,
mut Mr. *Bancroft's hib rij remarkable
or; eiig 1).10 1'0plctt ttnbktensitVe. it
s, ceularly richs In to; beat editionls of
mndent chossics,' and is almost all the
6table works in the mobdern European Ian
uaesrT# gea feature9pof library
ry hAs suel, ii 0ollection of orlgh Ix docu
ihontis oft i miitary or%dPlttli~caeharacter
elbling to the country. Hie llegan his great
uistorleal ,work in 18'25. It was in this
ear he began to gather materIals and to
ay out the work that will make his name
great whuile the world lasts.
---New ,Orleakeq W4 (ounjhl,d in 1717,
t:ndesr the re.gent'f 01 he D)uske of Or
Lord ilyron's Datighter.
.Few persons,probably have over read the
commiienclux and concluding stanzas of the
third canto of "Child Harold" without a
(lop Interest in the "Ada" lie touchingly
apostrophizes. The story of ier life, Inti.
mately enough known in those repertories
of unwriten biographies of the aristocracy
-the Paul Mall;Cluh,-has not often been
told abroad. It will be remembered that
the first and enly born of that unhappy
marriage of Lord Byron to Miss Milbank
was just five weeks old when the mother
and wife, for remasons never satisfact.
orily explained, returned to her father's
house. hero the infant row into girlhood
under the care of tier mnther, and here, af.
ter Lady Byron's accession to tier property,
where the foundaioas of August. Ada's
education laid. Inheriting uncommon
genius, though, as we shall presently ex
plain, wholly diverse from her father's, she
was brought up with the most tender care,
and educated by the most thorough train
ing. Hier personal beauty developed with
her mnd. Sho.described by a person
who frequently sAiv ier, when, at the- ago
of twenty years, she was living with tier
mother at Clifton Springs, as one of the
most queenly presence and graceful car
riage, her complexion fresh, tier features of
perfect contour, her eyes large and brilh.
ant, her head set upon her shoulders like
her lather's, her hair chesnut, abundant
anti wavy, and her person slightly embon
point, but perfect in proportions. To these
charms tWere wore added a voice of great
sweetness, ard a Vivacity in conversat.ion
that held in thirall all who approached tier.
Hier tastes, however were for. pure mathe
matics. Whether. owing to her education
for she read no :poetry, and never saw a
work of Byron il past her pubrty-or to
inheritance frokn tier mother, tier under
standing of the eXact'sciences was excelled
by no woman of her time, except Mrs. Son
erville, and, indeed, by few of the other
sex. In proof of her extraordinary attain
ments In this reOpect, it is mentioned by
time late Charles Babiage, in his "Passages
from the Life ot.a Philosopier," that she
informed liin that she had translated for
amusement "Menabrea's Memoir of time
Analytical Engine" from the Bibliotheque
Universelle." He proposed that she should
add notes of her own. This she did, ex
tending them to three times the 'length of
the original memoir. Babbage says that
to all persons capable of tInderstanding tie
reasoning it furnishes "a demonstration of
analysis are copable of being executed by
machinery." This translation with the
notes may be fo;nd in Vol. XXXI of the
"Transactions of the Royal Society."
Ada Byron was married to the Earl of
Lovelace in March, 18,35. The marriage
was not an unhappy one. H1er liisband,
respectable in talents and domestic habits,
Lord Lieutenant of his county and high In
social position, suitable in age, and possess
ed of large estates, regarded his wife with
mingled feelings of affection and adnira
tion. Unwilling that she should be known
publicly as authoress, lie, nevertheless, of
toner than once gave permission that certain
of her articles on various braqches of
elohee, about wiich thinking inn made
inquiry, might be acknowledged as her's,
Children were born to them, their tastes
were no more dissimilar than was consis.
tent with common If not promotive of un
usual barmony: and their home was often
spoken of by those old enough to remember
the two, by furnishing a happy contrast to
that which tier mother had abandoned 1
twenty years before. But Lady Lovelace
craved excitement. Neither town life nor
country was sulflcient to satisfy her inheri
ted desire for constant stimulus. Neither
fter study nor tier pen, the care of tier
children, nor the pleasures of society, hter
rank among the aristocracy, nor the ad
miration her beauty and gifts received'
wherever she appeared, were suflicient. She
speculated in the funds, bet at horse races,
bought and 801(1 ini the stock market, and
final ly, during time railway mania, that, un
der the lead of Hudson, was second eonly
In Its universality amoDig the rich and great
South Sea bubble of the early days of the
last century, partook largely in thme yen
ture. All this could well enough be with
out the knowledge, as it was, of her hus
band. Beside the ample "pin money"
allowed tier m the imarriage-settlement,
large returns came to hem- from trust
funds held( for her in her own right. Bumt
she went too deep. 116r risks were unfort
unate; and though she aught have recov -
ered from all this, most inopport,unely tier
attorney became a bankrupt, and heor oper
ations wvere expmose<d, in his assets before
the Courts, to the world. Terribly morti
fied, she appealed to her husband, who, to
save the scandal of any legal process, can
celed tier liabilities by a very considerable
p)ecuniary sacrifice. Trho shock however,
was too great for her excitr,ble nature, and
it hasi alwvays beeni believed by those who
best knew what followved that the shame she
felt at the exposure was the jremote, if not
tihe proximate, cause of hier death.
A rant Work.
Somuewhere about 1,000 workmen, 000
or 700 wagonis, seventeen or eighteen lo
comotive engines, three steam "navvhes"
and a qutantity of minor machinery of vari
ous kinds have been engaged since 1875 at
the southeast end1 of London in'a work conm
pared with wivich the building of the
pyramids--with modern appliances-would
have been no very signal teat. Hitherto
thle one entrance to the Victoria docks
from the Thames had been at Blackwali
point, but, now there is a dock capable of
receiving alt vessels, no matter what they
might be. T1hre and hialf miles of wvalls
have been built, inclosIng nInety acres of
water. These walls are forty feet high,
five feet thick ot tIme top, and eighteen or
nineteen feet thick at the bottom, the
whole of this enornious masa being comnpos.
ed of solid concrete, for whIch 80,000 tons
of Portland cement have been used. Somec
4,000,000 cubIc feet of earth: have been
dug out. It may assist' the finiagination
somewhat to slate that if it, Were filled Into
ordinary carts the vehicles would form an
unbroken line 7,000 miles long. Tme ex
cavatIons have gone through a submerged
forest, ant among other curiositIes dug out
have been a reindeer's horn, a Roman vase',
and what is ouipposed to be ancienta British
canoe carved out of solid oak. The latter
is now in the British museum. The new
entrance below Wootwichm ill save about
three and a half miles of river navi
g atien1 whicb, in the ease of vessels with
heavy draft, is of course a matter of very
great Importance. The London and 8t..
Kthrino's and Viotoria Docks Company
are.now prepared for vessels of all kinds,
not. excluding the.largest tronolads of the
British bavy) The aot has been est irmat
ed toundly. at $s,.00,000.
'The question whether violin making Is a
lost art is answered In tie negative by 0.
L. Chapin, who has been an enthusiastic
student of the subject for thirty years.
Nothing relating to music, he says, das
been more fruitful of silly legends, romance
and superstition than tile violin. - Not that
the old masters did not pi-oduce somte grand
instruments. But it Is a mistake to sup
pose that they worked by a rulo, system or
secret, which Invariably gave good results;
that a violin is excellent simply because it
bears the name of Da Salo, Maggini, Amati,
Stradivarius, or Guaruerius, or that the
best productions of these masters can never
again 1 )e equalled. Stradivarlus, for in
stance, made more poor than good violins,
and ande more bad ones than any other
maker of the great period. He is said to
have turned out 2000 instruments, but only
twelve really fine cues of his make are now
known to be in existence. Da Salo and
Maggini each made less than 500 instru
ments, but only about a dozen of each
maker are extant. In a recent work on the
subject, Charles Goffrie, after an exainiia
Lion of the Crenionas in the collections.,of
Plowden, Gillott, Villaume, Bojour, aid
c)thers, says that lie "found that they were
decidedly hard in tone, resembling new in
struients." And Prof. Le Brun, wio
played in the same concerts with Paganmni,
uid had in his hands nearly all the noted
Uremonas fifty and sixty years ago says
that the Cuarnerius from which that great
violinist drew such wonderful tones would
have attracted little attention in the hands
3f an ordinary professional. Mr. Chaplin's
Donclusion is that "the old' makers made
3omec instruments as good as can be
mnade, but emphatically no better. Also,
they made sone instruments as goodi as can
be made now, but the larger number made
by them are not up to the present standard
:f power, and the few that are up to this
standard are* m the hands of artists or i
.ollections, and entirely out of the market.
A large number of good violins h:ve been
inade since the great period, and it is safe
to say that a large number of instruients
bearini the marks of the old makers and
xceredited to them were never near Cre
hbonn." The old insti uments do not ap
pear to have been made according to any
Axed rule or principle, but on the "cut and
ry" plan. Nor is there any unitorndlty in
1heir make or published directions concern
ing their constructi:n. I. Chaplin tells
is that he lias.owned two pf the masters'
natrunients of the great period and fifty
nstruniouts of the best reputed imitators,
tis exanined imore than 2000 other violins
3f various grades and patterns, and has read
what has been published on the subject,
but that lie has failed to find "even how
ong to make the f's in a given sized insru
nent, to say nothing of where they should
)c placed." He gives certain ratios, Incas
iremonts, and directions for constructing a
niolin in accordance with the lawi of sound,
md remarks that 'instruments made to
lemonstrate this theory can be seen."
Violins, he claims, can and should be made
>n scientific principles, as other musical in
itruments are. As good violins can be
produced here as have been made in Cre
nona, and the chlet reason why this is not
tone, ie says, is that the people will not
ay for them.
'The Lo,tttry of Life.
Alary LeSlie, having been left. a poor or
)han. sought to earn le- living by working
L a designer in wall papers. This hurt the
eclings of her fashionable cousins, the Per
ivals, with the exception of young Iom,
vhoadmired her greatly. Mr. D'Eresby,
millionaire, wanting designs for an ele
,ant house ie was about to build, was re
erred to Mary, and stepping to her table at
he furniture establishnment--"Are you the
irawing girl ?'' lie demanded, somewliat
"'Yes, sir, I am," said Alary, demurely.
"Well," said M1r. D)'Ercsby, aifter a mis
nent's survey ot the work upion whIch she
via engaged, "I believe you're the very (one
o carry out my Ideas. Mly carriage isl at
he dloor-get into it."
Alary, bewildered, was whirled upi along
Piccadilly, by the side of a man wiho talked
>f Alichael Angelo, Raphael asnd Leonardo
la Vinci, as if they were people he had
lust met. It was very strange, but, after
til, there was an element of "niceness"
ihout it. Mary Leslie had had a dearth
>f adventures in her life up to thie present
late, andl here seemed the dlawinsg promise
Mr. D'Eresby'd suidden apparition on the
natrimonial horizon caused no inconslder
ible sensation, as may readily be conjec
ured, and half the marriageable young
adies in towna prepared their arrowy
mnilles and( glances for his heart-among
)thers, Josephine Percival.
"'I imust miarry rich, " argued the young
*ady, "for I have such expensive tastes,
mad I should so enjoy a hadsoae honmie.
In aure I'm as good-looklug all the aver
sge, with a little lily powder, and my hair
nicely crepc, and there's n1o reason I
mhouldn't win the prize. At all events, I'll
"Thant's it," said Tfim, scornfully ; ''go
an and wini."
"You're a goose, Tiom I" said Miss P'er
~ival, somewhat discomfited.
"I may beo a goose," anisweredi Tom,
"but I ain't a girl, glory be thanked I
Whiat foo)s they all are---except Polly Les
Miss Percival was introduced by (lint of
apecial maaneuvering that very evening to
Sir. D'Eresby, and congratulated herself
>n making considerable headway in the
rood graces of that extrenmely eligible gen
loman. And as time went on, app)earanlces
crew more and more favorable. Mr
L'Eresby was ovideantly amused by her
irtless- prattle and lisping observations,
md1( it was surely but one step from amuse
nent to d1ev ,tion. TIo be sure, lie never
maid anything that she cotuld construAe into.
piecial meaning on theo ahatrlmomal ques
.ion; but as long as timo andl the dictionary
were open to la r, who knew what might
iext transpire ? Mrs. P'ercival began
ravely to consider thme personal merite of
matma aid reps silk for- a wedding dress;
whIle TIoma, shrewdest of thenm alt, bit the
md of lis slate pencil, anid grimnned like a
One boamy summer morning, Miss Per
3ival made dne of a party of ladies who
wvero ad'.dtted to view the elegant D)'E~reby
mainsion, ntow just on the verge of comiple
tion. Josephmine was In higo spirits, of
"lie certainly must have . smeaht some
Ithing," thought Josephine, 'or he never
wot4 have asked -me so parttddhlatry to
conie and view thme rooms."
Whether Mr. JWEresbmye nteanlg ap
plied equatly to the seven other maiden
and two blooming widows who accgim
panied her, Miss Percival, not' being of i
strictly logical nature, never paused to con
"How do you like this rooit" askei
Mr. D'Eresby, as they paused in one whilel
looked as much like the heart of a blui
bell as a furnished apartment well couh
- A velvet carpet IH shaded azures-a blui
paper strewn with tiny fern leaves in gol
-blue satin ch irs, and a ceiling just tintef
with the pale cerulean of the midday sky
It preserved a strange and pleasing hudi
viduality in every feature and corner.
"1Oh. it's bee-yu-ti-ful I" murmured Jo
sophine, clasping her kid-gloved hands in i
species of lady-like ecatacy.
"I am glad you like It," said D'Eresby
movng back a tiny marble statuette o
Eurydice, and critically adJUting an aqua
rium in the window. "This Is to be Mrs
D'Eresby's sittina-room I"
"Your mother?" asked Josephine, smil
"Oh, you puzzling man I" crled Jose
phine, making a little dive at him with hei
lace fan. "You know very well you're no
"I shall be very soon."
hliss Percival blushed. The seven othei
young ladies looked enviously at her, and
the two widows tossed their heads, and
muttered something about "artful minxes,'
wiile MIr. D'Eresby threw open a door lead.
ing to a suite of rooms painted and panellet
in green and silver.
'I he first apartment, evidently a sitting
room, was not empty. A girl in a l)Iain
gray walking-dress stood in front of ont
of the malachite mantels, making sorm
little drawing or memorandum op the back
of a letter. sho turnedi as the party flowe
into the rooni, and Josephine Percival
stood face to facP wkih her cousin, Alar3
"You -need'nt stare so, Joe!" said ron
Percival, who was looking over the shoul
(der of the y:injg artiste ; "it's Polly Les
lie-and she designed all these wall-papei
patterns; yea, every one of them. "
" &Wlo ? " inquired Mrs. Tnaddeus Tor
rington, the prettier of the two widows.
bits Percival turned away, with a fact
tihe color of new mahogany.
"It's only a designing girl thait--that
maimna he employed at different times'
faltered Jo.e:phine, secretly resolving that
the offending artizaness should have-'such a
"talking to" this evening, as she should
not soon forget.
'I1 beg your pardon, Miss Percival," said
Mir. D'Eresby, citeliing her words, and
coloring high with haughty anger. "To
avoid any more such awk ward mistakes,
let me introduce to you all, is Leslie, my
future wise I"
"Look at Joe I look at Joe I" croaked
Tom, with malicious glee. "She looks as
if she'd beet taking a quinine pill I"
Bat nobody had eyes for any one but the
pretty young girl In the gray walking suit,
whose blushes and dimples, as she orept
shyly to Mr. D'Eresby's outstretched arms,
looking Infinitely charmilg.
It was the romnantic truth. Mr. D'Eres
by had lost his heart hopelessly among the
arabesques and labyrinths designed by
Mary Lesli's pencil ; and she had scarcely
finished the Patterns for the new house-he
fore bir. 1) Eresby asked her to come and
live in it. Tom had long been her only con
fidant-a str4nge one, yet not unappreci
"I don't deserve to be so happy, Tom,'
said she, smiling, yet tearful, as she told
'Yes, you do,'' said Tom, hugging her
like a young bear. "My eyes! what will
Joe say when sile hears it?"
And Misas Josephine, instead of being
bride of the grand D'Eresby wedding, was
forced to descend into the very secondary
position of bridesmaid.
"'Ain't it all jolly Y" was master Tom's
Theo H.y-Tme Circmus,
Th~ie small boy lookethi upon the circus
poster when it is redl, white andl blue; and
becometh 1intoxicated with deh ghit.
F"or wvhmat is it that carrieth miore joy to
the heart, of the smail boy than a (lead wall
covered with circus p)osters?
Echo might answer, a dieadhlead( ticket
coverei wvith the legend "Admit, One."
And as the boy gazeth on the pictin e of
inglescrlbable animals, and upon the im
possible anties of lightly clothed men and
women, lis imagination maketh all tihe pic
tures realities and lie is willinig to stake his
reputation as a champion marbie pilayer
that the coing circus is thec best in the
And he longeth to go.
So lie is joined by other boys of his age,
and they all gaze upon01 the posters andi drink
ini t,he beauties thereof.
And they miarvel amoing themselves.
And one boy sayeth ho has never seen so
wondierfuli a display of circus p)ictures.
And they soon fall to speculating among
th,cmnselves as to wheothie each performer
really doeth all time tings which lie is re
presented as doing.
And another one sayeth lie lias seen as
wonderful performances as are pictured out
on time posters.
But his companions laugh hun to
So it, comneth to pass that time boy who
haths seen all these tiings is forced to hold
lis peace (providing lhe fias not already de
voured it), for verily the majority ruleth
among the boys.
Soon all thme important question comnethm
up regardIng the prlospects for crawling unmi
decr the canvas, amid they wax enthusiastIc,
amid In their ml,uds they are all ini the circus
on thme front seal, each one having found a
good p)lace to crawl umnder.
But soon one Qf their number recollec,eth
the fact thmat lie wvas once caught in the act,
and as lie jilates on thme strength of the can
vas men in general, and time one who col
lared him in particular, the courage of the
group oozes. put of -their iudividual finger
But the company adopteth preamble am]
resolutions to tie effect that it is necessary
that each boy attend he circu4.
And one layeth ou 'a-roftirt his'ig
borhood"' and Wo~ fn ilidpicce'dI oh4 iror
whichi his fingers olutclios, t verily in the
end it contribuieth to the circus fund.
Any man who hath ever been a small
boy kno.vethi these thmimge to 1B0 true.
-Japan lhas now a.large nil~h ractory
and its prqducts are salid to be tquaL te
s Quasia Vs.Mosquitoes.
A few yOars ago we had soffie peoch
. trees which being on a wall exposed to
draugth, were annually blighted. One
j died, and the now wood of the others were
i not more that a hand's length. A scIen
a tifle friend advised me to try.a weak solu.
I tion of quassia to water them with, and
the success was complete. Blight was
3 prevented. The first year the trees bord
I well and the wood was elbow length or
l more. I next tried quassia In the v1nery.,
- instead of lime-washing the walls to got
. rid of the green fly, one watering with the
quassla dismissed them' in a day. Our
- head gardener, who had previously much
experience in nursery grounds, wondered
that lie had never heard of it before. lie
now uses it on all cmes as a protection
f from flies and blight. The dilution goes a
. long way: one pound of chips of quassia
wood boiled and rcbolled in other water,
until he has eight gallons of the extract
. for is garden engine. le finds it unadvis
able to use it stronger for some plants.
This boiling makes the quassla adhesive,
and being principally a%pled to the under
r leaf, because most blight settles there, it is
not readily washed off by rain, Quassia
is used in mediclne as a powerful tonic,
and the chips are sold by chemists at frin
sixpenec to a shilling per pound. The
tree is idlgenous to the West Indies and to
South America. And now as to gnats
and inosquitoes, a young friend of nilue,
severely bitten by mosquitoes and un.
willing to be seen so disfigured, sent for
some quassla chips and had boiling water
poured upon them. At night after wash.
Ing, she dipped her hands into the quassia
water and left it to dry upon her face.
'his wits a perfect protection, and contin
ued to be so when ever applied. . The pas
tilles sold in Florence and elsewhere,
which are vaunted to be safeguards against,
mosquitoes, are froin my own experience,
of no use. At the approach of winter,
when lies and gnats get into the houses
and sometimes bite venomously, a grand
child of mine, eighteen niontlis old was
thus ittacked. I gave the nurse some of
my weak solution of quassia, to be loft to
(ry on its face, and lie was not bitten
again. It Is is inocuous to children, and
it iny be a protection also against bett
insects, which I have had not the oppor
tunity of trying. When the solution of'
quassia is strong, it is we'l known to be an
active fly-poison, and is mixed with sugar
to attract flies but this is not strong enough
to kill sit once. If it be true that mosqui
toes have been imported into one of the
great hotels in - the south of London, it
might be very useful to anoint some of
the furniture with it. Then a strong
solution with sugar, set about the roonts,
ought to clear theni out.
An India slian1, like a wonderful paint
ing, possesses beauty untold to the culti
vated eye. More wonderful still is this
beauty when we think of the lolig, weary
hours occupied in making it, and the many
stitches Inserted slowly and carefully by
different h%nds. The odd-looking. leaf
you admire in one corner, and the gay
colored one in another, exemplify the old
story-of -"extremes meeting;" for the pos
sibility is that they were made fifty miles
apart, and then wedded together by the
calculating merchant. It is a little curious
to think that in this manufacture the maker
loes not know his pattern, even If lie
Makes the entire shawl; for lie makes by
written di ections, and on t te wrong aide,
using a needle eiery muou like a natch
sharpened at both osie. To make a hand
sonic shawl requires one yeur's steady Work,
and one is insensibly reminded of life's own
story-he thread going in and out for so
long a ti;ne with no knowledge of what the
result, will be. "'I'he Vale of Cashmere''
to-dlay furnsishies in one way as many beau
ties as it (lid when Moore sang of its; and
If Lailla R~ookh does not wear the sort,
clinging dIrapery, Elnglish and American
beauties dQ. Orientalism being 509 ght for
in all its phases just now, La Mode deLcreest
that, shawls shall be worn more largely than
ever before, and suggests a gracefnl method
-for it is hard to wear a shawl gro efully-.
that will look well on nil; It is, of course,
thne doisman. With little trouble an India
shawl may be transformed into one, theo
duli green osr chilly-booking blue that forms
the centre of the shawl beiig caught up in
wrinkles by ain Oriental silk p)lcqueos to as
stime the shape of a hood. Someo ladies
have their shawls cut, into coats, which are
elegant and stylish-looking, but one 1hnds
uploni examiniation that no wvoman is bar
baric enough t.o emit a real India shawl.
Shiawls useud for t,his p)urpose are generally
imnitationis of the ladia, the Deccat aiid the
Vailloy Cashmere. Ari exquisite wvork ot'
art, Is ma )elhsi shawlv, which, after having
all the riches ofOriental colorhigs besto wedt
tipons it, is further gracedi by threads of
gold that, show their presenice by gleaming
anid glistening at, each .movement of the
wearer. A (ahlmero variety, made In
Fr-ance, is In black, cr.iam and cocher; -
wIth soft, clinging-looking fringe to m"tch,
andi will be ext,ensively used at the seasuide
In combination with bright (dresses that need
somseting neutral to tone them down.
Uises of Corkc.
Thie lightness of cork smakes it superior
to all ot,ier substances for life preservers,
.for isurir.g the buoyancy of lIfe boats. It
is also employed as buoys to float pete, anid
in raking waterproof shoes. It has ales)
been converted tito and used as gun waid
dmngs. Cork, as is well known, is a nloi
conductor of heat and is porous. These
peculiarIties have been taken advantage of
I the manufacture of water coolem s, whtchl
are much used in Spain. They are made
of slabs of the wood, bent round circulaur
heads of the same, and bodnd with hools.
The porosit,y of the cork allows the water
to percolate slowly to the suyfae, and thnere
to cool In evaporating, whilhe its noni.cog- .
ductiug nature prevents the heat of the sunm
-f,o a warminsg tihe water within. Abpont
80 years ago an ingenIous Fre,nehmuan Intro
duced mattresses and cushIfad's whc~h
cork reduced to dust or shrede # ~~b
si,tt.fo$r feathers, hair or wool tlh'
be used alone or combined with' thea
mentioned materlals. It was clataq4U y
those w9uld n)ake es beds, Bsntootl4htt
anid elastic, anid especially welt adaptedht'.
use eit sea, where, inn case eof 4aeg~o~
they mighlte available a4 iAfe t O
Bat it ia-etIaeht tliat C cooat