194
BEFORE AND AFTER.
BEFORE.
She ■waits and listens. Footsteps fall.
She knows they are not his.
She waits and listens for a sound
That sweetest music is.
He comes, and witn a sudden thrill
And heartbeat loud and clear, j
She does not hear, she does not see.
She ferls that he is near.
And coyly lifting to his face
Her eyes of heavenly blue.
She murmurs, in love’s softest tones,
“ My darling, is it you ? ”
• after. - -*
Again she listens. Footsteps reach
' And 1 footsteps pass her door.
She listens: but her needle flies
More swiftly than before.
She hears, at length, the tread that time
And cares are making slow.
Aud with a start that sends her chair
Hard rocking to and fro.
Springs to the landing, and with voice
More shrill than any lute’s
She screams above the balusters,
“ Augustus, wipe your boots! ”
A Visit to Muggur Peer, in the
Scinde Frontier Province
of India.
It may probably interest our read
ers to hear of one of the most extra
ordinary assemblages of the many
wonderful creatures which inhabit
this our sphere. At a distance of
nine miles from Kurrachee —a town
rapidly growing in reputation and
wealth as an important sea-port town
on the northwest frontier of India—
is a place called Muggur Peer, “ mug
gur ” signifying alligator or croco
dile, “ peer,” holy, as the muggers are
held sacred by Hindoos and Moham
medans. The drive to Muggur Peer
from Kurrachee, is across a flat ex
panse of desert, the only sign of veg
etation being cactus in huge tangled
bushes, but without leaves or flowers,
though we were told that they flower
in the months of May and June,
when it is almost too hot to drive
across this desert. As we approach
nearer Muggur Peer, which is adja
cent to the river Hub—whence these
animals come —there arise from the
sandy desert steep hills of barren
rock, destitute of vegetation. Part
of the road traversed is very rough
and very heavy, so that it is necessa
ry to be accompanied by a third horse
which, when requisite, is attached
with ropes to the carriage in front of
the pair, and ridden postillion. Once
mw i
tie mat huts, inhabited by a rather
wild-looking people. Cows, goats,
chickens, etc., were scattered about
around the huts, apparently trying to
discover food amongst the sand.
The first permanent building we saw
after passing through a narrow gorge
in the rocks, is the Dak, or traveler’s
bungalow. Passing this, we soon
arrived at a pretty grove of palm and
banyan trees, affording grateful shade
whence we saw the peer or temple,
on the summit of a high mound.
The temple is white, and of dome |
shape, surrounded by an irregular,
castellated wall. Strewn thickly all
over the surrounding ground, are
countless tombs, curious little stone
erections about a foot high, 6ome few
of them being carved in relief, and
here and there are a few colored tiles.
These are the graves of the people
who are brought to this part of the
world, as the ground is considered
particularly holy. At the foot of the
wall surrounding the temple, is a hot
spring of water, which is a specific
for diseases of the skin; hard by this
is a high mud wall, inclosing a few
bushes, and a very muddy piece of
water, the whole not more than forty
or fifty feet across. This small mud
dy pool contains no less than eighty
of the muggers, varying in size from
four to fourteen feet long. Their
mouths, when open, are not unlike
those of the hippopotamuses, and their
roar is fierce and loud; they are am
phibious. Their eyes glance lazily
through little slits from which they
look out quite unconscious of the sen
sations they create, in devouring raw
the carcasses of goats, camels, etc.,
which are given them by Mussulman
and Hindoo pilgrims, who come to
the shrine of the purifying springs.
The sightseer can have his curiosity
gratified by paying for the slaughter
of a goat, value four shillings, -which
is immediately skinned; and it is
very marvelous to see the facility with
which one of these muggers can
srvallow the entire head of the goat,
or the leg with its hoof; truly the di
gestion of a muggur is mighty. Al
ter the head and legs of the goat have
been fought for and devoured "then
comes the finale. The carcass of the
goat is thrown in, and wonderful is
the commotion, and also horrid is
the smell ol the small dirty pool, as
these eighty creatures flop over and
over in their anxiety to get a bite;
and in less than one minute not a ves
tage is left of the goat’s carcass.
This may read as if it were a very
horrid sight, and certainly it is rather
60, but it has a great similarity with
that of a fox being thrown to a pack
of excited hounds.
A Big Mistake. ;
Recently our church had anew
minister.
He is a nice good sociable gentle
man ; but being- from a distant state,
of course he was totally unacquainted
with our people.
Therefore it happened that during
his pastoral call he made several ludi
crous blunders.
One of them is as follows :
The other evening he called upon
Mrs. Hadden. She had just lost her
husband, and naturally supposed that
his visit was relative to the sad oc
currence.
So, after a few common-places had
been exchanged, she was not at all
surprised to hear him remark:
“ It was a sad bereavement, was it
not, Mrs. Hadden ? ”
“ Yes,” faltered the widow.
“ Totally unexpected ? ”
“ Oh, yes; I never dreamed of it.”
“ He died in the stable, I suppose?”
“ Oh, no; in the house.”
“ Oh—well, I supposed you must
lave thought a good deal of him.”
“ Of course sir ” —this with a vim.
The minister looked rather sur
prised, crossed his legs aud renewed
the conversation.
“ Blind Btaggers was the disease, I
pelieve ? ” he said.
“ No, sir,” snapped the widow,“apo
plexy.”
“ Indeed ; you must have fed him
too much.”
“ He was always capable of feeding
pimself, sir.”
“Very intelligent he must have
been. Died hard, didn’t he.”
“ He did.”
“ You had to hit him on the head
with an axe to put him out of misery,
I was told.”
Mrs. Hadden’s eyes snapped fire.
“ Whoever told you so did not
sneak the* truth,h*uaMUv; -an
swered. •• dameS died naturally.”
“ Yes,” repeated the minister, in a
slightly perplexed tone, “ he kicked
the side of the barn down in his last
agonies, did he not ? ”
“ Is o, 6ir, he didn’t.”
“ Well, I have been misinformed, I
suppose. How old was he ? ”
“ Thirtv-five.”
“ Then he did not do much active
work. Perhaps you are better with
out him, for you can easily supply his
place with another.”
“ Never, sir—never will I see one
as good as he.”
“ Oh, yes. you will. He had the
heaves bad, you know.” t
“ Nothing of the kind.”
“ Why, 1 recollect I saw him, one
day, with you on his back, and I dis
tinctly recollect that he had the
heaves, and walked as if he had the
string halt.”
Mrs. Hadden starred at her rever
end visitor as if she imagined she was
crazy.
“ He never could have the string
halt, for he had a cork leg! ” she re
turned.
“ A cork leg !—remarkable. But
really didn’t be have a dangerous
trick of suddenly stopping and kick
ing a wagon all to pieces ? ”
“Never; he was not a madman
sir.”
“ Probably not. But there was
some good points about him.”
“ I should think so ! ”
“ The way in which he carried his
ears for example.”
“Nobody else ever noticed that
particular merit,” said the widow,
with much asperity; “he was warm
hearted, generous aud frank.”
Good qualities,” answered he, un
consciously. “ How long did it take
him to go a mile ? ”
“ About fifteen minutes.”
“ Not much of a goer. Wasn’t his
hair apt to fly ? ”
“He didn’t have any hair. He
was bald headed.”
“ Quite a curiosity ? ”
“No sir; no more of a curiosity
than you are.”
The minister shifted uneasily, and
got red in the face. But he returned
to the attack.
“ Did you use the whip much on
him ? ” he questioned.
“ Never, 6ir.”^
THE FIOKIDA AGRICULTURIST.
“ Went right along without it, eh?”
Yes.
“ He must have been a good kind of
a brute ? ”
Mrs. Hadden turned white and
made no reply.
The minister did not know what
to say, but Anally blurted out: , ,
“ What I most adtaired about him
was the beautiful waggle of his tail.”
Then the widow just sat down and
cried. -i Jt
[' )** Thf idea of you coining here and
insulting me!” she sobbed. “If my
husband bad* lived you wouldn’t a
done it. Yourremarks in reference
to the poor dead man have been a
series of insults. I won’t stand it.”
He colored and looked dumfound-
Cd “ No, no.”
“ Ain’t you Mrs. Blinkers ? ” he
stammered.
“ And has not your old gray horse
died?”
“I never owned a d—horse, but
my husband h—died a week ago.”
Ten minutes later the minister
came out of that house with the red
dest face ever Been on mortal man.
“ And to think,” he groaned, as he
strode home, “ that I was talking
horse to that woman all the time, and
she was talking husband! ”
"" 1 ■ ■■
POSTAGE STAMPS.
How They are Made—An Interest
ing Study.
A visit to the establishment in
which the postage stamps for the
United States are made was very in
teresting. There are about eighty
persons at work making the stamps
we put on our letters; and it is doubt
ful if there is to be found anywhere
a busier set of workers or any who
make things fly at a livelier rate.
More than half of these eighty are
young women; the rest men. I say
young women, for there appears to
be no old or middle-aged ones among
them; and “ thereby hangs the tale.”
Men fail to come to time in the ne
cessary delicacy of touch and rapidity
of work. Not even a gross or fat
woman will do; they are too coarse
and clumsy for the marvelous dexter
ity and celerity, of touch and move
-jn<jsfcs F—fr ' "T ~ -
Nobody who buys at the post-ofiiee
a sheet of stamps ever imagines the
number and variety of processes it
has undergone in the stamp manu
factory. As one part of the work,
the sheet has beep counted no fewer
than twenty-six times. Beginning
with its status as simply white paper,
and so on through different bauds, to
the printers, the gummers, the perfor
ater6, and various others, all of whom
must account for the exact number of
sheets they handle. So that their
can be no mistake or loss.
After the paper is “ wet down,” as
the printers say every hundred
sheets being counted—it is taken up
to the printers. Each sheet is of the
right size for making 100 6tamps of
the ordinary size. The printing-room
is crowded with the hand presses
used for printing the 6tamps, no fewer
than eleven presses being in active
operation. Each press ha three per
sons in attendance —one to “tend
press,”Jonet{o ink the plate, and one—
the “printer.”
The printers are paid by the hun
dred. Precisely how much they earn
I could not find out, but it ought to
be good wages, for they “ work like
beavers.” The blank paper, all num
bered, is charged to the printers to
whom it is delivered.
Each of these eleven presses turns
out 1,200 sheets a day, or 7,200 a
week. Each sheet contains 200, and
as they are delivered to postmasters
only in sheets of 100, it follows that
each sheet must be cut right through
the middle. A girl with a long pair
of shears cuts them as accurately as a
ruled line, showing what a good eye
aud rapid hands can do. One girl,
whom I watched for a while, cuts
fifty sheets a minute —11,000 dailv.
It is a silent cut, cut, cut, from morn
ing till night, w-orking as if her life
depended upon it. The girls are all
busy at a variety of processes in the
preparations of the stamps, and their
wages average about eight dollars a
week.
Prom the printing-room aud the
drying-room (the latter an insuffer
ably hot place, where the sheets are
placed in Irames on drying racks )
they go to the gumming room, which
is also a drying room, but not hot,
the drying being aided by revolving
fans, fixed to a shaft, which 6enu
their influence through lofty piles of
the gummed sheets in frames. The
gum used is not gum arabic—that
would in drying cause the sheets to
curl and crack—but is 6imply a kind
of potato 6tarch. A girl swiltly ad
justs the edges of a heap of printed
sheets, so as to slide them all into
place, while she deftly dktibs them at
a single stroke with the mucilaginous
substance, which 6he applies with a
single motion of a wide brush. This
ia the substance you “ lick to make it
stick ” on the letter you drop in the
post-office.
•After the gumming and drying, the
stamps, in sheets, are flattened out
and made smooth by being subjected
to the persuasive power of a hydrau
lic press, the force being 450 tons.
After they come out they are taken
by girls who swiftly adjust them in
even edged heaps while counting.
To show how carefull they are,
note this fact: There was a count
last summer of 106,000,000 of stamps,
on a sudden and unexpected visit by
government experts from Washing
ton, who went through the pile in the
safe. It was a count of long accumu
lation, and it was conducted and tes
tified by the figures on the govern
ment books at Washington. Y"et out
of these 106,000,000, the only discrep
ancy found was 851 stamps valued at
$22; the aggregate blundering of four
years of this busy work, involving so
many millions of stamps and dollars.
Once the girl 6 counted steady for two
days to find a single missing sheet.
The perforating is done on small
machines with cylinders that have
belts of little projecting cylindrical
cogs or teeth, very small and close
together and having square ends like
bolts. Each of these minute projec
tions fit accurately into its corres
ponding 6lot in the metallic plate
beneath; and when the printed sheet
of postage stamps, all cut to a hun
dred each, is run through the machine,
it emerges with the edges of the
stamps all punctured in rows.
It is not easy for any body to
understand, without seeing the pro
cesses of the work itself, what fine
ness of touch, as well as swiftness and
accuracy of movement, are required
in the various handlings of these
sheets of postage stamps.
Seven hundred million stamps a
year. Tuts appears to be the present
rate of demand and supply of the
great American public. The New
York post-office orders twice a month,
and orders for about‘4,ooo,ooo each
time.
An Unfortunate Colonel.
A story is told of a dashing Colonel
quartered in Brussels, which speaks
more for the honesty and scrupulous
obedience to orders, than the bright
ness ot his servant. The Colonel
wa6 engaged out to dinner; just as
he was leaving home he was seized
with snch a violent toothache that he
wa6 obliged to send an excuse.
“Take this note to Madame W—,
and bring me my dinner.” The man
delivered the note into the lady’s
hand, and to her surprise, showed no
signs of going away. On being asked
what he was waiting for, he answered
that he was to take back the Colonel’s
dinner. The lady saw through his
blunder, ordered the dinner to be
sent, and added a half bottle of cham
pagne to be served as dessert. La
den with 6aucepan6, the worthy man
returned, and proceeded to wait on
his master, who found his dinner so
much better than he usually got from
the restaurant, that he lorgot his ail
ments, and enjoyed the dishes one
after another. At last came the
champagne, and that necessarily led
to an explanation. The poor Colonel
was in despair: after a moment’s re
flection, he gave his man ten francs,
and told him to buy a bo-uquet and
take it with his compliments to Mad
ame W—. By-and-by he came back,
and gravely placed ten francs on the
table.
“ What does that mean ? Where
does that come from ?”
“ From Madame W—,” answered
the man, with evident satisfaction,
“ She paid for the bouquet.”
On receiving it she had given five
francs for himself, but he, careful of
his master's interests, had replied; “It
is not five francs, it is ten francs,”
and brought them hack. The Col
onel has taken to hi 6 bed, and the
story has got about, much to the
amusement of his fellow-officers.
The lady is a widow. What next ?
“I 6hould just like to see somebo-
dy abduct me,” said Mrs. Smith at
the breakfast table the other morn
ing. “H’m! so should I, my dear—
so should I, said Mr. Smith with ex
ceeding eagerness.
Remarkable Steamboat Speed. ’
The highest speed ever attained by
any boat or ship was that obtained
by the steam launches recently built
for the English Admiralty by Messrs.
Yarrow fc Cos.
The boats are each 85. feet„ lopg,
11 feet beam and draw 3 feet. They
are constructed of steel, and have en
gines capable of indicating 420 horse
power.
Run with the tide the one made
22-59 knots, or 26 miles per hour;
the other 23-92 knots, or 27-56 miles
per hour. Against the tide one made
17.69 knots; the other 18-09. The
mean of the two was, respectively,
20.14 knots, or 23-2 miles, and 21
knots, or 24-2 miles.— Scientific
American.
RECIPES.
Lemon Pie. —lnside of one lemon,
chopped with one-half cupful or rais
ins, two tablespoonfuls of flour, one
cupful of sugar, one cupful of water.
Bake with two crusts.
Water Gruel. —Take one spoonful
of oatmeal or cornmeal; boil it in
three pints of water till it is fine and
smooth; then pour it into a bowl, and
add white wine, 6ugar, and nutmeg,
to your taste; serve it up hot, with
buttered toast upon a plate.
An English Stew of Cold Roast
Reef. —Cut the meat iu small and
rather thin slices, season them highly
with salt and pepper, and dip each
lightly in bread crumbs moistened iu
gravy or melted butter. Dress them
neatly on a dish, and lay over them a
thin layer of cut pickles, and moisten
the whole with a glassful of pickle
vinegar and the preserved gravy of
the roast beef; heat in a Dutch oven
and garnish with fried sippets or po
tato balls.
Julienne Soiq). —Take one carrot;
if long, cut it lengthwise in thin
strips, and the strips afterwards in
small pieces; one large onion, a
turnip, some cabbage, one leek. If
you cut your vegetables yourself, add
one potato. One vegetable of each
kind is enough. Put your vegetables
in a saucepan with one quarter pound
of butter—not on the range where it
is hottest, for fear of burning. Cover
them and stew r one and a half hours.
Add a little bouillon every little
while as the vegetables sink to the
bottom of the pan. When cooked
strain your bouillon over the Julienne
and serve it hot.
Salting Rising Bread. —Take two
or three pints of new milk in flour
until it is of sufficient thickness;
then set in a di6h containing water,
nearly as hot as you can bear your
finger in; keep as near the same
temperature as possible; in 6ix or
seven hours it will be up, unless the
flour is too fine ; if it is, add a little
graham or cornmeal. Have your
flour and some warm milk ready, put
the sponge and a9 much ol the milk
as is necessary to make the dough
sufficiently thin; then make loaves,
set in a warm place to rise, when suf
ficiently light, bake, and you will
have as good a light bread as I have
ever tasted. Water may be used
instead of milk, but the bread is not
so sweet. This recipe will make
good bread where hop yeast fails.
Pickled Oysters. —One hundred
large oysters, one pint white wine
vinegar, one dozen blades of mace,
two dozen whole cloves, two dozen
whole black peppers, one large red
pepper broken into bits. Put oysters,
liquor, and all, into a porcelain or
bell-metal kettle. Salt to taste.
Heat slowly until the oysters are very
hot, but not boiling. Take them out
with a perforated skimmer, and 6et
aside to cool. To the liquor which
remains iu the kettle, add the vinegar
and spices. Boil up fairly, and when
the oysters are almost cold, pour it
over them scalding hot. Put in ajar,
cover the jar in which they are, 3nd
put away in a cool place. Next day
put the pickled oysters into glass cans
with tight tops. Keep in the dark,
and*where they are not liable to be
come heated. I have kept oysters
thus prepared for three weeks in the
Winter. If you open a can, use the
contents up as soon as practicable.
The air, like the light, will turn them
dark.