lie . . ill ifiiii .MitaSe. - a i i ' . v - . HENRY A. PARSONS, Jr., Editor and Publisher. Nlti DE S P.IKR ANDTJ M. , fwo Dollars per Annum. VOL. X. . . RIDGWAY, ELK COUNTY, -PA.; THUKSDAY, APRIL 22, 1880,". NO. 9. ti Over and Over Again. Over and over again, Ko mutter which way I turn, I always find in the book ot lile Some lesson I have to learn. I must take my turn at the mill; I must grind ont the golden grain j I must work at my task with a resolute will! Over and over again. "We cannot measure the head Of even the tiniest flower, Nor oueck the flow oi the golden sands That tnn through a single hour; But the morning dews mrst (all, And the sun and the summer rain Must do their part and perform it all Over and over again. Over and over again The brook through tho meadow flows; All over and over again The ponderous mill-wheel goes ; Once doing will not suffice, Though dopig be not in vain , And a blossing tailing us onoe or twice May come, it we try again. The path that has otce been trod Is never so rough for the ieet; And the lesson we onoe have learned Is never so hard to repeat. Though sorrowful tears must fall. And the heart to its depths be riven With stoim and tempest, we need them all To rendor us meet lor heaven. S AIDER and the "Saidee" "At your service, Sir Wilfred." From the gay worsteds she was sotting, she looked up with a mischievous expres sion befitting Iter words, yet underlying it a goodly measure of the rare tender ness that only a woman's face can wear. Hers seemed a strange face for a lover to frown upon ; but frown he did uglily, emphatically. " I am in no mood for jesting, Saidee," he continued, glumly, 'nor probably will you be when I tell you that what we have so long debated must be de cided between us now." The sunny smile died from her coun tenance ; the rare tenderness seemed but tho rarer for its gravity. " I am sorry, Wilfred," she answered softly ; " I so hoped you would see its impossibility and agree with me." lie could but read how she loved him, but he read something else now in look and tone something that momentarily banished the frown and paled his hand some face. With a passionate impulse he arose, am', crossing over to where she sat, took li r luird in his, and gazed down into her brown eyes long and steadily. &iid", do you care at all for me?" he asked, in. ..V . Do 1 care lor you, Wilfred?" she murmured, reproachfully, yet with the rapture of his touch reflected in her face " do I care for you? Oh, how can you ask me that, when you know that there is only you- only you in the whole wide world for me!" His hands fell; he turned away from her impatiently, with a bitter smile. " If I am all the world to you, Saidee, you certainly have a strange way of showing it. Your words are pretty, but they do not weigh at all with me. II you would have me believe you, come and promise to obey me as a woman should the man she loves." He extended his arms toward her as lie spoke; there was a look on his face she could not mistake. She knew it would be the last, last time, but still she took no step forward ; she simply stood terrified, appealingly gazing up at him. "Wilfred" He was frowning again, now deeper than before. " I know what you would say, Sai dee," he interrupted, "and it is only a waste of words. As I said before, your words have no weight with me; it is enough for me that you are ready to have me go away alone. And, as now I shall go to-morrow,' we my as well say good-bye." She had not taken her eyes from his face, and he still looked back at her steadily, relentlessly. At his last word she shivered, a death-like pallor spread over her countenance, and she answered, brokenly : " Wilfred" He did not interrupt her now; he bent forward with conscious eagerness for her words. His own were honest, but ha f;lt certain of their effect; he did not doubt that, in this decisive moment, he would gain her to his will. She would surety not let him go; she was about to yield to him, to say that there could be no good bye between them ; that, sooner than this, she would abjure all and follow him. And so he bent for ward for the answer, eagerly, with a certain hope. "Wilfred, if you eo will, you must go, but I can never say good-bye to jou." That was what s'le said, brokenly, tenderly, yet with the gentle firmness that had so startled him just now. " If you so will, you must go." They were little words, but he did not mistake them; tht fullest judicial sen ter.ee never weighed more heavily. A moment he stood regarding her, shaking with pain and disappointment; a mo ment passion swayed him, a fleeting, wavering impulse, but he quickly crushed them down. "I do so will. Saidee." he replied. with scornful emphasis; " and since you oojeci to goou-uye, lei us mage it good-aft'rnoon." This was their parting; so he left her, striding out and past the window bv which she sat. She did not turn: she sat, fixed and rigid, listening to his re treating footsteps, each of which was a knife stabbing deeD down in her heart As tbey died away she started up as if to follow uitr, her lips parted wjtn a passonate cry ; but as suddenly his cut ting words floated back to her it sank into a moan. 'And this is the end of it all," she murmured; "when he knows how I love him, when he knows I would die for him. Oh, Wilfred! my love, my dearest, how could you leave me so!" It was notstrange that that other time should rise vividly before her; that day, Six months ago. when, in this verv room. in the first bliss ul realization of their mutual passion, he had fallen on his Knees Deiore ner, and solemnly affirmed tuai, vuuia uu would, no power on earth should ever separate him from her. " If ever a woman was sure ot a man, Saidee, you are sure of me!" What musio the words were, thnnuh ne itberof them could foresee the future sore test that awaited t.hem. All seemed bright ahead: thev were to be married in six months' time, and she was to go away with him to Brazil, where he had secured a government appointment. There seemed no need of the passion ate protestations, the solemn oath of this fond lover: their truth was to be tried. In the fifth month of their en gagement. Aunt Ruth of whom Saidee was the especial pet and protege was thrown from her carriage and received injuries which, though it was not be lieved they would prove fatal, left her in a very critical and apprehensive state. True, the wedding-day was named and Wilfred must go: true, there were loving hearts beside Saidee to care for poor Aunt Ruth, but it seemed to her tender nature most a crime to leave her, at least, until danger was positively past. And when,- one morning, the old lady drew down the fair face to hers, and whispered, imploringly, " You will not leave me, pet, while there is a doubt of my getting well?" she promised un hesitatingly that she would not. Perhaps if she had known Wilfred Hare better ,she could not have promised so readily. Rut she knew him only as the tender lover, the man who had sworn that, come what would, do power on earth should ever separate him from her. It could be easily settled, she thought; he, as she, would feel very sad and disappointed, but he, as she, must see the impossibility of her going now. They could be married, and, as soon as Aunt Ruth was decided out of danger, she would go to him. All this in full trust and faith she con- pared for the reception h.-r i " j' tne imperious workings ot this mans will, What rieht had she. without con sulting him even, to make a promise to nny one that conflicted with her, own to him? His love gave him the right to command her; if she loved him she would obev. She must marrv him and and go away with him, else their present relations must cease. In vain sl'e pleaded her promise, her tender affection for Ruth; he would yield nothing to an old woman's whim. So he remained imperious, persistent; she troubled, yet hopeful, thinking that iitiauy he must yield, neither believing that separation was possible when the testing time should come. baidee strove to smile; she took up her worsteds and continued sortiDg them, as if thus to begin disciplining herself for the burdens of her new life. It could not be otherwise, she thought she could not break her promise to Aunt uutn. sue could not leave her now. And as Wilfred willed she must submit. Amid her pain arose a sudden, keen feeling of disaDDointment: it vanished almost immediately in a realization that was born irom it. " I am so elad." she said, softlv. "that I am not one of those who think a per- tect object is necessary for loving; I do not think a perfect object is a test of love. I am not blind; Wilfred is very tyran nical, Fcltish. very, very unkind, but. as never till to-day have I fully realized it. so never has he been so dear to me." This realization awoke a tender re solve. I can never let him go away so ; I must prove to him how dear he is and must ever be to me." from this came the tender note that found its way next morning to Wilfred Hare : I cannot let you go away, dear. without one little word. I know you are angry with me. and I am verv. very unhappy, for never, since our engage ment, nave I loved you as to-day. My little word is that I must always, always love you, and that I will never marry any man but Wilfred Hare. Perhaps some day you will understand and for give me, and then you will be glad to think of this." Very sadly she droDDed the tender little note in the mail-box. very drearily she went back the familiar road to her home. It seemed but yesterday that she had walked here with Wilfred, so happy and confident. How sad and dark the road seemed now ! So absorbed was Saidee, that she did not see the man walking ahead, who suddenly turned and paused, as if awaiting her. She started as she drew closer and perceived mm, her lirst impulse was to nee; she shrank from the sad face that she felt now was so like hers. But it was too late. He had retraced his steps to meet her, and was now walking at her tide. " Saidee," he said, softly, " there are not many days now. Do not send me away from you " tie made no effort to cloak his tender ness, either in word or look. He had loved her from the hanDvtime when, as children, they h.d walked this road together ; she knew it, and it had once been the great sorrow of her life that she could not return this love. Despite the sting of his words, there awoke in her heart a pity for him, such as she had never known before ; a wild, regretful longing that the could not Lave loved him; a sudden, strange realization that she had wasted her affection, that this man's stanch, loyal heart w is worth an hundred such as Wilfred Hare's. This last she battled quickly down, not so the pity or the longing Strangely moved, scarcely knowing what she did, she place a her hand on his arm, and answered, gently : "There will be many, many days tor us to walk together. Mark!" He could but have a presentiment of her meaning, so sadly earnest was her tone. "What do you say. Saidee?" he asked, with pity lor her, and a joy he could not repress mingling oddly in his Iook and tone. T hof T am visvf nnlnn tit Via mnwlal Mark that is, not yet awhile. Wilfred is angry with me; but I must not tell you I do not know why I so forget my self. It is only that I am to stay with Auntuutn lor the present mat is all, Mark. She truly raid she did not know why; she felt a very traitress thus openly to blame w mred iiare. sue did not real ize, poor Saidee! how pleasant Mark Vale's devotion had suddenly become to her how plain she was making this, But he could not sej. He walked on beside her silently, little dreaming he was aught to her to-day beyond what he had been before. Never had" life seemed so dreary to Mark Vale not even that black morning when he learned she was to marry Wilfred Hare, Then his unselfish soul found solace in I he thought that she was happy; now ha atsmri in nivurnm rf hfll' miHtirV lift. who, had he the power, would not have permitted the winds to blow roughly on her and could not save her its least tang. . . .J ' Helm I He understood Wilfred Hare better than she; it would have been easier, Ferhaps, to resign her to any other man. t was not strange, that in this hour, realizing his own loyalty and tender ness, he should rail at justice and the veriest of myths. The days passed slowly, drearily, to Saidee ; with each, her love for Wilfred Hare growing deeper, her grief sharper more unendurable. " Come what will, no power on earth shall separate me from you !" Morn, noon and night these words came back to her, and with them a hope to feed upon. Surely all would be right, she thought. He cou d not give her up ; he was only angry with her; he would come to understand and forgive her, and then all would be well again. These were uneventful days, till, one morning, the news was brought to Saidee that Aunt Ruth could not live; that, contrary to expectation, the peculiar troubles that had resulted from her in juries were developing fatally. Her gentle heart smote her, for often, often, this later time, she had regretted her Eromise; in her anguish, wished she ad broken it. A while remorse ban ished all else from her thoughts; but love is a mighty king, and poor Aunt Ruth had not been long under the sod ere it regained the mastery. He would surely write, now that Aunt Ruth was dead ; he wo aid surely under stand. So she was musing one twilight, when there came a knock at the door, and a let'er was handed into her. At the sight of the familiar writing she could not re press a rapturous cry, despite the pres ence of the new servant, who knew nothing of Wilfred Hare ; her trembling g could scarcely break the seal. ni nAA;iUni, me ntue note aVn VA ...-I .in. l-,;m on i: uau milieu uiui, auu "i.tea,-n,a f a ill IO UUt llKUli JL OllUUltl you your pledge." w Hired Hare had proven nimseit. She read it. she broke into a fit of hysterical laughter, and then, not knowing what she did, she dropped it, and went down and out over the lawn, far into the maple-grove, looking ahead dreamily, she saw Mark Vale coming toward her. He had heard of this; he was coming vaguely, with only the thought that he must comfort her. bue waited for him : she stretched out the hand which fcliil held the card. with a dreary smile. "Mark," she said, "did you know Wilfred was married? Did you know " - She could say no more, the full reality had broke. He had endured much, he could not endure the look now on her fac . With sudden, uncontrollable impulse, he lirew his arms around her and drew her to his breasv. Oh. Saidee! forgive me. forgive me. but I cannot see you so!" . So cried Mark Vane quite terrified at his act, striving vainly to loose his arms. To his surprise she did not resist him. He even fancied she clung to him. JJo not send me away!" a voice floated up to him. " I have only got you to love me, and I know you love me very much." Was this a delusion, or was she mock ing him in her despair? "Saidee." he murmured, bewilder- edly, "do yr-u mean that that you could marry meP" lie was all she had. Hers was a na tures to crave a prop ; it seemed to her that moment, that never a love was so sweet to woman as Mark Vane's was to her. I loved Wilfred," she answered. hrokenly. "But I have lost love, and 1 must have love or my heart will break. Dear Mark, if you can marry me so, 1 will be a good wife to you." " saidee i" With the one word wherein lav his soul, lie drew her gently, almost rever entially, closer to his madly-beating heart. And so he married her, and he is content. For she never repulses him. his love seems always sweet to her. and sometim' s, of her own will, she comes and, twining her arms about his neck. kisses him tenderly, Making a King Sing. An Englishman arrived at Paris some days before the revolution of July, 1830. He very eagerly sought to inspect the interior court of the Palais Royal, where the prince, Louis Philippe of Orleans, was receiving deputation? that came to him from all parts ot the country, vil lagers with the mayor and drummer at their head, brave fellows well furnished with addresses and olten excited by the fatigues of the road and the heat of the day. The Englishman, on arriving, asked if Louis Philippe had made his appear ance. "Certainly," they answered him, "he is just retired." "Ah! Iam very sorry for that," he said. "I am come to Paris to see him." " Never mind," said one near him ; "I will show him to you." So he shouted out: "Vive Louis Philippe I Vive la Cbarte!" and the multitude cried out tha same. A window opened over a balcony, the prince appeared, humbly saluted the crowd, and retired. "Ah! I am very glad indeed," said the Englishman ; " but I have heard some say that one might see him with the tricolored flag, and surrounded by his family." " That is very easy," said the other ; " give me some sous, and he will come forth." " Indeed ! Here are some, with great pleasure," said the Englishman, handing a franc to his neighbor. Immediately a voice raised the coup let, which a thousand voices immedi ately repeated : Soldier, with the tricolor flag, Who irom Orleans bearest it," etc. , And the couplet did not cease to be heard before the prince, surrounded by his family and holding the three-col ored flag, came forth to salute the TOWfl. silence for a short time. ant neighbor, tum or the Englishman, ul matter, you will irB&: I wftl do so willingrt Englishman, assured by tlieC1""8 01 the former engagements. ,,o Thnn Jho man with hia fon fftPcs' exerted himself and shuuted with ot" around him so eagerly and lustily, 'V.voleroiP Vive la Charte! la Mar seillaise!" that at the end of twenty minutes Louis Philippe presented him self again before a large crowd exulting with impatience and joy. The Marseillaise was lustily raised by the crowd. The new king was about to retire from the balcony, but stopped in the midst of the applause, and sang with the people, marking time with his feet. The story relates that the king-exhibitor, addressing the Englishman, said to him: "fowil you give me one hundred francs he shall dance." But the other. thinking that tho show had gone far enough.'went away. ' Hone may think this anecdote come3 10 in a susDiciotu source, it is taken word for word from the contemporary history of C. A. Daubin, a work in use among students of philosophy. It ap peared to the learnel professor to be so characteristic that he thought it worth relating, although at first sight it ap peared to him unworthy of the gravity of history. Lew ttre Hour. Then the comp ih . 0i,oii fPe him sing? As it is rather a diincu have to give me ten trtf. How to Jndg a a Horse. The following simple rules will be found useful to all parties about to buy a horne: 1. Never take the seller's word: if dis'.onest ne win do certain to cueat you; if disposed to be fair, he may have been the dune 01 another, and will de ceive you through representations which cannot be relied upon. Never trust to a horse's mouth as a sure index of his age. o. in ever duy a uortu wuue in motion: watch him while he stands at rest, and you will discover his weak points. If sound he will stand firmly and squarely on his limbs without moving any of them, the teec planted nat upon tne ground, with legs plumb and naturally poised. It one foot is thrown forward with the toe pointing to the ground and the heel raised, or if the foot is lifted from the ground and the weight taken from it, disease of the navicular bone may be suspected, or at least tenderness. which is a precursor or disease it the foot is thrown out, the toe raised, and the heel brought down, the horse has suffered horn lamlnitis, founder, or the back sinews have been sprained, and he is of little future value. W hen the feet are all drawn together beneath the horse, if there has been no disease there is a misplacement of the limbs at least and a weak disposition 01 the muscles. If Ihe horse stands with his feet spread apart or straddles with the hind legs. there is weakness of the loins and the kidneys are disordered. When the knees are bent and the legs totter and tremble the beast has been ruined by heavy pulling, and will never be right again whatever rest and treatment he may have. Contracted or Ill-formed bools speak for themselves. 4 Never buy a horse with a bluish or milky cast in his eyes. Thev indicate a constitutional tendency to ophthalmia. moon blindness, etc. 5. Never have anything to do with horse who keeps his ears thrown back ward. This is an invariable indication of bad temper. 6. If the horse's hind legs are scarred the tact denotes that he is a kicker. 7. If the knees are blemished the horse is apt to stumble. 8. When the skin is rough and harsh and does not move easily and smoothly 1 . t. V. 1 1 1 . 1 . iu me wuuu, mo uoibo 1a a ueavy eater ana uis digestion is bad. 9. Avoid a horse whose respiratory organs are at aa impaired, it the ear is placed at the side of the heart, and a whizzing sound is heard, it is an indi cation of trouble. Let him go. Women Voting. Miss Louise M. Alcott, in a letter to the Woman's Journal about the Con cord, Mass., election, at which womn voted for the first time for school com mittee, thus describes the scene and rer ports her impressions! The moderator (who is also the registrar, and has most kindly and faithfully done his duty to the women, in spite of his own dififer-J . x 1 1 a i 1. .T ence 01 opinion j un unnuuuueu ium the ladies would prepare their votes and deposit them before the men did. No one objected, we were ready, and filed out in good order, dropping our votes and passing back to our seats as quickly and quietly as possi ble, while the assembled gentle man watched us in solemn silence. No bolt fell on our audacious heads, no earthquake shook the town, but a pleasing surprise created a general out break of laughter and applause, for scarcely were we seated when Judge Hoar rose and proposed that the polls be closed. The motion was carried be fore the laugh subsided, and the polls were closed without a man's voting a perfectly fair proceeding, we thought, since we were allowed no voice on any other question. The business of the meeting went on, and the women re mained to hear the discussion of ways and means, and see the officers elected with neatness and dispatch by the few who appeared to run the town pretty much as they pleased. At five o'clock the housewives retired to gel ten for the exhausted gentlemen, some of whom certainly looked as it they would need refreshments of some sort after their labors. I was curious to observe, as the women went out, how the faces which had regarded them with disap proval, derision, or doubt when they went in, now smiled affably, while several men hoped the ladies would crime again, asked how they liked it and assured them that there had not been so orderly a meeting for years. One of the pleasant sights to my eyes was a flock of schoolboys watching with great interest their mothers. aunts and sisters, who were showing them how to vote when their own eman tipation day came. Another was the spectacle of women sitting beside their husbands, who greatly enjoyed the affair, though many of them differed in opinion and had their doubts about the sufii-ase Question. Among the new .voters were the descendants of Major Concord light renown, two i Tr!T?.i'i .,.ii12uincy, and others whose grandfathers TIMELY TOPICS. A Chicago engineer proposes to get rid of the sewerage and the river there oy damming up the river, pumping it out and using the bottom for the railroads which come into the city. A large sewer should be laid under the bed of the river, extending out into the lake, a current being kept up by pumps at the mouth of the river. Then it Is proposed to fill in a large space of the lake in front and build a sea wall further out which would give all the water front needed. The project is a large one and appeals to the imagination. New England capital is to build a rail road further "Down East" than Boston is. The road starts from Cairo, in Egypt, crossing the Suez canal at Port Said, its northern terminus, and run ning north through Palestine, a little back from the Mediterranean coast, until Megiddo is reached, beyond the Carmel range. Crossing the famous plain of Esdraelon, the line debouches to the western shore of Lake Gennesaret, north of which the Jordan is crossed and the mountains separating the Jor dan valley from Damascus, after which it continues on across the Euphrates to Mosul, on the Tigris, where it is to ter minate on a Dronosed railroad irom uia- bekir and the Black sea. Several branches are contemplated, including one easterly from Kamleh to Jerusalem, where a depot has been located near the Damascus gates and another from the same point westerly to Joppa. Judge Daly, of New York, in his re cent annual address before the American Geoctranhical society, said that fresh discoveries of thecureiform inscriptions at Nineveh have revealed the fact that the ancient Assyrians were acquainted with the existence of spots on the sun, which they could only have known by the aid of telescopes. These, it is sup posed, they possessed . Mr. Layard found a crystalline lens in the runs of .Nineveh The Assyrian cyclopedia, imprinted on bricks, was an exhaustive work. Tho inscriptions on these bricks, on being deciphered, disclosed that houses and lai.ds were sold, leased and mortgaged. that money was loaned at interest, and that the market gardeners, to use on American phrase. " worked on shares :" that the farmer, when plowing with his oxen, beguiled his labor with short and homely songs, two of which have been lound thus connecting this very re U. with the great-grand .1 . -.11 . luum fathers had been among thefiWiQ,1":'.8 mote civilization of 2000 B of the town. A goodly array ot ajytLJusuages of to-day, lied and earnest women, though some ot the "hrst families" 01 the historic towns were conspicuous by their absence. Caring for Snakes. A reporter of tho Philadelphia Press has been learning on what the snake- man at the Zoological gardens, in thai city, leeds his pets. This is what he learned on entering the professor s pri vate office: Two cages stood on the side of the room, one on top of the other, immediate'y facing the door. One cnge held white and spotted rabbits, and the other cage contained guinei pigs. There were twenty or thirty altogether, lhis was the food the snake-keeper was fat tening for his cements the boa-con strictors, and other laree snakes of the expanding jaws, which can swallow down the largest-sized rabbits without the sliehtejt dimcutty. The rabbits were seen sporting about the cage, all unconscious of the fate in store for them, a fate all the hafder from the fact that the luxurious serpents must have them to swallow alive or not at all, as they will not eat dead food. The futnea pigs are sacrinceo the same way. 'his form ot serpent diet the snake keener doe3 not go down into New Jersey for. The rabbits and guinea pigs are kept in the gardens, where they breed very fast, and more than keep ud the suddIv for the large serpents The garter-snakes and water-snakes, and worms and trogs, which he brings in his satchel and tin can, are fed to the rattle snakes and the king-snakes, and serpents of that sort. The way the snake-keeper gathers up his food for these reptiles is amply in keeping with his giant charac teristics, and wej calculated to inspire terror to the weak and timorous, lie ge's out in a field or woods down about Woodbury. N. J.. where garter-snakes abound, and as fast as he sees them he gathers them up with his hands and throws them into his tin can or satchel. The water-snakes he gets along the brooks and swamps. "Every man to his calling," says the adage. The Bnake- keecer. on the authority of those who know something of his habits and pecu liarities, has his heart in his work, and by all accounts would not exchange with anybody. A Bad Day for Alligators. me urianuo ( la. j Reporter says : Mondty proved a field day with thi alli gators. They came out in large num bers to bask in the warm sunlight after the rain. Fatal recreation! everybody on board went to shooting them. Even the scullion would leave his disupan to take a shot. And it seemed hard to miss them. The champion slayer was an old hunter from the Granite State. When ever he laised his rifle death was in the air, and its sharp report was the crack 01 doom lor some cousin ot the croco dile. The 'gator-slayer expended his last cartridge in the evening; but not until he had scored his sixty-hfth alliga tor. Their vitality is remarkable. I chopped off the head of one a few min ut '8 after he had been shot. Several minutes after the head was entirely sev ered from the body, I thrust on oar at it. The jaws opened and snapped to again, like huge steel-trap, driving the teeth three-fourths of an inch into the liatd oak and splitting the oar handle. Even twmty rainutes later that 'cator- head would not have been a sale toy for children. Life Among the Central Park Animals. Mr. William A. Conklin, director of the Central Park menagerie, in his an nual report gives much interesting in formation. There were 1,200 animals in the park during the year. Of these' 402 were birds, 242 mammals and tvren-ty-four reptiles. The births were as follows : Eight lions (two litters of four each), one puma, five prairie wolves (at one birth;, one JNubian goat, oce zebu, one Cape buffalo, one Wapiti deer, one Virginia deer, one Mexican deer, one Toulouse goose, five wild geese, four white swans, four black swans, eight pe.i fowls, five white turkeys, twenty Guinea fowls. Tho mortuary record is ns follows: One leopard, one prairie wolf, one sea- hon, one tapir, one vicuna, one cnmei. one yak, one bamboo deer, one tiger bittern and one European crane. The animals consume l'JJ.BdO pounds of hay, 8,920 pounds of straw, 541 bush els ol oats. 4bti butiheis 01 corn, im bags of bran, thirteen bushels ot seed, 77,380 pounds of meat, Bo, sa pounds ol bread, 7,493 pounds of fish, 3,110 quarts of milk and ten barre's oi crackers. A large proportion oi the above provision was fur nislied by theownersof theanima:s. The maintenance of the animals cost the city nearly $11,000. Repairs, etc., made the tot al expenditure s h, uya.ua. The most valuable animals on exhibi tion, according to the report, were two black leopards, four polar bears, one two-horned rhinoceros, a sea-lion and cub. The mother sea-lion was the one that died. The cub was disconsolate, and refused food, but after torn -cod and smelts had been forced down its throat for a time it took to a regular diet and survived. Among the fish in the Central Park lakes are catfish, white perch, yellow perch, goldfish, suutish, black bass, suckers and eels. Thirty erav sauirrels and fifty quail set free in the park have increased and multiplied wonderfully, and their pres ence has drawn great numbers of hawks, of which many have been shot. The extermination ot cats and dogs does not come in Director Conklin's pro vince. Superintendent Dawson, who has charge of this work, reports the killing of nearly 800 cats and 130 dogs in the past year, besides many moles and a few muskrats. -Veto York Sun. Cold Hands. Cold hands, cold heart, and if the heart be cold, Cold heart, cold love, the ending is soon told. Cold love will change and shortly pass away. Cold hands, cold heart, the lile and all things chill, Cold heart, oold love, the love an icicle, What hope can be that snob, love will stay T Cold hands, warm heart they say, we hope the best Warm heart, warm love, give those and keep the rest, Warm heart, warm love will never pass away. Cold hands, cold heart, darling if thine be such, Cold heart, cold love, will slsy love with a tonob, And love, onoe slain, no second liie regains. Cold hands, cold heart, and is it se with thee? Cold heart, opld love, then, darling, pity me And let me go while yet some life remains. Iruh Timet. The latest senan?.A8 ,th?ot,2f tlin nnnielitPM. Tt. had ifAi2n. lu f'" and its founder was T. W. RiSffiSS?0? a student of medicine and a vegetal The organization has a form of initia tion, degrees, badges, scarfs, and all the symbols of a secret society. The per son who desires to become a member takes a solemn vow to abstain entirely from fish, flesh, and fowl, from spiritu ous and malt liquors, from snuff and to bacco. When this promise has been taken and a solemn pledge of secrecy given, the candidate is ushered iut ) the "garden," which is the Danielite name for lodge. The head of each garden is called the chief gardener. The sect has no theological system. A member may believe what he chooses so long as lie affirms the existence of a Supreme Be ing and maintains a vegetable diet. The initiation fee is two shillings. It is said that the order has many adherents, and is spreading in England. A man who passed through many stirring nnd dangerous scenes was re cently killed in a most prosaic manner on the Philadelphia and Baltimore rail road. This was Professor Louis Bine), a French teacher of languages and a lecturer on French literature. lie was about fifty-eight years ot age and was a native of Normandy, where his brothers yet reside. D uring the Crimean war lie was the correspondent of the Journal des Deba's, of Paris. He was selected as one of the commission which accom panied theill-fat!d Emperor Maximilian to Mexico, and acted as his direct legal adviser upon the provision of the code Napoleon; in which he was deeply versed. After the execution of Maxi milian, Miramon and Mejia, Professor Binel came to the United States. He siicrificed a large estate by his devotion to the imperial cause, and he was almost fenniless when he reached this country, n Philadelphia he soon found acquaint ances who assisted him in forming classes, and he became the owner 01 a valuable property in German town. ITEMS OF INTEREST. A dead language Cold tongue. A report that can't be contradicted The report of a gun. Making light of troubles Burning up your unpaid bills. The Marathan Independent says that the letters to beware of are x s. Dumb-belle exercises Talking with a deaf and dumb girl. Salem Sunbeam. Hens are not exactly lazy, and yet they are always laying 'round. Derrick. A little learning is a dangerous thing. This applies especially to violin play ing. Eleven million pounds of tea was im ported into this country from China in 1879. There are now six telegraph cables connecting the United States with Europe. It doesn't follow because things com? under our notice that they are beneath our notice. New York News. The farmer feeds the bleating u u The tsuilor tails the c e Tho gardener plants p p he does, The printer takes his e e. Eil L. Jl'lamt. Taken altogether the beauties of art and nature do not begin to interest the inquisitive female so much as the view she gets through a keyhole. Fu 'ton Times. The total value of church property in the United States is placed at $500,000,- n.m O I 1 J i t- .i A. J uuu. oiiuuiu it cunuuue lu iultuuso id fy nme proportion as in the past, it r:i lunii no vniuc 111 taw vvui reach tbef 3.M0.. r one' .1 .... . 11 -ie national debt. tiiii u more luan iti , New steel works are'fri4iafrected n Cliicairo at a cost, includin!61? five acre of land, of S2 OOO.COO-ii10' are to be completed within a yeara? will consist of four blast furnaces, Bes semer converting works, and steel rail mills. They will employ 8,000 men, consume 250,000 tons of ore yearly, nnd turn out 90,000 tons of rails. At the Dark Hollow stone quarry, near lied lord, U., one ot the largest stones ever blasted in Amend was lifted " a short time ag-. The stone is forty or fifty feet square and about thirty feet thick and it required 185 slip wedges to make a successful blast. When cut up into pieces it will make nearly 300 car loads of building stone. immense blocks 01 stone are ircquentiy tuUrn out of the quarries here which would make tne stones in Solomon's teraplo mere pebbles in comparison. its weig ht was istimatcd to be 0,0 0,010 pounds. Life in the Polar Regions. It is impossible to form an idea of a tempest in the polar sea. The icebergs are like floating rocks whirled along a rapid current. The crystal mountains dash against each other, backward ana forward, bursting with a roar like thun der, and returning to the charge until ung their equilibrium they tumble over in a cloud ot spray, upheaving the ice-fields, which fall afterward like the crack of a whip-lash on the boiling sea. The sea gulls fly away screaming, and often a black, shining whale comes for ar. instant puffing to the surfaee. When tne midnight sun grazes the horizon, the floating mountains and the rocks seem immersed in a wave of purple light. The cold is by no means so insupportable as is supposed. We passed from a heated cabin at thirty degrees above zero to forty-seven below zero in the open air without inconvenience, a much higher degree of cold becomes, however, in sufferable if there is wind. At fifteen degrees below zero a steam, as if from a boiling kettle, rises from the water. At once frozen by the wind, it tails in a fine powder. This phenomenon is called ice-smoke, At forty degrees the snow and human bodies also smoke, which smoke changes at once into mil lions of tiny particles, like needles of ice. which fill the air, and make a .ight, con tinuous noise, like the rustle of a stiff silk. At this temperature the trunks of trees burst with a loud report, the rocks breakup, and the earth opens and vomits smoking water. Knives break in cutting butter. Cigars go out by con tact with the ice on the board. To talk is fatiguing. At hi lit the eyelids are covered with a crust of ice, which must be carefully removed before one can open them. Professor Nordenstjoid. " I Am Gulminei!" The New York correspondent of the Louisville Courier-Journal writes. Everybody had heard of Stradivarius, oi C. emona, who ach'eved his celebrity by b fating every other man in the fiddle business In tact he was equally cele brated with the gentleman who lived in Lexington and made such wonderful rifles. A third celebrity has sprung up in New York, named Guiminei, who boasts that he can make a better fiddle than Stradivarius or th6 other vanus. who also lives in fame by the same means. When asked why he doesn't advertise his business, he poses, heroic ally strikes his left breast, and exclaims 1 1 am Uuiminel. Let them come to me!" Whenever an old church with wooden casements a thousand years old is pulled down, and they are always do intr such things here, the modern Stradi varius is sure to be on hand sounding and poking lor bass wood and other colli us ot the wood nymphs to get hold of something that is seasoned. He sent to the I'aris exposition oneoi his violins. expecting to get a first-class medal, of course. He was like Ophelia, " the more deceived." and more his hopes soared high. The chairman of the com mittee on tuneful things sent back by mail a knowing wink suggested in tho phrase: "iou can t tool us; what you sent us as your own is a genuine stradi varius." Ho haa unintentionally mis led the most knowing of experts. When the Italian received this deuisionwhich I will not positively aver was couched in the language I have used, he instantly proceeded to the nearest curbstone, gave three flaps of encouragement with his elbows, and crowed aloud: "I am Guiminei 1" I understand that he im mediately raised the price of fiddles to $ 3,000. In some kinds of art it is better to be an imitator than an original- What It Costs Us forJSmoke. The New York correspondent of the Troy Times says : The amount spent in smoking by some ot our citizens is sur prhiag. New York pays more lor cigars than tor bread, and tins is easily Been when individual cigar bills run up to $300 per annum. I know one man who was unable to save anything on an in come of $12,030 a year, and who gave among the reasons that it cost him $10 per week for cigars. It all his expenses were at such a rate there could be little chance at accumulation. There are many smoker who average 100 eiga-s a week. These are the men who build up such fortunes a' the Gilseys and others have made. Peter Gilsey landed in this city a poor emi rant. He was a piano maker, but opened a cigar shop in the Bowery, which his wife tended while he wrought at his trade. From this humble beginning Gilsey became one of the most extensive dealers in the city. He had at one timo nearly a dozen cigar shops, and he left an estate worth $2,000,000. The Gilsey house is one of his creations, and the splendid establishment known as the Gilsey building, corner of Broadway and Cort- landt street, it. mother, ihe nrsi Broadway cigar store Ilia", reached dis tinction was John Andersons, lho unfortunate Mary Uogers, better known as "the pretty cigar girl," was in his service, and her tragio end will always be one of the mysteries of New York crime. A farmer recently jumped into a well became his wife ran him into debt. He found, however, that he couldn't keep his head above water any better after he got there. Boston Tramcript.. Victims of Opium. The New York correspondent of tho Detroit Free i'ress writes : The death of a woman connected with the old Van Buren family from the effect of a con stant use of opium, has been written about a go:d deal, and talked about a good deal more. This unfortunate wo man's appetite for the terriole drug was almost insatiable, iier case was an especially bad one, but there are hun dreds of similar cases in New York. Doctors and druggists tell astonishing stories about the use of opium among people of good social position, and, ex cept in this particular, good ways of liv ing. There seems to be no difficulty about these people getting all the opium they want. There are many drug stores in which it is sold as openly as patent medicine, and small Quantities could be procured at any time. The people who buy it are not of the common class, but generally educated and refined, and many are brain-workers, who crave it that their overburdened nerves may be composed in some way. Tne woman who died tho other day, from over-indulgence iu it, was the daughter of a physician once ranking at the top of his profession in New York. She married a good-for-nothing husband, against her parents' will, and no doubt the life lie led her had much to do with her coa traction of the opium habit.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers