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.