SHE WHO IS MINE. 3he who is mine, whose sou! is all my own As mine is hers, long loved and early known, With what warm hands, with what a lov ing face, She gives me we/oome to this quiet place. This cottage hearth, where we two dwel alone. We have the poor for neighbors; we are one, Content with simple duties simply done; .And she, ut least, of no ambitious race, She who is mine. At, yes; Life's vain results have come and gone; And the dry heart, like a cold kernel stone Within its withered pulp and shrunken case, Might well have lost such fulness and such grace As once it had, but for this love, full grown And resolute and pure, that shehuth shown, She who is mine, —[The Academy. POPPIE'S DILEMMA j A biting wind has everything its own way out of doors to-day. It whirls away in triumph tho few brown leaves that have clung obstinately until now to the shivering branches of tho big copper beech opposito to the library window; it moans dismally in chimneys, whistles shrilly through looso fitting window frames, and, in short, makes itself as disagreeable as possible. But I, sitting in my favorite chair in tho snug library, and with a new and exciting "yellow back" in my hand, bid defiance to the weather, congratulate myself that I have the afternoon free to enjoy myself in and need not go outside. I have reckoned without my host, how ever. for before I have read more than two chanters of my book, I hear a door opened behind me and u voice say in quiringly;— "Susan!" It is Poppie, and I know she will want to talk. 1 bend lower down over tho fire, with my elbows on my knees, and pre tend not to hear; perhaps sho will go away again. Vain hope! She closes the door and conies toward me. "Susan!" she says again. "Well?" I reply unwillingly and with out turning or raising my eyes. "I want to talk to you," says Poppie, ooaxingly. "I knew you did," is my inwnrd re mark. 44 We11," I repeat aloud, 44 what is is it about?" And still I keep my eyes fixed on the page, dovoutly praying that Poppio will ropont of disturbing mo when she sees how engrossed I am, and will leave mo in peace. But she does 110 such thing; on tho contrary she kneels down upon the hearth rug besido 1110 und lays hor two hands upon my book. "Don't road, Susan," she says, in her pretty imperative way? "I really have something to say to you." With a faint sigh I lay down the book and turn to sister. Ido not know why or how it is, but I always find my self oboving Poppie with most exemplary meekness. "What have you to say?" I asked ro lignedly. "It is about something that hnppened while I wus at tho Nugents," begins Pop pio. 4 'Oh, I'm sure you must have told mo everything about that visit!" 1 intorrupt impatiently. "Did I ever say anything of a Mr. Harris?" "No, I think not—l don't remember," I reply doubtfully. "Well, then, you must know he was staying there, too, nearly all tho time that I was," says Poppio, sitting on the floor besido mo, her hands clasped round hor knees and hor face turned towards the fire. "He is a youngish-oldish man —you know what I mean—llo particular age—very tall and big, with a lurgc round face, liko a red moon inoro than anything else. Ho is a retired merchunt or munufacturor, and has heaps of money, which ho has made in business. He has a lovely placo somewhero in the lako country and a splendid house in Park lane; and Mrs. Nugent told us ho must have at least twenty thousand a year." Sho pauses, and, taking up the poker, begins most unnecessarily to stir the fire. 4 4 Well, is that ull?" I usk aftor a short silence. "Not quite all," replies Poppie calmly, with her back still toward me and em phasizing her words with littlo tups of the poker upon a sputtering, fizzing log. "lie asked mo to marry him." She speaks with such utter unconcorn that for a moment I do not believe her. "You are joking," I cry vrathfully, taking up my "yellow back" again; "and I call it a very poor joke indeed, if you care for my opinion on the subject." "It is not a joke, Susan; really and truly it is not!" declares Poppio, drop ping the poker with a clatter into the fender and turning round to me, "I urn quite in earnest, I assuro you!" For a few seconds I stare at her in silent amazement. Then she begins to laugh. "Is it then so surprising?" she asks, putting her lovely fuco close to mine and glancing saucily up at me. "Susan, do, for pity sake, shut your eyes and mouth! You look so utterly absurd!" "•Well," 1 ejaculated, "I must oonfoss I am surprised; 1 have not quite taken it in vot. Hut why did you not toll mo of it before?" I add reproachfully. 44 You came homo on Monday last, and this is Thursday—l call it a shame!" 44 Hut, now that 1 havo told you, what do you say?" 44 1 think it is by fur tho moßt delight ful piece of news 1 ever heard!" 1 an swered excitedly. "To think that you will have twenty thousand a year and a houso in Park lane and—" "Stop, stop!" cries Poppie. "YOB are running on much too fast, Susan, for I—l did not accept him." "Didn't accept him?" I echo blankly. "My poor susan," says Poppio, laugh ing again us she puts her soft little hand upon mine, * 4 ure you terribly disap pointed?" "I am," I replied solemnly and mourn fully—"dreadfully disappointed! It would bo, oh, so nice if you were mar ried to such a delightfully rich man us this Mr. Hurris seems to be! Hut, of course, there is no uso in my saying anything now, since you have refused him," and I end with a regretful sigh. •Poppio gets up from the floor and, drawing a chair close to mine, sits down. "Susan," she says, "I want to ask your advice." I do my best to suppress my astonish ment at this remark, for never before was my sistor Poppie known to seek advice— at any rate, or me —and respond inquir ingly— -44 Yes, dear?" "1 did not exactly refuse Mr. Harris— wait a moment until I have done, please!"—as 1 prepare to give vent to a volley of delighted exclamations—"l said 4 N#' ever and ever again when ha asked me; hut—l don't know why it was—ho would not take 'So' for nil answer—per haps"—smiling a little—"he was too con ceited—at any rate ho could not bring himself to believe that I really meant to decliuo the honor he wished to confer upon rne. lie declared that a woman's 'So' always meant 'Yes,' and ho bothered mo so that for the sake of pence I agreed to take a week to think over the matter, and at the end of that time to write and give him my tinal answer. The week will bo up to-morrow, so I must come ton speedy decision. I told him at the time that thinking it over would not make any difference, that my reply must always bo the same; but now—l don't know—perhaps ho was right—l have thought and rethought until I am half distracted, and I don't know in the least what to say to him. after all. There, now—l have told you the whole story, Susan, and I want you to help 1110." "It is hard for me to advise you, Pop pie," I say slowly, after wo have sat for some time in silence. "You see, I have never seen this -Mr. Harris, and nover even heard of him until this afternoon. What kind of a man is he?" I "I don't think he is anything out of the common, one way or the other,'' mv sister answers reflectively. "Ho is good natured and generous after a fashion; ho has an exalted opinion of his own merits and his money; and—yes, decidedly there is a touch of vulgarity about him!" "But he is fond of you?" 1 asked quickly. Poppie smiles slightly. "Well, yes, 1 think so," she replies; lat any rate, he no doubt considers that I should suit his purpose very well. Ho wants some one to wear his diamonds for him, drive in his carriages and .fill his great houses with smart people—in fact, to help to show off his wealth; and all that I could do very well." "It would be very nice to bo rich, though," I murmur half to mvsolf. 4 'Yes. I know that; but is money everything?" says Poppie. "Of course you could not bo expected to love him," I begin hesitatingly. "Of course not. Wlmt an idea!" 4 4 But so many people marry for mono}' nowadays; and you don't—" I pause for a few seconds, ami then continue ner ' vousfjr— 4 *you doa't lave any one else, I supnoao, roppio?" "If suppose not," she returns. "Are yo i sure? " I usk. inwardly quak ing as to the result of my boldness. "Bo cause" "Because what?" she says a littlo sharply. "Because I once fancied— I may have bcou wrong, and you must not bo vexed with mo if I wus—but I did fancy thoro was something between you and Jack Neville," I blurted out desperately. Poppio flushes scarlet and frowns; then she asks quietly:— "What made vou think so? " "Oh, I don't know—lots of things!" I reply. "You have been a great deal together all your lives, and But I suppose I was wroug; thero wus noth ing''; —; ''Nothing whatever—you are quito wrong!" sho unswors, "but sho avoids my glance and moves restlessly in her chair. "I nmsorry," I say stupidly, "I should have liked Jack for my brother iu-law, and " I como to a sudden stop, for Poppie has risen quickly from her seat and stands beforo mo with angry eyes and flushed cheoks. Tho next minute, how ever, sho presses her quivering lips to gether and turns away. "You have wandered from tho point as usual, Susan," she suys coldly. "Wo were discussing Mr. Harris, not Jack Neville, and wo do not seem to be get ting any nearer to a decision." "Suppose you write a letter and boo what it looks like!" 1 suggest. She walks over to tho littlo writing table by tho window and, sitting down | before it, opens the blotter and dips a pen into the ink. "Which ought I to put, Susan, 'Dear Mr. Harris,'or'My Deur Mr. Harris?'" she asks, doubtfully. "That will depend, I think, on what you are going to say," I roply. "Try 'Dear' first. "What comes next, supposing this to bo a refusal, vou know?" " 'Much as I appreciate the honor you havedone me,'" I prompt glibly, ""'I rogret that I must adhere to my formor decision.'" | "It sounds just like a Polite Letter Writer,"objects Poppie; but I suppose I must put something like that;"and she writes it down. "It looks perfectly hor rid, Susan!" she goes on plaintively. "Oh, why did I over say that I would write? I had no idea it would be so dif ficult. If one could put just plain' Yes' or 'No,' and sign one's name to it, how much easier it would be!" "Try something olso then; see what it would look like if you said * Yes.' " She takes a fresh sheet of paper. "I suppose it must bo 4 My Dear'this time," she says, sighing. Well, Susan, I've committed myself so far; but it seems more hopelessly hard than the re fusal. How in the world am Ito word it?" While I rack my brains for a suitable sentence Poppio gazes disconsolately out of the window. Suddenly the pen falls from her fingers and she pushes back her chair with a suppressed ex clamation as some one on a brown cob rides swiftly past the window. 44 Who was it?" I asked eagerly, got' ting up. "It was Jack," replies Poppie slowly, j She has risen to her feet and stands with I her hand on the hack of the chair. "How nice of him to como over and -> see UR! I don't believe he has been hero | since before you went to the Nugents'," j 1 say delightfully, as I throw another log ' upon the fire in anticipation of our l visitor. Hut when I turned again toward my sister I perceive that she has hurried to the door and is in the act of turning the handle. "Poppie," I cry, flying across the room to her side, 44 where" are you going?" "I have u headache—l Oh, Susan, let mo go! You can tell Jack I was sorry not to see him—anything you like; hut—" She pulls her arm from iny de taining grasp and opens tho door for flight; hut she is too late—Jack Neville is already standing on the mut outside. 44 How are you?" I say cheerfully, us I hold out a welcoming hand to him. "I have not seen you for so long that I had olmost forgotten what you were like!" He laughs a little us he shakes hands with me, and then turns quickly to Pop pie, who is standing silently beside mo with her eyes fixed on the carpet. "So you have come back ut last!" ho says. "It appears so," she returns, still with out looking ut him. "Before you went away wo quarrelled, Poppio, didn t we?" ho goes on hastily. "Are we friends again now, or are we enemies?" Slowly Poppio looks up from the floor to his face; then she colors a littlo as she puts her baud into his und answers nervously: "Let us be friends." 44 Wail, Susan," says Jack a little later, as he stnnds with his back to the firo sip ping hot tea, "have you auy news to toll me?" "No," I reply, shaking my head as I shut the lid of the teapot with a bung; "but 1 might have if—" "What an enigmatical remark!" Ho oxclnims, laughing. "What does it mean? You might have if—what?" 44 1 am not suro if I may tell you," I answer, casting a doubtful look at Poppie. "(Hi, then it concerns Poppie, does it, this mysterious piece of news?" and he ! glances at her too. I "May I tell?" I ask persuasively. I "Certainly, if you wish to do so," re turns my sister. 44 We11, then, Jack, Poppie lias had a proposal from a very rich man, and she can't make up hor mind whether to ac cept him or not. Isn't it odd?" "Isn't what odd?" "That she is not able to decide what to say to him. Of course it would not be a love match; but then she would have— ; oh, everything sho could possibly want; I and, if that would not satisfy her and make her huppy forever after, as the story book says, what would?" "What, indeed!" says Juckslowly and thoughtfully. "As you say, Susan, it is very odd." I have known Jack Neville from my childhood; still I do not quite understand him. He has an uncomfortable way of seeming to agreo with one, yet there is an indescribable somothing in his very quietness of face and manner which arouses a suspicion that 110 is laughing at 0110 all the time. "Jack, lam really in earnost," I say, a little reproachfully. He turns to me quickly. "So am I, Susan." And as I look searchingly at him I can not detect the faintest glimmer of a laugh on his grave handsome face or in his steady eyes. "Well, then, I wish you would help mo to decide for Poppie. Of course I only want to do what will be for her happi ness" "Of course," ho interposes gravoly; "but what way do Poppies own inclina tions lie?" At this Poppie rises from her chair and, coining over to the tea table, puts down hor empty cup and turns to Jack. 44 1 assure you I have 110 inclination one way or the other, sho says hurriedly, with a faint, nervous littlo laugh; "I stand 011 perfectly neutral ground; it is a matter of absoluto indifference to 1110." "That being the case, would it not bo the fairest und simplest way to draw lots?'' Jack quietly suggests. "Of course it would! How stupid not to have thought of that before," I cry, rising quickly and running over to the writing table. "I will just write 'Yes 1 on one piece of paper and 'No' on an other, and then fold them in exactly the same way." When I return with the neatly folded slips of paper in my hand I notice with some surprise that my sistor is Hushed and that her oyeß gleam excitedly, which seems strange in a person who hardly five minutes ago declared herself per fectly indifferent as to the upshot of the affair. "Now, then, Poppie, will you draw?" I say briskly. "1 myself do not really know which is which." Quickly drawing back her dark head, Poppie steps forward. Jack is standing at a little distance bohind her, intently watching as she strotches out her hand toward tho paper that is to decido her fate. She hesitates for a moment, touch ing tho slips irresolutely, then her fingers close firmly upon one. "I will take this," she says, a little ex citedly. "Very Well. Now bo quick and open it for I do not know which it is I" I cry eagerly. As sho stands before mo without mov ing all tho pretty color fades out of her face. "I am afraid to look," alio pays, in a tone that is only u little louder than a whisper; then she turns round suddenly to Jack. "Will you read it forme?" she says, putting the paper hurriedly into his hand and drawing a deep breath. Slowly—oh, so slowly!— Jack unfolds the little slip and roads the one word written on it. Poppie is trembling all over, and her eyes are fixed on his face, which wears a curious expression, such as I never saw there before. There is u short silence, and then Jack looks up. his eyes meet Poppio's eager ones and he laughs a little. "The Fates have proved themselves kind for once, at any rate," ho says. "I must congratulate you, Poppie." "You moan —what?" she says, and then.stops, uuablo to say more. "You havo drawn 4 Yes,' " says Juck. slowly. "Oh, how," I begin ecscatically, but got no further. What on earth has hap pened to Poppie and Jack? She has started forward with a sudden cry, and they arc now staring at each other in the most extraordinary way, while his face has become almost as pale as hers. She snatches the paper ho is holding out to her, tears it furiously across and across, and then, throwing away the pieces, bursts into tears. "Poppie, Poppie," I cry, dismayed at this most unexpected turn of affairs, 44 why, how can you bo such a baby? Of course you needn't" Hut hero Jack gently puts mo aside and, coming close up to my sobbing sis ter, calmly takes one of her bauds in his own. "Poppio," he saya kindly, "do not dis tress yourself, do not cry so. Did you think for a moment that I would let you marry that man? And you actually dared to say it was a matter of indiffer ence to you when you know that I loved you, and when I knew Oil, Poppie, my darling, did you think I did not know?" He is not satisfied now with holding her hand; ho puts his arm around her and draws her pretty head down upon his shoulder. I At this juncture it dawns upon me that my presence is most unnecessary, so I steal away softly, leaving them alone. And lam very certain that poor Mr. Harris will have to look out for an other Butiublo person to wear his dia monds now. Pears Without Cores* Writers ofton express surpriso that there should bo an orange without seeds, but this experience is met with in almost all kinds of fruits. There is an apple called Mennochor's Nocore, so named ex pressly from tho total übsenco of seeds. An illustration of this is in the Rutter pear; it is extremely raro that seed is found in it, although they arc occasion ally there. The common currant, Zanto currant of the stores, is simply a grapo which docs not produce seeds. A singu lar feature about these varieties is, that they seem to increase in productiveness by reason of this want of perfection in the seed. The Rutter pear is especially a groat bourer; there seems almost as many pears as leaves on tho tree. Un fortunately, if allowed all to como to per fection, tho fruit is of inferior quality, but when properly thinned out tho flavor is delicious.—[Mechan's Mont,kly. THE JOKER'S BUDGET. IESTS AM) YARNS BY FUNNY MEN OF THE PRESS. \ Man of the World—A Futile Ex periment—Not the Office He Wanted—Had Seen Better Days— Often Longed For, Etc., Etc. A MAN OF THE WORLD. Beggar—Please, sir, will ye lend mo a limo ter git somethin' ter oat." Gentleman—You've got a quarter in pour hand now. What's that for? Beggar—That's tor tip th' waiter.— [New York Weekly. A FUTILE EXPERIMENT. When I proposod to her I thought I vould have the last word, and this is how [ didn't get it: After deseribing my condition and prospects I said: "Will you have mo?" " x es," she said. "Thank you," said I. "You're welcome," said she. "You are very kind to say so," I said. "Not at all," she answered. "I am very grateful," X added. "Don't mention it," she said. I let it go at that. I saw it was no I aso.—[New York Press. NOT THE OFFICE HE WANTED. "Wh.at's'tho matter with Glumm these Jays that he looks so sour?" "Things have gone wrong with him lately. He has been trying to get up a benefit club for some time and it was or ganized the other night, and they made him president." "Well, wasn't that what ho wanted?" "No, ho wanted to bo treasurer."— [Now York Press. HAD SEEN BETTER DAYS. Mr. Sollit—Well, Uncle Eph, how are are gettin' along these days?" Uncle Eph—Oh, I 'm gettin' along fine. It's a mighty poor day 1 don't make my two or three dollars. Mr. Sellit—You must bo gettin' rich. Sposo you pay mo that little bill you owe mo. Uncle Eph—Well, you'll have to ox suse me to-day Mr. Sollit. You see, I've been havin' a lot of mighty poor days lately.—[Harper's Bazar. OFTEN LONGED FOR. Little Boy (pointing to window of rub ber store) —What's tlioni? Mamma—Those arodiving suits, mado all of rubber, so the diver wou't get wet. Little Boy—l wisht I had one. —Why, what for, my dear? Little Boy—To wear when you wash MR. MEEIt'S COUNTENANCE. Littlo Terror—Mamma, Mr. Meok's skin is as smooth as papa's. No marks an it at all. Mamma —Just hear the child, Mr. Mceks. Of course there aro no marks on it, my pet. Littlo Terror—Bui you said the hens had been pecking him.—[Now York Weekly. WHEN SHE FOUND OUT. Before they wod ho used to ravo About her voice of bird-like pitch, INltos soft and mellow then, you know, For sho still fancied ho was rich; JoA when sho know the truth of it, That they must eat both soup and bono, She cbuugod the pitch, and now sho talks In rich and heavy dark brown tone. —[New York lioruld. A BEASTLY LOW PLACE. Chuppio (aftor receiving the bill of faro from the wuitor—Lot us get out of heah. Uhollio—What faw? Chuppie—This is a beastly low placo. Chollie—How do you know? " Chappie—The bill of iu Eng lish, dontcherkuow. SAME OLD WAY. Bfr. Hnmm—llow did tho audiences otriko you out West this tiino, Fatter? Mr. Fatter—Same old way—with oggs. NO GOOD REASON, pretty Cousin —Your friend Dr. Lan ' eot passed me down town to-day without even a bow. He—Oh, well, you know lie's awfully ahsont minded. He's so completely do votod to his surgical practice. Pretty Cousin—But that's no reason why ho should cut me.—[New York Herald. A MISAPPREHENSION. "Why, Edwin," oxclaimod tho tearful! brido, "you certainly told ino before wo wore married that you would gladly givo mo all tho pin m<ney I wanted." "Yes," said Edwin, gloomily; "1 know I did; but I didn't suppose you meaut diamond pins." —[Somervillo Journal. FRAGRANT FLOWERS. Florist—Here tako this cart-load of flowers to the Highstylo Opera House." Now Man —"Yossir. What shall I "Unload 'orn at the front entrance, and givo 'cm to the ushers to present to the prima donna after tho curtain falls on the third act." "Yessir." "Then relond 'em at tho stage door and bring 'em back again."—[Good News. EASY. "What is tho sweetost thing ii; all tho world?" My sweetheart asked, thon heaved a tender sigh 4r-d stole a glance at me that plainly said, "I'll be ortendod if it is not I." A HANDY TOOL. Mrs. Blinks —Where in tho world is Mr. Blinks' revolver? I forgot to take it from under his pillow this morning. New Girl (a recent arrival) —What's it like, mum? "It's about so long, with a crook at ono end, and it's bright like silvor." "I don't know, mum, unless it's that tiling little Tommy is hauunerin' tacks wid. —[Good News. MISS KATE'S LITTLE JOKE. "They tell ino you are a happy father." "Yes." "Are you setting up tho cigars?" "No. I'm sitting up nights." A NEEDED EFFORT. Charles —I'm trying as hard as I can, lading, to got aheud. Clara—Well, goodness knows.Charlos, ou need one badly onough. CAUSE FOR LAUGHTER. Jessie—"What are you laughing about. Bessie—Before Chappio went away ho told mc whenever I felt sad to think of tiia. HE CAN'T SEE WHY HE A "Honor thy father and thy mother* is a commandment which sounds like hol low mockery to the boy who for no rea' son except "discipline," is sent down to the collar to chop wood just as the parade is passing tho house.—[Now York Ilorald. HUMAN NATURE CROPS OUT. "Thoso two dogs across the stroot look ns if they wero spoiling for a fight. Who owns thom?" The"inongroleur with tho vicious look belongs to a neighbor of mine. The hand some, intelligent looking animal belongs to me."—[Now York Press. WEAVING A CHAIN. Kosalio—How is your now beau? Grace—Oh, ho promises well. Kosalie (warningly—Get him to write, my dear, get him to write. TIIE MOON WAS WANING. At different times Willie had boon told of tho man in tho moon, and that tho inoon is a green cheese. Putting the two statements together, ho oxclaiincd one evoning: "Tho man in the moon must be very hungry those nights." "Why, dear?" "Ho has eaten almost all the cheese." THAT MATTER SETTLED. "lie called mo tho belle of tho party,' said sho, "When escorting mo homo yester night." "Ho did," said tho other; "well, now I can seo Why thoy claim that his mind isn't right." TIME TO REBEL. Young Fathor—What on earth is ths baby yelling so about now? Young Mother (wearily)— Dear mo, I don't know. Perhaps that now nurse is singing "Comrades" to him.—[Good News. CRUEL. "I've seen very few birthdays yet," sho laughed, airily. "Ah," said he, "I understand. Born in leap year, on the 29th of February." The Tomb of l'aul aud Virginia. Many who have road that sweet and simple love story, "Paul and Virginia," do not believe that it is really founded on facts. Yet such is said to be tho case. TliomhS Wilkinson, an English man, who has resided in tho Island (\ Madagascar for thirty years, says Paul aud Virginia wore characters of nosh and blood, and not moro creatures of the novelists imagination. However, it i* not denied that tho facts in history werv embellished artistically by tho author o{ the story. About 500 miles east oi .Madagascar is situated a small island, thirty miles square, known as Mauritius When it wus tirst found by whito men there wero no traces of former possession of any people. Tho Dutch first settled the island, and it became a productive spot in raising sugar. Then tho Fronds took possession of it and finally tho En glish obtained control. Now .Mauritius is inhabited by tho Dutch, tho French, the English and a hordo of Chinese labor ers and black slaves of the sugar planta tions. On this island is seen to-uay th. tomb of the unfortunate lovers, Paul ana Virginia. It is a well authenticated pieco of history on tho island that thoso two lovers belonged to two well-to j do French families there. Virginia, wh* wa3 beautiful, and young, and artless, was sent to Franco to bo educated. While there her hand was sought by a wealthy and titled Frenchman, but shs refused his offer and remained true tc tho simple swain, Paul, of Mauritius. She started home on the ship St. Jehau, but the vessel was wrecked iu a hnrri cane when in sight of Mauritius, and her lifeless body was washed ushoro. Among tho relics of this ovont there aro kept seferal pieces of the broken timbers of St. Johan on the island, and tho marble tomb of Paul and Virginia is held in high reverence by the inhabitants as a monu ment to their uuduriug love.—[Chicago ilorald. Built u Town iu a Day. "Thoro's nothing liko it —wliou peoplo go wild over a mining discovorv," said F. C. Brampton, of Salt Lake, Utah, at tho Treinont House. "One day last August a town literally sprung up iu one day at a placo forty or fifty miles from Ogdon, where prospectors dis covered a rich voin of si Ivor. A shcop hordor picked up a nuggot of silver one day and prospectors took tho cue and soon struck a rich find. The oxcitement spread and ono morning when tho sun rose on the mining cump only ono small cabin was seen, but when the sun set that day two or three hundred people had rushed in with touts and carpenters were putting up shanties and fraino houses and stores. Tho town was called Lq Plata. The place is alivo with pros pectors yet, and the town is likely ta have a boom. Tho day 1 left Halt Lakq a strike at La Plata was reported thai assays thirty ounces silver and two an! one-half ounces gold. Tho camp is a prospective second Leadvillo. Mills will soon bo in operation. Claimants aro working every day and some ore is being mado ready for sliipmout. Tho stage linos to Ogdon are crowded with passen gers, and long lines of 'freighters' carry supplies to the stores that have been started. Talk about starting towns! No boomers can beat tho record of La Plata—literally built iu ouo day."— [Chicago Herald. How to Eat an Egg. Lot the lover of a good egg—tho one who oan eat oggs every morning all tlx year round, and who rejoices ill the reu\ egg flavor —stand the beloved article on end in a small and then, ovcx so cautiously, tap on tho othor end until a hole is mado. Let hiin, still proceed* ing cautiously, take off the broken shell until there is a bare white surface ex posed about tho size of a fivo-cent pieca Now, with an egg spoon or tin after-din ner coffee spoon, puncture the surface of the egg, anu, after dropping in a piece of butter about as largo as a white bean, let him chop up tho ontiro egg until if rests in its shell, all cut up und ready t* 1)0 eaten. It is still deliciously hot, and has parted with none of its pristine lovo* liuosß. Just as soon as well prepared it should be eaten, before it has had time to cool. Those who oat oggs in this way will testify to their glory, and those who do not take thom thus would do well to give them a trial.—[St. Louis Kopublio. JACK, tho preacher's horse, writes a correspondent from La Grango, Ga., seems to bo particularly fond of beef tongue. Some time ago ho bit off the tongue of Rov. W. E. Dozier's milch cow; and only a few days ago, in al most the sumo place and manner, he bit off the tpnguo of a yearling. Who has e ' Tie that can bet* this record. SOMEWHAT STRANGE. ACCIDENTS AND INCIDENTS OF EVERY-DAY LIFE. Queer Episodes and Thrilling Adven tures Which Show that Truth Is Stranger than Fiction. A GENTLEMAN in Trimble County, Ky., was an eye-witness to a most singular encounter between a buzzard and a huge rattlesnake, tho particulars of which are as follows: He was in the act of driving his team up to a watering trough, formed from a natural spring at the foot of a huge rock on his place, when ho was at tracted by the poculiar shriek of a buz 7'2r w *\ en ongaged in a contest with one of its kind or auy other animal over car rion which it has discovered,and on which this species of bird feeds wholly. On alighting from his wagon and drawing nearer to tho spot, ho discovered one of these well-known birds of prey, which abound there in countless numbers, en gaged in a fierco fight with a rattlesnako nearly five feet in length and measuring, as far as he was ablo to judgo, fully six and ono-half inches in circumference at tho thickest part. The gentleman de scribes the scone as a terribly fascinat ing one, and ho was in such close prox imity to it, though partially hidden from view behind a largo gurn tree, that he plainly saw evory motion of tho coin batants. The carcass of a dead lamb lay near the scone of tho battle, and tho buzzard had evidently been feeding upon it when discovering his snakesbip, which had, 110 doubt, been basking in the sun on tho rock from which tho above-men tioned spring flowed. The buzzard, with its largo, piercing, and blood-red eyes almost dilnting from their sockets, and wings half extended, as they always uro when upon tho ground, would wait for the snake to spring, and, eluding its stroke with wonderful dexterity, would dart at its antagonist and batter it with both wings und talons before it could recoil again, and retreuting, would wait for an other opportunity of attack, keeping far enough awuy from its foe to be safely out of harm's way. Tho fight waged in this manner for fully five minutes, when the ruttler.torn and lacerated by the beak and tallons of the savage bird, gave up the ghost, and, catching it up with its claws, tho buzzard, with a shriek of vic tory, flow away with its sorpeut victim in tho direction of tho Indiana shore. THE power of (simulating death pos sessed by the fakirs of India and Persia is said to bo perfectly incredible. Ap parent death is a part of the religious ceremony of some of the socts of those countries, and in many oases verified by British official reports in India, fakirs have allowed themselves to be buried for as long a time as six months. The way the fakirs go to work to produce this condition is to have the little ligature under the tongue cut, whereby they aro enabled to stretch this organ out to ft groat length. Then they turn it back, inserting the end in the throat, and clos ing up at the same time the itaner nasal apertures, The external apertures of the nose and cars are closed with wax, and tho eyes covered to exclude the light. Long preliminary practice is, however, needed in holding the breath, and a long course of fasting before burial. Tho fakir then sinks into a condition fcsemb ling doath, and the body Is wrapped in linen, placed in a box and buried. Whon tho box is taken up, at the expiration of tho long-continued doath-liko sleep, and opened, the fakir is found cold and stiff, no pulsations can bo felt, the heart, the wrist, the temples are still. Tho body is not cold as a corpse would be, but is coldor than that of other living men, ex cept over the seat of the brain. All the secretions are fully stopped; the hair, nails and beurd have ce*?fd growth. After being resuscitated, the fakir feels great dizziness, und for u few hours can not stand up without support, but grad ually ho recovers strength, and enjoys amazingly the wonder he has excited. IT was recently stated that the Mormons were finding a now country for the prac tice of their creed in Mexico, and that the emigration from Utah was already large. The report now comes from Salt Lake City that Mr. S. F. Spencer, a local real estate doalor, has sold to a Mormon company the Hacienda de la Presa ranch, containing 100,000 acros of laud and sit uated in Chihuahua, about ninety-five miles southwest of the city of that name. The capital of the company is said to be $1,000,000. Some 3,500 acres of the land are under cultivation, and the timber tract is extensive. Sawmill and factory machinery is to bo transported there in the spring, when it is understood that there will bo a hegiru from the old Zion to the new. The lands uro described as bmng situated in the foothills of the Sierra Mculre Mountains, at an elevation of 5,000 feet above sea level. The ele vation of the region and the presence of timbered hills gives a climate free from the extremes of heat and cold, and the region is noted for its healthfulness. Such fruits and vegetables as are raised in Utah and the Middle States can bo produced by irrigation, while corn and other usual crops of the country are raised without irrigation. THE great fifty-ton hninmor in tho Krupp Gun Works at Essen, Germany, gained its name and tho inscription it boars, "Fritz, let fly!" in the following manner: In 1877, when old Emperor William visited tho gun works this groat steam trip-hammer was the first thing to attract his attraction. Krupp thon in troduced tho veteran Emperor to the ma chinist Fritz, who, ho suid, handled tho giant hammer with wonderful precision; that he was so export with it as to drop the hammer without injuring an object placed in the centre of tho block. The Emperor at once put his diamond-studded watch on the spot indicated and beckoned to tho muchinist to set the hammer in motion. Fritz hosituted out of consider ation for tho precious object, but Krupp and tho Emperor Doth urged him on by saying: "Fritz, let fly!" Instantly the hammer was dropped, coming so closely to tho watch that a sheet of writing pa per could not bo inserted botweon, but tho jewel was uninjured. Tho Emperor gavo it to Fritz as a souvenir. Krupp added $250 to tho present. WILLIAM LKARY, owner of the Gem Theatre, Suspension Bridge,N. Y.,has en tered into a wager by which ho stunds to lose his theatre, or win $2,000. Loary wagors that ho can organize a "tramps variety show" consisting of fivo men and five women who will walk from New York to Chicago in 100 days (Sundays except ed), and give shows on tho way. The compauy must start from Now Yorkon Junol, 1892, without a cent of money in their pockets, and they are to use no monoy except what is earned by the show. Thoy will also have the privilege of showing ono night in Now York city. In case any of tho actors got sick, a stretch er will bo provided and tho rest will have to carry him or her, as the case may be, Tho wager grew out of a discussion on the going to pieces of shows on tho road and their being left in towns. One of tho parties wagering against Mr. Leary in Mr. Whalen, proprietor of the White Elephant Hotel, ot Suspension Bridge. A forfiet has boon posted and the bal ance is to be deposited by Mardh 1. MRS. EDWARD I). JONES, wife of a former well-known business man of Pittsburg, who died recently near Balti ! more, was quite a churactor, though a | very retired aud refined lady. She had a mortal fear of railroads and of the ocean, and never would accompany her husbaud on any of his pleasure or busi ness trips, only taking two lengthy rail road journeys in her life. One was shortly after hor marriage, when she was badly hurt in an accident. It was ten years before Mr. Jones could porsuado her to tako another, and her fears were tully vindicated by a general smash-up, in which, fortunately, though her head v was caught between a seat and the side r or a car, she was not hurt. That set tied the cars for her. Mr. Jones has been a prominent insurance man in Lon don for years, but Mrs. Jones has always stoutly refused to visit his present abode. >V hen Mr. Jones wanted a chat with Mrs. Jones, he just took the first boat and a little trip of 3,000 miles. "I SEE a report of the peculiar conduct of a child after being bitten by a cat," said Dr. J. W. Thudheld ut the Laclede Hotel, in St. Louis. -The child is said to move stealthily about the house, to mew and to do other things like a com mon Tabby. For my part I believe the statement is purely imaginative. It comes from the idea that one affected with hydrophobia imitates a dog. That is a common dolusion with as little foun dation as other delusions. It is true that a person sometimes seems to bark, but what is called a bark is due to an intenso pain of the throat and the difficulty of speaking. The same cause produces the dislike of all kinds of liquid—a dislike which the public in genoial imagine is confined to water. This is the true theory about hydrophobia upou which so much ignorance ut present prevails." PARISIAN burglars have just covered themselves with glory, from u profes sional standpoint, and accomplished what it is safe to say is the greatest achieve ment ever reached in their lino. They succeeded in stealing an entire house with all its contents. A. M. Collin, a building contractor, erected on a lot of ground near Blue Jassint, a two-story wooden house covorod with zinc, in which he placed a considerable quantity of valuable building materials, tools, etc. One night a gang drove up with horses and wagons, stopped before the building, took it entirely to pieces and carried off the whole establishment without being interfered with. THERE is a bearskin on exhibition in Hudson's gun store that takes the cake, says the Portland Oregonian. It is nine and one-half feet in length and eight and one-half feet across in tho widest place. Tho bear that wore this skin was a grizzly, and ho lived in far-off Alaska. Judging from tho size of the skin ho must have been us large as two ordinary cows, and could not have weighed less that 2,500 pounds. It is by far tho largest bearskin that has ever been seen in Portland, and even old bear hunters who aro told of its dimensions shake their heads in an incredulous man ner until they soo it with their own eyes. THERE recently died in England the man to whom tho English language is indebted for tho verb "to burke." In the year 1827 this man, whoso namo was Burke, discovered away to muko a lazy and congenial livelihood by killing peo ple and selling their bodies to physiciuns for dissection. The pructico was kept up until stopped by tho hand of law. There upon the word "burking" camo into use to denote killing for mercenary motives and. metaphorically, all political as saults upon chaructor. Tho word has had sufficient life to get into tho diction aries, and Burke will be handed down to an unlovely but eternal fame. A U.VIQE marriage ceremony has just been performed in Baltimore. Tho ser vice was tho Episcopal. The groom was a deaf mute, but the bride was able to talk. The officiating clergyman was deaf. The groom's answers woro spelt out in the deaf mute alphabet. Ho is a painter and has done very creditable work. The minister, by tho way, was the Rev. J. M. Koehler, of Philadelphia, who presides over a church of deaf mutes in that city, though his pastorate ex tends over Pennsylvania, Delaware, New Jersey and Maryland. Though deaf, he speaks well. MRS. GARCIA, of Now Yo-k, the other day, saw a man dash out of the hallway of her house. She ran out after him and saw him running up the street. In the area was a big Newfoundland dog, the property of a neighbor- "Catch him, Charlie," she cried, audChnrlie was after him like a shot, and presently had him by the coat-tail, and there he staid until a police officer came along, when Charlie released his hold and quietly accompanied tho prisoner to the station house. When he saw the man properly locked up ho re turned homo. IN Berlin there appears to be little reverence for the doau. Tho old cholera churchyard of 1831, which afterward be came a cemetary for the poor, has long been neglected, though thero havo been funerals thero during the last ton years. Tho place is now to be changed. In the lower part of tho churchyard, where a new church is to bo built, the graves have been oponod, and tho skeletons and reinuins of coffins taken out, to bo buried in a general grave higher up, whero it is intended to make a public garden. TIIE German Kaiser is said to be extra vagantly fond of white, especially of white trousers. The late Governor Hovey, of Indiana, had a similar liking for white—a liking that extended even to the use of white rose extract as his favor ite perfume. His linen was always im macculate in its glossiuess, and he used to buy his white uecktiesin lots of twen ty-five, so that the instant one became soiled he could replace it with a fresh one PROFESSOR NOTIINAGKL, tho Austrian court physician, traces the grip back to tho ninth century, and says it recurs with varying intensity for three or four years and then dies out for twenty or more years, lie knows no remedy. IN an address delivored at tho Chicago Auditorium undor tho auspices of the Chicago Tress Club, Dr. Leslie E. Keelcy, discoverer of the remedy for the alcohol habit, made clear why ho so stead fastly refused to give up tho secret of cure to the publio. In explaining why ho did not make his socrot public property, he said he was afraid that it would soon be a sobering-up process instoad of a cure; that it would be used by liquor dealers themselves to brace their patrons up after a protracted spree, only to get into condition for another debauch. Under such circumstances, the doctor said, to give his cure to the publio would be to destroy its efficacy.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers