Tn Holland Uie rear IMS only marked li.v tirst trial of an extension of the right of suffrage. The Chicago Times alleges that trol ley mortality statistics are tilling the 1 daily space formerly given to cholera reports. . The Boston Commercial Bulletin estimates that the total yield of wool in 18113 was 364,150,6156 pounds, the largest American clip ever raised. The impression prevails iu leading commercial circles in Germany that the seven lean years are ended and that better times are coming with the new year. Ouida describes the nineteenth cen tury clothing of an Englishman as "the most frightful, grotesque and disgrace* | ful mule costume which the world has ever seen." Charity pawn shops, where people may get more nearly the worth of their goods that they are compelled to part with than now. are suggested by some ! of the charitably disposed, states the Detroit Free Press. State Geologist Smock, of New Jer sey, who has been on a business trip ; to Holland, says he thinks 300,000 ; acres of Jersey meadow land can be reclaimed by adopting the Holland system of embankments and dikes. The Cleveland Leader thinks that the proposed improvement of country roads, by laying steel railway tracks to be used by wagons and electric cars, will hardly satisfy the wheelmen, to whom all the credit for the agita tion iu favor of better roads is due. The New York Journal avers that the hard times have had a curiam ef fect in reducing the sales of condi- j inents, sauces and similar table lux uries. A man who has u family to 1 provide for would rather buy corned beef than curry when the money runs | short. A composite picture of the Ameri can of the future would be worth j go ing a long way to see. According to Henry Watterson, of the Courier- Journal, he will he a union of Cava- 1 lier, PfTTitaii. Celt, Teuton, Scandi navian and other elements too numer ous to mention. Reports received at the War Depart ment of recent small-arms competi tions among the troops in the Far West show conclusively, relates the Washington Star, that the noble red man as represented in Uncle Bain's military service docs not compare very favorably with his pale-face brother in the matter of shiirpshoot ing. 1 here is a popular id on, gained from Cooper's Leather Stocking Tales and even more modern literature about the "dusky denizens of the for est. that nil warriors arc superior marksmen. Army statistics prove that this is a romantic delusion, so far as tlic .Indian soldier is concerned. Some time ago Mr. Carnegie, the ex tensive ironmaster, was approached by th relief committee of Pittsburg and asked what he was willing to do for the suffering unemployed of that ! city. Mr. Carnegie replied that he would duplicate the sub- ; scriptions of the whole city. The committee went to work with a Bill to make him give as much as pos sible, and hud up to a few days since secured subscriptions amounting t 860,795, when by some means Mr. Carnegie's offer became public. The committee says that the publication has done an incalculable injury to the good work, RH the subscriptions at once fell oft' to almost nothing, '/' he people of the city argue tlrnt if the millionaire is going to give so large a sum it is unnecessary to make an effort. The "Excelsior," the largest din raond in the world, is now deposited in one of the safes of the Bunk of Eng land. It was found in June last in the mines of Jagersfontein, Cape Colony, by Captain Edward Jorganson, the in spector of the mine. Tn his opinion, corroborated by that of the director, Mr. Gilford, the "Excelsior" is a stone of the purest water, and is worth about 85,000,000. It is fully three inches iu height, and nearly three inches in breadth, weighing 971 carats, or about seven ounces troy. The color of the Jagersfontein diamond is white with e very slight bluish tint ; and its lustre is matchless. At tin centre is a very small black spot, which experts consider will be easily removed ii, the cutting. According to \| \. West the British Government have offered half a million pounds sterlin • ~r this diamond to the proprietor*. M. rs. Rn itiueycr and Ucrnhcimer, but the tub r has been refused, THE COMING OF NIOHT, 'The loitering Day looked backward, smiling, And slipped out through the west, j Where rosy, misty forms beguiling Besought her for their guest ; '•Oh. follow, follow through the west 1 "Our golden portals wide are swinging For thee alone, for thee. And wistful voices clear are ringing Across the darkling sea. Iu eager welcoming to thee."- Aloft her silver censer holding, The star-eyed Night drew close, Her mantle round the hushed earth folding. J More sweetly breathed the rose. As Night with fender tears drew close. Her dusky sandals softly gleaming With wandering threa Is of gold, Hr-'idered by vagrant fireflies, seeming Beneath each wing to hold A fairy spinning threads of gold. With silent footfall, weaving slowly A mystic, slumbrous spell, She came; and something sweet and holy The weary earth befell When woven in the slumbrous spell. —Celiu A. Hayward, in Jdppsncott. ON TUI-f HIIINK. BY FRANCOIS COPPEE. > I <*s K i f\ HEN L,,cien de ! \A/ Hern san ; l,iß IRHt , 1 ~vj \[ y piece of money I / \ •>. | raked in by the /ji I h f" banker, and got up v ) | % from the roulette v# W table where he had Vt'.di , ;< T just lost the re i mainder of his lit - j / T' ifnV ' tie fortune wliich V A. had brought IT jj | there for his final seized with verti go and narrowly escaped falling to the floor. Witli a weary brain and trembling legs, lie threw himself upon a long leather safe which surrounded the gambling table. For several minutes he looked vaguely about these private gambling rooms where he had spoiled the most beautiful years of his youth, recog nized the worn features of the differ ent gamblers, cruelly lighted by the great shaded lamps, heard the soft clinking of the gold upon the green table, felt that he was ruined, lost, and remembered that he had at home, in the drawer of the coinmode, a pair of pistols which had once been the prop erty of his father, General de Hern, when he was a captain; then, only, worn out with fatigue, lie fell into a profound sleep. When he awakened, his mouth dry and parched, he ascertsined by glauc- ( ing at the clock that he had scarcely slept a quarter of an hour, and he felt j an overwhelming desire to breathe the I fresh, cool, night, air. The hands of the clock pointed to a quarter of an hour of midnight. As he arose and i stretched himself, he remembered that ' it was ChristlllßH eve, and with an ironical play of the memory, be saw himself a little child and putting, be fore, he went to bed, his shoes in front of the fireplace. At this moment, old Drouski, a pillar of the place, a typical Pole, wearing P rusty, long coat, trimmed with braid and large ornaments, ap proached Lucien and muttered these words through his gray beard: "Lend me five francs, sir. It is now j two days since I iiave not left the I club, and during these two days f ! have not seen 'seventeen' win. Yon may laugh at me, it you wish, but I will cut off my right hand if soon, at I midnight, this number is not the | Lumen de Hern shrugged hisshoul- : ders. He had not even enough in his pockets to give to that beggar, whom the frequenters of the place called | "le* cents sous du Polonais." He passed into the anteroom, took his hat and coat and went down the staircase j with a feverish agility. Since -I o'clock, when Lucien went into the club, the snow had been fall ing steadily and the street—a narrow one in the centre of Paris, with high j houses on either side—was white with snow. In the calm, black-blue sky I the cold stars scintillated. Uie ruined gambler shivered in his furs and began to walk rapidly, turn ing over always in his inind those lopeless thoughts and dreaming more I than ever of the box of pistols which ■ awaited him in the drawer of his com- j mode; but after having taken several j , steps, he stopped suddenly before a | heart-rending spectacle. Upon n stone bench, placed accord : ing to an old custom near the large door of a private house, a little girl scarcely six or seven yearn old, dressed in H ragged black frock, WHS sitting in the snow. She had fallen asleep there despite the cruel cold, in a pitiful at titude of fatigue and dejection, and h* i poor little head and tiny shoulder find dropped into corner of the wail and were resting upon the icy stone. 'i' the old wooden shoes with which th - child was shod had fallen , from the foot, which was banging ; down, and lay drearily before her. j Mechanically Lucien de Hern put i his hand to his vest pocket, but he re we inhered that a moment before he j did not find even a franc, and that he could not give a fee to the club waiter; nevertheless, pushed by uu instinctive sentiment of pity, lie approached the ■ lit We girl, mid he started, perhaps, to raise lier in his arms ami to give her pine of shelter for tlie night, when he I saw something glisten in the shoe | uhc-ii had fallen from her foot. If< bent over it; it WHS H twenty livi - rane piece. A charitable person-—a woman, no don'id hud passed that way, had seen .:i 1 hot Christmas eve I lint shoes that i id fallen in front of llie sleeping d. mi I ir.-ailing the touching i /end, -he had carefully placed there a great gift, so that the little aban doned child could believe yet in Santa Claus, and Bhould retain, in spite of her unhappiuess and misery, some Confidence and some hope in the good ness of Providence. Twenty-five francs! There was in it several days' rest and wealth for the beggar, and Lucien was upon the point of awakening her to tell her of it, when he heard near his ear, like an hallucination, a voioe--the voice of the Pole with his thick and drawing accent- that murmured low these words: "It is now two days that I have not | left the club, and during these two days I have not seen 'seventeen' win. I will cut off my right hand if soon, at midnight, this number is not the one." Then this young man, twenty-three years old, who was descended from a race of honorable people, who bore a superb military name, was possessed with a mad, hysterical, monstrous de sire ; with one look he assured himself that he was really alone in that deserted street, and bending his knee and push ing his hand tremblingly into the fallen shoe, he stole the twenty-five franc piece. Then, ruuning with all his strength, he returned to the gambling house, climbed the staircases with a few strides, pushed open with his fist the padded door of the cursed room, and reached it just ns the clock was strik | ing twelve placed upon the green cloth the gold piece and cried : "I stake it all on 'seventeen !' " Number seventeen was the winning number. With a turn of the hand Lucien placed his double funds on "red." Red was the winning color. He tried all of his money again on the same color. Red came the second time. He doubled his preceding stakes twice, three times, always with the Hame luck. He had before him now a cup of gold and banknotes, and lie scattered them over the table franti cally. All the combinations brought him success. It was a chance never heard of before. Something supernatural. One would have said that the little ivory ball jumping into the pigeon holes of the roulette table was fasci nated and magnetized by the gambler and obeyed him. He had recovered in a score of plays the few miserable notes of a thousand francs, his last re source, which he had lost at thebegin l ning of the evening. At present covering with several hundred francs at a time, and served always by liis fantastic luck, lie was in L a fair way to regain all, and more than j ( his family fortune which he had in so I few years squandered, j In his haste and desire to play he j hail not taken off his overcoat; already ' | he had filled the great pockets with I j rolls of notes and gold pieces ; and not j ! knowing where to heap up his gains Jhe thrust paper and gold into the i i pockets of liiH inside coat, his vest and j | trousers pockets, his cigar case, his ! , . handkerchief, every place that could : r Nerve as a receptacle. And lie played | . j always, and he gained always, like a , : madman, like u drunken mnn ! and he threw hia handfulH of gold upon the table at hazard, with a gesture of cer tainty and disdain! Only there was something burning in his breast like a red-hot iron, and he thought constantly of the little beg gar from whom he had stolen. She is still in the same place! She inust be there! immediately, yes, when the clock strikes one, I swear to myself that I will get away from this place. 1 will take her, asleep, in my arms. I will take her home with me; she shall sleep in my bed to-night; I will bring her up and I will settle a large amount on her; T will love her as my daughter, and I will take care of her always, always! But the clock struck one, ami a quar ter past and half past, and a quarter to two, and Lucien was still seated at that infernal table. At last, one minute before two, the head of the house got up abrubtly and said in a loud voices: 'The bank is broken, gentlemen ; enough for to day." With one bound Lucien was on his feet and, pushing aside recklessly the curious who surrounded and regarded him with an envious admiration, he went out quickly, rushing down the stairs and running to the stone bench there. From a distance, by the light of a gas jet, he could see the little girl. "Thank God!" hecried, "she is still there." He approached her, and seized her tiny hand. "Oh, how cold she is. Poor little thing!" He took her in his arms, and raised her to carry her. The head of the j child fell back without awakening her. "How one sleeps at her age!" He pressed her agaiust Viis breast to warm hc*r; and. seized with n vague I inquietude, he tried, in order to draw her from this heavy sleep, to kiss her ' on the eyelids, as one does to awaken gently a loved one. And then he perceived with horror that the eyelids of the child were lialf open, ahd that the eyeballs were j glassy, set and sightless. His brain whirled with a horrible suspicion ; he put his mouth close to I that of the little girl; not a breath came from it. During the time Lucien had gained 1 a fortune with the money stolen from the little beggar, the poor child with out a home hail died, died from expos -1 ure to the cold. Peeling in his throat u horrible choking sensation, Lucien tried to cry , out, and in the effort that, ho made he woke up from this nightmare and bnilid himself on the club-room sofa, i where he had fallen asleep a little be ( fore midnight, and where the waiter of the gambling room, in going out about 5 o'clock, had left him sleep ing, out of pity for the ruined man. A misty December sunrise lighted tip the window panes. Lucien wont out, pawned his watch, took a bath, breakfasted, aud went to ft recruiting officer, where he signed a voluntary engagement in the First African Infantry. To-day Lucien de Hern is a lieuten ant, he has only his pay to live on, but he gets out of it very well, being a steady officer and never touching A card ; it would seem also that he finds it possible to save something out of it, for the other day, at Algiers, one of his comrades walking a little behind in a hillv street of the Kaspa, saw him give something to a little sleeping Spanish girl in a doorway, and he had the indiscreet curiosity to see what Lucien had given to the child. The inquisitive one was much sur prised at the generosity of the poor lieutenant. Lucien de Hern had put in the hand of this indigent child a twenty-five franc piece.—Translated for BostoD Trauscript. His Hair Turned White. Andrew Lindsey, who IIRH lived near Pease Bottom, Montana, for many years, was strolling through the Cochran. Ho was topped out in a sombrero, and had a Western flavor to his speech. Said he: I want to tell yon a yarn about how a man's hair was turned gray in one whack. It was just after the Custer massacre that an old fellow named Pease—we called him Major Pease, because I believe he had been in the great and only Civil War—well, he pressed forward several miles beyond the hog-hack where the famous tight took place, and built a stockade at what came to be called, after him, Pea*e Bottom. He aud his men were carrying on a very thriving trade with the redskins, but at that time this business had to be conducted with great cautiou, because the savages were ugly aud scalp hungry. Two miles from the stockade was a high point, from which a survey of the country could be had for miles in all directions. A lookout was kept here fpr Indians, and suspicious circum stances or warlike demonstrations were at once reported to headquarters. One afternoon in the summer a man ; named Paul McCormick and his partner, named Edwards, were sent out to the observatory. They were riding along at a gallop through the tall grass, and were approaching the mouth of a little coulie. Edwards wasn't a tenderfoot, but he was a new comer in that region. As they careered along, McCormick said: "Edwards, what would you do if the Indiana should bounce out of that coulie?" "Well, I'd either fight or run." These words hadn't fallen from his lips before bang! went a rifle and war-whoops rent the air. Poor Ed wards dropped from his horse, and Mae, hard pressed by a baud of Black l'eet Sioux, made for the stockade. The people there knew what was lip, and the pursuers were picked oflf as they came within range of the lead. The gates were opened and McCormick rushed in. His hair was white, and lias continued so. The body of Ed wards was found lying in the bloody aud disordered grass, and the scalp was missing. It was buried on the spot, and the legend of Edwards's Coulie is one of the best, known in the far West. The folks at the stockade put up a rude headboard, but this has long ago gone to decay. A >1 iiiiutr Opportunity Missed. "Speaking of gold excitements," said George W. Beal in the presence of a little social gathering in West Park street a few evenings since, "re minds me of a chance I once had to purchase a piacer claim in Confederate gulch. The men wo owned the bar offered it to me for S4OO cash and were anxious to sell at. that figure, but I hesitated. Finally I told them 1 would have an expert examine and test the ground and if it was what the.v repre sented it to be I would purchase it. This was satisfactory, and my expert made the test and reported unfavor ably upon it. That settled the deal, and 1 went on my way in search of other fields. About two months later I returned to Confederate gulch and found a six-mule team and a wagon behind it containing two tons of gold taken from a portion of the bar those men wanted to sell me for S4OO. The team was ready to start for Fort Ben ton with the gold and was surrounded by thirty armed men. who were to guard the metal on the way. After I refused to purchase the ground the men concluded to work it themselves, and from a space of 100 feet square had taken the two tons of gold. 1 have not seen the 'expert' since then." —Butte Miner. The Arab at Home. Dr. J. P. Peters was the manager of the expedition sent out by the Uni versity of Pennsylvania in 1888 to ex plore the ruins of Babylon. "During 1 the two years I was there," said he, "I lived with many of the wild tribes around the marshes of Arabistan. The conditions in which I found them were | most deplorable. They were a most j depraved race, robbing, cheating, lying | and fighting being the daily outline of their existence. The principal diet <>f these people is half-cooked barley hread, and with a large percentage of the trihes this forms the sole diet. When 1 offered twelve cents a day for diggers nnd guards I had half the population applying to me for work, and was forced to reduce the day's wages to ten cents. When one of these men has a headache his friends burn him with red-hot irons, and many times 1 have seen wounds carefully tilled with iron rust. Their govern ' mant, or rather lack of government, is ; h practical exhibition of anarchy/' THE MERRY SIDE OF LIFE. STORIES THAT ARE TOLD BY THE FUNNY MEN OF THE PRESS. Woman- -A Bud of Very Slow Growth— No Proposals—He Was a Success — That's What Made Him Flat, Etc. With A piercing scream rrom a mouse she springs When she sees it on the floor ; wL " ' orr * '* over R men, by jings, Who commands An array corps. —New York Press. HE WAS A SUCCBSS. "Fitzgoober is always making a spec tacle of himself." "Yes, and everybody sees through him." THAT'S WHAT MADE HIM PLAT. Nell—"Robinson is A regular flat." Belle—"Yes, poor fellow, he's been sat upon a great many times."—Yan kee Blade. OUT OF THE MARKET. Floor Walker (to young lady)—"ls any one selling you?" Young Lady (sweetly) "l'm not for sale."—Boston Transcript. NO PROPOSALS. "I am single from choice," she said sarcastically. "Whose choice?" he innocently asked.—Atlanta Constitution. OF COURSE. Ruth —"I hope your marriage will he happy, dear." Kitty—"lt's bound to be. Charlie is so rich."—Detroit Free Press. A BUD OF VERY SLOW GROWTH. Waddles—"Miss Oldish is a 'bud,' you know." Cynicus—"Must be a flower of the century plant, then. "-Chicago Record. CERTAIN TO STAY AT HOME. "I—l hardly—How many lodges are you member of, Hiram?" "Not one, Katie; not one." "Well, yon may ask papa."—Chi cago Tribune. HIS REAL AMBITION. Quivers (significantly)--"I wish I were wedded only to my work." Mrs. Quivers —"That is to say, yon want a wife who'd support you,"— Chicago Record. HIS THEORY. "How slowly the train is moving now!" said a passenger. "Yes," replied another. "The bag gage master must have checked it."— Pittsburg Chronicle. THE IMPORTANT SEX. Sunday-school Superintendent "And who was Adam?" Small Girl (daughter of modern pro gressive woman) —"Ho was the hus band of Eve."—Life. APPROPRIATELY NAMED. "I wonder why it is railed 'the Height of fashion,' " said Mrs. Snaggs. "To correspond with the altitude of he cost, no doubt," replied her hus mnd. —Atlanta Constitution. AT A MINIMUM. The Heiress—"And are you sure, Arthur, that your love for me will □ever grow less?" Arthur (with suspicious promptness) "Absolutely certain, my dear."— Detroit Tribune. NEEDED A SIGN. Critic—"l tell you what it is, Mr. McDaub, those ostriches are simply superb. You shouldn't paint anything but birds." Artist (disgusted) "Those are not ostriches. They are angels!"— Life. A MAIDEN PHILOSOPHER. Elaine—"How do you manage to throw over your fiances and still keep them all friendly?" Gladys —"Tell 'em I respect them too highly to offer them a feeble love. Then they think they are too good for me."—Chicago Record. DEGENERATE SON OF NEW ENGLAND. "Beans, ma'am?" exclaimed the man at the kitchen door, aghast. "Beans! Why, ma'am, I've come more'n a thou sand miles to git away from 'em!" And the tourist from Boston went sadly away and tried the next house.— Chicago Tribune. AN ADDITION TO THE LANGUAGE. "Would you call Dexter a poet?" "No, air. He is a riminal." "A what?" "Riminal. That's a word of my own. If a man who commits crimes is a criminal, I don't see why a man who commits rhymes shouldn't be a riminal. "—Life. HIS HEAD IN THE RIGHT PLACE. "Mrs. Gardle says her husband has made a will in which he leaves her all his property." "H'm! Gardle hasn't a cent to his name." "I know it, John ; but it shows the right disposition, and that, after all, i 6 everything, you know."—Waif. OUT OF THE COMMON. Railroad Man (angrily)—"l have just found out that that cow we had to pay for had not given any milk for five years." Farmer Smartt—"Yaas; that's so." "It is, is it? Now, sir, what right had you to put such a high value on her? Tell me that." "Wall, yon see, I valued that cow aH a curiosity."—Life. A COUPLE OF EXPERTS, The talk had drifted to mental plie nomena, when suddenly the maiden shyly asked: "Are you a—a mind-reader, Hor ace?" "I am, Susie," he said. "So am I J" And she held out her finger for the ring. She had seen its bulging out lines in his vest pocket.—Chicago Tribune. SHE COULD TALK. Brown "That wife of yours is a woman of great accomplishments." .Toues—"Thanks. That's what every* body says, and I believe it myself." Brown—"Yes, and she's one of the finest talkers I ever heard. Why, 1 could listen to her for a year." Jones (with a sigh) —"So could I, but, think of it, I've been listening to her for ten years, and she is still in robust health."—Detroit Freo Press. SPOILED HIS CALCULATIONS. "Don't you like the room I gavo yon?" said the hotel clerk to the drum mer from Cincinnati. "Yes, the room's all right. What made you ask? Do 1 look worried?" "To be frank, you do." "Well, I am feeling rather uncom fortable. You see, I came over the S. L. O. Ar W. road." "Got in late, I suppose." "No, we got in on time, and now I have about two hours and a half on my hands that I don't know what to do with."—Washington Star. BROKE IT BY STAGES. An old"woman entered a downtown savings bank the other day and walked up to the desk. "Do yon want to draw or deposit?" asked the gentlemanly clerk. "Naw, I doant. Oi wants to put some in," was the reply. The clerk pushed up the book for her signature, and, indicating the place, said: "Sign on this line, please." "Above it or below it?" "Just above it." "Me whole name?" "Yes." "Before Oi was married?" "No, just as it is now." "Oi can't write."—Boston Tran script. WISE WORDS. Marriage is love's sacrifice. Slander is vaporized venom. A kiss is a song without words. Sunshine is the leaven of living. A torpid liver is twiu to despair. Speech is a deformity iu some peo pie. It is not the longest life that has the most in it. The man who doesn't want anything doesn't get it. A small mind usually has plenty of room for pride. We rarely find as much iu a dollar as we think there is. An ounce of realization is seldom worth a pound of hope. Good manners and good morals are sworn friends and fast allies. A rosebud of a girl sometimes turns out to bo a thorn of a woman. Pet vices are just as apt to bite and claw a fellow ns any other kind. Society, if good, iH a better refiner of the spirits than ordinary books. The man who uses all the credit ho can get will soon find himself without any. Some people nre so kind that their kindness frequently gets them into trouble. Love is never lost. If not recipro cated it will flow back and soften and purify the heart. A good wife never cracks a smile when her husband steps upon an inverted tack at midnight. Some men will get the upper hand of you even if they have to do it by underhand methods. The mortal who tries to win love without respect has generally to get along without either. A vigorous young man expends enough energy in one football game to saw a whole cord of stove wood. j A Peace. Argument of Military Science. The trite saying that a great war | can no longer be afforded is given greater significance than ever by the descriptions of the new field piece of the German army. This is pronounced the most terribly destructive engine of war ever produced, aud is a three inch gun which can be loaded and tired in one-third of the time required for the old gun, and with almost double the effect and precision. Explosive shell is the only projectile. This is charged with a new powder of secret composition that scatters thousands of splinters over a circle of 900 feet, whereas during the Franco-German war the pieces of bursting shell fell within a circle of forty or fifty paces and not more than seven or eight were wounded.—Trenton (N. J.) American. The "Man of Iron." "The Man ot Iron," otherwise "Giles the Wizard," was one of tho persons put to death during the witch craft persecution at Salem, Mass. His real name was Giles Corey, and at the tirao of his awful death he was an old man past eighty. When accused of being a "wizard" (which tho Salem lunatics seeni to have considered the masculine of "witch") ho calmly met their charges and coolly informed them that he would die rather than admit that ho hod ever had com munion with evil spirits. He was put to tho peine forte et dure (death by pressure with huge weights), hia fortitude during his dying momenta winning for him the title used in tho first line.—Chicago Herald, A WONDERFUL TIMEPIECE. MARVELS OF THE CLOCK IN STRASSBURO CATHEDRAL. Wound Up to Run From 1840 |. T ntU 9999 - Crowds Dally Walt Its Noonday Hour. FOR the third time the munic ipality of Btrassburg decided, in 1H36, that a new astro -6 nomical clock should be placed in the framework of the old one. A Strassburg watchmaker named Bchwil gue was entrusted with the undertak ing, and within four years he finished the unique mechanism which stands to-day the wonder and amusement of natives and visitors. Not only does this clock keep the time from day to day, but it runs from year to year without the intervention of any clock maker. Besides this, its face con tains a disk indicating all the variable holidays of the year, Easter, and so on. It regulates itself in the leap years. It gives the phases of the moon, the eclipses, the equinoxes, and the revolutions of all the planets of the solar system. The fineness of the structure can be understood when it is known that of the seven golden balls, of different si/c, representing the planets, the nearest to the sun, Mercury, takes eighty-eight days to make the circuit of its orbit, while Saturn only can complete its course in 1747 days, or nearly three years, says the Philadelphia Telegraph. The entire mechanism, its maker calculated, would run until the year 9999, if the brass and other metal of which it is built do not wear out in the meantime. This wonderful contriv ance is unfortunately in a dark place, where those who constantly wish to view it well are scarcely able to do so. Its site is a wing, which can be en tered through the Cathedral proper or a portal, which directly leads thither from outdoors. The time of greatest interest is at noon each day, though there are little performances at every quarter hour. At noon is the time the cock crows, and that is what every one wants to hear. The interest never Beems to wane. For au hour before 12 o'clock, day after day, a crowd gath ers in this corner, waiting for the ex hibition. This early arrival is partly in order to get a good place, and part ly because the clock keeps solar time, which now is a half hour behind ordi nary Strassburg time. Here are tour ists, soldiers, nuns, bridal couples, peasant women with baskets, boys with bundles, who have run in from the street to get another look at the thing. Now, it is only a half hour until the performance ; will the room hold any more ? The bead 1 eH, like the Htreet-car con ductor*, are sure there i plenty of room "up front," or rather, in this case, behind. They wave the wands of their majesty, and back the people surge. Still more aro coming. The natives, who never seem to tire of the sight, and who know better about the variance in the times, aro now drop ping in—mothers with babies, business men from around the corner, and j everybody else. There is not space to sneeze. Now there are only five min utes until the rooster crows. Maybe he will not crow to-day. Everybody s looking at the clock. Don't wink. Now comes the fateful minute. In the very centre of the big monument to the elockmaker's ingenuity is a | gallery. Here stands Father Time, ' representing Death. He has about him, on a revolving plane, four figures —Childhood, a boy; Youth, a young hunter; Manhood, a fully-armed ; knight; Old Age, a gray-haired man, ! clothed in the skin of a beast. Child hood had struck the first quarter-hour, Youth the second, Manhood the third and Old Ago the other hourH of the day; but now at noon it is Death's own chance. .The four figures come out in view before him, while, with a grim hammer of bone, he souudswith twelve strokes the death of another day. A little figure down near the face of the clock now has his turn, and, with a littlo shake reverses his hour glass. Above all this is another gallery. It begins to squeak. The machinery is in motion. In the middle is a figure of Christ, and around Him are to pass the twelve Apostles. Out they come, one by one. Each stops an instant before the Saviour, turns his face, bows, and receives the blessing from His outstretched hand. But the rooster ; where is he? There he still is, high up on a pedestal, besides a stained-glass window. Now he clucks. Now his old metal-plated throat swells. He tiaps his wings and crows. An other minute. Again he daps his wings and crows. And a third time. Was there ever such a rooster as this? It is all over. The beadles drive the people out, shut up the cathedral, aud go to dinner. The time of greatest interest comes but once a year, in the night from De cember 31 to New Year's Day. Then an immense crowd always assembles to watch the revolutions of the machinery as it regulates itself ready for the la bors of the coming year. — i Twentieth Century Agriculture. The belief is gaining ground that the model farm of the future will be an electric one. The necessary current can bo had by utilizing the wasted forces of nature—the waterfalls being sutiieieut in many places, wliilo in others windmills can be used in con nection with storage batteries. In ventors are undoubtedly capable of adapting electric machines to every kind of farm work. With well-made roads, electrically-lighted houses, and a well-planned equipment of electric machinery—including, possibly, elec tric carts aud carriages—the lot of the tiller of the soil will be greatly im proved.—Trenton (N. J.) American,
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers