VOI. LI 11.
WIHNirS WELCOME.
Well. Shamus, what brought ve ?
It"# 4*al. mm. I ye—
What '.- kept ye tin- fortnight from calling on
me ?
Stop there ! IVm tbo lyiu' ;
It no nee lien Tin",
1 know you've been fughin' for Kitty Mage*.
She's onld end ehe'e homely ;
There'# girl# young and oemely,
WhoVe loved yon much longer and better
then she ;
Bui. deed! • I'm not earin';
I'm a led Tve ne share in
The k*ve of e hoy who'd loved Kitty Mageo.
00 'way !' I'm not crying'!
Tom- charge I'm denym',
You're wrong to attribute snch weakness to me;
If teas* I'm ashowiQ*.
I'd have y he knovtua',
Tbey>e abet out of pity for Kitty Mageo.
For mane and ooneateL
Wid pnde overweighted ;
Ooid. beanies# and brutal she'll find you to le
When you ahe'U he get tin".
She'll soon be regrettm'.
She ere changed her name from p aiu Kittv
■—SI.
What'# that ? Am I dhrauun',
VoaVe only been echamin*.
J net tt.rrm' to u#t the affection in me ?
But you're the sly dml!
There now *. Plaee he civil !
IVmil hug me to death. I'm uot Kitty Mage*.
Tour ki#ee# oonfuse me—
Well. I'll net tvfnse ye,
1 know you':] be tindber and levin' w.d me ;
To rbow my oonthntiou
Far douhe# and #n#funon.
I'll ax for my bndesmei i swate Kitty Magee
One Summer s Harvest.
A sjitinr rb— a girl standing at the
famo-housr gate. Iwihtni in that sun's dying
glory: the deep blue ma, fringed by their
jftty lahhes. eager and erptvtant. the red
hps curving in a glad happy smile, as her
ear catches the far off echo of a well known
step; ami o*e reads again the old. old story
which arcnts no new to every heart that
teams its pages.
Ye* Elbe: Max-no was ikM one to wear
her hear; upon her sleeve; but neit her had
Ernest Mc!watd lived his thirty years in
vain A month before, fortified by a let- '
Ter of introduction to the squire, one of his
father"# college friends. who, since the
dr*Tii of his ruing wife. had buried himself j
In tins ctmn'.ry life, he had c.nie among I
thtan to retrain strength, to recover from a
weverr fever. whuac victim be had well
nigh Iteeome.
He had been received by Mr. Mayne
wt:h roorteou# hospitality. but when his
daughter was formally presented, when
first his eyes dwelt upon the wonderful
beauty, which had sprung into such perfee
bor far fran the city's din. all thoughts of
fNN and country dullness fled.
S the days went on, orarcv ni*ted by the
mac of the world. watching this new yet
aid development <tf a girls hi art; to her,
I awing with the swiftness of thought, in
iwoemng t the mektdy of one voice, and
drinking in the dangerous sweetness of his
cmiks.
Ah the old story indeed!
Why should he nod pluck this little vio
ted. which had shed its rich perfume at
his fee*, as well as the priceless exotic
which, when the haves had turned to •
Irwji. he was to cull for his own?
Sr> a subtle sweetness crept into his tone
his dark eyes grew strangely soft, as draw- I
ing near, be clasped the tiny hand laid so
rnnfidingly in his own. and looked into tliv
arurc-TiU'Cd eyi* upraised to his.
"Were xvu waiting for me Etliel!"
"Ah. Erne®, the days are long without
you!"
"What will you do when I have gone?* 1 j
•"Gome!" And the color died out of '
eboek and lips, lea vine an asliv paleness as
she said, with a faint smile. "You are play
mc with me Ernest. You would not
leave me?*'
**BusiTKs compels it darling; but I shall I
caary your sweet beauty with me. where- j
ever I may go."
"But you are coming back? You are
act going for long?"
"1 trust no."
And for a moment the girl's peerless
beauty made the man waver in his alle
giance to the haughty summons received
the: dav frnun his betrothed.
Had he known this girl beside him was
the owner of as many thousands as the
toetre* whose band he considered essential
to the furthering of his irther schemes, the ;
summer harrest would have born different
fruit.
In no measured words had he asked
Ethel Mayne to he his wife; but in her
young trusting innocence, when from lier
lip# be had snatched tbeir first sweetness,
while her ears caurhi his vows of love, in
the singular fascination of his presence and 1
tho keen snKicty of his words, slie had no
other tbcaight, and she now looked in his
face with a wondering hesitancy, while a
hand of iron seemed clutching at her
heart.
♦•You trust not! What do vou mean.
Erwest?" and there vt a hatigtity ring in
the tone new to the man's ear—new to her
self, but horn of b<T suffering. "Are you
oi ng back to forget me? If so I can bear
it,"
"Fotgot you. darling! Forget the little
violet whose witching sweetness has lent
my summer all its charm? No, no! Trust j
me. little one. I will of course come liack
Iytt me see the color in your cheek again.
110 not make my going harder, by this sad
face or our last evening. You will write
to me?"
"Yes; your letters are all I have to live
upon—all tw promise I shall know of the
future. Ernest. I fear that gay world to
which you return; but why should I fear,
and vou so brave, so tru"?"
••Fear nothing darling, and, Iwlieve me,
whatever cornea, there is naught on earth
I have ewer loved so well. 7 "
And. for once in his false life the man
spoke the trurh^
Three months sped by—months which to
Ethel Mayne had seemed t ears. The
promised letters had been strangely colli,
breathing nothing of that promise to return
til! expectancy died away, and when with
a strange prescience of future ill, she in
her woman's pride sent no reply, there
came one more Aider, more pressing, she
awted the false ring in it# pages, and was
orient.
Bus her country life seemed dull and
aiuikwa, and tbc squire 4ing her pale
Me MWem Aimrnul.
pale chock, gladly consented to break
through the retirement of so many years,
and once again seek the gay world he hail
renounced.
A month later and Ethel May tic's loveli
ness had taken society by storm. To no
wish had her doting father said, and in the
beautiful home lie had provided for her,
with all the wonderful accessories of toilet
he had given her with lavish hand, she
•hone forth peerless.
Save to her father, for whom the wears
her old radical suiile, the girl is an enigma
to all—even herself—and she wonders at
the icy coldness which has frozen round her
heart, causing an indifference to all things.
Yel coldness gives way to burning heat, a
lical which seems to scorch the very heart
blood and spurge upward in a mad tumult,
then recede; leaving her well nigh turned to
stone, as her eye rests upon a paragraph in
tha /Wf, which confirms lier most reckless
fears —
"We hear that Miss Annie Anstay,
daughter of L. D. Anstay, Esq., is shortly
to le led to the altar by Mr. Ernest Mel
wood."
This was all, yet enough. He had called
several times since she had cotno to the
city, but she had invariably refused to see
him.
A rumor of this had reached her—a ru
mor now confirmed —but which had told
her that the engagement hail existed even
in halcyon days he had caused her heart's
awakening.
She had served to pass away the time
then. This was all, and what to her had
been the coloring of the rainbow, was in
his eyes but painted tints, to bo washed
out by her tears.
Tears! Should shr ever weep again?
Would such a heaven—such mercy be giv
en to cool those burning lids? Or, should
one scalding drop force its way upward,
was he worth its falling? No—a thousand
times no.'
And a scornful smile played room! the
beautiful mouth, as drawing her escritoire
toward her, she put into execution a sud
den determination, and penned the follow
ing lines:
"My IVar Mr. Melwood:—l was very
; sorry to have Ihkmi so engaged when you
last called, that 1 was obliged to deny my
self the pleasure of meeting you. This
evening I shall be at home and alone, and
if you have no other engagement, I shall
hope to see you. Yours,
"Etiiki. Mayne."
The look of astonishment which over
spread Ernest Mel wood's handsome face
grew into a triumphant siuiie as lie refold
ed the dainty note, with the crest lie had
instantly recognized upon the seal placing
it carefully within an inner iocket and
registering the determi: ation to break all
•tber engagements and renew his summer's
pleadiiw.
Thevwoman he was to marry had never
found her way into thoee depths that Ethel
Maine's blue eyes had penetrated, for, as
he could love he had loved her.
He little thought that in her young beau
ty and loving woman's nature, slie could
have offered him a far richer dower than
that for which he bartered his manhood and
his noble letter self.
Her heiress-ship had been all unknown
to him, until lately nmiors of her father's
wealth had reached him—rumors which
their luxurious lavish style of living proved
truth—and as he ascended the steps of their
elegant mansion, at the appointed time, lie
bit his lip in inward rage, while an unac
knowledged resolve came into his heart
that it should not yet be too late.
Never, never was Ethel Mayne as rav
ishingly, as dangerously lovely as when she
entered her father's drawing rooms that
night to greet her recreant lover.
Was this, indeed, the girl, he asked him
self. from whom he had parted scarce six
months ago; who, with an air of quiet self
possession, almost liautiness, touched and
dropped his outstretched hand, as she sank
into n fautcuil. with all her old wonderful
grace, saying:
"This is almost an unexpected pleasure,
Mr. Melwood, as I hardly hoped the pres
sure of your engagements would pefmit a
personal answer to my summons. In fact,
I sea rely know why 1 sent for you, save that
I was alone this cveniug anil having some
what a dread of ennui, thought, perhaps,
you would break its potent spell."
"Your request Miss Maybe, was more
potent than another's command. Indeed,
had my engagements been far more press
ing, you would still have seen me here."
"Ah, engagements are made but to be
broken! Is it not so? If one suffers the
other goes unscathed, and I do not much
believe in suffering as the world is to-day.
If we cry even for the moon, somebody
will be good enough to get us an art ificial
one, which does just as well as the real
thing ncw-a-days."
"Perhaps if one must deal in generalities,
but, to those who have lived in the light
and Bweetni*s of a young moon on a sum
mers night, I hardly think artificial means
would lie the same,"
"Perhaps not, if one is young oneself,
with faith untarnished in a future. But
after all, I prefer gaslight, for though pos
sessing less romance, it is not troubled at
inauspicious times with dark clouds cross
ing its surface, leaving you suddenly in
utter darkness. By-the-way, Mr. Melwood
may I congratulate you?"
"Upon what, Miss Mayne?"
But the man's face paled and his voice
trembled as he asked the question.
"Upon what? Certainly a congratula
tion to a man a few weeks previous to his
marriage may pass unchallenged, And
when society is to lose so shining a light as
Mr. Melwood, it surety may congratulate
him upon his gain, even though it prove its
loss!"
Bitter-sweet, icely-cutting, was every
word as it fell from the girl's lips; and they
stung the man before her, even through the
coat of mail in which lie wrapped himself
—stung and drove him to madness, while
her wonderful lieauty awakened in him the
old passion in irrcsistable force.
"Hush, Ethel! For heaven's sake, hush!
Not from your lips can I hear these idle
words. Oh, darling, if you have forgotten
I have not, and memory has proved the
one drop of water to quench my burning
thirst. Iu the purgatory my life has been
since those golden summer nights, some
times in my dreams, I have seen the love
light in your eye, or felt the touch of your
hand fall like velvet on my arm, have
heard your voice filling my room with
music, 'have even touched your pure red
lips with my unworthy ones; until on
waking to my desolation, I have wished
that I were dead. Better the grave in its
loneliness than deatli in this life!"
There was no acting here, and hot tears
stood iu his eyes as he lifted t hetu to her
MILLIIEIM, PA., THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 27, J879.
face, but a great scorn was in her voice as
she repiied—
"Miss Anstay would probably prefer
your rehearsal of any part with herself as
an audience."
"Ethel in those days gone by you loved
me. Do not deny it. Your lips hail not
then learned to hide the impulses of yout
heart, your eyes could not lie; and I—oh,
my darling, in thought of the chains that
bound me even then—have struggled in
such inqxitenco that the angels might have
pitied me. Base, unworthy as 1 am, I
speak the truth now. Why—why did 1
ever meet you, only to hnye you spurn me
thus? Ethel, it is not yet too late. For
give the past anil be my wife."
"Your wife—yours? Sooner would I
lay down my life. Yes, I loved you once
—why should I deny it? —loved you with u
love that thought darkness light when you
shared it; loved you as now I loathe you.
Go, in your falsehood, with your perjured
lips, back to the girl who lias one so raro a
prize in life's lottery, and tell her of the
amusement you found in a country sojourn
—ho less a plaything than a woman's heart
—tell h r your hand converted innocence
into knowledge, joy into wretchedness,
light into darkness, a girl into a woman.
Then bid her lay her head U|xm your breast
press uj>on her lipsth" kisses you can yield
so well, and ask her if she is not proud of
such a pri7.e. Let her bind you closer in
her chains of gold. You thought mine
only of perishable flowers; but had you
trusted them I would have made them of
precious stones. Forgive you? For what?
For opening my eyes to man's treachery
and worldly lust? For showing mo the in
carnate baseness which can bo veiled in the
glory of the image of his maker? Yes, I
forgive you even as 1 scorn you. Go in
peace!"
The June roses were once in bloom, as
Ethel Mayne stood before God's altar by
Philip Vaugh's side and took upon herself
the solemn vow to love, honor and obey.
Nor was the man to whom she pledged
herself unworthy of such a gift, lie it was
who had thawed the frozen channels to her
heart, and had taught her once again the !
faith amt trust without which woman's life
is blighted.
The sun had hid himself for a brief
while, and now shed forth resplendently
upon the rose bordered path h"r feet so
gladly trod. So as they turned from the
sacred place, and the organ breathed forth j
its jubilee, it was echoed and reechoed in
both their hearts.
But only a short distance from this scene
of rejoicing, amid the great city's din, a
pistol-shot rang out upon the clear morning ;
air. A bullet, sent by bis own band, found
its way into the heart of the man who had
learned too late the possession of that heart j
and found ho had rendered his own lifeuu
cndurablc.
Yet, when Ethel Vaughn learned the !
sad truth leaning upon her husband's I
breast, she felt naught save a great pity,
and a pure prayer rose from her own grate
ful heart for the soul's happiness of the man
whose requiem her wedding chimes had
rung.
Jniiant'ifl Carpenter#.
Japanese carpenters—a numlier of whom
have been exhibiting their skill in fitting up j
the stage of a San Francisco theater for a
company of gymnasts from Yeildo—have 1
an advantage over American mechanics, in
the fact that they have four hands instead :
of two, their toes being as handy as their j
fingers, but they gatn nothing by it, because
they make no use of work-benches or vises. t
If a Japanese carpenter wants to sharpen a .
saw, he squats down, places the back of the
tool to be operated upon on tire ground,
grips one end of the saw with his left hand,
seizes the other witn the toes of of his right
foot, and goes to work with as much confi
dence as an American carpenter at a bench.
Their tools are not like American tools;
though they have a small similarity, show
ing that all tools have a common parentage,
whether their inventor was Tubal Cain or j
some other artificer. All Japanese saws are
shaped like butcher's cleavers. The handle I
of a cleaver, but tlattish, us if whittled out :
of a piece of inch board; the metal shank
of the saw is driven into tl at of the handle
and the whole is secured by being wrapped
with a fine split cane. The metal of the
saw is about the substance of our saws, but
the toeth are narrower, giving more of them
to an inch, and much longer. They are all
pointed toward the handle and cut the wood
like so many hooks. When a Japanese
wants to rip a plank, he places it across
anything that will elevate the end a few
inches, then stands on the wood and cuts it
by seizing the cleaver-looking saw and pul
ling it toward bim. Thus, by a number of
short, quick up strokes, he gets through a
plank not so speedily, but quite as effectal
ly as an American carpenter would with the
long, low-down strokes of the rip-saw. The
planes are small, with single irons, and no
handles. The planes aro shorter, lighter,
and the wood shallower than ours, being
generally not more than an inch deep. To
plane a piece of wood they lay it on the
ground, squat down, hold it fast with their
toes, and work the piano with lioth hands
toward them. To drill a hole they have a
short awl inserted in the end of a round
stick eight or nine inches long. They take
the wood between their toes, squat as before,
and make the hole by rubbing the handle
of the awl between their hands, in less time
than one of our oarpenters could drill one
with n gimlet. Their hammers are solid
cylindrical pieces, not made shapely with
waists and graceful outlines like ours. They
have the same flat-sided handles as the
saws. The Japs have iron square*., not un
like American squares, marked with de
grees. The measures are brass, eyry light,
and fluted. On one side the inch, or what
stands for an inch with us, is one and three
sixteenths inches, and divided into ten
parts. On the other side is a different scale,
measuring one and thirtcon-sixteenths
inches, and divided into twelve parts.
What Generosity Would Have Cost Illiti.
A man in Pennsylvania noted for his
generosity lately had #IOO,OOO loft him as
a legacy. Beggars of all manner of causes,
good, bad and indifferent, flocked upon
him so fast that lie adopted the plan of
stating to each the amount of his legacy,
and the fact that lie had hosts of applica
tions and the inquiry, in view of all this,
how much he ought to be expected to give
the applicant, The amounts then applied
for he noted down and promised an answer
in six months from the time he got his
legacy. At the end of that period lie added
up the amounts applied for and found the
sum total thereof was $700,006.
The Sugar Ituwi.
Upon each of the tables ranging along
the walls in Hunt's dining-room there sits a
sugnr-lxiwl. It is placed ujion tho end of
the table remotest from the wall, and when
a waiter takes an order ho shoves the howl
across the table to the other anil. This sig
nifies that a customer occupping a seat at
that particular table has given his order,
ami by this simple plan the other waiters
are kept informed as to who is waited upon
and wiio is not. One day an honest farmer,
who was innocent of the tricks of city
restaurants, entered tho place, took a seat,
amt, pulling the sugar-bowl on his tabic
back toward tho wall, proceeded to help
himself to a pinch, lie was not noticed by
any of the busy waiters who were hurrying
hack ami forth filling orders and clearing
away dishes. The old fellow remained in
his seat for fifteen minutes, patiently ex
pecting some one to offer to take his order;
but, no one appearing to see him, he got
mad at tho apparent neglect ami tried to
hail three or four passing waiters, who
failed to grasp the situation. After half a
dozen slights, as he thought, the honest
farmer stretched forth his mighty paw ami
gathered a waiter by the nape of the neck.
Squarely imprisoning the startled hash col
lector, the yeoman addressed him thus.
"See hyar, young feller, you ncednt
think cos 1 don't put on style and wear
store clothes when I come to town, that
1 ain't just as able to pay fur what chuck I
eat as any dressed-up galoot in thisoountry.
Why, I'll buy yer durned aid shop and
burn it down. Now I want you to fetch
me s great big four-cornered meal—the best
in the place, and lots of it, ily'e hear me ?"
The young man, as soon as released,
started to till the commission of the mus
cular Granger, ami the customer took his
seat once more, but this time further away
from the wall. Reaching back ho pulled
the sugar-bowl to the outer end of the
table and dug out another handful to stay
his hunger until the big meal should arrive.
The sugar-bowl was now on the end of the
table which signified that the old fanner
was not waited u|x>n, and in an instant a
young follow stepped up to him and asked
what he would have.
"I sent a feller after my grub," replied
the man from the country.
The waiter pushed the sugar-l>owl to the
rear and walked off. The farmer again
pulled the bowl out and went to exploring it.
Another waiter, spying the bowl on the
outer end of tho table, tackled the rural
rooster, who impatiently answered that he
had no use for him. This waiter gently
propelled the sugar-bow' to the wall, and
bounced away about his business. By this
time the countryman was thoroughly
aroused. Taking hold of the offending
bowl lie savagely drew it to the front, but
bud no sooner done so tlian be was ap
proachcil by a youth wearing an apron,
who carried him a bill of fare, and stood
waiting for instructions. "Goto the devil!"
blustered the fanner. "You're almighty,
all-fired willin' to get me something to eat
since you found out that 1 ain't a beggar.
One feller is enough to git what 1 want,
and he's done gone for it."
The waiter took hold of the sugar-bowl
to place it where it belonged once more,
but the farmer wouldn't have it.
Fetching the young man a stroke across
the jaw, he sang out:
"Let that ere thing alone, dog-gone you!
Yer fearful 'fraid that I'll eat a half cent's
worth of yer blasted old sugar. I'll pay for
all the stuff I swallcr in this shebang, anil
I don't want nobody coniin' around me
shoving dishes outen my reach. Now you
just clare out 'o hyar."
By this time the Iniys tumbled to the old
man's innocence, and allowed him to munch
his sugar in peace until his dinner arrived.
Extraordinary reople.
Commander Cameron of the British Navy,
recently gave the following description of
the manners and customs of the people of
Urua, in Central Africa. Urua was one
of the largest native states in Africa. It
was bounded on the east by Tanganyika,
on the north by independent tribes in Man
gucma, on the west by Ulunda, and on tho
south by mountains south of the lake of
Bangcolo. The great chief was Kasongo,
and the race was perhaps the most civilized
in Central Africa. The chief claimed Di
vine honors. On his death all his wives
save one were slaughtered at his grave, and
the one whose life was not taken was bund
ed over to the chief's successor. The
spirit of the deceased prince was supposed
to pass into the body of the successor. The
centre of the religion of the people was an
idol, which was held in great reverence.
The idol was placed in the midst of a dense
jungle, and it had for wife one of the sisters
of the reigning soverign. Under the prin
cipal chief were smaller chiefs, whocollected
and paid over to the sovereign tribute. Ho
had seen this tribute come iu, and some of
it must have come from distant parts of the
country. There was a numerous class of
wizards in the country who did a large
trade in idols and charms. Many of the
wizards were ventriloquists, and in this way
the idols were made to give answors to the
questions put to them. Caste was very
clearly defined in the race. No one dare
sit down in the presence of the chief with
out permission, which was very seldom
granted. In one place where, in the trav
eler's presence, a native had neglected eti
quette, severe punishment was about to be
inflicted, but the traveler saved the offen
der. Authority was maintained by mutil
ation. Hands, feet, ears and noses were
mutilated, and the natives did not seem to
mind it much. One woman had cut off
her own cars. This woman was one of
Kasongo's wives; lie had about a thousand
of t hem. Slie asked permission to mutilate
herself, and she did it at once. The body
guard of the chief was composed to a great
extent of mutilated people, whose affection
for the chief seemed in no way decreased;
indeed, it would appear that mutilation
strengthened their regard for the chief.
Tbc name of the idol was Kungwca Banza,
and profound reverence was shown to it.
Fire was obtained by friction from a fire
block, and in one case the chief used the
shin-bone of one of the other chiefs who
had been conquered. The dress of the
people was very simple consisting of an
apron. Members of the royal family wore
three large skins, and junior members of
the family wore aprons of green monkey
skins. The hair dressing of these people
was curious, varying more with districts
than with rank. In some places it was
worked up into four ring plates crossed at
the top of the head like a crown, and sur
rounded at the bottom with a band of cow
ries or other shells. Skewers were inserted
in the hair, one end of which could be used
in tatooing. The people were not a hairy
race, but manage to grow their beards
long, and plaited them like a Chinaman's
pigtail, usually putting at the end of each
a lump of mud to weigh it. Some of
the beards reached to the waists. The wo
men, not having beards to amuse themselves
with, were tattooed extensively. Tattooing
usually commenced at the ago of seven,
and might be completed about the age of
twelve or fourteen, which was the time for
marriage. Beautiful patterns were used,
and the tatooing done in raised cuts. Some
times a husband, when he was displeased
with his wife, cut off all these raised pieces,
and the woman could not appear in public
again; slie was not received in society un
til she was re-tattooed. Ho saw one of
their weddings, which was very curious.
The proceedings lasted several days. A
ring was formed of the natives, two men
with big drums being in the middle. The
drums were played and the people round
danced. The bride was brought out, dres
sed in feathers and other finery, on the
shoulders of two or three women ; she was
taken in the middle of tho ring, and was
jumped up ami down on the shoulders of
the women. Tho bride threw shells and
beads aliout, for which there was a scram
ble, as the possession of them was supposed
to confer luck. Ultimately the husband
came into the ring, and putting the bride
under his arm, carried her off. The means
of communication was by drum signals.
They had a call on tho drum for every
body's name, and they could ask questions
and convey intelligence over hundreds of
miles, ami receive answers almost immedi
ately. In war, messages were sent enor
mous distances to bring up reinforcements
or to stop their coming. The mass of the
jieople live in huts on dry land, but there
were one or two exceptions to this. He
saw two lakes on which people were living
in huts. In one place the people had cov
ered over the long grass growing in the
water with earth, ami on that hail built
their huts; in the other the huts were built
on piles. The language of the country
belonged to the same broad family which
stretched across lhc large licit of Africa
traversed by him, and the grammar was
on the same principles as the grammar of
the Swaeli.
Health Hint#.
Never go to bed with colli, (lamp feet;
always toast them before a fire for tea or
fifteen minutes before going to bed.
When going from a warm atmosphere to
a colder one, keep the mouth closed, so
that the air may be warmed by its passage
through the nose, ere it reaches the lungs.
Never stand still in cold weather, espe
cially after having taken n slight degree of
exercise; and always avoid standing upon
the ice or snow, or where the person is ex
posed to a cold wind.
Never take warm drinks ami then imme
diately go out in the cold air.
Merely warm the hack by a fire, and
never continue keeping the back exposed
to the heat after it bus become comfortably
warm ; to do otherwise is debilitating.
When hoarse, speak as little as possible
until it is recovered from, else the voice
may l>e permanently lost, or difficulties of
the throat may be produced.
Never begin a journsy until breakfast
has been eaten.
Keep the back, especially between the
shoulder blades, well covered; also the
chest well protected.
Never lean the back upon anything that
is cold.
Never omit regular bathing; for unless
the skin is in an active condition tho cold
will close the pores and favor conjestiou or
other diseases.
Some of the most valuable constituents
of the wheat are left in the bran, aud the
fine flour is not sufficiently laxative to meet
the requirements of most systems, so it is
advisable to take frequently or systematic
ally a coarser dies. Graham, cracked wheat
or r}-e will generally meet this wut, or a
fair supply of berries or fruits will answer
a similar purpose. Proper attention to the
diet will generally obviate the necessity of
a resort to physic, anil is by far the prefer
able course in every aspect of the case.
To cure corns, take one measure of coal
or gas tar, one of saltpeter and one of
brown sugar; mix well. Take a piece of
au old kid glove and spread a plaster on it
the size of the corn and apply to the part
affected; hind on and leavw two or throe
days aud then remove, and the corn will
come with it.
Sailing the Jewel),
The Plantagenets were very rough and
ready financiers. When Richard 1. took it
into his head to try conclusions with Pala
din, he raised the needful by turning the
crown manors and fortresses of Roxburg
and Berwick into hard cash, selling offices
of trust to the best bidders, and did not
hesitate to avow that he would dispose of
London itself if a purchaser were forth
coming. Strangely enough, Coeur de Lion
never seems to have thought of doing the
same by his crown jewels. Ilenry HI. was
the first English monarch who had recourse
to that undignified expedient. The idea,
indeed, did not originate with him; for it
is recorded that when some jicrson or per
sons unknown suggested that tho repleni
shing of the royal coffers by selling the
crown plate and jewelry, the king hinted a
doubt as to the likelihood of finding pur
chasers, and lieing assurreil that the citizens
of London would gladly accommodate him,
Ilenry exclaimed: "On my word, if tho
treasury of Augustus were brought to
sale, the citizens are able to bo the purchasers.
The clowns, who assume to themselves the
uanies of Barons, abound in everything,
while we aro reduced to necessities."
Notwithstanding his indignation, Ilenry,
like other men in his predicament, was
willing enough to deal with the full pursed
ones he abused, and so, in 1248, he sold
the citizens of London all the plate and
jewelry lie had not already mortgaged to
the merchants of Franco. The relief affor
ded was, however, only a temporary one,
for seven years later, we find him demand
ing 8,000 marks of the Jews, and answering
their remonstrance against the reaction by
pleading he was a beggar, spoiled and strip
ped of all his a farthing
wherewith to keep himself, and therefore
must have moucy om any hand and by
any means.
The life of every man is as the well
spring of a stream, whose small begin
nings are indeed plain toall, but whose
course and destination, as it winds
through the expanses ot infinite years,
only the Omniscient can discern.
llave you known how to compose
your manners ? You have done a great
deal more than lie who has composed
books. Have you known how to take
repose? Y r ou have done more than he
who has taken cities and empire.
A Phenonienou in Niagara Hirer.
Niagara river lias this season offered some
fu3 opportunities for the study of themain
te lance of the equilibrium of animal life
on both land and water. Early spring was
marked by an unprecedented migration of
minnows from Lake Erie into the Niagara
rivor. They arrived by millions, and
formed here and there almost solid banks
of moving fish. The shores of soma little
creeks like those of Frenchman's creek,
emptying from tho Canada shore into the
Niagara, were actually strewn with eount
lesa numbers of dead minnows, which had
been suffocated for want of oxygen in these
narrow channels. The advent of the min
nows attracted in turn, as might naturally
he expected, a proportionately sized swarm
of their destroyers, in shape of the different
species of pike, muscalonge and black bass.
The latter could be seen lying quietly in
solid column along the bottoms near the
shores, where the water was sufficiently
shallow and transparent to permit a full
view of them. Fishermen were perplexed
and in despair, since they would take bait
of no kind, no matter how temptingly dis
played. Their stomachs wero fairly gorged
with minnows, which could bo captured
without any effort whatever.
Later on, when the main bulk of minnows
disappeared without lieingfollowed by their
enemies, the tables were turned, and bass
fishing never has been known'to be as tine
as it was toward tho latter end of the sum
aser. Though the river is no longer stocked
with minnows as it was in tho spring, the
present amount probably still exceeds that
of any previous year, and has attracted later
on anetlier host of their natural enemies,
tho winged toilers of the sea. Never before
has the surface of the green Niagara exhib
ited such an animated display of glistening
white flocks of gulls and terns us in tho
present months. I'hey have assembled by
thousands, and luxuriate in immense abund
ance on their natural prey. Among them
are some species never before observed
here in any uotable quantity, or even single
specimens. We enumerate the Kittiwukc
gull, liesidcs three species of terns, two of
which are determinable as the black and
common tern, while the other is dubious on
account of its immature plumage. They
are congregated in large and separate flocks
and though occasionally hovering high over
the river, may easily lie decoyed to come
near the surface by throwing upon it some
white bunches of cotton or paper. A good
breech-loader will then make considerable
havoc among them, as they generally re
main quite a long time near any spot where
one or more of their shot comrades float up
on tho water. It is verv easy to see how
black bass and the various species of gulls
anil terns should lie found in such great num
bers, where there is an unusual abundance
of their natural food; but a more minute
knowledge, through close observation and
examination, is needed to determine tho
reasons for the unsurpassed spring migration
of the minnows. The solution trf the prob
lem probably hings also upon their peculiar
microscopic food, whicn may have been af
fected by changed conditions of the ordin
arily temperature of the water, or other
similar influences of a physical nature.
How to Ride a Rleycle.
Where practicable, it is advisable to learn
on a small wooden machine, on which the
rider can teach himself, after wliich he has
only to learn the mounting and dismount
ing, as any good velocii>ede rider can ride
a bicycle the first time he tries. In case a
velocipede cannot be obtained, then the as
sistance of a friend will be required to hold
the bicycle up until you are able to ride
alone. If you experience a tendency to
fall, do not fail to turn the wheel gently
and without the slightest jerk, in the direc
tion the bicycle is falling. This is the
whole secret of bicycle rilling, and cannot
be too attentively observed. The ball of the
foot should be placed upon tho treadle, and
not the instep as in riding the velocipede.
I a order to mount, take the machine by
both handles, place the left toe on the step,
take two or three short leaps to get a little
headway, raise yourself upon the step, and
slide easily into the saddle, but be sure not
to jump; it is well to practice riding on the
step until you cau do it with case, before
attempting to slide into the saddle. Also,
do not try to place your foot upon the treadle
before fairly getting into the seat. There are
several ways of dismounting, the most com
mon being to throw the right leg over tho
backbone and vault off on the left side.
When doing this, great care should be taken
not to lean forward over the handles. In
order to dismount by the step, the left toe
should be accustomed to seek the step and
find it with ease, when the rider can drop
lightly to the ground on the left side, at the
same time keeping hold of the handles. It
is quite impossible to say how long this
state of pupilage will last. No two riders,
on comparing notes, ever find t ex
periences coincide. We can only say that
bicycling is not very difficult, and that suc
cess is within easy reach of all who per
severe, a few hours being generally enough
to learn each successive stage on the way to
complete mastery over the machine. Tho
art of riding the bicycle once learned, the
bicyclist is more independent than the
owner of a horse, for he can then accomp
lish distances which a horseman never
thinks of attempting. Tho healthiness of
the exercise has never been questioned; the
difficulties of learniug arc not so great as
horse-riding, skating or swimming, and the
acquisition places a man of ordinary strength
in a position superior to tho equestrian, in
asmuch as he has his motive power contain
ed within himself, and that power is aug
mented as well as economized by the Im
proved mechanism of the biccylc of to-day.
Poisonou* Colors.
Energetic steps are being taken in Switz
erland against tho use of poisonous
colors. The governing council of Zurich
has prohibited the use cf all coloring mat
ters prepared from the compound of the
metals lead, arsenic, copper, chrome, zinc,
antimony, bismuth and mercury, for decor
ating articles of consumption, or of cloth
ing, or materials ; also paper for wrapping
up chocolate, coffee, tea, chiory, tobacco
aud eatables in general; toys; covers and
cushions of children's carriages, carpets,
curtaius and window blinds, lamp-screens,
wafers and table services. Poisonous orga
nic masters, such as gamboge, pifiric acid,
the aniline colors, especially magenta, are
not to bo used for coloring articles of food
or drink, such as confectionery, jams,
syrups, wines, etc. The rule applies to tiie
phenol colors. Imported articles containing
poisons may not be sold.
As the body is purified by water, so
is the soul purified by truth,
FOOD FOR THOUGHT.;
Low iiH the grave is, only faith can
climb high enough to Bee beyond it.
Women aro extreme in all poir.ts.
They are better or worse than men.
Great souls hold firmly to heaven aud
let the earth roll on beneath them.
Peace Ib such a paecious jewel, that
I would give anything for it but truth.
Act well at the moment, and you have
performed a good deed to all eternity. #
Where one is fagged, hungry, and de
pressed, the worst seems most probable.
Death is the funeral of all sorrows
atid evils, and the resurrection tMf all.
joys-
Nothing is further from the earth
than heaven; nothing is nearer than
heaven to earth.
The great problem of life is fer each
man to do his share of the world's
work and keep well.
He who has created its with a thirst
after the knowledge of Ilim will cer
tainly satisfy that thirst.
Never promise anything unless you
are quite s\ire you can give what you
say.
Certain sermons are more calculated
to weaken faith than to render men be
lievers.
Only what we have wrought into
our characters during life can we take
away with us.
There is no right faith In believing
what Is true unless we beiievo it because
ft is true.
Venture not to the utmost bounds of
even lawful pleasures; the limits if
good and evil join.
If you wish to have a good house to
live in when you are old, you must lay
a briek every day.
No one can over-estimate his own
weakness, or the dangers to which ho
is continually exposed.
Evil, is like a rolling-stone upon a
mountain top. A child may first im
pel—a giant cannpt stop.
What other dungeon is so dark as
one's heart? What other jailor so in*
exorable as one's self.
Every good and holy desire, though
it may lack the form, hath, In itself, the
substance and force of a prayer.
We do nor believe immortality be
cause we have proved it, but we forever
trv to prove it because we believe it.
If a man has transgressed one law,
and speaks lies, and scolfs at another
world, there is 110 evil he will not do.
• The direct and proper act of faith is
bf perpetual use and necessity, aud then
most when there is least of assurance.
To do for man what he can do for
himself were not wise—uot good for
man's growth either in knowledge or
virtue.
Keep the head cool by temperance In
all things, and the feet warm by actual
exercise in the discbarge of important
duties—deeds of kindness.
A philosopher never deems any man
beneath his notice, lor there is no mind
that cannot furnish some scraps of in
tellectual entertainment.
Gentleness which belongs to virtue
is to be carelully distinguished from
the mean spirits of cowards and the
fawning assent of sycophants.
The angel who ministers to a dying
beggar may hold himself as highly
honored as he who keeps the gate of
heaven.
Internal conflicts are the heritage of
superiority, it is so easy for sinall
headed stupidity to take no thought for
for the morrow.
A man whe has a fixed purpose to
which he devotes his powers, Is iuvul
nerable. Like the rock in the sea it
splits tiie troubles of life, and they
eddy round him in idle foam.
There is much greatness of mind in
the owning of a good turn as iu the do
ing of it; and we must no more force
a requital out of season, than be waul
ing in it.
l'ride is seldom delicate; it will please
itself with very mean advantages; and
e-ivy feels not its ow"n happiness, but
when it may be compared with the
misery of others.
—The liberty of using harmless
pleasures will be disputed; but it is
still to be examined what pleasures are
harmless. The evil of any pleasure is
not in the act itself, but In Its conse
quences.
The beginning of hardship is like the
lirst taste of bitter food; it seems for a
moment unbearable, yet if there is
nothing else to satisfy our hunger we
take another bite and find it possible to
go on.
Whatever conies out of despair can
not bear the title of valor, which ahouid
be lifted up to such a height that, hold
ing all things under itself, it should be
able to maintain its greatness even in
the midst of miseries.
There is no despair so absolute as
that which comes in the first moments
of our first great sorrow—when we have
not yet known what It is to have stiller
ed and be healed, to have despaired and
have recovered hope.
A religious life is not a thing tiiat
spends itself like a bright bubble on the
river's surface. It is rather like the
river itself, which widens continually,
and is never so broad or deep as where
it rolls into the ocean of eternity.
The smallest motion is of importance
in nature. The whole substance of
the sea moves when we throw in a peb
ble. 80 111 the life of grace, the most
trifling action has a bearing in its con
sequence upon the whole. Everything
then is important.
The truth is precious as it is divine.
The truth is precious, because nothing
else is so near man's present and future
welfare. There is not a sin, crime or
bad thing in the world, but, sweep
away the dust of the earth around it, it
stands upon a lie, and falsehood is the
foundation of all evil.
The more quiet and peaceably we get
on, the better —the better for ourselves,
the better for our neighbors. In nine
cases out of ten, the wisest course is—
if a man cheats you, to cease dealing
with him; if he is abusive, quit his
company; it he slanders you, take care
to live so that nobody will believe him.
Fear and timidity restrain our ap
proach toward him whom fortune has
elevated above us. All who are ac
quainted witli the workings of tlio
heart will allow that equal friendship*
are the warmest and most lasting.
Those who%re linked together by I hen
interests are friends no longer than
prosperity lasts,
NO. 47.