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" MILLHEIM JOURNAL."
If men eared loss for wealth and fame,
And less lor battlefield and pjlory;
If writ in hunmn hearts a name
Seems better than a song and story;
If men, instead of nursing Pride,
Would hard to hate and abhor it;
If more relied on Love to gui le,
The world would be the better for it.
If men dealt lass in stocks and lands,
And more in bonds and deeds fraternal;
If Love's woik had more willing hands
To link this world to the supernal;
If men stored up Love's oil and wine,
And on bruised human souls would pour it;
If 'Sours" und ' mine" would ouee combine,
The world would be the be.tor for it.
If more would act t&J of Life,
And fewer spoil it 111 rehearsal;
If Bigotry would sheath its knito
Till good became more universal;
If Custom, gray with ages grown,
Had tewer blind men to adore it;
If Talent shone for Truth alone,
The world would le better lor it.
II men were wise in liylo things,
A fleeting less in all their dealings;
It hearts bad fewer rusted strings
To isolate their kindly feelings;
(I men, when Wrong beats down the Right,
Would strive together and restoro it;
II Right made Might in eveiy fight,
The world would be better lor it.
A LUCKY SHIP.
It was about twelve o'clock on a
dark, cold February night; the rain had
been pouring down steadily for several
days. One could hardly imagine a more
bleak, desolate station than Elm wood
on that night, with one lamp making
darkness visible, the platform an inch
deep in rain, and a sleepy station-master
and porter giving the only indications
Mr. Hugh Lambert, as he got out of
the train and went to look after Ins
luggage, felt very thankful that he
had only a mile to drive before reach
ing home. He was a man of about
forty, old for his years and slightly
gray; in figure he was tall and well
made, and his face had an expression
As a rule few passengers alighted at
Eluiwood by that late train; but on
this night there were two besides
Hugh Lambert—a young lady and her
maid, with a goodly pile of luggage.
Hugh was wondering a little as to
where they could be going, when he
heard the girl ask the station-master if
there was a carriage waiting from Mrs.
Newton, of Priarton.
"Why, the road has bin blocked since
six o'clock, miss! There's bin a big
landslip, and they're working all night
to git it cleared. I don't think you'll
get to Priarton this week, what with
the slip and the floods."
"What am I to do?" exclaimed the
girl, with a face of blank despair. "Is
there no other road to get to Priarton V"
Hugh Lambert was listening with
some interest. Mrs. Newton was hi s
nearest neighbor, and a great friend of
his; this must be her niece, of whom
he had often heard. He approached
the lady and raised his hat courteously
"l am sorry to say there is no other
road to Priarton; nor is there any way
of getting there to-night. I heard of
the landslip only about an hour ago,
and know that the road is completely
"What can I do?" the girl asked
again. "Is there any inn here, or must
I take the next train back to the near
est town ?"
"The Just train's gone an hour; there
ain't no inn in the country-side save
publics"—this from the porter.
"You must let me arrange this
matter for you," said Hugh Lambert.
*'l think I must be speaking to Mrs.
Newton's niece, Miss Nay ton?"
"You have guessed rightly;" and
Dorothy Nay ton looked up eagerly, de
lighted to find some one to whom she
was known, if only by name.
She was a bright little body, pleas
ant-looking, though she could not lay
claim to beauty—a brunette with
a clear olive complexion, dark eyes, and
a straight nose. She had crossed from
her home that afternoon, she told her
new acquaintance; and so of course
her aunt might not have expected her
to arrive so early.
"You must let me take care of you,"
Lambert said. "My place is close by.
I will take-you there, and send a mes
sage to your aunt as soon as possible to
let her know that you are safe."
Just at that minute a horse was
heard galloping up the dark road, and
presently a man came hurrying into
"Is there a young lady here for
Priarton ?" he asked.
Dorothy went forward eagerly.
"If you please, miss, here's a note
from Mrs. Newton. I've been four
hours getting here; I had to ride
twelve miles round, for the road is
blocked and the floods are out. I had
to get a boat at the low meadows, and
borrow another horse on this side; and
this has delayed me in getting here."
Hardly waiting to listen to this long
explanation from the eld coachman,
Dorothy tore open the note and read:
Iht flJilllieim Journal.
DEININGER & BUMIKLER, Editors and Proprietors.
"MY DEAREST CHIIJ*-—Tain in great
distress. The road bet ween here and
the station has been blocked by a
tremendous landslip; suit is impossible
to s. nd the carriage to meet you. 1
have therefore forwarded a note to niy
great friend. Hugh Lambert, asking
hi in to send for you and give you and
your maid shelter for the night, till we
see what is to be done. He is the
only neighbor on that side of the land
slip. and is so charming you need not
mind going to him; it is indeed the
only thing to be done. In great baste,
"Your loving aunt,
The coachman had also given Hugh
Lambert a note.
"I was to have left it at Leyton, sir."
he said; "but 1 heard you was coming
by this train."
Lambert glanced at the contents, and
then turned to Dorothy.
"Your aunt has kindly trusted you
to me; so now you won't mind accom
panying me home, will you? ' he asked.
"I think it is you who ought to
mind," was Dorothy's answer. "I am
afraid we shall be giving you so much
trouble. It is very good of you."
A minute later she was seated beside
him in the dog cart, spinning along the
dark roads into what was to Iter an un
Dorothy was very tired, and was
thankful to reach the house and be
handed over to the care of the house
keeper. Very soon she was fast asleep
in an old-fashioned, oak-panelled room
would have seemed very ghostly
to her but that she was too fatigued to
take much heed of her surroundings;
and, beside, her maid was in the dress
ing-room and within call.
The next morning Dorothy was
down for half-past nine breakfast, and
w as show n into a bright little morning
room. Mr. Lambert met her. and was
so kind and anxious to make her happy
and at home that she very soon found
herself talking to him as if she had
known him for years, instead of his
being an acquaintance of a few hours
only. She was rather an unconvention
al litttle person, and by no means stiff or
cold. Bho had warm-hearted manners,
and looked at the world in a trustful
way, believing people and trusting in
them flrmlv, unless she found that
thw w ere not to be depended upon,
instead of proving before trusting, as
colder-natured and perhaps wiser folks
do. She bad been brought up by an
old uncle, for whom her elder sister
kept house. They had no brothers,
and their parents had both died years
before. Mrs. Newton was their
mother's sister in-law; but her husband
had quarreled with the girl's uncle and
guardian, Mr. Nay ton; so it was not
till after the doath of the latter that
Dorothy and her sister had been allow
ed to go to Priarton. Now however
they had hoped to spend a good deal
of time there; but this was Dorothy's
Mary Nay ton, her sister, was about
twenty-seven, and exceedingly placid
and sensible, but she took things so
quietly that Dorothy w as always allow
ed to go her own way ;uid do whatever
she liked; consequently, at twenty
three, she had learned to tliink and act
fur herself, and, as her nature was
impulsive and warm-hearted, she in
dulged in a great many theories of her
own, hated conventionalities, believed
firmly in Platonic friendsltips, and not
unfrequeutlv got into trouble in eon
It very soon struck Hugh Lambert
that she was different from most of the
girls he had met, and she interested
It was with a feeling of relief that
he found the roa 1 would be impassible
for some days; so lie wrote to Mrs.
Newton, begging her to let Dorothy
remain with him, instead of returning
home, and asked an elderly cousin who
lived a few stations off to come and
act as chaperon.
The old lady accepted the invitation
and the post allotted her; but, as she
was a great invalid, Dorothy and
Hugh were constantly left alone
together. He liked to sit in the dusk
and hear her sweet voice singing to
him, to watch her arranging flowers,
and to consult her*about the garden.
The girl felt supremely happy—he was
so kind to her, such an agreeable com
panion in every way, that she thorough
ly enjoyed his society.
A fortnight went by, and the road
was pronounced perfectly safe; even
the floods had subsided. !So Hugh had
no excuse for detaining his fair guest
longer; and, though very reluctant to
part with her, he drove her over to
She was standing in the hall as he
left that night, after dinner, and held
out her hand to say good-by.
"I can't thank you enough for all
your kindness," she said softly.
"Nay, my child, I cannot tell you
what a pleasure it has been to me;
but perhaps you will know some day,"
he replied, and she went upstairs won
dering what he meant.
She believed firmly in Platonic
friendship that she would not let her
self think that the feeling toward
Hugh Lambert was anything else;
and, although she knew he disbelieved
in her theory in the abstract—for they
had argued the subject very warmly -
still she thought that bis senti
ments were well defined iu her ease.
Hugh Lambert felt as if something
very bright had come into Ids life sineo
he bad known Dorothy. She was so
quaint and naive in speech, new and
fresh with her ideas and theories, so
free and unaffected in manner, and yet
so womanly withal, that during those
few days they bad spent together she
had completely won his heart. Hut he
was not likely to act on the spur of the
moment; he was so much older than
she; how could ho ever expect that
bright little body to regard him as
anything but a siteadv-going friend?
Hut still, day after day, he would
ride over to see her at Priarton, and
when he returned would sit and think
of how she used to look in the rooms
that now seemed so desolate. llow he
longed in the evening for the sound of
her voice singing to him "The Land
o' the Leal" or "Auld Robin dray!"
And Dorothy began to watch for his
coming, and, if, by chance, something
detained him at home, how long the
day seemed and how uninteresting
everything was! At first she justified
jt to herself by the thought of her
friendship to him —a friendship which
had ripened quickly in the peculiar cir
cumstances of their meeting; but little
by little, as time passed, and she had
been at Priarton nearly three months
it dawned upon the girl that the feel
ing she entertained for Hugh Lambert
was something moro than mere friend
ship. She fought against herself with
all the strength of her nature; she
could not bear to prove false to her
own theories, and traitor to her favorite
cause; but finally she felt the struggle
was hopeless, and made up her mind to
keep her secret securely locked in her
While gathering primroses one sweet
spring afternoon, Dorothy heard a
step crushing the dead leaves, and saw
Hugh coming toward her.
"I want to speak to you," lie said,
"Will you walk with me a little?"
Presently he turned sharply and
took both her hands, and iooking more
in earnest than she had ever seon him
"I can't stand this any longer!" ho
cried out. 'T must know my fate one
way or the other. It is true that I
am years older, but no one will ever
care for you better than 1 do. If you
cannot love me in return, I will go
away and never worry you any more.
I give you my word. Am I to go,
"Go! oh, no! she gasped out, hardly
able to realize what he was saying,
only feeling as if she could not breathe.
Not long afterward thero was a
happy wedding at the dear old home;
and then Dorothy came back to
brighten up the old house at Leyton.
Hugh Lambert would have been
less or more than a man if he could
have resisted triumphing over her a
little; and, as they went into the
library, where he and sin; had often
argued together, and she had bravely
defended her theories, he turned and
"By-the-by, Dorothy, who was right
after all, about Platonic friendships?"
Earth's March Through the Heavens.
It is difficult to comprehend that, in
addition to the earth's motion around
the sun, the latter is also moving
through space at the rate of 160,000-
000 miles a year. The astronomers of
the last century discovered that our
solar system was flying through space
in the direction of the constellation
Hercules; in other words, if the spec
tator were to take a stationary point
in the heavens, he would see our sun
with its attending planets passing
through the space at the rate of 450,-
000 miles per day. .Six thousand years
ago, it is computed, our solar
system was a million millions of
miles farther from the stars of Hercu.
les than it is to-day. The region in
which we are entering is more thick
ly studded with stars, that is, with
suns of other solar systems, than the
heavenly regions we have left behind
us. What a marvelous universe we
live in! When we travel on a railway
car at the rate of fifty miles an hour, it
makes our heads swim; but when wo
call to mind that the earth revolves on
its axis once in twenty-four hours and
around the sun, 92,000,000 miles dis
tant, in 365 days, and that sun is fly
ing through space 160,000,000 miles in
a year, human consciousness cannot
comprehend the mad whirl of worlds
by which w r e arc surrounded. What
fairy tale or Arabian Nights story is
half so marvelous as the simplest and
most ordinary facts in astronomy?—
MILLHEIM, PA., THURSDAY, JULY 12,1883,
A LONGEVITY LIST.
Thf Xmius autl Itnonl* of r>raii
IVIio 11* v* 1,1 red lit*) oikl One Hun
"1 have records of more than ten
thousand persons who have lived one
hundred years and upward," said Jo
seph K. Perkins to a reporter of the
•Syracuse (N. Y.) Stunrfunf. "I have
spent thirty years in collecting these
materials, which 1 am preparing for
publication. I have ransacked almost
every branch of literature, magazines,
newspapers, medical works, encyclope
dias, etc., and 1 have personally writ
ten to a large number of centenarians
to procure authentic statistics."
| "Who is the oldest person you have
discovered?" asked the reporter.
_ "According to the historian to the
king of Portugal, a man named Numas
1 do Uugna died in India in 1556, aged
j 370 years. 1 have sixty-three names
of persons who died more than 150
years old. 1 might mention of those
of that number who died in America,
a slave named Si asms who died in 1798
aged ISO. In 1780 Louisa Tritxo died
in South America, aged 176. Of
course I cannot take into account the
aged people mentioned in the Old Tes
j lament, because in those days a differ
ent method of computing time was in
"What country produces the great
est number of centenarians?"
"The cold countries. Perhaps Rus
, sia comes first. Switzerland, Sweden*
Wales, Scotland, and Ireland produce a
great many. Our country is among
the first, ulthoug many of our centuri
ansareof foreign birth. The Ameri
; can Indians have refnarkable longevi-
I tv. We do not look for extremely long
life in the tropics, but a celebrated
physician in Algiers, Africa, collected
in thirteen years 162 cases of Africans
more than 100 years old. I wrote to
him for the names, but he had not pre
| served them. The Chinese are not
very long lived. In 1785 the emperor
called a convocation of all the old resi
dents of his empire, utyd of the number
who responded only four were more
than 100 years old Jmdia lias on rcc
ord a large number of cases."
"Do you find that civilization lias
anything to do with longevity?"
"Indirectly, perhaps. Almost al
cases of extreme old age belong to tlie
; lower classes. They have more robust
, costitutions to begin with, and they
are not subjected to the wear and tear,
the late hours, and the tendencies of
dissipation that fall to the lot of a cos
mopolitan. Of the European countries
France has the fewest centenarians.
In fact, they are extremely rare there.
Their nervous temperament has much
;to do with it. A curious fact, how
ever, is that Frenchmen in very largo
numbers live to be between 60 and'Bo
years old, but drop off without going
beyond the latter figure."
"Which sex lives the longer?"
"There are more women who attain
the age of 100 than men. but more
men live to be exceedingly old than
! "Are there many cases of longevity
in this city?"
"I have collected more than fijfty
cases of persons who died in this coun
ty aged 100 and over. There are liv
ing here at present three persons older
J than 100. These are Mrs. Driscoll
aged 105, a colored woman named Wil
liams in the poor-house, aged 103, and
a United States pensioner 102 years
old, living on Water street, named Van
"When will your work be ready for
"Within a year or two. It will bo
; called 'The Encyclopedia of Human
Longevity; or, Records of People Who
Have Lived 100 A'ears and Upwards.
It will contain between two and three
hundred illustrations, and, as I said
more than ten thousand instances."
llow Rarnnm Emptied a Show.
A story is told of how Barnum once
succeeded in emptying his big show at
a time when it was densely crowded
! and thousands were waiting outside to
obtain admission. He knew that a
; start was all that was needed to effect
this purpose, but how to manage that
was the rub. At length a bright idea
occurred to hiin. Painting up in large
letters on a piece of calico, "This way
to Egress," lie hung it up at a conve
nient angle of his show. Some of the
1 people thinking "egress" was some
strange new animal just added to the
collection, passed through the slit in
the curtain, and to their amazement
found themselves outside the show.
! The 4;hing was done. Everybody saw
every other body making for the cor
ner where the new animal was on ex
hibition, and in a few minutes the show
was emptied, the outgoing stream be
ing so great that it was quite impos
sible to turn when once caught in its
A PAPER FCR THE HOME CIRCLE.
Labor and Food.
The human body never ceases to
work, liven in the most profound
slumber some of tho functions of life
are going on, its, for instance, breathing,
the circulation of the blood, digestion,
when there is food in the stomach; and
it billows that some part of the ner
vi/us system is therefore awake and at
tending to business all day and night
long. Jn the act of living, some of the
substance of the body is being con
stantly consumed. The amount of
work done by the heart in one day in
propelling the blood is now estimated
as equal to the work ot' a steam engine
in raising 125 tons one foot high, or
one ton 125 feet high. We lose in
weight by working. Weigh a man
alter several hours' hard labor, and he
will bo found two or three, and, in
extreme cases, sevend pounds lighter.
If we do not wish to become bankrupt,
we must replace by food tho amount
we have lost in labor. Hunger and
thirst are the instincts which prompt
us to do this. They are like automat
ic alarm clocks, which stop the engine
at various points to take on fuel and
water. In a healthy man as much is
taken in as is required to maintain the
weight of the body against loss
Nature keeps the account. On one
side is so much food spent in work; on
the other, so much received into the
stomach for digestion. They should
balance like the accounts of an honest
bookkeeper. In an unhealthy person
the instinct of hunger becomes disor
dered and does not sound the alarm,
and so the person goes on working -
without eating until be becomes
pauperized; or the instinct works too
frequently, and lie eats too much and
clogs the vital machinery. A calcula
tion of the business done in the body
reveals the fact that for a hard work
ing person about eight and one-half
pounds of food and drink are used up
daily; some bodies use more and some
ess, but this is the average. .The
profit which the body gels on this tran
saction has been calculated, and may
interest our readers. The energy
stored up in the eight and one-half
pounds of fiw>d ought to raise 3100
tons one foot high. Most of this ener
gy, however, is exjiended in keeping
the body warm and its functions active.
About one-tenth can be spent in our
bodily movements or in work. The
profit, then, on the process is about ten
per cent. This is enough to raise 340
tons one foot high each day. A profit
which is quite enough for earning a
good living if rightly expended, and it
is probably more than most make; but
all ought to strive to reach this point
if possible.— Scfvntijic American.
The Confederate Suit Works.
A correspondent of the Philadelphia
Ledger gives an interesting account of
Saltville, near the Clinch mountains, in
West Tennessee, where the southern
people obtained their salt during the
rebellion. The locality is a basin in
closing about six hundred acres, the
bed of a former lake, forming one of
those rich blue-grass bottoms that are
worth a fortune to the cattle-raiser,
and underlying it is a salt rock. Here
is made the salt that supplies Georgia
and Alabama. In 1858 George W.
Palmer, a New York salt-maker from
Syracuse, came to the region and went
into the salt-making industry in a
small way. Wells were sunk, piercing
the salt rock, the water beneath it was
raised to the surface, boiled in pans,
and the salt thus obtained. The in
dustry was in moderate operation when
tho rebellion began, and it then extend
ed in an amazing way. The blockade
of the southern ports cut oft all the
outside supply of salt, and here almost
the entire confederacy had to come for
it. The manufacture was made a na
tional one, each southern state estab
lished its agency, paying a royalty for
the salt produced, and Col. Palmer, ex
tending his business, took in Gen.
Stuart as a partner. They are now
probably the two wealthiest men in
Virginia. During tho war federal
troops destroyed tho works, but after
they left the manufacture was resumed
It was enormously profitable for th?
owners, who turned out as much as
ten million bushels a year. The re
ceipts of confeder&te money were at
times so heavy that they had not
opportunity to count it, but bundled it
up, taking tho account as sent them.
As gold appreciated and the paper ac
cumulated they bought land. In this
way Stuart got seventy thousand acres
and Palmer bought out all the region
surrounding Salt Lick, thus getting a
magnificent estate of twelve thousand
acres, on which he now lives with his
brother, and breeds many thousands of
sheep anil hundreds of fine cattle. The
salt industry by this process often pro
duced them an acre of land for a bushel
of salt in the high war prices, but the
production has now fallen off, about '
600,000 bushels being turned out annu- j
Terms, $1 00 Per Year in Advance.
How the l ute d Nlatei Government He
wind* Those Prisons Who Nave Other*
from Itro WIIIIIK.
'i'lie Washington correspondent ol
Tht! Fhiladelphia ltecurd says: If you
jump into the Delaware and, at the
imminent risk of your own life, save
the life of another, the secretary of the
treasury will give you a medal. II
your risk was "extra hazardous" or
your services particularly distinguished
you will get a gold medal; if your risk
was of a lower degree it will he silver.
When the life-saving service was reor
ganized under it s present efficient chief,
Sumner J. Kimball, congress establish
ed these rewards. They were then
called the first-class and the second
class medals, and were given only for
the actual saving of life at the actua
risk of life. People who had saved
life at the risk of life objected, however,
to receiving a second-class medal for
what they deemed first-class service.
One spirited young lady returned the
silver second-class medal sent to her.
She. wanted the best or none, and it
now reposes on its velvet bed in Mr.
Kimball's ofliec safely. It was found,
too, that men often saved life at a risk
of property or of limb not tantamount
to a risk of life, but deserving of some
recognition. It was thought, for in
stance, that the master of a laden ves
sel who delayed his voyage to save a
wrecked crew at great personal expense
and inconvenience deserved a inedal
equally with the man who simply
. moistened his clothes in the surf. So
congress, to meet these suggestions,
changed the names of the medals to
"goW medal" and "silver medal," and
made the provisions of award so
comprehensive as to take in all life
savers at risk. The terms of award
are, however, not loose. Tiiis is evi
dent from the fact that while many
applications are recieved (through "my
congressman," of course), few medals
are issued in a year; sometimes as few
as four or five, and never more than a
score. The applications, which must be
supported by affidavits, go to a com
mittee composed of the chief of the life
saving service, the chief of the naviga
tion division of the treasury depart
ment, and the chief of the steam
vessels inspection service. These
gentlemen have to be convinced by
evidence that would satisfy a court of
law. Thev cannot be bulldozed bv
"your member." Once convinced'
however, they recommend you to the
secretary of the treasury, and he sends
you your medal with a handsome little
letter. The medals are very handsome
in themselves. A new series, some
what differing from the old, is now
being prepared in the Philadelphia
mint. These 1 have not seen, but the
old ones were good enough. The gold
one had a life-boat in the act of rescu
ing a drowning man on the obverse,
and an angel or two on the reverse
with the necessary inscriptions. It is
not strange, perhaps, that a man or
woman should deserve a medal of this
sort several times in the course of a
useful life. As a matter of fact, these
medals have been earned, again and
again, by the same person. They never
get more than one medal of each class t
though; but for each subsequent
achievmcnt deserving of a medal, they
are given a bar of gold or silver, as the
case may be, to be placed on the ribbon
of the decoration as the clasps are on
European war medals.
Just as 110 Said It,
An excited gentleman, who took ex
ception to a personal notice made of
him in the paper, called at the office
the other day to demand a correction.
110 said that he did not take any stock
in newspaper apologies; that they
were generally an aggravation of the
original offense, and to guard against
any such possibility he insisted that
just what ho would dictate should be
printed in contradiction and precisely
as he uttered it.
Perhaps the gentleman did not con
' sider that, as ho had a very bad cold in
the head, his caution to print his re
marks "precisely as he uttered them"
would involve his name somewhat
ridiculous, for he was especially em
phatic in saying that he "did dot wadt
\dy dodseds about it;"- but having
agreed to his demand, we feel in honor
■ b -und to abide by our promise, and
the following is what he said and just
as he said it:
"Id lass week's dubber of tiiis dews
-1 f aper ad iteb apposed statidg that
Bister Jokd Dicolas pcdt Sudday id
Colubbus. As this was dot id accord
adce with the facts add codtlicts with
the geddlebad's stadebedt to his fabily
add friedds that he was id Greed
Towdshib od Sudday, the correction is
l cheerfully bade that Bister Dicolas did
sped Sudday id Green Towdshib add
1 dod id Cob bbus, as errodeously do
' ticed." — Cincinnati Saturday Night.
If pubscriWre order the ilisooutinnation of
newspapers, the publishers may confinne to
sentl them until nil arrearages are paid.
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A Wife to Her Husband.
One of ui, dear —
Will fit by n bed with a marvelous fear,
And clasp a band
Growing cold as it loels for the spirit land-
Dulling, which one?
One ol us, dear!
Will stand by the other's coflfia bior,
And look and weep,
While those marble lips strange silence keep,
Darling, which one?
One of us, dear—
By an cqien grave will drop a tear,
And homeward go,
The anguish of an unshared grief to know-
Darling, which one?
One ol us, darling, it must bo;
It may be you will slip from me;
Or perhaps my life may just lie done—
A piece of steel is a good deal like a
man—when you get it red-hot it loses
It is pleasant to know that the big
bridge between Xew York and Brook
lyn is a suspension and not a failure.
The most affiieted part of the house
is the window. It is always full of
panes, and who has not seen more
than one window-blind?
"Thank Heaven!" exclaimed a fond
father, as he paced the floor at mid
night with his howling heir; "thank
Heaven, you are not twins!"
Fruitful of trouble—Green apples*
A man may be ever so absent mind
ed, and yet he never forgets his first
wrestle with a carpet tack.
None but the most inhuman would
think of pulling down the blind.
A company has been formed in Vi
enna to undertake the general busi
ness of washing windows, scrubbing,
cleaning pavements, etc. The origi
nator of the idea is supposed to have
been at one time a Philadelphia ser
A vigilant sentinel is posted at the
door of a picture gallery, with strict
orders of the customary character. A
sight-seer happens along and is prompt
ly halted. "Here, sir, you must leave
your cane at the door!" "But, my
friend, I haven't got any cane!" "Then
go back and get one! No one is al
lowed to pass in here unless he leaves
his cane at the door. Orders is or*
"Don't you forget," exclaimed a
man, arising during a discussion, "that
I lay over the deck." "Do you mean
that you can whip me?" replied a long
haired Arkansaw man, also arising.
"No, sir," said the first speaker.
"Then what do you mean when you
say you lay over the deck?" "I mean
that 1 am a steamboat man and sleep
in the pilot-house."
Soup and Sound.
Some curious demonstrations of the
effect on the color and figures in soap
bubbles were given at the Franklin in
stitute in Philadelphia the other even
ing. A film of soap was placed across
the end of a phoneidoscope. To bring
the sound in direct contact with the
soap a tube was used. A "reflection of
the film was thrown on a canvas screen,
where it first assumed a bluish-gray
appearance. An intonation of the
voice, with the lips close to the mouth
of the tube, caused a number of black
spots to appear on the reflection.,
When these passed away a beautiful
light-green, intermingled with pink,
remained. These two appeared to be
the principal colors caused by sound.
It was noticeable, however, that while
a certain tone would cause the same
figure to reappear, it had no control
over the color. A tone which, for in
stance, caused one solid color to ap
pear, would bring out, perhaps, a dark
blue at one time and a yellow at an
other. No difference was noticeable
in the effect of the male and female
The Sparrow Classified.
This journal has distinctly demon
strated in several editorial papers dur
ing the past two or three years where
the sparrow stands in ornithological
classification, and that his place is not,
and never has been, among insect
feeding birds. lie is a finch, and there
fore essentially a grain-feeding bird.
Mr. Jonesby says he believes a spar
row would, eat an insect provided you
coulil convince him that some other
bird wanted it; and, in confirmation
of this assertion, he says he once saw
a bluebird about to appropriate a worm,
but he was driven off by two sparrows,
who greedily and heedlessly seized a
short string instead of the worm, and,
after a stubborn conflict, one of them
secured it and immediately swallowed
it, the worm in the meantime making
its exit into the — Lancaster