Bema itd
Bellefonte, Pa., January 3, 1880.
IN THE OLD DAYS.
Dear Grandmamma sighed
As she slowly untied
The packet she found in the loft;
The paper was bluish,
The words were too foolish,
The sentiments, awe thought, were soft.
Now if our dearGranny
Were young, like our Fanny,
Who lingered last night at the gate,
It would not seem queer,
To be called “love” and “dear.”
And “prithee, sweet, tell me my fate.”
But it sounded se silly
To sing “Your sweet Willie,”
“Who worships the ground at your feet,”
Now Grandpa lakes enuff
And thinks it enough
“To doze, in the sun in his seat.
When Grandma wasyoung
Her praises were sung
By rapturous lover a seore ;
I wish 'twas the fashion
‘To record the blind passion
In verses of twenty or more:
Then pen, ink and paper,
Some wax and a taper,
Were all the expenses inearréd;
Now, costly bouquets,
Drives, operas, plays,
And “seats in the parquette preferred.”
The, old-fashiond ways,
The minuet’s maze,
The sonnets by messenger sent;
A seat meant for one,
Her promise is won,
And all without costing a cent.
—Chicaga Journal.
——————— a
THE MAN-EATER.
A STORY OF INDIA.
There were two entrances to the draw-
ing room; this must be born in mind.
The house itseif was old-fashioned, a
large and many-gabled one, standing
standing alone and solitary in a spaci-
ous garden ; all the windows had been
closed and the jalousies shut and se-
cured from the outside ! th tatty-grass
blinds on the piazza had been rolled up
and put away until another blazing
nworning called for their refreshing
shade.
The locality was near that part of the
delta called the Sunderbunds, through
which the Ganges expands its branch-
es as it approaches the sea—a laby-
rinth of creeks and rivers, of jungle and
stagnant water. The night was fine,
but moonless ; there was a heavy dew
rapidly falling, like a misty rain, which
in hot countries, is a perfectly natural
occurrence.
I went into the drawing-room by
what might be called the back door, as
it led into the back drawing-room, and
smaller of the two; thejother, a far larg-
er apartment, communicated with this
one by great folding doors of gold and
white. The back drawing-room was
very full of furniture, rather incouve-
niently so. As I was carrying an arm-
ful of books, and in my disengaged
hand a lamp, I proceeded, with
‘tolerable security, though slowly, but
then, of course, I knew the room and
could have gone to my destination in
the dark. What struck me as both
curious and irritative was the fancy
that the room seemed more impe-
ded than ever with the furniture—dark,
old-fashioned rosewood furniture, which
had been made to match the piano.
The various articles looked as if they
had been dragged about the room.
Possibly the darkness above and
around me helped the illusion; anyway;
they had the appearance of having
been gradually spread toward the cen-
tre of the room round a heavy and solid
table. It was this table that I wish-
ed to go to. I walked very
slowly, partly because I--did not
wish to spill the books which I had
spent the last hour in collecting, and
partly because of an unaccountably
horrible feeling which had come over
me. This part of the house was quite
silent; indeed, it was oftea so of an
evening. My brother had passed me
on his way upstairs, having been all
day at Madrepore, and no doubt being
tired had gone to bed. There were very
few stairs at all,as the house was practi-
cally a one-storied one. rambling and
full of angles having been built and ad-
deed added to at various times; here
and there little staircases streamed out,
leading to long passages and unexpect-
ed cupboards ; the back drawing-room
door itself opened from a side-flight of
five stairs. As I had encountered two
small chairs and an overturned music
"stands I stood still for a second,
looking for a clear passage, and there-
by helding the lamp high and well in
front of me; as I paused amid the com-
plete silence which reigned, an im-
mense tiger slowly crossed the path of
light, turning on me two burning, yel-
low eyes, gleaming like vivid topazes.
I stood there in stiffened terror and
heard my heart beat. The tiger's
mouth was parted and running with sa-
liva; so wide was ithanging open atthe
corners that the serrated edges of the
lower lips were plainly visible. It glar-
ed with a steadfast look of such grin-
ning cruelty, such conscious malignity,
that it froze my blood and turned my
limbs to stone.
The tiger crossed the India-matting
of the room with a noiseless, swinging
gail ; as it appeared to have come from
the obscurity near the piano, so it
vanished into the obscurity beyond—
that is, outside the pathway of the
lantern-licht. TI stood perfectly immo-
vable, still clutching the books with
my left arm, still holding the lamp be-
fore me, still gazing at the place it had
crossed. and apparently forever seeing
that awfnl look upon the tiger's face.
It seemed as if my eyes saw the face,
though my mind had rapidly suggested
the frightful probability that the tiger
was behind me. At the same time, by
some dual mental process, it was hold-
ing out hope that the animal had pass-
ed through the great folding doors into
the dark room beyond. I have no re-
membrance at all of my mind dictating
the next action. I pursued ; it seemed
just an instinct indulged in by the body
upon its own account for its own im-
mediate preservation.
[ laid the books very carefully down
{ you mind pulling the front door to in
| the large drawing-room as you go by ?”
{ think of nothing else to say then, and
1 I said it slowly and quite naturally.
ry noise or disturbing the hand that |
held the lamp, and then, raising with :
slow effort one of the heavy little
chairs that had blocked my passage, I
silently swung it on to my shoulders
and held it so that it covered my head.
then turned slowly sidewise, with my
mind impressed with the necessity of
keeping the lamp as far as possible be- !
hind me. This struck me at the time
as clever and of unquestionable im por-
tance in saving my life. I managed to
walk gently out of the room. 1 sup-
pose [had been in it fiye minutesout it
seemed like a weary hour.
As I closed the door and locked it,my
brother unexpectedly came down the
passage and passed me on the little
flight of stairs ; he was rather in a hur-
ry.
“Godfrey;” T called out to him, “do
It seems strange now, but. I could
He assented and disappeared, and I,
without noticing it at the time, took up
the chair again, and with my lamp as-
eended the short flight of stairs, and
proceeded along the passage to my own
room, walking slowly and guardedly.
The mind had evidently been so shock-
ed that it had not recovered its domi-
nant sway over the body. Upon reach-
ing my own room, I put the chair care-
fully down and sat upon it. The lamp
I had placed on the table at the same
time. I sat there a few seconds, feebly
wondering which room the tiger
was in. Then I got up with
a sudden alacrity, took from its case a
large revolver, and turned into the pas-
sage again. In a minute or so I was
in Godfrey's room. He was half un-
dressed. “What's the matter?’ he de-
manded, with startled eyes. When I
had told him he tcok my hand and
wrung it. “Yow may thank God that
you are alive, old fellow.” Then he
dressed hurriedly, took a heavy rifle
from a rack, and filled his pockets with
cartridges, ‘Come along; stay, let me
go first; your nerves are a bit shaky
yet.” :
© We creptout and awakened the pun-
kah wallah,an old and faithful Hindoo,
whom my brother once nursed during
a dangerous illness—a brave and trust-
worthy man, who would have laid his
life down for Godfrey.
“It is the man-eater !” said the Hin-
doo, after my recital.
“You will come with us, Remee?”’
asked my brother. The old man smiled
as if the question were superflous.
“Will the sahib let his servant advise
him ?’
“Yes, Ramee ; tell me your plan.”
As the Hindoo rapidly unfolded it,
my brother smiled dubiously at the
strange idea.
“Cunning must be met with cun-
ning,” said the Hindoo.
“It'll take three hours to arrange,” I
remarked.
“Three hours will bring the dawn;
now, who can see in the dark ?—not
the sahib, but yes, the tiger.”
“Very well,” said Godfrey, “let's see
about it at once.” From the garden-
er's outhouse we brought a roll of wire
netting which had been put there for
fencing in a paddock a few days previ-
ously. Together we collected armsful
of shavings the workmen had not clear-
ed away, quantities of dried leaves,
rags—everything we could find soft and
pliable ; and, having cut the wire into
three square lengths, firmly lashed
them together, one over the other.
When completed, it was the shape but
rather larger than the window in the
room in which the tiger lay
been licked. Our operations so far had
been conducted upon the veranda out-
side, near the gardener’s room; we
then rolled up the wire netting and car-
ried it round the corner of the house to
within a few yards of the big window ;
here it was unrolled again and flatten-
ed, out, then upon its surface we pour-
ed all the shavings, rags, leaves and re-
fuse we had collected, and upon this
mass smeared and spread a quantity of
lime left by the workmen for the mor-
row. This we smoothed down as well
as we were able, till the whole mass
assumed some consistency and clung to
the interstices of the netting. Remee
next took some stout twine and impro-
vised arough kind ot a needle from a
bamboo-cane. With this implement
he sewed all over the mass of stuff.
thus making a string-netting which
helped to keep the composition in its
place. So far, so good; the most dif-
ficult operation yet remained.
“Take my gun,” said Godfrey to me,
“and give me the revolver.”
“Sahib,” whispered the Hindoo,
placing a restraining hand upon my
brother, ‘let Remee complete his work
—is it not his duty? If he fails he
shall sufter.”
“You foolish man,” said Godfrey,
“how can yon do it alone?’ With
slow and noiseless steps the netting,
looking very like a large mattress, was
carried exactly opposite the window
and laid gently down ; then both re-
tired as siletly as they had advanced.
Ramee then brought from the out-
house a ladder, and with a gesture of
entreaty signed to my brother to stand
aside and take his rifle in his hand.
With bare feet the Hindoo crept up to
the window again and reared the lad-
der against the wall. Taking a coil of
rope from his veck, he deftly fastened
it to the highest wall staple of the out-
side shutter. Descending, he quickly
enlaced the short stand in the netting,
placed the ladder on the other side, and
ran the thong to the other staple. For
the first time he made noise, but it was
unavoidable, caused by the netting be-
ing drawn upward till it hung like a
great curtain, covering the shutter
and hidding the window from us.
Godfrey and I stood ready to fire.
The Hindoo, perspiring at every pore,
descended the ladder, which he lowered
and placed horizontally on the win-
dow-sill, and lashed it to the bottom of
the netting and again fastened that to
the two lower staples on either side.
The thing was done; far away in the
east the dawn was breaking, above!
without making theslightest unnecessa-
which the morning star was slowly
hidden, and the doors of which had |-
paling its silver fire.
“But, Ramee, the shutters are still
fastened !”’
“Sahib, I unfastened them ; they are
open the breatdth of a man’s hand;
presently the light will stream through.”
“Quick ;, fetch another rifle.”
When he returned, I took the gun
and gave him my revolver.
A light breath of wind passed mur-
muring through the feathery erowns of
the slender cocoa-palms, two great
spears of light shot up in tne sky, some-
where in the garden a bird sang—the
sun had risen. “Wait the signal,”
whispered my brother ; “now, Ramee.”
The Hindoo knelt down and imitated
the bleating of a kid that had lost its
mother. At the instant Ramee sprang
to his teet, the silence was rent by a
sundering crash and a sudden, terrific
roar ; the shutters were torn from their
sockets, a great mass hurled itself pre-
cipitately through the window, and the
tiger, with its head aud shoulders bur-
ied in the lime-covered debris, was grap-
pling in maddened fury with an enemy
he could not see nor make much im-
pression upon.
Onr guns were at our shoulders.
The animal was twenty feet from us,
tearing up the graveled path, and coil-
ing itself in inextricable confusion in
the broken netting and splintered lad-
der. Ramee uttered a loud ery. The
animal had freed its head, and stood
with its bleeding moath in an enforced
listening attitude. It was the moment
Godfrey had waited for, and he fired.
The tiger, evidently not seeing him,
sprang at the window again, but missed
the opening, hurling itself against the
wall and falling on the broken shutters.
At the minate it alighted, I aimed at
the spot behind the shoulder and fired;
it gave a convulsive leap and turned 1ts
bloodshot eyes in our direction. Then
Godfrey fired again and told me to do
the same.
“Back! back!” cried Ramee.
The animal had gathered itself to-
gether and sprang forward with one
mighty bound, ann rolled_over with a
scream of dying rage.
When we came to measure the bru e
afterward, we found it was fifteen feet
from the nose to the tip of his tail.—
The Argonaut.
After Half a Century.
Meeting of Brothers who were Parted
for Fifty Years.
In conversation with an aged gentle-
man from Pembroke, Ky., a* Chronicle
reporter heard a story which reads like a
romance, but nevertheless is true.
Away back near the close of the last
century there lived a happy family in
the “Old Dominion,”’ blest with all the
comforts that surrounded a Virginia
homestead at that date. The family con-
sisted of father and mother and two sons.
They were as happy as one could imag-
ine a family to be, who were blest with
all the luxuries of primitive husbandry
The father was stricken with paralysis
one day, and lived only a short time.
The demise of the father was soon fol-
lowed by that of the mother, and the
two boys were left to divide the estate,
the father having made no will. Things
moved on pretty smoothly for awhile un-
til the elder brother married and tried to
take possession of the homestead and
make a general utility man of his 16-
year-old brother. The outcome of this
was that the younger brother proposed
to leave home, and called for his half of
his father’s estate. He was met by his
married brother, and was told that he
could have nothing. A quarrel ensued,
and a fight in which the boy came out
considerably bruised by his brother, was
the result. ’
DRIVEN FROM HOME.
The young man, stung to the quick by
the brutal treatmeut of his brothra, pack-
ed up what few clothing he could carry
in a sack and turned his back upon the
home of his childhood, to try his for-
tunes in the west.
At that early day Kentucky and
Tennessee were open for settlers, and
people were pouring into the new states
by the hunderds. One day a youthful
looking person came into a settlement,
near where the town of Pembroke, Ky.,
is now located, and asked for work. He
told the people that he was from Virgin-
ia and had come west to make his fortune.
He was taken into full membership by
this band of pioneer settlers and given
work and a place to sleep. He worked
along awhile and finally entered a piece
of land for himself. He turned out to
be the shrewdest man in the camp, and
soon was recognized as a leader in all
public affairs. He grew wealthy by de-
grees, and by the time the section in
which he lived was fully settled, he was
regarded as one of the rich men of the
community. In early days he moved
to Clarksville and went into the lumber
business—that is, he employed a force of
men in rafting logs down the Cumber-
land before there was much of a settle-
ment here. This venture proved re-
munerative beyond his most sanguine
expectations, and he soon went back to
the Pembroke neighborhood and invest-
ed his gains in land.
After Pembroke had become a little
village, and people were raising all kinds
of farm products in the neighborhood, an
elderly looking gentleman drove into the
town one day and put up at the little
tavern. He remained in the town sev-
eral days before he made known his busi-
ness. When he had examined the coun-
try closely, he made known that he
wished to buy a home. He was referred,
by the landlord of thetavern, to the gen-
tleman mentioned in connection with
the early settlement of the place.
REUNITED.
He sought out the man who owned
more property in that conntry than any
one else, and made known his business.
A trade was soon made, and when docu-
ments were drawn up transferring the
property, the elderly gentleman become
very much excited and betrayed consid-
erable emotion. On being questioned by
the gentleman he said: “I once had a
brother by your name who lett Virginia
some fifty years ago at the age of about
16 years, and seeing the name brings up
thoughts of home, when he and I were
boys together, happy in a father and
mother’s love.” The man wept bitterly
and said that he had hunted for a broth-
er, for years, that he drove away from
home in Virginia. The men compared
notes, and soon found out that they were
the same brothers, and that they were
the same brothers that parted in boy-
hood, vowing eternal enmity to each
other. They fell on each other's necks
and wept like children, a curious crowd
standing around looking at the transac-
tion. When the two brothers parted in
boyhood they had heard nothing of each |
other—in fact, they had not tried to
communicate. They are both now dead,
but have descendants living within ten
miles of Clarksville, and others near
Hopkinsville and Pembroxe. They
were both good citizens, and the young-
er of the two was sent as a representative
to the Kentucky legislature two or three
times, and made one unsuccessful race
for congress years ago.
The gentleman who gave the infor-
mation is now an old man and says that
the circumstances occurred as related
above, when be was a boy. They lived
on adjoining farms atter the older one
moved to Kentucky,and were fast friends. !
Their names are withheld on account of
family relations, but the whole affair cer-
tainly occurred as narrated above. If
it doesn’t read like a romance, what is
it ?—Clarksville (Tenn.) Chronicle.
One of the Animals you Can't Catch
in a Trap out of Water.
They Are Very Fond of Crawfish and
Can Be Trapped Under Water—
How to Smoke Him Out of a
Tree—His Habits in Win-
ter, Especially the
Long Fast.
“Did you ever hear any one say he
had trapped a coon ?’’ said P. B. Eyler,
of Pittsburg, who has been spending a
tew days on Lake Keuka, and says that
if there is anything he knows all about
it’s coons. “If any one ever told you he
trapped a coon in the woods he told
what never happened. Coons can’t be
trapped except in one way, and I never
found a coon hunter yet who knew how
it was done.
The coon leaves the coldest scent be-
hind it of any animal that lives, but it
carries the keenest scent in front of it of
any animal. You may track a coon to
his home in the crevice of some rock,
which is a favorite retreat for him. You
may place your trap in front of the hole,
and disguise it as you may, cover it
with leaves a foot deep, if you like, but
that coon will never leave that hole as
long as that trap is there.
starve to death first, as I have proved on
more thin one occasion. He can smell
the iron of the trap, and he seems to
know the danger it threatens him with.
He knows it will be death to leave the | P
hole, and he prefers death by starvation
to being trapped. I have tried iron
traps and snares and all sorts of devices,
but could not succeed in fooling one of
these wise little animals into getting
caught by me, until one day a new idea
struck me. It isn’t oflen you see a coon
in the daytime, unless you know where
to look for them. If there is a creek in
your vicinity in which crawfish are plen-
tiful, you will be likely to discover some
epicurean coon fishing for them, if you
hide at the side of the creek and keep
very quiet. :
The coon is particularly fond of craw-
fish. The way he fishes for them is to
wade in the creek, generally going down
the stream. The crawfish live under the
stones on the bottom. The coon feels
under each stone he comes to with his
fore paws, thrusting one under on one
side and the other on the other side. It
is a comical sight to see a coon fishing
for crawfish. He keeps his head high
in the air, moving it up and down and
to and fro, his eyes evidently gazing at
nothing, every sense seeming to be con-
centrated on the business beneath the
water. You can tell ina second when
he has fastened on a crawfish, for.the ex-
pression en his face changes instantly
from the dull, vacant stare to one of
brightness and animation. He draws
the crawfish out of the water, and, stand-
ing on his hind feet, rolls it smartly be-
tween his paws. This crushes the shell
and claws of the crawfish, and makes
the sweet meat more accessible. The
coon eats his capture with great relish,
and then begins the search for another
one.
While watching a coon fishing in this
way one day I got the new idea of trap-
ping for coons. I thought that by plac-
ing a steel trap under the water in the
creek where coons did their fishing they
could be deceived, and more than likely
caught. I tried the experiment. I
sank two traps at different places on a
favorite crawtfishing route for coons, and
the same afternoon found a coon in each
trap. And that is the only way you
can trap a coon.
I often hear hun'ers talk about smok-
ing coons out of hollow trees where they
havebeen located. If they say they
have done the smoking by burning
straw or leaves or substances of that
kind, I don’t believe them. Coon hun-
tersin western Pennsylvania know by
experience that there is only one thing,
the smoke of which will force a coon to
beat a retreat from his hollow tree. You
may burn leaves or straw till the cows
come home, but you won't get your
coon. You cin hear him sneezing
every little while like a man with the
hay fever, but that is all the effect the
smoke will have on him. If you want
to get your coon by smoking him out of
the tree, you must take what we call a
sulphur match over in western Pennsyl-
vania. The coon hunting sulphur
match is made by melting down a quan-
tity of sulphur in asaucer and saturating
a strip of muslin a few inches long and
an inch cr two wide in it.
When you run your coon into a hollow
tree all you've got to do is to put vour
sulphur match at the bottom of the hole
and light it. It won’t be burning ten
seconds before Mr. Coon will pop out of
his hollow as if he'd been shot from a
catapult, and then if you don’t get him
it’s your fault.
I never read anything about the hab-
its of the coon yet that didn’t say that
the animal lays up stores to subsist on
during the winter, and I never met any-
body who professed to know anything
about coons that didn’t hold the same
thing. A coon depends on stores it col-
lects to see it through winter just about
as much as the bear does, and every-
body knows that the bear goes to sléep
in his hole when the weather drives him
in, and doesn’t generally wake up until
spring, and so he can’t eat much. The
coon does the same thing, except that
he will wake up now and then on some
fine day and take a little stroll through
the country. ‘When he goes to his win-
He will |
ter home he roils himself with his head
between his hind legs, and very close to
his hams, at that, and gives himself up
. to oblivion. "When he comes out in the
| spring he’s as thin as a shadow.. I’ve
| cut down dozens of coon trees in the win-
| ter, and always found the coons in that
| rolled up position, with not a vestige of
anything to eat in the hole. Ifa coon
| comes out on a winter's day and the
{ ground is all covered with snow, he will
! accept the inevitable and walk on the
snow to his destination, but if the snow
| is 1n patches, or lies in scattered banks,
| the coon will follow the leading of the
bare ground around the patches of snow,
keeping shy of allcontact with them, al-
| though such a course may lead him
| miles out of his way. The coon is an
| interesting creature, and is worthy of a
I good deal of study.—Hammondsport
| Cor. New York Sun. :
The Short Line.
If You are, |
|
| Are You Going West ?
Read This.
i The lines of the Chicago, Milwaukee
| & St. Paul Railway ex‘end through Il-
' linoise, Towa, Missouri, Wisconsin, Min-
nesota, South Dakota and North Dako-
ta. The Company owns and operates
"nearly 5.700 wiles of railroad. It has |
i the finest equipments, with all the latest |
‘improvements. Vestibuled trains, heat- |
| ed by steam and lighted with electricity.
| It is the short line between Chicago and
| Council Bluffs, where it connects with
! the Union Pacific and B. & M. R’ys for
points in Nebraska, Colorado, Utah,
| Wyoming, Idaho, Oregon, Washington
land California. It is the oldest and
| shortest line between Chicago and St. |
| Paul and Minneapolis, running through |
| Milwaukee, La Crosse and Winona. At |
| St Paul connections are made with all |
| lines for points in the Northwest. The
| line to Kansas City is known as the
| “National Route.” At this point con- |
| nections are made for points in Kansas,
Colorado, New Mexico, Arizona and |
| California. All ticket agents sell via |
this line, and if you intend going West |
I vou will make no mistake by asking for |
| vour tickets by the Chicago, Milwaukee |
o v a
| & St. Paul Railway. If any informa-
| tion is desired write to John R. Pott,
| Traveling Passenger Agent, Williams-
| port, Pa. Maps and time tables furnish- |
! ed free.
Ia AA AAA
About Pianos.
“Very few know how to take care of
a piano,” said a musical man toa re-
orter who visited his warerooms.
“How do you doit here?’ asked the
scribe.
“Tt is a popular notion that pianos
ought to be kept very dry. Nothing
could be more fallacious. Pianos are
not nearly so much affected by heat or
cold as they are by dryness, and, reverse-
ly, by dampness. It is not generally
known that the sounding board, the life
of a piano, is forced into the case when
it is made so tightly that it bulgessup in
the center, on the same principle as a
violin. The wood is supposed to be as
dry as possible, but, of course, it con-
tains some moisture, and gathers more
on damp days and in handling. Now,
when a piano is put into an overheated,
dry room all this moisture is dried out
and the board loses its shape and gets
| flabby and cracks. Even ifit doesn’t
| crack the tone loses its resonance and
grows thin and tinny, the felt cloth and
leather used in the action dry up, and
| the whole machine rattles.”
“How do you prevent this?”
“Keep a growing plant in your room
and so long as your plant thrives your
piano ought to, or else there is some-
| thing wrong with it. It should be noted
how much wore wate will have to be
poured into the flower pot in the room
where the piano is than in any other
room, In Germany it is the practice to
keep a large vase or urn with a sopping
wet sponge in it near or under the piano
and keep it moistened. This is kept up
all the time the fires are on.”’——New
York Mail and Express.
A Cat That Lives on Canaries.
George Fair, of the Haymarket thea-
ter, says: I have a tiger cat, a pug dog,
seventeen gold fish, and forty canaries.
The dog is the most submissive of the
lot. He has been licked so many times '
that his tail won’t curl. Eversee a pug |
dog with the curl taken out of his tail.
I've got one. But the cat is the boss.
Mors. Fair is very much attached to the
cat. I wanted her to sell the cat, or let
me bring it down here, or kill it—any-
thing to getit out of the house. No,
gir, she wouldn't have it. Said the cat
could stay in the house as long asshe did.
One day she went home and found a lot
of feathers on the fioor, and the cat]
asleep on top of the piano. The cat had
eaten the canary—several canaries. I
said to Mrs. Fair, “[ guess the cat will
go now,” but she said no, For two or
three days we noticed that the cat didn’t
eat anything. He refused beefsteak, |
mutton chops, whipped cream, and all
of the dainties. He had tasted the ca-
nary, and nothing but canary would sat-
isty him. So we are raising canaries
now to appease the cat's appetite. The
dog eats the bones and the crumbs which
fall from his master’s table.—Chicago
Tribune.
Spoiled His Programme.
A thug who was ecently imprisoned
in Idia, having been caught almost in |
actual commission of a murder, com-
lained bitterly to an English officer at
aving been deprived of the opportuuity
to fulfill his ambition. He bad begun
life with the fixed determination to kill
an even thousand human beings, and
at the time ofhis capture was in a fair
way to carry out his design. He had
already killed 700 persons, énd if the
authorities would have let him alone for
quite a little while longer he would
have reached the 1,000 mark. He was
willing to agree to give himself up
again if he were allowed to go free long
enough to bag the additional 3C0 need-
ed, and he thought it a great hardship
that so reasonable a request should be
refused.—San Francisco Chronicle.
All Sorts of Paragraphs.
—Over 5,000 Russians have settled in
and around Kureka, Cal, within a
year.
—One of the visitors at Fortress
Monroe last week was 60 feet long. It
was a whale.
—A competent authority thinks that
the Paris Exposition drew at least $250.
000,000 into Paris.
--Twenty-four sportsmen shot 485
rabbits in the vicinity of Jerseyville,
I1L., the other day.
—Minnows two inches long are said
to have been taken from a 74-foot well
at New Iberia, La.
—An Albany, Vt., man has shipped
to Western markets this year 8,000 tons
of maple sugar, valued at $97,000.
—dJules Millet, a nephew of the cele-
brated French painter, lives in New
York and makes brierwood pipes for a
living.
—The Brazilians are said to form the
largest and richest foreign colony in
Paris. They never haggle over any-.
thing.
—The year 2118, according to the
President of the Manchester Geological
Society, will see the exhaustion of the
English coal.
—GeorgeLedicker caught a monster
spotted snake near Bell fontaine, O. Ttis:
seven feet long, and playtul and harm-
less as a kitten.
—A Salem county, N. J., woman,
past 30 years of age, saw the railroad
and took her first ride in a passenger
train a day or two aco.
—Farmer Harms, of Kent, Kings
coanty, Ore., cut down a cottonwood,
tree last month from which he took 700
pounds of fine honey.
—The largest salmon ever taken from
the Tweed were caught recently. The
weight of four of them were as follows :
43, 44, 48 and 55 pounds.
—Phonographs are to be put in the
postoftices of Mexico, to be used by
persons unable to write, in order to
send messages to friends through the
mails.
—A year ago, in Henderson, Ky.,
Mrs. Mary Beck, aged 64, and ‘Wallis
E. Yanson, aged 24, were married.
The old woman is now seeking a di-
vorce.
—A wealthy man who has been con-
victed of shooting partridges near Laur-
el, Del., and shipping them out of the
State contrary to law, will have to pay
$480 in fines.
—Isaac Harris captured a large bald
eacle near the Lewistown. O., reservoir
Tuesday. The bird isa noble one, and
evinced no fear, but fought bravely
and viciously. It is on exhibition.
—A wealthy Colorado weman says
that the begging letters which have
reached her during the last six weeks
called in the aggregate, fora sum of
money as large as her entire fortune.
—The belle at a recent dog teast on
an Indian reservation in Dakota wore
a jacket trimmed with teeth from 150
elks, which she herself had slain. She
is the grandaughter of the chief of the
tribe.
—The dogs in Birdsboro, Pa., are all
mad As everybody wants a revolver
dealers in weapons are reaping a great
harvest. The citizens have determined
on completely exterminating the canine
population.
—A citizen of Hawkinsville. Ga.,
who was suffering from asthma, was
advised to try a remedy sometimes used
by the negroes. He gota hornet’s nest,
boiled it, made a tea, drank the liquid
and was completely cured.
—A big black diamond picked up in
Brazil is on ‘exhibition in New York.
It looks like a piece of chestnut coal in
the rough, but it would take a good
many tons of coal of any kind to equal
the value of this lump. It weighs 867}
carats, and is worth $5,000.
—An Augusta, Me., whist crank has
occupied his time during the past two
years in the construction of an elegant
whist table on which he hopes to win a
good many rubbers. It consists of 500
pieces of wood, no two of the same size
and of nearly every variety that grows.
—A lately married Belfast, Me.,
| couple cannot be accused of hasty ee-
tion. They were published and the
certificate was issued a year ago, but
the knot was not tied until last Friday.
A young lady who has had experience,
suggests that the bride probably had to
wait for the dressmaker.
—The feat of playing 20 games of
checkers simultaneously and winning
all but one, which was a draw, was ac-
complished by Clarence A. Freeman, in
Providence, R. I., a few days ago.
His contestants were experts from all
over Rhode Island. The play lasted
just 1 hour and 40 minutes.
—A whistling contest, open to young
ladies only, occured at the Congrega-
tional Church in Litchfield, Mich,
Tuesday evening, and the oldest inHab-
itant confessed he never before saw such
a puckering of ruby lips. Miss Pearl
Playford took first prize with an an-
donk quaver that made the windows
rattle.
—Mrs. Bootman, of Hodsick Falls,
N.Y. will be 94 years old on Sunday,
the 15th inst. She is in good health, and
mental activity. She confesses to being
an old, if not a great sinner, and having
been recently converted, will, on her
94th birthday, be admitted to member-
ship in the Methodist Church on con-
fession of faith.
—In Germantown lives a noble
Nimrod who shot for one of his female
friends a crow, and from the day she
received it, stuffed and mounted, she
has been followed by misfortune. She
finally gave it away and the spell was
removed Another girl who moves in
the ‘set’ religiously carries an umbrel-
laof antique design, and she says it is
her mascot.
—George Hardy, a poor hostler, who
plaesd up a lot on the edge ot Bar Har-
or a few years ago for $150 and sold it
for $600, built a livery stable on a half
acre of ground bordering on the site of
the Malvern Hotel. As his stable be-
——Mr. N. Peck—T think if any one
is entitled to a pension it's me.”” Mudge
—You were never in the war, were
you?” Mr. N. Peck—“No; but the
fellow my wife was engaged to got kill-
ed at Shiloh.”’— Terre Haute Express.
came more objectionable to the Mal-
vern’s guests the price of Hardy’s prop-
erty climbed up. He absolutely refused
offers of from $5.000 up as high as $18,-
000, and finally thought he was doing
the Malvern’s owner a great favor when
he sold out for $20,000.
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