Demorraiic atc
Bellefonte, Pa., June 26, 1891.
Pe nme
BEYOND THE®GATES.
Harriet Mabel Salding, in Christian Intedli-
aecner.
Semetimes in dreams I see it,
This city fair and grand ;
Its doors of Jasper brightness
Stand forth on either hand,
*Twas here the pilgrim tarried,
And here good cheer awaits
The weary one who enters
At the opening of the gates.
Each window is an opal
With hues born of the noon,
Through which rich perfumes wander,
Caught from the air of June,
And here are sandals waiting
In which the weary feet,
New shod in royal splendor,
May roam the shining street.
Oh, City of the Beautiful,
Could weaking hearts forget
The dens where the lilies
Like crystal flakes were set?
Where heaven's doves in sunshine
Like rainbows went and came ?
Where the sun woke swathed in azure,
And died on fields of flame ?
Here, too, ara fountains playing
To cheer this heart of thine,
And meadows lush with violets
And winds as rich as wine; ;
While each thing glad and beautiful
The loving soul awaits
When once the veil is rended,
And we stand within the gates.
Dear City of the Holy,
For the walks of palm I long ;
For the love that maketh lovely,
For the faiili that maketh strong,
For thy green and growing cedars,
Thy lakes of silvery caim,
For thy peace past comprehension
That floods thine isles of balm.
Take Thou my hand, my Saviour,
The way is dark and wild.
Far off, a star, the city shines,
It beckons on thy child." E
Joy ! joy! then, come, the beautiful !
A myriad host awaits
And heaven refulgent floods my soul
At the widening of the gates.
S—————————————
A DEAD SHOT.
In the summer of 1874, when Mar-
tin G. Scott wasa-much slimmer, more
dandified looking man than he is now,
there were seated at one of the little
round marble tables before the Cafe
Ricci, in the Boulevard des Italiens, in
Paris, two young Frenchmen,the cheek
of one of whom bore a red mark as if
some one had brought his hand sharp-
ly against it. In an inner room of the
cafe the person who had done this was
engaged in wiping away from his shirt
front the stains of some red wine which
in his fury the recipient of the slap had
hurled across the table. The man with
the red cheek was the young Adolphe
Ferrier, the son of the celebrated artist
of that name. The man with the soil-
ed shirt front was Martin G. Scott, of
Mobile, Ala.
There had been an exchange of cards.
and Scott and his friend George E-
Wainwright, twelve hours later sud,
denly found themselves with a large
sized, healthy French quarrel on their
hands to be settled, as most of those
matters are in France, under the code.
When it came to a choice of weap-
ons -Scott had wisely chosen pistols,
for, while he was a notoriously bad
shot, he was totally ignorant of the use
of the rapier.
The affair was to come off at Au-
vergue, a little village distant about
nine miles from Paris, in forty-eight
hours’ time. The parties were to go
out on the early train.
I doubt if Scott was so much cut about
the affair as Wainwright, even though
he fully expected to be killed. Wain-
wright kept on blaming himself for
+ having let his {riend get into such a
scrape. It wasto be no child's play.
They were to fire at twelve paces, and
to continue firing until one of the parties
was disabled.
The more Wainwright thought over
the affair the more he realized what an
awkward job he had upon his hands.
He lay awake all night at his hotel,
revolving some plan by which they
could get out of the scrape. He had
frequently seen Ferrier practicing at a
fashionable pistol gallery in the Rue
du Capucines. He knew that he spent
the best part of every evening there in
ringing the bell on the target, to ac-
complish which feat, as every one
knows, it is necessary to hit the bull's
eye. Wainwright arose early with the
plan fully thought out.
“Come,” he said to Scott, ‘we
haven't too much time before us, We
must go down to Maupassant’'s gallery
and get some practice, You stay here
and have some breakfast. Idon’t care
to eat so early. I'll run down there
and see if we can’t get the gallery all
to ourselves for a couple of hours.”
“That will be pretty costly, won't
it 2” hazarded Scott.
“Not more than a decent coffin and
all the other funeral fixings,” replied
Wainwright with some little sarcasm.
“If possible I want to throw those ex-
penses on the other fellow.”
Wainwright jumped into a cab and
dashed off to the Gallery Maupassant,
where tor upward of half an hour he
remained closeted with its proprietor.
“It’s agreed, then,” said Wainwright
at the conclusion of the interview.
“Now, then, M. Maupassant, there are
250 francs down. The remainder of the
500 you get if the duel doesn’t come
off}
“Agréed,” said the Frenchman, and
he sat down and wrote at least twenty
letters like the following. :
“M. Maupassant requests the plea:
sure of your company to-morrow after-
noon at 3 o'clock to witness the pheno-
menal shooting of an American gentle
man, who has kindly consented to give
an exhibition of his skill at that hour.”
While M. Maupassant was thus
engaged Wainwright put in half an
hour making sundry purchases, return-
ing with them to the gallery, where
the next hour was profitably employed
by him in company with an ingenions |
mechanic.
Meantime, as the idea grew upon
the mind of M. Maupassant, he chuck-
led and wrote, extending his invita-
tions, until, if one-half of them were
accepted, the question was would there
be standing room in the gallery ?
“We must certainly go down and see
this American shoot,” said M. Fer-
rier’s second. “You may find some of
his tricks useful to you at Auvergne to-
morrow ?”7
M. Ferrier, whose courage was not
of the 5-o’clock-in-the-morning kind,
shivered slightly, though the weather
was decidedly warm. He |
“I wish that fellow had chosen rapi-
ers,’ he muttered. “These Americans
are such devils with the pistol.”
It was 3 o'clock in the afternoon.
M. Maupassant’s gallery was crowd-
ed. M. Ferrier had an excellent seat.
He sat talking with his friend and sec-
ond: He had been drinking somewhat
to keep his courage up, and his voice
could be heard all over the room. With
a Frenchman's love of gossip, his sec-
ond had talked freely of the meeting
of the morrow.
As the American had not yet come
a dozen voices called on Ferrier to step
down and get some practice and amuse
the company at the same time.
Ferrier, who was a really good shot,
was not a little proud of it, and with
such an audience he was not slow to
avail himself of the opportunity thus
afforded of displaying his skill.
Throwing off his coat he stepped
down on to the floor of the gallery, and
picking up a pistol marked two bull's
eyes in rapid succession.
His third bullet went just above,
however—an inch at least to the right.
“Your pistol is a little heavy on the
trigger, monsieur,” said a voice behind
him.
Turning quickly,he recognized Wain-
wright, who was standing quietly by, a
smile full of meaning in his blue eyes,
as Ferrier, quite disconcerted now, fired
again and missed for the second time.
At this moment a side door in the
gallery opened, and scrupulously at-
tired and holding in either hand a long
dueling pistol of American manufacture
came Scott, who being introluced to
the audience, bowed, while M. Mau-
passant, said :
“Monsieur Scott has kindly consent-
ed to give us an exhibition with the
pistol.”
Mr. Scott bowed again, and so much
was the attention of the audience rivet-
ed upon him that no one noticed Wain-
wright standing quietly against the
wall, feeling cautiously with his hands
behind him for a small, round, white
object.
Mr. Scott bowed once more profound-
ly to his distingniched audience. Es-
pecially did he extend his salutation to
that portion of the room where, pale
as death,now sat the thoroughly alarm-
ed M. Ferrier, and who in the redoubt-
able American marksman had recogniz-
ed the man he had insulted at the Cafe
Ricci.
“1 will now give you an imitation,”
said Scott, in an ofthand manner, “of a
western cowboy practicing on the head
of a ten-penny nail at fiity paces. I
I will fire first at the large bull's eyes,
80 as to get my hand in.”
He lifted the two long duelling pistols
and fired from them alternately,pulling
the triggers like lightning. Above the
noise of the explosion could be heard
the tinkling of the bells as each bullet
struck fair and square in the center.
When the smoke cleared away not a
mark was visible on the white portion
of the target. He had firea twelve
shots and eyery bullet had struck the
bull’s eye.
Scott turned and bowed modestly to
his audience in acknowledgment of a
vociferous round of applause.
As before, he looked over to the seat
occupied by M. Ferrier. The }rench-
man’s face looked more anxious than
ever, and he exchanged hurried whisp-
ers with his second.
“I'll now show you, gentlemen,” con-
tinued Scott, “a somewhat more diffi:
cult feat.”
He took a pistol and threw it toward
the ceiling, and,catching it in his hand
as it descended, pulled the (rigger.
A loud ringing of the bell announced
that the bullet had again struck the
bul"s eye.
“Mon Dieu !"” whispered Ferrier,who
was now in a clammy sweat through
fear. “He will drop me at the first
shot.”
Scott now teok a small Winchester
rifle from the hands of M. Maupassant,
and, placing it over his shoulder,turned
his back to the target and faced a large
mirror where the same was reflected.
Starting from the firing point and
walking slowly toward the mirror, he
fixed his eye steadfastly upon the re-
flection of the target and rapidly work-
ed the crank of the Winchester. As
befpre, every one of the sixteen bullets
struck the bull's eye, and the bell was
ringing almost continuously.
A perfect hurricane of applause now
shook the gallery. M. Maupassant
smiled all over, and several! French
gentlemen left their seats and crowded
around the American, offering their
congratulations at the marvelous skill
which he had displayed.
Among the latter was the second of
M. Ferrier. !
“Of course we shall meet you, M.
Scott,” he said, “but I trust you will
spare us. Nobody has a chance who
stands up before you.”
He was evidently as much frightened
as his principal.
Now was Wainwright's opportunity.
He stepped forward and said to the
little geoup :
“Gentlemen, can’t this matter be
patched up in some way? You see the
kind of a shot my friend is. He hates
to take life,”
“I'll see what I can do,” said M.
Ferrier's second eagerly, and he dived
over to his principal.
“Well, if you won't apologize you're
an idiot. This time to-morrow you
will be in the hands of the undertaker.
I tell you T'll have nothing to do with
the murder.”
This settled poor Ferrier. Choking
down his humiliation, he stammered
out:
“Well, you may apologize for me if
you like. It's a dreadful thing to do.
but I suppose I must. I certainly can’t
afford to die at my age, and with my
prospects ; but I shall never hold up
my head at the club again.”
Ferrier’s second then tendered a
handsome apology to Scott, who, with
a magnanimity which provoked ap-
plause. thereupon immediately apolo-
gized also, which so zffected M. Fer-
rier that, afier the fashion of his coun-
trymen, he would have thrown himself
on M. Scott's breast and wept.
And thus was the duel between M.
Scott and M, Ferrier neatly averted by
the ingenuity of M. Wainwright.
M. Maupassant was a distinct gainer
by the hoax, for in addition to the
splendid reputation 1t- gave his gallery,
he immediately received the remaining
250 francs from M. Wainwright. The
electric bell, wire and batteries which
Wainwright had purchased that morn-
ing, and with the aid of the ingenious
mechanic put in such admirable work-
ing order, were also given by Wain.
wright to the worthy proprietor of the
gallery, who instantly disposed of the
whole outfit for cash, even to the little
button which Wainwright had pressed
so efficiently every time his friend Scott
fired off his blank cartridges.
And Scott!
Well, he was the hero of Paris for
at least a fortnight, and was pointed out
on the boulevards as the greatest shot
in the world. His popularity continu-
ed until a ballet dancer in black skirts
caught the public fancy and cut him
out. And thus it is ever with “the
bubble reputation.”’— Austyn Granville
in Romance.
An Animated Scarecrow.
Farmer Alanson T. Groff, of Forest
Lake township, a Scranton correspond-
ent says, placed an effigy of himself in
sundown three crows alighted on the
scarecrow’s hat and sat there for sev-
eral minutes. Dave Holcomb saw the
operation, and the sight of the three
black rascals on top of his employer's
old hat tickled Dave immensely. The
boldness of the crows displeased the
farmer, and he took Dave to task for
being tickled about it. Dave retorted
by declaring that Mr. Groff might as
well stick a feather in the ground and
expect to keep the crows out of the
cornfield with it as to set his own image
up out there, and the discussion be-
came so hot that Dave finally offered
to bet the farmer a gallon of whisky
that he could fix himself up and stand
where the scarecrow was until at least
two crows came and alighted on his
hat.
Farmer Groff snapped at the bet at
once,and the next morning Dave donn-
ed his bestsuit of clothes and took the
| scarecrow’s place in the cornfield. The
[image was taken to the barn, and Dave
pulled an old slouch hat over his eyes,
stuck his hands in his pockets, braced
his back against a post, and waited for
the crows to come around and make
themselves familiar with him. It was
a holiday for the farmer, and while
Dave was posing he sat on his porch,
watched Dave every minute, and scan-
ned the sky for crows. Not a crow
came near the cornfield during the fore-
noon, and when Dave adjourned for
dinner he said he hadn’t been so hun-
gry in a dog's age.
Dave took an hour's nooning and
then started in again. Farmer Groff
kept an eye on him, and a little after 4
o'clock he saw a flock of crows sail out
of a piece of woods and alight on the
cornfield fence. They looked at Dave
a spell, and then the whole flock arose
in a body and settled down around him.
Pretty soon three of them flew up and
perched on Dave's shoulders, and when
they had sat there for a minutes or so
Dave reached up and caught one of
them by the legs, All the other crows
flew away in a hurry when they saw
their companion fluttering and squal-
ling in the scarecrow’s hand, and Dave,
who said he had never been so tired
in his life, marched to the house with
his noisy bird and took a swig of the
bet he had won.
IAEA AE
The Philosophy of Bathing.
The first and common object of the
bath is cleanliness. The great impor-
tance of abstersion, and the necessity of
keeping the skin clean and its moral ac-
tivity will be more fully appreciated
when we consider the importance of the
function which the skin has to perform.
One-third of all the morbid matter in
the system arising from tissue change is
thrown off through the skin, the other
two-thirds being excreted by the kidneys
and lungs.
The excretion through the skin is ac-
complished by the action of about two
and a half millions of little sweat glands.
Each of the glands is surrounded by a
plexus of blood vessels, and has a duct
extending to the surface, the average
length of which is about one fourth of
an inch. The aggregate length of these
ducts as computed is about ten miles.
Think ofit! A system of human sewer-
age ten miles in extent! The deleter-
ious effect upon the organism caused by
a stoppage of this great system of drain-
age will be perceived ata glance. The
effete matter of the body, which in a
state of health is excreted by the skin,
nature now endeavors to get rid of
through the kidneys and lungs.
For the purpose of cleanliness the hot
bath will be found to be of great service.
Friction of the body with soap will aid
in dissolving and removing the accumu-
lated matter which fills the mcuths of
the little ducts, and leaves them open
and free for the egress of the natural se-
cretion.
et RTE —
INcoMPETENT.-—‘I have sent for you,
doctor,’ said a lady, anxiously, ‘lo see
if you can tell me what to do for my
poor little canary. He mopes, and—"
“1 am not a bird doctor, madam,” in-
terposed the physician, with proper pro-
fessional dignity.
“Don’t know anything about the dis-
eases of canaries ?
“Most emphatically I do not.”
“Well, you really must excuse me
then, doctor,” she said, “if I call in a
more experienced physician. I think a
great deal of my bird, and must do the
very best I can for him.”
—The growth of population and area
in London is marvelous. A recent re-
turn shows that the metropolis com-
tion of fiye and a half millions.
his cornfield the other day, and before.
Found By His Family.
All'doubt as to the identity of the
poor, half-demented old soldier, the pa-
thetic story of whose wanderings from
cor house to poor house since he was
reported killed at the battle of Shiloh
has been told in the newspapers, has
now been cleared up. | it
Though his faithful old wife and
other relatives felt sure they recognized
him as William Newby, his own mem-
ory was very weak and indistinct at
first. There were neighbors, too, who
doubted still that the veritable William
Newby had coine back. They had cause
to doubt when they thought of the long
dead seldier lying in the Shiloh trenches
and accounted for on the army records
as William Newby. They had deeper
cause to doubt when they saw the
strange wreck claimed to be William
Newby leok into the faces of his wife
and children and mutter sadly: “Ido
not know you. I was never married.”
But on Saturday, says a recent letter
from Mills Shoal, I11,, to the New York
World, the awakening came. Standing
opposite his white haired wife, with her
voice still sound in his ears and the fam-
iliar scenes of his boyhood spreading be-
fore his eyes, memory returned to Wil-
liam Newby in a flash.
“Pheb,” said the poor, old wreck,
calling his dear wife by the dear name
he had murmured in farewell thirty
years betore, “I know you now. You
are my wife and I have come home to
you and the children.”
And the faithful woman who had
been waiting hopefully, but tearfully,
for such a recognition,burst out sobbing
and threw her arms around her hus-
band’s neck.
“I knew you the very moment I set
eyes on you, William,” she cried. “I
would have known you anywhere."
On Sunday last there was a big din-
ner at the Newby farm. The entire
Newby family was there. During the
progress of the meal the old man laid
down his knife and fork, and looked
long and earnestly at his wife.
«I declare, Pheb,’’ he said, “I don’t
believe you've changed a bit since the
day I left you to go to the front. It
must have been the fault of my old eyes
that I didn’t know you at first.”
During the days following the sudden
return of memory Newly had evinced
the most insatiate curiosity as to the life
of his family in the many years of hisab-
sence, seeking to trace a resemblance be-
tween the children of 1861 and the mid-
dle aged men and women 1891. He was
especially interested in hearing how his
wife had “managed” as a widow, and
whether his loved ones had known
“hard times’ while he was wandering
half-witted and helpless.
Mrs. Newby is still hardly able to talk
of her husband’s homeless wanderings
without tears.
“I can stand all the story well
enough,” she said, ‘except when T
think of his having been in the White
County Poorhouse right here, three
miles from his own home, for eighteen
months before we found him. That
seems cruel almost.”
“And its the poorest poorhouse I
struck in all my experience,” said New-
by, laughing, “even if it is in my own
county.”
It transpires that about two years ago
Newby drifted through his native coun-
ty. Within two miles of his own home
his own nephew took the pitiful-looking
tramp into his house and gave him a
good dinner. Newby told his wife of
this Sunday, adding:
“And you know, Pheb, everything
seemed so familiar to me then, but some
how or other I couldn't straigten it out,
and 1 went away just like a stranger.”
Newby is now able to tell a lucid
story of what happened to him after he
fell at Shiloh. He was first shot in the
leg and then in the head, the latter
wound rendering him unconscious.
‘When he again knew what was going
on he was a prisoner on the way to An-
dersonville:
en from the field the very night of the
ficht. After his release from Anderson-
ville came the long years of half-crazed
wandering and poorhouse existence.
Finally, just how long ago Newby can-
not remember, there crept into his mind
a feeling that he must “get back to Illi-
nois.”
It is now known that the dead soldier
lying in the trenches at Shiloh, for thir-
ty years, thought to be Newby, is the
missing Hy Morris, of company C, For-
tieth [llinois Volunteers. His mystery
has been cleared with that of William
Newby.
Table Linen Hints,
Do not use a table cloth a whole week
or a napkin after its freshness is gone,
Soiled tablelinen spoil the daintiest dish.
es. If Idid not know that scores o-
housekeepers, with plenty of money forf
household expenses, are absolutely stingy
in regard to the use of tablecloths, I
would not dare to writa these lines.
Think of a wife not denying her family
any delicacy of the season and sending
many superfluous articles each week to
the laundry, yet compelling her family
to sit aiound a soiled table cloth five or
six days of the week, and providing only
one or two napkins for seven days. It
seems incredible, but I know it to be
true.
Even in ‘small families the cloth
should be changed two or three times a
week and the napkins once every day or
two at least.
The table linen should be ironed until
perfectly dry, and folded lengthwise
with the edges even.
Table linen should be hemmed by
hand. It looks more dainty, and there
is no streak of dirt under the edge after
laundering.
mc ———
A Rooster’s Fast,
Some two weeks ago Mrs. Martha
ter and, she purchased another. One
evening about two weeks latter Mrs.
and seeing a box near the coop detur-
mined to first put it in the dry, that it
might be used when occasion required.
On picking up the box she was sur-
prised to find the lost rooster, for Sir
had lived on corn by the bushel.
fourteen days.
rises 700 square miles and a ypopula-
F q 1 |
tilted add imprisoned him like Genevra
in the chest. Bis. age fin mms _
Forsythe missed a favonte Cochin rovs- |
his way through an cld celery trench,
and stepping on the box it had over- that out?
He found he had been take |,
Forsythe went out to lock up the coop | yrinisteri
|
Chanticleer stepped out as gayly as if he |
The | the room full ot flies to-day ?
i chicken had not had a grain of corn for |
He had been picking | all appear of the f emule persuasion.
Four Girls of Sprit.
They Severely Trouncea Fellow for Say-
ing a Mean Thing.
The little village of Bartlett, twelve
miles. from Memphis, has not yet ceas-
ed discussing a sensational scene that
occurred there on Thursday evening, in
which four of the leading village belles,
with long switches in their hands, ad-
ministered to a well-known young man
a severe chastisement for certain re-
ports said to hove emanated from him.
The young mau iu the case is Robert
Yates, who lives at Bartlett, and uatil
a short time ago was employed by the
Tennessee Paper Company in Memphis.
His parents are of the highest respec-
tability, and he has stood high both at
Bartlett and Memphis. The young
ladies who covered themselves with
glory are Misses Hanson (daughter of
Judge Hanson, formerly of Shelby
county), Lillie Smith, Josie Smith, and
Mattie King. They are pretty and
bright.
It had come to the ears of the ladies
that young Yates had made a statement
to the effect that he could successfully
assail the virtue of any lady in Bart.
lett, with the exception of two or three.
This remark was reported to have
been made in the presence of some
boys, who conveyed it to the ladies.
The four girls concerned determined to
take the matter of punishment into
their own hands without consultation
with their male relatives, and they laid
a plan to encompass the desired end.
Yates came to Memphis on Thurs.
day, and was due to return to Bartlett
in the evening about 5 o'clock. The
girls were in waiting for him when he
alighted from the train, each armed
with a stout switch. He had not pro-
ceeded far from the depot when they
surrounded him, One seized him,
while the others belabored him with
their switches. He toreaway from his
captors, but was seized agaiu before he
had gone but a few steps by a boy,who
held him until the girls had given him
a terrible thrashing. They grasped
their switches by the slender end and
laid the heavy end on his face, arms,
and back until he cried for mercy. The
girls were there for punitive, not cau-
tionary purposes, and they did not
desist until they had accomplished their
object: The scene was witnessed by
half the population of Bartlett.
IIE
Deepest Hole in the World.
One of the most important scientific
explorations into tho depths of the
earth ever undertaken will be carried
out near Wheeling, under the joint aus-
pices of the United States Government
and the city of Wheeling.
Some months ago the Wheeling De-
velopment Company began drilling a
well near that city in search of oil or
gas. It was determined to bore as far
as possible. The hole has already
reached the depth of 4,100 feet, within
500 feet of the deepest well in the
world. In this distance a dozen of
thick veins of coal have been passed,
oil and gas both sturck, bat not in pay-
ing quantities, and gold, quartz, iron,
and many other minerals found. The
hole is eight inches in diameter and the
largest of any deep well in the world.
The other day Profzssor White,State
Geologist, arrived from Washington,
where he had succeeded in getting the
Government Geological Survey officers
interested in the exploration, and the
result is that the hole will be drilled to
a depth of one mile. Then the Gov-
ernment will take up the work under
the direction of two expert officers of
the Geological Survey and drill into the
earth as tar as human skill can pene:
trate.
The idea is to take the temperature
and magnetic conditions as faras possi-
ble, and by means of an instrumcnt
constructed for the purpose, a com-
plete record of the progress and all dis-
coveries made will be kept and will be
placed in the Geological! Survey exhi-
bit at the World's Fair.— Philadelphia
Press.
The First Martyr of the Revolution.
All of the school histories and
popular text-books give us to under-
stand that on April 19, 1775, at Lex-
ington, Mass., the first blood of the
American war of independence was
shed. Within the last few years his-
torians, who have been giving the mat-
ter much attention, claim Westminster,
Vt., as the scene of the first tragedy in
that memorable conflict and one Wil-
liam French as the victim. Vermont
at that time was a part of New York.
The people of the Vermont district
were badly worked up over the royalist
question, and had decided not to allow
the regular session of the King’s court
to be held in Westminster that spring.
Accordingly, when the court officers
were sent they were accompanied by a
body of royal troops; The people were
exasperated, and assembled in the
Court House to resist. When the
court officials and troops arrived orders
were given for the people to vacate the
room. This they refused to do, when
the troops of George [{I. crossed the
| grounds and fired into the little band
| of patriots, “wounding some,” the ac-
counts say, “and instantly killing Wil-
liam French, who was shot clean
through the head with a musket bail.”
French was buried in the chureh-
yard at Westminster, and a stone with
the following inscription was erected
to his memory :
“In memory of William French,
Who Was Shot at Westminster, March |
ve 12th, 1775, by the hand of the Cruel
al tools of George ye 3d at the
Court House at 11 o'clock at Night, in
| the 23 year of his Age.—St. Louis Re-
| public.
Must BE Lappy Fries.—She--Isn’t
He— Very full, and what's odd, they
She (astonished )—How do you make
He¢—Don’t you notice how the most
of them ate sitting on the looking glass?
ET a |
Curious Facts About Seas. |
If the Mediterranean Were Lowered
660 Feet Italy Would Join Africa.
St. Louis Republican.
The oceans and seas are ihe great ras-
ervoirs into which run all the rivers of
the world. Ttis the cistern wiich fi-
nally catches ali the rain that falls, not
only upon its own surface, but upon the
land as well. All of this water is remov-
ed again by evaporation as fast asitis
supplied, it being estimated that every
yeara layer of the entire water surface
of the globe, over fourteen feet thick, is
taken up into the clouds to fall again as
rain.
The vapor is fresh, of course, and if
all the water of the oceans could be re-
moved in the same way and none of it
returned it is calculated that there would
be a layer of pure salt 230 feet thick left
in the bottoms of these great reservoirs.
This is upon the supposition that each
three feet of water contains one inch of
salt, and that the average depth of all
oceans is three miles.
At the depth of 3,500 teet the temper-
ature is uniform, varying but a trifle be-
tween the poles and equator. In many
of the deep bays on the coast of Norway
and other Arctic countries the water of-
ten begins to freeze at the bottom
before it does ai the surface. At the
same depth, 3,500 feet, waves are not
felt. Waves do not travel--that is the
water does not move forward, although
it seems to do so ; it remains stationary!
It is the rising and falling that moves
on.
The pressure of the water increases
rapidly with the depth. At a distance
of one mile the pressure is reckoned at
about one ton to the square inch, or
more than 143 times the pressure of the
atmosphere.
To get correct soundings in deep water
is difficult. The best invention for that
purpose is a shot weighing about thirty
pounds, which carries down a line.
Through the shot or “sinker” a hole is
drilled, and through the hole is passed a
rod of iron, which moves easily back and
forth.
At the end of the bara cup is dug
out, the inside being coated with lard.
The bar is made fast to the line, a sling
holding the shot in position. When
the bar, which extends below the shot,
touches the bottom the sling unhooks
and the shot slides downward and drives
the lard coated cup into the bottom. In
that way the character of the ocean’s
floor is determined.
If the surface of the Atlantic waslow-
ered 6,565 feet it would be reduced to
exactly half its present width. If the
Mediterranean wete lowered 660 feet
Italy would be joined to Africa and
three separate seas would remain.
Consultation at Sea.
A certain physician in a large New
England town had acquired an un-
enviable reputation for making his bills
as large as possible without much re-
gard to the state of his patient's purses.
There persons who furthermore said that
it really seemed as if there were ‘‘visits”
on his bills which never had existence
anywhere else.
But he was a skilful physician, and
his tendency to overrate his services on-
ly served to amuse some of his patients
who had plenty of money, and were not
especially sharp in looking after it.
“Why,” said one man to another,
speaking of the doctor, ‘he brought my
daughter Jennie up trom an attack of
pneumonia, when two other physicians
hadsaid there was no hope for her; but
when she was quite well again he charg-
ed me with three calls he made, to in-
quire in a friendly way how she was
getting on !”
£That seems a little forced,” admitted
the other man, “but it’s nothing com-
pared with the experience I had with
him, at the seashore a year ago. We
happened to be in bathing at the same
time one day, and I swam up to him,
and inquired for his wife.
¢« «She’s very well,’ said the doctor.
+t ‘And your daughters ?’ I asked.
“(They're perfectly well, both of
them,” replied he, rather shortly, I
thought. So I said, ‘I'm delighted to
hear it; remember me to them,’ and
swam away.
“And what do you think I received
from him a week or two later? An
itemized bill—one item
«To consultation at sea, five dol-
lars!’ 2
Although no one has ever seen that
bill, the story clings to the doctor’s
name to this day, after a lapse of many
years.
ETC ECE
He Wants to Be Saved from His Friends.
“Why de T keep my proposed trip to
Europe so secret ?” repeated a man
whose circle of friends is larger than
coramon to a person who had asked him
the question. “Well, to tell the truth,
because IT want to escape being made a
purchasing agent for a dozen or two of
people whom I know. Whenever they
learn that I am about to go abroad they
overwhelra me with commissions of all
kinds. One man wanis a photograph
of a certain tower of the castle at Heid-
ellerg; another wants a peculiar kind
of a match-safe, which may be bought
at certain shop in Paris; still & third is
| anxious to have a few London neckties,
| and others want umbrellas, sticks, opera
| gla ses, cigar holders, jewels or some-
i thing else.
“It's a nuisance in the first place to
i buy these things, especially as you are
{ likely to be in a harry at times. Then
when you arrive back in New York you
are likely to have trouble with the cus-
toms officials, because your {friends al-
ways expect you to get their articles in
| duty free. Besides, no one ever pays
| you in advance, and you have to go
| around dunning the people. To cap
| the climax, you often buy things that do
not suit the persons who have asked the
| favor of you, and their disappointed
| looks or words make you feel unpleasant
| to say the least. Consequently, having
| been through these experiences several
[ times, I now keep my intended depar-
| ture as secret as possible.”
{ Tue Usvan TuiNg.--DeBull—De
| Lamb has just made $10,000 by a sud-
| den turn of the market, and is down
town whooping things up lively.
{ DeBear—Intoxicated with joy, I sup-
pose ?
DeBull— No, thesame old stuff.
RE ——_———..