Bemocralic; Waldo Bellefonte, Pa., Sept. 16. 1898. DAYS GONE BY. Oh, the days gone by! Oh, the days gone by! The apple in the orchard and the pathway through the rye; The chirrup of the robin, and the whistle of the quail, As he piped across the meadows sweet as any nightingale ; When the bloom was on the clover and the blue was in the sky, And my happy heart brimmed over in the days gone by. In the days gone by when my naked feet were tripped By the honeysuckles’ tangles, where the water lillies dipped. And the ripple of the river lipped the moss along the brink, Where the placid-eye and lazy-footed cattle came to drink, And the tilting snipe stood fearless of the truant’s wayward cry, And the splashing of the swimmer in the days gone by. Oh, the days gone by! Oh, the days gone by! The music of the laughing lip, the lustre of the eye; The childish faith in fairies and Aladdin’s magic ring, The simple, soul reposing, glad belief in every- thing, When life was like a story, holding neither sob nor sigh, In the olden, golden glory of the days gone by. —James Whitcomb Riley. THE BOATSWAIN. A wild place, Aber Fach, even on a sum- mer’s eve, but in a winter storm more ter- rible than death itself. To the east the coast rises to cliffs, and on the slope of the first can just be seen the cottages of Pen- march. Away inland lies Gillestone, hid- den among trees. But here, all around are dismal flats, broken now and again by rough sand dunes covered with long, coarse spear grass, the only thing which can live under the breath of a winter gale. Beyond the flat stretches a broad beach of limestone pebbles. Again, beyond this lie rugged, flat ledges of rock, which only show when the tide recedes, and which spread eastward half a mile. On all this wide, wild expanse stood but one little hut, a thing that had once been a ship’s roundhouse. Some of the ship’s timbers lay about even yet, but this was the only part of her which stood intact. ‘London Tom’s house,’ said my friend the rector. ‘A man lives there 2’ cried I in aston- ishment. “He did a few years ago—a strange old man, full of the ancient superstitions, if they are superstitions, and a wild Metho- dist. In the clerical capacity I was in his eyes tainted with mark of the beast, but as a companion he received me, and I often brought him a little flask of brandy or some small comfort. He was past 80 when he died.” ‘‘But what a place for a man to settle down in !”’ I said. ‘‘Yes ; perhaps so, But he had his own wild reasons. Let me tell you the story here now with the very place before your eyes. Your sea knowledge will make you able to picture the scene and the old man’s tremendous exit. I saw all myself, and even now it awes me to think of it or tell it. It was in 1813, when, as if we had not enough to do with European affairs, we must fight the American States. My old father, rector here before me, had lately sent me up to Jesus college, and I was home for Christmas. What a wild place Oxford was in those days—drinking town and gown riots, badger baiting, cockfight- ing ! but never mind that. “We were so used to howling storms that unless one of our smuggling luggers were expected we seldom took note of weather, but sat snug and let it howl. ‘Wrecks were rare, but when they did oc- cur there was always good chance of plunder, and our coast men were always on the lookout on such nights. This night it was roaring in the chimneys, and the channel drizzle was driving up thick as a hedge. ‘Father and I sat over our mulled port. I heard a shout, then voices calling, then a hurried tramp of footsteps and a Ioud rap- ping at the door, and then, before I could jump up to see who it was, for the maid was abed, in the fellow rushed. Imet him in the hall. It was old Hoel, our man of all work. ‘Master Richard,” he gasped, flicking the wet from his eyes, ‘ship ashore, sir ! Right on Breaksea point, and it's dead low water !”’ *‘I was ready in a moment. We quickly felt our way down the dark narrow lane and came out just where we stand. It was full moon and she was rising. “There was a little crowd looking sea- ward. and soon in the growing light I saw away beyond the beach, past the long stony reef, out in the roaring breakers, a dark patch. Even as I looked came a dark tongue of flame, and the dull thud of their gun'’s report. ‘No help could reach them out there. Half a mile of a raging hell of broken surf divided them from land. We could only stand and look, hazarding opinions as to what she might be. “I heard one ranting smuggler, John Morgans, shout in his fellow’s ear: ‘She will be a ship-o-war, yiss sure! Wass be- cause of her tall spars, look you !”’ ‘‘Any one of us—aye, even the most callous wrecker there—would have risked his life for them joyfully had it been pos- sible. But there wasno risk—any attempt would have been instant death, for the in- coming tide, crawling and thundering along the reef, would have dashed any man to pulp had he ventured there. In half an hour, if she drove far up, we might possibly do something. But would she last ? There was little hope of it. ‘As I stood there with Hoel, staring full face out into the lashing rain and spray, I suddenly heard a bugle call. In the lull of the gale out rang the ‘‘assembly.” The last ‘‘ta-ra’’ swept by like the wail of a fleeing spirit. Hardly had it ended when a wicked squall drove up. When it had passed, when again the moon peered through the flying rack, the dark patch, which was a ship, had all but disappeared in the roaring breakers. And as I still stared seaward came a huge, white wall of foam. It struck her, and when it was swept by she was gone ! In rushed the tide. Many standing there still hoped that some of the poor fel- lows might yet swim to land alive. None of us thought of going home, for even if no men reached the shore salvage might sweep in. ‘Sure enough, presently came a dark object through the white waste of foam. It drove inslowly, now standing stationary a moment as it caught some stone in the reef, now surging inward, and ever swept by the fierce waves. At last it drove right up to the beach, and we all rushed down. ‘It was a huge fragment of the deck, with its roundhouse attacked, and clinging within it were four men, one of whom car- ried a child in his arms. We had them up to the village, the man who had the child coming to my share. ‘Ere we got him into the house he went faint and had to be carried. I took the child, who seemed to bea boy or ten years. The other was a smart looking fellow, with shaven face set in a fringe of black whisker, and with his hair tied in a cue, a fashion which had nearly died out. Round his neck, on a silver chain, hung a bhoat- swain’s whistle. “We put them to bed. Presently, under the influence of warm blankets and hot brandy forced hetween his clenched teeth, the man showed signs of recovery. And. suddenly he started up, shouting : ‘‘Here, sir! Aye, aye, sir 1’ “I did not dream that these were the last words of sanity that he would speak. And yet—I don’t know—the space between sanity and madness is so small that—but you shall judge for yourself. “The story of the wreck we learned from the other survivors. The vessel was the Pique, a corvette ruunning for Bristol with $250,000 in silver taken from a French transport. The gale had driven them out of their reckoning. ‘‘When hope seemed gone, the command- er had ordered him to call all hands aft and the buglers to call the marines. This done, he harangued the crew, telling them that as there was nothing to be done it only re- mained for them to die like British sailors. He then gave Tom charge of his son and ordered him for shelter into the round- house, for the seas were now flying over them. ‘It was sad work burying the poor dead fellows, for 30 bodies washed up, and sad- der to see the pale, weeping, widowed mother who came to the funeral of her lit- tle son. ‘‘But these things passed and left us with Tom. He had taken up his abode in the roundhouse, which had been hauled up above the high water mark, and here he stuck. ‘‘He turned out a mild, harmless man and was a great friend of all our children. The villagers took him under their charge, fitted up his strange dwelling and kept him provided with such simple food as they themselves used. I helped of course. “Presently we learned that he had strange ways. At night, and especially at the full of the moon and in wild storms, he would wander out along the sand dunes, now and again winding his call—the call for ‘All hands’—teeee-wit-it-it-it-it-it-it-it- it teeee—whrr-r-r-r-r—in.” Then he would lift his deep voice, ‘All hands, ahoy I’ ‘‘He became an attender at she little Methodist chapel, and in moments of ex- citement—the only times when he did be- come excited—would declaim against the church, as also he would sometimes do in his talks with me. But we were good friends for all that. More than once I asked him about his nightly rambles. ‘I'm waiting the captain,’ he would reply. He'll come up from yonder one day, and he'll ask me, ‘Tom,’ he’ll say, ‘where is Master Charles?” And who but me can tell him? I shall say : ‘he’s gone on ahead, your honor.’ The Lord High Admiral Christ called him, and he would not wait for us.’ The captain wouldn’t believe no one else. ‘Cause why ? He gave the lad into my charge. But when he sees me he'll know that all’s well, and he’ll know the old Pique’s roundhouse. Dye see ?”’ *‘God seems very tender to such as he. Not a soul round here would have harmed the old man. Even the lads, the wildest, never teased him. ‘One moonlit night something prompted me to go down to the beach and see Tom. He was not in his house, so I wandered along the sand dunes and presently saw him standing motionless on a little hillock. ‘‘He took no notice of my approach, but stood staring out to sea. I spoke, asking, as many times before I had asked, why he stood there. He turned and spoke with even more than his usual solemnity : ‘ ¢ I’ve been called sir, and they told me to get ready, for I should soon have to meet my commander. * ‘Who are they ?’ I asked. ** “Those that sleep down there,’ he an- swered, pointing to where the ship had gone to pieces, ‘those and the others up in the churchyard. When I piped all hands to-night, I heard them answer. And so I know that the captain will soon be coming and he’ll want to know where Master Charles is. Then he’ll want the hands turned up to muster, and I’ll have to be here to call em. ‘“ ‘You don’t know the discipline of a ship-o’-war, sir. When the commander- in-chief calls, we must all answer together smartly. All I'm sorry for is that them jollies won’t have no bugler to blow the assembly for them. Poor chap, he lost the number of his mess with the rest. And yet I don’t know. Perhaps he’ll have his bugle ready—maybe. Anyway they’ll hear me wind my call.’ *“The following night one of the villagers who had been too see Tom, called and told me I was wanted down on the beach by the old man. : ‘‘A gale was rising and wailed mournful- ly in the air. As I walked down the moon rose. As on that terrible night of the wreck it was full. “The old man was waiting and was evidently in a state of excitement. He ave me no greeting, but began muttering, They are calling for me I’ “You wanted me, Tom? I asked at length. ‘‘‘Yes, sir,’ said he. ‘Now that the time has come I feel afraid to meet the commander alone, and somehow I felt I would rather have you than the minister. You’re a gentleman and know what is due to an officer and a gentleman, and I don’t think Christmas Elias (that was his min- ister) is quite used to the quality.’ *“The moon had risen, but was now be- hind a low bank of clouds. The breakers were moaning. It was evident that a storm was approaching. It was nearly low water, and a long stretch of beach and reef lay between us and the sea. “I held back a bit. He paced forward by himself, mounting one of the sandy hillocks. Then he stood, black against the brightening sky. Suddenly his shrill call rang out ; then his hoarse shout, ‘All hands, ahoy !’ ‘* ‘It sent a cold shudder down my back. He turned and beckoned me. ‘* ‘They’re muttering,’ he whispered as Icame up to him. ‘Look! But I saw nothing. ‘Don’t you see ‘em, sir?’ he said, pointing seaward, with staring eyes. ‘‘Just then the moon emerged from the cloud which had overshadowed her and struck the line of breakers, which, glint- ing in her beams, looked now like a row of Shamping, white maned chargers at a alt. ** ‘Captain, I'm here waiting orders I’ *‘ ‘The old man’s voice rang out like a trumpet. He started, then again pointed seaward. “And I—what had come over me? Had his intense spirit compelled me also? I shook with astonishment. In trembling wonder I stared. There, advancing like a wreat of mist across the dunes, came a fig- ure in naval uniform. London Tom seemed to be talking to him. ‘Yes, your honor! All present and sober. Pipedown! Ay, ay, sir.’ ‘‘He wound a call on his whistle, one sharp ‘twit,’ followed by a long whirring note, then fell backward into my arms— dead.’’—Chamber’s Journal. Animals Sham Death. A Clever Fox That Came to Life and Fooled His Captor. Two cases are on record of foxes being discovered in henhouses. In each case the fox not only completely deceived the find- er, but allowed himself to be dragged out by the brush and thrown down, 1n the one case in a field and in the other on a dung- hill. In each instance the fox then jump- ed upand ran away. Another example is that of a fox which dangled across a man’s shoulder as it allowed itself to be carried along a road for more than a mile. At last it bit the man and was promptly dropped. A cat was observed to carry a weasel home in its mouth, the weasel dangling hopeless- ly. The door was closed and the cat, in conformity with its usual habit, mew to gain admission. To mew, however, it had to set down the weasel, which jumped and fastened on its nose. The following instance was observed by the late Prof. Romanes: A corncrake had been retrived by a dog, and, having every appearance of being dead, was put ina man’s pocket. Presently violent struggles were felt and the man drew the bird out. To his astohishment it again hung in his hand limp and apparently lifeless. It was then set upon the ground and watched from behind some cover. Ina short time it raised its head, looked around and de- camped at full speed. A singular fact that must not be overlooked in connection with this phenomenon is that some animals have been found to be actually dead which were at first thought to be shamming. Romanes, for instance, found this to be the case with a squirrel which he had caught in a cloth and with which he wanted to experiment with regard to the feigning of death. Sir E. Tennent also relates in his book on the ‘‘Natural History of Ceylon’’ that the wild elephant sometimes dies when be- ing taken from the corral by the tame elephants. Further, he relates in case in which, being convinced that an elephant was dead, he had its lashings taken off, he and a friend leaning against it the while to rest. Hardly had they left it when it rose hurriedly, and, trumpeting vociferously, rushed off in the jungle. The fact how- ever, that a squirrel or an elephant when captured unhurt will die is sufficient to show that a most powerful nervous de- rangement of some sort is induced. When the late Joseph Thomson lectured on his African experiences he related how the first buffalo he shot tossed him, and how. when he came to himself and tried to sit up, he found his antagonist glaring at him a few yards away. He told how he recollected that a buffalo does not try to toss a creature which shows no signs of life, and how he let his head sink slowly back and lay shamming death. Pheasants, in flying across wide stretches of water, have heen noticed suddenly to fall. In this way they are apparently drowned. It is perhaps dangerous to assert positively that fear is here the active cause of death ; yet we are apparently justified in believing that a paroxysm of fear can produce sudden death. The squirrel and the elephant may have died of fright ; cer- tainly death in man can be produced by sudden fear, and although man has a much more sensitive nervous mechanism, the low- er animals have an extremely active in- stinet of fear. Prof. Lloyd Morgan mentions the case of a surfaceman working in the Seven tunnel who was nearly killed by a train. It is stated that ‘‘his attention was so riveted that he was unable to make, or rather he felt no desire to make, the appropriate movements ;”’ that he could not help watching the train, but felt no terror. With the greatest difficulty he managed to shake himself free of his fascination. In describing his feelings when the danger was past he is reported to have said : “I came over all in cold sweat and felt as help- less as a baby. I was frightened enough then.” This may perhaps be taken as a cataleptic condition without fear.—Seots- mun. Ropes Woven by Spiders. Intended for Use on French Military Buttons. Spiders must now be counted among the necessary helpmates of balloon manufactur- ers. Many experiments made with spider web as a substitute for silk have proved the far-reaching possibilities of the new material. The thread of the spider was found invaluable in the production of so- called reticles, crosses or nets of fine threads placed in the focal plane of telescopes, to determine the exact position of an observed object. Some ten years ago a French mis- sionary started the systematic rearing of two kinds of spiders for their web. Now the Industrie Textile announces that a spider web factory isin successful operation at Chalais-Meudon, near Paris, where ropes are made of spider web in- tended for balloons for the French military ®ronautic section. The spiders are ar- ranged in groups of twelve above a reel, upon which the threads are wound. It is by no means easy work, for the spiders, for they are not released until they have furnished from 30 to 40 yards of thread each. The web is washed, and thus freed of the outer reddish and sticky cover, Eight of the washed threads are then taken together, and of this rather strong yard cords are woven, which’ are stronger and much lighter than cords of silk of the same thickness. These spider web ropes are very much more expensive than silk ones, but it is hoped to reduce their cost somewhat in the future. Stronger Than Oak. Foot bridges in Morocco that are used for heavy traffic have been the subject of much concern to the engineers. Elm planks on oak stringpieces were the materials em- ployed, but these wore out so rapidly that a return to the old style of building was proposed. This consisted of cables made from the fiber of the aloe. These cables are plaited and twisted from fiber and are nearly two inches thick and 8} inches wide. They are saturated with tar and firmly nailed to oak planking. The ends are fas- tened by iron straps. These cables make most admirable footpaths. They are suffi- ciently elastic to be pleasant under the feet, and experience has demonstrated that they are far more durable than any ma- terial heretofore applied for this purpose. The Parting of the Ways. Twice only have the American people been called upon to decide a question of such vital import as that now before them. Is the Republic, the apostle of Triumphant Democracy, of the rule of the people, to abandon her political creed and endeavor to establish in other lands the rule of the foreigner over the people—Triumphant Despotism? Is the Republic to remain one homogeneous whole, one united people, or to become a scattered and disjointed ag- gregate of widely separate and alien races ? Is she to continue the task of developing her vast continent until it holds a popula- tion as great as that of Europe, all Ameri- cans, or to abandon that destiny to annex, and to attempt to govern, other far distant parts of the world as outlying possessions, which can never be integral parts of the Republic? Is she to exchange internal growth and advancement for the develop- ment of external possessions which can never be really hers in any fuller sense than India is British or Cochin-China is French? Such is the portentous question of the day. Two equally important questions the American people have decided wisely, and their flag now waves over the greater por- tion of the English-speaking race; their country is the richest of all countries, first in manufactures, in mining, and in com- merce, (home and foreign, ) first this year also in exports. But, better than this, the average condition of its people in education and in living is the best. The luxuries of the masses in other lands are the neces- saries of life for ours. The schoolhouse and the church are nowhere so widely dis- tributed. Progress in the arts and sciences is surprising. In international affairs her influence grows so fast and forshadows so much that one of the foremost statesmen has recently warned Europe that it must combine against her if it is to hold its own in the industrial world. The Republic re- mains one solid whole, its estate enclosed in a ring fence, united, impregnable, tri- umphant; clearly destined to become the foremost power of the world if she continue to follow the true path. Such are the fruits of wise judgment in deciding the two great issues of the past, Independence and The Union. There are two kinds of national posses- sions, one colonies, the other dependencies. In the former we establish and reproduce our own race. Thus Britain has peopled Canada and Australia with Englisk-speak- ing people, who have naturally adopted our ideas of self-government. That the world has benefited thereby goes without saying; that Britain has done a great work as the mother of nations is becoming more and more appreciated the more the student learns of world-wide affairs. No nation that ever existed has done so much for the progress of the world as the little islands in the North Sea, known as Britain. With dependencies it is otherwise. The most grievous burden which Britain has upon her shoulders is that of India, for there it is impossible for our race to grow. The child of English-speaking parents must be removed and reared in Britain. The British Indian official must have long res- pites in his native land. India means death to our race. The characteristic feature of a dependency is that the acquiring power can not reproduce its own race there. Some of the organs of manufacturing interests, we observe, favor foreign posses- sions as necessary or helpful markets for our products. But the exports of the United States this year are greater than those of any other nation in the world. Even Britain’s exports are less, yet Britain possesses, it is said, a hundred colonies and dependencies scattered all over the world. The fact that the United States has none does not prevent her products and manu- facgurer from invading Japan, China, Aus- tralia, New Zealand, Canada, and all parts of the world in competition with those of Britain. Possession of colonies or dependen- cies is not necessary for trade reasons. If we could establish colonies of Ameri- cans, and grow Americans in any part of the world now unpopulated and unclaimed by any of the great powers, and thus fol- low the example of Britain, heart and mind might tell us that we should have to think twice, yea, thrice, before deciding adverse [1y. Even then our decision should be ad- verse;but there is at present no such question before us. What we have to face is the question whether we should embark upon the difficult and dangerous policy of under- taking the government of alien races in lands where it is impossible for our own race to be produced. Up to this time we have disclaimed all intention to interfere with affairs beyond our own continent, and only claimed the right to watch over American interests ao- cording to the Monroe Doctrine, which 1s now firmly established. This carries with it serious responsibilities, no doubt, which we can not escape. European nations must consult us upon territorial questions per- taining to our continent, but- this makes no tremendous demand upon our military or naval forces. As I write the cable announces the an- nexation of Hawaii, which is more serious, but the argument for this has been the necessity for holding the only coaling sta- tion in the Pacific so situated as to be essen- tial to any power desirous of successfully attacking our Pacific coast. Until the Nicarauga canal is made it is impossible to deny the cogency of this contention. We need not consider it a measure of ogense or aggression but as strictly defensive. The population of the islands is so small that national aspirations are not to be encoun- tered, which is a great matter, nor is it ob- tained by conquest. Tt is ours by a vote of its people, which robs its acquisition of many dangers. Let us hope that our far outlying possessions may end with Hawaii. To reduce it to the concrete, the question is: Shall we attempt to establish ourselves in the Far East and possess the Philippines for glory? Theglory we already have, in Dewey's victory overcoming the power of Spain in a manner which adds one more to the many laurels of the American navy, which, from its infancy till now, hasdivid- ed the laurels with Britain upon the sea. The Philippines have about seven and a half millions of people. composed of races bitterly hostile to one another, alien races, ignorant of our language and institutions. Americans can not be grown there. The islands have been exploited for the benefit of Spain, against whom they have twice rebelled. like the Cubans; but even Spain has received little pecuniary benefit from them. The estimated revenue of the Phil- ippines in 1894-95 was £2,715,980, the ex- pendi’ure being £2,656,026, leaving a net result of about $300,000. The United States could obtain even this trifling sum from the inhabitants only by oppressing them as Spain has done. But, if we take the Phillipines we shall be forced to govern them as generously as Britain governs her dependencies, which means that they will yield us nothing, and probably be a source of annual expense. Certainly they will be a grievous drain upon revenue if we con- sider the enormous army and navy we shall be forced to maintain upon their account. There are many objections to our under- taking the government of dependencies; one I venture to submit as being peculiar to ourselves. We should be placed in a wrong position. If it be a noble aspiration for the Indian or the Cuban, as it was for the citizen of the United States himself, and for the various South American repub- lics once under Spain, to have a country to live, and, if necessary, to die for, why is not the revolt noble which the man of the Philippines has been making against Spain ? Is it possible that the Republic is to be placed in the position of the suppressor of the Philippine struggle for independence ? Surely that is impossible. With what face shall we hang in the school-house of the Philippines the Declaration of our own In- dependence and yet deny independence to them? What response will the heart of the Philippine Islander make as he reads the Lincoln Emancipation Proclamation ? Are we to practice independence and preach in subordination, to teach rebellion in our books, yet to stamp it out with our swords, to sow the seed of revolt and expect the harvest of loyalty ? President McKinley's call for volunteers to fight for Cuban inde. pendence against the cruel dominion of Spain meets with prompt response, but who would answer the call of the President of an ‘‘imperial’’ republic for free citizens to fight the Washington and slaughter the patriots of some distant dependency which struggles for independency. It has hitherto been the glorious mission of the Republic to establish upon secure foundations Triumphant Democracy, and the world now understands government of the people, by the people and for the people. Tires the Republic so soon of its mission that it must, perforce, discard it to under- take the impossible task of establishing Triumphant Despotism, the rule of the for- eigner over the people, and must the mil- lions of the Philippines who have been asserting their God-given right to govern themselves be the first victims of Americans, whose proudest boast is that they conquered independence for themselves? If we are to compete with other nations for foreign possessions we must havea navy like theirs. It should be superior to any other navy, or we play a second part. It is not enough to have a navy equal to that of Russia or of France, for Russia and France may combine against us just as they may against Britain. We at once enter the field as a rival of Britain, the chief possessor of foreign possessions, and who can guarantee that we shall not even have to measure our power against her ? Whether the United States maintain its present unique position of safety or forfeit it through acquiring foreign possessions, is to be decided by its action in regard to the Philippines; for, fortunately, the independ- ence of Cuba is assured; for this the Re- public has proclaimed to the world that she has drawn the sword. But why should the less than two millions of Cuba receive national existence and the seven and a half millions of the Philippines be denied it? From every point of view we are forced to the conclusion that the past policy of the Republic is her true policy for the future; for safety, for peace, for happiness, for progress, for wealth, for power—for all that makes a nation blessed. Not till the war drum is silent and the day of calm peace returns can the issue be soberly considered.— 4 ndrew Carnegie in the North American Review. Cuba and the Sportsman. While Cuba offers such a haven to the invalid, it is a paradise for the sportsman, wild game and fish of all kinds in abund- ance. Parties of gentlemen on horseback, with their pack of hounds, hunt the fleet-footed deer. It is a common thing for a small party to kill eight or ten deer in a day. The wild boar is plentiful, and some- times, if cornered, dangerous, especially the old master of the herd, called ‘‘un soli- tario,”” which will tear a dog to pieces or make a green hunter climb a tree, but a Cuban easily kills him with a machete. The island boar sometimes weighs 200 or 300 pounds, and has huge tusks, often five or six inches in length. The meat of the fe- male is much relished by the natives. Wild dogs and cats, wild cattle, horses, and jackasses abound. But the jutia, peculiar only to Cuba, which looks like a cross be- tween a squirrel with a rat’s tail and a rab- bit, and which lives in the trees and feeds on nuts and leaves, is the great delight of the Cuban. Fowls are in great numbers. Wild guin- ea hens and turkeys are found in flocks of from 25 to 100. The whistle of the quail and the flutter of the pheasant and perdiz are heard on all sides in the rural and mountain regions. Ducks in abundance come over from Florida in the winter and return with the spring. Wild pigeons, with their white tops and bodies of blue, larger somewhat than the domestic bird, offer, in hunting, the greatest sport to gen- tlemen who will be restrained within rea- son. In the early mornings the pigeons generally go to feed on the mangle berries when ripe, and which grow by the sea or near some swampy place. I have known a party of three persons to kill 1,500 of the pigeons within a few hours. Robiches, tofosas and guanaros are found in the thick woods. Mocking and blue birds, orioles, turpials, negritos, parrots, and a thousand kinds of songsters and birds of brilliant plum- age flit from tree to tree. The naturalist Poey says there are 641 distinct species of fishin the Cuban waters. Among those that delight the sportsman are surela, and garfish. The sierra, which weighs from forty to sixty pounds, is ex- tremely game, as is the ronco, so called be- cause it snores when brought out of the water. For heavy sport, fishing for sharks, which are good for nothing, or .the gusa, which weighs from 400 to 600 pounds and is excellent eating, offers abundant exer- cise. It isa daily occurrence to see schools of fish, numbering from hundreds to many thousands, each fish weighing from one to four pounds, swimming around the bays and harbors waiting for a bait. Any American who enjoys good fishing can find his fondest dream more than satisfied in Cuba. Delicious shrimps, crabs and lobsters, oysters and clams abound. The lobsters have no claws and weigh from two to eight pounds. They are caught at night in shal- low places along the sandy beach, a torch, harpoon and net being the necessary out- fit. Some of the rivers abound in alliga- tors, but few hunt them.— Field and Stream. What She Knew About It. A little six-years old girl in Sunday school was asked one morning recently what she remembered of the story about Sampson and the Philistines, whereupon she promptly replied : ‘He sailed into the bay at night and at daylight opened fire on them and sank 11 of their war-ships with the jawbone of an ass. He took some pris- oners who had never seen a razor, bom- barded the town and took up five baskets of fragments. He told them that he would set his bow on the bay so when they saw it they could remember the Maine.” Ee —————— A Little of All Sorts. The barking of a dog on the earth ean be heard by a balloonist at an elevation of four miles. As to the length of life of fish, it is said that the ordinary carp, if not interfered with, would live about 500 years, In a recently patented automatic wagon brake the thills are mounted on movable rods on the front axle, which slide back- ward and apply the brakes as soon as the horse holds back. Sherman county, Ia., has a co-operative hail insurance company. The man whose crops are injured is to receive one bushel of the kind of grain destroyed for each 100 bushels raised by the other members of the company. The fact that the skeleton remnants of elephants are so rarel y found in any part of Africa is explained by an explorer, who states that as soon as the hones have he- come brittle from climatic influences they are eaten in lieu of salt by various ruminant animals. Residents of Gravel Pit, on the Fort Wayne railroad, dissatisfied with the name of the town, wished to revive its original Indian name and call it Mechenemocken- ungoqua. But the railroad company ob- jected and a compromise was arrived at, the Indian name of Winona being chosen. In order to capture fish, Pool states that the natives of Surinam whip the water with the wood of Lonchocarpus violaceus, Bth., a papilionaceous tree which contains a substance having a narcotic action on the fish. The wood, which has a disagreeable odor, is called ‘‘Nekoe’’ by the natives and stinkwood by the European settlers. William H. Gove, of Salem, Mass., with the purchase of his ancestral home at Sea- brook, N. H., came into the possession of several documents, one being a pardon of Edward Gove, who was confined in the Tower of London for rebellion. It was dated 1685, and signed “Sutherland. ’’ and across the top are the words ‘‘James R." and the royal seal. More than $1,250,000 has heen paid in royalties for Moody’s hymns. Ruskin’s 64 hooks bring him in $20,000 a year. Swinburne, who writes very little, makes $5,000 a year by his poems. The population of Palestine is increasing rapidly. Ten years ago there were only 15,000 residents in Jefita ; to-day there are nearly 60,000. It is said that many people in Maine are so offended at the advertisements painted on boards and barns along the country roads that they refuse to deal with the firms which so advertise. When a man walks a mile he takes on an average 2,263 steps, lifting the weight of his body with each step. When he rides a bicycle of the average gear he covers a mile with the equivalent of only 627 steps, requires no force, bears no burden, and covers the same distance in less than one-third the time. G. Godfrey Gumpel, an English scien- tist, having spent 27 years in studying the effects of salt upon the body, is about to publish a hook which he thinks will revo- lutionize certain branches of the medical profession. He attributes diphtheria, apoplexy and various other diseases to a deficiency of common salt in the system. William H. Ferris, an eccentric char- acter who died the other day at Mount Vernon, N. Y., at the age of 97, had not worn an overcoat in the past 70 years. It is said that when a young man the first overcoat he had was stolen from him, and he thereupon vowed never to don another. He also disliked riding on the railroad, and often when he went to New York he walked the entire distance and returned on foot, in all covering 26 miles. The silkworm is liable to over 100 dis- eases. The Japanese language is made up of 60,000 words. Great Britain rules twenty-one of every- one hundred square miles of the earth’s surface. Of the nearly two million inhabitants of Berlin only 42,000 have an annual income of over $750. The total population of Ireland on April 3rd, 1891, was 4,704,750. Of these 3,628, - 562 were Roman Catholics ; about 602,300 Angelicans and 446,687 were Presbyterians. About 127,000 belonged to other sects. In the time of Charles V. Spain had 180,- 000 monks and priests and 60,000 nuns. No fewer than 102 days out of the 365 were holidays, and the 300,000 nobles would have considered it a disgrace to do any useful work to make a living. Twenty-eight motor cycles participated in a race recently between Etampes and Chartres, France. The distance, going and returning, was about 62 miles. “The win- ning vehicle, driven by an eight-horse power motor, with two cylinders, made the round trip in ahout two minutes and ten seconds less than two hours. The speed was 31 2-3 miles an hour. This, it is said, beats the best previous record for road carriages. Formosan rice is so good and so sbun- dant that that islands has earned the title of the ‘granary of China.”” The tea raised on the island goes mostly to America. Other profitable products are sugar, petro- leum, indigo and coal. Killed on the Rail. Last year on American railways one per- son was killed in accidents out of every 2,827,474 persons carried. That is to say, you can take a train, 2,827,474 times be- fore, on the law of average, your turn comes to be filled. You will have to travel 72-, 093,963 miles on the cars before that turn comes, and 4,541,945 before you are injur- ed. If you travel 20 miles every day for 300 days in the year, you can keep on at it for 758 years before your turn comes to be hurt. If there had been railways when the Christian era began, and you had be- gun to travel on the first day of the year A. D. 1, and had traveled 100 miles in every day of every month of every year since then, you would still have, in 1898, nearly three million miles yet to travel before your turn comes to be killed. i —————— A Real Utopia. Dunwich, Moreton bay, Queensland, consists of about 1,000 inhabitants. In four years there have only heen two births and two deaths. There are no streets, no omnibuses or trains, no soldiers, no police, no_ shops. There is a beautiful theater, and everyone is admitted free. Clothes are free, and so are food and lodging. Very few do any work, and there are no hotels. Very little money is required, and medical attendance is free. There is a lockup, but that is not used. There is also a postoffice, and if short of money the letters are stamped free. There is also a free hospital and library.— London Tit-Bits.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers