N——
Keep My Memory Green.
My feet approach life's western slope,
Above me bend the noonday skies;
Beyond me spreads the realm of hope,
Behind the land of memory lies.
1 know not what the years may bring
Of dangers wild or joys serene,
But turning to the east, I sing,
“ Lord, keep my memory green.”
Oh, land of winter and of bloom,
Of singing bird and moaning pine,
Thy golden light, thy tender gloom,
Thy vales and mountains all are mine;
Thy holy loves of other years
With beck ning hands toward me lean,
And whisper through their falling tears,
“ Lord, keep my memory green,”
I ———————
“ Perhaps.”
Inwoodland ways nowstrangied with the
mow
The blue, sweet violets will soon be spring
ing,
The golden-headed aconites will blow,
And in the meadows robins will be singing.
And my heart answered me, Perhaps
Or, if not then, when strawberries are red,
And flag flowers stand among the blowing
rushes,
When roses bloom, and in the trees o'erhead
There is a dreamy melody of thrushes,
My teot again the mossy turi shall tread;
And my heart answered me, * Perhaps!”
Or, better still, I'll sail the windy sea,
ing,
And le "mid broken lights, and sea-drift tree,
ringing —
Yes, oceanwand, ¥when summer comes, I'll
flee;
And my heart answered me, * Perhaps!
Qh, heart, I said, thine is the weariest way;
Why wilt thou ever d senchant to-morrow
.
Time is so nigeanily with each to-day,
Surely "ts well from future days to borrow
Art thou afraid such draits will be to pay?
And my heart answered me, * Perhaps!”
Then "mid man's fretful dwellings, dim and
low, _
Il dream of peace, eternal Sowers un-
fading,
And of that tideless sea whose happy flow
Keeps not a note of sorrow or upbmiding,
Some day I'll find that happy land, I know;
And my heart answered, ‘‘ Thou shalt go!
— Harper's Weekly.
ADRIENNE'S STORY.
I was never happy at Aunt Browne's,
but there seemed no prospect that I
should ever leave her. I had come out,
80 to speak, as far as any one so repressed
could come out, but I might as well
have staid in. I only sat in corners,
talked with the chaperons, or listened
to some garrulous octogenarian Aunt
Browne's interest in me, such as it was,
died a natural death after my first sea-
son—it had always been weakly—and
the resuit was a sad deficiency in my
wardrobe. She had married off two
daughters without difficulty, but a
niece, it seemed, stuck closer than a
burr. However, it was not my fault
that I remained unmarried. I had done
my best to be fascinating. Though 1
hated the idea of marrying for home or
position, yet I was sure I should not
find it hard to love one who was kind
to me, if only on account of the novelty.
1 was thirty now, and not unused to
hearing the cha rung upon the
maid, and the who shouldn’t
be choosers, by my younger cousins,
Susette and Anne. But I had had one
opportunity to change for better or
worse of which they had never dreamed.
‘The son of Aunt Browne's second hus.
band, Cedric Browne, had asked me to
marry him, three years before, as we
rowed up the river in June for the rosy
laurel biooms to orate the house and
@ viazmas for Suse birthday fete. 1
sometimes wondered what Aunt Browne
would have thought of the proceeding.
as she had set her heart upon marrying
Susette to Cedric. Perhaps 1 refused
him because ] was taken unawares, be-
cause I was not enough interested to
care about frustrating Aunt Browne's
plans; perhaps I did not expect to be
taken at my word, but imagined it the
proper way to decline, in order to be
importuned. I believe all my favorite
beroines had conducted in this wise.
However, we rowed home through the
sunset, our boat heaped with the pink
flowers, in silence.
* Yon look as if you were laden with
sunset clouds,” sald Susette, who was
watching for us on the shore: but [ am
certain that ‘Cedric looked like a thun-
der-cloud.
The next day was the fete. Every.
body brought presents for Susette.
Cedric gave her an antique necklace of
turquoises ; I wus sure hi» had meant it
for me. We had supper out of doors,
under the great pine-trees, and danci ng
by moonlight. That day [ began to re.
gard Cedric Browne attentively. [I had
known him under the same roof tor
weeks at 8 time; I had lsughed and
talked with him, believing him fore-
ordained to minister to Susette's hap-
piness, “as inaccessible as a star in
2 1.3
IES id
DeLTArs
had helped me with Adele's children,
who had come to live at Aunt Browne's
should regard me with any tender emo-
tions I had never even dared to wish.
till to-day. I had never observed til]
to-day that his eyes weie as tender as
stars, that his face was like that radiant
countenance of Mozart in the masie.
room, that his smile was simply en.
chantment. It was rather late to make
these discoveries,
He did not leave us at once: it seemed
as if he staid just long enough for me
to know all I had lost. Since then he
had been with usonce again for a w hole
spinal affection that kept him on his
back, and me by his side: and though
Cedric used to relieve me often by day
and by night, I could see from my win.
dow. and from occasional g;impses into
t.edrawing-room, that the balance of
pany.
**Aunt Susette’s bean is going to
make me a kite,” Teddy confide
Walter one day. § Sonfided 0
beg Who's he? asked Walter from his
“Why, Cedric, of
Browne. Bridget says
that put the matter
The next day, when Cedric came up to
amuse Walter with the affairs down
stairs, that youth demanded : “I say, are
you really Aunt Susette’s beau, Cedric?
Adrienne’s ever 8o nicer. When ma
man I'll marry Adrienne.”
0 hen Jou be luckier than 1,” said
edrie, winding up a top, inning
it on his palm, P Praud spinning
Ji was a your since then.
went out; wus fairl L88¢¢,
Browne had abandoned ail hopes an
was a good nurserymaid, a clieap
£LOVErness, an inexpensive companion.
in the family. In the meantime I eould
have marricd any day, if T had chosen
to accept the Rev. Abel Amherst, snd
transfer my labors to the parsonage.
To be sure, this wouldnot have proved
the brilliant marriage my aunt had ex-
pected of me, nor the romantic one I
ind dreamed of myself, and it was not
till I came into possession of a certain
family secret that I began to revolve
the possibility in my mind. It seems
that when my aunt married her second
busband, Mr. Browne—Susette and
Anne were both Lowelis—they had sub-
sisted upon the patrimony left to Cedric
by his mother, and that after his father’s
death, Cedric had turned in the same
yearly income from the estate for the
family use, and that 1, Adrienne Lennox,
owed my daily bread to the msn whom
I had refused, and who had forgotten
me, Earning my own livelihood was
ou of the question. drudgery was my
only vocation, and that was too badly
aid to be encouraging. I looked at the
ev. Abel Amherst often at this period,
with a view to installing him in Cedric’s
place, if Cedric would only vacate.
Oddly enough, Mr. Amherst renewed
his suit at this time, and pressed it with
the eagerness of a lover, and for the first
time 1 began to hesitate. “The woman
who hesitates is lost,” said Susette,
1 had been out on the hills one day
trying to make up my mind to forget
Cedric, and marry Mr. Amherst; but
course—Cedrie
80 herse'f.” as if
beyond dispute,
I no longer
VOLUME XIII.
HKditor and
HALL,
CO., PA.
APRIL
$200 a Y
ear. in Advance.
NUMBER 16.
'
Amberst all the rest of my days, some.
negative photograph
There is a letter for you, Adrienne,
said Aunt Browne, when I entered the
of the daco, under Mozart's picture.” 1
went into the music room, but there
giris has re-
But no one |
““ Perhaps one of the
moved it,” she suggested.
“Grandma cooked a letter over the
said little Teddy, reflec. |
tively.
“Yes,” sald grandma, “1 wrote a
letter to your pa, child. 1 hadn't any
blotting paper, but the fire answers the
purpose quite as well."
At that time I had never heard of
Well, we ran- |
letter, |
“Who was it from, sunt? I asked.
“How should I know, child?
““ But the handwriting — the post.
mark?
“The postmark was blurred.”
“Had it a foreign stamp?” I asked,
with sudden eagerness. Cedric had |
gone abroad some months before, and |
nad not heard of his return.
“A foreign stamp! No.
expecting a foreign letter™
**N-0; but it is the unexpected that
always happens, you know,”
“It's awiully provoking,” said Su- |
sette. *' Perhaps it was only the recipes
Mrs. Clark was going to send you.”
“Nothing more likely: but what has |
become of it? A 4
Were you
It's a prolonged game of |
hunt the thimble.”
* And supposing it's a letter notifying
you of the existence of a first Mrs. Awm- |
by your forty-fifth cousin in Austra-
And then the door-bell rang.
Well, after that 1 suppose I must have |
accepted Mr. Amherst. Everybody be-
haved as if I had. I received congratu-
lations and a ring, and the parish begun
repairs upon the parsonage, before I
could muster courage to tell Mr. Am- |
herst all about Cedric and my mistake,
and how [ wasn’t at all sure { could ever
get over it, and care for anybody else, |
but that { would do my t And he
smiled inia sort of absent way when |
told him, but seemed content to take |
me as I was, for better or worse; only
it did strike me sometimes that he was
the most undemonstrative lover in
Christendom; but I hadn't much ex-
st,
weren't as gushing in real life as novels
pictured. He used to kiss my hand when
we parted; that was all. He was very
gentle, but a little sad, I tancied, wi h a
look which might mean that he was
afraid of .0 much happiness, or that to
marry the weman he loved wasn't all |
fancy had painted it; and often I thought |
I had perhaps done wrong to tell him
everything about Cedric so unresery.
edly; yet I had only meant to be honest. |
But the day was appointed, and sud- |
denly Cedric appeared among us, when |
I thought he was at the world's end.
and he and the girls decorated the little |
church with white field daisies andl
grasses for the occasion. You may be-
teve that I avoided the sight of Cedrie
in the interval before the wedding as |
mygh as possible, but somehow I was |
aiways stumbling upon him: he seemed |
to be perpetually at my elbow; he sur-
prised me more than once with traces |
of tears upon my face; the sound of his
voice made my heart turn and quiver |
within me. If [ had dared to withdraw |
at this juncture, I'm afraid I should
have done so; but it was too late: and |
though 1 felt like a hypocrite whenever |
Mr. Amherst appeared, his looks of!
sober satisfaction, which reminded me
of those lines of Matthew Royden on |
Sir Philip Sidney, :
* A tull assurance given by looks,
Continual comtiort in a face,
The lineaments of gospel books,”
might have taught me that all was well
with him.
“You are the oddest sweethearts I
ever saw,” gossiped Susette. *‘]
wouldn't give » straw for such a lover:
and as for you. Adrienne, you resemble
a ghost more than a bride.” |
In short, a thousand years of purga- |
during those last weeks before my wed- |
ding. Well, to crown the whole, Aunt |
Browne said Cedric must give me away: |
Lie was the only male relative, the head |
of the family, so to speak, and he could |
do it so admirably. |
+ We shall see,” said he. “I'm afraid |
I should make a poor figure at giving |
{riste mustache as he spoke, and looked
at me just as he looked that day when
we gathered the laurel for Susette’s fote |
~1 could have sworn he did. I didn't
answer, for fear my voice would be |
The wedding was to be quite private
relatives. Aunt rowne ar-
the proorieties: it
clergyman’s bride
parade.
dicn't become a!
to make a great
At the church, I remember,
1e carriage door, and
Then he drew
my haif-lifeless arm within his, and
directly the wedding march pealed |
forth in great resounding waves of |
melody. My grandmother's India snus. |
lin blew out in abundant creamy folds
behind me, and Cedric and I were stand- |
ing before the altar, and Mr. Amherst |
was reading the marriage service!
I believe that Aunt Browne fainted, |
or she would have forbidden the banns. |
* You see, it was impossible for me |
to give you away, Adrienne,” said Ce- |
dric, later, when we were steaming out
of town. ““ Amherst is a trump; and may |
he find a wife as sweet as Mrs. Browne!
If it hadn't been for him, I should have
been of all men the most miserable to-
day. What do you think he did?
Why, he wrote me all that sad little |
story you thought right to tell him, |
and added that he would not deny he |
was making a sacrifice: that in renoun-
cing you he renounced all that made
life lovely to him, except his work; yet
he felt it was better one should fail of a
heaven on earth than two should suffer
and that if I loved you, as I bad once
said, would I take his place at the mar-
riage, and allow him to solemnize it?
It was a whim of his to have it so, ‘to
avoid explanations,’ he said. I couldn't
believe in my luck, you now, Adrienne.
We bandied letters to and’ fro, canvass
ing the subject. I feared he had made
a mistake, as 1 had renewed my offer
some little while before, but had re-
ceived no reply; still a dozen things
happen to letters every day.”
“Yes, and something happened to
yours,” I said.
Wears after, when Susette and Anne
were married, when Adele's husband
had taken the children home to a new
mamma, and Aunt Browne had gone to
“the land of the hereafter,” when Cedric
was repairing the old house for a sum-
mer residence, in ripping away the an-
cient dado in the musie-room, which
had always warped away from the wall
in warm weather, leaving a little crack,
the carpenters unearthed my lost letter.
Had it slipped down there, or had Aunt
Browne given it a push? We give her
the benefit of the doubt.— Harper's
Bazar,
The notion of putting a light inside
the body, so as to see what is.going on
there, and'to take remedial or preventive
measures accordingly, is not entirely
new, but it is very interesting. This is
she aim substantially of the * poly-
scope,” an invention which, it is as-
terted, will render an examination of
FOE THE FAIR SEX.
cm—
Fashion Notes.
Walistooats are going out of fashion,
The day of the white chip bonnet is
aver,
A new lace is painted
teather eves
Silk muslin bonnet
much worn,
Shoes for street wear show the sensi
ble English heel.
Ruby beads and vellow pearls are the
atest novelties in beads.
Friegses should be from
twenty-four inches deep.
[tis impossible to make a collarette
in peacock
crowns will be
twenty to
out any white lace or flowers.
Yellow sunflowers and erimson pop-
pies are favorite flowers this season.
Eugenie net, much used in millinery,
shows giit threads in diamond méshes,
New cashmeres come in all fashion.
effect,
Sleeveless habit corsages of velvet or
satin are wornover ball dresses of tuile
Or gauze,
Satins figure extensively among hand.
some fabrics for costumes and bonnet
garniture.
Beaded and jet passementerie forms a
fashionable garniture for costumes of
silk and satin.
Beaded passementeries are
used for trimming silk and satin
largely
man.
The prevailing faney for directoire
has brought undraped toilets
Some of the new artificial lowers are
furnished with celluloid leaves which
1}
ie
Spring and summer mantles
weighted with a profusion of
are
Roe, rib
The new woolen mixtures are no
heavier than the French buntings, and
are covered with Alternating dashes of
TWO Colors,
Corduroy underskirts will continue
to be worn under draperies of silk
foulard, Yeddo crape, and light woolen
dress goods.
Nun's veiling is the name of an inex.
pensive dress material which ranks
higher than bunting and comes in all
the new shades, ’
Dresses of India muslin made in
Paris are decorated with suitana scarfs
Oriental silk, embroidered with
either gold or sijver.
Lutestring ribbons have heen revived
by Paris milliners. They are made
with tape borders or feathered edges in
oid timestyle, and are called tafletas,
Dresses with plan corsages, plain tight
sleeves, and plain skirts without
flounces, tabliers, or overskirts, are
worn by some very fashionable women.
Scarfs of scarlet tulle, beaded with
tiny pearl beads, are worn to advantage
by those to whom scarlet is becoming,
in place of the white illusion neck
Hats with black velvet facings trim-
colors is becoming alone.
Square handkerchiefs of bright col-
Momie cieth which has steadily in-
in handsome woolen goods finished
Three smal ostrich tips shaded from
pearl to heliotrone, from cream to Isa-
one color, form the “ Prince of Wales »
plumes empioyed on Tuscan and chip
hats.
The latest novely in dress goods is
with Bayadere stripes of bright shades
and bisck.
domestics are
yel low
these bayadere
last summer,
A Paris letter says that the airy lace,
satin and ribbin muffs have prov d so
pretty an addition to the toilette that
they have establisted a position in the
ballroom, where they are carried in the
hand or sewn to the dress. They look
in the plain Oriental silks, printed with
designs in goid or silver.
Foulards are much used, not only in
They are
beautifully finished and come in sprays,
delicate blossoms and other foriated
patterns, broche designs and dots on
They furnish one of
Novelties in lingerie are constantly
e Among the newest are silk
petticoats cut out on the border in
squares. In each of these open places
Some of
are not more than six inches long and
The newest and simplest fichus are
very large, and are of Indian muslin
embroidered on the edges, so that lace is
not needed for trimming them, though
the latter is sometimes added.
most are graceful additions
toilettes for the present season, and
will be worn out of doors during
; the wide-
orimmed garden hats. they complete
most picturesque costumes.
In London for dressy occasions hoods
and muffs made of brocade, with
strands of gold running through, are
very fashionable,
rate from the dresses or jackets and are
ribbon about three inches wide,
muffs have ribbon and lining to match,
and are trimmed with black or coffee
colored lace.
also of the same material.
Fans and Their Literature,
remote antiquity,
lection of fans among the Egyptian
antiquities in the British museum.
Terence, who lived in the second cen-
tury, B. C., refers, in one of his Latin
comedies, to the fan, as used by the
ladies of ancient Rome.
The illustrations of vases and other
remains of the ciassic times of Greece
and Rome represent the kind of fans
which were in use in those days, while
the early manuscripts are embellished
with drawings of those of medieval Bu-
rope. The great pictures of Titian and
his contemporaries carry the history
down to more modern times.
The fan was first brought into Furo-
pean notoriety by Catherine de Medicis,
who introduced it into France.
Great sums were spen, in ornamenting
tans, and any were painted on by the
skillful fingers of Watteau.
In the palmy days of tha French court,
when Louis XIV. and Marie Antoinette
lived, there was a profligate extrava-
gance in fans, which was extremely
profitable to the manufacturers of them,
ueen Elizabeth, of England when in
full dress, carried a fan. During the
sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, fans
were used by gentlemen. During the
present century (1827), it was a blow
given with a fan by the Dey of Algiers
every part of the human body feasible.
t0 the French consul, that led to the war
! which ended in makings French colony
of that whole region.
The out-door tan was large enough to
screen the face from the sun, and in oid
prints ladies are seen carrying their fans
in different positions, just as fanoy
pleased them
In old times, the fan was used to ex-
press, hy peculinr movements, love,
disdain, anger and other emotions, Gay,
Flavia, says
“ In other hands, the tan would prove
An engine of mall fores in love,”
In the eighteenth century, the fan was
held up to shield the face when any-
thing too shocking for female enrs was
uttered. Pope makes an allusion to the
discontinuance of the fashion:
“The modest fan was lifted up no more,
And virgins smiled at what they hlushed be.
fore."
During the same century at balls held
"in London and elsewhere, gentlemen se-
lected their partners by drawing a fan
from a number placed promisouously in
a hat. For that reason, the fans of the
indies were carefully studied, as each
| one possessed an individuality.
A tourist in Spain, as late as 1881,
wrote the following about the use
fans in church: “Though not under.
standing the services, I could guess the
nature of it at any particular time, by
the way in whieh the tans were waving,
The difference between a litany and a
thanksgiving was unmistakable; the
minuter shades of devotion were also
discernible.”
In I871, there was held, under the pat.
ronage of Queen Victoria, at the South
Kensington museum, a competitive exe»
hibition of fans. Large numbers were
placed on exhibition from Egypt, Tur.
key, Mexico and the islands of the Pa-
cific ocean, and included almost every
private and publie collection of any
pote. The queen eceived the highest
premium ($2,000) ora fanwhich once
belonged to Marie Antoinette,
The manufacture of fans is exten-
sively carried on in England, France
and Belgium, Whole villages in Pi.
cardy are employed in the various
branches connected with the industry.
The Chinese have greatly excelled in
the art of fan-making, and in the species
of lacquered fans their superiority is ad.
mitted. Cheap fans are manufactured
in Canton as low as two cents a dozen,
Fans are also made, to » fair extent, in
this country. The total value of the tans
annually manufactured in the world is
pinced in excess of $500,000
An Ancient Dance in Taseany.
A Chicago Times corresponaent, writ-
ing irom Tuscany in Italy. says: Dur.
ing this visit 1 witnessed many inter.
esting rustic games and cergmonies,
notably a marriage, with its escort of
maidens with their lamps, and a dance
celebrating that charming custom among
ancient Italians, the opeding of
summer, which Vis deseribes in a
lamous passage ol his first eclogue,
First came an invitation to the goddess
of corn, two preity and graceful giris
representing the priestesses of Ceres—
the one fair and garianded with white
flowers, the other dark. and crowned
with purple flowers. They pause to
strike their uplifted tamborines, while
beliind them thelr sisters rush breath
iess butshouting with flowing garments
and outspread arms. T'wo young men
with purple caps and embroidered vests
advance, ench with a silver amphora or
sacred vase of wine, which is first
sipped by the priestesses, followed by
the maidens who surround them, and
then by the young men who closely tol.
low up the rear, the whole accompan.
ied by characteristic songs and recita.
tions. Then all join hands, a youth
and maiden alternately, and form twe
immense rings, all being crowned with
chaplets of grain and grasses, and the
ricstesses deeked with additional gar.
lands of the same nature hanging like a
scar! across their shoulders, ;
directs the movements of one ring until
they all sink down exhausted. when
{ they are relieved by the other ring al-
{ ternately until the old Roman dis! on
i the church tower marks the morning
hours and pale moonlight gives place
to the glowing day. Then they are
led, smiling and bowing their heads, in
the
iri
sid
i
o'der friends who are seated as specta-
tors, and then again bounding off in a
all imaginable shapes, seldom breaking
the magic ring, returning again and
again to the groups of spectators for ine
spection and approval, and again bound-
ing off in the mazes of the intricate
dance. The leader will perhaps con.
duct them to the brow of the Lill and
then starting back some of them are
sent down the bank and recovered by
the clasped hands in the chain; and
then laughing and shouting she leads
them to the border of a mass of grain
spread out to dry, and drawing back as
long into the long white straw, the
leader constantly passing through the
ring and turning it, as it were, inside
out. Along the blue Mediterranean or
on the borders of the inland lakes the
bright enjoyment to these dancers for
many happy generations.
IIT
Perseverance and Health,
A man who inherits wealth may begin
In
driving, in foreign travel, in hunting
and fishing, in .ciub houses and society,
hie may manage to pass away his time;
but he will hardly be happy.
to be necessary to health that the powers
of a man may be trained upon some sub-
ject and steadily held there day after
day, year after year, while vitality lasts,
the fund of vitality will have sunk so
low that he can follow no consecutive
labor without such a draft upon his
forces that sleep cannot restore them.
But so long as a man has vitality
to spare upon work it must be used, or
it will become a source of grievous,
harrassing discontent. The man will
not know what to do with himself: and
{when he has veached such a point as
that, he is unconsciously digging a grave
for himself, and fashioning his own
coffin.
Life needs a steady channel to ran in
—regular habits of work and of sleep.
{It needs a steady, stimulating aim—a
tend toward something. An aim
less life can never be happy, or, for a
{ long period, healthy Said a rich iady
{ to a gentleman still laboring beyond his
needs: ‘Don't stop; keep at it.” The
be alive to-day.” And what she thought
was doubtless true. A greater shock
{ean hardly befall a man who has been
active than that which he experiences
| when, having relinquished his putstiis,
| he finds unused time and unused vitality
| The current of his life is thus thrown
into eddies, or settled into a sluggish
pool, and he begins to die.~— Sanitarium
The Poets Laureate of England,
The succession of the poets laureate
of England, from the time
“father of English poetry,” has been
as lollows, with the date of their acces-
sion to office: Geoffrey Chaucer, A.
D. 1373; Henry Scoean, 1400; John
Kay, 1461; Andrew Barnard, 1485;
John Skelton, 1510; Edmund Spencer,
1590; Samuel Daniel, 1599; Ben Jon-
gon, 1615; Sir W. Dasenant, Kt., 1638;
John Diyden, 1670; Thomas Shadnell,
1680; Nahun Tate, 1603: Nicholas
Roue, 1714; Lawrence Husden. 1719,
Colley Clihber, 1730; William White.
head, 1768; Thomas Wharton, 1785
Henry J. Pry, 1790; Robert Southey-
1813; William Wordsworth, 1823; Al-
fred Tennyson, 1850.
ert ——————
There are three men to one woman in
Arizona
IN A PANTHER'S CAGE,
A Female Animal Trainer who Gees In |
Among a HalicDosen Falletirown |
Mexican Panthers which are the Tere
ror of » Whole Menagerie,
The value of coolness and presence of
mind was strikingly illustrated at
Cooper & Bailey's stables, Philadelphia,
where the great London circus was in
quarters, In the main building, where
most all the animals of the menagerie
are kept, was a cage containing five or
six full-grown Mexican panthers, whose
flerce aspect and savage capers are the
terror of all who pass through there,
Directly opposite these panthers there is |
a cage containing lions, and on either
side of them are cages containing tigers
and leopards. Savage as the tigers and
leopards appear, there is not half the
terror in them for the keepers that there
is in the long, stealthy, cat-like animal,
the Mexican panther, In size they are
about ns large as a full-grown setter
dog, though their whole appearance is |
of the eat order, having long claws,
sharp teeth, and evabills which, in
their anger, gleam and quiver like livid
fire, These animals at Cooper & |
Bailey's, on the day in question, seemed
worse than usaal., They had been fight. |
ing among themselves until their heads |
and ears were bleedimg, and upon the
approach of any visitor near their cage
they would spring against the iron grat- |
ing, with gleaming eyes and exposed
fangs, with a loroe that would shake the |
cage from top to bottom, at the same
time thrusting their claws through in
their efforts to c¢lutehh the intruders |
and bring them within range of their
teeth. To stand off and look at them
would provoke them almost to mad.
ness. ‘They would bound against the
grating with a loud and savage scream,
and strike and tear at the iron rods with
their claws in & way that would make |
the stoutest-bearted visitor fall back
and almost shudder to think of the con.
sequences should they by any mischance
onoe get at large. Evon the keepers |
themselves, after they had volied up
the tigers and leopards ard passed close
to their cages in safety, made a detour
when they came to the panthers, giving
them a wide berth. Presently a young
woman, dressed in bloomers and with
her hair tightly done up on the top of
her head, came along, with a stout whip
in her hand. {
“* See,” said one of the keepers, * she's
going into the cage.”
“What ™ exclaimed
different voices, amazed.
“She's going in among the panthers;
she's training them,” said the keeper,
“Surely shie won't go in among them
as they arenow ™ said one, while others
fell back still further and some hastened
AWAY,
Meantime, the girl had gone up close
to the cage, whip in hand, and, with
the assistance of the keeper—who was
aso her husband-—the panthers were
back in one end of the cage,
the man using a long stick, with the
end of which he gave them some vigor |
ous raps on thenose. After a great deal
of snapping and scufiling among each
othor--each animal, every time he was |
hit, seeming to visit his vengeance for |
the blow on his nearest fellow they
were all gotten back in the end furthes.
from the cagedoor, The man then prot
three or four
terrupted frequently by the animals,
some of which would now and then
bound out of their corner over the backs
of those of their fellows who stood in
the way and land half-way up the floor
of the cage, where they would draw
themselves up in a crouching posture,
and with eyes of fireand a deep, low |
whine or growl they would remain |
watching him as though only walling |
spring. The keeper, without showing
the least discomposure, went on with
bis work until the door was opened.
I'he young woman, who had been stand- |
ing beside him with her whip in hand |
and a pleasant smile on her face, with- |
out a moment's hesitation stepped up
and the next moment was inside the
cage. The moment she got in there was
the most terrific screaming and fighting
of any time yet, The panthers would |
jump over each other in their eagerness
to spring upon her, and would spring
halt-way up the oage, but
no further, weing held
fear. They would then
one another and tear each |
other's ears and seratch and fight, |
this being apparently the only means |
that would satisfy their ferocity. Mean. |
time the woman stood perfectly still,
holding her whip out and speaking to
them in a soothing mapner, as though
she was pacifying a favorite dog or eat.
Gradually the screams and growls be.
gan to get lower and lower and the figh-
ing among one another began to cease
Still they kept growling and looking at
her and showing their teeth and snap- |
ping now and then until she had ad. |
vanced a step. Then they began to |
grow! again, and one of them sprang |
over the others and got nearest to her,
but hind no sooner alighted than he was |
ounced upon by another, and they again
Po to fight. Then the young woman,
would |
back |
by spring |
ther andistruck one of the animals with
the but end of her whip, at the same
time scolding him. He sprang back to
the end of the eage among the others,
while the woman, carelessly letting her
whip fall in a harmless position, pro-
ceeded to soothe and caress the panther
nearest her, patting him upon the top of
the head and stroking him on the back |
until his growls had almost subsided, |
and he sullenly allowed himself to be
petted, winking his eyes and mouthing
having grouped themselves together in
the end of the cage looked on with sul-
len growls. If any advanced she gave
them a sharp rap on the head and or
tion she never lost sight of the others,
ment and being always prepared to use
Sometimes three or four, as though
ward and approach sullenly, as though
inviting her to caress them, too Then
fied and quiet, and she scemed as much
80 many eats. But this pacific state of
things would not last’ long. They seemed
and to be ever on the brink of a revolt.
be signalized by a deep
would instantly communicate itself to
the others, and the next instant there
would be a quick spring and one of the
animals would find himself pounced
ive
make them settledown for a little time.
“What would be the consequence if
she was to show any fear and retreat to-
ward the door?” asked one of the by-
standers, who had been almost spell-
bound by thascene before him and had
not found himself able to speak before.
“The consequence,” said the keeper,
shaking his head, ** would be that every
her and tear her to pieces in a minute.”
It gives some idea of the trade be-
tween Minnesota and Manitoba that
the imports into Manitoba at Pembina
ameunted Inst year to $448,344, mostly
in fur skins, and the experts to 8750,.
941, mostly in lumber, cotton goods,
cattle and meats, iron and steel, plows,
carriages, sugars and steam vessels,
asst —
Sixty million dollars is the estimated
cost of the projected Euphrates valley
railroad, which is intended to facilitate
the intercourse of England with India
The road will be over a thousand miles
long and will be very difficult to build. /
TIMELY TOPICS,
Cetywayo, the dethroned Zulu mon.
arch, scoording to a South Africa paper,
is engaged in making mental notes. He
has enleulated that each charge fired by
ew foreign men-of-war in Table bay in
saluting the fort was of the value of an
ox. He also concludes that it is more
expensive to keep up armaments in
Europe than in Zululand, His majesty
aise regards the queen's conduet in not
answering his message of contrition as
showing a great lack of courtesy,
The sland of Rotumah, which has
it, is situated a little to the north and
his search for the mutineers of the
Bounty in 1791. The island is only five
miles long and half as wide, but it has
a numerous population, the shore bein
covered with villages, which touch and
join one another. The soil is very fer-
tile, and vessels often stop at the island
for supplies, while the inhabitants make
good sailors.
msn
According to the German imperial
statistics for 1878 of births, deaths and
population being 44.200,000, the mar-
ringes numbered 340.000, the births
1,785,000, and the deaths 1.228.000, In
the number of births was 936, -
000, and of deaths 839,000, so that the
births exceeded the deaths by 97,000,
In Germany the excess of births was
557,000—that is to say, that while in
France the population increased in 1878
at the rate of 27 per cent, it increased
The number of marriages in Germany
Line greatly fallen off since 1872, when
493,900 were registered,
The sum realized from the recent sale
of the Demidoff paintings in Florence
($537,365) is very large, but it has heen
excelled at least once pnd approached
several times. The Gillott collection of
Mr. Albert Grant sold Lis 205 pictures
for $520.684; in 1875, Mr. Mendel's
Manley Hall collection of 445 pictures
sold for $499.800, and twenty years
cariier, Lord Northwick's 1.881 pictures
With.
out making the statement too positively,
it is probable that the largest sum ever
actually paid tor any single canvas was
£119,584, the picture being Murillo’s
“Conception of the Virgin," which
was bought for the Louvre at Paris, at
the sale of Marshal Soult's collection in
And possibly $60,000 is the
largest sum ever received for a single
this case being * 1807," the painter
Meissonier, and the buyer A. T. Stew-
art.
———
Here is a soene trom Leitrim county,
Ireland, as described hy the correspon.
dent of the Mansion House committee:
On visiting the sick a few days since |
entered the cabin of a poor old man,
years old, 1 was grieved to see him in
His hollowed cheeks, pene.
I reached another
this comprised four individuals—the
father, an old man, unable to leave his
bed unless carried; the son, the only
support of the old father, and twa sickly
sisters, one of whom is now far advanced
of the giris did not look for employment,
his answer was: ** No one wants her.”
In Bonniconlan, county Mayo, two hun-
dred families are destitute in a single
They are in great distress—the
They
them without a drep of milk, without
naked. .
IS 15 0
In the Matter of Advertising.
If you have goods to sell, advertise,
Hire a man with a lampblack kettle
ut perhaps
the obliging conductor would stop the
scoommodate an inguisitive
Remember the fences by the roadside
Nothing is so attractive tothe
passer-by as a well-painted sign: ** Mill.
ington's medical mixture for mumps.”
Have your card in the hotel register
by all means, Strangers stopping at
hotels for a night generally buy a cigar
or two before they leave town, and they
need some inspiring literature for food
besides.
If an advertising agent wants your
business advertised in a fancy frame at
the depot, pay him about 200 oo cent,
more an it is worth, and let him put
it there. When a man has three-guar-
ters of a second in which to catch a
train, he invariably stops to read depot
Of course the street thermometer
dodge is excellent, When a man’s fin.
gers and ears are freezing, or he is pufl-
ing and “phewing " at the heat is the
time above all others when he reads an
advertisement.
Print in the blackest ink a great
sprawling card on all your wrapping
paper. Ladies returning from a shop-
ping tour like to be walking bulletins,
and if the ink rubs off and spoils some
of their finery, no matter. They never
will stop at your store again.
Don’t fail to advertise in every circus
programme. It will help the circus to
pay its bills, and visitors can relieve
the tedium of the clown's jokes by look-
ing over your interesting remarks about
“twenty per cent. below cost,” ete,
A boy with a big placard on a pole is
an interesting ohject on the streets, and
lends a dignified air to your establish-
ment. Hire about two.
Advertise on a calender. People
never look at a calander to see what day
of the month it is. The merely glance
hurriedly at it so as to be sure that your
name is spelled with or without a *p,"
that's all.
When the breezes blow, wafted by a
paper fan in the hands of a lovely
woman, "tis well to have the air redolent
with the perfume of the carmine ink in
which your business address is printed.
This will make the market for decent
fans very good.
Patronize every agent that shows you
an advertising tablet, card, directory,
dicviunary or even an advertising Bible,
if one is offered at a reasonable price.
The man must make a living.
But don't think of advertising in a
well-established legitimate newspaper.
Not for a moment, Your advertisement
would be nicely printed and would find
its way into all the thrifty households of
the region, where the farmer, the me-
chanie, the tradesmen in other lines, and
into the families of the wealthy and re-
fined, all who have articles to buy and
money with which to buy them, and
after the news of the day has been di-
gested, it would be read and pondered,
and next day people would come down
to your store po patronize you, and
keep coming in increasing numbers, and
you might have to hire an extra clerk or
two, move into a larger block and more
favorable location and do a bigger busi-
ness, but of course it would be more
expensive—and bring greater profits, —
New Haven Register.
There is not a single insane asylum in
Arkansas.
i
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RELIGIOUS NEWS AND NOTES,
Ex-Governor Brown, of Georgia, has
given $50,000 to the Southern Baptist
heologieal Seminary, at Louisville,
Ky., to endow a professorship.
There are, it is said, 150,000 German
Protestants in Brasil, the majority o
whom are Lutherans. They are very
poorly supplied with pastors and
churches,
The Rev, George G, Pentecost, the re.
vivalist, has closed a very successful
series of revival meetings in Detroit—
the most successful, it is said, ever held
in that city,
The Scottish Episcopal church has
seven bishops, 212 churches, and 225
clergymen, against 1,639 ministers and
1.530 churches belonging to the Estab-
lished church of Scotland,
The Baptists of New Jersey have 175
churches, with 32,737 members. The |
members, as related to the population
of the State, stand as one to twenty-
seven, These churches report 16.371
baptisms in the past ten years, or about
1,600 & year.
The triennial session of the Free Will
Baptist General conference will be held
at Weirs, on Lake Winnipesockee, New
Hampshire, beginning July 21. This is
the centennial year of the denomination,
the first church having been organized
at New Durham, near Weirs, in 1780.
The value of the chureh property of
the Northern Methodist church in the
South is estimated at $6 500,000, The
benevolent collections last year
amounted to $67,650, of which $10,130
ho contributed by the colored mem.
ers.
Chicago has 213 churches, besides 20
mission chapels and 11 Adventist and
Spiritualist soeieties. The Catholics
have 34 of the churches, the Baptists 24,
the Lutherans 24, the Methodists 19,
the Presbyterians 18, and the Episco-.
paiians, Congregationalists and He.
brews 10 each.
The Freedmen's Aid society proposes |
to the friends of the late Bishop Haven |
to raise £30,000 for the completion of |
Clark University, at Atlanta, Gs., as a |
suitable monument to his memory, his |
name 10 be given to a professorship in |
the institution, in which he was very |
much interested. i
Itis estimated that among the Eng- |
lish-speaking population of the word |
there are 18,000,000 Episcopalians, 16,. |
000,000 Methodists, 13,500,000 Roman |
Catholics, 10,250,000 Presbyterians, |
5,000,000 Baptists. 8,000,000 Congregs- |
tionalists, 1,000,000 Unitarians. Of |
other religious sects there are 1,500,000 |
adherents and 8,500,000 are of no par- |
ticular religion. |
The Rev. Theodore Monod, a promi- |
nent Protestant pastor of Paris, has been |
deputed by a French missionary society |
to visit the United States, to represent |
the present condition and needs of |
Protestantism in France, and to obtain |
help for the evangelization of Paris and |
other parts of that country. M. Monod |
studied theology in the United Staves. |
A careful inquiry into the statisties of |
the work of the Methodist Episcopal |
church in the South shows that there |
are 213,776 white and 197,123 colored |
members, a gain of 6,000 colored and |
about B.000 white members in two |
years. There was an increase in the
same period of 129 preachers and 24,298 |
Sunday-school scholars. The number |
i
aduits.
The Salvation Army has considerable
strength in Great Britain
nual income of nearly $100,000, and its |
organization inciudes 120 corps, 150 of- |
ficers and 3,256 speakers. It holds 50,- |
000 meetings in the course of a year, in |
143 theaters and music halls, besides |
about 40,000 open air meetings. One |
estimate of the aggregate of the audi- |
ences places it at 2,000,000, i
It has an an- |
John Bright.
It is related that once a party o |
Americans entered a studio, where a |
fine portrait, just completed, was stand- |
ing on the artist's easel. i
“Oh,” sald one of the Americans, |
“ that must be John Bull.” i
“ No," quialy responded the artist, |
“it's John Bright.” i
The anecdote forcibly illustrates the |
truly British physical type of the Qua- |
ker orator and statesman. In personal
appearance, certainly, he is an English- |
man of Englishmen. Robust, though |
not corpulent, of body; with a round, |
t nose; his |
ruddy, having a remarkable purity of |
complexion and fine texture of skin ; the |
eyes, large, gray, clear, bright, some-
times stern and defiant, but in repose |
often gentle and kindly; decision and |
vigor most plainly expressed in the |
resolute mouth and firm jaw and chin; |
a face less mobile than calm and set;
the brow broad and white, and arched |
high st the top; the whole frame strong, |
well-proportioned, almost massive, in. |
dicating great powers of endurance, and |
giving, even at his present age, no hint
of that delicacy of health which has in
recent years impaired his public activ. |
ity. In his company, one has a keen
sense of his power, one feels himself in |
the presence of a born leader of men. |
He holds his head high, and looks you, |
and every one, full in the face; and that
with a keen, searching glance that
rather robs you of your ease. Seif-re. |
liance, honesty, pride of intellect, reso- |
lution—nay, even intolerance~may be
read in his exprossi |
John Bright is now"in his sixty-ninth
year. He is two years younger than |
Gladstone and six younger than Lord
Beaconsfield; and as Engiish statesmen |
orous race, and often
continue their public activities into the |
eighties, it may be hoped that he has |
still some years of labor in the cause of |
reform before him. His public life be-
gan in 1843, when he was thirty-two
years of age, in which year be was
elected to parlinment by theold historic |
city of Durham. Four years later he
took his seat for the first time as the |
representative of the great progressive
constituency of Manchester. His career
in the houseof commons, therefore, has
extended over a period of thirty-seven
years.—(Jood Company.
§
are a peculiarly vi
A Ghastly Story.
The wife of a skilled artisan named
Schmid, ot Samara, Russia, gave birth
to a child while her husband, who had |
spent all his wages for many previous |
weeks in liquor, was away from his |
home upon a drunken frolic. Two days |
after her confinement Schmid staggered
in, and began to shout, with horrible
threats and curses, for his dinner.
There having been neither food nor |
money in the house since he had last |
left it, the unfortunate woman had had |
no nourishment for herself or her babe
since its birth, and the latter had died
of exhaustion but a few minutes before |
its father made his appearance. To |
Schmid’s brutal menaces his miser- |
able wife made no answer. She rose |
from her pallet, wan and emaciated, |
crept across the room tc the dresser, |
took thence a large dish, which she car- |
ried back to the bed, and, placing the
baby's corpse upon the dish, set it
down on the table before her husband,
with the simple but awful words:
“There is nothing else to eat in the
house!” Schmid sat gazing with a
glassy stare at his dead child for some
time. Presently a neighbor came in
and spoke to him, but he uttered no
word and made no sign. Upon closer
examination he was found to have en-
tirely lost his reason, and he was con-
veyed to a madhouse, where he still re-
mains a hopeless lunatic.
Tobacco and rhubarb are the pipe
plants of the country.~—Marathon Inde-
dendent
FARM, GARDEN AND HOUSEHOLD,
Poultry Notes,
Jovi must have ample range to do
well, a
Apply kerosene’ frequently and an-
sparingly to the roosts,
Fowls depend more on the eye in dis-
tinguishing their food than on the
taste,
Superior is of the first
importance o I fowls for breed-
ing. The nearest they approach per-
fection, most generally the better the
results.
Carbolic acid mixed with about thirt
ris of water, and applied with a
rush to the roots of the feathers about
the neck, belly and vent, usuaily kill or
fispel the vermin on fowls,
The amount of fAesh-forming food Is
greater in oats and oatmeal than in any
other grain, being about sixteen per
cent, ani the amount of fatty sub-
is double that contained in
2 putting up perches use some
judgment, at least in placing them so
far apart that the fowls cannot peck
those of another. This alone E n
fruitful cause of many injuries happen-
ing them in their endeavor to escape
from their belligerent neighbors.
Colonizing fowls in small
flocks in the macner they are kept in
villages and small towns is practicable.
Any number divided into small lots
with SSparate houses and runs will
productive and profitable, if
means and a ical know]-
edge of poultry culture be
at all times.— Poutiny Monthly.
Halsing Seed Potatoes,
Good crops may be grown on a
variety of ot it must be —
mind that s soil that is adapted to one
variety of potatoes is not at all
for another, and that one variety re-
quires to be planted much thicker than
Shot on 18 suis Kind of soil.
it is of prime importance to
that he should understand
Lis ground and also of his
WAYS cul my potatoes to a
and by making the hills a tri
and less seed in each, better
obtained than by throwin
the handful. The potato,
from the tuber in the
ner, naturally tends to deteriorate
revert to its primitive condition. The
causes which produce deterioration are
a continual planting upon the same soil
without a Shahfe of seed and imperfect
cultivation. remedy is to procure
recently originated varieties
the greatest amount of natural vigor.
If I was to make a list of any of the
newly originated varieties, would
name the Mammoth Pearl as the best
for a general cropper; the Magnum Bo-
num (not the English variety of the
same name) for earliness and produe-
tiveness combined—having yielded last
year 548 bushels from one secre of
ground, without any manure w
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2
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£
MHeetpes.
Baxep Cory Mar Propine.—Boil
two quarts of sweet milk; scald init
seven tablespoons of corn meal. When
a little cool add salt, three eges and half
Break my rest, then—wail and ory —
Thoul’t repay me by-aad-bye—by-and-bye.
Fleeting years of time have spad—hurrie
bye.—~ ;
Still the maiden is nawed ;
All unknown the soldier lies,
Buried under alien skios;
God in benven ! dost Thou on high
Keep the promised by-and-bye- byani.-bye
Ella Wheeler
.
108 is being shipped from Montreal to
States.
& Sencup andar or syn ; season with
nutmeg. ¢ in a moderate even oven
three hours.
Rock Caxes.—One pound of flour,
half a pound of sugar, half a pound of
butter, half a pound of currants or cher-
ries, four eggs, leaving out two of the
1
an
En
cutters, and bake in a steadily heated
oven.
Frp Cmicxex.—Cut up, steam ina |
HAC yates, sh roll = Sou, Broil on }
a ron, or m tter In a Iry 3
pan; or lay in a pan with tle tte:
and water, cover with another pan,
baste often, and fry brown. In ei
case make a gravy of the drippings
serve in a gravy bo
Toxcre Toast. —Take a beef ton
that has been well boiled, chop fine, m
with cream or milk, the beaten yolk
an egg. a piece of butter, and sal
taste; simmer gently. Toast thins!
of bread, butter them, spread with
mixture and serve hot.
and het in a tureen. This is also
nice without the toast, and is
breakfasi or tes.
HiT
¢
:
it
£
_E4
"3
1
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aw
Eis
Sheep Killed by Grass Seed. ]
The penalty of getting hay seed in |
one's hair must be serious in some parts |
country where the Shetp
tressed and often actually
the seeds of certain grasses
chilla,” which, having once fallen upon
or been eauplt by the wool.quickly work
their way through the skins of ani-
mals into their flesh. The ripe seeds of
these grasses are armed with recurved
barbules whose points, being sharp =s
needles, easily penetrate the skin, every
moves git of the situa) sending lo grite
ie deeper and deeper in e flesh.
The mutton ex for sale in the
butchers’ shops is sometimes so full of
these grass seeds that it excites the at.
tention of strangers. One newly arrived
emigrant describes a fore-quarter of mut-
ton as resembling a ham just taken from
the bag of chaff in which it had been
brought from Engiand. On close exam.
ination it appeared that many of the
seeds had still their long, thin tails
2
interlacing each other in every direc. |
tion. He gees on to say that, on ques- |
tioning the butcher, he was told that |
they rarely killed a sheep that was not |
more or less punctured in this way. It
stands to reason that butchers’ meat, |
such as this, must need to be thoroughly
cooked before eating. From other ao
counts it appears that the seeds are not
infrequently found actually piercing the
heart, liver and kidneys of sheep that
have died from the effects of their move-
ments. One writer says that he has
found ‘the internal organs so crowded
with the seeds that they felt like a bag
of needles, if squeezed in the hand. On
some “runs,” w these grasses are
specially abundant, the annual Joss of
sheep is a very serious matter. It has
even been asserted that the northern
part of Queensland is unfit for Sheep be-
cause of the great abundance of the
noxious grasses.
Canceling Postage Stamps by Fire, |
The toffice authorities of New |
York city think they have arrived at a |
practical and thorough plan of prevent-
ing the second use of postage stamps,
which is a fraud that has been practiced
by washing off the ink with acids alter
the stampine of the first use. Persons
ment ha e been very ingenious in de-
vising modes of doing the unlawtu.
washing. A new process of cancelln-
tion has been invented. and is in use in
the New York postoffice. It is to
scorch the stamps. Specimens of the
new process show very effective work
against the fraud of second use of the
stamps, the cancellation mark being ab.
solutely indellible. The imprint made
is just the same as that made by the
ink stamp, except that it is sight}
burned and scorched in instead of being
an ink impression. The new stamp is
heated by aaa, the metal being thin, to
allow o th quick heating and
rapid cooling, It is used the same as
an ink-stamp, but with a saving of time
that will enable the person itto
do at least twice the work that the ink-
stamp would. In using the latter it
travels between the inkerand the letters
being stamped. With the new stamp
the operation will be a continuous ris-
ing and falling of a few inches. It can
be used in all offices where gas is burned.
An experienced hand with
cancels about one hundred and twenty- |
five stamps per minute :
;
§
3
LH
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gs
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:
21
“li g
:
of an hour and a
cloud from the engi-
*s face, and then in reply to the query
aid
“It is a queer thing. Therc's my en-
®, ot the best on the road, in per
only twelve years old, and
or pull with the hestof them.
ago [ hadn't the least bit of
making time, no matter how
weight of the train.
the word, held her
y, and she seemed to
word I said. To-da
roundhouse, grow
acting as if she
with a gravel-
X14
2
5
understand ever
pd peti
spu £2
Neaed to pick a vs
it"
“ Anything out of gear?
“ Not a thing. She's been looked over
twice, and we can’t find the least excuse
for her conduct. She'il getoveritina
day or two, perhaps. If she don't we'll
punish her.”
“How! :
“Pat her before a freight or stock
train. I've seen it tried a dozen times,
and it most always worked well. Here
she is now, bright as a new dollarand as
handsome as a piciure, and I'll bet $50
that there isn’t the least thingout of or-
der. She's simply sulking, the same as
a child or a womun, and | know what
started it. Three weeks ago, whiie on
the night ex: she
ht out for all she was
the bit like a Fanning
I hadn't choked her o
a beaten schedule time hy
twenty minutes. She acted mad right
away, and in running twenty miles she
gave me more trouble than I ever had
with her in a run of three hundred.
She lost steam, tried to foam over,
her pipes, and when | wanted
more steam she'd slide on her drivers.
t back on me that night,
ever since.
nes do this?
many of them. Some
folks laugh at us and call it supersti-
Som, but they never lived in an engine
my run in with
A Wildeat that Whipped Twenty-Five
Dogs.
The Americus (Ga.) Reyublican says: