Trust.
Sometimes when all lila's lessons have been
learned,
And san and stars forevermore have set, |
The things which our weak judgments hero |
have spurned,
The things o'er which we grieved with lashes |
wet,
Will flash befo.e us, out of life's dark night,
As stars shine most in deeper tints of blue |
And we shall see how all God's plans were |
right,
And how what seemed reprool was love
most true.
God's plans, like lilies, pure and white un. |
RE
But not to«day. Then ba content, poor heart! |
i
fold. i
We must not tear the elose-shut leaves apart; |
Time will reveal the calyxes of gold, i
And it, through pationt toil, we reachthe land |
Where tived feet, with sandals loose, may |
FRED KURT
VOLUME XIII.
rest, i
When wo shall clearly know and understs nd, |
I think that we will say, God knew the best! i
Hditor and Prop
¥
4a
votor,
HALL, CENTRE CO., PA. THURS
(
*
DAY, AUGUST 19
’
1880,
NUMBER 32,
White Poppies.
trees outside were in their first tender
spring airs were full of happiness and
leaves, ’ hope. Christine
Silky and erampled like a banner farled, | watering her lilies and pansies, and
Shadow the black mysterious soed that yields { somehow in helping her Frans’
The drop that soothes and lal's a restless | hands and hers had lingered happily
world; | together, So now love gave to this
Nepenthes for our foe, yot swift to kill, mortal an immortal's confidence. He
: : never thought of sighing, and fearing,
Holding the knowedge of both good and ill. and trembling. His sou! had claimed
Yoo dat t » x Ry ; Have hat
The rose for beauty may outshine thee far; | Chr istine, and he firm ¥ hi lieved tha
"he lily hold hereslt like soma wa sooner or later she would hear and un.
8 1'y a ; NOMA Sweet saint | derstand what he had to say to her,
Apart trom earthly grief, as is a stax i “Shallweride ™ he said, inst touch.
Apart trom any fear of earthly taint; i ing her fingers, and looking at her with
The snowy poppy like an angel stands
With consolation in her open hands,
was arranging and
i happiness.
i Alas, Christine could think of mamma,
Ere history was born, the poets sung | and of morning calls, and of what peo-
How godlike Thone knew thy compelling | Ple would say. But Franz overruled
| every scruple; he congquerad mamma,
{and laughed at society; and before
| Christine had decided which of her cos-
| tume's was most becoming, Franz was
| waiting at the door.
How they rattled up the avenue and
{ through the park! How the green
| branches waved in triumph, and how
| the birds sang and 8 about them!
| By the time they had arrived at Mount
St. Vincent they had ilorgotten they
{ were mortal. Then the rest in the
power,
And sncient Coros, by strange sorrows wrung,
Sought sweet oblivion from thy healing
flower
Giver of sleep! Lord of the land of dreams!
Oh simple weed, thou art not what man deems.
The clear-eyed Greeks saw oft their god of
sleep
Wandering about through the black mid
night hours,
Soothing the restless couch with slumbers
deep,
And seattering thy medicated flowers, i
Till bands were folded for their final rest, |
Clasping white poppies o'er a pulseless breast
| love's exaltation into love's silent, ten
| der melancholy, were just as blissful.
They came slowly home, speaking
only in glances and monosyllables, but
just before they parted, Franz said: “1
have been waiting thir'y years for vou,
i Christine; to-day my life has bles
| somed
| And though Christene did not make
{anv audible answer, he thought her
{ blush sufficient; besides she took the
And weary ones invoke its peacelul sleep. | (jlies from her throat and gave them to
Health has its rose and grape and joyful palm, | hin.
The poppy to the sick is wine and balm, i Sucha dream ot true love is given
only to the few whom the gods favor.
1 sing the poppy! The frail snowy weed! {| Franz must have stood high in their
The flower of mercy! that within its heart ! grace, for it lasted through many sweet
Doth keep a drop serene for human need, wee ks ane months fap a. Je fal
3 ee POW ¢ dirombergs 0 Newp + SnaG
5 A drgway balm Jue very inten smart | laid his whole life down at Christine's
For kappy hours the rose will idly blow; i feet. There was no definite engagement
Tre poppy bath a charm for pain and woe. | petweer, them, but every one understood
— Harper's Weekly. | that would come as surely as the end of
| the season.
{ Money matters and housekeeping |
i must eventually intrude themselves, but
| the romance and charm of this one sum-
| mer of life should be untouched.
{ Franz was not anxious on this score.
FRANZ MULLER'S WIFE,
{ His father, a shrewd business man, had
* Franz, good morning. Whose phil- | 2 :
osophy is it now? Hegel, Spinosa, | early seen that his son was a poet and a
Kant, or Dugald Stewart?” | dreamer. “It is not the boy's fault,” he
“None of them. 1 | #nid to his partner; *‘he gets it from
Faust.” { his grandfather, who was always more
“Worse and worse. Better wrestle | out of this world than in it." =
with philosophies than lose yourself in | So he wisely allowed Franz to follow
the clouds. At any rate, if the ets are | his natural tastes, and contented him-
We have a clearer vision; every hour
Kind heart and hands the poppy juices
male,
And panting sufferers Liess its kindly power,
am reading
abont, stick to Shakespeare.” in such real estate and securities as he
** He is too material. ile can't get rid | believed would insure a safe, if a slow,
of men and women.” > increase. He had bought wisely, and
*““They are a little better, I should | Franz's income was a certain and hand-
think, than Mephisto. Come, Franz, | some one, with a tendency rather to in-
condescend to cravats and kid gloves, | crease than decrease, and quite sufficient |
and let us goand see my cousin Chris- | to maintain Christine in all the luxury
tine Strombere.” i to which she had been accustomed.
“1 do not know the young lady.” | So when he returned to the city he |
“Ofcourse not. She hasjust returned | intended to speak to Mr. Stromberg.
from a Munich school. Her brother | All he bad should be Christine's, and
Max wasat the Lyndons' great party, | her father should settle the matter just
you remember?” | as he thought best for his daughter. In
*I don't remember, Louis. In white | 8 general way this was understood by
eravats and black coats all men look | all parties, and ‘every one seemed in-
alike.” | clined to Syupatiat with the happy
“ But you will go?" | feeling which led the lovers to deprecate
“If you wish it, yes. There are some during these enchanted days any alin |
uncut reviews on the table; amuse |sion which tended to dispel the ex-
yourself while I dress.” | quisite charm of their young lives’
“Thanks, I have my cigar case. 1 |idyl.
illtake » smoke, and think of Chris-| Perhaps it would have been better if
ire ® { they had remembered the ancient super-
For some reason, quite beyond ana’y- | stition, and themselves done something
sis, Franz did not like this speech. [Ha | to mar their perfect happiness. Poive- |
nad never seen Christine Stromberg, | rates offered his ring to avert the |
but y.t ke haif resented the careless use | calamity sure to follow unmitigated |
of her name. It fell upon some sou! | pleasure or success, and Franz ought
consciousness like a familiar and per- | perhaps to have also made an effort to |
sonal name, and yet he vainly recalled | propitiate his envious fate.
very phase of his life for any clew to| Bat he did not, and tow: rd the very
this familiarity. {end of the season, when the October
He was a Eindsome fellow. with | days had thrown a kind of still melan- |
marge, clearly cut features, and gray. | choly over the world that Lad been so |
.houghtfuieyes. Inaconversationthat | green and gray, Franz's dream was |
.aterested him his eyes lighted rp with | rudely broken—broken by a Mr. James
1 singularly beautiful animation, but
ssually it was as still and passionless as if
the soul was away on a dream or a
visit. Even the regulation cravat and
coat could not destroy his individuality,
and Louis looked admiringly at him,
and said: * You are still Franz Muller.
No one is juss likeyou. [should think
Cousin Christine will fall in love with
you.”
Agnin Franz's heart resented this
speech. It had been waiting for love
for many a year, but .he could not jest
ors ate about it. No one but the
thoughtless, favored Louis ever dared to
do it before Franz, and n> one ever
Barker Clarke, a blustering, vulgar man |
of fifty, worth three millions. In some |
way or other he seemed to have a great |
deal of influence over Mr. Stromberg, |
who paid him unqualified respect, aud
over Mrs. Stromberg, who seemed to |
fear him.
Mr. Stromberg's “private ledger" |
alone knew the whole secret: for of
course money was at the foundation. |
Indeed, in these days, in all public and |
private troubles, it is proper to ask, not |
** Who is she?" but ** Bo much is it?" |
Franz Muller and James Barker Clarke |
hated each other on sight. Still Franz |
had no idea at first that this ugly, un-
Spoke lightly of women before him, but | couth man could ever be a rival to bis
the worst of men are sonsitive to the | own handsome person and passionate
presence of a pure and lofty nature, and | affection.
are generally willing to respect it. !
Franz dreamed of women, but only of | pe
noble women, and even for those who |
fell below his ideal he had a thousand | had assumed an attitude of such ex-
apologies, and a world of pity. It wns treme politeness, and Mrs Strom-
strange that such a man should have | berg avcided him if possible, and |
lived thirty years, and never haverea ly [if not possible, was constrilined |
loved any mortal woman. But his hour | and unhappy in the familiar relations
had come at last. As soon as he saw | that she had accepted so happily ail |
Christine Stromberg he loved Ler. A |summer. As for Christine, she had |
strange exaltation possessed him; his | constant headaches, and her eyes were |
face was radiant; he talked and sung | often swollen and red with we eping.
with a brilliancy that amazed oven At length, without notice, the family |
those familiar with his rare exhibitions | left Newport, and went to stay a month
of such moods. And Christine seemed | with some relative near Boston. A
In a few days, however, Lie was com- |
peiled to nc ually consider the possibil-
ity of such a thing. Mr. Stromberg |
!
went, Frang followed her quietly,
wretched specter
They rarely or never spoke. Beyond
a grave incliaation of the head, or a
look whose profound misery he only
understood, gave him no recogni.
tion. The world held her name above
reproach, and considered that she had
done very well to herself.
Ten years passed away, but the
changes they brought were such as the
world regards as natural and inevitable,
Christine's mother died, and her father
married again; and Christine had a son |
and danghter. Franz watched anxiously
she
the ioy coldness of her manners, Some. |
times hie was conscious of feeling angrily |
jealous of the children. but he always |
crushed down the wretohed passion,
“If Christine loved a flower, would |
not love it he asked himself;
“and these little ones, what have they
fone?” So at last he got (0 separate |
them entirely from every one but Chris. |
tine, and to regard them as part and
portion of Lis love, i
Bat at the end of ten years a change |
came, neither natural or expected
Franz was walking moodily about his
ithrary one ht, when louis came to
HIgAE,
teil him of it. louis was no longer
also?”
found out that the beaten track is safest,
rang,” he said, "have you heard
about Clarke? His affairs are frightiolly
wrong, and he shot himself an hour
Ago n i
* And Christine? Does she know?
¥ ho has gone to her?
“My wifeis with her. Clarke shot
himselfin his own room. Christine was
the first to reach him, He left a letter
saying Le was absolutely ruined.”
* Where will Christine and the child
ren go!”
“1 suppose to her father's. Not a
pleasant place for her now. Christine's
step-mother dislikes both her and the
children.”
Franz said no more, and Louis went
away with a feeling of disappointment. |
** I thought he would have done some-
thing for hel.” he said to his wife.
* Poor Christine will be very poor and |
dependent.”
Ten days after he came home with a
different story. * There never was a
woman as lucky about money as Cousin
Christine,” he said. “Hardy & Ball
#4 wg
At
il
at Ryebeach settled on her belore her |
marriage by Mr. Clarke was now at her
disposal. It seemns the old gentleman
anticipated the result of his wild specu.
lations, and iu order to provide for his
wife, quietly bought and placed in
Hardy's charge two besutifully far.
nished cottages. There is something
lke an socumulation of sixteen thous
luckily empty, Christine and the child- |
ren are going there at once. I always |
thought the prope: ty was Hardy's own |
before. Very thoughtful in Clarke.”
** It isnot like Clarkeone bit. [don’t !
believe ne ever did it. It is some ar-
rangement of Franz Muller's.” !
** For"poodness’ sake don't hint such a |
thing, Lizsie! Christine would not go, |
and we should have her here very soon. |
Besides, 1 don't believe it. Franz took |
the news very coolly, and he hes kept
ou. of my way since.”
I'he next day Louis was more than |
ever of his wife's opinion. ** What do
you think, Lizzie?” he said. * Franz |
did not once loan me two thousand
dollars. 1 told him Clarke gave me
two thousand about the time we were
married.”
“‘Bay loaned, Louis,’ he answered,
‘to oblige me. [Here is two thousand, |
and the interest for six years. Go and
pay it to Christine; must need |
money. So I went.’
“Is she settled comfortably?”
“Oh, very. Go and see her often.
Franz is sure to marry her, and he is
growing richer every day.” !
It seemed as if Louis’ prediction would |
come true. Franz began to drive out |
every afternoon to Ryebeach. At first |
he contented himself with just passing |
Christine's gate. But he soon began to |
she
them toa drive, to rest awhile on the |
lawn, or in the parlor, while Christine
made him a cup of tea. {
1
| Tosome of them he had written im.
ferred to a financial secret known only | Farm and Garden Notes,
to the parties concerned in Christine's
A half gill of soft soap and walter, one
part of soap to twelve of water, poured
at the roots of cabbage plants is recom
mended ns suce death to white grubs,
tive that he
own somiort
had written only for his
Hut it was perhaps well |
they fell into Christine's hands; she
could not but a better woman for
reading the simple records of a strife
which set perfect unselfishness and
childlike submission as the goal of its
duties.
Seven years after Frang's death Chris
tine and her dwughter died together
of the Roman fever, and James Barker
Salt, it is sald, will prevent club root
in eabbages. Phrow a tablespoonful
of fine salt round the root after planting;
this will also destroy the cut worm.
Three years trial proves that two
spoonsiul of saltpeter dissolved in a pai
Of water will save winter squashes from
the borer. Apply once a week,
Avoid if possible an exclusive diet of
whale corn for poultry; it may put on
fat, but it is not as good for eggs.
corn be fed as only one among other
grains.
A few old rusty nails kept in the ves.
sel out of which fowls daily drink, will
be found more conducive their
health than nine-tenths of the nostrum
Lai
2
foods,
be
Frans's wealth,
“A German dreamer!"
Ah, well, there are dreamers, and
And perchance he that seeks
fame, and he that seeks gold, and he
that seeks power, may all alike, when
this shadowy existence is over, look
back upon life **as a dream wher one
awaketh." — Harper's Weekly,
Let
oO
As it takes no more hoeing or weeding
to raise first-class varieties of garden
vegetables than it does to raise inferio
or indifterent Ones, every one see Lh
propriety of choosing the best
Temato vines
Clreus Management,
While so much of our wonder and
admiration is expended upon the per- |
formance of the acrobats, the feats of |
he Iady riders, and the amazing sa- should always have
’ | some kind of support. The fruit will
grow larger, ripen sooner and more
easily, and will be better flavored than
if the vines are allowed to on the
ground
Have a good deal of faith in an over
ruling Providence, but plow early and
often, and use the cuitivator as often,
with plenty of manure in the hill; then!
with occasional rains, Provide wik
never hide a smiling countenance.
the most marvelous thing about the
circus is the circus itsell; that is, the
manner in which this great composite
body of men, wagons, beasts, tents and
innumerabla and indescribable para.
phernalia is transported about the
country, and made to appear.in work.
ing order within the shortest possible
For the benefit of our
readers who have not studied the matter
out, we will describe the arrangements
made by a leading manager for accom-
plishing this most wondertul under.
taking. First a number of capable
and intelligent persons are secured,
whose business it is to travel abead
and prepare the way for the coming |
These hire grounds suitable for |
the purpose, and engage bill-posters,
who placard the town with large and
brilliantly colored pictorial representa.
tions of the performances. They dis-
tribute printed bills containing the
names of the performers, and also give
a description of the procession, and the
route it will take in parading through
the town. These are distributed in all
10
no
The successful farmer de not ate
tempt too much. He concentrates, and
the more he does this the greater are
his gains He does not expeet large
crops from his lands without liberal
manuring, He recognizes the necessity
of constant study and watchfulness,
The application of sulphur sprinkled
upon fowls, while roosting or othe rwise,
with a pepper box, will destroy vermin
Coa. oil applied to thelr roosts in small
quantities will also kill parasites. Two
or three drops of whale oll, dropped oo-
casionally on the back of a len, or any
other bird, will kill lice.
The Dust Bath,
This is nature's renovator, and is as
necessary for cleansing the feathers of
fowis from vermin and promoting the
secretions of the skin from impurities as
ff Waller or vapor bath is to the hun an
family. If we wateh the habits of fowls
we will see an instinctive desire in the
j young and oid to have frequent access
to the dust heap. Before dusting they
will puiverize the material if in lumps
and will then adjust their feathers and
by the rapid action of their claws are
{enabled to dust thoroughly, and by
shaking rid themselves of lice.
Breeders who value their fowls and
ook to their comfort and health, usu-
ally provide them baths. But there is
another class of poultrymen who never
think of such things. We say to these
| go and do likewise, provide ample heaps
of road dust, coal ashes, finely sifted sand
or wood ashes for your fowls to roll in:
have it placed where the genial ravs of
the sun will keep it warm and dry, and
to make it more effectual in removing
vermin, mix a pound of the flour of
sulphur in the dust heap. Avoid using |
wood ashes that is wel or has the least |
wotsture in it, as the lye will injure the |
| fowls feet, head and wings.
M8
BPE
miles. Lengthened advertisements are
also inserted in all the local newspapers,
of us who have lived in smail places
know, for a general holiday to be held
upon the day of their grand procession |
through the town.
Previous to the company arriving,
the “tent men," with the baggage:
the
tent, make the ring, and prepare for
the various performances, fixing up
hurdles, gates and all the requisite
Hy the time the com.
pany arrives everything is prepared. |
The horses are stabled, groomed and
fed, the “tableau carriages,” as they
are called, sre washed, and everything
made ready forthe grand parade, which
usually starts from the tent about an
bour and s half previous to the first pers
formance. The show commences after |
the parade, the first one occupying
about two hours After this is over
the performers dine, anc rest until |
evening, the second pertormance oom-
mencing about seven, and terminating
Immediately after
the last act, the whole of the company
areadvisad at what hour in the morning
they will be required to start for the
next place This of course depen ls, in
The dust
henp should be set in a sunny hook of
the fowl-house or outbuilding and
should be accessible to the birds at all
x times. By pursuing this course you
ourney and the state of the roads. The | wil have reason to be thankful and
usual time for starting is about five
o'clock, and they travel at the rate of
five or s:x miles an hour. The tent and
baggage men leave earlier. Many of |
the principal members of the company
have their own living carriages, which
ure fitted up with every convenience,
and a very jolly and heaithy life the oo-
cupants lead. Two performances are |
invariably given each day, consisting of
i Al
the same time you are following nature
in her wise provisions and teachings, and
the benefits of comfort, cleanliness and
good health, which must naturally come
to your fowls from habitual dusting will
more than fully compensate you for
| your trouble.~Foultry Month'y,
Killing Large Weeds.
Some weeds may be effectually exter.
the usual equestrian and gymnastic | minated by cutting off the stilks close
feats, horse and pony racing, hurdle {to the ground with a scythe, The |
leaping, and Romian chariot races | proper time to do this work is soon
enn— | after they have attained their growth, |
New and Stale Bread. | but before the weeds have matured. |
| The branches of some weeds are so close
For Franz tired very easily now, and | py, nature of the difference between |
Christine saw what few others noticed: |, oo wri ctale bread is far from being |
he had become pale and emaciated, and | known. 1t is only lately that the cele |
left him weary and | ji 404 French chemist, Boussingault,
breathless. She knew in her heart that | {oi 00d an inquiry into it, from which |
it was the last summer he would be | iv vaculis that the difference is not the
wiih her. Alas! what a pitiful shadow | consequence of dessicatiou, but solely of
of their first one! It was hard to con- |; cooling of the bread. If we take
trast the ardent. handsome lover of ten | foc), bread into the cellar, or in any
janis ago with the white, silently | 51000 where it cannot dry, the inner part |
)appy man who, when October came, | of 11,0 Jouf, it is trae, is found to be |
had only strength to sit and hela her | bv but the crust has become soft
hand. and gaze with eager, loving eyes | .. 44s 0 longer brittle. If stale bread
into her face. : : [is taken back into the oven again it
Une day his physician met Louis on | jccumes all the qualities of fresh baked |
Broadway. “Mr. Curtin,” he said, | peag although in the hot oven it must |
9, ay friend Muller is very i'l. I con- | yuganbtedly have lost part of its mois
3 3 Po | ture. M. Boussingaulit has made a fresh |
He has long liad organic disease | |,.¢ of bread the subject of minute in-
It is near the inst. | vestigation, and the results are anything
. Does Le know it?" | but uninteresting. New bread, in its
“ Yes, Lie has known it long. Better | smallest parts, is so soft, clammy, flexi. |
sec him at once. ble and glutinous (in consequence of the
So Louis went at once. He found | goroh during the process of fe rmenting |
Franz calmly making his last prepara- | 4 baking being changed into muci-
tions for the great event. “I am glad | 1, 0in ong dextrine) that by mastication it
you are come, Louis,” he said; “1 was | i'wit), groater difficulty separated and
See this cabinet | Laquced to smaller pieces, and in its
I have not strength lett | 5.0001 est parts is less under the influence
burn them for me | of the saliva and digestive juices. It |
gone. This small | .ongequently forms itself into hard © ls
hours.
at
full of letters.
to destroy tiem;
when—when I am
to the ground that they can only be
severed from the roots by a hoe, which
should be very sharp in orlerto do
ease. Weeds should be cut quite early |
would give
if not the same
The seeds of some
weeds are entirely ripe while the petals
The ap-
vearance of the plant affords no indica-
It requires considerable pains to de-
muilens and Canada thistles, The stalks
must be cut several inches below the
of the ground or they will
A sharp spade or
a narrow steel b lade fixed to a handle is |
stalk is cut and re-
drop a handfui of
Arter the
pose,
A drop ot sulphuric acid ap-
life of the roots of |
weeds. Strong lye, paris green, or
London purple may also be employed
fascinated by his beauty and wit. The tle
hours passed like moments; and when
the girl stood watching him down the
moonlit avenue, she almost trembled to
remember what questions Franz's eyes
had asked her, and how strangely fa-
miliar the clasp of his hand and the
sound of his voice had seemed to her.
**1 wonder where I have seen him
befor2,” she murmured—*1 wonder
where it was ?” and to this thought she
slowly took off one by one her jewels,
and brushed out her long black hair:
nay, when she fell aslecp, it wasonly to
take it up again in dreams.
As for Franz, he was in too far an
ecstatic a mood to think of sleep. “One
has too few of such god-like moments
to steep them in unconsciousness,” he
snid to himself. And so he sat smoking
and thinking, and watching the moon
sink lower and lower, until it was no
longer night, but dawning day.
“In a few hours now 1 can go and
see Christine.” At this point in Lis
love he had no other thought. He was
too happy to speculate on any probabil.
ity +s yet. It was sufficient a present
to know that he had found his love,
that she lived at a definite number on a
definite avenue, and that in six orseven
hours more he might see her again,
He ch ose the earlier number, It was
just eleven o'clock when he rung Mr.
Stromberg’s bell. Mrs. Stromber
passed throu h the hall as he arm
and greeted him pleasantly. ** Chris-
tine’ and I are just going i break-
fast,” she said, in her jolly, hearty
way. ‘‘Come in, Mr. Muller, and have
a cup of coffee with us.”
Nothing could have de.ighted Franz
so much. Christine was pouring it out
as he entered the pretty breakfast par-
lor. How beautiful she looked in her
Jong loose morning dress! How be-
wishing wore its numerous bows of
p ue ribbon ! He had a sense of hunger
tmmediately, and he knew that he
nade an excellent breakfast; but of
what he ate, or what he drank, he had
not the slightest conception,
A cup of coffee passing through Chris-
tine's hands necessarily suffered some
wonderful change. It could not, and it
did not, taste like ordinary coffee. In
the same mysterious way chickens,
cpgs and rolis became sublimated. So
they ate, and laughed, and chatted, and
[ am quite sure that Milton never
imagined a meal in Eden so de-
jizht ful as that breakfast on the avenue.
When it was over, it came into Franz's
lesrs to offer Christine a ride. They
in the
pitifal lit note fron
formed him of this fact:
vy
Christine in-
but as he re.
as Christine asked him—wait
At first he got a few short tender
himself with grief and anger.
When these ceased he went to Boston,
He was
shyly by Mrs
where Christine was staying.
received at first ver
his love and misery, the poor old lady
wept bitterly and moaned out that she
could not help it, and Christine could
not help it, and that they were all very
miserable
Finally she was persuaded to let bim
see Christine, *“ just for five minutes.”
The poor girl came to him, a shadow of
her gay se.f, and weeping in his arms,
told him he must bid her good-bye for-
ever. The ive minutes were lengthened
into a long, terrible hour, and Franz
went back to New York with the knowl-
edge that in that heur his life had been
broken in two for this life.
One night toward the close of Novem-
ber his friend Louis called. *‘ Franz,”
hesaid, *‘ have you heard that Christine
Stromberg is to marry o.d Clarke?"
“ Yes.”
‘* No one can trust a woman.
shame of Christine.”
““ Louis, speak of what you know.
Christine ir anangel. 1f a woman ap-
pears to do wrong, there is probably
some brute of a man behind her forcing
her to do it
** I thought she was to be your wife.”
**She ismy wife in soul and feeling.
No one, thank God, can help that. If I
was Clarke J] would as willingly marry
s corpse as Christine Stromberg. Do
not speak of her again, Louis. The
poor innocent child! God bless her!”
and he burst into a passion of weeping
that alarmed his friend for his reason,
but which was probably its salvation.
In a week Franz had left for Europe,
and the next Christmas Christine and
James Barker Clarke were married, and
began housekeeping in a style of ex-
travagant splendor. People wondered
and exclaimed at Christine's reck.ess
expenditure, her parents advised, her
husband scolded ; pa though she never
disputed them, she quietly ignored all
their Suggestions, the went to Paris,
and lived like a princess ; Rome, Vienna,
and London wondered over her beauty
It is a
were sanding er the
flowers in bay-window, and the
packet is Christine's dear little notes;
bury them with me; there are ten of
them, every one ten years old.”
‘1s that all, dear Franz?
“Yes; my will has long been made.
Except a legrcy to yourself all goes to
Christire—~dear, dear Christine!”
“ You love her yet, then, Franz?"
““ What do you mean? I have loved
her for ages. [ shall love her forever
She is the other half of my soul. In
some lives I have missed her altogether;
let me be thankta. that she has come so
near to me in this one.”
“Do you know what you are saying,
Franz?”
“ Very clearly, Louis. I havealways
believed with the oldest philosophers
that souls were created in pairs, and
that it is permitted them in their toil-
some journey to purity and heaven some-
times to meet and comtort each other.
Do you think I saw Christine for the
first time in your uncle's parlor? Louis,
I have fairer and grander memories of
her than avy linked to this lite. I must
leave her now for a little. God knows
when and where we meet again; but
He does know; that is my hope and
consolation,”
Whatever were Louis's private opin-
ions about Franz’s theology, it was im-
possible to dissent at that hour, and he
took his friend's last instructions and
farewell with such gentle, solemn feel
ings as had long been strange to his
neart.
In the afternoon Franz was driven
out to Christine's. dt was the last
physical effort he was capable of. No
one saw the pusting of those two souls.
He went with Christine's arms around
him, and her lips whispering tender,
hopeful farewells. It was noticed, how-
ever, that after Franz's death a strange
change came over Christine—a beautiful
nobility and calmness { character, and
a gentle setting of her life to the loftiest
aims.
Louis said she had been wonderfully
moved by the papers Franz left. The
ten letters she had written during the
springtime of their love went to the
grave with him, but the rest were of
such an extraordinary nature that Louis
could not refrain from showing them to
his cousin, and then at her request leav-
ing them for her to dispose of. The
were indeed letters written to herself
under every circumstance of life, and
directed to every place in which she
had sojourred. In all of them she was
addressed as * Beloved Wife of my
Soul,” and in this way the poor fellow
had consoled his breaking, longing
by careless and hasty mastication and |
deglutition, becomes coated over by
suliva and slime, and in this state enters
the stomach. The gastric juice being
unable to penetrate such hard masses,
and being scarcely able even to act upon
the surface of them, they frequently re-
main in the stomach unchanged, and,
like foreign bodies, irritate and incom-
mode it, inducing every species of suffer-
ing—oppression of the stomach, pain in
the chest, disturbed circulation of the
hlood, congestion and pains in the head,
irritation of the brain, and inflamma-
tion, apopleptic attacks, cramp and de-
lirium.~1he Miller,
The Railway up Vesuvius.
The new railway up Vesuvius re-
duces the time rere] for the ascent
from an hour and a half to eight min-
utes. It runs aimost perpendicularly
at an angle of seventy degrees. The
train, says a correspondent of the Lon.
don Tvmes, consists of a single carriage
attached to a rope, and carrying ten
persons oniy, and as the ascending car-
riage starts another, counterbalancing
it, comes down from the summit, the
weight of each being five rons. he
carripges are so constructed that, rising
or descending, the passenger sits on a
level plane, and er emotion or
hesitation may be felt on starting
changes, before one has risen twenty
meters, into u feeling of perfect security.
The motion, also, is very gentle and the
effect is magnificent, if not, indeed,
grandly awful, as when hanging mid-
way against the side of the cone, one
looks from the window directly upward
or downward along the line, which, its
slight incline alone excepted, is perfectly
perpendicular. Dismounting at a little
station at the summit, one can scarcely
be said to clamber to the edge of the
crater, for the company have cut a con-
venient winding path up which all, ex-
cept the aged, heavy or feeble can walk
with ease.
for the same purposes with most ex- |
{cellent results. I is always best to |
make sure work with large and trouble.
some weeds.
Fleturess
Castile soap and water can be u ed on
oil paintings without danger, care being
taken, of course, not to wet the back, or
let water through the cracks.
For the ordinary dusting of pictures
a silk handkerchief should be used.
Heavy gilt frames are appropriate for
oil paintings.
An engraving would be made to ap-
pear cold by a bright and heavy gilt
frame, though sometimes a plain, un-
burnished one looks well. Of course a
margin of white paper is needed bolween
the printed surface and the frame, so as
not to make the contrast of brilliancy
too violent.
For hanging, use copper or silver wire.
Moths eat out the inside of the cord.
Water in which onions have been boiled,
rubbed lightly over the frames, will keep
insects away from them.
To Heep Wagon Tires on the Wheels.
A practical mechanic suggests =a
method of so putting tires on wagons
that they will not get loose or require
resetting. He says he ironed a wagon
some years ago for his own use, and,
bef re putting on the tires, he filled the
felloes with linseed oil, and the tives
have worn out and were never loose,
This method 1s as follows: He used a
long cast-iron heater made for the
purpose; the oil is brought to a boiling
heat, the wheel is placed on a stick, so
a8 to hang in the oil, each felloe an
hour. The timber should "be dry, as
green timber will not take oil. Care
should be taken that the oil is not made
hotter than a boiling heat, or theftimber
will be burned. Timber filled with oil
is not susceptible of injury by water,
and is rendered much more durable by
this process,
French Bread.
Asa rule French bread is always
sweet and good, and two things con-
tribute in a great degree to this—that is,
the manner and form of baking. They
never make athick loaf; no matter what
the size and shape, it is always thin,
and more than two-thirds crust. They
bake their bread until it is perfectly
cooked. The loaves being so thin, the
heat strikes through them very soon
after they are placed in the oven; hence
all the fermentation is stopped, while in
the case of large loaves fermentation
continues to go on after the bread has
‘“ Are the seeds of the future lyinff
under the leaves of the past?” is the very
pertinent inquiry of a knowledge
seeker. They may be; or it's barely
ossible that the seeds of the past are
Pin under the leaves of the future; or
wn eaves of the future may be lying
under the seeds of the past; or the seeds
of the leaves may be lying under the
future of the past—at any rate some
thing is lying, and if you expect to go
through a leated political campaign
without it, there's where you dispose of
and her splendor; and wherever s
pe been in the oven for some time, and of
course much of the sweetness is lost,
[Len in baking so long and having so
much crust, there is a peculiar sweetness
given which can he attained in no other
way,
RATATAT.
Only a Cripple.
Here is an incident, true in every de.
tail, which may serve as a text for some
of our readers to presch themselves a
sermon as they idle RWAY Lae summer
Sunday morning on the mountains or by
the beach
Three or four years ago a hall.
drunken young tellow, driving furiously
piong a crowded street, ran over a
ttle child and hurt his spine, The boy
wis the son of a poor cobbler. His bed
wai a straw pallet on a garret floor,
When the injary was pronounced in.
curable he was removed from the hos.
pital to this bed. There was nothing
for him to look forward to but years .
migery in the filth and half darkness of
the wretched garret, His mother was
dead. His father in the shop below
conld barely keep them from starving.
The young fellow who hurt him was
sorry, but what could he do? He was
a fast clerk on a small salary. Now and
then a kindly Irishwoman on the lower
fioor, as wretched as *hemselves, would
run up to "‘hearten the creature up a
bit;" but that was all. ‘i he only view
from the square window was the cor-
ner of the next roof, and the event of
the day for the miserable eripple was to
other. Foul smells and foul language
came up from the rooms below to him.
[here seemed to be no other possible
chance for his life than to die down into
still more brutal ignorance and misery,
and to go out like an ill-smelliny flame
into the eternal night,
Now, just at that time a little English
iad, who had come with Lis father to
visit the Centennial Exposition, while
passing along a quiet street of the city in
which the crippie lived, saw some pale
faced children peering at him out of the
windows of a large house set back
among trees, Over the gate was the
name Children's Hospital. The boy's
kindly English heart was touched; he
turned and went in, joked and played
awhile with the poor babies, and when
Lie went back to his hotel wrote to his
mother of the pleasant sunny rooms
with flowers in the windows and pie.
tures on the walls, and the motherly
nurses taking care of the little children.
** 1 have seen nothing which pleased me
better in America,” he said. “1 will
go again and tell you about it when I
come home."
He never went home. The gallant
ttle iad was taken back dead to his
mother a few weeks later. After the
viclence of her grief was past, in her
many efforts to show her gratitude to
the people who had nursed and been
kind to her boy, she asked to be allowed
to endow a memorial bed in the little
hospital which had pleased him so
much, and directed that it should be
filied with the most miserable
needy case known to the managers,
So it came to pass that our little cripple
on a warm spring day was carried out
of his garret, bathed, and laid on a pure
white bed in a sunny, pleasant room.
The other children in the ward called to
lim and made scquaintance; there were
toys, books, pictures for them all. The
good woman who lifted him smiled at
iooked like that, Outside the maples
reddened in the sun and rustled in at
built their nests. There were dainty
Httie meas brought to him. There was
the best skill the city could command
given to effect Lis cure. Good women
with their hearts full of Christ's love
came to tench him, and tell him of this
Savior. At his bed head
hangs a jittle card which he probably
never has read or understood: “In
memory of Richard —, of Sussex,
England.”
Something this little story hints in
a dim way of the infinitedinextricable
When
orobie influence on each other.
impulse to give x» moment's pleasure to
the little children as be passed, how
could be tell that he lifted this other
¢ up into the sunshine for all time?
“The word that we speak to-day,”
says the Arab proverb, * shall it not
meet us again and again at the turning
of the ways to show wus how it has
Children's Teeth.
A nother of severai children lately
told me some of her experience. A few
boy's teeth in the front of the lower jaw
were decaying badly. This was a dis-
appointment to the mother, who had
fed her children carefully on nourishing
from them. Studying the matter over,
be true, especially as ner husband, who
was very free in his use of tomatoes in
with his teeth. She had observed that
thought the acid of the vegetable proba-
then fourteen yesrs old, went to a den-
tist to have Lis weeth filled. Lo! there
hans a splendid set of teeth,” the dentist
told the mother. * There is nota cavity
in them. Unusually good teeth for a
boy of his age,” And the dentist had
no doubt that the teeth were better than
they would have been if the owner of
them had munched candy and pickles,
1 8 children usually do. ** They must be
cleaned, and that witbout delay,” he
said. So the tartar which had gathered
and crusted gradually at the crown of the
teeth was removed by the dentist, and
with it all appearance of decayed teeth.
Now the boy has nothing to do but to
keep his teeth in order to avoid den-
tistry bills in future. The younger
children are warned to avoid the older
brother's trouble by the daily use of
tooth brushes. From their father's
case they learn to avoid the opposite
extreme. His teeth are hopelessly dis-
colored, and a few are habitually Joo,
but the uscful tomato is no longer sus
pected as the cause. He had an oppor:
tunity to read some in a work on den-
tistry, and came to the conclusion that
hard ** scouring” of his teeth with
gritty substances, when he was a young
man, had worn away the hard enamel
of his teeth so that the strong coffee
he drank (during his soldier life
especially) penetrated and permanently
colored his teeth, 1 dislike to hear of
scouring the teeth. When they have
been neglected this may be necessary
to get them once clean. The dentist has
yeeuliar tools for removing tarter crust,
wat the yellow deposit on children's
teeth can be cleaned away as the dentist
does it, by any one, Take finely pow-
dered pumice stone and a little clean
goft pine stick to rub with. Dip the
pine stick into water and then in
yumice, and rub the teeth gently.
Afterward wash them with soap and
water, using a tooth brush. It is well
to use a little fine clean soap occasion-
ally for cleaning tle teeth, but plent
of pure water)a little warm in the col
weather) will suffice for cleansing the
teeth of persons of dietetic habits, To
make good teeth in the flist place be-
inning when we can begin, and allow-
os for ‘ancestry the mother should
eat piain and nutrious food, a varied
diet well supplied with bone material
as the grains are when it is not bolted
or sifted out, and lean meat. For young
children milk should be freely used,
and Graham and oatmeal also.—dmeri-
can Agricullurist.
IA
The conductor who divided his col-
lections with the company claimed that
it was a fare arrangement.
yourself.—Marathon Inde
A MINER'S LUCK.
Heturning Wealthy After a Long Abe
Widow,
The following romantic story is told
in a recent letter from Mt, Vernon,
Ohio: A story coinciding with the
romantic incidents narrated in the story
ofl Enoch Arden has been brought to
light in this county. Although the
parties most interested tied to keep the
matter quiet, yet your correspondent
Lins gleaned the facts of the case, which
are as follows: In the month of Feb.
ruary, 1854, Madison Robeson married
Miss Hettie J. White, of Howard
fownabip, this county, and lived hap-
pily with her for five years. The fruits
of the marriage were three boys.
ing the jold-mining excitement of 1850
Ro got the ** fever" and left for the
West to seek his fortune, his objective
point being Pike's Peak. At t he
wrote at regular intervals long and in-
teresting letters, giving glowing de.
scriptions of the country, and his pros.
pects; th n his letters came less fre-
quently and finally censed to come at
all. Years rolled by and nothing was
heard of thederelict husband or his
whereabouts, His family concluded
that hie was dead and had either met with
some mining rocident or had fallen
a victim to the vengeance of the
red man. Then a Philip Ray put
in an appearance and sought Mre.
Robeson's hand in marriage. She
finally consented, and after a lapse of
fourteen ous from the time her hus.
band left was married to Philander
Marlow, and left with her new husband
and her children tor Iowa, where they
purchased a small farm nesr Decorah,
and took up their residence there, Her
second husband died two years after
the'r removal to Iowa. Her sons have
grown to manhood ; one of them is mar-
ried and with his mouner is still living
on their little farm near Decorah. A
few days ago a stranger arrived in this
place, who proved, Enoch Arden like,
to be the long-lost Robeson. From his
brother-in-law, Mr. J. H. Milless, a
business man here, he learned the
whereabouts of his wife and of her ssc.
ond marriage. Robeson tells a ro-
mantic story of his wanderings ‘and ad.
ventures, snd of nis Juck and il] luck.
He says that after leaving this county
he went direct to the Pike's Peak coun.
iy and engaged in mining there, but
r a short stay left for California.
There he was not successful and left for
British Columbia, but in a short time
returned to California. From there he
went to New Zealand with a min-
ing chum, but meeting with bad
luck again returned to California.
When he arrived in San Francisco
he found a letter there for him from
a former mining companion who had
gone to Australia, He acceded to the
requests of his old chum and left tor
Australia, where he resided for sevoral
years, was successful, and sccumulated
several thousand dollars. He then de-
termined to return to this country and
to bi. family. Arriving in California
he was led into unfortunate speculstions
and lost all the money he had saved in
Australia, He then returned to mining
and worked forseven years in the mines
in Nevada, Idaho and Wyoming. Two
years ago, when the Leadville mining
excitement bioke out, he left for that
piace and located and worked what
proved to be rich claims.
twenty residences in that city snd runs
a large hotel and livery stable, and is
worth £300,000. He claims that he
wrote several letters home, but received
Dur.
country, he ceased writing.
yesterday for Iowa to see his family,
make atonement for his conduct, and
have them rejoin him and enjoy the
juxuries attendant upon his large for-
tune.
A Woman's Pive-minute Call,
Out of a five-minute call a woman will
gather inspiration for a good hour's
speech when she gets home. She will tell
her husband-—-who is #0 interested, you
know-—that Mrs. Stuckup has “new
furniture the second time within three
years, if I'm not mistaken, and lace cur-
tains with lambrequins and her black
silk dress made over and her hair done
up ina new way higher than she used
to wear it not becoming & bit and her
little girl's got her hair banged and all
dressed in white and is going to Miss
Giddigurl's school in the fall and her
cook's gone off mad and she says she's
almost tired to death and is going to
Swampscott next week and Miss “lirt
is going to have young Spoodlington
after all and Miss Smith's going to give
her a pair of bouquet-holders she says
they're good enough for her she
them cheap up to Ragshop's and Miss
Fetjuaon’ got a boy lots of hair on his
head and looks three months old every.
body says and Steve Beaker's awtul dis-
sipated they say and that Lovewell girl's
father ordered him out of thie bouse and
she's been taking on awful and declares
she will have him and the Stigg
have moved out of town and the BE
have Jost everything and Miss Smith's
bought a whole piece of ectton cloth
and—" By this time the husband is
asleep or has fled, © A man could never
make so much out of a week's visit. All
he would remember would be that
Brown's got a mighty pretty wife, or
keeps good cigars, or some other equally
inconsequential matter.
>
Words of Wisdom.
Knowledge may slumber in the mem-
ory, but it never dies; it is like the
dormouse in the ivied tower, that sleeps
while winter lasts, but awakes with
the warm breath of spring.
Do all in your power to teach your
children self government. If a child is
passionate, teach him by patient and
rentle means to eurb his temper. If he
is greedy, cultivate liberality in him.
If he is selfish, promote generosity.
It is not the same thing to be wise
that it is to understand; for many,
indeed, are wise in the things oi etern-
ity who cannot in any sort understand
them. Knowledge is nought if it hath
not its use for piety,
Good words do more than hard
speeches; as the sunbeams, without
any noise, make the traveler cast off
his cloak, which all the blustering
wind could not do, but only make him
bind it closer to him.
The richer one is in moral excellence
the nobler should he appear in kind
consideration for all around him. Penu-
riousness and selfishness would bedim
all his virtues, as rust will destroy the
luster of the most brilliant metal.
It is not the bee's touching on the
flowers that gathers the honey, but her
abiding for a time upon them, and
drawing out the sweet. It is not he
that reads most, but he that meditates
most on Divine truth, that will prove
the choicest, strongest Christian.
A Guano Lizard,
There is displayed in a glass case in
Baltimore a living specimen of the
uano lizard, lately brought from the
avassa islands in the brig Romanos.
This handsome crawler is three feet in
length, two-thirds of which is tail, with
the head of a crocodile, an enormous
mouth, with two dangerous rows of
sharp serrated teeth, two pouches or
gacs at the base of the jaw, a loose skin
of a dirty brown color, and a curicus no-
dosity near the tip of its nose. It isone
of the largest of the species ever seen,
and on account of the size of the sacs
and the nodosity, is supposed to be forty
or fifty years old by people who are ac-
customed to them in the guano islands,
It stands its change of quarters remark.
ably well, and is lively enough, but its
we temper is exnibi in its
wicked-looking eye and its attempt to
snap at a hand or stick that is placed
near it. Its appetite is excellent, and it
manages to get along comfortably on
+
craokers, cab , O10
MAUD 8,
| The Fastest Time Yet Pat Upon Hecord in
Any Actual Trotting Match,
| The most successful trotting m
| ever held in Chioago or the West ¢
in the presence of an enthusiastic mul.
[titude of 7,000 , the wonderful
| performance of William H. Vanderbiit's
trotting phenomenon, Maud 8,, erown-
| ing the meeting with a fittinz and puts
| liarly gratifying SVE. But oan ar
| to general expectation, the long
‘of match race between Masud 8, and
| Trinket, the latter Mr. H. C. McDowell's
trotting wonder, was a one sided affair
| beenuse of the far superior speed
(sessed by the first mentioned dis.
| What proved to be a tame and uninter-
| esting race was transformed suddenly
| into a contest against time, and the fast.
| est mile ever trotted in an actual race
| was placed to the eredit of the splendid
| chestnut mare, and an official record of
[2:134 for the mile given her amid the
| loud huzzas and pisudits of an Muiring
{and enthusiastic inge of
| clnsses of peorle. Rarus has trotted in
‘exhibition trials against time in 2:134
and 2:134, and St, Julien in an exhibi-
tion trial in 2:18); but Mand 8. mad
| her 2:134 in a race with another horse,
It was indeed a fitting climax to a series
ofase and earnest racing contests as
ever pleased the eye of the turf loving
public.
| Maud 8. is s beautiful chestnut mare,
| fifteen and a quarter hands high, by
Harold (by Risdvks Hambletonian),
‘out of Miss Russell (by Pilot, Jr.), she
‘out of a thoroughbred mare by Boston.
| Five years ago two well-known gentle.
‘men of the Queen Clty, viz, W. P.
| Haibert and Captain James H. Bugher,
| decided to take » trip to Woodbwn in
| order to look at the Jotnguan of the
farm. They succeeded in buying
| several, among them Maud 8. (then
| without a name), and snother filly,
| which looked so much like her that
| after Shey arrived home neither gentle.
| man could tell which one he indirida-
{ally had bought; but both wanted the
| same filly, and that one was not Maud
(8. They thought she was of the two
{the least desirable. After several dis.
| cussions on the subject it was decided
| that Mr. Hulbert could have his choice,
| which proved of not much value in com.
| parison with Maud 8. After the death
{ of Captain Bugher, Maud 8. became the
property of his son, Mr. H. M.
| Bugher. In due cours: of time she
{was put in training on his farm,
‘and, although she did very well, did
not meet the expectation of her owner,
| He decided to take her together with
| several others to Chester Park for sale,
i and, at Mr. Bair's suggestion, Mr. Geo.
| N. Btone, president of the Chester Park
| association, bought her. He paid what
| was then considered a 7ery good price
| for her, for he hed not much idea that
' she would prove the wonder that she
has. It was not long before she Dogan
{to improve rapidly under Mr. s
i skillful training, and consequently be.
{ came the talk of the horsemen of this
section. In September, 1878, she was
| given a trial at Chester Park, snd made
the mile in 2:23), and during October of
‘the same year she gave an exhibition
trot at lexington, Ky., in which she
made the remarkable time of 2:173,
{ which is the best four-year-old time
{ever made in public. Her name and
| fame spread all through the country,
| and soon many offers were made for the
imare, Mr. William H. Vanderbilt
{topped them all with $21,000, which
| was promptly accepted. — Pillsbury
| Chronicle.
A Sponge Plantation.
For many years the sponge fishers o
{ the Mediterranean have carried on their
| avoeations fo recklessly that there is
| reason to fear the supplies from the
| great sea (which yields the best article)
| will practically cease unless means are
| adopted at once to prevent the men from
| destroying—as they do at present in
{ countless numbers—the young animals
| while securing the full-grown victims.
{ Meantime Dr. Brehm, the illustrious
| natura'ist, bas suggested a pian for
| raising sponges artificially. Selécting a
{few hund specimens, he divided
| them into several thousand small pieces,
| fastened separately into perforated
|cases, which were then towed out
to the bay of >ocolizza. He then
attached the pieces to a wooden
framework, which was then lowered in
a shady spot to a proper depth. Ina
few months the sponges had grown to
the size of good natural ones, exhibiting
their distinctive black color. The au.
thorities regarded his schrme with
favor, but the fishers, with that ifnor
ant prejudice which has 80 often delayed
sound reform ir almost every industry,
attacked the plantation at night, de-
stroyed the frames and made off with
two thousand sponges. By substituting
copper wire for woodwork, Dr. Brehm
immediately checkmated the tcredo,
whose ravages in woodwork are noto-
rious; and by faste.ing the spanges to
stones it was observed that they speedily
attached themselves firmly,
In New Mexico,
Mrs. Lew Benedict draws this picture
of life in New Mexico: Weobserve an-
other Asian custom here, that of sleep-
ing on the roofs in summer. The heav-
eniy nights invite ene out, and the fiat
housetop is a much pleasanter place to
make one’s bed than the celiar like in-
terior, with its earthy scents. The
sluggard Mexican, who has killed the
long hours of the common enemy by
dozing in the sun, rouses toward sunset
and spreads out the colchon or wool
mattress, or a bed of skins if they are
very poor. The stairway isa rickety
ladder, leaning against the outer wall of
the mud house, and the rapidity and
ease with which the natives go up and
down is surprising. 1 Dave seen
Women Carry jars of water on their
head, not spilling a drop, as they
ascend the adden touching it only
with their feet. The old people—
mummies of the time of Cheops—go to
bed at sunset; a little later the children
and chickens Lop up the loose rounds;
then the lord of the estate and his dusky
spouse, with her cat; and lastly the
ratty dogs, moving nimbly as the trained
ones of the circus. Haul up the ladder,
and the castle is secure. There is no
fear of rain. There is no dew, no fog
or mist to blur the clear shining of the
stars above. The low wind is the very
breath of heaven; the bright night is
filled with sleep.
m———————
Chinese Treatment of Animals,
They ndver punish; hencea mule that
in the hands of a foreigner would be not
only useless, but dangerous to every one
about it, becomes in the possession of a
Chinaman as quiet as a lamb and as
tractable as a dog. We never beheld a
runaway, or a jibing or a vicious mule
or pony in a Chinaman's employment;
but tound the same rattling, cheerful
pace maintained over heavy or light
roads. by means of a tur-r or clack k,
the animal turning to the right cr left
and stopping with but a Lint frum the
reins. This treatment is extended to all
the animals thoy press into service.
Often have I admired the tact exhibited
in getting through narrow crowded
streetsand alleys by merely having a lit~
tle boy to lead one of the quictest of the
flock in front, the others steadily follow.
ing, without the uid either from a yelp-
ing cur or a cruel ford: Cattle, pigs
a birds are equally cared for.—ZTrav.
els on Horseback in Manchu Tarte
EIT ———
ry.
Strictly speaking, what is ** sauce for
the goose" is not always * sauce for the
er.” A man, for instance, cannot
realize the wonderful amount of felicity
there is in the possession of a $9 bon-
net with a gothic portico and flower
aden on the port side and a green
izard on the star quarter, and no
woman can understand the absorbin
happiness that lies in punching billi
balls for hours in succession at twenty.
A wan over-bored !—The editor.
Every tramp carries a rosmin’ nose.
Ta the best way 10 escape the fies.
“A uet
De ra ae
brought in.
is
et
-
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2
i
E
2
»
:
g
=
]
i
‘
:
Ȥ
H
x E22
fied
i gi Es
|
{
:
:
3 Hit
¥
gE
fa
¢
iy
n
uced in bullion from Jar
879, to April 1, 1 :
$16,147,131, or over $1,000,000 per
month. w
shows the same tender >y to melt
used to it was twenty-tive
cents 2 Wits fi and amen
follow the ice re
enough waste piece to make
ble suck.— New Haven
iles
A gentleman informed
the window of a house, !
ments were to be let,” knocked at
oor, and, attended by a :
Waka a he iling, ** are you to
my dar, ¢ smiling, *' are yo
be let with these lodgings? no
lied the piri, with vivacity,
oy to be let ey :
An ex us that
Chinese has an ear cut off
“a
soldier 3
time he deserts and is roe
born
suppose he could borrow a few surieu-
lar appendages from a comrade for such
a purpose.
glances 0
That haughty lover answered her,
“[ think your par-is green.”
The English courts have very Hue
sympathy with 4
ung heiress aged
criminally, for her acts. The court
held otherwise, and sentenced her to
three months’ imprisonment at hard
A pair of prospectors near Leadville
enconntered 8 pack of hungry and there.
fore fierce mountain lions. ©Oae of the
men fled to s high rock, cafrying away
o kled. But
gun, ud J
was still more
at
five cents a game.—~AMi
soript