The Violet's Grave, The woodland! And a golden wedge Of sunshine slipping throagh! And there beside a bit of hedge, A vollet #0 blue! So tender was its beauty, So douoe and sweet its air, 1 stooped, and yet withheld my hand— Would pluck, and yet would spare. Now which was best—for spring will pass And vernal beauty fly On maiden’s breast or in the grass Where would you choose to die? ~ From the Sicilian. dl 4 VOLUME XIV. The Farmers’ Banner, 00., PA. T HRMS: in Advance. ¥ NUMBER 6. Upheld hy hands made brown with toil, - - - And hearts both true and tried, Oh, patient tillers of the soil {The nation’s heart and pride), i : Send o'er high hills and valleys wide | uncomfortable about the visits. The gladsome word of right, That farmers in their hamble homes Have majesty and might. | then she saw Bertha and her betrothed. | The elder sister was too busy just now | to look into the schoolroom. Her in. | tended, Von Arnheim, who was an | officer in the Prussian army, was = | rather stolid-looking German, wiih Then monarchs proad shall honor, And blessings on you shed, For to the humble farmer They look for daily bread; Yet need ye not to covet The prince's power and wealth, For crowns contain no jewels Compared to peace and health. { eyes and a beaming smile. Bertha was { sallow, but had fine dark eyes and dazsling white teeth. | Sometimes Francia bestowed her | company and confidence on Gertrude; { at others she assumed haughty and dis itant airs, She delighted in outre Your wealth consists of me And fields of waving grain; 'WE green step down inte the library," exclaimed danced away Gertrude went down with a feeling | her absence the day before but quite | convinced that her reasons would sat- | sfy'any right minded person. | in some embarrassment, | But Eric told the story for her, and { add: d his own conclusion. He was his | own master, free to chooses where he { would; ard in the happiness that fol | lowed Gertrude forgot the misery of the | day when she had received her queer | valentine. A, | she had rapidly come within the i hour | “1 hear—and must say | am exceed | ingly synoyed to hear- Miss Winthrop," { the Iady began, with extreme acidity, | ** that you absented yourself the whole | of yesterday from your duties without leave. Was this x premeditated thing?" “Certainly not," Gertrude began, Your bomes made neat by labor sweet, i Prove you've not lived in vain. Then hail to the farmers’ banner, | From war and bloodstain free’ | May peace, good-will and charity i Ita motto ever be. ! i i i A QUEER VALENT'NE. i 1 “ Plishkin, plushkin, pelican gee, ! We think no birds s0 folly as we; i Plishkin, plushkin, pelican gill, : Gertrude Winthrop looked rather be- wildered as these sounds issued from the door which the servant opened for her. rl They're rum ones,” whispered the girl. Two children were hopping about the room as they sang the strange gih. berish given above. One was a keen, bo ed, Lie boy of nine; the othera prety: fair-haired girl of seven. The y had a hat on with a bunch of di- Iapidated cock’s feathers init. The girl wore a long ostrich plume, and various scraps of red flannel pinned here and there on her dress, “Oh, hallo! we're pelicans,” cried the boy, in no way sabashed; ‘that's the pelican chorus.” “ You're precious pickles, that's wot ** 1 ever I see sich stranger. Gertrude surveved her charges,and they in turn bestowed on her an unflinching stare. *“ What are your names?’ she asked, softly; ‘1 am going to be with you, and teach you, you know." “ Golly!" said the boy, * wouldn't it be larks if you never found out!—then you couldn't call us, you know. And it you cidn't call us we wouldn't have to come.” “ But I can easily find out,” said Ger- trude, with a laugh; “so you had better be gentlemanly and answer my ques. tion." “My name's Boderick, but they call me Rod. Her name's Nina, but I call her Ninny, ‘cos she's sa numbskull—all girls are numbskulis.” “This is your room, ma'am,” ex- claimed Jane, opening a door and going | in. When Gertrude stood at her side she turned the key. “See! you kin do this when you want to be alone; and you'll bless the min- utes you git from that pair. Im goin' to leave to-morrer a8 I give warnen regular—an’ my life wore out with them two young imps— savin’ your presense—which you'll find ‘em oyt, soon enough; and I wouldn't prejudice you agin ‘em beforehand ; and thal cantankerous old cat, either, down below—ol, they're a sweet Jot—" *“ Hush I" said Gertrude. “I cannot | listen to sueh—" “ Well, U'il say a good word for Master Eric,” sai¢ Jane, turning to go; “he knows Low to treat a poor girl. He's a gentleman--more the pity he's to be | some rare tropieal bird. So the months | impulsively; and then as rapidly as | Possible expiained the affair. : 30% ap * How do I look?" exclaimed Francia | here " Oy oy iat has happened one night as she opened the schoolroom | + About the coupons? asked door, * Good? 1 hoped the imps were | (rude. in bed. Heavens and earth how I bate | “Yes; it's a robbery, you know." children! 1 pity you, Miss Winthrop! | «| goarcely understood. I am sorry 1 sup pose you dream of an escape some | it is a great loss,” said the girl. day [some fairy prince Wwiliopen your | “Ji was taken by some one in the prison with a goiden key!™ { house,” Mrs. ChumJeigh went on, ex- “No; I expect nothing,” answered | gitedly. ** My desk was opened, the Gertrude. *'l am trying to cultivate | coupons taken and the desk relocked, the spirit which Tennyson eulogizes : | {he ey put in the usual place,” and she | fixed a penetrating glance on Gertrude's { face as she spoke, and adced, after a { second's silence: ** It was taken yester. { day after we left the house.” sven then Gertrude listened with a plite sympathy, without feeling any irect reference to herself in the case. “My servants I know thoroughly,” Mrs. Chumleigh went on. ** Even Bet- sey, the last comer, has lived with me before, and I cannot suspect them, only of course they must all be sesiched. You must feel, Mrs. Winthrop, that cir- cumstances are somew hat against you— you leave the house in such an account able manner—" Gertrude’s face flushed. “Shame on you, Mrs. Chumleigh. You insult me-because I am poor, Gere Than to walk all day like the sultans of old in a garden of spice.” ’ “Go away, Francia Dormer,” eried , from the next room. * You keep me awake with your chatter. You're worse than a nightmare.” “Oh, you angel! are you awake?” cried the girl. “Then good-bye. Miss Winthrop. Comfort is at an end. You'll have the house to yourselves to-morrow ; we're off on an excursion, all of us. The snow is just right, so hard and white— bah! what a poor fire you have.” And she disappeared. * She has everything,” thought Ger- trude, ** beauty and fortune " (she had heard fabulous accounts of Francia's estates in Caba), “and she will win Eric at Iast—who can doubt it ™ cause | have no one—" Still Gertrude, remembering certain | 3, : : words and looks, did doubt it in her | Eric opened the door with a mad burst heart. The next morning, when the | 8 this moment, and caught the sound party whirled away and she saw Eric 91 Meso inst words. tuck In the sables about Francia, snd | No one PF" Le cried. heard the cheery sound ot their voices, B€: “You have ) I have heard these insane suspi- | eions. the old schoolroom looked very co'd | 8. Mother, you are mad! 1 stake and bare; and she took up the dogs- | BY iife upon this young Indy 8 honor, eared history very shsently. Why do OU not suspect me ? Enter Setsey with a note and a bouquet | Mrs. Chumleigh faltered and turned —cream white camelias, blue heliotrope | Pe: and crimson bouvardia. i ‘My son, what have you to do wiih “Sure they was both left thegither, | this Joung person—"' but they're not after belongin® thegither, | *'I have this to de with her,” he as the post-by brought the letther.” { cried, impetuously. “I wish to make Gertrude dropped the history and | her my wife, if she can care enough for gloated over the flowers in delight. She me.” He ad never owned a bouquet of hot-house | ** My God!" exclaimed Mrs. Chum- flowers before, and then she knew | leigh, falling back in a half faint. whose kind heart had remembered her | * Nice time for your declaration,” when all the others were absorbed in | cried Francis Dormer, who had heard their own pleasure. It seemed as if | these words, and now hurried in with they would make the whole day fra- | restoratives, her own face ashen pale, note. : : i eyes; ‘‘atall events you won't be able There was only one person in the | Lo get a recommendation for your wife By this ti «e Von Arnheim had come in, and Bertha, To Gertrude the room seemed full of staring, talking people. She stood swaong them like a queen, | tall, erect, with undaunted eye, but a little to hope or fear. But as she read | lett the room. “Oh, I must go," she said, decidedly. C * I shall have to give the children a holi- | fierce pain at her heart our | Mrs. Chumleigh opened her eyes to My aunt is very sick and alone. | say, tragically: “Search her things !" and then sank away again. Yon Arnheim, with true politeness, said : “It vill not be vell to suspicioned someones mit not no grounds to stand on,” which was very lucid, but not much calculated to console Gertrude on the whole. Bertha saterying in one corner—husband and fortune and corc- net all to disappear like the baseless fabric of a vision. Oh, it was too “Sure and [ wull that, ’said the girl | “Golly, a holiday!" cried Rod, in “Oh, I've got a famous " “No michiel,” said Gertrude, anx- Oh, we'll be quiet; you'll be sol Charging and Drawing the Kiln, The following description is from ** Pottery in the United States,” an | articie in Harper's Magazine: Passing | to and fro aie a number of jaunty young | fellows earrying trays and boards full of { ware to the kiin-rooms, where groups | olay boxes, calied * segears.” They are { ing it with ware for burning. The cup | seggars are shallow, holding but one | row of cups, which must stand each on {its bottom, or foot, for burning; the | dosen or more, every plate being sup- olay pins projecting from the sides of | the seggar, Look inside the great kiln that towers fifty feet into the alr; it is almost * charged.” One above another, reach- | ing nearly to the inner roof, the seggars | are piled in slender columns, with small | spaces between each column for the passage of flame and smoke. The crevices of the clay boxes are carefully sealed with bands of fire-clay, fer the merest touch of sulphurous gas | or smoke would tarnish the bright white Ware The last column is now piled within the kiln, the great iron door closed and | luted round with clay, and every crevice stopped. It is already evening, with shadows deepening into night; the fires are started in the surrounding furnaces; they erackle and roar, the smoke of their . burning issuing in volumes from the op. One by one the lights that have been flitting to and fre are extinguished, the workmen are all leaving save two, who from time to time during the night will feed the fiery furnace mouths that already begin to cast their glare across the darkness. We have followed the crude material to its first burning. one of the most im- portant stages of the manufacture, for on its success largely depends the after. character of the ware. The biscuit must be fired just so as to obtain its full contraction, else the glaze, however perfect in proportion, will inevitably erack or *‘ erase." The preparation of the glase is quite as important, for it is composed of ma- terials subject to great contraction, namely, quarts feldspar, Paris white, borax, and a little lead These, with the exception of the | latter article, are 'fritted ” or melted in an oven till they run like molasses; they then harden, and are crushed and ground in water. Having lost much of their contractility, Shey are now ready to coat the ware, and will fuse and barden on the biscuit without **cras- ing." Unce more, it is morning, and we visit another pottery, arriving in time to witness one of the most siirring events of the day, ** the drawing of the kiln." Fifty hours the great dragon mouths of the furnaces at its base have been belching flames and heated gases into its sealed interior; forty hours ago they cessed, the fires dying out in ashes. The massive door is open; mounted on Indders within are several young men handing down seggars to their compan. ions below, who pass them outside to the men on the platform near the kiln steps. The ware is turned out exquis Piles and piles of di hes and strings of cups are delivered to a little company of Inds, who bustle off wth them to the group of giris standing in the doorway of the room yonder, from which there soon proceeds a musical click, click, Spoopendyke's Bardines, { ‘Look here, my dear,” said Mr. | Bpoopendyke, tossing over the Inces and {ribbons in his wife's bureau~ rawer, | “ what's become of the ean-opener? | | don't see it anywhere.” { “What do you want of it!" asked | Mrs, Spoopendyke, fluttering vp to pro- { tect ber trinkets, and trying to gain a | little time, | “1 want to open some sardines with Lit," retorted Mr. Spoopendyke, abandon. | ing the drawer and hunting through the | work-basket. * Think I want to comb {my hair with it? Imagine I wanted to write a letter with it? ell, I don't. 1 | want some sardines. What have you dove with tf” ‘You might take your big knife,” | recommended Mrs. Spoopendyke. “The large blade is just the thing for that.” bored away at one corner of the box, ** Hadn't you better put a paper under the box? You'll get the oll all over the table cloth,” suggested Mrs. Spoopen- dyke. “* No, I won't either," said Mr. Spoop- and the oil spattered. * Serve you right directions. *' It would teach you to put the can opener where you couid find it, What kind of housekeeping do you call this, anyhow?" he yelled, as the biade slipped out and closed up on his fingers. “ Did you hurt yoursell, dear?” asked Mrs. Spoopendyke, anxiously. **No, I didn't burt myself,” grinned Mr Spoopendyke. “The dod gasted knife struck the bone, or I would have been dead wita agony an hour ago, Give me some ether!" he howled. ** Fete me some chloroform! S'pose I'm going to saw at this box any more without an anesthetic? Got an idea I'm going to chip off a couple dosen fingers without something Ww deaden pain? Where's the laughing gas? Give me some laughing while I extract these measly old fish,” end Mr. Spoop- endyke pranced around the room, and then jabbed the knife into the box again, and ripped away as though he was run by steam, *‘ No use to hide away from me!" he yelled, hacking away at the box with all his might. “y Brow you're in there, and there can't be any dod gasted sardine that ever was built get away from me. Come out, 1 tell ye!” and he seized a fish by the tail and slung him across the room. “You're transacting business with Spoopendyke now!" and he clawed out ] of mashed sardines and Slapht} them down on & plate. * Won't you spoil ‘em, dear? asked Mrs. Spoopendyke, dodging the flying beads and tails. ** They won't be very good if you open "em that way.” “Oh, won't they?" howled Mr. Spoopendyke. * If you don"t like "em that way, what'd! you ask them for? Maybe you want me to take "em out in | a baby carriage, P'raps you've got an | idea I ought to climb under "em and lift | ‘emout. Maybe you want me to get in that box with a boat and take "em out with a seine. Well, I won't, 1 tell ye. Give me the tongs, I want that fish at the bottom. Where's the tongs? Gone to get married to the can-opener, haven't they and Mr. Spoopendyke grabbed another fish and fired him into the grate. “Be patient, my dear.” said Mrs. Spoopendyke, soothing.y. *“‘Make the opening a little wider, and they'll come out.” “Ain't I patient?" shouted Mr. Spoop- endyke. “raps you want me to sing to ‘em, ‘I wish | was an angel and with the—' dod gast the fish! Come out of that!" and with a wrench Mr. Spoop- endyke hanled off the top and disciosea the mangled remains of his enemies. ‘Now give me a lemon," and he eyed the repast with anything but content. ment, “Stir around and get me a lemon; quick now.’ “Upon my word, my dear, I don't believe there's a lemon in the house,” Wages and Cost of Living In China, There have been many books written on China, from the time of Abbe Hue to the present. But most of them have beer too general to present any precise idea of the actual social conditions in that vast empire, Recent official obeervation has, however, done much to clear away the mists which obscure real life. Most of the trades which we have are carried on in the Central Flowery land. There are there the tra- ditional ** butcher, baker, and candle. stick maker.” But there is a peculiarity which is not found in civilization. The artist obtains no higher rewards than the ordinary craftsman. There appears tobe a dead level for all who work with hand or finger. A master work. man in any of the trades in China gets $3.00 per week, or $186 per annum. Bat the workman only get RELIGIOUS NEWS AND NOTES, Brooklyn has 449 resident clergymen, churches without pastors, The Methodist church of Cagada gives at the rate of $1.50 a member for missions. There are now seventy-three Congre- gational churches at the South. At the close of the war there were but two. Of the books published in land the past year 975 were theo. - okie, or Biblical, out of a total of The Roman Catholic church in the United States lost last year by desth one bishop—Dr. Pellicer, of An. tonio—and eighty-five priests. Church-debt-raiser Kimball has vis- half that remuneration ; $1.50 per week, or $78 per asnum, is the average rate, and it is not every workman who can obtain it. Young- sters or women get fifty cents per or, or $36 per annum. It will be observed that these are the wages paid in the higher walks of art and mechanics. There is only one class of operatives who are here handsomely rewarded. ceased English missionary, was eon- Gold and silversmiths do a little better. | verted in a circus in his native city of The silk reeler or spinner sometimes | Manchester during a ited one hundred and sixty churches and raised directly and ind some $11,000,000 from church members. During the last year 105 new Congre- gational churches were organized, as against sixty. seven in the previous year, and $05 ministers ordained or installed, as against 178 in the previous year Mr. Haury Morehouse, the lately de- . gospel service. gets from one dollar to two dollars pes | He kept two vehicles and men distriba- day, because the silk Las to be reeled off | ting Bibles, the cocoous in a given time, and ns 8] The Baptists have ninety-one ordained consequence, the work has to be prose- | ministers in New Hampshire, and 9.077 cuted day and night. Consul Denny, st | members. They organised two churches Shanghai, ine § res out the SX pense) the past year and received 163 members per annum, of living in connection with | : same the Sonpansation specified: wei | by bapcis, snd Tost oxnstly the OF Raster. rapa A Workman. | The Rev. Dr. William Shelton, for 872 Pos ood, on oh | filty-one years rector of St. Paul's Epis- ' 3 | copal church, Buffalo, N. Y., re- ee | Signed at the age of eighty-thres. The ... 965 | parish has voted him the use of the The » authority adds: “The mas. ‘rectory during his lite. same authority adds: A@ WIAS- | Of Baptists in Great Britain and Ire- ter generally lives at the workshop, | 4 2: ha . *liand there are 3.454 churches, 1879 where he has, perhaps, two rooms, be- | =, isters. (of who y Sides n piace to cook in. The house. | co business), and To aaod hold furniture may be estimated at from $20 to $30. The ordinary workman, if | 3LPILSRE WOON § CAMS: The tou married, will share a small house with | scholars attending Sunda schools, 800 + a friend, and occupy one room, and have | 000. There dug ore y Soin ] “ access to the kitchen, He may live with | leges ith thirt Sh Ona Cun his parents, in which case his earnings | ‘°6% With thirty professors. go to the common tand. Under such —_— circumstances $10 to $15 will cover One Hundred Years Ago. the value of the household furniture.” . A We have no form of Chinese jife in | The Paris Figaro recenily issued a California, except in very rare cases, | Paper which contained clippings from which corresponds to that which is here | the newspapers of 100 years ago. It portrayed. here are only a few Chinese WAS a retrospective glance at 1750, families in this city. Nearly all the | Prominent among the news details we Chinese are male adults without any | have several columus devoted to the family ties or connections, at least in | War in America.” We read that on this country. But we get a glimpse of | February 98, after taking leave that peculinr state of things in China | Of the king and the royal family, the also. Consul Denny farther says that | Marquis de Lafayette left on his second if the Chinaman is a bachelor, and away | nee to America—not as a tive from his family, he will either sleep at this time, but as a duly commissioned his emploner's for a consideration, or | major-general of the American army, st-y with a friend; in either case his add so recognized by his king. The whole inventory consists of a box with | Count of Rochambeau took leave of the his clothes and his bedding.” Thisis » king on March 18, preparsiont w complete portrait of a Chinaman in [setting sail for Am So great California. He is got up in light march. | Was the desire of the troops to partici- ing order. | pate in this expedition that private sol- But the common laborer, whether in | dlers who had been granted leave of finld or kitchen, does not get anything | absence went at their own expense to like the wages of the skilled artisan. | Brestin order to embark with their The farm Iaborer, during harvest time, | comrades. The news from America gets, besides his meals—worth about |givess report of an interview on the ten cents from ten cents to fitteen | twentioth of September between Wash- cents a day, or from seventy cents to | ington and Rochambeau at Hartford. £1.05 a week. He can be hired by the | Rosbambean wrote to France as follows : month for from $1.50to $1. If he gets: * While going to this conference in permanent employment he is willing to | company with Admiral Ternay, who sccept $12 per annum, with board and | was infirm, the vehicle broke down, 1 lodging. If he works for shorter terms, | #ent Ferien, my first aide-de-camp, to fifty cents a month will suffice for house | find & biacksmith, who lived a mile rent, and $9 per annum will keep his | from where we were. He returned and wardrobe in repair. But there is a informed me thal he found the man sick grade below these free isborers known | With fever, and he assured my aide-de- #8 coolies, who are often giad to work | camp that a hatful of guineas would not for five cents a day.~BSmm Francisco | induce him to work at night. I ordereo Rulletin. | the admiral to accompany me, and told ' the blacksmith that General Washington ; ; would arrive at Hartford that night to The Emperor and the Gipsy, | confer with us the day following, and In the recently-published memoirs of | that the conference would not take piace For rent, ete..... For clothing. .... thrown away on that flibberty gibbet | pleased!” exclaimed the boy, with a do- Miss ein, as is no better nor s—" the children were pummeling at the door, ** you may yo now-—i you." were two or three scratched-up | desks and some Lorn books, aiso a globe | over which strange maps had been | smeared with ink and red paint. ** Well. Roderick,” she said, turning | to her little subjects, who had mos* mu- | tinous faces, ** whet do you study?” “Ob! when I feel like study, I like | Roman history best. I'm goin’to be a heathen snd worship Jupiter. I built an aitar to him the other day; got one of Francia Dormer's white boxes, and printed * Jupiter Ave Imperatore’ on it, made a pile of sticks and matches, and poured co.ogne over it for incense, amd, golly! how it burned! That wasa , you see; and Francia says she'll sacrifice me the next time I med- dle with her things. Isaid to her: ath, youve got no feeling tor Ro- man “1 am a heathen, 100,” cried Nina. “You ain't; you're a Christian,” cried Rod, as if he were hurling at hera most bpiohitious epithet. ** I—1 won't bes Christian all alone!” eried Nina, with a roar. As it was, she hurried her prepara- tions only remembering to take the ing of her own reluctance to lose sight Her ride in the cars laste. only hali an hour, and she found herself before the little brown cottage which was the only home she remembered, as she had been left an orphan to this aunt's care in her earliest childhood. Poor and plain as everything appeared a thrill eame over her at sight of it, and she hurried with real anxiety into the house, whose door | Aunt Rachel was in bed, and a neigh- | bor's girl had come in to wait on her. | face, and ber eyes lighted up as she saw the young girl in whom all ber loveand “I feared I had done wrong to send for you,” she said, ‘but there was a little business to settle. Do you know, much ! Von Amheim, who was really not mercenary, strove to comfort her. Gertrude walked up to the nursery unchallenge!., and sat down in the empty roon:. The children had been spirited away somewhere—the whole house was in commotion. Eric's words, so strangel sweet, seemed somehow to span this sudden storm like a rainbow—but never, never would she listen to him while there was a shadow on her good name. It was not hard to search the meagre contents of Gertrude’s trunk ; but every- thing was tumbled out in a summary way, pockets examined, even linings ripped, and she heard some one say, “Wot's the use, she went out yester- day,” with a feeling of desperate ex- asperation. She laid back her clothes, all of them, sadly, for there was nothing now to do but to go. Bhe strapped her trunk her- seif, and did not wait for leave-taking. Only she had a kindly feeling for the imps, after all, and looked about for them as she went downstairs. She left also a note for Mrs. Chum- leigh, merely giving her address. Then with such a feeling of desolation as had never yet wrung lier young heart, she started out. my love, the age of miracles is not Gertrude smiled and held her aunt's click, click, for the ware riogs like the bells on the tower of Nankin. The ware is pow ready for enameling or painting overglaze. Mind Reading by a Little Girl, The performances of a Boston girl, aged eleven years, are thus related by the Herald of that city: She bad dark hair and eyes, and a decided:y nervous temperament. She { was blindfolded, and the thimbie was placed on the top of an upright piano on | the opposite side of the room from ' where she stood. The gentleman of the {house and one of the chilaren then placed their hands on her shoulders, and fixing their minds on the thimble, she was told to proceed. Turning squarely around, she walked directly | to the piano, teit her way till the cor- | ner was reached, then lifting her hand nearly as high as she could reach she | placed her hand on the thimble. The performance caused surprise, and | elicited a round of applause. The child | was then taken to the other side of the ‘room and blindfolded in, the work | being securely done. This time the | thimble was | much lower than before. The same | | persons placed their hands on the stam mered Mes. Spoopendyke. ‘I had one,’ “Oh, you had one!" prociaimed Mr. Spoopendyke, * only you're just out. If you'd been brought up right you'd only need an awning and a family on the top floor to be 8 grocery shop! S'pose I'm going to eat these sardines raw ! Think i'm going to swallow these fish alive P Gimme something to put on ‘em, will Fe : > What would you like my dear ?" queried Mrs, Spoopendyke. “Ink, dod gast it! Fetch me some measly ink! Got any nails ? Can't ye find some Jaudanum somewhere ? " and Mr. Spoopendyke projected himself into the closet and pranced out with a bottle of arniea. ** There,” he howled, as he dashed the contents over the sardines, “there's your fish all ready for you, and the next time you wsnt me to open wy ye Spoopendyke flopped into his easy chair and picked up the paper. “Don’t you want some of the fish? asked Mre. Spropendyke, after a long pause. “No, I don't,” growled Mr. Spoopen- ke * But this is a fresh box,” said Mrs. Karatygin, the famous Russian actor, | will be found the following character. istic anecdote of the Iate Emperor | Nicholas: His majesty happened one day to be engaged in inspecting a state penitentiary in one of the provincial seats of government, and took it into his head to question some of the con victs respecting the nature of the offenses for ih they we: e suffering punishment. ** What are you here for,” he ssked of one. “1 am innocent, imperial majesty,” | replied the prisoner, falling on his knees; “a victim of false witness! A church was robbed--a beadle knocked on the | head—the peasants caught hoid of me | and I knew nothing about it.” Turning to another the czar asked: ** And you? * False witness again, imperial majesty. | A peddier was done for, close to my | house, I never even dresmed of such a | thing.” *“ And you?” said Nicholas, to | a third. * Sheer malice, sire. One of | my neighbors conveyed a lot of forged | notes into my pockets, and hid away a | lithographic stone in my bedroom. I | am as innocent as an unborn babe.” i The emperor, obviously bored by | unless he repaired our vehicle. ‘You are not iiars,' he said, ‘for I read in the Connecticut papers that Washington was to hold this conference; it is the public service in which you are engag- ed-you shall have your vehicle mend- ed at the hour named.’ ” Resolutions, It has been remarked some thousands of times that it is easier to break than to make good resolutions. Yet it is well to make them ocoasionally. for the good of one's conscience, which requires periodical waking up. resolu- tions enter into all the schemes of life. While the inebriate is breaking off from his cups the industrious farmer and mechanic are laying plans for sn in- crease in gains, closer economy in ex- penditure and a handsome addition to the cash account. While the impulsive man decides to exercise more restraint in the use of profane and other imp language, the husband determines he will be more patient and gentle in his family and more thoughtful of their comfort. While the self-indulgent per- The nearly eriand seven.y hed a sane phone, almond fine sha nniform before, roughly Pp soap tain can hol is accordi ITEMS OF INTEREST, Te rema—— # fu Chili at | to the recent census Swits. that way. —Meo Jhoté ont baiy that cannot be Btalewnan, ndians poy id schoolgirl, and as he blscksnake Le ruthless . that she is incursbly in- is sald to recel He had iii th which are made in Pony toilet, are 3 prot some aromatic Fer & BOAD or the ike. combination along with the as vermilion is well. stylish mueh | 10 lied the and the perfume and EE with it ‘Just tha know molded with the shape After being left on the to may P ordinary in hot the off all the water. y soluble in this mediam, y taking an issolving it £ Tt be readily ges i outof £8¢ SOAPS are to fancy, with z i Lh i bag £ : 3 i 2 B : f are made with either potash a and the drying oils, the most familiarof which are those extracted from hemp- seed, and sometimes cotton seed. These oils are deficient in stearine, and on that account are not availiable for hard SOAPS. potash is much more marriage of the #8 Ave'sia, aud the Prints Biephauies it was deferred frequently employed as the alkali § stead of a h affinity for water that even when com- bined tallow or the non-drying oils, it will not make a firm sosp such as w retain its character in a phere. : The Ladies Wanted Some Breakfast. A few years ago a steamer drew into the Bay of Naples with a lot of oF Amercans. The night had ‘been | Several years ago mericans. night years rough, and the shi was behind time. ern Massachusetis 1t was ten o'clock y, and no fast. The sti captain had to economize. A stout, quiet a stout hickory stick, went tain and be for a litt there died in West- ii 5g g 2 b these successive protestations of guiit- |50R is eschewing his favorite vice, the lessness, cast a glance along the line of | Minister resolves hed, be wil be more prisoners until Ei eye fell upon a rag- | faithful with his people, the doctor with | his patieats, the inwyer with his clients : § | and ged, wretched-looking gipsy, whom he “ Hullo! What's therumpus? What's becgoned forward with the words: g wasted his nd very fond] up his deck. The stout, quiet : : I | Bpoopendyke, displaying the sardines in {and the hired servant or workingman “I've told you that the house—all I have—might be taken away from me any time. fiat do you think of my having a couple of thousand sent me yesterday -enough to pay off the morteage, and leave me five hundred dollars?” the row?” cried a good-natured voice, and a very handsome young man en- tered rather hurriedly, and stopped short at the sight of Gertrude. “They wei to be heathens,” said Gertrude, with an embsrrassed smile. ‘ Well, I venture to say it would be hard to find two greater young heathens | in our enlightened country. Excuse me for bursting in so uncermoniously. 1 wanted, to quench these y ungsters’ noise. My mother.” “Oh, I forgot,” answered Gertrude, nervously; * she especially spoke of her dislike to noise. In a little time I shall learn—" Eric was forgetting everything—even the two young savages who were swarm- ing Hp on bim—in looking at the won- derful beauty of this young girl's face. Surely. if Mrs. Chumleigh seen that face in anything but the half darkness in which she delighted, she would never have brought Gertrude Winthrop into be house. “ Well, Eric, what are you about?” cried a merry voice. ‘‘ Going to wollop Rod ? I'll goin for that, as he used u a good bottle of my Frangipani in his slat incantation,” And a little dark, brilliant-looking creature, in black gauze and amber, fluttered in, and stared rather supereili- ously at Gertrude. She reminded our heroine somehow, of some brilliant South American insect, there was so much flash and eolor about her. Her only real beauty was in her eyes, whick were large, intensely black and shining, but also, at present, a little malicious; for Francia Dormer took in at a glance Gertrude’s beauty, and she was not yet secure of Eric Chumleigh's heart. She nodded carelessly. *“The governess, I suppose? Como, Eric, the count is downstairs, and wants to consult you about something —whether tomatoes will grow in Saxony, I believe. He has learned to dote on them, and wishes a garden of them around his castle.” > Eric took leave with a and Rod, who had been silent for the space of five minutes, said : “1 hate Francia Dormer. Shes a snake!” Gertrude kept the irrepressible ones uiet till their tea time with her inven- ons. She had some talent in that line, and felt glad and relieved to find that ghe held a most potent weapon to be used in her new kingdom. Rod had really an active mind, and she won him by her praise; Nina fol- lowed bis example; and when he found he could gain the pleasure of hearing a story by diligence, he began to apply himself. : Eric said the children were growing tolerable he quite enjoyed loo $ “1 should say you dreamed it, auntie.” “* Look in the top bureau drawer, and you will see the check. Ithink the sur- prise and joy of it has been too much for me. To think Jamie has remembered me now that his fortune is made in India! My godson, you know.” Gertrude had the check in her hands, and viewed it with delight. * Yeu see, my love, the action to fore- close the mortgage has just commenced and I could not rest a moment till thi business was arranged. You cun do it for me, and Bess here will keep me com- pany.’ Gertrude was quite relieved to find that it was anxiety more than illness which had prostrated her aunt; and she at once set about rerforming ber task, which she did by calling on an old friend —a lawyer—to aid her. She had the satisfaction of leaving the old lady calm and comfortable in the evening. She found it quite dark when she reached the house, and felt a symptom of relief that the tamily were not yet returned. The children, to her Surprise, were in bed, su state of affairs which she did not doubt had been accomplished by bribery. But the silence and rest were never theless sweet, and she sat down to the hemming of some interminable ruffles with which Mrs. Chumleigh kindly kept her employed. After a time shut- ting of doors, laughter and gleaming lights woke up the quiet house, but no one disturbed her. The next morning Francia swooped in just as lessons began. “Well, you look serene,” she said. “Do you know there's an earthquake downstairs?” “Oh, what a fibber you are, Francia Dormer !” cried Rod, indignantly. “If there was an earthquake iv would hove up “Well, look out ! Bad boys ° swal- lowed the first thing,” said Francia. “This, however, is a financial one. They've iost ten thousand dollars in eovpons. ** Lost?” questioned Gertrude. “Yes; just fancy—Bertha’s dowry! It’s been stolen, and, what's worse, Von Arnheim won't be married without it. He is desolated, but firm; it's the law of Vaterland.” Francia was just as carciees, as in- souciant and smiling, as she talked of this loss, as if it had been a pleasant bit of Zosip., ao hs pot of suid eval ras on the 0 : The childien were not about; but when she reached the corner Rod darted out at her. His face was smeared and tear-stained. “They say you're goin’ away,” he cried out, *‘and I wasn’t Lo see you again; but I've cheated ’em bully. I want to give you this valentine. To-.day’s the fourteenth, you see, and I like you bet- ter than any other girl I know. I fixed it yesterday—painted it all myself— there's two hearts on a meat skewer and an altar and a bride-all right, you'll see.’ “Thank you, Rod,” cried Gertrude, with a sob in her throat as she stooped to give the boy a kiss. “I do not ex- pect any other valentine.” And she smiled through the tears that dimmed hr eyes as she looked at the huge envelope with its official-look- ing seals,to which Rod had confided his treasure. A moment after a quick step came be- hind her. Then some one took the iii tle traveling bag out of her hand, and, looking ups she saw a friendly hand- Some face looking down at her reproach- ully. “(Going without one word for me? cried Eric. And from that moment hall her bur. den seemed lifted. She found herself actually smiling as slie reached her aunt's door: ** What is that billet-doux you are carrying so carefully?” exclaimed Eric, as he caught sight of the huge envelope. “ My valentine,” answe Gertrude. Then a moment atter sheadded : ** Rod's work.” They stood in the little parlor, then by the window, asthe young girl turne over the epistie, and finally opened it with "a half-hysterical laugh. Such a villainous-looking couple as Rod had executed ; but he had gilded a ring on the bride's finger which obliterated her hand, and had aleo a cable of the same burnished metal on her neck. “ByJove! what's this?” exclaimed Eric, seizing the paper; “do you see what the rascal has tiea on with blue ribbon for a faney cover—my mother’s coupons, by all that’s jolly I” Gertrude stared in speechless sur- prise. The child had nicked a whole sheet of coupons and used them as a cover for his chef d’msuvre. The neat little squares and numbers had evidently tasen his fancy. Thee were only a part, to be sure, but he could probably give an account of the rest. Of course he had no idea that the beautiful paper he had found in his mother’s desk was so valuable, flo gazed at it a woment, and then joined in the laugh. Sue looked en she noticed the open-eyed en. in once in & while; to which Ro wonder, | child's shoulders, and again she turned i squarely around and walked straight | to where the stool was standing. { she approached it she pul out her hands, {and felt her way cautiously. In thisat. | titude she walked up to the stool, and, | while in the act of passing her hand | over the top, jarred the stoor and | knocked the thimble on the floor. The ! third time the thimble was placed in a | different past of the room or the hinge | of a fold ng door, about five leet from the floor. It was in a place not easily discovered by a person with his eyes open. The blindtolded child, with the hands of the other persons on her shoul- ders, walked straight to the spot, and, after feeling on both sides of the door for a few moments, passed her hands slosg up the edge until she struck the thimble, which fell to the floor. She declined to perform any more, saying she was tired. When asked how she knew where the thimble was, she said she could not tell. Itwas impossible for her to see, and no one suspected for a moment that ske was playing af trick. It seemed to be a clear case of “ mind reading,” the exhibition being the same kind, if not in degree, as those given by Brown a few years ago. Three Receipts to Cure Corns, First—Bathe the corn with strong bo- rax water; then shave it closely, but be careful and do not make it bleed, Place over the corn a white felt corn plaster, and wear it constantly until the corn has disappeared. Every night and morning wet the small cavity over the corn (and in the plaster) with a little borax water, or if preferable, the pulp ot a lemon, The corn plaster can be obtained at any druggist’s. Second—Keep the foet clean by fre- quent ablutions with warm water, and wear hat, soft boots or shoes. With- out the latter precaution, corns «ill generally return even after they appear to have been perfectly removed. Third—After soaking the feot in warm water for n few minutes, pare the corns as close ps possible with a sharp knife, taking care not to make them bleed. Place upon the part affected a small, circular piece of leather or buck- skin, spread with some emollient plas- ter, and havea hole in the center cor- responding to the size of the corns. They may now be touched with nitric acid, by means of a small glass or wood toothpick, due care being taken not to allow the liquid to come in con- tact with the neighboring parts. Re- eat this process daily until the offender sufficiently softened to admit of re- moval. We would rather hire a mule than | neat iayers. “ How'd you get it open?” demanded | Mr. Spoopendyke. { “With the esn-opener,” replied his | wile; “I found it in your tool box, you put it to sharpen it.” “Maybe I put the lemon in there to sharpen that too,” granted Mr. Spoo- pendyke, pegging away at the box and looking un with his mouth full, but re- cognizing the taste of vinegar, he made some remarks about some people only needing a handle and a cork to be a for- tunatus jug, and having finished the lot, he demanded why his wife hadn't asked { r’'em if she wanted some, and went to bed with some incoherent observations on the absurdity of folks sitting around like martyrs with fish within resch.— Brosklyn Eagle. a Japanese Dress. To each class of the Japanese popula. tion a special description of clothing is assigned, varying in material according to season. These may be divided into the ordinary, festive, mourning, profes- sional, official, state, and other special fashions of dress. ‘The laborer, farmer, and haadicraftmen do not overburden themselves with clothing; a loin eloth forms their light summer raiment, while their cold weather costume is usually comprised in a wrapper and short girdle. The better class of arti- sans and shopkeepers wear a haori, or saort dress over all, which out of doors, and from the thinnest gauze which they wear in the heat of summer, they change in succession to single cotton cloth, to lined cotton, and, fiaally, to cotton-wad- ded garments in winter, silk clothing be- ing reserved for festivals, visits, or great occasions, Firemen wear thickly-pad- ded and quilted dresses, with mittens and caps to match them. Small offi- cinls and many of the better class of tradesmen use [the hakama, or split petticoat, the dress being tucked into it, and the haori worn over all. On spe- cial ocoagions, and in place of the haori, an upper dress resembling a pair of wings, hanging from the shoulders. It is formed of a material resembling the hakama worn with it, but it is seldom seen at present. The kami shime, or winged jacket, is also worn, on special ocensions. The ordinary dress of the daimios resembles the latter some- what, But it would require a special chapter to describe it fully. The dress of females of the lower and middle classes differs only in the quale of material, the fashion of all g alike. In the national mode of dr th hair, now falling into disuse, the locks are gathered to the crown of the head, tied there, and the quedo carried over the forehead, 8 patch being kept elean- i * Of course, you, too. are here on a false | charge?" ‘* Not a bit of it, your ma- | jesty,” replied the Trigan; “1 stole a! pony from a tradesman.” * Stole =n ony, did you?” said the cmar with a laugh, and hen, addressing the gover. nor of the prison with well-assumed sternness, said: ** Turn that good-for- nothing rascal instantly out of doors. I cannot allow him to remain a minute longer in such honorable and virtuous company, lest he pervert all these good innocent people. — London Telegraph. Ministers and Acters. Remarks are often made implying that the ministers are overpaid, or at least, that such men as Me. Beecher and Dr. Storrs are extravagantly paid. The fols lowing figures, given by the New York Tribune, are worthy of being borne in mind: Beecher gets $20,000; Edwin Booth, $100,000 a year; Dr. Hall, of Fifth avenue, and Dr. Dix, of Trinity, get $15,000; while E. A. Sothern earns over $150,000 as Lord Dundreary, and John E. Owens plays thirty weeks annually for £00,000, Talmage reaches for $12,000, and Joe efferson plays forty weeks at “Rip Van Winkle" and earns $120,000. The scholarly and gifted Dr. Storrs has $10,000, and Maggie Mitchell earns £30,000 to $50,000. Dr. Cuyler works hard and faithfully for $8,000 a year, while Dion Boucicauit finished a sea. gon as the * Shaughraun,” etc, at £3,000 a week, and his managers scolded him in the public prints because he would not play longer at the same Prive, Dr. Potter, of Grace church, has $10,000 and a parson the eloquent Dr. Tiffany has $10,000; the once vigorous, now deceased, Dr. Chapin got $10,000; while Fanny Davenport earns $1,000 every week she plays. © 3 What Next! Don't trouble yourself about the next thing you are to do. No man can do the second thing. He can do the first. If he omits it the wheels of the social Juggernaut roll over him, and leave him more or less crushed behind. If he does it, he keeps in front and finds roomt? do the next again; andso he is sure «© arrive at something, for the on- ward march will earry him with it. There is no saying to what perfection of success a man may come who begins with what he can do, and uses the means at his hand. He makes a vor- tex of action, however slight, toward which all the means iustantly begin to gravitate. Leta man but lay hold of something—anything, and he is in the high road to success, though it may be very long before ha ean walk com- own one, on the principle, “Of two evils a thie Jeiaed Boson Post » shaven, on which it rests. to the interests of his employer. Iltisa time when men think over the follies and errors of their past lives, and would giadly turn into the pas of improve- ment if they can find it. But to many the way is dark and uncertain, and, anless they have strong minds and willing hearts to guide them, they will wander back into the old and well- worn track. Knowing Birds, A little colony of fan-tailed p 8 is kept at the works of the Union Manu- facturing con.pany, at North Man- chester. AtChristmas two young birds were presented to a family living three. quarters of a mile from the miil. The birds were placed in a cage and soon became domesticated and apparently very much at home, so that a few morn- ings since it was thought safe to place them in the house pre for them and let them loose. They remained quiet and contented until at 11:30 o'clock the whistie of the mill sounded. In- stantly they flew into the air and struck put in the direction of the sound, But before they were certain about their direction the whistle ceased and the birds thereupon lit upon a neighboring rool and waited, evidently knowing that in half an hour they would hear the familiar sound again. The moment the twelve o'clock whistle began they mounted straight into the air until they were able to locate the direction accurately and a woment later they landed among their old comrades. — Hartford Courant. The Ten Biggest Cities. Following are the ten largest cities in the United States, under the new cen- sus: Rawk, Firstoes sass Second. ..... Cities. Sopubution ceonns Now York... ..1,205,600 « «+++ Philadelphia. .... 316.84 cv ranBIOOKIYR . cos veins Ch . + «San Francisco... 2838, New Orleans.... 216,140 One of the Yiceroy’s Duties. Among the other duties entailed on a new viceroy of Ireland by his first draw- ing-room is that of kissing the cheek, not only of each fair debutante, but of every lady present, The severity of the duty may in eany instances be tem- red, yet the administering of many undreds of courtly kisses in one even- ing must suggest tlie physiological fact requent repeti- ortably in it. turn to pain from too tion.—Zondon Truth jp o- * wi begged Files iil i : 5 £ E i uietly proceeded to thrash the ¢ thrashed Lim till he could not and then thmshed every of dared to show his face, as well the crew. Then be went do made the cook breakfast. This an old Californian, ** Dave Colton,” we used to call him up at Yreka. course, an act like that was with death almost. ** on the | the high seas,” and all that sort of offense | daunted of men could have ever was charged; and I know not bow much gold it cost to heal She Wotind n uead and dignity of the ship. But this Cal H oy In po Jor he ~ Se amp Sor - Lo Te t w : : a ho tn the fides af thr rime coud ik SEER 28 knew him, and he would not see them hungry. He would have that coffee if it cost him his head. Dave Col- ton! 1 heer he is dead now. We first | eyes got aoquainted one might in Yreka | have left while shooting at each other.—Joaguin o to-day ‘presum ridicn nowhere in the race.— Boston Too Cold for the Fish. : A remarkable circumstance in con- | The inundation of 1771, which swept nection with the recent cold snap was part of the old Tone bridge the effect on the fish al the : large schools being driven in shallow water. 8 water on land. An old negro t thirty-one very fine large bass in this way at Raccoon Key, near Warsaw. On Saint Catherines a net thrown in the fish difficulty fn hauling the nets in. Others were observed to kill with oars. This novel occurrence was erally all along the islands to the southward and in the rivers near the coast.—Savannah (Ga.) News. The progress of =m spoken by en different people is ao to be as follows: English, which at the Som eon: no inten at It is needless to say asked for an explanation.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers