Why the Slippers were Never Fuished. The lilies grew beneath her hand On slippers that are ssen no more! Their race of usefulness is o'er! They're buried under time's dark sand, And nothing can their life restore, As when in young love's flowery land, The lilies grew beneath hor hand On slippers that are seen no more! They would-—if finished have been grand! But she became my wife before They were half done! vou understand How, then-—shough now the work's a bore! The lilies grew beneath her hand On slippers that are seen ho more! Washington Nar, Grandfather Snow, Grandfather Snow came down, one day, And what do you think ? And what do you think ? He's as old as the hills, but his heart in gay, And over the country he sped away. His hair was as white as & cotton ball; And what do you think ? And what do you think ? He gayly pranced over the highest wall, For his dear old logs weren't stiff at all. Wherever he went ho raised a breeze ; And what de you think ? And what do you think ? He climbed to the tops of the tallest trees, As cool sand nimble a8 ever you please ! A train went thundering over the ground, And what do you think ? And what do you think ¥ Old Granther after it went with a bound Sly old fellow ! he made no sound, He caught the cars, and he held on tight; And what do you think ¥ And what do you think ? The train had to stop in the road all night, And couldn't go on till broad daylight ! Old as he was, he stayed ont late! And what do you think § And whai do vou think ? He sat on the posts of th the door-yard gate And danced on the fence at a high old rate! But the children cheered for Grandfather still ; And what do you think # And what do you think ? He spread himself out on the top of a hill, And they all coasted down on his back witha will | He was none too oll for a grand go-bang And what do you think ¥ And what do vou think ? To the tops of the highest roofs he sprang, And down on the people hs s3i 1 witha whang He had no manners, "tis sad to say ! <= And what do you thiuk ? And what do you think ? For a chap like him to gut in the way, And trip up people by night and day? But his heart was white and pare within: Now what do von think Now what do you think ? To be glad snd jolly § For a long-faced Granther I care not a pi DOTEr & 30, 4] We none of us know what we should do: Now what do you think ? Now what do you think ? If we only came down for a month: or two, And conldn't stay here the whole vear through. Corlherine 8 Halberg. OUR TROUBLES. I. Jack and I had been married a year before we went to housekeeping. People say that the first year of marned liie is the most trying. All I ean say is that we did not find it so. We never had a word of serious difference so long as we boarded, but almost as soon as we were settled in our tiny, pretty house, our troubles began. Jack and I have never been quite able to decide when our unpleasantness com- menced. He pnts the date of it in June, when Lettice Green went to Europe, and left me her canaries as a parting gift —two of the loveliest little vellow and green darlings that ever were seen. That is quite absurd, though. The real trouble began a month later, when he himself brought home the great, clumsy, blun- dering Newfoundland pup, which was the pest of the house for many a long day. It wasn't so bad at first. Jack only laughed when hesaw the canaries, and said: * Why, Madge, little woman, you'll have your hands full now, if you never did before” * Nonsense I” I said ; “it's nothing to take care of a pair of birds.” But Jack only laughed. Such darlings as those birds were! 1 can’t say that they ever learned to know me—not really, you know. They flut- tered just as much and were just as hard to catch the last day that I let them out of their cage as they were the first. That was one of the things that Jack ob- jected to-—my letting them ont of their cage, L mean. Jack wrote, you see—for the press, I mean-—and the back parlor, which was also his study, was the only place where I conld keep the birds. * Really, Madge,” said Jack one day, “I wish yon could find some other place to keep those birds, or else I wish you would not let them out of their cage. Their favorite promenade is my desk, and I never can find a paver that I want after they have been rooting about there.” “ But, Jack,” I said, “they must have | their morning fly, poor little dears, and | I have always let them have it while you are taking your constitutional, so that they need not distwrb vou. If you would rather have me let them out while you're at home, though" “Thanks, not any,” said Jack. “It's bad enough to see the results, withont having them flopping down bodily npon my head. Never mind. I'll be careful to leave my inkstand uncovered, and they'll be drinking the ink some dav, and that will be the end of them.” “Jack, you are very unkind,” I said: but Jack only langhed, and went out of the room. 1 was always careful to see | taat the inkstand was covered after that, though. It was soon after that that he brought home his dog. I never shall forget that day. He knows that I never could bear dogs. I am afraid of them, horribly afraid, and I never thought he would be so cruel as to bring one of the great blundering things home to scare me out | of my poor little wits. ! * Here, } e,” he said, as he came in, leading the thing. “As vou are so | fond of pets, I have bronght you one | worth having.” z Then the thing rushed at me, with its great red month wide open, and its white teeth shining, and its eyes glaring, and before I knew it, the two big hairy paws were on my shoulders, and the frightful face close inst mine, “Jack!” I sereamed—* oh, Jack! take him off, or I shall die.” Jack laughed, and caught the creature by his collar and pull im away. ““ Why, bless your heart, e¢!” he said, “the dog won't hurt you. He is only a pup—nine months old to a day— and as full of affection as he can stick. He only wanted to make friends with you. “ But I don’t want to be made friends with in that fashion,” I said, as well as I could speak for erying. Jack laughed, and caressed me, and | apologized ; but it was then that our troubles began, for all that. What a nuisance that dog ‘was no one who has not brought up a Newfoundland up can imagine. Now it was one of the best table-cloths, net only pulled off, but torn into rags; or my lace set— Aunt Clarice’s wedding present—which had been laid out to bleach, had disap- peared bodily, all but a fluttering end which hung out of Hero's mouth as he careered about the yard; or it was one of Jack's dress boots chewed to a pulp, and grave shogh Master Jack looked that time. I only wished his i had suffered oftener; but he wok precious good care to keep them out of the way. 2 poor i i VOLUME X1V. HE HALL, CENTR E CO., PA. MARCH 1881. i Pp: A WI vaso Ee I HR A SH ES NUMBER 10. Mr. Philip Phelps, and I an aunt, Clar ee Yehon, both of whom had de »clared their intention of leaving us their respective heirs. Aunt Clarice was a childless widow, and Unele Philip a bachelor. Both of them were peculiar in their way, and full of whims and “fads” We had never been able to en tertain them hitherto, but as soon as we ware settled in our own house each of them had promised us & visit. It was time for Uncle Philip's arrival soon after Jack brought home that wretched dog Uncle Philip had always seemed very fond of me, and I resolved to appeal to him privately to induce Jack to banish the horrid thing from the house Uncle Philip was stout aad rubicund, with a bald pink head fringed with white hair, and a laughing blue eye—two of them, in fact. Unluckily formy private plans, he took most kindly to Hero from the first ; and as I watched the softening of his eye over the pup's clumsy gam bols, 1 realized that any attempt to in fluence him as 1 desired wounkl be ut torly in vain. We were all collected in the back parlor on the night of his a rival, he sitting in a large easy-chair in the window. He was just giving us a graphic description of a recent visit to New Mexico, when he started, and clap ped his hand to his head, with a sudden ejaculation, “1 thought you told me vou had no mosquitoes here,” he said, with a puz zled air. Neither had we, as Jack and 1 both assured him, and after a moment he took ap the thread of his narmtive. Crack! another slap at his bald head, and an other break in his tale. Omack! crack! erack ! “What do you mean by denying mosquitoes *' he cried, indignanty. “1 know that mosquitoes and malaria are fwo things that the inhabitants of a swamp will never confess to; but I thought that you two were above such weaknesses.” Our earnest, ‘‘ But, indeed, dear uncle,” was suddenly interrupted by a sudden flutter of wings, and a douche of cold water exactly on the center of Uncle Philip's head. Jack sprang to his feet. “It's those beastly birds, Madge,” he said. *‘‘ They've been chucking their seeds at Uncle Philip, and now they've finished up with a shower-bath. Tak- ing their bath in their drinking-cup, too, the little brutes! It's too bad. 1 vow I” Uncle Philip was silent, but his face, as he glared at the cage overhead, was a study. I apologized, eagerly, abjectly, and, 1 hoped, to some purpese. Then we adjourned to the front parlor. and finished the evening quietly. Uncle Philip was up bright and early the next morming. I was surprised to find him in the dining-room when I went down, before the bell rang, to see that the table was properly set. Hero was beside him, blinking np with his great stupid eyes, one big paw laid upon Uncle Philip's knee, and his red tongue lolling out idiotieally. Uncle Philip greeted me affectionately, though, I fancied, with rather an air of constraint. “Did you sleep well, Uncle Philip # I asked. Unele Philip hesitated. “It was quiet enough most of the night,” he said, “but I was somewhat disturbed toward morning.” “Not used to the city noises? I asked ; but Jack, who had come in be- hind me, laughed. “ Nonsense, Madge I” he said. forget that Unele Philip lives in Chi- cago, which is not exactly country. It was all those binds of yours agin. Unele Philip's room is directly over my study, and the things tamed up at dav- light, as usual. Nobody oula sleep in sach a confounded racket. Now con- fess, Unele Philip. was not that the trouble ¥ “Why, Jack!” I said, half-erving. “It is too bad of you. The little dar- lings couldn't disturb anvbody with their singing, and you know there is not another window in the house where they ean hang. Uncle Philip's is the only other east room, and they must have the morning sun.” “Oh, pray don’t disturb vour arrange- ments on my acconnt,” said Uncle Philip, rather grimly. “No doubt I shall get nsed to it in the course of time.” Just here Hero made a diversion by an unexpected and successful spring at the chop on Jack's plate, wi h which he vanished through the back door, while Uncle Philip and Jack laughed and ap- planded. Uncle Philip stayed with us less than a week, growing daily more silent and testy. When, on the fifth day, he an- nounced his intention of leaving us, I could not feel deeply grieved; but Jack WARS. “It is all very well for youn,” he said. * Uncle Philip is no relation of yours, and you have no old claims of affection and kinship pulling at you. It is not his money, as yon very well know, but hie is the last one of my mother's family left, and to have him driven out of his nephew's house by those ridienlons pets of yours— well, it's hard, and no mis- take.” “ Nonsense, Jack! The birds have nothing to do with it,” I said; but Jack shrugged his shoulders. “All right,” he said; ‘‘ but a man of Uncle Philip's age and habits can't stand being wakened at daylight every morn- ing, and disturbed at all hours of the day and night besides.” “I don’t disturb him,” 1 said. “You do,” said Jack. “You spend your whole time prancing up and down stairs, opening and shutting the window just below his room, because you fancy that those blessed birds are dying of too much or too little air.” “ But Jack,” 1 said * the poor little things are sitting, and they need con- stant care. Youn wouldn't have me let them die, would you?” “I'd have yon consider the comfort of “You said Jack. ‘‘ However, the thing is done now. Nothing would induce Uncle Philip to spend another night here. He has business to attend to in the city, hough, and has taken board in Nintht street for a few weeks.” course, but I really could not feel very unhappy at losing a guest so utterly unfeeling and inconsiderate. Besides, ceive her, and she could now come as soon as she felt inclined. It was the very day after Uncle Philip left that I found Jou-jou, the female bird, lying dead upon he floor. it indignantly. “I'm not such a brute as you seem to think, Madge,” he said. feather © of then though,” as point of his penknife something that lodged in the beak. * Here is what did the mischief. Stolén from my desk, too, by Jove! A clear case of Foetie justice,” X At was a tiny bit of red wafer which he held out for me to examine, and of course I had to acknowledge that it had alone caused the catastrophe. I buried my little pet mournfully, and thought tails. T.ook here, Jack and I were % * 3 : 0 bringing another to replace her, but Jack put his veto upon any such pro ceading. “Bat, Jack,” I said,” * Bijou will die of loneliness.” “Let him," sald Jack, savagely, and that was all Well, Bijou didn't die of loneliness Un the contrary, after reflecting on the situation | heart, and launched himself into sueh a than ever Not melancholy sight of the nestful of col little hinesh speckled eggs seemed to more frantic even the dash his gavety in the least the truth, I was slightly (thongh 1 would died would have told Jack so), for, disgusted have try that triumphant, rollicking, gurgling song bore the slightest resemblance to a wall of despair Wesaw Uncle Philip tolerably often, though he no longer staid with us noticed, however, that could difficulty be persuaded to enter the back parlor Even the Bijou's singing, which penetrated the closed doors, made him start and wince in a manner which was simply absurd, thongh he never said anything he sound of il We were in daily expectation of Aunt Clarice’s arrival, the date of which was not quite certain, as she was staying with friends who continually urged her t prolong her visit. After the day for her coming to us had been three times fixed iO mind not to expect her until I saw her. Consequently i had dismissed all thoughts of her from my mind $384 when Jane came up to tell me that a lady was in the parlor, who declined to send up her name, “An doubt, : agent, no to shut up Bijou, in any case.” So I sewed on tranguilly until 1 had finished the piece of work on which I was engaged, and then ran downstairs, humming a blithe little tune as I went. I never finished that tune, though; for hall was Anat Clarice. Yes, Aunt Clar- we, sitting demmrely in the hall chair, npon her face. On the contrary, it was a much agitated and disheveled Aunt Clarice upon whom I locked—an Aunt Clarice who appeared equally divided met my astonished gaze with one full of wrathful meaning “ Dear Aunt Clarice ever dreamed of ened. Who enough to take you there? That girl's blunders are really bevond anything.’ “ Don't scold the girl.” said Aunt Cla rice, grimly: “it's not her fault. She they can hardly expect their friends to stay in them.” “ Menageries | Dear Anant Clarice,” 1 poor Bijou too. You're as bad as Uncle Philip.” Aunt Clarice turned slightly red. “1 that's your idea of a bijou,” she said,” 1 have no more to say;" and she began to gather up her belongings as if she medi. tated instant flight “But dear Annt Clarice,” 1 “don't be so frightened! I was just go- ing to shut him up, for he has been out quite long enough” (* I should think so” said Aunt Clarice). “ But I never knew that you minded birds so much.” “ Birds I" said Aunt Clarice, with an in- deseribable intonation. “But | mind birds very much this; birds that walk on four legs and wag their tails and make grabs at vour ankles.” ““Annt Clarice,” I eried, “it's Hero that you mean—Jack’s great, horrid dog. Do you mean to say that he is in the parlor ? Oh dear! what shall I do? Jack says that there is no harm in him, but he always dances and grins at us so How shall we ever got him ont, {om neither Jane nor I dare touch him #7 Aunt Clarice had relaxed slightly when she found that I had nothing to do with Hero's presence in the parlor, and now she began to laugh. “* Don't trouble yourself about getting lim out,” she said. “He is safe enough there, for I shut the door upon him. He eried, or soon as 1 was left quite alone and un. protected, he flonndered out from under the very sofa that I was sitting npon, and ‘ daneed and grinned’ at me, until 1 fairly took to my heels. stairs and take my things eff.” Jack only laughed when I complained in. It was mther curious, I thought, that {since Aunt Clarice had left us { abruptly we had seen nothing either of | her or of Unele Philip, although more than a week had passed, Aunt Clarice was always out—or so the servants said | when I called; and as for her, she had never once crossed our threshold sinee that unlucky day I was just exprossing my feelings upon the subject to Jack, with Bijou { hopping about the carpet at my feet, i when the mug and Jane brought in the morning's mail. Ther BO doorbell | was only one letter, and that I saw in a | moment to be from Aunt Clarice. “High time, 1 think!” I said, as I tore it open. Then, in another mo ment, and with a shriek, “Jack, look bere! This 1s what Jack looked at “My pear Mapae—1 have not seen you for the last week bacause I was try- mg to make up my minds whether or not to be an old and in such cases { the fewer witnesses one has, the better I've decided at last, whether for better be seen Per. haps you know that Jack's Uncle Philip fool, ing-—-now and all Well, the long and E short of it is that we have made up our “That is all at present from “ Your attached aunt, “Cranice Vavanan,' Pp If Master Jack and you hadn't seen fit to turn your house into a me garie, i would't have happened. A ~ t § I was orving by the time Jack had grave, though there was a most « LASPE- * Good-bye to woman,” he said. “Oh, Jack! Jack! I “ And to think it was all the doing of that hate- on r fortunes, Criea “Not ut all” said Jack: my dog hadn't half as much to do with it as your birds. If they hadn't driven Uncle out of the house, there would or Aunt Clarice, and in that case they might never have have been no room in it f “ Nonsense i “If it hadn't wonld orted, indignantly been for the dog, Aunt hay e been here safe and I've a great mind Jack suddenly grew vervstern. “If hug he said I had never seen Jack look so RUOETY, 1g hike a and inute I stopped short abso But before I conld speak there was a hasty the rushed into the room. Bijou lifted his head and fluttered his wings, but he was too late In another instant Hero had npon the tempting plaything Youd WaE a stmngied ir anythin y angry, before 1 fOr one m | " . 3 inte terror; then scuffle on ponnesd There squeak, an agonized ir Bijou had disappeared he gaping red throat, and kick conval aming from gasp, and po ; bodily down : { Hero was o | sively, while 1 ine us back, ing rushed ser the room Of course Jack and 1 * embraced with tears,” after the double tragedy . Neither fof us uld acense the othe YOu see, for if his pet had killed mine, mine had proved equally fatal to his hen and there we forswore all futnre division of interests, whether in the shape of peta oO or anything els Unele Philip aud Am proved to be the most ch tented of it Clarice Phi 1p heerful and con It seems that it 15 an old love affair Jack knew of it all along, which was the reason of his profane laughter when he found that they had established themselves in the same hon They were engaged when i both were yonng, but quarreled. Aunt Clarice married Mr. Vaughan out of | pique, while Unele Philip remained a | bachelor for her sweet sake | We are thoroughly reconciled ne and stranger things have happened than that we should be their heirs after all Harper's Baza ————— ———————— i — 2 3 ani mn i SIAeriv « OuUpies, i Ww, An Important Invention, Among the new ideas creeping into i commercial life, SAYS A New York letter, | there is one which is being silently but | fiercely combated. I allude to a curious { but important invention which will ere { long come prominently before the pub. { He. It is called neptunite, and was in- | vented two or three years ago by a man { named Lamb, a timid person who hardly i appreciated its immense possibilities. to him of Hero's escapade, said that ns | Chance threw it in the way of a party of my pet had the run of his study it was | gentlemen, who immediately purchased only fair that his should have the run of | 15 organized a COIDANY AR proceeded the rest of the house. He positively re- | 10 manufacture it on a large scale. The fused to chain him, or even to keep him i greatest of the world’s inventions have to do, if only on Aunt Clarice’s account. had their turn ; it is time that vours took their share now.” Of conrse when Hero hind once found his way upstairs, there was an end of everything. Nothing would induce him to stay down after that. It is my belief that he had found out some way of worming himself through kevholes, for no amount of locking and barring would keep him out. The worst of it was he took a violent liking to Aunt Clarice. Or rather I am inclined to think that he found her irresistibly teasable, and was deep and artful enough to pre tend a firm confidence in her fondness and admiration for him. At all events, wherever Aunt Clarice was, Hero was sure to be somewhere near. If she sat down upon a sofa Hero wriggled out from under it; if she entered a room Hero bounced at her from behind the door; nay, he even secreted himself under her bed at night, for the ex- press purpose of coming out in the small hours and wakening her by the contact of his cold nose and his warm wet tongue. After she had twice aronsed the whole household by her wild shrieks at these uncanny visits, Aunt Clarice mildly but firmly announced her deter- mination. “My dear Madge,” she said, “1 am very fond of you; I am fond of Jack, too; but really a man who keeps such a wild beast about his house is fit only for Bedlam. I can't expect you to turn him out for me, so I have decided to turn myself ont for him. I am not quite ready to go home yet, so 1 have taken board for a few weeks where I ' shall be guite comfortable.” Jack only laughed, and said, ““ Tit for tat,” when he heard of Aunt Clarice's departure. He laughed still more when, on comparing notes, we found that she | and Unele Philip were inhabitants of the same boarding-house in Ninth street-—a curious coincidence, certainly, but not worth going into hysterics about. It really seemed as if Jack would never get {over it. Every now and then, during | the whole evening, he would suddenly | throw himself back, kick up his heels in the most undignified manner, and roar. | When I asked him his reason for such | behavior, he would say only, “ Uncle | Philip and Aunt Clarice!—ho! ho! ho!” | And Hy days the mention of either name | wonld bring a most absnrd and diaboli- : eal grin to his face, which was a hand- | some enongh one in general. | been preceded by a series of more or It was so with steam, electricity and a host of j others, This idea of a * water repel. | lant,” for such it is, has had a precursor in the manifold forms of mildew-proof- ing. It is in itself used for the same purpose, though its greatest nsefulness engages quite another field. Ttis chiefly applicable to dry goods and dress goods, rendering all objects * treated,” as the expression is, impervious to dampness without any perceptible change in the texture. Velvets, silks, satins, plushes, cotton, woolen and linen fabrics, laces, fringes ganzy stuffs, silk hats, ribbons, gloves, shoes, false hair, and a quantity of heav- ier goods, such as hose, saddlery, leather in all forms, and many other things may all be passed through this magic solu- tion. Silk becomes a little heavier under treatment, a dollar silk emerging with the luster and weight of a piece worth double the money. The colors of the most delicate evening stuffs are absolutely unchanged, while they re- ceive properties which enable the wearer to look with indifference ata { less valuable experiments, § down the front. I have seen a hose- some black silk and velvet walking- dress for five minutes without leaving a drop of water on its surface. had already borne frequent tests, passed under the same shower and eame forth as dry as the Israclites from the Red sea. It was covered with ostrich plumes, not one of which uncurled or showed the least trace of having been wet. So on through twenty or thirty different pieces with the same result, Manufacturers flocked to see it, but re- fused to make contracts with the com- pany because the increased durability of dress stuffs submitted to this process would ‘diminish the demand one-third, the same ground, though the cost of treatment per yard was but a few cents, This opposition has decided the owners within the last momth to open large treating works in town, where they can reach the public directly, and where everything, at wholesale or retail, ean be sent. We should no niore lament that we have grown old than the husbandman, when the bloom and ce of spring have passed away, should lament that summer or autumn has come, GENERALLY NOT KNOWN, They eat monkey-cutlets in Brazil, Opiom kills 8,000,000 Chinese every vear; so the missionaries say A race horse when galloping clears about twenty-four feet at a bound It is scarcely known that such is the case, but whales and seals suckle their young Three thousand grains of oats have been produced from planting one single oat Ancient Rhodes was adorned with 1,000 colossal bronze statues, The ques- tion is what has become of the metal ? Butter was first manufactured by the Sevthians and Thracians, and was at first used as an ointment for baths, and as a medicine. I'he land that has been granted by the United States for rail and wagon to 198,165,794 acres, or to th Blates of Iowa, Kansas and wis amounts 0 al mili IRON, nnesota i an Ava five Indiana, Mi The spoken language of China so dif. fers in every separate province that peo ple living a hundred miles apart can no more understand each other than a Noy wegian can understand a Hottentot, The Mandarin or court language is more common than any other dialeet, and is the official tongue of the empire cold The average I'he average of heat and Varies but Little from year to Yoar ! | an extreme of the change within five vears. The average of the lowest daily record for the year 1870 was forty-one quarter, representing the extremes on that side According to the best authorities the quantity of salt contained in the sea amounts to 400,000,000 000,000 cubic feet, which if placed in a pile, would form a mass 140 miles long, WS many broad, and as many high; or, otherwise disposed, would cover the Ww hale of En rope—islands, seas and all-to the height of the summit of Mount Blane, whieh is about 16,000 feet high I —— Loafers of Many Lands, FARM, GARDEN AND HOUSEHOLD The Cabbage ¥Fiy, W. R. Lazenby, of Cornell univer sity, says: We kept the larvm of the cabbage butterfly in check by applying a solution of whale-oil soap. This proved a better remedy than earbolic acid, copperas water, ammonia, cay énne pepper, tobacco water, Beoteh snufl, tar water and several other things that have from time to time been recom- mended, The method of applying the whale-oil solution was as follows: A bar- rel of water was placed where it wonld be convenient, to which the soap was added, at the rate of one pound to. every eight gallons of water. The soap gradually dissolved, the solntion was ready use after a few days, effects, a fine rose, just enough of the solution being used to wet the whole surface of the leaves, made during the season, care being taken that the last be at least ten davs or two weeks previons to the time of harvesting the cabbages. After an experience of three during which time this remady has been used in a great variety of forms, 1 ean recommend soap as one of the safest and cient insecticides kaown. YORIs, most effi- Huising Celery. This delicious and wholesome vege. raise it. A correspondent of the New raising it. He savas: Celery de i i i i off * the the fol Burlington Hawkeye, * takes loungers at railroad stations in lowing breezy manner “There ix our friend the loafer,” said the tall thin passenger, as the train halted ata way station ; “an old so- quaintance, he is, the loafer who is is never the same color or material as his shirt.” “And the loafer, vou remember” said the fat passenger, * who always woars a hlack frock coat and jeans over alls, 50 that you can't tell whether he is going to a dance or to work.” “And the loafer who always, summer and winter,” said the man on the wood box, * wears a plush cap with ear flaps, skill, and more labor than any other crop. The land should have been tilled with some hoed crops for at least two it has been very heavily manured, and kept free from weeds, it will be in pretty good order. Celery requires heavy man- uring to do well, and it is a good plan to plow in coarse manure in the fall as a preparation for the crop, but if the manure must be applied in spring, it should be worked very fine and mixed thoroughly with the soil in the rows where It is some- times grown second crop, after Bas =» carly ns possible in April, and when as the onion seed is sown. As celery of preparation to make the land fine As weads of all sorts grow so very bed about April 1. For this purpose pulled off and lost, and the standing idly ont at an angle of forty eight degrees ; looks as though the cap was trying to fly away, but couldn't be- cause it only worked one side and had stopped on the ceuter.” ““ And the loafer,” said the songer, ** who always climbs said on ran the piece of old bagging (burlap), which must be removed as soon as the seed begins to sprout. The plants can be Ris bed and set ont in the after a rain. If it is required to clear the glass in the door and stares vacantly in at the passengers until the brakeman rans over him and the train starts, when he jumps off like a wood stove falling downstairs" “And the loafer,” said the fat pas senger, “who is always holding his "jaws just in suspense over an enormous nose agaist at surly intervals, in a defiant bull dogged way ; the bully of the station early crop in June, and then plant celery, the plants will need to be pricked ont from the seed bed in May, into a plant hed at about three inches apart, where they can stand till June, or even The more celery is transplanted, how. aver, the more likely it is to go to seed, instead of growing a good stool Celery ia planted in rows seven or plants in the row. The old plan of set- strikes any one ; never shaves snd sel dom washes his face, and the last time his bair was oc ombed was when it was cnt.” “And the beau of the conntry sla tion.” said the sad passenger, ‘witht e curly hair, combed down close to his the plants are set on level land and need frequent hosing and hand- weading until the final banking up, Thus, if wanted for nse in September, the weather being warm, the celery will i wears Lis hat away back on his head, and fangles himself up in a brilliant comforter twenty feet long, with the ends dangling in careless grace down his back." “And the loafer with the clumsy boots,” is always dancing a fearful and won. derful clog of two steps, with a natural i the track.” “And the shabby the suit he was married in, has an apol- he was going some- cont buttonad look as though where, keeps his voured by a sneaking envy of the loafer with the curly hair.” “And the loafer,” said the fat senger, ** who always goes in his HAs is his only ulster; with narrow hips, straight logs and close- show off his figure. Doesn't { waste his strength in too much work aud likes to exhibit himself when the train comes in." “This loafer,” said the sad passen- | ger, “always looks best in his workin clothes. He moves in them freely an naturally. The wwe inspiring fit of a fourteen-dollar suit of store clothes de- | stroys his shape; the coat is always too | narrow for Pe broad shoulders and | flares out at the hips, owing to his Sun- | day habit of carrying apples in the | pokets thereof to church, or peanuts to | the girl he loves, His store pantaloons | are always too short and are cut per | fectly straight at the ankles, as though { the legs had been sawed off with a | cross-cut saw. His good clothes always destroy his natural good looks and de- { velop in a thrilling and superlative de- | gree all his unnatural and amazing awk | wardness, giving him bunches where | erst he had joints.” i Women as Bank Clerks, Women have been employed as clerks in the Stockholm Enskilda bank, Stoek- | holm, Sweden, for sixteen years, and A. | O. Wallenberg, a director, writes: Since { the fourth of July, 1864, sixteen young | ladies have been engaged in the bank. [| Of these there are still in the service of | the bank, eight; married and left, five; | advanced to more remunerative positions | in other institutions, two; dismissed for | inaptitude, one. Of those remaining, | three are cashiers on their own respon- | sibility, one is assistant to the keeper of | the head ledger, and four hold inferior positions. | Sam Johnsing is the colored porter in a large Galveston business house, | which is proverbial for not paying its remployees living wages. The other ‘day the head of the firm called Sam | back just as he was going to dinner and ' said to him: “YT wanted to ask you | something, Sam, but to save my life I gan’ Fameinlief what it was.” a { haps,” said Sam, * you was gwine Jo how de ous I keep soul and bods togedder on seven dollars a weak ?"— Galveston News, In October, when the weather is colder, it will take two or three weeks Hecipes, Penxies ix Gravy.~Slice boiled tw nips and pat them, with two ounces of butter, into a stewpan, shaking it round till they are browned. Season pepper, a teaspoonful of sugar and a little mace, Pour over them a quarter of a pint of good brown gravy, salt, One of the most satisfactory cook beets 18 to bake them; Berrs. to of course, take a little longer to bake objection; allow from fifteen to twenty more for baking: shice them and heat them as you would if they were boiled. One nice way to serve them is to chop them fine. After they are cooked season with pepper, salt and butter. Beersteax Straw. Take some finely chopped beef fat or a piece of butter, heat it in the stewpan, and sprinkle and add warm must be a thick cut and in one piece, if possible; add salt, pepper, (whole black, ) three cloves, a small piece of mace, and a bay-leaf, if it is handy; close up tight and let it gently simmer for three-quar- ters of an hour, shaking the stew now and then; after that time put in one dark sauce, and allow the stew to sim- mer another quarter of an hour, It it. sized potatoes, one tablespoonful of salt, toes, and, if old, let them stand in cold water an hour or two to freshen them: boil fifteen minutes; then add the salt, and boil fiffeen minutes longer; pour off every drop of water; take the cover from the saucepan and shake the potatoes in a current of cold air (at either the door or window); place the sancepan on the back of the stove and cover it witha clean coarse towel until serving time; the sooner the potatoes are served the better. This rule will insure perfectly sweet and mealy potatoes if they were good and ripe at first.— Miss Pariloa’s New Cook Book. Brain Weights, The weight of the human brain, ae- cording to a recently published work by the emiment Munich anatomist, Professor Bischofl, is on an average 1,362 grammes for man and 1,219 grammes for woman. The difference between the average brain-weight of man and woman thus amounts to 143 grammes or 10.59 per cent. The brain-weight of man exceeds that of all animals except the elephant (4,500 grammes), and the large cetacer (2,600 grammes). The brain-weight of the largest ape is hardly a third of man’s, Professor Bischoff has worked with a considerable amount of material ; his data comprise the weights or brain of B50 men and 847 women. Notun, FOR THE LADIES, Chavged Her Mind, Ernest Graham and Belle Roper start. ed from Clement, Ill, for St. Louis, where they were to be married. They were accompanied by Lewis Lindsay, who was to be the groomsman at the wedding, and a party of relatives and friends. Their tin wis delayed, and they did not arrive in 8t. Louis until too late to have the ceremony performed at the appointed time. But a postpone. ment was not the only disarrangement of the programme. Miss Roper announced that, during the journey, she changed her mind and would not marry Graham, bat would request the clergy- man to make her the wife of Lindsay, which was done. A Genlal Hecoption. Evening receptions, for some inseru- fable reason, are never very popular in There is an uncer. tainments which is in the end wearing A gentleman once bid- den to a series of eveing receptions found himself the first to arvive in the gentlemen's dressing-room on the ocea. sion of the initial soiree. Lingering awhile for other guests to a , he heard a stealthy tread at the door, and to his infinite amazement saw the host peering cautiously into the room. “Is it you, my dear fellow? asked his friend, in a tone of relief. ** We feared that it might be a burglar I" This was not precisely the looked-for greeting, or one caloulsted to put a guest at his ease. — New York How. How te Make Cotton Dresses. Some of the prettiest have a Jersey, shaped waist, with low pointed throat- worn with a muslin fichu. The open sleeves are turned up in monk's sleeve inside seam nearly as high as the elbow. The long overskirt, with wrinkled apron pointed deeply on the left, and quite bouffant behind is sewed above the edge of the waist, concealing it, and giving the effect of an entire overdress, The part of the lower skirt visible on the right side is covered with many small flounces. Another figured muslin dress bas a full round waist, worn with a narrow bells and elbow sleeves edged with two ruffles. The long overskirt has a box-pliated effect in front, with other pretty dress retains the pelerine, or round cape worn with winter dresses, This barely covers the shoulders, réach- ing over the top of the armholes, and is edged with a striped border. The daisy border is popular on dark percales, and is used to trim narrow flounces and to border the deep-pointed apron or over skirt. A soft sash of these cottons is worn around the waist, pointed in the front, and tied on the left side, with the bordered. — Harper's Bazar, A Novel Wedding. { i i i : $ i i i i 5 { ! i : | i i i license and set out with one or two friends to look up a parson. They reached the river, but alas! the would. be bride could not cross. They were in a pickle The only parson for long, weary miles was just across the river, while visions of irate parents with double-barreled shotguns formed a very long and troublesome pro- cession through the minds of the two lovers. The weather was cold, the river was up, and what could they do? One of the escort suggested that he wonld swim the river and see, if possible, the parson, who undoubtedly would fix up a plan to tie the nuptial knot. He dia so, found the preacher and soon had him down on the river bank. The water was cold and deep and he refused point-blank to cross aver, to the very great distress of the young couple on the other side. Neoes- sity is not only the mother of invention, but is the mother of expedients. The parson concluded to marry the couple across the river, and they joined handsand took their stand near the water's edge, while the preacher on the opposite bank, in astontorian voice, pronounced the mar- riage service and declared them man and wife, Austin { Tevas) Statesman. Fashion Faunecies, Curls are very fashionable. Plaid costumes are still worn. Figured fabries ave all the fashion. Plain monie cloths come in light col- ors this year. Mulberries are in mourning bonnets, The patterns of the new percales are taken from China. White ties are now arranged with one loop and two ends Buttonless, loose-wristed gloves take the precedence of all others, Japanese velvet matched in colors to great demand for trimmings. Most of the new dresses for schools girls are double-breasted and furnished with large buttons, Embroidered collars for children are larger than ever, and come in showy open-work designs, Sets of colored silk cuffs and collars trimmed with gold bmid are sold to wear with dark dresses. “ No starch” is to be the rule this sum- mer, and it is to be enforced even more rigidly than it was last year. The most fashionable rings are of and wound around the finger. Embroidered muslin as wide as dress goods is a novelty for making basque waists of white muslin dresses, The English walking hat promises, the Or Sumner use, The plush stripes, though heavy-look ing, are very effective, and are seen in the dark ribbons that will be used on dark-colored straws. A handsome comb or natural flower, placed low, at the left side, behind the ear, is all the ornament worn in the hair for full dress toilets, The monastic style of dress is much in vogue. It is an exact copy of the Trinitarian garb, except the Maltese eross and headdress, The small bonnets shown are very similar in shape to those with the broad flat crowns worn during the winter and are meant for dress hats. The feathers on round hats are massed in profusion that exceeds even the styles of the winter; both tips and large shaded plumes are used. Alsatian cambrics, with patterns in fine hair stripes or invisible checks,are shown for summer suitings. They are not so soft or so pretty as the Madras goods. Large box Jai alternating with clusters of knife-plaits are sometimes used for flounces and clusters of knife- plaits alternating with squares of bro- cade are considered in taste. Although white is the fashionable ——— ignorant of style. At least two materials piust be combined in each costume. On the grounds of some of the new cotton printed goods tiny flowers, bees, butterflies and and embraced in one pattern, but so managed as fo require examination to discover the animated figures, New mull scarfs for the neck have a narrow hem hemestitched all around them, and have clusters of colored blocks Lem-stitched in each end for ornament; a bit of needlework is in the center of each block. Women who have dull light brown bair, eolorless faces, and gmy or bine eves, should never wear new fa drab. pe look WHS, ETAYS or The best in bisck, dark ark brown, dark maroon snd creamy white, The Man of Glass, A = exitnardinaty oie was brought 10 a close a few ago death of a man who was a ns the “man of glass” The records of the asylum at Bicetre, where the man died, show thst as long ago as in 1797, when he was eighteen years old, a certain Jubissier was brought to the hospital suffering from mental alienation of a severe kind. His malady had been cansed by 8s wound inflicted a pane of glass, which fell on his and before the cut could be healed; the bmin became affected by a permanent disease. The sufferer lapsed into idiocy, and then into madness of a more violent kind; and he was shortly afterward shut up in the asylum, where he has remained ever since, After the first transports of delirium had pas never got vid of the idea that he was made of glass, and that the jes weces, He remsined, , per- foct] ¥ quiet and silent, being afraid en to speak, for fear precipitating catastrophe which he fancied was ever impending. For eighty-three years he has led this singular existence, only once opening his lips in when he asked for a little tobmeco. At one other period his intellectual and physical faculties a to be en, during the siege of Paris, he could hear the shells bursting in the air at no great distance from jis place of retreat. At this time he was seen to grow nervous and less lethargic, and to walk about restlesiy, vived, however, and, relapsing into his usual condition, has so lived until the age of 103, testifving, in a somewhat striking way, to the effects of a totally placid and inactive tranguillity both of body and mind in prolonging life. No little eredit is, however, due to the an- thorities of Bicetre for having thus pre- served for eighty-three years an exist- ence which from the first was utterly useless and uninteresting.— London Globe. Pearls of Thought, Men tire themselves in pursuit of rest. Jealousy is a secret avowal of our in- feriority. They are never alone that are accom- panied by.noble thoughts, A happy jest often gives birth to an- other; but the child is seldom worth the A beautiful woman with the gnalities of a noble man is the most thing in nature, The greatest man living may stand in need of the meanest, as much us the meanest does of him. Great men undertake great things because thoy are great; aud fools be- cause they think them easy. Every man has three characters; which he exhibits, that which he and that which he thinks he has. The greater part of men have no opinion, still fewer have an opinion of their own, well reflectod and founded upon reason. Apparent evil is but an ante-chamber to higher bliss, as every sunset is but veiled by night, and will soon show itself again as the red dawn of a new day. Friendship supplies the place of everything to ov. who know how to make the right use of it; it makes your prosperity more happy, your adversity more easy, There is a great difference between what an ambitious man is and what he aspires to be—as there is also between what a vain man thinks himself and what he is. Every year of our lives we grow more convinced that it is the wisest and best to fix our attention on the beautiful and the good, and dwell as little as possible on the evil and the false. The Boers, The Boer is"a fearless and practiced rider and an unerring shot. Life in the Veldt is familiar to him in all its aspects. He can rough it with any man, tame or wild, the world over ; nevertheless heis not a soldier ; he will fight Zulu or Bu- chuava or Basuto, but then he will have the long flint “roeer” against the arro or assegai, or the breech loading rifle against a rusty mas- ket. He is ever ready to take the field ; his rifle and gun are in the room corner, his amunition pounch is ever fall; his horse, kneehaltered or in the stable, he can turn out at short notice. Neverthe- less he is not a soldier and never will be one. lary dis- In one of the many bount butes arising out of the diamond dis- covery a party of Boers and Englishmen met in opposition near a place called Hebron, on Vaal river. Asis frequently the custom in such cases, the anxiety for battle diminishes with the distance between the opposing forces, and a par ley was proposed by the respective lead- ers when the host came within shooting proximity. There happened to be in the ranks of the party a native of Ireland, who natu- rally did not at all relish the pacific turn affairs seemed to be assuming. i the leaders debated the settlements of | the dispute, Pat left the ranks of his party, and, approaching the | of consultation, demanded of his chief, now busily engaged with the Boer command- ant in smoking jad debate, 3 he and his friends on the hi ight i to open fire on i might be pemmiited any further discussion on the cause of quarrel was proceeded with. The Boer, alarmed at this sudden proposition to defer dim to war, asked the meaning of this bloodthirsty request. “The boys want the word to fire,” re- flied Pat, “because they areso moral ungry.” Not ‘altogether perceiving the hen but deeming it wise to re- move such an evident casus belli, the Boer commander at once sent forward a sheep and an ox to appease both the food hunger and thirst for blood of the opposite side; and as the map of So Some twenty vears ago, when Quee Victoria visited Paris, the prefect of the decorations for the architect: pickings and waste meat, a li by a de nltices he consumed, in a few moments, Africa presents Hebron on the Vaal river | ners
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers