a I told her of my three years’ cruise, Its haps and mishaps, and when 1 Had finished, in her sweet, rapt muse, She marmured breathlessly, “Oh, my!” And when 1 told my jommeys o'er, From torrid zone to lands of snow, She paused in wonderment before She softly cried, “You don’t say so!" And when 1 told ¢f dangers, foars Our shipwrecks, when we suffered so, Half frightened, and almost in toars, She faltered forth, “1 want to know!” ~Noribrer's Magazine, Sauce, 1, What ia life without its sauce ? Sauce for gander, sauce for goose ? Little gain and much of loss Chicken pie without its price, Marriage is a royal dish, Than which there is none above; Yet to taste of it who'd wish IT °t has not the sanoe of love? n Hope ix good to food pon; On life's menu it ranks high; Yet its flavor soon is gone If its sauce grows hard and dry. Iv, Tid-bits in the world's cuisine Woman's words are pleasant things If the sauce in the turreen Is not made of bitter stings. Ys Life a struggle is all through, Yet wa'll have more gain than loss, If, no matter what we do, We seoure our share of sauce, A RACE FOR A WIFE. A STORY FROM THRE FRENCH. My father used to live at Rethel, in the high street, in a house I can still see before my eves with its slate roof and projecting beams, a hospitable house if ever there was one. Poor folks knew the way to it. They entered with their wallet empty and went away with it fall. We were all seated one night at the fireside; my father was smoking his pipe and watching the fire burn, my mother was ironing, and I was reading, when we heard a noise at the door, and saw enter a boy with frightened looks. “ What is the matter ¥" “Tt is a soldier very tired who has just fallen exhausted before the door.” My father loved soldiers. He rose brusquely, mn out, and there he was, before I had taken a step, coming in again with a young soldier leaning upon him, or rather my father had taken him up and was earrying him like a sack of corn. My mother hastened to draw the big! armchair up to the fire. The soldier was made to sit, or rather to recline in it, and my father said, looking at the poor fellow : “Is it possible! state?” The fact is that the soldier was very thin and ®, his hair flattened on his forehead, the veins of his temples big as your little finger, his face black with dust. We were then in the month of October and the weather was beginning to grow fresh, but the poor fellow was nevertheless sweating ng drops, as if it had been dog days. He must have had a long tramp. His shoes were in shreds; you could see where the stones had torn the leather; the left foot was bleed- Walking in that VOLUME XIV, “Time went on. | the conscription came we drew lots, Pavioux el I, on the same day, 1 had number three and he had number seven, { and so we both of us became soldiers. For a moment I was in a state of great fright I confess, People at Mezieres said that Puvioux had a rich aunt, and that i she would buy him off. If Puvionx did not join the army, Puvionx would marry Marguerite, and I, knowing that 1 should be obliged to go, for 1 was poor, 1 thought I already heard the adaler at the wedding, rending my ears and my heart, “ Lnckily, Pierre Puvioux was not bought off. His aunt died leaving debits instead of a fortune. He had not a son. We were obliged to shoulder our guns, and we were expected on our way bill every moment. One night Father Servan took us each by the arm and led us to an inn, and this 1s what he said to us: “*My boys, yon are good and honest Ardennais, equal in merit. I love vou with all my heart. One of you shall be my son-in-law ; that is understood. Mar- guerite will wait seven years, She has no preference either for yon, Puvioux, or for you, Chevaucheux, bat she loves both of you, and she will make happy the one whom fortune shall choose, These are the conditions on which one sturt on the same day—it is probable that you will return the same day. Well, the one who first comes and shakes hands with Father Servan, and says: “Here I am, my time is out; he, 1 swear, shall be the husband of Marguer- ite. “1 was astonished; 1 thought that I had misunderstood. 1 looked at Pierre Puvioux and he looked at me, and al. though we were sad enough at heart, we were certainly ready to burst out laughing. : : “But Father Servan was not joking. He had discovered this means of getting out of the difficulty, and he meant to stick to it. I held out my hand and swore to act neither by ruse nor vio- lence, and to let Pierre Puvioux marry Marguerite if he returned to Meszieres before I did. Pierre stood up and swore the same, and then we shook hands, while Father Servan said: “‘Now, the rest is your affair. The only thing is to escape bullets and to return safe and sound.’ “Before leaving I wished to see Mar- gnerite. Just as I was arriving under her window—it was at dusk—1I saw some one in the shade coming in the same direction. 1 stopped short. It was Pierre Puvioux. He seemed vexed to find me there. 1 was not particularly pleased to meet him. We stood there for a moment like two simpletons look- ing at the toes of our boots. Then, with a movement of courage, I said to Puvioux: «Shall we go in together ¥ “ We entered and took our farewel! of ing. The soldier did not move but re- | Marguerite. She listened to us with- mained in the armchair with his head | ont saving anything, but there were thrown back, his eves half open and | tears at the tips of her blonde eyelashes. white as a sheet. Suddenly Pierre, who was talking, stop- My mother had already put some soup | ped and began to sob and I to do the on the fire, same, Then Margnerite joined in, and “Bah!” said my father; “the first | there we were all three shedding tears thing to be looked after is the feet.” and pressing each other's hands. And kneeling down he began to tear “When the diligence that took us and cut away the shreds of leather. The | away from Mezieres began to rattle on soldier's feet, all swollen and full of blis- | the pavement the nextday I felt inclined ters, looked like the feet of the martyrs, | to throw myself down from the imperial swollen with pain and wealed by bard and get crushed under the wheels. The cords, which we see in the pictures of more so as there was a Lorminer at my the Spanish painters. ‘side who was singing in 8 melancholy My father dipped his handkerchief in | voice a song of his country, and I said vinegar and washed the wounds, | to myself: ‘It is all over, Jean, you will “You,” he said fo me, * make some | never see Ler again.’ int.’ i “Well, yon see. Time passes. The And I began to tear up some old linen | seven years are over, and who knows? that my mother had taken out of the Perhaps I am not only going to see her big cupboard. again, but to marry her. Meanwhile the soldier had come to “There are, indeed, strange chances himself. He looked at us—at my father, in life,” continned Jean Chevauchenx. my mother and myself and the two or “Pierre and I started on the same day ¥ CENTRE HALL, CENTR “f You, monsieur la militaire, very late ASTROLOGICAL WISDOM, { last night. He asked for a glass of { water, “Ah! I was outstripped in my turn! 1 | started hurriedly At o'clock in the afternoon I had not caught up to Puvioux, nor at 6 o'clock either, At night I took my rest while 1 ate, and started to walk again. 1 walked a good part of the night, but mv strength had nmits, Once more 1 stopped I knocked at an inn. The door opened, and there, sitting in a chair, I saw Pu. vionx, p as death. He made a move. ment of displeasure when he saw me that was natural. We did not talk much. What could wo say? We were | Will no doubt change with the moon, both tired. The great thing was to In many parts of the country great know who should get up first for the attention is paid to the day of the week next morning. It was I on w hich the change of the WOON OCHS, “The next morning was this moming. Thus, if the moon changes on a Bunday, Since this morning I have been walking, we are told * there will be a flood be- taking a rest now and then, but only a short one. We are getting close. Rethel is the last stage between Anglers and Mezieres. 1 know my map of France now. The last stage! Good heavens, I arriy ed too late!” “And Pierre Puvioux,” asked father, * has he canght yon up # “No,” replied Chevaucheux, “I ahead. If I could start now I be saved.” “Start ? In this state? Impossible I" “I know—my feet are swollen and ent—provided that to-morrow—" “To-morrow yon will be rested-—you will be able to walk.” “Do you think so? said the soldier, with a look ardent as lightning. “1 promise you." My father then advised the soldier to Old Time Sigus of the Changes of the Weather, A popular idea is that the weather changes with the moon's quarters, al. 3 i) this piece of astrology. That educated out, to whom exaot ease of intellectual survival. Yet, how- ever, the fact remains, and in every-day life one of the most fre appertaining to wet Water is that it Bie moon on a Monday is nearly everywhere welcomed as being a certain omen not only for fair weather but good luck, A change, however, on Saturday seems universally regarded as a bad sign, and numerous proverbs to this eflect are found, scattered here and there, in most am | parts of England as well as Seotland, should Nome of the most prevale nt are the fol lowing: i 1 i my A RBaturdav's and full moon SOVOL Years is olioe 10 sion In Norfolk the peasantry say: Saturday new and Sunday full Never was good and never wall, The same notion exists on the conti: nent; Wednesday in Italy, and Friday in the south of France being regarded go to bed. Chevaucheux did not refuse. as unfavorable days for a change of Ihe bed was ready. He shook hands moon. Again, various omens are made with us and went up to his room. It from the aspect of the moon. At Whithy, was 10 o'clock. for instance, when the moon is sur- “1 will wake a o'clock.” said sounded by a halo of watery clouds, the my father. seamen say there will be a change of : weather, for the * moon-dogs"” are about. This halo is called in Seotland “ burgh,” the early Teutonic word for ohange a Sunday's noe in you at t was not yet daylight on the follow- ing morning when my father, already up, looked out of the window to see Q how the weather was. While he was at the window he heard some heavy foot steps on the road below, and in the ob- scure twilight that precedes daybreak perceived a soldier who was walking in the direction of Mezieres. “Up already?” said my father. The soldier stopped. “Well?” continued my father, “are you off ¢” The soldier looked up and tried to make out who was speaking to him. “You are Jean Chevancheux, are you not ¥"” asked my father. “No,” said the soldier, © Puvioux.” And as if that name of Chevaucheux had been the prick of a spur he resumed his walk more mpidly, and was soon lost in the obscurity, When my father conld no longer see him he could hear the noise of his shoes on the road lead- ing to Mezieres. “Ah!” said he I am Pierre 1 a my father to himself, circle, as in the following rhyme: } About the moon there is 8 burgh, I'he weather will be cauld and rough. A pale moon, too, is equally unfavor- able; a piece of weather lore to which Shakespeare alludes in * Midsummer Night's dream” (act ii. se): in her anger, washes all the air, 1 i erefore the the governess of foods, Ih Fale hat rhemmatic dmeases do abou When the moon's horns appear to point upward it is said to look like a boat, and in many parts there is an idea that when it is thus situated there will be no rain-—a superstition which George Eliot describes in ©“ Adam Bede ™ “It ‘ud ha' been better luck if they'd ha' buried him {i the forenoon, when the rain was fallin’ ; there's no likelihood of a drop now. An'the moon lies like a boat there. That's a sure sign of fair weather,” According to the sailors, when the moon is in this position it de- notes fine weather; for, to use their t L “(‘hevauchenux $ i be sharp if he o catch up that man.” And he most phrase, * You might hang your hat upon : . : it.” In Liverpool, however, it is con- went straight to the room where Jean gijered a sign of foul weather, as the had slept. He was already up and look- | 100d is now considered to be like a ing at his feet by the light of a candle. ain of water about to fall. The Scotch “Victory I" he eried when he saw my proverb inculeates the following admo- father; “1 feel free and strong and I sion suffer no more. En route!” The honeymoos is on her hack. “And quickly,” replied X Mend your shoes sud sort your thack “ Puvioux has just passed th thel.” means ny father. rough Re- Whenever a large planet or large star is seen near the moon it is said by sea “ Pierre Puvionx ¥ faring men to prognosticate boisterous “I have just spoken to him. He weather, for, to make use of their term, passed nnder our window, going along as = «A big star is dogging the moon.” Some if the devil were after him.” Years ago, savs a correspondent of Notes “ Ah, mon Dieu!” exclaimed Chevan. | and Queries, a fisherman of Torquay cheux as if he had been struck down. told me after a violent gale that he had He repeated once more: “Ah, mon foreseen the storm, as he had observed Dien!” Then he buckled on his knap- one star ahead of the moon towing her, sack and eried: “After all, what you and another astern chasing her. Many have told me gives me courage. Let me other superstitious fancies are associ. be off.” ated with the moon's supposed influence In the room below my mother, already on the weather, varying, of course, in up, was filling a wallet with provisions different localities. Thus a clear moon for Chevancheux. But he refused. He is generally supposed to augur bright E | | i i Church Musie in America. As regards general musical culture, the public may be divided into two olasses—those who go to the theaters and those for whom the church is the center, In both echureh and the standard of music is one. In the chureh, where, all, sincerity should pre vail, and where nothing but healthy should be given, the music 118 looked upon as an attraction, and { given as an amusement, It is largely operatic, it appeals to the senses only {and it is too often of the sickly senti- { mental order. In those churches only { which have congregational singing is | social | theater a low i first of i f« od | churches, The priest estimates at its full value the power of music over the masses, duce a good musical service, Why can not this be done in the Protestant i churches? Pleasing music need not be { trifling or sentimental ; there are many beantiful works not suited for the eon- | tional nse. But the greater part of the chureh musie is a sort of eatch-work a little piece from this com ser and another piece from i put together by an amateur A higher aim ought to be set, if not in the first place because of the art it self (though why this is not a praise worthy purpose 1 do not see); at least for the sake of truth and propriety, The most exalted and artistic church service is the proper one. The music which will inspire those feelings which onght to fill the soul of every worshiper is noble, good music—-not sentimental, not see ular, but lofty and devotional. That this low standard of church music exists is not owing to the want of competent organists, for we have many of ability, but rather to hampered in their attempts to introduce better music by the solo singers, as well as by the want of interest on the part of the minister, and in many cases by the desire of the business committee to “draw” and please the congregation, — Theodore Thomas, in Soribuner. Wie iat { The Year of Disaster, Mother Shipton was, wo believe, the first prophet of good standing who pre- dicted that the final catastrophe of this terrestrial globe would occur during the current year of grace. Knowing so much she ought to have known more, and to have foretold the canse and the manver of the break-up of all things. That, however, she did not, but left it for later prophets. Quee:ly enough astrology and astronomy are nuw at one in warning us « { grievous things to come this year, though they are not agreed as to what is to bappen. Astrol- ogy oaly notifies the world of the malign influence of some of the more ill-tempered planets, which propose to celeb: ate their co-incident peribelia by worrying the inhabitants of the earth, who, we make bold to say, bave never done them any harm. They are, how. ever, supposed only to be intending to inflict upon this fellow planet storms, | pestilences and similar evils, which would leave a remnant of the inhabi- tants after the worst had been done. Astronomy does not stop short of an utter extinction of life. A comet is de clared to be projecting its vaporous head directly toward the sun, moving with frightful velocity, and dragging after it some millions of miles of train The impact of this wanderer upon the sun is expected to cause an increase of the light and heat of the cen'er of our system, brief indeed, but sufficient in intensity to raise terrestial temperature | beyond the point at which animal or vegetable life is possible. Every ves | tige of life would be destroyed, the earth swept clean of vegetation, the sea { i i Buch is rs REPORTER. pasa sim ®B2.00 a Year. in Advance. SR TERMBS: SR EL SAR NUMBER 12, The r who stole and drank a bot- tle of whisky (ss he thought), and found it to be wine of ipecas, was one of the many thieves who swallow more than they can keep down, The of some West was ro Idaho mining camp, intending to cele. brate the g heap of fireworks to be sent to them. A vg go. ig captured and while on its way was | ! might by a a of Indians. They did | , — not exactly know what sort of Household Hints, they had got hold of, and § ud to Mis J. D. B. writes: “I find washing | investigate. soda better than ammonia or soap for The chief thdhght the cannon crack. | cleaning house. It should be kept sir- ers were cigars, snd the little ones cigar | bandman, my men sowed a few pounds | tight when not in nse. I keep mine in ettes, which asticles he had seen in us | of strap-leaf turnip seed between the | ® self-sealing fruit jar; a little of it is a | at various camps he had visited, and be | rows of tobacco on a piece of about two | great help on dirty paint and oil-cloths, | distributed & lot arouad, and they all acres. No care was taken to avoid | I think, too, there ic less danger of the | lighted up for a smoke, and in a mo- | ramping the young plauts in harvesting | paint being left ‘streaked if one begins | ment 8 more surprised and pazzied set the tobacco, and no attention was paid | ot the bottom of doors and windows of Indians never got together, : | to them afterward, except to keep off | thus than at he top. ’ The chief had a — cracker, and i stock. The result was 300 bushels of | rs. Henry Ward Beecher, in giving | i : les | | well-grown turnips, These I Lad piled | some of the results of her housekeeping | Id get bresth enough to in heaps of about 50 bushels each, and | experience, remarks that neither soap, | vell, and then the wild shriek he gave | well covered with earth, The tops make | hot water nor brash Should over be nt funlins ious] a mile away. That ended | excellent fodder for young cattle, and | on oil-cloth, It should always be washed | *i€ . | the roots ave good food x cows. | in lukewarm water with a piece of soft’ Another brave fell off the top of the | In this season of high-priced fodder my | old flannel and wiped perfectly dry each | Wagon with 8 ig box of hunt toe pesions turnips will prove a good investment. | time. And the appearance of the cloth, | an the crash : him as he Hereafter I shall not be without a crop | Mrs. Beecher declares, is jreatly im- | slighted scared him so that he got up | of turnips for feeding. proved by using half milk and half | and ran off at break-neck speed. water, skim-milk, if not sour, being just | A squaw contrived to get a yis-whinl Euriching Poor Lands. | a8 good as new milk. five, and m she 4 dropped if the There are three principal methods of | There should never be a guest in the | TOURS he Hatu feludency rapidly increasing the supply of plant | _— whose presence es any con- | Bung to whirl around made it go over food in any soil. By feeding concentra. | siderable change in the domestic f0on- | the ground like a wheel of fire, sending ted foods upon the land, as oil-cake, | oy of one's household affairs. How- | out a shower of 5 snd causing the cottonseed-cake, ete,; by the application | ever much the circumstances of business | affrighted lady vy Sond -uway from i : of barnyard manure, and the use of arti- | or mutual interests may tend to the! with her eyes as ** big as saucers” with | ¢ ficial fertilizers, Which of these three ertainment of a stranger, he should | “500. methods is to be adopted in any given Star aie A an bho family cirele The pin-wheel ot under the wagon case must be determined by the many until he is known to be worthy of that | and ignited it, i the Indians at first conditions and circumstances that sur | social distinction; but, when once ad- | tried to extinguish the flames; but pretty round it. It may be that the feeding of | mitted, he should be treated as if the | 5000 8 Roman candle went off, and be- sheep with decorticated cotton-seed cake place had been his always, fore the man who was hit by the first v ball on the nose conld clap his hand on | an injection of salt and water two or three days in succession, then admin ister a ball consisting of half an ounce of aloes and one dmehm of calomel. An extensive apple grower cultivates his orchard six or eight years after planting, and fertilizes with bone dust and wood ashes, Afterward the soil is sown to grass, and annually enriched | with good stable manure as a top dressing or mulch. The trees are pruned | late in the autumn or early winter, and in the spring the bodies of the trees are | washed with a strong lye, FOR THE FARM AND HOME, The Hushandman, Chive fools their gold and knaves thelr power, Let fortane's bubbles vise and fall ; Who sows a field or trains a flower Or plants 8 tree is more than al, For he who blesses most is blest ; And God and man shall own lis worth, Who toils to leave at his bequest Au added beauty in the earth, And soon or late, 10 all that sow The time of harvest shall be given The flowers shall Bloom, the fruit shall grow, If not on earth at least in heaven, Cheap Pedder, Last Angust, says a writer in the Hus upon a poor pasture may be the quickest | and best method of enriching the land, In other cases the purchase and apyiien- tion of barmyard manure may be the | most profitable. When it comes to the | artificial fertilizers, it should be borne quickly one or two ingredients that may | be deficient in the soil--when these are known their use is to be recommended, Destruction of Cannda Thistles, A oo or notices two modes of destroving this weed, says the Contry Farmer, one of which is to be a table. causing the plant to wilt, become dry | and disappear by October. This is recommended as better than the other | mode, which is to cot off each plant with a knife just below the surface of the ground, as one does asparagus. These in gardens, but any one may easily To do up lace curtains. Having’ washed and dried them in the un manner, starch and redry them. Any number may be prepared in this way, thus saving the trouble of making starch every time that you wish to put them upon the frame. Take the number that | you are to use at once, dip them into cold blueing water and pass them through the wringer. This will not! i lace will be | and dry, the meshes of the which will clear and free from starch, hot starch. Recipes. : Geen Sxars. —One cup each of and butter, two cups of molasses, | one cup of brown sugar, one tablespoon- ful of soda, one pinch of salt. soft, and roll thin, Mix very | i i § { i contrast its economy in labor on a large | Besron Tea Caxes.—Take one pound scale on a farm, with the rapid work of | of flour, four ounces of butter and milk | turning the plants under with a plow. | sufficiently to make a paste; roll out very | We have destroyed many acres in this | thin and cut it into shapes, and bake on | way, so that not a plant ever reappeared. | a hot hearth or slow oven plate. A strong airof horses will turn overasod Frexen Hon —8oak a cup of rice in | P and much lower than | water for about an how; then pour ‘off | the knife in the hand will go; and if the | {eo water, add two-thirds of & cup of | work is thoroughly done and no stalks | guour one of raisins, a little salt, nut- | left, the plants will stay under the 0p and one quart of milk; bake in a | inverted soil for three or four weeks, quick oven one hour. Serve plain or unless in very porous or light soil, which | with sugar and cream. inust be plowed Oftemet. Tue only | m4 Cook Beersreax.—Slit the outside | failures which we hrs now n wit A this | or fat part, say every four inches, cutting | eaten ¥ a y here : $ P mg Vas 3 | through to the Jean, which prevents con | hupariue : gt "un onginit yin ' | traction and increases the tenderness. ! ths stiagiion 3 n 1 : Hn i 3 Ie Have a bright fire and gridiron hot be- | lig 3 bel urnisied a Teolung to Lhe! fore yutting it on; turn over to prevent | TORE THN burning. A steak an inch and a half’ thick will be cooked in from seven to! ten minutes, Have some melted butter Among the new potatoes offered by with a good supply of pepper and salt, | seedsmen are five varieties named and and pour over the steak just before it described as follows. i New Potatoes, the injured member another ball was Yurows Sere 23d then a third. of. ad en the rockets began to take the braves in the legs A, and the different colored fires threw fost a red and then a blue light upon the seene. More pin-wheels got loose, and when a brave jumped to aveid a pin-wheel he got into the d almost every red man was | minutes a crowd of the worst scared and most frantic Indians I ever saw was prairie, bellowing with pain and fear. And the next load of fireworks sent | through that with by those Indians.— Boston Post, Corset-Wearing Men, I received recently a letter from gentleman in New York, who writes usk me if it isa fact that tlemen babitually wear corsets, notes the allusion made by Alphonse udet, in the **Nabob,” to the whi satin corsets of the male imperial fetes at Com : in his letter is so curious interesting that I will transeribe it the benefit of my readers: *‘The writer was educated in one of the best private boarding-schools at Vienna, Austria, re- maining there from the age of twelve that of seventeen. In commen with my fellow-pupils, who were sixty al ? % & number, I wore corsets during whole of my five yours’ stay school. I was informed by my that Viens gentlemen, as a rule, corsets, an discipline Was Ay - a laced, ¥ stays were : waist, during yt ara theschool, being but eighteen inches in circumfer- ence, yet I never experienced u day's ill- Feros ; ig fi 7 i i i il perhaps converted into vapor. the universal fate predicted for the earth and the dwellers upon it for the | month of July next. The weight of | base. Mr. R. A. Proctor's name is supposed to | Queen of the Valley.—A very large, | way; put a little butter or lard in the | ness, and used very much to | long, flattened variety, deep pink at the pan or griddle and let it brown before sensation caused by tight lacing. 2 seed end, shading to nearly white at the | putting on the meat; cook quickly, and | I left the school I discontinued the of The immense yield of this vari- | whether broiled, fried or roasted; if you | practice, partly from the fear of being ety, of nearly all large sized tubers, want it juicy and tender never salt until | ridiculed by IY i and partly bo- have been given to this theory of the | must secure a large demand for it. after it is cooked. ' enuse it see too effemipate a cus- direful consequences to ensue if the Extra Early Peachblow.—Very early, Creax or Rien. —Have one quart of tom for a young man in an ela- comet aforesaid should precipitate itself | round, with Witte pia eyes, Sullen in rice, wash it well. put into a stewpan tive business life; but have retained upon the son. Boston Advertiser. 8 pearance, ML Bmootier and not as rith o unce of butter, a little salt A I im—————— i eon as the peachblow, which it | With ne primey of boiled milk, grate in derstand that many English J resembles in all its good qualities, with | Co 0 yutmoeg : set on the fire, heat | Wear corsets, and the practice three neighbors who had come in one | and the same hour, and we were placed after the other. His wandering eyes in the same regiment, At first I was seemed to interrogate everything. It | vexed. I should have liked to have was no longer the road, the stones, the known that he was far away. As you great deserted woods that he saw before | may imagine, I could not love him him, but a gay room with a ceiling of much. But I reflected afterward that shining oak, a eloth on the table, a knife ' if Puvioux was with me I could at least and fork laid and a brown earthenware | talk about her. That consoled me. Well, soup-bowl emitting a savory smell of | I said to myself, I am in for seven years cabbage soup. of it. After all, one gets over it. was not hungry. Putting on a pair of weather in summer and frost in winter, my father's shoes he started, blessing One proverb tells us: my mother and leaning on my father's arm to take the first step. Three or four vears after this we had heard no news of Chevauchenx. We used often to talk of that evening when the soldier had come into our house bleeding and weary. What had become of him? What had been the end of that 1f the moon shows & silver shiold Be not afraid to reap your field ; Bit if she rises haloed round, Boon we'll tread on deluged gi In winter time, according to a popn- lar adage, Waa Clear moo from soon a I Bookbinding, Then he raised himself up, leaning on | father, with confused emotion: “Ah! monsieur. But you do not | know me.” “Ah! well that does not matter; we will become acquainted at table.” “In the regiment I became a fast end of Pierre Puvioux, He proved to good fellow, and at We used to the regimental buttons that shone on his cloak. The soldier ate, and ate heartily; my mother served him. “Well,” said my father, suddenly, pointing to the tin box that the soldier carried slung on a cord, * you have fin- ished your time, for there is your conge. Then why do you kill yourself by toiling | along the highway? I see how the mat- ter stands. You have no money to pay for the diligence.” “1? replied the soldier. received my pay and bounty, and my mother has sent me enough to pay for a | place in the coupe, if I liked. But I could not.” “1 understand,” said my father, who | did not understand at ail. When the meal was over the soldier tried to walk. He tottered, uttered a smothered cry, and fell back into the! chair. Ithen saw a tear into his eye. He was a young man, rather thin, but nervous, dark, and with an energetic | look. He was not a man to shed a tear | for a little, and that tear puzzled me. ' “ Ah.” he said, with a movement in which there was little anger and a good | deal of grief; ‘1 shall not be able to walk until to-morrow morning.” § The soldier shook his head. “Yon don’t know—1 must. a vow.” In our Ardennes those primitive souls | have respect and faith. I saw my father | look at the young man in the face with- It was | i out astonishment and with mute inter- | rogation. “Yes,” said the soldier, “I will tell | you the whole story, Yon have, per- | haps, saved my life; I ought, at least, to tell you who I am. My name is Jean Chevauchenx, and my father is a wood- splitter at Mezieres. He is an honest | man, like yon; monsieur. Seven years | ago, when I drew for the conscription, I was madly in love with Marguerite Ser, van, a good hearty girl and a pretty one. 1 had already asked her in marriage, and ner father had not said no; but, you see, Pierre Puvioux had asked her in mar- riage at the same timethat I did. Pierre Puvioux is a man of my age, who car- ries his heart in his hand, as the saying is—gay sand. well-looking. I ought to have detested him, and he has remained my friend. : Well, Father Servan said to me as he held out his hand: * “*You are worthy to be my son-in- Jaw my lad, but first of all you must please my daughter. TI will ask her.’ “ Marguerite, when asked, said that she would gladly consent. to be my wife. But she said the same when they talked to her about Puvioux. She loved both 1 struggle, it is true, but it was When Marguerite or old Servan plied, the letter was for both of us. * One day the colonel took it into his head to appoint me corporal. 1 was You | vionx. My stripes gave me the right to But I did not glory in my rank; on the I did rank. I neglected my duty and was forthwith degraded. But who should be made corporal in my stead but Pu- vionx. But Puvioux was not to be ont- After that there was no danger of any propositions being made to us to make any change in our uniform. We were condemned to remain common soldiers. “¢8o much the better,’ said Puvioux. ‘ What luek ? said I. “ When we bad served seven years— for I donot mean to tell yon our history day by day—I said to Puvionx: “sell, now is the time to start, ut Yes’ he replied, ‘we are expected.’ “You know,’ I said, the ‘game will not be finally won until both of us arrive at Mezieres, and until the loser has de- clared that the combat has been loyal.’ “ Agreed,’ said Puvioux. “And so one mormng, with good shoes on our feet, and stick in hand, we set ont for Mezieres from Angers, romance of love so strangely begun ? One day my father had to go to Mezieres on business. He took me with him. At Mezieres he wished to enter the first barber's shop that he saw to get shaved. On the doorstep a little child was sitting with its legs apart and smil- ing at the sun. “Will you allow me to pass?" asked my father, laughing. “No, I won't,” replied the child with a little lisp. At that moment the door opened and a wan in his shirt sleevesappeared-—the father—and took the child up in his walked along in company, not saying much, thinking a good deal and walk- ing above everything. The weather was terribly hot and dusty. Half way on one of our marches I sat down on the roadside overwhelmed with fatigue. “Are you going to stay there? said Puvioux to me. 45 Yen, march. ¢ ¢ Au revoir.’ “1 watched him as he went on with a firm step, as if he had only just started. When I saw him disappear at the bend of the road, and when I was once alone, as it were abandoned, I felt a great despair. I made an effort. I rose and began to walk again, had done me good. I walked, walked and walked until I had eaught up to Puvioux and passed him. “ At night, too, 1 was well ahead, but I was worn out. I entered an inn to sleep a little. I slept all night. of us, one as mnch as the other; she hesitated—she did not dare to decide But still she could not mary both o %. the morning 1 woke np. day was getting on; 1 called some one. * ‘Yon hav te i “Pierre! Pierre! do you want to drive away the customers?” I recognized the voice and so did my | father. We looked at the barber. The barber looked at us, It was Jean Che- vancheux. He laid the child down at once and held out his hand. His face was all red and beaming with pleasure. “What, is it yon? Ah! and to think | that I have never written to you Ah! you don’t know. It is I who married her; 1 arrived first.” And rushing into the back shop: “Muar- guerite | Marguerite!” he cried. “Come, come!” He was wild with joy. A young woman appeared, blonde, pretty, blne- eved, with a pensive and gentle air, a | little sad. “You do not know?’ said Chevan- cheux to her. “It was this gentleman who took care of me so well at Rethel the night before I arrived at your father's house. * * * 1 have often and often talked to vou about him; * %* *% this is the gentleman.” Kleptomaniaes., An employer in a large establish- ment in New York said to a reporter: The romances of a searcher in a big store would startle the public if they could be told. The extent to which kleptomania, or whatever else it may be called, is carried is absolutely incredible. Among its practicers are numbered some of the foremost people of the city. A con. firmed kleptomaniae is the wife of a man worth millions, and last winter one of the gremtost belles in New York society was stopped in a Sixth avenue store wit thirty TL worth of lace in her pos. session. These people sre never ex- posed, except by accident. Their plun- der is taken from them, and they are warned that a repetition of the offense will lead to their arrest, and sent off. Those who are arrested are either professional shoplifters or sus- pected by the searcher and detective to be such. You can scarcely be mistaken in deciding their character, The shop- lifter goes out provided with immense pockets to stow her plunder in and an ample cloak or wrap of some sort to cover it. The kleptomaniac, on the con- trary, makes no such preparation. She steals when the hnmor strikes her, and hides what she has stolen as cunningly as she ean without any artificial means of concealment. Male as well as female kleptomani- acs haunt our stores, and some male shoplifters operate in them. A new fashion in store-stealing is for a male and female thief to operate together, Two of the cleverest orliftenin the country are an Englishman and a French- woman, who travel together. He has i 1 The bookbinders' craft was at its »e- nith just before the invention of print. ing ; it has waned since, because nobody would care nowadays to give such prices as were cheerfully paid for books in the | days when it took twenty-five months of | a patient scribe’s work to produce one copy of the Bible. The bindings of | such costly books were works of art. Milan first, we are told, acquired a repa.- | tation for its bindings of Spanish leather, | ambesqued and gilt, which superseded | the oli fastaonel bindings of wood, | metal, or ivory ; but until the close of | the fifteenth century the bindings of 3 $ books used on the high altars of cathe- drals were mostly of solid gold orsilver, | Bruges has produced some beautiful | works of this description, likewise bind i i of many colors. At Yvpres, the] first made plain bindings of cloth, em- broidered more or less ; but these were used only for small volumes of jests and ballads, and for the horn-books out of which the children in noble families learned their letters. Venice had a! name for its bindings in ivory and woods from the East; Florence, like Ghent in Flanders, abounded in brass artificers, and produced brazen bindings gilt or silvered, each one the work of a master craftsman, for none ventured to make book-covers who were not skilled with tools ; but the most gorgeous bindings of all that were made before the inven tion of printing came from Rome. Here the guild of Italian goldsmiths had its chief hall ; and there was always a sure sale for rich bindings of wrought gold, i earliness. White Ele drical, with « shant.—Late, long, evlin- Ped eves, skin white and smooth. Flesh fine-grained, white and of good quality. A productive and valuable winter variety, Adirondack— Tate, round, dark copper In general character similar to but harder and more prolific. Said to suffer less from drongth than other varieties, White Star. —A eross between Excel- gior and Peachblow. Medium late, eyl- excellent quality, keeps well and yields profusely, Farm and Garden Notes, Dark stables are injurious to the eyes One gallon of neat's-foot oil mixed good harness oil, Thyme will grow anywhere, but it prefers a dry poor soil; if the ground is rich the plant will become too luxuriant, There are 6,000,000 square inches to an pcre: ina bushel of timothy seed there are 40,000,000 seeds, or nearly seven seeds to the square inch. The sweepings of the barn floor when clover is fed to the cattle are excellent for poultry in winter; the tops and caves make an excellent substitute for grass, There is no probability that milking either heifer or cow before she calves or objecting to do it may do her serious boils cover it, and let it simmer gently | for an hour ; when done p through a | with a wooden spoon. If the soup is not rich enough, put the residue back | into the saucepan with a ladle of soup, | and after standing some time steam again. Finish with half ist of boiling cream. and two ounces of table butter, season, and serve with it fine lozenge. | shaped pieces of bread, fried in clarified butter. A good soup for Lent. IO AOI Hats in Church. To all wearers of silk hats, when once they get inside the church, the hat be- | comes a serions difficulty. Of all the various expedients by which ingenious chureh-goers have endeavored to safely | dispose of their hats there is no one woved to be fallacious. | The extreme danger of placing a hat in the aisle immediately outside the wow is universally known. The fi Py that sweeps up the aisle carries, with her a confused mass of defenseless hats, which are deposited in the shape of a terminal momine in the front of the pew which is her final goal. Of course the hats which have been sub. process are reduced by attrition to a rounded form, and are cov- ered with scratches, reminding one of glacial action on granite boulders. However interesting they may be to the hats, and can rarely be bent into a shape | that will allow their owners to wear them | home. Inthe days when expansive erin- | Marguerite fixed her large, calm eyes | the look of a superlatively elegant swell® softly; then, as her husband continued | airs than a drummer. His companion is to evoke the past, she looked at Lim | one of the prettiest and most lady- tenderly, with a look that supplicated | like women I ever saw. ) and was not without rp But | wonld never take them for any but a high-toned married “Ab, it is to you that I owe all my | couple. Yet they are the most danger happiness, monsienr! My child, my ous eriminals of their kind I ever met little boy, look at him, my little Pierre! | with. They are now in Ban Francisco, It was my wife who wished that he | We ran them out of New York last win- thing should have that name! Isn't he a fine is going on first-rate. My wife, 1 adore 1€ “And the other?” asked I, impru- dently. “The other ?” said Chevaucheux. He curled his lower lip, did not see that Marguerite turned her head away, and answered: “ Pierre Puvioux ? Poor fellow. He arrived second, * * * and that very evening—it made me ery, I can tell you —that very evening * * * he threw himself into the river.” A New York firm sends us a double- column “ad.” of a new stenographic | pen, for the insertion of which in the | daily for three weeks, the firm agrees to | send us a pen, { Just sold it to a one asutographic pen, ink, some man will be drowned at that ! don't you forget it, —Hawkays, ter, and they operated in Philadelphia 1 suppose we'll hear of them in Australia next. It is getting to | be fashionable to make trips around the ! world, you know, The Japanese Langnage, The J=punese langnage isa complete | hieroglyphic system and the caligraphy | a system of drawing or painting. Every | schoolboy has te learn at least 1,000 dif- | ferent characters; in the elementary | schools of the government 3,000 have to | be taught, A man with pretensions to ' scholarship must be acquainted with | about 10,000; and a very learned man | with that number multiplied many times, | A Japanese must devote at least ten years’ | persistent and earnest study to ‘the ac- i i | quisition of his own language if he de- | sires to possess n, knowledge of it suffi cient for the purposes of an educated man, The mechanical art of handling the brush so as to paint the characters with skill and rapidity occupies fo kmall part of a learner's time, | seeing that the kings and potentates who came to visit the Papal Bee invariably gave and received presents of splendid books. OA. 00,8 What the New Stove Will Do, When the stove and fuel gas come into general nse--~when a man’s wife can | broil a steak, cook oysters on toast, bake | potatoes, make an omelette and peform { several other cnlinary feats inside of ten { minutes, without the annoyance of ashes, | or the faintest odor escaping from the cooking, she will acquire such a sweet | and even temper in the morning that she { will retain a large portion of it when | her weary husband returns home an hour | after midnight ; and instead of finding | her with a scowl on her brow and a club in her hand’ he will see her soundly slumbering, with a sweet and self-assu- ring smile playing about her mouth, and a nicely prepared lunch awaiting him on the burean. But the professor's patent will be mighty rough on the divorce lawyers — Norristown Herald. NI A 503 The Biggest Hog. A Galveston man has just returned from a visit to the interior, and tells about a conversation he overheard in a small town. There was a big fair, and there was considerable rivalry rbout the biggest hog], One lady asked another after the awards had been made: “Did your husband or mine get the prize for the biggest hog?’ i hat deposited in the aisle was still more appalling. When a well-dressed lady | passed by its vicinity it disappeared vo- | There are cases on re- | le woman has | injury. White priarcut are grows in vent quantities by the florists, being made to | : a as background for Atom flowers, | tally from sight, aio They are mixed with violets for funeral | cord where one fashionah sjecos. caused the disappearance To heavily feed a cow of small milk- | ing capacity is very poor economy. Rich | food will produce good results when fed to cows that give large quantities of | rich milk. the pew in the of the pulpit. What was the final fate of those hats was never ascertained. They | simply vanished and left no trace be- church door to neighborhood A simple and effective remedy for lice on cattle is to give them a thorough dusting over with wood ashes every other day, brushing them clean the fol lowing day. A garden should not be shaded by large trees, for there are few vegetables or flowers which flourish under shade and drip, and the strong roots of trees usurp all the soil. Liebig remarks that it has taken thousands of years to convert stones and rocks into arable land. and thousands more will be required for the complete exhaustion of their alkalies, It is said by careful men that it is most profitable to grow for beef those animals that can be turned off at two years old. Greater age will give weight, yut at a much increased cost. Too much hay and too little grain is a common mistake in feeding working horses, Twelve quarts of good heavy oats and twelve pounds of hay is a good “ Neither of them got it. A strange hog from the country got it," ... News, daily ration for a working horse. | hind. As to putting one’s hat on the | floor underneath the seat, no man who | follows this reckless course can expect anything but disaster. If there is a small boy in the pew he will in- fallibly discover that hat and kick it to the further end of the pew within the first thirty minutes of the service. If thereisa lady in the pew a surgical | operation will be required to remove her boot from the interior of the hat, while, in any event, the hat is cer- tain to absorb every icle of dust within a radius of eight feet, and to fasten itself to the floor with the aid of forgotten Sunday-school gum-drops. Neither under the seat, on the seat, nor in the aisle, can the worried hat find rest, and the plan of establishing a hat- pound in the vestible, where hats can be ticketed and kept during the service, would simply result in converting a church into a hat exchange, where the sinners would secure all the good hats, and the saints would be compelled to content themselves with the worn-out and worthless ones. Halter's Exchange, tight laciog among men is becoming | in Europe.” glish tiem do privy ny en Wear ularly ie they ride on Ix : general is the custom that | ceriain corset makers in London now advertise themselves as gentlemen's stay makers. The practice is also quite | many - i § and upright carriage is not in good taste amang ihe Parisian ex- | quisites, and so the white satin corsets of the dandies of Compiegne have found | but few imitators in France. — Chicago | Tines, EE The Care of the Matches, In nothing about the household dos the injunction to have “a far’ everything” require more strict enforce | ment than in the care of matches. What are known as or matches” light more readily, and are as much more dan- are more convenient. The general 3 should be kept in a tin box, which is not | to be opened or taken from, except by the | waster or mistress of the house. For each | room where matches are used there should | be a metal wmatch-safe of some kind, | and the matches are to be kept in that | and nowhere else. It should be regarded | as a serious offense for a match to be anywhere or for ever so short a time found “lying around loose.” In the kitchen and the bedroom, or wherever else matches are in frequent use, it is better to have the match-safe fixed and always in the same 2 , 80 that it can be found if need in the dark. Jn taking matches from the larger box tore lenisk the safes, let that always be done ¥ One petaen, and it will pay for that per son to look over the matches at the time throwing away all broken ones, where, as is often the ease, two or more are stuck ther by the explosive mis ture these should be carefully broken apart, and unless two matches are the result, rather than to put into the safe one with too little and the other with a ragged excess of the throw both away. fire those matches that have two or three times as much of the mixture on the ends as they should have. These in lighting often explode and scat ter buming particles in a dan- gerous manner. If in lighting match, day or night, it breaks or losive end comes off without o nothing else until that end and put into the fire or where no harm. In with the hock of the hind leg o horse. ~ gel. a proper idea of to walk on t $. lips of your will then see : extremities of the horse and of as if to touch sbashed, if he were before | The National ee the as France Notes and Queries. Ea = Yes; but the Japanese cultivate over Japan, by the millions, the sakura tree, which is valued only for the beanty of its pr pL an entire tr you ¢0 ripe cherries enough to make a pie; but the s are massed together on the
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers