They stood together looking down Upon the waters blue, When suddenly the rail gave way, And she went tumbling through, Oh, help her life to save, I did not dream when her 1 wad, She'd find 4 wat'ry grave.” They fished her out and brought her up, A dripping mermaid she ; Her husband seized her wet, cold hands, So glad he seamod to be, “Thank God,” be oried, “you are not drowned I'm spared that bitter pain ; But I will never lot you keep The pocket-book again,” We Can Make Home Happy. Though we may not change tho cottage For mansions tall and grand, Or exchange the little grass-plot For a boundless stretoh of land 3 Yet there is something brighter, dearer, Than the wealth we'd thus command, Thétigh we have no means to purchase Costly pictures rich and rare; Though we have not silken hangings For the walls so cold and bare, 4 hang them o'er with garlands, flowers bloom everywhere, x £oan make home very cheerful, « Ifthe right course we begin 3 We oan make its inmates happy, And thoir traest Wlossin®s win ; It will make a small room brighter If we lot the sunshine in, We can gather round the fireside When the evening hours are Jong ; We can blend our hearts and voices In happy social song ; We can guide some erring brother Toad him from the path of wrong. We may ar home with music, And with sunshine brimming o'er, If against all dark introders We will firmly close the door ; Yot shoul the evil shadow enter, We must Jove each one the more, There are treasares for the lowly Which the grandest fail to find ; TE re's a chain of sweet affection tween friends of kindred mind ; Wa may reap the chorcest blessings From the poorest lot assigned, LAGNIAPPE. Why do I wear a dog's tooth set in gold for a watch charm? Ab, boys, it | is to reminl me of an infirmity that has brought Jack Campion trouble ever since he learned to talk. To begin at the right end: I was just twenty-five when my father bought | me a plautation up in the swamp, where fortunes are still to be made in | spite of the changes of war, : You Nerthern folks don't know much about life on the banks of the old Mis- sissip, that's a fact. Strange that nature should make it easy in the swamp to do everything but —live! Some people say you must be | half alligator to get along there; but | asfor me I was always tough. Cotton anh, corn grow higher than the head of | a man on horseback; thesoil is so fertile | that a Northern farmer in the midst of | his stony fields wonld call the tilling it | receives mere child's play; and in addi- | tion to these blessings, your brains at | some seasons are nearly jolted out of | your head by * the chills.” My honse stood behind the green | levee, which from the river made the | trees look as if they had no trunks, At night the fog fell and fell upon | the low mnddy banks, like some one | carding cotton, and I conld see the head- | light of some steamboat now and then | looming up through the dusk like a| great red eye, and hear the wild cries, half musical, half nneouth, of the roust- abouts. Then came the whistle—low and hoarse at first, and deep as the bass notes of a tremendous organ, and rising snd shrilling into a wail of agony. How unutteravly melancholy it used to sound, dying hopelessly on the dead, unchanging flats beyond! Plenty of sport, too, up there for a hunting man—herds of deer, foxes, wild hogs, and hnmbler game, such as 'coons and "possums. Well, I went to work with a will, de- termined to be a model planter. Among other transactions I swapped my rifle with Jules Bastien, an aged and dried- up creole, for a stout-built Texas cob. “ Yait a meenit,” said Jules, hobbling to the back of his cabin. “1 geeve you lagniappe; I trow heem een.” Lagniappe (pronounced lanyap), let me explain, is what the vulgar American ealls “boot.” He returned, bringing with him a brown paper bag that might have contained chincapins or pindars. Then, as it squirmed slightly, I was stinck by the fear that this present might prove to be crawfish, and that Jules would force the repulsive delicacy upon me. I was comforting myself with the thought that I could toss them into the nearest mud-hole on my way home, when out of the aperture popped a brindied head, all eyes and ears. “Eetees a fine leetle puppy dogue,” enid Jules. “Take heem; he keep off de tief by de night.” I thanked the old fellow, and was really grateful; for I had no dog, and I fancied that Lagniappe—so 1 chris tened him —would prove good company. As time developed him he became a character study. He was part bulldog and part honnd, with more than a strong dseh of cur, I suspected. The bulldog strain made him hold on like grim death to anything in which he fastened his teeth, and from his hound ancestors he derived the habit of howling systemat- ically for an hour at a stretch if you wounded his feelings. He had the largest, brightest eyes I ever saw, and a trick of rolling them as comically as a negro minstrel. For the rest he had drooping ears and a tail with a perpetual curl in it, like a pot-hook. He was not much of a beauty, and he did not use his brains to good purpose. On certain occasions he showed his low degree most plainly. There was the hunger of generations in bim. No well-bred dog ever went into such coan- vulsions of delight at feeding-time. Harold, my father’s old setter, would sometimes condescend to a dignified gambol, but he never turned double somersaults at sight of a piece of meat. As Lagniappe grew older Jacinthy, my woman-of-all-work, advanced the opinion that he was “a debbil,” snd, indeed, his conduct warranted the com- pliment. Everything tearable he tore, When he found that he could not climb upon the table he would pull off the cloth and calmly feast among the frag- ments of broken crockery. Pillows, cashions, towels—everything movable, in short—he conveyed under the house, 1t was part of Jacinthy's regular morn- ing work to make pilgrimages thereto, emerging each time with loud groans and declarations that her back was ““ mos’ broke.” If he had been a child instead of a puppy I should have been sure he was going to prove a naturalist, he had such a mania for “specimens,” I used to find a small museum on the front gallery every morning—several old bones, a tin can, a discarded sun-bonnet and gigan- tic shoe of Jacinthy’s, besides a dead bird. This bird in particular was always turning up unexpectedly in the most malodorous condition. Forcible ents could never persuade Lagni- appe that it was offensive. He had a fashion of presenting it to me, after his more flagrant misdeeds, as an aet of propitiation, until it resolved itself into one wing and a few feathers. His delight was to snatch the food out of the very mouth of Max, my horse; leaping into the trough and scat- tering the corn far and wide, As for having a dog to intimidate thieves, I often wished for a few thieves to intimidate this dog. He Possessed an incredible impudence. The only A EAA AI = RE A VOLUME XI1V. | ancawas a concertina owned by Jacinthy, | from which she could draw blood | curdling strains, At the first { would utter a howl, and retire under { Among the members of my household | was a lean, ghostly white turkey, with | whom Lagniappe waged perpetual war. | It was not that he was oy abusive, { but he bowed and scraped around it { with such absurd airs of exaggerated civility that the turkey never could con. | sole its tomper. This creature was al- | most as fond of me as Lagniappe was, | and sometimes, after going to my room, | I would hear a ghostly chuckle over { head, and looking up, there would be i my feathered friend roosting on the | tester of the old-fashioned bed. { With all his faults Lagniappe was af- fectionate, and loved to sit beside me, hand. After all, there's no friend like a faithful dog. It never makes any dif ference to him whether you grow old i and ngly or lose all your money. He { bears your kicks and curses patiently, and presently, when you are m a good temper again, he is ready to wag his tail and frisk about you. Poor Lagniappe ! he brought me one of the best things in my life. I wish I | had been more grateful, but at that time my violent temper often carried me away. The worst of not confine his depredations to my own | times under the necessity of restoring | stolen articles, toot | Joos of poems. at the fly-leaf, and saw written there: The Oaks.” pended the words, ** Sweet Anne Page” marginal note, * Stuff and nonsense.” | Then I remembered that my father | I pictured her tall and | rose, and an air of gentle and gracious | I intended returning the book im- | its contents, Here and there I found a read with redoubled interest, { At last I found a leisure afternoon. | Lagniappe showed an inelination to | Seemingly he bowed t« fate, for he lingered beside the hedge almost | So I left him. On my way toward Colonel Page's | plantation I took a cut-off through the | fields, but I soon discovered that it led | me to a side gate. However, I went in, | and followed the bridle-path until the | sound and voices told ne I was near the | house; so I checked uy horse behinda | clump of japonicas m order to recon- | nuiter. Peering through the branches, 1 | could see jutting out from the side of | the mansion a little portico, on which , a silvery-haired old lady was standing, | with a young girl beside her. Such a girl! What a gypsy she was! Heavy masses of dark bair, a pomegranate | bloom on her cheeks, and the wildest, brighest, sauciest, most langhing eyes— but I will not enlarge, as the preachers say. Before them stood an elderly negro | in a defiant attitude. “ Abram,” the old lady was saying, “7 really cannot stand this any longer. Three times in one week yon have come home in a state of intoxication.” “ Now, ole mistis, jes you shet up, was Abram’s astounding rejoinder. “It's Missy Anne what I'm addressin'.” “ Well, hurry up, and say what you have to say,” retorted the young lady. “Now, Missy Anne, doesn’t I always drive you out nice, an’ go whar you sends me? An’ you know you don’ min’ sendin’ me out any time o' day er night, no matter of it's rainin’ rattle- | snakes—no, nor scarpenters, neider, An’ when I takes you ont in de c¢'r'age, an’ you whistles an’ sings an' behaves like a young lady didn’t oughter aet, does ever make any 'jections wid you?" “No, Abram; I should hope you know your place better,” said the girl, suppressing a giggle with severity. “ Well, den”—in a conclusive tone— “what fanlt has you got to find o' me, name o’ gracious 7’ “Oh, go along, Abram,” said the elder lady. “You are incorrigible. Only don't let me see you again in such a condition.” “No, mistis; I won't, mistis, Bat you doesn’t "pear to ‘member dat I can't | take a teaspoonful o’ anythin’ 'thout its | makin’ me right down sick.” And he departed, shaking his head over her lack of charity. Feeling something of a sneak, I thought it high time to emerge. I re- | ceived a cordial reception from Mrs. Page and her pretty grandchild, whom she had never allowed to feel the loss of a mother. The colonel was a tall, 1 I looked like my grandfather, and in- sisted upon rehearsing pages of my family history, while 1 was longing to talk to ** sweet Annie.” He might have been talking still bad not the patter of eet made itself audible, and who should come gayly into the room but Lagniappe! Making straight for Annie, he jumped into her lap. This was the first thing that puppy ever did that gave me a respect for him, “Oh, law! oh, gracious!” Annie cried, jumping np and spilling him on the floor. “ Please excuse the little wretch,” I said, when I had thrust him out foreibly. “And I have another apology to make for him,” I added, producing the volume of poems. “My book! Why, gran’'ma, you know I have been wondering where it has gone. Do you suppose he stole it out of the summer-honse, Mr. Campion ?” “I'm afraid he did,” said I * His name by rights should be Barabbas,” “ What a dear ennning thing he must be!” she cried. * Give him to me; won't you, please ?”’ “No, Anne; not another dog shall come into this house,” the colonel an- swered, in an aggravated tone. “One can't move at present without tumbling over one or two. That great brute of a St. Bernard takes pleasure in making himself look like a door mat, because he knows I am nearsighted.” “Oh, but this is such a smart, inter- esting puppy,” urged Anne, giving an ecstatic spring upon her chair. “My dear Anne,” said Mrs, Page, in- dulgently, ‘ what will Mr, Campion think of you?” “I ean’t help it, gran’ma,” replied Miss Anne, blushing up to the curls on her forehead, but laughing at the same time. ‘Even if [ should be prim now, Mr. Campion wonld find me out sooner or later. I shock every one; butit is my nature, just as dogs delight to bark and Editor and Propri CENTR ! §o.on i at times." { ‘He must be hand to please,” | trying not to look guilty. “The truth is" i endure a good deal on that account” { to me a totally unnecessary explanation | i prospered finely. She had a y platoons, presented her with the latest There them, i her glov o i { moments when 1 and slipper. hated were For a | ont-off seemed the length of an eternity, {and Max's fleetest pace could pot keep | step with my desire, As for Lagniappe, he became her ab | joot slave, testifying his adoration by | rolling his eyes and lolling out an inor- i dinately long red tongue when she held { him in her arms and addressed { “an old precious,” and *‘too cute to i live.” His greatest breach of decorum { was to bite the ends of her long braid take i § place, rides on the train of Lagniappe's heart was I that was clear. 1 { world was not of our mind. Un one oceasion I found Abram “liggerfo i the cotton as I crossed the field. i He looked np, and remarked, as he i pulled his grizzled foreloek: I hope 1 see y’ t I's jes lookin® everywhere fer yon." said I, with 16r gown, he right io all 1] " l t : 5 3 | nrely setting a “So it seems,” He was obtuse. “Yes,” said he, Missy Anne she sent big hurry wid sumpin gimme? A book-or twas a letter; 'n where'd I put dat air? mn ar This was soothing to a lover's ear, 5 ised him, won't missy be rampagin'! She writ leven times, I reckon.” numerons pockets too ragged to hold I improved the occasion by a mopping his forehead with disremembered “Tell he added, you mistis she'll do pooty good, ef ¥' let her rickety. An’ headstrong. ittle, but, oh, lawdy !"” " Yes, on . tainly, sah, 1 uve ingly; but he nsi ished to earth. sah—yes, sah—vyes, sah : did not 1 3 wy vi “a little dance” Page was my promised wife, Spring was drawing near, and as it slope, so I felt tolerably sure of Anne's to find me swept away by a flood. Although I laughed at her fears, I kept making a tour of generally out of One afternoon I was able to find my mud boots, and natu- rally their disappearance was laid at Lagniappe's door, although his inno. and cheerful countenance (I must remark here that Jacinthy blamed Lagniappe her Sunday bonnet.) In the second place, the whole day had been filled with a stinging rain, and a chill, damp air that went to one’s bones, until just before 8 inset, when the west broke up into ragged clouds, from which streamed a garnish yellow glow. half obscured in a cloud of fog. Max's heavy soil, and left spongy marks be- hind them. Lagniappe was ranging a few feet ahead of me, when, just as I had crossed the “branch,” he startled up a covey of vartridges right under Max's nose, Well, that was the only shabby trick Max ever served me. *“ But ‘twas enough; it sufficed,” as the fellow in the play eays, for he pitched me off against I was conscious of a grinding pain in my left leg, and when 1 tried to get on my feet I found that useful member was —broken. “ This is the deuce of an idea,” I said. & Lagniappe was walking round and round me curiously, and as I looked at him an <i -<piration seized me. With some trouble I took a pencil and a scrap of paper from my pocket and scrawled a few lines upon it. Then I called the dog coaxingly and showed him the slip, pointing in the direction of The Oaks, which was not more than a mile away. He seemed to understand, for he grabbed the paper; but he had not gone far before he tore it up and ran back to me. I coaxed, commanded, threatened in vain. He looked roguish, and wagged his comical tail. Then I lifted up my voice and woke the echoes, but there was no answering shout, 1 fired my pistol several times, but no one came. Very well then,” gaid I. “JT sup- pose I must lie here till morning.” I removed the comforter from about my neck—it was some of Anne's bandi- work, by-the-bye—and began to roll it up into a cushion for my head, deter. mined to be as comfortable as possible, when Lagniappe, with a wicked look, snatched it out of my hands and darted off into the underbrush, to tear it into ribbons, I never doubted. Abandoned by even my horse and dog, you may believe that my feelings were not enviable. The pain of the fracture was intolerable—a violent throbbing, varied by a grinding agony whenever 1 moved a hair's-bre.dth. I had also the consolation of reflecting that this long delay might make an amputation neces- sary, and I quailed at the thought of being a cripple. Fever and the want of a proper support had sent all the blood to my head, and hetween rage and pain 1 was well-nigh crazy. I longed to strangle Lagniappe. I was alone in the horrible silence of etor. E HALL, CENTRE naked flat and the river threateningly against the levee. There was no moon, but a pale watery light spread itself over the sky. Boon I ex pected to feel the main on my upt urned fnoa. Then it seemed to me that the thoughts in my brain began to buzz like bees with an ever dilating and decreas ing sound, “God! if I could faint, or die!” 1 gasped. There was a crackling in the dead loaves, and looking up 1 saw Lagniappe. His sides heaved and foam hung on his lips. I felt for my pistol; there was still one cartridge in it. My hand was | unsteady; be wavered dizzily before my eyes; but the shot sped true to the | mark. A sharp howl rang out on the | still #ir, and he fell quite aiose to me The sound sobered me. ** Lagniappe I" i I eried, in horror at my own deed, and | I flung the pistol as far as my arm could send it, At my voice his large eyes rolled, and he wagged his tail feebly as he dragged | himself nearer and tried to lick my hand, | Then a quiver ran through his body, 1 felt him; he was still warm, but he was i dead. | Well, boys, I don't mind telling you that I cried like a baby. A moment | niterward I heard voices and footsteps. Lights flashed through the dark, and { soon a crowd of people came out from ! behind the trees. In the midst of them | was sweet Anne herself, the dark ten drils of bair curling up with the damp aronnd her face, that bloomed like a | rose under the shadow of her white hood. “ Anne!” I eried, bewildered. “Yes, my dearest Jack,” she said; “it was all Laginappe's work, He came ranning in with your comforter, and i knew something had happened you. | Papa wasn't at home, 20 I came myself, aud we followed Lagniappe.” “I done tole missy free er fo' times | dat I eould boss dis yer job myself; but 1e'll hab her own WAY er bust,” was | Abram’s charsecteristio rejoinder. ““ And, oh, Jack I” ened Anne, **1] | know something dreadful is the matter | with you." “ Broken leg,” 1 managed to say. si Well, we must take yon home as | soon us we can. And where's Laginappe ? ~dear little hero ? Jack, he's dead I” I had to tella lie. Anne,” I said, { “he came running through the bushes; {it was dark, and 1 fired.” I knew nothing after that, A merciful fainting fit saved me from the jolting of the rough litter, improvised of rails and boughs, on which they placed me, with Lagniappe'’s dead body by my side, I was taken to The Oaks and nursed back to strength by Anne and her | grandmother; but always in the bottom i of my heart lay the cold thought that I had murdered my friend. The worst of it was I discovered af | terward that Jacinthy's son—a gay young { bachelor—had borrowed my | wear to a party; so, after all, Lagniappe blameless I've been a fortunate man in my life, in my wife and family and friends; : 1 think of the i look in Laginappe's ayes the night i { shot him Let's talk of something 1 ’ 3 f QI80, ~ Harper's Bazar, boots 0 i had been { sometimes when The Some time since information was re- ceived by the government authorities that the king of Siam was about sending a stone as a contribution to the Wash ington monument. The king has fol- { lowed out his good intention, and the | stone has arrived. The letter ROCCO Pa | nying it states that it was excavated by his majesty’s orders from the quarries in the Korat hills, distant about one | hundred miles from the city of Bangkok. His majesty, during his youth, while a | prince of the realm, conceived a pe- | enliar fondness for America and her | liberal institutions, derived in great | part from the instructions of our mis- | sionaries resident there, and assumed ! the title of “George Washington." For many years prior to his elevation to the { throne he was familiarly addressed as | “Prince George Washington,” and even | to-day enjoys a reference to that circum. stance, The king left it optional with his agents to have the inscription on ithe stone engraved in Eoglish or | Siamese. As it was found dificult t« Washington Monument, the English were adopted. inal of the inscription in Siamese lan- guage is, however, inclosed on a slip of paper. The full name and title of the royal doner is : “His Majesty Krom Phra { Ratcha Wang Berwang., Batan Mong- | kong, Second King of Siam." The stone is small, being about six inches by twelve, and is of a peculiar yellowish brown color. The inscription says: “Presented to the Washington Monvu ment Association by His Majesty, th Second King of Siam.” i Mr, Larkin G. Meade, sculptor, who | is now in Florence, some years ago | made a proposition te embellish the | monument by four bronze panels on! the sides of the shaft near the base, giving base relief representations of scenes marking epochs in Washington's life. Mr, Meade has already made de. signs in clay for two of these panels. The first represents the surrender of | Cornwallis. The second has just been completed, and Mr. Meade has sent a photograph of the design to the Mon- ument Association. It represents the inanguration of Washington on the portico of the old custom house in New | York, The proposition to placo these panels on the sides of the shaft has met with some favor, though no official action has been taem. Work on monument is progressing favorably. the shaft is now 227 feet high, sixty | feet having been added since the work was resumed. It is expected that be- fore the first of next January at least forty feet more will be added to its height,— Washington Post, - i ——————— the i How a Fog Whistle Works, Tha fog whistle, heard afar for ten miles, consists of two distinet whistles, operated by two engines in a building separate from the lighthouse, Fifty pounds of steam is the force carried while at work. Every blast lowers the mark four pounds, Shavings and kindling wood are laid all ready to start up steam when a fog comes on, and the engineer can heat up for work in thirty-five minutes, The whistle gives a blast of eight seconds duration every minute—a dole- ful sound, but invaluable to steamers and passing sailing vessels, We could hear it the other night booming dis- mally through a fog five miles off, The captain starts in when the fog is such that he can't see Goose Island, one mile distant. The whistle is produced by a wheel with a cam affixed; the wheel, a solid piece of work, regulated by a governor, revolves once a minute; the cam fixed at one point on its periph- ery, opens a pipe, which lets off steam in the prolonged booming wail we had heard, To supply water for steam a big tank under the same roof and supplied by a winter night, That silence, pregnant with half-uttered sounds, whispered suggestions of evil ten times worse than the broad reality. Not the chirp of a thing that ever put him out of counten- bite. Even Abram—why, Mr, Campion, bird, not the stir of u green leaf, only the rain from it is kept pretty full. Forty feet long by eighteen wide and six deep; it is not likely to run dry in any fog; but a caloric engine and pump at the well will supply water in case of emergency.— Hartford Times, ACCIDENTAL INYENTIUNS, Mimple Origin of Some tireat Discoveries, The world knows very little of the trifling eiroumstances which brought into existence some of its most valua- ble appliances and conveniences of such a simple circumstance as an old hen, with muddy feet, straying surrep. titiously into a sugar house, would have furnished a clew for the refining of the sweet compound in the manner now ear. ried on all over the world ? Buch, how- ever, the fact, The old biddy had just wandered through a clay puddle and then over a pile of sugar. It was noticed that ves she left her tracks the sugar was thoroughly whitened. Experiments were insti tuted and the result was that wet clay came to be used in refining sugar, The origin of tinted paper same about by a mere slip of the hand, The of an Eoglish paper-maker accidentally let a blue bag fall into one of the vas of pulp. The workmen were astonished when they saw the peculiar oolor of the paper, while the owner of the mill was highly incensed over what he consid. ered a grave peouniary loss, His wife was 80 much frightened that she would not confess her agenoy in the matter, After storing the damaged paper for several years, the manufacturer sent it to his in sell it for what it would bring. The paper was accepled as a * purposed novelty,” aml was disposed of at once at quite an advance over the market price. The manufacturer was astonished at receiving an order for another large invoice of the paper. He was without the secret and found himself in a di lemma, Upon mentioning it to his wife she told him about the aceident. He kept the secret, and the demand for the novel tint far exceeded his ability to supply it. Porcelain, which has been known to the Chinese and Japanese for ages, was not made in Europe until the beginning of the last century, when a German discovered the art in 8 manuver quite accidental. This man was an ap- prentice to an apothecary at Berlin, when he met with an alchemist, who, in return for some good offices done him by his master, promised to teach him the art of making gold. To discover the grand secret ke labored incessantly, and it so happened that, having mixed various earths together, in order to make strong crucibles, in the course of baking them he accidentally dis- covered the art of making poreelain, The intended transmutation took place not in the metals, indeed, but in his own person—and, as if he had been tonched with a copjuror's wand, he was all of a sudden transformed from an alchemist into a potter, The first porcelain thus manufactured was of a brownish-red oolor, being made of a brown clay, The power of lenses, as applied to telescopes, opera glasses and the like, was discovered by a watchmaker's ap- prentioe, While holding specta slo glas- ses between his thumb and finger he was startled by the sudden enlarged sppearance of a neighboring church spire. The swaving to and fro of a chandelier in a cathedral suggested to (Galileo the application of a pendulum. Mezzotinto, a partienlar manner of fine engraving on copper, owed its invention to the simple accident of the gun-barrel of a sentry becoming rusted with dew, The art of lithographing was per- fected through some suggestions made by accident. A poor musician was not be etched upon stone as well as copper. After he had prepared his slab his mother asked him to make a memorandum of anch clothes as she proposed to send away to be washed. Not having pen, ink and paper conve. pient, he wrote the list on the stone with the etching preparation, intending to make a copy of it at leisure. A few days later, when about to clean the stone, he wondered what effect aqua- fortis wonld have upon it. He applied the acid, and in a few minutes saw the writing standing out in bold relief, The next step necessary was to ink the stone and take off the impression, discovered by a glass-cutter accident ally letting afew drops of aquafortis fail upon his spectacles, He noticed that where the acid had touched it, and that was hint enough. He drew figures the glass around the drawing. When The shop of a tobacconist was destroyed by into the smoldering ruins he noticed It was a hint worth He secured another shop, gency and aroma. profiting by. to n heating process, gave the brand a id completely ruined The composition of which printing of a glue pot. It was such an excellent substitute that, after mixing molasses who got his first idea from the spread- ing of a squirt of tobacco spitona smooth floor, It is a popular delusion, existing throughout the world, that motive. of his birth, June 8, was celebrated by over 30,000,000 misinformed English- men. the world. honors not fairly his? will be the first question asked, wore them when alive, though he lived nearly a score of years after the Rocket made its first and forever famous trip. Clearly, Stephenson never believed him- solf the inventor, and the delusion that he was, came about through a remarks able book issued in 1867, 1f Stephenson had never lived nor thought, the loco- motive conld still be the world's servant to-day. But without the idea which first sprang into Evans's brain, not only the locomotive, but an immense magjor- ity— practically all—of the steam en- gines of the globe would be impossible. Evans, it should be stated was an Amer- ican, who was born in Newport, Del, in 1755, and died in New York in 1819. Te a certain degree the locomotive, like other remarkable productions, came about by accident, When a youthful apprentice, Evans began his efforts to discover some sub- stitute for animal power in moving wagons, As a boyish trick, a gun. may be imagined. to Evans that this was the power he was in search of BSabsequently he steam pump used in English mines, and in which he at once noticed that the sole use of steam in it was to pro- duce a vacuum. Two and two were quickly put together, exyeriments fol lowed, in which a piston Was driven by steam, and in 1781 he announced that he could thus propel boats and wagons. He was promptly declared eragy, and a putent was denied him on that ground, lut he persevered. In this country there were no rails, but in the English mines there were, and to Eogland he In 1757 one Captain Masters took drawings and specifications to England for the express purpose of exhibiting thew to engineers, In 1794.5 J. B, Bampson went over for the same in this country. No impression what ever seems to have been made in Eng- land, except that in 1802 Richard Treve- The American edition of “Wood on Railways" distinetly charges that he point need not be insisted on, since earlier and better, In this country, (17868), and to embodiment in iron and employment in actual practical use, The idea of land and water locomotion was temporarily sbandoned, and in resources —for he had been too busy in- venting to make money, though it came to him rapidly enough when he turned his attention to it—he built the first snocessful double-scting, high-pressure steam engine, the archetype of the standard motor of the world to-day. The cost was $3,700. It was nota model. It was a practical engine, and was pul to use in sawing and grinding. Soon after Evans received an order from the Philadelphia board of health for an engine to be used in dredging docks. He built it in a scow in his workshop, he mounted it on wheels, and he drove it by its own power a wile and a-balf over the highway to the SBehuyl. kill, where he launched it. Thence it paddled its own way by a stern wheel to Philadelphia. Three years later Fal. ton built a better steamboat. Twenty- Rocket. Dut this was the first applica. tion of a high-pressure steam engine to land and water locomotion, passenger railroad ceived —to run between New York and Philadelphia. His idea, using his words, to deviate in any place more than two ken stone or gravel, with a rail to guide the carriages, so that they may pass each travel by night as well as day.” fered “to make a steam carriage that that I have double price for it if it run with that velocity, and nothing at all for it if it shall not come up to that speod, to insure the performance of his en. gines ¥' What, indeed? He purpose 40 years ago, and will warrant make steam engines to run 12 or 15 at my own expense if required.” All would not do. People did not grasp the idea, and he oonld not get the money. Then Evans wished to place himself able: ‘*The present geneiation,” said steam carriages on railways as the per. fection of the art of conveyance ; tested even on the present turnpikes, as birds fly. night as well as by day, and the passen- fortably as they now do in steam stage English mind has only lately completely before the first passenger train was over train that has ever moved, steam at $1,000,000,000, a sum say how many times it would need to be ments is most incomplete, tion in the manufacture of flour, con. By this machinery the grain was put vention of haman hand. The saving form of a vessel for sailing.” It isas compact, as methodical, as well reasoned of mind was his. 1t points to a grasp Franklin. “Understanding this subject may enable us to excel others therein as much as our engines excel theirs,” he position to the theory of the French academy, of which he knew, and of the directed his boat to be built with a bow of a certain sharpness, although every other boat then existing was about as well shaped for speed as a Jane Maria on the Erie canal. But even to enu- merate his leading works is too great a tack for this place. Buffice it to say that at one time he hed fifteen lawyers yermanently engaged in the defense of iis rights to his own ideas. Although entitled to perhaps the most valuable patents over granted to mun, at 50 he was penniless, at 60 he ceased invent- ing, and a% 64 he died, leaving to his descendants a small property and a name most honorable, but almost un- honored and forgotten. How many Americans know these facts? How many should be permitted to remain in ignorance of them ? It is true, indeed, that America knows little of one of ite greatest men,— Boston Herald. ID sisson. There are men whose friends are more to be pitied than their enemies. { | MODERN DETECYIVE WORK. | A Profession With Little Romance or Myse tery About fn, G. H. Pinkerton, the well-known New York detective, said to a New York re- porter: To begin with, I'll say that detectives are divided into three general elasses: investigators and ropers When a man begins this business he is put at shadowing, It is an excellent way to test him and see what stuff there is in him, If he will watch & house or a man day after day, withont exciting suspicion, it is pretty safe to employ A good shadow is an a great many oases of crime there is no clew to the criminal, but only a suspi- cion. The shadow is told to wateh such » man and see what he does, what sort of company he keeps, where he resorts; the inmates is, what hours they keep. Now, in order to do this a man must have tact, intelligence, perseverance, He It is very awkward for a detective to man, While the policeman may be the most honest and faithful in the world, teetive is around, and mentions it casn- a shadow must be a man whose appear- ance will not provoke comment or You'd not make a A very short man won't do. In fact a thor oughly commonplace looking man is the very best. He should be young and active, We have had office boys who developed considerable talent at that sort of work. Bometimes a boy can be used where a man cannot, He ean borhood, snd the criminal who may be watching from inside the house for a walk. We had a case of this kind in Baltimore at the time of the robbery of the Third National bank there. We wanted to watch a house on Perry street, and we couldn't do i with our Bo wa put a boy the man came out, and then gave the signal which resulted in his capture. But boys, as a rule, are not ssfe. They talk. Some great criminals may be captured by means of shadows. The Northampton bank robbers were shad- owed months before the arrest of Scott Billy Connors was shad- owed two months, and Bed Leary, be- weeks by three different detectives, “The investigator,” continued Mr, preliminary investigation, He usually looks the ground over, mingles with civilians, talks with every ome, and He reports the results of his investigations, Perhaps one result of his report will be that a shadow is put on a certain man, and an effort is made in that way to reach the the trath in the matter, The preliminary investi- vate investigation. “ The roper must, to speak plainly, turn the conversation in any way he He must have traveled, must be an easy talker, but a better listener, “Is a detective's life particunlariy * Not in the east. No more so than When a man has the law on his there is not much danger. Criminals eastorn thieves and burglars. Occasion- ally a young and reckless thief will attempt to shoot, but such men are of the lower order of criminals, Burglars, them in the proper manner, you'll win 1f a detective is foolish enough to go single handed into a resort he's bound to have tronble, no matter who the criminal is, The detec. Missouri, Western Tennessee, Missie- sippi, Alabama, the Indian Territory, on into the great south and west gen- Our men were working for the Adams express company at the time, “That suggests the question of pay.” *‘Well. the pay runs all the way from In fact, he does not get them. He works for so much, and does what But at the same To of course the fact that a man succeeds in If he hesitates, he need not go. Why, it's like any other business, ex- actly. Each man has his value. It Human xing a crime on some man-well, it's often dangerous for that man, guilty or innocent. The work should be done for so much, whatever the result.” “What is the average life of a de- tective ? ““ Well, I don't know as to that, I think, though, they stick to the work on an average, say fifteen years, Then they get tired of traveling, and want to settle down. They get situations ‘n banks, hotels and other institutions.” “Are female detectives much em- ployed or depended upon “It is diffleult to get a respectable woman to do detective work. There are lots of them that claim to be detec- tives, but they must be employed with caution. They are occasionally useful 10 work up a case against a woman. In such cases we usually employ a female relative of some of our men—a woman who knows what detective work is, and who is respectable, But we have to be RAS NUMBER 36. ”" RT AR I very careful always in employing Wolnan.t il v * Do detectives marry ?' *Bometimes, Bat a man with a family cannot in the natare of the case be as good a detective, as daring, as ready to go anywhere at a moment's notice as ai Bumarried man. Bat of course a many of them marry.” * Ave disguises much used “ Not nearly so often as the student of Gaborian would imagine. It's all nonsense, this tal of a man's so disguising himself b whiskers, a wig, and paint, that he ean 8 anrec ognized in daylight. He might not bs recognized, but he surely would be de- tected. The police will pounce on a man at once if they see bim wear a false beard —and it's easy snoughs $3 tell a false beard —much easier 8 wig, and they are easily detected. The shadows usually carry a soft cap or hat, or both, in their dockets to nse in case of necessity; and sometimes in the night a beard ean be used, but not often. If the criminal has ‘dro on’ a shadow, the best plan is to put another man on him. As I ssid “in the start, there's very little romance or mystery about detective’s life.” Some Common Superstitions, There is scarcely an article of dress, scarcely an article of furniture or scarce- ly an article of food about which do not cluster numerous superstitions. Ao cording to a well-known piece of folk- lore most persons wear new clothes on Easter day, mindful of the old admoni- tion : At Easter let your clothes be new, Or else bo sure you will it rua, In Yorkshire, when a married woman's apron falls off it is a sign that some- t zing is coming to vex her; when, how- ever the apron of an unmarried girl drops down she is frequently the oblsct of laughter, as there is no surer sign than that she is thinking about her sweetheart, Man are still gathered from the shoe. Thus young girls on going to bed at night place their shoes at right-angles to one another, in the form of the letter T, re- pesating this rhyme : Hoping this night my true love to see, I pisces my shoes in the form ofa T. It is frequently found that even strong-minded persons are pot exempt from the prejudice agaist sitting down to dinner when there ary only thirteen present. Many amusing anecdotes are Yosotded pt the devices resorted to for avoiding the consequences supposed to be incurred by = neglect of this su- perstition—the notion being that oze of tie thirteen, generally the youngest, will die within the next twelve months, To upset the salt-cellar indicates ap- proaching trouble; to drop a knife means that a visitor is coming, It is the he'ght of ill-luck to see the new moon reflected in a looking glass or through a window-pane ; some mothers studiously prevent their young- est child looking in one until a year old, It is slso associated with mar- riage and death. Thus, in the south ken to put on a glove or some slight article of adornment after the final lin- gering and reluctant look has been taken in the mirror. The idea is that any young lady who is too fond of the looking-glass will be unfortunate when married. Jews of the World. The London Jewish World publishes the following statistics of the Jews of the world, recently compiled by the well-known German ethnographical Ronmanis ,.......coeensnsnsenvy .s European Russi, .....covvinananas Austro-Huongary (1868)... .....00. German Empire (1875)........ Holland (1880), .......... tesa ans Egropean Turkey (before the last war Laxemburg (1875) Switzerland (1870). .0cccrnunrnnnes 400,006 2,553,458 1,373,353 520,575 68,008 TL,302 France (1872).. aly O811)...ucsananssnrnns Greece (A870)... .ccvvnen Basan ene Belgiam (188). .....ccciivninse sus Swodsn (1870)... ...... . Norway (1890)... covensinscacnsnns BPain.,....cccovvanen Seansusasasns Portugal........ AFRICA. Morooeo ....cunin..ne AVE ASIA, Asistio Turkey. .....co00iss sasanss Persia a sarrsans Russian Turkestan... ..coii0nvvne Bochars and KBIva. coo. avirvnnnnss Indi... ...c. cn rtninnnenrnansnnnns Biber ov vuiiniiivsinrarstninnes Chind, ...ccovi 0a shasnvas Saanaeanas CRUCRBNE ,. ov onsn Aesasr sens EE ANERICA, Unto] BIab0B......cccinannasinnss Canada. ...... u AAA Enna he Aransas Bl. Thomas, ............ Sar nnarseh CaracoB......covcivvin POrG ....coosunnansas Rest of America Fes aEsaanan BUurope .....consvssnnsnnnns Asia, .... Nsssa REAR AR AR CAS R ARAL AMBEIOR ou. ius vssniransnrasisnane Australin............. 6,080,132 This does not include the Falashas, who number about 200,000, and other psendo-Jews. A Great Western Farmer, A correspondent of the Chicago futer- Ocean, who visited Mr, Dalrymple, the great Dakota farmer, describes him as a ‘‘slender, quiet-looking man, with a pen behind his ear, whom yon would judge to be a schoolmasteror clergyman at sight. His hands were soft and white—more accustomed to the book or pen than the plow—and his face, where it is not covered with beard, was not burned as much as mine.” His farm is the largest in the world, embracing 80,000 acres. It is forty-five miles 1 and about one mile wide. It will yiel this year 600,000 bushels of wheat and 90,000 bushels of oats. At present Mr. Dalrymple is sending three trainloads of wheat & day to Duluth, where he loads a vessel every two days for Buf- falo. He employs 800 men and runs 200 self-binding harvesters and thirty steam threshers. The harvesters cut an average of 2,800 acres a day, and the thrashers turn out about 80,000 bushels a day. Mr. Dalrymyle estimates the cost of production for this year at $7 acre, or on his entire farm £210,000. His wheat, 600,000 bushels, brings him a net price of $1 a bushel. therefore, will be, in round | the difference between $2 $600,000. The power to do grest things ge ally arigen from the willingees Do not allow idleness to deceive for while you give it to-day it much greater : South America. Weare apt to Africa as mostly desert and wil with here sud there 5 few tribes Arabs or villages of ne x the borderlsnd with w 1 is familiar, it is natural to think inhabitants of Africa as few and far bers of the negro race number 30, 000, Many of the tribes. says our 3 Bobut James, who arrived 1 oT Dore melort wha he te bas jast taken place in that coun farmer returning at noon from the i the yard, disc ing the father was horrified to find th that the child hell a snake, and
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers