St, Valentine’s Day. Though the bird flies far, And the fair flower goes, The sweel o' the year Is wet in the snows The mid o' the winter, It breaks into bloom, And suddenly songs Are sung in the gloom. And winging hearts oross And whisper together; And a night and a day 1t is perfect weather. we Wide What Then? We wreathe our brows with fairest flowers, We qual the cup of pleasure We dance through hours of giddy mirth To music's gavest measure; The garlands fade-the cup is drained, The restless feet are weary, The eves are Jim with mists of tears And hearts are sad and dreary; What then ? We build ns monuments of fame, Wa twine us wreaths of glory, Qur names through deeds of honest worth Are told in song and story; But hand and brain grow weak at last By pain and age o'ertaken; We watoh the busy world go by Forgotten and forsaken; What then ? Ab, then we sigh for blossoms fadeless, sweots Which ones we might have pourished in our breast; We long to fill onr cup from crystal riils And turn our footsteps to the vales of rest; We learn the worth of temples built above, Of names engraven in the book of life, Of hearts made purer by the furpace fires Unbardened hip the years of toil aud strife, Oh, thoughiess one, turn not from wisdom’ WAYS, Norati the higher aims of life forget, Else memory will mock your misary, And fll the after yoars with vain regrel. —~Mre 8 LL Howell MISS TILT'S NIECE. —_ “1 wish very much I could do any- thing,” said Ted Murchisen, “1 will go up to London on purpose, if you Like, and call at your house. Butdon't they write to yeu?’ “ They think it better not. They wonld let we know if there were any- thing fresh to tell, I bave to console myself with the proverb, ‘No news is good news.” Cecile Redding spoke with a ring of sadness in her voice, and for a minute | her gray eves looked misty as she tarned them away. Directly after she glanced back at her companion and | langhad merrily, “What is the matter?’ asked the! young msk, somewhat taken by sur prise, and looking quickly first on one side and then the other, with the ex peetation of finding some cause for her | amusement, There was nothing to be | seen but the smooth lawn with its neat flower beds, the high laurel hedge, and the brown gate, half open, as though in | readiness for his departure. : His astonishment only increased the | girl's merriment, so that WAS some minutes before she conld answer, While they were standing thus in the porch a dogeart was driven by, its occupants being the village doctor and his groom, The former lcoked hard at the little | group in the doorway, balf raising his | hand to his hat, but refraining on see- ing that he was unobserved. “1 beg your pardon,” said Cecile, re- covering her gravit but von dolook so fapuy. Your coat 13 covered with green from the wordwork, and you were | ie 1% rw: a4 = ® s aware that to have a few! €8 made * 1 wasn’ patches of green on one's cloth one so irresistibly Indicrouns, It would be much more practical and sensible to | offer {0 give me a brushing before I go.” Bi: iil-psed air cansed Cecile’s mouth | to curl again as she shook ber head. “I daresay it would; but you ought to have learnt by this time not to ex-| pect anything practical or sensible from | me.” * | expected nothing, Miss Redding. | Candidly, I never knew what to expect from yon. When I am inclined to | sympathize with your tronbles yon shut | me vp by laughing in my face, and if 1 venture on & joke you look as solemn as if 1 were preaching rou a sermon. “ Your jokes are very, very bad,” she said, naively; “I think I should prefer | the rermon.” i “ Yon're always down on me,” said | Muorekison, in a mock despondent tone, | “It is fortunate your aunt is more mer- | cifal.” i “ Wen't yon come in again?” said | Cecile, ignoring this speech. * You! must be quite tired of standing,” * an “nn er go ¥ to do,” she answered, langhing again, | A novel to read, I suppose ?” “ Perhaps,” said Cecile, calmly. “Then good-bye for the present. I] shall look in again this afternoon, as 1 | rather want to see Miss Tit. You think | she is sure to be in ?’ { “Oh, yes; auntie never goes out | twice in one day.” | They shook bands, the young man | holding bers rather longer than polite- | ness required, and then the gate swung | after bum, while Miss Redding re entered the house with a heightened color, She went into the preity little dining- room aud sat down to write a letter, | which took a long time through her | stopping every few minutes with the | end of the pen pressed against her soft nuder-lip, lost in thought, and the writing forgotten. More than once she there was no one to see or note how well she looked with that flash in her fair cheek. Cecile was one of those girls whom a severe critic would set down as decid- edly not pretty, though under favoring ecirenmstances she often seemed so. Her complexion was very fair, with a pluish, peachlike bloom upon it; her eyebrows by no meane well marked but geanty; her month a little too wide and her teeth large and irregular. Her chief beanty was her brown, wavy hair, that had never been marred by scissors, but grew all over her head to its natural ‘engih, the shortest part being about her temples, where it curled and waved unassisted by art or curi-papers, gleam- ing with touches of gold shaded into the darker hue of the rest. Envious friends admired this becoming growth, and endeavored to imitate it, with un- varying ill-success. Even her aunt, Miss Alethea Tilt, had tried her hand at it, but her straight tresses absolutely refused to be tortured into anything resembling a curl, Before the letter was finished Miss Tilt eame in, accompanied by her friend and companion, Miss Pelham—a large lady, with very round, protruding eyes, and a good-natured smile, “How nice and cool you look, Ce- cile,” said Miss Tilt, sinking into a chair and fanning herself with a Japan- ese hand-screen. “I was so afraid we should meet some one—and my face I know is flaming !" ¢t Mr, Murchison has been here,” said Cecile, adding a few words by way of postseript, and looking absorbed in her writing, so that she did not see the conscious way in which her aunt dropped her eyes on to the grotesque ves on the screen. “What did he want?” Miss Pelham inquired, as she unfastened the strings of her bonnet. * Qecile carefully folded her letter in half, und answered, demurely: “To see aunt.” ¢ Dear me. How very strange!” said VOLUME XV. Editor and FProorie CENTRE wor. HALL, CENTRE CO., PA., THURS DAY, FEBRUARY 16, 1882. NUMBER 7. as I told him you would most likely be in then" “ Whatever can he wish to see me ifor? I can't imagine,” Her aunt's tone was so odd that at last Cecile raised her eves, { “Poor aunt! She thinks he is in love with her!” was the thought that flashed into her mind, and her cheek | became as rosy as her lips, “How can { she, when he is twenty-four and she six-and thirty “Now, if it had been the dootor,” said Miss Pelham, with a ponderous at- tempt at looking arch, **1 should have said he was coming to ask you a very important question.” For shame !" said Miss Tilt. phis, how can you ¥ What a shame to put such ideas into one's head,” “* Ho certainly is very fond of coming { here,” said Cecile, thoughtfully. * And be is about your age, auntie, and a very nice, kind man.” a Aly dear girl! He is yoars older {than I am. He must be at least thirty- eight X Her niece did not smile when Miss Tilt made this announcement, but she had hard work to keep her rebellious That afternoon Cecile went by herself to eall on a friend who lived some two miles away. As she was returning she met Murchison. “You should not walk alone, y in ke Soe now 1," he said, severely. must let me see yon home.” As she wade no opposition he walked | by her side, stealing many aside glance “* You + Promise me,” he continued, after a minute, “that yon will not go out nutil they are gone. | don’t like to think of it. They are an awfully rengh lot” “They won't interfere with me. am not afraid,” she said, laughing. “But I am. Pray don't think me in. I " protected girl in these 1 mely lanes, Cecile was silent and half embar- rassed for a few minutes, but soon re- { hey were both surprised when they found themselves at the gate; the time “Qh, here we are at home!” said | Cecile, blushing directly after for the | dismayed tone of her words. ing his hand. ! ful walk to me at least. May it soon be i He held her small gloved fingers lingeringly, and when her shy look met that made her hastily withdraw and run fused with color. She went straight upstairs and bad | with her handkerchief to her eyes. “ What is if, anntie?”’ and Ceciln hastened to her sides in some apprehen- | “ Oh, not—not —bad news irom | # Oh, dear, no!” Miss Tilt hurriedly ** Nothing bad has hap- Iam only a little agitated. “ Oh, aunt, I am very glad, and not I thought it would be | I came.” “Did you, dear?’ Her aunt bestowed on her a surprised posite, “There is nothing the matter perfectly well,” she protested, adding, as though the words were forced from her by his searching eyes. 1 am only a little surprised at some news l have had.” “Nothing bad, I hope?” ““No—-oh, no. It is only that my annt is engaged to be married to Mr, Murchison." Cecile had no sooner said this than an uneasy conviction came aoross her that she ought not to have spoken out $0 frankly. She had ree ved no per mission to make the affair public. ** Perhaps I ought not to have men tioned it,” said, hastily. * You won't say anything about it just yet, she Looking at him fully for the first time, she was startled to see that he “Oh! I am so sorry!” she exclaimed, struck with dismay, as she remembered his frequent visits to her aunt's house, “It was very thoughtless of me to tell | you that I” “Why? what do yon looked down with an amused smile at her troubled face, reading it with the greatest ease, * Don't get it into your head that this piece of mformation af another, 1f any thing, it is rather welcome." “ I'hen you are ill ¥ “No, Miss Redding, The truth is 1 nearly ran over you just now, which made me feel aw fully queer, an ineide mean ¥' He fects we one way or ponghn 3 nt ns “ Doctors 12 ought to have stronger Cecile remarked, lightly. “Pout!” he said, quickly. “It like you, Cecile! 1t is the greatest \ nm home 0 if i! Don't g 4% not fatally, injare: r heaven's saka! “1 will say good-afternoon now, as I to Su ality! Cecile ex and 1 . y ANXIOUS to gel away her hand me should mak hemselves visible; He took her hand, but not in farewell her £8 to be ont of a pas<lug vehicle, A mmnute longer! Have 08 young go!” she entreated, hdraw her fingers from the in which they were held. y letter will ba too late I” ‘The box will not be hour. Yon sl jet me 3 wat 1Sp ¥ as for AN- 4 he : t bes } tiriby “1 will a y welfare ite it to a fatherly in- , sald Cecile, with “I know you too well to resent anything you may hoose to say.” * Do 1, then, seem so very old?” {hus appealed to she gave a i % ii - 11 - » tall, well-proportio dark, earnest face 5 and “ Ceotle, am I too ¢'1 ¢ al ght « never thoaght « for you? 1 1! I can see { my asking f !—while 14 18 I~ i He stopped, and silence fell between | Could anything be more dis- Sutton Parry felt “Your face answers me, child!” he | I love you I would do anything on earth ~endure anything for your sake! Give “gE iward ! know his name was Edward ?” diffidence. to speak of him eo familiarly.” * Pray —pray say no more!” Cecile “The more you say the I wish 1 had I conld not—1I wish closed them again without speaking, | while the blood rushed to her face and | She looked pale and distressed, and tood before him like a culprit, steal 1800, 118 ex- at wy accepting a man £0 much younger | in feelings than in years; and he looks » “Yes,” she answered slowly, and | placing her arm abont her aunt's thin | fignre, she gave her a loving kiss. “I hope you will be happy,” she whispered; then moving toward the door, she added, “I remember that my | letter is vot posted. I'll just run and | take it myself.” She walked down the road with her ates before she could eollect her | thoughts, When they assamed definite | shape Cecile knew that she had been | ver; near falling in love with Ted | Murchison. So near that just now she felt as though she had lost something | ont of her life, and as though she would give a great deal to be at home, | A dangerous and infectious disease | having appeared in her family was the | reason of Cecile's exile, which had now been of two months’ duration. During | those two months she hud been thrown | much into contact with Ted Murchison, | and Mr. Parry the doctor, it being the | latter of these to whom her thoughts | had flown when her aunt announced | her engagement. “ Aunt has a nice income of her own, | and I bave none,” she cou!d not avoid | thinking, though despising herself for | the base suspicion. ** But he has always | sought me out, and oh | how could he— how dare he—talk to me as he has done, and look at me like that! How stupid I have been not to see through him!” She walked straight past the post- office unconsciously, and hurried on with the letter in her hand; but soon recollecting herself, she turned sharply | and crossed the road. Too preoceupied to notice the sound of wheels behind, this unexpected movement of Cecile’s very nearly re- sulted in an accident. Bhe was awak- ened from her reverie by a lond ex- clamation, and looked round quick.y to see a horse pulled back on its haunches, its Lead having almost touched her shonlder. The next minnie some one had leaped down, and Cecile found herself confronted by the dcetor. She kept her face averted slightly, lest it should betray the mortification she was feel- ing, and spoke carelessly : “1 ghall have you taken up for furions driving, Dr. Parry. Your man was going to run over me, it seems,” “Jt was a narrow escape,” he said, briefly, and waved his hand to the groom to drive on. After a pause, he continued: “I look upon myself as your medical man, Miss Redding, since I attended you when you first came down. That is my only excuse for re- marking on your appearance. What is the matter with you?” “If anything you ought to tell,” said Cecile, laughing. Miss Tilt, blushing. ¢¢ Perhaps I can if you describe your feelings,” said Parry. and her | There was silence for a space; to see " “Don't do that!” he said, quickly. | “ Don't grieve ; it can’t be helped. have known. You are quite never will care for me, A decided shake of the head was the | only answer, and he took her hand to quietly: * Good-bye, then, ever think differently promise me that | you will be honest enough to let me Don’t let false modesty part us, Cecile, for I shall never change.” Cecile went home in a very dissatis- | fied frame of mind. For the ensuing! days Sutton Party cceupied a far | greater portion of her thoughts than | Murchison; not even in her sleep could | she shake herself free from the intense | look that bad seemed to read her very soul when she stood before him. “I wigh 1 had asked him to give me a week to think it over,” said to herself sometimes, A fortnight slipped away, and she never saw him except at a distance, and then ore morn came the news that he was very ill with low fever. Cecile had been looking hollow-eved and anxious lately—a fact of which Ted | Murchison was perfectly aware, and the credit or blame of whish he took to himself with secret satisfaction. Miss Tilt's honsemaid, being engaged to the doctor's groom, was constantly gnpplied with information as to hiscon- dition, and from her (“eile heard such accounts as made her very nneasy. The doctor was, in fact, seriously ill. A neglected cold and general careless ness with regard to his own health, in | combination with mental trouble, had | compelled him to give in and take to his | bed. He forbade his housekeeper to | call in other medical aid, and prescribed | for himself without much beneficial re- | sult, And now the belief was growing on him that he should not recover. He had given orders at last for the practi- tioner of a neighboring village to be called in, and awaited his arrival, tco weak and helpless to shakes off the morbid feelings that oppressed him. As he lay thus his door-lateh clicked, but he did not turn to see who entered. A light foot came softly to his side, and there stood Cecile in a dainty white apron, with a plate of jelly in her hand. *1 have come to practice nursing,” she said, with a little shake in her voice. * May I?” “Cecile! Yon can’t mean—" She set down the plate and kneeled by his side to shyly slip her soft arm under his head and draw it on to her breast. “ Forgive me,” she whispered, with a vivid blueh, “I did not understand my- But if you shonld | she ing i ® * N ® . She was returning home toward even ing having promised to go again on the sucoeeding day when "ed Murchison overtook her. They shook hands cordially enoug! for Cecile had used every effort to ap. pear no different to him lest he might attribute any change to pique “How are you? he asked, with sort of tender interest in his “You have not looking lately” “1 am very well, th said, coldly, offended by “Have I vexed you in any way, Cecile? Do you know I have been half afraid that you disapproved of my engagement to your aunt? “By no means. 1 think you are | very fortunate in having won her con I suppose I may as well tell you, Mr. Murchison, I am engaged to Dr. Parry.” ————————— HEALTH HINTS, “ tones been woll ank von," she | his manner. sent too When cooking you often burn your fingers or arms, and there is not time to turn to tie them up. Take a piece of hurd soap, and dipping it in water rub it over the spot Continue to do this two or three times until the sur is thoroughly covered It will be fourd to afford a great relief, Or you may diy your burned hand in the soft-soap buck et and holl it there a few minut wd you will experience the same relief A writer in the Nineteenth Cent says that contagion consists of minute solid particles and not gaseous dissemi nations. If this is troe we can readily understand that a person who breathes only through the nose will be much less likely to eaten a a sick roo than would a mo ar. Freo entilation, Pe riect ness and fre juent changes of ol afford the best means of removing ¢ ntagic ns particle A by sick 5. D Foote Month Hoe WW, Al faire 1 contagious person It is Walk or break! which i} a great mistake th other form of healthfa ¥ #8 morning oo exercise before ant r i sum and 13 i; the malaria ests on the earth about ner, when into which are equally debi Fr poriions of the b ly KO i% Yer, upper, 1 ver sunrise taken the lungs stomach, § st sines ng and enters the oi two, poison id laving the founda while in win condition of an ne ar or ronblesome diseases * the debilitated these vital organs readily allows the blood to be chilled, and thus renders th ile of ty anflen same i tar Wt # ’ seyl oi epnal jad and too & system suse with all its w trous results, Some of the best medical mind the world have spent a quar- ter of a century in examining the lunes | of the dead, state to us this important, every-day that after forty, who have not in t 8 11 men who fact, he Iu of having the econsumpti without ever having had the slig i 1 of the of the and who fi 1 of maladies having no approxi toward patare. Theses the signs htost suspicion existence dis ease, died i ard it in ara roars of all very small it is true, ing ¢ great fact existed there and that the lungs perfectly heal after having been divid er broken or pierced, NUmMerous casas bear witness in the perfect recov. ery of men who have been stabbed in the breast or shot throngh the lungs. ha at as TS The Fortune of the Barings. The Barings have been among the There is a kind of ecclesiastical flavor about them, Their English founder was 8 Bremen pastor, settled in this country, His gravdson ma'ried the niece of wm English archbighop, One of his de. | scendants became bishop of Durham, The money was originally made in the rich profitable clothing business in the west of Ergland. Asbburion pave a title in the peerage to the chief of the house © f Baring. It has been a rule in the house that when any one of them has got =a title he goes ont of the business, Bir Francis Bar. the first great banker, who, dying in 1810, left a fortune of 82,000,- 000, and had three Thomas Thomas ceeding to the baronetey, gave up the Henry had a rather romantic RODS ~ BUC business, gambling table. He was the amazement of beholders when he wonld sit down at a gambling table at the Palais Royal--be. —with piles of gold and notes belore The reputation of a successfnl gambler was barely suited to the intense known sustained as and | He | to Ameoriea, and the richest banker in England married the danghter richest citizen ef the United Alexander Baring, often “ Alexander the Great,” possesses a historical importance, After | the conclusion of the great European war he paid down a sum of £1,100,000, by which France was freed from the oe- cupation of Russian, Austrian and Ger. man armies. “There are six great pow- ers in Europe,” sard the Due de Riche: lien: ** England, France, Russia, Ans- tria, Prussia and Baring Bros,” In 1835 | he was made Lord Ashburton. Two of | his sons held the title, and each succes. | gively retired from the business, The | head of the firm, Thomas Baring, be. | came chapcellor of the exchequer in Lerd Melbourne's mi. stry, and another member, Lord Northbrook, has been governor-general of India— Lon- | don Society, Sawdust, In New York there are about five | hundred venders of sawdust, having a | capital of two hundred thousand dol. | lars invested, and doing a business | amounting to two hundred thoasand dollars annually. Forty years ago the | mills were glad to have the sawdust | carried away; twenty-five years ago it could be bought at fifty cents a load, | but the price has been increased until | now it brings three dollars and a half a | load at the mills. It is used at the | hotels, eating-houses, groceries and | other business houses. It is wet and | spread upon floors in order to make the | sweeping cleaner. Plumbers nse a great deal about pipes, and builders to | deaden walls and floors. Boda water men and packers of glass and small ar ticles of every kind use it, and dolls and some living creatures are more or less stuffed with it. Washington Market takes two or three loads a day, a great deal is spread on the piers, and stables take many loads a day. Yellow | pine makes the best sawdust, as it is | the least dusty, and has a good, healthy smell, But any white wood dust will do. They make a great deal of black- walnut sawdust, but it will not sell, so it is burned. I Ws sass. The new London journal for women is called the Fan. Englishmen have funny ideas about naming papers for women to read. A fan can be ehut up. self.” FHE LAND OF THE RISING SUN, tGiarden of Eden-The at Home, Simple as in the Japanese A Yeddo (Japanese) correspondent writes: “The Laud of the Rising Bun" has been visited by many foreigners during the past fifteen years, and no one has vet been disappointed in what he has found either in the people or the conntry, Many have an idea that the Japa. nese and Chinese are much alike, but | they are totally different in their chars ter and habits of life. The Chinese are a filthy, cunning race, who look upon | the foreigner with suspicion as an infe rior beir g. The Japanese are the clean- liest and most polite in the world, The poorest coolite has his hot bath every day, and if they have not too much godliness they thoroughly practice the next virtue My first trip into the interior, after being a year in the country, was to the | hot springs of lkav-—the Baratoga of Japan, 1 bad previously engaged | rooms at the best hotel. The first day there 1 formed some pleasant acquaint. ances with a newly-married couple, who oecapied the adjoining room, the wife of a former governor of Yeddo, o Tokio (cne of the handsomest women | ever saw in spy country), snd many | others ; for they are very glad to know aud converse with foreigners who speak | 1 of +} a lta of thelr IANgUaAge. Japanese wives do not go into society, but devote themselves entirely to the happiness of their husbands at home. | to know more than enough to reckon on their machines called sarabans, and to | be abla to read the novels and daily | pews wonld be to make them proud and nngoven able in the opinions of their lords and masters, If a huosband be dissatisfied with his wife, to send her folks simply constitiites | divorce. Until their das are woman is restored to her | society, these people ORL § COmes her back & a legal changed an i trae place in to such progress and posi never attain tion as they desire, They have no idea of profane or fiithy language. a fool simply, r a beast, is the greatest length to hey have no re io Call one which they can go. gard for the truth, often on aco their extreme p , for the same a that a large part of onr most re fined ly lieate flat tery, and often the one whooan dissem ble the most adroitly is considered the Y ~0 it unt of liteness red se coosists of de BOC most genteel lady or gentleman, is to a greater extent with the Japanese, if Yo ther be thinks it will rain to-morrow, and he believes that you are { weather, ] ‘ that it will be © weather, point out half a dozen jufal- prove the correctness of his opinion. If yon are in a hurry, and wk the time, he will tell yon that it is earlier than ic really is | rather than canse you any worry or hapg ines, even if it may be the means i for another | aracler is never to an- { Instead of FAY ! do: ** Never put off till to-mos w,” « they have a maxim, There always a to-morrow.” So they never a fret and ure, this respect them some Ww lie ie fine he is sure fin y and be oan thle signs ie wi an hour or two un. of cr. 8 I you great ipjary, trait of their oh ticipate the future, ns wo ‘ f “ In of hurry for the ful Americas profitable lessons, or if they and we could strike the * golden mean” both would be benefited. They have another | happy faculty, too, of smoothing over | he sorrows «nd misfortunes of the past, They expel all such nnhappiness by the simple expression ** skataganai,” whieh | literally translated means, “this is past; I am for but it cannot be | helped,” and this banishes it entirely. A voung student came to me one morn- ing and told me that his father died the day before. 1 began sympathizing | with him, bat he stopped me with the | remark, uSkataganal; he was very old.' They bave the greatest regard for the | At a funeral 1 never | saw a tear shed. They bave no fear of | They believe in the transmi gration of souls. They cannot conceive | how missionaries to them from | their homes thousands of miles away just on account of the love for their | souls; so they look upon missionary | work with suspicion. It is only the | lowest class who become converted, and then only when they are poor and need | food and clothing. Almost no progress | has been made toward Christiasizing | the Japanese, They pray to Buddha whom they believe to be the God spirit. There are images in their temples, which we | eall idols, but they do not pray to the | idols nor believe them to be divine, any more than we do the beantifully painted windows in our churches. | Every day when they go to bed and | when they rise they bow thei: heads in | silent prayer to the Bupreme Ruler ot | n learn La BOTS it, old and YOUunw. death. come Heaven, Without doubt, before foreigners in- troduced Western ideas snd eustoms, they were the bappiest people on the | face of the earth. They had faw wants, which were easily supplied, their coun. | try being well cultivated and the eli mate never rigorous, except in the far north, where the Emos live, who are quite a different people. The empire of Japan consists of five large islands avd many smaller ones, There are 40,000,000 inhabitants, most called Nippon, which is the Japanese word both for Japan and Japanese. There is no more picturesque scenery in the world (always excepting the !Yo- bold coas's and all through the moun- tainous interior, where the roads are are upon the backs of or cows, or in a bssket borne upon the shoulders of two coolies, one In this manuver and frequently shoulders, they morning till sunset for four or five cents each mile, Tujijama, the sacred mountain of pire the the most majestic mountain in d. It rises a solitary trancated m the very shores of the Pacific ered with snow throughout the year ex cept during July and Augnst In the monutains of the interior are many natural hot mineral springs, which are much frequented by the na tives during the hot summer months, The principal productions are rice, tea and silk. The Japanese produce a mild distilled lignor from rice which they call sake. Everybody drinks this sake with their daily rice, and socially when they meet fur pleasure, It is, however, a very rare sight to see a native intoxicated. When he has taker too much he is never quarrel- some, but very merry and simple, and only wishes to get home, where he can sleep off the effects. It is considered a sign of great weakness to get thus af fected, Opium is never used by the Japanese, the authorities having always taken great care to prevent its importa- tion and use. A Japanese house has no chairs, beds or tables. One's boots or wooden clogs are removed at the door and water brought for washing the feet — Chicago Tribune. before entering upon the soft, thick table, beds and seats, When friends meet they never shake hands, but bow, or if in the street, they bow very low several times before passing, each time repeating some formal salutations, Many of their expressions are very beautiful, and show the extreme and delicate politeness of the people; for example, when they part the expression is “Savonara,” which means, * If it must be." ———— The Chinese at H E. B. Drew, commissioner of Chinese imperial maritime customs, in a recent lecture in New York, on the * Chinese at Home" said: The chief characteristic ot the Chinese as a nation, is industry, Their working day begins at dawn and lasts till sunset, Schools open at sun. rise and do not close tilib pr um, there being bat one short recess daring the day. The emperor and his court rise soon after midnight, and court audi. ences are given between § and 8 o'clock in the morning. This same industry is exhibited by all classes. After sunset ome, retiring early to rest, There is no day corre. sponding to Sunday, and only a few holi- days daring the year, Busily as they are never nervous, and are not given to sober. They rarely quarrel, and even if they do, seldom come to blows, there will be a little guene pulling, some calling of hard names, and the bystanders will quietly separate the combatants It is not physical timidity, but a sensitive consciousness of the dis grace of fighting that keeps them from engaging in brawls. That they are not cowards is well proven by the fact thal they submit without flinching to the most severe surgical operations without They maintain that it is very injurious to the health to be nervous, to worry, or to give way As a people the Chinese do not desire a voice in the government, The com. are not ouly, through ignorance, indif- ferent to beneficial reforms, but they oppose them strongly if they are apt to increase the taxes. The government of China is not nearly so aristocratic as foreiguers are accustomed to think it is, but when the popular voice aroused it is sure to have great force ¥ Case where there is 8 conflict between the mavdarin or governor cf a district, and the Pe ople, if the people are patient and commit no asts 18 Oonoee or i# removed by the government, The people have the profoundest re spect for precedent, and are in fact constitutionally conservative. Althougl ments sud materials known to them | they use foreign watches, nes dles, kero sone, sulphur matehes, cotton fabries, They Aare, as a people € xoessively polite, and their ceremonial of social intercourse is to foreigners painfally claborate., It is an error to suppose, however, that they are a cringing race; they assert their rights vigorously enough when occasion calls, They are not a truth-telling people, The ¥ Rive false evidence in trials, fur nish false statistics; and even officials present reports that are tissues of false. hood. It is impossible to shame them exposing their unirathfuniness They are not addicted to thieving, how- There is much ssid about the gross immorality of this people. In China at least, if it exists, it is not There are societies for the suppression of immoral books. The sored writings contain not one indecent word and their paintiog and sculpture are perfectly pure. Vulgar language ta, All Chinamen dgink some wine, a native beverage made of rice, but drunkenness are none of the evils of intemperance there so common here—wife beating, of sll Kinds. The habit that curses the nation, opium smoking, enervates the physical, men. tal aud moral nature but does not lead | A Natural Ant Trap. Mr. J. Harris Stone describes in Na- ure how he found in Norway one of the Last Leerdal Valley, Norway, where he ob. served on the almost precipitous sides The plants were grow- } Juxuriantly some one thousand feet above the bed of the river, and were showing a gorgeous array of blos. somes, On plucking some of the flowers stickness aronud the stems, in some the he On powerful enough to support weight of the stem when inverted and opened his hand. finding on quite ninety-five per of ant or individuals in all stages of dying. Some flowering stems had only one dead or dying aunt upon ench; others had two; other had three; while others had as many as seven or eight Some ants, bad as it were, sim- ply laid down in the gintinouns matter and suconmbed without further strug- gling. The heads of others, firmly im- | bedded in the treacherons gum, with the rest of the body stiffened and suspended in mid-air, testified to violent and prolonged resistance, Some ants again had the body, arched up, as if to avoid centact with the stem, and the legs were only fatally caught. The gluti- nous or sticky tracks lay around the stem directly beneath the holes, and were about half an ineh or more in depth. A Caution, In these days of vaccination, says an exchange, when points are in general demand, it will not be amiss to remem- ber the following: Don't piek your nose with the finger that has shortly before come in contact with vaccine matter, A | man in a neighboring village acted contrary to this rule, and, as a result, | the matter took kindly to his nose, made the acquaintance of the membranes, | spread all through his head, and he is | now just able to leave his bed after a | confinement of more than two weeks. | A Glens Falls lady scratehed the bite of | an insect on her foot with the fingers | that had been toying with her vaccin ated arm. The following day her foot swelled, and shortly exceeded by an overwhelming majority the size of the traditional Albany girl's feet. She was crippled for a month, and pined away over the heartrending prospect of wear- ing a No. 11 shoe for the remainder of her days, but finglly recovered. These be practical points on vaccine points, and will bear the caution they point out. They have found a king who reigned in Egypt more than a century before | Abraham. He's dead, He's a mummy. | He's not a pretty mummy now; but pretty mum he is, now. Norristown | POPPING THE QUESTION. A Serious Matter (ousidered Comically. none that demands a greater exertion of self-voutidence than a proposal of * From the big, brawny. handed son of the soil to the most ef. feminate specimen of the genus known as the society man, the masculine lips ars sure to tremble when they come to frame that simple but most important of ull questions: * Will you be my wife? Men who will face the cavnon’s mouth with coolness, calmly start on of the world, or undergo privations of the most painful character, will shrink ble before a weak, delicate woman, when they are going to request her to become a partner for life. And though we cannot give the uninitiated any valnable advies or information on this topic, a resume of sowe of the many drolleries connected with it will probably be interesting, both to the as those who want to be, Let us suppose that the lady has a party. The gentleman might say that she looks fatigued. On her re he will get an opportunity of saying, “* Not fo lish, Emily ; I feel too much interest in you to permit my own wishes to ran counter to your welfare.” This is properly called the magnificent style of beginping. But very often the assist her bashful lover. For instance, there was once a timid fellow who was fond of borrowing John Phanix's jokes; whan she asked him how he felt, he avenged himself according "to the Phoenix plan of being very definite, cent.” “Indeed,” she said, with a de- mure look, ‘*are you never going to par evening. ing, as he scratched a lucifer on the to strike a match, you know.” * Js that so?’ she asked, demurely; “I wish I lived in a house with sanded paint,” and then she locked unutter- able. If he had asked; ** What for!” she would have hated him. But he didn't, He took match was struck then and there. been put poetically in this way : Young Fred, a bashful, vet persistent swain, ‘as very much in love with Mary Jane, w 1 i th M J One night she told him in her ten deres! tone, “it is not good for man to be alone,’ Said Fred, “Just so, you darling little if ; Pye often thought of that same thing myself,” hen said the lass, while Fred was all agog, * You ought to buy yourself a terrier dog” posal is occasionally met with. A Cali- fornia paper, some months since, told the story of a scene that occurred in Alameda county. A respectable old gentleman of fifty accidentally met a lady five years his junior. They had frequently heard of cach other through mutual friends, but had never met face to face. The following conversation took piace: Gentleman—Madam, name ? Lady—My name is — Gentleman—My pame what is your is 1 Ahem! hushand ? Lady—Well, really now, I don't know. I've heard your name, Mr, —, but how would you like me for a wife? Gentleman- Madam, the sight of yon heard. Will yon be my wife? The lady assented. The gentleman went immediately to Oakiand to get a license, and twenty-four hours after the first meeting the couple were man and wife and started for the new husband's ranch at Livermore, Every now and then we read of mar. Here is a wue case of & proposal of marriage being made in the same way. Miss Maria Roop was married in Boston under the following circumstances : Captain Roop, a distant relative, who sailed an Engiish ship, visited Mr. John Roop’s, in St. John, New Brunswick, on his way to Peterboro, Nova Scotia, and met his fate in the person of the young lady who finally became his wife, He re. turned to New Yurk and began to load for Java. He wrote to her and pro next week, marry him and sail for Java. was on tne sea, or loading at the wharf, and she must decide at once. The let. ter was received in the morning and had not been read more than half a dozen was received to the following el- fect : “Please answer my letter by telegraph—yes or no.” Any girl can promptly say yes or no to the offer of a band and heart, bul where such offer is coupled with three days’ notice and a vovage to the East Indies, the case requires a lit'le more considera tion. She took time to consider, and added strength to the saying that the woman who considers is lost, for, when the afternoon of the same day brought hor another dispateh, which was sim- ply “ Yes or no?" she went to the tel- opraph office and wrote “yes” on a blank. The operator, knowing noth » man in New York was soon made happy by its reception. The lady left her home at once; was married in Boston, and started on her wedding tour around the world. Then there is the urgent proposal where the man loses all sense of em. his suit, A young the park one summer evening, engaged in deep and pleasant converse, “ Oh, do be mine,” he said, attempt- ing to draw her a little nearer his end of the seat. She made herself rigid and heaved a sigh. “I'll be a good man and give up all No reply. “ I'll never drink another drop,” he Still unrelenting sat the object of his adoration. “ And give up chewing.” No response. “And smoking." Cold as ever, “ And join the church." She only shook her head. “And give you a diamond engage- ment ring,” he added in desperation, Then the maiden lifted her drooping eyes tu his, and leaning her frizzes on his shoulder, tremblingly murmured into his ravished ear: “Oh, Edward, you are too, too good.” And there they sat, until the soft arms of night—that dusky nurse of the world—had folded them from sight, pondering, planning, thinking, she of the diamond ring and he of how on earth he was to getit.— Brooklyn Eagle" NESS, | The Trade In Skulls and Skeletons-The Demund for Both Tucreasiog, and Prices Advancing. # Of the secondary industries of this city (says a New York paper) the trade in skeletons and skulls take u high rank, not so much on account of the extent of the business, but because, like the trade in mathematical instruments, it assists the educational and scientific wants of the present age” said a well known physician sttached to Bellevne hospital to the writer the | other day, For some years past the business has fa «© off, but new life has been in. | stillew into it, and the dealers are doing a thriving business, | A well known desler in Chatham | street, when applied to for information, | said the demand for skulls and skele- tons for some reasons had lsrgely in- | creased, more especially with the coun- try trade, The cali is for the best to be found in the market, and the priee is now a secondary consideration with the buyers, A few years ago a count physician used to be satisfied with al- most anything that was in the shape of & skeleton, some of which they even ‘used to fix np themselves while attend- | ing the medical colleges, This is not the case now, however, Some of them are more than the regular city Siotfat are more liberal in the price demanded, | With the man of moderate means a | simple skull or & few bones of different variety would answer his purpose, whereas the true medical student of the present age considers himself of little account anless he ean exhibit a fine and complete form in his surgery, and by some it is considered almost as valuable | as the diplomus of their college. Strange as it muy appear, there sre many per- sons who study anatomy only for the — a — | pleasure of it, who invest in a whole | skeleton or a skull to hang up in their studies. “ Why, to-day we think nothing of {time ; while a year or two sgo we scarcely had one a month. This was on scoount of hard times; not that the student or physician did not require or | wish for them. The skeleton business | has largely developed throughout the country of late, and, owing to the de- ‘mand, prices have goue up instead of decreasing.” “Are many skeletons prepared in | this coantry ¥"* “*Not to any great extent; but the business has been enlarged, as it is a | profitable one if a person only under- | stands it. We are the consumers, and are to a great extent in the hands of | those who import them They mostly come from Paris and London, where ' the anstomieal art is best studied. {| *“*Bo far the Americans have not been {able to compete with the exporters, although they are improving in the | manger of preparing them. There is | but one man in this eity who thor- | oughly understands the business of pre- paring those skeletons, and he is a Frenchman, who has been in the busi- { neas a pumber of years across the At | lantie. He knows, however, the value | of his work, and by the time he has | completed his work the skeleton costs | almost as much as if it were imported i direct, and a finer specimen might be |obtained. It is conceded that the | French anatomists are far superior to | any others in preparing these skeletons, “The English come ‘next. A few specimens are sent irom Norway, but | for the most part they ara coarse, and { badly prepared, and are sold for a small | amount compared with the other im- | portations.” “ How long has this business been in- trodnoed in thisconnlry “ About twenty-five years. At that sidered quite a rarity, and the price asked for it woald be more than double asked now for the best specimen im- sorted. Some twenty years ago a num- pos of dealers in this city, who dealt m- stly in surgical instruments, saw an | opportunity for making money by ex- porting skeletons and skulls, and went into the business as a speculation. To- day there are about eighteen of these men in the business who supply the wants, in and out of the city, of the medical men and stndente, “The great secret in the business isto i set the bones properly bleached, a se- { cret they have only partly I i | this co antry. { and therefore to a great extent can con- { {rol the market price.” * What does it cost for a good skele- { ton or skull ¥ “Much depends on the size and { color. You can buy skeletons for $45 i apices, and a good one for $80 and {2100. Three years ago you could have | bought the same for $35 and $50, and to the cost of the skulls? Well, yon | can buy them now from $13 to $40, the | price being regulated by the number of For instance, you can order a good pair of heavy thigh “Is there much difficulty in procur- ing bodies for skeleton purposes ™ “The material is scarcer in London and Paris than in this country, and they cost more on that account. “A fine field is open in this country for good operators, as the ‘stiffs’ can be obtained at the different hospitals for little or nothing, setting as de those sent to the colleges for dissestion pur- poses. A large portion of young and middle aged criminals are given up by the aathorities for one purpose or the other, and the best specimens in form are always picked out. For some rea- son the skeleton of a man is of more value than that of a woman, aud is more frequently asked for, At one time the skeleton of a well formed Indian was of more value than that of a civilized per- son, from the fact that it would be more developed. The chief art connected with the business lies in the bleaching of the bones, Various attempts have been made by some of the most practi cal and scientific of this country to dis cover the exact French and English process of whitening the bones, but so far the attempts have not been successs ful. In many of the medical college- and institutions artificial models are introduced, but they are not appreciated as the genuine skeletons or skulls, They aot as a means of inciting the study of anatomy, and as soon as student becomes really interested in his study and investigation, then noth- ing will do but the genmine subjects. This study is daily increasing, and hundreds of years may pass away before the regular scientific men will have ex- hausted the possibilities of discovery in the mechanism of the human frame, and until such time the trade in skulls and skeletons will continue to increase.” “Second class in grammar stand up,” said the schoolmaster Yo Jobn isa bad boy.” “What does John correspon: ith ?” «J know,” said the little hoy at the foot of the class, holding up his hand. “John Smithers, he corre- sponds with my sister Sasan. Here's » her. hit 5 i EEESSESTEE 2<f i tives in their raids upon tribes, them 3 nl. - Suite 4 ones have learned by experience that white men will not kill thom, and conse- quently when they appea: in the market theyareim assailed by piteous cries: **Oibo ramil” *‘Cibo rami!” mau, bay me! white man, buy me And they buy them to the extent their limited finances. The mission aries usually pick out boys and girls of about six to eight years of age, take in ther tl Be Og co t ht arsdld = marry. Some 3 shown to Gazette man of these i barians were inexpressibly funny. Joung gentleman in a very sear ng Rh ga ingly ; to be fully impressed with the imp ing dignity of his newly donned cos- tume. Hundreds of these children bought by he Quiholie = Very yoar. them couries or Ror Bo guns an glass. The uctustes from value of $5 up to $15. Wet and Dry Thunderstorms, A correspondent of the London writing from Transvaal, South | says: Evory afterneon storms of thunder aad upon us. These were of two the wet and the dry: The first less, though noisy; the second « ingly dangerous, During thedry derstorms, which were g toward the end of October, ning seemed qui The angry simultaneously thunder, which Dy
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers