Opportanity. In harvest time, when field4 and weods Outdazzle suneet's glow, § And seythes clang music through the land, It is too late to sow, Too late | $00 late ! It is too late to sow, In wintry days, when weary earth Lies cold in pulsoless sleep, With not a blossom on her shroud, It is $00 late tO reap. Too late! too late! Tt is too late to reap, When blue-eyed violets are aati, And new-born grasses oreep, And young birds chirp, then sow betimes, And thou betimes shalt reap. Then sow | then sow | And thou betimes shalt reap. “Strike While the Iron's Hot,” Sirike while the iron’s hot ! Strike—-and with a will; He is no skillful smith Who leta the iron ohill, Ere the iron hardens, strike, Shape it to what shape you like, To the scythe, or knife, or sword, To slay, or heal, or mow the swand, Strike while the ivon's hot, Strike with hand and beart; Quickly turn the bar, And smile on every part. Bring the sledge down with a swing Till it makes the anvil ring. So great master workmen wrought, Bo struck the iron while twas hot So, when the time is ripe To act, or The precious moment seize + % " think, or say, Before it pass away, Shape the action to your ends, As the smith the {ron bends: Lot the word and let the thonght Promptly into deed be wrought, Strike while the iron's hot, Or do not strike at all; Strokes the cold bar will break % . it fashion, when they fail, If you're slow in arm and brain, All your labor will be in The quick of head and qu May rise from serving to « —Sunday Magazine, An Unexpected Disclosure. She had been christened, it appeared, Margaretta Caroline Livingstone; but all this magnificence of nomenclature had contracted itself into the least pos- sible of diminutives—“Et." This Et was a girl who came to board at Mrs. Gordon's when Vincent and week. She arrived one rainy Monday, with half a dozen trunks, an invalid aunt whose acquaintance I made almost im- mediately, after my usual fashion with all and sundry of his lovable race and species, It was, in fact, through his friendly mediation that [ beeame so soon on friendly terms with his little mistress When she saw him so ready to lay his paws on my lap and nestle his great head sgainst my shoulder, she seemed to think that no other introduction Was mecessary. “ Love me—love my dog.” it would, I think, have been almost impossible not to comply with the terms of this There was something pitifully sug- gostive of the need of human love and companionship in the clinging fondness turn, repaid her with a loyal worship that wou!d shame the depth and breadth of most human devotion. In one aitribute, however, his love parionk largely of human weakness— e was rather jealous of his pretty mistress. Bat this fact I did not dis- cover until there arrived upon the scere a handsome, indolent young man one sunny morning, and bowed him- self lazily into our midst, Miss Livingstone—Aunt Nettie, as they both ecallel her—received him with a curious darkening of her brows, but with quite a pleasant audible greet- ing, and Et's blush was lovely to look at as his hand closed over hers, Hugo, | noticed, retreated instantly to the further end of the veranda, and seemed trying to politely repress invol. untary srowls, Et haste” Pyne, ™ Gale to present him, * Yes,“ and sinking in a fatigued man- per on the nearest chsir, that I quite wondered he had taken the all taken theaunt out riding to Shelterville, Etiound occasion to give me a little overflow of confidence. gether of pleasurable emotion, although I could see quite a happy light deep down in her innocent hazel eyes, and picturesque as a girl conld wish to look who evidently had given some thought to the subject. . * Your cousin has come to stay some time, I suppose?” I remarked, by way of opening the ball. We were walking up and down the pretty, quiet country road, over which the shadows of tho elms and maples were lying in great cool patches, Hugo blinking at us sleepily from the gate- way as we paced to and fro, “1 think he will stay— a while. It is his vacation now. Of coarse, I had written him a good deal about the place, and how much we were pleased with it, but I did not suppose he would come 80 soon and so unexpectedly. in that regard,” I said, smiling. “ How do you know?’ she asked, quickly, with a simplicity that was re- freshing, her face blushing like a wild rose. **Dol show my— Do I seem to be interested in Roger? We have been together all our lives. He is like a brother to me. And, and— Don't lungh, Nora.” We had known each other not quite three weeks at this time, but, with the freemasonry of girly, had pretty well for a frank comradeship, “1 ask becanze I want to know. Aunt Nettie wonld not have him here an hour if she thought—if she sup- posed—" “{ was only joking, Et!” for her fluttered, anxions manner made me quite repent my innocent remark. “I merely thought it not very likely any girl conld be indifferent to the booa of Mr: Braicle’s society.” “Oh, but I’m not |” she assured me, very much relieved, and very much in earnest. * Of course I’m not indiffer- ent. Far from it! There was quite an affair between Roger and me, and—he—well, he wanted to marry me, Nora. Oh, yes, he was quite wild about me at one time, and Aunt Nettie was raging. She wants to leave me her money, but she thinks Roger is careless and a spendthrift, He isn’t at all, but his father was, and so she wants me to promise I will never marry Roger. How can I dothat, Nora? I can’'t—it’s impos-ible. Bat here, you see, Aunt Nettie never stops about it, She will leave me everything if I will only give her my promise; and if not, she will make her will in favor of strangers, I am her nearest relative, you know.” «If she should die suddenly, every- thing would come to you, of course, legally ?” “Qf course; but she will live a long time yet, She bas been like this—no i { VOLUME XV. 00., NUMBER 18. worse, no better—since I was ten years old, Ah, Nora, it has not been all play for me Itell you! I've had many and many asad hour, We just board here aod there without any settled home, and I've never had society nor amuse- ment like other girls, You see for yourself how it is, but my life has been very pleasant since I've been here"- with a gratefnl sqaeess of my arm, “1 have had you, snd we'll always be friends, won't we, Nora? And yon must watch and tell me if you think there is anything noticeable between as— Roger und me, I mean” “Qh, then the ‘affair’ is not ended, it would seem, Ho still wishes to marry you “N--no--not so much of late. At least, he never asks me, but I am sure he loves me just the same.” “ How can you be sure, Et? “Oh, in a thousand ways. He comes whenever he can, and he writes to me, and—and--oh, I'm sure, Nora, and I know I cau never marry any one else, that's certain.” Of this clause I, too, felt tolerably convinced, as I looked at her flushed, earnest face. On the rest of her prem. ses I did not base much faith; and, indeed, Mr. Roger Braide's demeanor was anything but that of an anxious, | eager lover, | For some weeks following I bad i ample opportunity of observing the | extent and character of his devotion to | | my whole-hearted little friend. His listless, hali-indifferent air of owner | ship, his lazy familiarity, the calm | assurance and boundless ease with which | he ocoasionally kissed her cheek, or | pressed her hand, making nothing of | my presence, roused my deep indigna- ion, ! { That he was fond of her, he allowed | to appear before all eyes, except those | of his watchful aunt, in whose presence | poor Et was doomed to continuous neg- lect. And that he was calmly and im- | pertinently sure of her, he allowed also | to be very plainly inferred. { Poor Et, her young life—that period | | of time at least—was a perfect tumult of { bliss and misery. Her aunt made no objection to Roger's remaining, and in- | deed, martyrized the young fellow | pretty thoroughly in the matter of rides { and walks, and almost constant personal | attendance upon himself. | Not that I was sorry for him, by any | means. Indeed, I felt secretly rejoiced | to see him bearing Miss Livingstone's | shawls and pillows, and looking as if he would like to lie down on them him- | self. Et felt for him the greatest com- | miseration. She seemed to think noth- ing was so charming in a man as lazi- ness, except the peculiar languid im- pertinence in which Mr, Braide trinm.- | i We talked a great deal abont these three people—Lanra and Vincent and I; rather, I talked a good deal, aud Laura and Vincent listened. They were to be married themselves in October, and could not be expected to have very vivid interest in the love affairs of other people ; but asfar as a betrothed counle ean pay attention to anything but each other, they allowed themselves to partake of my deep thought and anxiety for Et and her future. She was such a loving, tender, soft, confiding, dutiful and sensitive little itself so completely in the keeping of her handsome, easy-going, careless rfectly content to smoke cigarattes and look at her with lazy rapture for “ Miss Nora,” Miss Livingstone said to me abruptly, one morning, when we wero sitting tetea-tete on the shady over the croquet balls on the lawn, * 1 think you have an honest face" —with her steel gray eyes reading mine, “I believe you would not tell me an no- truth. I want vou to answer me frankly. Do youn think Roger here is in love | wits his cousin—that he is trying to | win her love? In a word, do you think | I want your can- did opinion.” My face may have reddened a little, but I returned her steady gaze. “Miss Livingstone, since you ask me, ol course I must answer sincerely. No, is in love with Et, and I am sure he can have no serious thoughts about | marriage. A man does not treat a woman he is trying to win as Mr, Braide treats his cousin. He likes her, cer- with him! adore her.” Miss Livingstone's face was fairly | radiant as I concluded my speech with emphasis, “Well, well,” she said, nodding cheerfully, “you've bad opportunities of observing, and you ought to know. I hope sincerely it is as you say. I I shoald think he would there was nothing between these two but cousinly love, Well, time will prove all, Miss Nora—time will prove | Time did, indeed, prove all, and | sooner than we could have dreamed. night, close on midnight, there was a commotion in the apartments occupied by the Liv-| | ingstones—a sudden moving to and fro | | and quick footsteps, then Et's hurried, | sobbing voice calling loudly, “ Nora! |! Nura! Oh, girls, come quick!" Luckily, we were undressed and | i could respond to her summons. Wa! found Miss Livingstone lying on her bed, white and rigid and breathing heavily. Mrs. Gordon and Et were bending over her, and Roger Braide was stand- | ing at the foot of the bed, withont a | coat on, and looking very handsome | minus collar and cravat. Perhaps his unusual attractiveness was not due so much to undress as to a certain very grave anxiety and pallor on his ordinarily listlees countenance, it looked up quickly with tears on her face, caught my hand, and held me close at her side. ©] think she is dying,” she whispered tremblingly. “A moment ago she fell, and Roger lifted her, and she has not spoken. She does not seem to be con- | gcious of anything. Ob, I thivk we | ought te send for a doctor. She would not have one near her if she knew, but | now it seems— Oh, Mrs. Gordon, | don’t you think we ought to have one now ?” “If youn will tell me where to go,” began Roger, quickly. But before ke could say more, Miss | Livingstone’s lips parted, and she spoke : “No doctor, Et,” very slowly yet dis- tinetly came the words. ‘He could only tell me what I know—the end has come. But’—suddenly her eyes were opened on us, bright and keen—‘I want a lawyer, Will Roger be as ready to find one for me ?” We all drew back a little as Roger came forward to the bed. “I am ready to do anything for you, Aunt Nettie,” he said, tenderly, and yet with a curious flush, like that of pride on his face. ‘It wiil not be far to seek, Mr. Gale ig a lawyer. He can do for you whatever is needful.” * Ah, yes, I forgot,” she murmured, “Then ask him to come, and leave me with him, all of you.” alone with the dying woman, in sad expectancy, we saw on the little table beside the bed pens and ink and writing paper, and in his hand Vincent held a sheet of fooolscap, closely cov. fered with his own fine, olear ohirog- raphy, His face looked troubled and perplexed, but he addressed us in his usual matter.of fact tones: “I have bean requested by Miss Liv. ingstone to draw out a second will, en. tirely contradictory to her first will, 1 will also read to you, if necessary, al though I think the persons most inter. | Livingstone, are already acquainted { with the provisions of that document” — Roger bowed and Et sobbed against my shoulder. “This second paper, 1 way briefly say, bequeaths to the State all of Miss Mehitable Livingstone's tion, under conditions which you will understand when I read the will, as I witnesses thereof” Vincent's legal calmness amazed me go that I could scarcely breathe, and I began to feel that 1 actually hated him. Here was the dying woman, with her eager, terrible face, my poor Et trem- bling and sobbing, and all the rest of more or less dissolved in tears; proud and sorrowful-looking, and that imperturbable Vincent, so cool and glib, Before he could begin to read the out again, clearly and firmly. “ You understand, Et, that it requires Promise me that you will never marry Roger— Oh, child, BAY Yes, For your own good, Et for your own safety?” Roger Braide made a sudden, quick movement, as ifhe would start forward and speak; bunt Et curbed him with a touch of her little fingers on his wrist, Then she went close to the bed and took her aunt's hand in both her own, “Dear, dear Aunt Nettie," she said, brokenly, “you have been good to me, but—but I can't obey you; I can't promise not to marry, for Roger—for wo are married already. We have been married since early spring.” A swift, awful change went over the pale face on the pillows; the keen gray eyes wero closed, ‘Forgive me—forgive me!” poor Et sobbed, passionately. “Don't leave me any money. I don’t want anthing, only forgive me! Ob, Aunt Nettie, you must. You can't leave me this way. I am 80 sorry-—so sorry I” There was no answer ; but two great tears rolled slowly from between the shut eyelids and down the wrinkled cheeks. The hand that Et held so lov- ingly lay passive in her clasp. After a while, with a great effort, Aunt Netlie murmured : “The willl Give When it was placed in her fingers she tore it quietly in two. “Mr, Gale must have a hundred dol- lars for his trouble, Et,” was all she said. Then, with a little motion of her she looked np, dambly, into his young, “Yos, yes, Aunt Nettie,” he an- swered, quickly, fervently, as if to “God is my witness, I will be good to her. I will shield her from every care —from every trouble’ — and for the first time he too broke into slender shoulder. - * * Et and I are still fast friends, and I am constrained to admit that I have grown to like Roger very much indeed, * ~ any lack of devotion to his little wife, I think I never saw so happy a couple. “ You see, dear,” Et says, in her old, husband as he goes sauntering lazily French villa, with Hugo at his heels— misjudged him, Of course, being mar- such a difference. were perfectly sure nothing counid sep- ns, and besides we had lived We were beginning to I am glad you have your opinion. 1 yon really do appreciate now. Dear old Hugo, too! Do you remember how cross he used to be shout Roger, and his awful growling if him a minute, about all day like that. loves Roger now almost as much as 1 do!” Charlotte Cashman’s Spirit, The following anecdote illustrates Miss Cushman's decision and nerve. daring the season of 1851.52, as she was playing Romeo to the Juliet of Miss Anderton, in the midst of one of the most romantic passages between the lovers, some person in the house sneezed in such a manner as to attract the attention of the whole audience, and every one knew that the sneeze was artificial and derisive, Miss Cushman instantly stopped the dia- logue, and led Miss Anderton off the stage, as a cavalier might lead a lady offered her. She then returned to the and said in a clear, firm voice: “Some man must pnt that per- mysoll.,” The fellow wai taken away; the audience rose en masse and gave Miss Cashman, who recalled her companion and proceeded pened, Skinned Aldve, Six robbers, armed to the teeth, made their appearance recently at the castle to the barracks of the Pandours, or Croat regiment, Here they overpow- ered the quartermaster, bound him, and placing him in the carriuge, hur- ried him off to a neighboring wood. Arrived here they suspended him to a tree, and, pnlling ont their long knives, proceeded to cut the skin from his body. They then sent back the car- riage to its owner, telling the driver to make known that they had flayed the fore, he had caused a member of their band to be shot. Somebody has invented a rubber- headed tack. You can miss it with a hammer just as well as one of the com- mon kind, FOR THE LADIES, SUNDAY READING, Yictor Hugo en Immortality, I fool in myself the futare life, [am like a forest which has been more than once ont down, stronger and livelier than ever, rising, I know toward the sky. sunshine is on my head, gives me generous sap, but lights me with the refloction of known worlds, nothing but the powers, Mistress of the Hobe nnd Matds of Honor te the Gueen. In the lord chamberlain’s depart ment are the mistress of the robes, with a salary of £300; the groom of the robes, with £500 (and a clerk, a The and eight ladies of the bedehamber. The duties of the latter consist in wait. ing on her Msjesty fora fortnight at a resultant of bodily called upon three times a year for this duty. Following these in rank are the eight maids of honor, who rapreseut a begin to fail. Winter is on my head and eternal spring is in my heart, In Then I breathe, at this hour, the fra- royalty. 1625, shortly after his roses, as at twenty years, The nearer for the guidance of the maids :" The queen's maids of honor are to come into the presence chamber before 11 of the clock and go to prayers; and after prayers to attend un il the queen Again, at 3 o'clock around me the immortal symphonies of the worlds which invite me. It is mar- velous yet simple, It is u fairy tale, and it is a history. For half a century I bave been writing my thoughts in prose, verse, history, philosophy, manoe, tradition, satire, have tried all. : : ode, song-—I And when thew shall be retired into # their chamber, they admit of no man to come there, and that they go not at any time out of the court without leave asked of the lord chamberlain of her majesty, and that the mother of the maids see all the orders concerning in me. When I go down to the grave 1 can say, like so many others, * I have finished my day's work,” but I cannot work will begin again the next morning. The tomb is not a blind alley; it is a thor. oughfare. Ii closes in the twilight to open with the dawn* I improve every hour, because I love this woria ss my fatherland, because the truth compels me, a8 it compelled Voltaire, the human divinity. My work is only a beginning. My monument is hardly above its toun- dation. 1 would be glad mounting and mounting forever, thirst for the infinite proves infinity. Nowadays the queen's maids of honor do not have such restriotions placed on their liberty, and merely take their ter, on her majesty. After these in rank who serve in rotation in the same man- ner, and are only expected to serve on the state occasions, Henrietta, Duch- ess of Buffolk, in one of her letters, gives an interesting acoount of the du. Rolizicus News and Noten ties of these “women” in her time. _— : “ The bedchamber woman came into | The total number of churches in B os Sa . 2 be ia 9 waiting before she was dressed. The | ton 1s 224, queen often shifted in a morning. 1i| The Protestant Episcopal church sus. | dians, without any ceremony, and the lady | In N.lraska, outof 185 churches only it on. Bometimes likewise, the | fifty have buildings. In Mianesota, out bedchamber women gave the fan to | of 120 missionary churches, seventy- the lady in the same manner, and this nice have no chureh home, was all that the bedohamber lady did | pr Lyman Beecher preached until about the queen when she was dressing. | 1,4 was eighty vears old, aad Henry When the queen washed her hands, the Ward Beecher hopes to do likewise. page of the back stairs brought aud | yy, will be sixty-nine next June, set down on the sidetable the basin and Floridaisthe Buster State. It was ewer, Then the bedchamber woman! ,. ER . ten : *19 sah §1 v : discovered on Euster Sunday in 1512 set it before the queen and knelt on the Snaniavds lod by Ponce de A nA Sopantards led by Ponce de Leon land other side of the table over against the | ing near S5. Augustine on that day queen, the bedchamber lady only look. | "75 55 #5 EATS sy we ing on. The bedechamber woman poured the water out of the ewer upon the queen's hands. The bedchamber woman pulled on the queen's gloves when she could not do it herself, The page of the back stairs was called in| As the result of the Harrison reviva to put on the queen's shoes,” ete. All | meetings in Bt. Paul's Methodist church, this is now obsolete; the situations are | Cincinnati, it is stated that 1,330 differ. juite honorary so far as work is con- | ent persons have been at the altar as cerned. The salaries of the m aids of | seckers and 1,023 have been converted. honor and the bedechamber woman are £300 per annum each, — Chambers FOU nal, The Congregational churches of Mas- sachusetts report 80 662 members, The net gain for the vear is 424. There are 029 churches, of which 209 have pas tors, and 164 acting pastors. Thera are a larze number of Roman Cstholie colleges aad schools in the archdiocese of Ballimore, with an ag {rregate attendancs of 10.141 pupils, { Thore are no less tha fiftesn orphan. ages and asyloms, | A decennial missionary conference will be held in Caleatta daring Curis? mas week of the preseat year. All Protestant societies will be represented i : Fashion Notes, Black braid trims colored dresses, Large bows are used on low shoes, Neckerchiefs are tied in large bows. Berry buttons are used in jet and pearl, Skirts are narrow, but bustles are large. Indis linen is used for white moming | dresses, Surplice necks are stylish and be- coming. Japanese crimped orape is used for bonnets, Ivory white is the fashionable shade of white, New pokes poke downward in the | in it. The last conference was held i: 1872, and was an occasion of very grea interest, At the special convention of Sunday- school workers of North Carolina, at Raleigh, the sseretary's report gave the following statistics for the Slate : San- day schools, 4 197 ; schelars, 197,973; teachers, 53576; total membership, { 231,513, A Monstrous Cow, | 1 H. Cooperidge, of Licking county, Dismond. shaped openings are on new | Ohio, writes : “In a recent issue of i the Olio Stale Jowrnal 1 notice an ao count of a monstrous cow owned by | Martin 8. Siakes, of Grayville, White | county, Illinois. This cow is seven years old and weighs 3 000 pounds, is | seventeen and one-half hands high, ten { and one-half feet long from the nose to {the buttock, seventeen and one-half | feet long from the end of the nose to {the end of the tail (considerable tail,) eight feet nine inches around the girt ing, twenty-six inches around the fore- | arm, and thirty-one inches across the hips. She has been exhibited in four States—Illinois, Indiana, Missouri and | Tennessee, Bhe is white and red, | mostly the latter, well formed, and a | perfect beauty; Las two calves, one three vears old and the other three months old, She was raised in Posey | county, Indiana. Now this is a little | the biggest cow story I ever heard, and Breakfast caps are of silk muslin em- Shoulder capes cross in front in sur- plice styles. Small black Neapolitan bonnets are fushionable, Amvia is the name given to a new and lovely shade of yellowish pink. In Paris children’s stockings must match their dresses; this is obligatory The designs and colorings of new The new satines, and in fact all the in figure or flower designs, are accom- in plaid solid colors, intended for skirts Little boys’ “first breeches” suits are largest cow in the world. However, I They consist of short trou- | upward. : rd { all, for this may be true, and sufficient blouse or sack jacket. | game. I have a cow ten years old, that three years old before having the first call, Now some may think this is a dream; but it 1s a fact, and can be proven. Nev moire ribbons have canvas: | flower edges in bright vari-colors, on white, black, and the shades of red, blue, green, olive and brown that have come in vogue this season. Handsome bridal sets consisting of three pieces—drawers, chemise and deed munch smaller). roan color, almost white, heifer calf. ments at prices ranging from 830 to bull calves. 860, according to the amount of lace, fine tucking, stitching, embroidery and feather stitching on the garments, Braids in fancy patterns, looped cords and brandebourgs of passementerie, trim the fronts of many of the spring costumes, especially those of Gilbert cloth, cheviot, flannel and camel's hair serge. Ornaments to match are used to loop parts of the skirt draperies. Plaided effects are found in some of the new camel's hair cloths, cashmeres and imperial serges, These plaids are produced by fine lines of the same color just a shade lighter than the ground shade of the material. They may be called invisible plaids or bars, Very pretty and expensive suits of navy-blue flannel are made up with a kilt skirt, short draped apron and back drapery, and a box-plaited basque un lined. The sleeves also are unlined. These are intended for fatigue cos- tumes to be worn through the entire season, Sunflower dresses have a huge sun- flower embroidered in distinct parts of the fabric, with wide spaces between the flowers or groups. Made up by an artistic—~not fashionable —dressmaker, who knows how to manage the design without giving the flower or groups too great prominence, the effect of such dresses is good. Other large flowers are likewise utilized by embroidery for dress purposes. three sets of twins making her as many calves as sho is years old, or averaging one oalf for every year of her life. the brother farmers has a sow that can beat that let them trot her out. The Dakota Man’s Farm, “Yes, gir,” said the Dakota man, as a crowd of agriculturists seated thom- selves around a little table; ‘yes, si; wo do things on rather a sizable scale I've seen a man start ont in the spring and plow a furrow until fall. Then he turned around and harvested back. We have some big farms np there, gentle- men. A friend of mine owned one on which he had to give a mortgage, and the mortgage was due on one end before they could get it recorded on the other. You sce it was laid off in counties,” ment, and the Dakota man continued: «I got a letter from a man who lives in my orchard, just before I left home, and it had been three weeks getting to the dwelling house, although it had traveled day and night.” « Distances are pretty wide up there, ain't they ?” inquired one, “Reasonably, rensonably,"replied the Dakota man. “And the worst of it is, it breaks up families so. Two years ago I saw a whole family prostrated with grief. Women yelling, children howl- ing and dogs barking. Ouse of my men had his eamp truck packed on seven four-mule teams and he was around bidding everybod ! good-bys.” “ Where was he going?’ asked a Gravesend man, “He was a going half way across the farm to feed the pigs,” replied the Da- kota man, “ And did he ever get back to his family again ?" “It isn't time for him yet,” replied ihe Dakots man.,— Brooklyn Eagle, With the Greeks and Romans, carpen- try, especially as applied to war pur- poses, made great progress, The wood. en horse that caused the fall of Troy, the Argonaut’s ships and bridge thrown over the Rhine by Cwsar's legions are familiar examples of the results ob- tained. pn IIs During a week of fog in London the mortality increased from the usual rate of 22 per 100 to 856.8 per 100, | | | SCIENTIFIC NOTES, According to Mr. PP, L. Solater, F. R. | B., the term lipotype, which is com- | paratively new to science, is employed | lo indicate animals which we should | For | instance, Australian lipotypes are mon. keys, vultures and woodpeckers, Professor Dufour has presented a | new and interesting proof that the | The images of distant | objects reflected in the Lake of Geneva | in calm weather show just the degree | The sand of the Sahara desert is| 200 degrees Fahrenheit by the vertical | This gives rise to a | In 1813 Burkhart recorded 122 degrees in the shade during the preva. | Mr. W. H. Preece, F. R. B., states | that the explosion of a cannon ean be instances are known i i dred miles. It is very well known, he | thi that the roar of the guns at] WwW po was heard on the English | const, more than one hamdred miles | from the battlefie _ Adjuten Guam, ay of the Twen- has patented an instrument which he callsa for wig purposes, The signals consist of the letters of the For signaling to a distance | of two and a balf miles the whole ap- It has been held by some medical | individuals is the gradual application | of heat, while a few experimenters have | claimed that the warming should be rapid, To settle the matter, Lapts- chinkski has made a series of very care- | following results: Of twenly animals | treated by the method of gradual resus. | citation in a cold room, fourteen per- | ished; of twenty placed at once in a warm apartment, eight died; while of twenty immediately put into a hot bath | all recovered. - —— i The Hay Trade, Dealers and brokers in hay doing | business in this city, says the New | nes, are deploring the lack of | organization in tus trade which has | resulted in preventing the development that would otherwise have occurred in this branch of business. It is insisted that the importance of the trade has never been properly understood, or, at least, taken into scecunt, and that loss | has resulted in consequence, There | are about six hundred dealers in hay at | this port, and the value of the com- mated at from $20 000,000 to $25,000, | 000, Not only is New York the great- | est hay-growing State in_ the Union, but this city is the “oeq. | ter of supply of the commodity? for the seaboard Southern States and for the West Indies, Mexico and Central and South America. The Grocer, in a recent article | calling attention to the condition of | the trade in hay here, gives some in-| toresting figures. It appears from them | that the hay crop stands third in im- | portance, In 1880-—the year for which the statistics are given—the value of | the Indian corn produced was $679, | 714,400; that of wheat, $474 201 850, and that of hay $371.811,084. Cotton | was next on the list, with a walue of | §280,266,2 12, then oats, valued at $150,- | 213,505; then potatoes, $81,062 214, and | then tobacco, $34,414,615. As to the paying quality of the crop, it appears | that the hay yielded a return of $14 38 per acre, or 83.83 per acre in excess of | the corn. The five States of New York, | Towa, Pennsylvania, Illinois and Ohio furnished 15, 432,410 tons, or nearly one- half the entire supply, which aggre- | gated 31,925,233 tons. One of the greut complaints in the trade is the use ef hickory or other heavy wood in baling. It 18 said to bo an every-day occurrence for baled hay to come to market with the wood weighing from fifteen te twenty five per cent of the whole. Among other drawbacks to the development of the taade bere are said to be the lack of system in gather. | ing statistical information, the absence as obtains in Chicago, and the need of a way for ‘‘ obtaining concerted or an- thornitative action to indneco growers to market,” The organization of au ex- edy for the evils, a ———————————— | Under the English Channel, Count Ernest von Hesse-Wartege | read a paper before the New York | Academy of Science on “The Submar- | ine Tunnel Bétween England and | formation of the rocks under the Eng- lish Channel, whioh, he said, would ren. of the great facilities that such a | and From a commercial point of view the under- | taking would be a profitable one, for at | present some 700,000 passengers an- nually cross between England and the Continent, and about $500,000,000 | worth of goods were carried. Of the entire trade between Britain and the Continent the Tunnel company, it is estimated, would do a business to the extent of £1,200,000 annually and net £732,000, or 74 per cent. on the capital invested, Of the feasibility of the enterprise there was no doubt, as it had been shawn that the chalk formation of the bed of the channel was impervious, or almost impervious, to water. The tunnel would be twenty-four feet wide by nineteen feet high barrel-shaped, and lined with brick, which, however, s0 as to allow whatever water might leak through to escape to the bottom. The highest part of the tunnel would be in the middle of the channel, and from this point the tunnel would decline toward England and France, so as to allow the water to flow off, At either end deep reservoirs would be dug to receive the water, which would then be pumped up through the shafts to the surface, The lecturer described the method of borin and said that thirty-six feet was bore every day. The great incon- venience that was being experienced and which would become more serious, was the bad ventilation, and the meth- ods that were employed for ventilating the St. Gothard and other tunnels would be insufficient on account of the great depression of the tunnel. When completed two great air-pumps will be erected, one to pump air in and the other to exhaust it. The Cavadian Mecca. In a pletargue description of the famous shrine of Ble, Aune de Beaupre by W, GG. Beers in the Century, occurs the cares said to be effected there: But there the steamers come, and soon two thousand pilgrims land on the A brass band leads the way, sion, dusty but devoted, many, no doubt, with mingled hopes and fears Over forty eoripples limp along on orutches or supported by friends, and a pitisble sight it is. ‘The procession enters the new church, where, at the high altar and at the As you enter you ses a large money box, of ancient date and eurions construction, fastened to a pillow by iron stanchions, The quaint padlock is opened by an old -fushioned bed key. Over the side doors are rude ex volo paintings, representing wonderful res- cession to Ste. Anne, Over the altar is the eminent French artist, and the side altars contain paintings by the Francisean monk Lefrancois, who died in 1680, Hung upon a decorated ped- etal is a handsome oval frame or reli- quary like a large locket, surrounded with garnets, and having in its center a rich cross of pearls. Besides this, you see the collection of bones said to be the relies of the saint, consisting of a piece of one finger-bone, obtained in 1668, by Bishop Laval, from the chap- ter of Osrosssopnne, and which was fT 670. : is a piece of boue of y Ob. do not know to what part of the bo of a sinner, The church also claims to own a piece of the true cross upon which our Bavior died, and a piece of in which Bie. Anne lived, brought froma France in 1870. Also there may be seen a superb chasnble, given by Anne of Austria, mother of Louis X1IV., Nothing, however, will excite more curiosity than the great pyramid of crutches and aids to the sick and erip- gilt statue of thesaint. The collection is very curious and principally home- ATRIA Selections from Longfellow’s Writings. No, 1. Longfeline's Advice to Pupils, “live up to the best that is in you; live nobls lives, as you sll may, in whatever condition you may find yourselves, so that may be that of Euripides: ‘This famous, O Ea ripides | but thou makest this monument fi- mous.’ » Whene'er a noble deed is Wiener is spoken a noble th Our hearts in glad surprise To higher levels rise, - » Honor to those whose words or deeds Thus help us in our daily needs, And by their overflow Raise us from what is low! "Santa Filomena” The heights by great men reached and Were not attained by sudden flight; yt But they, while their companions slept, Were toiling up sard in the night, "The Ladder of 8. Augustine™ In spite of rock and tempest's rosr, In spite of false lights on the shore, Ball on, nor fesr (0 breast the sea | Our hearts, our hopes, are all with thee; Our hearts, our hopes, our prayers, our teas, Our faith triumphant o'er our fears, Are all with thee, are all with thee | ~The Building of the Ship.” Oh, glorious thonght ! that lifts me above the power of time and chance, and tells me that | cannot pass away, and leave no mark of my existence, — ‘Outre Mer,” . - * hildren, What the leaves are to the forest, With light snd sir for food, Ere tneir swest and tende: juioss Have been hardened into wood we That to the world sre chil ‘ren; Through them it feels the glow Of a brighter and sunnier elimate Than reaches the trunks below, me, Oh ye children ! fyomrboie? J Ye are better than all the baffle That ever were sung or said; For ye are the Lying poeins, And all the rest are dead, Like an inuniation of the Indus is to course of Time,. We look for the homes o of our childbood ~they aregone! The love port testifies to a reputed removal of anchylogis of the knee-joint by inter cossion to thesaint. I have no desire to seer, but that there is some impo- can doubt, faith in intercession to a saint, with mingled hope and fear and a strong determination to force a cure, may in some cases really throw off disease; but the power of mind and will over the body without any intercession is familiar to every student, and is no doubt an undevel. oped branch of medical science. A miracle. puted miracles, the following from a manual of devotion will be sufficiently suggestive: “In the year 1664 a woman broke her leg. As the bone was frac- tured in four places it was impossible to set it. For eight months she was un. able to walk, and the doctors gave up all hope of a cure. She made a novena in honor of the maint, and vowed that if she wus cured she would visit the shrine every vear, She was carried to the church, and during the comamunion she put aside her crutches and was oured at once.” Sworn testimony is given as to instant recovery in diseases said by physicians to be incurable by ordinary means, and among the peculiar favors accorded to the parish the temporal as well as spiritual is vot forgotten. The Bishop of Montreal says that il is Ste, Anne who obtains for it “rain in the time of drought.” Curious Notices, A bridge at Denver, Colorado, boasts of a notice which might almost claim the dignity of being ranked ss a mathe- matical proposition. It is to the effect that ** No vehicle drawn by more than in opposite directions at the same time." An equally slipshod specimen of the Queen's English may sill be found exhibited as a * public notice” by the Southeastern Railway company at the Cannon street terminns ; ‘Tickets once nipped and defaced at the barriers, and the passengers ad- mitted to the platform will be delivered holders subsequently retiring from the platform, without traveling, and cannot Seventy years ago the Universal Mag- azine recorded the fact that the notice yeared over the door of a school in the neighborhood of Hoxton; and a few years since the Leeds Krpress contained evidence that the schoolmaster was still abroad. According to that newspaper two eurious documents were to be seen in two different windows in the neigh- borhood of Hunslet. The first, in a wretched scribble, is as follows: *‘A Da Skool kept hat—plaise, terms 2 and 3 The other, dow in Drury Lane: A man lives here which don't refuse To mend old boots, likewise old shoes; My leather is good, my price is jast, 5 But times are bad] cannot trast. The native landlord of the hotel at Lahore, in which the following notice to the guests is posted up, is apparently determined to charge for every possible item of expéniziuse, and to allow no fuss about the payment of what he anticipates his customers will look upon as overcharges: * Gentlemen who come in hotel not say anything about their meals they will be charged for ; and if they should say beforehand that they are going out to breakfast or dinner, ete., and if they say that they not have anything to eat, they will be charged, and if not so they will be charged, or unless they bring it to the notice of the manager; and should they want to say anything they must order the manager for and not any one else; and unless they not bring it to the notice of the manager, they will be charged for the least things according to the hotel rate, and no fuss will be allowed afterwards about it Should any gentleman take wall-lamps or candle-light from the public rooms, they must pay for it without any dis- pute its charges, Monthly gentlemans will have to pay my fixed rate made with them at the time, and should they absent day in the month, they will not be allowed to deduct anything out of it, because I take from them less rate than my usual rate of monthly charges.” Whatever hath been written shall remain, The unwritten only still belongs 10 thee: —** Morituri Salulavius® We have not wings, we cannot soar, But we have feet to scale and climb By slow degrees, by more snd more, The cloudy summiis of our time, Nor deem the irrevocable Past As wholly wasted, wholly vain, If, rising on iw wrecks, at last, To something nobler we attain, The Ladder «f 8. Augustine” Por the structure that we rasa, Time is with matorio's filled; Our to-dave and yesterdays Are the blocks with which we build, Under the bright and glorious sky, and looks On duties well porfoemed, aud days weli spent | For him the wind, ay, and the yellow leaves hall have a voice, and give him eloquent teachings, Has lifted up for all, that he shall go To kis long resting place without a tear, A —— A ———_— WISE WORDS, Edunestion should brine to mind the They are never alone that are sccom- panied with noble 1houghts,—[Sidoey. Allowing the * blues” to master you Clothes are the best passport among straugers—charscter mong acquaint ances, 1 dare do sll that may become a man; who dures do more is none.—[Shake- speare. It is ible for a man to be so dow on in the long run he ph himself. There is nothing so likely to produce peace as to be well prepared to meet the enemy. Pat a drop of honey on ycur ton une before you speak, and see how easy it is to make friends. It is ove thing to eee that a line is crooked, and another thing to be able to draw a straight one. What we learn in youth grows up with us, and in time becomes a par of this mind itself.—[ Anon. Oft the cloud which wraps the ant hour serves but te brighten future days.— [John Brown. Pigmies are pigmies still, though perched on Alps; snd pyramids are pyramids in vales. — [Young. Common sense does not ask an im- possible chess board, but takes the one before it and plays the game. Be courageous and noble-minded ; our own heart, and not other men's opinions of us, forms our true honor. The wise prove, and the foolish oon- fess, by their conduct, that a life of employment is the only life worth lead- ing. Fancies, like wild flowers, in a night may grow; but thoughts are plants whose stately growth is slow.—[Mrs. E. QO. Kinney. If you would not be forgotten as soon a8 you are dead either write Shinty worth reading or do things writing. —[ Franklin. What an emancipation it is to have es from the little inclosure of dogma and to sta.d—far, indeed, from being wise, but free to learn! The talent of success is nothing more than doing ‘what you can do and doing well whatever you do without a thonght of fame,~ [Longfellow. If a man empties his purse into his head no man can take it away from him. An investment in knowl always pays the best interest,— [ Franklin, There are moments of despondence, when Shakespeare thought himself no poet, and Raphael no painter, when the greatest wits have doubted the excel lence of their happiest efforts. Living men must have living institu- tions. It is very idle to Suppose that we are to be ruled by men who are ly- ing in their graves. Each age is ca- pable of judging of its needs ; it is not to be supposed that a past age knew what we should want. Noble Courage, A poor boy was attending school one day with a large patch on one of the knees of his tronsers. One of hisschool- mates made fun of him for this and called him * Old Patch.” “Why den't you fight him?” cried one of the boys. ‘Id give it to him if he Salley me os 3 ant “Oh,” said the boy, “ yon sup- e I'm ashamed of my patch, do you? or my part, I'm thankful for a good mother to keep me out of rags. I'm proud cf my patoh for her sake.” This was noble. Thet boy had the courage that would make him sucoess- ful in the struggles of life. We must to come out right, Think not, because In the elder days of Art, For the gods see overywhers, Let us do our work se well, Both the unseen sud the seen; Besutitul, entire snd clean, Else our lives are incomplete, Standing in these wa'ls of Time, Broken stairways, where the feel Stamble ss they seek 10 climb, Build to-day, then, strong and sure, With & firm and smple base; And ascending and secore Shall to-morrow find its place, Thus salons ean we attain = ; To those turrets, whare thé eye And one boundless reach of sky. ————————————————————— HUMOR OF THE DAY. How Fish Hooks are Made, There are two ways of finishing hooks, Eicher they are *japanned,” which gives them the k nish, which is the most common one, or they are finished with that fice blue that is frequently put pon sw aud ou'- lery. It is done by heating them in & tarpace till they come toa “cherrs. red” as the workmen call it. and then they are poured into a bucket of oil and left to cool, : After finishing they are takén up to the deft-fingered girls, who rapidly count them by hooking them over piece of coarse wire, and throwing on at the same time the imperfect ones. Then they pack them in neat boxes and they are stack:d up ready for market.— Wide Awake. ~ # Treatment of the Insane, The employment of asvlum atio at farm and household labor has been proved to bave a beneficial eflect upon them; to induce a move reasonable mode of thonght and action, less bo : ness and more good sleep. In English asylums restraint is Dol and en per cent. of the inmates are emplo; in some useful vecupation. It has even been found better not to lock doors and bar windows, as the presence of such safeguard as an excitant upon the minds of lunaties. Daring the last fifty vears wonderful changes have been made in the treat- ment of insane persons, all in the diree- tion of wore humane care and less bru- tality. There is just as much room for improvement in the methods of criminals and pan and fifty ye more will probably bring sbout g changes for the better in their manage- ment. es : Cost of Keeping Fortifications. An approximate statement of moneys expended on fortifications by ( France and ltaly within ten makes the whole amount 1; franes, or about $240,000,000. "Of
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers