Wedded, Now that I hold thee with a husband's right, Turn thy dear head, sweet wife, and let rest Of earth the purest, of thy sex the best, Letthy smile-winning lips, all tremulous, Press soft on min® a soul-enthralling kiss, An earnest of the happy years to us, Of unalloyed, yea! perfect wedded bliss, So let the sunlight of thy presence shine Athwart the future vision of my life, Thy gentle spirit radiate through mine, And make me worthier of thy love, sweet wife Forty. Wh many a careless, jovous bound, With many » weary, treadmill round, @'er-amooth-spread turf or dange ous ground, By many a limpid stream, and nil, By many a mountain torreat will, 1, from a simple, trusting child, Have wandered on te forty, From feet that skipped to sober tread From mind with foolish fancies fed, To sounder judgment, wiser head; The ohange to work from thoughtless play, The ahange from graver thoughts to gay Which came to me along the way 1 strode while reaching lorty, Through visions which had real ssemed — *Throagh vi-ions wilder than I dreawed; Through shadows where the silver glowed, Through sunny pisces half o’ercast Dy eerie shapes which fitted fast For brightness cannot always jast, And youth must merge in forty, i Now let me count my treasures o'er; What have I won or lost? Far more Have lost than gained, Sach boundless store Of faith and hope [ boasted, when 1 wandered from a lad of ten ‘To where my vision broadenad, My faith exceeded forty. Then Somewhat have learned, and much unlearned. Some good received, much more have spurned. And mach that mig have been discerned 1 loft unheeded wandering by With careless or averted eve; Forgetting that the moments fy . 50 fast from youth to forty. I've reached the summit of the race, iad would move on with slower pace; ut {urty has no breathing place; Sa shift and ture me as { will Tha yoars will crowd snd jostle stil}, Axd I may hasten down the hill To scare anoiber fony. 1 view tha path I've wandered om, Where forty years have come and gone, And much of faith and hope liss strewn, And pray they may prove finest gold, The remepant of the falth I hold, And shred of hope I still infold, And list another forty, . Springfield Republican, i ThePathetic Young Man. | Walking the sands with her futher, Miss Giannis felt that she had lived up | ‘oc all the possibilities of eighteen years; | that she erjoyed the ocean view more | for being perfectly dressed, and gazing | on it from under a fleece of dark curling bain, which crept fashionably low on | ber forehead, without ever having been | hainiresser's merchandise. She er joyed even the deubtful support her French beel gave the sroh cf ber foot. At any time it would have hurt Miss Grannis | to be less than a picture azaizst the '‘sncseape. She had delicate. features, Irrgo hazel eyes, aud cheeks inclined to flash, and she knew it was a face to set w ith a backgronnd of immense hat, and | wo¢ve Mother Hubbard shirrings on the | shoulders below it. Yet she was an in- | rocent creature, with the dregs of child- | hsod lingering on her lips. Her father was an innocent creature wi80 ; short and thick, witha face clean- | «haven except a thom of beard on the | end of his chin. His methodical move- | ments and placid air indicated the basi- ness man retired on the profits of a | successful career. He carried a heavy | #old-beaded cane, and gave his left arm | to Lis dangliter, who indulgently let her | singers lie thersin. Tne gentleman's | walk wes a swinging one, while she! worried herself with eles‘ic elegance, | «watching the step when they jarred. Mr. | Grannis uttered a growl when her white parasol interfered with his hat, but upon her begging pardon, assured her it was pothiug at all, His manner toward his dsughter was ceremonious, | Sie had spent so much of her life in | carding schools, while he grubbed for woney, that he felt vnacqnainted with | ber. Besides, she was a woman, and | therefore entitled to deference. It was | ir. Grannis’ habit to lift his hat to the | chembermaids in his hotel, and ad- | dress his washer woman as madame, | They resched the wooden promenade, | + nd elicked slowly along it, Mr. Gran- 1.13 adding an occasional thad of his | come to the uneven cadences of their | sie ‘“ There's the pathetic young man sain,” observed Miss Granpis, casting s sidelong glance across the beach. | “What pathetic young msn?’ in- | qiired ber father, giving his cane head | ihe revolution on his pslm necessary to | j roduce a flourish. | “There ; standing alone, with a soft | rlonching hat on; black eyes and a large mustache, Don’t look now, he's poticing ns.” : Miss Grannis twitched her parasol ins Totty but self-conscious manner, ‘What's pathetic about him?’ in- gaired her father. “He looks fat and Learty. He needs to go to the barber ard get a double handful of his hair clipped off. Must be hot this weather.” The gentleman ended in sn abrupt chuckle which usuallystartled strangers | — it did not accord with his solidity. “Oh, I just call him the pathetic | young man, de stands gazing across the water so much, and his eyes are so sad when he looks at you at table.” ‘‘Maybe he’s a salesman out of a position,” volunteered Mr. Grannis; “‘or a professional man who can’t get into practice.” “ Don’t you think he looks nice, pa” | “No. Too pretty. Never saw a pretty | fellow that could do anything. Their | making’s in their flesh and bones, and it stops there.” “But don't you like his air?’ ¢ Stuff, stuff,” said Mr. Grannis, with- cut a punctuation mark or tingle of dis- approval. It was the methodical but not severe ping which he thought best to apply to his daughter's enthusiasms. ¥iis ownenthunsissms, being once roused, were irrepressible. . ‘‘ Perhaps he is stuff-staff, pa. There zin't many men, young or old, as nice and reliable as you are.” “ What do you know about that, child ?” inquired the old merchant, with 5 smirk pleasant to see, for it proved him one of those lovable male beings - open to flattery. “Oh, I know a great deal. I have a died men.” Miss Grannis exhaled i.8igh through Tarte lips. Agirl ins fiTge hat, with a face as delicate as un ower, who can sigh so prettily ard ruze at the horizon through smiling eyes, is very good company even for her father. Bo Mr.Grannis thumped slong with much satisfaction, The wind grew iresher as they walked and the pathetic ‘onng man faded away behind their backs, Atver following the beach half a mile ¢ ey left itand turned into a path which wound among rocks, Beyond the rocks and a sandy intervening belt was x piece of woodland that Miss Grannis aod her father bad explored before and found to their liking. Not to wander ia woods, however, do maids adorn themselves in Gainsborough hats and hioh.bae'ed boots. This was the walk all the hotel world took when not in. clined to go on wheels. There were benches under the trees. A cream- (ted parasol was spparently resti itself on one of these seats, while § § i i | { i - VOLUME XV, * - A SA NUMBER 32. sn. « trowsered shins and a sweep of sarod below it But Miss Qianus eearcely let her eyes rest on this or any other enchanted couple dotting the wista. She indi i al EK a girl sketching un 1 “There she is, pa. wer She doesn't “ Her mind's fixed on her business,” phasis, ad! he sketoher greeted them, however, as if pleased to see them aha poke + their week's stay. She did ‘s, Her thick light hair byng in two braids below her waist. Die wus very pretty, very dimpled tha wrists and finger roots, and v Quaker colors with almost Quake: plaloness, Sle Lad a small eamp stool beside her, t» which she swilingly motioned Mr, Gianms sat down dresead 3 on a pt lite observations, placed his hax ds on » of Lis osne, and begun to ned. “You're going 0 sleep, pa,’ cau- ioying the view, Fanny," ne o'd merchant, deo dadly, “1 rs Like to meditate while I am en- } FY. OW, ns smiled at the near land » of rcoks piled up balore the sea. i GI «! £8 Lilay came the pathetie young man, He y Tight to ba walking there. But # {act of his following so closely her r val made her start. e avast noticed this, and looked at young man cooliy and with an un. od aspect. He passed near them, £ their way, and went on among vt 8, 11d you notice that gentleman's ex- wee. 1.n inquired Miss Grafinis of her gn'on * Io you ?' said the artist ?’ “Yes, Hoe stops at our hote!, 1 hivk Le has the saddest face—as if his lize wee Litghted, or something.” * Maxbe he has blighted somebody 1.fe,” said the artist. I wonder bow?’ mused Misy Gran- nis. * You seem interested in him.” “Not a bit,” exclaimed the voung *. ‘He has never been intrcdaoed i don't even Know his name.” ** I ean tell yoa what it is,” said the artis’, changing ber pencil. “It's the samo as mire. Heis my husband.” * Mrs. Granger!” The young lady setting the umbrella, but saved herself this awkwardness, which would have pained her more than anything per- tainivg to the pathetic youngman, “I thought you were a widow.” “1 am-—a divorced widow. nece sary to biszon the fsct.” “Ard why—'' hinted Miss Grannis, She feit unwarranted to make inquiries srd glanced buek at her father, whose brow was sunk to Lis cane. But this shattered romance “Didn’t you love him ?”’ The biorda face put on a cynical sneer which fifted the nostrils aa in- It is not the wholesome, sweet muscles unapt for with = steady Land. ** Ob, yes, I loved him, Bat [ couldn't eat love. It was very lizht diet, I have sone solid Dateh bleed.” **Didu’t he give you enough to eat ?” uestioned Miss Grannis, with widening eyes. “Yon have evidently been foraged for all your life,” said the artist, ** And you can't see the danger which lurks in But let me tell you, if a man ever comes bave him, sheep, value him accordingly ; he ought to know what he is. And if he tells you he looks into the future and sees nothing but darkness, keep out of his darkness ; let him enjoy it himself. He'll Lave a good enough time. There is & worthlessness in some men worse than positive bad habits. They lack all the points which go to make success, All they can do in the race of life is to «nap at the heels of people who do win. Their companionship wears the soul threadlare, They have no faiths, no shabby kind tbat is without the nerve to vauit over difficulties, The exbilara- tion of life is Lever erjoyed near such a person. young man.” “Ob, ry!" said Miss Grannis, mean- ing to indicste that such views of mas- culine nature were distressing to her, and that her experience was far from preparing Ler for them. “But thought when two people were very much devoted to each other, they—did not mind anything else.” “Love,” said the artist, coolly, “never young man,” ‘* Was he ever cruel to you?’ “Yes, he was ;” a dart of pain ap- peared for the first time in the artist's voice, “I think he has killed ont much Thought the young lady, with secrct wisdom, “She loves him yet.” They sat a Joug time silent. The artist kept steadily at work, and the schoolgirl reconstructed a palace from the ruins in band. Shesifted her read. ing on the subject of matrimony, to find means with which to work on the mirds of this separated pair. It should be her mission to bring them together again. At®the end of a glory-lighted vista she saw them kneeling at her feet while she bestowed a banc diction. The pathetic young man came out of the woods, loitered past them again, and returned to the beach. Then Miss (i-annis remembered how late it was growing. She rose up and waked her father, who said he had not been so pleased with a view since he came to the reaside, He took off his hat to bow when they perted with the artist, But his daughter, full of delicate and benevolent plane, decided not to ask this lady to the hotel immediately ; and taking her father's elbow, walked him to the sands. “Pa,” she exclaimed, “1 want you to introduce the pathetic young man to me,” “But I don’t know him myself,” ob- jected Mr, Grannis. “You can know him. And, pa, if he really is out of a position, or suffering for money, you can start him in the right direction, cant you? ‘Mr. Grannis made a canlions pause, shakiog his head. “Tt isn't jast the thing,” he prosed, “for a young gun! to show so much interest in a young man.” Yet when they emerged from the rocks, and almost ran against the young man in question, this caniious father was 80 precipitate in yielding to her demand 1 hat slie colored with vexation. He touched his hat, half in apology for running so nearly ageipst Lim, and the pathetic young man touched his bat and they exchanged remarks about the roar of the surf, The young gen- tleman asked Mr. Grannis’ opinion as to whether a ceit2in vessel coming in was 8 ship or a schooner, speaking the elder gentleman’s name in a picely modulated voice. He was either anxious to continne with them, or tockit for gruuted taal they wished him to do so, and intioduowi himself, upon which the smiabhle ald merchant presented his dangh poling afterward that she seeaed to take iu ill part the very thing she had begged him to do, As for Miss Grannis she walked erect with tingling checks. The pathetio er, father had the water side. She mednt to work a change in the life of this young gentleman, and felt chagrined to have the least irregularity in their in. trodnotion, Bat of course poor pa, al- ways tird up to business, coud not know the nice requirements of sooiety. As they walked, however, her chagrin was soothed. Mr. Granger knew several friends of her father's. His behavior toward hersell wal perfect. He glanced at her delerentially, and absorbed her society with quiet pleasure, returning at intervals to his sad abstiaotion. Miss Grannis would have hated him bad he ceased to be pathetic. When they had nearly reached the hotel she vonchsafed him a few remarks { “JI have jost been with a friend of yours,” she said. Mr Geanger tmned his gasa toward her for explanation, “The lady who is sketching. She is a very purtionlar friend of yours, 1 be- lave.” “I never saw her before in my life” said Mr. Granger. * You surely are mistaken,” impetu- ously exclaimed Miss Graunis. “ Not ab all, begging your pardon,” sald Mr, Grauger, ** Bat she said she knew you very well indeed.” A lock of utter mystification came over the rentle man's face. “A cae of mistaken identity,” he suggested, “And your names are the same— Granger,” He looked searchingly at Miss Grag- Dis, “Singular coincidenca, I certainly | cannot remember having ever met her before. But I did mot look with par- ticular attention at her.” There was a hint of emphasis on “her "— pleasing, because it was slight, like the suggestion of a perfume. Mr, Giannis now took up the conversation, and his daughter left them in the hotel | veranda and went to her own room. She told herself that either the pa- thetio young man or the girl-widow in whom she had taken such an interest had made false statements. If he were not a recreant husband, how conld the pair be reconciled? Mrs. Granger claimad him with such assurance, and he had passed quite near enough to be recognized Qua the other hand, he de- nied sequaintance even with Mrs, Gran. | ger's face, with an air of candid uncon- cern. It punazled Miss Grannis so { much she could think of nothing but | the pathetic young man. She had read of twins and of doubles who had to bear the rics of these whom they dapli- cated. What gave him that sad look if there was nothing gnawing at his heart strings ? ‘* 1 wonder if the really was his wife,” | thought Miss Grannis, “I don't want to see her anymore while we stay here. It's a horrible business to be so puzzled about. If they really are strangers how uxjust I am to him I” There was a dance ending witha Miss Grannis bed no chaperon; her life had been an independent one, and her father knew little about a young girl's requirements. portunities do dance, and one of her { opportunities was Mr. Granger He waltzed elegantly, and in this exhilara- | ting motion appeared to forget the reoent sorrow which made him pathetie, Miss Grannis noticed his mother, a wiry old lady with white curls, watching them with attentive eye, | “Sle can’t help seeing we are well | matched,” thought the young lady. It occurred to her now for tne first | time that she might learn the cause of Mr. Granger's melancholy from his | mother, The young girl was exclusive jin her own fashion. She picked out | people in whom to fesl an interest, and | iguored the rest of the world. Daring her week's stay she had not lingered | emidst the gossip of the parlors, and | bad therefore obtained no information {about the people in the hotel except { what her eyes gave her. Bat she was eertain this youngish old lady was Mr | Granger's mother, because he always | brought her to the table, and exhibi od | the most dutifal behavior toward her. After the waltz Miss Grannis walked jon the verauds with the pathetic young man. It was a light night, the moon seeming to walk the ocean with a thousand glittering footprints, and time and scene had their effect on the two young people. Other couples were also promenading. 8 ill, Miss Grannis young man and decided now to sift snd classify him. She said he seemed pensive, He turned his luminous eyes toward her and assured her he was always a little pensive when extremely satisfied. This was a pice though ambignous beginning. But it gave her opportu- | nity to ask if he was always satisfied, { for his usual expression was sad, she thought. “Yes,” the pathetic young man re- plied; ** ne had as good reason as any- body to congratulate himself, Nobody was quite happy.” This was rank hereey to Miss Grannis, She said it was too dreadful to believe. If people could not be very happy, life would be unendurable. Mr. Granger said life was pretty prosy at times. Folks conld jog throngh it, though, if they weren't in a cramp for money. He cousiderrd being in a eramp for money the worst thing. Miss Grannis secretly decided that he had not much soul, or was fearfully eynioal. Bhe felt a certain hollowness in her pathetio young man, or unsatis. factory flatness, Jike the taste of squash to her palate. Still, he might be veil- ing his inmost nature, He sighed a little, and admired her fan. Within doors were scores of women sitting along tne wall, and no pathetic young man leaned over them pouring the mystic sadness of his eyes into their sympathetic countenances. Miss Gran- nis was enjoying herself, when the wiry old lady with light ecurls appeared ia the open window, quite near enough to put her hand on Mr. Granger's arm, “ Remember your dyspepsia, Harry, my love,” she remarked, in what Miss Grannis considered a detestable voice, “and how cooling off suddenly after exercise affects yon,” The pathetic young man was snddenly Jess expansive in his manner toward Mss Grannis, and replied to the mater- nal admonition that he would take care, Then he int1olneced the younger lady to Mrs. Granger. Mrs. Granger was rather acid. She roused a belligerent feeling in the girl's bosom. “1 don’t think it was very nice,” ruminated Miss Grannis, “to speak about dyspepsia, reminding people of their stomachs, She must be no end of fussy, and not at all like what I should pictnro his mother, Ihave a great mind to flict with him; it will torment her.” Revolving this unfilial plan she re. eniered the recom with Mr. Granger, aud ustantly piuaged pmoug the couples who were executing one undiguilisd pastime she { around the room, i nition about early hours. “Jast one more, pa,” decided Miss { Grannis. “After the next I'll have | plenty of time to get my beauty-slesp | “Which you certainly never need,” | over her, i ’ my wife again.’ Ho he admitted the fact at last. He i must be in the room. Miss Grannis | swept her eye along the wall, and saw tleman, but watching her, “* You appeared to ignore your wife { severely, to the pathetic young man, “You told ‘me she was a complete stranger to you." said a voioe in front of her. Miss Gran. nis felt startled as she brought her gaze bent on interrupting them. “I'm sure I haven't done anything to her,” thought the girl. “What makes her so disagreeabile ? I'd be pathetie too if I bad such a spy of a mother.” “What did yon mean, Hawry,” pur astringent tone, ‘‘by saying your wife was a complete stranger to youn ™ “I don't know,” replied the pathetic young wan, collapsing visibly. “I know aboat the separation,’’ said Miss Granois, determined not to be put looking her defiantly in the eye. “Why should you want to conceal it?" The elder lady's mouth drew inward with a convulsive twitch, She grew sallower under her cosmetics. Bul { putting her hand within the pathetic yoang man's free arm, she spoke with low and guarded emphasis : “We are not separated yet, and I don't think we shall be—by the most | brazen of flirts—while* my husband knows his own advantage. It you will exouse my husband now, we shall have the pleasure of wishing you good-night.” i The elderly Mrs. Granger then moved away with her pathetic young man. Miss Grannis soon after felt young Mrs. Granger take her arm and walk her toward the veranda. Bat the girl paused in the hall. “I know just what has happened,” said the artist, suppressing laughter, and makes constant soenes. It’s what he deserves for marrying her money.” “I thought she was his mother,” said { “ How many wives bas he, pray?” | **Oae only,” replied the artist; * but {as she is twica Lis sge, and equal in | watchfulness to twenty, he is most | thoroaghly wived ” { “You said he was your husband.” { *Itold you a fib," said the blonde | art‘st, with sharmiog candor. “I never { saw the man before this morning. Bat | you were bent on a romance for him, | 50 1 helped you to one. It might have | been so, you know, { build too much on appearances.” | “lthivk I sm,” sa'd Mies Grannis, | holding her head higher. “ Don't resent my little flotion seri: ously, I did it on the spur of the { moment, and came this evening almost | purposely to confess it, and to look { after that pathetic young man of yours.” {| “And you called yourself Mrs | Granger all the time !" denounced Miss { Grannis, laying her | buiustrade, while she bent fulcon looks i upon her acquaintance. | incidence. 1fit had been anything else turned to my maiden name. But you | oozy little widow I am. | thetic about me. I married a wan to | whom I am indebted for various lessons {in human natore. He died several |years ago. I am to be married again | next month, and sorrow is not preying : upon me at all.” Miss Grannis’ head was at this time reared so high, and her eyelids drooped {to anything else young Mrs. Granger | had to say. But after reaching the top of the stairs, her progress along the corridor became a flight, She knocked at her father’s door, and fell tumultuously on the bosom of his dressing-gown. “ What's the matter 7” exclaimed the old merchant, feeling compunction at “We must go right away—in the train that leaves to-night,” said Miss (Grannis, with half a sob, erushin: her pretty tulle dress upon his knees us sho made him sit down at a window, “Oh, pa, don’t keep me here another hour! I am all mixed up and everybody is deceptive and horrid I” “But I thought you were having the best of times, dancing so late. And there was that fat young man who looked ro melancholy.” “Pa,” exclaimed Miss Grannis, hold- ing him off with a savage shake, *“‘if I ever see anybody again with that far away sad look in the eyes I shall be- lieve it is dyspepsia. I shall avoid that person as a miserable human shell. Now, I'm going to pack. It's so com- fortubie,” she concluded, leaning her nead on his shonlder, “to feel such confidence in a dear old pa to-night, But never speak to me about any pathetic young man again,”—IHarper's Bozar, Curious Case of Somnambulism. A curious psychological study is affcrded by the case of a young lad of fourteen years, whose performances when asleep are certainly marvelous, The lad’s vame is Martin Frobischer, and it is said of him that from his earh- est boyhood he has been the subject of somnambulism. He bas a decided talent for drawing, in which art he has lately breome quite interested. This exercise has taken uch a hold upon the boy's mind that he 1ises in the night in a complete unconecions state, and will continue to work onan unfinished piece of drawing with as much skill and dex- terity as though he wero awske. The other nght he got np and drew a head from a cast which he had drawn on pap » during the previousday on the wall of his chamber. In conversation with the boy's father he said: “1 can nnderstand how a somnambalistic subject can go through certain mechanical motions, but it 18 inconceivable to me how the boy is able to draw with such perfect attention to every detail —to put expres. sion into an eye, for instance, and spirit mio a face. He exhibited some very clever drawings by the boy, partially dere, as he declared, while the little ellow was in this remarkable condition, He 8 very desirous that the case she ull ha ethe light of a scientific invest. ga- tion, Tae 8pi nish conquerors proposed an Nter oceunic canal by the way of Lake nicarzgoa ss early as 1564, Arabi Bey, Edward I, Wilson, an artist of Phi'a- delphia, reosntly returned from Egypt whers he frequently met Armabi Pasha, | thus desoribes the rebellions Egyptian : a tall, heavy faced man, { sullen, swarthy, with only a pretty clear | eye to soften the general harshness of and a black mustache to particiarly finely-carved H 8 logs are as unattractive as | BXpression | hide a not mouth, | his face i fruil for the rest of the body, bulky man, not built on the lobster pattern. His dress was slovenly on this oe and anything but attractive, “you would never notice him 1n a crowd means at the first blush.” power certain of the priests have over cated for the priesthood, While many oly orders. But the faot of having been nlace that foreigners cannot under stand. Arabi Pasha was brought up in | this college and isa firm believer inthe Koran, | a silk merchant of Cairo, who was edu. | eated in the sacred college with Arabi, fall into disputes over trivial matters, bounded, It made no however great the tormoil or heated the belligerents, Effendi Ha. daijah oomnld quell the | and scatter the participants by simply | raising his hand and speaking a few | words mildly. of the kindliest, his eye tender and his face benevolent, but bis | among the lowly was sufficient to in. | sure the profoundest respect, I knew he was not a priest, and in a friendly | way would endeavor to obtain from him {| the underlying reason of this manifest power, but he turned my inquiries away | with a smile and a wave of the hand, as | if it were not to be talked about, Bo + it is with Arabi, He was prepared for | the priesthood, and his followers invest him, in their religions zeal, with invin- cible power and probably sa red in- spiration.” — Philudelphia Times, Hints to Bathers, Chinere Bables, Let ns suppose that the solemn bath appointed for the third day is over which would seem to be almost a Chi ness baptism, and the mother to bx wonvalescent. If the offspring be a girl here will probably be no rejoicing, bat f a boy the mother will go in state to the temple frequented by her family sod offer thanks to Tien How, the qaeer { heaven, The only time it was our fortune while in China to see a native indy of any standing was on such an oe- cusion. A wife of Howqna, the son of the celebrated Hong merchant, hall gone to the temple of Honam to return thanks or the birth of a son. Theshrine in the emple which she was visiting had been ounded by the elder Howqaa in hon of his ancestors ; it is a lotcy hall, with roof open to the beams, closed in the rear and at the sides, but in front open ing with richly carved doors on a raised terrace surrounded by a stone balustrade wud overlooking a square turfed inclo ure containing two or three fine speei mens of the Chinese banyan, or Ficus ligiogr, and a pond of water covered wit: the broad green leaves and rose- 1 ped flowers of the lotus, the suecred plant of Buddha, who is often repre onted as seated on its open flower, Orossing this pond snd skirting it wore a bridge and gallery of massive stone carving corresponding with the the terrace. Un the opposite side of the gullery was seen the rear of another shrine, colored of a deep vermilign like the one in front, with its high arched roof sweeping down like toe curved outline of a Tartar tent (from whieh the Chinese style of architecture is supposed to be borrowed), and adorned with dragons, birds and dol. phirs in glused pottery of the brightest colors. Down either side stretched a line of gloomy cloisters communicating with the rest of the building. At one end of the terrace were two or three upon them, and surrounded by a con siderable party of Chinese, among whom we noticed several females standing, ev- as in China the servants are almost in- variably of the other sex. Knowing the scruples of the Chinese against ad mitting foreigners into the presence of the female members of their families, we turned back, and were on the point of leaving that part of the temple, no little disappointed at being unable to see the whole of the building, wher two members of the group, one of whom was a son of How- jus, came forward and requested us, if we wished, to continue our examination. We did so. The shrine at which the oosremony was going on had been decked with flowers, whilst on the long counter- like altur in front of the figure of the goddess, between the jars of porcelain and brouze half filled with sandalwood means do not depend upon your hand to determine the teperature, but nse a thermometer 2. Let the room be heated above sev- enty degrees, and made impervious to draughts. . 3. Extremes of temperature are sel- dom useful in health and may be danger. valids and convalescents, 4. Cool baths are not well borne by | any one when cold or fatigued —during the menstrual period, nor by wany per- sons not constitutionally robust. 5. Do not bathe soon after hearty eat. ing or drinking or when overheated; though a ecol plunge is vot Likely to be hurtful when somewhat overheated if it is of but a few minutes’ duration and follow d by brisk rabbiug. 6 Before leaving a warm bath add a little cold water, unless the bath is to burning, aud upon two square pedestals in front of the altar, were piled up pyr- amids of fruit and sweetmests. On either side of these pedestals were two of smaller sige, on each of which was placed a buok apparently of re- ligious service, and by its side a small wand and a hollow, red, kidney-shaped gourd, which when struck gavea hollow and pot unmusical sound, each blow upon it marking the repetition of a prayer. These, as it were, formed the lecterns of the officiating priests, and between them, taoing the central vase m the high altar, was a sushion and a mat on which the fair devotee might kneel and orm the koton, or ceremony of kneeling and touching the ground with the head at certain periods during the service. At ¢ither side of the central door of the 7. Neither in health or disease is | there any advantage in prolonging = bath more than fifteen minutes, and | tonic cold baths should consist mainly | in a plunge or a dip and a rub, 8 II reaction or a returning glow of warmth in the skin is not made sufficient in brisk rubbing and exercise, a warm of a mild stimulant may be necessary, 9. The head should as a ryle be wet | proportionately with the rest of the { body, so that the blood circulation may | be eque lized. 10. In fevers the sponge bath is | marely achieved by warm than by ould | water, with gilvered paper formed into boxes about the siza and shape of steel-pen boxes, and emblemationl of burs of myeose silver, which is burned as the conclusion of the ceremony as an offer- ing to the Qaeen of Heaven, On passing out of the shrine, still ac- companied by the two Chinese who had joined us, we passed near the bangute- 10g party, when the lady rose, supported by two of her servants, and, crossing her hands, saluted us in the Chinese fashion, Of her besuty I can say nothing ; neither my companion nor myself could remem- her anything save a face painted a la Chivoive, and hair tied up in the usual tea pot form, dressed with magnificent pearls, jade ornaments, and natural flowers. The golden lilies, as the in- babitants of the flowery kingdom call he crippled feet of the higher olasses | ness aud exhanstion, relief is often af. i make it more agreeable. | wetting another, and covered with a dry flannel cloth. either on the whole body or locally. 15. In use of local applications for Dr. Foote’s Health Monthly. The Judge and the Tanner, About thirty years ago Judge Cincin- nitus Peeples found it necessary to or- der a tanner out of his law cflicein Hall county. The tanner was a poor, shift less fellow, named Wilson, and shortly after drifted to Atlanta, where he se. cured work at fifty centsa day, In 1863 Judge Peeples went to New York on im- ortant financial business for the Ctate, in was directed to the great banking house of R. T. Wilson & Co. He sent in his card and after waiting a while was ushered into an elegant office. A fine-looking man introduced himself as Wilson and reminded the judge that be wos the poor tanner he had ordered out of his office many years ago. Judge Peeples, thoroughly astonished, never dreamed that this ex tanner was at the head of the bank, but thought he was robably related to the proprieto: and Pe geoured a clerkship. Mr. Wilson invited the judge to dine with him, and at 0 o'clock the judge found himself in one of the finest houses on Fifth avenue. While await- ing his host a superb lady entertained bim, and Judge Peeples was over- whelmed withvtheconroiousness that the day laborer had really become the great banker. He then became uneasy for fear he should drop some allusion tothe humble origin of the husband of tle splendid lady to whom he wus talking. At length she said: ‘‘Judge Peeples, where do you think I spent the two happiest years of my life?” The judge thought of Paris, Sara oga and Vinios,, but was hesitating, when Mrs, Wilson said: « Why at Papa Wilson's log cabin in Hall county, where my husband took me when we were first married.”—A¢- lanta Constitution, The great seal of Great Britain and Ireland iv affixed to yellow wax for English documents, red for Scotoh, ard green for Irish. broidered robes, attracted curattention far more than the eyes and features, which doubtless cughit to have been our only eonsideratior It is after this festival-—not always, of course, celebrated with the magnifi- cence we have described that the rela. ives of the child pre~ent it either with plate or bangles of siiver or gold, on which are inseribed the characters sig vifying long life, honor and felicity, It “milk name,” or the pet name by which it is known in its family, the name by which it is known to others be‘ng only given to it at the completion of its posed to commence, Wasted Heroism, If DeLong had died for an eternal vonld spring the seed of the martyr, the diary found by his dead body would not be less heart-breaking, but it would have n most tremendous power, As it ig—u bere is the use of all this? This little company, starving, sick, frozen, lying, strrggle day after day over huge tracts of endless snows. The winds {rive them, the sunshine blinds them I'he surgeon's knife outs away parts of their frozen bodies. They d each other over these vast and cruel fields. [hey break through the ice on frozen lakes, Their food sickens them, and then it fails, Far off in these Arctic regions, one by one they lie down and die, and with broken voices the group, rowing smaller and smaller, reads the service, not for the dead, but for the ick. 'They bury their dead under the oo in the water, but at last, too weak o even do that, they stagger with them ut of eight and lay them down, And what do these heroic men—Franklin and ‘Kane and De Long, and all this company dead in the snow—leave but a memory of bravery, of heroism, all spent in a frutile search for a shadow |—Owr Continent. Dyspepsia Among Farmers, Professor Goodman says: Aside from other evils, dyspepsia is only too com- mon among farmers and families, when one would think they are the very per- sons to be free from it, living as tuey are supposed to do in the open air and without the harrassment of exciting husiness ard confinement to close labor, The med cal experts declare that the great prevalence of this complaint and affections of the liver among farmers North and South, West and East, are owing mainly to too great consumption of salt meats, pork especially, bad y baked bread, and the constant use of the fiying pan--an American institution co extensive with the spread eagle and star- spangled hanner| ® BEGGARS AND TRAMPS, some of the Ingenious Tricks Roseried to by Well-Kuawn Phil delpaia Characters ~iuw the Yagubeuds Live, While the more aristoeratis beggars and tramps are taking their yearly som- mer sojourn at the sea ide and enjoying the oool delights of the briny bre 2s, their towp-abiding brethren, says the Philadelphia Times, are not by any means having such « bad time of it as any one unsoquainted with the business might suppose, The ordisary man takes his two or three weeks' vacation and then returns to the simmering house sud feet-blisterin ; pavements for the rest of the hot season. The men- dicant, however, has his time at hisown disposal, and can practice his avocation in the cool parts of the day and remuin in the park or a pleasant cellar when the sun 1s at its height. This city is the home of about five hundred persons who have no visible means of support, but who depend on casual charity for a subsistence. These come under the head of begears, In addition to this number there is a regular floating population cf sbout seven hundred, namely, tramps whose stay in the city rarely exceeds one week. The native beggars, whose methots are various, for the past fow years have been steadily decreasing. Three years ago & census was taken which showed that they numbered sixteen hundred. This remarkable diminution is said to be due to several causes. First, the steady opposition and legal action taken against begging by different societies, smong which the charity organization has been prominent, Secondly, the general sentiment against indisorimi- uate almsgiving which now pervades the community. ‘this is shown by the fact that a pleader for charity who for. merly reaped a rich harvest in coin of the realm, instead of this now collects in 8 day several ( :ires of cards on which ar printed notices advising bim if he is » bona fide starveling to apply at the office of a ward society, which, after thoroughly investigating his case and becoming convinced that he is de- serving, will see to his wants, The third resson assigned by those who know for the decrease of the sub- jeots of pauperdom is remarkable, and of a nature likely to conflict with the average understanding. It is that the relief by the board of guardians, which formerly cost $50,000 a year, bas been done away with. This sam is said to have been mcst swallowed up by per- sons who were able to work and who wonld not. Since its abolition they have had to, The last and possibly the best reason is that the general prosper. ity of the city has been «{ late on the rise. With regard to the beggars them- selves, a great many adopt the bravch of the trade of blind men or alleged blind men. Theso reap the barvests, often bringing home from $4 to §5 as the re sult of what they term a day's work, Bometimes they have really lost their sight, but as a general rule*they are! merely sfilioted with some disease | which, while materially affecting the | appearance of the optics, does not to! any extent encroach on their sphere of | usefalness. The “twilight beggar” is | just about this time of the year thinking | of opening an scconnt with the savings bank, so great are his earnings. This gentleman, or child, as he more fre quently is, just abont the supper bour | knocks at the door or rings tne bell of sorae fashionable house and with | a tearful face asks assistance, not only for himself, but for his mother with consumption, his father with a broken arm and all his various sisters and cousins and aunts suffering from every known disease. Asa rule he is successful, for he chooses the most op- portune time for his visit, The hearts of the inmates are soft jant at that par- ticular hour, becanse thay have just been or are in the process of being gas- | tronomically satisfied. The best reason of all, however, is that he cannot be ref to some charitable society, as he pleads that their offices are closed. | Sometimes he is told that if he leaves | his address the proprietress of the bouse will call on him that evening with plentiful supplies of the good things of this life. Immediately his abode is inquired after he sees that to get anything in that quarter is hope- lesa and gives an address post remote from his neighborhood Very often the number tendered is one which does not exist,and as a curions coincidence it is related by Dr. J. W. Walk, secretary of the society for or- ganizing charity, that in two instanoss numbers were given on Fairmount ave- nue which if extant at sll would be in the very center of the penitentiary. In some oases nun bers are given where there are churches or police stations Besides the ordinary class of beggars who beg on the street there is the gate. beggar, who is usually a deserving child or woman. Sue applies at the gates for cold pieces, which as a general thing she eagerly devours. Bome of these, however, are regularly chartered by the proprietors of emporinms on Alafka and St. Mary streets, and what they collet 1s assorted and sold at a very cheap figure per plate. Taking the be, gus all around, they make a good deat of money and are often thrifty. It does not pay them, however, to wear their urseson their sleeves, snd their di- spidated appearances are merely put on. Dr. J. Walk, speaking yesterday in regard to the charity organization of which he is general secretary, said that the idea of that body is that ip an en- lightened community beegiog ‘should be abolished. The able bodied mendi- cants should be placed in the house of correction and the sick in hospitals. Nearly all the beggars have fixed abodes and regular hunting grounds. Wilhelmina Roussean, a deformed French woman, who hawks pencils on Arch street, near Thirteenth, is one of the most incorrigible of the class who usually bog under the pretext that they are doing bu«iness, Her stock in trade consists of three lead pencils and a small ssucer. in which she often collects as much as £3 in a very short time with- out giving any thing in return. Her case has often been referred to the French consul, but he refuses tosand her home. a8 he claims that she cannot be classed with beggars. It is hopeless to prose. cute her, and she will have to be leit in future to her own devices. Philadel. phia does not boast of any millionaire beggars, like Lordon or New York, and if az~ of them possess money they keep it remarkably quiet. Antonio Oidelia, a blind Italian, who trades on his afllie- tion, it is said owns a farm of two hun- dred acres. Ho resides on South Seventh street, in the neighborheod of a batch of mendicants who bave small accounts in savings banks, There is a man named Henry Stirling, a well known imposer on physicians, His only capital is a rare afll ction. He hes besides imposition been guilty of tricks to get money which have caused the police lately to be on his trail, Wil- liam Engard, who changes his residence every tew days, is tolerably known as a begging letters writer, and he indites more than half the epistles in nse in the city. He is gifted with a versatile pen and a happy, approprinte style Pat Murphy, who reaps harvest of dimes and dollars in the Twentieth ward, is said to have accumulated plenty of wr 4 money through parading the streets with a glib tongue and plenty of as surance. There is » wide field for investigation when one comes to tramps, are nearly all unskilled laborers and quite all intemperate, They com life as oarpenters, bricklayers or mechanics, at which they were not suscesses, and hea Sate tame a period of Sanitient epression they were naturally t discharged. They tried probably to got work, and, after failing, they dn oto idle habiis and graduaily became what ( y choose to walk on chiefly the bustle and passing trafic touches the romantic part of tion. They steal rides either by laying down fiat «1 the tops of freight cars 0 standing on the buffers. A great are annually killed or maimed their choice of this mode of As soon as u tramp arrives in Philadel. phis be looks around for a goad Aquire meal, after eating which be is a geutle- plishing great thinss for liberty Bouth Ameries, saddened by the death and imprisonment of his comvamions, and w with his personul sufferings, Garibaldi was standing one day on thg deck of his ship, w the women who came tothe shore for water, one suddenly shtracted his suties R u} gave ors,” says “to on shore, and the house command success. A man” (her band) “invited me to enter. I should have done so without hus invitation. I bad seen him previously. And to the young woman [ said: ‘Thou must be mine by a bond which only death can dissolve.’ I had found a treasure, for bidden, indeed, but of what value! If there was blame it was wholly mine, And blame there was! Two souls were indissolubly bound together, snd the beart of an inrocent man was broken | Bat she is dead. He is svenged— avenged indeed! And I acknowledged my sin on that day when, striving stid to detain her with me, I felt her failing pulse, and sought to eatch her feeble breathing; but I the hand and kissed the lips of the dead and wept the tears of despair.” From this peculiar dseeription of his courtship, if so that could be ealled fash. "8 way of love was very similar to bis way of warfare. * He took Anita Rivierss, tays Ricciardi, “in preity munch the same manner that he did Palermo,” snd however little it might bave been ex- pected from such a commencement to the end of poor Aunita’s life she was faithful to her hero. She bore hm three children : Menotti, born in 1840 ; Teresita, in 1845 ; and Riociotti, in 1874. The White Man's Big Moon, Mr. H. E. Thompson, electrician, of St. Paul, bas jast returned from the Missouri, where he went to mount sa electric light on the Rosebud, of the Coulson line of Missouri and Yellow- stone steamers. Me. Thompson tells some interesting stories cf the effects of the white man’s electric iieht medicine on the noble red man at Fort Berthold. Ujpon arriving at the a large assort- ment of redskins, ir sisters, their cousins and their sunts were s=semblad on the shore in fine shape. While con. tomplating the new-faogled Ii which seemed to eclipse the full moon, Mr. Thom turned the light full upon the gaping crowd with a weird and picturesque « ff ct. The astonished aborigines were paralyzed fora moment, and they set up a dismal chant, lay down and rolled over and pawed up the bush, acd made the ambient sir trem with their antics and articulations They were finally assared that the big medicine of the white man was harm. less, and then they assumed an attitude of quiescent hewilderment. They congregated upon the shore and gaged upon the illuminated sarround. ings with mingled emotions of ase snd admiration, expressing ther feelings in deep, guttural accents, Ata wood-yard up the river the light was tarned in ful force upon the pile, and the dusky * owner sought a hiding-place, from which he could not be mduoced to emerge to negotiate with the clerk for the sae ot his stock on hand. He, however, ventared to hold up his hand with three fingers unfl xed. to indicate that 83 per cord would he the trook, The machine mounted e R sebad was 0,000 candle power, and it is no wonder the superstitions natives were stricken with terror.—8t. Paul (Minn) Press. The Diet Fiend, There is a man who has made up his mind to keep his health good by eating the right sort of food in proper gquan- titied and with the right kind of masti- ostion. Resolution sits upon his brow, his eyes turn scornfully on his fellow men and he deliberately and with mal- ioe aforethought sits with sucerbly folded arms in the restaurant, painfully working his month as if he were a type of Sampson's celebrated jawbone en. gaged in the duty of slaying a bit of brown bread. He becomes a nuisance to his landlady, or Lis wife; he fish, which he eats for his brain, and struggles in the morning with harsh oatmeal and sour baked ap les, chewing, chewing, chewing, while casting con- temptuous glances around upon the dis- gusted people who are not so good and ara nob going to be =o healthy as he is going tobe. He even turns his toes out, abhors butter snd walks on the healthiest side of the street. His ohil- dren receive no candy and his wife re- ceives a scolding because she does not live up to the laws of health, He becomes pale, fretful and morose, and! says of a healthy man, “ He live: for his stomach,” while he is dying for his,— New York tierald. In using baking powder be sure not to nse too much. Besides beinz ua. healthful it spoils:the delicate flavor of cake and of biscnit, It isa temp- tation to put in a little more than that fit tip £ ; i] i 288 iH 2 i i g £ i ¢ i i i Be i § iN i | EfeL des red lightness, but it ought to be resisted. If you fre, vot yourowa cake muker, im this uber," press thie 44% wpe yous
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers