oa
Scientific Hints,
The sum of $3,650,000 is now invest,
wd in the manufacture of iron in the
Birmingham (Ala) district.
Two hundred and forty-four earth-
quakes, it is stated, are known to have
occurred during 1881, of which 86
were in winter, C1 in autumu, 56 in
spring, and 41 in sammer.
A lacquer for steel may be made of
10 parts of clear mastle, 5 of camphor,
15 of sandarac and 5 of elemi gums
dissolved in pure alcohol, filtered and
applied eold. This varnish is trans
parent.
Unripe grapes contain an unusual
large quantity of extractives, acids,
ash and phosphoric acid, and a small
proportion of alcohol, the extractives
having, as & rule, a sort of gelatinous
@onsistency.
The blood of crabs and other crus-
‘taceans has been proved by M. Fred-
ericq to have the same saline constitu.
tion and the same strong and bitter
taste as the waters they inhabit; it
has not the same constitution as the
water, and thus shows a marked su-
periority over that of erabs.
The post-mortem examination of a
mulatto woman who died recently in
Cincinnati revealed a brain weighing
61 wunoces, There are on record but
two brains heavier than this—that of
Cuvier, weighing 64.33 ounces, and
Abercrombie’s, which weighed 63
ounces, The mulatto was not consid-
ered bright intellectually, yet is de-
scribed as becoming late in lire,
“‘thoughtful and reserved,” He had
been aslave,
A new method of storing grain is
proposed in air-tight cylinders or bins
of sheet iron, to be sealed after a par-
tial exhaustion of the alr. It issaid
that wheat, flour and bread so stored
“@r seven months have been found, in
excellent condition, and that taking
into account the security of the grain
against dampness, fermentativn, at-
tacks of insects and large vermin, fire
and other risks, when sealed up in a
partial vacuum, the new plan is more
economical than ordinary storage in a
granary.
A series of tests at Bochun, Ger-
many, to determioce the values of
bituminous eoal in the making of
steam, show that washed slack, hold-
ing 18 per cent. of water and 99 pur
cent, of ash, evaporated 5.7 pounds o
water per pound of fuel; while the
same coal, with only 3 per cent. of
walter, maande from 8 to 8.5 pounds ef
steamu. Making due allowance for
moisture by reducing to a standard of
like quanties of coal, free from moisture,
there is found 10 be a direct loss by
using wet coal, of 14 per cent.
Gordon’s new huge dynamo-electrie
anschine has been tried at East Green-
wich, England, and has proved a
great success. It maintained 1300
Swan lampagin a state of incandes-
cence, whilahat a fraction of its fall
power was called into exercise. The
inventor believes that only with ger-
erators of electricity capable of sup-
plying from 5000 to 10,000 incandescent
cal electric illuminstion ean be solved,
In the machine just tried the induced
colls remain fixed, while tne electro-
magnets revolve.
The celebrated Gbelin Factory was
originally intend d for dyeing, and
od dyers of that time, were its found.
ers. These two men appear to have
become famous by reason of their hav-
ing introluced into Paris a celebrated
scarlet, Their workshops were estab-
lished on the banks of a small stream
called the Bievre, near to Parise. Like
many enterprises regarded by the
people of that time as eccentric, these
workshops received a nickname, and
ander the appellation of the “Gobelin
Folly” they continued till 1667, when
the whele property and plant were
purchased by the King at the sugges-
tion of Colbert. The works were then
converted into a royal factory for all
kinds of artistic articles of painting,
such as sculpture, designing and
tapesiry weaving. The era of the Go-
belin tapestries then begun, and they
rapidly scqubied deserved celebrity.
“The Disadvantages of Rapidity,
By the way, Ballard Smith telle a
story of a North Carolina wedding.
It runs this way : It was in the Caro-
Jina backwoods ; a country coupie and
-gountry person. Though a Baptist,
the minister wore an old surplice,
When he had finished the ceremony
he said: **And them'uns who God
hath joined—'' "Stop thar, parson,”
sald the groom ; ‘don’t say them’uns,
say these’uns!” “John,” sald the
parson, “I tech you at school and I
‘@ay them’uns !"” *“These’uns,’” shout.
««d the groom, drawing his pistol. The
parson seeiug the movement, fired
through his surplice and the groom
droppeo dead, winging the parson as
he went down. There was u lively
fusilade of perhaps thirty shots. When
the smoke cleared away a half dozen
men were on the floor, The bride
peeping over the pulpit to which she
had fled for refuge, gazed mournfully
on the scene and sald : “Them a-self-
cockin’ pistols is & playin’ hell with
ay prospecks!”
Large buttons are not s&s much em
. ployed for outside wraps as they were
i last year,
Carradine’s Love.
Carradine sat alone at his easel,
painting; and as he painted he
thought E ght years before when he
was a poor and struggling boy, just
entering on that race which must be
run by every aspirant to art and its
honors, there happened to him some-
thing which neither time nor toil had
been able to ¢fface from his memory.
As he was passing along the street a
wreath of ragrant roses suddenly fell
on his head, and, looking up in won-
der, he beheld, reaching out from
the embroidered draperies of an over-
hanging window, s child with fairy-
like proportions, with great, dark eyes
and long, curling black locks, who
steod smiling and throwing him
kisses from her curved lips, colored
like a pomegranate. While ehe still
gazed a nurse had come forward and
drawn the child away: the curtains
were clossd, and he saw the little croa-
ture no more.
Such was the vision that the artist
had carried so long in his memory ; in
bis memory only, for he had no sec-
ond glimpse of the child. That very
day an accident oceurred which kept
him & prisonar in his room for some
weeks, and when next he went out
the house was empty, and a placard
with great flaring letters announcing
it for sale stared him in the face, from
the same window ia which the little
white-robed elf had stood waving
her hand and smiling to him. In
course of time other faces appeared
thers, but, they were strange faces,
and among them was never the one
for which he looked.
Now, as Carradine sat painting
alone, he thought ef all this; of the
struggle that had ended at length in
success; of his hard unfrianded boy-
hcod, and of the beautiful child with
her fragrant rose-crown which had
seemed almost like a prophecy. That
rose wreath, dry and withered now,
was all that was left to him of the fair
vision, but when the morning, in
turning over an old portfolio, he had
come upon it by chance, it spoke to
him of that by- gone day jast as elo
quently as when its blossoms were
fresh and fall.
“Eight years ago,” hesaid, thought-
fully, letting the shriveled circlet slip
through his fingers slowly. **sShe must
be sixteen now-—if she lives, If? No,
I do not doubt her living presence—
somewhere. I wonder where she is
now, and what she is like at sixteen?"
With that he placed the wreath be-
side his easel and began to paint. The
face as It grew on the canvas, pre
sentad a young girl in the dewy morn-
ing blush of first youth, with shadows
in the great dark eyes, and a half
smile about the bright curved lips
like an embodied summer sun shower.
It was thus that the artist pictured
his ideal of the child. woman, whose
infantile look and smile for eight
long years had been his own dream of
love,
Carradine had not had an easy life,
An orphan from his earliest years poor
anda unfriended, he had striven hard
for the means to gratify that inherent
idolstry for art which was always
clamoring to find expression in form
and coloring. He had fought and he
hed won ; but now, at 26, he stood
in the place which he had gained for
himself almost a2 much alone at the
very heart as he had been eight years
before, when the child’s gift came to
him as a prophecy.
It was not that he was friendless,
There were men who liked and sought
him, women who would have gladly
taught him to forget his lonliness in
their affection. But though his nature
responded readily to any kindness,
there was one chord, deeper than all,
that remained untouched ; and, from
the sweetest glances, his thoughts
went back to the unknowns child that
had smiled down on him so long
Ago.
The ideal head became his great
source of enjoyment, and a dreamy
softness shaded his dark -gray eyes, as
line by line and tint by tint took him
back into that past, which, all lifeless
as it was, seemed to him, in those mo-
ments, more real than the busy present,
Yet now, In reviewing that one bright
vision of his memory, it was not so
much the lovely child that he saw, in
fancy, as the beautiful girl whose face,
with fuller depth and sweetness, look-
ed out at him from his own canvas.
Instinctively, he hardly knew why,
he disliked to work on this picture in
any other presence, and he devoted to
itonly his hours of solitude. Bo it
happened that it was nearly finished
when, by some chance, a friend dis
covered him bending over it, too ab-
sorbed to notice any approach. As
the door opened, Carradine rose hastl-
ly, turning his easel to the wall, 80 as
to concesl the face upon it. This little
stratagem, however, wus destined to
ve of no avail, Having been marked
by the intruder—one of those cordial,
well-meaning people, good-natured to
a degree, but with little delicacy of
perception—the setion at once aroused
his curiosity.
“Aha, master painter,” he sald, with
a Inugh, “let us see what it is that you
work at by yourself till it steals away
your eyes and ears, Only one peep!”
With that, he aid his hand on the
frame, and, receiving no forbidding
word from Carradine, turned it around.
The next monent he was loud in
praise,
“But who is it, Carradine? Ifitis a
portrait tell me where to find the orig-
inal, and I will, ifitls a seven days
J urney !”
Carradine smiled.
“ITI msyelf knew where to find
such an orizinal, I should not be here
to tell, you my good friend,” he an-
swered, evasively.
“Oh a fancy sketch,” sald the other,
misled, as the ar ist had desired, “I
might have saved myself the trouble
of asking. Noreal fl:sh and blood
face ever looked like that—'he more
shame to nature, I say! Of course
you will exhibit it, Carradine?’
“No.” answered the painter quiet.
ly.
“No!” repeated the other in sur-
prise. ‘But, my dear fellow, you
must, or I shall belr y your secret,
and you will have a swarm of visitors,
worse than a plague of E_y,t, let in
upon you.”
Carradine hesitated. A chance
word in his friend's speech had sug-
gested a possibility that made his
heart leap in spite of sober reason.
“You are right,” he said, *'I shall
send the picture for exhibition. It
will be better so,”
After his visitor had left him alone
again, Carradine bent long over his
easel, g zing into the lovely, upturned
face, until it began to fade into the
gather ng twilight,
“Uf—if!"” he murmurcd to himself,
nalf unconsciously. *‘‘But it cannot
be. Yet I will send it—and per-
haps"
And so the picture was sent, in due
time ; and it seemed almost as if Car-
radine’s soul had gone with it and
drawn him to follow. Hur after
hour, and day after day, he sat In the
gallery, scrutinizing eagerly every
face amid the visitors, whom taste
or fashion had brought to look at the
now celebrated artist's latest success,
Every night he went away unsatis fi«d,
and every morning he returned with
hope springing afresh in his heart,
Still, the object of his search, what-
ever it may bave been, does not ap-
pear and one day, discouraged sat
last, he resolved to go no mor: on
80 fruitless an errand. Shutting him.
gelf in his studio, he began to paint,
but, strive as he would, he could com-
mand neither hand nor fancy. Final
ly, tired of repeated failure, he aban-
doned work, and yield .«d to the im
pulse whieh drew his steps in the
customary direction,
When he entered the small side
room in which his picture hung, he
found but two per.ons within, a yung
man and a girl,
Carradine could not see the faces of
these two, but, with an earnestness
for which he was at a loss to account,
he followed their retreating figures as
taey moved slowly toward his plo
ture. But the next moment an excla-
mation of sstonishment burst from
the lips of the young man.
“Why, here is your perirait, Lelia!
What does it mean? Who car the
painter be?"
With that, he hurried out to pur.
chase a catalogue. Carradice ad-
vanced quickly to the girl.
“J am the painter,” he said.
She turned and looked at him with
one steady gaze from those glorious
eyes that had hsuntel his visons for
so many years. Then shewpoke:
“You painted that picture?
how 1"
“From remembrance,’ he answered.
“It was my only tribute to the little
unknown princess who crowned me
once with roses. Does she, too, re-
member it?”
For 8 moment doubt was in her
face ; but as he looked fixedly at her
it vanished in certainty. A smile
just touched the bright lips.
“It was you, them, on whom I
forced my roses? a princess who
gave away honors unssked. How
often I have wondered sinoe——""
She stopped, turned to the canves,
and added abruptly, “Bat I was a
child then ; and hera-"'
“Here you are s woman,” sald
Carradine, completing the unspoken
sentence. ‘Is it so Lard to under-
stand ? The same power that kept
the child in my heart showed me into
what she would ripen.”
She did not look at him now, but at
the pioture, as she ssked in a low
voice, “And whom am I thank for
such an honor 7"
“My name w Hubert Carradine,”
ha answered, and saw at once that it
was no unfamiliar word to her, “And
yours? Through all these years your
face has hauuted me always, but your
name 1 never knew."
She hesitated s moment, then
turned to him,
“You never knew my name? Then
think of me still se you have thought
of me through sll these years,” she
sald, a half smile lingering about her
mouth, but never lighting the great
dark that was shaded by subtle sad
ness, The look, the tone, transported
Carradine beyond all remembrance of
place or circumstance, into the unreal
realm of imagination in which hi
wish was supreme ruler.
| “1 have thought of you always as
and
my life and my love,” he said, half
unconsciously, his dreamy, deep gray
eyes glowing upon her face. Bhe
blushed suddenly, and then paled in
an Instant. Just then her former
companion entered the room.
am ‘Lelia Auverney,” she eald
hastily, “and this is Cell Wynd-
ham, my--my betrothed husband.”
Nout auother word wus said, As the
young man approached, Carradine
fell back a step and loosed at the two,
H 3 was a fair, handsome face, so lit-
tie marked as yet by time that it
would be hard for an unpracticed eye
to conjecture with what lines the
shaping character would yet stamp it,
Neverthele 5, with one keen gsz : Car:
radine estimated both present and fu-
ture,
She sald a few low-spoken words to
her companion, who presently moved
toward Carradine, and addressed him,
“I have the honor of speaking to
Mr. Carradine, the paluter of this pic
ture?"
Carradine bowed without speaking.
“Will you pardon me for asking if it
is a fancy sketch?” continued Mr.
Wyndham.
“Partly so, but suggested by the
face of a little girl,” answered the
artist,
“Bat the likenes: 18 80 very strik-
ing !”? muttered the young gentleman.
“I must have it at any rate. Of course
you will part with it—at your own
price 2"!
“The picture is not for sale,” sald
Carradine, quietly still regarding the
young man with that cool, steady
gaze which had already caused him to
betray & hesitation, almost confu-
sion, very unlike bis usual easy conti-
dence. He seemed to haye an instine-
tive knowledge that the artist was
measuring him, sud to shrink from
thal measurement with unconscious
dread.
Carradine saw Lellia Auvernay once
more before she retarned to her home
in a distant town, Ther he took his
picture from the academy walls, and
hung it in his studio, wher: his eyes
eould fi ad it whenever he looked away
from his work. For ne did not give
up work ; yet, among themselves his
friends pronounced him an altered
man, end marvelled what had caused
so subtle a difference. Always quiet,
he now seemed to live in an ideal
world of his own ; and, whatever he
might occupy himself with, there was
that in his manuer which appearad to
imply that it was only a temp rary di-
ver ion until the coming of some event
for which he was waiting.
Bo passed half a year, at the end of
which there came a letter to Carrn
dine. It was very brief, but it was
enough to sssure him of thst which
he had bsen almost unconsciously ex-
pecting.
The letter was from Leilia Auver
nay. He went to her at once. Bhe
met him with a Bughing light in her
eyes such as he had not seen there
when she stood in the gallery beside
her betrothed husband ; a light which
recalled the merry child who had
smiled down on him so long ago.
“Mr. Carradine,” she said, “I told
you that my fortune was gone, but I
did not tell you how utteriv it had
been swept away. 1 am nothing bet
ter than a beggar. Will you take me
for one of your students, for charity's
sake 7"
He looked gearchingly
smiling face,
“And Mr. Wyndham ?"" he asked
in a low voice,
Sne laughed without so much as a
flush of emotion.
into her
rest of my possessions. Did I vot say
that I had lost everything ? You see,
Mr. Carradine, that I am not of as
much worth as my picture,’’
The words, as she sald them, did
not seem bitter, He took her hands.
“Leilin,” he sald ‘does your loss
make vou unhappy 7"
“Do I look so 7" she asked, gayly
“As for the marriage, it was my
father's wish, and to gratify his dying
request 1 consented—bafore 1 knew
my own heart-'' Here a q tick, vivid
color shot into her cheek, but she went
on. “There never was love on my
side ; and on his—well, money is more
than love with some natures, I do
not wish to blpme him."
Carradine’s grasp tigntened on her
hands,
swer put a bar between, when 1 spoke
words that were surprised out of my
heart. Would it be so now, if I should
say them once more? My love, my
life, will you come to me 2?"
“Wil { come!” she repeated, look.
ing up in his eyes and drawing nearer,
until his arms silently foldsd about
her,
And so Carradine found his love at
last,
They Would Meet as Friends.
Ex-SBecretary Evans tells a story at
his own expense about a small donkey
which he sent out to his country seat
for the use of his children. Oaoe of his
little daughters, golng out with her
nurse to admire the animal in the
paddock, was sorely distressed when
the donkey lifted up its voice and
brayed doiefully. ‘Poor thing! Poor
thing!" exclaimed the sympathetic
child—but suddenly brightening up
she turned to her nurse and sald:
“Oh! I'm so glad, Papa will be here
on Haturday, and then it won't feel so
lonesome.”
The Law,
Beeont Legal Decisions.
HusBanND AND WIFE —An attorney
at law sued a husband for legal ser-
vices rendered to his wife in conduct
ing a criminal proceeding sgainst
him for an assault and battery upon
her, snd for defending her against a
charge ol common drunkenness, pre
ferred by him, and recovered jig.
ment, The defendant appealed to the
Bupreme Judicial Court of Masgschu-
sette. In this case (Conant vs, Burn-
ham) Judge C, Allen, in the opinion,
sald : “The husband is bound to fur-
nish his wife with whatever is neces
sary to her reasonable er) yment of
life and liberty ; and legal services
cannot be excluded from the term
‘necessaries.’ There may be occasions
when such services are absolutely
essential for the relief of a wife's phys
ical or mental distress. This cas”
supplies an fllustration. The husband
has committed an assault and battery
upon his wife and instituted sgainst
her a criminal prosecution. What
was she to do? Isit to be held that
the woman, ignorant of legal rules
and metheds of proceeding, without
money and without friends, not only
ber husband but encountering his ac
other necessaries,
her to prosecute her hushand for as-
the Magistrate, upon her verbal come
plaint, to 1s:ue a warrant and inves:i
gate the case.
services before the Magistrate, there
other charges the judgment is sffirm-
ed.”
Trust FUuND.—~A by his will gave
fund :
income shall not be anticipated by
assignment,”
condition so
single. 8. On her death or marriage,
children. A creditor of B filed a bill
in equity to compel the trustees to pay
over to him froma the income the
amount of his claim. In this case
(Broadway National Bank vs. Adams)
Justice, Morton, in the opinion, said :
tee to do what the will forbids unless
testator are unlawful,
rule subjects such an income to the
several of our Blates have adopted that
rule—Rhode Island, North Carolina
of Pennsylvania, Ver aont, Kentucky
and the Bupremas Couit of the United
States have rejected it. The question
is an open one in this State. The
founder of this trust was the absolute
owner of the properiy left by him and
he had the full right to dispose of it as
he saw fit, and his Intentions ought to
be carried out until they are agminst
public policy. The only ground upon
which we can hold the restriction
gainst public policy is that it defrauds
the creditors of the beneficiary. Itis
argued that investing a man with ap-
arent wealth tends to mislead credi
tors and to induce them to give him
credit. But creditors have no right to
rely upon property held as this is held
and give credit to the beneficiary upon
the basis of an estate the only income
of which is declared to be inalienable,
By the exureise of proper diligence
they can ascertain the nature and
extent of his estate, especially where
all wills and most deeds are spread
upon the record.”
DEBTOR AND CREDITOR~— FRAUD. —
B was sued by the United States in
the United States Circuit Court for
the district of Oregon, and judgment
was recovered against him for $35,228,
and $2821.60 as costs and disburse
ments. Pending the trial B confessed
udgments to several persons, and the
Judgments, with the claims of the
United States and the mortgage debt
of B tar exceeded the walue o! his
property. The confessions were given
on fictitious claims, except one for
$348 82,and were made for the purpose
of hindering, delaying and defraud.
ing the United Stes In the collection
of its claim. Proceedings were taken
to eoilect the jadgment of the United
Biates, clalm of priority being made
under Sections 3466 snd 3467 of the
United States Revised Statutes. The
former declares : “Whenever any per
son indebted to the United States is
insolvent, or whenever the esiate of
sny deceased deblor in the hands of
the executors or administrators is in-
sufficient to pay all the debts due from
the deceased, the debts of the U aited
——
Htates shall be first satisfied ; and the
priority hereby establish d shall ex-
tend to all cases in which a debtor not
haying suffi dent property to pay all
his debts, makes a voluniary assign.
ment thereof, or In which the estate
and effzots of an absconding, conceals
ed or absent debtor are stiached by
process of law, as to cases In which
an act of bankraptey is committed.”
B then filed sa bill to defeat this ac-
gion of the United States on the
ground that what he had done did not
bring him within the operations of
the statutes and therefore did not give
the priority claimed. Judge Deady
decided In his favor and in the opin.
ion said ;: “The judgments entered on
the confessions are pot mentioned in
the statutes nor provided for, and the
United SBuates cannot maintain its
claim of priority, If Congress had
any intention to reach fraudulent ac
tion as that of B it would have used
words which would clearly have
shown such an intention.”
BTRENT RAILWAYS ~NEGLIGENCE.
—A car was stopped to allow a p assen
ger to alight, and another passenger
left her seat to get off the cor, Bhe
had not given the conductor or driver
notice that she desired to alight, but
and went t» the platform, and as she
was stepping off it was started and she
wus thrown to the ground and injored.
in an setion for damages (Rutubone
ve, Arion Railiroad Company) the
plaintiff recovered judgment, and the
company petitioned the Buprems
Court of Rhode Island for a new trial,
Carpenter, in the opinion, saying :
* In this case the car had stopped, or
convenience of a passenger and, in re.
We cannot say that, under the cir-
it was the duty of the
Tae stopping or slowing of the car in
response to the signal we think might
fairly be taken as notice by all the pas-
sengers that all who desired to alight
might take advantage of the opportu-
nity.”
—
Samson of the Theatre
Francois.
ns —
After leaving Rouen, Bamson was
engaged at the Odeon Theatre, in
Paris, and played there from 181% to
1826, On April 1st of that year he
Rue de Richelieu, Propositions had
been made to him the year previously,
but he felt bound todecline them, as the
Of his first ap-
pearance he says : * I made my debut
at the Cowedie Francais without bril.
I never liked a first appear.
ance; I was too cowardly, and | have
time to familiarize myself with the
public.” And earlier, in his memoirs,
“1 have
nesriy always failed in my debuts: I
obtained any success in new pieces.
Whenever I had to play a part that
miserable of men, and a week befors
the first performance a sort of ill
bumor would come over me. [ began
then to feel the tortures of fear."
* * * His appointment of Professor
at the Conservatoire in 1823 was only
a8 a supernumerary ; in 15838 he was
in actual possession of the office. His
class became celebrated, no doubt, be
cause of his two famous pupils. Among
his best parts as an actor were Ber.
trand de Ranizwu in Scribe’s play,
“Bertrand et Raton ;” le Marechal de
Destigney in “Lady Tartafte” le
Marquis in “Mile. de Ia Bagliere.”
Besides his VArt Theatrale,” Samson
wrote some comedies, all of which
bad more or less success : “La Fete de
Molliere,” ** La Belle Mere et le Gen-
dre,’. “La Famille Poisson." and
others. The last time he appeared on
the stage was on the 31st of March,
1863. He was much applauded the
whole evening, and as he came out
of the theatre be was welcomed by a
large and enthusiastic crowd of ad-
mirers. On the following day his
resiznstion was formerly acoepted.
He was then seventy years old, and
bad been before the public of the best
theatre in France for more than thirty
years, He died on the 81st of March,