GARDEN BONG. Here, in this enchanted close, Bloom the hyacinth and rose, Here, beside the homely stocks, Flaunt the flaming hollyhocks; Here, as everywhere, one sees Ranks, conditions and degrees. All the seasons run their race In this varrow garden space; Grape and apricot and fig Here will ripen and grow big; Here 1s store and overplus— More bad not Alcinous. Here, iu alleys cool and green, Far ahead the thrush is seen: Here along the southern wall Keeps the bee his festival; Quiet here doth reign; afar Sounds of toil and turmoil are. Here are shadows large and long; Here are spaces meet for song; Grant, O Powers benign, that I, New that none profane is nigh, Now that mood and moment please, Find the fair Plerides! A DANGEROUS LOVE, A winter day; a cold sky full of snow dancing down in joyous vivaeity, to] cover, with negligent charity, the ugly | little town and hide Its curious gir of | incompletion. The walls of adobe and | stone, mcongruities of design, the ir- | regular, uneven streets full of rocks in| the rough, together with hill-setting of | numerous abandoned prospect-holes aud | rudimentary tunnels, gave a whimsical | suggestion that Titans had left unfished | a town that had been cutting out from the earth’sraw material, This was the outside aspect as seen | through a pair of tall windows, with | curtains stretched back to gather every | ray of light from the dark dull sky. | That night, scant as it was, brought out the home-like cheer within. The warm red of carpet and casual fittings comforted the eye. At the windows | broad shelves full of plants that gave the sole suggestion of luxury, barring the aromatic brillianey of a fragrant cedar fire, A room of whose possibili- ties the most had been made, full of the | personalities of its temants; a room where a man was very apt to get a sense of repose and ministration—chief requirements of the masculine nature, Edward Lamb found its effects like that, leaning at ease in a homely big chair that had the knack, like all the chairs at this house, of fitting the hu- man frame. A large, fair man, slightly inclined to stoutness, he was of that typeof Irish beauty that involves whole- some, clear skin, flushed with delicate rosiness, abundant blonde hair and deep blue eyes, with more sleepy tenderness than was strictly behind their long, thick lashes, “I'm very fearful I’m in for another fortnight.” be saad; “not much chance of the roads opening while this sort of thing goes on.”’ Miss Souisby left the window and came back to her low seat on the hearth laughing. The impatience of his words was so completely at variance with the deliberation and contentment of his tone, “Possess your soul in patince,” she said. *‘It is only a question of days for you, and then—'' She made an express. iverhitle gesture of farewell and de- | parture, “And you?—are not you coming East | some day?” “Oh, yes,” she answered, with a cer- | tain blithe skepticism, “when we sell | a mine.” Mr. Lamb smiled at her satirical | touch upon the sanguine creed of the | camp. ‘‘Ledyard was wondering what | could keep me here,” he said, inconse- | quently; ‘a Bohemian born, for whom | the noise of cities is as the breath of | life.’ Madeion Soulsby looked at hum in- | tently. “Well,” she said, a little | sharply, ‘what has kept you?” And yet he knew that she was per- | fectly aware what had kept him. Idlers | both, they could hardly have counted | the long companionable afternoons they had spent together that winter, The little town was agog with the Irish- | man’s infatuation. If would have needed more than thelr joint gssevera- tion to have convinced the gossips that between these two no love-making had been. “Yes, I ought to have gone last week," he said, ignoring her audacity, “when Ledyard went.” “Why did you not go?" she persisted, The household cat had leaped upon her lap—a vicious big beas whose | claws had a wicked way of unsheathing | themselves upon fondling fingers, Mr, | Lamb found himself dwelling on the | fact that he never had seen Dick so requite Miss Soulsby’s careless endear- ments. The lazy creature laid himself luxuriously across her knees, like a sat gray muff, as the girl nestled her ds on his warm fur-—delicate hands those, always cold; not clammy, but cold with a firm and reticent force of their own, Some day-—it may be made a penal | offense—their exercise of this capacity some women have for indirect chal lenge; this tacit wooing that perhaps overweighs a man’s prerogative of out speaking. Edward Lamb was a phl atic man enough ordinarily, and little given to impulses; but just now he would have bartered his soul’s salvation for the right to displace Dick’s parted fur with his own handsome fair head, to feel that caresging touch press down his throb. biug eyelids, To his dying day he would not forget the picture that instant pho- tographed on the retina of his heart. For him, hereafter, no wonder of art or revelation of living beauty could dispel the memory of the graceful, gir shape whose quietude told of repres. sion, not inertia; the air of absolute self-confidence and cool, impartial self disdain; the bright face, with that arg: dhe Araves Shatin wisthuinom warning; the grave, w on that brow; the sweet lips just now eurved in scorn; the intent amber eyes, Mr. Lamb averted his , and took up a novel from a al in the ingle nook. 10 malignity of that perverse fate. which to § comments must partake of senti:nental coloring. “Is it the manlier way,” said Mr. Lamb, with a fine air of unconcern and indifference, ‘‘to offer a woman such a life as that¥--or would one better pro- tect her from self sacrifice by keeping silence?” That man is most fatuous who fan- cies that a woman*will not make instant personal application of such & speech. An exasperating smile of discernment bent Miss Soulsby’s lip. Men have the prerogative of commit- ting any madness,” she said; *‘with women rests the veto power of self-pro- tection against such insanity,” “Are you so worldly?” terly; **1 have known privation all my this world’s goods.” vet-looking woolen fabric, “I cannot conceive you having known the need of money,” women are dressed hke that—-"’ ed was his speech, of their households. I see. my frock-—men are so short-sighted true to its purpose. Do you see? She held her drapery forward naively. “This elegance, three dollars.” “What!” “It is quite true. gray flannel. the best portion of a worn-out shawl, and I had the butions,” with an air of Mr. Lamb found something very city and detail of this confession, This endurance of vanity’s mortification appeared heroic as contrasted with the lavish expenditure of other woman far less lovely and worthy. But then, men usually are willing virtue to the practicality that achieves sightly results. If Miss Soulsby's attire bad been unbecoming, or if Miss Souls- by’s self had been less pleasant to the eye, no doubt her expositivn of ways and means mignt have seemed sordid revolting in the extreme. Also, some allowance must be made for the attitude of delightful intimacy implied ia confidence on a topic so nearly perso- nal as thiglof toilet matters, Altogether, many things go to modify the triviality in value of discussions—between wo- wan and man--on puerile themes, “I thank you,” said Edward Lamb, almost reverentiy. “Bat this is all in the worst possible said Miss Soulsby, briskly; “sooth to say, I am in a huge fit of dis. gust—thanks, no doubt, to the weather, All this might look far more endurable by a warmer light,”’ with a disdainful gesture, comprehendirg the whole room, with fts cheery make-shift dec- orations. “Do you know." she went on, while the man sat speechless before ain taste.” be-~**1 have lately discovered in my nature a vein of strong sensuousness, much to my surprise; for 1 had fancied myself rather an ascetic person. But on beauvteous sights, 1 revel in agreea- ble odors. Can anythiag thrill the soul Like delicious scents?-—the touch of grateful texture charms me!" She put the gray cat suddenly down upon the red brick hearth, as if with it Leaning forward, she stretched her cur- “1 could never be completely happy while cold,” she said, nor utterly mis- Oh, 1 do understand how people can sell luxury.” Where was the reserved and maidenly companion of a8 moment since with her chaste cameo face and unresponding fingers? This was a young Lamia, full of all sensuous longing, open and un- hidden there. All day it had burned there in his breast, full of its own ad- monition, he told himself between the muffled no need. me what she feels.” letter between the cedar logs, with a very storia of passions and temptations warring within him, And yet—so tinies!-— before the ci cled and crackling strange revulsion of feeling swept over him, and he loathed himself for the sin he would have done. hold she sat unconscious and composed as some young saint, her grave brow serious and ealm, her delicate hands foided, almost as if for prayer. Had Mr, jLamb come very near making a mistake? Does a man live who can battle with temptation and overcome it, and then adandon the field without further dalli- ance with evil? Is that we like to parade our power and make show of our strength? “What a little creature vou are?” said Edward Lamb, ‘How tall, defin- itely? Stand up and let me see, & put out his hand as if to raise her from the chair but drew back short of her finger tips. For his life he dared not now Promupe bY 80 much as that slight touch. stood up as simply 49 a child, “What was it that Orlando said about his lady’ stature?” as my heart—she wt ‘Just as barely breathed words, yet with ex- quisite tenderness, her head with a ‘movemeni unspeakably sweet PY say uutil Bor chou Dut fis whore from him," But before be. hair was stirred by the sigh from his drooping lips, she back like a creature at bay, her brow knit in a frown, her eyes blazing with indignation and reproach. “How dare youl’ the cried, “What a pitiful pretext! How ingenious! How full of courage!’ What wonder that the fair Irishman blushed for his own poor ruse, to bring her near him for a moment. to discover his motive? Was his ardor answered by wild rapture in her own far above the compre- hension of earthly passions? Could she have used ignorantly the dangerous truction—each innocently vain ef its fancied knowledge? “Come in!” Miss Soulsby’s sweel Mr, Lamb's associate came into the room. “Ledyard telegraphs that the line Is open now, and a party is starting out. No one knows how long we may be shut in here, once the spring thaws set in,” ’ 1 i i i Mr. Edward lamb brought to its of a hotel in the city at the western still new enough some mighty mouster in bronze, him for a time. given me, in this letter, ill news of an old friend, I will go away and rest a little from the shock, But first let me introduce What, Mr, Lamb? Have you [already met fy husband?” Wonders of the Cable. It seems almost incredible that a man on a vessel in the middie of the Atlantic should be able to converse with another in London or New York, ut that have been startling civilization for the past half century. We read of the cable steamer Faraday going out in the trackless wastes and picking up the cable at any given point and talking to | both continents at once. When subma- | rine navigation on the Jules Verne plan is perfected it will probably be the regular thing to tap the cable as the | vessels go along and receive election | returns and Wall street quotations in| the cabin. A man might for instance, | send a message like this to his wife: tude 32 degrees 18 minutes west,—How | is the baby? A storm is raging above, | Then for an absconding bank cashier or | president what a great thing it would | warrant for his arrest off the cable as it | slipped along! There would be many | things in favor of these iron fishes | beside the cable facilities, and they would no doubt be deservedly popular. | For instance, there need be no sea-sick- | ness, for when a storm came up they | could, like Captain Corcoran, generally | go below and wait till the clouds rolled | by. Then when the shaft broke or the | piston rod exploded there would be no | whose name stands historic in the re- cords of the state, whose position and great wealth might have commanded Beyond these his interest had been won by the mellow wisdom and gentle shrewdness of his quiet, kindly potentate, who, as per the Pacific journalists dictum, “owned half a county.” Even now, despite the vital interest of the linen he was writing Mr. Lamb found his mind and his eyes strayiv toward his neighbor.” The fine, head, venerable with its scant, hair and flowing gray beard, was relief against the wall, that threw up all its wholesome freshness and calm benevolene, Mr, Lamb found a { Po La gmall in S0rt of fascination in this contemplation, : divided lus attention pretty i between g leman and the letter, As he folded the sheet he lifted his eves toward the general staircase; com- ing down from the floor a Was the woman he was addressing. Self-possessed and easily poised, she came toward him with the old free step and the old impenetrable challenge on brow and hp—a little warmer of tint, a little brighter of eye than when they parted, It was only when she had come very close to him that he noted the ex- ceeding richness of her attire, worn with the same careless grace as the old- time fannel. “She does become fine raiment!” his thought exulted, “and yet she would edt } the hove She paused beside his chair, and look- eyes with her own unwavering gaze, “To think I meet you here,’ he said: iso rent as it is, it will speak as my lips cannot.” He put the paper into her reinctant “I would better not read it, I think,” she said, gently; let me explain first.” “Read!” he said, almost flercely, and she read slowly down the page: It was a year sinee | have heard one word of you (the letter ran, with that abrupt beginning which signifies abso- lute absorption) when Ledyard, writing, casually that in passing Paraisc he had met you through El Again, [am here, but 1 dare not go farther until I send in advance my ex- planation—not an excuse, mind-—for what seemed a cruel and cowardly re- treat when we parted out yonder—you remember the bleak and hopeless day. The fight 1 fought that afternoon has disabled me ever mince; but also it has strengthened me. my eyes, within reach of my arms, and to leave you. To know your sordid that the pleasures and luxuries I would have heaped upon you I mast render in unwilling tribute to a woman [ abhor- You do not know--no one on this side knew—that I had a wife. I married her in London when I was just of age. She was an honest woman] coarse and vulgar nature made my life a hell, over to New York, She was nestled in loxury and you were in actual want! Now you understand the temptation I batiled with out yonder. queen in the bright and careless set I knew! Just as that wonderful adapta bility will make you now the most finished and gracious of grandes dames. I nad a letter from her in my hand that day, and burned it in your cedar fire when I thought to do you that wrong. But the look on your face drove back my words, thank God! and I can offer you now a guiltless future, for the wo- man who was my wife 1s dead. [am following this letter to-morrow, Faithfully yours EpwarD LAMB, She had grown very pale. She look ou w with a aug hand on her . ore Mr, could speak, could i her, the <haired man be had been watching come to her side, : “What is it, Madelon?" No volee of ever held half the tenderness of old man’s tone, She made a brave attempt to smile in ‘It foolish--I am a nervous * another steamer at the mercy of the | wind and tide. The vessel could just | drop down to the bottom and the pas sengers put on rubber suits and walk { ashore. ! Talking of cables recalls the mishap | that attended the laying of the first | Atlantic cables. One them | of was | made in two sections, A vessel started | from Ireland with the other, both in- | tending to meet in the middle of the | ocean and splice the main brace. After | out” for many days they at | Jast met at the appointed place and proceeded to solder the cables together, 1'o thelr astonishment they d that the cables were spun or wis in dif- ferent ways, one from right “£1 the other from left to right, a lot of weights to the cable when it been spliced and let it drop to 1 tom, waiting around a day or so if it was all right, When they Look it ap it was found that it bad begun unwind, turning it over and over like a porpoise Next they tried anchor it, the unwinding pr I proceeded, and it and tied had | bot He LO T Liey Ww al sea. Wo but OCERS stil got all twisted and tangled aroand the anchor, Noth- ing was to be done but to take up one end and anchor ihe other 3 Lew section could be completed. The American end fwas accordingly taken up and brought to New York, A long while afterwards a clerk was sitting in the cable office at Valentia, Ireland, using the new cables which haa since bean put down, when suddenly this old strip of wire on the bottom of the Atlantic began to talk. A cable vessel had gone out and picked it up and it | was chattering way at a great rate Ww the astonished clerk. It was joined to | another piece and afterwards worked | well for many years, itd A ct — A Narrow Escape. A Bombay shikaree narrates how he | panther, and lived to tell the tale, Af. ter describing the incidents of the hunt | up to the time when the beast broke cover, he says: ‘I had to wait until the panther was within a few feet of me, and I then put my rifle down to his! head, expecting to roll him over like a rabbit (as 1 had succeeded 1n doing on other occasions) and place my second | bullet pretty much where I pleased. To my horror, there was no report when | the hammer fell, The next moment the panther, with an angry roar, sprang | upon me. Hanging on with the claws | shoulder and the oiher round me, he | my left arm, winch he instantly seized | in his huge mouth. I shall never for- look of his greenish yellow eyes within six inches of mine, the turned-back | pve the | elbow. “1 endeavored, by giving him my | Those who have ever kicked a cat can imagine what little effect this had. | It was more like using one’s knee to a football than anything else, The pan ther with a roar, gave a tremendous wrench to my arm, hurled me some five paces down the side of the hill prone on my face, bringing my head in contact with a tree. Stun and sensible, 1 lay some seconds on the ground, and the brute thinking me dead, fortunately did not worry me, but, passing over me, went for the retreating police constable who had brought me into the difficulty. I remnember, when [ came to, raising my head from the ground, leaning wy head against the tree and smiling wi a certain feeling of grim satisfaction, eyes caught the retreating nwt purs The Amateur Ukemist, A late writer says I often think how many scientists and experimental chem» ists and coroners are swallowed up by journalism, and how thankful the pub- lic ought to be that they are in a fleld the people. We often find fault with fate, but certainty it 18 wisdom that takes a man out of a drug store some times and puts him in the sanctum. W. L. Visscher, who has done jour- nalist work on many papers, and work, too, that would have made his reputa- tion world-wide if he badn’t been so was once a drug clerk in Kentucky. If you watch closely you will see that the man who is intended as a newspaper athlete will go through the gamut of trades first or last. And it isn’t as it used to be, Of course, I mean if he {8 a good, square newspaper man, not the scallawag kind or the kindergar- with a love for bis w 1k improve. when he was in the drug business. showed a good deal of ingenuity in that He invented a kind of rat poison once that worked well, bnt the ingredi- ents were too expensive to make the patent a valuable one. He killed nine nipety dollars to do il. the poison itself, village in which Visscher was acting as fountain superintendent. Jesse was a tucky squirrel, and life ought to have been one long happy squirrel, hunt for him. But he was not entirely happy. He had red whiskers. for his angry bair, but his beard annoyed him very much. inflamed He sort of alchemist who could do most anything with his mysterious jars and peculiar smelling herbs, He asked Visscher to color his beard for him, and offered in consideration thereof to bring him a mess of squirrels, The price was young chemist proceeded to make Mr. Clawser's beard as black asa raven's wing wilh lunar caustic. Every 1 while he wou maken mistake and hit the skin, and MM: Clawser would jump out of his chair with great uueasiness, Wherever struck Jessie's j id wave a black spot wash off about as easil) Wall, Mr. Clawser walke back room of that drug beard as black as an Egy b itis day in AWAY, At first no one knew Lo introduce himself, better acquainted with him, and the of Northern Kentucky, who were not too busy, dropped their other my own Italian Te Lad him. Then people gol wy pie ever he went. This at last pained and annoyed him, He got throngh ten days, and then he stole into the store after The great amateur chemist He didn’t do it very well, but he made out to segregate Mr, Clawser from his glorious beard. There it lay ou tbe fivor like the end of a cow’s tall somber pile of stiff and dlabolical bair. M1. Clawser heaved a sigh of relief and went to the mirror. He there saw a young man with white eyes and cream- eolored eye-brows., The lashes were ecru, aud the freckles were hike large flocks of bronze, The hair hung about the forehead like an incendiary fire be- yond control, with black daubs of lunar caustic. Mr. Clawser looked like the map of the burnt district. He looked like the tattooed man at the circus, reminded people of a red-headed pen- wiper. He went around through the forests, frightening litt«e children into St. Vi- tus’ dance, for three days, and liviag on huckleberries and blue grass. Ie then took another mess of sqnirrels to Visscher and asked him if there wasn’t some way known to science by which these marks could be removed. Viss. He Lassi- He also thought possibly it could be done, then applied a little cyanide of win and removed the spots. munity once more. mountains and lived the life of a reciuse had left the drug trade and gone into Then he came back lo home and friends once more, but he will not look at a newspaper and is re- garded everywhere as the foe of the press, He is afraid be will run up somewhere, Jerry Black and Joe Williams. It is related of the late Judge Black that in 1857, just after he was appointed Attorney General of the United States, he was staying at the Astor House in New York, @ of leading politi- clans called upon him. One day a small, haired man arrived at the hotel aren i wi soo you Ag ‘were but and | was Da dor In less than thres minuies the Magic Vhotographe, ws What are called magic photographs | are positives printed in a latent state on while paper that it is only necessary to | immerse in ordinary water to have the | image appear, The means employed for obtaining | this curious and surprising effect are as | follows: The positives are printed from jany negatives whatever upon paper { sensitized with chloride of silver, such | a8 may be purchased of any dealer in | photographic supplies. The printing is {done with the ald of sunlight, either {direct or diffused, in any ordinary { printing frame, or, more simply, be- | tween two plates of glass held together { by means of spring clips, | The image, when once printed, is | fixed in a bath composed of 10 grammes | of hyposulphite of soda dissolved in 100 { grammes of ordinary water. It is not {toned with gold, but is thoroughly | washed with water after coming from | the bath, so as to remove every trace of { hypo from the fibres of the paper. This washing is absolutely necessary, fectly white after it has been treated { with the following bath: Biculoride of Mercury 5 grammes Water 100 grammes { The image, when immersed in this | bath, soon gradually begins to lose { color, and finally disappears altogsther, | When the paper has become entirely | white it is washed in water and allowed | to dry. If it be desired to cause the latent | image to reappear, it is only necessary | to immerse the paper in a weak solution ! | of hyposulphite of soda, or better, of | sulphite of soda. To the back of these photographs there is attached a plece of bibalous paper impregnated with sulphite of soda. In this way, when the paper is | immersed in water, the sulphite at once | dissolves, and the image quickly ap- pears, The bichkloride of mercury {corrosive | sublimate) is a substance that should be used only with great precaution, as it is a violent poison. Care should therefore be taken to allow no delicate the body to come iuto contact and to put the vessels conlain- u a safe place out of reach. sensiti paper adapted for this % way be either albu- tt of ve eye formed by floal- cent. nitrates of her salled } hased in this ily prepared by immer- in water containing 0 100, , the paper is sus r, and allowed to rk place. For the balance the operations one will procesd as ile of the phenomenon is as Che image formed by the light 1 by the reduced silver, This sen bleached by the bichloride, noth calomel {chloride of mer- {eury) and chloride of silver. Salphite {of soda possesses the property of dis solving chloride of silver and of black- | ening chloride of mercury by forming a sulphide, § COLT ITASTe Ww contain A555 AI Iron mm EgypL It has been much questioned whether iron was employed at all by the Egypt- inns untal the time of the Greek con- quest. The weapons, implements, and iormmaments of iron which have been i found on the sites are so few, while | those of bronze are so numerous, and | the date of the few iron objects discov- lered is so uncertain, that there is a | strong temptation to embrace the simple {theory that iron was Crst introdnced into Egvpt by the Ptolemies. Difficulties, | however, stand 11 the way of the com- plete adoption of this view, A fragment {of a thin plate of iron was found by { Col. Vyse imbedded in the masonry of | the great pyramid. Some iron imple. | ments and ornaments have been found in the tombs, with nothing about them indicative of their belonging to alate perind, The paucity of such instances is partially, if not wholly accounted for by the rapid decay of fron in thenwdrous earth of Egypt, or when oxadized by laxposure to the air. (1 seems, more- over, very improbable that the Hebrews jand Canaanites should for centuries have been well acqgaamied with the use {of iron, and their neighbors of Egypt, { whose civilization was far more advan- ced, Lave been ignorant of it. On these | grounds the most judicious of modern | Bgyptologists seem to hold that, while (the use of iron by the Egyptians in | Pharaonic times was at the best rare aud occasional, 't was still not wholl unkuown, although less apprecia than we should have expected. Irom | spear beads, dros sickles, iron gimiets, iron bracelets, iron keys and iron wire, | were occasionally male use of; but the | Egyptians, on the whole, were content. {ed with their bronze implements and | weapous, which were more easily pro- duced. A A Year's Sheemaking. — —- As a result of one year’s manufacto | ring, our ope required, for 1880, | 6,831,061 sides of sole leather; 21,147 656 sides and skine of upper leather, besides Jeather sold by weight to the amount of #2900614 poumds. This supply was sufficient to wake 185.473, 511 pairs of boots snd shoes, or a little more than two pairdeach for every man, woman and child in the United States. One such place as Lyon would perha require for a weekly by A the Sangh: tor of 4,000 cattle, 10,000 goats, 15, sheep, the manufacture of 50,000 yards of cotton eloth; nearly » ton of silk and cn beatin Soca ep nat piles of every description which enter nto the composition of shoes,
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers