DRIFTING ASUNDEW, Drifting asunder, Each faithful heart, Drifting asnnder, Forever to part. Drifting asunder, Yet why should it be? Tho' drifting asunder, I'll still think of thee Drilling asunder, Ah, can it be 80? Drifting asunder, And ne'er more to know, The soft thrill of pleasure That ‘es in the olasp Of frie eiship's dear hand As «tighten the grasp. Drifting asunder, Yet thro’ the long years We've traveled together, And shared joys and fears. There'll rise in your memory Some sweet, by-gone lay We've oft sung together In friendships tirm day. Drifting asunder, Yet time will soon tell How strong was the unison How sad the farewell. But if it must be, Tho’ a heart should be rivey, A sad, kind farewell, To you shall be given. Drifting asunder, On this side of the grave, Is a parting in life, Scarce nothing can save Yet think of the meeting On that happy shore, Where sorrows all cease And parting’s no more. A TTI SH, ion, “Indeed she is, Phil; put who is the other one you bowed to?” “Oh, that’s Nina Gordon; the other is a rich cousin of hers, who has lately arrived in town” ‘‘And I suppese’if you gain her ac. | Greyson seated by his side and was driving along. When they returned he learned that & ball wes to be given that evening, and requested the honor of escorting Miss Greyson thither, which was graciously granted, thereby setting Philp in a rerfect frenzy of delight at the appar. ent easiness of his conquest. ‘I knew she couldn't resist me,” he exclaimed while preparing for the ball, “I must get her a handsome bouquet for to-night, and after a few more trink. ets I shall have to disclose my devotion, ete., for I'm getting oconfoundedly in debt and in want of some cash,” The ball was pronounced a decided success by all, and Philip went home highly satisfied and delighted, as Miss | Greyson had behaved iu the sweetest A few weeks passed in this way, and at last the hour arrived when Philip | determined to know his fate, Accord- | ingly he dressed himself in his best suit, put on his new kid gloves, and after curling his mustache to the high- est degree of fascination, started forth with a hopeful heart, He soon arrived at the house, was ushered into the parlor, and in a few | moments found hunself alone with Miss | After some common: place | “Miss Greyson,” he said, casting a most languishing look toward her, and sofa upon which she sat, *“I have a great favor to crave of you, Dare I make it known?” “The brave dare do anything, Mr, | ‘Miss Greyson, you have stirred | began | fall into the background. “Certainly, if the other one has the largest fortune, marry a rich wife; there's no help for it. I'm not overburdened with the precious met.l, and I must take care that my ‘chosen one’ has plenty of it.” be of that class called ‘fortune hun- ters? ” inquired his friend. “My dear Ned, I beg that you won't “May my hope of calling you my | own be realized? Say, sweet one, will you be mine?” “*Are you sincere in your sentiments, Mr. Martin, asked Miss Greyson calmly. “Sincere! Put me to some test to | turous reply, | “Would you love me as well if 1 were | poor and dependent?” ‘I care not for money,” replied our ““1t is only your sweet self that remounstrated Phil, “I'm sure 1 don’t geo the harm of my falling in love with a pretty girl] that has money any more than with one who has none,” “I doubt if you ever will fall in love,” retorted Ned; ‘but what become of that Cora Day, that little ‘wild flower,’ as yon called her, that you loved so desperately, a short time ago?” “Oh, [ threw her overboard,” replied Phil, carelessly, ‘you see, dear fellow, I found after dangling around her for a short time, that she hadn't a cent to bless herself with; so, although 1 bad been foolish enough to enter into a sort of engagement with her, I broke it off at once, It was 8 narrow escape, I tell you,” “A most praiseworthy proceeding, certainly,” replied Ned, sarcastically; “and how did the young lady accept your honorable withdrawal?” “There, don't get on your high horse, Ned,” said Phil; *‘she went on pretty strong about it for a little while and tried to faint very interestingly: but when she came to her senses she behaven rather better, As to being her lover, 1 never was anything of the kind —To be sure I felt a sort of romantic fancy for her, but when I beheld Miss Gordon I felt my heart stirred, and I soon found that I was mate for Cora,” “I declame, Phil Martin, I am per. fectly disgusted with you!” exclaimed through the contemptible lens of money! You are the most heartless, deceiving scoundrel I ever met with, “I am glad to hear that you are so | disinterested,” was the rather sarcastic | order not to deceive | you I must tell you that I have not any | riches, only a small yearly portion, sufficient barely for my wants, and that is settled upon me by my cousin, Cora Day, who is hersell very wealthy.’ For a moment Mr. Martin was stunned, and the first use he made of his returning senses was to rise from his knees and resume his chair, At last he happened to stammer « at: “Madam, I am afraid I have been too hasty. I-—I beg that you will" “Excuse me from any more love passages,” interrupted Mise Greyson, with a wave of her hand. “Rest eisy on that score, Mr. Martin, You have unmasked yourself most thoroughly, and I have had quite enough of you, I may as well tell you that [ left my cousin’s, where I was staying, and came on here on purpose to find you out, and, if possible, punish your skamefni conduct toward Cora. You now realiza your true situation, and I beg leave to diepense with your acquaintance for the futare.” I'm very sorry to have hurt poor Cora’s feeling,” stammered Philip, ris- ing from his seat. “May I ask if she is engaged yet, Miss Greyson?” **You had better go and see,” replied Miss Greyson, “She was foolish enough to forgive you, and I dont know what her sentiments may be now.” Philip never clearly remembered how thing he experienced was that the street | door was closed behind him and he was ‘There's one gleam of hope left,” he ately desert her because she has Miss Gordon having stirred your heart? You might be sifted through a hair article. And then you could declare your intemtiovs of letting her go be- cause of this stranger! was Cora’s brother I would follow you here and thrash you. Such a oon- temptible, unfaithinl, mercenary fellow I never saw in my life!” “Rail on, old fellow,” Phil, coolly; “I shan't quarrel with sentiments #0 long as they don’t inter. fere with my plans, time to time of my success.” feat,” said Ned warmly; ‘Nothing would please me more,” and they parted at the corner of a street. The next day Philip Martin called at the residence of Miss Cordon, and after her fnend, Sybil Greyson. That young Indy entered the room attired in a rich blue silk dress, while an elegant dia. mond ring gleamed on her finger, and a tiny jeweled waleh hung from her waist, and a handsome gold bracelet eamed on either wrist, All this hilip took in at a glance, and from it he drew the conclusion that Miss Grey- gon was very weathy, and he therefore began his conquest then and there, our after hour passed by, and still Philip Martino Hagered, pouring honeyed words into Miss Greyson's ear, to which she replied with her sweetest smiles and most fascinating glances, At last he rose to go, and, pressing her hand, asked if she would do him the honor of allowiug him to take her to ride the next day, With her sweatest smile, she rephed in the affirmative, and Philip departed, vastly elated at his success, 1 shall soon have her,” he exclaimed, exnltingly, as he sauutered toward his lodgings, ‘‘she is interested in me al. ly; that I can easily see. 1 shall soon have the pleasure of sending Ned my wedding cards,” At the appointed time the next day Mr. Martin up “= an elegant car- riage snd soon had ‘sinating Miss little thing, and if I can get her tn for- give me, all will go first rate, I mean to try at all events,” .He accordingly made his prepara- where Miss Day resided with her aunt, As be entered the tasteful little garden he heard a slight rustle in the bushes, and the next moment stood before | Cora, who was bending over a rose bush, Looking up, she gave a start of sur- | prise, but betore he could utter a word, | and seized her hand. “Cora, darling!” he exclaimed, *I | feel deeply the wrong that I have done | you but at that time I was not myself, | i “Your repentance comes a trifle too | “Of course it | was not in any way influenced by the | knowledge of my sudden riches,” she | added sarcastically, **but I must inform | you that I am engaged to a gentleman of honor and prinoiple; and I never wish to number you among my friends again, Good evening,” and with a hsughty | bow she glided off, leaving our friend in an exceedingly uncomtforable state ol mind. As he wended his way bome again a hand was laid on his shoulder, and Ned eried out: “Well, old fellow, I should think you ought to have come to your senses by this time! For heaven's saxe stop lounging around, and go into some decent business that will support you honorably; and if you deserve it you | will have success, In the meantime | allow me to present yon this,” and he hauded him a tiny note containing an announcement of the coming marriage of Mr. Ned Wilton and Miss Cora Day. Phil turned quickly around, but Ned had ed, and after a moment's hesitation he went on. Whether he ever followed his friend's advice or not 1 eaunot say, In examining tallow in Paris thesam- ple is dissolved in chloroform, when gelativons matters, ts of skins, ealeium te of and other non-fatty remain undissolved, ‘I'he French stearine makers take 44° as the lowest possible melting point for A Woman With Faults, Last April I met the Orville sisters, two pretty young girls who boarded with my aunt. Pretty girls, both of them and though very much alike in appegrance, it is Jenny, cious, and possible for sisters to be. the elder, was bright, viva- exceedingly wild, while once)was sweet, modest and retiring. My room was next to theirs, and cousequently I learned more of them than 1 otherwise would have done, course of my life. her affections I would make her my wife. more smitten I became. should be, and, strangely enough younger, while the elder very often despair after the first two hours, prefer- Every day my admiration for Violet increased. principles, but I mwardly pitied any man who would units himself to her barum-scarum sister, I had never vet seen her in an earnest mood, and her Violet occured to I had decided to propose to one day, when something The door of the next room closing heard Violet say: ‘Jenny, please don’t make so much noise, There are other people in the house be- sides you.” **I don’t care, now that it’s done,” said Jenny, Violet, “A baby ; can’t you see?” H{xood gracious IV “Isn’t she pretty, Vi #7 ‘Jenny, Jenny, how could vou that filthy child here 77 “Why, because I had strength enough to carry her.” *“*But she's so dirty. Look at face. Where did you find her *" at the corner. Don't you Oring her “Down think she's pretty ?"’ **Yes ; but her face is dirty.” “Well, that can be washed.” “And her bair hasn't been combed for a week. What are you going to do with her 7" “Wash her and comb her hair { Here, Vi, you hold her till I get warm water.” **Oh | take her away; take her away! You know I hate children.” “Well, 1 don’t; love them. I'm going to play with tals child all the af- ternoon, and then we'll go and buy a nice big doll and take it home to show mamma, won't we pet?” “But her mother will be worried. “1 sent her little brother home to let her know where she was, So don't take a fit, Vi. Now she’s got a clean Kiss me, pet!” “Oh, Jenny, how can you kiss her ? I believe you are crazy, You had bet- ter be improving your mind with some good book instead of wasting your time and money on achild like that. I must say your money can be put Lo better use than buying dolls for strangers’ child ren. There was a moment's silence, and 1 knew that Jenny was looking reproach. fully at her sister, and then she spoke the words that formed the first link of the chain that was to bind her to me. rst. the face, your head, you will look back and say: I have read until I am wise, Aye, and I have read until I am wretched, choicest flowers of knowledge ; but my heart, that garden spot which God has ure—ah ! that has been deserted, It is a wilderness which I have neglected, world, while I have left that which God has given me to lighten my own life a hard lustreless stone, which sheds no light on the soul within.’ “Oh, nonsense 1” cried Violet. “You may cry nonsense, by-and-by you will find it to be true. Let your leisure moments be spent with child. true joys of life and the happiness of pure and innecent love, I spend my last penny to make a child a loveless heart. bestows on me a joy. Money spent in this way is not wasted, Violet ; with it, perhaps, I might have purchased a momentary pleasure that behold the work of a little deprivation for me and joy for another, 1 buy a child a doll, Isee ite smile, I first purchase in this way, the child's atten tion ; then by tenderness I win its love, I go away and see that child no more, thought of this babe returns to me, Something reminds me of her, a little apron such as she had worn, a doll like the one 1 had purchased for her, some trivial thing, but whate'er it be it reaches forth a friendly hand, and un- locking memory’s door, takes from its hiding-place a diadem of love, glitter. ing with a child's smile, her kiss, her whispered words of love, and brightest of all these, glitter her tears at part. ing. Some one has loved me | I have purchased the jewel at the price doll. No, Violet, give me a sacrifice and unsel Juik bo Juvelum uudioficas bu when my parting shall not without a blossom or even a withered leaf. You may have the music and | polished manner, but I shall always re- | remain the faulty know nothing girl I { am now, Bo come along, little one,and { We'll buy our doll.” Once more the door slammed, and | Jenny and her charge were gone, leav- ing me alone with my thoughts and my prayer : ‘May she always remain the faulty, | know-nothing girl she is. She knows | all I wish her to know-the true secret | of happiness,” I changed my mind on that day, and I shall never have cause to regret it. Jenny is my wife, and though she | may lack the polish of society still her true and loving heart possesses a polish and lustre that reflects the love in mine | and sheds light upon our path in life, wll A Assos Fanting Black Eyes, The leeching and painting of eyes, | discolored through misfortuces which headquarters of which is situated in the | centre of the district occupied by the | bruising fraternity. ‘“You see I am pretty busy,” said one { of Philadelphia's most successful bruise | | disguisers to a reporter, as he ushered | {a very pretty young lady out of his office and resumed his seat, placed within easy reach of the implements of | his profession, “Here are my mate- rials,” he went on pointing to a collec. tion of tubes containing variously col- | ored paints, and taking up a bottle filled with healthy, slimy, squirming leeches. | “You would be interrested to see the | | patients that will cull here to have their | disfigured beauty made perfect again. There are all kinds, from the well | | dressed, daiotily-gloved lady, who, for once, uses the street cars instead of her carriage, down to the ragged pot-boy at some concert den, who has been trying { his powers as a bare-knuckle boxer,” “Do your visitors tell you how they received their wounds?” “0 yes, though I never ask. They | are generally eager to explain how stu- | pidly they ran against a door left ajar in the dark. That is almost always the story told by the ladies, although some vary it by describing the fall down! stairs, caused by a torn rufll, in their dress, The other morning a young lady, evidendy a bride, came here with a badly swollen and blackened eye, Wkile I was leeching it she told me how she had struck her face against the corner of a dressing -table in stooping to pick up her scissors, which she had dropped on the floor. I, as nsual, offered my condolence, and as 1 was about to apply the paint to her eyelid the door was hastily opened and a gen- tleman appeared, with a face very much the worse for three long scratches on the left cheek, The lady looked up, started, clencuied her small hands, grew white with anger, and perhaps there would have been more blood spilt had not the new arrival, evidently recogniz- ing my visitor, beaten a hasty retreat, There was no more talk of dressing tables that day.” “Do you remedy bruised well as blackened eyes?” ‘“0), yes; no matter what the injary is, I can generally render it inyisible I never ask for names, and, it possible, avoid any conversation, because in some cases where people have been quarrel- ing and afterward applied to the courts for a settlement of their difficulties, I am api fo be called in to testily as to their appearance when they called on me.” “How often do you have to treat your patients?” “About every three days the paint becomes hardened and creased, and the faces as fresh one applied, If the eye is swollen I leech 1t before painting, and [ can, in | almost every case, entirely conceal the bruise, The paint I carefully apply with my finger, rubbing it well in and taking great eare that the blending of the colors is exact, tliat How Are you OY i He was leaning against the railing | at the ferry dook looking decidedly out of sorts when along came an oily, | smooth-faced man and said: “How are you off?” “What for?” “Money.” ‘Haven't got a red.” “Say, can you tell a he?” “I oan.” : “Then you are the man I want, Old | Captain Smith, of Buffalo, is over in | that saloon and has got a crowd around | him. He's a great liar, but always over and hear the lie out, and when he is through just get up and claim that your pocket.” The matter was arranged and the | ir went over to the saloon, Capiain time he worked around to remark: “That was a ourious thing that hap- you ul the wreck of the Mary Ann?” “No,” He sat down to describe the imagin. ary wreck, and when he got along te where the vessel showed an intention to founder the chap who was to play mermaid got the and pricked up his ears, “Well, sir,” ooutinued Smith, “she floally went down and 1 found myself struggling in the lake. It was twenty. five miles to and how do you TE avn Teh that a mermaid towed you ashore,” answered one of the gang. “Huamph! an infernal lie! I floated sshore on the mmnhatch cover, and never had a nicer ride in life!” The man who hired the completely broken down, while the liar stum off out of doors with his cour. age all gone. Smith had seen them con suspected & job, and the ont “ J ns A AAI Phosphor bronze has an eleotrio dueti two aud a half that of steel and one-third that of copper, Bnoes for Fast Horses. “To shoe a fast horse takes as much oare and precision as to fit a lady's foot,” said Mr, Murphy, the well-known horse-shoer, to a Phila delphis reporter recently, ‘“I'he ma. jority of race horses that come to this city are shod in this shop. John Bpian was here early this morning with Belle ¥. and another fast horse, He was the driver of Rarus, you will remember, and is the owner of some good horses on the track now. In this shop we have shod Bt, Julien, Trinket, Darby, Hopeful, Hannis, the noted stallion Edwin Thorne and a “Is there much difference in the in the world, like the Per- “All the difference horse of iron with toe cork and heels, A horse that travels in a business wagon or will take a twenty ounce shoe, or a one and a quarter pound are made heavy and are about an inch in width, “A trotting horse's shoe is entirely different, They do not than ‘from fourteen to sixteen ounces, shoes are invariably made of steel, and those in front are often of There is no toe cork but a slight for a shoe, on a trotter's shoes, and rise in the back part of them heel, “The shoes of running horses are called plates. They weigh vut four or five ounces, are perfectly flat, and are round, and as thin as possible, They are put on to strengthen the hoof and keep it from breaking, but they are an inch loner than the foot behind, This is to give power and support to the Noticing a number of curiously the repurter asked in perfect innocence if they were for crippled horses, The young man smilingly replied: ‘“No, they are for trotting horses. There is a great deal of difference in the feet of fast horses, just as much as there is in the feet of men, Some horses’ hoofs we have to cover with more weight on the outside, some vice versa, some with the heaviest part of the shoe in front, others behind. Many horees spread their feet in trotting, and others work close with their feet, and unless they shod perfectly they will go lame, There may be a half dozen fine theroughbtreds brought into the shop to-morrow morning and not one of them be shod alike, “A pacer is most always shod light. We shod some fast horses for McCarthy, who drove Little Brown Jug, the pacer. A mnner is the lightest step- ping horse, a pacer and racker the next, then a trotter,” “Do the fast horses stand the shoeing process well?” “Oh, ves, quite as well as any of them, The fast horses are always brought to the shop in the cool of the moruing. They are gentle horses generally.” An Fagiishman's Bers, During ten years the late Lord Dud- ley invariably attended Epsom and Ascot on the great days, and once or twice he was seen at Goodwood, His plan of betting was to wail for what looked like a certainty, and then to amount, He had £10,000 on Gladia- teur when that horse won the Ascot Cup in 1866, Four years later he vain- ly offered to lay £25,000 to 10,000 on 3, O00 on the poisoned Hester, but this money was got back the next year on Hannah. In 1872, Lord Dudley won £19,000 at Epsom on Cremorne and Reine. In from there he telegraphed, on the moming of the Oaks day, to a friend who frequenently did commissions for him, desiring that £5,000 might be put for him. The tele days. In 1874, Lord Dudley won £7,- 000 over Apology's Oaks, and a year later he was a large winner over Spiha- way at Epsom and over Doncaster at Ascot, but he lost heavily by Apology’s The last time he appeared on a racecourse was at Ascot in 1876, where be was said to have lost over £30,000, They Got Left, He sat down in one of the hallways boot, and a policeman who happened along at that moment. kindly inquired: ‘Concluded to go barefoot?’ ‘Say,’ called the man as he tugged away at his sock, ‘i've been walking around this town for about five hours,’ ‘Must be footsore.’ ‘No, "tain’t that, but I've had a dozen different boys ask me if I had tar on my heel, I've looked and looked, but there is no tar. Is there any on that boot ¥’ *No.! ‘Any on my sock? ‘No.? ‘Well, now, off comes the sock and you look at my bare heel. If there's any tar there 1 want to know it.’ J EE ued the hing ‘but you Bmpinges, iggest old callous I ever did ’ ‘I know it, but I'm after tar. Any tar on my foot?’ Br eras Lamps of Varioes Shades, nmin “Lamps in place of gas? I can not say that the question of economy in light comes into the question,” said a large dealer mn lamps and gas fixtures, “but the handsome lamps which are in the market to-day are the fashion, and of course people must have themd They form an exceedingly pretty table orna- ment, and on this account are very popular,” “You are manufacturing some very elaborate patterns of lamps now,” was suggested, “Yes; the styles are constantly ime proving and some of them are very ela. borate, Now here is a lamp decorated { with a delicate design of foliage in { drabs, grays and soft greens, and the shade, you perceive, matches the lamp. Then here are others of various pat- | terns, The very latest designs are in hammered metals, brass or copper, with | duplex burner.” “Are these lamps expensive?’ “On the contrary, they are remarka- { bly cheap. The cost has declined, with- | in the past two or three years, in pro- portion as their popularity has increas. | ed. Lamps which formerly cost five or | 8ix dollars can now be hought for three | and a-half or four dollars, and some are | sold even less, A very handsome lamp can now be bought for three dollars.” ! ““What class of people buy them?" “All classes, but chiefly people of mo- | derate means, Still almost all the | wealthy and fashionable families have one of these handsome lamps upon their library table, and they are always light. {ed in the evening to furnish light to read by, The light from an oli-lamp well shaded is conceded by all to be far softer and more grateful to the eyes | than gas light. On this account the { lamps are rapidly superseding the old- fashioned drop-light. In fact the sale of drop-lights is rapidly growing less, We are to-day selling only about one third as many as we were a few years | ago. Economy has, of course, somes thing to do with this; for an argand drop-light burns a great deal of gas, and oil is cheap. The very best of oil costs but a trifle, and the use of oil exclusive ly easily solves the question of light for i people of moderate means. But 1 think the main reason for the rapid ex clusion of drop-lights and the substitu tion of oil is the superior light to be ob- tained and the greater beauty of the lamp. not easy to ornament a drop-light elaborately, or in fact to work any fixtures for gas into ornamens tal shapes. But lamps are susceptible of such an infinite variety of shapesand such a plentitude of ornamentation that they are far more pleasing to the eye.” “The use of lamps at the seashore and in country villas accounts for much of the demand for these articles, In places where gas is not obtainable, oil must be used as We have fitted up many elegant seaside residences with lamps and Jamp-fixtures in a very ela- borate manner. Lamp chandeliers are used in these houses to a great extent. Some of these are very ornamental, more 80 than gas chandeliers, Then we have also side lights for stairways, bath-rooms and other similar places, so that a dwelling thoroughly fitted with modern lamps 1s really more elegantly fitted than if gas were used.” “What are the sales of illuminating oils for family use as compared with those of a few years ago?” was asked of a large oil merchant, *“The sales are constantly increasing. Mechanics now use oil almost exclusive ly, and among the great middie class its use is increasing every year. Why should it not be so? The oils of to-day are so excellent and so cheap withal that the people are beginning to regard it as folly to spend money for gas bills when they can procure a far better light at a much less cost.”’ rs sly A How the Altar of Roses is Mads, Tbe Ramelian attar is made from the | “Rosa damascinia” by distillation, The color of this rose is generally red, though sometimes white, and blooms in May and June, The flowers are on | frees that average about six feet high, which are not only planted in rows, | but are tended zealously from sutumn | till msummer. The flowers when in | full bloom are plucked before sunrise, | sometimes with, sometimes without the { calyx, but only in such quantities as | ean be distilled on the day that they { are plucked. The still is a plain tinted ! apparatus, from which a long ourved tube is directed through a tub of water and into a large bottle, The still stands on a stone hearth, and ususliy in the shade of trees near a running | stream. The firing is done by wood. The stills hold from twenty-five te fifty pounds of roses, which are cov with twice that guautity of water, and | bolled half an nour, The distilled | liquid that passes over into the bottle | 18 allowad to stand, when the atter rises | on the sarface and is skimmed off, the | water ultumately being sold #8 rose | water at Constantinople, The sttar is | is kept in copper cans and the rose | water in bottles, A rose tree is at its | best at its fourth year, an acre of four. | year-old trees producing from one to | two tous of flowers and 7,000 pounds of | flowers producing one pound of attar, | Much depends on the spring weather, as rains and frosts will effect the bloom, that $ 3 0 a substitute. § i i of the pure yellow attar, noth ing being said of the article adultemted
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers