TR I TS TR
a m——————————
Under the Magnolias.
Roused Ly a clear-voleed trumpeter of
dawn,
In joy I seek the golden courts of day;
The dusky cohorts of the night have gone
Far down their western way.
A winding forest path invites my feet,
Low winds are calling from the dewy
alsles;
Before ma lies the heron’s dim retreat,
A maze of leafy miles,
Some power occult so moves me that 1
cross
The sleeping garden where bananas lean,
And win, through hoary oak groves draped
with moss,
The woolland's wide demisne.
A mocking bird salutes me as I go,
An oriole greets me as [ press along;
1 feel in all my veins a quickening glow,
Companioned thus by song.
Through interlacing boughs of pine and
palm
I catoh brief glimpses of & turquoise sky
Below, as softly as an evening psalm,
The river ripples by.
I gain ere long the royal forest's heart,
And pause, where proud maguolias lift
in state
Their wealth of blossoms, whose pale petals
part
Sweetly inviolate,
Here, in the early legendary days,
Beside these mighty, time-defying
boles,
Gathered around their camp-fire's ruddy
blaze
The swarthy Seminoles.
And through the trembling shadows round
me cast
My startled fancy pictures, even now,
A stealthy chieftain gliding slyly past,
With bow of stout ash bough.
Recalling memories of a perished time,
While thus 1 strav through changing |
glow ond gloom, i
I do pot heed how trumpet creepers climb |
Or golden jasmines bloom;
But taking leave of present thoughts and
things, |
I voyage on years that swiftly backward |
flow
And dwell with those who reigned as for- |
est kings
Two centuries ago.
his friend’s sober countenance.
Without replying to his bandinage
Harry abruptly asked,
“Where, when, and how did you ba.
come acquainted with Mrs. Draine and
her daughter?’
“In New York, at an evening recep-
tion at the residence of Mrs, Van Horn,
recently was the gay reply.
¢* And she is English?’
“Yes”
“And never resided in this country
before?’ Harry continued.
“J am not prepared to answer the last
question,” Walter replied. *‘I only pre.
sume that she is a native of Eaogland,
since her daughter was born there, as
she informed me,”
“Who informed you, Mrs, Draine or
her daughter?”
“Mrs. Draine.”
Harry was silent for a few moments
Hien he looked at his friend and observ-
ed:
“Walter do you firmly believe in my
friendship?”
“Why certainly!” was the reply,
given with an air of surprise.
“And you will not doubt either my
sincerity or honesty of purpose in what
“I see no reason why I should do so,”
hereturned,
*“Then listen; but, before I begin I
will say I may be mistaken in my im-
pression—nay, [ may say my convic-
tions. Less than a year ago I became
acqainted with Mrs, Bartell in New
Orleans and fell in love with her daugh-
ter, a beautiful brunette. I contempla-
ted making Estelle Bartell my wife
when I received information from un-
doubted sources that a union with her
would be contamination and result in
my eternal disgrace—the busband of
Mrs. Bartell wasa mulatto.”
“And the girl was his daughter?”
Walter asked, in a hoarse whisper,
“Yes ™
“And—but go on; let me hear all.”
and
Walter fell back in his seat as if
HTS INR
THE BRIDE OF DEATH.
“‘Harry our long friendship will not
Walter Burnham was the sonof a
wealthy New York merchant, Miss
Agnes Draine was a beautiful brunette
of twenty Summers. She was the only
child of Mrs. Gemella Draine a widow |
iady of wealth, who had lately arrived |
from England, bringing with her cre-
dentials from eminent London families,
Jurnham and Miss Draine became
lovers and were eventually betrothed. |
Both were refined and moved in the
highest circles.
Mr. Burnham had known Agnes but
six weeks, yet during that brief period
he had learend to love her passionately
and accepted her jas his fate. Mrs
Dralne gave her consent to the union
and thereby made the happy pair su-
premely blest,
The wedding day was agreed upon—
the following Christmas Eve, but two
months—and Agnes began the prepara-
tions for the happy event.
Time sped on and the lovers lived in
a delightful series of day-dreams, devi-
sing and planning numberless pleasures
for themselves and friends, in fact,
erecting ‘‘air-castles’” so often doomed
are the fruition of their hopes came to
the builders.
“Agnes,” said Walter one day, as
they were seated in the magnificent
drawing-room of her mother’s resi- |
dence, on Fifth avenue, *‘a dear friend |
of ine, Harry Parker, from New Or- |
leans, will be here in a day or two and |
I wish to introduce him to you and
your mother; 1am sure you will like |
him.”
“I shall like all who are favored by |
your friendship,’’ was her reply.
“Thank you, darling,’’ said he, in re- |
turn, kissing the hand he held in his |
DWIL
sompanied Walter to the residence of |
his betrothed and was introduced to |
Agnes, As their eyes met he gavea |
alight almost imperceptible start. Had |
he met her before? Walter asked him- |
self.
It was plainly evident, he thought, |
that Agnes did not know Iarry as a |
former acquaintance, or, possibly she |
had forgotten him. i
Mrs. Draine was absent when the in- |
troduction took place, but came in |
stiortly and Walter presented his friend |
and introduced him.
Mrs. Draine received him most cor- |
dially, giving him her hand, which
Harry pressed in an absent manner and |
seemed somewhat embarrassed as he |
gazed into the smiling countenance of |
the lady. !
He did pot remain long, pleading |
business as an excuse, but at the door |
he whispered to Walter, |
“Come to my hotel alter you leave |
here, I bave something of vital import- i
ance to communicate,”
Walter promised and then thouhtful- |
ly returned to the drawing-room, !
“Your friend is somewhat timid, I|
helieve,” said the elder lady with a |
smile. i
“80 one might judge by his behavior |
this evening,” Walter replied, ‘*but I
assure you he 18 not so usually; quite
the reverse, in fact,” he added, then
asked had either of them met before?
Both answered in the negative and
looked surprised at the question. See-
ing this, Walter remarked:
**I thought it possible that Agnes, at
least, was not altogether unknown to
Yim, judging by the slight start he
gave when their eyes met. I may, how-
ever, have been mistaken, probably the
start was occasioned by strong resemb-
lance,” he added.
“Has he ever been in Europe?’ Mrs,
Draine asked.
“I believe not.”
‘“T'hen we have never met before,”
she rejoined, “for Agnes never saw this
country until four months ago when we
came over from England.”
Walter soon banished the matter
from his mind in the genial conversa.
tion that followed, but on his
leave he at once bent his steps toward
the hotel where Hany was stopping.
His friend recei him a serl-
ous countenance, and at once took him
on x the ‘vitally important
ow for com«
munication,’ ” sald Walter lightly as he
myself to think for a moment that Mrs,
tempt such an outrageous deception.”
“I sincerely hope, for your sake, es-
rejoined, gravely.
I'd advise you to sift the matter thor-
oughly before you ally yourself to Miss
Draine.”’
“When do you return?”
other shortly.
“In two weeks.”
“I'l accompany you,'’ Walter said in
decided tones, *‘[ shail sift this matter
to the bottom and if Agnes
through the ordeal unscathed I shall
ten-fold more for having
asked the
Pp i8Ses
—an impostor—I shall leave her for-
ever.”
It was but thivee weeks from the wed-
ding day when Walter started for New
Orleans, His parting with Agnes was
tender and she wept on his shoulder
when he gave her the farewell kiss,
He gave the ladies a plausible reason
for accompanying Harry to hus South-
ern home, saying he would be absent
but a week at tbe farthest,
If the originals would be proved to be
him.
One letter reached Agnes,
of silence. The week expired, but
Walter did not return, neither
write.
Both Mrs. Dmaine and Agnes grew
lence; and when two weeks passed
without any tidings they became alarm-
asking the cause of hissingular conduct
in reply:
““My son has gone to Europe for an
I presume you know
the cause of it.”
Mrs. Draine hastened to the lady's
residence for an explanation, but the
mistress was not at home whenever
Mrs. Draine called.”
The indignant lady went home and
reported to her daughter how Mrs.
Burnham had insulted her and the in-
girl, for she believed that all was al an
end between her and her beloved; the
cause, however, she could not even con-
jecture,
recipient of numerous notes from her
lady friends and the tenor of each note
was to the effect that they desired their
acquaintance to cease from date,
The unhappy lady was at a loss what
to make of all this, but fearing a repeti-
tion of Mrs, Burnham’s indignities if
she demanded an explanation, she de.
cided to remove from the vicinity,
Christmas Eve arrived and Agnes
had recoverad her wonted spirits, She
spoke about the wedding as if the event
would come off. Her quadroon hand-
maid decked her, at her own request in
her bridal robes and when the hour
drew nigh she was gay as if her beloved
was really present to fulfill his vow.
Her mother chided her gently, fear-
ing her mind was giving away, but Ag-
nes smilingly replied:
“Do not be foolish, mother, dear, for
I assure you that the bridegroom will
not tarry when the nuptial hour is
here, "
They were to have been married at
ten P. M. and when then the hour lack.
ed but fifteen minutes Agnes
mother, who essayed to rise, but the
girl bore ner back into her seat.
The quadroon now came forward and
gently removed the girl and bore ber to
a sofa, saying:
**Missus, Miss Agnes is dead!”
She was indeed the Bride of Death.
We will pass over the terrible grief of
the childless widow. In her utter des.
pair she invoked cuses from Heaven
apofi the destroyer of her child.
“Missus you may be sure that heaven
will curse Waler Burnham,” quietly
remarked Judith, the quadroon, who
had almost worshipped her young mis-
tress.
After the coroners’s inquest had been
held and the verdict rendered (east
disease being the cause assigned) the
body was quietly interred and Mrs,
Draine and her servant mourned in soli-
tude and silenee.
After a period the unhappy lady, in
looking over the effects of her martyred
child, came across a package of letters
Walter had written to Agnes during
their brief acquaintance.
Among them was one of recent date
and Mrs. Dramne eagerly opened it, for
it bore the London postmark
The cause of his singular conduct
was fully explained therein, Walter
had learned the dreadful truth regard-
ing Agnes’ paternal pedigree, (as he
firmly belleved).
Enclosed in the same envelope, was a
letter addressed to Mrs, Draine, this
had been written by Agnes, and its
tenor started the mother’s tears anew.
She simply spoke of her ‘‘tainted
birth,” never once upbraiding her
mother for the disgraceful connection,
In the letter she acknowledged that she
had committed self-destruction.
“Oh, Heaven!’ walled the gnef-
| stricken mother, ‘‘is there no punish-
ment for this man, or rather demon?”
| This last letter had reached Agnes
during her mother’s absence, and the
| quadroon was enjoined by her young
mistress not to mention the matter to
| her (Agnes) mother,
Several days later,
| a flying visit to New Orleans.
lived in stnet seldom
leaving the house,
In the month of
| man called
| but said to Jndith that his
with her mistress was of
| importauce,
“Mr. Burnham,’ said the quadroon,
retirement,
business
the utmost
1"
I'm sure.
She had penetrated his disguise, Mrs.
| Draine met him with a smile, to his
great surprise, she even gave him her
hand, which he listlessly took and as
listlessly pressed, He was thin and pale,
he had evidently suffered too.
“Mrs. Draine,” hestammered, **I am
surprised at this reception, I did not
expect it, and certainly do not merit
is
“Why not?" she asked, in feigned
surprise **I presume you are prepared
to explain your usaccountable baha-
vior, and then make your peace with
my daughter, after which the delayed
nuptials will take place,”
Jurnham started and turned pale at
these words. Had ber terrible grief
dethroned her reason? he asked him-
self, for he had been apprised of the
death of his beloved,
Before he could muster courage to
Judith answered the summons,
“Tell your mistress that her tardy
bridegroom has come,” the lady sald.
The woman left the apartment, and
in a bewildered tone Walter said:
I was informed that your daughter had
died!”
“That was the impression at
ar smile, but there was a mistake.
| hear her footsteps.”
' radiant creature burst into the room
ous exclamation:
| come at last!”
| satisfaction illumined the swarthy
| countenance of Judith,
| Walter now made the explanation
| desired. At New Orleans he had re
i cetved undoubtful proofs, (as he then
| firmly belieyed) that Mrs. Draine had
| deceived him in respect to Agnes’ line.
lage. But while in London in the latter
part of January he obtained indisputa-
ble proof that Mrs, Draine had been
married to a wealthy and respectable
English merchant, who died three years
| later leaving her immensely wealthy,
He hastened home to explain the fa-
tal mistake he had been laboring under,
when the announcement of Agnes’
death almost distracted him.
He came to the bereaved mother to
confess his baseness in deserting his be-
loved without any explanation as to the
cause, and was surprised and delighted
that she still remained to bless him,
“Oh, darling,” murmured the girl,
with blushing cheeks, “even now I fear
something will happen that may sepa-
rate us once more,"
“Nay, dearest,” he rejoined, as he
tenderly embraced her, *‘no power on
earth shall again step between us.”
She smiled sweetly at these words,
when Mra, Draine observed:
““T'o avert a recurrence of that kind
agalu-—-,:o8slbly tricked. I am morally
certain that the girl died and was bu-
ried, How she can be alive and well
passes my comprehension,’
Walter laughed at her fears and assu-
red her that Agnes was alive and well
and was now his bride for all time.
“Your love probably blinds you and
you are contented,” his mother rejoin-
ed, “but before I conseut to receive her
as my daughter I shall have the matter
inquired into.”
“Do, so, mother, if it pleases you,”
he said; with a placid smile,
Mrs. Burnham went to work with a
will; and ere three days had elapsed she
was positively assured that Agnes
Draine was dead as well as burned, Bhe
had interviewed the coroner, the physi -
cian and the undertaker, and each of
them assured her that the girl was re-
ally dead and buried.
But Walter happy fellow only smiled
at all these asseverations, and passed
the hours in his bride’s society.
But the denoument came at last, One
day he incidently remarked to Mrs,
Draine that she had changed considera-
bly in the few months of his absence,
and more especially the last week.
The lady smiled and said:
“Mr. Burnham, you are laboring un-
der a mistake, I am not changed as you
suppose, Possibly you mistake me for
my sister?”’
“Your sister!” he cried in surprise,
“] was not aware that you had a sister,
at all events I have never met her to
my knowledg.”’
“You mistake again,” the lady re-
joined. “You were betrothed to her
child and basely deserted her while la
respect to her lineage.”’
“I do not comprehend,’ he said, as a
cold chill crept over hum,
The door opened at this juncture and
a lady in black, closely veiled, entered,
| and confronted him, then drew aside
| her veil, revealing the pale but trinm-
| phant features of Mrs. Draine,
In his supreme amazement he glanced
| mutely at the two ladies so strangely
{ alike in height and features,
| ed, that he had indeed been tricked.
“I can explain all this seeming mys-
tery,’’ the lady in black said, while she
| regarded the young man with a look of
vindictive hatred.
“This lady-—your mother-in-law-—is
my twin sister, Mrs. Bartell, formerly,
of New Orleans,
“When she married the mulatto,
James Bartell, I immediately left New
{ Orleans and two months after trod on
English soil, where I married, as you
have been informed during your sojourn
in London,
“My daughter—your victim--lies in
her grave,” she continued, ‘‘the girl
you married is her cousin, the daughter
of my sister and the mulatto, James
Bartell! May you ba happy with her!”
Walter rushed from the house in hor-
ror. He told his mother all and once
more became an exile,
Mrs. Bartell ealled on Mrs. Burnham
and forced herself into her presence in
spite of the remoustrances of the ser.
vants who had been instructed not to
admit her.
She was not abashed by the scornful
glances of the haughty dame, but dic-
tated the terms upon which she would
abandon all claims of her daughter
against her lawfully wedded husband.
Her terms were decidedly preposter-
ous-—outrageous, but Mrs. Burnham
would not yield one inch in her de-
{ the lady agreed to the terms
The sum demanded was paid after
| Mrs. Bartell and her daughter had
| affixed their names to the mutual agree-
ment,
enter a suit for conspiracy against Mrs,
Draine,
| had left for parts unknown, and the day
after Mrs, Bartell had effected her finan-
| cial transaction she, too, silently de-
| parted from the city and neither of the
| parties were seen again.
Walter Barnham never returned to
| his native city. He could not face his
| former acquaintances again after his
unhappy mesalilance.
The Red Snow Alga.
| looked upou as the sole ihbabitant of
| the jce-lande of the polar regions, but
| in 1870 Dr. Berggren, botanist of Nord-
enskjold’s expedition, discovered a sec-
to the ‘“‘smow-blossom,” but has this
| peculiarity, that it is never found on
{ snow, but, combined with the kyro-
| konit, it covers enormous tracts of ice,
| giving to them a beautiful purple brown
| tint, which greatly adds to their beauty.
Besides growing on the surface of the
ioe, this red brown alga
in the holes one or two feet deep, and
three or four feet across, in some parts
so numerous and close together that
there was scarcely standing room be-
tween them, A close examination
showed that this very alga was the
cause of these holes, as wherever il
spreads itself it favors melting of the
ico. The dark-brown body absorbs
more heat than either the gray dust or
the snow, therefore it sinks ever deeper
into the hoilows, untii the slanting rays
of the sun oan no longer reach it. Thos
these microscopic a'gae play the same
part on the ice-tields of Greenland, that
small stones do on Earopean glaciers,
T—————
~The Gocdwin Brothers have die-
covered a mustake in the figures on
racing in 1885, made up from the proof-
sheets of “Goodwin's Turf Guide’ for
1885, One whole form (thirty-two
pages) was left out in making up the
With these thirty-two pages
be found that there
were 2768 races run in the United
States last year, for which §1,018,628.50
was given in added money. Instead of
a decrease of $34,520.50 in added money
from 1884, there was an increase of
$11,388.50,
«The im
HOARSE NOTES,
~Meleod’s record is 2.24 to harness,
2.164
~The cherry and blaek of Pierre
Lorillard will be borne by Matt Byrnes’
horses,
~A{3arrison, the joekey, was married
recently to Miss Sadie McMahon, of
Parkeville, N, Y.
—Black bonnets are most favored
for evening wear, and jet is the favor-
ite garniture, lighted up by a bit of
color, red, yellow or blue,
~The Cromwell shoe holds its own
and a pretty make it is, with patent
leather fronts and morocco back, hav-
ing a sumple buckle in front; it is most
becoming to the foot.
~M. Salisbury has arriyed at Lexing-
ton, Ky., from Oakland, Ont., with the
black stallion, Director, 2,17, and the
brood-mares Sweetness, 2.214, by Vol-
unteer; Echora, 2.234, by Echo, and
daughters of Nutwood, Messenger,
Duroe, Gibraltar, Silver Cioud and
Harry Clay.
—R. H. Strode, of Chadd’s Ford,
Pa.. has purchased the dam of Alexan-
der (2.264), from Robert Steel, intend-
ing to breed her to Epaulet. She is a
brown mare, 16 years old, by Bully
King, a son of George M. Patchen;
grand dam Slasher, a thoroughbred.
—The retirement of Commodore N.
| W. Kittson from the trotting turf will
| in no way effect his stable of runners
| located at Erdenheim, Chestnut Hill,
i His trotters and pacers were not active
campalgners last season, and his deci-
ion to withdraw altogether from that
{class of sport, causes little surprise
| among horsemen. Johnston, Minnie
| R., Little Brown Jug, Fannie Wither
| spoon, Blackwood, Jr.. and Firebrand,
| the running mate will be sold; Von
| Armnim and Revenue will be retained at
| Mr. Kittson’s breeding farm at Midway.
{| Dan Woodmansee now has charge of
{ the Kittson stable,
~1t i8 very iuteresting to watch the
expression upon the faces of owners of
| horses during important races in Eng-
(land, Lord Rosebery selects a choice
| cigar and proceeds to eat it.
| of Westminster tries to look as if be
| were interested in anything or anybody
except the Liorses. Lord Cadogan
retires to an isolated spol whence he
can watch proceedings unmolested,
| and apparently studies the mechanism
of his race glasses. Mr. Craven walks
about as if he had arrived by accident,
and wondered what it all meant. Mr.
Leopold de Rothschild selects the crit-
ical moment in a race for appropriating
and summarily devouring the choicest
article ofjfood at hand. Lord Arling-
ton turns the color of a sheet, and for-
cibly suggests a rough passage across
the channel, Sir John Astley is always
pleased, and greets fortune with a
broad grin whatever happens, although
occasionally even he 1s forced to dis-
simulate.
The duchess of Montrose invariably
seeks solitude, end if soccessful
emerges like a jack-in-the-box from
some totally unexpected quarter. Lord
Hartington is never pleased, and views
the proceedings with an expression of
countenance worthy of Torquemada
himself. The Prince of Wales, although
unsuccessful is always imperturbable,
and no matter what happens has always
a kind smile and a genial remark for
all his friends.
We understand the Coney Island
Jockey Club has purchased additional
ground, as we stated it would a few
new
course for two-year-old races. Itis not
likely that 1t will be used the coming
| season, but it would be very handy for
| the 2-year-olds, whose fields, especially
| at the autumn meetings, are too large
| for our old-fashioned *‘circus rings.”
—The entire stable belonging to
Pierre Lorillard was sold at the Ranco-
| cas Stock Farm at Jobstown, N. J.,
lon the 27th, in the presence of a large
| crowd of horsemen from all parts of the
| country. The bidding was lively
{ throughout, the heaviest purchasers
being the Dwyer Brothers, of Brooklyn,
|and Charles Reed, of Gallatin, Tenn.
| The largest price received was $29,000,
| which was paid by the Dwyer Brothers,
| for Dew Drop. Pontiac was knocked
| down to the Dwyers for $17,500, who
| also secured Winfred for $13,000. The
| three-year-old chestnut colt Cyclops,
| was bought by Charles Reed for $10,500.
| Twenty-seven thoroughbreds were sold,
| the proceeds aggregating $149,050,
| The sale was considered by all present
| the most successful one of the thorough-
| breds that has been held In this country
| for years,
| ~The old notion that there is luck in
| a borse shoe finds support in one case
|at least. When Maud 8. did her first
| really fast mile at Cleveland, in 2,104,
| Captain Stone, of Cincinnati, who
| owned her, pulled off her shoes and
| stored them in his desk, and sold the
mare to Vanderbilt for a snug price.
{ie has been making money ever since,
and capturing the best things of life.
The Captain kept only one of the shoes,
He gave one to Mrs, Swain, and she
gave it to her larger brother, He
hadn't had it a week before he was
married to one of the most charming
ladies in New York, He has been
prospering like a green bay tree ever
since, and has had the shoe plated and
framed, and wouldn't take a Florida
lot for it. Mr. Vanderbilt had one of
the shoes, and used to think that it had
a happy influenee on his efforts to turn
an honest penny. Cornelius owns it
now, and has it fastened on the
front of his writing-table, The
fourth shoe {3 in of William
Bair, Maud 8.s driver, Bair thinks
that if he had not had the shoe stuffed
in the ballast of his sulky cushion, he
never would have been able to have
tten the work out of the little mare
that he has since the piece of steel came
FASHION NOTES
— Mikado sateens 1s in all colors with
Javanesque designs,
—Dark chintzes have pansy, rose and
honeysuckle designs.
—Wool canvas with satin stripes is
shown in all colors,
—Crepe mosale with small figure is
used for evening dresses,
Crepe de ehine, in evening colors,
is rich! embroidered.
— Amber is much used for necklaces,
combs and hairpins,
—Ruchings of embroidered crape are
in all the evening colors,
—(#inghams with tufted spols are
shown in all the leading colors.
—Jeweled pins confine small bunches
of flowers to shoulders or corsage.
—Full skirts and round waists are
the features of little girls’ frocks,
Garnet hair ornaments and jewelry
in many new devices are again in high
vogue,
—To keep pace with the collars, belts
of jet are shown, and now comes silver
in many varieties
— White silk handkerchiefs, with Jap-
anese designs on the broad hemstitched
borders, are called “Mikado.”
—Cloth of gold or silver on colored
ground, the “samite” of ‘‘ages long
gone by,” is made up in evening mane
ties.
—*“How is the front hair worn is?”
the question asked, It is drawn from
the forehead a little, and worn in small
ringlets on each side. Of course, a few
still cling to the regular “*Langtry,”” as
becoming almost any face. Also, many
ladies, to whom the high coiffure is not
becoming, still wear the Langtry knot
3
Blondes who adopt this fashion,
bies or garnets. Flowers are still worn
— There is great diversity of opinion
as to the probable popularity of ribbons
From all indications
there will be great use made of them
both for exceptionally fine wear, and for
ordinary purposes, The medium grades
of millinery indicate the use of scarfs
and designs. With fine flowers and on
crape bonnets very delicate gauze rib-
bons will be the favorite trimming.
Double-faced satin ribbon is less stylish
than almost any sort in market, and
gross grains in plain goods are not con-
sidered specially desirable. A great
many satin and velvet ribbons will be
used and some of the new goods of this
grade are very elegant. Crape bonnets
with velvet and satin ribbon trimmings
will be among the summer novelties
from Paris.
lil ———
A Yankee genius has invented a con-
trivance which is supposed to be an im-
provement on the old-fashioned pole
holding up an old hat and tattered coat
It is
a scarecrow windmill with sleigh bells
attached, The wind makes the fans
go around and they jingle the bells,
Not a single instance of color-blind-
ness has been found by Schwarzbach,
Malays, Melanesians, Australians,
Mooris and Poiynesians ; and he con-
cludes that the defect is confined to the
white race and is due to influences con-
nected with civilized life.
A foreigner claims to have discovered
a simple remedy for catarrh by which
he has cured several hundred cases. We
give it for what it is worth. It con-
water, rubbing vigorously with a coarse
towel ; from two to four applications
are sufficient.
An Italian ship has been sheathed
with glass plates, cast like iron p
80 as to fit the hull, to take the place of
copper sheathings, The joints of the
plates are made water-tight by the
of water-proof mastic. The advan
claimed for glass over copper are its
intensibility to oxidation and its exemp-
tion from incrustation.
The thirty-inch object-glass of the
new telescope at Pulkowa, the greatest
refractor in the world, has been care-
fully tested, and so excellent have been
its performances that the rarely-be-
stowed tnbute of the honorary gold
medal of the Russian Esapire has been
conferred upon its makers—the Messrs,
Clark, of Cambridge, Mass,
A fine skeleton of the sea~-cow (Rhy-
tind gigas) has just been procured from
Behring’s Island for the British Muse-
um. AS recently as 1741 this large but
measuring some
abundant off the shores of Alaska and
Kamschatka, but has now become
totally extinct.
A soundly-built chimney vibrates, or
swings from side to side, as a wh
under sudden and violent shocks
wind, and is in reality safer when it