SOME TIME. Some time, when all life's lessons have been earned. And sun and stars forevermore have set, fhe things which our weak judgment here has spurn’'d, The things o'er which we griev'd with lashes wet, Will flash before us out of life's dark nicht, As stars shine most in deeper tints of blue; And we shall see how all God's pl.os were right, And how what seemed reproof was love most true. And weshall see, while we frown and sigh, God's plans go on as best for you and me; How, when we called, he heeded not our ory, Because his wisdom to the end could see, And e'en as prudent parents disallow Too much of sweet [2 eraving babyhood, So God, perhaps, 1s Keeping from us now Life's sweetest things because it seemeth good. wine, Be sure a wiser hand than yours or mine Pours out this potion for our lips to drink, And if some friend we love is lying low, Where human kisses cannot reach his face, Oh. do not blame the loving Father so, But bear your sorrow with obedient grace! And you shall shortly know that lengthened breath Is not the sweetest gift God sends his friends, And that, sometimes, the sable pall of death Conceals the fairest boon his love can send. If we could push a ajar the gates of life, And stand within, and all God's workings see, We could interpret all this doubt and strife, And for each mystery could find a key. But not to-day. Then be content, poor heart; God's plans, like lilles pure and white, un- fold. ‘We must not tear the close-shut leaves apart— Time will reveal the ealyxes of gold. And if, through patient toil, we reach the land, Where tired feet, with sandals loose, may rest, When we shall elearly know and understand, _ TI think that we will say that “God knew best. — Religious Herald. AROUND THE RAINBOW. A gapbled day, a day in June— Two barefoot boys, a thoughtful man; A rainbow bridging in its span The vast, still Sabbath afternoon. Some drops of rain. He caught us up, “ft is not far to church.’ he sald. My brother pillowed his black head My head was as the bultercup. And then I slept. 1 slept and dreamed That we did round the rainbow’s bend. And oh, the gold there without end: A very sea of gold it seemed! I clutehad both hands tight full. I eried, “Now care shall leave my father's face, Now want shall never leave his trace On baby brother at my side, I wakened with exultant head, I wakened with a boy sh shout, 1 wakeped with both hands reached out, But empty as a man’s that's dead! I still recall my quiver in For oh, such grief! 1 eoul My brother brushed from off my cheek Some drops of rain as we p Ls d in. g chin, id it spenk And yet the memory of that day, That dappled rainbow day in June, That one all-giorfous afternoon, When I had gold to give away! t am I sad, fous Hrow, Give back that one brief tim Take all for that one afternoon, When my warm heart was full « And my wee hands were full of gol —Joaquin Miller, in Youth's Companion. - —-——— - an HOW KITTY SAW THE FAIRIES. BY MARY C. PENNIMAN, “Bat there are no such things as fairies!” “No such things as fairies!” said little Kitty in amazement. “No, of course not; only babies be- lieve such nonsense now-a-days.” So Master Joe 1n all his dignity of jacket and trousers, pronounces, look- ing contemptuounsly at the little face disturbed by the great her cherished faith. 1t is only oneo ins while that you find a boy who hel in fairies, and I am afraid broth: not always as gentle as they might be in differing with their sisters. “But there aliock to Hesieves thal Lg ¥ Are I'S Are are, too: I kn are, and i'll ask mamma.” Mamma could not Master Joe's opinion, never seen a fairy. “] know there are such things,” said Kitty, “I hope I'il metime. This conversation ocourred in grand- yw there quite confirm but she had S66 One 8 dren had come to keep Christmas, Buch a pleasant parlor, with lots of places for ehildren to get into and tell andma's flowers; old-fashioned owers many of them, roses, pinks, geraninms, gilly flowers, with ivy and vines creeping all about. Little Kitty loved grandma's flowers dearly; she thought the iaries would like to stay among them. eonversation that Kitty was standing the bigger boys skate, mamma had gone shopping, and there were only itty and grandma at home. Grandma sat by the fireside with ber book, while Kitty looked at her lovely flowers, and wiched she could pee a fairy. now out of these flowers.” She sat down the window in a beantiful china jar, This would be a splendid place for them she thonght, As she looked she saw a queer old man, with the thinnest of legs in bright yellow stockings, snd such puffy orange and yellow-striped knee- breeches. He rubbed his eyes and yawned as Le peered down at her. “Why, it'ss fairy!” said Kitty. “To be sure,” said the little man, “did yon never sce a fairy before? Oh! I forgot you are one of the modern children; they don’t believe in fairies snd so can't see thems, but yon shall.” He pulled a green wire as he spoke, and set all the bells of the maple danc- No sooner had he done this than a brisk young fairy, dressed in pink and white, ippeated under the tree. “Here I am!” said he, “the first one, too. Where is her majesty?” “‘Her majesty could not come,” said a sweet voice, “She sent a sunbeam to tell me to take her place.” Pini:ie bowed low, cup in hand, “Your highness 1s most welcome,” he suid, ‘‘1 await your highness’ com- wands,” Buch a tiny fairy, in a besutiful orimson dress, with a coronet on her dark bair, and a wand in her hand, There were more fairies in the jar now. How they came Kitty could not tell, but they thronged around tae little fairy erying: ‘“‘Long live Princess Rosa! Welcome to the fairy maple, your highness,” and the little old man rang such a peal that 1t was heard in the ierncry that stood in the corner, and the timid wild-wood fairies came flying to the jar. Kitty started when she heard the bells. “Why, I have heard that sound before in the woods!" she eried. ‘“L'o be sure you have,” man, fairy smd: looking for us many a time. She is welcome,” “Form a ring, my { dance.” | Ina moment they had formed a cir- cle, and danced round and round the tree till Kitty was almost dizzy watch- ing them. "Then they stopped and friends; let us | to each other. *“T'imes are changed,” said one fairy. ““Onoe the children often came to our but now they care nothing about us.” tall fairy, who had recognized Kitty. ““] see more mortals than almost any i one of us, unless it may be Ivy here, and { I can tell yon there are some children, yes, and grown people, too, who care for us.” know how they look for us, and whisper their wishes to us.” to a great many of their haunts that he bright things, but a great many chil- dren have a sort of fairyland of their own; not like ours, vou know, for their beantiful dresses and toys tear and soil same, but when theirs are fresh they are lovely, and they are so taken up with them that they haven't time to care for us. Then they have so many parties of their own that they don't care for our dances, and sometimes their mothers give so much attention to all these fine things that they never think to tell them of the fairies, and so they never even hear of them, Scarlet's friend, little Kitty doesn’t think so much of fine thi but that she can love the flowers and fairies.” “One thing more,” said a tall, beanti- ful fairy, the loveliost of them all, with pure white robes and pale golden hair oked like the beantiful sngel in the church window, Kitty thought, “It is only good snd gentle little chil- | dren who can see us; children who love each other and are mas. We couldn't bave ill-tempered, greedy or rude children find us—we should vanish away instantly.” “Halloo!” eried Joe, flinging open the door with a bang. “What are you doing there, you little stupid?” “Hush! fairies!” “Fairies, indeed! I guess so; where?” Kitty pointed to the jar, but the fairies had vanished. ““T'} thing there, you little goose! You've been dre There, don't ery. I don’t meanto plague yon," for the sil Kitty's eves, and Joe was a kind-heart DOY in spite roughness, I little ol! man just peeped out from the maple boughs 1d nodded as Joe put his arm around the little girl in i shame- faced WAY. Kitty “Ia it catch it 3 . hastily stretched out his hand, the fairy vanished ngs she | “said Kitty. ‘Just see ere is tears start to Of nis e oh ay, : i" Hoa Joo “I'll rly pointed eaz a butterfly?’ sail Joe. fOr YO He but “It was a fairy, Joe, did you really see it?” Joe looked puzzled. “I saw some wings flattering, but can’t find aaything. Are there really fairies after all?” li —— the germs into the throat and lungs, Maine shows an increase of popula- { tlon in the whole State of 12,150, Tea gowns of figured China silk vary men officiated as pallbearers, Somezpovr has eomputed | thirty-two million hands they coul earth. STREET CLEANING experiments in New York City show marked advant- ages of the ‘‘block” system over the ! machine system. that i THE TYRANNY OF MOOD. Margaret J. Preston, in Sunday Afternoon. I. MORNING, It Is enough: 1 feel, this golden morn, As if a royal appanage were mine, Through Nature's queenly warrant of di. vine Investiture, What prinecas, palace born Hath right of rapture more, when skies adorn Thanttdives so grandly ; when the mountains shine Transfigured ; when the alr exalts like wine; When pearly purples steep the yellowing corm? Ho satisfied with all the good lines Of God's good world-—my bets g to (ts brim) Sureharged with utter thank fulness no less Than bliss of beauty, passionately glad Through rush of tears that leaves the land. seape dime "Whe dares," I ery, “In such a world be sad” IL HIGHT, 1 press my cheek against the window.pane, And gaze abroad into the blank, black space Wheres earth and sky no more have any lacs, Wiged from existences by the expunging rain ; And as | hear the worried winds complain, A darkness darker than the murk whose trace Invades the cirtained room Is on my face, Beneath which life and iife’s best ends seem vain, My swalling aspirations viewloess sink As on Sloud-b otted hills: hopes that shone Tight An planets yoster-eve, like them jo night Are gulfed, the impenetrable mists belore ah weary world, (1 ery), how dare | think Thon has} for me ous gleam of gladness THE 8ST, CLAIR TUNNEL, Of all engineering work that which is least certain is what is called sub- aqueous tunnelling—that is driving tun- nels under rivers or other bodies of water, Usually the tunnel must be driven in clay or river silt or sand and ravel, with, in any case, more or less oose rock and boulders. The trouble is to keep a tight roof, and, if the ma- torial is very soft, to keep the tunnel itself in shape. There is great danger that the water will break through the roof and flood | the work, or that the sides of the tun. | nel may be crushed in by the pressure | ot the water and the half-fluid material beneath it. The St. Clair Tunnel is the latest subaqueous tunnel completed, | and is one of the most remarkable in the world. The tunnel is six thousand | | feet long, about a mile and one-seventh. | Including the open cuttings on each end, the work is eleven thousand six hundred feet long. it was driven through blue clay. | Above the tunnel flows a swift river, | forty feet deep. Between the tunnel ! and the river is from fifteen to twenty { feet of clay, sand and gravel. | The work was done by an almost un- | tried method. When it is complete it! { will have cost about three million dol- | lars, The novelty and magnitude of this | work, the difficulties met, and the bold- | ness and speed with which it was done, | have made it a matter of great interest i to engineers all over the world, and | perhaps the boy who intends to bea civil engineer will also be interested in | | & short account of it, The Grand Trunk Railway crosses the St. Clair River from Sarnia, On- | tario, to Port Huron, Michigan. About | sixty traios cross there now by ferry, and at least seventy will go through the tunnel every day when 1t is completed. | On the St. Clair River there is a ship- ping commerce five times as great as that which passes through the BSuaez | Canal, The river is from half to three-qnar- ters of a mile wide, and the current flows at from six to eight miles an hour. For many years trains been taken across on great ferry-boats, Thi is comfortable enough for passengers, but it takes up precious time; the boats are expensive to keep up and operate, and in winter, when the rive of floating ice, the delays an sorious To carry the tunnel, which it was de- cided to build here, through clay, with occasional pockets of gravel and quick- sand, and with a great river flowing only fifteen feet overhead, was a diffi- eunlt problem, thick. The plates at the forward end of the tube were sharpened to a cut ting edge all around the ewrcumfer- cuoe, This tube was stiffened by steel plates put in up sad down and crosswise, di- viding the inside into square cells Five feet from the back end of the tube was a partition, also of steel plates, in which were two square doors near the bottom. The men worked in the front part of the tube, cutting down the clay and throwing it back throngh the doors Then it was loaded into small cars, and | hanled away to the rear on a narrow | railroad track, by mules or It was decided to do the work ins of steel tubes, called shields, which should be pushed ahead as the work advanced, and to line the tannel with rings of cast iron as fast as th i went forward. In this way th of collapse of the tannel wor avoided, { it wonld be finished as fast as it was dug. Bat to keep tl terial from flowing 0 the tu Was that was done will | One shiek! nave ® ris I cost Bre horses, ie al practically i i i wh was siarted vigan side aud one from tl! & de, : dian { One font twenty and six eter, and filteen feet, three inches jor It was made of steel plates one inch There was a second track to bring the empty cars. As fast as the shield went forward the tunnel was lined with rings of cast iron. Each of these rings was twenty- one feet in diam ter and eighteen inches long, measured in the direction of the { length of the tunnel, The ring, bein of less diameter than the shield, a etter the rear of it; and so there was | always a complete tube of steel and iron from the face of the clay where the men were d ging, to the entrance of the tunnel, Each of the iron rings is made of thirteen pieces of cast iron, each of which weighs about hall a ton. The | pieces are bolted together, and each | completed ring is bolted to the oue | behind it so that the tunnel is lined with a continuous tube of iron two inches thick and water-tight. The | east-iron lining weighs about twenty- | | soven thousand tons. The shields were | | pushed forward by hydraulic jacks i The hydraulic jack isa eylinder into which water is foreed; and the water, | | entering, pushes a piston just as the steam in a locomotive cylinder pushes the piston to one end or the other of that eylinder. Each shield had twenty-four of these | jacks in the rear end, placed in a circle | close to the shell, or outside plates of | the tube, and also > placed that when their pistons were Ries out they | would push against the oast-iron ring forming the lining of the tunnel. They oould push with a force of three | thousand tons—a power sufficient to lift | 3% bodily a large ocean steamship. | This tremendous power was found to | be twice as much as was needed to foree | the shield forward in the clay. At each step the shield was pushed along eighteen or twenty inches. Then a new ring was added to the tunnel lining; the clay was out down as far as it could be dome safely, and carried away. Then the shield was pushed for. ward another step. This was all very simple so long as the work wns under th edry land; but when it reached ont under the river it was necossary to find some way to keep the water ont. Otherwise when seams of loose material wore struck, water would have poured in and flooded the tunnel, and that would have ended the matter, To prevent thus oompregsed i air was used, { Every one knows that he ean hold up a column of water with & colummbof air, nehes in dis in Let him fill a U-shaped glass tube half full of water, hold it upright, with the open ends upward, and blow into one end of it. The water will rise in the other leg of the tube, and the harder he blows the higher the water will rice, and the from water, Now, if one conld put afly in the dry leg of the tube and stop the end of it, the water would be held in the other pleasure, dry-shod. promod air has long been used in deep of the tube was the tunnel; the wet leg was the river, and the workmen the flies, were AFTERNOON TEA-CAKES, Dainty cakes are always a welcome inlly if home-made, and so I venture to LEMON CAKES, Into three quarters of a und of this deseription I speak of one half of the tunpel, It was built from the United btates side and from the Cana- disn side, simultaneously, and the work at each end was entirely independent of that at the other, until the headings met under the mid le of the river. A brick partiaon, eight feet thick, the tunnel just where it mesed telow the edge of the river, I'his was to hold the air in the was always kept up to the point where it balanced the weight of the water overhead, one goes, and the mgher the columu of must be carried. The men mules and elay ears went in the partition with a door at each end, both doors opening against the pressure—that is, toward the working end of the tunnel. the air in the lock was allowed to caps until the outer door opened, hen one entered the lock, shut the door and opened a valve by which compressed air from the tun. nel shead was let into the lock, the pressure there anal with ths the tunnel ahead, the conld be ope { and one could into the tunnel, To Was reversed, I'he painfa the r iOcK, sure suffer severe pain in equal pressure on the . mietlimes tl © £V Call of Wd d wir get out the process Wis 0) Wik eq inner 1 part of the journe at the time when the § 8 COAL i he I pe ypia of the ears from v two sides o ear drum, and ms is 80 great that tl After one the compres there 1s a tre working in comj : disables a good many men and kills few. The men call 1t “the bends.” is a paralysis, mo i of the muscles of the Lis i sed air tf i ube which “ vressed Gad somot often it is so; and sometimes it is very paiufal indeed. At the St Clair Tan- nel there were three deaths from this cause. Horses could not work in compressed air, but mules stood it well, occasionally one of them wa visited with the “"benda”™ The pressure of air carried P nnds to the square inch at first, a: twenty-three pounds when the midd of the river was reached, At Was run op to was forty thean pressures HOTosl almos teen § B mao pumping out any into the tunnel di other machinery for lighting it electricty. There were hoisting en- gines and derricks with which to lift to the surface the dump cars as they m npressin provided ir drained Arit work, and { with It happened repeatedly that the shields, as they were forced forward, entered pockets of gravel or quicksand going deep down into the blue clay. Then the air would escape through the loose material, and the water would begin to flow in. Generally this could be stopped soon by ineressing the quantity of air pumped in, but not eiwsys. Sometimes the ai blew out through the bottom of the the flow of water. More than once it seemed an if the tunnel would be flooded in spite of all ineers were always able, by plaster clay, and by working the air-compres- sors up to a pressure of as much as forty pounds to ‘he square inch, to hold back the water long enough to get the shield through the loose gavel into the clay beyond. On the thirtieth day of Augast, 1800, the shield from the United States shore met that from the Canada, under the middle of the river. This was just one ear after they started on their strange ourneys; and I do not believe that ende, on the Fourth of July, 1863, was happier or more thankful than was the chief engineer of the St. Clair Tun- nel on this August day.—H. G. Prouvr, in Youths’ Companion, i Fashion never seems to tire of the polka dot. Flowers are worn invariably at the end of a round waist, The imported gowns and wraps show many ribbon bows, The true cornfiower blue has a pur- plish lavender cast, In spite of the attractive grenadines, lace nets are good sellers, A girl in Jowa recently ran away from home to avold practicing on the plano. The daughters of the Princess of Wales are reported as having no taste iu clothes. 1 | the grated rind of one lemon, and a powder, well beaten egus; devide into rough pieces, place on a buttered tin, minutes. When done, and while hot, slit castor sugar over them. COCOA-NUT CAKES, Into half a j ound of flour mix a quar- lard, add six onopces of castor sugar, one a dessertspoonful of baking powder, Whip the whites of two eges to a stiff add a little milk if not enough, and bake above ins moderate oven. SPONGE FINGERS, deat two egos er of a pound of castor sugar; grated rind and juice of half a small Drop on buttered papers long fingers, not near each other, The oven should be very quick, and the '' a delicate brown. drop the mixture, {oo if 1t inelines to run, These very nice dipped in chocolate icing. OBWEGO CARE. Quarter of of corn-flour, a pound der. Beat sugar and | rn a rather moderate in o Jake ia flower and powder. shallow tin, buttered, COCOA CONES, pound of grated nut, one teaspooninl of W hip eges stiflly, adding Ii un beat In nat ar L000 Rf I CONOR, § five egg whites, anda narter « ut a gus Deal to 8 ore ingr Drop it i or H with four, Place cakes 1 ¢ $ and a hail apart Ht NIP, ub five of butter und of flour; add three quarters of ur & i » A iil jaarier id nnd of very coarse su i of an ou: reak an egg rether haat ROOe4 bake in a brisk yen RTING OUunoes > wit | | bake on butiere FOOD oo THOUGHT, Hoid fast by the present, Every moment 1s of infinite value, Truth is Like a torch ; when shaken 1% shines, i Some men have to die to head a pro- | cession, | Presumption begins in ignorance and { ends in ruin, There is a vast deal of loving words, vital alr In We would all bs rich, but the Lord cannot trust us. All is not lost | contrary to you. when thing goes any Amo~ 7 the books that help most peo | ple is tne pocketbook, What we ought not to { not think of doing. The golde: stalr appears to only reliable fire-escape. do we should be the Some people only understand enough of a truth to reject it, He who is never satisfed with any- | thing satisfies uo one, Don’t growl at this world until you are sure of a betler one. The raddest thing under the sky is a soul Incapable of sadness, Few persons live to-day, but are pre- | paring Ww do 80 to-morrow, A prudent man (s like a pin, his head | prevents nim going too far, ieputation will do for the present; | time will attend to the future, | The man who laid up money for a | rainy day just struck it last winter, The man who turns leaf Over a new {| A single grateful thought toward | Heaven is the most effeciive prayer. i About the only objection thus far to | the pew wear is that it ends in naught, Don’t allow yourself to be carried away with enthusiasm-—you may have {10 walk back, Hypocrisy may pass muster on earth, ' but there will be no masquerading in re’s tendency is restore the «+ 25 a man gets “short” his face 4, vO happiness is in danger to compare her hus i, or inattention, : to kKrowiedge as are im- where men’s best efforts you nd the saving grace of woman's dream yourself into a 1 must hammer and forge iracler; you yourself one. There willa g for w © | afternoons. The eccentricities of a great man fur nish more material for his biographers | than his deeds. must be beaten or bruised sweet scent will come ways be something worth there are shimmery LUving 4 The heart and then the * ous The man who prays loudest and long- est usually has something on Con ence, his SON _ more than reality, makes and can make them SOomparn men happy wretched. the who most gels s younz ls has § me One ‘ » Liat . sptance of truth ines and be ver the gate there f1le8 + said on bolb vonnd ad i § of half a iI six eggs; Wh sk ai iT ounces of gr of itter canal SUZAr ar } and lemon rind, and sift in half a pound of fine flour, Place buttered tins, and Lake in good oven. INVALID CAKE, Three ounces of flour, two ounces of batter, two ounces of castor sugar, two 0 powder, grated rind of half a lemon. Beat butter and sugar in a basin to a beat well, then add the second egg and rema nder of the flour, lemon rind, and lastly the powder. or two, then pour into a small round tin, well buttered, and dusted with sugar, and bake in good oven. with a tablespoonful and a half of water Beat it free from lumps, heat before and ornament with a few GRENOISE CAKES, Beat a quarter of a pound of fresh butter to a white cream with a wooden spoon, add to it four ounces of powder- od loal sugar, and beat till light and white; then add one egg and beat smooth, then add three eggs, singly, and always beating between eac Lastly, mix in lightly s quarter of a rand of fine flour, and as soon as you ave beaten it smooth ur out ona well-buttered plate and put into the oven af once. Bake till done (in about ten or fifteen minutes) and turn out, underside up, on a sieve to cool Spread on half the cake some apricot jom, place the other half of the cake on top, and with a sherp knife cut into nedt squares or diamonds. loe over top with the icing flavored with vanilla URRMAN BISCUITS, One pound of flour, half a pound of butter, half a pound of fine sugar, one ege, and a good pmeh of baking. powder. Rub dry ingredients together and mix to & paste with the egg well whisked; roll out thin and cut into round cakes. Moderate oven to bake them a pale brown. Put in pairs with jam beween and icing on top. The true essence of true nobility isthe neglect of self. Let the thought of self pass in, and the beauty of great actio) is gone like the bloom of a soiled tow er. How many things thers is to laughat 'in this world to the girl who has pretty teeth and dimples, Harsh counsels have no effect; they are like hammers which are always repulsed by the anvil, Blessed is the man who at forly has | the fire of twenty and the peace of sev- enty together in his soul, Strange, isn’t it, that a stately wo- | man’s carriage shows to the best advan- tage when she walks. It is ths lawyer that asks a suspension | of publie opinion until he has secured his fee 10 a criminal case. Not the cry, but the flight of a wild | duck, says a Chinese author, leads the flock to fly and follow, The Lord used tus one pattern for all men, but he cut the majority of them smaller than the patiern. When the weather is cold and mises able it is not difficult to find many men | who bave » on better days, Ifa young «an wants bright prospects ne should hurry up and make Lhem L ight bY rucbing agaiust the world, Great sculs are always loyally subd | missle, reverent to what Is over thems | only small, mean souls are otherwise, | Train a boy to be brave and to speak | the truth, and you have done your best |b him; the rest he must do for his self, Nothing ean be had for nothing, | What ever a ma: achieves he must pay { for; and uo favor of fortune can absolve him from his duty. The art of getting rich consists not in | industry, much less in saving, but in a beiter onder, Limeliness in being at the right spot, | The way to emancipate man is to | make bim so large that you can’t afford bo furnish iron enough to wake a foi | ber. | No matter how good a man may be, he does not like to have people think he | could not be wicked If he stould try. ! The man who bh asts that he kee | “rquare with the world” does well t. remember that a cipher can do the same, How strange it 1s that most men would rather be fattersd for ng what they have not, than to be jusily praised for having what they possess, The feeble tremble before public | opinion, the foolish defy it, the wise fudge it, the skilful direct it
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