The Rattle or the Bones.
How many lionea in the human taoe T
Fourteen, when they're ail in place.
How uiauy itonea in the human heed 7
Eight, my ohild, as I've oiten said.
Itow many li 'lies in tho human ear?
Three in o ICII, and they help to hear.
How m my bones in the human apino 7
Twenty-six, like a climbing vine.
How many bones in the htimau chest 7
Twonty-ionr ribs, and two of the rest.
How many bones the shoulders hind 7
Two in oaeh-ono belore, one behind.
How many bones in the human arm?
In each arm one; two in each forearn
Itow many benea in the human wrist 7
Eight in each, if none sre missed.
How many bones in tho palm of the hand 7
Five in each, with many ahand.
How many bonee in the Angers ten 7
Twenty-eight, and by joints they bend.
How many bones in the human hip ?
One in each tike a dish they dip.
How many bones hi the human thigli 7
One in each, and deep they lie.
How many bones in the human knees 7
One in each, the kneepan, please.
How many bones in the log troui the kuee 7
Two in each we can plainly see.
How many bones in the ankle strong 7
Seven in each, but none are long.
How many bones in the ball of the loot 7
Five in each, as the palms were put.
How many bones in the toes hall a i-care 7
Twenty-eight, and there are no more.
And now, altogether, these many bonee Ax,
And they count in the body, two hundred and
six
And t-uon we ha\ c, in the human month
Ot u tper and under, thirty-two teeth.
And now and then bare a bone I should think
That tonus on a joint or to All up A chink.
A sesamoid bone or a worm oan we call,
And now we may rest tor we've told litem all,
lnd anapolit Sentinel.
An Unexpected Meeting.
It wits A stnnii. onc*tory frame struc
ture, presenting some of the character
istics of a cabin ami cottage, built only
a little way in from the road, and ap
proached from it by a narrow wooden
bridge, under which meandered, in
temperate seasons, a gentle stream, hut
which, in the fprvid vigor of the sum
mer and the rigor of the winter, was
dry and sil?nt.
Away down in a meadow behiud this
little senlry-toix WHS a large farmhouse,
with a colony of smaller buildings
springing up about it, and back of those
was a wood, rising precipitously: to the
brow of a protecting hill.
IU summer-time this homestead of
farmer Oilman was a smiling, shady
place to look upon, as was, indeed, all
the country in which nestled the ham
let of Fairbank, distant a couple of
miles away; but now that the iron fet
ters of winter were on everything, it
looked cold, cheerless and uninviting.
It had been snowing all day—snow
was everywhere. It was on the rich
pasture Innds. on the closely-shaven
meadows, on last year's tillage; it
crowned fences, and maintained a pre
carious existence on the roofs of houses;
it rendered sightless gaps in broken
roads, and lent a treacherous expansion
to highways; it, in short, blotted ou
the ordinary landmarks, and was on
great, white, taringeyesore on the fare
of the landscape.
Night had come on. and with it in
creased activity on the part of the storm.
It was bitUrly cold, too, and there was
an edge on the air like a knife.
It was a night to enjoy a grateful
meal and a comfortable fireside, and
this was what May Seflon was prepar
ing for her father's" return in the tittle
cot'age by the roadside.
The ample stove was aglow with the
crackling wood-fire; the bright lamp
light illumined the neat, decorous little
kitchen; the old easy-chair wore a look
of expectation as it stood by the tnbl
that awaited the burden of the substan
tial supper, snd the blue-eyed rose-bud
herself was blithely singing snatches of
a ditty, as if in definnce of the gloom
and storm without.
For a dozen years and upward May
Sefton had occupied this same abode
with hCT father, and had been his sole
companion and housekeeper.
About that time George Heft on had
made his first appearance in Fail bank,
bringing with him little else than a fair'
sweet child of four or five years old,
and carrying about him an air of sup
pressed sufiering that silenced in
quiries, albeit that (t somewhat excited
curiosity. But this curiosit" was sat
isfied and turned to sympathy when it
was learned that the strangei had re
cently huried bis partner, an<' that the
golden-haired child he so tenderly cher
ished was motherless.
Georgo Sefton had not furnished Fair
bnuk with this information in so many
words. From the day of his arrival
o the time whereof we write, he had
never opened h** lips on the subject of
his antecedents.
Abraham Oilman, or old Abc.jis he
was morn universally called, to distin
guish him from a younger Abe, had
ones asked George, when they wcie
working in the fields together, if he wns
nut a widower like himself, whereat
* he's new employee had bent his head,
and then maintained a silence so impres
sive that the tact was taken for granted,
and never after discussed.
As for May, if questioned on the suh
fect, she could only tall of a big town
and a large house, and a fine lady that
used sometimes to kiss her, and who,
<>nc night, she was told by has faihosr
had died and was buried away for ever
mocr.
"Six o'clock." cries May, stopping
her warbling to laugh up in the face of
the old clock thst chimed the hour.
" Six o'clock," she laughs,as she turns
the fragrant rashers in the oven, and
eAets a searching glance at lbs table to
see that it contains all her own home
made dainties. "Father will be here
presently. I wonder if Abe will—
Hush, you nsugiity thing," she adds,
under her or rath., and prosing her
hands to her rosy month. as she hears a
crunching sound drawing nigh.
The sound draws marer till it stops
lUfr'de, when thers <s s scraping and
i tamping of feet, sad then the door
opens, and a fragrant, warm smell, and
a bright gleam of light, and a smile ot
delicious youth ami innocence stream
out in the face of the night and salute
the intruders.
The first to enter is a man, tall, and
slightly bent, with a thin, aged face,
and a fair, long beard, plentifully leav
ened with gray hairs. lie bends down,
with an air not quite in keeping with
his homely garb, and in presses a fer
vent kiss on the sweet, upturned face
that greets him. He then steps aside
with a courteous movement and dis
closes the figure of a robust youth, with
a beardless face wreathed in smiles,
half-diflldent. half-assured, altogether
guileless.
"Come in, Abe," says the little
hostess, as he beams at her from the
doorway.
Smiling, Abe insinuates himself past
her, without a word, merely rubbing
the top of his frost-smitten nose byway
of salutation.
In or about this hour, Abe Gilman
generally insinuated himself into the
presence of May, and beguiled his even
ings in tho company of her and her
father. Georgo Sefton had some books
which greatly interested him, especially
when read to him by the owner or his
daughter, and he occasionally borrowed
one, though frequently puzzled by some
of the words; for Abo was not much of
a scholar, but he had a taste for litera
ture, and for May's society, which was
a sort of education in itself.
" You haven't had supper. Abe." said
May, invitingly, to the visitor, with a
peep at him tliat might have upset a
more confident youth.
"I'm just goin' back to it," said Abe,
apologetically. " I only kem for a book
yer father promised to loan me."
" Better stay for supper now, Abe."
said George Sefton, in his quiet but
kindly way.
" I)on't require to be coaxed too much
licforc you consent," said May, with
mock gravity, and a merry twinkle in
her blue eye, that cent Abe into a con
vulsive titter, and brought him to the
table without further parley.
" Who went to Fairbank to-day?" in
quired May, when she had set the meal
in full motion.
" Abe, my d ar; he brought you your
pappr," answered her father. " I was
chopping wood all day; much warmer
wont —eh. Abe?"
"Yes, sir," returned Abe, witli an
emphasis on the second word that'lcft
no mistake as to his thorough agreement
with his friend's opinion. "I never
thought I'd get home. There wasn't a
soul to be seen in the village, 'cept what
was kecpin' the stove warm in the store.
There wns a lady that kem by the cars,
an' she wanted to start straight away
for Mansfield, an' she offered ten dollars
to any one that'd take her, an', by golly,
sir, she couldn't to save her life git one
that'd face it."
"She was a trump," laughed May.
" and she'd face it herself?"
" Yes, by golly, she would that," said
Ale: "hut she had so many shawls,
an' furs, an' wrap* with her, that I
think she could have slcp' in the snow
for a week without being frozen."
" It's a nasty road from hern to Mans
field, such anight", said George Sefton;
" but that was a stiff price."
"She may get some one'tbat'll take
her yet," said May.
" She may, and she mayn't," said Abe,
srinning comfortably at the fire. "If
nek Price was around, I don't think he'd
let so much money go. I think he'd
skin himself an' that horse of his for the
whisky that ten dollars'd buy."
" I fear he'd run the risk of it, A'oe,"
said George, smiling. " Poor Jack is a
rare fellow for his whisky."
" Hush!" cried May, " this is a sleigh,
coming now; I'm sure I heard the bells
Perhaps it's she. Ixok and see, Abe."
"He couldn't see his finger outside,my
dear," said her father, taking down his
pine off the mnntle and filling it. whilst
Abe rose to peep out.
The tinkling sound advanced rapidly,
but it was dark as pitch, and sleet and
snow were traveling furiously with the
wind.
Abe could see nothing from the door
step, so he ran down to the wooden
bridge ttiat spanned the frown stream.
Ho could now discern the dark object
coining furiously toward him, hut lie
noticed, with anxiety, that it was in
clining uangerously near the side of the
roe ' on which was the little ravine.
Onward came the snorting horse at
tne top of his speed. but closer and closer
to the brink of the highway.
Abe raised Ms hands and voice in
alarm to the driver, hut his warning
was not heard, or heard too late, for the
next instant the horse and sleigh had
tumbled into the bed of frozen water.
The hoarse cry of a man in pain and a
stifled moan reached the ears of the
horrified Abe, ns he shouted out,
"George! George!"
But George, who had heard the crash,
was on hand a moment after the acci
dent with a lantern, snd, taking the
situation in at a glance, first released the
furiously struggling horse, and then
lifted up the heavy slHgh that lind com
pletely turned over on the occupant*.
Jack Price—for lie It was—was so full
of whisky I hat, when he regained his
liberty, he scarce felt tho pain of his
broken arm and bruised and bloody
face.
George Sefton had already raised tho
other traveler in bis arms, and a
troubled lork had gathered on his brow.
" Take that droken fellow hack to the
village, Abe,' he said, when Jack Price
and his vehicle were once more In run
ning order; "and make ail the haste
you can back with the doctor. I fear
this is a serious ease."
" Is it the lady, father?" said May,
who had come forward and wo* hold
ing the lantern, as George clambered up
j to the road with the unconscious bun
dle in his arms.
" I suppose so. May," he replied, fol
lowing her into the cottage. "Who
ever it is, is, I dread, badly hurt."
May drew the lounge dose to the fire,
and on it the insensible woman was
laid.
Abe did not exaggerate when be
stated I hat the lady was well protected
from the weather. She wns wrappel
-and uiuflhri up till her face wax no
longer visible, and May's first Hurts
were directed to relieve her from some
of this now unnecessary covering.
Gcorgi Si fton was bending onxiously
over the two women, watching for a
glimote ci the stranger's face.
W to n it was revealed to him, ghastly
white, but still aggressively beautiful,
his breathing for a moment ceased, ana
a scared expression lit up his mild, blue
eyes.
May. too, was startled at the sight of
the death-like face; bat when she
glanced up at her father, and beheld his
ashen conmen-nrc and trembling form,
she was fill* d with terror.
" What la it, faiherf" the exclaimed.
" Do yon think, 'hen, slit's dead?"
His dazed look wandered from the
prostrate figure on the iounge, and
rested on the innocent being kneeling at
her side.
"No, I don't think she is," he replied,
at length, in a voice scarcely above a
whisper.
The scared expression in liis face hnd
stolen into his voice, and it was hushed
and frightened.
Tears welled up into May's eye*, and
dropned on the cold hands she was
chafing.
The lady, after a while, showed symp
toms of returning consciousness. He
yond her pallor and insensibility, she
presented no outward sign of injury.
" I don't think she s much hurt,
lather," said Muy, leaning tenderly over
her patient, the tears still glistening Ilk'
pearls on her eyelashes; hut noting,
with hope and pleasure, the increaaing
evidences of animation.
He made no response to May's re
mark, but continued to stare straight
down at the pallid, beautiful face of the
lady.
Suddenly a pair of eyes, larger and
more liquid than May's, hut of the same
azure hue, are opened out upon him,
and the conscious woman is scrutiniz
ing his weird, haggard countenance.
For a brief moment a crimson flush
banishes the pallor, and the iiands that
May holds are clutched convulsively.
Then the red blood deserts the face
again, and it becomes ten times more
livid. The beautiful, liquid eyes droop
abashed before the man's gnze, nnd trav
erse Bearchingly the room, till they rest
on May kneeling by her.
"I'm not deeeived, then," she feebly
mutters. Is this—"
Her voice broke the spell, or stupor
that had seized George Sefton at the
first glimpse of her, and, in a low and
decisive tone, he said :
"You mustn't speak just now,
madam, till the doctor arrives, and we
know what's the trouble. Prepare your
bed for this lady. May," he added, mo
tioning the young girl to her room,
gravely.
May had scarcely disappeared, when
he was at the woman's sine, whisper
ing excitedly in her ear:
"You mustn't let her known nothing.
It's better for her —it's better for you.
I don't want to reproach you now. I
don't know what strange fatality
i)iought you to my cabin to-night; but
whatever it was leave us —leave her in
the peace and innocence that you have
found her. Since the hour that you de
serted her I've led her to believe you
dead. I've striven to hide you and
your sin from your child with the
charitable mantle of the grave, and for
that sole purpose I've since hidden my
self here. Don't seek to undeceive
her. I**t her still think of you witli re
gret. I-ct her memory of you continue
to be a fragrant one."
The erring woman listened witn
closed eye# and blanched ciieeks to the
man's passionate words.
"May I kiss her?" she faltered.
" Yes. if-"
May entered, and Geonje Sefton moved
away, and dung bimselt into a chair in
a far corner ot the room.
May resumed her watch by the lady's
side, taking the cold, slender hands once
more in hers. She noticed that the
lovely eyes, which were turned with in
finite tenderness on her, were dimmed
with tears, and that the bands she
clasped pressed hers caressingly.
The monotonous tick. tick, of the old
clock was all t! at broke the silence ol
the room.
The lady closed her eyes, and May
was beginning to think that she was go
ing to sleep, when a sweet voice whis
pered in her car:
"Kiss me, darling."
The young girl crept closer, and wind
ing her arm* round the woman's neck,
wrapped the poor soul in her chaste em
brace.
Was it the instinct of love or pity?
When George Sefton awoke fiom his
painlul reverie an hour later to admit
Ahe Oilman and the doctor, he found
tho two women asleep, the elder resting
on the bosom of tne younger The
girl was easily aroused, but the other
awoke no more.
Tho friends who came for the dead
woman knew not the tmhappy husband
under hUnasumcd name and altered ap
pearancc.and May never learned that her
mother bad passed out of the sphere of
sin and shame in hernrms.
Her lather lived long enough to see
her the happy wife of Abe Oilman, and
then passed away, carrying his secret
with him.
Heath and the Kbna parte*.
Speaking of the ex-Empress K.igonio's
journey to the scene ol her son's death
at the hands of the Zulus In South
Africa, the Chicago Time* says: When
last she went forth from the sheltering
wing of Knglnnd, whose queen has lieen
more than formal in the expression of
her sympathy and good-will, it was to
attend the death-bed of her sole remain
ing relative, the Countess Montijo, her
mother. To do Ibis she was roused
from watching and weeping at the tomb
of her only son, and, the end task at end,
she returned to the island which had
given refuge to her nnd a resting-place
for her dead. She goes out now on a
wholly sentimental mission. It is her
desire to spend the anniversary of her
boy's death on the spot where lie fell
pierced by tbe weapons of savages.
The whole trip takes on a somber sug
gestion. which is not without its pass
ing significance, for. upon her return
from South Africa, she will stop it St.
Helena, the lone island where the giant
heart of the first, really the last, of the
Ronapartes ceased to beat. In half n
century the suddenly-created dynasty
is gone, root and branch, and while ft
has left its impress—chiefly in scars—
upon the history of France and Europe,
yet little more of its personality is left
than this broken and prematurely-aged
widow, who was not kin to Bona
parte, but having been of the family,
journeys in her woe to those place*
where death has triumphed over the
Ronapartes. Was it that half a century
might show such a picture th at the sun
of Austeriitx rose?
A certain painter was bragging of his
wonderful command of color to a friend
one day. Ills friend did not seem to
take it quite r.liin. " Why," exclaimed
the painter, "do you know that there
are hut three painters in the world, sir
who understand color?" " And who
beyr At last asked the friend.
Why, sir, 1 am one, and—and—and
aad 1 forget the name of tie other two I'
" Two sisters of Glasgow got mad at
a plumber and thrsw him out of the
filth story window." But ho got even
with the sisters. He charged them
doable time from the minute he left the
window until he struck the sidewalk.—
HorriMtown Ikraid.
I'KINCE DFXIHOFF.
The HonimiMr Hiiulan Kolilenwii Wlio
llau Fancies Worthy of IVoro— lIU
Wonderful Art I nMiim Hold at Auc
tion II latory of tho Fortune of tho
llrmldoffa,
Prince Paul l>cmidoff is now a nmn
of thirty-nine years of age. He came to
Paris in 1858. He had not yet came
into possession of his immense fortune;
iiis uncle was still living, and Ids in
come was modest. He was a handsome
man in the full force of the term—tall,
slender, elegant; pale complexion,
somewhat bronzed; brown hair and
mustache: open and high forehead
and palc-nllie Slav eves. soft, languid
and veiled by long latin*. Under a
skin of satin he had muscles of steel;
he was built to resist, life and triumph
over life. He always used to dress in a
short coat, a round hat, rather short
trousers and shoes. He never wore a
waistcoat and never suffered from cold.
He took Up ills quarters in a furnished
lodging at 25 Faubourg St. Honore, and
It w:is there that began his famous
series of men's soirees and suppers.
Soon afterward Paul Ihpiidoff became
a member of the Circle de liKueHoyole.
Paul Demi doff, however, w.-is not a
regular gambler; he played only by fits
and starts. When he did play he played
boldly, for he was of the race of grand
viveurs. From the Faubourg St.
Honore he migrated to the Hue du
Marche-d'Ageusseau, taking with him
; the same joyous band of friends, at Un
bend of whom were Gramuiont-Cade
rousse, de Juignc and Gaston de Saint-
Maurice. For a moment he had a pas
sion for hunting, and rented some game
preserves near Hambouiliet. Paul Dent
idoff had all the instincts of the Slav
nature. He was eccentric, sometimes
excessively so. He would call up his
servants, open all the windows, and
take a cold bath. He had constantly
at his bedside a decanter of iced
champagne, of which fie drank all
night. Nobody, however, ever heard
of Paul DemidofT being drunk. In the
morning he sometimes hod fancies
worthy of Nero. He would send for
four or five servants, and make them
fight together until they had eliminated
the victor, who received a handsome
gratification.
In 1867 Paul IV-inidoff married the
Princes* Mctchierski. and went to live
in the Hue Jean-Goujon, in a fine hotel,
which soon became a veritable museum.
When lie married he took his past life
like a stick, broke it in two and threw
away the piece*. It was all over. His
wife i>ecamo everything to him. The
lady, unfortunately, died in childbed,
and Prince DemidofT died to the world.
Rut enthusiasm like his could not he
extinguished. He threw himself with
ardor Into religion; the hero of the
•' fast" life of Paris became the hero of
the cloister. He shut himself up with
his grief, and his charity became now
as open-banded a* his extravagance
hod been. He was mean toward him
self, prodigal toward the. poor. He
dressed like a Quaker, and had long in
terview* with Pere Hyai inUie. He had
abandoned bis hotel in the Kuejenn-
Goujon, and lived alone in a small apart
ment in the Hue de Milan, we believe,
where lie treasured up all the relics and
souvenirs of tii* married life. His bed
room was a reliquary of his past happy
days.
One fine day he left Paris and went to
Hussitt. He had grown weary of soli
tude and t<*ars. He had been touched
by nypur of ambition. He dreamed of
playing a role in politic*, and began by
trecoming governor of Kieff, a po-a
which he held for five year*. Hut the
post wns too unimportant for his vault
ing ambition. Perhaps be thought of
ttie embassy at Paris, or perhaps of
some other equally lofty position of the
same kind. At any rale he grew tired
of being mayor of Kieff; he sent in bis
resignation and settled at the palace of
San Ifonato, near Florenec. where be
brought hi* sei-ond wife, the' Princess
Troiibetskoi, daughter cf the celebrated
Princess Use Trouhctskni, who ha* so
often occupied the attention of the Par-
Won.*. Since then lie lias never left San
Donato. where he has accumulated that
marvelous collection of art treasures
which has been y!d at auction.
What was the reason ot this sale ?
1/vssitude and ennui. His last passion
had burnt out. He wanted to rid iiis
sight of all vestige of it. He was in a
hurry to satisfy a new passion. "Hie
palace of Ran Donato ha* Iwcn aban
doned for the Villa de I'ratollno, near
Fiesolc, where nothing remains but the
ruins of the splendid chateau which
fo-mcriy sheltered the romantic loves
of the Duke Franci* and the fair Vene
tian lady. Rianca Capello. Among the
ruins is the colossal statue of the Ap
penines, which was sculptured under
the direction of Jean de Bologna, one
of the finest monument* of an immortal
epoch. The restoration of tiiis chateau
will give Prince DemidofT an oppor
tunity of becoming a Maecenas in a
more netivc and extensive manner.
Prince DemidofT will be a patron of
art on a scale which has Ween almost
unknown during the Inst two centuries.
The origin of the fortune of the Demi
doffs is curious. One day Peter the
Grcnt was passing through Ural. When
lie reached N'tjni-Tagilsk. one of his,
pistols broke. The er.ar asked the gov
ernor to send him a workman to mend
it, hut in that obscure and distant vil
lage there w no one to whom the gov
ernor dareri to entrust the imperial arm.
There was no gunsmith. At last they
brought to the esar a modest workman,
whose trade waa not that of a gunsmith,
but whose skill was highly spoken of in
the village. He took the pistol, and
hall an hoar afterward lie brought it
hack as good as new. His name was
DemidofT "I will remember you!" said
Peter the Great as he rode awav.
Months passed away. DemidofT had
forgotten the - star's promise when n
letter with the imperial seal was handed
to him. It was the grant of the free
hold of a vast tract of land. Demidofl
set to work. He discovered mines of
iron, of brnas, of malachite— a fortune,
in short, which it would take centuries
to exhaust- Such is the history of the
fortune of the DemidofT*.— Parwuin.
Tin re is a shepherd's fold in the Eng
lish town ol Hastings. It is declared
that the local health officer, iiaving
heard certain complaints, went to the
school in question, and found there two
children apparently suffering from star
vation. One, a girl of fourteen, was
found upon removal to the workhouse,to
weigh only thirty-five pounds, and her
toes are said to have been in such • rot
ten state that it was necessary so remove
them all. There were eight boarders in
the establishment.
Everything In nature Indulges in
amusem-'nt. The lightning plays, the
wind whistles, the thunder rolls, the
■now flies, the waves leap and the fields
*nnle. Even the buds shoot and the
A SOUTHERN I'ATRIAKC'H.
A Man will. Plv HundraA anil Hrvruty-
Klve Urlng Uaacandauta.
A letter to the Charleston (8. C.)
Nrwn nay*: In ttie course of thr&Kore
ytars ami ten. I have many timed read
of families remarkable lor size, weight,
number, etc., and have as often thouicht
if honor attached to a locality produc
ing a large family, Orangeburg county,
8. C., would wear the laurels. Old Mr.
I William Hiuoak, the patriarch of the
| family of that name, is a native, of Ger-
I man extraction, iiorn early in February,
1784, consequently has just entered li in
| ninety-seventh year, and, since 1811,
has been o resident of that *wtl<n of tie
county between the North and South
Kdisto rivers familiarly known uf the
Fork. The old man and his wife, who
died a few years ago, raised thirteen
children, ten now living. They had
first six sons, then two daughters, then
three sons, and the last two daughters.
The eldest is seventy-five years of age,
j the youngest fifty.
i The old niHn has ten living children,
l 104 grandchildren, 391 great-grandchll
! dren, and 70 gr<*augreat-grandchildren,
making in all 575 living descend
ants, and 116 dead. The most remarka
j hie feature of this family (one which I
think would require a search of both
I hemispheres to find a parallel) is the
j fait that both the old people lived to see
; their youngest and thirteenth child a
i grandmother. Who can beat that?
Notwithstanding the old man's sight
and hearing are much impaired, his
general health is good, and he would be
quite smart for one of bis age had it
not been for a fall be got some vcars
ago, which injured one and hip,
from which lie has never entirely re
covered. He is a great talker, and has
a most vivid recollection of events
which transpired in his boyhood and
early manhood. He was much of a
Nimrod in his time, and relates with
the gr< atcst minuteness incidents of his
dis rand wolf hunts Many a stately buek
and ravenous wolf sueeunilsd to his
deadly aim with that old flint and stce]
musket that he would not lay down in
exchange for an amateur sportsman's
hundred dollar double-barrel. The per
cussion principle was at that time latent
in the brain of the inventor, but the old
nmn did not feel the need of improved
firearms, for when be drew the trigger
of that old musket on game there was
sure to be " meat in the pot." He killed
the last wolves that were known U> be
in this part of the country. We enter
tain n fervent hope that the old man
may live to be a centenarian, when (if
the writer is alive) there will be a
proposition for a grand picnic and re
union. A circle with a diameter of fif
teen mili-s would inclose four-fifihs of
the family. The writer has known this
family sixty years as a hard-working,
industrious people, and not a drunkard
among them. Who can beat that'
The Chinese Theater.
In the north of China every town and
every large village boasts of its perma
nent theater, while the inhabitants of
other villages, too small to be so fortu
nate. rind little difficulty in extemporis
ing theaters of mat and bamboo on any
chance arrival of an itinerant troop of
actors. As long as the visit of these
wandering players last, the people of
the district give themselves up to tlie en
joyment of the holiday. Karly each
morning the roads from "all the country
round may be seen crowded with peo
ple, the poorer ones on loot. and. if in
the north of China, the wealthier classes
on mules or in carts, all tending to the
one pointed attraction; the women gay
in blue ml or green silks, and tho men
in their be st and brightest attire. If we
follow this p>ssurc-sccking crowd, we
enters theater built in the form of a
parallelogram, at one end of which is a
platform, generally, though not always,
!as wide as the building. The platform
. is divided breadthwise by a wooden pur
i tition witli two entrances, the front part
i forming the stage, and the rear portion
serving the purposes of green room,
property room and abode rtf the troupe.
The body of the theater, answering to
! our pit and stalls, is without seats or
' partitions; while above ann encircling
j the wliole are the boxes in which the
! women and principal subscribers have
their place*. If the district should be
a very poor one the probability is that
; we find ourselves opposite a covered
: stage or an open niece of ground, in
i front of which the carts of tire visitors
| full of their occupants, are arranged in
a semi-circle, thus forming the walls of
I a truly Thespian theater. Within this
| enclosure stands a densely packed, good
natured, eager crowd ; whose power of
I standing is only equaled by their power
iof unflagging enjoyment. No money is
taken at the doors. The troupe is gen
erally hired eitbirby a private indi
vidual or by a public subscription for a
certain number of days, and free admis
sion is granted to every one. The per
formances last from the early morning
until late in the evening, with short in
tervals between each four or five pieces.
The acting, generally speaking, is good,
for tho Chinese are naturally quick of
observation, and are thus able. In every
day life, to catch easily t lie tone of those
with whom they associate, and on the
stage to assume the characters they wish
to represent. The possession of these
faculties is the more important, as tho
actors get very little guidance from the
play book, which almost entirely oon
ndo their directions to " enter," " exit "
and 'wimide," or as the Chinese literally
translated mentis, •• aaoen V "descend/'
and "turn the back and Contem
porary Review.
An Astonished Chinaman.
In some parts of Queensland wild pigs
are very numerous. I have never heard
of them being ridden down and speared
as in India, writes a traveler, but I am
certain that very good sport might be
obtained. I heard Mm other day a *bry
of a man on Urn Warrega river muster
ing about two hundred wild grunters
into a slake sheepyard, and selling them
to a Chinese storekeeper for cash down
The price asked was a low one. and
"Johnny " was so de.ighted with his
imaginary liargain thai he did not ask
many questions; and, of course, the
vender omitted to mention that the pig*
were wild. On the day appointed for
delivery, "Johnny" came, accompanied
by two of hit countrymen, to fetch
them, pain down his money, and opened
the yard, when to his horror, Away the
pigs rushed to tho scrub, and "Johnny"
saw them no more.
asked if hs took a newspaper, he rap lied
that "sines our msmbelrof Coner,*Th2
fiTTCStf
kin gat along without it. It naver
SSLS M, * bow ~ a -
| KELHHOUM XEWM IVB fOTEM.
Forty-five years ago a French J'roU*-
, tant was very rarely seen in Canada,
but the number ia now aaid to be thoe
sands.
Lfmt year twelve person* in the United
State* qiid Europe nave an aggregate
of $3,000,00 1 to the cause of foreign
' missions.
There are now ninety-one Reformed
Episcopal ministers, eight of whom are
bishops. Slaty-four of these are in this
country, thirteen in Canada, and four*
; teen in England.
I The Methodlat I'roU-atant church ha*
commissioned its firt foreign nii-h t
! my. Si in i>. M. Guthrie, wtio goes u,
Japan. A women's society in Pitt*,
nurjjr, Pa., pay* her salary.
A Chicago clergyman has been
, preaching upon lite wickedness 0 f ~r i
tering the church late disturbing and
I the congregation, and IJIM wrmon l.n*
had the effect of decreasing the nutnUr
| of tardy worshipers in his church.
According to a correspondent of the
IKenminer and Chronicle, in St. liouit.
Mo., with n population of nearly half a
million, the entire membership of the
, Protestant churches is said to be ; ( - M
! than 20,000, or about one in twenty.
! five.
The Key. Nathan Sites, an American
Methodist missionary in China, was re
cently base iby a mob at Yenping-100,
and serine ly injured with clubs and
; atones. II a magistrate hud not inter-
I fered he woi It have been drowned hy
■ the infuriate populace.
The Baltimore Methodist conference,
One of the oldest Methodist conferences
in the country, recently concluded iu
' annua) session, rej rn 33 .784 mem
bers and 4,968 probationers. 17'J . .
preachers, and 35* churclM-s, valued at
$2,472,060. on which there i* an ind-to
ed ness of 9330,000.
Edward Kimball, the church debt ex
tinguisher, says: "The throe great
j financial calamities of a church are: i
A fund lor the support of preaching, **
that the people need not pay. V. One or
l two rich men, on whom everybody
leans, and whose property the church
feels at liberty to appropriate. 3. A
debt."
The Atlanta ((la.) Baptist M-minnr*
lots ninety students. Most of the freed
, | men under its ciutrge are studying tor
lite ministry, and some of these are
, making heroic efforts to obtain an edu
cation. One of them bad to se 1 Ids
overcoat. Another tried living on one
■ | meal a day. The wife of anatber takes
in washing to support him. Another
worked for some months as a cook.
The re*ipts of the American board
1 j lor January amounted to 961,160. For
i i the first five months of the financial
year the donations aggregated 913!,-
1 569 26. the legacies 935.Wi0.H7. a total of
I §167,430.13. This Ism advance b
(the average for the corresponding
; months during the pr<veding three
years of about twenty per cent.
The following are reported to be some
1 of the changes made in the revised ver
sion of the English Bible to be issued
this year: " Damned "isto be changed
| invariably to "condemned." For
" hell," tlie original words Gehenna and
llades are to be substituted. " Pre
, vent" is to be turned into " go before."
; " Religion " is to be changed into " wor
ship."
The Methodist Episcopal chun-h had
i at the close of the year 1879, 1,584.006
members and 176,296 probationers. The
( gain in members for tlie year was
, 21,008, and the loss in probationers 15,-
467; so that, taking the total of mem
bers and probationers 1,700,302 the
, net gain for the year was only 6.146
, The cumber of churches was 16.955.
which sliows an increase of 395 The
value of the church** is estimated at
902,520,417, being a decrease of 96,92*,-
741 from the previous year.
A Martial Ornament.
Hungarians are celebrated for their
remarkably fine mustaches, and arc in
• , the habit of devoting much care to the
cultivation of this martial ornament.
: The national custom originatid with
i a number of cavalry regiments who dis
tinguished themselves in the wars
i; against tlie Turks, and whose colonels,
finding that tlie fashion servd to in
spire the troopers with manly pride and
| dashing gallantry, made tlie training
| and cultivating of their mustaches s
regulation affair. A beardless youth
was excluded from cavalry service.
1 Here is the method employed, and which
is in daily use throughout the land
among men who act their pride upon the
! display of a fine curly and provokingiy
j sticking out mustache. After the
[ morning ablution, and while the beard
is still wot, a piece of airing ia dm wn
across tlie face, under the nose, and
fastened over both cars Both hands
llun twist the hair around the string,
to which an extra pull is given with s
I final fastening behind the ears. In this
ingenious condition of early toilet, one
may comfortably get through breakfast
. and a lot of early work indoor*, and
emerge at noon with a more or less
fierce and martial countenance, the
pride of the giria and the object of envi
, ous swells ignorant of the plan. During
I the French wars toward the end cl the
! iat and the beginning of this century,
there was one Hungarian hussar regi
; racnt "pecially distinguished for tlie
I magnificence and fierceness of its mus
taches. The trgnlation exacted s dis
play of five inches of hair, in corkscrew
form and shape, on each side of the
upper lip, and, when nature's supply
proved insufficient, the rcgo atioo
I length had to be made of nits of liorse
| tail worked into pricking points at eacL
end by means of a sticky mass of grease
and wax. which became known in Pari*
during tlie n stornlion under the elegant
] name of " Poramade Hongreiee."
The Ureal Lakes.
Tlie last measurements of American
i fresh water seat are time given: The
i jrcntost length of Lake Superior is 335
miles; its greatest breadth, 160 miles;
hiean depth. 688 feet; elevation, 6*7
feet; area, 82,000 square miles. The
greatest length of lake Michigan is 300
miles; its greatest breadth, 108 miles;
mean depth. 690 fret; elevation. 306 feet;
area. 20.000 tqaars miles. The greatest
length of lake Huron is 900 miles; it*
greatest breadth, 160 miles; mean depth,
600 feet; elevation. 274 fret; arra,
90,000 square miles. Ttie greatest length
of Lake Erie is 960 miles; iu greatest
breadth is 80 miles: its mean depth is
i 84 feet; elevation. 666 fret; area. 6,000
I square miles. The greatest length of
Lake Ontario is 180 miles; IU greatest
i breadth, 65 miles; its mean depth is 5W
1 *t; elevation. 261 fret; ares. O.tOO
r square miles. The length of ail
1 1.986 miles, covering an area upward of
136,000 square miles.