Through Life. Entering lite, we come leartully Into the new and unknown, Trembling and terrified, tearfully luffing tile's burden alone; llraving its dangers more cheerfully When we the stronger have grown. B till, like old earth so roceivingly Taking the bad and the good- Taking, nor choosing, bulievingly Ever the best us we could; Sadly repenting, then grievingly Striving to do as wc should. Long may we wonder suspeotingly, Ingrates whom passions enslave, Scornlu'ly, proudly, rojectingly Serving the mercy God gave; Nor look to Him who protectingly His arm forth stretches to save. Thoughtlessly, carelessly, musingly, Playing at file's checkered game; Ever the tally-sheet losingly Scoreth a list to our name; Bravely our conscience accusingly Stirrcth our senses wilh shame. I/Hiking to conscience inquiringly, Thoughtlessness sccmeth u siu; Working and striving untiringly, So must the battle begin; Faith, hope and love will iuspiringly Teach us how life we may win. May we our duty do daretully, Strengthening, careworn, oppressed; Treading our way over carefully Through snares to homo ol the blest; Hopefully, cheerfully, prayerfully, Finding in heaven a rest' Striving with sin, sin enslavingly Holding us ever so last; Looking lor mercy most cravingly Through the dark clouds sweeping past; Tenderly, lovingly, savingly, Jesus redeemeth, at last. fiction Trnntcri}/!. ' 4 WATCH THE E0X!" The 6 :20 evening express. No. 39. was river an hour late that night. Cause enough, heaven knows. For twelve hours the storm had raged, and now in stead of showing any signs of breaking, the rain came down in torrents from the inky sky, and the thunder rolled ominously overhead. A bad storm to drive an engine through, as anybody would have known, and tbe wonder is that No. 29 was not three hours late in stead of one. Luke Granger, the trus tiest, nerviest engineer on the road, rounded the curve just below Red Ravine station at twenty-six minutes past seven. I breathed a sigh of relief when I taw the headlight cut a hole in the darkners. The station bridge might have given away in a storm like that, and I was beginning to get nervous over this thought. Somehow everything made me nerv ous that night. It was just the kind of weather when tilings look all out ol gear, anyway. Then, I suppose, the knowledge of that money package being due and fail ing to come on the 11:30. as it should have done, had its effect on me. I didn't relish the idea of keeping 813,000 in cash until the next day. Eldridge & Ricketson had been down themselves to meet the morning train, and If the package had come I could have turned it over to them at onct, and that would have been the end of the matter. But it didn't come. That's a way things have in this world, when you most want 'em. There wasn't a soul at the station that night except myself, and there were only two passengers who got off the train. I speak of 'em that way not meaning to he disrespectful, or make light of solemn things; only it's habit, I suppose; lor most people would say there was only one passenger that got off at Red Ravine, seeing that the second of 'em was carried out of the ex nrcss car in a wooden box. Usually when n body was coming on I got word beforehand, but this one took me quite by surprise, and added not a little to the nervousness already felt. "Who is it?" ' asked, as the box was carried into the station. The passenger who had got off the train, and who was a stranger to me, r answered mv inquiry. "The body is that of my sister-in law." said he. "She was the niece of Thomas Eldridge—doubtless you know him. Her death was very sudden. She is to be buried in Mr. Eidrigde'a lot here." "Then I suppose tho body is to be left in my charge until to-morrow?" said 1. " Yes," answered the stranger. "Do you suppose thai I can get to Mr El dridge'* myself to-night?' "Well, 1 replied, "It's a good four miles, and in such a storm as this—" " I'll wait until to-morrow," inter rupted tbe stranger. "There is some sort of a hotel here, isn't there?" "Yes, a good one. You'll have to fjot It, though; but it's only a matter ot quarter of a mile, and you can't miss your way, fpr the rood up the hill lends to the bouse." Here I made mv way out to the plat form again and made my way on the express car where the money package, which all along I hnd secrecy hoped wouldn't come, was delivered to me by the messenger. As he gave it to me he siid: " You'll want to keep a sharp eye on that, Billy. There's enough in it to make oneot your Red Ravtners put a bullet tlimigti your bead, and never give you the chance to object." "IV lookout for the Red Ravi nets, and the package too," said I, oonfi dently enough. But if the truth had been told, I didn't tike the suggestion which the messenger had made. The train moved off quickly, and I swung mv lantern, as was my habit, by way of bidding good-nigbt to Luke granger. Then I went into the station house with the little pnekage clutched tightly under my rubber coat, expecting to find the mnn there who had come on with tho body. But he had gone, being anxious, no doubt, to get to the hotel as quickly as possible. No 39 was the lvst train which stopped at Red Ravine until ten minutes past six the next morning. So my work for the night whs done, and I led only to lock up the doors, see that tilings were nil right about the plaoe. and sit down to my newspaper in the little room which served as my sleeping quarters. Twenty years had passed since I first found myself installed at Red Ravine a telegrnph operator in the mil way sta lion, llcing content with the humdrum sort of life, and faithful to my duties, ! 'iad come by degrees to attend to all the work which the place required. That ib, I was ticket agent, baggage-master ind keeper of the station, besides acting '.or the express company and continuing my charge of the telegraph kev. These uoinbincd labors made it pretty close work for nie, but they all yielded a very cHn for table income j and a# I was t *ouhled witli no unsatisfied ambitions, I counted myself well fixed. As I have intimated, I slept in the station, partly to keep guard on the company's property and partly from choice; being a bach elor and without kin, ! bad nothing to attract me elsewhere. My duties had grown a part of second nature, and I had lived in the little town so long that the younger generation had come to speak of me as " Old Billy." That was, I suppose, because my hair was get'ing gray joints a little stiff. The Red Revine station was a wooden buildirg, about forty feet long and twenty wide. It was divided into two compartments, the larger one being for freight and baggage, and the smaller one for passengers. My own little room was only a piece partitioned off from the freight quarter, and ten feet square, and connected by a door with a box of nn office in the passenger's room, which served both for selling tickets and holding the telegraph key. In this latter apartment, also, was placed the old-fashioned iron eafe, in wl ieh I locked up my valuable ex pres packages when any happened to come to Red Ravine. The village, 1 ougfft to ex plain, had grown up entirely through the influence of the great iron works of Eldridge & Ricketaon. There were rich beds of ore a few miles to the north, and these, bs well as the foundry, which employed 400 or 500 hands, were con trolled by the firm I have mentioned. There had been some trouble at tbe works recently—a strike or something growing out o! delay in paying the men their wages. This is how it happened that the 813,000 'money package came into my keeping for a niglit. Well, when I had made all snug about the station, and got off my wet clothing, I sat down comfortably with pipe and newspaper to enjoy my cus tomary reading. The storm outside continued to rage more and more fierce ly, but within, things were cosv as could be. But that night, things seemed all out of gear, as I have said. My pipe didn't soothe me as was its wont; try as I might, I couldn't get in terested in the newspaper; an uncom fortable feeling of dread—a feeling that some shadowy but horrible thing wot about to happen—possessed my mind " It all comes from that pesky money package," I muttered to mjself. "Wby couldn't it have got here on the 11:30 and saved mo the job of keeping it here over night!" .lustatthis momit came a terrific clap of thunder and a flash of lightning vivid enough to make the lamp dim. I had locked up the package in the sale and put the key—there was no combina tion lock—in my pocket. But I had not the largest faith in the security of the old safe. It had occurred to me often that a person could open it, even if he i wasn't a skillful cracksman. It was mv custom to leave my door open between my littlp room and the ticket office, so that if Red Ravine was called on the telegraph key I could hear it. The in strument had been clicking nway at a great rate for the past hour; but ns it was none of my business I had paid no attention to what was going over the wires I judged now from tlip ntarr.iss of tbe lightning and the jerking sounds of the instrument that the storm was playing the mischief with the messages. I passed into the ticket office where a light wns left burning, and stooq for sometime thinking whether the money package would be less exposed in ibe safe than it would be under the mat tn-ss of my tied, and I finally concluded that the latter would be the hardest for any possible thief to reach. So I took out the heavy brown envelope and stowed it awav under the mattress. Once more I sat down to my newpnper and pipe, but with no better success than before. The storm seemed now to have centered right over the little sta tion. I'eal after peal of thunder rent the air. and the lightning played about the sky like phosphorus on an inky back ground. If you have ever chanced to be in a telegraph office during a thunder storm, you may have seen the electric ity dash down the wires in away to make timid people nervous. Even veteran operators, like myself, wouldn't want to undertake to receive that* >rt of message. I was tempted to close the key, but the meaningless ticking rind a sort of fascination for me in the mood I then was. To occupy myself about something I relighted my lantern, went into the freight room, examined again the holts of the doors and the fastenings of t.ho windows, and returned to the room more worried and upset than evei. Juntas I was entering my own nest, the light of the lantern fell squarely on the wooden box. Oddly enough, until that moment I had forgotten all aboutthe dead young woman. Thinking so steadily of the 113,000 had, I suppose, driven the box out of my mind. But I can't say it was any comfort to have it brought back now; for a corpse is never the most cheerful of company, and, feeling ns I did then. I would a great deal rather have had no company at all. It must have been tbe imp of the per verse. 1 suppose, that impelled me, after the box had been brought back to my mind, to leave the door open so that 1 could sit and stare at it with morbid curiosity. As 1 have already said, my sleeping-npnriment was partitioned off from tbe freight room, and was con nected with the latter by a door. The body hnd been placed in such a position that when this door was open the head of the box was in sight. Two or three times I got up to shut the door, but some strange fatality drove me hack to my chair, and caused me to keep in view the box with its sad freight. All this time the storm raged, the thunder dis charged it' mighty batteries, the light ning flashed, and the mad ravings of the t< iegrmph continued. I cnuffl.t my hand trembling as I tried to refill my pipe. Nervousness, no doubt; but possibly an observer might have thought old Billy was frightened. I had just risen to wind the little clck on the shelf, when suddenly out of the hitherto meaningless ticking of the in strument sharply and distinctly came to my Qars these sounds: which in spoken words meant, " Watch the box." I stnrted as it a charge of electricity had shot through my frame. I could fairly feel my face grow white. I stood motionless, clutching tho back of my chair, and with my eyes riveted in a vacant stare at the table in thetclegraph office. I knew this was no work of an excited imagination. The words, tomy practical ear, were as plain ns if shouted in clarion tones. There had come no call for Red Ravine, and the message ended without signature or mark, but abruptly, as it had begun. More than that, it was not the writing of an opera tor on any section of the line. T would have sworu to that with as much posi tiveness as you would to the tones of a voice with which you are familiar. In the dot and dash alphabet we learn to distinguish who is handling the keys almost with as much accuracy as others distinguish handwriting. And in all my experience 1 had never heard the sounder click off a message like tl at. While I stood dazed and almost par alyzed (for you must remember tliatold Billy's nerves were strung to a terrible pitch that night) the rapid and unintel ligible click-click was resumed as if a demon had again got hold of the key. It was ully five minutes before I mustered courage enough to pass into the ticket office and sit down by the table myself. Not once hud I turned back to look at the box. Almost at the instant of my sitting down at the table the clicking stopped short, as it had done before, anil then these words were repeated: "Watch the box." 1 sprang up from the table, and, with the now strengthened conviction that it was no delusion, no fancy, but that the sound had come plainly over the wires, I felt my courage ictuming, and re solved to heed the mysterious warning. Tlic rolling of the thunder and the mad roar of the storm no longer depressed me. I stepped boldly back into my own room, and rested my eyes unflinch ingly on the mysterious "box. What was the mysterious freight? Why had the phantom of the storm sent those startling words over the wires? What unknown hand had reached out from the very lightning itself to warn me of some impending danger? These ques tions rushed through my mind as f felt the dread fear disappearing and found myself of a sudden growing strangely calm. Tho clock struck ten. I turned to the shelf, and with a hand that no longer trembled inserted the key, and wound it composedly. Would it be the last time that I should perform that simple task? No matter. Happier than mcst men, because content with my humble lot, it should never he said that old Billy flinched in the face of duty. For that night it was my duty—my one sacred, all-important duty—*o guard the treasure left to my keeping. And , guard it I would while life remained. W hrn I had finished winding the clock. I took down from the shelf an old rusty pistol which had lain for years undisturbed. It was not loaded, nor had I either powder or bullet anywhere in the station. But the weapon was an ugly looking one, and carried n sort of siicnt force in case of too aggressive argument. After examining the rusty lock.; I put the pistol on the table, lighted my pipe, and—closed the door that opened into tho freight-room. Now that 1 v.aa thoroughly myself again. I found it easy enough to shut out the sight of that ominous oblong box. It was not until the clock struck again —that is eleven—that I made up my mind to go to bed. All the time the storm held on, although the thunder hnd begun to rumble more distantly. I threw off my coat and slippers, put out the light in the ticket office, and turned that in my sleeping-room down to a low flame. Then I drew the money pack age from under the mattress and pinned it securely to my woolen shirt under my vest. This done, and the table so placed that I could reach both the lamp and the pistol, I opened the door into the freight room some three or lour inches and then threw myself upon the bed. Just as my bead touched the pillow the in strument, which had grown quiet now clicked off for the third time, loudly, distinctly, slowly, its words of warning: " Watch the box!" This time the warning wa not heeded. I had not gone to bed to sleep, but for the very purpose of watching the box. Standing as it did. with the head close to the door, and therefore close to the box itself, the bed afforded the vervbest point from which to keep an eye on tho suspicious freight. Had my faith in the telegraphic clicking been less, or had my own sense of great re sponsibility di - sorted me for a single moment, I should certain iy given up the job of watching as foolish, and in that case it is not likely that this narrative would ever have been written. But I believed in the thrice-repeated message, and did not let drowsiness overcome patience. Twelve, one,,two—how very slowly the hours se< med to drng themselves. The low flame of the lamp went out, as the oil went dry. What a relief It was to hear the clock strike! At last. somewhere about midnight, the storm had broken. I could seethe stars ns they came out, through the window in the freight room, which was on a line of vision with the box. How strangely still it seemed after the mighty mar of the storm and the sharp cinp of thunderl Not a clink from the instrument now. Not a sound save the sturdy ticking of the clock. Still I lay listening, watch ing, with faculties all alert and my eyes nlways on the oblong box. A little past two—perhaps ten minutes. The silence almost painful in its profoundness. Nothing but the tick tick of the clock, which, to my eager ear. had taken on this sound, which it kept repeating over and over. "W a tch the—box f Watch—the— box!" What was that? Not the clock, not the telegraphio In strument. No, it was tLe sound as of the grating of iron. Faint, very faint, yet still audible to my earl Breathing regular.* and deeply, aa one breathes in icep, I lay and listened. Another in terval of lilenc*, and tneti uie grating sound came again, this time a trifle louder than before. The light of the stars shining through the window made the objects in the freight-room just visi ble. Almost simultaneously with the second grating noise I saw the cover oi the wooden box rising slowly from the end furthest removed from the bed. I could feel my heart thumping away like a sledge hammer, but I continued to breathe heavily and to watch keenly. Gently and noiselessly the cover was pressed upward until it reached an angle which completely shut out from my view t'ae window beyond. A moment later the figure of a man enme out of t lie shadows, while the box cover >va• ,et down as noiselessly as it had betu raised. This then was the burden oi the box. This wns the meaning of the mys terious warning which the sounder bad spoken. With cat-like tread the figure moved toward the door of my room. Still I lay as in deep Bleep. On the threshold the ligure paused, and in a moment later a single ray of light like a silver thread pierced the darkness and fell upon the bed. Luckily it did not strike myface, and in an instant I closed my eyes. As I liad anticipated, the ray of light was directed toward my pillow, and by the sense of feeling I knew it rested on my face. Satisfied that I wns in deep slumber, the figure, still with cat-like tread, glided through the bed room and into the ticket office. My eyes were wide open again by this time. 1 he light from the dark lantern had in creased, hut its ravs were now turned toward the safe. Obviously the robber believed the treasure he sought was there. I waited until he knelt down to examine the lock, and then, witli steps as noise'ess as his own, I slipped from the bed and toward the half-opened door. So intent was he in examining the safe that it was net until I was within reach of him that he heard me. lie sprang to his feet, bringing the glass of the lantern lull into my face, and reaching for his revolver, which he lad laid upon the top of the safe. Hut he was too late. With the rusty old pistol, held by its long barrel, . dealt him a crushing blow on the head iust as his lingers grasped his own weapon. He fell heavily without uttering a gronn. The lantern was extinguished as it fell, and with trembling lingers I struck a match and lighted the lamp in the office. As iis rays fell upon the upturned face of the robber I saw that blood was flow ing from the wound I had inflirted, and I saw, too, thatiiis nvc was delicate in iti outlines and intelligent in expression. | 1 had time to notice no more, for I felt, I now that the danger was past, the need jof aid. So, after binding the uneon j scions man's feet and arms and bathing his head in cold water, I puliisi on my boots and overcoat and started in hot haste for the hotel. Half-way on the road I met a covcr< d carriage drawn by one horse. 1 took it to be the turn-out of Matthews, Hie hotel proprietor, and wondei ing what he could bo out for at that hour, I shouted hilt name. I got no response. 1 hen 1 cried out at the top of my voice: " I've killed a burglar down at the station!" Whoever wns in he carri vgc must have heard m, hut the horse only quickened his sharp trot, and disap j penred in the darkness. J They give me a good deal more credit, i the people of Red Ravine, for that night's , adventure, than I dese/ve. And I do not blame them for laughing at how things cane nut. For when a party of us_ got hack to the station my uncon scious burrlar had disappeared, and the tracks next in-rning showed that the covered carriage which I had met on the road had drawn up at the plat form. Who was in it? Well. I couldn't | swear, but I have a notion tha'. it con ( tained the gentleman who had come on j with the body. At all events, neither ! lie nor the body was cvei seen in the I town again. I had the satislaction of delivering the money package solely to Eloridge & Rickeston, but the check they gave me was not really merited. For what would have happened had it not been for the mysterious message which no man sent?— Washington I'oat. Rutin nay Horses. The horse that lias once acquired the habit of running away, says "The Book of the Horse," will bolt on the first opportunity. It you -upt his in tention the best plan is t-> check it the moment he begins to move, taking hold of one ri in with lx<th hands, and giving ; it one or two such violent j< rks that the i rogue must pause or turn round. Then stop him, and, if you doubt your being I able to hold him. get off. Perhaps a I too vigorous "plug" may make him cress his legs and fall—not a pleasant contin gency, but any tiling is better than being run away with in a street. In open country you may compi Ittle runaway to gallop with a loose rein until he is tired, or to move in a constantly narrow ing circle until ho is glad to hirit. A ten-acre field is big enough for this expedient. Rut the great point is to stop a runaway before IIP gets into Ills stride; after IIP is once away few bits will stop a real runaway—a steady pull is a waste of exertion on the rider's part. Some horses nviy be stopped by pawing the mouth with the snuffie, but nothing will check an old hand. An other expedient is to hold the reins very lightly, and on the first favorable opportunity, as a rising hill, for instance, to try a succession of jerks. Hut the running,'practiced runaway is not to be so mu< h feared as the mad, frightem-d horse. The mad horse will dash against a brick wall, or jump at spiked railings of impossible height. I once saw a run away horse, after grttingrid of his rider, charge and break open his locked stable door. Richard the Third's lied. In the corporation records of Leicester there is atill preserved a story curiously illustrative of the darkneas and precau tion of Richard's character. Among his camp baggage it was his custom to carry a cumbersome wooden bedstead, which lie averred was the only couch he could sleep in, hut in which he contrived to have a secret receptacle for treasure, so that it was concealed under a weight of timber. After Bos worth field the troops of Henry pillaged Leicester, but the royal bed was neg- i lected by every plunderer as useless luni- l her. The owner of the hou afterward diw*overing the hoard become suddenly rich without any visible cause. lie bought land, and at length he became mayor of I.ei crater. Many years afterward, his widow, wi.o had been left in great affluence, was assassinated by her servant, who had been privy to the affair; and at the trial of this culprit and her accomplices the whole transaction came to light. Concerning this bed, a public print of 1830 states that about a century Bince the relic wns purchased by a furniture broker in Leicester, who slept in it for many years, and showed it to the curi ous; It continues in r.s good condition apparently as when used by King Rich ard, being formed of oak and having a b'flh polish. The daughter of the broker having married one Babington, of Kothley, near Leicester, the bedstead was removed to Babington's bouse, where it is still preserved. Iarge holes In a loaf of bread 'are preof of a careless cook. The kneading Las been slighted. TIMKLY TOPIC*. The London V\me < suyb that the Hus sum Nihilists carry about their persons the types with which they n u tlieir print ing. If it is necessary to publish tt proclamation or other document the compoHitorH meet in secret, and in the quickest possible way put in type the manuscript, and then print it from a hand press. When the necessary num ber of copies is ready the press is taken to pieties and put in the pockets of the conspirators, who immediately return to their homes. Prior to the beginning of the eigh teenth century, opium was imported into China in comparatively small quan tities, and mainly used as a remedy in dysentery. The vice of opium smoking began in the latter half of the seven teenth century, but the drug was tben too dear to permit the habit to spiead rapidly; at the end of a hundred years, however, it had extended over the whole empire. Thefir.it edict against the practice was issued in 1796, and since then there have been innumerable prohibitory enactments, but all power less to arrest the evil, which is now greater than ever he/ore, and increasing in an alarming ratio. The report of the Canadian govern ment superintendent of railroads shows, that including 915 miles under com-truc tion, there are now ft,032 miles of railway in ttint country, with an inverted capital of $362,(X 10,000. There roads hurt year earned $19,925,000, and their operating expenses were $10,190,000; the net earn ings were, therefore, equal to a dividend of 1.07 per rent, upon the share and bonded liability, allowing nothing for the government and municipal bonuses. The number of passengers carried during the year was 6,523,000, of whom hut nine were killed and but twenty injured. Of the lour leading roads the Grand Trunk did the largest business, their earnings being over $8,500,000, and more than twice as large as those of the Great Western, which ranks next in importance. Miss Uiley, of Cincinnati, is making her mark as a dentist. One day her father asked her if she would not like to study dentistry. She taught at the idea eagerly. " I went into it with all man ner of enthusiasm,said Miss Kiley. "and I think it is beautiful work." One could not but think of the horiibie clamps and other instruments of tor ture, hut evidently these had n pait in thc young lady's visions. Afttr study ing at Hamilton she came to the Ohio Dental college and took the course, set ting up herself as a professional dentist only last month. " I)o you find that you have the strength to pull V cth?" was inquired. " Yes, if necessary," she replied, " but really it is very seldom that it is necessary. Dental science has discovered so many ways that arc belter, and we restore'the imperfect tooth rather than extract it." A difficulty lias supervened in the construction of the St. Gothnrd tunnel under the Alps which threatens to seri ously retard its completion. In the part of it where the formation is of porous white stone the vaulting has already given way twice or three times, and ft has required the greatest care and con stant staying with timber to prevent the passage thereabouts from completely collapsing. It was thought, however that a granite wall six feet thick would Bupport the superincumbent mass of white stone and keep the tunnel perman ently open. A wall of this thickness has been finished, hut it has begun to give way. end the engineers are at their wits' end how to overcome the difficulty. In the opinion of the geologist of the iunnel it can be overcome only by making a wide curve so as to get round the white stone in-lead of going through it. This would involve tlie entire reconstruction of that nart oi tic tunnel, in which cases prohably, it will not be ready for traffic before the time fixed for the completion of the lines of approach— two years hence. Milk as Food. Unadulterated, undiluted, unskimmed and properly treated milk, says the lxmdon Isincct, taken from a healthy cow in good condition, and produced by the consumption of healthy and nu tritious grasses and other kinds of food, contains within itself in proper propor tions, says Professor Sheldon, all the elements necesi-nry to sustain human life through a considerable period of time. Scarcely any other article of food will do this. When we eat bread and drink milk we eat br< ad. butter and cheese and drink water—all of them in the best combination and condition to nourish the human system. All things considered, good miik is the cheapest kindoffood that we have, for three pints of it. weighing three and three-quarter pounds, and costing ten cents, contain as much nutriment a* one pound of beef, which costs lit teen cents. There is no loss in cooking milk, as there is in cooking the beef, snd there is no bone in it that cannot b? eaten; it is simple, palatable, nutritious, healthful, cheap and always ready for use with or with out preparation. This is to sny that, chemically, three-sevenths pounds of milk is the equivalent of one pound of beef, in flcsh-imtiling or nitrogenous constituents, and turec-seveDUentba pounds of milk is the equivalent of one pound of beef, in heat-producing ele ments, or carbo-hydrates. We must theretore assume lrom the data offered that the relative of beef and miik as human food are as three and one-haif pounds to eleven and one-half pounds, or as. in round numbers, one to three and one-half. II onxe-llu ilding t pe. In the middle of All ien is found MI ape which builds a ahe'tcr lor himself in a tree. He selects a tall tree growing neariy straight out, and about twenty feet from the ground. This branch is for his floor, and ovrr it he makes a roof, exactly in the shape of a large umbrella, with the trunk of the tree for the hnndic. It is mndc of leaf branches, tied on to the In* with vine*, oi which African woods are foil, and is au well shaped and neatly made that It would do credit to a hu.i.nn builder. When the ape is at home, he tits In the branch with bis head up under the green roof, and an arm around thetrunk to hold on. One animal live# in each house alone, and he uses it only until he lias eaten all the food he cares for near, and then lie builds a new house ill another place. Two hundred railroad bridge are said to have fallen within the past ;, x years. fhe Hong of the Honor. Tbe farmer eon*! at hie open door, Ixjoketl north and aoulij ami euet and st Good wife, the swallow* are hack once not ** Back again to lh;ir Lutt yeer'a neat. I rn of! to the field* to apeed the plow, i he birds are (tinging on every bough. i he skies are dreaming of summer blue; Trees are dreaming of rustling leaves; And I have a dream—God make it true!— Of standing com, and of golden sheaves, Of meadows green, and of new-made nay And reapers singing at dawn o day. Call all the boys;Jwe must go afleid, To speed the plow and cast the seed; God bless the seed, and make it to yield Plenty, both mart and beast to loed 1 God bless the seel, and sjteed the plow yor birds are singing on every bough j 1 hen out with his Itoys the larmer went, Into the fields the soil spring tnorn, Sowing the seed with a glad content, Singing, while sowing the good seed-corn, God bless the narrow, and bless the plow, 1 be corn, the wheat, and the barley mow* —Htirptr't ITEMS OF I.VTEIIEST. • Whoever learns to stand alone must J learn to fail alone. When a man attains the age if ninety he may be termed XG dingly old. Does not a farmer become a cannibai when h< eats his own kine?— Fonkeri Statesman. " What,'' asks the New Haven Run* ter, "is worse than freckles?"' Yuti i might try a boil. Kanrokuro Naka Yoma.a Japanese, has passed a satisfactory examination j for tbe bar at 80-ton. The lir-t iron works in this country ! were erected in 1619 at Falling Creek, , not far from Jamestown, Va. There are, it is said, eigtit translations of the Bible in the languages of the i South Sea islands and New Zealand. The Federal government has spent | over (30 000.000 since the war in erect ing government buildings all over the country. About 336.300,000 gallons ol le< r were manufactured in the United State* in 1679, and 1,545,500,000 gallons in Great | Britian. I Lady Hareourt, daughter of J. j Ixitnrop Motley, is the tirst American 1 lady who has become the wife of at j English cabinet minister. It is now about 140 years sin ' the ! beginning of foreign missions, and in --| verts from heathenism now number j about a million and a half. "None kn< w him but to iove him, | nor nanx d him but to praise," yet ' is '■ friends stuck ail the closer when they j found he'd made a " raise."- New For* News. What's the use of talking so much about spelling reform that's an easy word, anybody can h|h reform. Why ! don't they take a bat •< one?—SUuben j villc ll(T<dd. A friend writes from the Colorado ! mountains to say that he got as rav<n j ous as a raven among the ravines, and i ait down in one of tne goigeous gorges and gorged himself, ' The placing of stamps upside down jon letters is prohibited. Several post masters have recently been scrioueiy I injured while trying to stand on thetr ' heads to cancei stamps placed ir. this j manner. To keep dried beef: I)o up in a thick brown paper each piece separate; take a box. put in a layer of dry ashes, then a layer of beef, then alternate; cover | the top with dry ashes; set in a cool, dry place A newspaper out West thus heads its ! report oi a fire: "Feast of the Fire Fiend —The Fork-Tongued Demon Licks with its Lurid Breath a Lumber j Pile!— Are the Scenes of Boston to be Repeated ?—lxtss 150 doll." The suit with postilion basque, tabiier overskirt and round skirt, is one of the prettiest designs for a simple dress of woolens—hunting, cashmere, cheviot, or camei's-hair—to be worn in the mornings at home, for shopping travel ing, etc. A Michigan giri doping to get mar ' ricd halted on the way to purchase a , pair of cotton gloves, and her fath< r had time to come up and put a stop to me proceedings. Hang a girl who won't get married bare-handed to the chsp she loves — iMroil SYcc /Yes*. According to the Abbe Petitot there I are two districts in the Bouchcs du I Rhone where all the inhabitants—some I 15,000—stammer. He ascribes this to i long continued in terms triages among i the communities and to a consequent j degeneracy of the race. An Ohio pioneer. James D. Covert, | recently died at Mansfield. He went ; there from Nw Jersey in 1007. At Chautauqua. N. Y., his team gave out and he and his family walked the rest I o the way. and arrived with but three j dollars in money. He worked stradlly and died the richest man in hit town, ship, leaving twmty-twochildren. It may interest somebody to know i that the first summer cottage built in | Newport, K. !.. was in 1838. and is the , house now standing opposite the Ocean | house. It was built by George Jones, of Savannah, who paid (6.700 for the ! lot. David Sears, of Boston. George Bancroft, 11. A. Middle ton, of South I Carolina, and Albert Sumner, brother ol Charles Sumt er, were among the first summer residents. The growth of Newport is something astonishing to look back upon. Here is one instance. A plot of ground sold in 1848 for (0,000. and its last sale was for (00,000. The first hotel was built there in 1843 at a cost of (-0,000, and Abbott lawmot was its firjt patron. It Is a curious fact not generally known at a certain point on tie Upper Columbia, close lo tne water's edge, the fine sand fs continually traveling up stream in one eternal procession. Talk of the great army of Xerxes on the march—what was that to the myriad bat aliens that pace on the marge ol the mighty river? In comparison with these tiny travelers what ate the •' leaves oi the forest when the summer is green ? ' This sand is being con tinually washed ashore, and as tbe water falls away with the dearth ol the reason it is taken up by the winds, car ried back up stream, is blown into the water and tnakos another voyage, and . , Wor k of transportation back and forth, by land and by sea, goes oa forever and ever.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers