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.