Autumn.
The burning lummtr days am gone.
And autumn'* riper (ervor spent;
But cloudless still llie sun move* on,
And azure spreads the flnuaraeut,
Bare where it bemls to earth, and dip*
Into the wartn and thirsty haze,
Which tinge* the horizon's lips
On still October day*.
A sober russet robe* the fields,
A gorgeous drapery decks the wold,
In all the splendor Nature yields
Oi crimson, scarlet, green and gold,
With every nameless tint between,
Which light's mysterious depths oomp rise
The hand ol Industry delays—
Deserted lies the harvest plain;
Save where, by unfrequented ways,
Lumbers the heavy-laden wain,
And silent all, save here and there
The throbbing sound oi winnowing grain,
And swelling, tailing, on the air,
The roar ot distant train.
No lambs are sporting on the hill,
The solemn herds in silent rove;
No more the wildbird's merry trill
Awakes the concert ot the grove,
And voices which, in evening hid,
Kept revel all the summer long,
Are silent now, and Katydid
Has ceased her weary song.
Nature her hosts ot lavish lite
Back to the garrison withdraws,
And, prescient ot the coming strife,
Collects herself in tranquil pause.
So pause my downward years l>o(ore
The final blight ot child decay,
Clinging to one fair season more—
My own October day.
—Jamet C. Mqffat.
A MOTHER'S SACRIFICE.
A fire burned in the low grate, but the
little light it gave revealed all the grace of
Mrs. Wingfield's slight form in its close
fitting robes of black. To-night, for
the first time in her two years of widow
hood, she laid off the widow's cap.
which had for so long served to conceal
the thick aubnrn braids so artistically
coiled about the small head. Perhaps
for this same reason she had dismissed
the butler when he entered according
to custom to light lamps, or perhaps
because the slow ticking of the clock
upon the mantel revealed to her suffi
ciently the lapse of time without com
pelling her to distinguish the hands
upon the face of the dial drawing nearer
and nearer the hour whose close ap
proach dissipated the calmness she
vainly strove to gain.
Eighteen years had passed since she
and Arthur Mainwaring had met. They
had been lovers in that far-off time, but
he was poor then, with no whisper in
the air of the rich inheritance to which
be afterward fell heir, ju3t too late for it
to bring happiness to either. Not that
they cared for wealth, either of them,
but then there were older, wiser minds
to judge for both, and so, each vowing
eternal vows, they were torn apart.
Six short months later she married
Edward Wingfield. He was, fortunately,
not a man to look for love and sentiment
in his young wife-—only wifely duty and
obedience. In these she never failed
him, and after his death the world found
proof of his esteem in the fact that to
his widow reverted all his fortune, un
trammeled by a single reservation.
She had married very yonng. She
was but thirty-five now. Would he
find her changed, she wondered—he for
whose coming she waited here to-day P
Simultaneously with the thought
came the sound of carriage wheels and
horses' hoofs on the graveled walk. She
started to her feet, pressing both hands
upon her fast-beating heart. Only that
morning she Lad received the telegram
announcing Arthur Mainwaring's com
ing, and already he was here. She was
glad, oh, so glad, that the room was
dark, when she heard the quick, firm
thread she had sometimes heard in her
dreams during these long years of duti
ful living; so glad that he could not see
the quick blush, which put her matron
bood to shame, when the door was
thrown hastily open, and three or four
swift strides brought him to her side.
" Barbara!"
Oh, how his voice still thrilled her—
half with pleasure, half; with pain I
His tall form towered far above her,
as in the olden time; bnt he {held close
in his own firm, tender grasp, her two
iiUle trembling hands.
"Are you glad to see me P" lie ques
tioned. She strove to answer, but her
lips quivered, and no words came.
" Barbara," he said then again, and
he bowed his handsome head lower,
" is it too soon to speak P"
''Oh, Arthur," she answered, "can I
yet atone?"
And then the bridge of years was
swept away, and she sobbed out her
happiness upon his heart.
"Let mo see vou," he said, at last.
" I have not yet seen the lace for which
I have hungered ail these years."
He struck a light, then turned and
looked at her.
"My darling!" he said. "It is still
my beautiful Barbara. What have I
done to deserve this hour?"
"Mamma, where are youP" called out
a fresh, girlish voice at this instant.
The next moment a young girl of
scarce seventeen summers sprang into
the room.
"This is my daughter, Arthur—my
only child. Dora, let me present you to
one of your mother's oldest friends."
The gentleman indicated looked from
one to .the other—from the mother to
the daughter—then back again. Now
he could realize the lapse of time—now
be could appreciate the changes years
had wrought. It was ss though he had
brought the past and, present face to
face forcing him to acknowledge the Im
possibility of nature's standing still.
The daughter was a fair counterpart
of the mother's beauty. As she looked
now shyly extending to him her hand,
as if in deprecation of her unceremon
ious entrance, so had Barbara looked,
when extending her hand in farewell, as
though she would have said, " I am
forced into it by a stronger will than
mine."
An uncomfortable sensation rose up
in his breast—a dumb warring against
the inevitable—an unacknowledged de
sire to retrace life's pathway and con
quer time.
Meantime the young girl pouted the
full, red lips, as she thought her
mother's friend strangely absent; and
when he at last forced himself into a
few words of greeting, they fell upon
dull, unheeding ears.
Then she had gone. The lovers were
alone again, but he no longer opened
wide his arms, but instead, drew a
chair to her side, that they might dis
cuss more rationally.
" You must teach Dora to love you,"
she said to him next morning. "I want
first to reconcile her to my second mar
riage before startling her with its pos
sibility. Tell me—do you think her
like me P"
"Your second self."
"Ah, lam so glad! You will love
her, then, for my sakeP"
To love and be loved 1 Over-easy task
set by trml woman in her blindness. It
must be Mr. Mainwaring who must be
Dora's companion in her daily ride. Mr.
Mainwaring who must teach tier to
manage the cockle-boat—for which he
had sent to town—in these first early
spring days. The lovers were seldom
alone now.
Dora looked up at their guest as her
property. She had long ago laughingly
told him how unceremonious had been
his welcome to tier, and he had wooed
and won his absolution.
Sometimes Barbara sigbed as she
watched them together, while she sat
alone, but she gave to the sigh no name,
and thought it a tribute to the vanished
years.
One day came her awaking. Dora
and Mr. Mainwaring had gone for their
afternoon ride, but it had extended be
yond its wont, and she had grown
anxious and gone out to meet them,
sinking into the forest path which was
their favorite way. Half a mile from
her home she met Dora's horse rider
less. Paie with terror, she hastened on,
when she suddenly stopped, rooted to
the spot. Almost at her feet knelt the
man her heart had loved always, and in
bis arms he held Dora's unconscious
form.
"My love! my life!" he said, each
word being borne distinctly to her ear;
"speak to me once—just once! Oh,
Dora, are you hurt? My darling, would
that I might have given my life for
yours!"
Then he stooped and pressed his lips
to hers. A long fluttering sigh escaped
them.
" Arthur!"she whispered ; " Arthur!"
" I am here, dear," he said.
And then he laid her down out of his
arms, as though, with returning life, he
remembered the duty it brought with
it.
The mother sprang forward.
"Do not be alarmed," Mr. Mainwar
ing said, gently, on seeing her- "Her
horse threw her. I think there is no
serious injury."
No serious injury! None to Dora,
hut Barbara knew that her wound was
past healing.
When, a few hours later, they knew
that there was no need for anxiety on
her account, Barbara shut herself up
within her own room to fight her battle.
" I cannot give him up," she moaned.
"He does not know his own heart. He
will forget this child, and she—she can
not love him."
But even as she reasoned came the
remembrance of the one word, " Ar
thur!" and ttic tone in winch she had
spoken it.
" I will try her," she said, and for the
first time in her life came a feeling of
bitter resentment even against her
child.
They were sitting together in the li
brary as she entered.
"Arthur," she said, "I think it is
time tiiat we told Dora the truth."
The man's face paled. She could al
most see fiim gird his soul for the con
flict, and crush out his heart behind his
honor. Even Dora looked up with a
suspicion of coming trouble.
" It is only this, dear," Barbara said,
tnrning to her daughter; " lias not Mr.
Mainwaring told you that be was an
engaged man?"
Then she saw that the steel had
struck home. The child answered
nothing as she turned two wet, re
proachful eyes to him, who dared not
meet their gaze. Until this instant she
had not known tiiat she possessed a
heart. She learned it now to her cruel
cost.
" I must congratulate Mr. Mainwar
ing." she said, calling up all her
woman's pride to her aid, then hastened
from the room to hide the burst of tears,
the two were left alone.
"Does she suspect, do you think?'
she asked, gloating over his torture.
" She must know," he answered. " I
am ready, Barbara, to fulfill my bond.
Let there be no farther delay."
"Will you not, then, plead that I
asked only the pound of flesh, without a
drop of blood, and that your life must
pay the forfeit I demand P"
" What can you mean?" he aaked, in
a bewildered way.
"Only,"she said, "that I plead my
cause for youis. Release me, Arthur.
I find I cannot marry you."
Five minutes ago she would have |
thought herself incaoable of the sacri
fice; yet here she stood, quiet and calm,
giving no outward sign of the inward
whirlpool, nor the torture that wrung
her as she watched the weight lift Irom
his soul at her words.
"You no longer love me?" he ques
tioned.
" I am growing old," with a mocking
laugh; and in his blindness he accepted
her words as denial, and went forth
content, little dreaming of the sacrifi "c
the mother had made for her daughter's
happiness.
A little later he came to her, Dora
blushing, radiant with happiness, by
his side.
" Will you give her to me?" he asked.
" I loved her, Barbara, because she was
your second self!"
The Fast Trotters.
A reporter has Interviewed Mr. Bon
ner concerning fast horses, and that
gentleman is far Ircm willing to admit
that the world contains a fleeter trotter
t ban one or two to be found in his stable.
There is undoubtedly much rivalry be
tween Mr. Vandcrbilt and the proprietor
of the ledger as to wholshall have the
fastest roadster, and had Mr. Vander
bilt's offer of $50,000 secured St. Julien,
that gentleman would doubtless feel
that he is the owner of a pair which no
one would be pass on the road.
And p : nce it is generally believed that
Maud can equal if not improve the
time made by St. Julien at Hartford, he
no doubt considers himsc 1 he owner of
the fastest roadster in the world. Mr.
Bonner believes that the bent time on
record will yet be brought down several
seconds, and he is confident that Itarus
can trot in 2:10, and that Edwin For
rest, with a record of 2:151 to wagon, is
the greatest wagon horse in the world.
Since Lady Suffolk trotted a mile In
• :26j, and Flora Temple in 2:19|, aston
ishing reductions in time have been
made, the official record of horses that
have gone below the time which made
Dexter famous being as follows:
2 -.111, S. Julien.
2:111, Maud S,
2:131, Rartis.
2:14, Goldsmith Maid.
2 It',. Hopeful.
2:15, Lulu.
2:151, Smuggler.
2:161, Lucille Golddust.
2:161, American Girl and Derby.
2:161, Occident.
2:17, Gloster.
2:171, Dexter.
Mr. Bonner attributes the improve
ment chiefly to toeweights, smoother
tracks and lighter vehicles, and con
jesses that without his toeweights Ed
win Forrest would not be worth SSOO
ud Maud S. would be no better.—N cw
York Mail.
Hogs Killing a Jaguar.
The wild hogs of South America are
very savage, and when aroused know no
fear. One night a hungry party of ex
plorers, ramped in a Brazilian forest,
heard an uproar of grunting, squeaking
and clashing of tusks.
"Pigs!" exclaimed all, with joyful
ness; " now we'll have a dinner!"
Snatching .heir guns, they crept cau
tiously toward the sounds. Coming to
the edge of a clearing, they saw a jaguar
standing on an ant hill, about five fe t
from the ground. Surrounding him
were fifty or sixty wild hogs, furious in
their efforts to get at their enemy. The
jaguar, with his tail stuck well up in
the air, and his legs close together,
stood balancing himself on the hillock.
As the infuriated pigs threatened one
side or the other, he would turn around
and face them. He was evidently un
easy, and only waited for a cnance to
mnke a rush and escape. In a moment
of forgetfulness, the jaguar slightly
dropped his tail. Instantly a pig seized
it and pulled; then another, and and
other, and the henst was dragged from
his perch to the ground. The battle was
terrible- The yellow body ol the jaguar
rose up above the grunting, squealing
mass of pigs, and his powerful jaws
stiuck deadly blows. Then he fell—the
uproar subsided, and the herd dispersed.
The party of explorers walked to the
battle ground. Fourteen dead pigs were
lying on the field, but no jaguar or its
remains were seen. Presently one of
the party, picking up a fragment of
something, exclaimed:
" Here's th* tiger!"
It wns a bit of the jaguar's skin. He
had been torn to pieces and devoured by
the savage hogs.
What Makes the Man.
Many people forget that character
grows; that it is not something to put
on, ready made, with womanhood and
manhood, but day by day, here a little
and therea little, grows with the growth
and strengthens with the strength, until,
good or bad, it becomes almost a coat
of mail. Pir.mpt, reliable, conscien
tious, yet clear-headed and energetic,
when do you suppose he developed all
these admirable qualities? When he
was a boy.
Let us see the way in which a boy of
ten years gets up in the morning, works,
plays, studies, and we will tell you just
what kind of a man be will make. The
boy that is late at breakfast, and late at
school, stands a poor chance to be a
man. The boy who neglects his duties,
be they ever so small, and then excuses
himself by saying, "I forgot? I didn't
think!" will never be a reliable man.
And the boy who finds pleasure in the
suffering of weaker things will never be
a nobis, generous, kindly man—a gen
tleman. __________
Plant your neighbor's oats early.
One under each fruit tree will help your
crop and do your neighbor a good turn
besidse.
Becklng-Stones.
Scattered over certain portions of the
British isles, and here and there in other
parts of the world, may be found masses
of detached rock, often of great size,
f oised so nioely on a narrow base that
they move to and fro under very slight
pressure, and known in Great Britain
by the name of " logan" or "rocking"
stones. In somo cases the action of the
wind alone is sufficient to set them in
motion
Formerly, these stones, from their
peculiar characteristics, were considered
to be the work of human hands, and
were classed among " Druidic remains"
—the common belief being that they
were connected with the religious rites
and ceremonies of the Druids.
One of the absurd beliefs was that if
a supposed culprit was brought to a
his guilt or innocence
would bo at once proclaimed—if guilty,
the stone would vibrate on his approach
by unseen power; while on the other
hand his innocence vould be proved by
his remaining stationary. An opposite
belief—that the stone would "rock"at
the slightest touch of those pure at
heart, but wouid withstand even a
giant's power when exerted by the
guilty—is thus well expressed by the
poet Mason:
| Heboid yon huge
And unhewn sphere ol living udarnant,
Which, poised by magic, rests its aenli-a
weight.
On yonder pointed rock; flrtn as it aeotnn,
Such is its strange and virtuous property,
It moves obsequious to the gentlest touch
Ol him whose heart is pure; but to a traitor
Though e'en a giant's prowess nervodhis arm
It stands as fixed aa Snowdon.
These beliefs, like many others con
nected with so-called cromlechs and
other remains, are, however, exploded,
and it is now very generally agreed that
roeking-stones are not works of art, bu
the result of natural causes.
There can be no doubt that in most
cases the "rocking" property of these
masses of stone is entirely due to weath
ering; disintegration having been ef
fected through countless by the
action of wind and rain, and sometimes
by sand blown by the wind upon tn?
masses of jutting rock of which they arc
comprised. In some instances, too, there
is little doubt the superincumbent mass
has fallen or rolled from the rocks and
heights above, and become accidentally
poised on its present bed; and in others
again they may have been deposited in
their position by glaciers or icebergs.
In all cases, however, we shall be safe
in attributing, in one way or other, their
formation to natural agency. At one ol
the meetings of the British association,
this theory was clearly demonstra cd by
Mr. Grove, who stated that by artificial
attrition he - had himself made several
miniature rocking-stones; "andthus he
showed how by the action of the atmos
phere on their corners, many large
masses of rock, which iiave a tCLdency
to disintegrate into cubical or tabular
blocks might gradually become rounded
into the rude spheroidal shape generally
presented by the logan."— Chamber)?
Journal.
What Children Should Read.
The greatest trouble which ensues
from placing sensational literature in
the hands of children is the false ide.i of
life which it produces. Many children
every year, after reading those thrilling
adventures and glowing descriptions of
the "golden West," have become dis
satisfied witli the tame and seemingly
uneventful school life, and have left
their homes to seek their fortunes and
follow their hero. Most of these de
luded fortune-hunters find their mistake
and like the prodigal return, but with
the taste for good reading impaired.
Such literature should not he placed
within the reach of children. There are
plenty of good, useful books of moral
tone that are suitable, pleasing and at
the same time instructive. History is
now gotten up in such a pleasant style
that it is a source of amusement as well
as instructive to read it. If novels must
be read -and none can deny that a good
novel occasionally does no harm his
torical are preferable to those whose
chief merit seems to be the excitement
they may produce and the false ideas of
life they may create. Every piece n
child rends should contain a grain of
trutli, either moral, philosophical, po
litical or historical, that it may spring
up and bear some fruit of usefulness.
It is quite important, too, that the
youth should be conversant with the
topics of the day, whicli may be found in
the leading papers. No one can be con
sidered well read who knows nothing of
the literature of the times.
Jay (Isold's Eyebrows.
" How Jay Gould lost his eyebrows,"
is the.suhject of a thrilling romanoe con
structed especially for the St. iouis
Republican. He had his all staked on
Union Pacific, and the stock had been
worked up from nine.to about sixty-six.
A case iikely to make bis fortune or
ruin him was before the supreme court
at Washington. When the decision
was to be rendered Gould hired a pri
vate wire and took his seat at the New
York end of it. The first of the opinion
began to come over the wire and it was
a mere histcry 'of the case. " Oh, shut
him off," cried Mr. Gould, "and ask
him whether the decision of the lower
court Is affirmed." The answer was
awaited with breathless anxiety. Gould
sank in his chair as pale as a dead man,
those [about him were much oonoerned
for fear tuat if the decision was adverse
he would be killed by it. The operator
at length gave the news that the de
cision of tbe lower oourt had been
affirmed. Mr. Gould was prostrated,
though the decision gave him millions.
He was carried to his home in Fifth
avenue, and a long sickness followed.
All bis hair oame out, including bis eye
brows, and those nature never restored.
CKYNTALIZKD EM.
A Traffic that hu HUi to Uroot In
porlancr.;
The egg traffic of this country bits
riaen to an importance which few com
prehend. The aggregate transactions
In New York city alone must amount to
fully s><.ooo,ooo per annum, and in the
United States to $1)1,000,000. A Bingic
tirm in that line of business Kast
handled 1 ,000,000 worth of eggs during
the year. In Cincinnati, too, the traflic
must be proportionately large. In
truth, the great galiinnccous tribe of our
country barnyards contributes in no
small degree to human subsistence, eggs
being rich in nutritive properties—equal
to one-half their entire weight. Goose,
duck and hen eggs are the principal
kinds produced in America. We have
nothing, however, like we are told used
to be found in M adagascar, or have been
found |there, the gigantic woa egg,
measuring thirteen and a half inches in
extreme length, and holding eight and
a half quarts. One of these birds with
a single effort, might supply a modem
l>oarding-housc with omelets for a day.
The perishable nature of eggs has
naturally detracted from their vaiue as
a standard article of diet. The peculiar
excellence of eggs depends upon their
freshness. Hut lately the process of
crystal!zing has been resorted to, and by
this process the natural egg is converted
into a delicate amber tint, in which form
it is reduced seven-eighth in bulk com
pared with barreled eggs, and retains its
properties for years unimpaired by any
climate. This is indeed an achievement
of science and mechanical ingenuity, and
has a most important bearing on the
question of cheaper food, by preventing
waste, equalizing prices throughout the
year, and regulating consumption. In
this form eggs may be transported with
out injury, either to the equator or to
the poles, and at any time can be re
stored to their original condition simply
by adding the water which has been
artificially taken away. Tiie chief egg.
desiccating companies are in St. Louiß
and New York. No salts or other ex
traneous matters are introduced in the
process of crystalizing, the product is
simply a consilidated mixture of the yolk
and albumen. Immense quantities of
eggs are preserved in the spring of the
year by liming. Thus treated they are
good for every purpose except boiling.
It is a common trick for some dealers to
paim off eggs so treated for fresh, so that
imposition is easily practised. In the
desication process, however, the differ
ence becomes apparent, as from four to
five more eggs are required to make a
pound of eggs crystaliz<>d than when
fresh are used, and eggs in the least
tainted will not crystalize at all.
Some of the most experienced egg
dealers declare that there is no profit in
raising poultry to compare with produc
ing eggs. A single hen will lay from
twelve to fifteen dozen eggs per annum,
selling at an average of eighteen cents
per dozen, and the birds thus occupied
can be housed and fed for less than fifty
cents for the whole period. In the East
the price per dozen is much higher.
Here we buy them by the dozen. Step
into an Eastern produce establishment,
and they will sell you so much for a
quarter of a dollar. There is nojreason
why the crystalizing process should not
become quite general, and egg produc
tion stimulated as never before, and the
food fuoply receive large accession from
this source. The already great and in
creasing consumption of eggs in Eng
land and 1* ranee shows growing appre
ciation for this kind of food compared
with any other. In Lima, Peru, eggs
sell at one dollar per dozen—equal to
four dollars per pound crystalizcd. It
is thought that this new process for pre
serving for utilization the industry of
our hens and pullets may be very ac
ceptable, as well as beneficial, in a
busineas and domestic point of view.—
Cincinnati Commercial.
Wards of Wisdom.
Sin has a great many tools; hut a lie
is the handle which fit 9 them all.
Ceremonies differ in every country;
but true politeness is ever the same.
An idle reason lessons the weight o
the good ones you gave before.
People are never playing the fool so
much as when they think themselves
extra wise.
Let your will lead whither necessity
would drive, and you will always pre
serve your liberty.
It is with youth as with plants; from
the first fruits they bear we learn what
may be expected in future.
The firefly only shines when on the
wing. Ho is it with the mind: when
once we rest we darken.
False shame and fear of blame cause
more bad actions than good, but virtue
never blushes but for evil.
Poverty often deprives a man of all
spirit and virtue. It is hard for an
empty bag to stand upright.
Pictures drawn in our minds are laid
in fading colors, ami unless sometimes
refreshed,-vanish and disappear.
Proud men seldom have friends. In
prosperity they know nobody; and in
adversity nobody cares to know them.
Nature makes us poor when we want
necessities, but custom gives the name
of poverty to the want of superilui'
ties.
Envy feeds upon the living; after
death it ceases then, every man's well
earned honors defend him against
calumny. _______
It is ssd to think that so many wen
meaning and naturally joyous spirits
are compelled to go through .Ife with
out owning a steam yacht.
Hope sticks to s man closer than any
thiug we know of- -except corns.
■ii'i Brotherhood.
II any man moat (all lor me to riee,
Then week I not to climb. Another*. p*i n
I cbooae notlormy good. Agol'lmcliain,
A robe ol honor, U too poor a prize
To tempt my haaty hand to do a wrong
Unto a lei low man. Thla lile hath woe
Sufficient, wrought by inan'r eatauiie loe,
Ami who, thai hath a heart, would dare prolong
Or add a aorrow to a etricken noul
That Mieka aome healing balm to rnako it
whole?
My lioaom owni the brotherhood of man,
From <iod ami truth a renegade ia he
Who acorns a poor man in hia poverty,
Or on hia lellow lays hia superstition ban.
Thomat Maektllar
ITEM# OP IFfTEBEHT.
A locomotive drinks forty-five gallons
per mile.
Prairie chickens are game to the las'.
—Piaiyunc.
Nit* Florida rattlesnakes are worth
t5 each in New York.
Sick people relish a broth made from
the hind legs of a frog more than frog*
do.
France has 40,000.000 bens, with only
5,000,000 women to throw things a',
them.
A woman who has four sons, ail sail
ors,compares herself with a year.berau*-*
she has four seasons.
Of all the ruins in the worid, the
ruin of man is, most assuredly, the sad
dest to contemplate.
The man who doesn't know his own
mind should be introduced as soon as ii
is big enough.— Picayune.
Many a tramp would be thankful for
cold tram, but none of them relish th<-
cold shoulder. — Salem Sunheam.
A great many men are cottage-bui.t,
that is to say, they have but one story
And they are forever telling it.
Woman may be skilled in preserving
fruits, but It Is a difficult thing for her
to preserve silence.— Philadelphia Item
John M. Mauger, of Pottatown, I'a.,
who is eighty years of age, uses a razor
that has been in the family two hundred
years.
In the State of Ohio there are 23.36*
persons on the pension rolls, of whom
2,026 are widows of soldiers of the
war of 1812.
Beans are not very largely cultivated
in Russia, owing to the irreconcilable
aversion that exists there to the Poles.—
CinciwuUi Time*.
Corsets are said to have originated
from an iron waistband, in which ty
rannical husbands in early history of the
human family encased their wives.
No matter how poor people are. nearly
every one can afford to keep a pair of
horses—one for clothes and the other
(or wood.— Baltimore Every Saturday.
Dan Mace can tell almost to the frac
tion of a second how last he drives a
horse, without consulting a watch, and
some other drivers have the same
faculty.
The oldest living ex-member of Con
gress is John A. Cuthbert, of Mobiie,
Ala., who was bom in Georgia in 177*.
He practices law in Mobile, and is said
to be still hale and hearty.
The American "professional beauties"
wbese movements are now so closely
followed by London "soeiety" journals,
are Mrs. Cropper. Mrs. Mahlon Sands.
Miss Parsons and Lady Maudeville.
" I think I'll cut across the heids."
said a city belle, who was visiting her
country cousin—"the wether permit
ting,'' she added, as she observed a
demonstrative sheep of the masculine
persuasion.
"In the hour at danger woman
thinr.s least of herself,said Mme. do
Stael. True! When the thunder roars
and the vivid lightning flashes, and the
big drops come down, the woman who
is caught out in the storm devote* her
agony to the thought that her hat and
dress will be ruined.
Fashionable Galveston young lady
at a social gathering remarks jesting.y
to Gilhooly: " I wonder how much I
would bring if I was put up at auction
and sold to the highest bidderP" "Just
about $3,000." " Why, my jewelry alone
is worth that." "Yes; that's what I
put it down in my estimnte."- OatvesUm
News.
An eccentric Englishman, long a resi
dent t Paris, has just (committed sui
cide, alter having devoted twenty years
to a strange mania. Every six months
he bad a coffin made for himself. Each
was too long, 100 short, or uncomfort
able in some way. until the last proved
perfect Having no 'further object in
ife, he killed himself.
A Toronto patent-medicine man re
cently ruined the sale'of his " Pulmonic
Balsam" by publishing a testimonial
from a man who asserted that his wife
who had not been able to speak above a
whisper for five years, had her voice
completely restored by the use of one
bottle. When the Toronto man real*
iied the effect of the publication, he
wrung his hands and said: " Jta enemy
hath done this thing."
On the slopes of Amethyst mountain,
or the Yellowstone park, are exposed at
different levels a large number of silici*
fled trees, many being rooted In the
position in which they grew, and from
twenty to thirty fret in height. Some
lying down art of immense siae. The
■cries of sandstone and conglomerates
in which tfrt trees art imbedded is more
than 6,000 feet thick, forming a vertical
mile of fossil forests. The woody
structure is well preserved. Where
cavities have formed by the rotting of
the wood, they are filled with crystals of
amethyst and quarts.