Midnight, June 80, 1879.
i.
Midnight—in no midsummer luno
Tho breakers lush the shores;
The cuckoo of a joyless June
Is calling out-of-doors.
And thou hast vanish'd from thine own
To that whioh looks like rest,
True brother, only to lie known
By those who] love thee best.
11.
Midnight—and joyless June gone by,
And lrom the deluged park
The cuckoo oi a worse July
Is calling thro' the dark.
But thou art silent underground,
And o'er thee]streams tho rain,
True poet, surely to be found
When truth is found again.
hi.
And now to these unsummer'd skies,
Tho summer bird is still,
Far oil a phantom cuckoo cries
From out a phantom hill;
And thro' this midnight breaks the sun
Oi sixty years away,
The light oi days when life begun,
The days that seem to-day,
When all my griefs were shared with
thee,
And all my hopes were thine—
As all thou wert was one with me,
May all thou art be mine!
-Alfred Tetiiiyton, in Harper't Magazine.
NEEDLE AND THREAD.
"An old bachelor?" said Honora
Maywood.
"That's what he told me, just in so
many words," said Mrs. Pennypacker,
who stood on tbe threshold of her test
room, witli her bead tied up in a pocket
handkerchief and a hair-broom in her
banu wherewith she gesticulated, after
a tregic fashion, as she talked, while
Miss Maywood, tall and slender ns a
wild lily, stood in tbe ball, with a roll of
music u ider her arm, and her slight
figure w! ipped in a shabby black shawl.
"And b's willing to pay my price,
cash down, every Saturday night.
Never u" ■ rnpted to beat down a penny,
if you v :i believe it. my dear."
" Why should he?" said Honora.
"Most people do, my dear,"said Mrs.
Pennypacker. " A wrinkled old widow
like n.e, who han'her living to earn, is
mostly fair game for everybody. A real
gentleman, my dear—every inch of him.
But he's a little particular, I'm afraid."
" I suppose most bachelors are," said
Miss Maywood, smiling.
" Yes, my dear—yes!" nodded Mrs.
Pennypacker. " But this gentleman is
beyond the average, I think."
" And if he is?"
"Nothing," says Mis. Pennypacker,
making a;dab with her broom-handle at
a stray mothmiller, which was flutter
ing blindly against tbe'garnet damask
window curtains—" nothing except that
one don't quite know where to have
him. He drinks old English breakfast
tea, and lie wants his pie-crust made
with the best Aldcrney butter, instead
of lard as is good enough for other peo
ple; and be must have ventilators to all
the windows, and an open grate instead
of the base-burning stove; and— I hope
you'll not by offended, my dear—but he
particularly disiikca.'a piano."
"Dislikes] a' piano!" said the little
music-teacher, reddening in spite of
h< rself.
" And he says, says lie, 4 1 hope there's
no piano in the bouse. 4 A piano,' nays
* he, 4 plays the deuce with my nervous
system, with its everlasting turn turn!
These were his very words, my dear.
So I courtesys, and says I, ' You will
not be troubled] with one Ihere, sir.
And so, my dear, I'll be grateful if you
. won't mind doin' your ]practicin' until
he's out for his daily walk; from one to
three. jußt as regular as the clock."
"Miss Raymond looked up pitcously
in the old landlady's face.
"I will do anything to oblige you,
Mrs. Pennypacker," she said, earnestly.
'* I haven't forgotten .how much I am
indebted to you, both in actual money
and in kindness, which money can
never repay."
And the soft bluo eyes filled with
tears as she spoke.
"My dear, don't say a word," said
Mrs. Pennypacker, hastily. "You've
been sick, and you've got a little be
hindhand, and its quite natural you
■bould be a little low-spirited now
then. But you mustn't get discour
aged. Things will look up after a wbi le
And you're quite welcome to stay here
until you are able to settle up your little
account."
Honora Maywood sighed, ns she
remembered how' often her little ad
vertisement had been inserted in the
daily newspapers, without attracting
the least notice from the world of pa
trons and pupils. There were so many
capable music teachers, willing to give
essons at moderate prices, nowadays,
and how was any one to know how
sorely she needed the money P
And as tbe time crept on, and on
upi Is came, Honora]begnn seriously to
k herself whether she could go out in
some menial capacity, or stay genteelly
at home and starve.
•'Clothes, ma'am!"
Honora started from her reverie, as
the washwoman's stumpy little girl
banged herself, like a human battering
vain, up against the door, with a
preposterously large bsakctjon her arm.
"Tea," said Ilonora, coloring. "Put
them down, Sally. But I—l'm afraid it
isn't convenient to pay your mother to
day."
"Mother didn't say nothing 'bout the
pay," said Sally, wiping her forehead
with a whisk of her arm and sniffing
herself well-nigh off' her feet. 4 'l was
to leave the clothes] with her 'umble
duty and she 'oped they'd suit; but it
was that damp and muggy on Monday
and Tuesday, as starch wouldn't stick,
and she 'opes you'll excuse all mistakes
as they shall be done better next time."
" I dare say they are quite right," said
Honora, with a little sigh, as she mar
veled at this unexpected excess of court
osy on the part of her laundress.
But when Sally had stumped off'down
stairs, her flapping slippers beating
sort of tattoo as she went, and Miss May
wood took of!' the fringed towel that cov
ered the basket of clothes, she gave a
little start.
"Shirts," said Honora, "and sock
and turn over collars, No. 16, and greau
big pocket-handkerchiefs, like the sails
of u ship, and white vests, and—good
ness me! what does it all meanP Mrs.
Mulvey has sent me some gentleman's
wardrobe by mistake. 1 must send
these back at once."
But then Miss Maywood looked down
at the articles in grave consideration.
" I never had a brother." mused Miss
Maywood; "and I can't remember my
father; liut of this I am quite certain—
if I had either one or the other I should
hank any girl to mend their dilapidated
wardrobes if they looked like this. And
Mrs. Mulvey can't send before nights
and unfortunately I've nothing to do, so
I'll just mend this poor fellow's clothes
whoever he may be. A half-starved
theological student perhaps, training for
the Polynesian islands, or perhaps a
newspaper reporter, or a pale clerk under
the dazzling skylights of some dry goods
palace. At all events he's worse off than
I am, for lie can't mend his own clothes,
and I can."
And the smiles dimpled around Hon
ora May wood's little rosebud of a mouth, i
as she sat down to darn holes, sow on
tape, and insert patches.
"He'll never know who did it," said
Honora to herself; "but I dare say
he will be thankful; and if one gets a
chance to do a little good in this way,
one ought not to grudge one's time and
trouble."
But as Honora slitched away, she
mused sadly whether or not she ought
to accept a position which had offered
itself of assistant matron in an orphan
asylum, where the work would be most
unendurable, and the pay next to noth
ing. with no Sundays or holidays, and
a ladies' committee, consisting of three
starched old maids, to " sit" upon her
the first Friday of every month.
" 1 almost think I'd rather starve,"
thought Honora. " But, dear me!
starving is a serious business when one
comes to consider it face to face."
Sally Mulvey came back, puffing and
blowing like a human whale, in about
two hours.
" Mother says she's sent the wrong
basket," said she, breathlessly.
"I thought it very probable, Sally,"
said Miss Maywood.
"And mother's compliments," added
Sally, "and she can't undertake your
things no longer. Miss Maywood, 'cause
she does cash business, and there ain't
nothing been paid on your account since
last .June."
Honora felt herself growing scarlet.
" 1 am very sorry, Sally"' said she.
"Tell your mother I will settle my bill
assoon as I possibly can."
Sally flounced out of tbe room, red
and indignant, like an overcharged
thunder-cloud, and poor little Honora,
dropping her hands, burst into tears.
• • • • • • •
"Pretty girl that—very pretty," said
Mr. Brodcrick, the old bachelor, to his
landlady.
" I)o you mean—"
" I mean the young lady-boarder of
yours that I see on the] stairs now and
then," said Mr. Broderick. " Nice
figure—big, soft eyes, like a gazelle.
Did some one tell me she was a music
teacher?"
"That's her profession," said Mrs.
Pennypacker. " But there ain't many
pupils as wants tuition, and poor little
dear, she has a hard t ! me of it."
"Humph!" grunted Mr. Broderick.
" What fools women are not to have
some regular profession! If I had a
daughter I'd. bring her up a self-sup
porting institution."
And Mr. Broderick disappeared into
his room, in the midst'whereof stood a
girl with flapping slippers, a portentous
shawl and a bonnet which had originally
been manufactured for a woman twice
her size.
"Who are youP" Remanded Mr
Broderick.
"Please, sir, I'm Bally—the washer
woman's Sally," was the response.
" And what do you want ;here?" said
Mr. Broderick.
" Please, sir, I've come to bring your
things," said Sally, chattering off her
lesson like a parrot. " And please sir,
her 'umble duty, and 'opesjtliey'll suit,
but it was 'damp ,and muggy Monday
and Tuesday, 'and starch wouldn't
stick; and she 'opes you'll excuso all
mistake;, as they shall be done better
next time, sir—please, sir."
"Who mended, themP" demanded
Mr. Broderick, whose hawk-eye had
already caught sight of the dainty
needlework on his garments.
"Nobody mended 'em," said Bally,
" and mother says it's easy to see as the
new gent is a bachelor, on account of
the holes in his heels and toes, and the
strings off his dickeys."
" I can tell who mended 'em," said
Mr. Pennypacker, " for I see her at it,
the pretty dear—Miss [Muywood. And
says she, • I don't know whose they aro,
Mrs. Pennypacker; but,'says she,'they
need mending—and a kind action never
comes amiss.' No more fit docs, sir,
Ixird bless her!"
"Humph!" said Mr. Broderiek; "she's
right—no more it docs. And she is a
regular little scientist at the needle, is
Miss May wood. Just look at that
patch, Mrs. Pennypacker! Euclid's
geometry could not produce a straighlcr
line or truer angles. See the toe of that
el ng! It's liken piece of Gobelin
tapestry. That's the way I like to have
things done!"
And Mr. Broderiek never rested until
he had been formally introduced to
Honora May wood, and had thanked her
with cquaQformality for the good ser
vices she had unwittingly rendered him.
It was a golden October evening that
Honora came down into the kitchen
where Mrs. Pennypacker was baking
pies for her eccentric boarder, with the
crusts made of the best Alderney butter
instead of lard.
"Oh, dear! oh, dear!" said Mrs.
Pennypacker; " what a thing it is to be
an old bachelor."
"He won't be an old bachelor much
longer," said Honora, laughing and
coloring, as she laid her cheek on the
trood landlady's cushioning shoulder.
"What do you mean'" said Mrs.
Pennypacker.
" He has asked me to marry him,"
aid Honora, " after only two weeks'
acquaintance. He says that a girl who
can mend stockings as I do needs no
ithertest. And he says he loves me;
nd—and— "
"Well?"
" I almost think I love him!" whis
pered Miss May wood.
How the Infanta of Spain was
Christened.
A foreign correspondent of a New
York paper writes: The wife of a
diplomat told me how the new born
infanta came to receive the name of
Mercedes. King Alfonso wished her to
be so called. He was overruled, 'be
cause Queen Isabella is on bad terms
with the Montpensier family, and was
on worse terms with them during the
triumph of Dona Mercedes. The list of
names was to have opened with " Maria
Isabella .Jacintn." Queen Isabella has
repented bitterly of the uncharitable
pirit which she harbored against her
first daughter-in-law, and has done
penance to expiate it. She felt that she
ought to make a still greater sacrifice.
As god mother, she was asked to name
the infanta, which she carried in her
arms with maternal pride to the font.
Instead of saying " Maria Isabel," etc.,
•he said: " Maria de las Mercedes Isa
bel Theresa." In a letter ti the Tempt,
from its Madrid correspondent, it is
stated on the authority of an official
present, that the king was moved to
tears when he carried his iittie daughter
into the room where the great dign
taries of the state and the ambassadors
were waiting to see her. The new
born babe was in a gold basket—an
heirloom of the Spanish monarchy—
and lying on a silken cushion, quite
naked. A gauze veil was thrown over
the babe, who was perfectly tranquil
and coiled up. Each witness lifted the
gauze covering. The king was not able
to speak, and hurried back to the queen's
room with his precious charge directly
the ancient—and, to an affectionate
father, trying—ceremonial was at an
end. Queen Isabella ordered the bap
tismal snit in London, at the baby linen
warehouse patronized by the royal
ladies of the English court. It was of
white satin and Honiton lace, and a
Honiton lace veil, and was very costly.
The ladies at the christening were in
trains and low-bodied dresses, and
crowded on their finest jewels.
Pay the Piper.
Although the story of the " Piper of
Hamclin" is well known to many per
sons, perhaps some of our young friends
are not familiar with the tale.
Many hundred years ago, the good
people of this German village could
have no rest, on account of a host of rats
that overran this little country town.
One day there appeared a strange man
among them, who offered, for Ave hun
dred guilders, to rid them of the rats.
The people accepted his proposal.
Then the man began to pipe. In
stantly. thousands of rats came out of
their haunts and followed the piper,
who led them to the river, where they
were drowned.
As soon as the pest was removed the
villagers refused to pay the piper, say
ing that he was a " wizard," and they
would not " encourage him." He went
away vowing vengeance on them, but
he returned one festive day, and played
a different tune. When the children of
the villagers heard the air which the
piper then played, they ran mer/lly after
him. He led them part way up a hill,
when suddenly a door opened in the
hillside. In went the piper and the chil
dren—troops of them. The door closed,
and Die dear little ones were never again
seen by their loving friends.
Now, children, this is not a true
story, but we believe the adage, "Al
ways remember to pay the piper" grew
ftom the sad experience of the people of
Hamclin.— Golden Rule.
An elderly person was approached by
an ngent for a cyclopedia. " I guess I
won't get one," said tbe elderly person,
and frankly added: "I know I could
never leant to ride one of the pesky
things."
A Woman of Grit.
A woman with [a will can make her
way in the American world. In Ulster
county, New York, there is a woman of
real grit who inherited fourteen years
ago a large estate, consisting principally
of farming property, heavily incum
bered with debt. It was the old home
stead, anil she could not bear the idea of
seeing it pass into the hands of strangers,
and was determined that it should not.
Although then only twenty-four years
old, and with no more practical knowl
edge of life than an ordinary country
lass, she assumed sole charge of the
estate, determined to clear it of debt.
Having an old mother sixty-two years
of age, a half sister, also helples rom
old age, the two orphan children of a
deceased brother, and a brother in the
las' stages of consumption to provide
for, tnis made her task doubly hard.
A little experience taught her that it
was impossible to support her large
family and keep up the interest arising
from the heavy indebtedness of the
estate from the resources of the farm.
She decided upon school teaching. She
was engaged to teach in her own neigh
borhood nt $8 per month, and her
salary in a short time was raised to S4O
per month. She has continued teaching
ever since, directing the work of her
farm, and during the summer vacations
going into the harvest field with the
farm hands to pitch on hay, rake, bind,
etc. She has earned from teaching
school over $3 500, paid off the debt of
the old homestead, and greatly improved
the property. She has been an exten
sive stock raiser. Ilcr wheat crop
averaged this year forty-two bushels to
die acre, the largest yield in the county.
A short time ago she learned that a
brother-in-law living in Pennsylvania
was in destitute circumstances. She
went to him and found him helpless
from an incurable disease, with a family
dependent upon him. " Ben," she said,
"what can Ido for you?" " Nothing.
Libbie," was the reply. "You have
your hands lull already. Wo will have
to go to the county house, I suppose."
" Never, Ben, as long as I live. Come
and enjoy the comforts of the old home
stead witli me. I will keep you and
your family as long as you live." She
says she has enough to do now without
having to support a husband too, which
she might have to do if she were
married.— New York Trihu e.
An English Opinion of the United States
Senate.
The American Senate was founded for
a treble purpose—to act as a check upon
hasty action of representatives, to con
tiol the executive authority of the
President, and to uphold the rights of
individual States belonging to the fed
eration ; in other words, to protect local
interests against undue encroachments
from the imperial power. The House
of Representatives was to represent the
Union; the Senate, the States composing
that Union. Senators hold their seats
for six years; Representatives only for
two. One-third of the Senate, bow
ever, is renewed every two years. Mr.
Gladstone has described the American
Constitution as a masterpiece of human
wisdom. Its framers certainly achieved
one signal success; they devised a second
chamber, at once popular "and efficient
for the purposes for which it was de
signed. The Senate has frequently
thwarted the action of the House of
Representatives; yet no cry has ever
been raised against its privileges, and
no American dreams of abolishing it
The same can hardly be said of any
senate in the old world.
The United States Senate may be
called the model upper h >uso. France
with all the political genius of her sons
has never been able to create an as
stinbly possessed of the like prestige and
popularity. The second republic con
tented itself with a single national as
sembly. Napoleon 111- re-established
a dual legislature, his senate being con
structed on the simplest of all possible
plans It consisted of 150 mem b
named for life by the emperor, at his
own discretion. Cardinals, marshals
and admirals were 'also ex-offieio sena
tors. As the pope confers the red hat,
the curious spectacle was then pre
sented of members of a national legisla
ture appointed by a foreign prince.—
hondon Daily News.
Gladstone's Readiness as an Uratoj.
Of the many anecdotes that are cur
rent illustrating his amazing power of
rising to an occasion, ono of many may
be given which has the merit of being
true. On the afternoon when he
was to make an important motion in the
house of commons, a friend, happening
location him between two and three
o'clock, found him just sitting down to
make some notes of the coming speech.
He laid aside his pen and talked for a
while, then jotted down a few heads on
paper, went down to the house before
four o'clock, found himself drawn into
a preliminary controversy of a very
trying nature, in which he had to repel
so many questions and attacks that it
was past six before he rose to make the
great speech. He then discovered that,
as he had left his eyeglasses at home, his
notes were practically useless, put them
quietly back into his coat pocket, and
delivered with no aid to his memory,
and upon that one hour's preparation, a
powerful argument interspersed with
passages of wonderful passion and
pHthos, which lasted for three hours,
and will always rank among k his finest
eflorts.— Bcribrur.
J. Ismderer has stated to the French
academy reasons for believing that the
materials of tbe moon's surface are anal
ogous to those of, the silicate.'rocks so
abundant on our globe.
How a JUan was I'rored a Pauper,
A writer in Fruser's Mu<j<izine on
" English Puuperism," alter explaining
that the Friendly societies of England
and Wales have a membership of 4,500.-
000 persons, relates this experience:
Some years ago I was traveling in a
third-class carriage in the south of Eng
land. I was alone in my compartment,
while the other one became nearly quite
filled up at one of the stations where we
stopped, by a number of builders'men.
One of these, who seemed not too sober,
shortly began to utter a volley of the
most horrible foul language. I called
I over to liim in a quiet way: "Neigh
bor, will you be kind enough to use
languagea little moredccent? for your's
is distressing for other people to hear."
He turned round to "tackle" his in
terlocutor, very indignant indeed that I
should venture to take liirn to task; and
his companions seemed to prick up their
ears in an amused and sympathetic in
terest. " I should like to know," lie
said, " what the wliatty what business
the likes of you hits to find fault with
the likes of me. I'm a free-born Eng
lishman, and I'll say just wuat I
choose."
" Well, but," I rejoined, " I'm a free
born Englishman, too, and I'm not
bound to listen to the foul language you
use, and I won't."
" Well, if you don't like my language,
what business have you here? I don't
see what right a gentleman has in a
third-class carriage."
"If you come to rights," I rejoined,
" you'll allow that if you clioose to take
a first-class ticket, you would have a
right to take a first-class' carriage? You
wouldn't stand mv telling the guard to
put you out, would you?"
" Certainly not," lie replied; " I'd just
like to sec him try."
" Then, surely, if I choose to spend
my moncv in a third-class ticket, I have
x right in a tbird-ciass carriage."
" Well, may be so; but then you must
take your chance of the conversation.
You're a gentleman, I suppose; and I
say again a gentleman has no business
in a third-class carriage."
A hum of applause followed this piece
of logic.
" My good fellow," I said, " you have
no right to call names."
"I didn't call you no names," he re
joined.
" You did," I said; " you called me a
gentleman. How dared you do it?"
"Well," said he, quite taken aback
"you're a parson, I suppose?"
" Yes," I replied; " but you called me
a gentleman. What do you know about
me—you who have never seen me in
your life before—to have the impudence
to call me such a name? But," I
added, "fair is fair. You have called
me a name that you can show no reason
for. Now, I will call yon a name and
give a reason for it, and your mates
shall judge between us, and if they say
I'm wrone I'll beg your pardon."
" All right, master, that's fair
enough," said one or two of his com
panions, and the rest sat watching us
with pricked-up cars.
" Well," I continued, " my free-born
Englishman, the name I call you is a
pauper. '
He jumped up, as it to scramble over
and strike me, and his comrades began
to look very furious. I jumped up, too,
to meet him, with a studied alacrity,
which, I rightly judged, would tend to
check his ardor, and crying out " Fair
play; I'm coming over to prove my
words," I sprang ncross into the one
vacant seat of the partition, among
them all, and faced my opponent.
. " My lad," I said to the man on my
right, " are you in a club?"
"Yes." he said, " the Foresters."
"And you?" I went on, to the man on
my left.
"Yee; I'm in the Amalgamated
Engineers."
"And you," I asked a third; "what
club are you in P"
"The Hand-in-Hand."
The fourth and pfth were Odd Fel
lows, and soon. As I happened to have
heard and noted their conversation
when I ertered the carriage, and had
gathered that they were all about to
make payments to their clubs, excep
my rhetorical friend, who had men
tioned having dropped off from his club
two years before, I came to him at last
" What club are you in?" I asked.
" I'm not in any," he replied.
" I suppose you've got some pounds in
the bank?"
The rest laughed, for they had
heard (as I had heard) him asking to
borrow from two or|lhrec of his com
panions.
" Not I," he answered gruffly; "I've
enough to do with all I earns."
"And if you break your [leg as you
gel out of this train to-day," I asked,
"where shall you be in a week's time?"
He hesitated.
" Come, my lads," I said,"where will
he bef"
" In the workhouse, of .course," they
answered.
"Then, am I [right or wrongP" I re
joined ; "is he a pauper or notP You are
all providing yourselves against sick
ness, and you are independent; but he
ll jis depending on the rates, upon me
and upon you, and ho is a pauper,
nothing more nqr less. Need I beg his
pardon for calling him by a wrong
nameP"
They agreed, as I they would,
that I was justified in my epithet, and
the little encounter gave me an oppor
tunity of a very pleasant conversation
with these worthy fellows. They clus
tered round me like bees, and began to
Question me very busily and anxiously
about their own Insurances.
" Mir," said "ne poor lellow, as he
shook my hand, "I'm sure we're all
thankful that it wan a gentleman in our
third-class carriage, that wasn't ashamed
to talk to us poor fellows for our good;
and you've told us a lot to rriak" us
think about; and God knows none of
us wants to be a pauper."
I'nper Milking Industries In China.
The commissioner of customs at Wuhu
(China), in a report recently issued,
states that paper is very extensively
manufactured in the numerous litt.e
villages situated in the valleys among
the hills, about eight miles to the south
east of the city of Kinghien. It is made
from the bark called T'an-shu-p'i the
paper-mulberry tree bark, and wheat
trnvv. which after having been well
washed and boiled with a certain pro
portion of lime, is again washed, and
then exposed to dry for a who'e year on
the sides of the hills, in spots where the
grass and brushwood have been pre
viously cleared away for this purpose.
After the year's exposure it is washed
once more, and then pounded on a stone
with a large wooden hammer; it is sup
posed to require 1,400 blows from this
hammer to reduce it to the necessary
consistency; after which it is removed to
another building, and left to soak until
it becomes quite a puip in a large earthen
ware vessel, containing a liquid glue
made from 'toiling the branch of a tree
called the Yangkowt'eng, a species of
hooked vine. This pulp is then put into
a cistern of water, and well stirred up
with a stout stick- A finely-made
bamboo frame, or sort of long oblong
siev \ is taken by two men, one at either
end, and dipped twice into this liquid,
which is made to run equally over the
whole surface, somewhat after the man
er in which the photographer allows
the developing solution to run over his
plate. By this means a thin and toler
ably even layer is left, which soon par
tially dries and forms the sheet of papers
and which is removed by mis rpiy
versing tfie frame. As soon as a suf
ficient number of sheets has been made,
they are taktn to the drying room
This room contains a large brick oven,
coated on the outside with lime, and
built up to within a few feet of the roof.
Upon the lop of this oven the paper is
placed, in parcels of about a foot in
thickness, until perfectly dry; after
which sheet by sheet is damped once
more, and while still moist is by means
of a soft brush made to adhere to the
sides of the oven for a short time to un
dergo its final process of drying. It is
tfien taken away to Ihe packing room
and made up into bales, weighing from
80 to 120 catties each, the catty being
equivalent to one and one-third pound
avoirdupois. The iargt st sized paper is
about one "chang"(ll| feet) long, and is
worth one dollar a sheet. This par
ticular size of paper is made entirely
from the "T'an-shu-p'i," but the smaller
sizes are composed of a mixture of the
above-mentioned bark, or the bark of
the paper-mulberry tree and wheat
straw. This paper is known by the
name " Suanchih,'' and is considered a
good quality paper in the Chinese
markets.
Just What the Mule Would Say.
A correspondent of the Philadelphia
Time* tells this anecdote of oue of the
officers of " the old army." The scene
is laid in Mexico, during the Mexican
war:
Twiggs belonged to the " army of in -
vasion" —that is, he was on Taylor's
line in the beginning of the war.
One day when a long train of wagons
was toiling up a steep hill at Camargo,
and the mules were straining their ut
most on the traces, he noticed a teamster
who was carelessly walking beside his
animals carrying in his hand a small
switch, while the rest of the drivers
were furiously cracking their whip.
AsTwigvseyed the luckless man his
ire was raised, and he launched a tor
rent of abuse upon him.
The teamster, aroused to his peril,
and hoping to atone for his supineness,
stooped down, and, picking up a stone,
hurled it at his mules, striking one of
them.
In an instant Twiggs was off his horse,
and, grasping a stone, took deliberate
aim and sent it flying through the air,
striking the teamster fairly in the back.
The man threw up his arms with an
"Oh!" as he looked behind him and
saw the general.
"Just what the mule would say, my
man, it he could speak," remarked
Twiggs, coolly, as he mounted his horse
and rode away.
IMd II With a Toothpick.
The lion forbore to set toot on the
mouse and the grateful little anima
chewed asunder the meshes of the net
that held captive the king of beasts.
This ancient historical fable teaches us
not to despise small things. Pilsgerald,
a condemned criminal, bad a harmless
looking toothpick in his mouth. He was
taking a little pleasure excursion per
railroad with the sheriff toward State
prison, in New Jersey. With the in
offensive toothpick he picked the lock of
his handcuffs, jumped from the train
and escaped.
The discovery of phosphorescent
todies has been traced back to the year
1609, when a cobbler of Bologna, pur
suing the philosopher's atone, iound a
very heavy mineral, which, after being
heated with charcoal, became luminous
in the dark. The mineral with which
lb" Bologna cobbler attained so remark
able a result was barium sulphate,
which, by the operation in the crucible,
was changed to ta-ium sulphide, one of
the mott pho phorcicent substances
known.