Between the ttreen Corn and the Cold,
Between the green oorn anil the gold,
Between the dawning and the noon,
love, that at first was pale and cold,
Waxed ruddy with the summer moon;
And hearts beat high and lips grew bold
Between the green oorn and tho gold.
The primrose, precious key ot spring,
Unlocked the casket ot the year;
The flowers flew forth on rainbow wing
O'er hill and mead and mere,
To woo tho new year like the old,
Between the green corn and tho gold.
Between the gold corn and the green,
Between the midday and tho dawn,
The snmmer woods have lost their sheen,
The flowers haro withered on the lawn;
And love lies dead where love hath Itcen,
Between the gold corn and the green.
Lovo is not dead; he cannot die,
Although his eyes be veiled with pain;
The woods shall waken hy-and-bye,
The flowers shall blossom once again;
And we—shall we not wake, my queen,
Between the gold com and thegreonT
SAVED BY A RING.
Twelve months ago last November
I ran down into Warwickdale, England,
to spend a few days with my cousin
Horace Mason. Immediately after mv
arrival I was escorted up to my room,
and then down to the drawing-room,
where I found Mrs. Patton, Horace's
lady housekeeper—his duenna, as he
wna wont to call her—and Mr. Fitz
patrick, the rector of the parish. Mrs.
Patton I knew well. She was a most
amusing compound of dignity and
jollity, and we were the best friends in
the world, though she always declared
that I did nothing but make fun of her.
Mr. Fitzpatrick I never had seen before;
For during my previous visits ho had
always happened to be from home. He
was a tall, portly, elderly gentleman,
with a rather florid complexion, and a
magnificent head of perfectly white hair,
the effect of which was increased by a
pair of bushy and perfectly black eye
brows. He greeted me very cordially;
and as soon as we were seated at the
dinner-table, I discovered that his forte
was conversation and his foible mono
logue. I have heard some good steady
talkers in my time; but I am prepared
to back Mr. Fitzpatrick against any of
them
I had noticed during dinner that, as is
the habit of some widowers, he wore a
wedding ring, which had piesumably
been his wife's; and over this another
ring, of the kind usually worn by ladies,
in which set three very handsome btii
liants. After dinner Mrs. Patton had
retired, the conversation somehow or
other took a turn in the direction of
precious stones, and Horace, who at Inst
managed to get in a word or te>o, said
aomethijg about the difficulty of distin
guishing. in the absence of tests, a true
stone from a really well executed imita
tion. and took from his waistcoat pocket
a manufactured diamond which I cer
tainly should have pronounced genuine.
For purposes of comparison, Mr. Fitz
patrick slipped from his finger the ring
of which I have just spoken; and after
it had been examined and replaced, he
said: "There is a curious story connect
ed with that ring, Mr. Mason, I dare say
you have heard it?"
" I've heard something about it," said
Horace, " but I don't know all the par
ticulars; and I don't think my cousin
has heard anything of it."
" Well, then," said Mr. Fitzpatrick.
" I may as well tell it to you, if you care
to hear it. The story begins and ends a
long time ago. It is forty years this
very month since I became enraged to
be married. I was then a curate, and
had not much money to spare; but I
had just received a legacy of rather less
than a hundred pounds, and, in a fit
of extravagance, hardly excusable even
in a lover of five-and-twenty, I spent
the whole of it and a few pounds more
in purchasing a ring for my future wife.
We expected the engagement to he a
long one; but the rector of his parish
died suddenly, and my grrat uncle, in
whose gift the living was, presented me
to it. The rector's death took place in
February. I read myself in on Easter
Sunday; and on the first ot June we
were married. I suppose every newly
married husband and wife think them
selves the happiest people in the world;
but I honestly believe that we really
were so. We had not only each other,
but that we had everything else that we
oould possibly desire—a larger income
tbas we needed, work that was thor
oughly congenial to both of us, a few
real friends, a number of pleasant ac
quaintances, and an utter freedom from
all anxiety.
"This unalloyed happiness lasted for
six months, when my wife's health
(ailed in a mysterious manner. She be
gan to be subject to strange fits of lan
guor, physical depression and drowsi
ness, which gradually became longer
and more frequent. I bad advice at
once; but the doctors seemed completely
at sea. The organs, they said, were
perfectly sound; and though the action
of the heart was not quite so strong as it
ought to be. there was absolutely noth
ing to account for the symptoms. At
all Jsveuts they could pnly recommend
tonii s, gentle open air exercise, and an
occasional stimulant. In spite of them
all, however, my wife grew worse and
worse. At last she took to her bed;
and she had not been la bed a week
when one evonlng I left her, apparently
much the same a usual. and went into
my study to spend a couple of hours
over my next Sunday morning's ser
mon. I had been downstairs only
about tlnee-qunrters ot an hour, when
my wife's sister, who had been sitting
with her during my absence, burst into
the room and threw herself upon me,
exclaiming: 'Oh, Jamest she's deadt
Our darling Kate's dead!'
" You can imagine the shock she gave
me; but it never occurred to mo to im
agine that what she said was really true.
I thought nothing but that the strain of
anxiety had been too much for the poor
girl, and that she had temporarily lost
her reason. I did my best to calm
her; and soon succeeded, for she began
to talk ro lucidly that I was compelled
not only to listen but to heed. She said
that she and one of the servants had
been watching my wife, who was appa
rently sleeping peacefully, when they
hatl both been startled by a peculiar
change in her countenance. They
listened for the sound of tier breathing,
but heard nothing. They had then
held a hand-mirror to her mouth, but it
remained unclouded. They had felt for
the pulsation of her heart, but it had
ceased to beat, and her body was deathly
cold. The servant had gone to tell one
of the men to saddle a horse and ride
for the nearest doctor, while she had
come to tell the terrible news and be
calm. Calm was out of the question.
I tore myself away and rushed upstairs.
They were idiots—they were demented;
nut still there was a haunting fear which
I must dispel myself. And yet I was so
sure that my wife could not be dead
that I summoned sufficient presence of
mind to open the door gently and walk
softly to the bed. I leaned over it, and
said, not loudly, but distinctly: " Kate,
darling, are you asleep?"
" Hut before I had spoken the last
word I was convinced. I had seen death
often and was sure that I knew it too
well not to recognize it at a glance. I
now shrieked instead of whispering,
but there was no answer, and I flung
myself full length upon the bed in voice
less agony. I must have become almost
or entirely unconcious, for I never
knew of the doctor's presence in tiie
room until I felt his hand upon my
arm. He said:
"My dear Mr. Fitzpatrick, you must
try and bear it like a man and a Chris
tian, for your wife is dead; she has
been dead more than an hour."
" How I felt I cannot tell you. I was
prostrate with grief; and prostrate I
remained for three days. The necessary
preparations for the funeral were made
by my wife's brother, and I really v.- <
unaware of what had been done. On
the evening ot the third day I heard
stealthy footsteps ascending the stairs,
and I felt rather than knew that they
were footsteps of the men who had come
to close up the coffin. I heard the door
open; then for a few minutes there was
silence; and then I heard other and
lighter footsteps descending, followed
by a tap at the study door. I said:
4 Come in,' and when the do r opened I
saw at once that it was an old nurse of
my wife's, who had come to see her
living, and had found her dead. 'lf
you please, sir,' she said, giving my
wife the old familiar name, 'they can
not get the rings off Miss Kate's finger,
and they want to know what they
must do."'
" I had been apathetic; but in a mo
ment I was enraged, and I shouted:
' them on!' in tones which uinde
the poor woman beat a terrified retreat.
I was comp.etely unnerved by what
seemed an outrage upon the remains that
were so dear and sacred to me; but I
could not move to make a more effectual
protest, and 1 soon sank into the lethargy
from which I had been aroused. The
night passed, as the preceding nights
had passed, sleeplersly and wearily. I
rose at dawn, and sat in the study until
noon, when they came to tell me that
the time for the funeral had come, and
that I must follow my wife to her last
homo,"
"You won't know the rectory well,
Mr. Browne," said Mr. Pitzpa-rick, ad
dressing himself directly to me; "but
you must have passed it. The front
door, as you will remember, opens to
the turnpike road; but there is also an
other door with two glass panels whieb
open directly into the churchyard. My
wife was in the habit of using this door
very frequently; for there ran from it a
path which crossed the churchyard
and ended in astyle.wbich was just oppo
site the gates of the grange, then rented by
the liardings, who were her oldest
friends. When she had returned ami
found the door fastened, which some
times happened, she had been used to
let me know she was there by a peculiar
tap, and I had always gone to let her In.
It was out of this door—which some
how seemed to belong to her, and out
of which she had often tripped so gayiy,
that I followed her corpse; and as it was
closed gently behind me I think I fully
realized for the first time what a
changed thing my life must henceforth
be. The service was gone through; I
henrd the clods fall upon the coffin, and
returned to the house that was now so
awfully solitary. The vicar of the next
pariah, who had performed the last sad
oflhxsfor my wife, returned with me,
and tried his beat to bring mc to myself,
but I refused to be comforted. At last
he left me, and I was glad to be alone,
for in solitudei could feel my wile was
somewhere dear me.
"They brought me food; but I oould
eat nothing. The hours passed slowly;
out I took no note of them, f did not
even know it wis even dark until one of
the maids came and asked If she should
light the lamp. I let iier do it, and
then mechnnically took n hook down
Imm the shelf and tried to read. It was
only a mockery of reading, but it acted
as a sort of narcotic, and I had dropped
into a doze, when I wo* aroused by a
knocking at my door, sharp and decisive,
as if the person knocking was not ask
ing but demanding entrance. Just as
the knock came, the clock struck twelve,
and I knew that i must have been sleep
ing f< r nearly three hours. 1 got up from
my chair, opened the door, and inquired
what was wanted of me. Standing in
the lighted hail were three indoor ser
vants and the old nurse, and the faces of
all were absolutely blanched with terror.
One of the girls, in an agony of fright,
caught hold of my sleeve and pointed
out: 'Oh, sir, do come!'
"I shook her off somowlmt roughly
and,addressingthenurse,said: 'What's
the meaning of all thisP'
"She was clearly as frightened as ttie
others, hut more self-possessed, and she
replied: 'lf you please, sir, Jane and
Margaret say that their mistress Is
standing at the side door, tapping on
the gloss; and that they will leave the
house if you do not come and see.'
"I called them fools and bade them
go to bed; but they crowded behind me
as I hastily crossed the hall and strode
down the short corridor to the side door.
I approached the door; and I must con
fess that my blood ran cold as I dis
tinctly heard the well-known tap, and
thought ( saw something white behind
the glass panels. I turned my eyes to
the bolt, which I drew bock and flung
the door wide open. If 1 were to live
for a mil'onniuni I could never forget
the sight I saw then. There stood my
wife, with bright open eyes, a flushed
face, disheveled hair, and her night
dress stained with large patches of
blood
"'James,'she said, 'don't be fright
ened, it is I.' She may have said more;
but this was all I heard. They told me
tliat I gasped, 'Kate, my Kate!'and fell
down senseless.
" When I recovered consciousness I
found myself in bed. My wi£c, dressed
as she used to be dressed, was sitting by
my side; nnd I looked around and won
dered whether I had lx*en wakened from
some horrible nightmare. At last the
reality of the events of the past few
days came bark to me—my wife's illness,
hor death, her strange return from the
world of spirits. When I summoned
strength for the task I asked what it all
meant, and though she could tell but
little, that little was enough to solve the
mystery. She said she had felt as if she
were being rather roughly awakened
from sleep; and that when she became
thoroughly aroused, she found she was
sitting up in an open coffin at the bottom
of a grave, with the blood running
quickly from a deep cut in her ring
ting'r. The grave was shallow, and she
had managed to climb out. when she
discovered that she was not twenty
yards from the door by which she was
accustomed to i enter the house. She
made her way to it; and we knew the
rest.
" It had been a curious case of trance,
catalpsy, or whatever name men of
science may give to those inexplicable
simulations of death in which ail the
functions seem to be arrested while the
vital principle remains intact. She had
been restored to conscious animation by
the cut given to her fingpr by the ruffian
whose cupidity had tempted him to a
deed from wliicli many a hardy scoun
drel wouid have shrunk. The perpe
trator was of course one of the under
taker's men, wtio bed been struck by
the glitter of the gems in the diamond
ring; and who, to obtain it, did not
hrsitate to violate the sanctity of the
grave, and even to mutilate a coipse."
"Goxl heavens!" I exclaimed, " what
nn overpowering story. Was the rascal
ever caught!"
"No; he disappeared, and nothing
was heard of him."
" Anu your wife! What effect had it
on her !"
" Curiously enough.her general health
became better from that dreadful day;
but I think her nervous system must
have received a permanent strain, for she
entirely lost the physical courage which
she had possessed in an extraordinary
degree for a woman, and about two
years afterward she became aubject to
attacka of asthma, which is. I believe,
a complaint that often has its origin in
some nervous shock. She lived, how
ever, to be over fifty, and was bright
nnd cheerful to the lost, though she had
been a confirmed invalid for five years
before her death."
Atlantic Cables.
The lengths of the several cables be
tween the United States and Europe and
their locations arc given as follows:
The three Anglo-American cables now
in use run from Irelard to Newfound
laud, 1.*50 miles, and from Newfound
land to Sidney, over 300 miles—a total
distanceof about 8,150 miles each; tht
Anglo-French rable from Brest to
Dux bury, byway of St. Pierre, is about
3,390 miles long; tbo Direct United
States cable from Ireland toTorhay, and
from Tor hay to Rye Beach. 9,3(10 miles;
and the new French cable from Brest to
Louisburg, 9.430 miles, from St. Pierre
to Cape Cod. BHO miles, and from Brest
to Prasance, 151 miles—a total length
of about 3,401 miles.
Preparations are being made for lay
ing two new cables to be operated in
connection with the land lines of the
American Union Telegraph company.
They will connect with the land lines at
Cape Breton, about 9,400 miles long.
"The best imported gloves made
here," wasn't s very bad sign; that is,
morally.
Mourning Costumes.
There are extensive mounting go< d*
depnrtmenta in all of the large retail dry
g(>ods houses, but it is said that there is
not, and lias never been, but one store
in New York'that deals exclusively in
mourning goods. The filling of orders
witli promptness is rendered possible by
the keeping in stock of ready-mode suits
capable of being altered to suit the
measurements that may lie received.
Often families at a distance from New
York send lor goods, and though their
faces are unknown to the dealers, their
names are as familiar as the faces of
their New York customers. This is
particularly the case where the family
lias a large kinship. Heady-made suits
in stock cost from #19.50 to #IOO apiece.
The cost of an entire mourning outfit is
frequently as high as #350. Outfits for
four ladies in one family, recently filled,
were paid for with a check for 91.400.
A complete outfit consists of the follow
ing articles: A suit, veil, clonk, bon
net, handkerchiefs and gloves. Cloaks
cost from #5 up to 9100, and bonnets
from #5 up to #25.
Dresses are trimmed with crape for
deep mourning, and sometimes the dress
itself is made of crape. Even outside
garments such as sacks and dolmans
are mode of crape. They are usually
made of the same material as the dress
is made of. There has been no decided
change in styles since last year. The
shapes of mourning bonnets have fol
lowed the shapes of bonnets in colors.
The trimmings are the same in style as
they were last year. Ixing crape veils
are worn a great deal. They vaiy in
length warding to the depth of the
mourning. Though some ladies begin
to lighten their mourning after the lapse
of one year, it is considered the proper
thing, dealers say, to wear deep mourn
ing two years before the light* ning pro.
cess is begun.
The family must be poor indeed whose
femnlo member* do no. go into some de
gree of mourning after death has en
tered. The ordinrj-y recourse is to bor
row mourning ciothes for the funeral.
In a large numer of cases the family has
some branch Hint is better to do than
itself. On such relatives, no matter
what quarrels fiave kept them away be
fore, the duty is paramount to lend
mourning goods for the funeral. If the
dresses cannot be obtained in this way
there is a good chance that some of the
neighbors will accommodate them. A
death, iike a birth, affords an occasion
when women put aside nc ighborly quar
rels, and a proffer of mourning gar
ments is often made by a prsonai
enemy. The styles of these garqynta
ore such as they may happen to be.
After the funeral the clothes are re
turned. but they are in many cases bor
rowed again for special occasions, as.
for example, when the mourners attend
rhurch for a Sunday or two after the
funeral. As time goes by and new
clothing is to be purchased, black is
chosen instead of colors. Block is dur
nh.e, and therefore cheap. Poor women
of middte age, or past it, often continue
to wear black beyond the time of
mourning for economical reasons
,Viw York Sun.
Adilre to Yonng Hntbaad*.
The Kov. C. C. Hoss, during a lecture
in New York on "The Honeymoon,
and How to Perpetuate It,"said: Look
out for your habits, voung man. Don't
get into the habit of ncgiec ing the little
xurtaies of life in your home. Just
see the young men in a bobtail horse-car
sit forward on the edge of the seat, and
when a pretty young woman enters the
car they watch for the first chance to
put her fare in the box. Why don't you
watch just as eagerly to wait on vour
wife ! Agatn, my young husband, you
and your wife must cultivate mutual
confidence. Distrust of each other is
the bane of humnn society every where.
Of course, yon and your wife ought to
hold different opinions. I was forty
years old before 1 married my wife, and
I knew a thing or two before 1 knew
her. When we were married we did
not empty out our brains and become
fjols. When she comes to vote I want
her to vote on the aide opposite to me.
because if she votes just as I do what's
the use of her voting t She might have
ust as well voted through me as we do
now. But don't fight. Husbands and
wives do fight and bite and claw each
and pull each other's I.air, and
all about a little thing that they wouid
be ashamed of if tney hadn't got heated
Cultivate the habit of cooling down.
Finally, be honest and upright with
your wife, young husband. You ought
to be honest in courtship, but if you
have bad an outside for your girl to look
at, and you have all the time kept a bit
and bridle on your paasions only to be
a brute after marriage, then you have
deceived her. Be as innocent to your
wife as though she was a little baby.
You wouldn't hurt a baby. Stand up
for your wife—if any one says anything
against tier, knock him down. Well,
I'll take that hack—you can knock him
down in your own estimation.
Many of the dolls of the period are
modeled from portraits of celebrated
beauties, and with their wardrotx*
complete in a Saratoga trunk, are so
costly as to be beyond the reach of but
ew lit le folks.
The Safe Deposit company of San
Fanclsco hss laid down an iron vault
weighing 800,000 pou .ids. It is believed
to be the largest in the world.
White fish eggs from the great lakes I
art being shipped to Oermaay.
A Modern Samson.
It I# hardly yet known that the city of
Louisville has for a resident a gentle
man who for a lone time has enjoyed
the reputation of being the strongest
man living, and ccrtninly|if not the
strongest, lie is one of the very few
called so. ile has for a number of years
past been showing some extraordinary
feats of strength, particularly in dumb
bells and lifting heavy weights, both in
this country and in Kurope, and ha*
numerous medals as trophies of his
feats. In 1K73, at the Academy of
Music in New Yorz city, at a hcr
herrulcan toornament in which there
were competitors of all nations,
he won six out of twenty medals offered
or competition. At a tournament in
)H74at Barnum's hippodrome he won
the whole of the five medals which were
offered for the best feats in dumb-bell
lifting Also later, at Shook & Palmer's
hippodrome in New York, in a tourna
ment which lasted four days, he won
the championship of the world. On the
•Jlßt of .July, 1H74, he startled the spec.-
I tators at an exhibition given at Wood's
gymnasium, in New York, by holding
, witli a single hand a monster dumb-bell
of 201 pounds weight. In Boston in 1H75,
at a performance in the Howard Athe
nmuni, lie gave a performance, using
j kegs of nails, bars of railroad iron i
shafting, and also with the greatest of
| ease manipulated the famous lbO-pound
dumb-bell made for the celebrated I)r.
Winship, but never used by him. He is
also a great weight-lifter, having lifted
a dead weight with hip hands of 1,500
| pounds. He lias defeated the famous
strong men of this country, including
I*. Kelly, W. Miller, 11. Joyrfeny (Bar
nurn's famous strong man), ('hristol, Iteg
in<r and others, and io the famous atb
i letc and Hercules of'iermany. Martens
Arps, and many others throughout
| Oreat Britain, including the famous
Donald Duntill, who backed out from
competing with him, after viewing his
material, for a grand test of strength.
He lifts horses, holds naif-ton cannons
while they arc loaded and fired off. pulls
against teams of draft-hones consisting
■ of two. four, and even fix horses; ho d
, filty-six-pound weights at arm's length
horizontally from his body with his lit
tle fingers. These and other indcscrib
able feats of strength must place him in
1 the foremost rank of strong men. To
look at this genticmcn when dressed one
wouid not think him to be the
powerful man he is ; but when
stripped he shows a magnificent
physical development. This gen
tlemen is Mr. Bichard A. Pennell
supenntendent and instructor of the
gymnastic and athletic department of
the Young Men's Christian Association
of this city. Mr. Pennell first joined a
gjmnssium when a yonng man to see if
a benefit could be gained in his health,
he having palpitation of the heart at
the time. His experiment was a com
plete success, an extraordinary robust
ness of body and great health being
attained in a short time, together with
a great development of physical power,
which be has retained to this day, and,
although for days at a time he has
followed sedentary employment, he
never has had the slightest recurrence
of his old trouble, hut,on the contrary,
, enjoys almost immunity from sickness
of all sorts. — l/Miititllc Commercial.
A Big Melon Patch,
Missouri boasts of possessing one of
the largest and most productive melon
patches in the United States. It is situ
ated on the borders of Roott and Missis
sippi counties, and equals if it does not
exceed in size and adaptation of soil and
climate the famous melon patches of
Georgia, Indiana and the eastern shore
of Maryland. The St. Ixmis Pcpubiican
describes it as a tract of sandy prairie,
four miles wide and ten miles long, with
a thin, warm soil, fust adapted to the
cultivation of the melon, and such
melons as are raised nowhere else in
that region. There is much richer and
deeper soil all nround there, but it is not
adapted to melon culture. This land is
capable of producing I, COO melons to
the acre.
At a place called Piehlstadt, in Scott
county, there were shipped the past
season 43* car-loads of 1,000 to the car,
and Bertrand, in Mississippi county,
shipped lAocar-loads, mostly to Chicago,
The me ion county was visited by twenty
five commission merchants from
Chicago, who pild as low as f 40. and
as high as #l4O per car load, being an
average of fTo per ear, the market price
varying with the advarn* of the season
and the number of melons ripening at
the same time. Most of these melons
were slipped over the Cairo and
Vincennes and Illinois Central rail
roads in fruit cars, properly ventilated
and arranged for the purpose. These
melons found their way not only ~o Bt.
I/>uis and Chicago, bu#to most of the
lake cities, and even to New York and
Philadelphia.
It wouid save a great deal of embtr
rasement. says Burdette. and perhaps
add to their emoluments. If clergymen
generally were to charge a fixed rate for
marrying couplet—say $4 for the first
offense, 910 for the second. 990 for the
thirl, md so on. They might even issue
tickets as bey d •in milk fac ories, with
a reduction to persons taking a quantity.
In order to encourage in . fol wedlock,
the job should be done viry cheaply to
young couples, hut the clergy should
take it out of widowers and old bar j
elors.
The present custodian of the bouse of
Burns was one of the six hundred at
Balaklavn, and was n captive in a
Pennsylvania regiment during our civil
war.
Calendar for the Boys.
1 he sport* and games of boyhood one- M
need each other in unerring regularity, •
although it in difficult to giye nny
definite reaaon why. It has orxurred
to us that anporting calendar would bo
of great service to the boyn:
•January: Make nnow fortn. garrinon
them with nnow men. siide down hill
and get your feet wet. Thin takes up
all the month.
February: Go akating. fall into the Ak
"danger" holes and get ncarjy drowned ; }
stay in the house three weeks Jwllh sore
throat and fever.
March: Fish throngh rotten ice, and
run all the risks possible. Get your
hawkey sticks in shape.
April: FirHt week, play practical
jokes till you get some one mad enough
to "lick" you; "hawkey" and baseball
the rest of the month.
May: Paste up a few kites, spilling
the paste all over the carpet, and try
to fly them; marbles a good deal, hop
scotch and " boiler "
June: A little croquet, not much;
get out your tish poles, go in swimming
and worry your mother out of her
senses; insist on going barefoot; Sun
day-school picnics; play cir<ns.
July: Tin horns, fire-crackers, hur
rah, blow yourself up, and start in on
your long vacation: a little fooling
around in the sea, picking huckleber
ries, etc.
August: Up at grandpa's playing in
the haymow, eating green apples,
taking paregoric, getting chased by
cows—in your dreams.
September: Marbles again, general
trading season 0 ! the year, jack-knife
swapping "sight unseen."
October: Political campaigning.
Drums, torches, jack o' lanterns, capes,
processions, badges, " Young America "
, let lcose, seuing an enthusiastic ex- - I
j ample to "old America," which is
! followed.
Nov<ml>er: Clappers, tambourines,
| shows in the wood-shed, testing thin
ice, n general stuff of turkey, plum pud
ding and the natura. consequences.
December: Know-bailing the school
ma'am, breaking window g.aas. brag
ging about " Christmas coming." growi
' ing because it served you no better
when it did come.
The above is subject to cyclones of
lag-piaying, jumping, leap-frog and
tornados* of new and brij.iant sports
that appear on the surface for a brie
time and disappear as suddenly as they
rome.— Sew Haven \
The Germun Census.
In Germany, as in England, the cen
sus is taken in one day. Schedules are
i furnished in advance to be Owed by each
j male inhabitant, which arc collected by
| officers. This fulfillment is injured by
making each owner or agent responsible
for the occupants of every house com
plying with the law. This mtbod is
declared by statisticians to 1 '■ the least
subject to incorrectness, and it lias been
adopted since the cication of the cm-
I pire. The last census was taken on
■ I>ecember 1. Though not yet com
pleted. comparisons sufficient exist to
: show that the popu.ation lias increased
1 to a greater degree than in France, or,
in fact, any European nation.
In I*7l the whole German empire was
found to contain a population of 41,-
058,798. During the next term ol four
years the na'ional procnative power
was certain to experience a shrinkage
corresponding to the adult males in the
Franco-German war. For at least two
years of the same period t iere was also
a great drainage through emigration to
America. Nevertheless, in 1W75 the
number of inhabitants had reached 42.-
727,360 In the interval between the last , '
and the present enumerations the
German bureau of statistics hasjkept a
careful redbrd of births and deaths, as
well as of emigration, with a view of
determining the net gain at the end of v
every twelve-montb. It was deducted
from these in vesUgntiens that the regular
yearly increment of the population is
not less than 650 000 souls. This infer
ence is confirmed by the last census
taken; for although the details are not
compiled, the broad result Is known,
namely, that the German empire now
comprises from forty-five and a half to
| forty-six millions of inhabitants.
A Little Friendly Name.
They had not been married long, so
they sat down to play checkers. In the
middle of the game shi sid :
"Then do I jump the* two men and
get a kingP Of course 1 do. Crown
me. I've got the first king." and she
chuckled hysterically.
" No, you ain't, either. I didn't mean
that move," said he. "If you can't play A
checkers without cackling like a hen m
you uad better give it up. Til take that A
back and move here; now, so. Now ,
you can move "
" Over hereP" asked the wife.
"Certainly. That's very good," and .
ber husband gobbled two men. m
" I didn't see that- I'd rather put it m
here," she remonstrated.
"Too late now," said be, pegging
away for tbe king row. " You should •
study your moves first."
Tbe Swiss colony in North Carolina
has discovered that the mulberry tree
grows with as much luxuriance as the
cherry, and that the soil and climate of
ibis Slate alike foretell tbe future pro
due:ions ol silk under tbe most favorable "
conditions.
Courtesy suffers from exaggeration.
By too much courtesy we beoome dis
courteous. and excess of civility makes
■a uncivil.
' r. . a- * ■ . ,1