FOR THE FAIR HEX
Marry a 4<riit l.m.ii
Marry a gentleman,
Girl*, it you oau,
Mituleil and built
tin the generous plan,
Though he may neither
Have silver or gold,
Title or fortune,
" To have or to hold."
Though he may labor
With spade or with hoe,
Though he may not
But hi* mother-tongue know,
Though he may live under
Society's ban,
Marry n gentleman,
Girls, il you can.
Marry a gentleman,
Girls, if you can,
Gentle and tender
Though no less a man,
One who will trcasuto
His child or his wile,
Scorning to rob them
01 sweetness in lite.
One who will nevor
The brute's part assume,
Filling his household
With sorrow and gloom.
If on love's altar
The flame you would fan,
Marry a gentleman,
Uirls, it you can.
You will be happy,
And you will be glad,
Though he only
Be commonly clad,
Pleasure is fleeting,
And life but a span—
Marry a gentleman,
Girls, il you can.
Ntwisail Rotufnr Women,
Mrs. John Hurd, of Urhana. seventy
years of ttge, sues her husband, forty
years of age, for divorce and alimony.
Mrs. Hatton is at the head of the Ten
nessee State library, and she and her
daughters keep the 90,000 volumes of the
library in as perfect order as they could
be kept by any male librarians in the
land.
A school-girl saw a play performed at
San Luis, C'al.,in which the heroine died
by poison, after suffering very much
from unrequited love. The girl had an
unhappy love affair of her own, nnd the
performance on the stage impressed her
so deeply that she bought arsenic on the
way home and committed suicide.
A New York paper has discovered
that there are many American women
who would rather have a work-basket,
writing-desk or table made and orna
mented at o<fd times and during stolen
moments by their busbar ds, lovers or
brothers, than a dosen pair of earrings
bought at great expense.
Regina Dal Cin, the uneducated
Italian peasant woman, has again put
the educated surgeons to shnmc by per
forming a difficult operation which they
considered impossible. The operation
was the reduction of a dislocation of the
hip joint of twenty years' standing,
during which time the patient had grown
from childhood to maturity, and it was
performed in Philadelphia. The wise
doctors give it up and the dull fellows
shake their heads and refuse to acknowl
edge. There is no bigotry like the
regular school of anything.— Roston Ihr
aii.
Mis. Renfro,of Cape Girardeau, Mo.,
was accused of theft and fled to Cairo.
She was arrested, but attempted to jump
in ta rirer. On her way back to the
Cape sh tried to throw herself unde
the cars. An examination of the charge
against the woman proved her to be in
nocent.
Tl> Women of ilw York,
A writer for the Cincinnati Rn/juirer
has been looking critically at New York
women, and the following is one of the
conclusions-
As a rule, the higher you go up in the
social scale of New York the less beauty
you find. I could name top-lofty fam
ilies whose women are generally ugly to
the extent of positive hideousness.
There is a theory that the product of
several generations of high culture is a
palpably superior article of women, with
small hands and feet, arched insteps,
sensitive nostrils, nnd other points sup
posed to indicate physical and mental
refinement. Observation proves tba*
the truth is no such thing. The shop
girls of the Bowery are prettier, as a
class, than the idle girls of Fifth avenue.
This reads like heresy, no doubt, but it
is nevertheless a plain statement of a
fact. Criticise the two sorts without
allowing the judgment to be prejudiced
by the matter of dress, and the prixe
medal must be awarded to the Bowery,
notwithstanding its sins of clothing and
manners.
luhlss SotH.
Irish poplin is again in favor in Eu
rope.
Dresses are worn fattened at the beck
this winter.
Rose colored tufted gauze veils are
very becoming.
Small buttons are preferred for silk
and wool basques.
Ribbed cardigan tickets are worn
under the plush basques.
A chenille fringe makes the prettiest
collar for a street jacket.
Little satin-lined shoulder caps are
worn with house dresses.
English brides now wear the veil
drawn back from the face.
Real Spanish or Alenoon are fashion
able laces for bridal veiling.
English women think that serge makes
the best of costumes for all weathers.
Americans do not like the material.
Combs, if worn at ail, are now placed
low on the left side of the hend.
A little circlo of fringe is sometimes
placed around ornamental buttons.
Six plaiting* of different colors are
used to trim some black veivct skirts.
Tight sleeves are sometimea left open
at the wrist and finished by a bead
fringe.
Fringes, having each strand finished
with a jet ball, are used to trim satin
dresses.
White, yellow and red are the colors
most in vogue for evening dresses this
winter.
Kerchiefs of black hernani, edged with
fringe, aro worn with mourning cos
tumes .
Collars and cuffs for morning wear
are made very large and are embroidered
in colors.
White plush is the newest trimming
for bridal robes. It is becoming and
stately in effect.
House dresses aro made to,fit rather
tighter than last winter, and no longer
suggest dressing gowns.
Sicilienne and brocade, in pale colors,
are the favorite materials for young
ladies' evening dresses.
Gold embroidered scarls of black lace
are wound around the neck and fastened
with a large, old-fashioned gold brooch.
The hair is now worn in a loose
twisted coil or a bow-knot, instead of
the braided coil, lor full-dress occasions.
Chatelaine - of gold or sliver, with a
multiplicity of breloques, are again
worn by both French and English la
dies of fashion.
A late style of coiffure is to coll the
hair in tight rings on tho side of the
head, Japanese fashion, keeping the
ring in place witli long jeweled pins.
Chatelaine bags are worn far bark on
the left side now. Thr>3e which nccom- j
pany street costumes have e stiff lining.
Those meant for house wear are liaip.
Honeycomb silk and wool stuffs aro
used to make the Watteau overdresses
worn with tea gowns, nnd surah or satin
forms the vest and the pinitings under
the train.
Many house ressrs have the corsage
cut pompadour or heart-shape and filled
in with a full shirring of brocaded
Spanish net, and a high ruching of the
same lace about the neck.
" Ths cagie's-wmg tunic" is the latest
shape in overdresses. It has two long,
sharp, sheath-like points in front nnd
two in the back. Very little trimming
is used upon these tunics.
The Marguerite gauntlet sleeve is very
fashionable and stylish. The top is
made of the material of the dress, nnd
the long cuff" which reaches to the el
bow is made of plush velvet or satin.
The cuff fits closely to the arm, and is
buttoned or laced up the ba k.
Gioves are much the same as they have
been for some years past. Woolen gloves
are worn over kid ones by ladies who do
not carry muff's. Kid gloves lined with
fur aiso serve for this purpose; they are
called " gants moscovites," and have
only two buttons. Many gloves for
evening wear are laced. On the ends of
the fine cordings are small tassels. These
gloves come in different lengths.
A Desperate Duel.
The I'eith correspondent of the Lon
don Rtaruiard describes a tragical affair
which occurred recently at Bittse, in the
Trenczin county, Hungary. M. Smia
lovsky. who was in his nineteenth year,
and son of a landed proprietor and M.
Moravsky, aged twenty-one, whose
father was district magistrate, agreed
some weeks ago to settle some romantic
differences by a duel. Having ordered
pistols from Vienna they went together
the evening before the combat to a local
ball and appeared to be on the most
friendly terms. In the early morning,
when the dancing was over, they went
arm-in-arm to the apartments which
tbey were occupying in common and
took a few hours' rest. At 8.30 o'clock
they went out alone to a neighboring
forest and took up their positions at a
distance of only three paces from each
other. Both fired and both fell. M.
Smialovsky was unable to move from
the spot, but M. Moravsky was able to
drag himself to his lodgings. An hour
elapsed before a surgeon was able to
reach the man who had been left on the
ground. On the sixth day after the
duel both of the duelists died, each
having previously made a formal
declaration tiiat the cause of this desper
ate encounter was an affair of honor.
A Hollow MM.
Joshua Joynes, a man well known in
the eastern part of Virginia as a glutton,
sat down to dinner near Onaneock, Ac
comae county, and disposed of a bill of
fare which consisted of fifteen pounds
of pork, twelvo links ol bologna sausage,
souse from one large hog, one large
goose, which the gormandizer had been
fattening for a month, one full grown
chicken, one peck of sweet potatoes, one
dozen large biscuits, one large mince
pis, and six cups of strong coflee.
Joynes sat down to this repast at one
o'clock, and at 9.30 he had disposed of
every article named, picked the bones of
the fowls, and took a glass of eggnog.
lie then smoked a pipe, jumped ou a
horse, and rode five miles through the
frosty air. Joynes weighs 880 pounds,
and is a good-humored old fe;iow ol
•Ixtv.
There are 90,000 hounds in Great
Britain, kept at an estimated cost oi
99,900,000.
One of Mr. Moody's Stories.
One of the secrets of Mr. Moody's
power is his nbilily n* a story-teller.
This is well illustrated by the following
from one of his addresses in Him Fran
cisco: " When I was a young man, be
fore I loft my native town. I was at
work in the field one day in company
with a neighbor of mine. All at once I
saw him begin to weep. I asked tlim
what the trouble was. He then told me
a strange story—strange to me then,
for I was not at that time a Chris
tian. He said that his mother was a
Christian when he left home to seek his
fortune. When he was about storting
his mother took him by the hand and
spoke these parting wo da: 'My son,
seek ye first the kingdom of God and his
righteousness, and all things else shall
be added unto thee.' 'This,' said he,
* was my mother's favorite text.' When
he got into the town where he was
going, he had to spend the Babbath
there. He went to church, and the
minister too this very text: 'Seek ye
first the kingdom of God.' He thought
it very s ange. Well, he said he would
not seek the kingdom then; he would
wait until lie got a start in life, until he
got a farm and some money. Yet
that text troubled him. Again he
went to church and to his amazement
the sermon was on the very same text.
He did not attend church for some time.
At last he was induced to again enter
the church, and behold, he heard the
preacher take that very same text. He
thought then it was God speaking to
him, that his mother's prayers were
being answered. Hut he coolly and de
liberately made uo hi* mind tiiat he
would not be a Christian. 'I never
heard any sermon since,'said he, 'that
lias made any impression on me.' I was
not a Christian myself then, so I didn't i
know how to talk to him.
"The time came lor me to leave home. ,
; I went to Boston, and there I became a
convert. Who I got to be a Christian, j
the first thing that came into my mind !
was that man. I made up my mind to ,
j try to tiring him to Christ. When I
j came home I mentioned the name to my j
mother, and asked if he was living. ' Is
ho ItvingP' she exclaimed. ' Didn't I
write to you al>out him?' 'Write me
what?' ' Why, that he had gone out ol
his mind, and is now in the insane asy
lum.' When I got up there he pointed
his finger at me. Says he: ' Young man,
seek ye first the kingdom of God.'
He had never forgotten the text. Al
though hi* mind was shattered and
gone, the text wa* there. The next time
I returned home my mother told me he
we* at home idiotic. I went to the
house to see him, and there wa* that
va-nut look in his eye. I said: 'I)o
you know mo P' He pointed his finger
at me, and said: ' Young man, seek ye
first the kingdom of God.' God had
driven that text into hi.* mind, hut his
reason wa* gone. The next time Ire
turned home he was dead , and when I
visited my father's grave I noticed a new
grave stone had been put up. 1 stopped
to read it, and found it was my friend's.
The autumn wind wa* making a
mournful noise, and I seemed to hear it
whispering the text: • Beck ye first the
kingdom of God.'"
The Turkish I'eople,
A Constantinople correspondent of the
Ixmdon Standard, ignoring, for the
moment, the eternal Eastern question,
write* a* follows of the Turkish people:
"The commonest form of a rich lady's
cloak is entirely native as regards
material and shape. It is a piece of
heavy silk, rarely good in color, upon
one end of which formal and meaning-
Ira* devices have been worked in gold.
The character of them suggest* that in
former days this out-door garment con
sisted of two piece*, one a golden scarf
for the head, with pendant fringe and
tassels, the other a mantle of plain silk.
In process of Urns the scarf and tassel*
were incorporated, as it were, in the
mantle, surviving only as a cumbrous
ornament. It is not necessary to de
scribe the appearance of Turkish women
thus appareled. Every one knows how
they stride along like animated sacks,
showing ill-made French boots, or
else trailing low alippers. Not a few
wear socks, always down at heel,
often trailing in the perennial mud. Fine
eyes, both gray and black, are common,
and quite enough is seen of the features
to assure one that beauty of fare is not
sparingly distributed. While lightly
digressing in this by-path I would point
out the exceeding fairness of the
race. The Turkish peasant has a whiter
skin than the Greek townsman. Southern
Italians even are more dusky of com
plexion. Fair hair and ilgbt eye* abound
in all classes, and, unless it be a man
evidently crossed with negro blood, you
will scarcely ever see a Turk so brown
of skin as are the vast minority fo
Greeks. In height and.atrenglh of build,
also, they are superior to alt their sub
ject peoples, excepting the Albanian.
This magnificent race, the Skipetar, is
the Path an of Europe, but vastly above
its Asiatic antitype in all the finer qual
ities of man. No unprejudiced observer
can doubt that the Albanian, with all
Lis shortcoming* and his faults, is the
most hopeful, as he is most interesting,
of the nationalities subject to Turkey.
Above all, he is artistic, permeated
with a sense of fitness and beauty,
which he displays in manner, in dress,
In all and every one of the many arts
cultivated by the nationality, which the
utilitarian Greek rails barbarous.
A New York undertaker displays in
bis window a miniature hearse, drawn
by four prancing horses, and a little
coffin with a doll Inside, surrounded by
■ group of mourning dolls.
( hanged Her Mind.
George Bovard is the name ola young
Methodist minister who attended the
annual conference of thcM. E. church
at Mercer n couple of years ago. While
there he and a young lady teacher of the
Soldiers' Orphan school, located in
Mercer, fell in love with each other. Her
name was Clara Shaffer. Ho was about
to start for India to Christianize tiie
heathen. A correspondence was kept up
between the two, and lie wanted her to
come to him, be married, and assist him
in his labors. He had no money to
pay her expenses, and she
had none. In thiß emergency
a few months ago she mado a confidante
of'• Dick " Wright, a heavy clothing
merchant of Mercer, and he being a big
hearted man with generous impulses,
offeied to supply her with what money
she needed to reach her far off lover.
She gladly accepted his offer, and at
once began her preparations for the long
iourney. " Dick "and Miss Shaffer were
thrown much together for a while, and
about the time she was ready to start lie
was deeply in love with her himself.
Hut he said nothing, and she started for
New York with enough of " Dick's"
money in her pocket to take her to
India.
Two or three days after her departure
he grew despondent, and chided himself
for tiaving given away his chance for
marrying Miss Shaffer himself. A
thought struck him, and that was to fol* l
low her, and, if possible, overtake her j
before she boarded a steamsr in New
York for distant India. He acted
promptly on the thought, took the cars,
reached New York, and found the vis
sei on which she was to sail. Mi
Shaffer was already on board; lie m*<l
known his affection, wir.cd her for her 1
hand for himself, was accepted, and the |
two returned to Mercer a few days ago j
as man and wife.
The outcome is a little rough on the
young minister who is wrestling with
superstition ai.d idolatry in the jungles
jof India.— PUUburg (/' ) Commercuu.
torn lor Fnet,
There ar places in the Wrat and
j Northwest where scarcity at fuel has
j forced people to bum corn again this
winter. The frequent recurrence of the
fuei famine in those place., lead* a cor
respondent in the St. I'aul Pioneer-Ire* s
to suggest what he rails a practical soiu
tion of the problem. Coal cannot bt
found, and the use of wood will soon ex
haust the avai.ahlc supply of that arti
cle; com is the only substitute, and
must be the fuel of the future. For
stove* it i* superior to any other sub
stance, hard coal only excepted, anc
it is cheaper than anything that
is likely to he used for fuel. Two of
three acres of com wili afford an ordi
nary family a year's supply of fu'i; and
this writer allege* that the same corn
sold in the mnrket, and the proceeds
turned either into wood or coal, will not
begin to do it. Of course he speak* of
the far northern prairie Corn mny b<
used in cither a wood or coal stove
without any change of grate*, and
makes a steady hot fire, which can be
regulated a* reaelily a* a coal fire. Two
bushels of com in tbpear, it is estimated,
will keep a oom'ortahle fire the coldest
day in winter. Regarding the pquearo
ishness about burning an article that
is used for food, the writer nji,
pointedly: "I would sooner have
an acre ol corn that ran be
replaced in a single year them to bum
acre of timber that it takes years to
replace, even on the score ol sentiment."
There is common sense in this. It is
cheaper for people on the Jertile prairies
to raise their fuel, as they do their fx>d.
and save what little limoer they have
for other purposes -sentimental squeam
ishncrs should not deter them from
doing so. More rooked food is daily
thrown away than would feed the
hungry poor, and it is done without
compunction. While there can be no
excuse for this wastefulness, there is
good reason for burning corn when it is
of more value for fuel than theproc<eds
would he if used in the purchase of
wood or onai.
A Child Telegrapher.
The frontier telegraph office at Wil
liams' ranch is managed by Hallie
Hutchinson, a little girl nine years of
age A gentleman who returned from
there a few days since nays that Hallie
is the most remarkably intelligent little
eif he ever had the pleasure of meeting.
She handles her instrument with the
success and precision of an old operator.
Recently, when election returns wore
coming in and the wbo'e country was
wildly exalted to know the result, little
Hallie sat at her instrument, her eyes
aglow with intelligence, and gathered
in the news from all over the Union,
while doxms of brawny men crowded
round to hear what the lightning
brought, and to admire the wonderfol
skill of the little operator. While con
trolling the wire* as she docs Hallie i*
not unlike other little girl* of her age in
her habits and inclinations. For in
stance, one end of her operating table is
piled full of baby dolls, and she spends
s great deal cf her leisure time dressing
and nursing them. Brown county way
claim the youngest telegrapher in the
world. H'ooo ( Tcx>it) Ihaminer.
During the recent civil conflict there
were two volunteers lying beneath their
blankets, looking np at the star.* in n
Virginia sky. Says Jack; "V,*ha:.
made you go into the army, Tom P"
" Wel\" replied Tom, "I had no wife,
and I love war. What made you go.
Jack r •• Well," rt plied the latter, • I
had, and I love peace, so I went to the
war."
HOME OF TIIE VfcHDETTA.
How lh CoralMM Afa Wroai-| R .
of Tarrlblo Vtmaanaa. HIMHI,
Vow*.
A correspondent of tbo Ht. i/;uis
Globe-Democrat at Vivario, Corsica,
writes: The C'orsicans are brave, tem
perate, hospitable, but indolent, impel
uouaand particularly vindictive. Tiicy
are very quick to take offense, and
equally quick to revenue or resent any
wrong, actual or imaged. These trait*
are not much observed in the large
to7ns, though they crop out constantly
in the sparsely-settled districts, and
contribute to the continuance of the
vendetta, which the French authorities,
with all their efforts, have not yet been
able to eradicate. The vendetta has been
the chief cause of the stationary, even
diminishing, population, systematic
homicide in dliferent quarters being far
more numerous than any natural in
crease. Thirty or forty years ago it was
not uncommon for whole families, so far
as the male members went, to be exter
minated by the blood-feud, an<' at the
beginning of the century the number of
inhabitant* was steadily declining from
the same cause.
When a murder has been committed
here the murderer is pursued, not only
by the officers of justice, but by the
kinsmen of the slain, who regard it tyi a
solemn duty to avenge his death. The
latter seize their arms at once, follow
the homicide, resolved upon his death.
| If be should escape altogether they feel
bound to take the life of his relatives;
so tliat anybody and everybody who is
consanguineously connected with the
homicide is obliged to be perpetually on
the alert. Men who are hunted always
carry weapons with them, and when
they arc in the fields set watch to
warn them of any hostile approach.
At home they keep their doors and win
dows —if they have any windows - bar
ricaded, and as the would-be assassin is
seldom farol! luey are reahy in an in- j
cessant state of siege. Persons who, as
the phrase Is, are suffering the vendetta,
have been shut up in their boum* for
ten or fifteen years, and shot dead the
moment they ventured out-doors.
The women incite the men to revenge
by singing songs ol vengeance. These
people arc noU d tor improvisation over
the corpse ol the person murdered, dis
playing at the same lime his bloody
garments, and acting out drr.matica.ly
their vehement passion. Not infre
quently a mother attaches to her son's
garments a bloody shred of the niur
dcred man's shirt b a reminder of his
duty, and enjoins him not to remove
it until the vendetta has been satisfied.
Comparatively small injuriessmay give
rise to it, even purely casual occur
rences. Mediators, termed paroianti,
often volunteer to heal a quarrel, es
pecially when life ha* not been sacri
ficed, and when they succeed, an oatu of
reconciliation is sworn, and the oath is
regarded as solemnly binding; but It is
broken occasionally.
The brigandage which prevail* on this
; island can 0e almost always traced to
the vendetta. A man kills another from
revenge; he takes refuge in the moun
tains, and, a* it is never safe to resume
his old life, he adopts robbery as a
trade.
There are family feuds, independent
of the vendetta as properly .nderstood.
These feuds are hereditary, and exist
sometimes between entire villages. The
prominent families used to hand down
feuds from generation to generation,
and not the relative* alone, but the re
tainers and servants were involved, and
fought with one another desperately,
like the Guolphs ana Ghibellines and
the Neri and Hiancbi of the middle ages
in Italy. The vendetta is not confined
here to men. Women also share in it,
especially where they have t>een betray
ed. Any woman who slays her lover
und r such circumstances is considered
heroine, and ballads to celebrate her
courage arc su ig in her honor. I have
seen many a stoned veiling, having iron
doors and perforated with holes, through
which an approaching enemy could be
seen and shot.
I have been told of a man living near
Zicavo, a sufferer from the vendetta,
who hao been a self-made prisoner in his
own house for seventeen years. He
knew that his foe tiad all this while been
lying in wait for him; but learning that
he bad gone to Sartene tor a week, he
ventured forth, rejoicing once more in
the open air and looking up to the blue
sky in tbanktuiness. "This is meet,"
he murmured, and as he pronounced
the last word there was a sharp report,
and he feel dead with a buliel through
bis brain. The vigilance of seventeen
years had been recompensed. His unre
lenting enemy bad bribed somebody to
deoeive the " sufferer " with a false re
port, and the sufferer had fallen into the
trap. The man who bad been revenge
was slain a week later as be was lea\ iag
the village of Solaro by a cousin of the
vteti&j at Zicavo.
Another man, a relative of Santa Ma
ria. killed a shepherd in dispute, and
conscious that the man bad six brothers,
fled to Bitatia, and there took ship for
leghorn. He remained on the peninsula
ten years, and having been t ssnred that
the brothers had either died or quitted
the island for France, he returned home
Ho lived unmolested for months, bnt
one stormy night one of the brothers
shot him fatally as he opened the door to
* gentle knock.
These occurrences belong to the past,
The government has, by the severest
m -names, near y rrutlied the vendetta
nd its accompaniment, brigandage.
It executed every a*sn> in and brigand
a* a common enemy of the State and hu
manity ; it made the carrying of aims a
k m I
- : ■ ah
penal offense, not ex opting those ter -
rled for the chase, and Imprisoned every
one known to harbor or aid in any man
ner an offender against each statute. A
large force of gendarmerie was engaged
for years in hunting down assassins and
brigands among the mountains; they
had desperate work and any number of
romantic adventures. They were often
kiiled, but they triumphed in the end.
While the vendetta is not absolutely
crushed, it is comparatively so, and
strangers can travel anywhere except
among the mountains, with almost no
danger, if they will keep their temper
and mind their own affairs. Homicides
are still frequent, owing to the hot blood
and extreme sensitiveness of the natives,
but the homicides are not followed by
the old means of vengeance. At one
time, on this island, which then had a
population of not more than 235,000, as
many as 4,500 are said u> have perished
by the vendetta in thirty years- a terri
ble proportion indeed.
Looking for a Wife.
Satki Kumara, the hero of a curious
Hindustani story, preferred testing a
damsel's capability before tying the knot
Master of a prosperous and profitable
business, he came to the conclusion
that a wife was wanted to complete his
happiness, and determined to go in
search of one. Adopting the guise of a
fortune-teller, and carrying some rice
bound up in his cloth, he started on his
trave.g. Whenever he enoountered a
girl that pleased his eye he asked her
to cook hir rice for him. Some laughed
at him, some reviled him and none
seemed inclined to comply with his
modest demand. At last he met
witli a beautiful girl who, instead of
ridiculing or abusing the strange trav
el! r, relieved him of the rice, and bade
him be rested. Then the kindly maiden
set about preparing the rice. First she
steeped it in water, then drieu it in the
sun. and, that accomplished, rubbed the
grains gently on the ground, removing
the awn without breaking the rice.
Calling her nurse she di-patched that
worthy to sell the bran, and with the
piocerds to purchase- an earthen boiler,
two platters and some fuel. By the
time this mission was executed the rice
had been brayed in a mortar, winnowed
and washed and ready to put in the
boiler with five times its hulk of water.
As soon as it had swollen suffi
ciently the boiler was taken from the
Are, the water cleared off the scum, the
boi,er put back, and the rice constantly
stirred by the pretty ~ook until she was
satisfied it was properly done. By turn
ing the boiler mouth downward she ex
tinguished the fire, and collecting the
j unoonsumed fuel dispatched the old
j woman to convert it into butter curds,
jon and tamarinds. This achieved, she
| toid the enraptured Sakti Tumara to go
and bathe and not to omit rubbing him
| scii with oil. Having obeyed orders, the
wife-seeker was directed to seat bim
se.i upon a plank on the well-swept floor,
on which were already laid a large plain
tain leaf and two platters. His charming
hostess then brought him water in a
perfumed jug and administered two
spoonfuls of well-seasoned rice and
ghee, preparatory to serving up the re
mainder of the rioc mixed with spices,
curds, butter and milk, of which Sakti
Kumara ate his fill and then indulged
n a siesta. As soon at he woke he asked
the giri to become his wife, and she
being willing the necessary ceremony
was gone through without delay, and
the supposed fortune-teller took Irs
bride home to astonish her as the Ixwd
of Burleigh astonished his rustic love,
but the Hindoo lass was luckier than
Tennyson's heroine, for we are assured
that she lived long to worrbip her hus
band as a god and made ber bouse the
abode of bliss.— Chamber't Journal.
The Missing Llak.
Miss Bird, an English lady, describes
in a hook on Japan, and especially on
the Ainos. bow she was ferried across a
river by one Aino "completely covered
by hair, which on his shoulders was
wavy like that of a retriever, and ren
dered clothing quite needless either for
covering or warmth; n and how in an
other place she met with a second old
man, whom she emphatically describes
as "the missing link." His face was
vacan and apathetic, his arms and Is
were unnaturally long and thin, be
squatted with his knees tucked under
his arm pits, and bis whole body was
covered with black hair more than an
inch long, and slightly curly an lha
shoulders, lie bad, however, a bat
patch on each side.probably marking the
parts on which be rested when asleep, n
peculiarity found in the gorilla, who has
a bare spot on his back where be leans
against trrc t.
Changed His IM,
"Ah, that's what I lilrsl that's what
I like!" chirped old Mr. Whistleblos
sora as he came carefully down the hill
where the boys were exercising their
sleds. "If there's anything I really
love it's to see the boys, fall of animal
spirits, enjoying these wintry sports."
And just at that Instant n hundred and
fifty pounds of animal spirits cam*
dashing down the hill on n double
runner, end caught the unsuspecting
Mr. Wbistlebloeeom between the heels.
There was a sound of revelry by night,
and when they picked up the unfor
tunate gentleman, and had pinned to
gether the ruptured back of his coat, be
remarked in a tone so gsnUe that It
mads him quite black in the lace, that
the city government wbo would refuse
to pass a tew nking it n reform school
crime to slide on the streets, were n set,
of pusillanimous yahoos.
I M:, jy M