Dark Days. Ah, met nh, tnu! tho dark, dark days. When lift* seemed far too hard to hear; When disinnl were it* weary way*, And doubt was very near despair; When foolish seemed my beat-laid plana, Impracticable, hopeless, vain; And I wn* longing to let slip The work that since has brought me gain! The dark, dark days, when weeping skies And sobbing winds seemed but to be Tho echo of that human woo Whose deeper meaning was in mo; The days when Love had proved untrne. And Friendship lint n broken reed— A broken reed that pierced my heart, And made it inly, dumbly bleed! The dark and dreary days in which The ixxly would not serve the mind, And painful languors had the power My will in impotence to bind; When Duty called me with strong voice, And, heedless both of blame and praise, I answered her with fainting heart— Oh, tho long, aching, wenry days! but thin, O soul, thou wort but one, But one in a great company, And each had had some days ns dark As any that had come to thee; For into every life must fall Tho solemn rain of human tears, Ane over every life is hung Thosoml>er clouds of drifting fears. But not in langhter and in song Was I tbo noblest lesson taught: 'Twas in the struggle of dark hours My soul to highest niins was wrought. Then Faith, Knduranee, I'atieucc, Hope, Came near, and made me strong for strife; And thus the storm of life's dark hours Brought me the harvest-time of life. —Harper's liazar. IN THE GLASS. The village of Slapton was ns quiet a village as can be. There are few houses in it; and the congregation that gathered every Sunday at the parish church came chieily from the farms that were scattered broadcast over the surrounding country. Tho vicar was the Itev. Herbert Gardner, and he was the happy father of some half a dozen children, the eldest of whom, M.ittie, was a ••harm ing girl of twenty. There was little society in the village, and Mattie'.s chief ideas of the world at large were drawn from the occasional visits she made to a relative who lived in the neighltoring county town, still, though she was homely and unsophisticated, there was none of that affected sim plicity you so often se in girls. She was a frank, fearless, outspoken girl, full of life and spirits, and never so happy as when rambling about the old vicarage garden, picking la*k< t fuls of roses for some sick boy or girl and carrying with them sunshine into Borne darkened home. And in such works of real love and charity the last few years of her life had been mainly spent. Her father called her " his curate;" and, as the living was a small one, she was the only curate he had. Mattie had been free as yet from " heart disease," though a neighboring squire's son had made several awk ward attempts at love-making; and, though .Mattie quite recognize! the compliment he paid her, she never for a moment regarded him in any other light than as a friend, and remained herself perfectly heart-whole. This had happened when she was eighteen, and time had gone on smoothly enough, and at twenty she was still happy in her uneventful lot. Hut the smooth run of life's wheels was interrupted at last and the w heels were joltisl out of their usual track; for alsiut this time there came to tin Village a young surgeon who w as look ing out for a good opening for prac tice, and hail determined to settle down here. As a matter of course, he and Mattie often met in the houses of the poor, and. although not a word of love passed between them, people began to associate their names together, and to speak of what might happen as a cer tainty. One day when Mattie was, as usual, amongst her roses, a servant came to say that Doctor Robertson had asked for her father, and, as he was from home, for her. When she entered the room with her basket of roses on her arm, the doctor might well lie excused If he wondered which were the fairer —the -tose in the basket or the rose with the basket. If such thoughts passisl through his mind he quickly put them aside, for he said: " I came to ask Mr. Gardner if he would step down to old Silas Jones, who is very ill with fever. They are very poor, and any h lp you could give them would IKS of more use than medicine." " Papa is from home," she said, "and will not return till to-morrow. Hut I will take them some beaf-tea and port, if you think that would lie good for him." " Nothing could be better," said the doctor. " Hut you must not go there yourself for fear of infection. I am going past the house and will take them myself if you will give them to me." "No, thank you doctor," said Miss Mattie. " I never shirk my duty nor delegate it toothers, so I will take them myself." " Anyway, let mo walk with you if you arc going now and we can talk about the case as we go." In a few minutes the beef-tea and the wine were ready and Mattie sal ' lied forth with tho doctor. And this was the way they talked about the j ease ; " It's a beautiful day, isn't it V" " Glorious!" said Mattie. " What has become of you in the evenings lately? 1 used to see you frequently, but now you are never to bo seen." •• Minnie lias not been well lately, >• I have staid at home on her account. It is pleasant to know that some one misses me," she said, laughing. " I ini<- you a great deal. Miss Mat tie -almost as much, if Hot quite as much, as your own people do. This is I Jones'cottage ; so now let lnr take tic tilings in. ' •• No, ind< id ; I shall go in myself," said Mattie. " No, decidedly 110," said tho doctor. "It can never lie your duty to rush into uncallcd-for dangt r. lam obliged to see these p. ip] so let me take the j basket in." From that day it began to dawn on • Mat tie's heart that here was one man who missed her when she was absent and who tried t<> keep her out of danger. And little by little this thought grew lugger and took root, until there came a sort of echo to it, which said, ' " I uii-s him. too. I wish he had not to ri-k his life by going to see fever ' eases." Ami from that day there was less • I * '! cordial friendship and there win more 1 shy reserve in her intercourse with the j doctor. And sometimes l>tr Rob ert-"!! did n >t know what to make of it, and one< v ning he said: ' | '• What lia> i I done to ve\ you. Miss Mattie?" To which she r plied; " Ve\ me! ' Why, nothing, of roiir*'-! Whatever ' i made you think y>ai had t" "My own Stupidity, 1 -up; re pli -d he. "I lioiild be vry sorry to 1 vex jou, Mi -■ M itti • M Tien don't talk about it, elao yon will," she -aid. " What a lovely r • that i.-! Would 1 you mind giving it to me to-how ha tha! y- ii arc not vexed?" -aid the din tor. "There are plenty on that bush," ihe answered. "Ton can take as 1 many as yon like." " Hut won't you give nie that one? I am g ing away f.>r a fortnight and it will be a keepsake—lf you will give it to me. Do, phase." "if you really want it you shall have it," she said, as she took it out'of her bosom and gave it to him. And, he, as he pinned it in his coat, said: "It will remind inc of a rose even fairer than itself." "For shame, doctor," said Miss Mattie. " 1 will not -top to hear such gross flattery" and away she ran to ward the house. "Shake hands lir*t," lie cried. "I am going to-morrow, early. One may get smashed up on the journey, so I should like to part'fri- nils. It is a long way to Manchcsti r." she gave him her hand, saying: "Good-bye, Doctor Kolwrtson; I wish you a pleasant journey." He had b-cn gone almut a w-ek when, as Mattie was coming down the street, if street it could !• called, the doctor's housekeeper was standing at the door with a paper in her hand. When Mattie drew* near, the old woman cried out: " Laws a in ussy t Miss Mattie, but do'ee just read this paper. My owd eyes hintia so good as they oncost was;" and the i>ld lady held out a crumpled newspaper. And Mattie read: "On the 24th inst., at the parish church, Manchester, James Robertson, M.D., only son of I'eter Rnliertson, M.R.t'.S. and L.S.A., of Manchester, to Sarah Kliznheth, daughter of the late Isaac Jefferson, of I'olton." For a moment Mattie was speech less witli lidnglis] feelings. Then came the reflection that this garrulous old Woman must not sec her pain. And summoning ftp all her resolution, i site said: '• If you writetohlm, wish him much happiness for me." In the solitude of her chamber she looked into hor heart and learned her secret. This man, who was another's ; husband, had made himself dearer to Iter than any one on earth could lm; and she had been mistaken in sup|>oH ing that he cared for her. Oh, shnrne ( shame, to love whrre she was not loved j —to give her heart Unasked ! titill, ' she never told her love—the secret was ' her own, and she could keep it invio. i late and meet him on his return with t out flinching. And, although she had > no power to put him out of her heart, she could and would prevent her mind i from dwelling upon him. r One morning she heard that the n i doctor had coma home. She won I standing amongst her rosea with a f very sad heart, when she saw Dr. k \ Hoborl mi passing up tho road with a lady. He lifted his hat to Iter, and she il tried to return his salutation as she 1- would any other friend, hut somehow s the warm Idood came to her eheeks and e i it-was hut a stiff and unfriendly little . Isnv that she gave him. And while I she stood thinking of it all, and woti i dering why she should he so unhappy, e 1 she heard footsteps behind Iter on the ii gravel walk, and turning, saw In. > llohertson udvaneing eagerly to greet her. Again the crimson tide flooded " her fai e, making her look very lovely • in her confusion. Hut she managed '' t ' slammer out something ahout "tiiad to-it i'you," w hen the doctor hroko in • with : s "Not half so glad as I am to see H you. I have heen to a wedding since ' I left Slaptoii, and enj >yed my holiday immensely." " Yes, 1 know." sle said ; " I saw your wife, walking with you this • j morning." " Did you, indeed?" lie said, while a 1 smile of ijuiet joy lit up Ills face. "And where were you looking when you saw her in the glu-s?" a . She looked a? him quickly, then her a eyes dropped before the i-xpri-ssion of ' his, and again the telltale blush ovi r f spread, face ami nek. " Win re did you see my wife, v Mat tie?" e •• iii tlie road," said Mattic. I.! •• N'o. that win my i ' -r," he n plied. 1 ! "In the new spaper." she urged. r " That w as my •■■ n.-in," he ixplained. "t'oine Imre. Del you look in the ' glass thii morning?" "Vis," win p red Mattie. "Tlun that's where von saw my • wife if you saw her anywhere." 1 And. of eoiirie. that settled it*; and yon all know w hat happened as well a* s ! can tell von. si iiiMim st it\ps. r If i- said t! a 1 m re rs falls on the • as' f rn than on the western sides if ' continents. ' Dr. II \ :i a- i t! tie . mm- n par row is liable to Lave smallpox 1 and is cap iMe of i immuiiii atifig that disease. ' It i' -lingesti-d bv ID rr Dm berg that tie- un may be ha ■? i h- • n the 'ide invisible from the earth, the water and the atmosphere I • ing drawn thitle r by the efTect of gravitation. At the raising of the vi * -1 La Province, sunk in tie 1! isphoriis, the telephone was added to the ordinary iquipment of the diver. One of the glasses of the helmet was replaced by a copper plate in which a telephone was insert d. and the divi r had only to turn his head slightly in order to report what he had seen or to receive instruc tions. Italian paper" announce tin- discov ery at Dorgali. in the island of Sar dinia. of a great stalactite rave. Fifteen galleries have las-n already traced. In one of them there is a row of pillars like white marine, and the floor is smooth, resembling tie- finest basalt. When ht up with torches the rombi nations and variations of coloring arc wonderfully l.< autiful. Scientifle investigations show among their latest nwults the existence of many curious lightgiving forma in the lower depths of the ocean. Of these the most wonderful is the luminous shark, a specimen of which beinjU eaptuifsl and confined in a dark room gave forth from tin* surface of itahndy and head a vivid and greenish phos phorescent light. Professor Simmons, an Knglish aeronaut, made an ascent in which lie crossed the Knglish channel. Tho balloon to"k a southeasterly direction over Morecamlie bay. but came to a standstill, and then slowly drifted back again, over the town toward the Irish sea. Simmons, heing anxious to avoid being taken over the sea, threw out the grapnel on Walrn-y island, hut It caught a stone wall and jerked the car so much that he was thrown out, hut sustained no injury. A NearH|ghtcil Horse In Spectacles, In a paper on near-sightedness rend , before tbi >' York County Medical j society, Dr. W. F. Mittendorf told of a i fine horse in Ilcrlin that became in- I tractable, and on examination proved • to hi- suffering from myopia Tho ■ owner had a pair of glasses made for i it and it became as tractable as ever. > American students, Dr. Mittendorf ; said, are nut so subject to near-sighted . ne.-a as Herman students. Sedentary occupations and want of exercise de- I velop myopia and women, therefore, , are likelier than men to contract it • It generally sets in in childhood; . rarely nppcars after twenty-one years •of age. Blindness often follows I neglect of It. Glasses should be worn . early In life to prevent Its progress. I They should he rather weak than strong, and a slight blue tint Is do | sirahle. LA HI EH' DEI'A KIM EXT. Quern Kininn of the Mitudwlch Inlnmta. The queen of the Mundwlch Island, is not only a very great favorite will the natives, but is also largely affectis by the Knglish colony. She has beet twice to England and received mud attention and many presents fron Queen Victoria. Hep one-quarter quot: I id native blood gives her the appear i unce of a brunette. She is forty-si) years old, and, like all native womer whose lives are of content and easj indolence, .ccnis to be much younger . ;!ii ii tumbles th" pictures of Victorii taken tvunt) years ago. Queen Kiiimi i-> what at an American watering-placi might be termed a "stunning" drc" -or and is |i i esse I of a mania for beiiif .photographed in dilferent costumio and attitudes. At Montano's, tin swell photogiapher of Honolulu, she i seen iii no I t than twenty-five dif ferent photographs, arid in no two id them in the same dre-s. (Jucrr Orlt hi oi a Piitiliitiri. The Austrian empress, while on n little country excursion with her usual retinue, stepped at an inn for refresh ments. D'-ing heated she t<h>k off her - bonnet and hung it on the hack of chair, where a playful puppy inad< sueli uii-rldi I with it b-forc imylmd)' attention was attraet'"l as to rend' r it unlit for further wear. Of course, every Lady in the party offered her own hat in tin- place of the one that vv.u dauint"'d, but the impress took tin whim to finish the excursion without any other h ad covering than that sup plied ly nature. Jb ing observed iii tbi< fa-hion bv soni" ladles of the sty lish who are eager to imitate anything that r yaltv d. the pru lice of ap pearing in public without bet or I n net came Into g> ni r.d vogue. Tic morning proim-iui'li-H be.-anie niarkei by the jire . hi i of nunier -us elegatitlj arrang' i le ads of hair devoid of an) covering, and on Sunday the sa?n< fashion was follow- lin ehureh. T< sue-h < xt. Nt wis th; 1- ..ming tic ra/e. S.i)"- th- Vienna 7-i./-'•/</''. t! t milliners grew alarmed, and < lam ri at < -urt al- ut it, wliereupna an i pl.Uiati ll of th eau -• of the, ;re hath s excursion was issue 1 fr'in e'fil eial sources and puidi-hi*l t . th • - -ia w..rld. This put an end t . tic- new fashion. hatmakiTs w<re happy onei more, and fashionable circles wen again at p .ice. Thr \\ omrn o ■ ijurbrr. The French Canadian people have had the rare taste r In k to kis j their surroundings in bar imny witl their character. I imagine the cit) would )• dull, or even distasteful, if it 1 drowsy and romantic spirit were re placed ly a coarser life. The w omen of Quebec are attractive by their up pe.irane • of goal liea'.th. Few of them are pretty, but many are g-- si lo. king and pha*ant. You ineetthem at almost any hour, returning fr- ni mass or confession, dn-s .si always in dark colors, and walking with a slow gait that might he taken for a sign of meditation. Their manners are unob trusive; their voices are low and pleas antly m ululated. The young women, as you brush elos-- by th< in on the nar row sidewalk, look up frankly, without either leddness <>r shyness, and pass on ■ ;t ha direct and nmdest manner. You sis- on ttie cathedral steps some ladies of tlm French type, with high-bred '•fwaturcs and a dajk complexion rich with color. Their walk, though digni fitsl, is graceful and free from haughti ness; and theft manners suggest char acters at once strong, sympathetic and dignified. Hut the most beautiful ole Jovts in Quebec are certainly the chil dren—rosy, bright and cheruliic,— Century Magazine. Fahlnn Ntlfn. New cloaks are very long. Laces of all kinla are In fashion. ! , Hide green is the popular color for ulster*. Cloth Is tho correct fabric for | pelisse*. Totirnurcs are worn, hut not uni | vorsallv. Egyptian designs are introduced in novelties. New stockings show all of the high j art color*. Quilted satin line* more cloaks than sntine or fur. Feather thistle* nppear among new bonnet trimmings. There is an effort to revive the prin ccasc style of dress. Rich Ottoman velvets~arc classed with autumn fabrics. The latest shade of yellow take* the name of "four o'clock." Chine woolen gooil* and cheviot mixtures will he much worn. There 1* no definite changes in the outline* of the dress this fall. Heavy repped rlbbans take the name of ottomAn, and * aioah.nsed. | Fur and feather hands are used foi : dress as well as cloak trimming,s. < I < licnilie fringe in lozenge pendants , make beautiful trimmings fur wraps. I Long pile plush in a great 'measure i takes tin- place of furs for cloak linings, i 1 lie new English alpacas come in i gray shades and black, with soft i finish. ■ i Metallic threads, gold, silver and steel, in tinted effects, crop out in new 1 braids. Richelieu ribbed and plain spun silk stockings are in favor for ordi -1 nary use. |, I'lain or braided cloth jackets and jerseys will lie worn with plush and ' cheviot skirts. Huff* and ru'-he* do not encircle the neck, hut are brought down low on the bosom in front, but the throat ■ i-. not left bare. The .kirts of light walking or darie | ing dresses are kept off the ground or | floor by a puff of muslin inside the hem instead of a halaveuse. Handkerciiiefs with very minute colored borders, arid th'' naine em -1 roid'-red in a color to match that of , the border, are very popular. The new .-ilk embroideries on cash mere have large figures and flowers, wheels, dai-e-i, roost, cireh -. balls and c inventionali/.i d flow r arid leaf do- I sign-. The fancy f r birds has extended ' < veu to mounting dn and the dis i agreeable fa*hi"ti i- sc'-n of a black raven perched on an English black crape b -nnet. A rifle-green velvet r sttune 1 r dered with gray fur, with h -mall muff and a smaller b >nri< t of the same vcj. vet, edged with fur, i a i'aris <1 -gn . for the coming w inter. I'laqm of braid, made of row after row - f -out :i'he wo :n<! ar undtoform a -oli-i s; t tlire i' acr-ear jd.i'-i-l all ar ami tie- arts of cloth , dre . al i on the collar, cuffs and . edge of the 1 ;-que. Htiv tr jai-kel of il 'h. trimn.'.l witli braid or with narrow -out a die, are lb" wraps to l e worn I v young -• irl- during tie aut mm Sb- rt'-rca/b-t -' !•-- I*-" with ' military < 11 ar w ill is- w>m a- parts of house dr< . 8m sth f.-lt hat and bonnets will upplant to a i-irtain <\t-nt the l" . '-r h< alw' ar. Some of the early imp 'rtalions of hat-have a tall, br ad. piarecr-wn of m ...th felt, with a 111 b rately w ide hritn of bc,iver. The wide, scpiare crown promises to ls> a feature of Iw.th hats and bonnets. "li-' Vis t . pretty should be "hort •. i tight. The t.iilleur-shujxsl waist w rn with plain lingerie is the onh style admitting a rather long sleeve. The arm size must l>e cut with great care, as it should sit well over the shoulder and not fall ujmn the upper part "f tlie arm. A ( hlld Worth ller Weight in (Jolil. A few years ago a steamer w as corn ing from California. The cry of "Fire f tire !" suddenly thrilled every heart. Every effort was made to stay the fiaini-s, but in vain. It so>.n became I evident that the ship must In- lost. The burning mas* was headed for nhore. w hleh was not far off. A passenger was sun buckling his licit of gold around bis waist, ready to plunge into, the waves. Just tic-n a pleading voire arrested him: " I'lease, sir. inn you swim?" A child's blue eyes were piercing i into his deepest soul as he looked 1 down upon her. " Yi-s, child, I ran swim." "Well, sir. won't you please savi ; me?" " I cannot do lioth," he thought. "1 must save the child and lose tin- gold. I lint a moment ago I was- anxious for t this whole ship's company; now I am doubting whether I shall exchange hu man life for paltry gold." Unbuckling the belt he east it from him and said. ■ •' Yes, little girl, I will try to save you." Stooping down he l>ade her clasp her hands around his neck. " Thus, child; not so tight as to choke me. There, hang on now, anil I will try to make land." j The child Imvvcd herself on his broad shoulders, and clung to her deliverer, j With a heart thrice strengthened and an arm thrice nerved, he struck out fot shore. Wave after wave washed over them. Still the hrave man held out, and the dear child on, until a mighty mountain billow swept the sweet i treasure from Ids embrace, and east him senseless on the bleak rocks. Kind hands ministered to him. Recovering his consciousness, the form of the deal child met his earnest gaze, liending i over hint with more than angel minis trations, and bltwdDg hita with mute but eloquent benedictions. ■■ The man who has the weaker side •if an argument always makes the moat noise. If you wont to hear a pig squeal, get hiui penned in a corner. Wt HcserTe. T, t Behind u little *ilkn mesh of tare, That hide* and yet reveal*, I aee her fare. The filmy wb doth not obrtruet my view; I With softened uracil her t>eauty ahineth through—- | Eyes Isrge and luminous, nrt lip* aglow, 1 Fair waring trowe* on a brow of niiow: 1 So many charms the little net reveal ■, f'.an there la? one, I wonder, it conceal/.? I H<>, wondering oft, a longing doth a? ail My very eoul to tear away the veil, jKo foolish! Well I know her radiant face , I* ull the lovelier for that hit of lace. it. ih hind n winning, (milling veil of pride, Intangible yet real, her heart doth hide. The militia veil no eingle gr re dutli n.ar lier truth and love nhine through, yet doth it bar ,M> tooMud.iciouiejev. Throughn eny a day I fain would tar tin torturing thing aw ay And see her miol. I will be win*. Who know*? Tie bud had bounty that the oj*n rr e Hath |/,'l for evermore; there i no r -otn For *wa <.t oon> tore o'er a roe in bloom. I'' rha| - I love la • more for that sweet I ri !'■ Behind whoso strength her loving hoArt doth hide. < irliittn 1 rrtj, m Our IT M.KN I I'A It AfiICA I'llS. flu imr.jr jar, wiio < omprtnics him •elf d..(.,s pot always have the bed of company. The fn;in who •• read..-< 1 the gr and by the h!Mlfltt font.'," -• j hi, t' t |at the i ■it of a lii i;i!"< ktf . Women are never ■ ;.,r I,find that they caii t see tin- make-up ■ ' a new Iron net passing along liftyfeet away. It i* s'at-il that they hav • < mtinilg-nt two fc< t I dig in K'-ntueky, 1 .t they <lo noj say how long they have the colic. Ay. ing lady attending l,dl, and I partial should always secure a ■ hajwTofi until ;li .•a: . t. t ..1! ; U ( male Chap her own. " I wouldn'tmarry the bcrt man living," !,c said. And *l.e kept her vow from the find; Bat ' e did not hv> to die an old maiJ, i r .i-i. rind <: •• of ti, vorl. An. di d matter: An oil lady, hearing that .1- hn Itr.g't < nt ■ ; ,plav I visiting t his country, h>] 1 tu.it h< v, ildn't bring h;- "disease" witl him. Tl e name "fa mwbmk is •• B.vh<- lors arid Butterflies," It is nt until tie ha'h'l rs got married and g" to le -iseko. ping ti it they find out how tile butter lie Lightning struck a Nevada man the other day while lie wis sw< arilig. It would, however, take. a mighty smart stroke of lightning to hit a Nevada man when In i* not sw< iringe t>ail Hamilton says a woman may nave be, n originally one step in ad vance of man in evil doing, hut he v. ry .von caught up with her. never again to la)sir under a similar disad \ ant age. Volatile friend—-" Halb! What's the matter, old man? Toothache? Tut-t-t-t! Have it out! If it was mine I'd have—" Sufferer—"lf it was yours! Yes, ao would I!" (Exit groaning.) Alt old La r heb>r leaving his l>oarding- Jiouse for a week's journey, aft.r taking j leave of his landlady. sti-]ijH*l up t > a salt mackerel on the table, shook him by the tail, and said : " Uod-l>ye, old fellow. I will sis- you wlien I return." "Yea/* he said. "I'll have the plumber come to the house to-lay. Not that there's any trouble with the drain j age. but our cook is sort of discontented and we don't w ant her to leave, and mayle being courted for four hours will make her less restless." Madame B. is a charming person, but age will arrive, and she was recently obliged to use glasses, fine day a visitor surprised her. " You see," said she, "that I have ha.) to come to it and use glas-es." "Exactly," replied the gallant gentleman, " a spark defender." " The illuminated buoy is a wonder ful invention," read old Mrs. Pinaphor in Iter daily paper. " Well." she ol served, "1 should Wiiuk hs-was. AiKl it is an exesdlent We*, too. for if the boy is illuminated his mother will have less trouble finding him alter dark." * > f A Live Salamander. A sti a;per from the drient limught to San Francisco a remarkable curb *tt v in the shape of a live salamander, which is mw confined in a large wooden trough and daily supplied with fresh water and live Ah at the Palace lintel. The salamander comes from Japan, and was captured fa a fresh water lake in the mountain*. The specimen is three and a half feet in length, has four feet and an extensive tail, the head being broad and flat and shaped like a heart, and the eyes so small as to be hardly discernible. The mouth is not unlike that of the croco dile, and the novel guest at the hotel is known to be at least seven years old. It is dark brown in color, the epider mis being covered with excrescences, which are watery glands, secreting an acrid, viscid fluid. *
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers