Newspaper Page Text
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rvrninxx roil Tin dispatch.!
LBEETA was the de-
jjligbt of her parents
land all the neighbors
Jwho knew her. She
was only a little girl,
1 but she nevertheless
1 made herself very use
ful everywhere. In
the kitchen or the
parlor, in the yard or
on the attic, little Al
berta was her moth
er's right hand. Thus
i t happened that
Bobby, was very fond
But Robert was. a
bad boy.whom nobody
liked. The ladies
would walk around
another street if they
saw him in the dis
tance, little children
would cry 'or their parents if he approached
them, and the hoys who werebigger than he
would not allow him to play with them, be
cause he was such a very bad boy. It was
said by his mother even, that Robart would
lay awake on his bed all night thinking
about some new trick or some fresh mischief
which he intended to perpetrate upon the
people of the neighborhood the next day.
Kow, of all the children, Robert knew
tnere was not one whom he disliked so much
as little Alberta. He hated her lor her very
goodness. "Whenever his mother caught
him doing something bad and she caught
him pretty often then she would say:
"Why don't you take an example by little
Alberta? Look what a good child she is!"
Robert had heard that advice so often that
he had made up his mind a good many
times Alberta should be killed, no matter
what tbe consequences might be. But verv
fortunately for the little mite no opportuni
ty had ret presented itseli to the bad Rob
ert, and Alberta grew up a very fine girl,
more and more beloved by all" who knew
However, the boy had Dot foirotten his
anger and he had sworn to get even with
her for her goodness, no matter how long it
would take him. At last his day came
around. Alberta sat out on the veranda
one afternoon busily employed making a
new dress lor her doll, and she had her
mind so thoroughly fixed upon the little
frock that she never looked up to see what
was going on around her. Here Robert had
espied her, and he at once realized that now
or never would be his opportunity.' His
plan of action had long been ready in his
mind, and be immediately proceeded toward
its execution. Some time ago he had.
bought a very large firecracker and he had
made up his mind to blow the little girl up
and kill her In that manner. When le
noticed her sitting quietly on tbe porch he
took his firecracker and walking quietly
behind her he put the deadly missile under
her chair. Then he took a match, lighted
it and applied it to the luse. Oi course he
quickly jumped away behind a tree to
watch tbe cracker go off, but it didn't. So
he lit another match, because he thought
the fuse had not canght the first time. But
as soon as be cjrne near enough with his
finger, behold! the cracker exploded and
Aiberia and also Robert, went both up into
It was a terrific concussion, and the effect
Hobby IAghl the Cracker.
of the shock carried the two childrenmiles
and miles away, until at last they alighted
on a beauti'ul hland in the middle of the
sea But, wonderful as it may seem, neither
of them was hurt. When Alberta fell on
the ground she looked around in great as
tonishment, and when she observed Robert
not far from her, she said:
"Bobbv, where are we and how did we
get here?" But the bad boy was so mad
tnat his plan had taken sncli an unforseen
ending that he would not say a wordto the
little girl. So she asked him again and
again, but Robert was as stubborn as before,
and in his anger he went away Irora her,
and he ran deeper and deeper into the
island, leaving Alberta to take care of her
self as best she might
The poor little lady very soon became
awfullv frightened in her loneliness, and
when she began to think of her mother and
father at home and how they would be
looking for her, then the tear began to
gather in her eyes, and they rolled down her
cheeks like pearls.
The island on which Alberta now was,
was a very beautiful place. Trees and
flowers, grass and fruit, abounded every
where, and had it not been that the oor
child lclt so lonely she might have been
quite happy. But she was always thinking
of home and friends, and her grief seemed
to have no end. After the bad Bobby had
left her, Alberta got up from tbe ground,
too. She started to walk deeper into the
island, hoping that she might find some
human being or a house where she might
rest for the night. She also hoped to find
out where she was and how to get back
again to her home.
She walked and walked for miles and
miles. The sun had already disappeared
below the horizon; the evening came and
with it a deep darkness settled over the
entire island. Alberta was now walking
through a wood and her heart began to
beat very loudly with lear and anguish.
"It I could find a place of rest for this
night," she said; "I am so tired and so
very hungry. Oh 1 my dear mother and
my dear father, I wish I were at home with
Thus she cried out in sorrow and despair
for a lone time, but at last help seemed to
be near. As she followed her road through
the wood she suddenly noticed a small light
in the distance. ' Thinking somebody
lbed there the little girl hurried
her steps as fast as she could. At
last she arrived at a little stone house.
Alberta went up to the window and looking
through the pane of glass she noticed a tiny
little ladv in the room. She was a lunny
looking creature. Only about a foot and a
half high, the woman looking nevertheless
as old as the oldest woman you ever saw.
Her face was all shriveled up with age.
She did not seem to have any teeth in her
mouth and her nose was so long that it
nearly touched her chin. The old ladv was
evidently not a very good walker, becanse
as she moved along through the room she
had always a big stick in her "hand which
acoj y I
rJSC? r I
' U a T ;eAir
she used as a crutch. Alberta was for a
moment afraid and she hesitated to make
herself heard, but upon looking around into
the little room once more she noticed bad
Bobby sitting in one corner. This reassured
her and she tapped lightly at the window.
"Come in, my dear, come in!" was the an
swer Alberta beard at once aftel she had
knocked at the window. "Come in, I have
waited for you quite awhile."
"Then the door was pushed open, the
little old lady came out, and, taking the
girl by the hand, she led her into tbe room.
"When she had brought Alberta under the
glare of tho lamplight and looked at her all
over she turned around to Bobby.
"Do vou see the red eyes, you nasty boy,"
she said to him; "do you notice that the
poor thing has been crying nearly her eyes
out, because she is away from home. "What
had the child ever done to yon that you
should want to kill her? But wait, you
will get your reward. You never expected
that the cracker might blow yon up as well
as her, did you? You dug a grave lor others
and buried yoursilf in it. That is right,
and how it should be. Now mind you, we
will teach vou how to behave yourself in
Bobby never said a word, but he did not
look atr'aid of the old lady: in fact, he
seemed to be quite defiant in his manner. Soon
after she told htm to go to bed, and showing
him Into a smaller room at the rear of the
house, Bobby was sent in there and the door
loeked behind him.
The next morning Alberta got up as soon as
the sun rose over the trees, and she at once be
can to work around tbe place. She swept tbo
room, cleaned the windows, lit tne tire, and
then she cooked the breakfast. When all was
done tbe little old Udy came skipping Into tbe
room, and she expressed herself very much de
lighted with all the little girl had done.
"Sow call the bad boy, Bobby!" said tho old
woman to Alberta, and when tbe little girl
opened tbe door what should come out of the
place but a canary bird.
"There is our Bobby, with wings and all," the
old lady said. "Now we will see what he can
do. Come here. If you please, birdie." The
canary obeyed at once, and the old lady picked
him up from the floor.
"If you are a good bird we may change onr
mind and forgive you for all you have done,"
sbe said. "But there, fly around until we see."
When Alberta noticed tbe canary bird, and
she beard that it was Bobby, sbe felt sorry for
"Do forgive him and make him a boy again,"
sbe begged. "Maybe be will improve and be a
"No! I will not, I will put him In a cage for
a year and see what I can do with him." But
before tbe woman could get hold of Bobby, tbe
canary bird, tbe latter had flown out of the
window and he was not heard or seen any
Alberta, however, made herself very useful
to tbe ladv of the little stone bouse, and the
two cot along very well together. They stayed
in the little bouse in this manner tor a whole
year, and during that time Albertahad become
a very beautiful young ladr. But during all
tbe time she often wished that she might re
turn again to bcr father and mother, and often
and otten she had begged the old lady to let
ber go. So one day. it was just 12 months after
tbe night when Alberta arrived on tbe island,
she begged the old lady again to let her return
borne to her parents.
"All right!-' the little woman said. "You
shall go; bnt first take this shawl and go with
it to the brooE and wash it as clean as vou
Alberta did as sbe was told, and when she
had washed tbe shanl and made it look as
white as snow sbe returned to the little house,
but, behold, there w as nothing there but a bare
place. The houe had disappeared from tho
earth, bnt the little lady stood there.
"Now, put the shawl around you and then
lift me on your arm,' sbe said to Alberta, and
no sooner had sbe done so than she flt herself
lifted off the ground ar.d earned through the
air. Tbey did not flv very long when Alberta
felt she was touching tbe ground again, and as
she looked around she recognized ber home.
There were her parents and friends and every
body sbe had known long ago, still alive, and
when thev saw Alberta everybody was' pleased,
becaue they bad missed ber so very much.
Tbe little old ladv stayed with Alberta, and
she did her a great deal of good. Whatever Al
berta wanted to do it was done bv tbe little old
'lady, and everjbody knew that she was a fairy,
ueuause uououy eise comu uave uone wnai sne
did. If Alberta wanted anew dress for herself
or doll the fairy would get it for her, and what
ever she gave it was all so beautiful and costly
that everybody felt sure it must come from
fairyland, because such things could not be
bought on this eartb.
However, with all the fortune which had be
fallen Alberta for her goodness and kindness,
still she was not entirely happy. Sometimes
she wonld think ab"ut the bad bov Bobby, and
sb6 wished that be would come borne again.
"Of course he was a bad boy," sbe would say
to the fairy, "but think of his mother. lam
sure she would like to have him hack again.
He is her son. ) ou know."
Thus Bbe persuaded tbe fairy at last, and the
little old lady, after sbe bad disappeared once
for two das. came back with a canary bird in
a golden caw.
"Here is Robert," she said to Alberta. "Now
if he will promise to be a good boy in tbe fu
ture we will let bim off and change bis form
again. Please speak to him."
Then Alberta asked Robert whether be
wished to mend bis ways, and Robert prom
ised. So the fairy changed him again into a
boy, and Bobby aid really improve, and be be
came a very useful man as he grew older and
wiser, and the fairy made him also rich and
A KINGFISHER DROWNS A SNIPE.
Two Old Enemies Meet Near the Paasale
nnd the Weaker gneenmba.
Kingfishers are rather common along the
wooded banks of the Passaic river from tbe
outskirts of Newark to the bridge at Avondale.
The better kinds of fish have forsaken the
loner waters of the Passaic or have been poi
soned by them long ago, but plenty of eels.
roach, sunfish. and "killies" remain, and the
kingfishers fare sumptuously every day. They
are aggressive birds, and even the hawk does
not care to riik a battle with one of tbem.
Snipe, too, though very scarce now, occasion
ally flit np the river. The kingfisher has an in
corrigible hatred of tbe snipe, and tbo snipe's
aversion to tbe kingfisher is equally pro
nounced. On Wednesday afternoon some young men
who were bathing in the Pasaic opposite the
upper part of Belleville, saw a snipe winging
its way up tbe river. It was not in a hurry, and
it was taking tne usual zigzag course familiar
to every sportsman. While tbe bathers were
watching the snipe a kingfisher darted swiftly
from a mossy bank close by, and started in pur
suit of the snipe. Tbe snipe did not see its
enemy, and the first intimation it had of his
presence was a violent blow on tbe bark. The
bird fell, with a shrill, piping cry, Into the
Tbe snipe is not a swimmer. Most diction
aries accurately call it "a wading bird." It
never goes beyond its depth if it can belp it.
This one fluttered for a moment on the surface
of the river, and then struggled out. Ordinarily
it could have flown faster than tbe kingfisher,
but tbe weight of its wet plumage handicapped
it, and before it bad traveled many yards the
larger bird pounced upon it again and immersed
It as before. This was repeated several times,
the snipe's cry growing feebler at each enforced
plunge. At last it could rise no more, and lay
where it bad fallen. Then tbe kingfisher seized
It In bis lone bill, and, skimming cloe to tbe
turfacp, dragged tbe luckless snipe through
tbe water until It was satisfied It was drowned,
when he released tbe body and flew rapidly to
tbe opposite bank.
Alberta Find the Home of the Fairy.
A., i V ir '
'7- i i V '3iI ."".'" '
HOW TIJDDE DRESSES
E. Berry Wall Gives His Fellow Man
a Few Pointers On
DRESSING LIKE A GENTLEMAN.
Ridiculous Imitations of English
AMERICAN TAILORS AS GOOD AS AN!
rcoBitxsrojrorscE or Tin dispatch.:
'New Yokk, July 12. To dress well may
not be the chief end of man, but the charac
ter of his attire certainly has a great influ
ence on his fate in life. I never could un
derstand why anyone should despise dress.
That certainly is an affectation. If I am
wrong in that statement, then surely the un
clad savage is right. If I were to limit my
personal adornment to a breech-clout I
would be escorted to either a police station
or a mad house. Well, then, doesn't it
stand to reason that if to dress is good, to
dress well is better, and to dress properly is
best? Men may say what they please, and
laugh at what they please, and sneer at
what they please in this matter, but the man
who does not aim at perfection in dress, ac
cording to bis understanding ol it, is a rare
exception and not the rule. Of course a
man's views in this particular vary accord
ing to his position in life and the education
of his surroundings.
Buffalo Bill is one of the best-dressed men
I ever saw, yet. when he walks along Broad
way, all stare nnd some lauh at his wide
brimmed hat and the long, curling hair be
neath. Yet he has reached perfection in
dress, according to the manner of the people
he has longest been associated with, hut
for a New Yorker to wear such an attire
would be as ridiculous and as censurable as
for a hod-carrier to mount his ladder dressed
in a swallow-tailed coat.
TEnFECTIOX TS DBESS.
If to aim at perfection in dress is right
for woman and wrong for man, then the hid
eous garb ot the Quaker must be commend
able, and we should accept it. Yet, show
ing which way man's thoughts naturally
tend, I have met members of that dress
scorning sect who were extremely solicitous
with their tailor that their coats should be
of the finest broadcloth and of the true
shad-bellied cut, and who would not wear a
hat a fraction of an inch less or larger in
its rim than is required by the perfection of
Horace Greeley wore a shockingly bad
white hat, and no one jeered at it, because
he was a distinguished man, and that hat
became distinctively a part of his attire.
That was the Greeley perfection in dress. It
applied to him alone. To a certain extent
it was an affectation. But if you or I wore
oue like it we would be hooted at, and de
I don't imagine that I am better qualified
than another to declare what constitutes per
fection in diess, but I think that, among
gentlemen, there will be no dissent lrom the
THE BEST ATTIBED MAN
is he who dresses with quiet elegance and
whose apparel does not instantly catch the
eye by some glaring detail. Bight here I
wish to say a few words upon a subject
which 1 don't clearly understand, and that is
what ismeantby the mucb-used word "dude."
1 don't know bow it arose, and it is so vari
ously used that I am at an utter loss to com
prehend its meaning. So far as my observa
tion goes. It appears to be most generally ap
Ellcd to very young men, who wear very small
ats and very large and very loud clothing,
and who are never without canes as thick as
themselves. This class ot youths are without
exception tbe worst dressed persons who dis
figure Broadway. The laughable negro swell
of Sixth avenue Is far better dressed than
these, because he simply gives vent to bis
hereditary barbaric desire for flashing1 colors,
and according to tbe views ot bis people he
has really reached perfection in dress.
But the Broadway youths to whom I bave
referred and who are chiefly clerks in the
large retail drygoods shops are only servile
imitators, and they don't even imitate what
thev attempt to. Thev seek to pattern after
tbelatest English styles, but they are bliss
fully ignorant of the fact that tbe loud dress
which they mimic is not worn by tbe English
gentlemen, and only by the English cockney.
If we wish to borrow any excellence pos
sessed by our neighbor we should do it intelli
gently and use it intelligently. But I do not
blame the ignorance of the deluded cockney
imitators so much when I see both coachman
and footman atop some of tbe most snlish car
riages on Fifth avenue wearing cockades at
onesideof their hats. Tbe custom is borrowed
from London, but how laughable it must seem
to the Englishman wnn knows that the cock
ade is only worn in England by the servants of
noblemen who bold positions in either the army
or tbe navy.
Equally ridiculous was our our young men
taking up a few years ago tbe English fashion
of not wearing gloves in a ballroom. As every
one knows, 1 suppose, the custom bad its origin
in the tact that the Prince of Wales upon one
occasion when attending a public reception,
through an oversight, brought no gloves with
him. The gentlemen In attendance upon him,
with what was certainly thongbtful courtesy to
their prospective King, removed their gloves
Others imitated tbe example. Thus a new
fashion bad its birth but it was an unthinking
and unmeaning imitation which introduced
what is really a boorish custom among the
young men of this country. It waslong a mat
ter of surprise to me tbat tho fashionable
women of America did not assemble in mass
meeting and Indignantly vow not to whirl in
the waltz with any man who wonld place a hot,
uncovered band upon the delicate labric of an
evening costume. I am glad to see that there
"has at last been a revolution in this matter, and
tbat now men who observe tbe best form glove
their bands at balls and receptions.
CHEAP ENGLISH TAILOBS.
AH this talk about London fads brings to my
mind the much-discussed question of English
clothing; rather the question of its cheapness
as compared with the work of American tail
ors. I know many men wbo will not wear any
but London-made garments, contending that
their fit is superior, and I bave heard many nar
rate bow they have purchased clothing in Lon
don for from one-third to one-fourtb tbe price
which would be charged them by a Fifth ave
nue tailor. The first is a misconception, and
the second a misrepresentation. Our fashiona
ble tailors are equal in skill to their English
brethren, and tbe man wbo buys his clothing
in London for one-fourth of what it cost him
here, is laboring under the delusion that every
tailor in tbe British capital is a maker of fine
attire. Tbe fact is that he has walked into
some London establishment which ranks as
high as a Bowery clothier in New York, and
has bougbt a lot of cheap goods for a slight de
crease below Bowery prices.
It must be confessed, bowever, that the finest
English clothing, made by such men as Poole,
Whitaker and Hill, can be bought for about
40 per cent lower than the same grade of goous
in this city. Practical experience has taught
me that a dress suit which here would cost 110,
will be made by Poole for SoO, and that the
latter will charge $10 for a pair of trousers
which a fashionable New York tailor would
demand $18 for. That is about the relative
range ol prices. There is not near so much
difference in hats and shoes.
MONEY TALKS ETEBYWHEEE.
There is much foolish talk indulged in con
cerning these same English tailors. I have
heard it stated, and seen it printed that tbey
will not make clothing even for cash for any
one who does not bring a letter of introduction
from some distinguished customer of theirs;
that, in fact, they will not accept tbe patron
age of anyone who tenders cash payments, such
persons being considered mercenarily vulgar.
This is all nonsense. True, they are much more
lenient than their American brethren in tbe
muter of credit. All tbe fashionable English
tailors give at least one year credit. But
money talks the world over, and tbe men wbo
offer cash to Poole, are not only heartily wel
comed, but are given 15 per cent discount on
their bill, and in addition to this, bear in mind
that by cash Is meant 30 days' credit.
The English tailor must for years, I Imagine,
be a factor in our lives, for, shake your beads
though you may, our dress customs come
throutrh bis bands. No American tailor has
ever bad the audacity to suggest anything dis
tinctive for American dress. All ot bis craft
wait for tbe English plates be Tore putting
shears into cloth. Of course, in these days of
onlet dressing, the chances in the styles of
clothing from one season to another are almost
undtscernible and are chiefly due to the tailor's
determination to keep men or farhion continu
ally purchasing new garb, whether needed or
nut. We don't go to Paris for our fashions I
men tbe men don't because tbe French are
too flashy, too pronounced, too theatrical In
their styles. They have the same fault our
actors have, and for tbat same reason men of
tb stage are, as Ja. rule, the worst-dressed
- - - h. TjJ-
. - - rf. .-- ' sy.ii?-
promenaoers on croaaway. iney ion
walking advertisements of their profession. I
don't include In this criticism such quietlv at
tired actors as Booth and Jefferson and Flor
ence, but the exceptions to the rule are few.
They and everyone else should bear in mind
tbat an exaggerated fashion is no fashion at
all. E. Debet Wall.
IN Atf ANCIENT CITY.
Palace of the President of Mexico The
Government Pawnshop A Mexican
Funeral Typical Street Scene
A Street Mountebank.
I CORRESPONDENCE Or TUX DISPATCH. 1
City of Mexico. July 1. To-day I
found myselt under the shadow of tbe Presif
dent's palace. The Deacon tells me tnat
this ground, as well as that occupied by the
palace, was bestowed by Montezuma upon
his guest, Cortes, and that it remained in
the famiiyof the voluntary donee for sev
eral centuries. It was gratifying to find
something which that redoubtable freebooter
had not stolen, but condescended to accept.
Tbo Deacon tells me also that the historian, in
treating ot this miraculously born Individual,
says: "As he developed somewhat of archness
and duplicity, he was deemed best fitted for
the profession of tho law." Certainly he satis
fied the forecast of his progenitors, although
he found it essential to abandon the law that
he might become successful In villainy. From
the site of this palace Montezuma was accus
tomed to take M boat for Chapultepec. We
traversed the route in a street car.
Crossing tbe street and winding in and out
among the peddlers. I find myself in the
shadow of the colonnade along the south side
of the plaza. The rags, the dirt and the odors
are here, but there is some relief in tbe colors.
The stores aro devoted principally to drygoods
and other wares affected by the black-eyed,
black-garmented, veil-decked maids and
matrons. There are several second-band book
stalls in tbe shadow of the Refugio, and there
are treasures here, no doubt, if one were
Wandering on until opposite the Cathedral,
one encounters a sentinel or two, and looking
up. discovers tbo sign of the Government
pawn shop. I have beard of it; it is set down
as one of the places to visit, but it looks like a
very ordinary establishment for the display of
second-band goods. It is curious, perhaps, in
that it Is fostered by the Government. The
file of showcases, with all sort of jewelry,
from the plated scarf pin to diamonds, has
attractions for certain of the natives, wbo line
the long row from end to end. 1 bey seem to
find an interest in gazing at the mementoes of
disappointed vanity and hopes, eager for the
trinkets which, if acquired, will surely work
their way back to these quarters, as they did
from the original owners. These relics of a
petty grandeur that has been kicked by pov
erty and has gone to seed, do not inspire one
with pleasant emotions, and I walk out to tbe
shelter of tbe trees in the Cathedral park and
for a sight of tbe flower market.
The discordant strains ot the wildest collec
tion of musical instruments that ever de
lighted tbe soul of a barbarian, mingle with tbe
otber noises of the plaza while I am enjoying
A MEXICAN FUNERAL.
Looking round I' discovered a Mexican
funeral. First came four cargadores bearing
the remains; one of these fellows staggers fear
fully, either through exhaustion or tbe effects
of pulque, and I expect each moment to see
him slip from under his share of the burden
and the precious remains spilled in the street.
A man bearing a rod banner comes next, then
a straggling mob of SO tatterdemalions, one of
whom bears upon his back a xjolly legless
brother, and then follows tha band, every fel
low blowing, scraping or ponnding away as bis
individual taste dictates. The prime object
seemed to be to make as much noise as possi
ble. Tbe rabble that constituted tbe array
were pleasantly hilarious rather than serious,
but eacb one who possessed a sombrero doffed
it as be passed the Cathedral. Uad it not been
for the coffin on the shoulders of tbe porters I
should bave concluded tbat a beggars' carnival
was in progress. Tbe street cars are usually
brought into service on these occasions, and
why this was made an exception I did not
learn. Tbe heirs of the deceased may bave
been too poor to adopt tbe prevailing method,
or it may bave been a resort to the original
order, growing out of the reverence for ancient
customs. The Mexican does not come out of
tbe rut trodden by his ancestors If he can possi
bly help it.
The funeral moving out of sight I return by
the colonnade on the west and. avoiding the
market, reach the portal of the botel to natch
the wayfarers. A young Mexican on a sleek
pony rides np and baits near by; his saddle is
gorgeous in silver, his feet incased in patent
leatber shoes, bis trousers, with a silver stripe
down eacb leg, are not new, but bis sombrero
might be worth $50. An urchin with an empty
basket banging on hishead as naturally as any
American lad would wear It. seeing a medio
real in siirbt steps up briskly: tbe young man
leaves the pony in his charge. When the
owner comes out be adds to tbe lad's reward,
and does it pleasantly, so tbat another bappy
smile lights up bis face. I notice, too, among
these passengers something like an exhibition
of regard for each other; there is no jostling
and good-natured salutations are exchanged
until one wonders If all this mass of humanity
Is made up of common acquaintances, whether
it is tne sympathy of poverty or a general ami
ability. Perhaps all these elements may be
credited with helping to make up the cheerful
A STBEET MOUNTEBANK.
Coming from tbo pulque shops on the oppo
site corner is a rather rough looking citizen,
bareheaded and gesticulating earnestly while
he talks to himself. Seeing me he evidently
.concludes that I am in quest of something in
his power to bestow upon me. He stops and
begins to entertain me with a speech. I cannot
very well respond, and be takes my silence as a
sign of resignation and warms up with his sub
ject. Some of tbe passersby become interested
and stop, so that soon we have quite in assem
blage. At times I fancy tbat the orator, who
continues to make me the special object of bis
remarks, is becoming violently personal; be
cleaves tne air witn tnreatenlng gestures and 1
find myself looking bim in the eye. The po
liceman on tho corner is favoring our locality
with an occasional glance. At an exclamation
a little more vehement than any of its prede
cessors I detect smiles on tbe swarthy faces
about us and am impressed with the belief tbat
I am being complimented. Tbe landlord puts
in an appearance at this juncture, ana, listen
ing for a moment, says a lew words to my en
tertainer, w ho then insists on embracing me,
but contents himself with offering to shake
hands and going away finally ungratifled. Did
the landlord know what tbo man was talking
about? The man was drunk. I was fully
aware of it, but what was be talking about?
He was welcoming me to Mexico, offering me
tbe free run ot the city and himself as tbe most
obliging of hosts. L. B. FRANCE.
COMMON SENSE IN DIET.
May Survive Yontbfal Goreln,' but
Beware in Vonr Old Age.
There is in human nature infinite diversity
of power and endurance in the general and
nervous energy, and in digestion and assimila
tion; and a man of bigb-strung nervous tem
perament, bearing a temperance orator de
scribing the effects of alcohol, might cap it all
by similar effects of tea, "tbe cod tbat cheers
and not inebriates." Even the faculty seldom
appear to recognize the injurious results of
this refreshing beverage. The poet Cowper
seems to bave been, its slave and victim. Coler
idge abused its use and took to laudanum. Tbe
"English opium eater" well describes IK bad
results. The Chinese as a nation are tea-drinkers
and addicted to the other subtle drutr. Tbe
alternation of excitement and depression In
tbe votarie of tea Is evidence of its unsuita
bllity for many people as a stimulant. Melan
cholia and religious mania are often to be
traced to its habitual nse.
Tbe question of tbe use of any kind of food,
stimulating or otherwise, is entirely personal.
To say that becanse one man is injured by ex
cess another man should perfectly abstain is
most absurd. Probablv more men are injured
by excessive eating than by excess in alcohol;
and we are therefore bound, for the encourage
ment and aid of those who need conversion
from excess, to cease to eat at all of things well
flavored! To say that those who are not in
lured sbould abstain is but to make a law with-
L out tbe due preamble. Men vary, not from one
another only, Dnt tbey diner from themselves
in different circumstances and at various
periods of life. There is no absolute rule re
specting any food or drink for all men; one man
is not to be controlled by otber men In bis
entirely and strictly personal affairs,
but each man is to be "lnlly persuadel
in his own mind." Each mind, bowever,
should be open to persuasion; nnd persuasion
In tbe question of habitual food should be dis
tinctly of an experimental sort Each man is
provided with intelligence for his own preser
vation; but tbe pity is that men neglect this
Iirecions gift of individual mind In their pecu
lar concerns. Tbey do as others do. They eat
and drink with freedom while they are so young
and active tbat tbe system overcomes tbe inju
rious attack; but as men advance a little
further into life, and are not quite so aeilc.
then begin the troubles that tea, coffee, alcohol
and many kinds oi even simple food and stimu
lants and condiments inflict upon the careless
and tbe inconsiderate, as well as on tbe intem
perate and immoderate consumer. Each man
sbould discover for himself what, and how
much, and when to eat and drink, at several
periods, and in the varied condttions of his
life; his organism must be recognized by Its
possessor as a healthy, lite-long study and a
happy care. . -
AT AN IRISH FAIR,
Where Scenes of Confusion, Courting
Pan and Frolic Abound.
THE ONSLAUGHT BT THE BUYERS
Gallantly, Eesisted by the Sellers ana Their
HUM0E0P IRISH WEDDINGS AND WAKES
From our Traveling Commissioner.'!
Athlone, Ibeland, July 1. For the
purposes of illustration there is as little dif
ference between the Irish fair and the Irish
market day as there could be found between
"a rale drop of the right sort" and "a drop
of the rale right sort," which from time im
memorial has been inseparable from the
proper conduct of either. The actual differ
ence is this: The Irish fair, whether held
at the little village in Donegal or Kerry, or
attended by thousands, as at Ballinasloe,
Athlone, Cork, Belfast or Dublin, is an at
iair for the display and sale of animals only
horses, cattle, asses, pigs, sheep, coats,
and occasionally poultry. Perhaps 80 Irish
towns and cities hold from one to four lairs
each year. Some are for the sale of one
class of animals only of hogs, as at Lim
erick or Athlone; of cattle, as at Ballinas
loe; of horses, as at probably the greatest
annual horse fair in the world, tbat of Dub
lin; or as at Cushendun, for the exclusive
sale of the noted Cushendal ponies, bred ou
the heathery mountains of Antrim, over
looking the weird and stormy Irish Sea.
But at most of the Irish fairs all animals
bred in Ireland are exposed for sale; at
many others farm products may be found;
while the great butter fairs of Cork would
almost give one the notion- that half the
world's butter was made in the suuny vales
of Ireland's South.
The market day, on the other hand, is a
universal and interminable affair. Hardly
a day has passed in my nearly a year in
Ireland when I have not come upon some
town or village in my trampings where the
fair or the market was in full progress.
OOINO TO THE FAIK.
"Whatever trifle the tenant family may
have lor disposal ou market or fair day, the
entire family accompanies it. The old
mountain-but of a cart is got out and spar
ingly greased the night belore; the ragged
donkey or illy kept horse is given an extra
portion of food and additional combing and
scraping, that his old bones may gain new
luster; and long before daybreak, from
mountain boreen and mist-hidden valley,
chattering groups begin moving toward the
village. "The childer dear" are stowed
away alongside the pigs, ducks, chickens or
vegetables, for the common excitement has
kept them awake all night; and now, over
the stoniest of Irish roads, they are "slapein'
rings around their swate selves;" the youths
may be trudging hopefully alongside; but
the "ould woman" and "ould man" are ever
found lovingly humped together upon the
only seatthe cart affords, often agreeably
exchanging puffs from the same comfort
ing pipe. But step with me here beside the
way near the town, and see the motley crew
constantly augmented in number lrom every
by-way lane and intersecting road. "What a
queer, kindly lot they are. Here are "the
byes," edging along in concentric groups,
settling questions of neighborhood moment
in tremendous though friendly harangue
and dispute. Every manner of cart drawn
by every manner ot animal, but chiefly by
rebellious donkeys, and all piled with every
manner of Irish produce and humans, clat
ter and rattle through the misty morning
carts with sheep bleating piteously, with
geese craning their necks in viciouslv
hissed interrogation; with goats and kids
lamenting in pathetic altos and trebles;
with pigs springing on all-Tours from side
to side while snorting violent protest and
surprise; and you will notice, as you .must
all over Ireland, that the Irish pig roasts a
pink in color-that vies with the most radi
ant flush of the rarest sea-shell. All along
the way are old men, humped and severe,
admitting and protesting in ethics and poli
tics with other calm old men who argue, a
priori, in the blandest and most convincing
SWEET IRISH LASSIES.
There are maidens, too, straight as a
Croagh Patrick fir, glancing with those
entrancing Irish eyes, smiling with those
ruby Irish lips, and setting the lads wild
with that most delicious of all rhodomontade,
the lovable blarney of the musical Irish
tongue; while the great packages of yarn
they carry without effort would break an
American woman's back completely. Not
far irom them ever are tbe old, old women
with braideeu-covered baskets on their
backs. These contaiu a few cones of butter,
a brace of fowls may be, a dozen or so eggs,
or any other product of the holding or their
labor that may "bring a few pence the day;"
but old or young, they are knitting away
vigorously in time to step and gossip; and
all still, old or young, with their shoes slung
across their shoulders, or hidden in the
baskets; lor they are saving them until the
edge ot the village is reached, where a
biuah from a wip of dewy grass will make
mem snine irom meir late greasing, sou
their owners will walk proudly into the fair
with their shapely leet hidden from the
gaze of men, in brogans that
"Wudhana an insulter.
Or bato a deal table.
With murtberin' power
While their owners wor abler
It iscatch-as-catch-can at an Irish market,
or fair. Tbe first upon the ground is best
served as to location. At the village mar
ket there is no attempt at system or arrange
ment; and the market place itself is never a
covered structure, but simplya large walled
inclosure along the principal street, with
gates like a castle, with walls ol enormous
height and thickness as though attacks
from battering rams were apprehended, and
usually it is surrounded, at least on three
sides, by the quaintest structures, village
home,inns, groggenes and shops,furnishing
as picturesque scenes as the excited groups
within the inclosure. Prom the market
gates there extend in every direction tempo
rary avenues lormed by carts ranged side by
side with their backs to the way, and the
constant crowds coming and going with the
large numbers belonging to each cart, all
engaged In heated arguments over values,
make much good natured squeezing sqd push
ing as a matterof necessity. There are seldom
inner indosures. Cattle are herded againsttbe
walls at one point; asses at another; pigs on
foot, kept gently moving in circles by the still
ful use of their drivers' long ah pikes, will be
massed at another point; goats and sheep, both
extraordinarily combative by the enforced as
sociation at still another: while all manner of
lollipop sellers and brave voiced market amuse
ment purveyors are huddled together In any
extra space that may be found.
ATTACHING AND BETULSING.
For the first hour or two of tbe morning the
sale of the small truck, such as butter, eggs,
poultry and vegetables, proceeds merrily
enough; but tbe attitude of buyer and seller
of whole cartloads of potatoes and of all ani
mals, is amnsing indeed. Bevies of buyers for
tbe ljubltn and London markets, men of gigan
tic stature with red. puffy faces, and great
coats hanging over top-boots to their heels,
each carrying a whip oi tremendous length,
will saunter in, take a hasty run about tho
place, sbrugzing their shoulders as if nothing
worth their attention bad been seen, and finally
hastily depart. Tbe while the Irish yeomen,
with folded arms, and nose in air expressive of
fine scorn, bid them all a cheerful defiance in
ludicrous attempts to appear unconscious of
their presence. These- double pretenses may
proceed until noon, with now and then a bar
gain struck on tbe sly; but the entire populace
at tbe market are on tbe alert for the seduc
tive wiles of the buyer, and protect each other
valiantly from being carried away for fleecing
singly to tbe enticing groggeries near.
Toward noon buying is likely to begin in
what might seem to a stranger as an alarming
riot. The big traders will make an onslaught
upon a willing subject. Bravely be apparently
resists their efforts to bully or deceive bim. If
by main strength he Is taken from among his
friends tbey will rally and set upon tbe traders
and rescue him. Some rough tussling may fol
low, but no one is alarmed at this. It is a way
they have of Impinging upon formality. The
Ice once broken, buying begins In earnest, and
higher and higher rise shrill volces,of ten aided
In pitch and .intensity by John Barleycorn, who
is ever tbe real master of ceremonies here,
until one would tbink murder must follow tbe
excited dickering. Buyers thrash the air
with their whips, and pour fearful objurations
on tbe poor animals and their owners: wbile
tbe latter aided by their valiant wives pay back
the fierce blackguarding with rich interest.
The "luck-penny." which goes wjtheach single
beast or group of animals sold is shrieked over
as tbouglrit were the value all tbe market
holds. The lesser sellers crowd around and
"rise their voices" lugubriously. Ever one
has drank enough to be Interested in every
other person's affairs.
MAKING GOOD BARGAINS.
Sales are now rapidly made, 'dirtying the
bastes" sold, or rubbing mud on their haunches
to so distinguish tbem, and driving tbem from
the grounds creates constant commotion: cart
loads of pigs arc dumped, amid deafening pork
ers' shrieks, from the farmers' carts into carts
of tbe buyers, whose donkeys are pounded and
rushed through the crowds vociferously: an es
caping hog drives through, tbe forest of legs
madly, often giving old ladies and young en
forced aerial experiences amid shouts of
laughter; the hurdy-gurdies blare; candy sellers
roar: pipers add to the universal din; the young
people crowd the dancing spaces and beat the
turf or improvised floors amid wboops and
yells; and the whole place until the evening
comes is a wild conglomerate of commotion,
laughter, yelling and rnde but good-natured
enjoyment, which for unrestrained heartiness
and unqualified decency is something delicious
and wonderful to behold. Irish literature Is
full of tbe Irish shillelagh and broken heads.
It is untrue of tbese people as I bave seen
tbem: for at over 150 fairs and market day
scenes I bave visited, I never yet saw a human
being harmed savo by whisky, and tbat was the
"beartsome sthroke'' they loved.
I think that weddings among tho Irish
peasantry are a natural sequence of fairs and
market days. Courting among the Irish has
many drawbacks. It is absolutely unknown
at mass, or within tho solemn confines of anv
religious ceremony. There is still a queer old
custom extant down in the south of County
Kerry. It is called "sbrafting," from Shrove,
or Shraft Tuesday. All tbe marriageable girls
and boys get together clad in their most at
tractive attire, and "look each over for tbe
love their is in it." Fathers and mothers are
near by to grimly adjust the terms of union if
matchea,bappen to be made on "sbraftday," as
many happy ones are. But as a rule the Irish
peasant lad and lass rely on the more favorable
conditions which the freedom, general ex
citement and good humor of market days
provide. But tbe keen-eyed father and
mother are never quite out of tbe way
even there, and the moment tbe fires
ot love are lighted, tbe heads of tbe
respective families hold solemn conclave, to
arrange settlements all around. If this Is not
adjusted satisfactorily, tbat must be tbe end of
that affair. If it is. there must be "a brave lit
tle av coortin." Execution follows with won
derful rapidity in either case. Tbe wedding
itself must perforce be an humble affair; but
none are too poor to provide some sort of a
frolic for their friends. There will be plenty
to eat, such as it is, and somehow there is
"slatherin's to wash down joy." The dance,
the wandering piperthe blind fiddler, and
scores of couples aching to follow in tbe bappy
pair's footsteps "widout paddock, praties nor
Jig," are all features of the simple festivities.
f the bridal couple De comfortably off, a ride
in the jaunting cars about tbe county may be
taken. When tbat cannot be afforded, then a
score or two conples will "convoy" them in a
"march" full of fun and frolic about the town
land roads, where from every wayside cabin
cheers and "Grab co wid vel" creet them from
lips, eyes and hearts tbat knew tbe same bless-J
jufa micu uitu wnu Jiico oo UiUMWUIJiig
with love and hope.
SOMETHING ABOUT YTAKES.
One naturally speaks of the Irish "wake"
with feelings of hesitancy. Yet I tbink any
kindly-hearted person sbould put aside their
ignorant or educated prejudice regarding tbe
Irish peasantry, and endeavor to know the
Irish thought, feeling and purpose behind the
fact. That is a good way to do about anything
we may not bappen to like. Every priest, in
Ireland has thundered anathemas against the
wake. Tbe church has sought in every pos
sible manner to exterminate the custom. But
tbe Irish heart clings with stubborn tenacity
to all customs which fire the outgrowth of
affectionate regard. Many believe the wake
to be Irish, but it is of Greek origin; and
similar customs to this day prevail in remote
provincial parts of England. I have thought
upon and visited wakes extendedly in Ireland,
and while not defending tbem, my own notions
are much changed. It Is wrong to condemn
the Irish as unleeling for the occasional appar
ent irreverence of tbe wake. On tbe contrary,
the reverse is true. The whole Idea in the
wake is to honor the dead and assist the.
mourners to overcome their grief. Ocb, thin,
it's a fine berryinT' or "Faith, 'twas an llle
gant wake!" expresses tbe feelings of those
who live for what tbey bave set their hearts
upon at death. They long for even this poor
sign of tbeir neighbors' regard, even if they
should make a slip and not quite deserve it.
They are also a wonderfully tender-hearted
people, and gather in the bouse of tbe dead
exclusively with the sympathetic purpose
and feeling of "rising the heart" of those who
Kepulslrb as this may seem to us. unaccus
tomed to tbese scenes, there is still a human
practicality and beneficence in the custom;
and if tbe kena, or wailing for the dead, be
now and then varied by a little jollity and
courting, even that is tbe outcome ot a natural
law not altogether unforgivable or wholly to be
condemned. For ray own parti began looking
into tbe matter of Irish wakes with a good deal
of American airiness and superiority: but hpon
attending several, some boyhood memories re
turned ol where, in my own loved countryside
region, very excellent Methodist, Presbyterian
and Baptist folk "watched" at the bouses of
tbe dead, counting it no sin that among the
young there was occasional mirth and often
the first kindling of tbe fires of lore; and some
how, for one, wbile not approving of tbe Irish
wake any more than you.1 bave been so touched
by tbe true manitestations of grief, and simple
efforts to cbeer tbose in dolor and misery, that
I cannot find it in my heart to wholly condemn
what is prompted in tbe tenderest spirit of the
sympathetic human heart.
ESOAB L. WAXEJTAX.
One Way to Fay Postage.
Detroit Tree Press.1
"Please, sir, give me a stamp," she said at the
postofflce window the otber day.
"Here it is, little girl," said the clerk as he
raked in two pennies and passed it out.
8hetookit and walked directly to the mail
ing boxes and dropped it into one of the slits.
".Here what did you do that for?" called the
"Please, sir. but I dropped a letter in yester
day without any stamp on It.and that's to make
up for it."
The late Oliver Ditson left J15.000 for the
founding of a home for poor singers. But the
sum is appallingly inadequate. Fifteen mil
lions wouldn't bouse half or them.
Rev. Aethur T. Piehson. D. D.. of Beth
any Church, Philadelphia, has presented his
resignation, to take effect August 1. that be
.may accept tbe appointment to the training
scnooi itir iui:KMUii.tr'ca uu evangelists in iioS
ton. .afitf Continent.
The number of converts in the Japan mis
sion of tbe American Board has increased In 15
months from 4,226 to 7.0b9. a gain of 2,867. This
is the most remarkable record in any mission
connected with the board, with the exception
of tbe great gathering in tbe Sandwich Islands.
Beligion docs not need to be insured, for it
is not a perishable commodity. But some of
the names and symbols which represent it are
as fragile as glas We must not fall into the
error ot identifying a church window with
the light that falls through It. Christian Reg
ister. "Even Christ pleased not himself." "We are
to live for some one else! To put down selfish
ness! We pamper our own wishes; envy the
good of neighbors and are jealous, discon
tented, peevish, unkindl This is all to be re
versed! Weare'toput ourselves In the place
of another. To think with his thought, from
his standpoint. Church AVipj, Dututh.
"InE wrath of God" is a phrase tbat fre
quently occurs in tbe Bible, and, as there nsed,
is far from being a meaningless phrase. What
It represents is His pnre and absolute disap
proval of moral evll.and His purpose of punish
ment Jn tbe absence of repentance and faith in
Christ. God himself bas a moral natnre, and
is a holy being, and is necessarily opposed to
sin. Tbose wbo think otherwise of Him have
false views of tbe great Jehovah. The Inde
pendent. In Canton; China, with Its 1,500,000 inhabit
ant vare 15 Christian chapels, where mission
aries and the native ministers preach the gos
pel, not on Sunday only, but dally, and from
two to four hours each day. to audiences vary
ing from SO to several hundred. After the ser
mon tbese evangelists continue tbe services.
Free conversations ahd 'discussions follow;
rooms are at hand for private conferences, and
Christian books and tracts are kept in readiness
and illspuscd of in large numbers. Tbe preach
ing ball are thronged during the hottest
months July, August and September and
from noon till S o'.clock tbo hottest part of tbe
day. Tent of thousands of visitors to the city
have beard the gospel in tbese chapels and
halls, and bava earned it hundreds of miles
Into the interior. Tbe dialect used by most ef
the missionaries In preaching Is the Punti. or
pure Cantonese, by which they have access to
20,000,000 of people. Miuionary Review.
BY A CLERGYMAN.
IWKlTTIg TOn TUB DISPATCIT.
"For none ot us liveth unto himself,"
writes the great apostle. There is a broad
and general law underlying this statement.
No matter who or what we are, as members
of the human family we live, are compelled
to live, for one another. This may not be
our wish. Nevertheless it Is a condition at
tached to ourexlstence. Why? HowT Because
we affect others. Others affect us. Tbose
within our circle are measurably reliant upon
us. Wo may try to live unto ourselves. Nay,
we may succeed in living for ourselves. Our
controlling purpose in life may be the gaining
riches, wearing honors, enjoying pleasures.
Yet, strive as we may, we cannot live unto our
selves, or within ourselves. We touch our I
lows: tbey touch us. Our Interests are mutual.
And this interplay of Interests calls us out of
ourselves and unites each to all and all to each.
Tbe law which thus governs human life is
that of influence: which may be defined as our
common power by our thoughts or words or
deeds to affect others and win them to adopt
our way of thrnxing or speaking or acting.
That somepeople are influential, all acknowl
edge. Wbo would dream of questioning the
influence of tho Russian Czar, who governs
100,000,000 subject', or of the British Queen,
wboie drum-beat follows the sunrise around
tbe globe? So, too. everyone knows that the
society Dons and Donnas, the money holder,
the purveyors of amusement to mankind are
touching the world daily with various and
It is not as readily perceived, bnt it is equally
true, tbat the humblest man or woman is a
King or Queen: tbat we all form tbe center of
sonio circle: that everv one is an important
character in the estimation of somebody tbe
most important, perhaps; that there are tbose
who look to us for support or happiness, and
who quote us and Imitate us; whom, In a word,
A Tremendous Force.
If It be true that each man and woman is In
deed magnetic with attractive power, an elec
tric motor, on two feet, then It becomes vital
to guard and adjust this prodigious force. It
would be as safe to permit dynamite cartridges
to lie around loose, or to string uninsolated
electric wires through the public streets within
touching distance of the sidewalk, as to allow
hnman beings who are movable batteries of
influence to run a-muck without self-knowledge,
self-control, or tbe ability to direct tbeir
influence to wholesome and helpful ends.
Reader, know tbvself. Recognize tby power
for good or evil. Exert thyself for tbe one
and against tho otber. Live so near to truth,,
in such intimacy with the divine, tbat uncon
sciously thuu shalt make thyself felt for tbe
glory of God and tbe good of men. When
Lord PeterbOMUgb, a noted English infidel,
lodged for a season with Fenelon, Archbishop
ot Cambray. he was so delighted with bis unaf
fected piety and virtue that be exclaimed at
parting: "If I stay here any longer I sball be
come a Christian in spite of myself."
Parents and teachers should Instruct tbe
young in tbis matter, making them aware from
tbe start ot their influential power and making
them feel their responsibility for its proper
exercise. Coleridge? in his "Table Talk."
speaks of a friend (type of a class) whose
theory was that young minds should not be in
fluenced before reaching years ot discretion,
when they might form their own opinions. One
day he took occasion to exhibit to this man his
little dooryard calling it bis botanical garden.
"I bold it as precious," said he.
"Why sor asked his friend: -It Is all covered
"Ob." replied Coleridge, "that is because the
land has not yet come to years of discretion
and choice. 1 thought it unfair to prejudice
the garden toward roses and strawberries, but
meantime the weeds have taken tbe liberty to
Science nnd Bellstoru
When one stands and looks at a steam
engine, smoothly working and accomplishing
mighty results, tbe discovery is soon made tbat
the ponderous energy is under perfect control.
Hidden away there- among the rods and pistons
and levers and gauges and valves and cyli nders
Is a regulator which subdues discordant forces,
and governs the massive ana heady whole. '
Man is a machine. He is stored with power,
and atbrob with it. His appetites and passions
are tbe motors tbat operate him. These work
toward self-gratification, indifferent to any and
all otber interests. Multiply one man by thou
sands, hundreds of thousands, millions, and we
have the community: composed of these ma
chine units, each, in a state or nature, working
away for individual wealth, pleasure, ambition,
heedless of tbe common good. Nay. each man
machine is at odds with itself. For goodness is
opposed to evil; feeling is opposed to thougbt;
Proclivity is opposed to conscience: selfishness
is opposed to generality. The clatter and
racket would disturb Bedlam. Titanic power
is visible, but it is power unadinsted and with
out control. This is why man is a movable
chaos; and why society is tbe arena ot bitter
ness and strife.
Now, tbe crowning merit of religion is that it
supplies tbe human machine with a 'competent
regulator. Tbo name of this regulator is love.
When this is inserted and adjusted the discord
ant elements are put under control. They still
exist else there would be death. But tbey no
longer work wildly and in antagonism to each
other within tbe individual and to all others
outside of him, but, like tbe giant steam, are
subdued to servicable uses. Tbey thunder ou
for the glory of God aad for tbe benefit of the
world. As before man is a reservoir of power,
but an angel of beneficence. He Is in harmony
with himself, with his fellows and with his
"In accord" writes a thoughtful scholar,
"with tbe very latest and most important de
duction of modern science tbat the seventy odd
elements of matter are finally resolvable into
two. and possibly one: It sbonld be the province
of the religious man to show tbatall the virtues
that make bomes beautiful and patriotism
sacred and bravery renowned and fldclitr in
manhood and womanhood an eternal honor all
the f rultlngs of tbe spirit are but various mani
festations of the one primary and eternal sub
stance of Divine love: so that between them all
he shall see no disputatious rivalries, but a
universal drawing and cohesion, their different
compounding in different souls serving only to
mako tbe world more glorious and benignant;
diversities of operations, but the same God
working all in all."
Wbo will not pray and labor to obtain for
himself and for his fellow that omnipotent
Knowledge Not Always Wealth.
The announcement that the family of the
Rev. J. G. Wood, the popular English natural
ist, whose books and lectures bave been so
much enjoyed, is left almost, penniless, has led
to tbe publication of surprising facts in regard
to other popular persons. The English pension
list, to which special attention has been called
by the Society of Authors, among those receiv
ing grants recently on account of "indigent
circumstances,' includes the names of Sir
John Steell.theartist.of Jliss Gordon C'imming,
of Mr. John Bell,tbe sculptnr.of three daughters
of Principal Tullnrh. of three sisters of John
Leech, the famous caricaturist, and of the
widow of Prof. Balfour Stewart. It Is almost
incredible that the talent indicated by such
names has not earned a moderate competence.
Some pandny Thought.
Natube is but the name for an effect whose
cause is God Murphy.
Fbateb Is tbe key of the day and the lock of
the night- Lard Berkley.
Remorse is the echo of a lost virtue. Se
lected. A MAN should never be ashamed to own he
has been in tbe wrong, which is but saying In
other words tbat he is wiser to-day than he was
Tebfection is made up of trifles: but per
fection Is not a trifle. Michael Angelo.
A well-known pastor states that he spent
an afternoon in climbing the tenement stairs
of Edinburgh. Tbe squalor was appalling.
He saw only sin and misery and death. Never
was be so sick at heart. Never did bis faith re
ceive so great a blow. Fdr the moment he was
tempted to exclaim: "There is no God." Soon,
in the very midst of tbis bell he heard a note
of faith a child was singinc At once tbe
cloud lifted, the heaven opened, and Christ
spoke. Hev. W. F. Taylor.
In a silence awful and confounding.
Deep as the stillness with which night comes
Dumb as a Sphinx her problem still propound
ing. Death now hath swept our loved and loving
If a sign to our inquiring could be given.
If lor a moment silence could be broken,
O could but a single word be spoken!
Bnt now, alas, with no such guerdon gifted,
With faith, too. often under deep eclipse.
The silence voiceless and tha dark uplifted,
The cup so bitter pressing at our lips.
We move bewildered toward tha heavenly city
To meet our darling when tha morn shall
Patience, O Father, grant: O, Jesus, pity!
Till thy dear hand bring us to her and borne.
THE FIRESIDE- SPHEtflvl
A Collection of EnisnaDcal Knts to
Address communications for this department J,
to E.K. CHADBOUBN. JsCunsum, jiuub.
659 A DOMINO PUZZLE.
ED ED EH HIT
ED EH EH EH-
Rl EH EH EH 'i
EUELiJ EH lihl.
m EH EH EH 3
Cut out 28 pieces of card-board the size and
shape of dominoes, and write letters on them -3
as shown above. (Or lettered pieces of paper
may be pasted on tbe ends of common domi
noes, selecting the seven "blanks" for the
pieces in the first column.) t ,
Tbo puzzle is to make the greatest possible
number of woras at one arrangement of tha
pieces, placing tbem end to end. This Is illus
trated below. t
J n Z
E. W. Harms.
6C0 DAILY HAPPESftKGS.
We are daily occurring; who will give us &
Reaching backward or forward, we still are tha -
same. - "ii
Some aro open to all, some aro hidden from.
Some are cruel and false, some are tender and
We are filling your moments from morning; t?' .
till night; "lti
We are writing your character, somber or -qf
brisht, , . fi
Sbowinjr plainly your motives, revealing your ' S&u
All these are divulged by your doings or voice. c
Some of us are deemed worthless, unsanctioned a3
by law; , , , S
And some are contested in search of a flaw; i
And the plannings of some who are now with 4&!t
To estrangement and hardness and quarrel
You will meet us again, we are leaving a track,
And memory, faithful, will often o back;
Past, present and future will give tbe amount
For which you must all at last give account.
661 NUMERICAL ailND BEADING.
"I say. Jones," said Perkins, "I understand
that you are blooming out in tbe mind-reading
"Well." replied Jones, modestly, "I am doing
something in numerical mind-reading."
"Numerical mind-reading, eh? Read a num
ber a fellow's thinking about, I suppose?"
"That's about the size of it," answered Jones,
"For instance, think of a number."
Perkins did as he was told.
"Multiply it by 12L"
Perkins borrowed Jones' pencil and per
formed the operation suggested.
'-Now, erase tbe first figure of the answer,
and tell me the balance of tbe answer." ,
"Tbe balance of the answer is 4.563." said Per
kins, after be had drawn his pencil through tho
Jones tbonght for a minute, and then gava
tbe erased figure correctly.
What was it? And bow did bo find it?
J. H. FEZA2TOI&
Sand Trip Led Borne.
Whole was the name that charmed the ear
Of Israel's mighty fold:
There was no heart but It could cheer
And thrill with joys untold.
When tbrongh tbe deep tbe journey led.
Or coursed the burning sand,
'Twa sweetest word was ever heard r
By Israel's wandering band. -
"When sorrow's trials sore oppressed.
And clouds bedlmmed the day.
But raise the fold, yon bills of gold.
Would scatter night away.
At last the children reached their home.
And so, dear friends, may we.
But rest our eyes on yonder skie'.
And fight for victory. CAL Attdo.
663 THE FABMEE'S QUEBT.
There is grain now on the barn floor, and
grain is running on at a uniform rata. Six
men can clear the floor in one bonr. but 11 men
clear it in 20 minutes. In what time can four
men clear it? A. B. Ot.
A friend of mine once gave to me
A faithful bunting dog;
He searched for game where e'er 'twas hid,
In marsh or wood or bog.
One day when I was in high rage,
A word to bim I said;
He came to me: I seized a kntfe.
And then cut off his bead.
As soon as this bad deed I'd done,
I realized my sin; '
I turned my bead away from him.
How wicked I must have been.
And when I turned and looked again,
My poor dog wasn't there:
But what I saw was just a bird.
Which rose Into tbe air. Fraitk.
I. In Pennsylvania. 2. The nave of a church.
(Obs.) 3. Rises and looks over a biding or In
tervening object. 4. To prognosticate. 5. (Mln.)
Acicnlar ore of bismuth. 6. (Mln.) A mineral
of the zeolite family. 7. A province in the
northern part of the Netherlands. 8. (Law.)
The keeping of an ale-house by tbe officer of a
f oresr. and drawing people to spend tbeir money
for liquor through fear of his displeasure. 9. A
small drain. (Prov. En?.) 10. Tbe object aimed
at. in an effort, considered as tbe close and
effect of exertion. 1L In New York. t
Tbe total grows beside tbe brook.
That through the meadow winds along.
And there, well armed with line and hook,
1 fish, and sing my rural song.
1, day by day I there resort
And see tbe bride 5-3-2-4
Up to tbe tree tops, for tbeir sport,
Wbile I lie prone upon the shore.
O rustic ways inspire new life
In college boys, from books set free;
But then vacation bas an end.
And they resume their drudgery.
631 The Cadi loaned a camel to the brothers,
and bade tbem divide the twenty: ten to
Haroet; five to Sellm. and fourtoMurad. By
so doing, tbey found tbey had the borrowed,
one left, which they retnrned to tbe lender.
632 R ESPIRATOB
P I P P I N a
I N L I 8 T
B O I N T
653 Carpet: 1, carp; I can 3. cart; 4L caret f,
cap; 6, cat; 7, cape; 8, crape; 9, caret.
654. o B'o W N - p o S T
B O M B - A -8 INE
. PISH -W- OMEN
B O O X - E -BA N O
N IOH.T -MARK
WAIT D - E - R I N O
S IS C-R-EDIT
658. M itiii 8
S A Tjr II R
T o B AC O O
e a b scab ic
657. Poet, Poe, Po, P.