-e -. 15 SW n - Tt)VTf -r mTT-n. , inJl BT ERNEST H. 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 everybody, except Bobby, was very fond of her. 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 her. 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 the air. 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 you I" 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 i&S32B$3iJft K!kl$fl acoj y I rJSC? r I rt6SJBAffiJBPgH 5 'f'Ajpr""'' ' U a T ;eAir DAU HEINRICHS. 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 theiuture." 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 him. "Do forgive him and make him a boy again," sbe begged. "Maybe be will improve and be a good bov." "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 more. 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 can." 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 mighty. 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 water. 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. Some Ridiculous Imitations of English Fashions. 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 broad-brim patterns. 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 servedly so. 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 proposition that 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. IMBECILE IMITATOES. 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 aJJLk - - - 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 learned enough. 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 the flowers. 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 result. 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. Yon May Survive Yontbfal Goreln,' but Beware in Vonr Old Age. Quarterly Kevlew. 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. . - 'ML$j$4ffiTi 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 Yaliant Wives. 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 tones. 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 W"? 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 mourn. 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 clerk. "Please, sir. but I dropped a letter in yester day without any stamp on It.and that's to make up for it." RELIGIOUS SUMMARY. 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. SUNDAY THOUGHTS -ON- MORALSMANNERS 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 titanic fingers. 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, we influence. 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 with weeds." "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 grow." 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 Maker. "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 regulator? 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 yesterday. Pope. 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 down. Dumb as a Sphinx her problem still propound ing. Death now hath swept our loved and loving one. 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 come. Patience, O Father, grant: O, Jesus, pity! Till thy dear hand bring us to her and borne. IrUbrie. THE FIRESIDE- SPHEtflvl A Collection of EnisnaDcal Knts to Home CracME. t 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 i t L W H R D 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 & name J Reaching backward or forward, we still are tha - same. - "ii Some aro open to all, some aro hidden from. view; i Some are cruel and false, some are tender and true. ' t 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 choice &! 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 tne ueaa. To estrangement and hardness and quarrel have led. 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. Clamob. 661 NUMERICAL ailND BEADING. "I say. Jones," said Perkins, "I understand that you are blooming out in tbe mind-reading liner "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 first figure. Jones tbonght for a minute, and then gava tbe erased figure correctly. What was it? And bow did bo find it? J. H. FEZA2TOI& 662 ANAGRAM. 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. 661 DECAPITATION-. 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. 665 DIAMOND. 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 CalAndo. 666 NUMERICAL. 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. ASFIBQ AKSWEB3. 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 EQUINOXES 8UPPLIED P I P P I N a I N L I 8 T B O I N T AXES 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 CJIAH-O-MILE B O M B - A -8 INE WOBK-H-OUftX . PISH -W- OMEN B O O X - E -BA N O BOJfE-B-LACK OLAD-S -TONE N IOH.T -MARK WAIT D - E - R I N O S IS C-R-EDIT 655.-Patella. 658. M itiii 8 A SOIloT S A Tjr II R T o B AC O O e a b scab ic Restore 657. Poet, Poe, Po, P. 658. Cablegram. "j 3 -ly- .tc3a.4 , V JL lj t& ."! A. &a