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THE PITTSBUEG DISPATCH, SUNDAY, JULY 21,
THE WITCH'S WAND
T was summer time.
and very hot, indeed.
But the woods and
the fields and the
meadows looked so
B; gloriously beautiful
in their exquisite ar
ray of rainbow-hued
flowers and trees that
everybody living in
the city just longed to
get out into the
country. All the
schools had been va
cated on account of
the heat, and the chil
dren, delighted at the
and recreation, gaily
frolicked around to
enjoy their temporary
freedom as best they
One day quite a number of little boys and
girls made ud their minds to go for a picnic
in the woods, not many miles out 01 town
It was early In the morning when thev
started, and they looked a very nice signt.
The cirls were all dressed iu a beautiful
white frock, their hair tied at the back of
their head with a pink ribbon, while most
of the boys had donned a sailor suit of blue
serge with a broad white Nelsonian collar
and the reculation blue anchors at cacn
corner. All the boys carried Baskets, which
contained the necessary provisions for the
nartv durin" their absence irom home. All
requirements for a pleasant day in the woods
having been provided for, the party at last
set out Irom their homes and there never
was a more iovlul lot of children anywhere
than these voting ones who were bound for-
the picnic ground in the forest.
It was a grand morning. The sun shone
beautifully. The little birds sang joyously
in the shrubs and trees, and when the chil
dren crossed the silvery little rivulet.noisily
jumping over the pebbles and rocks through
the deep ravine, it seemed that the world
had never been such a fine place to them in
all their lives. At last they all arrivedin
a very shady spot, which looked quite in
viting to the children for a resting place.
"Do not let us go any farther," said lit
tle John, one of the youncest boys in the
partv, "because we shall be too tired, and
besides this will make a "ery excellent
So the children decided to make a halt.
All the baskets were put around the base ot
a big old oak tree and then the fuc of a
jolly picnic began. At first they indulged
in all kinds of entertaining games and such
frolicktome pastime as ail children delight
in. They played "hide-and-seek," "blind
man's buff," then the girls would get the
skipping rope and the boys their ball until
The Witch's Cave.
in about half an hour the wood was a
regular circus and the joyful laugh of the
girls and boisterous shouting of the boys
re-echoed through the woods from every
tree. Never was there such a pleasant
party, and the birds were attracted by the
noise and thev flew around on the trees
looking and wondering who the jolly little
people might be, who had come into the
forest Then the rabbits and squirrels came
also, and when they realized the good na
ture and pleasant mood ot the children all
the little animals joined in the fun.
But the small limbs of the girls became
tired from the jumping and running and
skipping and the boys had almost snouted
themselves hoarse and romped until they
vere quite hot. ' Then a hnlt was called and
the whole party sat around under the
tree to enjoy the delicacies which were
stowed away in the lunch baskets. The
many sandwiches and the pies and cakes
rere"soon disposed of and it must not be for
gotten that the birds and the rabbits as well as
the squirrels ho had plajed with the children
came also in for their fchare uf tho provisions.
When all had been eaten the little people
felt an fully sleepy. Their littio heads began
to feel so heavy it was hardly possible to keep
them up and after aw hile they hung one after
another down on their chests. Then the eyes
refused to do their duty any longer and soon
they closed until at last the whole party lay
down and slept.
"Are they dead?" asked the rabbits.
No," replied the squirrel, "tbey are asleep;
can't yon hear them breathe? but oh my, what
nice people they are. How different they look
from the big men, who sometimes come here
and kill nine of us by blowing into a stick that
"les, tney are nice people, and 1 tell you
what we ought to do," now chimed in one of the
birds. "Let us run through the woods and
feather a whole lot of flower and bring them
ere. Then let us cover the little ones with the
flowers and when they wake up they will be
ever to much pleased I have no doubt."
The others agreed to that and all dispersed
through the trees. In a few minutes they re
turned with a large load of flowers and the
Kquirrel at once beean to cover the partvue
It wis a very beautiful sight to see the little
animals buily trottinc around and throwing
flower after flower over the sleeping chil
dren. We have not quite enough," said 'the rab
bit; "let us co again and get anotber load." And
so thev went.
But alas for the sleeping picnic party there
lived a very nastj woman in that forest, nho
was nothing ele than a witch. This old witch
' hated all the children, and whenever she would
Fee any she would take them and carry them
off to a deep cavern far away in the forest, and
there she would keep them imprisoned all their
...;. n au uappenea mat tins nasty old witch
came along after the little animals had thrown
thehrst lot of flowers over the children and
when the woman saw all tho boys and cirls
asleep, she said:
"Ha. na! Hi, In! such a beautiful lot of flsh
I bare never caught in my life, and I shall take
good care that jou will not escape ine." Then
b took a stick from under her dress and walk
ing arounri the children she touched them with
It one after another. This stick was the witch's
wand and there was majii in it, because no
sooner was one of the children touched with
the wand, than it would jump up from its sleep
?,", fo""w.t,lc wilch wherever she went to,
"hen all of them had been tonched by the
witch, she turned around and said:
"Mow comcalong, my pretty dears,I will take
care of jou in the futurr."
Then the whole party of children walked
along behind the witch until they cot into the
deep cavern where the witch lived. Arrived in
this place the magic of the wana had no more
Influence over the children and they all awoke
from tbeir sleep.
"Where are e and how did we come here?"
thev cried one after another.
"Never you mind where you are. you little
cood-ror-notblncs. yon get into the stable over
th.'e and be as qniet as mice or I will kill
erei one of you." Thus said the cruel witch,
- &ir -h iyju'9if' "
. f r
and she then drove the children before her Ilk
a lot of sheep.
All ot them hurried along except little John.
"H'm!" he said to himself, "there are so many
of us, maybe I can stay behind without the
witch knowing anything about it," and as the
whole lot of children was driven along Johnny
slipped behind a luc post and bid himself until
the witch and all his friends had passed by.
'"Now let me get ont as quick as 1 can and I
will be ablo to save all our lives jet," said
John, and he then hurried oat ot the cavern as
last as his little lei rnnlri eav him. He
S came out without being noticed, and he then
ran into me jtoou jor iear tne wuuu iuii;ufc
have foundeut that he was missing. But bo
was fortunate and ho w as not detected. John
ran all dny long, but still be did not get to the
end of the forest, and in the evening he laid
down under a tree to rest for the nlcht. As he
was very tired from the hard running he had
done, it was not long before he fell fast asleep
under the tree and he slept as soundly as If be
had been at home in his own little bed.
When the squirrel and the rabbit and the
birds came the second time with a load of
flowers to cover the sleeping picnic party, they
were very much astonished to And that the
children had all disappeared.
"What can have become of them?" asked the
rabbit, and the birds and the squirrel replied:
"We do not know 1
"Well, let us go and find them," all of
them shouted, and they at once commenced a
hunt through the entire forest. They went to
and fro from one end of the wood to the other,
but they did not And any Mgn of the children
at all. At last, however, "It was on the follow
ing morning they discovered little John King
fast asleep under the tree.
"Here is one of them," all cried, "but where
are the others? Let us wake this one up, may
be ho will tell us where his friends are."
When Jobu was awake and he noticed the
squirrel, the rabbit and the birds, he was glad,
and he soon told them all that bad happened.
Ha, ha," said the squirrel, "I know the
witch, and we will get even "with her this time.
I tell vou what we will do. Yon, biro, co and
call all our friends together, and while von.
rabbit, do the same, 1 will go and hunt up all
the squirrels in tbe whole forest. Onr friend
can wait here till we all comeback and be can
take us to tbe witch's cavern."
This was agreed to, and within an honr after
that John was surrounded by a whole army of
animals, squirrels, rabbits and birds.
"Now, then," said tbe squirrel, who bad been
at the children's picnic, "I will tell you bow we
have to proceed. The witch's great strength
is her wand, and I shall make it my business to
steal it from her. As soon as you see that I
have It, then all ot you attack her and hurt her
until jou Kin uer."
All tbe animals agreed to this, and Johnny
led his army toward the cavern. When they
arrived there tbe witch was sitting outside
sunning herself, and as she noticed all those
animals come along, she said:
"What do you want here?" but in her excite
ment she dropped her wand, and the little
squirrel, who had been watching her very
closely, quickly jumped forward, and picking
it up. he climbed with it up the nearest tree.
But no sooner bad the other animals noticed
that than all of them attacked tbe witch. The
rabbits kicked her, the squirrels bit, and the
birds picked her and scratched her eyes ont
until sne was aeaa. in ijie meantime Jorm
ran into the cavern and opened the prison
where all tbe little children were, and when
they all got out there was snch great rejoicing
as the world bad never seen before nor since.
LATEST FANCIES IN DOGS.
Terriers and Black nnd
New York Star.
"Tbe popular fancy for dogs as house pets
changes almost every year," said a dog fancier
to a Star man to-day. "Ah altogether new
breed is going to be tbe fashion this year. It
is what is called the Boston bull terrier. These
dogs have a kind and affectionate disposition
anu at tne same time are very courageous.
They weigh from 14 to 20 pounds, and choice
ones bring from $25 to ilOO. The favorite colors
are all white and white and brindle."
"What has become of the black and tan
"Ten years ago they were all the rage. Thev
are now very scarce, rney seem to have drifted
out. There is at present a good demand for
th era, but there are never enough of the breed
in the market. A good one brings a good price.
A number of breeders are now makrag efforts
to propagate black and tan, and restore them
to their old prestige. I predict that in a very
few j ears black and tan will be as numerous as
ever. When tho breeding of black and tan
was oegun years ago, tneir weight ftveraged
from IS to 25 pounds. I have lately seen one
that weighed 17 ounces. Yorkshire and f-kye
terriers are still very popular, and a small long
haired specimen will bring a high price, some
times exceeding tluu."
"What about pugs?
"There are a Rood many of them In Boston,
but they arc not in such favor as formerly.
Japanese pugs are now being introduced. They
have a black and white face, and weigh from
four to ten pounds. They are more intelligent
than the English pug, which has been so com
mon of late years.' " ,
"To what extent do dog thieves canyon
"There seems to be a regularly organized
gang or dog thieves in New York. On an aver
age they steal a dozen a day, and undoubtedly
make a good living out of their business. They
know enough never to bring a stolen dog to
my establishment, as I should arrest tbem at
once. When they steal a dog they scan the lost,
strayed and stolen advertisements in the daily
newspapers, and when tbey see that
a reward has been offered they go and
secure it. The thief will steal the same
dog tbe next chance, and send a confederate to
get the reward. I have known one dog to have
1 1 An stolen three times within one month.
The owners know that their dog has been
stolen, but they are never disposed to prosecute
thethiet. They are satisfied to pay out their
shekels to get back their pets, and 'no questions
are askea.' The only way to break up this
professional gang of dog thieves is to prosecute
Have you often been bitten by a dog?"
"I get a tooth stuck into me on an average
once a day. Sly assistants have the same luck.
None ot us notice the bites, and we have no
fears ot hydrophobia. Boston is tbe most
popular city in the United States for dogs, and
In no other city are they treated in such a pro
fessional manner. I receive hundreds of letters
every week from the Western States, Canada
and Mexico, asking for advice regarding the
treatment of dogs, all of which I take pains to
A BURGLAR'S CDTE TRICK.
Br Arrcstlnc ITIsPnl Both Sneeeed In Elnd
Ing the Officers.
'One of the neatest tricks I have heard of in
sometime was perpetrated by a pair of burg
lars in this city lately." said a police captain to
a New York Graphic reporter. "The younger
of the two bad entered a private residence
while tbe inmates were at tea and tbe elder
stood outside on watch. The rifler was dis
covered and was soon cbased from ono floor to
another by two gentlemen members of the
household. Somebody called 'Police!' and tbe
outside burglar, dranmg bis revolver, respond
ed. There, there, ladies; don't make any fuss.
I'll take care of this fellow,' he said, and mak
ing a rush be grabbed his mate by tbe collar
and cave him a cuff on the neck as be led him
down tbe stoop.
"The family breathed more freelv and the
gentlemen prepared to go to the station bouse
to swear ont a complaint. When they arrived
there nobody had beard of the case. The burc-
ihad vanished. It's an old trick, but I
haven't beard about it in this neighborhood in
many years." ,
A linns Broken to Harness.
Trom the Kew York Evening World.
Fred Wood ard and Frank Hudnut, expert
canoeists of the Trenton Canoe Club, have a
trained striped bass of some IS or 20 pounds
weight, which tbey harness to their canoe and
drive to any part of tbe river tbey wish to go.
They guide It br striking the water on the side
they want to turn.
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Tfit Witch Irtset Her Mind.
CLARA BELLE'S CHAT.
Wealthy Fifth Avenue Widow's
Claims for Distinction.
UOMAKCE AT A SUMMER CONCERT.
"Midsummer Driving Parties in the Parks
THE HAPPY LOVERS AND THE HANSOM
tCORBESFONDEXCB OT THE DISrATCn.?,
New York, July 20. The city may have
lost some of its interesting women through
fashionable summer absenteeism, but there
remains plenty of femininity worth writing
about. For instance, residing on Filth
avenue, the sole occupant of a most valua
ble piece of corner property, is a woman
whose came never appears in the chronicles
of society's doings. Yet she is. a person of
distinction in the quarter of the town in
which she lives. Stately structures rear
their lofty walls on every hand, but the
residence of this particular Fifth avenue
woman is not stately. Its location is a lit
tle above One Hundredth street. Pausing
in front of it one day, I said to a small red
"Who lives in this shanty, sissy?"
The child tooked up with amazement at
my ignorance of the town, and answered:
"Why. it's the "Widdy Phelan, and she
keeps a hundred ducks, she does."
Here is another bit summer ot actual dia
logue: "So you've got a little sister at
your house," said a maid of 8 or 10 years to
another of about her own age, in Bryant
Park the other afternoon.
"Yes, and she's twins," was the reply.
"What are you going to name them?"
"I'd like to name one of them Isabella,
"Whv don't yon name them Arabella?"
"Name them Arabella?"
"Yes; ain't Arabella the plural of Isa
bella?" NO flies ox II EE.
In an Eastside elevated train the other
afternoon, going uptown, was a pink
cheeked German girl, accompanied by two
young fellows of her own nationality. She
was a cicture of innocence. Her compan
ions were talking to her in the German tongue,
and, from theirgestures, seemed to be pointing
out objects of interest In view from the car
windows and telling her about them. 6he lis
tened, smiled, nodded assent now and then.and
I said to mvself that here was a girl just from
the Fatherland, whose blue eyes were taking
In with wonder the sights of this great city ot
tbe New World as pointed out to ber by per
haps her cousins, who bad come before she
came. Then there was a lull in the talk of tho
,oung men, and clear and strong rose tbe voice
Of the girl as she said:
"Well, if he thinks they're any flies on me
he'll just And I'm onto bis curves, and you kin
bet your sweet life on it."
Up among tbe sparkling lights of a theater
roof garden one night this week I witnessed an
occurrence which called up a memory of a few
years back, when tbe actors of the little scene
were tne taiK oi tne town as lovers. An act
ress, whose name is known the country over,
and whose beauty was once considered peer
less, sat with some men and women companions
at a table, sipping a lemonade and gazing lan
guidly at tbe dense crowd which surrounded
her. Around her throat was twined alight
veil of lace. I happened to know that under
neath that veil was a twisted'scar. It was the
mark of a bullet. The Hungarian Band was
playing one of its weird melodies, the moon
was throwing its silver light across this woman's
face, and I sat there watching that face, fascin
ated by the history that I knew it was a beauti
ful mask of. Uudaenly I saw that
THE PALLOB OF DEATH
spread over tbe woman's features; her lips be
gan to tremble, her eyes stared in horror at
something behind me. and her whole form
shrank as though she expected death that in
stant to descend upon her. I glanced ever my
shoulder and saw standing a few feet away a
tall man of not more than 40, with pure white
balr and a dark mustache. By the hand he
neia a litue gin oi aoout iz years or age, whose
eyes bore a remarkable resemblance to those of
the beautiful actress I had been watching. As
I turned, I saw that his dark eyes were fixed
calmly and disdainfully upon the actress, and
then I saw him pass on, and beard him answ er
some qnestlon that the child put to him about
tbe band. Tbe actress remained white and
trembling for some moments, and then she re
quested her companions to go away with ber.
That white-haired man must have remembered
the night when he shot at the woman hoping to
If you don't believe midsummer New York is
a different New York fiom midwinter New
York, take a diive through tbe park and up
tbe road and see. It is a swirl of swell turnouts
In the season. There is a pretty clink from
silver-plated be-cbained harness, and a glitter
of color along tbe line. But there's very little
of all that now. A buxom, chocolate-tinted
lady has that department almost to herself.
She nearly Alls ber rickety bnggy. Tbe sur
plus accommodates a meek little yellow man,
who is probably ber husband. Dinab is a great
whip. Her feet are pushed firmly against the
dashboard, her light tan gloves are unbuttoned
to give ber a good grip, ber bat is a little one
side, but it has ribbons gay enough to make up
for that, and her Oirectolre coat flaps from her
brown and shiny throat in great shape. Ohl
these people must have their show sometime,
and this is tbe time.
A FAMILY PAETY.
A carryall bumps against you, with mamma
and papa in front and Johnnie, growing too big
for mamma's knee, asleep with his head hang
ing out of the wagon over mamma's arm. In
tbe back seat are Susie, Tom, Mamie and
Auntie Kate. Susie and Mamie are bare
headed and asleep promiscuously all over
Auutle Kate. Their big straw hats with John
nie's are tied about mamma's wrist, but mamma
doesn't care whether the turnout looks like a
millinery shop or not. Tom has faced about,
and sits surreptitiously banging his heels over
the back of tbe wagon, Auntie Kate being too
busy keeping Snsie and Mamie from falling
into the bottom of the wagon to notice him.
Papa's knees are high in the air, because he has
bis feet on tbe lunch basket. His vest is open
and he says "Gullang!" to the old horse not
because he thinks the old horse will gullang,
but just to keep the flies off.
There is a sprinkling of low-neck two
wheelers, but the hansoms are popular all tbe
year round. Tbe young things take a real out
ing this time of year, and a hansom is so
nice. She stares right out ovetthe'opron, and
so does he. If you hadn't been In a hansom once
or twice yourself you wouldn't know they had
hold of hands at all. She wears a white bar
muslin dress, cut Mother Hubbard fashion.
Aronnd her waist is (besides his arm) a cream
colored ribbon. Her hands are encased in his
and a pair of yellow sil k mits. Abont her neck
is a string of pearls. Ab me, youth and poverty!
And two-wheelers and lore.
WEALTH AND WEARINESS.
Now and then you catch tho clink of a chain.
You see the madam and tbe daughters and tbe
college son are all at Saratoga, and tbe old
man stays at home; not because ho has to, but
because be bates It less than be docs Saratoga.
He is one of those wretched old duffers who
have spent the best years of their life getting
control of a bank, or a brewery, or a boom of
some sort He is sitting back In a corner of
his swell landau now and wondering what he
did it for. He has a fine old face, a heavy gray
moustache, busby evebrows and gold-rimmed
eyeglasses. He is dressed carefully and bis
face is absolutely empty of interest in any
thing. He can't even work any more, because
be has so much money all motive is gone. His
wife? Oh. well, be loved bis wife long ago, and
he bows to her now when he meets ber in the
hallway of bis house, and they have never had
a quarrel, umiarenr .ora, wiara, juanue,
Bertram. They used to be pretty and were
fond of him when they were babies. Then
boarding school, college, balls, parties and
checks, checks checks. Now be hardly knows
which is Cora and which is Maude. Bertram?
Tbe old man's brows met in a heavy scowl.
That's Bertram in tbe English dog cart, going
at a fast pace, in every particular; spending
money rapidly and foolishly, and in bad com
pany. Old Sport is on the road all tbe year round.
He is florid of face, wears a red necktie and
alinendnster. He Alls his buggy closely and
drives hid span with a relish. He may take
spurts to Long Branch for tbe races, but he
Knows oetter inaa w iiuauuuii wwa uuring me
summer. Ambitious young doctors who avoid
tbe road during the season, being sensitive
about social position, take a turn there now.
They drive a steady bay, and their rig is a little
shabby. Pete, tbe colored boy who holds the
horse while the doctor pays a visit, sits beside
the doctor now and holds the medicine case.
The doctor Is pale and a bit thin. He haa a
drab-colored beard, and his eyes are rather
A CASE OF HEART TROUBLE.
He thinks, maybe, be may see Miss Prue. Ha
told her last week she might venture a short
drive. 'He hopes he won't see her; but. dear
ma, ho would like to very much.
There she if 1
No, no, Pete, we have gone far enough, and he
turns around, short. Miss Prue is in a little
basket phaeton, and Aunt Emery drives. Miss
Prae Is pretty ana pale-faced. She Jcame up
from the country a few weeks ago to visit Aunt
Emery, and sh? fell ill. poor child. The doctor
has said she couldn't be moved back to tbe
country, so Aunt Emery is staying in town.
Neither Aunt Emery nor Miss true suspect
that tbe doctor knows bis own constitution
could not stand Miss Prne's removal.
Mr. Butcher and Mr. Milkman are on the
road, too. Mr. Butcher rides in his shirt
sleeves. His legs are srort and he sits with bis
knees wide apart to accommodate bis hearty
dinner. Tbe reins lie idly over his bony horse's
back and tbe buggy groans at every step the
bony horse taaes, but Mr. Butcher feels him
self real swell. Here and there is a children s
'low rig. People who have their borne up the
road jou know and live there during the sum
mer, coining to town for the winter. Tbe gov
ernesses go out with tho children every day in
the summer. She is a little bit big for the
pony carriage and she feels It. So does the
pony. But Nellie and Scratch sit in front, self
possessed little millionaires as they are.and wish
there were more people to notice them. Even
the Bowery boys get upon the road during
July. Tbey take a four-seated rig and six of
them pile in. By coming home time theyaro
all a little merry and find tbe rig too small fJr
their feet. Cully Tim and Firetop Jags Indulge
in cat calls, and Square Bob offers tbe mounted
Eoliceman who Interferes a 'two fer" and a
ottle of beer and the whole crew is regarded
with horror by the park landau full of English
tourists who are "doing" New York In tbe off
season and are going to write a book about
America when they get back.
There is another style of left-over-from-the-stason
landau get up. Two old people this
time. The horses are fine, the rig faultless,
coachman and footman in great form. The old
people take their solitary drive every after
noon and they never leave the city. Sons and
daughters are grown up, married, estranged
from the old folks, and the old folks are living
their quiet, stranded lives feeling a little lonely
as they age, in the fine big house on Fifth ave
nue and in the swell rig on the road. Money
does not make happiness, but dear me, it
needn't mar it either. You make up your mind
to that in a minute when you get a look at the
pony carriage in sight. Pretty mamma must
have a country house up the road, too. My,
but she's pretty! She wears a pinknercale
with a bit of lace falling away from a warmly
sunbrowncd throat. Her hair is twisted closely
under a rough hat. The hat is a dainty delight
of pink roses and cream lace. The face under
it is a dainty delight of pink and cream, too.
Bobby and Phil are on cither side of the little
mother. Their rouud little, sound little limbs
lightly tucked into white linen suits, sailor
hats on the back of their curl-tangled heads,
and their lusty young throats Dare at tbe sailor
collar. Bobby and Phil and the little mother
are all laughing, and the tan-colored ponies
prance a little as mamma has to pull at the tan
colored ribbons, and tan-colored Joe sits be
hind in bis tan-colored suit and top boots, and
by buttons and bearing proclaims tbe party as
swell as swell goes. Clara Belle.
D BEAZZA AMONG SAVAGES.
Tbe Wny lie Managed Natives Who Re
fused to Sell Him Pood.
From the New York San.l
"I regard Savorgnan de Brazza. next to
Stanley, as the greatest of living African
travelers," said Mr. Carl Steckelmann in this
city a few days ago. Mr. Steckelmann was to
sail next day for the French Congo region,
where he had already spent three years. "No
one who has ever seen Be Brazza on his
travels," he continued, "could fail to recognize
the fact that be was born to be an explorer. I
shall never forget the time I met him far In
land when I was traveling up the Kwiln river.
"One day I reached a tribe who seldom saw
white men. They were not very hospitable,
but finally concluded to sell me food. After a
few hours I got on pretty friendly terms with
tbem, and they allowed me to camp in tbe
village. Suddenly 1 observed a little commo
tion among tbe natives. A few carriers were
seen emerging from the forest, and with them
was a slender, sad-faced, poorly-clad white
man. It was the Governor of the French Congo
himself, and be was "off on one of bis long
tramps through tbe country.
"De Brazza approached a group of natives
and asked tbem for food. The savages thought
this was piling It on. 'No,' they said grufljyj
'we have one white man here already. You
can't get food here. You bad better go on your
. "Be Brazza said nothing. He simply ordered
his carriers to lay down their loads in the mid
dle of the village. Then be sat down apart
from the natives while one of tbe men un
packed his astronomical and other instru
ments. The explorer went to work to make
observations for position and to calculate bis
"It was the strangest sight the natives ever
saw this white man studying bis instruments
so Intently, and figuring away bn a bit of paper.
They made up their minds that his instruments
were a very powerful fetich, and that this
white man was a person not to be trifled with.
Soon a crowd gathered around him, and when
the curious blacks came too near, the explorer
frightened them away by his gruff manner and
'Get away from me. Clear out. Don't you
"At length De Brazza finished his work and
put away his instruments. Some natives had
been cooking their evening meal in front of
their hut. Their meat and vegetables, which
bad been boiling in a pot, were ready, and the
group gathered around the dying Are and
began to eat De Brazza watched them for a
minute or two. Then he took a tin plate and
a large spoon, walked up to the pot, helped
himself liberally to its contents without sayin"
a word to anybody, sat down by a tree, and r
galed himself with native cookery. He knew
just the effect his actions had produced upon
the native mind and just what to do. Then he
told ihe villagers his men were hungry and
must be fed. Fed they were with all they
could eat. for who would dare to oppose a great
medicine man who carried such a remarkable
fetich as a theodolite? De Brazza slept in the
village that night, and next morniLg ho paid
the natives well for all they had given him and
took his departure,"
De Brazza is one of tho few explorers who
are perfectly willing. If need be, to live for
months on native cookery. If he has no sup
plies at hand, he Is not afraid to travel without
them. Stanley said that De Brazza was one of
the most dilapidated-looking objects be ever
saw when be suddenly turned up on the Cono
one day, barefooted and in rags. De Brazza
relates, however, in the story of bis early
travel on the Ogowe, an experience that nearly
upset his equilibrium. He arrived at a village
one day, and requested the woman to cook him
some dinner, bho prepared the meal, and
while he was eating it he asked his dusky host
tho name of the flsh she had set before bim.
She replied that it was not flsh, but snake he
was eating. Though he thought the dish an in
viting one, bis imagination got tbe better of
him, and the explorer savs he suddenly lost his
appetite and did not regain it until the next
HIS BALD HEAD WON A WIPE.
Tbe Qunlnt Story of an American's Court
ship of a Samoan Woman.
In tho book of Mrs. Laulit 'Willis.the Samoan
woman whose husband, a contractor, left Ala
meda several days ago, and has since been
missing, occurs tbe following quaint story
of how she fell in lore with ber
husband: "The first thing I saw when I went
alongside the ship was a white man with bald
head. That looked very funny to me, as I had
never seen a bald-headed man before. He was
real fat and nice-looking, bnt he did not have
any hair on his head; and I got my brother who
could talk English, to ask him, just as soo'n as
we got aboard, where was all the hair that be
longed on his head.
"And the wblto man told bim that bellved in
California, and that they did not have anvcold
weather there, but had what thev nilH 'a
glerious climate,' and tbe 'climate' had taken
all the hair off his head. We got very. well ac
quainted, and I liked him, because when an
other white man kept talking to me this one
with the bald head quarreled with him and
knocked him down so be should not bother
AX ABSENT MINDED PORTER,
He Checked a Drunken Traveler and Pat
nil Vall.e to Bed.
Lcwliton Journal.; '
"I've met absent minded men in my day,"
said the Lewiston Hotel clerk, "but none to
surpass a porter that I knew once in a hotel that
I worked in qt Rye Beach, one summer. It was
along about U o'clock and the officers brought
in a nice respectable looking man badly intoxi
cated, who bad come in on tbe train. Said I to
the porter, 'John, take this man up to his room
and check his valise and put into the coatroom
on the second floor.' The next morning a valise
was found in bed. We hunted for tbe man and
of course found him where you exuect. He
was sleeping on tbe floor in tbe coatroom, his
head on a grip-sack and a valise check, No.
around bis neck."
Tbe crowd that heard this yarn looked at tbe
clerk and said. "Don't tell that too often or you
will come to believe it yourself."
An Ear Cnt Off and Sewed On.
Greesesboro, (It., Journal.
A farmer, while catting oats near this place,
made a mlillck and the sharp blade took off his
right ear. He coolly picked up tbe detached
member, wranned it in his handkerchief and
carried It home. His wife sewed it back Into
position, anu it has knitted nicely and. is doing
UUllttQM U1V V1U BMbUU. f
A Pleasant Cbat Wilu the Gifted Lit
tle Woman Whose Writings
SET ALL ENGLAND TALKING.
Her latest Novel and the Short-Lived Sen
sation It Created.
LITERARY LADIES AT A BANQUET
CCOBBESrOXDENCI Or TUS DISPATCH.
Man chesteb, Eh gland, July 12. A
year ago all England was ringing with the
burning question, "Is marriage a failure?"
The newspapers were lull of it. The young
lions of the Daily Telegraph fought and
growled over it, made fun of it day after
day for many months. Grave and sober
reviews discussed it; high church, low
church and no church periodicals went mad
over it Exeter Hall, the vast temple of
May meetings, missions, prayer meetings
and preachings waxed mighty in thunder
and flung red hot bolts of denunciation on
all who dared to count marriage as any
thing but a happy, blessed and perfect in
stitution. And, in the midst ot all this
uproar, the Daily Tearer, which counts its
readers by the hundred thousand, opened
its columns wide to all ladies and gentle
men ot all classes and invited tbem to say
what they had to say on matrimony. For
months one-half of tbe mighty sheet was
filled with a flood of letters, notes, essays
and inquiries, most of them from married
folk old, young, rich and poor; and nine
tenthsofthem the poorest wordiest trash
that ever filled a column.
Thousands of scribes wrote in reply to the
question without answering it But, in
spite of their silliness, the letters were read
far and wide, and served to add fuel to the
fire; and John Bull and his wife talked all
the more about the blessedness or horrors of
marriage, the comfort or the atrocity of
divorce, the woe or the bliss of brides and
bridegrooms, the so-called slavery of women
and the tyranny of men.
WHO CAUSED ALL THE TJTEOAB?
Fifty miles away from Babylon, down
among the Hampshire woods, is a small,
roadside station, at which the train stops.
As we cross the platform to give up our
tickets, look for a moment at that quiet,
well-dressed man In a velvet shooting jacket,
trim gaiters and gloves,withasbort riding whip
in his hand. He 18 leaning up against the ratl
ines in a lancuid. cood-natnred wav a If hn
took life easily. He docs so take it. Outside
the station a very neatly mounted groom is
walking up and down in the sun, lead
ing bis master's horse a perfect
bav cob, wortb a hundred guineas.
The owner of the cob is Mr. A Caird, a gen
tleman of good family, the eldest son of a
Baronet one day to be a Baronet himself who
has elected to give up tbe world of fashion and
go in for tbe quiet lite of a farmer on an estate
of some thousand acres. He is one of the best
and most accomplished farmers In tbe west of
England; makes and spends a large Income; Is
a swell. In bis way; well educated, but silent
and reserved. If these were his only qualifica
tions he might never have been heard of ten
miles beyond the neighboring village.
But be happens to be the husband ot Mrs.
Mona Catrd, who in August, 18S8, wrote in that
all but defunct periodical, the Westminster
Review, a startling paper on the slavery of
married women, and awoke the next day to find
herself famous, though up to that time un
known but as the author of one or two obscure
romances of a milk and watery Ouida genus.
Tbe paper startled and amazed people of all
ranks, especially the goody goodies, mainly be
cause it spoke out on certain topics connected
with marriage and divorce about which it was
supposed that women should have no opinions,
or hold their tongues. Marriage, to Mrs. Caird,
was no sacred thing at all, bnt too often a
cruel and infamous bondage into which
lovely and innocent maidens were trapped by
selfish and designing tyrants of the male sex.
.uivorce was not only lawtui, nut highly ex
pedient, nay, necessary, in thousands of cases.
There was, tnere could be. no valid reason why
a woman should have a family of 12 children,
when she was amply satisfied with two. This
novel tune, with variations, and a few kindred
episodes, by way of illustration, was the dainty
strain of music to which Englishmen and
maidens, bnsbands and wives, bond or free,
were expected to dance. And dance they did,
with a vengeance, as we have seen.
A CHAT "WITH MKS. CAIBD.
As for poor little Mrs. Mona Caird herself
she little dreamed of what a whirlwind of pas
sionate and angry and silly talk, furious de
bate, and still more furious condemnation she
had stirred up. Her opinions were misquoted,
exaggerated and anathematized, and in the
next breath belauded, extolled and blessed, un
til she seemed a sort of monster half angel and
half fiend, for the salvation or the ruin of En
glish married life. And what made tbe matter
worse was that some of her allies of advanced
views went far beyond their new-born leader,
and pressed ber opinions to an andacious
length beyond ber utmost aim or intent. So
far. Indeed, was this carried that she bad to
write a second paper in the Westminster, to
modify and explain the first. But this tasted
flat and mawkish, like yesterday's ginger beer.
Few read it, and nobody but Jones wife cared
for it, or talked of it
Some called her a virafrn And nn woman
But. as I sat chatting with her and her husband
in my own drawingroom, she seemed to me to
be tbe last person In the world to deserve such
a name. A well-bred, well-dressed, dainty little
lady, with a soft and gentle voice, a pleasant
smite and a piquant expression of face, that
would go far to attract all who fell In her way.
To these certainly not unfeminine traits, a keen
observer mightbave added a dash of 'espieg
lierie' or playful frolic, which now and then
gleamed from a pair of eves that could do exe
cution when the fair owner pleased. We talked
of the weather, and tbe last murder; of books
and the best time for literary work, but not a
word as to woman's rights or woman's wrongs,
or advanced views of any kind. Then we shook
hands and I wished her a pleasant journey to
London, whither she was then going with her
husband, for a month or two's sojourn at her
beautiful country house at Hampstead. to
which she mostly resorts when she has literary
work on hand.
Tbe next tlmo I heard of Mrs. Mona Caird
was on the appearance of her new book, "The
Wing of Azrael" a romance of the deepest,
darkest type, I am told, in which she draws a
weird and terrible picture of a beautiful woman
in tbe hands of a brntal husband, and torwhich.
lb IB MIU, BUD UM UlftUD UUU ICriUS WIIU an JLO
glishand an American publisher. Whatever
its merits or dements, here in England it has
fallen rather fiat upon a public who, neverthe
less, are as eager about the question of mar
riage or divorce as ever. Viola, the heroine of
the story, is the daughter of parents on whom
commercial ruin is about to fall, to save whom
she at last resolves to sacrifice herself by mar
rying a man of great wealth, whom she posi
A TEAGIC STOBY.
He is a cruel and cowardly tyrant, who
makes her life an intoleraole burden, and at
last drives her to such a desperate despair that
m a sudden ntoi frenzy she stabs bim to tbe
heart with a small ornamental dagger which
he is trying to snatch from her by force. He
dies cursing her, and as he dies there suddenly
and opportunely enters on the scene a man who
had passionately loved her before her mar
riage, ana is now, like herself, aghast
at ine awiui ueeu oi oiooa. xxe urges
instant flight as tbe only possible means of
escape from tbe gallows, and if need be with
him. He declares her to be mad. She wildly
cries that sbe is lost, ruined, frantic deadl She
refuses to be saved, as having notblnc any
longer to do with bnman feelings or passion,
but henceforth dead. Tbe final chapter ot this
horribly entangled and weird story leaves the
readers in doubt as to whether sbe flung her
self headlong from a precipice, or perished bv
drowning in tbe sea, in either case, the end of
the tragedy is simply one of cbastly horror, out
of which each one must draw what moral be
can, if any moral there be.
For a time "Azrael's Wing" made a sensation
and was talked of atdinnertablesand discussed
in smoking rooms, dissected by many ladies,
old and young, and denounced by many ortho
dox f olkk as an nnirodlv book of Sata.ntn nrfr-in
Bnt, already, tho wave of silence and oblivion
hn begun to invade Its fame and blot out its
Infamy. In six months second-hand copies will
be cheap, if any lover of strong-minded ro
mance by a charming and advanced younj?
lady, be in search of savoury food. Meanwhile,
Mrs. Mona Caird seems to regard the whole
affair with calm complacency, apparently satis
fled with the L. , d. view of the qnestlon. and
content, in tbe absence of Miss Olive Scbrein
er, to take tbe chair at the recenf
LITEBABY LADIES' DINNER
celebrated at the Criterion, with much blow
ing of feminine trumpets. Tbe banquet was
recherche of fine courses. The guests were 23
in number, quaintly, richly and charmingly at
tired. No male person was present to mar the
enjoyment. The talk, after a brief preface,
waxed lifely, loud and ineessant Toasts were
duly honored; then came cofiua and cigarettes.
I J s&aoa "Oio UKM40, Ui tTUlbU UU, JO
I porter could gather a single sentence, some
(so says one who wag there) just tinged with
the slightest' soupcon ot Bobrmianism; and
then, at 11 P. it., the dainty symposium came
to an end. There was a cry for hansom cabs,
and into one of these swift vehicles was banded
Mrs. Mona Caird In ber gown of white and
gold brocade, with rosebuds in her dress and
In her hair.
To have presided at the flrst banquet of lit
erary women In England Is no small feather in
her cap. Tbe strange thing is that to such a
gathering, nnder so fair and famous a head,
there came but this one score of literary
women, and among tbem all scarcely one of
our best known authors. Where were Mrs.
Lynn Lynton, farr, Edwards, Macquoid
Miss Robinson, Mrs. Humphrey Ward, or even
Miss Edna Lyall. youngest and most prolific
of sweet novelists? Were they all afraid?
B. Q. Johns.
SCENES m OLD MEXICO.
The Church of San Fernando The Tombs
ofMnxImillnn's Companions Monu
ment to President Jpnrrz
t Stntne of Charles IT.
tWBITTIS FOB THZ DISPATCH.
City op Mexico, July 10. To-day I
strolled down to the Church of San Fer
nando, which is at one end of a little park,
and to the lelt of it is the Fanteon. A
Mexican lad responds cordially to my re
quest for admission, stops his play and un
locks the gate, and I am permitted to wan
der at my leisure among the homes of some
of Mexico's departed celebrities. On the
inner side of a colonnade supported by large
pillars, I find that the dead are pushed into the
wall, sealed up and a tablet cemented to tbe
outside. 1 have never seen humanity, having
served its purpose in this life, packed away
after this method.in tiers. I think these sepul
chers must be very old and I busy myself de
ciphering unfamiliar Spanish names and look
ing for dates. As far as I can learn the earliest
unsealing was in the' year 1833, and there is
nothine ancient in sight, unless the trees may
claim the distlnction.and I see nothing in them
to challenge my rererenco in this respect; there
are some .appropriate weeping willows and a
few cedars. Among these I And tbe tomb of
Mejia, and while I am admiring the neatness of
the monument, tbe sexton accosts me, anxious
to impart information and Impress me with his
command of English.
"Mejia, companion, Maximilian! Miramon?
Si." and he pointed to an inclosure nearer tbe
cburch. He started that way. and I followed,
to And the little court being torn up for re
pairs, bnt the granite block with the Initials
"M. M.," in gilt letters, was all I could see to
indicate tbe last resting place of this one of
tbe three unfortunates Tbe piles of debris
prevented my examining It on all sides. Wben
I went back under the trees I found the day-
licht guardian of the place busy with a cloth
anu learner duster about the marble monu
ment or Juarez.
THE MONUMENT OF JT7ABEZ.
A dorlc portico transported from some an
cient Greek temple may have been set down
here, or at least may have served as a model
for the protection, as well as adornment, of the
noble monument. From the stone floor upon
a stone foundation some four feet from the
ground rise 16 columns to a plain cornice sup
porting the roof. There are no ornamental
bases; the shafts beginning at the floor are
plain for a third of the way and thence fluted
to the simple capitals. Tbe architrave is with
out embellishment and the frieze relieved only
by triglypbs, the concave lower borders of
these being permitted to extend below the
upper line ot the architrave; the whole is
characterized by the severest simplicity. The
monument is easily observable from the out
side, but I was not contented with looking
throngb the pillars. As the man made no ob
jection I took the liberty of ascending the
steps. Tho figure of the dead President lies
draped in marble, one foot exposed and one
band projecting over the edge of the marble
couch; tho bead reposes on cushions, and a
female fienre, tjplcal of the republic, half re
clining, but with face upturned, seems aiding
in the support of tbe dead chieftain, as a loving
uiuiuer wouiu yet linger over tne inanimate
form of ber best beloved. It is tbe attitude of
one possessed of only a lmcering hope and sub
missively appealing to theTather to solve the
doubt if it be Indeed His will that their child
shall come to Him. The features of tbe ven
erated leader are, I presume, intended to be
preserved in the marble. It is a strong face,
witb a Arm mouth and broad, projecting brow.
The artistic execution of the work was, to me,
very delicate, and altogether an appropriate
and beautit ul 'tribute to tho noblest patriot
and guide that Mexico has known; and think
of this: He was an Indian! In further token
of respect tbe base of the monument, the col
umns, the frieze and cornice on the inner side
were literally covered with floral and other me
morial offerings, and among these I was grati-
fled to And our own national colors. '
MONUMENT OF CHABLES IT.
From the terrace ot Chapultepec I had no
ticed am equestrian statue in the distance and
at tbe end of a magnificent boulevard. In my
rambles this morning I had more than once
caught s ght of what I supposed to be the same
monument. Giving myself np to "general di
rections," 1 soon encountered the object of my
search it would be difficult to miss the me
mento of Charles IV. It is a single casting, I
was told, in bronze, weighing 30 tons. I do not
know its dimensions, and am skeptical on tho
the subject of giants. If it were possible to
elevate the statue a few hundred feet it might
become impressive; on its present pedestal It is
altogether too colossal. The artists set out to
accomplish a big thing, and this is tbe biggest
thing ot tbe kind ever accomplished on this
continent; one cannot make light of it. The
little lizards, however, insensible of the great
ness tbey clamber over, have converted it into
a gymnasium. One active fellow has taken it
upon himself to do duty as an eardrop for bis
royal highness, and be will bask there, perhaps,
like anv other courtier, whiln thA ann iliin..
upon bim; another runs up tbe imperial leg,
chased by a rival, while another, in sweet con
tentment, straddles tbe kingly nose. What
would become of this latter Iconoclast should
his majesty sneeze? It B. Fbancs.
THEI PREFER IRON.
People Who Live In a Stone Era and Don't
New York Sun.1
Here and there, in a few corners of the
world, people are still living in the stone age,
but it is observed that they are very glad to
emerge into the age of iron as they learn some
thing of the properties of that wonderful
metal, fir. Flnsch had an interesting expe
rience a while ago among the natives of North
western New Guinea.
The natives had already met a white man,
and bad seen axes and otber implements that
were far superior to their axes of stone or shell.
Tbey had also seen hoop iron, and had found
that they could make Implements of it. Dr.
Flnsch bad with bim a lot of looking glasses,
beads, finger rings and otber articles calculated
to please the fancy of the untutored savage.
But thcte gewgaws attracted but little atten
tion. TheTage in those parts has a very
practical side to his nature, and he called loud
ly for iron. The women and the yonng people
were pleased with the beads for a short time
but they soon tired of them. Even the Papuan
boys unhesitatingly threw down their handf uls
of beads if a little piece ot hoop iron was
offered to them.
It is easy to understand
that as soon as
people who have always used stone and shell
implements appreciate in some degree the ad
vantage of iron no present can be more accept
able to tbem than Iron. Dr. Flnsch found that an
Iron nail was 'a far more valned present than
tbe trinkets which delight the tribes of Africa.
who have long lived in the Iron age. Ho says
tho Papuans of New Guinea do not want raw
Iron, for they understand neither smelting nor
smithing, but iron in any manufactured form
that is convenient for their use is eagerly de
sired. They think a little ptecn of hoop iron is
a treasure, tor they haveJound that they can
sharpen it on a rock to-an edge or a point.
On tbe other hand, Dr. Finsch savs he met
natives on the south coast of New Guinea who
were still using stone axes,tbongh they bad iron
axes for some time. He was astonished to ob
serve the rapidity with which they could fell
treei and fashion Iocs into canoes with no
otber Implement than the stone ax of their
TAKING HEE PDPS HOME.
An Intelligent Doc Spends the Nlsht Swim
ming tbe Eaunlc
rfew York San. I
Mr. George Rally, who lives on the shore ot
the Passaic, New Jersey, owns a rough-coated
black female dog of no recognized breed, but
a very useful animal behind a gun on the
marshes. Recently Mr. Rally lent ber to a
friend, whose house is on the opposite shore of
the river. While with him she bore a litter of
nine pups. Soon after their birth she became
very uneasy, and evinced unmistakably her de
sire to take her family home. Sunday was the
eighth day after tbe birth of the pups, and yes
terday morning mother and little ones had
Abont breakfast time Mr. Rally saw tbe dog.
very wet and exhausted, walking Into the
stable carrying a doaapnp in her mouth. He
lollnwed ber to her old bed in a corner, where
she laid ber lifeless burden down with the four
otherpups that were lying there; all damp and
shivering, but very mncn alive and hungry.
She had spent tbe night in swimming with
tbem, one by one, across the Passaic, -but,
growing tired, the had earned her head too
low while making the last trip, and the fifth
pup was drowned.
BY A CLEKGYMAN.
IWBITTIN TOR TBI DISPATCH. 1
July and August are the American vaca
tion months. "Jack, when are you going,
and where?" "Julia, have you got every
thing in readiness for your summer trip?"
Such are tbe questions which are put on all
An occasional outing is desirable. But
its profit is conditioned by the use.
Two things are to be borne in mind when
planning for or enjoying a vacation. The
first is, thesecurmgof an entire change. Our
busy merchants and confined clerks and jaded
housewives should seek rest. Living fast at
home, they should bo leisurely while away. "I
will loaf." says Walt Whitman, "and invite my
soul." Get out in the open. Fill your lungs
witb ozone. You who are baked in the lnrnace
of the city, shut up in the office, drudging in
the store, not-honied in toe dwelling, reverse
the accustomed way. You will find recreation
The other thing to remember Is fiat a vaca
tion should be 60 enjoyed that the resumption
of ordinary nork shall not seem "weary, flat,
stale and unprofitable." It. in the contempla
tion of an outing you relax your interest in
everyday duties, and if in resuming these
duties they appear dull and worthless, you
have paid dearly for your play. The readjust
ment to wonted affairs ought to be delightful.
You are under obligations to those who have
given you the outing to take up your inter
rupted work with fresh vigor and buoyancy
and not to stop in your interest several weeks
before you actually get away.
This midsummer madness is becoming a
serious matter in church, life and work. The
filling up of tbecountrymeans the emptying of
the city. And all classes go away earlier each
summer and return later. Religious Interests
are affected variously and harmfully. The
whole period of absence Is struck out ot the
cburch year. This means a tbin attendance at
all the meetings and the stoppage ot active
effort. Moreover, the parishioners begin to
think of and plan for the summer long before
they leave town; so that a month or two previ
ous to their departure they cive up this and
decline that because they are soon coiug away.
After tbey return, some time is passed in the
readjustment of home life and business duties.
Tbe autumn Is often well advanced before tbey
are at their old post.
Nor is this all. There Is a growing tendency
to surrender tbe pews at tbe advtnt of warm
weather, and to retake them in the fall. In this
way tbe churches are deprived or a vital por
tion of their annual income. They lose dollars
at the same time that thev lose attend.
ants and workers. Thus the year is cut down a
third both in work and income. 'Tis a serious
matter. Perhaps the loss of families in the
summer is irreparable. The loss of income is
disgraceful. People ought to be ashamed to
make the chnrches pay their vacation expen
ses. Christianity va Infidelity.
The editor of one of the orightest and most
'popular American periodicals has this to say
regarding the argument for Christianity from
One of the tricks of the Infidel, and one by -I
wnicn ne often catches the unwary, is to
quietly assume that the brain of the world is
on his side, and that only a few women, clergy
men and milksops cling to the belief in a God
who has revealed Himself to men and who di
rectly soverns the affairs of earth. Mr. Robert
Ingersoll is constantly making this assumption,
never realizing, apparently, that it is one of the
easiest possible to dispute. It needs but a
cursory acquaintance with literature and his
tory to refute this assumption. Since Mr. In
gersoll is pi ominently before the public, take
him as a type of the modern atheist. Mr. In
gersoll says that there is no God, at least no
snch Uod as the one In whom Christians be
lieve. Mr. Ingersoll claims to be something of
a philosopher, but Lord .Bacon, tbe greatest
Shilosopher of the age affirms that there is a
od. Mr. Ingersoll cays there Is no God, and
his statements gain force and currency from
the marvelous poetic diction ot which he Is
master; but the greatest poet of the English
jaukuakc, iuuwu, aajrs lucre IS a UOU,
and be sang some of his sweetest
hymns in His praise. Mr. Ingersoll says the
Christian God does not exist, aud be is un
doubtedly an orator of high rank: but Daniel
Webster, an orator of far higher rank, the
greatest orator of our century and our country,
said there is a God. and the most tremendous
thought which could come to his soul was bis
accountability to that personal God. Mr. In
gersoll says there Is no God. and he professes
to be a statesman; but the greatest of living
statesmon, Mr. Gladstone, sais there is a God,
and daily prays to Him for guidance. Now the
argument of authority is worth something, it
ongbtto weigh iarcely with those wholiavo
not the time nor opportunity for original re
search. We bare mentioned a very few of the
more prominent Christian believers. To Ba
con and Milton and Webster and Gladstone
and Johnson and Shakespeare and Ad
dison and Faraday and Acasiz and Wash
ington and Lincoln and 10,000 others
01 mo uess ana greatest mat tne world has
known, scholars and scientists, poets and ora
tors, statesmen and patriots, martyrs and be
roes, men who have given their lives to the in
vestigation of these subjects, and have offered
up their 'Ives for the maintenance of the truth
as they saw it. Place them on one side and on
the other side put Ingersoll and those who sym
pathize with him. In tbe latter company we
will And a few brilliant intellects here and
there, a Voltaire, a Ronsseau. a Paine, but only
here and there such a one, if wa search the
centuries through: but we will find a crowd of
misanthropes, of sensualists, of drnnkards and
adulterers, of f ree-Iorers and murderers, shud
dering for tear of retribution; and theoemen
all shout aloud, as if to drown their fears.
"There is no God. there Is no God." With
which throng shall we stand?
A Growing Society.
The annual convention of the United Society
of Christian Endeavor was held in Philadel
phia July 9-11. and was tbe most successful and
lnterestlnc ever held. The statistics up to
July 1, 1889, are as follows:
A grand total of 7.672 societies is found on the
record, of which 7,586 are reported as in the
United States and Canada. These societies
average something over 60 members each, and
It is safe to say that there are 4S5.O0O members
in those reported. There are. however, hun-
ureus peruana uiuuganus 01 Bocieues OI wblch
we hare no record, and these would bring tbe
sura total of members to a much larger fljjure.
In 2,141 of tbeso societies which reported the
number which have joined the cburch we And
that 15,072 have taken this step, wnich Indi
cates tbat not less than 45,000 in all. at a moder
ate estimate, have ben received from the
societies into the churches of the land.
The following is the representation by States:
Alabama, 6: Arizona. 3; Arkansas 5; California.
211: Colorado, 80; Connecticut. 352: Dakota. 84;
Delaware, 21; District of Columbia, 19; Florida,
32; Idaho, 1, Illinois, 541: Indiana, 169; Indian
Territory, 7; Iowa, 336; Kansas, 223; Kentucky,
30; Louisiana. 6; Maine. 181: Maryland, 35; Massa
chusetts, 742: Michigan, 262; Minnesota, 213;
MississiDni. 3: Missouri. 207: Montana. 4: Ne
braska, 161; New Hampibire, 135; New Jersey.
279: New Mexico. 4; New York, 1.3S7; North
Carolina, 11: Ohio, 465: Oreson. 41; Pennsyl
vania, 434; Rhode Island. 68: Senth Carolina. 18;
Tennessee. 23: Texas, 21; Utah, 20: Vermont.
150; Virelnia, 4; Washington. 37; West Virginia,
9; Wisconsin. 226; Wyoming, 4; British Prov
inces, 213. Total, 7,580.
Leadership In 1 ho Church.
Whether in Cburch or State leadership is at
once essential and difficult. Everybody re
members Shakespeare's description of the
three different ways in which leadership Is at
tained: "Somo are born great, some achieve
neatness, and some have greatness thrust
upon them." Whichever of these categories a
man may belong to, 'tis certain that he will
wish, sooner or later, that ha might discard the
people. Envy, like death, "loves a shining
mark." Anyone can criticise; few know how
to give an initiative.
Leadership does not necessarily ?o with the
heaviest brain. It is the outcome of a certain
plus. Wnere there is couage, where there is
dash, where there is a willingness to take tbe
chances', where there is readiness and fertility
of resources there is jour preordained
Men often aim at this fnnctlon and usually
miss it. Bnt as snmeore must bold office anil
direct affairs in Churc and State, those who
tre called to conspicuous service are entitled
o charitable judgment, and a helping hand.
If you don't swear by the Governor, don't
swear at him. Still less should you swear
prayers at your minister. Co-operation is the
best remedy for fa.ult-fiadlng.
Though! for ihe fabbmb.
Mysteries are with God; emulation ot the
divine character with us.
Oub greatest glory consists not in never fall
ing, but in rising every time we tM. Selected
"Two things a master commits to his serv
ant's care," saith one, "the child and the child's
clothes." It would be a poor excuse for the
servant to say at Ids master's return: "Sir, here
are all tbe child's clothes neat and clean; but
the child Is lost!" Much so will be the account
tbat many will give to God ot their souls and
bodl'S at tbe day of account: "Lord, here Is
my body; I was very careful of It. I neelected
nothing tbat belonged to its welfare. But my
sonl that is lost. I took little care about that."
One lie must be hatched with another, or it
will soon wain through., Selected,
THE FIRESIDE SPHIEO
A ColleGtion of EnipiaM Ms foi
Address communication for this- department
to E. R. Chadboubn. Lewiston, Maine.
667 HOW MANY TBANSFOBMATIONS?;
Once, as I wandered up and down
The quaint streets of a foreign town,
I saw a curious looking fellow
Sheltered beneath a hug" umbrella;
And, while I wondered at the throng
That followed in his path along, -
He to the eager crowd displayed
The symbols of a juggler's trade.
First, poising high a weapon bright,
Lo! luscious fruit appears in sight.
He cuts tbe rind or outer parr.
And leaves an organ for its heart.
Next, with his lance he mows the grain
And plants, nor lets one spire remain.
Again he holds bis pointed dart.
Again cuts off the outer part:
Prestol we see a vegetable
Evolved with ease from Darwin's f able!
And now he wields his wondrous dart
To illustrate his mine art.
And turns it o'er, as oft before.
To analyze it yet once more.
Again he holds the wand upright,
Then drops a second out of sight.
And turns the remn.int o'er to say,
"The dry leaves' fall on autumn day
Marks dates and changes, and it measures
The frugal Frenchman's dearest treasurea."
"Wondrons magician." here I cried,
"Retain your weapon, true and tried,
Headless, curtailed, 'tis equal still.
For, turned, it deals a blow at wilt,"
Atrain he poises in his hand
His simple lance, a magic wand.
"See! cleft in twain, a fragment lost,
Upon tbe billows it is tossed.
Enough! No more I may reveal,
If I my secret would conceal;
And yet within this wand I hide
Tbe waters of the ocean wider' ,
668 HOUSEHOLD SKELETONS.
Two college chums were married the sama
day, and when tbey met aea in tbe year that lay
between held much of weal which each would
tell the other; but while tbey chatted .gaily on
each felt a secret dread because of promise
Ion since given which bound him on hxs honor
to make known at tneir first interview if all
were nectar In bis cud of bliss; if in bis ointment
jar, by anv deadly chance, an insect small had
straved: in other word.-, if half a .hundred
week? perchance had brought to light fanit ,
for which a loving consort might with justice
Ibe time to separate drew on apace, and so
the topic shunned so long at length came up
permost, when each did modestly protest his
daily walk was snch that e'en the parason of
virtues he called wife could find no lack or
flaw to accuso him wherewithal except,
"Well." quoth tho franker one. " 'tis such x
bagatelle, the merest trifle, scarce a fault at
all. at most a falling of the venial fiort, I really
blush to own ray sponse has shown, a time or
two. a little warmth because When I came.
home from tdwn I brought not with me this or
that her memorandnm called for. as thus:
'Imprimis, fail not to bring hornet to-night tnjr
JSuster bonnet.' Now, could you but have Seen
how charmingly her winter hat became ber
lovely face, you woold agree, I'm sure, ray
ailing to remember furnished small excuse for
such a with'riug blaze as set bsr eyes alight,
and scorched me through and throngb, to be a
moment later quenched in tears, sweet har
bingers ot gentler thoughts, and high self-ab-nezation.
as she said: "Well. then, we'll stay
athoine." In very sooth (Iwill confess to you)
tbe stress of my environment was such L
seemed pro tcm. to truly be thar which her aU.
too speaking eyes had openly declared a
guilty wretch indeed.
"Ab. say vou so. my friend! Tho pangs you.
suffered thenmy heart hath likewise known.and
for the selfsame small neglect.f or disremember
ing. And to this weakness (wonld you know
what plunges me in deeper gulfs of marital re-
proacni aua. wjtnout stop lor pause. a
word that means 'to dry in the sun's rays: tori
pen or prepare . by exoosure to the sun.' This
brace of words, ranged sido by side, and read
as five, reveals tho reason that my wife would
give aye, thousands more of other wives
throushout our land if frankly they would
answer for what cause thev visit on their al-
wise perfect lords the pain of tbeir displeas-'
Ufa" tl 1 Bnv TuAnn n.
I'm used entire to gibe at you.
To insult and to sneer;
If you behead me in a rage,
A fool I shall appear.
So clownish my demeanor then.
You will, without a doubt.
Knock off my foolish bead again.
And find my brains are out.
Mrs. EL G. 8.
Across. L A corpse. 2." Pirates. 3. The first
minister of state. 4. (Naut.) A rope at the.
bow eta boat, used to fasten it to anythinc.
5. A thick woolen stuff quilled or twilled. 6.
Necessary for supply or relief. 7. To bring to
nancbt. Dorm. I. A letter. 2. A Roman weight of.
twelve ounces. 3. A kind of stuff having a sur
face annearinc as thoue'i made of small cords.
4. (Ichth.) A family of soft-finned fresh water
Ashes. 5. Retrograde. (Ob.) 6. (Geog.) Per
taining or belonging to the Island of Samoa. 7.
Confined. 8. A long seat with a back. 9.
(Mns.) Certain thin pieces of wood attached
to the mouth-pieces of instruments ot the clar
ionet species. 10. A chink. 11. A knot la
wood. 12. Look. 13. A letter. CalANDO.
671 A THBEATENED TBANSFOBSIATIQJt.
Fair maiden, when you see
The letter G
Coining toward yon turn and flee.
Get you away.
And do not stay:
For even worse your fate will be
Than-old Lot's wife.
Who for her life
Could not restrain her curiosity,
But looked to see
How Sodom burned.
And so sbe turned.
Turned into salt immediately.
Then haste and flee.
Or vou will be
Qhanged in a twinkling; even aa she.
Perhaps you now
Can tell me how
The thing will be. J. A.
Tbe prizes, offered for June answers are won
by Anna Gramme, Pittsburg, and Oliver Twist,
Pittsburg. Their lists were very closely fol
lowed by those of J. Boscb, Henrietta, S. R,
Froideveaux, A. B. Oy, L. R. P. and Hadley.
659. Tbe author's arrangement:
I'M' I l"lH ) fTTj
cMl I hlf)
."I'ItM poAl r-0g5
H"l1 I MAKES 1
68L The flgnre erased was 2. The number
thought or by Perkins was 203, and the opera
tion performed was as follows:
Tbe multiplier given by Jones Is a multiple
1L Any other multiple ot 11 wonld b.vra
answered equally well, as, for instance, 22, 113,
132. etc In tbe product obtained by multiply
ing anv number by a multiple of IL the sum of
th odd digits ;that is to say. the first, third,
fifth, etc.) is eqnal to the sum of the erven.
digits. For instance, ih tuO above product, the
sum ot tbe old digits. I. e., tbose in heary-f iced
type. Is 2 plus 5 plus 3 equal 10. and that of tbs
even digits is 4 plus 6 equal 10. Knotting,
therefore, tbat the first dirft was tbs! one
erased, Jones found what tnls was by abiding '
together tbe two even digits (4 pins 6 eqtal 10)
and subtracting from tins sum tbe" sum of ths
two odd digits which he knew (5 plus 3 equal
8). Tbe remainder T.10 minus 8 equals. 2) was
tbe required number. The same trick can bs '
done with any figure In the product, provided,
the "mind reador" knows what position thi
required number occupies In the result, so that
be can determine which are the odd arid which,. -tbe
662 The Promised Land. , ;
663 In five hours.
664 Beagle, eagle. - i
665- N . ., 4; ,
N E F ;,"
P E E R 8 .
NEEDLEOR.E " .
T R O N E -.
END ' . ;j
e66-C-lr . , .. r Vjr-