1 - ji All ggiiif 8 iSlfe ill Spfcfcia B. F. BCHWEIER, I THE CONSTITUTION THE ONION AND THE ENFORCEMENT OP THE lAWH. gdtor4 Piupitoi . VOL U. X MIFFLINTOWN. JUNIATA COUNTY. PENN A.. WEDNESDAY. J U1SE )'. 1897. NO. 20, r iV t F f I CHAPTER XXVI. The distance from New Cavendish street to Huston Station is by no means a long one, but It seems to Edith Cameron that they Lave been driving for at leust n hour before the lights of the station come in sight. . "Do you think it likely she has gone to Ireland?" she asks her companion, break ing the silence for the first time. "She could not have been in time for the mail train to Holyhead at all events," he answers, and then nothing more can be said, as the cab is rattling over the tony pavement in front of the station. As Edith enters she perceives a soli tary figure seated by the table; a ladv, evidently, judging by the well-bred atti tude, by the ivory whiteness of the hand and wrist thai export the pensive hcad A. second glance reveals to her tl at it i Muriel Llewellyn! And Edit'u advance with the easiest smile and the most cure less grace imaginable. "Why, Muriel!" she says, l"i her soft est, most languid, triauante tones "what brings you here, of all places on earth?' Muriel starts up suddenly, crimsoning, and then growing ashy i.ole. "I am going back to Ireland! Going to see a friend of mine in Dublin. Miss Cameron," she says, hesitatingly, and yet trying in vain to oppose a chilling dig nity to Edith's sunay smile and easy half auiused curiosity. 7,.'MAb. h rr nili;t ... Bumiiw'jc:"' till. "Must you go to-nighf, "3r.;;.'er-i- Couldn't you put It off for a day or two, aud yon and I might go together? That would be nice, wouldn't it? I came here to hunt up a friend, and, if I am not suc cessful, I must travel some distance my self this cold night, but 1 devoutly hope I hall not have to do so. I would much prefer being at home in bed, with a good fire In my room wouldn't you?" Tears are rolling down Muriel's cheeks Dow, and a sob of weary misery and ex haustion chokes her utterance. I did not think you cared for me like this," she says. Edith stoops down and kisses her again. "Yes. I do, dear," she says, iu a low, hurried tone, and Muriel bursts into a flood of tears, clinging passionately to her new-found friend; and Edith knows her cause is almost won and her influence over Muriel is almost sure. Come outside now. Hn'M, -rnd let 'tis ,tb jiton .wcud air will do uiirlicud good," she suggests but Muriel shrinks back folornly, with a deep, quick sigh. "You don't understand," she says, al most bursting into tears again. "1 am de . termined to go over to Ireland, and I will not go back to New Cavendish street." For a moment even VMith's ready wit fails her, and she stands nonplussed be fore the quiet determination in the girl's white face. She acconipanie Muriel me chanically on to the. departure platform, where, before they have, traversed half its length, tuey come face to face with Cap tain Leverson, staring everywhere still for a possible glimpse of the missing Mu riel. "How do you do, Captain Leverson?" exclaims Edith. "How odd thnt yon should be here also! Really, Muriel, dear, this is what somebody calls 'a concatena tion of circumsiaui-es,' iBn't It? You 'know my cousin, Mrs. Eric Llewellyu, Captain leverson V" Muriel Ikiws slightly and shrinks; for. with the best will in the world to keep up to Miss Cameron's brilliant ideas, Cuptniu leverson cannot avoid staring a little wildly, not to say stupidly, and looking about distractedly for his cue. "Please don't look so dreadfully aston ished at meeting us in such a place at such n hour," Edith pleuds, gaily. "Muriel chaperons uie, and I take care of Muriel, and we came here to take care of friends. And in order to heap coals of fire on your head. Mrs. Llewellyn and I will wait to say adieu to you. You are going by this train. I presume?" "Yets that is certainly I am!" he says, at first slowly, and then rapidly and with great decision. "By-the-by, I must get my ticket" with an imploring glance, to say he is out of his depth here, aud Captain Leverson hurries away. "Muriel, you musn't you daren't go now!" says Edith, hurriedly. "Captain Leverson knows Eric, child! You heard how I was trying to explain our apiear ance here without servants or escort! You would be the cause of most frightful family trouble and destruction if you at tempted to go-" "I shall never tarnish Eric's honor." she says, slowly, in a low, trembling voice, and of her own accord she turns away from the sight of the traiu now teady to start. "I shall thank you as you deserve an other time," Edith murmurs to Captain Leverson. as she presses his hand, ami though the guard is actually waiting to hut the carriage door, he pauses to mur mur Due . 'I am more tlinn reworded already." And ih.n the train puffs and shrieks and glides away, and Edith in the calmest ir.aiii.er possible, though her heart is ILi-obbing fast with grateful relief and ex. iini.eiit, gets into a hansom beside Muriel, mid they arc driven back to New Cavendish street, arriving there about twenty minutes past ten o'clock. HAi'TER XXVII. After that evening a perceptible change -cmes over Muriel; and the shadow thnt has fallen iiK,n her deepens as it abides, ns the weeks and months of thnt sad vear pass auay. and she has been cnlled by Lnc Llewellyn's name ton months and more, and it is nearly the anniversary i ome round to the time when she met him hrst. and she is sian.ling in the sclf-sniuo place w here she stood when Miles came to wyfuily ; announce to her. "Kric is coming Ht last! She is l,.,et ,.Uilin at Curragh dene but Miieg h:,s go,... away from the old home for evermore, nj the autumn "Ll:i WKIKu'yiird. and Eric Llewellyu is thousands r.f miles awav. parted, alienat ed, as far from tier as if the Dark Kivet rolled between them twain also. He who Lad been lover and husband in that brief, brief glimpse of happiness is neither lover nor friend now, and the tie that binds him and her has shrunk am' narrowed into the one loose, cold fetter, but the fetter is of steeL and naught but death can break It. Deep down in her girlish heart there is a passionate love for him yet existing, In spite of his coldness and cruel desertion; but her fear of him. nd a shrinking dread of the ideal she conjures up for Lim, aro almost equal to her love. She doesinot know poor, hapless girl, how shnul.Arihe? that there is a delis ex machiuu eV- interposing -ju the shape of Hester Stateton's cruel 'hands filching remorseless! I the message of love that would have Jaddened her ra. cold water to a thirsty l il." Hettie is so quick and clever and wi .les such charmingly graphic letters, and 1 ar Eric" beiiig "quite like a brother." sh. has quite tauten upon her the part of J ily correspondent, and so she fills the saeets of for c??! post with her ck-ur, inci.,ive, blackly written raligraphy; reading' uloud all the merry, witty well-turned sentence, to her aunt: I provoking smiles aud tears from the mother's heart; anj omitting a few of those sentences and interpolations which are for Eric's benefit and not for his mother's eyes and ears. She would not have permitted thnt cleverly sketched tale of her daughter-in-law's escapade which Muriel felt obliged to confess to her mother-in-law in whi h poor Muriel's name and Captain Lev..rsou's name were un pleasantly entwined -to be sent to Eric, and to be read by him with a darkening brow and a rantjng pain, which settles into hardness auI numbuess as the wound heals. But he receives no enlightenment, fur he seeks none; and Muriel's cold, brief letters prow rarr as the year passes on; nud Edith never writes to him. The year pnsvs on, and the month of August comes- dull, arid, sultry August, ,, I, , . .. .1 . ...J "t ripen the grain quickly Vnough-,-J Parches the aftergrass, and destroys some '.f the marker-garden crops altogether, anc when life itself seeuta a weariness and !ue wheels of existence drag. Danefield Triory is not a Jocund nbode at any time as, indeed, ia not to be expected in a feminine household of the "upper middle" class under the staid rule of a prim, elderly matron but in these silent, sultry, depressing summer dajf t is almost dreary aud forlorn. Mrs. Llewellyn Bits pale and silent aud shivering by her bedroom fire, striving hard to meet the blow that has fallen on her as a Christian and a gentlewoman. She had invested six thousand pounds, representing all her savings, in foreign securities, which are now worth little more than the paper that represents them. The price is down to something not worth mentioning. She will lose all but a pitiful fraction if she sells out; she may lose even this J she holds the bonds r LAI irUv uiraflB uailist Hope," these six months. No wonder the poor woman shivers and weeps a little, and reads her Bible dole fully, and gets small comfort from it. as doleful and weak-faith Christians always lo. She rather shrinks from her clever niece in this time of trouble, and poor Muriel she peevishly looks upon as only an increase of responsibility. So she be wails herself to Edith alone, finding a balm in even the sunny temper and bright insouciance that she yet dolefully chides. "She can't do anything at present," Edith says, gravely to Hester. "She is a irood deal crushed, and we must make every allowance for her." "Does that mean that we are to give up jur 'allowance?' " Hester asks, sharply, with an angry brow. "For I won't, most issuredly! Sooner than stand any more f aunt's stinginess, and pinching, and saving, I'll go out as a governess, or an actress, or a telegraph clerk, and earn my bread!" "I have got a notable plan in my head. Hettie, with which I hope yon will help Tie," Edith says. "Nothing will do aunt to much good as change of air and scene change for a good long time and the deli rious idea that she is saving a little money by the change at the same time. So s plan flashed across my mind like a posi tive inspiration, by which we could all have change of air and scene, lake and mountain scenery, too, at a mere nominal -cut shut up Danefield for six months, lismiss all the servants but Clarkson and .is wife, and let him have the sale of the ruit and vegetables and ten shillings a veek, as we did when we went to Cannes. . on know, aud let ns go over to Ireland, to Curraghdene, Muriel's old home, which the is longing most passionately to see, as hose funny Irish people always do long to cp the country again and again that they Joii't care to live in at any price. There! .vhnt do you think of my plan?" "The very idea Is wretchedness itself !" Hester says, with much indignant dis .'ut. "and I should like to kuow the nr riere pensee that tempts you to exile your elf from all society in a horrible place ike that!" Hut she receives no enlightenment on his point, and Edith's persistence and j n rallied good temper bring her off best n the conflict, and Mrs. Llewellyn dole fully acquiesces and Muriel is as glad as he can be of anything just now, and Mr. Sutton, Sylvester's guardian, is extreme ly glad at the idea of six months' care ful tenancy of th empty house left in H.ninau O'Neil's care. And so, by the hii-d week in September, Muriel finds herself in her old home once more, all the ower and inanimate things unchanged; ill that made it her homo gone out of it forever. CHAPTER XXVIII. Muriel often goes, in her morbid loneli iess. to sit leside her brothel's grave in Derrylossary churchyard she goes there me still, hazy afternoon, and for the first iiue Edith accompanies her. "And do you kuow. Edith," Muriel says, n wondering tones, as they kneel down i.v the grassy oblong, with its snowy mar lie kerbs nd cn""d headstone, on which tho ler. familiar name, "Miles O tiara,' mmm tn o-U.m out cruelly distinct, "this I. tha third time I have found fresh flow- era Ia Id on dear Miles' grave! Look at this lovely little cluster of pale, monthly row. and white ceraniums um t wisn i knew who it was who loved my darling so well, and remember him so fondly! ha crnm with tears. n.. nnt anch tears as Edith Cameron beds, as she sinks down and lays her face and her outstretc-neo arm. u cold, damp sod. ., ... "Oh, Muriel! Muriel!" she wails, with terrible, hopeless pain in her otee, "M waa me! It was me! I loved him! I 1,.. hi. Kft.i- than all the world D- u. .ni I .hail inv him till I die!" S "Oh, Edithl dear Edith!" Muriel says amazed and trembling, "'" her, "I never kuew-never drenied ot this! Mile, never told me." This U said very wistfully. , , "Miles never knew," Edith y-rbrif: rising from the grave, and tears. "Mjjea nejqr knew. A wma jss proud, and too ambitious, and too calcu lating and mercenary to let him kuow, though I knew he cared for me. - So you see, Muriel" and she pushes gently away her clinging arms "you need not credit me with any great depth of tenderness, or constancy. Here lies the only man I ever loved, or shall love. But I am going to marry another man for all that. I am going to marry Captain Leverson as soon as he is rich enough." She even laughs harshly at Muriel's shocked eyes and quivering lips. "Not without kve. surely?" the young er girl urges. "Oh, Edith! Not without love. It is a crime to marry without lover "Love!" repeats Edith, drearily. "Love and tears go together; love and death are often aide by side; love and woe are synonymous. What has love done for you, Muriel? Left you with a blighted youth and a widowed heart before you are twenty! And yet you love him?" - "Yea, Edith," Muriel says, simply and cfearly. "I love my husband, Eric Llew ellyn, very dearly." And then Edith Cameron puts her arms around the slender figure, trembling with emotion, draws her into her warm, sister ly embrace, and kisses her tenderly, while smiles and tears struggle for the mastery in her fuce. "i knew that, my dear little Muriel! 1 knew that from the first," she says, soft ly, "but I meant to make you confess it! And I am almost equally sure on the othei side." "On Eric's side?" Muriel asks, flushing deeply, and then paling until her very lips are cold and white. "He does not love me, Edith. I know it well." "I do not question your superior right to a decision on that point, my dear," Edith says, in her careless, graceful way, "only, if I suggested the possibility of your being a little mistaken, what pledge would you demand to prove my word true?" "What pledge?" repeats Muriel, and her heart quickens its beatings. "I don't un derstand you! What do you know? What huve you to tell me? Oh, Edith, do tell ue if you know anything that I don't know!" she pleuds piteously. "Did he ever write to you or is he coming home, or what?" "He did not write to me, certainly." Edith says, "nor do I kuow any more than you do of his inteutions. But I believe, Muriel, he sent a Tuessage to you which you have never received,"? message of his love to you." "Which I never receive!!" Muriel ex claims, her eyes gleaming.' "Who kept my husband's message from pie?' "That I cannot tell you, fr I do not know," Edith answers, briefly,. "but there wui t a friend of mine at Cirl"Hbdeiie this evf.nnlr-Sd you shall henV hat be has to lell you. Mine would be uTiry m?u say evidence, so I would rather say no more.1' Qu1y tell me one thing," poor Muriel P,ea.da, with childish entreaty, hardly bl'd to believe her sense, in the miugled Pain and pleasure of Edith's news, "is tDis person who is to tell me' a friend ? Eric's ?" 05? I "Certainly he is," Edith says, with . "And of yours, Edith?" "I trust so," she answers, coldly -and gravely, and the smile fades, "since he is the man I am going to marry. "Captain Leverson!" repeat. Muriel, in an accent of disappointment. "I thought I hoped it was some one who bad sceu Eric lately." "It ia Captain Leverson, Edith re peats. "Aud, by the way, Muriel," she asks, playfully, turning the conversation, "when are you going to treat yourself tu a jacket, you little miser? "Not this winter," Muriel says, winc ing a little In girlish discomfort, though he trie, to speak unconcernedly. "Why, dear?" urges Edith, looking amazed. "Yon have plenty of money, and you could get a nice one for thirty-five guineas. "No; I cannot afford one this winter, repeats Muriel. "I am sorry if I look shabby; but I really cannot spend thirty- five guineas on a new Jacket. "Because you have given all your hus band's generous allowance to yon into bit mother's hands, disdaining, in your pride and unforgiving temper, to be beholden to him, says Edith, coolly, and because you gave Hester Stapleton a hundred pounds to gratify her vanity and self-as sertion; you are so foolishly generous and childishly desirous of pleasing people r "How do you know?" asks Muriel flushing scarlet and looking troubled. "By a process of induction, my dear," Edith answers, dryly. (To be continued.) Manna In the Wilderness. On the great deserts of Siberia, and In parts of the African Sahara, a gray. eatable lichen grows In Immense quan tities. It Is known as the manna lichen. Its chief peculiarity is that it has little or no adhesion to the soil, and so Is carried away in masses by the first strong wind. During the siege of Herat, when famlue was devastating the city- clouds of this uianna lichen began tu fall like rain, saving many from tke pangs of hunger. No doubt it had bceu carried into the upper air by a wind storm. The natives of the Siberian steppes call this lichen "earth bread.' and both themselves and tbelr cattle eat It. It ia for human consumption boiled like reindeer moss, with broth or milk, or ground and mixed with flour for bread. NEWS FROM SOUTH AFRICA. The Rhodesian Times. The Civil Coimiiis-sioiierfrom the cape has sent a certain to nine for the destruc tion of locusts, and its success has been such that niggers have come as far as fifty miles to get the "n.outee." Not only so, but they declare that M'linio told them that the white man had broucht the locusts, and that as now he is combating the plague they are willing he should stay. At public auction on Saturday and Wednesday last cows averaged 31. and oxen 25. Wagons with donkey spans fetched from 255 to 3U5. Three wagons with spans of oxen reliazed 30ti, ft'sl and C25 respectively. The question of the discretionarv pow er of magistrates to order the punish ment of the lash arose in connection with the review and quashing of a sen tence of thirty lashes imposed by the magistrate at Ruluwayo upon a man des ignated John Goodman, for theft, Good man having been previously convicted of drunkenness. Mr. Justice Wa'er meyer said that the Magistrate had wired him that magistrates by being uo barred from inflicting laches were pro hibited from imposing the only eflk-a-cions penaltr for offences by natives tbaf they had. The Justice said the case mentioned showed how dangerous it was to give magistrates the power referred to,. The man convicted might have lieen a white man, or at any rate a civilized ntitive. He would not confirm sentence of- lashes unless the prisoner was an old ofender and convicted previously of su ni'ar crimes. The man who never makes any blunder i a very clever niece of machinery- that's all. i fgABB lrj Men. Longest Ntajht. During Dr. Nansen's Arctic Journey his ship, the Fram, remained for five and a half mouths, from Oct. 8, 18tio. until March 24, lWMi, out of sight of the sun. "This," Dr. H. R. Mill, the En glish geographer, remarks, "was the longest and darkest r.lgbt ever expo rienced by man." Fast Trains. According to a European authority, ouly two regular express trains on the coutiuejot of Europe, one runuiog from Paris to Nice aud the other from Os teud through Germany to the Russian frontier at Eydtkuhueu, average so much as thirty-eight and a half miles per hour. The same authority esti mate: the average express speed be tween New York and Chicago at about forty-eight and a third miles per hour, almost ten inllea faster than the best European time. Insect. tn.ea Darwin and other naturalists have believed that the bright colors of flow era serve to attract lu-secta. Prof. I'lu teau of Ghent disagrees with this opin ion, and thinks that the sense of smell Is the one chiefly concerned in causLng lu sects to frequent certain flowers. He finds that the removal of the brilliant petals of flowers to which Insects are accustomed to resort does not decrease the frequency of their visits, and on the other band, that wueu honey is placed on flowers which are naturally scent less. Itisects immediately begin to flock to thein. Wh.le-KIIHnK with KlectricltT. A Canadian sea-captain has Invented an apparatus with which he thinks whales can be killed by electric shock. A harpoon Is fixed at the end of a long metallic cable, propuriy Insulated, aud which serves In place1 of the usual rope. Tbroncb ht c-i . Pji'ar jorrent of lUHHJyJ of a dyuaino The invent -would te aoits would receive entered its side, Vluhtla T. Im eLrl 1"? i. suxT..kis: 1 i-ki. j iur is U'Uiojl acoiaug. Trades Gazette, the King of rives a considerable revenue license fet- exacted for the etbv e prlvtvire of keeping fighting fish. The fish are described aa being long and slender, "not thicker than a child's finger," aud very ferocious. The moment they are placed together la a vessel of water they dart at one another, and the on lookers become so excited over the con test that they wager anything they have at baud on the success of their favorite fish. Bursting SteeL An experiment which demonstrated die capacity of steel to endure greater pressure than the hardest stone was recently made at Vienna. Corundum was chosen for the 'stone, and small cubes of both - jbstanees were placed under pressure. A weight of six tons smashed the corundum, but forty-two tons were required to crush the steel. When the steel did give way, the ef fects are described as most remarka ble. With a loud explosion, the metal flew Into powder, and 1U sparks are said to have bored minute holes In the "rushing machine. The Indiana' Pip. Qn.rrr. Im Southwestern Mluuesota la a cele brated quarry where the Indiana have for centuries obtained a soft red stone out of which they carve pipes. The quarry belongs to the Sioux, to whom it was ceded by the United States Gov ernment forty years ago. Mr. A. H. Gottschall says this Is the only place In America, and probably In the world, where this particular kind of atone is found. Many tribes of the red men formerly resorted to the quarry, and the plpeetone seems to have been an ar ticle of commerce among them, for It has been found In Indian graves scat tered all the way from the Great Lakes to the Gulf of Mexico. It has also been found aa far west as the Rocky mous tains, and In British America. Klectric hlcvrle Lltrht. A St. Louis Inventor has patented a device by means of which a bicycle rider may furnish himself with an elec tric headlight, the necessary current Itelng generated by the revolution ef the wheels of the machine. A governor Is provided which keeps the current substantially uniform, so that the light does not die out If the speed is reduced, or blaze too brilliantly when the speed Is increased. By throwing the shaft that rotates the armature Into gear as darkness comes on, the wheelman at once provides himself with a light; but of course he has to work for It. as It, Is his own muscles that form the source of the energy from which the electric current is developed. Courtesy a Duty. While admitting a tendency on the port of many women to accept all cour tesies from the opposite sex as a right some of the statements made under this head have been greatly exaggerated. It has beeu said that women habitually accept an offered seat in a public con veyance without thanks. That some women are thus discourteous, It Is true; but the cases aite exceptional. There is another aide to the story, as there Is to most stories. There are. ways of of fering a seat which hopelessly preclude thanks, and may expose the recipient of the attention. If attention it can be termed, to misconstruction. It la not uncommon to see a man, after silently enduring a struggle between his de sire to remain at hla'ease and that lu nate chivalry which la his heritage, rise hastily, and with a sort of injured air, take bis place on the platform. (Sometimes he la apeechl ess; at other he gruflly i-etnarks: "Seat, ladyr ana does not so much as look at her In pass ing. The weary shopper sinks Into the abandoned resting place with thanks In her heart, though she has no oppor tunity of offering them In Words, and as he doea not glance In Rt direction, she cannot even look her gratitude. Thore is another way of offering a scat which very properly precludes ac knowledgment A man retains his place until he reaches his destination; then, when he has no further use for It. ha offers It with an air of great civility to some lady standing near. Suck a civility deserves no thanks at alL HI Information, which Is really all he gives. Is useless. She knowa that he roust take his body with him when ha departs, and thus leave a vacancy. If more than one woman Is standing, he has no right to designate which one shall profit by bit absence. He Is not eutitled to thanks, and It la Jut that they should be withheld. Wonderful In N'aja. Only. American nomenclature la a never ending source of surprise and amuse ment to foreigners. The last time Sarah Bernhardt was over here she was driven nearly Into hysterics by a telegram from Kalamazoo. She Insist ed tliat uo place ever bad such a name and believed that the telegram was a Joke. Wheu the location of that pretty Michigan town was pointed out to her on the map and her attention was also called to Kankakee and Oshkosh be astonishment knew no bounds. Tennessee alone has enough freak towns to stock a geographical museum. Think of A. B. C. Dull. Leap Year, Limbs, Only, U Bet and Calf Killer. Ohio has a little town called AL This probably should bead the list, but greater freaks may be found farther down the alphabetical list Bumble Bee la in Arizona and Bird in Hand In Pennsylvania, Chromo is in Colora do, and New Jersey claims Comical Corners. Nebraska once bad a town known as Dead Horse. Its name was changed to Live Horse and finaliy was metamor phosed to Rose Dale. Heaven is in Texas, Credit In Idaho, Yuba Dam In California. Funny Louis Is a Louisiana town. Looneyvllle Is In New York. O. K. Is a blue grass ham let Nine Times Is In South Carolina. Not Is In Missouri and Overalls 1 Pennsylvania. These, however, are no more peculiar Moral, O. T.; Pay Up, Ga.; fev" north-v Ing daj . stage In vy which there tfca ana nimseir, wa. highwayman. The old gentleman asleep, but Shuter resolv with him. Accordingly, whenV., "'I wayman presented his pistol anox Ai inanded Shuter to deliver his mon instantly or he was a dead ma he re turned: "Money!" with an Idiotic shrug and a countenance iuexpressibly vacant. "Oh, lor, sir, they never trust me with any, for uncle here always pays for me, turnpikes and all, your honor V Upon which the highwayman gave him a few curses for his stupidity, com plimented the old gentleman with a smart slap on the face to awaken him, and robbed htm of every shilling h bad in bis pocket while Shuter, who did not lose a single farthing, with great satisfaction and merriment pur sued his journey, laughing heartily a his fellow traveler. Ancient Graves. . Two graves of the form called "hip" shaped ones, dating from the early iron age, have been discovered near Aal borg. In Jutland, similar graves hav ing only been once before encountered In Denmark. Tbey are built of stones in the form of a ship, the calcined ash es of the body being strewn at the bot tom. Further, nine skeletons from the lam lion uge have been found near Freder ickshavn, the size of the bones 'ndicat ing that they were persons of small stature. In addition, four smooth rings of bronze, having, no doubt, formed a necklet have been dug out of a peat bog iu the same locality. A runic stone of great Interest has been discovered at Klnueculia, in West Uothla, Swialen, having hitherto been covered with turf. The portion un covered represents some whips, the fig ures of two men, a great number of saucer-shaped cavities, wueele, rings, and so forth, engraven on the rock, bnt there appears to be a great many more tdgns below. The crown has taken pos session of It and a careful survey is betug made. No New Woman for Him. Mrs. Treetop I believe I'll let yo get me a bottle of this medicine. Uncle Treetop (looking over the tes timonials) Not much! Oue of these critters says after she took a bottle she felt like a new woman. ' One Advantaa-e of Economy. Mr. Thompson Our neighbor Borax was shot at by a burglar, and the bul let lodged in bis purse. ' Mrs. Thompson What of it? Mr. Thompson Nothing; only I was thinking bis wife must be very econom ical. A bullet would g 3 right through mine. Ttt-Blta. Held at Bar. "How are you managing to keep the wolf from the door. Hotly?" "With a shotgun. Three of my cred itors are tattooed with bird shot now." Detroit' Free Press. Hut Have. Professor You disturbed, my lectori) yesterday by loud talkuj' Student Impossible. Professor But I heard Stuaent Tben I must h VaUced im alasu FuegtMe la K BlteC Farm Notes. The Missouri Station recokimends tha following remedy fur the Sau Jose scale: Geuuiue whale-oil soap dissolved in water iu the proportion of two pounds of soap to oue gullou of water. Apply thoroughly by means of force-pump aud spray -nozzle. Give the trees a good drenching on all ides and repeal if it raius within a week thereafter. Apply in fall just after the leaves fall and before the scales becou.e bard, aud again iu spriug just before the trees begin to leaf out. " It is only wheu used in large amounts as a pickle that salt retards decay. Used in small amounts on either animal or veg etable matter, with enough water to dis solve it, salt wili always hasten decompo sition. For this reason it is an excellent plan to use it wherever it is desired to have manures set more quickly. A little sprinkled over manure heap with water enough tu v ash it down will set it to fer meutiug. t will do the same when a tough sod lias been plowed under which it is necessary to rot quickly. Swine increase so rapidly and reach maturity so quickly that the intelligent breeder can rectify mistakes and breed out faults in several generations of hogs, while the horse or cattle breeder is wait ing through years of patience to see the result of a single cross. The best show pig may come from the smallest sow in the herd; but is is not safe, as a rule, to select breeders from that class. We want the most size in the shortest time, aud we can safely forego a little of the fattening tendency provided we secure in the pros pective breeder rangincss aud a teudeucy to growth. . t is surprising how soon young pigs will begin lo eat with the sow or drink niil.t if placed where the pigs, but not the sow, cau have access to it. As sim.ii as pigs show a disposition to eat there should be a separate place provided where they can be fed by themselves, and run back and forth to the dam. This plan tides over the check most litters will re ceive when the litter needs more nourish ment than the dam can supply, and as a consequence some are half starved. The value of wool depends very much on its quality, its fineness, evenness, strength and length of staple, says Anier Sheep itreeder, and these characteris tics are very carefully looked into by the buyer. It goes without saying that as the ti vce is a iatt of the animal it is quite as deendant uHn the feeding as any other part of it is. That is to say, the i i i i r t I 1 wool Deiug uei i eu 1 oiii i ut: i unit uj general nutrition of the sheep, aud failure T .1. : . l. an la I uesc is t hese is immediately marked by an valent loss of quality of it. equi The kind of feed that fattens which in this country is chiefly cornouyht never to be given to sows Is-aring pigs. Oats or fine wheat, mill feed, will furnish the same nutrition, but these niust be given only moderately. The l.ncer bulk of food should be given in the form that will best promote digestion, which, in our ex perience is either beets or tuini. Tlie ffiruier the sows are very fond of it. but as ' ..v.-. .j.rysiinie sut-ar it is better to ving ine ueei lu - - ' horsi. man uitv manage the-v. is destroycdSv .- cult to turn two,'"' the end of the i is best adapted to rows are loug. But"S. . heavy plowing do nesi V as will two horses. No cheap it is the farmer's iV- ever before to inuke hofVv dish all it will, with as re of the much more expensiv It will not be long beforOv w will put in an appearance. It n easily destroyed when it first appear 1 if it becomes well rooted it lakes full. session of the ground. It must be fought early and often if it is to be exterminated It is not a problem to estimate how much a cow should be fed each day, pro vided the owner thoroughly uuderswt the conditions and knows the characteris tics of each animal; heue all rules given in tables for that purpose are useful only to a certain extent. It is a rule to feed according to the live weight of the animal but practical results prove that large ani mal mav consume less than smaller one. and that' cows differ in their preferences for food of various kinds. It is a safe rule to follow, however, in allowing food to consider the production of each animal and allow accordingly-. Nothing is gained by saving in the food if it can be convert ed into milk and butter. When a. cow is doing om1 work at the pail she should have an abundance of all that she will eat. Plant string beans every month until the season is over, as they grow rapidly and are not difficult to secure. INieS may also be had in succession until well into tha suniino- if frequent plantings are made, and the work of so doing takes but little time. From Time lmiiieM"r.. Perhaps one of the most singular uses to which glass has beeu put is oue which has lusted almost without inter ruption from the first making to the present day. The Phoenicians, who were the great commercial people of thut age, scoured the known and much of the unknown world, in their trading ressels. The African coast was regu larly visited, and for the use of the Ig norant natives glass beads were made. Some of the same beads then used, and known to us as "aggry"' beads, have ben found among the Asliantees and other natives of the Gold Coast of Afri ca. Similar beads for the same use are now made in Venice, and It is said that there are exported from that city every year thousands of dollars' worth of them of various sorts. Jnat Between Frlenda. Miss Older Men must be growing more polite. I get seats in street cars much oftener than I did a few years ago. . . .Miss Cutting Well, It's a mighty menu iiinu Unit will let an old lady stjiuil New York Journal If we would be happy, we should rpen our ears when among the good and shut them when among the bad. Better the sweet kinship of ain than selfish enjoyment; better the sorrow bora from sympathy than the ease nf indiffer nee. The man who spends all his evenings at home never has to spera any of his time in jail. , REV. DR. TALMAGE Tha Balnea Dtvtaa'e Improvidence autl Alcoholism ArralrneA Moat Overpowering- Euriuy of the Working People Is Strong Orliik A Jlea for Earnest C'bristlan Frntleuce. Text: "He that earneth wagas earneth Wages to put into a bag with holes." Hag gal i, 6. In Persia, under the reign of Darius Hystaspes, the people did not prosper. They made money, but did not keep It. They were likn people who have a sack in which they put money, not knowing that the sack is torn or eaten of moths, or in some way made incapable of holding valu ables. As fast as the coin was put in one end of the sack it dropped out of the oth er. It made no difference bow much wages they got, for they lost them. "He that earneth wages earneth wages to put it into a bag with holes." What has become of the billions and billions of dollars in this country paid to the working classes? Some of these mon eys have goue for house reut, or the purchase of homesteads, or wardrobe, or family expenses, or the necessities of life, or to provide comforts in old age. What has become of other billions? Wasted in foolish outlay. Wasted at tha gaming ta ble. Wasted iu intoxicants. Put into a bag with 100 holes. Gather up the money that the working classes have spent for driuk during the last thirty years, aud I will build for every workiugman a bouse and lay out for him a garden, and clothe his sous in broadcloth and his daughters In silks, and place at bis front door a prancing span of sorrels or bays, and secure him a policy of life insur ance, so that the present home may be well maintained after he is dead. The most per sistent, most overpowering enemy of the working classes is intoxicating liquor. It Is the anarchist of the centuri.-s and has boycotted and is now boycotting the body and mind and soul of American labor. It Is to it a worse foe than monopoly and worse than associated capital. It annually swindles industry out of a large percentage of earnings. It holds out Us blastiugs solicitations to the mechanic or operative on his way to work, and at the noon spell, and on his way home at even tide; on Saturday, when the wages are paid, it snatches a large part of the money that might come into the family and sacrifices it among the saloou keepers. Stand the sa loons of this country side by side, aud it is carefully estimated that they would reach from New York to Chicago. "Forward, march," says the drink power, "aud take possession of the American Nation." The drink business is pouring its vitriolic and damuable litpiids down the throats of hundreds of tliousauds of laborers, and while the ordinary strikes are ruinous both to employers and employees, I proclaim a strike universal against strong drink, Which, if kept up, will be the relief of the working classes and the salvation of the Nation. 1 will undertake to say that there is not a healthy laborer iu the United States who within the next ten yean, if he will re fuse all intoxicating beverages aud be sav- may not ueeome a capitalist on a small Our country in a year speuds il,- iior iinuit. u: course tua-orK great deal of this atisti.pw VJ S - their own fault. They might ueeu well off, but they smoked or chewed up their earnings, or they lived be yond their means, while others ou the same Wages aud ou the same salaries went on to competency. I kuow a man who is all the time complaiuiug of his poverty and crying out against rich men while he himself keeps two dogs and chews and smokes and is full to the ubin with whisky and beer. Wilkins Micawber said to David Copperfleld: "Cop perfleid, my boy, 1 income, expenses, 20s. id.; result, misery. But, Copper field, my boy, 1 Income; expenses, IDs. 6d.; result, happiness." But, O workingman, take your morning dram, and your noon drain, and your (evening dram, and spend every thing you have over for tobacco aud excur sions, and you insure poverty for yourself and your children foreverl i If by some generous fiat of thJ capi talists of this country or by a new law of the Government of the United ritates twenty-tive per cent, or fifty per cent, or 100 per cent, were added to the wa4es of the working classes of America, it vVould be no advantage to hundreds of thousands of them unless they stopped strong di ink. Aye, until they quit that evil habit the raore money the more ruin, the more wages the more holes in the bag. My plea is to those working people who are in a discipleship to the whisky bottle, the beer jug and the wine flask. And what I say to them will not be more appropriate to the working classes tuan4o the business classes and the literary classes and the pro fessional classes and all classes, and :aot with the people of one age more than of all ages. Take one good square look at tbe suffering of the man whom strong drink has enthralled and remember that toward that goal multitudes are running. Tle disciple of alcoholism suffers the loss Of self respect. Just as soon as a mail wakes up and finds that he is the caj ' tive of strong drink, he feels demeaned1. I do not care how recklessly be acts. H. may say, "1 don't care;" he does care; He cannot look a pure man In the eye un less it is with positive force of resolution. Three-fourths of his nature is destroyed; his self-respect is gone; he says things he would not otherwise say; he does things he would not otherwise do. When a man is nine-tenths gone with strong drink, the first thing he wants to do is to persuade yon that he can stop any time he wants to. He cannot. The Philistines have bound him hand Rnd foot, and shorn his locks.and put out his eyes, and are making him grind in the mill of a great horror. He cannot stop. I will prove it. He kuows that his course is bringing ruin upon himself. He loves himself. It he could stop, he would. He knows his course Is brino-ino ruin uoon his family. He loves them. He would stop If he could. He cannot, remaps ne could three months or a year ago; not now. Just ask him to stop for a month. Be caanot he knows he cannot, so he does not try. God only knows what the drunkard suffers. Fain flies on every nerve, and travels every mnsole. and gnaws every bone, and burns with every flame, anil stings with every poison, and pulls at him With every torture. What reptiles crawl over his sleeping limbs. What fiends stand by his midnight pillow. What groans tear his ear. What horrors shiver through his soul. Talr of the rack, talk of the inquisi tion, talk of the funeral pyre, talk of the crushing Juggernaut he feels them all at once. Have you ever been in the ward of the hospital where these inebriates are dy ing, the stench of their wounds driving back the attendants, their voices sounding through the night? The keener comes up aud says: "Hush, now he still. Stop mak ing all this noise." But it is effectual ouly for a moment, for as soon as the keeper is gone they begin again: "U Uodl O God! Help! Help! Drink! Give me drink! Help! Take them off me! Take tuem off me! O O God!" And then they shriek, and they rave, and they pluck out their hair by handfuls and bite their nails into the quick, and then they groan, and they shriek, and they blaspheme, and they ask the ktepers to kill them "Stab me! Smother met Strangle mel Take the devils off me!" Oh, it is no fancy sketch. That thing is going on now all up and down the land, and I tell you further that this is going to be tha death that some of you will-die. I know it. I see It coming. Again the Inebriate suffers through the loss of home. 1 do not care how much he loves his wife and children, if this passion for strong drink has mastered him be will -do the most outrageous things, and if he could not get drink in any other way he would sell his family into eternal bondage. How many homes have beeu broken up in that way no one but God knows. Oh, is there anything that will so destroy a man for this life aud damn him for the life that is to come? lio not tell me that a man can be happy when he knows that he is break ing his wife's heart and clothing his chil dren with rags. Why. th.re are on the roads and streets of this bind to-day little children, barefooted, unwashed and un kempt, waut ou every pnteb of their faded dress and on every wrinkle of their pre maturely old countenances, who would have been iu churehes to-day and as well clad as you are but for the fact that rum destroyed their parents and drove them into the grave, tin, rum, thou foe of God, thou despoiler of homes, thou recruiting officer of the pit, I hate thee. But my subject takes a deeper tone, and that is that the unfortunate of whom I speak suffers from the loss of the soul. The liible intimates that in the future world, if we are unforgiveu here, our bad passions and appetites, unrestrained, will go along with us and make our torment there. Ho that, I suppose, when an inebriate wakes up ill that world he will feel an Inllnite thir-t consuming him. Now, down in' this world, although he mav have been very poor, he could beg or he could steal five cents with which to get that which would slake his thirst for a little while, but in (eternity where is the rum to come from? Oh, the deep, exhaiistintfj.exasperating, everlasting thirst of tne druiiKSfif-ln. Why, if a llend came up to earth for infernal work iu a grogshop and tthou hack taking ou its wlug just one ilr that for which the Inebriate iu the world longs, what, excitement won inake there! Put that one drop froi the Hend's wing ou the tip of the tougi. the destroyed inebriate, let tli li. brightness just tou.-h it, let the .Jr... : very small, if it only have iu it the si' of alcoholic drink; let that drop just the lost Inebriate in the hot world, i would spriug to his feet ami erv: ' ruin, aha! That is rum!" And i wake up the echoes of the damned: me rum! Give ine rum! Give, n In the future world I do not heliev will be the ab e of God that v the drunkar will be the ijf "row. I do not of light. I C the absenee - ire that it a i, I tie abeaaaaw- '' , Tano. e on the ead march of ihe very glance ould make you shudder. ..vr of the liouor would make vou mink of the blood of the soul, and the foam on the top of the cup would remind you of tne Irotn on tne maniacs lip, aud you would kneel down aud pray God that, rather than your children should become captives of this evil habit, you would like to carry them out some bright spring duy to the cemetery aud put them away to the last sleep, until at the call of the south wind the flowers would come up all over the grave sweet prophecies of the resur rection. God has a balm for sueh a 7ouu I, but what flower of comfort ever grew ou a drunkard's sepulcher? MARK TWAIN AND THE FRIENDLY COMPOSITOR. From the Chicago Times Herald. It is a Denver newspaper tradition that the funniest bit of jouruaistic work ever done by Mark Twain was sfra-slcd by a too friendly proofreader. Mark was given an assignment lo write up the opening of a saloon quite a noteworthy event in those, days in the Colorado town. He thought it nould be funny to make his account of the festivities bear silent witness to the potency of the free re fiei'liinents disK-used. The article began" soberly enough, bnt soon the diction be came misty, then the i.pellinc prew con fused, and timillv the whole thing degenerated into a maudlin, incoherent o eulogy of the saloon keejier. It was funny. Mark read it over and laughed until he cried. But the next morning when he eagerly scanned the paper he could not tiinl his work. In an obscure corner he saw a two line item stating that "the Alcazar saloon was opened with appropriate festivities last night." That was ail. He rushed down to the office and in quired about bis article. The managing editor knew nothing about it. Th city editor couldn't tell what had become of it. The foreman said he hadn't een it. As Mark was snorting about "the out rage," and was running about the office trying to get track of the niisiug"copy " a proofreader slyly nudged him and said, confidentially: "Vou owe me a cigar." . "How is that?" inquired the humorist. "I've earned it," was the reply. "I ) saved your job for you last ni'-'ht. May be vou don't know how the old man here ucels about such things, but he won t have it if he finds it out. He fired three men since I've been here just that way." "Just what way?" ; "Why, just as you ou were last night, you know. Your stuff wouldn't do at all. It vas simply awful. I knew if the old nian saw it you were gone, so I fixed it up myself." lonie say that the ate of chivalry is 9st The ace of chivalry is never past so og as there is a wrong left unredressed oniearth, or a man or a woman left to say, "II will redress that wrong, or spend my life in the at mpt." If people will only spend their time in doit'J their duty in this world. Heaven, ell. and hereafter will take care ot selves udgerv Is as necessarv to call out the ures of the mind a harrowing and ing those of tt e earth. I and treul plana r i 6 i - 1 '.J".Wa, . t. .. ---,- a K4L:" ataMhlr'''ta--' iiii Si saa'"Maaamaiiia-"'"a?l'