A BABY IN THE BATTLE. ,* v y AN INCIDENT IN THE CAREER OF HEROIC LORD CHARLES HAY. Into the of Heath lie Strode Alone, and, Railing (he Helpless Child in Ills Arms, Carried It I'p to the Enemy's Front mid Delivered It to the Mother. "Hello! What's 'Young Salamander' up to now?'' I 't "Mad, I fancy, or else he wants to get V killed." "And so he will, whether he wants it or not, if he goes running in among the bullets like that!" In truth "Young Salamander" (other wise I-ord Charles Ilay of the First Life Guards) did seem to he running a fearful risk without any reason whatever. One of the hardest battles ever fought be tween the French and English in Bel gium was at its hottest. The French <•; ,/> army was much the stronger of the two, and although the English held their .. ground as stubbornly as bulldogs it seemed very doubtful which way the fight would go. Just then, in the thick of the uproar and confusion, the rolling smoke and the (lying shot, young Hay (whose bravery under fire had long since earned him the nickname of "Salaman der" from his adoring soldiers) was seen to step forth from the English line and advance straight toward the enemy. A DESPERATE VENTURE. A more desperate venture could hardly "* he imagined, for so thickly were the bul lets (lying between the two opposing lines that the littl" jets of dust which they knocked up from the dry eartli formed a cloud almost as dense as the smoke itself. Nothing niorlal surely could live in such a storm of shot; and what could he pussibly be going to do there? "Come line .. inv lord; come back, for heaven's sak •!" shouted a dozen deep voices at on". "The >>:uig fool's mad—stark mad!" roared the English colonel, recovering *" from his stupor of amazement. "Come back this minute, you young idiot! l)o you want to ho killed?" But Lord Charles still went forward without a moment's pause, us if he had not heard them Then the English ceased firing in sheer astonishment; hut just tit that moment the flash and crackle of a fresh gollcv burst forth like a storm along the glittering line of French bayo nets, and till was hidden in smoke, When h the smoke cleared again every one expect \, ed to see the brave lad lying dead. But ho—Hay was still on his feet. His cap had been struck off, and some said that they cottld see blood on his face, but he was still marching onward as steadily as ever. And now tlie French grenadiers, begin ning to descry him through the rolling smoke, stopped filing in their turn, ap posing that this single man who was coming toward them so boldly from the English line must be tlio beart r of some message from flie British general, and vilie attention of the two contending hosts "was bent upon the solitary figure be tween them. Just then asudden gust of wind whirled aside for a moment the cloud of smoke and dust, and every one saw for the first time what Lord Charles Hay was about. A little to tlia left of the English line of battle stead a cluster of miserable hovels, and the Flemish peasants who in habited them, instead of running away when the battle begun, as one might A have expected, bad stayed where they were, seeing that the light seemed to be rolling away from them, and not liking the idea of abandoning their bins, which, poor and wre tela I as they were, were the only home • • t they had. But they soon found that v were mistaken, for a sudden chaw in the position of the two armies fir - lit these unlucky cot tages right in; • i . • line of fire, and the terrified pea.sr '-. finding the cannon balls falling thickly on every sido of them, took to i wir heels at once, drag / ging with them !h -ir children and what • few goods they < mid manage to carry. In the hurry ol tc.is panic flight a tiny girl, hardly old enough to walk alone, had fallen or fir i left behind, and was now lying 011 the ground midway be tween the French and English lines, cry ing bil rl< while her mother could ho see' 1 .1 . dance shrieking wildly and tossi• t arm- in the air and strug gling to fir. k I. • >e from her husband, who v. . . .!• fin; iier firmly, for, count ing Ins c'.i. iah . iy lost, 1 , had no wish to lose his wilt ' ■ well. Al'ri .'.i o: I) BY THK ENEMY. Coolly >if iin paradetli ■ brave young guard sin i : • onward to the spot where the ' • ■ child lay, his fair hair and hi" In , '••••■• showiii." through the biilovvy in >!; like tho-o of an angel in eoui 'old Italian painting. lie raised it tenderly in Id arms, and some who saw it said alu rw.ird that the poor little trembler c used crying at once, as if soothed and comforted bv his gentle voice a: d kindly smile. Then, keeping his own body as much as possible be tween the chilli and the leveh d muskets of the French, he went straight on, as '♦ calmly a.- < i, toward tho dark mass of his enemies. t 'lJon't bit.-, comradi don't fire!" shouted a tall stern looking French soldi, r, who- grim face was black with dust uhd unpowder. "If lie were twenty times an Englishman, lie's as good ana sail i from heaven, for all that!" Attlia' moment a mighty shout, which was heard iu n ..i.ovo the roar of cannon and m i-lo i r v from tho other sid.. of tho battle i. Ihi i-t from the English ranks as tin • m. < their, young hero hearing the child ualiarined across thot deadly space, and . careely liad the cheer died away when it was echoed by an answer ing cheer from the French, which rolled along the vast plain like a peel of dis tant thunder. Meanwhile tho young officer, pulsing close to the cruel points of the French bayonets as coolly as if they had been only bulrushes, with the tiny face nestling trustingly against his shoulder, went straight up to the dis tracted mother and placed the child in her arms. Then lie kissed the tiny thin little a cheek tenderly, and was just turning away to go back to his own men when a stately old officer with a long gray mus tache, whose broad breast was covered with crosses and decorations, stepped forth from the French line and held out his hand. "Monsieur," said he, bowing cour teously, "permit mo to have the honor of shaking hands with the bravest man 1 have ever met." An hour later Lord Charles Ilay was lying face downward upon the earth, sorely wounded bj a chance bullet which had hit him just as the enemy were giv ing way and beginning to retreat. But though his wound wasa severe and pain ful one, and though he lived to become one of the richest and most popular men in all England, lie always spoke of that day as the happiest of his whole life.— Montreal Star. I.hiroln'H li inkers. President Lincoln's kind (heart always responded to a child's advances. Ho in dulged his own children, saying, "It is my pleasure that my children are free and happy, and unrestrained by parental tyranny. Love is the chain whereby to bind a child to its parents." Before his election in 1800 a little girl of 11 years, seing his lithograph portrait, thought his appearance would he im proved should he wear whiskers. She uttered her childish thought in a letter to Mr. Lincoln, and in a few days re ceived a friendly answer, in which lie asked: "As to the whiskers, as I have never worn any, <lo you not think that people would call it a piece of silly affectation were I to begin wearing them now?" During his journey to Washington, af ter his election to the presidency, the train stopped at AVestfield, Chautauqua county, at which place the little girl re sided. "I have ucorrespondent in Ibis place," said Mr. Lincoln, "a little girl whoso name is Grace Bedell, and I would liko to see Iter." Shews brought to the station. He stepped fri .a the cars, extended his hand and >.iid: "You see I have let those whiskers grow for you, Grace." Then kissing her, he hade her good-bv. When lie stood up at the Capitol to de liver his inaugural address, friends were surprised to sec that the president was raising a crop of whiskers. Vexed at his spoiling a face which expressed power and pathos by wearing a coarse, stiff, ungraceful hoard of the blacking brush variety, they made inquiries, and learned that lie had ceased to shave to gratify a very young lady.—Youth's Companion. A Hint for Young Girls. When your sweetheart comes to see you, don't be foolish enough to confine your sweetness to him alone. Have him in where all of the rest of the household are. Lot the talk and the chatter and the music and the playing of games be in the home circle. Then the few min utes that lie gets with you by yourself will seem all the more delightful,and lie will think you the most loving little creature in the world. Men are much more observant than they are credited with being, and the man worth having as a husband is the one who will appre ciate your love for those of your own people an i will see that as you make a small part in one home, you are becom ing adapted for the central figure in an other. Nov. r : ay thai you don't expect a man to marry your whole family. It's vul gar. You do. That is, if you are a good daughter and a loving sister. You want him to lie one with you in sympathy and in affection, and as you take his name, so yon assume responsibilities as far as his people arc concerned. You two are the mo.-1 to each --mr love for each should Is; tli< fiut you can not isolate your- B i in-is! that you have no duties on: \ a own home. If you do this you ■ ■•■ in i. .rr< and selfish, and you a: .mi:.•> ifi. a girl for that. So remember ui a lie comes, this bridegroom of ivoiiia, ifi hi-heart is bound the tighter t \ oil if 1 ■ ■ ribbon used to hold it l:a \ rteli upon it in golden letters, "Lo\c mi consideration for those at home.' 1/ li. Homo Jour nal. Truth Not Alaay* "Dear friend!" cried I !.n willow, as she bent c v insini. uid I on ii -r beautiful oiiu v. u'cted on (ii-. gin.—iy surfa'v. 'ln ■ ' nder sad luiw true you arc! Lan i the fi. .firs around me have not a .single ii.o'in that is rot, mirror <1 on your faithful -bosom." Vnd, a- the breeze played gently aim ng her lira aches, they bent to the it.re am and l,i-..d the placid \\ at. i . Suminvr snl, and wink-: ; suaimcr and winter; suVutncr and w inter; and tho willow grew old. Its leaves wfire few, its branches withered, the flower s around faded. "How changed you are!" she cried peevishly to llin stream. "Origp I never looked on you but to rejoice, for all you showed mh was pleasant and full of praise. Now, when I try to bend to catch a glimpse, I turn away sad and sorrowful; for what do you bring before mo? Not verdure, not symmetry, not grace; but bareness, deformity and de cay. You are greatly changed." "Foolish willow!" answered the stream, "1 am too true.—that is my fault. There is a change, but it is not in me; but you are not the only one that looks coldly on the truth when it offends tho liking." V Oiimition hi Pliynlofftl Culture. Sweet Little Daughter—Papa, isn't niaiuuiu dreadfully strong? Papa—No, dear. She's small, you know. It's your papa that is the strong one of the family. S. L. D.—But, then, I heard mamma telling Mrs. Tell'ytall last evening that she could just wind you around her fin ger.—Pittsburg Bulletin. Wlmt a Itucket Shop In. Tom—Say, Jack, what's a bucket shop? Jack—l guess it's where the brokers get their buckets to water the stock with.—Lippincott's. THE PAY OF CLERGYMEN. A CLAIM THAT THEIR SALARIES ARfr COMPARATIVELY SMALL. Son! lutfrcstinj; Statistics Containing tin* Sums Itecelvwl by Sevonil Noted Men. Some Few Ministers Get I.urge Salaries, but They Are (Exceptions. No man who adopts a ministerial ca reer can be justly charged with merce nary motives, for in no other profession is the monetary reward so small. There are, to be sure, a few instances of preach ers who are paid large salaries for their services, but the rank and file of the clergy receive hardly enough to main tain themselves respectably. The aver age salary paid to ministers in Protestant churches is less than SI,OOO per annum. Even in the large metropolitan parishes, where men of marked ability officiate, the income awarded them is altogether incommensurate with their talents Prominent lawyers like Joseph 11 Choute, Robert U. Ingersoll and Benja min F. Butler make all the way f*-om $75,000 to $125,000 each year. Among physicians, Dr. Loomis earns from $50,- 000 to SOO,OOO, Dr. Polk from $40,000 to $50,000, Dr. Sayre about $50,000, and a dozen more might be named who earn over $25,000 annually. Compared to the salaries paid the managers of large finan cial institutions, tlio reward of tlio great est preachers in the land seems paltry. The president of the Mutual Life Insur ance company receives $50,000; Mr. De pew, as president of the New York Cen tral railroad, gets $" hand there are a considerable nun wealthy corpo rations ' it pay chief officials from $. 10 to $ ) for a year's services. liiglic ry paid a cler gyman in i >v York 1,000, and Dr. John Hull is tlio forti dividual. SOME WEALTH Pt NTS." There are perhaps half dozen other preachers who get l'r m $1 ,000 to $15,- 000, hut il should he r< diered that they repr ml the weal' ■(. parishes in the city. it the -time its much respou- that devolving upon the heads i moneyed institutions. This win pparent when we regard the church sunder their direction from a purely financial standpoint. Trinity Church corporation owns millions upon millions in real estate. Its annual in come is nearly SBOO,OOO. The bulk of this vast sum is paid out in church work eacit year, and Dr. Morgan Dix, the rector, presides over its distribution. Dr. Hall's church has a plant—if this term may he allowed—valued at $2,000,- 000. The income from pew rents and contributions amounts to nearly $050,000 per annum. Most of this is spent in missionary work. In 188!) the congrega tional expenses, including the pastor's salary, the music, and all incidental items, fooled up $03,081. The balance ' .€ over SOOO,OOO was applied to domestic nd foreign missions, the relief fund of the Pre: iivterian church, and to miscel laneous charities. In view of this re inarkalile showing it cannot lie doubted that Dr. Hall earns his salary. Grace church has an endowment of $250,000. lis property is worth close to $2,000,000, and its annual income from pew rents and contributions averages SIOO,OOO. The property of Ascension church, Fifth avenue and Tenth street, represents an investment of $850,000. Its revenue is about $50,000 each year. St. Thomas' church and property is val ued at $750,000. Its pews alone rent for $50,000 each year, mi l the contributions amount to from SOO,OOO to SIO,OOO more. St. George's church is supported entirely by voluntary contributions. All the pews are free. Dr. itaiusford, the rec tor, gets a nominal salary of SIO,OOO per annum. He is pi. d of private means, however, at ' .-turns his salary to the treasury of : ui h. The prop erty is valued a I > id and the yearly revenue i-i In ; SHbOOO and $50,000. A large p: portion of this sum is spent in iri-a cli.iri; ion. Calvary church anil , i ij rty is worth at least $300,000. Its contribute' arc very large, averaging frot i : ■> SBO,OOO. Tho total income of tin parish in not far short of $1)0,pot) a year, niul fully one third of it goes to general charities. Mi:ST I.IVE EXPENSIVE!.V. The Madison Square Presbyterian church, where Dr. Charles 11. Park hurst preside i i income of between $50,000 aiul rMO.OOO. Its plant is prob ably we a ctdO.OOO. Dr. I'.i xtoii' . West Presbyterian church has an incomeof overbed,ooo. The value of its plant lias not been estimated. Ten large church organizations have been instanced here, representing a com bined property worth millions upon mil lion.--, from which a total yearly income is do; iv d from pew rents and contribu tions of about §1,000,000. This vast sum is, Tor the most part, left to be disposed of by ten men. At the least, their will is a potent factor in its distribution. It is essential, therefore, that they should each combine first class business qualifications with learning and elo quence; yet the average Salary they receive per annum is only a trifle over SII,OOO. When it; is considered that they must keep up a style of living in accord ance with the dignity of the pulpits they occupy, besides answering substantially innumerable private calls on their char ity, it is not to he supposed that they can lay by very much money against the time when old age will deprive them of their usefulness. Nothing has been said so far as to tho personal value of a clergyman to tho parish under his charge. Experience has proved that the income of a pastor ate depends mainly upon the qualities displayed by tho pastor; so that in near ly every instance he may be said to earn personally the revenue of his church.— John P. Hitter in Frank Leslie's News paper. luMiring Against llurglury. For two years past there has been an insurance company against burglaries, flourishing in London. According to the regolur rates you can insure the contents of your residence, or tho damage to it through burglary, or any special article you desire.—London Letter. WHAT IT COST HER TO DRESS. A Thousand Dollars a Tear Nona hnl 5250 Woulil Do After tlio Wedding. The young man had been sitting in deep thought for several minutes look ing at his liest girl and judging as well as he could by the dim light the cost of her apparel. They had been engaged for several months, and, having passed that period of ecstatic bliss which ob scures all thoughts of worldly affairs, they were able, at odd moments, to speculate about the future. The parlot was elaborately furnished, and every thing about tlio dear girl, from the tips of her dainty patent leather shoes to the gold pin in her hair, was suggestive of weal tli. The night was clear and cold, and this was one reason why the young uuin had the power to look at things in a cold, worldly fashion. The night on which he had flopped on one knee and laid his heart at the feet of the fair creature had been wild and stormy. She had accepted him in a particularly wild buret of rain and wind, and thereafter on every stormy night visions of bliss swept over him and made his rather poor prospects glitter with unnatural brilliancy. Onthisniglit, however, he saw things in their true light, and after the heavy tread of his dear girl's mother had given way to a low rumbling snore, ho suddenly cried: "llow much did that dress cost?" lie touched the garment lightly, and looked lwwwohingly up in the girl's face. "The material cost sls. making it cost $18." "Phew! Can you make dresses?" "The idea! Of course not." "How many dros-<>- do you get in a year?" "Well," she said, contemplatively, "when Igo away in the country I usu ally take six new one with me. They cost on an average $45 each. Then I give four receptions a year, arid, of course, a new dress is necessary each time. The four cost about $240. Then I suppose I have about live other dresses, which come cheap; perhaps about S4O for each i one." * The young i ;ei buried his face in his hands l'or - minute, and then said: "Hats and shoes pretty expensive?" "Oh, my; no," replied tlie girl,.with a little cry of scorn. "I suppose my hats and shoes do not cost more than S3OO a year." "Now, look here,.Jess," said the young man desperately, "what I am trying to get at is how much it costs to dress you. You do a little figuring and let me see what the result is." Jess bent her dear little head over an ivory tablet and scribbled away indus triously and bit her pencil thoughtfully for five minutes. Then she submitted this table: Dresses.. $7lO Wraps JSO Hats laij Linen, etc 100 Shoes 75 Gloves Sol Total SI,OBO The young man read these items over and over again. "Great Scott, Jess," he said, "that's pretty steep, isn't it?" "Oh, I don't know," she replied. "That is only a small part of what I cost, for you have no idea what an ox pensive girl I am. You know I usually spend it month every summer at some watering place, and then 1 get rid of an awful lot of money in helping ihechurch along, in car fares, bonbons and such things." "What does it cost to run this house, any way?" asked the young man, sav agely, for ho felt that the idol of his heart was slipping away. . "I don't know exactly," replied Jess, "but, maybe, $3,000 a year will do it nicelv." "Humph! Lot rnedoalittleilguring." T?io young man's figuring was like this: Probable east of furniture, $1,000; juarly instill Inn nits S3OO Rent of fiat (In Brooklyn > .* 400 Wages of servant • 180 Wife's clothing (.her estiu. 1,080 My ciot'.ilng (my estimate) 100 Necessary recreation, vacations, and charity 200 Food 150 Total $2,410 Jiy salary .. 8,400 Deficit $lO Jess bent Iter bead over this table and studied it intently. "Are you estimating what it will cost us to keep hou-V:" alio asked. "Yes," was tho dreary reply. "I think 1 can improve on that list," shesaid. "Now, cut off from my estimate of clothing SBSO and add $l5O to your estimate of your clothing. Deduct SIOO from the cost of recreation and so forth, and another SIOO off the rent. Reduce the servant's wages S3O. 1 am suro our furniture won't cost more than §7OO, but you can let tho yearly install ments stand. 1 think you had better add $33 to thb cost of food. Now, how much difference does that make?" "Eight hundred and eighty-live Uol lars." "And the $lO deficit you make by yor.i figuring reduces this to $875. 1 can livo on this if you can." And he said he'd try it if she would. — Now York Sun. !.incol,i':i Funeral Car. While sitting in our office this morning a train passes tho town. It is running wild and is composed of an engine and one passenger car. This car is old in fashion and appearance. It lias not seen paint for years, though it still bears tho jaded lines of former elegance and re finement. Now it -is only a construction car, used to convey men to wrecks and. accidents, and holds one of the humblest positions in the car service of the Union Pacific system. But that old weather-beaten car has a history and it has been honored by a grief stricken people as no other car in the Union has, for under its faded old top lay the remains of tho martyred president, Abe Lincoln, when they wero borne in state from Washington to Springfield. Through that car poured grief stricken people at every stop on the journey—sorrowing, weeping women, men \i hose pulse beat meant sorrow and resentment, children who are now tho mainspring of this republic,—Fort Lup< ton (Colo.) Cyclone.' ! WOMEN IN THE OILMARKET SOMETHING ABOUT THEIR SPECU LATIONS ON 'CHANGE. Thii Mrmige Story of One Wowhd'k Kxpe rtonce—Devoting Her Lift to tlie Recov ery of ller llunban(l't( Money, IVhich She I.oM—An fill Company of Women. There have been some pretty big fe male plungers in the oil market at one time and another. There are still wo men speculators in most of the oil ex changes in the region, hut there are few. if any, of the "high rollers" left. Oil! City has had more women speculators, in petroleum than any other town, al though at one time Bradford had a fnit quota. The Globe-Democrat correspond ent learned today that there are but three women who still visit the Oil Ex change daily and make a regular busi ness of toying with the oily tiger. These ladies have been familiar figures about the cxchaugc for several years, and are all that are left out of 6overnl women speculators. These ladies do not come ou the. floor of the exchange, and are not, in fact, members, but are in their seats in the ladies' gallery as soon as the exchange opens, and remain tolerably regularly until the close at I! o'clock in the after noon. They deal, of course, entirely through brokers, a nod being a sufficient order for a broker to buy or sell 1,000, 5,001) or 10,000 barrels of oil, as the case may be. It is not often that they go be yond a deal of 1,000 barrels, as. the la dies who are left in the exchange, to put it in the phraseology of a broker, are "flying light." With a few exceptions, the ladies who have entered the jungles of the oily tiger have got the worst of it. The three who still cling to the exchange are content to deal in 1,000 barrel lots, and it is not always they can do this. A number of ladies prominent in the charitable organizations and in society here have been successful speculators in oil, and two or three of them have been interested in some largo deals. They were not regular habitues of tlio ex change, and were frequent visitors to the gallery, which is open to the public. All their deals in the market have been made through brokers. When there was more activity in the market than there is at present it was a universal theme of fireside gossip. Everybody speculated in oil, from the minister down to the porter in tlio hotel, and it is no wonder the ladies fell under tlio fascinating spell of tlio "bull ring." as the pen like place where the deals are made on Vliahgo is called. During exciting times in the market it has been discussed quite as much in the drawing room as in the counting room. In the system of speculating in oil the persons of small capital and no capital at all have not. been overlooked, ami the servant girl is given an opportunity to • take a flyer in oil" if she is so inclined. During one big whirl in the market, fol lowing the collapse of the Cherry Grove field, it was well known that a large number of servant girls lost their little handle along with the big fellows. This was the most disastrous panic the oil country ever knew, and it marked to a great extent the end of speculating by women. So many of tlieui lost all their money that only a limited number of them have had the courage to venture back into the speculative whirlpool. The history of one woman's specula tions in the Oil City exchange is curious. JJer husband had been in business in the oil country for several years and had ac cumulated considerable property, in all worth about $16,000. He concluded to go west, and went to several of the west ern cities to look around for ait invest ment. lie had ctTected a sale of his property before leaving Oil City, and his wife remained behind to settle up some details, collect payments not yet duo and join him in the west, where they were to make their future home. The woman collected the money, an I, doubt less, wishing to carry a pleasant surprise to her husband, she put the motley into the oil market to "make a turn." The turn went the wrong way and lost. In the hope of getting it back she made other litvi ;tments, with the usual result. It was not long before she bad ! t every dollar < f the money that she was to carry to her husband. It was. orne time before she.ventured to break the t.-wsof her folly to her husband, and this alio did only after he bad writ tea i.-p dly fot her to come on with the money. At last she .told him tho story of her 1 in the oil market, where she had : in the hope of doubling their money, Yho hus band had taken enough mom . with him to buy a small farm, and with this lie was contented to begin the lusinc jof money gotlin over again, hut his wife refused u ■ hare his lot until si; > had re stored to him the money she had lost. She declined to go west, hut remained in Oil City in the hope of recovering her lost fortune. This was ten years ago. and the woman is still a daily attendant in the gallery of the Oil Exchange. She has had varying luck, but has never got enough money ahead to make good tho loss to her hus band, or anything like it. The Globe- Democrat correspondent was told t hat in this time she has several times been re duced to the extremity of doing the work of a servant. When she would get enough money together to buy a "put"' or a "call" she would again try her luck in the market. She always dresses in solemn black, and evidently has but one purpose in life, namely, to recover the money she foolishly risked in oil and re store it to her husband. There is not much likelihood that she will ever succeed. Her husband contin ues to urge her to abandon her self im posed task and .join him on his farm in the west, hut she resolutely refuses to do so. lie has made two or three trips to Oil City to prevail upon her to give up the market, but she cannot be shaken from her purpose. She says she is in it for the money she lost or for her life. She lives in the most frugal manner, oven when making some money, but the? chances are remote of her ever recover ing her losses. Her dealings recently have been in a very small way, and she barely makes enough to support herself. —Oil City (Pa.) Cor. St. Louis Globe- Democrat. Ksjpt'i Former Khedive. ' It reads like a passage from comic opera when we find that in the beginning of 1860 "business was practically sus pended in nearly all the government offices in order that those of their staffs who knew French might be employed iu translating the 'CEiI Grove,' the 'Belle Helene,' the 'Mariee do Mardi-Gras' and other chefs d'oeuvres of Offenbach into Arabic for the use of the harem ladies." In May the khedive gave a grand hall to | celebrate his accession. One of the items of expenditure on this occasion was the throwing of a temporary bridge over the Nile, at a cost of £B,OOO. And then in November came tho crowning splendors of theopenjng of the canal. The empress of France, (he em peror of Austria and the crown prince of Prussia were tho most notable of tho guests; but there was a multitude— amounting, it is said, to thousands—of less distinguished persons, who were en tertained in a most extravagant style, £1 per head being jmid for the hotel hills ofeacli guest at the canal and £2 Us. at Cairo. The whole expenditure of the fetes came to considerably more than £1,000,000. Even literature got some pickings out of this gorgeous outlay, the author of an official history of the cere mony being paid £I,OOO for "copy." Doubtless Ismail fancied that by this costly outlay tic was building up an ab solute independent throne. If so, it must have been a grievous disappoint ment when lie had to sell to the porte his new ironclads, especially precious sym bols of independent power. Year after year tilings went on. the linancial situa tion growing steadily worse ami worse. The great Disraeli coup of purchasing tiie khedive'a canal shares set him on legs for a time, but the end was ap proaching.—London Spectator. Origin of Numn of Fubric.t. Everything connected with one's busi ness is of importance. Very few dry goods, men know the origin of the names of many of the goods they handle. They may teem trivia! points, but they are of interest to the man who seeks to be thor oughly familiar with the merchandise in which lie deals. For the information of such we give the derivation of tlienainea of the following goods: Damask is from the city of Damascus; satins from Zay town, in China; calico from Calicut, a town in India, formerly celebrated for its cotton cloth and where calico was also printed Muslin is named from Mosul, in Asia. Alpaca from an animal in Peru, of the llama species, from whose wool the fabric is woven. Buckram takes its name from Fostat, ti city of the Middle Ages, from which the modern Cairo is descended. Taffeta and tabby from a street in Bagdad. Cambric from Oarnbrai. Gauze has its name from Gaza; baize for Bajnc; dim ity from Datnietta, and jeans from Jean. Drugget is derived frotu a city in Ire land. Droghedu Duck conteS from Torque, in Normandy. Blanket is called after Tbonias Blanket, a famous clothier connected • h (lie introduction of wool ens into Fit it; ad about 1840. Serge de rives i, air from Xerga, a Spanish natiti . -i peculiar woolen blanket. Din p. i* int Tom D'Vpres, as it is sometime, inted. lut from the Greek diasproti, t .uic.l. Velvet is from the Italian veliute. woolly (Latin vellus—a hide or i>elt). Shawl is the Sanscrit sala. floor, for shawls were first u-' d ascar jiets ami lape.-.try. Bandanna is from the Indian word to bind or tie, I e au.v> it is tied in knots before dyeing. Chintz from the Indian chott. Delaine is (lie French "of wool."—Trade Journal. Kreiicliuirtt Surprised at .Siimvlinl N. The first snow of lite season reminded an artist friend >!' a snow storm which he exporiei "d a \vignon, in the south of Franc • ror two ago. No snow had been :t at \vignon for twenty years jiri ■ is, and the surprised French man hi. n n<.r what ii> luahoof it. An amusing si in if was them try to make snowballs and pelt one another. Experience had never taught them the art which every New England hoy learns as soon as lie 1 -aves his cradle, and they handled the low as daintily as d ies a cat when he lit!. lier paws one by one in a surprised manner, and shakes them before she > its iheiu down a ii. Two American ... ; fo.md gr ,t <!■ light in rt i.im; stow.. . i- and enga ;big hi the i ray. an-1 lb-y nil putt in ■ :i. ire village ei Fivnc . wen I iduioiv. "¥Oll pet ston 01 tin in!" they v-l when they; it tl. . ■ an v.-;. .I '.'hard . nowball. 't v - iho> u t this was not In. . >t the . couM 1 ; under stand how the 1 mericaii i < . akri their mi i! > hard or thr tlietn with such f >r .ud .Mr • vil lagers of \vi:;> a will no 1 long re member their Waterloo at ho hands of the two At •ri.aui urti ts.—Boston Ad vertiser. No ISunUo. It liavi n ruiuorc i that a promi nent Lie ;■ i: r i 1 been bunkoed out of S4OO in New York city, a i. i.ind called upon birr. id told Jiim what was said, and asked him if there was an) truth in the report. "Not an i '.a, -ir!" .<t 111 - indignant response. , "It's ia.fidur lio.v the report irtcd." "So it is. and if 1 could trace it back I'd make il liar eat his words." "I thought it was odd." "So it i . The only thing I can think of to give ri: 3 to such a story is the fact that 1 met a young man in New York, who said he had drawn two valuable, books in a I try. lie offered mo one or ■ them if i would go along and get it. I went and found they had a lottery draw-J ing in the same room. I bought $400! worth of tick is and drew aWaterbuiyl watch, but I was never lucky in suchj things. The idea that I could ho taken in by such a bunko man! I'd like to got my hands on some of those fellows who start such lying reports!"— Detroit Free Press. Not All lie Seemed. Ethel—Who was that jolly old fellow that kept the table in a roar? Edward—That was Nophlowers, the obituary editor of The Weekly Casket.— Pittebui'g Bulletin.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers