Aikthemnticftl expert estimate that ttio Bt. Louis convention cost, directly and indirectly, nonrly 4,000,000. Sir Edwin Arnold would like to see in all Christian governments a minis ter of itnto charged with the interests of tha birds, beasts and fishes', Ttyo perilossness of nn array stir geon'a life is illustrated by the fnct that out of twenty surgeons on the battle-field of Abba Carina in Abyssin ia, seventeen were killed in action. United States Minister Hansom snys American capital is building up -Mexican prosperity. Of President Diaz he says: "A wiser and better magis trate never guided the destinies of a nation. " Mr. (.Hailstone has written a letter in which he says he regards the Turk ish Government as "the greatest soourge of mankind and the greatest disgrace and scandal to religion, in cluding the religion of Mohamet, on the face of the earth." The University of Strasburg con tained iu 1883 three men, each un known to tho other and each of whom has since achieved international fume. The trio consisted of Fadorewskl.tben musical instrnotor at the university ; Professor Roentgen, professor of physics, and Nioola Testa, who was in stalling an electric plant for the uni versity. Say the St Louis Globe-Domoorat: "Tho popular impatience of the law' delay is strongly emphasized by the fact that in the last ten years the number of lynchings and mob execu tions has considerably exceeded that of the legal hangings, while both have fallen so far below the number of homicides as to suggest that still a vast number of guilty men escape a fata they riubly deserve. From Janu ary 1, 1892, to the end of 1891, there were in this country 49,934 murders, or homicides, 917 legal executions and 1,495 lynchings, only 2,412 murders out of 40,934 coming to justice. The showing is calculated to appal even conservative men, since it proves not only increasing disregard for human life, but increasing reluctance to ad minster stern justice to the worst form of crime." The bicycle as a bail bond, nnndSa ces the Chicago Times-Herald, is a new use for this omuifying vehicle which rises to every emergency. FoolUh scorchers and other luckless riders get arrested from time to time and hard -hearted policemen lug them off to the roundhouse, where often they are obliged to pass a hapless night. It is not every cyclist that can at a moment's notice summon friends to a distant police station to give bail- In this dire strait a happy thought occurred to some one that the wheel itself ought to be suflloieut bail for the appearanoo of its owner the next day to answer for his misfeasance. No sooner suggested than acted npon, and the chief of police in Now York bss issued an order that wheelman who are arrested may be released by leaving their wheels as security for their subsequent appearance. The extent of the recent disastidus storm in St Louis has at last been as certained, and there is cause for con gratulation, remarks the Atlanta Con stitution, in the authorized statement which comos from St. Louis that all reports as to the devastation wrought by the oyolone have been grossly ex aggerated. After a most thorough in vestigation the board of assessors ha fixed the actual loss of property in fit. Louis at $10,238,000. This is mnoh smaller than the estimated loss which was hastily computed at the time of the storm. The number - of buildings totally destroyed is placed at 321. If thoso buildings were ar ranged in succession they would extend for a distance of nearly two miles. The total number of build ings partially destroyed is fixed at 8,512, equivalent to a row of dwellings thirty-three miles long. Estimating five persons to eaoh bouse the destruc tive work of the oyolone ha entailed more or less privation npon 40,000 people. Had the oyolone visited a town of that size it would have al most completely demolished it As il ia the devastation wrought by the oy olone in 8t Louis is bad enough. It - might have been a great deal worse and there ia mnoh to be thankful ' for ia the maguifioeut buildings and pala tial homes which have been spared, St Louie will soon reoover front the injuries which she has reoeived and, while she will always remember the eyelona with a shudder, she will, no doubt, gather renewed strength from bar disaster and be all tha greater be cause of the tribulations through rl ' i has pajMsd, ,larn t Labor and Walt Forth lessons of life Thy are many oml strn t Ami the hardnst to loam Is not mmterful strlfo For n king or a state It Is only to wait. Youth Is eager to start On the ocean alone, F.re, his strength be full-grown ) And though Attn from Ills l)"ftrt May of perils Inform, 81111 ho thirsts for the storm. If his courage I1 strong Hit may struggle along Ami by sorrow grow strong Ami th'i r"rj, as they fly, May allot him life's prize On this si to of thH skies. ' But the many that strive For the laurelj must fall i Ami f ill many a s:ill At Dinth's port shall arrlvn, That could enter Joy's gate Would Its master but wait, -frank Putnam In Chicago Times-Herald. COUSIN MARY ANN. DT BELEK FOnHRST GRAVES, Eveleen Blake was a school teacher. Rather a laborious and ill-paid life it was for a girl of nineteen; but she knew that she had her own living to earn somehow. There wasn't an inkling of romance in her life, 'exoept what she uncon sciously absorbed out of the books in the circulating library. No hand some young bachelor school trustee ever thought of falling in love with her; no wealthy old gentleman odopted her as his sole heiress and legatee, and she hadn't a rich relative in all the world except one old nuut out in Wisconsin, who had never no ticed her existence in any way what soever, and apparently didn't intend to. Her two sisters were both mar ried Mrs. Simon Sykes and Mrs. Tohn Smith and each of them looked out industriously for Number One. "Eveleen has had an eduction, "said Mrs. Sykes. "Lit her take ears of herself. Of course one wants to be listerly and all that sort of thiug, but when dear Simon married me, he lidn't expect to marry tho whole fam ily." "Of course not," said Mrs. Smith. "She can't expect us to support her." And beyond an occasional invitation to a Christmas or a Thanksgiving din ner, poor Eveleen received very littlo countenance from her sisters. Hut she was a cheery, light-hearted lassie, this Eveleen Blake, and plodded patiently along the dull routine of her daily life, making tho best of every thing. Five hundred a year wasn't a stu pendous income, to be sure, but Eve leen knew how (o economize it to the very best advantage. She dressed as plainly as any Quaker, kept house daintily in two littlo rooms, and put by a dollar a week in the nearest sav ings bank against a possible rainy day. She was mending a pair of gloves one afternoon by the window, when Mrs. Simon Sykes walked in, with a great rustling and smell of patchouli. Mrs. Simon Sykes nee Deborah Blake was tall and large and rosy. Eveleen. was on the petite scale, with large, limpid gray eyes, very little oolor, and straight brown hair which shone and glistened like satin in the levol rays of the deolining sun. Mrs. Sykes wore a stiff black silk dress, with a set of staring cameos, and mammoth pink rose in her bat "Dear me I" she said, "how good that teapot smells on the stove I And I'm olean tired out with my walk." "Would you like a cup of tea?" said Eveleen. "Well, I don't mind," said Mrs. Sykes, unpinning her shawl; "that is, if you've a bun or a biscuit to nibble with it. Tea alone always gives me the heartburn." So Eveleen went to work industri ously and brewed a cup of tea, and brought out a plate of rusks which were to have made her own frugal evening meal "But I can eat a craoker or so," said self-denying little Eveleen, as she watched the rusks disappear be fore Mrs. Simon Sykes' appetite. "I've had ' such a turn," said Mrs. oyses, as sue oeia out iter cup lor a seoond replenishing. "A turn?" said Eveleen, inquir ingly. "Yes," nodded Mrs. Sykes; "a visit from a poor relation, who Uvea out West I dare say she'll be here next, but I advise you to' send her about her business, ss I did." "Who is it? " said Evsleen, in sur prise. ".t'a Mary Ann Blake, from Claw's Corners, Miobigan. Wants something to do. Expects me to take her in and give her a home until she can obtain a situation." "There's the little hall bedroom that you don't use," hinted Eveleen, who had a aort of instinctive sympathy for the houseless and homeless. "I want that for Mr. Sykes' rela tives when they come to town." said Mrs. Sykes. "He's got a single brother with property, and a married sister, with no children, who is very well off indued? and if I don't want it; I don't propose to open a free asylum for every old maid that comes along." "But what will she do?" "Do? Why, do as other folks do,I suppose. Go to a cheap boarding house. There's plenty of 'em, I'm sure." "But if she hasn't got any monoy?" "Then she's no business here," said autocratic Mrs. Sykes. "Why didu't she stay out West, where her friends could tnku care of her?" 'Terhnps site hasn't any friends." "Then sho certaiuty must be au un deserving character," said Mrs. Sykes shaking the rusk crumbs down npon Eveleen's neatly-swept carpet "Oh, here's Selina Smith, as true as the world!" Mrs. John Smith caine fluttering in a thin, sharp-featured littlo wonun with snapping black eyes. "Oh," she cried, "you're here, are you, Debby? How do, Eveleen? Well, siuce you're takiug tea, I will have a cup I Heard the usws?" as she sat herself down. "About Mary Ann Blake? Yes, of course," answered Mrs. Sykes, with a toss of the head. She's been to see ine;but I seut her about her busi ness." "Well, she certainly can't expect us to provide for her," said Mrs. Smith, beginning to crumble up the reserve of crackers that Eveleen had brought out, with a sigh. "Smith's salary ain't large, ami I've a considerable-sized family of my own. I told her pretty plainly that, as far as I was concerned, she needn't expect anything. I do hate these genteel beggars I And if she should come here, Eveleen, I hope you will give her the cold shoulder. Hush I There's a knock uow. If it should b) horl" "It's a good thing we are here to advise," said Mrs. Sykes, as Eveleen went to the d or. "Eveleen is so un suspecting 1 Auy one could impose upon herl" "Yes, to-bi-sure," nodded Mrs. Smith, complacently. "And But, dear me, it is Mary Anut" Both the sistors nodded frigidly at the nppronch of a tall, nervous-looking woman, in shabby black, followed by Eveleen, who drow out the softest easy-chair for her accommodation, and geutly untied her wispy bonnet strings. "Do Bit aowu," said Eveloea. " am sure you are tired, hit me give you a cup of tea." "les, said Mary Ann Blake, look ing apprehonsively from Mrs. John Sykes to Mrs. John Smith, "lam tired. I have been walking a good ways." "I hope you've got a situation," said Mrs. Smith, icily. But Mary Ann Blake shook her head. "It was very foolish of you to come here at all, wanting your money ou uu exponsive journey," said Mrs. Sykes. "Why couldn't you go to Auut Pam ela. (Now Auut Pamela was the rich old aunt in Wisconsiu, who so systemati cally ignored her nieoes in New York, and kept her money in United States bonds, instead of investing it in Mr. Sykes' wholesale grocery, or Mr. Smith's insuranoe company.) "I did," said Mary Ann, dejectedly, "But she decliued to assist me." "Stingy old harridunl" said Mrs. Sykes, with energy. "She has a right to do as she pleases with her own, I suppose," said Eve leen, who was boiling up a teaspoon ful of frosh tea for tha pale guest, and cutting a little smoked boot in thin slice". "No sho hasn't," said Mrs. Smith. "People get so miserly I" "Sykes thinks we might some day clap her iuto a Iuuatio asylum, and put the property iuto the hands of trustees, for the use of her relatives," said Mrs. Sykes. "I don't know about that," said Mary Ann Blake. "I only know she would uot give me anything. And do not know what to do. You are my cousins. Perhaps--" "Oh, indeed we can't do anything for you I" said Mrs. Sykes, beooming absolutely Arotia in her demeanor. while Mrs. Smith drew herself up.and set her thin lips together like a thread of oartuiue. "Bettor get back West as fast as you ciu," aided Mrs. Sykes. "By all means," said Mrs. Smith, with a toss of her head. "And tell that old hag out in Wisoonsiu- that she's a deal "better .able to provide for you tbau we are." - "No." said Eveleeu. gently. She had been looking from one to the other of her relatives as they spoke, and now interposed with her soft voice and pitying gray eyes. "Cousin Mary Ann shall stay with me, Thore'a plenty of room on my little iron bed stead for two, and I can go out with her, looking for a situation, nftor school hours. To-be-sure, I haven't great deal, but what little I have I wilt share with Cousin Mury Ann." "Eveloon, you're crazy I" said Mrs. Simon Sykes, uplifting both her hands. "You're a fool ("politely added Mrs, Smith. But the stranger's lip quivered. "God bless yon, child 1" said she, rising up and putting aside the veil of worn lace that dropped on her face. 'Aud now, girls, I may as well tell you that 1 am your Aunt raui'jia. Mary Aun Blako is an eutlrely imagi nary person." "You Aunt Pamela?" shriekod Mrs, Sykes. "Yes I." "But you are rich." Teople say eo." "Theu," gasped Mrs. Smith, "why do you come hero iu the guise of a beggar?" 'To try the hearts and natures of my three nieces," said Aunt Pamela, dryly. "Deborah oalls me an old harridan, Saline refuses to help me by so much as a penny, but little Eveleen is willing to share her scanty all with me. And I'll be as generous with her. What money the old woman has to leave shall be Eveleen Blake's." Mrs. Simon Sykes and Mrs. John Smith looked at each other in dismay, But it was too late to apologize now the mischief was done, and the fact that they bad doue it themselves was a poor consolation. And little Eve leen was an heiress after all. --Saturday Night Warm Weather Hints. I have geuerady found that the heat or the cold, the wet weather or the dry, the wiudy or tho oloudy, affeoted me very little if I went calmly on and made the best of it One's work should occupy one's thoughts and one a bauds so fully that one has no time to be troubled about surround iugs of atmosphere. The busy girl is happier than the indolent girl for the reason that her mind is taken up with somothiog worth while. A Jittle caution about tans. Don't fan so vigorously that you put your solf into a heat by the exertion. Never fan the b ick of your friend's neck if you are sitting behind her. Fan with a gentle, steady motion, so that waves of airstriko your own face, but not so that you seud icy shivers dowu your neighbor's spine. On a very sultry day nothing is gained by drinking a great deal of ice water. The more one driuks the more thirsty one grows. A littlo water held iu the mouth a moment, and allowed to trickle slowly down the throat, will relieve thirst more effectually than a gobletful hastily tossed off. The question comes up every sum- tnor.how shall we best keep our homes oool duriugthe sultry part of the day? Shall we olose them and shut out the heat, or simply darken them and allow the air, to oome in? My way has been to open every window, both at the top and at the bottom, early in the morning, flooding the house with the sweet, oool air. Then, about ten o'olock, or earlier, olose the windows, exoept for a few inches at the bottom. and fasten shutters and blinds so that they will not fly open. Darken every room which you are not using until the sun goes down. But do uot sit to read, sew, or practise in the dark. Your eyes need plenty of light When you go into the darkened rooms, do so to rest, not to work. Harper's Bound Table. A Groat Shot. James Shields was elected to the United States Senate in 1848, de feating his predecessor, senator Breeae. Shields had distinguished himself in tha Mexican war, and at the battle of Cerro Gordo he was shot through the lungs, the ball passing out at his back. His reoovery was oue of the marvels of tha day. Shield's war record is believed to have seoured to bi:u his triumph over Breeae. When the news of Shields'a eleotion was reoeived, a lawyer named Butterfleld was speaking of it to a group of friends, when one of them remarked: "It was that Mexican bul let that did the business." "Yes," restored Butterfleld, "that was s great shot. The ball went dear through Shields without hurting him, and killed Breesa one thousand miles away." Argonant There sr'e 660 women journalists, editors and authors in England and Wales, acoording' to the last census re- ports. . l';-M.ri- in SLurrtrowif. Pretty, ilrowsy, baby eyes, 'Nimtli the whlt lids blinking, Far away up In tho oklcs Rome bright stars are winking. They light the way tt a baby-show To whim, sweet on, you soon mast go. Look pleasant -smootk that tiny frown Ami you'll take the prim In Rlm-pytown. IlalH-s will be thero from across the sa, The blsi'k-nyeri Turk ami small t'kinro, Tho fur-wrapped, f .nny Ks'pilmau, Whose hut Is placod 'mid aretlo snow, Yes, from all lands this earth doth know Dables will come to tho dream-land show, And pretty, drowsy baby eyes, You will be sure to win tha prlzi. So shut your dainty eyelids down, And hie away to Hloxpytuwn. Frod U. Yaple. A ODD COINCIDENCE. The British sparrow was introduced into Boston within the Inst twenty years, and has found favor with some and abuse from many. But the birds have developed a habit which is at ouce picturesque aud amusing. At the hour of afternoon tea they assem ble from all parts of the city and perch upon the branches of the trees in the King's Chapol Burying Grouud. The poplar trees are so crowded that they seem to be budding with twitter ing birds. The noisy "caucus of crows" of which Lowell speaks is quite outdone by these sparrows. It is au odd coincidence that these Eng lish birds should every day gather in the first God's acre of the Church of England in the Massachusetts Buy Colony. New York Mercury. A BABY HYENA. The baby hyeua is the attraction at the Central Park "Zoo." A hyena in infancy is cute, bright-eyed, soft, pudgy anil kittenish. Hut it grows out of this iu time, and this frolic some little creature will a few years bonce be as villainously ugly as he is now delightful. He is a brownish hued creature, with a black muzzle, about as tall and as fat as a Newfound land puppy. His ago is three months a fact due to the vigilance of the keeper, as hor "ma" has shown here tofore a disposition to oat her off spring, having in this unnatural man' nor disposed of half a dozen young sters that would have been brothers and sisters to the latest arrival. Mrs. Hyena is as tall as a St. Bar nard, and her iufaut freely walks uu der the arch of her shaggy and ill smelling body. The baby just now has high fore legs and short hind legs, and movos about with an awkward wobble that greatly amuses the ohil dren who throug before the cage. When the baby grows up he will laugh, as does his mother, a laugh that car ries terror with it to every breast in the Zoo, bnt just now the laugh is simply a joyous gurgle. The mother is fond of her son in hyena war, and evidently believes with Solomon that to spare the rod is to spoil the child. One day last week she gave bar offspring a trounoing that he will uot forget in a hurry. It seems that whan the daily allowance of meat.scraps and bones were thrown iuto the cage she declined to allow the iufant any portion of it Some oue called the koeper'a attention to this seemingly selfish act but the keeper said "ahe probably kue best." The youngster evidently did not share the keeper's opinion of the wis' dom of his mother, for he made i futile effort to seizs a juicy morsel of horse meat, was oaught in the aot and punished. His name is "Whiskers." Pittsburg Dispatch. AVID Br A SEAOCTC.U, Two months befors our story opens Andy Royson, while playing ou the beach, oame aoroas a seagull wbioh in some way oad broken its wing and was unable to fly. Andy took it home and nursed it until it was well He offered the bird its liberty by tsk ing it on the beach and pitching it into the air. It' would fly a little way but would always oome baok to him. Andy soon learned to love ths bird very. mnoh. At the time onr story opens they were always together. It wonld follow Andy everywhere hs went Andy lived olose to ths bason. He 0MWM bad lenrneu to row aud his father had bought him a small ronboat There was a pile of rocks that jutted ont of the water about two milos from the bore. It was Andy's favored fishing place. He would go every Saturday and fish. His father alwavs warned him not to stay too long, because when the tldo cauio in it would be dangerous. He promised to be always on the alert He bad gotten permis sion from his father to go fishing that day. He called l'au to go with him that was what he had named the bird. Dan hopped iuto the boat Audy took up the oars and rowed to the rocks, fastened his boat to some rooks, and coinraouced fishing. Dun was sit ting by his side watching him in tently, for it was Andy's custom to give him all the small fish he caught He had unusually good luck that day, and had caught as many fish as he could very well carry. He stopped and was thinking nbout going home, but on looking at his watch be found that it was early yet, and determined to rest before going. He lay down in the ahadow of the rocks and was think ing bow surprised his mother would be when he showed her the fish. He had been lying there but a few min utes, he never could tell how it hap pened, but he fell asleep. He was suddonly awakened by feeling the water rippling around his feet He started up in surprise, but it did not frighten him then, for he knew that be could get to his boat in time. Gath ering np his fiih he called Dan and started for the boat, but judge of bit horror at finding that his boat had become loosened by the rising tide and hnd floated away. He oonldseeitfaroff iu the distance. The water was still rising. It was now at his ankles. He saw if assistance hid not reach him in 1 few hours he would be drowned. The bird seomed to know of his mas ter's danger, for he flew upon his shoulder, uttering a queer noise all the time, as if warning him of his danger. Andy went to the highest part of the rocks, there he sank down, overcome, and wept He wondered what his mother and father would think, no knew how grieved they would be if he should never come buck. Suddenly he remembored tue littlo prayer his mother had taught him, uud that God would help those who would atk Him. He sank upon bis knee and prayed a long time. When be had finished ho felt better aud more hopeful. All at once an ides struck him. Why not let Dan carry a message to hi father? Hastily takiug a penoil from his pocket he wrote a note to his father ; tying it around Dan's neck he tnrnedi him towards the land and pitched him in the air. Tho bird cir cled around twioe and then started towards the shore. How Andy prayed that be would aafely take the message to his father. The water was now up to his knees. It rose slowly, but sure ly. Now it wss up to his waist and then his shoulders. He began to lose hope,. Would his father never oome? He strained his eyes, hoping to see him coming. Suddenly he saw a dark object on the water. He continued to watoh it Finally it outlined it self into a boat with a man in it He gave a shout of joy. Pretty soon he reoognized his father's face. Hs began ahouting again. Hs aaw his father look up and redouble his efforts. Now only his bead was above water, and it was still rising. Pretty soon his father got within hail ing distance aud shouted, "for God's sake, hold out a little longer." The water slowly crept to his chin. Now he had to stand on tiptoe to keep the water out of his mouth, but it got no further. Hie father had reached him and dragged him into the boat He was too overoome to row any fur ther. Andy took np the oara and rowed back to the land, where bis mother was waiting for him. She clasped him in her arms and showered his face with kisses, laughing and cry. ing in turn. That night at the supper table they told him how Da had oome to the door, and finding that be could not get in, bad gone to the window aud tapped it with his bill until his father lot him in. They saw the paper around bis neck. Beading it, his father hur ried down to the beach and found his boat and saved him. Dan was the hero of the day. He was petted and praised by everyone, and when be died a few years later, Mr. Boyson had him buried in tha family burial ground, and a tomb' atone erected over bis grave with these) words inscribed : "Here lies Dan a haro," Atlanta Journal,
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers