LIBERTY'S MAKTYKS. BI EVA KATHARINE CLAPP. fLurtvl by the ravw of the groat electric light upon the statue of "Liberty," on Uodlne'H 141 and, hundreds of • birds nightly dash thorn selves against the wire not-work around th# heavy glH lantern and are found dead at the feet of the (ioddosß when morning dawns.- Niwtpaptrr paragraph.] Alone, on the desolato shore she 3tauds, fjerono, as the years drift by, While drawn, As by dawn, To her outstretched hands Hor wild, winged worshipers fly. The forms born to burrow, or climb, or creep, Are safe on tho earth, where they cling, But they who daro, A/o of space and air, And star ward must soar aud sing. They are thrilled and filled with a fervor caught From the infinite wind-swept main, In their steadfast flight. Toward the blinding light, Aud their welcome is -death aud pain. Oh ! wings, wings, wings, Striving through dark and rain, Merely to droop in death at tho end, Has your struggle been all iu vain? Nay, call thoinnot wasted, those visions bright That inspired each tiny breast With such keen delight •Through that weary flight, Toward tho luring star of rest. No fate so tragic cloth Wisdom teach Upon Nature's glowing page. By symbol or speech, For brave souls that reach Toward light, through each bitter age. And true as the course of tho rolling voar Is the song that yon sweet stars sing, That lUght growoth strong, O'er tho black shade, Wrong, As Buumier o'ertops the spring. Tnen beat, beat, beat, brave hearts, through Oppression's night, While Liberty stands by the bleak sea-sauds, Upholding her beacon light. FEMININE STRATEGY CHAPTER I. Ho had been telling her all he had to tell, | and now she stood there quite still, neithei by word nor glance vouchsafing tho answer for which lie pleaded. "I must know the best or tho worst. Christine," ho whispered. "Speak to me, darling." Sho started violently, and a vivid coloi ' rushed to hor cheeks. Her broad garden- i hat hid that, nut it could not shut out the sigh which died awav in a low. half sob. "I am sorry if 1 give you pain," she said, softly, so softly that the words came al most iu u murmur, "but I can not be youi wife." "I understand," with a short, hard laugh; "you will not. Pray, be frank." At t his she sllontly removed her glove and held out her hund. A soft, white hand it was, and ono little finger was encircled by u heavy band of gold. "Married?" "Not yet." And Miss Illerton's voice grew firmer now. "I am engaged to Arthur Gower." Her companion was a tall, dark man, witii u sunburnt face and a heavy mustache and honest brown eyoe, evidently not the man to bo easily overcome bv any passing emotion, yet now ho fairly staggered be neath tho blow her words had dealt; so whon ho spoke again It wus with u calm desperation. "Forgive mo." said he; "I have had so many hopes that " "Why did you not write to mo?" she inter rupted. turning upon hint sharply. "I waited to tell vou. I was a fool, that is all." "Let us have done with folly." com menced Christine, almost wearily. Then, with a sudden, passionate outburst—"Ah! Why need you have done this? Could you not see? could you not undo.stand?" Now he caught her outstretched hands, and, holding hor in his arms, pressed her closo upon his breast. For one little momont tho poor lips quivered beneath a rain of kisses, for ono moment only; then, udroitly iroeiiig herself, she said but this: "Go now. Ralph," "Christ! tie j" "Go," sho repeated: "it Is too late; under stand me—too late! I shall marry Arthur Gower. and I would not do otherwise now, even if I could." And so, quitting tho deep shadow of tho willows, never looking buck. Miss lllorton walkod down tho garden-path, her dainty white gown fluttering in tho morning breeze, iior whiter lace hard and fixed and strangely stern. Homo one mot hor as she crossed tho hall. "Whoro is Mr. Greskara. Ckristino?" "Gone." "Are you ill. dear?" "No; I will bo down presontly. Clara." passing on quickly. This abruptness would have offonded al most any other woman, but Clara Volney, being unlike almost any other woman, simply turned away, a pained pitifulness easily read In the' troublod glance of hor blue eyes. She stood loaning against tho doorway, just a littlo tinge of color in her cheeks, lior slender littlo lingers mechanically threading an unruly yellow curl, whon Miss lllorton sharply called to her from tho gal lery above. "Clara!" "Yes, doar." "I want you." Obedient Clara wus presently In hor oousin's chambor, listening to a half con fession born of solf-rebuke and a wild yearning for some word ol tender oonsolu tlon. "Wo have no secrots from each other, have wo, Clara?" commenced Miss Ulerton, "No, none." "From tho time—so long ago!—whon iny £oor father died—from tho moment when o put your hand in mine, and bade us iovo each other, not us cousins only but as Bisters doar, have I ever, by word or deed, put that last counsel to shame, Clara?" "Never, Christine." "Think again." "Never." reiterated tho girl. "It is fnlsel" criod Miss lllorton. her chucks ablaze now; "I liavo wronged you by a foolish silonco: I have insulted tho dead by willful disobedience; in nothing have I acted like a sister; a sister would have gone to you and said: 'Clara. I have promised to bo Arthur Gower's wife; this ring I wear is tho token of love; I am happy, share my content.' That is what a sister would have done—what I should have done; Is It not?" "Arthur Gower?" The flush had quite fuded from Clara's cheeks, but hor eyes were bright with some keen emotion of surprise or jov, or maybe p&tn. "Yes." wont on Christine, never hooding this, "and just now, in tho garden, who should como but Ralph Greskum. and - ho loves ino. Clara." "Well?" "But it is too lute," said Miss llierton. almost in undertone. "What did you toll him?" askod her cousin, eagerly, "What I have told you—that it was too late, and that I would not. even if I could." Bho spoke vory slowly, marking each word With a lingering emphasis; then, as tho lost fell from her lips sho started up with a merry laugh. "Just think of it. Clara—Arthur Gower! Did I toil you what ho said? Lis ten. It was the drollest woolug! He took my hand and slipped that ring upon my finger; I knew then what was coming, and so kopt very still. •Christine,' said he. 'it Is our parents' wish, you remember, that you should bo my wife—will you consent?' And I consented, of course. Ko. there, now. that troublesome affair is arranged, and I am to marry him. and For heav en's sako, Clara, open that wii.t.ow! oiio Stifles hero!" She eamo and stood by Iter cousin, and in silence the two looked out upon the stretch of land where tho fiat brown tracts wore all cut by low fences, and then be yond upon the dark bolt oT woods, now soft ened and shadowed by the purple haze ol the fast fulling night. Presontly, turning to Miss lllorton. Clara asked, in a hal'-whisper: "Are you happy, Christine?" "Who? IV Whiit u ilroU nuostion! Why. 1 am now the happiest woman in the world." Tho next gray daybreak stolo in through that same window upon a woman who had passed the livelong night crouched in that great chair, her head resting upon the • broad sill. A pale-faced creature, who looked up list lessfy when the swallows commenced twit toring in the far-reaching eaves, and then with n sigli and a shudder turned from thb 1 ever new glory of tho coining day. "O. Lord!" sho cried, and said no more. You are not to judge. Rurely this was u cry lor thanksgiving, for. by hor own con fession. she was the happiest woman in the world. CHAPTER 11. A summer's day slowly dying—a tendei gloom stealing down the long aisles of forest trees and the low murmur of softly plashing riplets; a in ass of jnggod black rocks, with the last rays of sunlight glint ing upon their bald tops, and gnarled branches overreaching low, forn-tufted banks, to dip in the peaceful water. Imagine this, and you have the picture ol th- little lake at "The Crag." Then imagine a tiny, prettily painted canoe, with a young woman ut either end. and a gontloinan fairly dividing his attention between his companions and the skillful management of the slender oars. Now you iiavo Miss Ulerton. hor cousin and Ai thnr Gower. They hud been floating lazily on. with barely a word now and then to break a stillness almost painful, until they neared the dangerous Black Ilocks; then the little wherry beoume entangled in the stealthy current and veered with a treacherous lurch—a lurch sharp enough to (ling one of the women backward, aud dangerous enough to startle Arthur into u singularly awkward betrayal of emotion. The little form had barely swayed whon the gentleman, with a hoarse cry, sprang forward. "Clara! My Cod, Clara!" That was all he said; yet, when he ro meinbored himself, ho was holding Clara Volney in his arms. "Is she hurt?" The voice was Miss Illerton's, and now Arthur Cower remembered, too, that the woman whom ho should marry was beside him. "Are you hurt. Christine?" he asked, Hushing hotly as his arms fell from Clara. "Not at all. thank you." "Nor am I." protested hor cousin, laugh ing nervously. "Only frightened. It was so sudden, you see." "Ves, it was sudden, certainly." acquiesced Miss lllorton; "sudden and pleasant." This extraordinary assertion remained uncontradicted, for not another word was spoken until the boat was being made tast to the low. quaintly contrived landing of roughly hewn logs; then, as Miss llierton stepped upon this rustle platform, Arthur Gower touched her hand, detalnlngly. "What is the matter, ChristineV" ho ven tured. "Why. what should be the matter?" And now, affecting to notice for the ilrst time his awkward hesitation, she continued, .smilingly. "My dear boy. just put that oar ! in its proper place, will you? Then follow us up to the house as quickly as possible. Those people will be there." "Those people" wore city friends who en joyed amazingly frequent visits to The Crag, and to welcome them now hastened the hospitable mistress of the old manor house, leaving Mr. Cower in a most puinfui state of anxious doubt and self-convicted treachery. * * # * * * Christine Ulerton was not a woman of hair measuros. That night she entered hoi cousin's chamber, and without ado put this straightforward question: "How long has this been going on?" "Going on?" "Toll me. I wish tho truth; I wish you | to be frank." "Why. what do you mean?" asked Clara, yet never looking up. "You understand inc. How long has this been going on between you and—and—tho the man whom I intend to marry?" At this Clara lifted hor head and looked at her com.in with innocent, /curlers eyes. "You do not mean to accuse us of any thing like a flirtation, I hope," sho said, proudly. "Oh. no," was Miss Illerton's cool re sponse; "I acquit you ot that. There has been no flirtation; but there bus boon a groat deal of intensely earnest love-mak ing. That knowledge was forced upon me this afternoon, remember." "Ah. Christine!" And hero this young woman displayed woeful ignorance of the first principles of feminine strategy; for, instead of uuroitly maneuvering, carefully marshaling hor re plies. and skillfully defending all weak points of hor false position from tho un sparing vigilance of that keon-oyod sharp shooter. Miss Christine Ulerton. the silly creature only hid hor face in her hands, and. 'twixt piteous sobbings, proclaimed hor ignominious overthrow. "Ah. cousin—ah, Christine!" "Instead of calling my name In that utter ly! iicoiuprehensiblo manner, you would do better to answer my question," suggested Miss Ulerton. "How long has Arthur Gowor loved you?" "I never knew that lie loved mo." protest ed the offender. "Yot ho told it very plainly this after noon. and 1 was present, it you recollect." "Christine, dear Christine!" Clara was standing now. not weeping, but speaking with low, impressive eagerness. "As 1 live, never before has he said as much as that; never before has ho uttered ono word that you might not have hoard—never, Chris tine, cousin!" "Do you toll me this upon your honor?" "Upon my honor." "But you love him, of course. There, you nuod not turn away. Keep your socrot, child. Only remember this, that you are willfully walking to a moral destruction, for I shall certainly marry tho man you love. Good-night, dear." * * * * * # "What docs it matter to mo? Why should I euro if she breaks hor heart lor him? Do I caro? Not I." protested Miss llierton. as sho sauntered slowly to her own room, an Injur later, after an awkward leave-tak ing with Mr. Gower. "They make their own misery. That which is not worth asking is not worth having, surely. She s a 1001, but he is a coward; so. after all, I save her from a wretched futo." CHAPTER 111. I.ifo, like nature, has its unnatural calms— treacherous culius preceding ruth loss dev astation—or else there come those seasons of dead stillness when both life and nature seem to have paused, half-affrighted at the wreck and ruin cumbering their paths. Such a time hud coino to Christine mor ion. Throughout that livelong night had she been wit i her past, and that grim gos sip had told her many bitter truths, had shown hor tho graves deep buried in her heart, had uncovered tho faces of the dead there lying, and of those, one there was— ah. hoavonl how neur. how real: "But it may never bo now," she mur mured. "never! Dead? Ay, in very truth is ho dead to mo! For whon I killed his trust I killed ids love. anJ so—ah, good Lord, be moroiful!" The old cry, you see. Truly, her need was sore. There was no ono In the breakfast-room when Christine entered but ltuynor, tho housekeeper. A cheery little octagon was that break fast-room, especially so whon a soft air gently lifted the light curtains of its many windows, and a pleasant light shimmered among the glass and silver of its snow covered. woll-orduiod table. "Where Is Miss Volnoy?" "Sho Is not very woll, Miss Christine." was llaynor's answer—"not woll. and she won't bo down. I have seen hor. and it's only a bad headache: so illore's no need to worry, dear." Miss llierton did not worry. She ato her rolls and sipped her coffee onjoyingly. Then. wll\ hor own hands, she prepared a tempting dttle moal. daintily arranged. "Lot this be taken to my cousin, please." ".My dear. be will not touch bit or siq* There Is really no use," objected ltaynor. "Take it. please, and tell her that 1 wish her to eat," said Miss llierton. Presently sho was in Clara's chamber. That young person was yot in bed, and had been weeping. Indeed, judging from her appeuranee the whole night had been spent in that pleasant diversion. Still, she con trived In some awkward manner to screen her eyes, but her voice betrayed her; that trombled treacherously. To neither of these tokens did Miss lllor ton vouchsafe any notice. In tho most mutter-of-tact manner possible sho busied herself about tho room, then approached the sufferer. "Are you hotter. Clara?" "Much better, thank you. ChristJno." "Very Weil. Now listen to me. Why did you not tako the breakfast I sent you?" "I couldn't." "I understand. See. Clara, you must obey mo. Hero are my instructions— commands, if you will. You are to remain quite still aud try to sleep. Don't attempt to como down to luncheon. Yours shall bo brought to you." "I wish you would not. Christine, lleally. "Nonsonsol" sharply rotorto I her cousin. "Do you Intend to sturvo? None but hero ines of high tragedy do such things, and even they always announce thoir suicidul j Intentions in doubtful blank verse. You i have not done that yot. Will vou begin?" i "I am so wrotohod!" moaned tho girl—"so utterly and unspeakably wretched!" "Very good." continued the other, with stolcul indifference; "but you are to remain here until I send for you. That will not be bofoi e the altornoon. I have much to do fr,?P r rug. n 'ug. and can not spare a momont Don t be silly, Clara; don't blind your eyes and blotch your face with toars. There, vou are erring again, Good heavens, worn- I an: wniu ira great grior lias oouio into your life? Need you nurse it after such a fash- But tlie startling vohemonco of this ap peal produced an effect altogether contrary to tho one intended. Clara only gave way to a porfect passion of sobs, whereat Miss lUorton impatiently shrugged her shoul ders. and without another word walked from the room. CHARTER IV. "You did mo a groat injustice." said she. wearily. "You should have acknowledged this sooner. Hud you dono so " "Well?" cuiue the eager question. Miss Illerton finished her sontonce with icy composure: "Had you dono so you would have spared me much annoyance, that is all." "Boos Clara know that?" cominenoed Mr. Gower. then paused abruptly. "That you and I came to an understanding yesterday? No, she does not." A moment of silonco. thon spoke Mr. Gow or again: "You must not despise me. now. Chris tine." "I did—yes. I despised what appeared to mo an unmanly weakness and pitiful false hoo i. I did not consider tho nnstakon sense of honor which caused you to hosltuto be fore inflicting an imuginary pain." "If you hau ever lovod mo. Christine " "But I never lovod you," she interrupted, with groat earnestnoss. "This marriage was arranged between our paronts. Wo lent ourselves to tho sinful plottings of others; therein lay our fault. Why. we have boon miracles of obstinate stupidity!" "Christine, suppose that all hud boon dif ferent; suppose that " "That you had loved me. Is that what you wish to say?" "Well. yes. tliut I had not lovod Clara— would you then really have sacrificed your self to mo?" Miss Illerton did not answer immediately. She sat for a moment quite still, hor head resting upon her hand. "I can not tell." she said at last, half dreamily. "Heaven help mo. I can not telll ' I believed that I was doing right." Then, with sitddon energy; "Never mind what ra'njht have been! Think only of what i.s/ Wait here. I will bo back presently." And she hurried from tho loom. Hho was back pi osontly—with Clara Vol noy. Tho young lady was very pale, but preserved a remarkable composure. Miss llloi ton's keen eyos, however, detected tho sudden flush, and hor firm fingers felt the tremor of the little hand they clasped. But hero was ono who would not waste so much as ono poor word on all this an guish. Leading her companion forwurd, she paused before her visitor; then she spoke: "Mr. Arthur Gower, I give you my cousin as a wife." "Christine!" "J.'o not interrupt mo. Mr. Gower has been making a confession, and so liavo I, und we understand ouch other now. You must * It wus Mr. Gower who interrupted hor here. Ho had taken her hand and kissed it reverently. "What can [ suy. Christine?" "My dear boy, say nothing— to me. There is Claru." Hho turned away laughingly. At the door she stopped suddenly, then retraced hor steps. "Bo you seo nothiug?" she usked. "Bo neither of you miss anything?" "I do!" cried Clara. "Where is it?" "Aro you sure that you understand me?" "Ah, yes, 1 am surol Oh. Arthur, whero is it?" But. Arthur said novor a word, only stood silently gazing at Christine. "Ho does not know," avorred tho latter, with mock gravity, "but I will tell you. 1 threw it in tlie river this morning when I was riding." Hero Miss Illerton held up hor hand, and lo! tho ring, the token of betrothal, was no longer in its plucol Thus had she decided tho muttor of her marriage with Arthur Gower. n * # * # * There had been a busy time at Tho Crag, such a busy time as inevitably precedes a marriage, and now came tho lull which as inevitublv follows those poriods of hazard ous excitement. Tho pretty pageant was ovor, and Arthur was gene, and his wife was gone, and only a lonely woman romuinod at the old place— a very lonely woman, one who had let hor hopes go by, had put her suffering aside, anu now. patiently bearing tho uuruou of the day, waited for that night for which, in tho cruel pangs of hor anguish, she long ingly yearned. Ho time wo e drearily on. until ono day Miss Illerton sat in the library trying to fix hor mind on tho book which lay open in. her lap. when suddenly, she knew not how it came about, a strangely rapturous ex poi toney seemed to have overcome hor, when directly she hoard tho drawing-room door close and a visitor onter. A charm took possession of tier, and she immediately aroso and crossed tho room, and as sho parted tho portiuro hor breath came in deep, gasping sobs, and she stood quite motionless, hor eyos resting on ltalph Grosham. "Christine!" Tho woeful oyos biightonod now. "I hoard of this. Christino. I liavo been away, you know—far away. I have come for ' you,' Christine." "And I have waitod for you. oh. my be loved!" His strong arm was übout her now, her head was pillowed upon his faithful breast, and it tears wot hor chook bo sure thoy were very liupny tears. Tho past, with its sorrows und shadows, was gone; and now a love so great hud come to hor that through its radianco she read tho promise of a blessed peace, and joy unutterable. If you do not boliovo that the fates were kind to Christiuo ask liuJph Groshuiu's wife. , MOKE OH LKSS AMUSING* HERE to stay—tlie corset maker, j APPROPRIATE for a tire-woman—a fa [ tigue dress. A NOBBY suit—prosecuting a l>oy foi pulling off a door knob. THE Holy See—certainly, it is the wicked who are blind. See? How TO be happy though married— I Never contradict your wife. NATIONS move by cycles, says Emer- j son. Boys move bievlos, too. THE crying need of this country is a back gate that nobody can hang a joke on. ONE tiling that seldom "gets l' l Hie soup" is the oyster at tlie church fes tival. JONES, who is engaged lo an heiress, calls her Economy, because slie is the road to wealth. MANY grave charges are made against citizens by the secretary of a ceme tery association. WE have often wondered how houses, which always stand, can show their seating capacity. WIFE— Did your friend Jack con gratulate you oil the birth of our child ? j Husband—No. Ho sympathized with me though. WHAT'S in a name? One of the "old settlers" of Chicago lias disappeared from the city leaving $2-I,OOd worth of unsettled debts. A DEBATING society is discussing the question : "Does a circus vaulter fall or tumble in love?" An impression pre vails that lie does. THE ping tobacco manufacturers' trust, it is stated, will not icrease pri ces. It will not increase its quid pro quo by decreasing tho size of plugs. Of the two evils chews the lessor. LITTLE BOY (going to church)—-Mo, may I have a new sixpence to put in the plate? Ma—Why a now one, George? Little boy—Because the clergyman says, "Let your light shine before men." NOTHING seems to be too moan for somo men. Tliere is an old fellow in Maine who is imposing on bis liens most shamefully. He lias put an electric light in the hen house and the liens lay day and niglit. BOOK AGENT — I should like to show you our new cheap edition of the En cyclopedia Britannica. Vermont, farmer —Mister, you needn't show mo any 'cyclopedias. My boy grud nates from college this week. NYE OX BEE CULTURE. | THE HUMORIST STUDIES TIIE BUSI NESS END, Hl* Investigation- Forcibly Impro.sn Him j with the ItestleHK Habits of the Insect* j unci Tlieir Dollglit to Fasten tho Same ' Upon Huuianlty. EES should not be p. .v( a hived until tit o x T m swarm, writes Bit \ I B Nye, iu tho Chicago ( I Ilerald. Been begin tho now queen does tho toil. The * bonoy bee proper bo> longs to tho ordoi llymenoptera. Ali T in tho genus Aids.but / they are now divided into many genera. I love to study the boo and at one time kept bees myself. I kept several of them longer than I should have done. But honov bees are lull of interest to mo. I often ill ink of tho language of a late writer who goes on to state "that with in so small a body should bo contained an apparatus for converting the various sweets which it collects into ono kind of nourish ment for itself, another for the common brood, glue for its carpentry, was for its cells, poison tor its enemies, honey for Its master, with a proboscis as long us tho body itself, microscopic in several parts, telescopic in its modo of action, with a sting so exceedingly sharp that were it magnified by the saiuo glass which niakos a needle's point seem a quarter of an inch across it would yet itselt be invisible, and this. too. a hollow tube—that all these varied operations and contrivances should bo included within half an inch of lengtli and two grains of mutter Is surely enough to crush all thoughts of atheism and ma terialism." I also compare sometimes the new colony just starting out to hustle for themselves with the Pilgrim Fatlieis—wlieie are they? —who came to these wild, inhospitable shores, taking their long, tedious, unevent ful voyage across tho unknown ocean with no relaxation whatever except prayer. Professor .Inoger. referring to tho pro nounced habits of industry born in the boo and frequently alluded to in school-books, says: "It is impossible for any reflecting person to look at a beehive in full opera tion without being astonished at the activ ity and surprising industry of its inhab itants. Wo seo crowds constantly arriving from tho woods, meadows, fields and gar dens. laden with provisions and materials for tuture use, while others are continually flying oil on similar collecting expeditions. Homo are carrying out tho dead, others are removing dirt and offal, while others are giving battle tc unv strung- rs who may dare to intrude. Suddenly a cloud appears and the bees hurry home, thronging the entrunco by thousands until all are gradu ally recoivod within tho incloure. In tho interior of tho hive we see with what skill thoy work their combs and deposit tho honey, and when their labor is over lor tho day they rest In chains suspended from the coiling of their habitation, ono bee cling ing by its Tote feet to tho hind feet of tho ono übove it until it seoms impossible that tho upper ono can be strong enough to sup port the woiglit of so many hundreds." Tho queen, during tho propagating sea son. lays us high as two thousand eggs in a NYE lIEGINS TO GET RESTLESS. day, and I have given much thought to tho grafting of tho queen bee upon tho Plymouth dock htm, with a view to hotter egg facili ties, but so far to meet with little success. My experiments have boon somewhat de layed by tho loss of time in taking the swell ing out of myself utter ea h perusal oftho bee character in his or her home life. Tho • pieon bee lives much longer than any other class of inhabitants, ami hangs on to tho throne, as tho historian .Motley says, like a pup to a root. Hho has a stinger, but does not use it on boys. She uses it simply for tlio purpose of fighting other queens. 'J he anciunts wore awaro of the existence of a governing bee in oaeh hive, but they thought it was a king. But a scientist with keen insight and massive brains one day snw the monarch come off the nest and leave 2.124 warm eggs. Thon it was settled in his mind that it could not bo a king, for he was a deep, dcop man. His name was Mwumordumm and ho made this discovery 2*HJ years ago last wook. Aristotlo and Vi - gil oluimod in several articles, signed Veri tas and Taxpayer, respectively, that tho queen or king, as thoy called it then, did [ not lay at all. but secured some kind of pollen or other material from flowers, which produced the maggots from which the bee was hatched. A writor on the boo says that tho best way to acertain tho locution of tho queen is to divide tho swarm, after which it wili be noticed that the ono hiving tho queen will become very restless Indeed. I tried this myself and noticed that they wore rostloss. They ulso communicated their lestlessness to mo. All of us got restless. H warn ordain m tied tho quo n by means of a long hair to a high polo in order to ascertain whether tho swarm would follow, iu ten minutos lie had tho whole oolony on top of the polo. The drones are tho male bees of the hive. Phov do no work oxcopt to act in u parental THE BEES ARE SWARMING. capacity and vote. Thoy have no stinger, but in its place they have a good appetito and a baritone voice. Thoy are destroyed by the workers soon after the honey sea son and the widows have it all their own way. The drone leads a quiot and rather sunny life, lasting about sixteen weeks, after which ho is put to death by the fe uiulos of tho hive by the Mnybrick method. About nine-tenths of the hive are work ers or fcmnlos. say twelve to fifteen thou sand. They are the busy boo referred to iu the books. They get up early in tho morn ing, oat a hasty meal and go out looking for honey, i'hoy fly with groat force and straight as a bullet. Horn times thoy try to go through a man on their way to tho hive, but onlv got part way. A boe likos to liavo a tender young uiau with linen trousers sit down on it. From tho time the egg Is deposited until a perfect bee is turnod out requires about three weeks. A queen gets her growth tu sixteen days and begins to roign. Moths get into tho beehives frequently during tho winter season and destroy tho insects. For this leason bees should be packed in snuff or fine-cut tobacco in the full. This nauseates tho moth and discour ages him. Groat care shoul l bo taken not to let the bees out too early in the spring. A good writer says that frozen fruit will still remain on tho tecs in the spring; while it contains a ceitain amount of sweot.it is liable to ferment and cause widespread colic in tho litvo. followed by cholera in fantum and coma. T.mn.TUS says that nothing is more pltltui than the pieturo of fifteen or sixteen thou sand eollieky bees suddenly called forth in the dead or night, running hithor and thither, looking for hot cloths and Jamaica ginger, after eating too heartily of fro/.on apple juico. Bees swarm about 10 a. ni. or 3 p. m., and enjoy doing so on Sunday if possible. Se lecting a hot Habbatli and wuiting patiently until the farmer has shaved ono side of his fuco and lathered tho other, tho boeu de cide that they will swarm. Tho farmer's wife notices it while she is in tho garden get ting a sprig of caraway to take to meeting. She calls Henry and tells him tho bees are swarming. Ho starts out with a now hive. §eb3 WHEN THE BEES HAVE CEASED TO SWARM. und looking up In the air ho fulls ovor a croquet sot and injures himself. His wife says: "Henry, you ought to put on that mosqulto-bar arrangement I mude for von tho other day. They nro real cross ihls morning, and they will certainly sting you ir you don't" "Git out with your pesky nonsense," he straightwuy doth reply. "I never put | nawthing on mo before and I won't do it | "But, Henry, they are so feverish to-day, and you have got your other clothes on, so thoy won't know you. Bo try it this time." So ho wraps up his head in a green mos quito not und puts on a pair of cowhide mittens. The bees alight on a tall olm tree, und ho gots a ladder up there against it. Then he slowly ascends tho tree with a bee hive under his arm. Just before lie put on tho mosquito net ho look a large chew of tobacco. Ho now wishes that he had not. People begin to go by on their way to meet ing. and sec him up in the tree with a large green head on him and hot leather mittens. They spcuk to liim* but he cannot reply be cause his moui? is full of tobacco. It is very hot iniloe \ The sun pours down through the hot wes und the breeze is taking much-noci* 1 rest. Ho gets up in the top of the tree and looks like a now style of lizard. labbath-school boys, wearing chip huts 'ueed with gingham, puuse on their way to Mio house of worship and watch him. Ho i mches out to Booop in a handful of tho bro\ u tuzzy insects, but the leather mlttslsmell ttrungely to them. They do not recognize th.i proprietor by his paws and his odor. Thre .or four boes fall down inside those mittens. \nd. feeling that thoy must defend thomsolv. y made a hot highway across the back of is hand. Thon Henry yells and drops th hive on the Bible class. home beos g*. under his green voil and his hair. and. "hiding that thoy cannot got out, thoy sink .n him with their little heated hypodermics, and ho says things which bring tho blush to tho features of his sad wilo. For days afterward they sit opposlto each othor at tho table and do not say anything. Ho looks at her savagely with one eye, the othor being closed by its creditors. It is three days before he will even ask lior to pass the butter, he is so mad. Bees aro very Industrious, but fool them selves by accumulating more than they need, forgetting that they will soon die und leave their substance for those who did not earn it. We should learn a lesson from the boe and notrun tho mattor of Industry Into sho ground. We should not strive to acou uulato so much that it will provont our en oyinent during our lifetime and onlv on ich tho idlo after our death. Boos should Vomembor that their shrouds will not hold honey. Tho bee could learn much from man, I think, in this way. Helen Densmore. New York lias many interesting women, ami not the least among them is l)r. Helen Densmore. Helen Dens more used to he Helen Barnard, and under that name there are many news paper men who remember her as a tall, handsome woman, with a shapely head and a profusion of yellow hair, who sat for years the only woman in .the re porters' gallery of tho House of Rep resentatives, and taking notes and writing letters as if a man—and a clever man—were knocking off the sentences. Helen Barnard was a figure in the political and journalistic circles of Washington. Lamar. Garfield, Butler and .J ere Black held many an animated discussion with her. When a mission was organized to look into the treatment of emigrants in the steerage crossing the Atlantic Butler went to President Grant and had Mrs. Parnard appointed on it at the same salary received by the men The gen tlemen on that commission had a fine time at tho Vienna Exposition, but saw few emigrants. Helen Barnard put on an old dress and sailed from Liverpool to New York in tho steerage of the Inman Line. Unless she found tho privations and abuse of that pas sage considerably less than I did when I investigated the charges made in twelve or fifteen years, it i.s easy to believe that a deal of earnestness went iuto her report, which was pronounced one of the ablest state papers on tile at Washington. From journalism Helen Barnard went into medicine, and the same graceful woman, with firm-sot chin and decisive mouth, is tho physician best known as a suc cessor to Banting in the cure of obes ity. Dr. Densmore eats only one meal and is a personally strict vegetarian.— Mail a ail Exvrexx. IN CENTRAL AFRICA. J WsLjili Tired traveler—"Haveyou Stanley ?" Native landlord—"No, we are just out; but we have some very nieo stowed eluidiants' feet."— Chivaao Lcilaer. We've All lleen Tliere. "What a lino building that is acroan the way." "Yea, yea; but tlie owner built it out of tbi! blood, the aoliea and groans of Ilia fellow men; out of the grief of cry ing children and tlie woe of wailing women." "Ah! A rum seller, of course. Yea, yes 1" "Oh, no; he'a a dentist."— Toronto Grip. THESE ia something nice about bal ance of trade. For instance, a farmer cornea to the city loaded with hay and re turns home loaded with rye. THE world always judges a man (and rightly enough, too,) by his little faults, which he showH a hundred times a day, rather than by his great virtues, which he discloses perhaps but onco in a life time, and to a single person—nay, in proportion as they aro rarer, and lie ii nobler, is shyer of letting their exist ence be known at all. ASNAI.S OF TANGI.ETON. JUNIPER PLACE, July 16, 'B9. >2553" to THE DEER FOLKS: J hev to tell you now of one of the saddest ' /Yrn liappenins that evei befell Tangleton. It time, on a Saturday fouvnoon, an we wim men was a liustlin with our work. We lied the winders open, fur it was gettiu mild, an a little boy cumin by with a a cry of "Fire!" maid us all rush to look out, an then we run into the street to see it better. It was no bon fire, I can tell you! The drug store on the corner, near the canal, was a blazzin like mad, an Shiloli's roof had eaut. Tha was a tryin to get the goods out, but thare w as sech danger of the walls a fallin iu that not a grate deel was saived. Thare was lots of men on hand to carry water from tho canal—fer it was before tha got a hose cart—an the wimmen helped. I gess thare was lots of fiour burned that day, as well at houses, fer it was bakin day, but moss everybody forgot that. Shiloh's family got out only a part of thare house goods, an tha had to be carted away rite off, fer the flames was a Hyin at sech a rait that we was afrade the hull town wood go. It was mity hard to keep the fire from crossin the canal an eaten tip the elevator full of grane jest at the south end of the bridge. But by hard work tha saived it. The wind took the top of a haystack that was burnin an landed it—if I may so speck— rite iu the middle of the canal, an the boys lied a good time tliroin water onto it. There was a large saloon house on the corner above the Sliiloh block, an it took lots of work to keep it frum goin too. An now, good people, I'm tellin you a solid fact when I say that Dame Budget's run up the ladder an was on that roof, a-bossin the men. She was a master hand to boss an to work, too, if she only had the leed in everything. But she wood never play second fiddle ennywliare. Down in frunt of Canny's saloon— the big one —sum wimmen was tliroin water agenst tho sides, an one of em dipped it up with a tin cup! Tho canal bridge was full of folks, lookin on an wishin tha cood help. One woman slipped home an maid a big pot of coffee an braut down fer the folks that lied bin so bizzy. It dun em lots of good too. Uncle Timmy lied bin away sum wliare, but he got down jest as the flaimes was at thare liyest. I wish I lied his picture fer you jest as he look ed then. He hed 011 a ruff cloth coat with a big cape, an his hat hed fell off, showin his shiny bald pait an gray hair. His arms was lifted liy up and movin back an fourth, an he was a shoutin: "It has cum, the rath of God is upon us;" over an over, he shouted it, an ennyboddy that hurd him never forgot. It maid them think of sum old prophet, in Bible days. Our National Hint. kings of Babylon and Persia. The Bo maus adopted it together with other devices, but Maritts made it tlie ensign of the legion, and used tho other do vices for the cohorts. France, under the empire, had the eagle for its na tional device. The two-lieaded eagle, as a device, w as first used by Constan tino tho Great, and signifies a double empire. There is a superstition, very ancient, that every ten years tho eagle soars into a "fiery region" aud plunges thence into the sea, where, molting its feathers, it acquires new life. The eagle is the supporter of the lectern in churches, because that bird is the natural enemy of the serpent, and it is also emblematic of St. John tlio Evangelist, because, like the eagle, he looked 011 "the HUU of glory." The idea has always been held that the eagle alono of all the animal world lias eyes which can withsand the full blaze of the sun at midday. The term* golden eagle and spread eagle are com memorative of the crusades; they were the devices of the emperors ol the East. In the mythology of Scan dinavia there is a fable of a wonderful ash tree which drops honey. 111 the branches sit an eagle, a squirrel and four stags. At the root Hes the ser pent Nihthoggr, gnawing it, while the squirrel runs up and down tho tree trying to sow strife between the eagle and the serpent. Jay Cooke Rich Again. Among the pushing throng of Broad way to-day was an old gentleman clad more in the garb of a countryman than that of a great financier. His clothes were plain, and his white slouch hat, with its broad brim, gave him the ap pearance of a well-to-do farmer. The hair and beard of Jay Cooke are now snow white, but ho still moves along as if contented with life. No one familiar with his every-day appearance would think he was the famous banker—tho man who lias handled more millions than any other privato individual in America, failed for more money than any other, and finally has grown rich again after he had grown old. While he is by 110 means as familiar a figure as lie used to be, and does not mingle in the uncertainty of "the street," as of yore, he is more frequently seen among the bustle of business men than almost any man of his age. Jav Cooke has had a singular career. When the war broke out he lived out along Lake Erie, at Sandusky, and Salmon P. Chase, while Secretary of the Treasury, first gave him a big start in life, which he followed to dis aster, and then built anew from noth ing. Mr. Cooke never forgot or ne glected his home in Ohio, and one of his charities is a beautiful home on au inland in Lake Erie, a few miles from Sandusky, which he bought and named "Gibraltar." He had it laid out in wild, romantic walks, and built a com modious stone castle upon it. He pro- Tided the house with every imaginable comtort, ana put into it a competent housekeeper. To this retreat he would invite each summer Ministers of the gospel of different denominations, who could illy afford to take a summer vacation. Mr. Cooke lives with his son-in-law now, Mr. Barney, who does business near the famous old banking-house on Third street, in Philadelphia, over which Mr. Cooke once presided, and where the Northern Pacific Bailroad was projected. In many respects Jay Cooke will go down to history as one of the remarkable men of our timo. In a little church out at Frankfort, near Philadelphia, he has a son preaching to a congregation who can hardly afford to pay him salary enough to liquidate his horse hire. So the curious turns of life are again illustrated in Mr. Cooke's career and in that of the fam ily he has raised. Too Slow. The first electric telegraph was put in operation between Baltimore and Washington, in 1845, Congress having appropriated eight thousand dollars to keep it running for one year, as an ex periment. Of the many amusing inci dents of those early days, one of the best is the following, which used to be related by Professor Morse himself: A pretty little girl tripped into the Washington office, and after a great deal of hesitation and coloring, asked how long it would take to send to Bal timore. Mr. Morse looked at the pretty ques tioner with much interest as he an swered : "One second." "Oh, how delightful!" exclaimed the girl, her eyes glistening with rapture, j "One second only! Here, send this' even quicker if you can;" and Mr. Morse found in his band a neatly folded, gilt-edged note, the very per fume and shape of which told a volume of love. "I cannot send this uote, H said Mr. Morse; "it is impossible." "Oh, do, do!" implored the distracted girl. "1 have had a quarrel with Will iam, and I shall die if he doesn't know in a second that I forgive him- -I know I shall." As Mr. Morse still objected to send ing the note, the girl asked: "Will you send me on?" "Perhaps it would take your breath away to travel forty miles an hour," said a clerk, trying not to smile. "Oh, no, it won't—no, it won't, if it carries me to William." "You could go by train to morrow." "But the cars are so slow." Mr. Morse now comprehended the girl's mistake, and attempted to ex plain the process of carrying words along the wires. The girl listened for a few moments, then rolled her burning note into a ball and thrust it into her pocket. "It's too slow, too slow, and my heart twill break before William knows I for give him; and you are a cruel man, Mr. Morse, that you won't let me travel by the telegraph to see William." "I am very sorry." The girl left the office in tears. How They Do It in Kentucky. I had been asleep in my seat in tho j passenger coach as the train was roll-l ing through Kentucky, and was aroused by a couple taking the seat in front of me. I did not raise my head, but made out that ho was a young fellow of 22, or thereabouts, aud she was a young girl of 18 or 20. 'Beckon he's asleep?" queried the girl, referring to me. "I'm shore of it," ho replied, aft or taking a look at the back of my head. There was an interval of silence, cut on the bias and warranted fast color, aI1 ? the young man queried: "Glad ye come, Mary?" "Sorter, Bill." "We's fiiends, hain't wo?" "Shore." "I never did keer fur no other gal." "Shoo! Now you is funning mo." 4 Shore as 1 live, Mary. I wouldn't marry 110 girl in our hull section, no how." "Honest?" " True as cucumbers. Pap likes ye,l Mary." 1 J "Glad on't." "And mam likes ye." "Glad on't." "And pap was a saying to me that il I got mai'd I could bring my wife light home." "Your pap is good." "But I can't git mar'd, Mary." 'Deed, but why not?" "'Cause nobody loves me." 4 Shoo! Beckon somebody does." No. they don't. If they did they'd show it." I hero was another interval of silence, bordered with forget-me-nots and orna mented with orange blossoms, and dur-i ing this minute I think ho sei/.od her unresisting baud. [ think she was! ready to be seized. He probably j squeezed it as be said: * So you reckon somebody does ?" "Yep." J 1 hen why don't they say so?" "Waitin', luebbe." fur what?" "To be axed to say so." He was trembling with excitement, and he could not coutiol his voice as he said: It they loved mo they'd squeeze my hand, wouldn't they V" "Beckon they would." (Squeeze—zip— gasp. Hello Cen tral \) And—and, Mary, if they'd marry me they'd squeoze agin, wouldn't they ?" "Sure they would." (Squeeze -whoop—call up the par son !) Ihon lie leaned over and kissed her, and Cupid danced u hornpipe up and down the aisle. AT THE PICNIC. MB ]>auts were light, tho pie was soft, They met beneath tho trees ; He thought to rest his weary frame, Bo straightened out at case. Not one of all that picnic crowd ' Who saw him rise again But thought a murder tjiul been done On the spot where lie had *laiu. LITTLE Tommy—Can I eat anothei piece of pie? Mamma (who is KOIIIO thing of a puriHt)—l euppo.se you can. Tommy (seeing tho point) Well] unty I? Mamma—No, dear, you may not. Tommy—Darn grammar, anyl way. A GARRULOUS fop, who had annoyed 1 by his frivolous remarks his partner in the hall-room, among other empty, tilings, asked whether "sho had ever had her ears pierced 1" "No," was the reply, "but I have often had them bored P Tis hard to mesmerize ourselves, to whip our own top; but through sympa thy we are capable of energy and ear durance. Concert (ires people to a con tain fury of performance they can rarely reach alone.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers