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.