AH, ME! OH, ME f
A maiden w t and fair,
With wealth ■ f golden hair,
All. 1110!
And OVIM shining bright,
Lik -.tarn ut darkest night,
Ah, me! (
Ono HO divinely fair
Should know no want nor care;
i see in lior dear eves
An angel in disguiso.
Ah, mo!
But alio jiltod mo,
Oh. mo!
She jilted mo,
Ah, me!
What foolish words I said,
Ah. me!
llor hair, I know, was red;
All, mo!
And eyes so dull and cold,
Ho wrinkled, faded, old;
Ah. mo!
Her lot should bo to rub
And wash and swoop and scrub;
1 MOO, with my own eyes,
A dovil in disguise.
Ah. me I
For she's jilted me,
You sue;
She's jilted mo.
Ah. me!
—American Commercial Traveller.
HOW THE KNOT WASHED
BY AD 11. GIBSON.
OLD Hiram Jordan, a print- I
itive sample of tlie rough,
outspoken frontiersman,
\ was a Justice of the Peace
ByJ&Ffe 1y on i ' ,e H* ver * u Kan-
Has, ill the days prior to the
' sanguinary struggle that
H vilfl marks such a heart-touch
epoch in the history of
our country.
This old Justice was fro
quently called upon to tic
the nuptial knot for some very peculiai
backwoods couples.
One afternoon Hiram was sitting in
the door of his dingy, time-blistereo
cabin, perched upon a bluff overlook
ing the blue waters of the Kaw. The
old fellow was contentedly smoking
away at an old clay pipe,strongly enough
impregnated with "long green" tc
scare off a hungry buzzard from a tan
yard.
The old Justice was bare-footed, and
his well-worn. coarse, blue jean*
trousers was rolled pretty well up tc
tln knees, disclosing unlovely, sinewy
ankles. He wascoatless and suspender
less, for it was warm weather, and
Hiram wore neither in the siunmei
time. His shirt was of the thinnei
quality of bed-ticking stuff, and
made after some nondescript style
unknown east of the Missouri
]liver. lie was bare-headed, and the
recreant breezes that blew up the Kaw
Valley milled the thin, long locks ol
reddish hair on liis fat, sleek pate and
played hide and seek among the sandy
bristles of his stumpy beard.
Old Hiram was a bachelor, and save
the old hound stretched in profound
slumber at his feet, ho had no com
panion. Jiut he was well used to his
isolation from society, and if lie ever
yeared for a companion of the opposite
sex, he kept his wish jealously locked
in his own heart. Perhaps the cere
monies that lie performed for his Kaw
Valley neighbors were sufficient for
him, and diverted his thoughts from
himself in a state of conuubialisin. It
is proverbial of a carpenter that he
never attends to his own house, and it
may be that a man whose business it
is to marry others never devotes liis
thoughts to his own marriage. But be
that as it may, old Hiram was a single
man on the shady side of fifty.
The Justice puffed away at. his
short-stemmed pipe, and gazed with
evident complacence down the pic
turesque valley through which the
Kaw wound its placid way. Suddenly
his contemplation of Nature's superb
painting before him is disturbed.
An odd-looking young couple on
horseback have ridden up the bluff
ami approached the cabin of the Jus
tice. The girl bestrode a bob-tailed
white mule, with one ear having a
triangular slit in it; for a saddle, she
sat on a piece of faded rag carpet,
strapped loosely round the animal's
body, to allow the insertion of one foot
to support herself, while the other she
employed to goad the beast along by
applying sundry spirited kicks with
the heel of a No. 7 cowhide shoe. She
was about nineteen years old, large
and long. She wore a green calico
dress, an apron of coarse, striped
shirting, and a pink sun-bonnet that
might have belonged to a baby sister,
so small it was for her. The bonnet
only half concealed the big nose and
coarse features, strewn with freckles of
every geometric pattern known to
science,, and many to ho yet hoard
of. Her faded bronze hair strag
gled from under the cape of her
bonnet, and dangled far down her
stooped shoulders, a prey to the rude
zephyrs that swept up the perfume
laden valley. About a vard of durk-
LL
OLD 111 HAM AND HIS 80L1TAUY COM
PANION.
blue ribbon, of sash width, was awk
wardly knotted around her thin neck,
and was fastened to her emerald gown
in front l>y a red ami blue glass brooch
as large as a silver dollar. Of all other
ornaments her odd costume was guilt
less. She was gloveless, and her hands
were almost as largo and coarse as
those of the Justice.
The companion of this very attrac
tive maiden was a littly, dumpv man
of about thirty. He was black-eyed,
hair like a full-grown aurora borealis,
and his little fat jaws were clothed
with a stubby beard that pointed ob
durately in every known direction of
the compass. Ho wore an autiipiated
straw hat, yellow with age and woe
fully fly-specked. His person was clad
in a coarse brown home-spun, that
looked as if it had done service as wear
ing apparel for a. year at least. Ho
rode a miserable raw-boned Texas
pony, its sides one mass of disfiguring
brands, the symbols of former and
various ownerships.
"Howdy!" was Hiram's greeting.
"Howdy!" returned the dumpy speic
pieu of manhood on the sad-eyed 1
"broncUo. "ise you'uns trier oie muu
what hitches fellers ter thar gals ?"
Old Hiram laughed jovially. The
girl twitched nervously. The dumpy
man grinned broadly.
"I be titer man ye'r lookin' fur,
stranger," old Hiram replied, rising;
"I reckon I be, ef it's liitchin' ter run
in double harness fur ther rest o' yer
natural lives that you'uns be after.' I
The dumpy fellow stole a sheepish
l(V>k at the lady iu green on the bob- j
tailed mule, and said :
"Thet's hit, 'Squire. We'uns hev j
jist swum ther Kaw ter git you'uns ter i
do ther liitchin'."
The old hound's slumber was broken
bv the arrival of the candidates for the
nuptial honors. He did not even I
growl at tliem. Like liis master, such
episodes failed to stir the depths of his
surprise or resentment. He had long
been accustomed to accepting such ar
rivals as a matter of course. He now
stretched himself, and stepped forth ;
with all the canine dignity which the !
occasion seemed to warrant, ami can- !
tiouslv smclled of horses and riders. j
This act of courtesy on his part accom
plished. he walked back to the door of
the cabin, stationed himself by the
Justice's side, and intelligently seemed
to await the consummation of the holy
rites.
The Justice eyed for a minute the
wet sides of the animals, which fully
corroborated the fellow's assertion that
they had swum the Kaw to get there.
"Waal, light, then," he commanded
them, pleasantly, "an' tote yer critters
ter yon cottonwoods, an' mosey inter
ther cabin."
Then, leaving them to obey his di
rections, old Hiram entered his house
and made all necessary arrangements
for his guests from across the Kaw.
Finally they were all seated in the
cabin, and the old Justice proceeded to
make himself acquainted with the
would-be groom.
"Wliar do you'uns hold fo'th ercrose
ther Kaw, stranger?" old Hiram asked*
U I PRONOUNCE YOU-UNS MAN AND WOMAN"
"I 'low you'uns hev hearn tell o'
Slacker's P'int ?"
"Oh, yes; used ter go ter see a wid
der down thar." And the Justioe
laughed at the recollection thus
awakened. He was bent on making
himself facetious before his guests,
j "Thet war six year ago an' better."
"I 'low now, ef hit war n't Sally
Jane Helamacky," said the girl, with a
coarse giggle.
"It war Sally Jane Helamacky," an
swered the Justice, smiling. "So yer
live on ther P'int, stranger V" lie asked,
turning again to the man.
"Waal, dad, he lives thar, an' I live
thar with 'im," the dumpy specimen
replied.
"What mouglit yer name be?"
"Sid Johnsing."
"Bv gum! I 'low you'uns be no 'la
tion to ole Murray Johnsing, as used
to run a still down in ole Kaintuck ?
Pow'ful man, all-fired, low-down, or
nery cuss ole Murray was," said the
Justice, his characteristic outspoken
ness (willing to the surface.
"I be ole Murray's oldest boy,
'Squire," said the fellow, with a broad
grin, while a harsh giggle came from
beneath the tiny pink sunbonnet.
"Ibeblowed! I wouldn't a-thought
it! Wa-al, look a-hero, young gal; sech
bein' the case, as this here Sid you he
thinkin' o' liitchin' up ter be a chip
offen ther ole block, ve'd better mount
ver bobtail critter an'ride home un
hitched furever, nur marry alongside i
sech a din ned fammerly as ole Murray !
Jolinsing's."
"Wot be yer name, gal?" old Hiram
now asked, turning to the green-clad
creature before him.
"My name Mirandy Ann Smith,
an' I 'low I knows wot's wot erbout Siil
Johnsing. He's a heap ther best man
on the P'int." And she tossed her head
rather indignantly.
"Yer ho no kin, I 'low, ter ole Lute
Smith, wot was so miserable low-down
as ter steal Widder Grats' hog, over
t'other side o' Turtle Bottom?"
"Waal, now, 'Squire, 1 jest 'low I be.
I lie his darter by his third wife." And
she snapped her palo eyes upon him
most triumphantly.
"Waal, 1 be plumb dog-gone!" ex
claimed the Justice. "But it's a
mighty blessed freak o'fate fur you'uns
ter want ter hitch, fur it'd bo a plumb
shame fur tor spile two fammerlies
l with sech as you'uns. Hop yer up,
I Sid an' Mirandy Ann, an' les have ther
j thing over. I imiii't goin' ter send yer
back ter thor P'int onhuppy."
The awkward but strangely well
| mated couple (according to old Hi
| ram's belief) stood up as bidden, and the
I questions were given and answered,
after which the Justice closed with his
usual characteristic statement:
"In ther name o' ther Lo'd A'mighty,
I purnounce vou'nns man an' woman."
Accounted For.
Husband—l saw quite an unusual
sight on the train to-night, my dear.
The brakeman actually assisted a
woman to carry out her bundles when
the train stopped.
Wife—How nice of him! And was
it an old lady?
Husband—Oh, no; it was a verv
pretty gijJ.
A Little Caution*
Jakey—l vas goin' to tell you a
slioke, fadder. Dor vas
Mr. Orpenheimer (excitedly)— Don't
you tell no sliokes here, Jakey. Der
vas two gustomers in der store) and if
dey laugh de new suits von't last, till
dey get to der door.— Omaha Kr,j>ubli
can.
His First Day at the Beach.
"O, Uncle George!" cried tender
hearted little 110110, liis eyes tilling
with tears, "let us give some money to
that poor woman over there on the
sand; see, she has hardly any clothes
on!"
"Sure enough," said Mr. George;
"why in thunder didn't you point lier
out before ?"— Life.
POVERTY needs much, wlulo avarice
'will take everything within reach*
TRENCH SCULPTURE.
ANTON MKHCIK, THE CELEBRATED ,
FItENCII AKTJST.
Tilt. Maxtor at Work in VIi H Stmllo-Im- |
predion H J'roilncoil on Young Artists—A !
Iteviow of tho Works That lluve Given
tho Sculptor His Reputation.
Lorado Talt, tho well-known artist and
art critic, contributes to tho Chicago inter
Ocean un entertaining account of a visit to
ANTON MBBGIB. it WBB "ii account
of my obstructed Mow oi language that I
neglected to call tho sculptor's attention to
j th resemblance between my little roliel
and Vedd- r's Cumintn Sibyl, which I trust
ed ho had nevor seon. My companion like
wise may have luid certain mental rosorva
i Rons—historic data as to tho "inspiration" ;
or his composition—which wero not vouch- j
safed.
I We had promised ourselves never to do it
I n'*ain. i only we could m inago to interest
him that time and gain his consent to our
periodical incursions. It was accomplish
ed. a cor Jul invitation given us not only to
| bring all of our sketches for criticism, but
also to come in and see him at work when
we would. Wo modestly suggested that we
; thought tho present moment a favorablo
occasion for accenting tin? latter invitation,
and wero straightway ushered into tho
' great studio.
j We grow accustomed to it afterward, but
(he llrst imp: <-s-i
--! i
Hero and there A J.ADV'H TOMB.
we noticed with ploasuro certain familiar
"i n l --; tii" originul plaster model of the
I "Young David," leprouuctions of the "Gloria
| Victis," "Quand Meino," etc. It chanced
| that there was no sculptural work of im
j portanoe under way at tho time, M. .Mercie
explaining with an apologetic smile that ho
, had fits of "painting fever" which ho could
not resist. II" tnen culled our attention to
tho largo canvas upon which he was on
! gaged; a sinclo nude figure, beautifully
I composed, but which I boliovo was never
finished. Tho Venus now in tho Luxunt
bourg. a painting which won him high hon
ors at tho following ,Salon, proves that tho
"painting fever" was not with him the fro
| queut fruitless yearning of talented men to
I do something that they can not do.
1 Of a far less elevated type and motive
j than his sculpture, this painting shows a
j perfection of technical ability wonderful in
| ihe work of a novice, its flesh Is so real
i that a usually consoi vatlve critic forthwith
' dubbed tho amateur painter tho "Modern
! C'orreggio."
i M. Mercie has had littlo leisure to
| "amuse" himself with the brush since that
time.
| Leaving it to Mr. Browncll to discuss tho
GBNIB DBS ABTB.
ditTerences botwoon "sculptural pootry" and
"sculptural rhetoric," and the burning ques
tiou as to whether Morale's sculpture pos
sesses too much or too little "stylo," 1
would wish to pass rapidly in review tlio
most famous of M. Morale's works. Al
though but a comparatively young man
(born in Toulouse iu 1845), this warm
blooded Southerner has already produced
a long series of chef-d'ceu vies. Like Paul
Dubois, ho is as remarkable for making no j
mistakes as ho is for the high excellence of
individual works. Ho possesses that un
failing instinct for the right thing, coupled
j with thorough seionce and patient execu
tion. whidli assures success of every work
from its first conception. Ills career has
j been one series of triumphs.
1 Beginning with the "Young ])*wid." his
11on YOUNG DAVID.
I know of no more Ilerily impetuous woik
of modern sculpture than M. Morale's
"Genie des Arts." a colossal rolief forming
the most conspicuous decoration on the
south facade oi the Tuileries, over the gate
way to the Place du Carrousel. The brazen
horse seems to have scarcely lost the iur
nuce glow, and still breathes flame from his
feverish nostrils. The rider lg strong, but
airily polsod, and bockonn to the busy
world. Would that our Western world
might shut out onee In a while the din of
traffic, and listen if but for a moment to
the spirit of beauty! One would meet then
fewer intellectual moles and hats, fowor
devotees of the muck-rake; one-sided crea
tions, stiuggllng all their yoars to nequiro
tlio means for gratifying tastes, only to dis
cover In the end that the starved tastes
exist no longer.
The sweet fomulo flguro In this composi
tion. which seems with a touch to curb the
restless courser, is said to have been mod
eled from the artist's lalr-faco 1 wife, the
daughter of a wealthy Parisian banker.
Theodore Child tells us that at tho time
M. Mercio was called upon for tho tomb of
Michelet, ho had never read a word of that
groan author. Ho procured one of his
works, and "needed only to read a single
chapter in order to comprehend Michelet
thoroughly and to conceive a perfect monu-
Whother or not this Illustration of quick
artistic instinct and sympathetic grasp be
true, it Is cerlain that the work fa one of
tho most original and satisfying ornaments
of Pore La Chaiso. Tho figure of the genial
historian Is represented as recumbent, the
eyes closed in tho last sleep, while upon
tho mouth still rests the memory of a klnd
iv smile. Tfcft Upper portion of thlg great!
e oueupieu ova majestic no&tingj!
form—the Hitist's symbolic representation
of Truth. Bhe is enveloped in the folds of
an airy mantle, the peculiar treatment of
which is characteristic of M. Mercie. With
her uplifted right hand she points to the in
scription, "J/histoire est une resurrection,"
the words of him who sleeps below.
In 1884, M. Mercie was hard at work on
his portrait group of Louis PhiJippo and
wife, dostined for their tomb. This wo saw
develop from day to day: first the baro rods
and wires, then the outlines of the erect
bourgeois King, and the kneeling figure of
his devoted spouse. Behind tlio two sat an
angel of indeed most angelic mien, even in
the Indistinct obauohe. The change from
week to week was astonishing, and though
the master's hands could not possibly do so,
much alone, his mind was guiding ovory
stroko. Sometimes he would descend, and
with an utmost imperceptible gesture guide
the efforts of an assistant upon the high
scaffold: a nod or a move of the linger
would indicate where the clay was to be
added or scraped off: an eye-brow to be
lowered, or an ear to be moved forward.
Meanwhile twoAinericau boys looked on in
open-mouthed admiration, and wondorod
it they would ever have a chanco to do such
big work. They are still wondering.
In the salon of 'HS. M. Mercie exhibited,
what seems to me his most beautiful work,
this sleeping female figure which ho calls
"Le Souvenir," chiseled from an immense
block of bluish marble.
Upon a rocent visit to Paris I found my
old friend fairly overwhelmed with impor
tant orders. Among other things under
way. nearly filling the two large studies
which ho now requires, there was the be
ginning in clay of a monument to Baudry,
the painter; colored models for the decora
tion of the now Sarbonne; a tomb for Con
stantinople, etc. It was with a fooling of
real pleasure that I congratulated him on
the award oi two important works by our
nation—the Robert Loe monumont, of Rich
mond. and the Laiavetto lor the city of
Washington. I was glad for hira; was par
ticularly glad Tor Amorica's sake.
Hearing Another's Sin.
My heroine, whom we will call Mar
garet, was a slim, fair girl of 17, sliy
and retiring to excess. She lived with
a voting married couple, Mr. and Mrs.
Field, and was treated by them as one
of the family.
One evening Mrs. Field was out
driving with a friend, and as they wero
passing a Mrs. Smith's house, a slan
derous report that was current iu tho
neighborhood concerning this Mrs,
Smith came into Mrs. Field's mind,
and she carelessly repeated it to her
friend in the ordinary conversational
tono. Mrs. Smith happened to be out
in her garden, and owing to the late
ness of the hour, and to the shrubbery,
she was not seen by the ladies in the
carriage. She overheard a greater
part of what they were saying. Foiling
with anger, site sent word early tin?
next morning to Air. Field that his
wife had spread an evil story about
her, and that she intended to have the
matter taken to court.
The llrst thing Margaret heard on
coming from her room that morning
was the bitter sobbing of Airs. Field.
She inquired the cause, and was over
whelmed to learn the direful effects
that would follow if Airs." Smith per
sisted in her determination to take the
affair to court, for Air. Field was al
ready heavily in debt, having gone into
an extensive business, and if lie were
forced to go to law about this difficulty
his prospects might be ruined.
Then this brave little girl came to
the rescue. As it was late in the even
ing she said Mrs. Smith had probably
only recognized the horse and carriage
and not Airs. Field, and that she, Alar
garet, would bear the burden, and say
it was site who had uttered tho slander.
If the matter should then be carried to
the court there was no one in the world
but herself to suffer, and, although the
thought of staining her fair reputation
was very bitter, she was determined to
take the blame upon herself sooner
than see her friends suffer so greatly.
At first, they would not hear of it,
but she finally succeeded in having her
own way, and then donning a hat,
started at once for Airs. Smith's home.
She explained to that lady that she
and not Airs. Field was the one to bear
the blame, hut that she was very sorry,
and that the report should go no fur
ther, as far as lay in her power to pre
vent it, and at last begged the lady to
forgive and to forget. And Airs. Smith
did so, finding it was only Arargaret,
instead of Mrs. Field, for whom she
had always entertained a violent dis
like. — rhiladeljihiu Press.
How He Conceals Himself.
Those who have seen animals only in
a menagerie can have little idea how
differently they appear in their native
forests. The giraffe, for example,
eludes observation to a degree almost
incredible, us is shown by the follow
ing :
\\ hen wo come to the giraffe, wo
cannot at first understand that the size,
height, and bold coloring that, make it
HO conspicuous on open ground should
become its most effectual means of
concealment when among trees. The
animal feeds mostly upon the leaves of
a species of acacia called by the
Boers "kameeldorn," or giraffe-thorn
—stretching its long neck among tho
branches, and with its lithe, slender
tongue? plucking the pendent leaves
from the twigs.
When it is standing among the
acacias, it can with difficulty he distin
guished from them, its long slender
legs resembling the trunk, and tho
head and neck being lost among the
branches; while the spots, which are
so conspicuous in the open country,
harmonize so faithfully with the broken
patches of light and shade thrown by
the leaves, that even the huge body is
indistinguishable at a little distance.
Rot eveu tlie native hunters, with their
highly trained vision, can decide
whether a little clump of three or four
acacias be tenanted by the giraffe or
whether it bo empty. Even a tele
scope or a field-glass will fail to ascer
tain the presence of the giraffe.
The anaconda, also, can lie unseen
in the forest, the beautiful diamond
shaped patterns of the body resembling
the lichens, mosses, and fieckings of
light and shade upon the tree-trunks.
So close is the resemblance that a man
has been known to seat himself upon
the body of a gorged and sleeping ana
conda, mistaking it for the object which
it simulated. Similarly, the spotted
jaguar of the New World, and the
leopard in the Old World, are practi
cally invisible among the branches of
trees, and depend on this fact for their
ability to capture the wary and active
monkeys.
Prohibition Item.
"So this is a prohibition town?" said
a drummer to tho landlord ola small
local option town in Texas.
"YOH; we don't allow any liquor to
bo sold if we can possibly prevent; but,
sir, there are men in this town so ut
terly devoid of honor and principle that,
for twenty cents they will peddle out
this liquid damnation. What do you
think of such an unprincipled scoun
drel V"
"It strikes me it- is a mere matter of
business. Where can I find that un
principled scoundrel ?"
"I am tho man. Follow mo!"
When the drummer returned his
I mustache was moist, and he was out
a quarter.
PREHISTORIC IRRIGATORS.
Dams and Ditches in Arizona Built
Thousands of Years Ago.
As the question of irrigation, ancient
and modern, is now bring discussed by
the press of the entire West, the follow
ing facts obtained from E. L. Wetmore
of this citv will be appropriate :
The early pioneers of Arizona mention
the outlines and ruins of an ancient
pueblo, known traditionally us Pueblo
Verjo, that had crumbled to its founda
tion, four miles north-west of Tucson,
within tho fork of the Santa Cruz and
Bil ito rivers. Ancient pottery and
broken ollas were scattered around
promiscuously. No record has been
handed down to posterity as to what l
manner of people they might have been
who built and lived in the city. Other
ruins have been discovered on tho Santa
Cruz and Ilillito rivers at the point of
tho Santa Catalina mountains ; also at
the point of the Tucson mountains.
Hieroglyphics on the rocks of these
mountains, if translated, might inform
us of the history of these people. There
cannot be a doubt that their chief re
sources were agriculture and mining.
Tho ruins of a dam can be traced in the
vicinity of the pueblo, a short distance
west of the narrow-gauge railroad, that
evidently caused tho overflow of nearly
'20,000 acres of laud.
The early pioneers inform us that
when they visited Tucson thirty years
ago the land now cultivated westof Tuc
son, on the Santa Cruz, was a lagune,
covered with rushes and cat tails, and
tho homo of myriads of water fowls.
Dr. J. H. Goodwin, nn old pioneer, took
possession of a quarter section of land
on the Santa Cruz, near where tho rail
road now strikes it, and conceived the
idea of constructing a ditch running in
a southerly direction toward the city, at
a point near the location of this lagune,
and secured permanent water within a
few feet of the surface. He noticed the
evidence of an ancient people in excava
ting for the ditch. Stone hatchets aud
hammers were taken out.
At Fort Lowell, seven miles north
east of Tucson, the ruins of an ancient
people were oxliumed on the south
bank of the Rillito river, tlieir skeletons
lying promiscuously on the ground and
evidences that cooking was under way,
the ollas with charred wood and ashes
underneath, indicating that they had
come to a violent death. During the
spring of 1877, when work was progress
ing on tho Wetmore ditch on tho south
bank of tho Rillito, near .T. H. Han
cock's ranch, in excavating two feet be
low tho surface, cobblestones wero en
countered in the sandy soil and
con tin red down to a point six feet below
the surface, where two skeletons were
found that crumbled to dust when ox
posed to the air. They wero buried in
a sitting posture, aud were only a fow
feot apart.
At this point tho Rillito shows evi
dence of having ran in a westernly di
rection, and can ho traced through the
Hancock, Jones, Samaniego, Huynes
and Wetmore ranches to the vicinity of
Dr. Goodwin's ranch, striking tho baso
of the mesa, and indicating a flow of
water fully forty feot in width and of
uniform grade. What other conclusion
can be drawn than that this was an
ancient ditch that furnished water for
irrigating several acres of land in tho
vicinity of tho old pueblo? Tho land
along this ancient water way is covered
with mes mite and catclaw ; the soil is
of a sandy nature, and water can bo had
from fifteen to thirty below the surface
in an unlimited supply. The water is
pure from tho gravel aiul sands below,
being a part of the old river channel ami
supplied from the watersheds of the
Santa Catalina, Ricon, Whetstone and
Bant Rita mountains.
Along the lino of this ancient ascequa
the farmer of to-day with his plow and
spade turns up the broken olla, relics of
an ancient race who wero tillers of the
soil, and tho present occupants are now
profiting by their example.—[Tucson
(Arizona) Star.
Very Fine Linen.
One of the most delicate exhibits of
long skilled handicraft, at tho present
Frenoli exhibition, is from the linen
looms of Ireland, in the form of damask
napkins out of a set of two dozen doilies,
made for a jubilee gift to Queen Victoria
by a Bellas manufacturer. These
doilies are woven from the fiuest linen
yarn which has ever yet been spun from
flax fibre. The napkin is exhibited in
its unbleached state, and also its
bleached and finished condition. Upon
each is a strikingly faithful delineation
of the factory from which it comes.
The building is photographed, as it
were, in the linen web.
One of these damask doilies, about
sixteen inches square, contains three
thousand and sixty threads of warp and
four thousand and t A olve threads of
woof, and these threads, joined together,
would oxtend a d stance of more than
two miles. Yet the napkin seems to be
the merest figment of gossamer— a fabric
of lightest gauze, a thing one might
blow away wi.h a breath. The draughts
man was engaged for seven months in
tho preparation of tho enlarged design—
about twelve feet square—upon paper.
This plan or map, so to speak, of tho
napkin, was divided by fine machine
rulings into twelve million squares, ea *h
line standing lor one thread of the web.
On tho damask work are represented
forty-four different species of ferns,
birds, butterflies ami flowers. Irish lace,
hand made, at one hundred guineas a
j yard, handkerchiefs at two hundred and
fifty dollars each, and many other sam
ples of exquis to skill and patient toil,
from tho north of Ireland looms, are in
cluded in the display.
In further illustration of this great
industry, t hero is a display of flaxseed,
the flax plant with its blue flower, flax
straw, scutched flax and flax spun into
yarn and wound upon bobbins ready
for weaving. There are also illustra ed
plans of the different processes of mak
ing damask, and the entire exhibit is
veTy appropriately surmounted by ono
of tho most ancient specimens of nn
Irish flax wheel for spinning linen
thread. —[Youth's Companion.
German Crops and Emigration.
According to the recently published
official re; or! of the Royal Prussian S a
tistical Bureau, furnished to the Bfa e
Department by Consul Warner, of Co
logne, the ci O A ~S of 1888, except of
barley, buckwheat and clover, were de
cidedly better tl an those of 1889.
Wittier wheat was thirteen per cent be
low the average, and only po atoes and
ha.v reached the average. The grain
producing Hta'es of Germany are the
Prussian provinces and tl o Kingdom of
Bavaria. These provinces likewise fur
nish the largest con'ingenb of German
emigration to the Uni ed S'a os.
THE Mayors of a good many cities in
various parts of tlie country have al
ready appointed agents to co-operate
with tlio managers of the International
Exposition in New York.
The Human Brain.
The average human brain weighs
forty-nine or tifty ounces in the malo
and about forty-live ounces in the fe
male. Great brain weight is not always
associated with intellectual vigor, as is
shown by the fact that an idiot is known
to have had a brain of over sixty ounces
in weight. But notwithstanding the
evidence of such cases as that of the
idiot referred to, great mental power is
generally associated with a brain weight
exceeding the average. Cuvier's brain
weighed sixty-four ounces ; but Gam
betta's bruin weighed less than the
average woman's brain, which is, of
course, peculiar because of his gieat in
tellectuality. A strange problem is de
veloped by a comparison of the average
weight of the male and female brains
with the minimum weight of each with
in the range of intelligence. The
average weight of the female brain is
about five ounces less than the average
weight of a man's brains. If the weight
of the brain were an infallible gauge of
intellect, the average woman would, so
to speak, have live ounces less intellect
than the average man. But the weight
of brain in a man below which idiocy
exists is about five ounces higher that it
is in a woman. That is what presents
the prob'em. If, say thirty ounces of
brain in a woman saves lier from idiocy,
and thirty-five are requisite in a man,
what becomes of man's average of five
j ounces of brain weight in excess of the
average in woman < The conclusion
seems to he that a smaller quantity of
fem ile brain is essentual to intellec
tuality than of the male brain. This is
equivalent to saying that tlio female
brain is of a superior quality. In con
tradiction of this the fact may be cited
that in comparison with men but few
women of great intellectual vigor have
appeared in the world. If thin held
tine, a woman with a brain of fifty
ounces ought to be equal to a mail with
a brain of fifty-five ounces. —[New York
Dispatch.
How to Induce Sleep.
One of the most effective imlucors to
sleep, said a well-known New York phy
sician, is a warm salt-water bath laken
before retiring. This w ill almost always
put a re.stloss child to slumber if it i.
well, aud if it is well fed alter its bath
Sleeplessness in an adult is moro diffi
cult to contend with. A warm salt bath
may not a .ways act as quickly, but it is
worth trying. If there is any tendency
to cold feet, put a warm bottle to the
feet after bathing, and in many cases a
restful sleep will follow. It is far better
to resort to every subterfuge to induce
sleep before resorting to any sleeping
draught. Sometimes a few crackers or
something else eaten just before retiring
will induce sleep when nothing else will.
For this purpose many people keep a
cracker jar in their rooms. The thin
wafer crackers are excellent for this pur
pose.
For the dry, burning sensation in the
palms of the hands and soles of the feet
which induces sleeplessness, sponge
them in ammonia and water, or vinegai
and water. The continued dwelling on
a certain thought may bo of value. A
frequent remedy of this kind is to
imagine an endless llock of sheep step
ping one by one-over a stile. The con
tinual monotony of the imaginary
movement will soon put a wide-awake
person as'eep. A famous physician put
his sleepless patients to drowsy slumber
by any arrangement by which they list
ened to the constant dropping of water,
drop by drop, 011 metal. If a person is
habitually wakeful at night it is wise to
give up tea and coffee at night, and
drink in their place a bowl of fresh milk
heated quite hot.
Diamonds and Gold.
From recent African ox liangcs it is
gleaned that the diamond trust is not
centred among the dealers in Europe,
but at the diamond fields in South
Africa, where the consolidation of all
the important min s under the title of
the "Do Beers Consolidated Mines"
has had the effect of raising the whole
sale prices of diamonds from twenty
I shillings per carat in 1888 to thirty
| shillings in 1889. As the chairman of
1 the new company has publicly stated, it
now " lias absolute control of the dia
mond industry," and is producing less
and still reoeiving the same returns. At
present the c impany shows a profit of
fifty to sixty per cent, per annum, and
if, as it is very likely, prices will be
forced higher, it will do better still.
This great consolidation or trust was
largely the work of Mr. Rhodes, popular
ly known as the "Diamond King."
The gold mining interests in the
Transval are also prosperous, but honest
and intelligent management is needed
to fay dividends on tlio heavy capital
izations of the companies. The news of
the finding of an immense nugget of
gold at Zontpansberg has be 11 officially
confirmed. It weighed 130 pounds
(troy), and comes from a region of rotten
quartz reefs rich with alluvial gold—in
fact, what is termed a "poor man's
diggings," and great hopes are enter
tained that South Africa may yet benefit
by a "rush" like those 111 tlio palmy
days of Australia and California.—(New
York Herald.
Childron and Stories.
Nothing appeals s > strongly to the im
agination, the sensibilities, the moral
nature of a child as a well-told tale, says
the Philadelphia T mes. They rebel
against what is commonly called
"preaching," bu the greatest rebel of
them all will yield to the soften lig in
j iluences of a tale that carries its lesson
with it. Is not that enough? But the
story does more. It broadens their
views, cultivates the r finer feelings, de
stroys selfishness, teaches them to ap
preciate their relations with others and
planes down the rough places that
would fill their lives with friclii n.
Thus much it does to them morally.
But it is equally helpful to them mental
ly. A young mind must have recreation
as well as a young body. The story
brightens and refreshes it, brushes away
the cobwebs that will gather even at a
tender age, and fits it to return with
new vigor to its more serious work.
More than that it adds to the child's
information by acquainting him or her
with certain phases of life, with manners
and customs that are not taught by
mere history. By all means, then, let
the children read good and clean
stories.
How to Tell a Counterfeit Bill.
Take a United States bill of any de
nomination and hold it up to the light,
and you will see two lines running en
tirely across it lengthwise. Upon ex
amination you will find these to consist
of a silk thread, a red one and a blue
one. Every genuine bill has this mark
of genuiness. Without these marks a
bill mftv be put down as counterfeit no
matter how good the engraving 011 it.
No paper mill dare make that sort of
paper, and that is the government's
only protection on its currency.
G )OD IN
Some of the Exc -10 Uses to which
It Can Be Put.
As a dressing for ladies' shoes glycer
ine renders the leather soft and pliable
without soiling garments which come in
contact.
For excessive prespiration of the feet
one part of alum with two parts of gly
cerine should be rubbed on tlio feet at
night and a light open sock worn. In
the morning the feet should be washed
with tepid water.
For the face, oatmeal made into a
paste with two parts of glycerine and
one of water may be applied at night
under a mask, as a complexion im
prover.
As a supplement to a bath two ounces
of glycerine in two quarts of water will
render the skin fresh and delicate.
For cough*, one or tw > tablespoonfuls
in hot rich cream will frequently afford
almost immediate relief.
For diseased and inflamed eyes use
three parts of golden seal, one part of
powdered burnt alum, one part of witch
hazel aad two parts of glycerine, rubbed
011 at night after first removing any
tartar.
Hot lemonade to "break up a cold" is
an old safe household remedy and it
certainly is of value. Instead of sugar
add a teaspoonful of pure glycerine to
the lemonade. Drink it as hot as you
can and then cover up well. Be careful
when you get into a perspiration. Don't
go thrashing about, kicking of the covers
and undoing the good.
The lips, tongue and gums, when dry
and coated with dry mucous in acute
diseases, should bo washed and kept
moist several times a day with glycerine,
which greatly improves the comfort unci
appearance of the patient. Dilute it {
with an equal quantity of water.
little lomon juice or a few drops of rose 1
water may be added to give perfume.
One of the best preventives of bed
sores is glycerine. The a'.llicted part
should bo washed morning and evening
with tepid water and carefully dabbed
quito dry with a soft towel. If this
procedure be adopted boforo tlio ou
coming of redness or tenderness, tho
soreness is usually prevented.
Glycerine as a surcrieal dressing re
commends itse'f in many ways. Its uso
has been strongly advocated by Dr.
Charles E. S. Fleniming, in a paper
read before the Bath and Bristol branch
of the British Medical Association. Ho
uses it in the form of glycerine and
starch, British pharmacopoeia, with some
antiseptic dissolved in it.
Glycerine and lemon juice taken at
night does much to relieve distressing
cough. It is also useful in dry throats.
Full strength glycerine will tend to in
crease the dryness of tho mouth and
throat by its power of absorbing mois
ture, and for this reason it should be
diluted before being used.
For the sore mouth of infants dissolve
ono ounce of powdered borax in four
ounces of glycerine.
For cold in the head the following is
perhaps one of the most efficacious
remedies : Solution of hydrochlo: at© of
cocaine, 30 drops; glycerine, (i 0 drops.
To which add enough very hot water to
hall fi 1 a handball ana torn; zer. Passing
through the tube will sufficiently modify
the heat and render the application of j
this preparation to the irritated mucous
surf a-es a most soothing and grateful
expedient.
Semmola recommends this formula
for glycerine lemonade : Pure glycerine,
150 parts; citric acid, 0110 part; water
300 parts. About one ounce of this
solution is to be taken in a glass of
water every hour. Thus administered,
even in large quantities, glycerine does
not cause stomachic disturbances.
For a black eye : Paint it with a mix
ture of equal parts of tincture capsici
and gum arabic and some glycerine,—
[San Francisco lleport.
About Honey Bees. "
I have seen, writes G. W. Demaree, j
a single bee clinging to a smoothly ]
dressed board with its front foot, and
supporting a living chain of twenty-fry©
bees, thus supporting twenty-live times
her own weight, for an indefinite time.
There was a time when I was puzzled to
know how the bee could hold on to tho
smooth board and sustain such a weight.
But the magnifying glass reveals a finely
curved claw at the extremity of each of
the front pair of legs, and these enable
the beo to cling to the wood in auy posi
tion, with its back down as well as
otherwise. But how does tho beo man
age to run up a pane of glass or a sheet ;
of polished metal ? llcr sharp claws j
will not serve her in this case. Well, |
nature has provided for that in a won
derful way, I once had a theory to ac
count for this wonderful feat. But
when I commenced to study the anat
omy of the bee under tho magnifying
glass my theory was found to lo wide of
tho mark. The glass shows an infini
tesimal gland in the soles of tho feet,
wh ch secrete a mucilaginous substance
of sufficient tenacity to enable the beo
to cling to the smoothest surface that it
is likely to come in contact with.
The mandible (jaw) of the honey bee,
when seen under the glass, is a real curi
osity. They not only open and shut,
like the jaws of any other animal, but
they have a backward and forward move
ment, and each of the pair is independ
ent of the other in its movements. The
old class of naturalists believed that the
honey beo, as an artist and a builder,
was a "mason." But such is not the fact
in the case. The honey beo is a
"smith." Sho draws out her work, us
ing her mandibles in the smith's
hammer. It would be a simple impossi
bility to build a wall as thin as that of
the honeycomb by any other process.
Beeswax is tho result of disgestod
honey, just as tallow results from the
digestion of the food of the ox. But
the beeswax, instead of adhering to the
flesh, as ill tho ease of fat animals,
passes out of the body of the bee, through
one of the six falso pockets 011 the under j
side of the abdomen, in the form of thin I
scales or pellets, and while they aro
warm and pliable tho bees seize them I
with their rnandib'es and weld tliem to
tho rims of tho cells, and eont nue to
draw out the combs untill tho proper
depth of the cells are reached. The
cell walls are as thin as the finest tissue
paper known to the art of paper making,
and would not have sufficient strength
to support the tiny weight of a tiny beo
were they not strengthened by an ox
quistely formed rim around thein, sup
porting their fra ; l walls bolow, precisely
as does the wired rim around the top of
a tin vessel. Thai those thin walls aro
drawn out and not built on to, is provei
by tho fact that the rim around the eel
is as well defined when tho work is firs
begun as it is when the comb is finished,
and is present through the whole process
of construction.
Is looking through a lot of second
hand books in Parkcrstown, W. Ya.
tfeaman Cummiugs came across a boo!
which had been stolen from him in
Philadelphia twenty years ago. He
valued it very highly, as his father pre
sented it to him when ho was qniti
young. Ho feels quito jubilant over th
recovery,